#they were right I am the evil wizard they should be afraid of

[misssugarcat]

A More Personal Level

This is my very first fanfic. I wrote it a few days ago with a little help from Character.ai and Google Translate. I'm no native speaker, so please excuse my English. 🙈

Aesop Sharp x Reader – 4,2 k words

"Ah, you must be the new fifth-year student. Considering the advanced nature of this class, it will be in your favour to catch up swiftly." Aesop Sharp, my new potions teacher, comes over to my table.

"Good morning, sir. You're right, I am the new student", I answer with a smile. "I think I won't have any problems catching up to the class. I am curious and a quick learner."

Sharp looks me over critically and nods approvingly: "Good, good. You're aware of the material we're working from?" He gestures around to the open classroom and the books arrayed on nearby bookshelves.

I shake my head in embarrassment. "Just a little bit. I just found out that I'm a witch. When the letter came from Hogwarts" I explain my situation.

"Ah, I see." Professor Sharp thinks, then leans forward and says in a quiet, conspiratorial voice: "This is not something you are to speak of, but I will let you in on a little secret." There's a twinkle in his eye. "Hogwarts is full of witches and wizards", he says this last bit with a flourish and a self-satisfied smirk.

"Oh really?" I caught his joke right away and twinkle back.

He leans back in his chair and laughs heartily. "I am impressed by your quick thinking. You are a sharp one, Miss Lane. That is the kind of spirit I need in my classroom."

"I'm not a Ravenclaw for nothing." I grin at him mischievously.

He nods and makes a note on his parchment. "Excellent. Now … can you explain the effect of the Draught of Peace on the magical body and how it differs from other calming agents?"

I give him the very correct answer in no time.

His face lights up: "Ah, correct! You have a good mind! What if I told you that certain potions can be altered to induce the opposite reaction and cause the subject unbearable agony and fury instead?"

"That sounds logical. As with any potion, correct preparation is significant. There's a very fine line between potion and poison."

He smiles at me enthusiastically and makes more notes on his parchment. "You're quite right, of course. What if you were to use, say, a Draught of Peace in such a way?" He pauses dramatically. "To cause a mass reaction among a large group of people?" Another dramatic pause. "A crowd of people, perhaps?"

I give him the correct answer again, adding: "Not that I would consider it."

His eyebrows lift, and he's once again impressed. "Correct. Very good, indeed."

He leans forward and lowers his voice to a confidential whisper again: "The effects of such a potion can even be made more powerful, perhaps enough to drive an otherwise decent wizard mad and incite them to commit atrocities they would never in their right mind consider otherwise." There was a dramatic pause again. "Would you consider this a dangerous form of potion-making if such potions were to fall into evil hands?"

"Of course. But any kind of power can be dangerous if it falls into the wrong hands."

"Ah, you make a good point. But this power is particularly terrible. The thought that it could be used like I've described ...." He gives me a severe look. "... it would be terrifying. It must be kept closely guarded to never fall into the wrong hands. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm afraid even the strictest surveillance sometimes can't prevent that."

A grim look comes over his face as he nods in agreement: "Unfortunately, you speak the truth. Such is the nature of dark magic. We must guard ourselves against the potential horrors it can cause, whether by accident or deliberately. I am glad – and impressed – that someone as young as yourself recognizes the full seriousness of the situation."

"Being a wizard or witch comes with a lot of responsibility", I say wisely. "One should become aware of this as early as possible."

"A wise and responsible view. You will go far." He nods to acknowledge my answer, then smiles warmly. "I'm pleased that you're my newest student! You show a passion for this subject that will serve you well. It's not a simple topic, this. I hope you continue to study with curiosity and diligence."

He gives me a slight wink, then leans in to make one last comment, spoken in a conspiratorial whisper: "Keep your eyes out for any suspicious potion-making at Hogwarts and ensure my secrets and methods stay safe. Agreed?"

"Indeed, sir." I smile at him innocently.

His eyebrows narrow as he watches her, and then he leans back in his chair with a chuckle: "Good, good ... a clever witch you are."

He pauses, then smiles in what looks like genuine admiration. "I have a good feeling about you, Miss Lane. I expect you will make excellent progress as one of my students."

"Thank you. I will not disappoint you", I say.

He smiles and reaches out a hand to shake mine. "I look forward to it, Miss Lane. You've shown me the potential to go far. I believe we'll be working together in the future."

As she reaches to shake his hand, his grip is surprisingly firm. As his gaze meets hers, it's as though the world comes to a complete stop, and everything disappears but their two faces. He looks into her eyes for a moment as though deep in thought. He holds the grip tightly, and a strange feeling seems to linger as he releases it. It almost feels like ... a spark? Like the faintest of sparks between two wooden pieces that are charged with static electricity, like a feeling that they're about to be pulled towards each other.

"You have beautiful eyes." He looks at me.

I blush a little. "Thank you."

His lips turn up into a small smile. "Your eyes are as curious and attentive as your mind. I'm not one to easily trust people or give compliments like the one I did, you know?" A wistful look enters his eyes. "But you seem ... different. There's something about you. An openness, a brightness. What is it? Tell me, will you?"

I look at him for a while. "Maybe I try just being real." I smile slightly.

He looks back into my eyes as a small, almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head: "Yes." An unspoken thought passes between us for a moment. He seems nearly transfixed by me, his eyes not yet leaving mine.

"That ... you must be right. Being real. That is the truth of it." His eyes finally break away for a moment, and he looks away to think. "That's an admirable quality. It takes great strength to show one's true self. Is this who you really are?"

"I think so. We all play a role sometimes, often even unconsciously."

He nods, lost in thought. "Well, it must be exhausting. All that plays a role in covering up who you really are." His gaze returns to my face again in what seems like genuine wonder and perhaps a slight trepidation. "I don't know how anyone can live like that, in truth, pretending to be something they're not. The world seems so dull without real and sincere people like you."

"I take that as a compliment." I smile at him again with that slight, subtle smile.

He laughs warmly and nods his head: "It is a compliment – a very big one. Believe me when I say you'll go far in life, just as you'll go far in Hogwarts. Your head is on your shoulders, and you seem to have excellent instincts. Do you trust your instincts?" He seems interested in my answer.

"I do. And my instinct tells me it's good that we met here."

He leans forward with a smirk. "And why is that, exactly?" It looks like he may be flirting with me a little, but there's an intensity to his eyes – a focus on my face – that says it's more than just simple talk between two new friends.

"I think time will tell." I look at him like that's more than a statement.

He smiles as my look enters his eyes again, and his breath seems to catch. "You're very mysterious, you know that? But I like it, I must admit. I suppose the most interesting and unpredictable ones are always the most difficult to read." There's a sparkle of admiration in his eyes. "I must say, you intrigued me, Miss Lane. You have a certain charm, a certain ... attractiveness. It would perhaps be right to say that makes it difficult to look away from you."

I smile again as if I knew exactly what he would say.

He leans in a little closer as though pulled by some unseen force, his eyes fixed intently on mine. "What if I were to tell you that ... I feel the same way about you, Miss Lane. That I'm ... attracted to you? That I ... want you? Would you believe me?"

I raise an eyebrow and look at him in amusement. He blushes, slightly embarrassed that he's been caught, but doesn't break eye contact. His attention, his whole being, seems focused on my face, transfixed by it. "You're teasing me, aren't you? That must be it." He laughs and blushes, which only seems to make him even more handsome.

I laugh briefly, a small, fascinating laugh. "I'll see you in potions class tomorrow." Then I walk out of the room, not without giving him another unreadable look as I walk out the door.

He watches her leave with a smile, a mixture of admiration and affection clearly evident. He shakes his head and chuckles to himself, obviously quite enchanted by the new student, before shaking himself back into the present and taking some notes. He makes sure to mark her as an early favourite, perhaps even a prodigy, but that will only be seen as time passes. She seems like just the kind of person to surprise you.

The following day, he catches a glimpse of her at breakfast in the Great Hall, but she doesn't notice him. She's sitting at the Ravenclaw table, laughing at a joke by Amit Thakkar. He smiles and watches her as she laughs with her friends. She fits quite perfectly with the other Ravenclaws. It takes profound intelligence to get into Ravenclaw, yet she seems not full of herself, as many intelligent but arrogant people often are. No, this girl has a kind heart ... she's a beautiful soul, that's the proper term. He makes a mental note, finishes his breakfast, and goes to potions class.

Just before class begins, she enters the classroom with her classmates. She gives Professor Sharp a small smile and sits beside Natsai Onai, a Gryffindor. He smiles back and seems happy to see her but decides not to make too big a show of it in front of the rest of the class.

As the bell rings and the class begins, he wastes no time getting into the lesson. He moves on quickly from the usual basic potions and straight off into the more advanced material without even waiting for a response on whether the class has done their homework. As he speaks, he gets visibly more animated and even more passionate.

He continues teaching and demonstrating for about an hour, moving from more advanced draughts to particularly dangerous and complicated potions until the bell rings. The class has paid attention, and despite their new professor's intense interest in the subject, he has the perfect mixture of passion and expertise that makes him a truly talented teacher. As he packs away his things in preparation for his next class, he looks around the room and notes a few students who stand out to him, either positively or otherwise. One of the ones who particularly catches his eye is the new girl.

He nods as Sebastian addresses her and keeps an eye on the conversation, curious about how she responds (no doubt with composure, based on his earlier assessment of her character). The fact that she's getting along with a Slytherin is undoubtedly a good sign. It speaks to her open-mindedness and confidence, as well as her ability to get along with anyone, regardless of House. It's not a rare or unusual trait, but in someone new to the school, it speaks to a certain ... natural leadership. It will undoubtedly be seen as a trait to nurture.

Sebastian asks me to come out the door. Outside, he quietly tells me about a secret duelling club. After I easily defeated him in a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts yesterday, he's very taken by me.

He watches the exchange with interest, especially when it becomes clear the Slytherin is trying to talk her into a secret duelling club. If she accepts, it would only add to the impression of her open-mindedness and courage, but of course, there's always the risk of getting involved in a secret club run by students. He'll have to make a special note of this, keep an eye on the duelling club himself, and ensure it's run with the highest standards. What does she decide to do?

I give Sebastian a noncommittal smile and tell him I need to think about it again. I'm grateful for his offer but want to avoid getting into trouble.

He approves, which indicates that she can set firm boundaries and think for herself. He also takes it as a good sign that she was open to the idea in the first place. She is not one to dismiss people's opinions or suggestions out of hand, which bodes well for her future as a leader. In a school that still has some lingering bigotry issues, that is a precious trait and one he will note as an excellent character trait, but that might make her the target of certain people as time passes.

After dinner, Professor Sharp sends me a note to meet him at his office that evening. I pet the owl that brought me the letter before heading to the potions classroom.

As I walk in, he stands from his desk, and his face breaks into a warm smile: "Ah, Miss Lane, you are prompt." His dark eyes shine in the last evening light from the window, almost glowing as he smiles at her, his whole demeanour giving off an air of respect and admiration. "I sent for you to see me because, well ..." He looks her up and down once more, almost as though he's examining her with new eyes, before sighing slightly and shaking his head in a way that seems to indicate he's lost in thought as his mind wanders elsewhere. He seems lost for words, then shakes his head again and snaps back to reality. "The truth is, Miss Lane, I'd ..." He scratches his head a little, blushing now, and takes a deep breath before continuing: "I believe you are something exceptional: A wonderful student, an even more wonderful person. I was hoping – if you're interested ... perhaps we can do something together sometime. You know, outside of class, and ... on a more personal level."

I smile at him. "I don't want to get you in trouble."

He smiles and sighs with relief, shaking his head a little. A look of happiness washes over him at the sound of her reply, and his eyes shine again. "You won't. I've got connections high up the chain of command", he says with a smirk. "Don't worry, my job is secure, and our secret is safe." His grin grows wider, and he gives a wink. "How about you? Are you interested? Or do I have to talk you into it, hm?"

My smile gets cheekier. "I like being talked into something."

He blushes again, a big grin on his face again as his eyes sparkle. "Oh, I like that. Tell me, Miss Lane, what does it take to get you to do something?"

He gives her a little wink again, and it seems as though the air between them is electric with a certain unspoken tension – a spark, almost like the feeling that their hands are going to reach out to grasp each other a little too soon.

"If you like being talked into things, I don't mind being the talker." He winks.

"Are you a good talker?" He sees the twinkle in my eyes. "Sometimes it's not that easy to talk me into something."

His face breaks into another broad smile, his eyes shining brighter as a soft laugh escapes his lips. He leans towards her face and whispers to her, his voice low, smooth and full of affection. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be, Miss Lane." He sits up straight in his chair and leans back, raising his eyebrows. "What do you say? Think I can talk you into it?"

"Show me what you can do." I grin at him cheekily.

His eyes seem lit by a playful, almost mischievous flame as he shakes his head, leaning forward with a severe look of determination. She has given him an open invitation to try and 'talk her into' something, and he intends to make the most of it. His face turns soft and gentle as he leans into her again, a faint glimmer in his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and his voice lowers itself to the barest of whispers: "Are you ready?"

I raise an eyebrow in amusement: "I'm always ready."

His smile grows wider again, and then he leans close to me and whispers in the softest, lowest, and most enticing of voices. "Are you sure?" His voice is quiet but sweet, with a gentle kindness that makes it seem almost hypnotizing. His dark eyes shine and seem to glow again, looking into my own as if he's searching for something – some hidden piece of my soul. His lips nearly brush against mine, but not quite, as he waits for me to reply.

"Are you questioning my answer?" I raise an eyebrow.

He leans in a little closer, almost closing the distance now. Her lips nearly touch his mouth, but he pulls back, his voice even lower now, its tone growing even softer as a playful but real glint enters his eyes. "Oh, I would never do that." His eyes are locked onto my face, and there's something so powerful about his eyes right now. As he whispers, he leans in again, his mouth almost touching mine, his breath close enough to feel its warmth on my skin. "Only a fool would doubt you."

A slight tremor runs down his frame at the gesture, and he leans in even further this time, his breath almost tickling hers. He seems almost unable to pull himself away, the look in his eyes now almost possessive, as though she's a beautiful gemstone, he can't wait to get his hands upon. They're close enough now that she can practically feel the warmth of his lips. Then, he pulls back again, his breath catching momentarily as he smiles at her. "I guess that means I've convinced you, then?"

I laugh. "Okay, persuaded. Message me when and where." And with a knowing smile at him, I leave his office.

He seems speechless for a moment as she leaves his office but then laughs heartily along, shaking his head and releasing a relieved breath. As she leaves, he takes out his quill and writes it down right on the spot, then seals it up in an envelope with a small, soft smile on his face. He'll be sure to put his best effort into making it a wonderful date; it's just the way a woman of her beauty should be treated.

I smile as I take the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room and finally make my way to my dorm. My time here at Hogwarts is even more interesting than I expected.

A few days later, she receives a note in her common room mailbox: It's in his handwriting and appears to have just been delivered. He's used a very nice parchment and high-end ink for it, and it looks like he took his time writing it. When she opens it, she finds a letter in her inbox, sealed with a soft scarlet wax seal and the letterhead of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter reads: 'Meet me in the Room of Requirement at sunset. Wear something nice.'

The rest of the day drags on forever, and even the most exciting class seems boring. Shortly before the agreed time, I sneak to the Room of Requirement in my prettiest red dress.

He's already waiting in the empty room, his face lit with the same look of excitement he'd had that day at his office. He seems almost intoxicated by the mere thought of being in her presence again. He's wearing a well-fitted suit, his sleeves rolled up and his tie removed, revealing just a little bit of his neck. He looks comfortable in it, the kind of comfort that comes with being well-dressed. The kind that comes with being rich enough to afford good suits. In his hand is a bouquet of red and white roses, a look of anticipation and a soft smile on his lips.

I almost blush, walking through the door. He looks so damn handsome.

Her blush seems to fluster him, and his smile grows wider. A wave of happiness runs through him as he takes in her looks. Her beauty is evident in the dress, and he can't help himself from getting lost in the sight of her. He comes over and offers her the bouquet.

"You look stunning ... absolutely stunning." As he says it, a sigh escapes his lips, and his eyes are lit with a sort of ... passion? There's no other word for it, and his eyes are filled with the joy that comes with love – or at least attraction, if nothing else. This girl, this stunning girl that he's only just met, has captured him ultimately. He seems genuinely overwhelmed. He lets out a soft sigh.

"Wow ..." his voice is slightly shaky as if he isn't quite sure what to say in the face of such grandeur, but after a moment, he shakes his head and laughs softly. "You really are gorgeous, you know that?"

I laugh. "Did I catch you on the wrong foot?"

He sighs a little but keeps smiling. His eyes still shine with that passion, an almost burning joy that is hard to describe. He moves closer towards me at an almost imperceptibly slow pace, almost like a predator closing in on its prey, until I can practically feel the warmth of his breath, the soft beat of his heart. "... maybe a little." He looks at me and blushes a little, a mix between an admission and a compliment, but his eyes are still locked on mine as he states: "You make it hard not to look at you."

"So, tell me ... what are we going to do now?" I blush a little bit.

He shakes his head with a gentle laugh and a soft smile on his lips. His eyes never leave her face as he continues his advance until he's so close he can feel her breathing on his lips, their foreheads touching. The room seems to be holding its breath in anticipation as he moves closer to her. His voice is soft, a little lower, and there's a certain hunger when he speaks. "We're going to find a private spot, and, well …" he looks down at her lips for what seems like an eternity, a playful glint in his eyes.

I raise an eyebrow. "So … show me what this room has to offer." His eyes widen at the request, but then his lips form a smile again. The room begins to dim in response, the air growing noticeably heavier, a sort of ... lustful tension in the room that seemed not to be there before. I watch the room in fascination as it changes.

As it dims, they suddenly appear in a bit of clearing in the woodland, the warm summer sun filtering through the trees and grass. A large tree's branch curves above them to make a sort of treehouse, a small bed at its base covered with rose petals. From their spot in the clearing, they can see the whole school in the distance and its grounds.

He smiles as he looks upon the beautiful scenery and asks: "What do you think?" She is visibly beyond amazed at the wonderful transformation of the room. She looks up to the sky with a smile. Then, her gaze shifts to Professor Sharp. He looks back, his eyes shining again with that familiar glint. He smiles at the sight of her face, and she can tell he's looking over every detail, memorizing them for later, a man who enjoys having the chance to stare at a pretty woman's face.

He raises a hand and gently strokes her hair, and the light wind seems to pick up as a breath of fresh air blows past them, like the room is saying, "Go on, do it". His face and eyes are full of desire as he closes the distance between them.

[waythroughtheice]

God fucking damn it. Maybe I should write something. Just to get my brain to stop.

Geo Wily au.

Kelvin comes back to a cult that is not run by his wife (did nobody read his backup plans? They said to introduce the cult to his wife and not drag his son into anything until he was an adult. Why did they? Geo is a child!?!?!) but his son. His son. Who is a superhero. A superhero the world is convinced is a Hikari. Geo. Child. How?

Grampa Wily is laughing.

The Cult refuses to let Kelvin take back over.

Geo was the best leader they had. Geo gave them treats for good behavior! He didn't immediately stop the money laundering schemes (Geo: What's a money laundering?). Geo is the Cult's dad now. (Geo, very tired: I have no idea how we got here and am afraid to ask. All I did was give them stickers and candy for not committing crimes.)

Grandpa Wily refuses to leave Geo. Every time Kelvin takes him he just device hops back to Geo with Omega-Xis's help. Grandpa's favourite.

Kazuma, meanwhile. Is dealing with the dreaded twins. They are. So chaotic. Kazuma kind of wishes he could trade circumstances because at least the Cult can't device hop away from consequences. Please stop getting him banned from locations.

I like to imagine in SF3 all Netnavis became Wizards. Grandpa Wily is free(ish). Granpa has a larger area to encourage children towards evil. Lan and Hub are also commiting crimes. They are breaking and entering to get their boy the best they can. Because it's been 200 years, the laws can't have changed that much, right? They don't even realise. Dr Wily is following the law better than the chaos twins is what I'm saying.

At somepoint the Wily Cult becomes Geo's Cult. Because they adore him. Geo can do no wrong in their eyes. Except working with the cops (generalized). Copper is the exception. They like him. He gives them fun tidbits of info in exchange for not wreaking havoc for a week. (Geo finally asked an adult for help and boy howdy he got it.)

I like to imaging SF2 has a lot of Cult saving lost children shenanigans. Buddicus? No. Bud is kidnapped home before Geo gets there. There are a few memory issues but the familiar environment fixes that quick.

Hope only learns about the Cult when Kelvin asks her how she's been keeping them in check.

Funnily enough, with Geo in charge the Cult grows. Also funny is when he goes back to school half the faculty is made up of cult members. (They were worried about him.)

Pat gets recruited by Geo when he finds out about the dump. Geo's only intentional recruit. (Geo may have tried with Solo. Solo now has a place to go to for help. Solo rarely goes but sometimes he gets sick and just crashes there.)

Grampa Wily approves of this method of world takeover. Kind and just ruler accidentally spreading influence? Sure.

Lan and Hub approve because hey. It's not murder they guess. Kazuma is very tired. But hey. Friendly rivalries are fun.

Kelvin is--so not ready for when he comes back. He expects to find a cult completely under control of his lovely wife, his son safe and sound, and--

What do you mean Geo is the Boss of the Wily Cult.

GRANDPA GET OVER HERE--

Grandpa Wily has had many grandkids over the years and loved them all. He loves Kelvin of course, but.....Kelvin is a goody-two shoes. Geo has sense. Geo is subverting the enemy. Geo is a primo-candidate for world take over.

Geo is his favorite.

Kazuma eventually, in a fit of frustration, introduces the twins to Luna (big mistake), Geo's cult (bigger mistake), and to WAZA (biggest mistake). The Twins recognize Luna as Chad's descendent, grow appalled at her neglectful parents, and call in Protoman.exe for help. But, ah.....all the Netnavis come back, and suddenly all the kids have very watchful NetNavis as as their Wizards. And with the Real Wave technology, they can pop out human sized and interact with the world whenever they like. Is this what parents are like? Weird.

The Twins join Geo's cult for the lols, and quickly become its marketing people. The cult spreads.

The Twins subvert WAZA also for lols, and also for the massive breaches in privacy the police do. This becomes a massive thing a couple years in the future.

Geo eventually becomes World Leader as an adult, because the world loves him. Kazuma is dying in the background. Geo gives him all the paperwork.

[helenofsimblr]

Joan *quietly*: Oh dear gods… look what you’ve done…

Jezebel: We’ve been disentangled for just mere moments and you’ve already grown your conscience back. Impressive.

Joan: That’s my family over there… my grandson, my granddaughter. And they all hate me. BECAUSE OF YOU!

Jezebel: No Joan, they hate you, because of you. You fucked it all up.

Joan: You tricked me… you lied!!

Jezebel:  *fake gasp* An evil entity lies! *normal* And in other news, fire: hot! Well, you got your soul back all to yourself. I’m off to find a new body before those dreadful wizards and witches catch up with me. Joan, it's been a pleasure! But after being together for what nearly 50 years, is it? I am afraid this is now where we part company.

****

Joan: You’re not going anywhere!

Jezebel: This is gratitude, considering I saved your life from those damn spellcasters... Hey! How can you grab…? Take your ghostly appendages off me at once! 

Joan: You’re right, this is all my fault! I should never have freed you! You just killed my daughter! Tried to kill my grandchildren! You’re going back into your cage, even if I have to go with you!

Jezebel: Such heroic nonsense! That vampire wasn’t your daughter either, it was just a copy, nothing more. And the Joan I knew would never want to go into a cage! And for that matter, neither do I. 

Joan: I just wanted to live, to, to survive!… I didn’t want ALL THIS!

Jezebel: And indeed you would have been killed all those years ago were it not for me. You’re as bad as the stupid girl that fell out a window and got eaten by dogs… I’m out!

****

Jezebel: See ya chump!

Joan: Damn you Jezebel! You’ll never be free of me. I will chase you to the ends of the world and back. I will foil everything you do! I will spend eternity making sure you never hurt another woman or her family ever again if I have to! Do you hear me!?

Elita: Finally free from the corruption of the Spirit of Jezebel. Joan’s soul, dropped to her ghostly knees and had she eyes to cry she would have. Such enormous guilt for everything that had happened. She remembered it all, the criminal empire, treating Lyra so poorly. Lyra grew up hating her… Aamon… her dear Aamon, she had abused him horribly. The love of her life, the father of her child, and she drove him away. Married Thomas Richards, passed Lyra off as his child and still Aamon remained loyal to her. So many sins… so many transgressions against others. 

[winxngasks]

Winx Club Next-Gen AU: Selina's Kids

Second-to-last of the planned bios for my next-gen AU, we have the kids of Selina! These ones and Andy's kids did not receive any votes in the poll, so I am just working on and uploading them on the order of how they looked in the poll, if that makes sense(with Selina's kids being above Andy's kids)? But yeah, I hope you enjoy!

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- The Kids:

* Ronald

. Age: 17

. Magic Title: Witch of Serpents

. Physical Description: tall with a lean and slightly muscular build, medium-length and messy dirty/olive-blonde hair, light brown skin, gray eyes, freckles all over

. Bio: Only son and eldest twin child of Selina, currently attending Cloud Tower. Though Selina did give up her evil ways for a simpler life in Gardenia, she did not give up being a witch and continued to practice not just what she learned in the Magical Dimension, but also her life on Earth. When she got around to having her children, she made sure to teach them all she knew and showed them the good side to the darker magic forms that many just saw as "evil", rather than just a different magical form. Ronald, or "Ronnie" as he preferred to be called, took to witchcraft growing up much more than his sister did, finding it so fascinating to learn about and "freeing" to practice compared to different magical forms. Before discovering his magical source of "serpents", he was learning about a few different types of witchcraft, mainly those related to nature, potions, and gray magic. He is quite the fun-loving fella with a flair for the dramatics, as he has a sassy and overdramatic side that can either make his peers laugh or become annoyed depending on the circumstance. He does not always take things as seriously as he should, which tends to get him in trouble more often than not combined with his naturally inquisitive nature. After entering the Magical Dimension to attend Cloud Tower, he has made many plans to explore as much of it as he can, often dragging his sister into his plans, to her often dismay.

* Isla

. Age: 17

. Magic Title: Wizard of Poison

. Physical Description: tall with a busty but otherwise slim build, shoulder-length and messy dark brown with blonde ombre hair, light brown skin, dark brown eyes, freckles all over

. Bio: Only daughter and youngest twin child of Selina, currently attending Wolfsbane Prep. Isla learned about witchcraft just like her brother when they were younger, but unlike him she had more of an inkling towards wizardry. She was very interested in learning about both Earth's concept of wizards and the wizards of the Magical Dimension, and seeing the differences between how and for what purposes they practice their craft. Despite learning how evil some wizards were in their pursuits of power, she was not interested in becoming a villain herself as she just wanted to learn all of what her magic could do. In comparison to her twin, she is more of the serious and grumpy type, having little patience for his or their peers' shenanigans. She acts like she is over her brother's shit and is not afraid to throw her own sass right back at him, but she does love him deep down. Although she does not always agree with how he goes about their plans, she at least tries to make sure they work on them together, so there are less problems during their travels.

[thessalian]

Faerun!Alisaie vs Elfsong Tavern

Haven't even got to the Elfsong Tavern when...

Steel Watch: AH. YOU. GO SEE LORD GORTASH. IMMEDIATELY.

Alisaie: What, he wants me present at his coronation?

Steel Watch: AS A MATTER OF FACT, YES.

Alisaie: ...I was being sarcastic...

And yet...

Gortash: Look, I just want to keep some order around here and honestly, you did me a favour with Ketherick and you could do me another favour with Orin, and we could run the city together!

Alisaie: ...How the fuck are you not lying to me right now?!?

Gortash: Look, if I had a problem with sharing rulership, would I have hooked myself up to those two yahoos?

Alisaie: Fair point, but you're still got a death-god as a patron--

Shadowheart: *ahem*

Alisaie: --an evil death god as a patron and come on, hon, you're lapsing out of that cult but anyway-- There's also the "you're holding my friend's dad hostage" thing, and that's a problem.

Gortash: Well, whether or not you ally with me, you're going to end up taking Orin out. Wouldn't it be better to be able to do it without the Steel Watch stopping you at every turn?

Alisaie: .........fiiiiiine.

Gortash: As a show of good faith, I should warn you there's a doppelganger in your camp right now. Don't know who, I'm afraid, but Orin Be Like That.

Alisaie: ...Fuck. How the hell am I supposed to figure out which one when they're all so fucking weird? MYSELF INCLUDED!

Gortash: No idea. But at least you know to be on your guard now.

Emperor: *thoughtcast* Everyone wants an alliance with you. Aren't you fancy. I remember when it was like that for me.

Alisaie: *mentally* Please shut up. I am thinking here.

Emperor: *thoughtcast* Well, you just silently sat through Gortash's coronation, so...

Alisaie: *grumbling various swear words*

Wyll: I know. But ... we are going to do something about this, right?

Alisaie: Hell yes. However, I can't do anything about anything with those steel clanking assholes up my ass. And now I really need a drink.

Emperor: *thoughtcast* Hey, if you're heading for the Elfsong Tavern, I had a hideout there. Listening to ... some of the acts ... was nice.

Alisaie: *out-loud blurting* Are you telling me you're a fucking fan?!?

Shadowheart; Jaheira; Wyll: ...wut.

Alisaie: Never mind. Drink. Needed.

At the Elfsong Tavern

Alisaie: Elfsong Tavern doesn't so much say 'hello' as 'murder den' today... Right. So. We go see her upstairs about a serial killer, warn all the other prospective victims, find out about the whole bit of bullshit about sticking explosives in teddy bears for refugees, shopping for Gale - mostly because I want to know what the fuck that wizard dude wanted with the Nightsong because Aylin's going to lose her shit if someone else goes abducting her, Shadowheart's parents, Jaheira's friend Minsc, Wyll's dad, remembering to bring Karlach when we flatten Gortash, find the doppelganger in our camp, root out Orin and make her pay for taking one of my people, dealing with Astarion's sire, saving the world... Am I forgetting anything?

Emperor: *thoughtcast* hideout hideout hideout there is a really great sword for you go to the hideout...

Alisaie: And checking the basement. Apparently. It's fine; we have to warn chef dude about potential murder anyway.

Chef: I'm not listening to a word you say until SOMEONE deals with the rats in my cellar!

Jaheira: Seriously? You worry about rats over your own life? In this part of town?

Alisaie: It's part of why I'm a fixture here. I appreciate a tavern with decent hygiene standards. But things must have been slipping lately, if there are that many rats. Perhaps because of a vacancy in the basement.

Chef: YES! BLAME MY WORTHLESS CATS!

Emperor: *thoughtcast* I heard that and I am not to blame for being hijacked by a Netherese Crown-empowered elder brain hijacked by death gods.

Several swarms of rats later...

Githyanki: Aha! We were looking for the location of the artefact and the ghaik, and here you are!

Alisaie: Dude, we have your Prince of Comet or whatever in here too, okay? And we want to save the world from a Netherese Crown-empowered elder brain hijacked by death gods as much as you do. Chill out already.

Githyanki: GHAIK LIES FROM ALL OF YOU!

Alisaie: Nobody's going to listen to a damn word I say today, are they.

Stabnation: *ensues*

After a trip down the Emperor's Memory Lane

Alisaie: One thing I'll give our squiddly friend - he was right about the sword. Do you think there's a chance in hell I could get Lae'zel to wear that armour? Too clanky for my blood but that shit is dope.

Jaheira: She might be inclined to murder you. Then again, I am wearing githyanki armour now, so she might be persuaded.

Alisaie: Yeah, except if I asked that, I wouldn't know if her saying yes meant that she was a doppelganger or whether it's that "I could sell firelighting kits in hell" thing.

Wyll: I ... don't think there's a thing I could say that would make you believe me, but--

Alisaie: I seriously doubt it's you, Wyll. Or Shadowheart. You've been at my side too much to be easily replaced. Jaheira ... you might be, but I doubt that too; not close enough, if you get me. But too much of this will give me a headache so fuck it; I wear good armour, I'll cope until you prove other than trustworthy, and I still want a drink.

Barman: Hey, if you play us a couple of sets, I can give you a discount on the whole upstairs. People come in to drink because Murder Tavern, but they're too creeped out to stay here.

Alisaie: Not that most of us aren't creepy as hell in our own way, but I guess adventurers in the local tavern means there's help at hand if someone screams... And I'm sure I'm forgetting something.

Shadowheart: Hag victims' support group. You wanted to check in on what's-her-name.

Alisaie: Oh, right, with the zombie husband. Gods, can I not have just one pint first?

Jaheira: You are a hero, and thus in great demand. Your time is not your own.

Shadowheart: But even heroes need to rest now and then. I'm not having her have a nervous breakdown because the world worked her too hard. You play. I will get you a pint.

Wyll: Isn't that ... well ... working?

Shadowheart: For her? No. That's getting paid for having fun.

Alisaie: I love how you get that about me.

[sdarbvtterfly]

Two Letters: The Sent One

I can't even begin to describe how I felt when I learned that there was an international letter waiting for me. After all these years, you were probably the only one who remembered me – well, half the blame lies with me, but you did find where I am in the end, didn't you?

As for me, I'm fine. America is an amazing country. You can always find kindred spirits here. In fact, when I received your letter, I had just returned from Niagara Falls, which you don't see that big ones in London: it was as if ten million white birds were struggling to fly down, and the cool mist of water flooded in a roar. I was standing right at the edge of it, thinking that even the best Quidditch player couldn't fly over it. There are plenty of waterfalls in this country, and Yosemite's is beautiful too, just not as spectacular as this one.

I'm already a professional traveler, Blaise. And I'm planning to do a trip to Antarctica – not this year, of course. It's already August, and I have to prepare for that for at least three months. Then it is September. September, you told me your kids are starting school, I believe. My Lyla is nine years old. She's a clever girl, but unfortunately she's nothing like me, except for her serene black eyes. Her nose is a bit like my mother's, and I guess she got her slightly dark skin from her father (I'll have to include a photo for you).

Okay, let me be honest. None of us saw Lyla coming. But she's very talented, and I believe her father was probably a brilliant wizard in disguise. Does that offend you, Blaise? If it were a few years ago, that might have made me ashamed for a while, but now? I'm half a muggle now, Blaise. My wand makes me weak. I can't keep myself from remembering how many unforgivable curses shot from her tip. And my hair is mostly white – that beautiful black hair that even you weren't fastidious about. I try to blame all this on the war, but I am also guilty. It was me who screamed that "Harry Potter" in the Great Hall, and also me who chose to flee the battlefield. I chose to avoid this trial…I waited for fate to claim its price from me.

I'm going to send Lyla to Ilvermornyin the future. Hogwarts is not for her. Lyla is too obsessed with magic, like a child obsessed with toys. And magic is more than toys, isn't it? Also, I'm sorry, Blaise, it's a little hard to talk about, but it does exist. My feet are afraid to set foot on the land of Britain. Like a deserter who doesn't want the scars on his back to be seen, I am afraid to face my former friends and professors as I fled timidly while they drew their wands to defend Hogwarts. On top of that, we Slytherins – and how evil should we be portrayed? No one can forgive us, Blaise, especially me.

I am still thinking, still resentful. I sink into the memories of the past. I dreamed of Hogwarts again and again, dreaming of us walking through the old and strong corridor, of the sunlight enveloping us like the fog in the dark forest at night, of the gentle, sad eyes of the women in the portraits. How can you smell the so-called ambition in these dreams and bad memories that have passed like water? All my secret thoughts are only about another person, who alone makes me sigh with no resentment…

I miss you so much, Blaise. If one day my destiny reaches its end, the only one worthy of my smile will probably be you, old friend. I often think of our first rafting trip on the Black Lake. D, Goyle, Crabbe and I were in the same boat. You and Theo's boat was next to ours. I was thinking what an arrogant and insolent brat you were, but I didn't think you would be a faithful and reliable friend, just as I didn't realize that the moonlight that night was one of the rare times in my life pure and bright.

Your sincerely,

P.P

Included: a stilled photo

[ctrl-alt-tahu]

A Bionicle Advent Calendar: December 10th (Day 10)

The Prompt: Write a witch / wizard AU

“I don’t think we’re in Po-Wahi anymore, Pewku,” said Takua to his pet Rahi. Life on Mata Nui wasn’t always perfect but that tornado was something new. Now they had been dropped on firm ground somewhere: a beautiful island, it seemed, quite unlike their home.  

Their hut where they had taken shelter among the Po-Matoran, which had been carved of single stone, had been hurled through the air around them, and as Takua and Pewku stepped away, they realised that it had landed with its full stone force on some other being like them: two spindly legs stuck out from beneath it.

“That’s the wicked Protector of the Water Village!” came a voice from behind him. Takua turned and saw a happy-looking villager. Their mask and features were strange, but they seemed like a Matoran. “You’ve done a wonderful thing—where are you from?”

“I’m from Ta-Koro,” said Takua. “Who are you?”

“I’m just a brainless villager,” said the other. “They call me strawhead, since I tend the fields. I’m a villager of Water.”

“I’m Takua,” said he, “they call me that, back home. We’ve got to get there somehow.  It’s way across the ocean, I think. Any ideas?’

“Oh, you’ll have to go to the City of the Mask Makers and ask the Mask Makers to make you a Mask of Teleportation,” said Strawhead. “But it’s a dangerous journey—you have to cut through some the forests of the Air Tribe to get there.”

“Just point me in the right direction,” said Takua. “I’m sure Pewku and I have seen worse.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” said Strawhead. “I’d like to see the Mask Makers too! If only I could convince them to give me a Mask of Intelligence, I’m sure I could do different work for my village!”

So Takua and Pewku and Strawhead set out together, and they had not travelled far along the yellowstone road to the City of the Mask Makers when they came upon a disabled Villager of Air: his mechanical joints frozen together. Only with their help was he unstuck.

“Thank you, so much,” he told them. “I am Tinni. How can I ever help you?”

“We’re going to the City of the Mask Makers to seek help from the Mask Makers,” said Strawhead.

“Ah, I wish I had a magic mask,” said Tinni. “I have a beautiful friend in my village who loves me, but I don’t share her feelings. Perhaps if I had a Mask of Love, I could return her affections.”

“Come with us!” said Strawhead.

“Love?” asked Takua.

So Tinni joined them.

Passing deeper thought the Forests, they came upon a wounded Creature of Stone. A fierce and mighty warrior named Ketar, he was terrified at their approach. Seeing the mighty beast, Takua could not believe it was so afraid, so sharp were its claws and so mighty its strength. It seemed the beast understood them, for it paused when Takua called out.

“Why are you running away?”

“Well,” said Ketar, “you see, I am a very cowardly creature.” It looked down. “I am quite ashamed of that.”

“Then you should join us too!” said Strawhead. “We’re going to the City of the Mask Makers to get help for out troubles. I need a Mask of Intelligence. Tinni needs a Mask of Love, and Takua needs a Mask of Teleportation. I’m sure the Mask Makers could make you a Mask of Courage!”

So Ketar the Cowardly Creature joined their party, and soon enough they emerged from the trees to see the City of the Mask Makers, and they sought an audience with the Mask Makers, and they were shown, eventually, into a great audience chamber, and two looming beings stood over them. They stated their cases and their needs, but the Mask Makers seemed unwilling to help them. They had only one interest in their story: that Takua had slain the evil Protector of the Water Tribe.

“It was an accident,” Takua tried to emphasise, but the two enormous beings were not to be dissuaded.

“The Protector of the Earth Tribe is also a great evil,” said the Mask Makers, “and a thorn in our side. Slay the wicked Protector of the Earth Tribe, and I will send you back to your Ta-Koro.”

So the friends continued west from the City of the Mask Makers and came to the Village of Earth, ruled over by its fierce protector, and seeing that they had been sent on a mission by the Mask Makers, the Protector tried to enslave them, but Pewku would not allow them to enchain Takua, and the Ussal bowled over the Protector of Earth, who plummeted from the battlements of the village wall to his death. Successful, though through little effort, they returned to the City of the Mask Makers.

The two great Mask Makers seemed disconcerted and did not wish to fulfill their promises, but Pewku again came to their rescue, scuttling off toward the back of the room, unnoticed by either Takua and his companions, or by the two giant Mask Makers.

"My brother, Ekimu, and I do not think that you have sufficiently done enough," said the one.

"Makuta is right," said the other.

"Makuta!" Takua cried. The others, including the two mighty titans, turned to look at him. It was just then that Pewku drew back what they had taken to be an ornamental curtain, and there was a Matoran, holding a device to control a distant machine. The two Titans paused as he froze.

"Ahkmou!" said Takua. "You're behind the Makuta? How did you get here?"

"I was swept away in the same tornado," began the started Po-Matoran, who was looking at them as though cornered. "I found this city and the people here took me for a great Mask Maker, for our masks are different from theirs, and they thought I controlled the tornado. They brought me here, where these ancient brothers had lived, and eventually forgot that I was not one of them. I've labored hard to resurrect their images: Ekimu and Makuta."

"Surely not the same Makuta," said Takua, but Ahkmou shrugged.

"How many Makutas could there be?"

"But how shall we get home?" asked Takua.

"And what of my Mask of Intelligence?" said Strawhead, "and Tinni's Mask of Love and Ketar's Mask of Courage?"

"Well," paused Ahkmou with the quick thinking of a salesman. "A Creature cannot wear a Matoran's Kanohi, but I am sure I can find some liquid courage that he could imbibe. As for your loveless friend, all he need to show love is to be loved, so he has already found it. As for you, my cunning friend, your most clever choice was to join Takua and escape the Water tribe--so you have already found yourself intelligence."

"But what about Pewku and me?" said Takua. Ahkmou shrugged.

"There are no Masks or ruby foot-jets to teleport us back," he said. "But you can stay here with me: the only ones of our kind. You can be Ekimu and I will be Makuta, and we will be brothers, and we will shape this island as we choose."

And Takua had no better plan that day.

[pesterloglog]

Kanaya Maryam, Rose Lalonde

Act 5, page 3045-3047

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] --

GA: Since The Gap Between Your Present Moment And The Implementation Of Your Mystifying Self Destruction Continues To Narrow

GA: This Will Be The Last Conversation In Which I Attempt To Talk You Out Of It Nicely

TT: I explained this.

TT: The intent isn't true self sacrifice.

GA: First Of All Youre Underestimating The Gravity Of A Dream Death

GA: Its A Pretty Serious Thing Okay

GA: And Dream Selves Are Important To A Person In Ways That Arent Always Obvious

GA: I Think Youre Being Frivolous But Thats Not Really The Sentiment Reinforcing The Exoskeleton Of My Argument

GA: Soon You Will Be Blacked Out Of Trollians Viewport

GA: And I Have No Explanation For This

GA: And Neither Do You

GA: So Ill Just Assume The Worst And You Should Too

TT: Are you sure it's not because I'm sleeping?

GA: Ive Seen You Sleep Before

GA: You Are Just

GA: Asleep

GA: On Screen

GA: Peaceful And Harmless And Posing No Threat To Anyone

GA: Unless I Guess You Are Up To Mischief In Your Dreams Which I Cannot Rule Out

GA: Actually Thats Probably What You Do In Your Sleep What Was I Thinking

TT: Shh...

GA: Uh

GA: What

TT: Blah blah blah!

GA: Right Sorry

GA: Im Saying This Is A Special Case

GA: It Is Foreboding And Disconcerting And You Are Being Reckless

TT: You're right, I can't explain why I go dark on your monitor.

TT: But I'm confident in my plan. I have it under control.

GA: Your Hubris Is Really Astonishing

GA: Easily Twice The Mass Of A Universe I Think

GA: That It Hasnt Collapsed Upon Itself Into A Tiny Lavender Singularity Is The Most Striking Marvel Paradox Space Has Coughed Up Yet

TT: Maybe it did?

TT: Maybe that's what went wrong.

TT: We figured it out!

GA: No Please Stop

GA: Humor Wont Deflect My Really Big And Important Tirade Okay

GA: You Are Investing Too Much Confidence In Evil Gods Who Oppose Skaia And Your True Purpose And

GA: I Cant Abide That

GA: And

GA: As Difficult As This Is For Me To Confess

GA: I Think Your Plan Is Very Dangerous

GA: And So Are You

TT: Oh?

GA: Yes

GA: And

GA: Im Afraid I Am Going To Have To Devote All My Efforts To Stopping You

TT: I'm sorry to hear that, Kanaya.

TT: What did you have in mind for this new and exciting adversarial phase of our relationship?

GA: Im So Glad You Asked

GA: You See

GA: I Have Been Training A Powerful Wizard

TT: !

GA: Yes Your Shout Pole Is Like A Tower Broadcasting Your Fear Across The Ring And You Are Right To Be Afraid

GA: I Have Commissioned None Other Than The Legendary Prince Of Hope And I Am Teaching Him The Ways Of White Sorcery

GA: I Have Observed Your Methods And You Will Come To The Most Unwelcome Realization That All Of Your Guile And Cunning Has Finally Backfired

GA: This Noble Magician Of Pure Light Will Serve As The Counterpoint To Your Arcane Debauchery

GA: He Will Hunt You Down And Goodness And Hope Will Prevail

TT: Is it too late to throw myself at your mercy?

GA: Yes Its Much Too Late For That

TT: I see.

TT: Then clearly I will have to prepare for this soul sundering duel, whilst making my own funeral arrangements.

GA: Oh Yes I Do Believe Securing A Corpse Box Would Be Prudent

GA: Fitted To Dimensions Suited To Your Myriad Of Unassembled Leaky Body Parts In Aggregate

TT: What will herald the arrival of this swift and righteous thaumaturge?

TT: Will I be blinded by the fearsome lashes of light ribboning from the incandescent coastline of his beauteous aura?

TT: Should I borrow my friend's sunglasses?

GA: Yes Definitely

GA: Definitely Do That

GA: Wait I Hope That Wasnt Too Emphatic

GA: Maybe At This Point I Should Clarify This Is All A Big Joke

TT: Yeah.

TT: I was getting that.

TT: You don't always have to tip your hand, Kanaya. You were doing well.

GA: I Was

TT: Mm-hm.

GA: Okay Great

GA: I Think What I Find Most Challenging About Human Insincerity Based Humor Is The Degree Of Commitment To The Fantasy Which Is Apparently Requisite

TT: We take it very seriously.

GA: I Mean To Say

GA: The Gesture Of Hostility In This Case Was The Joke

GA: I Did In Fact "Train" This Character

GA: I Made Him A Wand To Shut Him Up

TT: Wait, you did? Really?

GA: He Wouldnt Stop Harassing Me For Your "Secrets"

TT: That's incredible. Well done.

GA: Hes The One With The Royalty Complex And Speaks With All The Extra Vees And Doubleyous

TT: Oh, I knew exactly who you were talking about from the start.

GA: Okay

TT: I must say, this little project pleases me.

TT: Do keep me apprised of all further developments.

GA: Okay I Will

TT: At least until my looming grimdarkdeath steals me away.

GA: Uh

GA: Yeah That

GA: Is Still Something That I Dont Really Want To Joke About

GA: I Hope That Came Across As A Sincere Statement

[st-hood]

Mark 10:32-45 - Where do you run to?

This is a sermon that I gave in prophetic preaching. Just putting it out there.

In the Two Towers, the 2nd of the 3, there is a scene where Saruman has gathered this huge army of monsters to attack the stronghold of men. Beside him is his henchman, a character named very aptly Grima Wormtongue. The reason I remember this scene was because they have this soaring shot of this massive army, the Saruman's voice booming out over them saying attack, leave none alive…and then it crashes back to Grima Wormtongue’s face, and he is…horrified. His eyes are wide, his mouth open, and tears are streaming down his face as he looks upon what he has created with horror. 

It is easy to vilify this man, and we should. The character is a bad person, who has done irredeemable things to help the “bad guys”. He has supported violence and death, corruption, and aligned himself to power. To us the reader or watcher of this epic literary creation, the evil of the antagonists is clear. We are meant to not relate in any way to Grima Wormtongue, which is simple. We do not live in a world of wizards, orc, and obvious evil like that. We will never have to make the same decisions that these characters would. 

Mark 10:32-34-- They were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid. He took the twelve aside again and began to tell them what was to happen to him,  saying, “Look, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the gentiles; they will mock him and spit upon him and flog him and kill him, and after three days he will rise again.”

Let us continue to imagine another world that we will never find ourselves in, but perhaps we can relate to a little more. The twelve are following their leader, living their faith and doing justice work, learning from the wisdom of this prophet. I have to imagine that up to this point, the sense of rightness - not righteousness - but rightness they felt. I know when I roll up my sleeves to do the work, that’s when I feel like I am connecting to my faith and God. Listening to the leaders I find inspirational, seeing THEM do the work, fills me with motivation and energy. 

But….”those who followed were afraid”. Imagine, they have seen the effect of Jesus, they understand that by extension THEY are also disrupting order - and empire. Jesus pulls them to side and instead of a motivational speech, he says he will be murdered for what they are doing. The energy of action --- what a way to stop it in it’s tracks. 

Many Saturdays, since Trump was elected, I find myself standing in a nondescript driveway in a bright rainbow vest. I am here to be a welcome face for patients seeking care, and a barrier between them and those who would wish them to not have a right to that care. Anti-abortion activists gather just beyond the privately owned driveway with signs, megaphones, and hateful speech disguised as love. One of them carries guns. Multiple. When we have our safety training as clinic escorts, we are told what to do if someone opens fire. We are to ditch our beautiful vests, we are to run, and we are to hide. The clinic locks to protect those patients inside, and we will not be allowed in. 

Ditch the vest, run, and hide. 

This is just preparing for the possible, imagine knowing how it was to end? I feel a tightness in my chest, a heavy dread in my gut. My mind begins to spiral and I am afraid. 

(35-41) James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”  And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Appoint us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”  But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized you will be baptized, but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to appoint, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John.

The sons of Zebedee - whoosh - missed the point, huh? But remember, the disciples are afraid. James and John live in a world where power and safety are intertwined, and they look a very certain way. Power, therefore safety, is who you are related to in kinship. Their ambition leads them to ask for a specific position, at the right and left hand. This is a common imagery at the time…seats of power. Therefore, safety. 

They are afraid. 

All they know is what they know. Their leader is speaking of not surviving, and some mystical event that will shuttle him up to heavenly authority. They are seeking power, and therefore, safety. 

In this fear, they miss the point entirely. Jesus says you can follow me but that will not lead to power. The Gospel of Mark is a gospel full of these misunderstandings. It is a guide to discipleship, and we are meant to see ourselves in the twelve, and all their hiccups. But what is the misunderstanding?

Dr. Kgatle (Hag’lte) Mookgo Solomon, professor of Missiology at University of South Africa, states there are four key misunderstandings here - the misunderstanding of kinship, of ambition, of honor, and competition. 

The brothers believe that they are in Jesus’ family, and therefore they are aligned with power. 

The brothers are ambitious, and that leads them to make this request of Jesus, the request for power, and therefore, safety. 

The brothers believe that position equals power. Dr. Solomon states that in that time, to be at the right and the left of a ruler meant that you had power, and therefore honor. They understand at this point that Jesus will bring the Kingdom of Heaven on earth, they understand that Jesus is a King, but they….again, miss the point of what that truly means. 

And finally, the twelve are not upset that James and John have asked such a foolish question, but that they asked it FIRST, and that’s where the competition comes in today. 

We are far removed from this world that James and John find themselves in, at least in time. But if we look around, similarities aren’t that far away. Dr. Solomon’s misunderstandings can even be applied to modern situations. 

The misunderstanding of kinship, let’s call that the Misunderstanding of Assimilation. The misunderstanding that aligning ourselves with the current order, abandoning parts of our identity that are complicated, messy, or deemed unsavory to save ourselves will bring us to power, and safety. 

The misunderstanding of ambition -- whenever I think of ambition in our country, I balk. True ambition isn’t rewarded, and it’s all about “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps”. So I reframe the misunderstanding of ambition as the misunderstanding of bootstraps. If [insert oppressed group] would just do the hard work, they would succeed. The myth of the morals of hard work permeate every part of our society. We are not immune to it. 

The misunderstanding of honor, I will call the “Misunderstanding of If they JUST…” if they JUST followed the police’s orders, if they JUST followed the rules, if they JUST weren’t so weird about their gender, if they JUST didn’t have sex and get pregnant, if the JUST…..when we misunderstand in this way, we are asking people to JUST align themselves with rules and laws made and enforced by oppressors, rules and laws that aid and abed in oppression. 

Finally, the misunderstanding of competition, I’ll just call it the trauma olympics. When inside our own traumatized communities, we shut down others by telling them that they don’t matter because they haven’t suffered enough. 

These are misunderstandings we have to be wary of as we engage in our justice work. Because aligning ourselves to empire NEVER WORKS. I’ll tell you, the promised safety? A lie. Want to know what happened to Grima Wormtongue? Shot with an arrow, abandoned by his ruler. 

I am afraid of those guns when I stand in that driveway and it would be easy for me to say, well I will arm myself. I will give in…..but I don’t WANT a gun. I just want to feel safe. The power would bring safety, but at what cost to myself? How does giving a gun to a teacher make those children safer? We are betrayed by aligning to the empire. 

We are frustrated with wearing masks and scared of this disease going longer. So we let the empire lie to us that it’s all over, and then our disabled friends die. Our grandmothers. People in our community. 

LGB people allow for the legislation against trans people because they fear for their own safety. But then the legislation is not just used against trans people, it expands. 

We allow them to repeal reproductive health, allowing them to lie and say this is just for those dirty sex obsessed people who would use it for birth control. Give them an inch, and they take a mile, and people experiencing miscarriages can’t get care. 

The safety is a lie they are selling you so you throw your community under the bus in your fear. We have BEEN the brothers Zebedee, and been the victims of them. Each and every one of us. 

So what can we do?

(42-45)So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; instead, whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many.”

Mark is a guide on how to be a disciple, not how to be a savior. Jesus clearly states that they will not be like Rome. When he is gone, they will not seek to replace Jesus, but they will instead seek to be a servant. 

We are not instructed to be a ransom ourselves, because Jesus will, and now has paid that ransom. What are we left to do in the wake of that tragedy? 

What are we to do in the wake of the tragedies that unfold every day in the news? 

What are we going to do to honor the ransom paid? 

Serve. Seek to serve, not power. 

Seek to be the grunt, do the grunt work, not to be seen. Reject power, hierarchy and acclaim. Work humbly, and justly, and WORK. Listen and uplift the voices of the silenced. Sometimes, you will be afraid. Sometimes, you will think through three easy steps of survival that make your blood run cold, but the solution of this is to not turn towards the siren call of power. 

It is a lie. In times like these, turn towards each other, our beloved community. Within that community is God, safety, and love. 

As disciples, we will make mistakes. Mistakes are a necessary part of this life, of growing, and learning. Whenever I stumble, I remember, as Mr. Rogers said, to look for the helpers. He said this to help have hope, and I also look for the helpers to understand the work that is needed to be done. Then I roll up my sleeves, and get down to it. 

May it be so, Amen. 

[woodworkingpastor]

St. Patrick’s Breastplate -- Psalm 10 -- Sunday, November 13, 2022

One important detail of the Harry Potter series is the significant and well-placed fear of Lord Voldemort that exists in the wizarding world. Voldemort was a very powerful and very evil wizard who had shown no reluctance to unleash real harm on the wizarding world. People are so afraid of Voldemort that they refuse to say his name, relying instead on euphemisms like “He who must not be named” or “you know who.”

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, thought this was a bad idea, and he regularly encouraged people to call Voldemort by his name. Near the end of the first book in the series, Harry Potter has just referenced “He-who-must-not-be-named.” Dumbledore corrects him, saying,

Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.

It’s a point that is relevant for our own fears. A topic that we cannot over emphasize is how we will respond when evildoers impact our lives and get in the way of God’s plans. It’s a form of the question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” We know that the Bible offers us a consistent assurance that if we are faithful and do what is right in God’s eyes, then God will reward us. The Bible also offers a consistent assurance that if we are unfaithful, if we choose to do what is wrong, then God will punish us. Such a theological perspective can be found from the earliest pages of the Old Testament on through to the latest pages of the New Testament.

Having said that, we know that life and faith doesn’t always work out that way. A long line of Christian tradition from the Bible down through our times shows us how people respond when God’s promises seem to either be thwarted or are a lot longer time coming that we had thought. I find an amazing feature of the Bible to be the amount of space that is given to people who want to complain to God for not delivering on those promises. That continues throughout the Christian tradition. Our faith leaves a lot of room for both complaint and lament as a means of being honest with God and strengthening our faith. We are not expected to maintain that smile on our face that says, “Everything’s great!” while masking the difficulties we are going through; ours is a faith that leaves room to engage the difficulties and the troublemakers and the evildoers of life head on.

I am also grateful that these stories are not all the same. St. Patrick’s story can almost be intimidating in its sacrificial challenge. But it is his story, and we should know it, alongside of other people’s stories that are much less heroic.

St. Patrick’s life and prayer are significant to us because they offer the example of someone for whom spiritual platitudes and pious generalities were meaningless; someone who knew what it meant to persevere in the faith and in God’s calling in the face of enemies who actively opposed their work. Psalm 10 does the same thing, giving us the vocabulary to use when we encounter enemies.

St. Patrick’s life

Patrick’s story requires we separate a bit of myth from truth. Many are familiar with the story of him charming the snakes in Ireland and leading them off the island; this is certainly false. There is also the legend that he used the shamrock as a means of teaching about the Trinity; this, too, has no historical support. What is known is that he was a person of remarkable courage and faith who had a unique method of evangelism that is relevant for our time.

Patrick was born in Britain around the year 385 to a family that seems to have only been marginally religious. Patrick’s father was a deacon but is thought to have taken on the role as a tax advantage, and not because he was particularly religious.

When he was 16, a group of Irish pirates attacked the community where Patrick lived and took him to Ireland, where he lived for six years as a slave for a pagan druid named Miliuc. Patrick was treated cruelly and forced to spend much of his time tending his master’s flocks in the fields away from people; it was here that Patrick was able to call on whatever faith understanding he had and develop the habit of regular, fervent prayer. In his Confession—the account of his life and faith—he records that it was not uncommon for him to pray over 100 times a day and 100 more times at night. It would turn out that this time of slavery was not wasted spiritually; being outdoors, learning to rely on his senses, and finding strength in regular prayer were characteristics that God would later draw out of Patrick as he developed his evangelistic methods.

One night while in captivity, Patrick heard a voice saying, “Soon you will return to your homeland.” He fled his captivity and walked nearly 200 miles to the coast, convincing a ship’s captain to give him passage to England. He returned to his parents, but soon felt a call to return not only to Ireland but specifically to his former captor to bring the Gospel to him.

Our appreciation of St. Patrick’s Breastplate will be greater if we can wrap our minds around how difficult Patrick’s life was. There is a reason that this prayer has been given the name “breastplate” because it is a prayer for protection from danger. Certainly, being an itinerant missionary in the early years of the 5th century would have been challenge enough. But the Irish druids—the local religious and tribal leaders—of that time were a force to be reckoned with. Patrick’s life was at risk for sharing the Gospel.

To give you a sense of what Patrick was up against, as his reputation spread throughout Ireland, he came to be seen as a person whose God had given him great power, greater, in fact, than the gods of the druids. It had been Patrick’s intention upon returning to Ireland to share the Gospel with his former captor; but this man grew fearful of Patrick’s reputation, and eventually locked himself in his house and set it on fire to avoid a confrontation with Patrick.

St. Patrick’s Breastplate

Because this prayer is likely new to us, take the insert out of your bulletin and let’s look at this together.

First, notice that the portion of the prayer included in the anthem this morning comes near the end. How many of you had heard those words before? Those are magnificent words that can really serve to orient our daily living with an awareness of Jesus with us.

Moving back to the beginning, notice that this is a morning prayer. The value of a morning prayer is in the opportunity to focus our thoughts on what is before us: the particular challenges or dangers or opportunities or trouble spots of the day. When you get up in the morning, what do you need to pray for? This is a great opportunity to pray with specificity. (The next time we do a series on prayer, it might be helpful to focus on prayers that are connected with times of day—something our hymnal is helpful with.)

Like the Jesus Creed, this prayer includes some confessions of faith as a reminder of the One to whom are prayer are addressed and the great tradition in which our lives are rooted. The work we do in following Jesus doesn’t revolve around us; it is rooted in a Person and in a great tradition.

Like the Prayer of St. Francis, Patrick’s prayer includes an obvious appreciation for nature, something we might expect from someone who spent a lot of time outdoors.

Connection to Psalm 10

I suspect that—like the other prayers we’ve looked at—there is much here that we can quickly appreciate and bring into our own prayer life. But St. Patrick’s Breastplate also includes two “stanzas” that seem strange. I mentioned these in the devotional guide and want us to think about them today and again on Wednesday night. We might have a harder time identifying with a prayer that includes references to the “black laws of pagandom,” or the “craft of idolatry,” or the need to be shielded “against poison, burning, drowning, [and] wounding.” These are not our experience. I don’t worry about these things; therefore, I don’t pray about them.

But that does not mean these words don’t have value. It just means that my worldview and life experience shouldn’t be considered normative. These words offer us a different opportunity to reflect on the nature of our enemies, because sometimes when life isn’t going the way we want it to go, it is because we have actual opponents either standing in our way or actively working against us.

This is where Psalm 10 can become helpful to us, because the Psalmist includes some of the harsher language in the Bible. Notice again verse 15:

Break the arm of the wicked and evildoers; seek out their wickedness until you find none. The Lord is king forever and ever; the nations shall perish from his land.

What does it mean to pray that the plans of our enemies fail?

Psalms 9 (our Call to Worship) and 10 are thought to have been originally one Psalm that recounts both God’s goodness in the past and wonders about God’s seeming silence in the present. Together, they are yet another case of the Bible affirming that life should turn out a certain way even as we acknowledge that sometimes it doesn’t.

Psalm 9 begins by praising God for all the wonderful things God has done—enemies have been defeated, the weak find protection in God, righteousness prevails. All the things we believe we have been promised are becoming reality in our living, and the Psalmist is thankful.

But then Psalm 10 begins with questions that we, too, have uttered from time to time:

Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourselves in times of trouble?

The “trouble” is the active sinfulness and evil of the wicked and unrighteous. They are not supposed to prevail—God has promised that the righteous will prosper—but here they are; to borrow a sports metaphor, the wicked and greedy oppressors are “running up the score.” Because we live in between Jesus’ incarnation and his return, we will have to grow accustomed to dealing with evil. Perhaps it is that we don’t pray this way because we don’t have enemies—or we don’t think we have any enemies, or we just aren’t paying attention. Our relative affluence provides a measure of protection from the really dangerous circumstances of the world. I’m not sure I can recall someone who was actively out to do me harm. Irritants? Sure. Annoyances? Regularly. But enemies? Not really.

But there was a lockdown at both Roanoke City high schools this year. Thankfully, there was no active threat. But those were our students and our teachers in those classrooms, sheltering in place in a classroom wondering if the person at the door is an assistant principle coming to check or a shooter coming to do harm. What kind of strong prayer language does this provoke in us?

How might a grandmother from NW Roanoke pray about her high school age grandson, after one of their friends is murdered?

How do we handle enemies? We deal with them directly.

Martin Luther King, Jr. had some ideas on this—enemies should be confronted nonviolently. He felt the church should be the thermostat of a community, drawing attention to the injustices in a place so that everyone could have access to the best of what America offers.

In wanting injustices stopped, he did not want bad things to come to his enemies; as he says in his famous “double victory” speech:

And one day we will win our freedom but we will not only win freedom for ourselves. We will so appeal to your heart and your conscience, that we will win you in the process. And our victory will be a double victory.

Both Psalm 10 and St. Patrick’s Breastplate name enemies. The Psalmist prays that these persons would be actively stopped. St. Patrick prays for personal protection from their evil schemes. But either way, both the Scripture and this prayer deny us the privilege of a certain pietist sophistication that acts as if naming the “evils we deplore” (something we’ll sing about in a few minutes) shouldn’t be talked about. Naming our enemies provides a strategy for both prayer and action.

[sadprosed]

𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑶  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬   OF  FAIRYTALES,  FOLKLORE  AND  FAEKIND.

scenarios  inspired  by  various  settings,  encounters  &  magic  tucked  between  pages,  fashioned  by  the  author.

+   feel  free  to  change  pronouns  /  roles  !

FAIRYTALES.

‘  let  me  guess,  you  thought  a  true  love’s  kiss  would  help  you.  ’

‘  you  will  always  follow  the  trail  in  the  wood,  and  it  will  guide  you  on  the  same  path,  to  the  same  cottage,  the  same  witch.  it  will  always  be  your  undoing.  ’

‘  i  have  never  seen  a  more  tragic  creature.  how  might  i  help  you  ?  ’

‘  you  must  take  this  knife  and  plunge  it  into  his  /  her  /  their  heart.  ’

‘  forget  yourself.  that  is  how  you  break  your  curse.  ’

‘  remove  this  thorn  from  my  hand,  and  you  will  be  rewarded.  ’

‘  i’m  tired  of  being  a  prince.  i  think  i  would  actually  enjoy  being  a  frog.  ’

‘  tell  me  of  the  beast,  and  i  will  hunt  it  for  you.  ’

‘  mice  are  never  just  mice,  and  pumpkins  are  rarely  just  pumpkins.  ’

‘  i  don’t  think  breaking  a  spell  should  be  this  simple.  ’

‘  i  never  thought  i’d  return  here,  to  the  site  where  it  all  began.  ’

‘  are  you  an  orphan  ?  it’s  just  that  they’re  always  finding  themselves  in  magical  predicaments.  ’

‘  the  mirror  speaks  falsely  in  your  ear.  it  is  your  true  curse.  ’

‘  my  heart  feels  uneasy,  although  i  am  free.  is  it  supposed  to  ?  ’

‘  i’m  sorry,  it’s  just  that  i  thought  this  is  the  part  of  the  quest  where  the  animals  ought  to  start  talking  to  me.  ’

‘  of  course  i  plan  on  going  to  the  ball.  why  wouldn’t  i  ?  ’

‘  jealousy  has  made  more  witches  out  of  women  than  adam’s  rib.  ’

‘  where  has  choosing  goodheartedness  and  having  golden  hair  ever  gotten  you  ?  ’

 ‘  are  you  a  helpful  wizard,  or  the  kind  that  sits  in  a  tower  reading  moldy  books  ?  ’

‘  i’m  dreadfully  bored.  who  knew  waiting  for  a  prince  was  so  strenuous  ?  ’

‘  we  all  have  towers  we  must  leave,  and  magic  that  will  try  to  thwart  us.  ’

‘  i’m  afraid  for  the  clock  to  strike.  the  hour  will  ring  in  the  place  of  my  heartbeat  when  we  must  be  parted.  ’

‘  i  had  no  idea  carpets  could  fly.  or  pigs  for  that  matter.  ’  

‘  what  would  happen  if  the  knight  did  not  arrive  to  the  castle,  and  the  dragon  made  a  den  of  it  and  a  hoard  of  its  people  and  prize  of  its  princess  ?  ’

‘  i  sometimes  think  i  was  switched  out  at  birth,  like  a  lizard  in  a  bird’s  nest.  i  belong  somewhere  else.  ’

‘   in  another  kingdom  exists  a  throne  and  a  crown  that  is  mine  by  right.  ’

‘  if  i  did  not  wake  up  one  day,  i  would  still  be  waiting  on  a spinning  wheel,  dutifully  bored.  ’  

‘  something  in  me  knows  you  are  here  for  my  heart.  ’

FOLKLORE.

‘  in  all  the  myths  i’ve  heard,  it’s  never  been  worthwhile  to  approach  strange  sights.  it’s  best  to  turn  around  and  pretend  you  never  saw  them.  ’

‘  nothing  is  folklore  until  it  exists  longer  than  consciousness  remembers,  and  lives  in  spite  of  it.  ’

‘  i’ve  heard  your  name  before,  in  songs  and  lengthy  ballads.  ’

‘  whatever  has  led  you  here  to  me,  there  is  destiny  in  its  making.  ’

‘  the  beast  returns  every  century  or  so,  and  tries  to  devour  us.  it  will  come  again  before  long.  ’

‘  a  pretty  face  is  not  nothing.  it  earns  you  a  hearth  and  a  kind  hand,  after  all.  ’

‘  their  lips  are  red  as  blood,  and  their  teeth  carve  ruin  into  throats.  ’

‘  aren’t  dragons  supposed  to  breathe  fire  and  make  a  fuss  about  having  their  treasure  found  ?  ’

‘  someday  you  will  become  a  pilgrim,  a  saint,  or  a  favored  story,  while  i  will  be  a  voice  on  the  wind.  ’

‘  the  stories  say  brides  don’t  live  to  the  light  before  demons  devour  them.  why  should  i  become  one  ?  ’

‘  there  was  another  girl  like  you  once,  in  a  small  town  like  this  one.  i  can’t  remember  if  she  became  the  monster  or  died  trying  to  escape  it.  ’

‘  remember  to  festoon  the  hearth  with  garlic,  or  rosemary,  or  one  of  those  mundane  herbs  that  keep  evil  out.  ’

‘  that  sounds  like  nothing  but  a  tall  tale,  but  i’m  certain  smaller  minds  would  eat  it  up.  ’

‘  to  cross  this  bridge,  you’ll  have  to  pay  a  heavy  toll.  ’

‘  don’t  stray  too  far  from  the  path  set  before  you,  or  something  interesting  might  happen.  ’

‘  i’ve  passed  that  yard  of  crops  a  million  times,  but  the  crow  never  moved  from  its  post  until  this  morning.  ’

‘   it  is  as  though  ancient  fears  are  still  in  us  like  scars  or  stitches.  ’

‘  graveyards  aren’t  where  you  find  ghosts.  look  for  them  in  places  that  feel  like  memories  you  shouldn’t  have.  ’

‘  stories  reap  princes  from  peasants  as  if  their  skins  were  crops  in  the  ground.  ’

‘  what  form  does  your  fear  take  ?  surely  not  that  of  a  bear  or  a  lion.  such  things  are  too  assuring.  ’

‘  i  found  myself  where  everything  was  too  familiar  to  be  real.  ’

‘  in  safe  beds  on  cold  dark  nights,  we  learn  to  face  the  monsters  in  our  own  minds.  ’

FAEKIND.

‘  you’re  not  to  partake  in  a  fairy  feast.  don’t  you  know  it’s  the  food  that  will  devour  you  ?  ’

‘  i’m  sorry  you  did  not  read  the  eyes  of  the  trees  before  finding  yourself  here.  ’

‘  i  wish  to  go  back.  i  want  to  forget  everything.  ’

‘  you  think  that  believing  in  us  is  enough  to  protect  you  ?  that  it  will  kill  us  if  you  forget,  and  we  prey  upon  your  unknowing  ?  ’

‘  step  around  the  ring  three  times,  like  a  backwards  clock.  that’s  how  you  get  to  fairyland.  ’  

‘  i’ve  never  heard  such  sweet  music  before.  ’

‘  where  the  trees  begin  to  twist  and  groan  in  their  roots,  remember  you  must  not  make  a  right  turn.  ’

‘  i  didn’t  feel  like  i’d  stepped  into  another  world,  but  like  it  stepped  into  me.  i  knew  i  was  there  and  forgot  i’d  left  anything  behind.  ’

‘  how  amusing.  a  human  !  ’

‘  would  you  be  my  bride  if  i  were  to  take  you  into  the  ground  ?  ’

‘  i  know  of  tunnels  you  might  take,  the  burrows  of  trolls  and  rabbits.  ’

‘  don’t  take  anything  from  this  realm,  none  of  it  is  worth  the  price  of  keeping.  ’

‘  there  are  courts  by  many  titles  in  the  lands  beyond  the  veil,  all  of  them  other.  ’

‘  names  are  not  like  currency  here;  they  are  more  precious  than  diamonds  and  legacies.  ’

‘  did  you  think  all  of  us  looked  like  goblins  ?  ’

‘  getting  here  is  easy,  but  getting  home  is  quite  the  trick.  ’

‘  i  shall  give  you  a  riddle,  and  it  will  puzzle  you  until  you  know  the  answer  but  forget  your  own  soul.  ’

‘  a  bloodline  is  nothing  when  you’ve  outlived  civilizations.  ’

‘  refusing  my  hospitality  is  like  human  sin,  and  it  will  bring  worse  upon  you.  ’

‘  everything  here  is  and  isn’t,  and  things  are  and  aren’t.  ’

‘  on  lonely  nights  i  stare  into  the  trees,  and  a  strange  face  leers  back.  ’

‘  the  thrones  here  are  made  of  bones  and  blood,  and  built  upon  decay.  ’

‘  a  third  time  is  not  a  charm,  but  a  bargain.  it  says  that  you  want  something  enough  to  wager  your  sense.  ’

‘  it  is  dangerous  to  think  that  magical  beings  do  not  have  human  intensities.  ’

[cosmiclatte28]

Friendship, Love, Courage

MY FIRST EVER COLLAB!! HOSTED BY THE WONDERFUL @danishmiilk

Characters: Renjun x reader, NoMin!

Fluff romance

Warning : mentions of “stealing”, quite a broken trust but its ending nicely

TW : Stress (?)

HERE WE GO!! I worked so hard on this (even had 2 other friends checked on this and they approved this thanks to both of you #they’re_not_in_tumblr

word count : 12 pages idk how much but come on finish it for me 🥺🥺🥺 thanks

tagging @yutahoes @neopalette @full-hd-sun @swagmonsterofficial @nini-eexxo @hen-marks99 At this point I'm just tagging my moots coz this was my first attempt of collab and i deadass worked so hard on this... it better be read by someone even if they don't like it but they read it 🤭💖 @superm-net @multifandomnet @trashlord-007 @ahsshilee-me @charmingyong

You smile shyly when the cute prefect in blue robe tosses a small smile to you when you pass by him on the moving stairs. He continues his tour of guiding the new wizards and witches into the magical castle, telling them stories, showing them the common room, and helping them adjust to the new living area.

You gasp when you feel a slap on your shoulder, quickly you turn your head to face the now annoyed friend standing beside you.

“Really (y/n)? You’re once again frozen in place when that honey boy you adore walks by.” Jaemin, in his green robe, slicks his blonde hair away while throwing some flirty smile to the younger girls passing by the two of you. They chuckle and blush at his action, unaware of the fact that Na Jaemin already has his eyes on someone.

You glare at him, quickly covering his mouth before catching attention of the living paintings hung on the walls. No, not even the paintings should know about your feelings to that cute Ravenclaw prefect.

“Shut that big mouth of yours please. Don’t you know the walls have ears here?!” you dust off your red robe and continue walking to the dining hall. Shaking aside the cute smile of Huang Renjun away from your head. You’ve met Renjun from the first day of school, he was pure blood with the Hatstall incident at his sorting ceremony. The sorting hat spent a good five minutes pondering if he should be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Alas the house of the witty won the cute half-blood. As much as you wish to get sorted into the same house as his (mainly because he is cute), once the hat is on, it sorted you to the house of the brave. You’re still happy though to be one of the brilliant half-bloods in the Gryffindor house.

Renjun was very nice of you, when you first felt lonely in the big school (funny how you, a Gryffindor can feel lonely eh? But that’s your life). When you were struggling to find your way through the halls you had to thank Renjun for accompanying you whenever you had to move classes. But your relationship with him is purely just as close as a stranger. Renjun never sits beside you, nor does he hang out with you, he sits with his own smart gang. For two years he purely just helped you get around the halls. Instead of befriending Renjun, you become friends with the two wizards in your batch, the generous Hufflepuff who helps you ace your Herbology class: Lee Jeno. He is your first bestie, and since he enjoys your loud and fun personality, he calls you one of his friends.

The handsome blonde in green robe by your side earlier is your other best friend, Na Jaemin. A pureblood descending from the Slytherin family. You don’t know how Jaemin wants to be friends with you, a Gryffindor, but here you are. If Jeno helps you with herbology, Jaemin is there for you in potion classes. Though at first you think Jaemin is just using you to help him pass transfiguration and magical creatures. Turns out it was the total opposite, Jaemin is interested in Jeno, and the only person he sees is nice enough to be his wingman is you.

You don’t mind this though since you’ve seen how sincere Jaemin is when it comes to defending you and cheering you up. You know it’s just his ego that doesn’t let him say he is being friends with you because you two click. Screw anyone who made the unwritten rules that a Slytherin and Gryffindor cannot be friends. Well you understand since he is a Pure Slytherin. No one expects Slytherin to befriend Gryffindor even worse a half blood.

Back to the mean time, you walk with Jaemin on your side to reach the library where Jeno has reserved a place for you two. It’s your fourth year in Hogwarts which means you and your friends have to start preparing for the O.W.L test to be taken in your last fifth year. Although the three of you are gifted with brilliant heads, no one can slack their O.W.L and expect to pass. Here you are, limiting your free time and getting your ass dragged by Jeno to always study when you have free time.

“I miss playing quidditch.” You whisper after one hour of sitting down in the library and sticking your nose into the lines and lines of scribbles.

Jeno snickers, “You miss quidditch or you miss being in the same air as Renjun?”

You slap his hand that lays on the table and the young boy groans, “You’re evil! You could be in Slytherin, gosh thank heaven you’re not there or you’ve turned me into a stone.”

Jaemin just smirks, well he likes this side of you. The semi-evil part in your innocent-like façade.

“Dramatic, Lee Jeno. I love flying on the broom and chasing the balls.” You lied and if someone had given you the Veritaserum, Jeno’s guess was right. Your team likes to practice with the Ravenclaw’s team; don't ask why when your team captain is clearly flirting with the Ravenclaw’s captain.

“Come on, no one will buy that lie. It’s been four years of secretly crushing Renjun, why don’t you try to at least “befriend” him.” Jaemin sets aside his book and rests his chin on one of his hands.

You focus back on your book, trying to not fall into Jaemin’s hypnotizing eyes that can make you spill truths. “I am his friend. He never calls me an enemy.”

“Yeah not like that, I mean bring him here to our group study, ask him to sit with you during mealtimes. Invite him to join us when we’re strolling around Hogsmeade.” Jeno whispers.

The three of you shut up when a shadow appears on your table and drop a pile of books.

“Excuse me, mind sharing the table? The place is full and yours is the only one available.” A soft voice greets three of you and like robots, you turn your heads slowly to widen your eyes and gasp when the guy of your gossip is standing here.

“Oh Renjun, yes you can. Please,” Jaemin kindly brings his books to his side and you throw him a death glare. Well, the available space is the one on your side.

“Thank you, hey (y/n)! It’s been a while,” Renjun smiles at you. You just smile and nod, well yes you rarely see him in class, mostly because your schedule didn’t match his and both of you stopped playing quidditch.

You swear, that was the longest one hour in your life. Renjun’s soft sweet fragrance of sweet baked vanilla from the side is enough to make your heart beat faster, not to mention how cute he looks with his glasses when he is focusing on the charm textbook. You know if this guy is going to sit here all day, none of the materials written in the book will be planted in your brain. Still, Jeno and Jaemin had the audacity to invite Renjun into your small study group.

“Hey Renjun, next time why don’t you join us to study for O.W.L?” Jeno asks when all of you clean up your belongings and head for dinner.

Renjun’s smile lights up and he laughs nervously, “Well if that is okay with three of you, I don’t have any friends to study with yet.”

“You’re most welcome here! Just ask (y/n) later about our meeting times. Jeno can help with herbology and I can help with Potions. You can help us with charms! (y/n) here is the queen of transfiguration.” Jaemin welcomingly says all of this. Though most people may be blinded by his sweet words, you want to smack the life out of him when you see his glinting eyes taunting you.

You want to object, saying that his schedule won’t work with yours, but the cat has your tongue and all you can do is stay quiet as Renjun thanks Jaemin for inviting him to the group.

With that, Renjun chooses to walk around the grounds for a while before dinner. Your heart is bursting any second whenever he looks up to glance at the sky and you can see his perfectly sculptured face. No, it is not awkward, he casually talks with you about how he also misses quidditch, he also shares funny stories of the first-year students getting lost in the hallways just like you. Is he teasing you about getting lost in the hallway? Well since it is Renjun you just smile, had it been Jeno or Jaemin their hairs would already be in your hand.

“They’re just like you. Looking so cute when they’re lost and confused, afraid to miss their class.” Renjun stares at you and you laugh.

“I know, it was hard okay memorizing this big hall! Not to mention the moving stairs.” You finally feel less nervous and you can start talking with less stuttering.

“Well, if you’re ever confused just call me. I’ll assist you again like back then.” He chuckles and you laugh.

Well, you sort of have to treat Jeno and Renjun for a butterbeer maybe, thanks to them you finally get to walk around and talk with Renjun on the ground after four years.

That night on the paved grounds. You sit down while playing with your wand, swishing it while practicing some chants (without actually doing it). You sit on one of the grounds, leg straight while you lean on one of the pillars there. There is a soft footstep coming to you and someone took the opposite part of the pillars. You turn your head to catch Renjun’s body mirroring yours, but he is holding a book.

“Complicated.” He shrugs coyly.

You toss your head to the side and smile "Renjun, how did you find me? " Your easy-going Gryffindor traits show up and Renjun calmly looks up from his book to look over his shoulder to you too. “Maybe from this?” he offers you a Marauder’s Map and you gasp.

“How can you have one?” you want to take it from his hand, but he is faster.

Before you can ask more questions, Renjun diverts the topic and asks you about the group study. "So, are you sure your Slytherin and Hufflepuff boys want me to be in the group?" Renjun bashfully asks you this.

You laugh "They're more than happy when you accept their offer. Truth is we all suck at the hard charms. We need a tutor and we also need one more friend to make the space full. You're on our first list."

"I am honored to be first in the list, and I also like having friends to study with. So, tell me what the schedule is." With that, you wave your wand to bring you a piece of paper. "Accio schedule." The schedule paper lands on Renjun's slender fingers from your small pocket and the soft looking boy runs his eyes through the timetable. "Great, I can adjust my classes for this." You feel your heart can't take it anymore when he looks into your eyes deeply.

"So, see you tomorrow afternoon." You stand up trying to leave the ground, since the sleeping hours are coming, but his hand reaches for your wrist. "Sorry, do you want to go watch the quidditch practice between our team tomorrow? It's after lunch." Renjun scratches his neck. You nod "I will!" He smiles "Great, see you! Good night."

You raise your eyebrow "My hand" And he gasps as he lets go of your wrist. "Sorry" Both of you laugh and you finally go back to your room. Things were great, you and Renjun slowly became closer.

You hate the silly rules of staying over your own common room. Like dang you want to meet Renjun in his common room, but you know you’re not the smartest one to unlock their password. Not to mention you are not ready to have eyes pierced on you as you enter the room (if you ever succeed)

So, you end up only able to meet Renjun when he sees you on the hallway and with Jeno and Jaemin. He sometimes appears to you in the garden and you once found him chilling on the school’s astronomy tower in the middle of the night. He’s daring enough to leave his bed and you found him stargazing.

After your one encounter on the astronomy tower, that becomes your regular meeting place with Renjun.

Like tonight, both of you sneaked out of your beds, tiptoeing perfectly through the stairs. Somehow escaping the ears of Mr Filch and voila both of you are smiling ear to ear as the moonlight glows through your faces.

You sit on the porch, suddenly regretting your stupid head for forgetting the scarf. The wind is pretty harsh, and you try to hug your body. Renjun is busy watching the sky through his binoculars. You gave him your binoculars when you discovered he also loves space and the galaxy.

“Want to look at the stars?” Renjun looks at you and hands you the binocular. You nod your head while trying your best to not shake from the cold, but it is cold.

“Silly, forgot your scarf?” he unwinds his own blue silver knit scarf and steps closer to wrap it over you.

“What about you?” you feel worried about his condition. Renjun only shakes his head, “I wore warmer clothes. Also, you shouldn’t fall sick. You need to prepare for your O.W.L tomorrow. Just watch the sky.” He quickly changes the topic when he sees your annoyed face of bringing up O.W.L

You take his advice when he pushes your body to face the sky and you bring the object to your eyes. He was right, the night sky is always mysterious and calming, somewhere out there two of you believe another universe with aliens exists.

Renjun secretly watches you in admiration. He never expects to get this close with you, physically and mentally. By now, he knows your most embarrassing story, your favorite food, and your favorite star.

“Renjun! Quick make a wish!” you tug on his sweater and pull his hand when your eyes catch a shooting star.

Renjun is quick to realize your hand is still squeezing his arm, but he closes his own eyes and makes his own wish. You wish with all your might, things will be better for you and Renjun. You want him, you love him and basically, you’re so ready to risk everything just to get him. Creepy? No, that is love.

“So, what did you wish for?” he whispers near your ear, you see him shivering so you naturally take off the scarf and try your best to share it between both of you.

Renjun’s cheek blushed, “Didn’t think of that. You sure are smarter at things like that.”

You giggle “About your question, don’t you know a wish should remain secret or it won’t work.”

The young man scoffs, “You believe that?”

You nod “Well I thought you do too.”

Renjun smiles, “Fine. I will also keep mine.”

You can no longer hold back your yawn and you realize if both of you stay in this cold air, you’ll need to call in sick and that is not happening. Not when you need to catch up on all class materials.

“See you Injun-ah,” you wave as you drape the scarf back on him. He smells your sweet musk perfume and something tingles Renjun’s mind.

He remembers he had smelt that same hint of scent somewhere, but where. In confusion, the Ravenclaw walks back to his room. Only when his head hits his pillow does he finally remember where he encountered that smell. None other than that silly amortentia potion class. Take a whiff and you’ll know who that special person is.

“Tell me again how he always managed to find you?” Jaemin asks you about how Renjun always finds you. Both of you are sitting in the garden, taking a whiff of fresh air.

You sigh, you know you shouldn’t be telling him this, but you think Jaemin can keep secrets.

“He has a Marauder’s map.” You whisper under your breath.

Jaemin’s eyes lighten and his jaw drops. He really looks glowing with happiness like he won a lottery.

“(Y/n)~” his sing-song tone comes out and you mutter a curse under your breath. Oh no, he is going to ask you something. Which is true.

“Is it possible if you borrow the map from Renjun? Just for a second.” He pouts and draws random lines on your arm. You pull your hand away and slap his hand “What are you thinking? Go borrow by yourself.”

He drives his eyes to his feet, “I really need it, but I guess Renjun won’t let me borrow it.”

You scoff “You know it already. I never even touched it Jaem, it’s really precious after all.”

Jaemin, a total charmer, looks you in the eyes with his sickening puppy eyes “Please, I need it to meet Jeno secretly too! He seems tired but he is hiding it from us…”

“Your point?” you cut the crap out of him.

Jaemin smiles and you see his cunningness really popping up when he bribes you to help him “Point is, can you just take the map from him for a while and then I’ll use it to find Jeno, then you return it to him. Simple!”

You groan “How is that simple? That’s stealing!”

“Borrowing, just that he won’t realize it’s ever gone from his hand.” Jaemin shrugs his shoulder

“It’s not an honest game. You said ``borrow not steal and return.”

“Then try borrowing it from him, he doesn’t talk to me about the map so it’ll be weird if I ask him about that. He will be mad at you for spilling secrets and I know you love him so much.” He smirks, knowing that he won your internal battle.

You sigh, Jaemin really traps you in the mouse trap eh?

“Fine, let me try to borrow it from him. What will I get in return?”

“Woah you're so calculative! I thought we are friends and friends help each other?”

You really regret not joining Jeno to study with Renjun, this Slytherin man is really cunning… luring you to leave the library to “take in the fresh air” but ended up dealing with a dangerous project.

“Okay if you insist, I’ll say if the map worked, I’ll be able to accompany Jeno and he will be happier and you want to see Jeno happier right? Also you’re my best greatest courageous friend, isn’t this like a challenge?” he stares at you with great compassion plus hitting your chivalry ego and since no one is there to slap you, you nod your head.

“Okay Jaemin.” The Gryffindor spirit of not thinking about an action carefully is here.

Jaemin smirks and waves you goodbye after slipping a small tube of potion to your hand. He disappeared like that and you start to think of a way to talk with him about the map, while staring at disbelief for the Felix Felicis in your hand. Dang that Slytherin boy really is questionable.

You spend the afternoon thinking of a way to get Renjun’s map and you finally choose to ask him slowly.

“Renjun! What are the things you always keep in your bag?” you ask randomly but Renjun and you did this a lot of time, so he doesn’t smell your smoke.

He thinks for a while, “Nothing much, books and the map, some quills and chocolates? Why?”

You nod “It’s okay, just curious.”

He doesn’t pester you about it, only talking more about different things.

“Hey, tomorrow is Sunday. Mind to just sit and enjoy the day off? We sit in the fountain courtyard.”

Your brain finds a chance to take his map and so you nod your head.

--

You drop the Felix Felicis potion on your breakfast tea that Sunday morning and you meet Renjun who is looking so good in his casual outfit.

You’re nervous, though luck is favoring you, you are still battling yourself whether you should just snatch the map or ask him nicely.

After talking about different things and driving his attention to other things, you inch closer to Renjun and stare at his lips. Somehow your brain is focused on his lips and oh did you forget you took a potion this morning?? Because your silly head wants to kiss his lips so bad and luck is really on your side.

“Why are you staring at my lips? You really like them don’t you?” Renjun boldy asks, something so uncommon about him.

You gulp and blush, but your heart secretly wants to kiss him.

“Come here,” he pulls your hand closer and once your shoulder crashes with his, he kisses you right in the middle of the day when everyone can see you two sharing a slow kiss.

Your head almost stops working but suddenly Jaemin’s shadow appears in your mind and you quickly put your hand into Renjun’s bag. You didn’t know the lucky potion could be this wonderful because once your hand enters the bag you find the paper already.

Renjun was so focused on the kiss that he didn’t notice your hand slipping the map to your pocket. Only when you’re done did you finally break the kiss.

He blushes and you chuckle “That was intense.”

Yes the kiss was intense but the reason your heart beats super-fast is because of the action you just did. Stealing.

“I love you Renjun,” you whisper, feeling a bit sad for lying to him… but you don’t want to be embarrassed after what you did go well.

“I love you too, I didn’t know our feelings were mutual.” He innocently rubs his burning face and you want to die from lying with him.

“Renjun, sorry for suddenly leaving, but I have to go, I got something to do.” You stand up from the grounds.

“Huh? Oh okay I guess you look rushed.” He stands up too, “Where do you have to go? I can walk you there.”

You shake your head and reject his offer, “No, it’s personal. If you don’t mind, I’d rather go by myself. Bye Injun! See you!” you run away from him and disappear before he can even bid his farewell.

The ravenclaw just shrugs his shoulders and returns to his common room. When he kisses you earlier, he feels so fuzzy and fireworks are popping in his heart. As weird as it sounds, the kiss made him come up with a new imaginative creature.

Yes, Renjun is a ravenclaw who enjoys imaginative creatures. He is talented in drawing, so he spends his time sketching and naming creatures he has in his head. Though you may ask how a Ravenclaw believes in uncertain things with no concrete proof, Renjun has been hiding this guilty pleasure from anyone.

He hums as he sits on his chair and starts arranging his paints. The sun is angled perfectly at this time and he is more than excited to paint the new love creature he has in his mind.

On the other hand, you are running to meet Jaemin.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no goods.” You tap your wand and open the map to quickly find Jaemin.

There he is, somehow lurking in the dining hall. Weird.

You pocket the map and make your way to him.

“Use this quickly. I don’t know how long it takes for Renjun to notice.” You stuff the map into Jaemin’s pocket.

His eyes twinkle “Oh gosh you did it. You do this for me? Thank you!” he taps your shoulder and flies away “I’ll return it to you once I am done. Promise.”

You just wait for him with anxiety crawling in your heart. Something about stealing, lying, and using potion is just not settling well in your Gryffindor heart. You let out a deep breath, and relax a bit.

Only that it didn’t even last long and things are going downhill from here.

While you wait nervously in the dining room, you find yourself face to face with a fuming and disappointed Renjun. “You stole the map, didn’t you?!” he holds back all the anger inside to avoid reaching for your collar.

You gulp, of course he noticed. It’s been almost two hours. Couldn’t Jaemin find Jeno, bring Jeno to return the map to you then go disappear somewhere. Why should you wait for this long.

“I-“ you stutter “I’m sorry.” You apologize, your heart tells you lying more will just bring you to a deeper pit.

Renjun shakes his head, “You stole but I’m hurt you tricked me! Did you mean the kiss or not?”

Your eyes widened, he was just confused about the kiss? Oh how cute. You want to open your mouth, but it looks like the cat got your tongue again and Renjun was faster in assuming things when he is angry.

“You know what? I don’t care about your kiss, I don’t even care about your explanation. Give it back.” His palm opens up to you and you bite your lips “It’s not with me.”

His eyes would pop off from his head “You what? You lost it or gave it to someone?”

Damn Ravenclaws and their quick brains.

“I’ll give it back to you, I promise.” You reach out for his hand, but he snatches his hand away to his chest before you can appeal to him.

“You know what? I found it already.” He looks over your shoulder and sees Jaemin coming to you with a troubled face.

“And by the look of Jaemin’s face, I guess this is not my day.” Renjun sounds super sad and you hate yourself for actually starting all of this. He was in a super good mood earlier and you ruined everything. Now will you ruin your friendship too? and love interest.

You heard Jaemin apologizing (something so uncommon) about something and the next second, you don’t hear anything from Renjun’s lips, just an eerie silence between them and suddenly the man in blue sweater runs away from you and Jaemin.

“I may or may not have accidentally been caught by some other Slytherin, and they wanted to see the map. It ripped.” Jaemin mutters slowly and you feel your world has stopped turning and you should just leave Hogwarts before facing Renjun.

--

Renjun left both of you and there’s nothing you can do. There is, but your brain stops working and your Gryffindor heart cowers and runs away. You sit devastated on the ground and Jaemin copies you.

“We can try to fix this map,” Jaemin tries to cheer you up but you shake your head “We can’t. Even if we can, I don’t think the bond of our friendship can be fixed.” you pull your knees to your chest and put your chin on them

“I’ll find a way to fix this. I promise, I broke the map so let me take the blame for this.” Jaemin stands up with the ripped map and he casts the repair charm.

You just stare at it soullessly. Well the map did come back into one piece, but Renjun’s disappointment can’t leave your head.

“I am sorry (y/n).” Jaemin sincerely apologizes to you and you just hum a silent reply

“Look, I believe Renjun will forgive you. He might not forgive me, but I deserve this. This is not your fault. I made you trick him. I am the guilty one.” your best friend tries to cheer you up, but your mind keeps on thinking Renjun.

--

That young ravenclaw did come into dinner, well he has to as he’s the prefect. But when you leave your chair to tap his shoulder and talk with him, he already leaves with the big group and you find yourself alone, losing your chance.

You ask around where he is, and everyone says he’s in the prefect bathroom enjoying a long bath. You hate how he has a hideout you can’t come to. So, the only thing you can do is wait.

You think of ways to apologize and how he can forgive you. Should you do his chores? Should you do his essays? gosh no he’s smarter than you. Should you buy him some new paint and drawing books? He likes to draw right, but you bite your lips when you remember your allowance this month was finished for good when you bought that new broom.

You go to the toilet, and come back to ask where he is on a passing Ravenclaw, only to curse when they said he is already in the common room.

Great, now you really won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Hey (y/n), I handed him the map already and asked sorry.” Jaemin suddenly taps your shoulder when you are walking to your room.

You just nod “Lucky you, looks like he is not that disappointed at you. Must be because he is afraid you’d turn him into a frog.” you try to tease Jaemin but even your own joke doesn't taste good in your tongue.

Renjun tries his best to avoid you, or more likely avoid hearing your apology or explanation about what happened that day. It’s as if you’re a deadly plague! He did show up a couple of times to the group study meetups, but he never talks to you about anything other than asking your question about the lesson or when the boys ask him about his nerves about the test.

You feel sick from all of the studying, but most of your stress comes from Renjun’s constant ignorance towards you. He did talk to you about other things, he explained to you the lessons you’re still struggling with but he never speaks of that day as if it never happens. Though some people like that better and just brush it off, like Jaemin for example. You’re not satisfied with this. You need his real acceptance of apology or you can’t feel ease in your heart.

You tried all you can, sending him a message filled with handwritten apology, a chocolate of his favorite brand, a chocolate frog, some badly drawn apology painting, a poem, and even try to bring up the conversation whenever you meet but he always finds a way to smile and drive the topic to another thing.

His playful gaze can still be felt by you and he still helps you occasionally in classes you struggle in. He even helps until the last days of the O.W.L test and the guilt in your heart is just piling up.

--

“Good luck on your O.W.L '' Renjun one night smiles at you after cleaning up the books and quills. You gasp “Thank you, you too and Renjun I am sorry.” you finally get the chance to utter your apology intimately without anyone else near you.

Renjun sighs “You’re still sad about that?” you bite your lips and nod “I can’t take it off my head.” The man in blue robes chuckles and messes your hair “Silly. Stop worrying about that. Just focus on your studies okay so that you can pass this O.W.L” you turn red from his action, heart beating super fast upon seeing his cute smile and hand touching your head.

“Alright, I need my sleep. You go to bed too okay, see you for breakfast tomorrow.” he tucks a hair away from your face and bops your nose. You see him walk away after saying good night and when you want to go to your room, you notice a blue scarf he left on the chair.

“Renjun forgot this.” you wrap it around your neck because you have lots of stuff to bring back and slowly you walk to your room, enjoying how his scent softly brushes your nose when the wind is blowing in your direction. You feel calm now that Renjun told you not to worry about it and seeing how he’s back to playing with your hair makes you feel less guilty.

“I’ll return this tomorrow,” you mumble to yourself only to wrap it tighter to your neck when you sleep.

--

The O.W.L this year is nerve consuming and stressful. You and the other students are all squeezed and no one is having their energy other than studying, eating and sleeping. You’ve talked less with the boys, you’re busy isolating yourself in the study room or just in the garden to study and focus on yourself. You also forget about Renjun’s scarf and he seems to forget it too, judging by how he is using another scarf.

All of you made it through the excruciating exam and finally you’re packing your suitcase.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jeno puts his face into your face on the morning of the beginning of the holiday. You have a beaming smile on your face and you happily hug him “Thank you for your help! I did my O.W.L nicely because of your help!” Jeno only chuckles and laughs at your remarks. He only plays with your hair and pushes you away only for you to hit Jaemin’s chest and the cheeky guy is not ready to catch you. You close your eyes, preparing yourself to hit the hard ground and be embarrassed for the rest of the year in Hogwarts, but you didn’t hit the ground. You open your eyes and see Jaemin already standing next to Jeno, eyes running through the hall as he winks and waves his hand to the passing students. So, who is holding you?

“Hoah easy Jeno, you pushed her too hard!” A soft voice you missed. A voice that sounds so cute when he whines or complains. A voice that has been whispering all day all night in your head. Renjun.

“Renjun! Sorry.” you brush yourself as you stand up and tidy your looks. Suddenly feeling conscious if you’ll look good. Renjun smiles, he has his trunk by his hand too, looks like every one of us is going home this Christmas.

“It’s great to see you before the long holiday, (y/n)!” Renjun pushes a small smile and you are busy reaching into your backpack for something. “I need to return this! You left it in the library last time.” you hand Renjun the neatly folded blue scarf which surprises him. “Oh it’s with you! I thought I lost it.”

You laugh “Sorry, I forgot to return it to you.” you extend your arm to him. Renjun quickly takes the scarf and opens it, the next thing you know is that he inches closer to you, wraps the scarf softly on your neck and his lips hover above your own lips. When you look into his orbs, you see how he’s waiting for your permission and while Renjun still has his hand holding on to the scarf on your neck, you close your eyes and feel him pull you by the scarf and seal your lips with a long quiet kiss.

You feel butterflies in your stomach as he gently keeps his hands moving to secure your neck and your heart is thumping so hard.

“I forgive you, go enjoy your Christmas.” Renjun sincerely laughs and kisses your cheek “So, from today is it day one?”

You nod “Day one!” Your heart feels light, the heavy guilty feeling in your heart is gone, his kiss shows how he is not angry at you and you feel his passionate and sincere desire to have you as his significant other.

Jeno and Jaemin pretend they don’t see both of you, just waving their hands to any passing students, telling them to send owls, saying they’ll see them next year and all the season greetings.

“Alright, my train is leaving love. I’ll see you next year. Send me an owl , okay!” Renjun pinches your cheek that’s super red from his sudden actions. You just have a big smile on your face as you nod and wave “See you soon!”

Jeno and Jaemin help you put your stuff into the car your brother has sent to pick you up. You thank the boys, hugging them for being here with you through ups and downs and you’ve made peace with Jaemin. That guy promised you he’ll bring you back your favorite candy from his hometown.

As you sit down in your car, head looking back to the majestic and mystical castle, you smile when you remember how Renjun pulls you into a very sweet kiss and that’s enough to show you how he’s not mad or disappointed at you. You were overthinking, but that’s you. That’s something about your gryffindor heart, always wanting to be responsible for your faults and it feels good to finally see Renjun saying he forgave you already.

Magic and love. Might work side to side, might not. Whichever that is the potion or your attitude, Renjun loves you the way you love him too and that’s what matters.

end

[greyeyedmonster-18]

hello! this isn’t a surprise, i’m sure, but would u have any other fluffy harry-sirius scenes from the cut folder? maybe a younger harry?

(also!! thank you sm for doing this, it’s such an honor being able to read everything you’ve written and im so glad you’re giving us a behind-the-scenes look into stuff 🥰)

hellloo bestie <3 younger harry? unfortunately the youngest ive written harry into actual *things* is eight years old (because, ya know, we have a personal bias towards older bebes and i actually have very little frame of reference for what they call "middle childhood" ((ages 6-10 ish))) .

BUT. and this will give you a glimpse as to how insane i am, there was an entire other version of The Best Worst Thing created where Jily returned and Harry clocked in about seven? younger physically and emotionally and the entire story would've been SO different. so like, it wasn't....cut because it isn't in existence but like...here you go.

Sirius sat on the floor of the sitting room across from Harry, drawing pad over his knees, carefully studying the boy in front of him. Regardless of the fact Sirius was far from being an artist, Harry was notoriously wiggly. But it was Sunday morning and Remus could be heard fumbling in their bedroom (judging by muffled noises that were definitely swear words) and Harry had wanted to draw. As usual. Harry wanted to draw Sirius.

Sirius glanced up from his paper, where his portrait of Harry using a black crayon was mostly messy lines, with an amused smile. Harry wore the most serious expression when he drew, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration.

Sirius stuck his tongue out quickly.

"Sirius, stop it!"

"You're doing it."

"Am not!"

"Should put a bucket under to catch all that drool."

"I don't drool!"

"My mistake," Sirius teased, "Can I see the masterpiece yet?"

"I have to color it, it's just a drawing right now."

"I like drawings."

"You like everything. Even peas. And peas are evil, I think. They'll take over the world if you're not careful...too many of them..." Harry trailed off as he looked down at his paper.

"The wizarding world or the muggle world?"

"Both. Best we don't have them again, I think."

"Ah, alright."

"Moony will agree. He spits them into a napkin too."

Sirius snorted, making a mental note to stop putting peas into stews and potpies and to attempt to introduce another vegetable to his household comprised of sweet teeth.

"I'll show you mine?" Sirius asked, crossing his legs in front of him, and Harry's interest piqued, looking excitedly at the paper as Sirius turned it around, "It's abstract."

"You did a good job," Harry nodded, reassuringly, "Got my hair and...glasses." Sirius laughed, his godson's face giving away that he very much did not think Sirius did a good job, despite his encouraging words. "You did your best, and that's a good job!"

"Thank you, babe."

Harry looked at the picture again though, moving closer on the floor so his knees could touch Sirius's, "...My...Dad...he...has the same hair."

"He does. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Does...he know how to draw?"

Sirius laughed, "He might be worse than me, I'm afraid," and Harry's face fell a little, "But...I bet if you asked...he would. And you two can make...lovely messy-haired portraits together."

Harry smiled again, "This should be hung up on the fridge."

[luimagines]

He reacts to seeing you Sick/Wounded Part 3

Final part of the prompt below!

Masterlist

First Part Previous Part

Scenario under the cut!

Four

Four starts looking through Wind’s borrowed telescope at the monster below them and tries to search for weak points and guard trails. There’s a good number of them, at least two per person here but they’re closer to the town than anyone anywhere is comfortable with so they have to go.

“AHHHCHOOO!!”

Multiple monsters look in your direction.

“Will you keep it down?” Legend snapped. “Sneeze a little louder next time, I don’t the monsters in the back heard you.”

“I’m not trying to be loud.” You sniffle and furiously wipe your face. “There’s got be something in the air here. I’m not allergic period. This just isn’t like me.”

Four nods in agreement and takes his eyes away from the telescope. He hands it back to Wind, who eagerly takes his spot and makes his way toward you.

In all honesty, you look miserable. And have since that morning.

You’re constantly sneezing, your nose and eyes are red and blotchy and it goes out to cheeks. You’ve been blowing your nose on random leaves since you’ve run out of tissues earlier that day and it continuously seems to be plugged despite it all. You also seem to be shivering ever so slightly but you never made any mention of being cold.

Four frowns to himself and pokes your neck, only to startled into placing his whole hand there. You’re covered in a cold sweat but warm despite the temperature outside.

“What the heck Four?” You knock his hand away and take a step back.

“I think you’re sick.” He blurts with as much grace a bull in a china shop.

“I’m no-” You cut yourself off with a cough this time. It’s so strong that you bend over and fall to your butt on the ground with barely any time in between to catch your breath.

“Benched.” Time turns on his heel and points you back the way you came. “Go back to the town. You’re not fit to fight.”

You whimper after the cough attack and nod, getting to your feet. Four doesn’t like the idea of you going back alone but he knows his friends need the numbers to take the monsters down fast enough, so he doesn’t offer for a moment. He tries to come to a decision before they make any more moves without him but Time speaks again.

“Four. Go with them. Make sure they actually make it to the town.” Time commands and turns to the rest of the group. “We’re going to need fire power.”

Four catches Warrior and Wild grin manically. “Leave it to us!”

“You had to say something.” Four snickers at Twilight misfortune and jogs slightly to catch up with you.

You’re still trying to wipe at your face with your sleeve and it leaves a trail of snot and tears on the fabric.

It’s a bit disgusting....Ok, it’s super gross and it makes Four want to gag somewhat but he’ll let you have it.

Being sick is gross. He’s just got to make sure your clothes are washed when it passes.

“Four?” You call.

He perks up and speeds up to fall in line with your steps. “I’m here.”

You look at him for a moment and sniffle again. “ ’m sorry you got sent back with me. You looked excited to take some monsters down.” 

“I’m...” Four looked to the side and tried to find the right words to talk to you. “I mean, I’ll live with it. I’m not that disappointed to be honest. I was thinking of joining you anyway. It didn’t feel right for you head out on your own.”

“But you want to support the others.” You argue. “I could see it. You had to think about it.”

“Ok well-”

“There’s a lot of them out there, isn’t there?” You press and frown to yourself. “A lot of monsters that are going to take all their hands and then some to be taken down and I get sent back and you have to come with me-”

“Ok, hold up.” Four grabs your bicep and shakes it a little. “Slow that down. It’s not like you asked to get sick. I know just as much you do that we’d both rather be up there with them. That’s a given. But you need to take care of yourself as well and I don’t mind being with you anyway.”

You push your mouth to the side and don’t look at him. “I better not get you sick.”

Four snorts ever so slightly and moves his hand from you arm to your hand, lacing your fingers together and swinging them ever so slightly. He knows you don’t want him to see the smile on your face when he does so but it’s your reaction every time.

“While I doubt it’ll happen, you’ll take care of me if I do get sick, right?”

“Always.” 

Warrior

They were in a new area this time. Warrior can’t recognize the landscape or the town’s names as they pass so he’s content to let someone else take the lead for a change.

The town’s people had mentioned a sealed temple of sorts that hadn’t been used in ages. Bad things had been happening in the area so they were advised to steer clear.

Naturally they had to go check it out.

Don’t leave no stone unturned and all that jazz.

If anything, it sounds more like a dungeon at this point so he’s a bit excited to get some practice in. 

Warrior walks near the front of the group and lets outa whistle when the reach their goal.

It a large dark blue building with three spiraling towers in a triangle-fecta with multiple columns around the front of it, acting as a sort of imposing gate. The columns themselves are full of grotesque monstrous faces, which are realistic enough to cause some discomfort amongst the ranks. 

“Oh, we’re going to be here for hours.” Legend groans and tilts his head to the sky. “Maybe even days! Why are here again?”

“To eradicate evil before it grows beyond it’s borders.” Time take a breath and walks forward. “The people are afraid and it’s our job to put an end to it.”

Warrior can agree with that, it’s what the hero does after all. Fine print and all that.

But you make a small whimper from behind him and turns around to see you. You don’t pleased one bit with your arms crossed and your head down. “I don’t like this place.”

Right. Not a Link. This technically isn’t in your job description, unlike them.

“You could wait out here?” Wild offers. Warrior remembers that they’re alike in a  away with the lack of experience with dungeons and wonders if maybe either one of them can stay back as well. Surely, they don’t all have to go in, do they?

Sky grins good naturally and punches you gently on your shoulder. “You good?”

“This whole place feels wrong.” You reply. “Do we have to go through there?”

“It’s because it feels wrong that we have to go in.” Hyrule shrugs. “We have to make it better.”

“If we find loot inside, it’s just a bonus.” Wind bounces up to you with grin.

“What’s the problem? Are you scared?” Legend taunts. “Do you need someone to hold your hand?”

“Are you offering?” You snap back.

“He may not be, but I am.” Warrior holds his hand out and smiles at you with as much charm as he can conjure up. He has no idea what possesses him to comment and he hopes that you don’t take offence to it. He wasn’t trying to mock you.

To his surprise, you look at his hand for a little moment longer than he think it’s worth and gently reach out to lace your fingers together.

Your hand is warm and you don’t look at him when he feels you give it a small squeeze. “Ok, let’s go.”

This is not a big deal. He’s not going to make it a big deal.

He just wanted to be a good friend is all. Yeah, that’s all it was.

As the group you all head into the cursed building and are immediately faced with choices.

Five hallways. No end in sight in any of them and no other options.

“Guess we split the party.” Twilight shrugged. “I’ll go with Wind.”

This was first pair off and others started to claim a partner for the journey ahead.

“I guess I already have my partner.” Warrior smiles and begins to walk away. “Should we take the far left?”

“Don’t you know, you never split the party.” You sing under your breath and tug on Warrior’s hand to the beat. “Clerics in the back, keep those fighter hale and hearty. The wizard in the middle where he can shed some light and you never let the damn thief out of sight.”

You’re not paying attention to him.

He chalks it up to your previous nervous energy and takes the lead instead.

The hallway you both travel through is dark and beginning to shrink. the two of you are now shoulder to shoulder and with more time, have to walk in a single file line.

You don’t let go of his hand.

Occasionally there is the lone torch to keep the path ahead illuminated but Warrior thinks that they’re more for decoration and peace of mind than any actual use. You know, considering the vast space of nothing in front of you.

The hallway comes to an abrupt stop and Warrior can feel you crash into his back. Before him a large room with torches on every other wall, eight walls in total, counting the one with the entryway. There’s nothing inside but a single glowing blue ball of light.

It reminds him faintly of Proxy and he steps inside the room to get a better look.

“Will o’ the wisp.” You mutter from behind and stop from entering the room any farther, stopping Warrior as well in the process.

“What?” He turns to you and can see how tense you are.

“Back home,” You begin. “They are known to be by swamps, bogs and the like. They’re supposed to mislead travelers and are used as a symbol of a goal that’s impossible to reach and are typically sinister in nature. What ever you do, don’t follow it.”

Warrior takes the warning to heart, takes a step and returns to your side.

Nothing like Proxy at all.

“What do we do then?” He asks, not taking his eyes off of it.

“I don’t know...” You gulp. “I didn’t even think they’d be here. They’re not known to be fighters... just mess with your head and lead you to your doom.”

On cue, the light shifts and begins to circle the room. Warrior makes a grab for his sword and you copy his movements. The two of you stand back to back and watch it closely.

It flies straight into a wall after a dizzying moment and a door appears where there wasn’t one before.

“That’s it?” Warrior stands down but his grip is tight, on both your hand and his weapon. “Guess that’s the way out.”

“No. What did I just say? Don’t follow it.”

“But it’s gone.”

“It went that way. Don’t go in the same direction.” You stress.

Warrior lets go of your hand and turns to stare at you head on, taking a step back and entering the rest of the room. He goes to open his mouth to reply- but his foot goes lower than he anticipates.

He’s activated something.

You jump as the entryway where you once were, shuts and the torches go out instantly, plunging the whole room into darkness.

“Link?” You call out and Warrior has no idea where you are all of a sudden.

He regrets letting go of your hand.

“Still here.” He chuckles nervous and finishes the sentence with an audible gulp.

The Will o’ wisp returns from a different direction and he hears you scream.

Warrior is quick to reach for Legend’s fire rod and he fires it into the air.

The ball of light leaves but the he’s taken gives just enough light to see what’s happened. You’ve ended up on the floor and somehow took a hit to your head that’s pouring blood all over your face, with a massive skeleton over you, poised to take another hit.

The fire from the rod dies out and the room goes black again.

But at least Warrior knows where you are.

And now he’s pissed.

He fires the rod again right at the monster and feels a vindictive sort of satisfaction when the creature catches aflame. He’s quick to launch the monster away from you and help you up. He passes you the rod, taking a full hold on his sword and stands in front of you.

“Light up the room and monsters, yeah? I’ll finish them off.” He says and drops into a defensive stance.

“Bad things happen with Wips.” You mutter and prepare to fire rod again and instead spin across the floor. Some of the torches relight but it’s clear they won’t last long.

More monsters start to appear from the doors the wisp activates now that the initial key has been set off.

“I’ll listen to you next time!” Warrior finishes the first beast and begin on the next.

“I think I’ll leave the dungeon stuff to the Links. Leave you, your puzzles and your monsters to each other.” You start talking to yourself. “This is no way to make a living.”

“Tell me about it. I didn’t even have these in my Hyrule.”

Hyrule

Hyrule has no clue what he’s was doing.

He could admit that.

He was used to having magic at his disposal and fixing the problem with it. But this? This was a little beyond his pay grade.

He wasn’t even being paid.

“ ‘Rule!” You cry from the bed. You hand is outstretched in an attempt to reach him but he’s too far away from your grasp.

He walks over to your side and grabs your hand. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“Can I have a glass of water?” You grip his hand and he’s hit with a wave of concern when he sees it’s not really that strong.

“Yeah, sure.” He says, getting up. “Give me a minute.”

You smile at him and close your eyes again. He hates how miserable you look. Flushed cheeks and forehead, raging fever, cold sweat running off you in a vain attempt to cool yourself down, you’re shaking and he catches you mumble every now and then but he can’t catch what you say.

Hyrule’s silver lining is that you’ve been mostly asleep through the day, making his job a little easier as nurse and doctor. The most he can complain about is that it’s a little boring.

He still doesn’t know what’s he’s doing.

He had thought that it was something he could handle but but was only within the first hour that he realized he was powerless to help you with anything.

He feels a little useless.

The others had gone out to survey the town they’re cooped up in and get details and equipment.

Hyrule knows himself well enough and has learned enough from the others that he’s pretty much... well, useless in a market. Money isn’t really a concept where he’s from or at least not with the bells and whistles and unwritten rules that everyone else seems to know at the drop of a hat.

On top of that, with Hyrule’s bleeding heart, he had offered to be the one to stay behind and look after you while they were gone most of the day. He figured that if he was the groups healer then he could help you with this too.

Wrong.

Again, he’s thankful you’ve mostly been sleeping.

When he’s retrieved your request and made it back to the room, he stops dead in his tracks at the door.

There’s... something over you. A shadow like blob with no discernable shape, figure or features. The revelation shocks Hyrule into stillness at the idea of you being in danger.

It’s not outwardly hurting you. Just watching.

Or so he thinks anyway.

You still look peacefully unaware of the conscious world and look to be in a deep sleep once more. Meaning, you have idea that this.. thing is here.

Hyrule doesn’t move but he looks around is immediate vicinity. His sword is barely within arms reach and he knows that the step he’s about to take is directly on a squeaky board. It would alert his presence and he doesn’t have anyway of currently fighting that thing.

He crouches down and places your cup by the door frame. He then places is hand just beyond the squeaky board and crawls those few inches to reach his sword.

As soon as it’s within his grasp, he calls on his magic and throws his astral sword in the thing’s direction.

It makes contact, but does no damage.

The shadow mass merely “stands” straighter and stills all movement.

This thing may not have a face but Hyrule is sure that it’s checking him out, assessing him, gauging what kind of threat he might be if he were to attack again.

Hyrule readies himself into a defensive stance and glares right back.

There are no words spoken.

Just as he’s about to charge, it dips down and disappears through the floor boards. The air in room ceases to be charged with unfathomable energy and he knows that it’s gone.

Hyrule is confused and on edge. He’s never seen something like before and he doubts that it’ll help your condition if he asks you or if you would know anything about it.

He straps his sword on his back, just in case, and picks up your cup.

“Link?” You call again, trying to push yourself up into a sitting position. You’re still very weak and very tired and you give up half way.

“I have your water.” He says instead, trying his best to smile for you. He holds it out to you and hopes that you don’t notice that his hands are shaking.

You grin in response and take it, seemingly none the wiser.

You sigh in relief as you sip. “You’re a good friend. Thanks for staying with me. I’m sure it’s been pretty boring when all the others are been productive.”

“I don’t mind one bit. I’ll be here for as long as you need me.” He sits on the bed.

Hyrule continuously has no idea what he’s doing.

But he certainly isn’t going to be bored from here on out. 

He has to protect you now, from whatever that was, so he will. 

[startanewdream]

traitor

For @sweeethinny, who prompted for "8. You’re upset one night, and I need you to know that I’m here for you, and I’m kissing your forehead to show I’m here for you". She asked for a fight between Harry and James, but since it wasn't working, I made him discuss with Sirius for a subject that is very sensitive for them.

Angst, canon compliant, 2k words, and set right before the Potters casted the Fidelius Charm.

'You are mad, Sirius', James declares, eyes shining with undisguised fury. 'How could you —'

'Do you think I enjoy saying this?', Sirius replies, his voice in a carried whisper, none of them wanting to wake up the baby sleeping on his crib.

'It seems so if you are suggesting it'.

'I am not suggesting, I’m being honest here, James. There is a traitor between us'.

James shivers as it always happens when someone mentions that word. He hates it more than any other.

Traitor.

It's never really said out loud. It's whispered in fear, it's written in the eyes of every member of the Order he has seen lately, as few as they are, mistrust as they consider each other, as they look around and wonder who it might be.

Someone is betraying them.

It's not bad luck that they have been having lately, their numbers reducing slowly but consistently with information that only the Order should know. Someone has been spilling their secrets to the other side, to Voldemort.

They are losing this war because there is a traitor between them and it's becoming more obvious that the traitor is someone James has known most of his life.

But he can't accept it. Not after the last ten years. Not after the Marauders.

'It is not Remus', he insists, dragging Sirius outside Harry's room. 'It can't be'.

'Why not? He has been spending too much time away, he doesn't look like himself —'

'Of course he doesn't! You know what he has been doing'.

'Do I? Do you? Because he hasn't told us'.

‘We know it’s something to do with werewolves — but some things are classified, no one knows everything that’s going on —’

‘That only started recently’, Sirius reminds him, his voice insistent. ‘Before that, he knew about Dorcas and the Prewett and Dearborn —’

‘Same as we did’.

‘Well, considering Voldemort is after your son, I don’t think you are the traitor’, Sirius says sarcastically. ‘Or do you think I might be?’

‘Never’, James says easily, not an ounce of doubt in his voice. ‘But that’s it, Padfoot. I know you. I know Moony. I know Wormtail. I would give my life for any of you in a blink, and I can’t believe —’

‘There is a traitor, James’, Sirius cuts him. ‘And it’s one of the Marauders. It’s not me. It’s not you. It can’t be Peter, he would never have the heart for it. There is only one left’.

‘You are wrong, Sirius. I refuse to believe this is true’.

‘Just admit out loud there is a traitor, James’. Sirius grabs him by the shoulder, and James sees the tears in his grey eyes, all filled with despair and anguish. He knows Sirius hates this almost as he does. ‘Say it’.

‘I can’t’.

Sirius shakes his head. ‘Your family will die because you refuse to admit someone is betraying you? Are you so willing to risk Lily? Your infant son?’

‘Fuck you, Sirius’, James curses, his voice low and dark now. ‘You know I won’t risk their lives. You know I love them’.

‘Then cast that bloody charm. Hide yourselves. And don’t tell Remus’.

‘How can you say this? How can you turn your back to him so easily?’

‘Now fuck you, James. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I enjoy seeing you for the first time in months, seeing my godson for the first time, and having to tell you someone that used to be our best friend has changed sides?’

‘It surely seems easy’, he replies coldly. ‘Because I would never say this. I would never doubt any of you’.

‘Then you are a bloody fool! Oh, fuck it, I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and watch you kill yourself because you are just too stubborn!’

‘Then go!’, James yells, out of himself now, and he hears Harry crying in the other room. ‘We will ask someone else to be our Secret Keeper. Someone that will not have a problem sharing it with the people we trust’.

‘God, James! There is a moment to be loyal and there is a moment to be smart —’

‘It is not Remus, Sirius. I know him. There is not one single piece on his body that is evil’.

‘He is a werewolf’, Sirius replies, and now at least James sees the shame on his eyes as he throws back the word that always separated Remus from them and, yet, was what brought them together too. They changed their lives because of Remus’ condition.

‘And how many times did we support him for it? How many times did we assure him, in the boy’s dorm room, that it didn’t matter? That his place was there with us?’

‘We are not in school anymore. Real world is nothing like Hogwarts. That changes people’.

‘I know, I’m not stupid! But the friendship we forged there was true. It is true. I won’t give up on this’.

‘Then you’ll die’, Sirius says, furious once more. ‘And you’ll drag your family together because you are too loyal to believe someone is betraying you’.

And then Sirius passes by him, not looking back, and James has a mind to go after him; but Harry is still crying, so he enters his son’s room, picking him up and trying to soothe him as much as himself.

Harry sleeps eventually, but James’ pain doesn’t lessen. It won’t happen, not until this bloody war is over, and if the future of it depends upon the sleeping baby in his arms, then it’s still far away, because James won’t ever let anything happen to his son. He doesn’t care about a stupid prophecy, Harry is just a baby. He doesn’t get to be responsible for the wizarding world.

It’s James that should fix this. It’s his duty. He is a father, for Merlin’s sake, and even if he still doesn’t know what he is doing, he knows it’s his job to protect Harry from… from one of his friends.

That’s the worst thing he ever thought of.

He sits on the couch in Harry’s bedroom, in the place he watched Lily nurse Harry to sleep a hundred times before, and the tears fall quietly on his face. It’s the fear and the shame, the hate and the pain.

Someone is betraying them. They’ve moved back to Godric’s Hollow and placed his parent’s house under a dozen different protection spells all because their flat is London was attacked; it was guarded too, a new place that only a few knew about, and yet they had escaped by pure luck — five more minutes and they would have get caught in the fire.

And then it was obvious someone had leaked the information; Voldemort was there in person, hoping to kill the prophesied one, a baby that couldn’t even sit back then.

Now there is talk of the most drastic of the protections, the charm that Lily is working on to keep them away from the world, and everyone is telling him the same. Don’t trust your friends.

But he can’t not trust them. He loves them and they love him back. How could not, with everything they shared? James always wanted a bigger family; he had his parents, of course, but James had wanted brothers, someone his age that could share more of the things with him, because he had grown up loved and yet a little lonely. And he had found the companion he craved for in Sirius, Remus and Peter, the three Gryffindors with whom he was so lucky to share a dorm for seven years.

Merlin, he shared secrets with them. They broke the law together; they made the impossible when they were fifteen, all young and stupid and so bright. They trusted each other.

How can one of them ever betray him? How can he be so wrong about them?

Not Sirius, who he trusts more than his shadow, who is his brother in every way but by blood, who had looked for him when he had no family anymore; Sirius that is his best friend ever since they shared a compartment, Sirius who turned away from his family tradition and who joined James in every decision he had ever made.

Not Remus, who is the most humble of them, who they accepted with open arms and who always looked as if he didn’t believe he got to be happy, to be loved. Remus is the kindest, the most compassionate; who once a month turned into something that was not him at all, and still seemed to understand who were those animals that showed up every full moon, recognizing them for the friends they were.

Not Peter, who always needed their protection and their attention, looking as surprised as Remus that he was accepted; Peter who had always wanted to please, the first one to understand when someone had a problem and to offer comfort, who worked twice than any of the Marauders to join them in anything they wanted. Peter, who had been afraid but had not hesitated before joining the Order, because he was brave even if he didn’t believe in it sometimes.

It is not them. They are a group. The Marauders.

Mischief managed.

That kind of thing is not broken easily.

And yet Sirius is doubting and James is being forced to accept that someone is not speaking the truth, that someone actively told Voldemort how to go after each of the members of the Order until the moment they can present Voldemort with the thing he wants most…

His son. Not Harry…

‘James?’, Lily’s voice calls him softly, and a moment later she opens the door, the light from the hall illuminating the dark room.

‘In here’, he whispers, his voice rough, turning his face so she doesn’t see it. He places Harry quietly on his crib, careful not to wake him, and dries his face, watching his son sleeping. ‘I will just stay here a moment, Lily, I will —’

But he stops, because Lily is next to him, her arms around his waist as she lays her head against this shoulder.

‘Come on’, she asks, kissing his shoulder and dragging him outside. She takes him to the kitchen, making him sit at the table. ‘I made you tea’.

‘Thanks’.

She gives him a cup, standing next to him, her hands running through his hair soothingly. It makes him sleepy in a good way. Almost relaxed.

He wishes he could sleep until all of his problems were gone; or not. If that happened, someone else would have fixed them, and James doesn’t want to burden anyone else. It’s his job, as useless as he feels these days.

And yet James feels so tired.

‘I saw Sirius’, she whispers, just a little hesitating. ‘This is not what I was thinking of when I asked him to come see you’.

‘Yeah, talking about a traitor kind of kills the mood’.

‘James…’

‘I can’t do it, Lily. He says it’s Remus, that it can only be him, but it’s Moony. His favourite holiday is Easter because of the chocolate eggs, I mean, how can anyone be evil like that?’

‘I know’.

‘Or Peter, he cried when he held Harry for the first time, how was that the face of a traitor?’

‘I know’.

‘And Sirius — he hates the Dark Arts, it’s everything he stands against, it’s everything he isn’t —’

‘I know, James, I know’. She hugs him, her arms around his head, and he loses himself in the warmth of her body.

‘What do I do, Lily? How can I mistrust any of them?’

‘That I don’t know, love’, she whispers, her voice heavy too. ‘But we will need to. There can be only one Secret Keeper’.

He breaks a little apart to look her in the eyes. Lily looks sad too.

‘It’ll be Sirius’, he says, confident in this at least. Sirius would die before he ever betrayed them, and if James needs to trust someone with everything he holds the most, it will be in him, even as fear threatens to crush him. If anything happens to Sirius…

‘We will start there’, Lily says. ‘One step at a time, like we say to Harry when he is wanting to walk. Don’t lose hope, James. Please’.

He knows why she is asking this. Sometimes, especially when they have been confined together for so long, just the two of them, it feels like the only person they can count on is in each other.

James knows this is not true. They have friends. They have a family.

But for now they are alone in this house that feels more and more like a prison, and James can’t do anything but have hope that things will get better. He has faith for Lily; she has for him. That’s how they keep going even in the darkest moments.

‘Ok’, he promises, and she places a soft kiss on his forehead like he had done thousands of times before, being taller than her. It’s a kiss that speaks of reassurance and that reminds him he is not alone.

Even if one of his best friends, one of the people he loves so much, is betraying them.

‘We will be fine’, she whispers, and though he knows she is lying, he lets himself believe in it.

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities. 

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."