#went through all that training only to have everything he knew and strived for ripped out of his hands on the first day

[wherenymphsroam]

do NOT think about leon struggling with identity issues. because he totally doesn’t. noooo way.

[unohanadaydreams]

As the name suggests, I'm always thirsty for the Big Guy 😉 I wonder how Kenpachi would react if Ikkaku found a piece of your lingerie in the barracks, but no one knew about your relationship?

The idea of Kenpachi being viewed as sus for fucking a 4th member fuels me so ofc. This got out of hand but I fully blame the energy IkkaYumi brings to anything ever and not myself. Thank you for understanding.

Features: smut (18+) at the mid-point, IkkaYumi being real <3 for the majority of it, and sub!Kenpachi (☆ω☆), also idk maybe some minor angst but like made Seggsy.

Kenpachi Zaraki x f!reader (and IkkaYumi...mostly them tbh.)

Ikkaku slapped the door open with loudest ‘OI’ he could muster. The paper of the door ripped somewhere along the way as it slid open, the wooden frame wobbling as he stepped into the room.

Despite the noise, Yumichika’s hand stayed steadfast as he finished smudging eye shadow on his outer lid. Another ‘OI’ sounded, but no hand shook him or foot kicked at him while Yumichika held a brush to his eye.

Glacial, he finished blending the color until he was satisfied--rinsed the brush--set it to dry. Through the mirror in front of him, Yumichika looked to Ikkaku’s reflection only after admiring his own.

The lacy scrap of undies in Ikkaku’s hand lifted Yumichika’s brow.

“I thought you hated when I wore those,” he said with a sniff, turning to get a better look.

Ikkaku rubbed at his bald head, “yah think that because I do.”

Yumichika gestured for the undies and Ikkaku threw them. “And yet?”

“Yet, I found ‘em anyway!” Ikkaku fell into a wide squat, his hands fisting into the fabric of his uniform over his knees. “In the captain’s office.”

They stared at one another, both settling deeper into their feelings.

“Ikkaku, you must be joking,” Yumichika said, holding the undies against his arm. “This color makes me look positively jaundiced.”

“You think captain gives a shit about color theory?”

Yumichika threw the lacy bit of bullshit at Ikkaku’s face. Smiling when they landed on his dumb, shiny head. “He won’t even let me do his hair, Ikkaku. Your delusion is exhausting me.”

“Then--”

“Yes, Ikkaku. Then, they’re not mine. And they’re someone else’s.”

Ikkaku pulled the undies from his head, squinting at them. “Huh.”

Rising with a flourish, Yumichika let the sleeves of his robe billow behind him as he went for the cabinet to rummage for sake. Possibly a new boyfriend.

He came back after a few gulps, offering Ikkaku the bottle only after giving him a sound kick to the head that sent the man flopping to the side.

“Hey!” Ikkaku steadied himself with one hand and rubbed where he’d been kicked with the other...undies still in hand. “Ya can’t blame me. No one else around here would wear that shit.”

Yumichika gave a flat look. Took another gulp of sake. Sighed heavily as he sank to Ikkaku’s level.

“Which means they belong to someone who would,” Yumichika offered along with the sake. “Someone from a different division.”

“Must be serious,” Ikkaku said, sake dribbling down his chin. “Never found anything in his office...ever.”

Yumichika kissed at the trail of sake and took the bottle back once he’d settled into Ikkaku’s lap. “That means whoever it is will be back. And now we know what to look for.”

Ikkaku grunted, shoving his tongue in Yumichika’s mouth before the man in his lap could swallow his sake, not pulling away until he’d swiped as much alcohol with his tongue as he could.

“That shit ain’t good enough for you, anyway.”

“I know,” Yumichika said softly, tone at odds with him rising to stand, heading for the door.

“O--” A raised hand stalled Ikkaku from pointing to his tightened hamaka.

“Fix my door first, dumbass.”

@

Ikkaku lowered from his tip-toes, a man afflicted. “No way.”

“I told you,” Yumichika said in a hiss. “Not just from 4th division, but a pencil pusher.”

You looked like the kind who’d scramble to bring an 11th division soldier any impossible request they bullied you for. The quintessential mouse every self-respecting soldier was inclined to paw at.

“Don’t look so fucking smug, Yumi,” Ikkaku grumbled, peeling off the wall and pulling Yumichika back towards the training grounds by the back of the puffed-up peacock’s uniform, right at the lower back. Yumichika had just gotten his fifth pay-back punch in when they hit the gate that separated captain’s estate from training ground.

Theirs might have been the only captain so enamored with battle that he’d moved his quarters as close as the captain general would allow. If it weren’t for the bullshit ‘housing codes and regulations’, Ikkaku was sure the house would’ve been on top of the large rectangle of packed dirt that served as the largest training ground in the entire division. 

Once they’d hopped the low wall, more meant to keep Zaraki’s house away from the grounds than to keep his underlings on the grounds away from him, Yumichika fell on the nearest bench to fix his uniform.

“Well now what?” Ikkaku rubbed at his side, knowing he was going to need to stretch soon or the tight knot Yumichika had punched into his side or even a night drowned in sake wouldn’t numb it when he collapsed in his futon.

Yumichika didn’t look up from retying his stiff, decorative obi but his face softened, “Now that we’ve been successfully nosy? I was thinking that new, chic sushi bar near the 1st. The one where all the wait-staff look just as yummy.”

“No I, mean--yeah, we’re definitely going,” Ikkaku said, his previous thought tripping over the vision of pretty smiles from androgynous beauties. “But, what do we do about the captain?”

“Well, I’m not going to say anything, but I also have tact. And grace,” Yumichika shrugged, fluffing the bow of obi.

Ikkaku kicked dirt and tensed forward at the shoulders, like he planned to lunge and attack. “I ain’t no fucking snitch and you know it. Don’tcha?”

Sliding forward, Yumichika massaged at Ikkaku’s tense shoulders, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t saying you would. Just that you’re tactless. And might on accident--which makes you an idiot, not a snitch.”

“Damn right,” Ikkaku grunted, anything but Yumichika’s agreement sliding off his bald head like water. “Wouldn’t snitch for anything. But what if someone else finds out? Like a captain or something. We can’t kill one of them and--”

“Oh, stop worrying about it,” Yumichika said, interrupting and pulling at Ikkaku’s arm--he was hungry, both for refined food and beauties. “No one who wants to live will chance Kenpachi asking for a fight. Or that Captain Unohana; she seems vicious in a way more of our men should be. Such grace.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Ikkaku nodded, letting himself be dragged off for sushi, sake, and sublime wait-staff. Still, there was morale to think about. No hardened warrior of the rukongai wanted to hear their fearless leader had a weakness for...the weak.

There had to be something more to it but Ikkaku wasn’t going to dig more into his captain’s business. He was more than happy to put the shovel down and follow Yumichika, even as the truth sat uncomfortably at the base of his skull.

@

You were weak in all the ways shinigami measured such things--swordsmanship, spiritual pressure, and kido were subjects you studied more than you practiced, let alone pulled off. But you had enough power to pass school and be sorted into the 4th division ranks, where you excelled.

An aptitude for medical procedure, surgery, and technology was what garnered you not just safety, but respect among your peers.

As for the other divisions? Well, you had some friends in 12th who fully understood your position.

Kenpachi Zaraki? Certainly wasn’t someone who could relate to you.

But, that was fine.

You preferred your men muzzled, anyway.

“Too bad, Cap--tain,” you breathed, stretching his title with your tongue playfully. “I was hoping they’d find out everything.”

Pulling yourself up, one fist over the other, by the leather leash tied taunt around Kenpachi’s neck, you delighted in seeing the muscles there strain to accommodate your weight and the need for breath at the same time.

You pressed your lips against his ear after admiring the rough line of his mouth being forcibly split open by a ball gang, pretty, pink, and yours. “Can’t you go faster?”

His answering grunt was followed by his body pressing into yours quick enough turn your teasing into moans. That’s what you liked most about Kenpachi; he was always striving to be better and exceeding expectation.

it would be effortless for him to put his hands on you without permission or rip out the ball gag, but he didn’t. Even when you met in a grimy bar close to the 11th, too drunk to realize who’s thigh you were toying with, his attention to what you wanted was surprising.

You panted, toes curling as he hit that lovely spot only he ever had, “H-hands on hips.”

So eager, he kneaded from the tops of your thighs to your hips like dough, obviously glad to be rewarded. You were eager too--for the angle. Your hips tilted upward gave him more depth and your fingers tightened on his leash.

There was no need to command for more, because he was giving you his all. And he kept going until your scattered breathing paired with the tight heat he was pounding into you snapped all at once, so intense that your eyes watered.

While you basked in the trembling after shocks, catching your breath, Kenpachi went still.

Until you said, “Sit on floor.”

The bed creaked and rose as he left it, leaving you to collect yourself in peace. When you rose to sit, he was kneeling on the floor, his cock hard and bobbing above his thighs.

You walked to him slow, nails scratching through his rough, black hair as you circled behind him. “Such good work,” you praised, “Just like always.”

Trailing down to the buckle, your fingers made quick of his ball gag, parting it from his teeth gently, and tossing it on the bed.

“What do you want me to reward you with, Kenpachi?” You asked him, only once you’d come to face him, your hand urging his jaw up, his eyes on yours.

“To get off,” he said, shameless.

You hummed, “then do it.”

Frowning, Kenpachi leaned his face into your touch. “I want you to.....please.”

The word ‘please’ was said slow, his eyes leaving yours several times before he said it. You wondered how many people Kenpachi Zaraki had ever asked, for anything. Let alone, with manners.

You kissed his nose, finding the almost demure behavior cute, “Then I will. Lay down.”

He did, his arms behind his head, like he napping under a tree instead of waiting for your hands to give his weeping cock relief.

You took your time, teasing him with sensation by spitting into your hand and giving him light rubs, again and again until his hips lifted off the ground.

The lacy bit of pink undies that stretched tight over his thighs, were yours too. And you peeled them off, throwing them toward the ball gag as his breathing grew heavy in the air.

Perhaps you deserved less teasing, but you couldn’t resist dragging out the fun a touch more, one hand fondling his tightening balls while the other scratched lightly at his inner thighs.

His breathing was catching on groans and audible ‘ah’s that had you biting your lip. Thigh’s clenching, you finally began circling the tip of his cock. Soon, you were giving him his first pump, slick hand trailing his length from tip to base in smooth, steady motions.

Straddling his thighs, you took advantage of the position and put both your hands to work, gripping him harder but keeping the same pace.

“Look how hard you are,” you cooed, hands pausing as your thumb circled the slit topping the bulbous head of his cock. “Do you want to cum for me?”

His, “yes,” was immediately pushed from his heaving chest. You hummed, so tempted to climb on top of him fully. But, that would be a kind of weakness you didn’t allow yourself.

Kenpachi’s lone eye struggled to stay open as you lowered your lips to kiss the tip of him. You rose back up and licked them as he watched, his pre-cum salty as it settled on your tongue.

You couldn’t call him unraveling under your firm, fast touch seeing him at his weakest. But, you were certain it was a kind of vulnerable he seldom experienced. Even his arms had come from behind his head, his fingers flexing around air while he struggled to keep them away from you. His hips began bucking with such strength that you were forced to tighten your thighs around his to keep your place.

Desperate, is what he was. For you to give him what he worked for.

And, you did.

His cock pulsed as you wrung his orgasm out, thick ropes of cum falling over his sweaty stomach and dripping down your hands. His moan was loud, deep, and reverberated through out the room like a cry of victory.

You kept stroking him until he was completely spent, until he made a sound almost like a whine.

“I need--”

He sat up, setting you on the floor before padding to the bathroom, and coming back with a damp cloth. “Here.”

“Thank you,” you said, keeping your eyes on your hands as you willed yourself to calm down. His orgasm had made you want him again, badly. But you had things to do. He had things to do.

What you had with Kenpachi was strange and tenuous. And your smug confidence drained a bit as you cleaned yourself and him, until you were almost unsure.

What now? You’d never even seen his house before this. Always in more public places, where you parted almost immediately after playing with him.

“You want these back,” he asked, lifting the ball gag and undies in one hand while pulling back the blankets on the bed with the other. The leash was already on the bedside table, his neck angrily red still.

If you took them, you wondered if it was all over. “No, you should. They’re easy enough to clean.”

“...You sure?”

You nodded, not so attached to a couple cheap props that you’d be wounded if something happened to them. “They’re all yours.”

Shrugging after a moment of silence, he gestured with his head to the bed, “unless you wanna take a shower first.”

“I’m fine for now,” you responded, climbing under the blanket, more confused than obedient. “Are you tired?”

“Enough to sleep.”

The bed dipped from his bulk, forcing you closer. He tossed an arm around you, so you could get comfortable against his side. You lay your head on his chest, eyes still open, listening to him breathe.

At first, you’d thought maybe it was all a joke. That Kenpachi Zaraki was trying to trap you into....something, like those men who feigned nice before using all their muscle to force you to bend as they wanted. To teach you a lesson for trying to dominate him.

You didn’t delude yourself into thinking you had real, tangible power of him or any man you’d toyed with, after all. Just something momentary, like a brief understanding.

But you felt less cautious as your eyes drooped shut and your thoughts circled around his intentions. He always approached you and asked, vague and gruff, ‘here good?’ And you’d find a closet or office or twisty alley that would do.

This time, you asked him. And he took you to his bedroom, compliant as ever, waiting for you to sprinkle nice words in his ear, for you to give him pleasure for being his best.

Drifting off to the rise and fall of his chest, you wondered if things like that meant so much to him.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

zatanna said the word anchor point, and that's where she lost dick. anchor points and multiversal constants and universal stability. galaxies shattering into pieces behind his eyelids before swirling together tighter and more whole, before dick would inevitably wake, the lights from that goddamn recurring dream still flashing in his mind.

constantine was looking at him with sympathy, pity. dick wanted to wipe that look off his face with bleach. with acid. he normally wouldn't consider fighting john constantine, since he's always been able to sense the sheer power bubbling under the man's drunken and sloppy exterior. though, apparently, that ability to sense was what could possibly give him the edge in the fight he was imagining, but would never happen.

there were only a few people in the room, but someone would rip him off the man. maybe clark, whose features were painted with worry and concern. that, and the lights from the galaxies outside the watchtower windows, the eternity of the galaxy covering the entire room in a gentle wash that dick had been able to ignore for all of his life, excluding the past couple of hours. maybe diana, who was starting to look at dick with a bit of fear. not of him, but for him, and for everybody else. dick couldn't blame her. she had more than enough experience with powerful men who made themselves god. the only difference was that dick would rather let himself burn up from the flame that was inside of him before becoming whatever they said he was.

it's not about becoming, raven whispered in his mind. her presence was gentle, familiar. it took a certain length of self control for dick not to latch onto her, about the length of rope needed to make a noose. you already are. there are no new powers or abilities or anything that will happen to you. you always were a nexus being, and you always will be. it's just a part of you.

"just a part of him." just a part of him? like how wally's slowly failing heart had just been a part of him? or how jason's pit-induced fits of rage were just a part of him? or how cass' assassin training she fell back on no matter how hard she tried to override it was just a part of her?

bruce hadn't said anything. actually, zatanna had stopped talking, not that dick had been fully listening in the first place, and everyone was lost in their own quiet thoughts. but bruce's silence had been the most stomach-churning, the most horrific.

dick knew bruce didn't like metas. knew it because of the sighs he used to make due to the league's foolishness back when dick was robin, running a hand through dick's ruffled hair and telling him he was so glad you're not like them, dick, they're exhausting. he knew it because of bruce's fury every time someone powerful fought in gotham and destroyed the city, rubble on the ground as they went off, completely unconcerned of the damage they left behind. he knew it because of the extensive files in the batcomputer detailing each league-affiliated and known meta's weakness, or how their strength could be flipped like a playing card, until dick was almost convinced being a meta made one weaker. (according to bruce, it did.)

bruce didn't like metas. and dick wasn't a meta, but no one knew what he was anyway. no one but the magic users, whose vague explanations told them they weren't really sure what he was either.

"you're connected to the universe, dick," zatanna sighed. "the multiverse comes together in you. and as much as i don't like it, we need you."

all eyes were on him. dick was looking at his feet, but he could still feel them. that was one of his new "powers," right? knowledge of the multiverse? a gross misuse and bitter accusation, dick knew. but he couldn't get the fear out of his mind, and fear left unchecked grew fuzzy with mold until it disintegrated into anger.

"you need me?" dick said hoarsely. "the multiverse, what, comes together in me? you do realize what utter bullshit that sounds like?"

"i know it don't seem all that good, but trust me," constantine said. "it's a thing. it's real. you are one."

"you said these people are supposed to be beings of power," dick argued back. "so why aren't you a nexus being? or raven? or fucking ra's al ghul. i'm sure as hell not a being of power. i'm human."

"i suppose that's exactly what makes you one," diana murmured. "i have met many powerful men in my life. i've found the ones that i respected the most were the ones that were most in touch with their humanity."

this was crazy. this was crazy. dick felt like the particles that came together to make him were blowing away in confusion until he was one big cloud of unrecognizable light, before he was scattered in every direction. how the hell was he supposed to be one of the things that kept the universe together when he couldn't even keep his own damn self together?

avoiding bruce wasn't working. dick just felt like he was about to fray at the edges. so, gathering up his courage, dick turned to face the man and quietly, in a voice more delicate than china, said, "b?"

batman didn't look at him. batman didn't even look up. but batman did speak.

"alternate universe superman. he called you the multiversal constant. the one thing he could depend on."

out of the corner of his eye, dick could see clark nodding a little.

bruce continued. "you named yourself after a mythological figure who was known as the catalyst of change. or the great rebuilder. and kryptonians we've met have said how well you embody the role."

"it's...it's just a name, bruce."

"you, of all people, know it's not," clark said.

"so what am i supposed to do, huh?" dick whirled around. "fight this battle zee's recruiting me for that's entirely above my skill level. become some sort of, what did you say, universal anchor? i don't know the first thing about this shit, and i don't know what it'll do to me!"

"you're scared," bruce said, always willing to cut right to the chase with everyone but himself.

dick didn't answer.

"raven, establish a mental link between me and nightwing."

raven nodded, then with a flutter of her hands, dick felt a presence inside his head. it scared him to realize how easily he accepted it, how easily he had always accepted it. he never understood how unusual that was until now.

of course i'm scared, dick whispered into the mind link. i've gone my entire life knowing exactly who i was, what i could do, what i strive to be. and in the span of one day, that's all gone.

then what do you plan to do about it? bruce asked.

he said it so simply, so easily. like discovering something this monumental about himself was just another tricky case or difficult puzzle to solve. dick would have an easier time plucking each and every star in the galaxy and making a mosiac out of them.

raven's hood was lowered, but dick could still feel her eyes on him. constantine's features were still dripping in pity, zee looked imploring. diana was looking at him with hesitating acceptance, bruce was unreadable as always.

but clark. clark was looking at him with steady eyes and and a kind smile. he looked knowing, quietly vindicated. it was as if he'd known there was something...off about dick. something two hopscotches and a backbend away from "special," but close enough. something that had led to clark giving dick a piece of his people's legacy, and trusting him to fulfill it to the best of his ability.

clark wasn't scared of him at all. but clark couldn't make up for bruce.

"will you help?" zatanna asked.

everything inside dick was itching to say yes. jumping at the chance to help his friends, aching to be useful. it was a response he'd carefully cultivated years ago, and pushing it down was an almost physical ache.

but the stardust behind his eyes wasn't so easily forgotten. the hook behind his navel that seemed to drag him into the fabric of a universe that dick couldn't comprehend still dug into him. the world was spinning and the stars were turning and the earth was tumbling over itself, all of them in an effort to stop their twisting and turning and to right themselves once and for all. but dick wasn't moving. dick was completely, utterly still.

"i don't know," he said.

Dick Grayson Anniversary Week ‘21, Day 6: Universal Constant

"i don't know," the author says, because she truly has no idea what the fuck she just wrote. i started imagining nexus dick grayson and this just spilled out onto the page. it makes absolutely no sense, but there are some nice sentences in there that i don't want to get rid of, so hopefully yall can somewhat make sense of this ramen soup of a fic.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @bikoncon @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @dickgraysonweek

[kasienda]

A Miraculous Reveal: A Gift of Responsibility

It had seemed like an ordinary day. Except that Marinette had been on time for school. That, like, almost never happened. But here she was in her seat ten minutes before class was to begin, snacking on a croissant her father had handed her on the way out the door and chatting idly with Alya about nothing remotely important. 

Her classmates filed in slowly in clumps until finally everyone except Adrien was in their seats. She watched his empty seat with a hint of worry. She always hated when he wasn’t there - knowing he was either trapped in a photoshoot he cared nothing about, or was home in bed with illness. 

But before her anxiety could spiral too deep, he slipped casually through the doorway. But he paused, facing the whole class. He smiled softly as his gaze swept the room, but there was something sad and wistful about his expression. 

“Are you okay?” she asked him. 

His spring-green eyes whipped back to her, and his smile grew. “Yes, of course. I just… I have some changes coming up, and I just wanted to savor this normal morning.” 

“What changes?” Nino asked. 

“Oh… ummm…” Adrien’s hand flew to the back of his neck. “I’m going to go back to home schooling in a week.” 

Keep reading on Ao3

Marinette’s eyes shot open, and her gut twisted painfully.

“What?!” Alya exploded. 

“That’s so uncool, dude!” Nino was shouting. “What toe did you step out of line this time?” 

Marinette couldn’t speak through the lump in her throat or the churning in her stomach. 

Adrien shook his head. “I agreed to it, actually,” he admitted.

“What?! Why?!” Nino demanded, his face looked exactly how Marinette felt. What would life be like without Adrien’s kind and patient smile offering her warmth and comfort? What would his life be like when he was being shuffled between photoshoots and tutors without anyone who wasn’t being paid a salary to remain in his presence? 

“He needs my help,” Adrien said. “Nathalie is sick, and he’s under a lot of pressure and apparently he wants to start training me in the… family business. He said I can still have you all over once a week.”

She and Nino exchanged a glance. Of course, Gabriel would buy Adrien’s compliance by offering the one thing Adrien always strived for - his father’s high opinion and attention. 

“You’re even allowed to all visit at the same time, so we could have, like parties, and movie nights!” Adrien exclaimed, his face lighting in genuine delight, and Marinette couldn’t help reciprocate the expression. “That was our compromise,” he added softly before his eyes fell into his lap and he trailed off into silence. “I know it won’t be the same,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, dude,” Nino reassured with a huge smile. Marinette was completely confident Nino was burying his own feelings to put on a brave face for Adrien. “We understand. This is a chance to spend time with your old man.” 

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll be nice,” Adrien agreed, but his expression didn’t match his tone, and Marinette grew more worried. 

Her hand reached for his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked. 

His smile stretched fondly across his face as his green eyes turned to her. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she glanced down into her hands. 

“Yes, Marinette. I’m okay with it. I think it’ll work out well for a lot of people.” 

She made herself smile back at him. If he was excited, she wouldn’t poison it with her worries. At least she was still going to get to see him every now and again. 

“Actually, Marinette?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can I talk to you after class? Alone?” 

The blush in her cheeks burned hotter. “Uh… y-yes, absolutely.” 

She didn’t need to look at Alya, to feel the heat of her friend’s teasing gaze. Marinette kicked her from under the table. 

But then class was starting, Adrien had turned back around to face the front, and Marinette had to pretend that she wasn’t going out of her mind about whatever it was that Adrien wanted to talk to her about. 

The morning went by agonizingly slow. Like the clocks had clearly been spelled to go backwards when they weren’t being directly observed or something. 

When their morning classes finally concluded, Alya departed rapidly, hooking Nino’s arm through her elbow and dragging him away on her way out. Adrien watched them leave arm in arm with a sad smile before he turned back to her. 

“Shall we?” he asked. 

And she nodded, not trusting her tongue to form a coherent response, before following him out. 

It didn’t take long for them to find some privacy in a private alcove. She knew it was a good spot to not be seen. She had transformed here more than once. 

“So, I have a confession to make,” he said into the silence, his eyes gazing directly into her eyes. 

She nodded rapidly urging him to continue, trying to ignore her heart, which was currently threatening to beat out of her chest. 

“I lied earlier. I don’t have another week. Today is my last day.” 

Whatever she had been expecting or hoping he would say, that was not it. “I… What? Why?” 

“I just… I didn’t want everyone to make a big deal out of it today. I just… wanted one last normal day,” his gaze had shifted past her, and his sadness struck her in the chest. 

“I understand,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

He smiled again. “Thank you, Marinette. You’ve always been so good with secrets.” 

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “Actually, no.” And he reached into his bag and pulled out a small wrapped package. “I have something for you.” He handed it to her.

“For me? What about the others?” 

“This could only be for you, Marinette.” His tone was so certain and yet so gentle. How was she ever going to get over this boy? 

She started to open it, but his hands covered her. 

“Open it when you get home,” he said. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t want to see what I think of it?” 

He shook his head. “I’m quite confident you’d give me an earful, but…”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How much did you spend on me?” 

He held his hands up in surrender. “None, actually… Not that you’re not completely worth it! This just isn’t that kind of gift!” he told her. “Just… promise me that you’ll open it as soon as possible.” 

“You sure you don’t want me to open it now?” 

“I’m certain! It’s… private… and embarrassing! I don’t want anyone else to see it. It’s only for you, okay?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed together. It was like he was trying to tell her something, but wasn’t allowed to say it out loud. “Okay,” she agreed. 

He smiled. “Thank you, Marinette.” And he pulled her into a hug. She let herself linger for a second, but then tried to pull away. He just squeezed her harder, and she let herself melt against him, her arms wrapping around his back. 

A second later, she realized his whole form was shaking. 

He was crying. 

She had no idea what to do. 

“Adrien? Is… everything okay?” 

He pulled away, and wiped his eyes. He was shaking his head. “No,” he said, but then he smiled through his tears at her. “But it will be. I promise you that.” 

And then he was leaving, and she didn’t know what to say to bring him back. She just clutched the small package to her chest, wondering what might be inside. 

… 

The second Marinette was through the bakery doors of her family home, she bolted upstairs without so much as a “Hey, how was your day?” to either of her parents.

She pulled the wrapped parcel from her bag as she was climbing the slanted ladder to her room, and the second the trap door was closed, she dropped her bag unceremoniously to the floor, and Tikki buzzed excitedly in the air beside the present. 

“What’d he get you?” Tikki asked. 

“I don’t know,” Marinette said, even as she was tearing through the paper wrapper. 

She finally revealed a little black box and a letter that had been folded up eight times to fit under the box.

She opened the box and her giddy excitement vanished like a puff of smoke. In its place, she felt raw dread twisting in her gut. 

Before she could even ask Tikki for confirmation, A sparkling green light confirmed her fears. This was Chat Noir’s ring. 

Plagg manifested right in front of her. He whirled around, taking in her room. 

“Damnit kid! I told you to not be rash,” he grumbled. “Hiya pigtails! How’re things?” he asked casually as if it was completely normal to see her every afternoon. 

“Plagg?!” Marinette screeched. “What are you doing here? What happened to Chat?”

“Well, obviously he must have given me to you,” Plagg said. 

And Marinette felt dizzy. If that was true, Adrien was Chat Noir. But she couldn’t scream about that now. Something was wrong. 

“But why?” she demanded. Something was wrong.

“Did you read his letter?” Plagg asked. 

She tore open the letter, ripping it once in her haste, but it was fine. She could still read it.

Her eyes scanned through his words rapidly. 

Please forgive me, princess, for putting this on your shoulders. 

My partner and I have been chasing the same guy pretty much since the day you and I met. And yesterday, I found out who he is. 

He’s my father. 

That last line was blurred with obvious tear stains. 

I am entrusting you with this keepsake that was gifted to me because it is no longer safe with me. I couldn’t even risk using it one more time to contact my partner as I’m more closely protected than before. It’s far safer with you. 

And I’m asking that you do more than keep it safe. I’m hoping you will use it and take on the role that I once did in protecting my partner. 

And I know that is a lot to ask. But I’ve watched you handle all the tools in the box simultaneously, and you’re an absolute natural, princess. I have no doubt that you could fill my role seamlessly. 

My father’s assistant has fallen ill. He used to rely on her for everything, but now that she’s sick he has entrusted her role to me. 

But I can’t. I can’t betray my partner. I love her. 

Please entrust everything I’ve said to my partner whether or not you decide to fill my shoes. I hope together, the two of you can come up with a plan to deal with my father. 

And make it fast. 

I don’t know how long I can pull off pretending. 

~Your Black Knight

She was barely aware of the tears pouring down her face. She was too angry. 

“Plagg! Is he okay? Tell me he’s okay!” He hasn’t seemed okay during lunch. He had seemed sad all day, but at lunch, when they had been alone he had broken down for a moment. 

“I mean… he’s physically fine. The bastard didn’t hit him or anything. And on some level the man is trusting his son for the first time since his wife disappeared.” 

His wife! Adrien’s mother! That was why he was doing this, wasn’t it? 

Marinette could almost understand. Almost. She thought she might be capable of anything to protect her loved ones. 

But she liked to think that she would have stopped once she realized how much she was hurting others. She wasn’t sure though.

“But my kid’s heart is breaking that he has to betray him in the end,” Plagg continued. 

Then she shook her head at herself. Her partner was so good and so pure, that he was willing to stand against his own father. Willing to throw a wrench into a plan to bring back his own mother. Because it was the right thing to do. 

Marinette would follow his example. Her hand tightened around Chat Noir’s - around Adrien’s - ring. 

Gabriel didn’t deserve her understanding anyway. 

Because Gabriel hadn’t just hurt Chat Noir with his Akumas. Adrien himself had been a victim of them on several occasions occasion, he had been the target more than once. 

What kind of father did that to his own son? 

She slipped on the ring. 

“Marinette!” Tikki shrieked. “You cannot unify myself and Plagg,” she warned. “Not without risking reality itself.” 

Marinette nodded. “I understand, Tikki. Don’t worry. I have a plan.” 

As Chat Noir has pointed out, Marinette could use every miraculous in the box. And she wasn’t going to wait.

Because she had a partner to save, a friend to hold in a never ending hug until he was well and truly cried out, and a love to fight for. 

Hawkmoth wouldn’t know what hit him.

[bcdwhcre]

Connie smut??

“Unexpected,” Connie x Reader

Pls I’m so scared of not writing Connie right.

Summary: Connie ends up ghosting you as the Scout regiment gets more busy so you unexpectedly join the Scouts, making him regret his actions.

Warnings: a bit sad that turns into smut pls

Connie x Fem!Reader

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It was unexpected when Connie had stopped sending you letters or coming by your place during the weekends when he wasn’t working.

But as the scouts had gotten busier, you heard less from him and soon enough he disappeared as a whole. There were times when you would go over to the base to see if he was okay just to be told by his friends that he was ‘busy’ and couldn’t come to the door to talk to you.

After that you had a brief moment of feeling broken and sad. The chemistry you two shared was something you cherished deeply and held it close to your heart. You two were always close before he went off to the training corps and after he was done with that, he had admitted his feelings for you and wanted to move forward and you accepted.

He always knew how to make you laugh and make you happy. He knew you better than anyone and he also cared about you more than anything. He didn’t mean to ghost you but he just felt like it was better for you so you didn’t get hurt.

He didn’t want you worrying or wonder if he’ll make it back alive. He felt like you deserved better than him and he wanted to let you live happily even if that meant him ghosting you.

You thought he was a complete idiot. You knew about him always making dumb decisions without thinking them through and always doing something reckless so him ghosting you didn’t break you down heavily but it did hurt.

After some time, you had started to miss him to the point where his habits had passed on to you, making you be reckless and make that last minute decision to join the scouts.

Of course it wasn’t easy, it took time but you managed and you were a lot stronger than what people see you as.

Once you had managed to make it into the scouts, it wasn’t long until you were noticed by the top tier scouts, such as Levi and Hange.

When Connie’s eyes seen you the first day you came, being shown around and talked to by Hange, his heart had gone up to his throat. The way you still looked so beautiful, it had caught him completely by surprise. He was speechless.

Throughout the whole day he watched you train, watched you show your training skills to the scouts and impressed nearly everyone. He was so stunned, he couldn’t stop watching you and he started to regret leaving you behind all alone.

He loved you, of course he loved you way too much. You were a beautiful prize in his eyes, he was always grateful and appreciative to have someone like you.

Fuck, he missed you so much and just looking at you right now- he had to hold himself back from running up to you and hugging you, kissing you and so much more.

It didn’t take him long to finally get you alone, grabbing your arm and shoving you inside his bedroom on the base and closed the door behind him, he wasn’t utterly mad but he was shocked and upset you risked joining the scouts.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice quiet as his large eyes searched yours.

“Uhh, you mean what I’m doing at my own job?” You said in a confused tone and he shook his head.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“Riiight, let me ask a better question. Why did you ghost me?” You abruptly said and it made a sad expesssion come across his face.

“It wasnt on purpose, I just- I felt like you were better off.” Connie simply shrugged and you stared at him like he was an idiot.

“Don’t tell me shit about what you thought was better for me. You were better for me, Connie.” You stared at him, growing irritated but you couldn’t stay mad at him.

You leaned over and gently punched his arm playfully, trying to hit some sense into him. You wanted to punch him in the face, you wanted to hurt him and make him feel the pain you felt when he left you with no answers but seeing his face had made your knees grow weak and you had no control of your sudden actions.

You were quick to cup his cheeks and smash your lips onto his, catching him off guard as his back hit the wall behind him but he didn’t hesitate to move his lips with yours, his hands reaching down to wrap around your waist.

You both had missed each other so much it was lingering off the both of you and into the air as the tension grew thick. Your heart had fluttered from the soft touch of his lips on yours, making you realize just how much you still love him.

Connie felt the exact same, seeing your face had brought so many memories back for him. From when you were kids to now, everything had flashed before his eyes and his love for you had blossomed once again, making him realize just how much of an idiot he was for disappearing on you.

You were the best thing to happen to him, you pushed him forward and encouraged him, wanting him to strive to be the best version of himself. You were one of a kind and he hated how he left you so suddenly and never gave it a second thought. You were worth more than that.

His heart had pounded inside of his chest, it felt like it was going to explode with happiness but also sadness from the lingering guilt he felt for hurting you. He didn’t deserve to have you here kissing him but he didn’t want to push away, he didn’t want you to slip away again.

He took the opportunity to lead you towards his bed, sitting down on the edge and instantly pulling you down on his lap with his hands, not wasting anymore time- afraid it’ll be ripped away. You were breathless against his lips, the soft touches and the way his tongue had slipped into your mouth- you had instantly melted against him.

He was your safe haven, he was your home, he was everything you needed and more.

Your small hands had moved down, wrapping your arms around his neck as your chests press against one another and soft hums left your lips before you ended up pulling back to catch some of your breath, your eyes connecting with his and you could see the hint of sparkle in them, making your heart flutter.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea.” Connie spoke up first, one of his hands cupping your cheek and the other rested on your hip as he stroked his thumb over your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, the guilt weighing on him heavily and he hoped you would forgive him, maybe go back to the way things were before.

You shook your head, shushing him as your fingertips traced along his skin on the back of his neck. The sudden reminder of him ghosting you entered your mind but the way he apologized and looked genuine and looked upset with what he had done- it somewhat made your heart flutter.

Your lips landed on his again, trailing your hands down his chest and reached down to grab the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head and connected eyes with him. He was in awe, watching your movements and letting you take his shirt off before finally taking some control and tugging the uniform off your body.

He didn’t even let you do anything else but wrap your arms back around him as he left you half naked on his lap. His tongue running over his dry lips, his eyes scanning over your body and leaned over to pepper kisses down to your neck, leaving wet sloppy kisses down to your chest.

Reaching around, he was quick to unclip your bra and let it slide off your arms and onto the floor. His rough hands had replaced your bra and cupped your breasts gently, giving them a firm squeeze while sucking bruises on your soft skin, making soft breaths leave your parted lips.

“Connie,” The way his name slipped effortlessly from your lips had made a sudden switch in him flip.

The sudden feeling of what was happening and how your voice had brought him back to reality, making him realize just how badly he had fucked up and how much he missed you. It was all clouding inside of his head, almost making him lightheaded.

His soft eyes looked up at your face, his heart pounding inside of his chest and his hands slowly slipped down to grab a firm grip of your hips, almost tugging you closer to him even though you were already pretty close. He planted one kiss on your jawline, his fingertips brushing along your skin and grabbing the hem of your underwear.

The sudden actions of him moving to where you were laying down on his bed, his body hovering over yours and his fingers tugging the waistband before sliding your underwear down your legs painfully slow. He never usually took his time when in bed with you, not that it was always rushed- he just never fully got a chance to be able to have his way with you for hours because of the Scouts.

But this time was different, he couldn’t care less about his duties or what he was supposed to be doing right now, all he wanted was you and to let you know that his full attention was on you, no matter if this lasted minutes or hours.

His rough hands had grabbed a hold of your legs, spreading them apart in front of him and he couldn’t help but hum to himself, his eyes devouring every inch of your body and it had made your skin grow quite hot in seconds, the nerves kicking in and making you feel shy all over again.

But Connie didn’t care to notice, he was in awe of you and he finally leaned down, planting sloppy wet kisses up your leg and to your inner thigh. He had playfully sunk his teeth in your skin, leaving a nasty bruise and then trailing up to leave a few more. He wanted to make sure you were reminded of who you belong to.

You couldn’t even think straight, your mind clouded and the only thoughts you had were set on him. Your small hands had reached down and landed on the back of his head, there wasn’t much to grab but you insisted on trying to pull his head up to where you needed him the most, feeling him laugh against your thigh.

“Stop being so needy or else I’ll tease you all night.” He suddenly said, his eyes meeting yours and suddenly a lump had formed inside of your throat.

“Got it?” He asked, his fingertips digging into your thighs and you slowly nodded your head but the way he squeezed your thighs tighter, it made a soft noise slip from your lips.

“Got it, sorry.” You managed to mumble out and that satisfied him enough to continue his previous actions, making you almost whine.

“Good girl.”

The change in his behavior and the actions he’s never really done in bed before was all a new experience to you but you couldn’t complain, it was actually making you more wet as time went on and he knew that, that’s why he was going so damn slow but he also wanted to admire you like the gem you are.

Once he was high enough, still kissing the very top of your inner thigh, you could feel his breath hitting your core and it made you squirm beneath him, wanting to shut your legs but the firm grip he had on them, it was nearly impossible to try to pry them shut.

The way your skin felt like it was boiling hot, everything he was doing to you was making you all hot and bothered. He could tell just how bad you were aching just by the look of you but he played it off as if he wasn’t paying much attention to your whines and squirming body, instead he wanted to make this worth every second.

“Connie..” You said his name again, his big eyes meeting yours while he gave a firm squeeze of your upper thighs, smirking at you.

“Hm?” He was teasing you beyond what he has done before, making you all that impatient and needy, you were a complete mess and he knew that.

“C’mon, quit teasing.” You barely managed to stutter out considering how slow his hands were rubbing your thighs just below where you wanted his fingers to touch you most. He was driving you crazy.

“Teasing?” He tried to play it off, his smirk only growing wider and suddenly his fingers were hovering over your clit, gently brushing his fingers over it before firmly pressing them down and rubbed in a painfully slow motion.

You couldn’t even open your mouth to say anything else, you threw your head back against the mattress and kept your tight grip on his head as his fingers teased you, his eyes burning into your face as he watched. The way your face mixed with pleasure and your mouth parted open, a soft moan slipping out- it all made him hungry but he held himself back, this was about you.

“I’m going to make you beg for it all night.” His words were low but enough to make you buck your hips up into his hand and that had made him push them back down with his free hand.

He was going to make sure this lasted and have you a complete mess afterwards, no matter how many rounds it’ll take.

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was going to finish this but it’s pretty long enough, if anyone wants the rest then lmkkkk and I’ll make a part 2 <3

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

Read bio before requesting!!

* also sorry for last nights status of me being sad and unmotivated. It’s been a long few days and I just got too much in my head about whether or not my writings are good enough to be posted. Thank you to the ppl who messaged me or sent me kind stuff in my inbox, it’s highly appreciated and I’m forever grateful for every single one of you <33 all love

[hobbitsnapes]

The heart of the Scout Regiment

A mini Levi Ackerman story

Summary: Since the beginning of the survey corps, not one member has changed the group like she did, if only they knew, what one persons heart, could change them all.

A/N:had this idea for a few days and went with it, I’m hoping to keep it pretty small but who knows with my imagination how long this’ll become.

In the over 70 years the scout regiment has been founded, there’s been countless brave soldiers who have joined the fight for mankind. Many brave men and women have laid down their lives, all with determined hearts to create a safe, wonderful world again. But not one, had the heart she held.

At only 28 years old, she joined the survey corps and within a year being on the team, she was ranked one of the best on the team in years.

A drive that many strived to come near, quick with her skills as she flew through the shy like a fierce angel of war, with the skills that nearly matched that of their captain.

But the one thing, the very thing that made all love be in complete awe of her, was how loyal she was to each and everyone on her team.

She was often called either the guardian angel of the group, or the heart of the survey corps. Or as some have overtime dubbed her, mum.

The sheer love she had for each member astonished them all, something that even a few took time to grow used to.

The scouts dubbed her initially as their guardian angel, for the amount of times she’s saved them all.

Majority of the time, she spent the missions keeping an eye on her team mates, especially the newer members. She was even given the position of watch over for them, with only a few killed under her belt, she was placed usually in behind them all. Eyes trained on everyone as she made sure they were safe. The amount of times she’s saved them from being eaten alive, they couldn’t count. Even at times risking her life for one of her friends, just to make sure they made it.

She was loved dearly by everyone, and loved each of them individually.

She ended up being dubbed mum by the younger cadets for the tender love she would give, always checking in on each of them in the beginning if she felt they needed it.

She always had words of Affirmation, love, and deep care to each of them. Always telling them how proud she was of them, how strong they all were. Even her criticism were of the same amount of love, never did they walk away from them feeling defeated, for her words were laced with love and care, only being spoken so they can be the best they can. A best they all in a way strive for just to see her smile and feel the love she willingly gave them, no matter what.

The mess hall was bustling with life, as everyone gathered to have dinner. With her hair tied back as she grabbed for an extra slice of bread, she walked over to her usual table.

Handing the extra slice to Sasha, the young girl looking up at her with wide eyes and large smile. “Here take it sweety, I grabbed it just for you.” She said, her signature warm smile painted on her lips. The girl pulled her into a tight embrace, one she gladly reciprocated.

One of the things she was Notorious for, was how much she loved hugging. At least everyone on the team has been wrapped in her arms, something that even their commander and captain secretly loved. But Levi loved her tight hugs for a reason that nobody knew of, not even his closest friends knew the love he Harberd for the woman.

At first, he was often annoyed at her affections, finding them irritating and pointless. The amount of times he would roll his tired eyes as he watched her launch herself into someone’s arms, he lost count.

But over the next few months, the annoyance he once had, disappeared and were instead filled with happiness, something he can’t remember feeling. His heart would flutter in his chest whenever she would beam up at him. And yes, up.

Having gotten used to looking up at his team members, it shocked him when he first met her. Standing at exactly 4 foot 9, she was the shortest member they had. Something that everyone adored, and added to her loving character.

She often would change what table she sat at, finding herself interchangeably taking a seat where she felt called to. Each person who she sat with, had smiles painted on their faces as she asked them how each of their days went, watching proudly as they often rambled to her and everyone about the most mundane thing they did. But not once, did she ever interrupt, or gave the impression she wasn’t interested. Eyes locked on their faces with a smile, she listened intently. She would look at them like they were telling a fantastic fairytale, when all they did was mop the floor.

Everyone would take their turns, never once interrupting what the other was saying unless asked a question.

Whenever someone had, she would break her eyes from the person to those who interrupted. She never gave a mean, or intimidating look. All she had to do, was look into their eyes and say “please wait your turn.” She wouldn’t even have an edge of anger in her tone, her tone matched her loving attitude she always had. But it instantly made them quiet down, unless it was a faint apology. One she always replied with “it’s alright dear.”

But, just because she always seemed full of love and joy, doesn’t mean she’s always kept up that attitude.

The few times anyone has truly seen her upset, it haunted all those who heard and especially directed to.

The first time, was the first time she lost one of her teammates. The heart shattering wale she let out as she held their lifeless body in her arms, haunted them all for weeks.

The second, was the time one of them nearly lost their lives, to protect her. Never had they seen her talk with such authority, such change to her usually calm tone. She reminded them of the position she was given, and that her job, was to protect them. But they reminded her that she was also important, that they couldn’t live with themselves, if she lost her life and they didn’t do anything about it. It was the first time she was called mum, a day that she will cherish forever.

The third and last time, was something they will never forget.

It was one and only times they truly saw her enraged.

It was bad, truly a nightmare as they all fought just to make it out alive.

She spotted one of the younger members trapped under a fallen tree, seeing they were still alive. Her heart rapidly beating out of her chest, as it nearly stopped when she spotted the 12 meter titan approaching them. She flew through the air as fast as she could, pure adrenaline coursing through each vein as was neck and neck with the beast.

Her arm stretched out as far as she could, nearly feeling the tips of her fingers hit their weak hand, feeling the beasts breath behind her. But all that was stopped, as she felt arms wrap her, flying her away from the young man. Her heart shattering in her chest as she felt Levi pulling her away.

Loud ear splitting screams of anger ripped from her throat as she spewed off every profanity she could at the captain. Her nails cutting deep scratches in his hands as she watched them be eaten, her heart breaking as tears streamed from her eyes.

Never, had anyone seen just truly how enraged she could get until they got back. Her voice booming through the large base as tears streamed from her eyes, her body shaking as words of pure heartbreak and anger shattered everyone’s hearts. Even the cold, emotionless caption had to hold in tears as he let her take out every bit of anger and heartbreak she felt. Only being stopped when she lunged at the man, being pulled away as she tackled him to the ground.

It broke their hearts watching her, her words nothing compared to the anguish and sadness in her voice. It was something that nobody wished another member to experience.

“Thank you so much mum.” She mumbled into her shoulder, making her smile as she pulled back, planting a small kiss to her forhead. “No problem sweety.” She said, a large smile on her face.

Erens eyes focused on his plate, mind swirling with anxiousness as he thinks of the next day.

He was informed of another mission the next day, something that both excited hun, but terrified the young boy.

Still having trouble controlling himself even today, he still had doubt in his mind. Fear of loosing control again, fear of hurting anyone on his team.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt arms wrapping around him from behind, feeling her head leaning on his shoulder.

“Everything alright bubs? You’ve hardly eaten?” She asks, making a smile grow on his face.

Never did anyone think or imagine just how close they became. Nobody ever thought, that they would have one of the tightest bonds on the team. The care she holds for him, it even made some jealous for how much she values the young boy, and vise versa. The usually angry, cold man, calmed almost instantly when she was with him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was his mother.

“Just worried about tomorrow is all.” He mumbles, feeling her arms wrap ever so slightly tighter around him. “Everything’s gonna work out, I know it’s scary, everytime we go out there it is. But we know exactly what to do, where we’re going, and we’ve got you on our side. You’re gonna do amazing, I know it.” She says, ending it with a kiss to his temple, one that makes his shoulders drop, and a smile to grow on his face.

And as she Predicted, it went smoothly, for the most part.

Since having her join the team, the death tole has greatly diminished. While there were a few, they typically would walk away with only injuries rather than the high body count they once had.

This mission, there were no casualties amongst the group. But there were a few who came back with injuries, knew that as soon as they finished, she ran to each one of them.

Her hands slowly wrap bandage around jeans arm, neatly and gently trying to keep it close to his body.

Letting out a small hiss from the deep cut on his arm, she gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry dear.” She said, voice laced with care as she tried to tie it without hurting him further. “It’s alright mum, thank you for this though.” He said, voice sounding, defeated. She was always able to read them all, even their always emotionless captain.

“What’s on your mind bubs, you can tell me.” She says, eyes looking into his. He lets out a sigh as he averts his from her stare. He knew she’d be able to tell.

“I-I almost got myself and my team killed. Again. Everyone counts on me to be great, but I can’t help but think I’m letting everyone down, I feel more like a hazard to the group.” His eye wells up with an unshed tear. He feels her thumb wipe his eye, looking at her as she cups his cheek softly. “You’re anything but that Jean. I promise, you’re a true born leader. I’m so proud of the progress you’ve made since I met you, and I’m always so happy to see how much you care about all of us. You’re anything but what you think dear, I promise.” Tears well up again in his eyes at her words, feeling them wrap around him like a blanket.

He pulls her into a tight embrace, feeling her hands running up and down his back.

Bertolt let’s put a grunt as he feels his cheek, feeling the deep cut that covered the skin. He knew it would heal by morning, but that doesn’t make the pain any less.

He watched as she walks over to him, knowing exactly why she came over.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He says. “I know you’ll be fine, but I still wanna at least disinfect it and patch it up.” She says, a smile on her face as she sits in front of him.

He knows he can’t fight her, and even then, he wouldn’t want her to.

If there’s one person besides his friends he truly cares about, it’s her. The amount of love she’s given him since he met her was something he detested at first, but slowly he grew to not only get used of it, but loving it. The care she has in her touch, her voice, and her eyes, is something that he’s never seen or felt at such a level.

They both sat silently as she cleans his wound, a small smile on his face as she applies the lightest touch. The amount of times he’s told her that she doesn’t have to be so soft, she’s always retort back with “i know it won’t hurt, but I’m still gonna be as gentle as I can just in case.”

As she finished up patching his cheek, she gives him a warm smile, one he matches. “Thanks mum, you really didn’t have to do that.” She smiles at the young mans words. “I know, but I still like to make sure you heal properly.” The young man chuckles at this, feeling her arms wrap around his lanky frame.

The room was almost completely silent as they walk in, her arms helping to bring him to his neatly made bed.

If there was one person who could read him like a book, it’d be her.

Levi tried to hide the long gash on his peck from her, trying to put a mask on as to not let her see the deep pain he felt as they rode home. The sharp winter air did nothing but made the cut sting worse, making his face even paler from the pain he felt.

He had done a pretty good job, that was until he had jumped off of his horse when they got back, nearly falling flat on his face of it wasn’t for her being right there to catch him.

Worry filled her as her heart nearly stopped, feeling the wet patch of his suit. A gasp leaving her lips when she saw the blood that stained her hand.

She instantly started bringing him inside, not once did she let him go, even when he told her he would be fine.

His heart fluttered rapidly as he watched her, eyes looking up at her concentrated face as she cleans his wound.

She had him lay on his bed, helping to take the top half of his gear off. Now only laying in his pants and socks, chest and torso completely bare as she washed the blood from his skin.

He hardly felt her feather light touch as she cleaned him, his mind solely focused on her. He could’ve easily done this himself, as he’s done countless times. But he couldn’t help but let her, when he saw the worry in her eyes.

“Alright, this might sting a bit so I’m sorry.” She says, dampening a fresh cloth with disinfectant.

A slight grunt leaves his lips as she places the cloth to his skin, the alcohol burning his skin slightly. “I’m sorry.” She says, voice sounding pained as she looks into his steel eyes. “It’s alright, I’ve felt way worse before.” He says, a smile painted on his face as he looks at her. “I know, but I still don’t like when anything harms you.” “Then you must be miserable because I’m always in harm's way.” He chuckles, making her let out a laugh, feeling his heart thump wildly in his chest. He loved seeing her smile, feeling his heart soar in his chest whenever it was because of him. “But thank you anyway, for this.” He says, making her cheeks flush as he looks into her eyes. “Anytime, you know I’ll always be here to fix you up no matter what.” She says, hands now resting on his bandaged chest. His eyes looking into hers, a smile on his face.

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 22

Chapter Selection  

I stared at the ceiling, I couldn't wrap my head around that I would be graduating in two months. Everything I wanted and tried to be was going to happen. I was going to go to into the academy and train to be apart of the FBI. 

The fucking FBI. I had zero clue where I was going but that didn't matter to me. I could always work my way through the ranks. I'm a hard worker and always strive to do better with whatever I'm doing. But I needed to get a jump on things, needing to try an get ahead. 

The people there will be doing the same and i don't want to be behind. I took my phone off the bed side table and called Aaron, "Hello." 

I smirk to the sound of his voice. "Are you busy right now." I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. 

"Not at the moment." I started brushing my teeth. "Okay good, cause you're taking me shooting in an hour." 

"O- oh okay.... in a hurry?" 

"Not really, well kind of... you can't blame me for wanting to see my boyfriend."

 Aaron smiled, "No you're not, do you want me to meet you or am I going to pick you up." I finished my shower and threw on a black tank top with black ripped jeans. 

“Which ever you prefer." 

“I'll be there in an hour." 

We hung up the phone and I put in on the charger. Grabbing my laptop I needed to try and finish some assignments that were due at 5pm. I needed to go through my classes of Psychology and Victimology. Needing to write 3 papers for both classes. 

I would've done it the day before but I was busy with my work outs and Chloe had car trouble. The past few days had been hectic, but that's not an excuse. I just made it harder on myself. 

I brought the laptop into the kitchen and sitting on the stool. I didn't sit on the couch knowing if I got too comfortable I'd put it off more. While I waited for everything to load and start I got a cup of coffee. At this point coffee ran through my veins which wasn't good at all but I wasn't complaining. 

Getting in front of the computer I scrolled down the list. Needed two things done for each class, 2 papers with 3,000 words each. Fuck this, I groan out and loaded up Google Docs. Going to the rubric I looked at the requirements. 

The paper needed to be about rape and the other needed to be about social cognation.Turning my phone on airplane mode I took a sip and started typing. While writing I forgot about Aaron picking me up. 

After an hour of writing, Aaron was sitting in parking lot calling and texting me. Letting me know he was there, when I didn't answer he walked up the stairs and went to the door. 

Hearing the faint knock it broke me out of my concentration. I stood up and stretched over to the door. Aaron was about to knock again but I opened the door. "Did you not hear me calling you." 

I put a hand on my forehead, "Sorry I was doing homework, I turned off my phone." 

"That's fine I would've just liked a little notice before worrying myself." He chuckled and took a seat. I sat on his lap and turned the computer to face us. "What are you writing?", he rested his head on my shoulder, putting his arms around my waist. 

“Something for psychology... after I turn this in then I move on to Victimology." I had completed the paper for Psyc. After I turned it in I tapped his hand. Standing up and grabbing  my keys. 

Tugging on his hand, we walked out and I locked the door behind us. Getting into the car Aaron started driving over to the shooting range. His hand rested on my thigh and I put my small hand over his large one. 

Giving a small squeeze I glanced over to him. "Have you ever shot a gun?", I thought back to my childhood.

"A few times, with a friend. When my parents let me over there they would take me hunting. Got a few bucks but nothing special. If I remember my friends dad said and I quote I was the best shot he'd seen from someone my age." 

“How old were you?"

"Nine, like he said, I was the best." He chuckled and pulled into the raking lot. 

"Yeah well let's seen how you are without a hunting rifle." Since I was good with the rifle I didn't think I would have a problem with a handgun or really any gun for that matter. Except shotguns those had too much power for my liking. We walked in and Aaron handled everything with the guy working there. 

Heading into the range Aaron handed me the 9mm. Setting it on the gun and the clip on the table in front of me. "Go ahead." He nodded to me, we both put on the headphones before I did anything. 

Load the gun I aimed at the target ahead of me. Aaron stood behind me watching my form and how I shot.I held the gun in my right hand and supported with my left hand. "Don't put you're thumb on the trigger if you aren't ready." 

"I know", I said quietly and exhaled, pulling the trigger. The recoil hit me, forgetting how much a gun can kick. Pulling back, after the gun settled. I put it down and Aaron came to stand next to me, looking down the range.

Us being the only people in the room he took off his glasses and headphones, "Not bad... try bending your elbow slightly more." I nodded and he put his things back on. Picking it back up and aims down, following his advice and bent my arm more. 

Loosening my wrist a bit, I shot again. The recoil was slightly better, it wasn't so forceful. I got into a rhythm and forgot Aaron was standing behind me. Counting my shots, I stopped when the clip emptied. Checking the chamber to making sure it was empty. 

Aaron took the gun from my hand and pressed the button next to me. The target came towards us and we looked at where I hit. "You seem to have the hang of it. The way you were holding it made the bullets curve down a bit make sure you're arms aren't too loose." 

I turned to face him while he was talking. "Other than that... good job." He loaded another clip and handed it to me, he grinned at me. Leaning forwards I peaked his lips before going to shoot again. 

We stayed there for another hour, Aaron was making little changes on my form and giving me some tips. I appreciated his help with everything so far. He couldn't have been more helpful. 

Getting into the car he pulled out of the parking lot. "Thank you", he placed his hand on my inner thigh. "You don't have to thank me.... I would've ended up asking anyways. I want you to do great." 

Lacing my hand with his I earned my head back. "Do you have Jack tonight." "Hayley took him this morning", he already knew what I was going to ask. 

“Your place?", I saw a faint smile and he switched directions, going to his house. When we got there we walked through the front door. He grabbed my hand and guided me towards the shower. 

I dropped my things on his bed, "I don't have any clothes." Aaron looked around and walked to his closet. "You can wear me clothes... here." 

He handed me one of his older shirts and a pair of sweatpants. "Are you forgetting something?” 

He scrunched his eyebrows and went back to his drawer. Grabbing a pair of boxers and tossing them to me. I kissed his cheek and we got into the shower. His hands went my hips and his lips were drawn to my neck. 

"What are you doing?", I said smiling. "Nothing", me mumbled into my neck. I let out a soft moan and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back. "How about... we actually take a shower." 

“You're no fun", he said chuckling. "Oh I'm plenty fun." The shower was spent teasing each other and poking fun. 

After finishing I changed into Aarons clothes and laid down on my side of the bed. Once Aaron got behind me I curled up to his side like a magnet. 

________________

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[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- DUDLEY DEMENTED

The graveyard appeared in a haze around him, and the tombstones were the good features. The memory resurfacing in his mind's eye as he relived the moment again and again, Voldemort's ghastly white face, the threats and promises of his death, and always lingering in the background, Cedric-

"Harry, Harry love, wake up."

A gentle hand was brushing the bangs away from his face, only twitching slightly over the scar but continuing the methodic pattern. Squinting past the gray haze of sleep, he caught a glimpse of red, and for a moment was sure it was Ginny, but that faded absently from his mind without even fully registering why she'd be there.

Then he kept blinking, and instead of the wide brown eyes of Mrs. Weasley promising a hug whenever he did, or didn't, need one, his own green were staring down at him.

"Mum?"

For a moment Harry wasn't entirely sure if he was even awake...but his eyes were already closing again, her soft voice whispering reassurances, "it's alright dear, you're safe here."

Real or not, Harry felt himself relaxing under that touch, and soon faded back into a restless rem of a long dark corridor...

    Lily was cooking breakfast with an absent minded look on her face. She wasn't churning on the book they'd most recently finished though, if she lingered on that to long she was likely to start crying into the pot below her. No she was instead worrying over the fact that they had an Order meeting tonight, and the four of them would be unable to attend. Once she'd served breakfast and brought this to the attention of the others, Sirius brushed her off at once.

"Quit fretting Lil's, so we miss one meeting, they won't go flying off the handle for that."

"Besides, I think it's for the best," Remus grumbled towards his bowl without looking at anyone. "Doubt some of us could walk in there without executing a murder we couldn't fully explain." He took an extra hard bite at his spoon at the end, nearly ripping the metal off.

James's hand twitched on the way to his mouth, spilling porridge over his nose instead, and only after he'd carefully wiped it up did he say, "it's not like we can do anything about it. If someone comes around here asking questions, we'll do the same as we did before and pretend like nothing's wrong. It's none of their business if we're being extra cautious of late and didn't attend this one meeting."

Lily was stirring her food absently in the bowl, she hadn't touched a bite. She was too busy straining over the fact that they could honestly use the Order's help with this. They should know that there was a traitor among them before any more secrets were spilled, and she couldn't help the deep longing she had just to see them all. So many were going to die in the coming year.

Harry watched them all with a deep ache, again feeling personally responsible he was putting them in such a hard spot all because of his presence. No one was eating much anymore, and when Harry went to put his finished bowl away and began collecting the others no one protested.

Despite the fact that they all knew full well this stupid book was as likely as the last ones going to start with the Dursleys, Remus kept the baby almost hopefully in his lap. He felt safer with his little cub in his arms while hearing about them than having to picture this very infant around those people. Harry in particular couldn't help but smile when he saw this. Aside from his own parents, there was just something adorable about Remus holding a baby he couldn't put into words.

It was a somber group that flopped down into their spots in the living room and Sirius who started without much enthusiasm, and the book he had to grab wasn't helping. It was solid black, only the faint purple five on the spine barely catching the light showed it was next. Sirius tried to pretend that wasn't a bad omen as he cleared his throat.

Privet Drive was coming to the close of another heated day.

Sirius had never believed he could say a street name with as much hatred as he hurled that out with.

All cars were parked, and the once green lawns seemed to be withering on sight for the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought.

"Huh?" James asked in confusion. He'd admit he was also trying to delay a bit until he had to hear about the inside of one particular house.

"Hosepipes are used to pump water out," Lily grumbled more than explained, at this point she'd pay Sirius just to skip these parts until Harry could escape to the Burrow, but she also knew that wouldn't do any good. In some perverse way she wanted to know every terrible thing Petunia and Vernon had done to her son, that way she could kill them with a much more clear conscious knowing everything. "Sometimes in very hot summers, the city puts restrictions up so the residents have limited use."

James couldn't even imagine the idea, but then again, he'd never thought to question where the water came when he used a spell.

Without their usual aquatic uses to keep them busy outdoors, the inhabitants of Little Whinging were now more seen inside with all windows thrown open in attempts to coax a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outside was a boy in the flowerbeds of number four.

"Please tell me they don't have you out there pruning in that weather," Remus forced out between gritted teeth.

"Nope," Harry murmured. His memories of the summer were still murky, the last clear thing he remembered was getting off the train into Vernon's car, but he already had a bad feeling about how this summer had gone. Not that any of his summers at that place were ever really considered pleasant, so maybe he was just getting this one confused with a previous one? He hoped so, because the bad feelings bubbling up in him now weren't proving a good omen.

Very skinny, with black wild hair and spectacles covering green eyes, he looked even more unhealthy than usual laying in the dying plants.

"That comes from too little nourishment," Lily sneered, thinking back to the new levels of starving they'd been putting her boy through that past summer.

Harry Potter's appearance was an unwelcome sight to the sort of people in this town who thought scruffiness should be punishable by law,

"Well I think how you treat him is punishable by law!" James snapped, "and I can't bleeding wait to act on it."

Harry got the sense he wasn't going to be reporting the Dursleys to anyone, but his father would be facing his own law somewhere in there, causing Harry to inch away from him just a bit in fear. He really wasn't looking forward to what would happen to his muggle relatives when they got out of here.

but Harry had hidden himself behind some hydrangea bushes and so was currently invisible to anyone who would glare.

"Why were you hiding yourself?" Sirius asked, infusing some mischief into his voice Harry quickly shot away with an exasperated look. He had no more clue than them, yet. Besides that, Harry had always strived to keep himself out of trouble at the Dursleys, though hardly ever exceeding that wasn't the point.

The only way he could be spotted was if someone stuck their head out the window of the living room and looked directly down on him. Harry felt he should be congratulated for finding this spot.

"Well congratulations then," James nodded somberly. He really couldn't find any of his normal enthusiasm while having to hear about Harry there. He was half waiting any moment for Voldemort to pop up all over again and start trying to curse his son where he lay, though hopefully he'd at least hit Vernon first.

It may not have been comfortable, but it was far better than trying to sit in the living room where Vernon kept grinding his teeth so loud and snapping accusing questions at Harry, he couldn't hear the news.

Now Harry could feel the soft melding beginning on the edges of his mind as a memory was being returned, and he was more confident than ever his first impulse had been right, he'd found a new level of hate for his summer holidays. He was utterly confident it had something to do with watching the news, or perhaps a lack of news-

"I know you're not going to answer," Remus sighed as he watched baby Harry begin gumming on the sleeve of his robes, "but I really am curious why you're trying to spend time with them like that."

"Enjoying their company is not my reason for being in there," Harry at once said with conviction, "but I'm getting a bad feeling of why I am there."

"I get a bad feeling any time you're there," Lily sniffed, though everyone felt themselves tensing up even more at Harry's proclamation. What a way for this book to start, in such an already tense and uneasy atmosphere.

As if these thoughts had been spoken aloud, Vernon chose that moment to speak up and demand to know where their miscreant nephew was?

Petunia returned carelessly not in the house.

Vernon grunted this was a good thing, demanding of no one what that boy was really up to, he did not buy his story of watching the news.

Harry could feel the soft pressure it caused for his memories to be returned, his listening in on this conversation had finally given him a timeline of where in the summer he was, and the heavy sigh he released relieved no one of their worries. It managed to increase the look of agitation on Harry's face as he realized he'd been left to stew in nothing for a solid month with no useful contact from anyone. He threw Sirius in particular a disgruntled look for his letters he remembered from his godfather, then he sat there and really looked at him for a moment with some monster of a feeling telling him he should be valuing any letter Sirius sent him...

The others had noticed Harry, but they figured if he wasn't sharing it was best not to ask as that had only caused him pain in the past.

No normal boy should even be interested in such a thing, Dudley didn't have a clue who the Prime Minister was.

"He says that like it's a good thing," Remus cocked his head to the side in, well more disbelief than usual for Vernon's mental health.

"It does explain a bit about them though," Sirius curled his lip in disgust. "They enjoy their son being as daft as a stick like they are, they hate Harry for not conforming to that."

Vernon continued even louder in disbelief it's not as if his lot would be on the news-

Sirius rolled his eyes in disbelief at such a statement, he'd been on there only two years ago, and now Vernon even knew who he was. It wasn't actually possible for someone to be that dense was it?

"As if he doesn't know better," James snorted in disgust, thinking back to that first book which seemed like a kindness now, and all of their odd mentionings he'd tried to make a comment to Petunia about. He supposed Vernon had simply blocked that from his mind though, puny as it was, he needed the space for all his insults.

but Petunia quickly shushed him as she reminded the window was open.

"These people have far to much concern with being spied on," Lily scoffed in disgust, but she already knew how self important they found themselves.

"Petunia does enough of it," Remus forced something resembling a smile, "I'm sure she's just expecting retribution."

Vernon quickly agreed and silenced himself as another commercial started in their room. Out on the street, Harry was watching Mrs. Figg amble along apparently muttering to herself.

Harry's eyes narrowed in on this, he'd been far too shy when this had first been brought up, and far too out of it when Dumbledore had mentioned it in the last book, but now taking any excuse to not speak of the Dursley's for a moment Harry confirmed, "you said there was a Figg in the Order?"

"Yes," Remus confirmed, "but I'm still not convinced it's not the same one we know. Surely if she's been looking after you all these years, she'd have told Dumbledore about your err, living arrangements in your younger years." His face was murderous by the end at having to phrase a child living in a cupboard in that light, but if he'd actually said the words they'd come out more as a growl.

"I never told her that though," Harry shrugged, "never told anyone."

Lily narrowed her eyes on her son for that, but she blamed the Dursleys more than Harry for that. More than likely he'd been warned with a harsher punishment than no meals, she shuddered slightly at even the thought of that man putting his hands on her son and quickly cut off her train of thought while answering, "yes, well there's still the other things. Those ratty clothes and your very clear malnourishment plus never taking you anywhere while they spoiled Dudley rotten. Surely she'd at least mention that to Dumbledore who would have investigated further."

Harry wasn't as sure, the Dursley's had often spread around he was a sickly kid to excuse his looks and how they couldn't find any clothes to fit him properly, and there really was something nagging at his mind of Mrs. Figg and Dumbledore...but he let the matter go nonetheless.

Harry was more pleased than ever for his concealment, as Mrs. Figg had taken to inviting him round her place for tea when she caught sight of him recently.

Lily gave a soft little sigh of pity for the poor old thing, she probably got lonely especially since Harry hadn't stayed around anymore.

Vernon piped up in the living room again, asking if Dudders was out for tea?

Remus spluttered in shock as he looked at Sirius like he'd spoken Norwegian.

Sirius looked just as disbelieving as he rolled his eyes at what he'd said. "I'll believe Dudley's out having tea with friends when Harry dates Malfoy."

Harry retched at the idea theatrically while laughing along with the others, privately thinking to himself all that he'd already caught Dudley doing that summer when he was supposedly 'out.' His parents really were blind.

Petunia responded with fondness at once of which friend's house he was at tonight, cooing over how many of his little play mates he had.

James scoffed in disgust, he had more reasons than he'd ever dream of hating these stupid in laws of his, but their continued ignorance still chafed him for just how purposefully stupid they were being.

Harry suppressed a snort with difficulty. The Dursleys really were astonishingly stupid about their son, Dudley.

"Yet I'm not even surprised," Remus rolled his eyes.

Harry's cousin wasn't out having tea with anyone, but was instead out with his gang terrorizing all the children of the neighborhood and vandalizing whatever they pleased.

They were all muttering in frustration at this little delinquent, but honestly it was just a nice change of pace to hear he wasn't tormenting Harry as much as he'd seemed to before they weren't putting too much effort into it.

Harry had witnessed it himself while scavenging the streets looking for newspapers.

Sirius finished that a bit sadly, his mind flickering back to his having done the same in Hogsmeade and not appreciating the similarities to him and his godson in these lights. Harry was probably getting just as much food as a few rats at that place as well.

"Why were you scavenging for newspapers?" James asked with a wince, trying to deny he'd been picturing the same thing as Sirius.

Harry chewed on that for a moment, debating whether to tell them and get it over with or let the book tell as it most likely would, but it didn't take much to decide on the first as he explained the lackluster mail he'd been getting from his friends.

There was a moment of shocked silence before Remus shook his head sadly at Harry and said, "I think you're putting a little too much stock into your friends with that. What exactly do you think they're not telling you, Voldemort walking up the street? No, he's in hiding, they can't offer up anymore."

It was clear as day the anger in Harry's tone as he'd explained it, but this explanation didn't simmer him any. "I don't understand why they had to be so cryptic about it though, it made it sound like they knew something I didn't." This usually happened every time he was at the Dursley's, as old feelings never failed to pop up of his years of isolation there and it somehow felt so much worse that summer.

"Is that really safe?" Lily tried to change the subject into something she found far more important. "The only reason you're at that bleeding place is because you're somehow protected at that house, is wandering the streets a good idea?"

"I couldn't be locked up in that house all the time," Harry scowled, "I'd go mad and beg Ron to come get me again. It's Dumbledore's fault for not explaining that to me." He felt a little bad for his petulant tone when he watched everyone around him flinch, clearly they were all fearing some coming attack by Death Eaters now. Harry wasn't afraid of that, if it hadn't happened by now he didn't see why Voldemort's return would suddenly cause it. That wasn't entirely accurate though...had Death Eaters ever shown up in Private Drive? He was getting some interesting feelings trying to flip across his mind. He was in some kind of danger this summer, and he would be getting guests at his house...but then Sirius had kept going and he stopped thinking about it.

Finally the opening music for the local news began, and Harry was instantly on alert. His stomach clenched with anticipation, as hopefully tonight, after all this time...

"What are you hoping to find anyways?" James asked.

"Strange deaths, disappearances, anything indicating what Voldemort's doing," Harry said like he thought that was obvious.

"While I get what you're going for," Sirius shook his head at him, "I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself. If that's the kind of stuff you were hoping Ron and Hermione would send you, then it's no wonder you're disappointed. Voldemort tries his hardest to keep himself in the shadows as often as possible, it's certainly scarier that way."

"Didn't you notice the pattern last year," James agreed. "Of the people we know he killed, they were all fairly insignificant and wouldn't have taken much notice. The only reason Bertha did was because most likely Crouch, and he had his own reasons to find her and his own secrets to protect, she was sloppy." No one could miss how haggard his face looked in the end as they all remembered who's sloppy kill that was.

"But someone must have some idea of what he is doing," Harry insisted, already realizing he was going to feel bad for the way he'd been thinking of his friends this summer once he'd had this explained.

"Well yes," Remus agreed, "but that's not something you'd put in a letter." Privately he also agreed he wasn't entirely sure if anyone in the Order would tell Harry even if they could. Sirius was the most likely, and they weren't even sure where he was right now. Remus seemed to have just fallen off the face of the earth and wouldn't be telling anyone anything, and clearly Dumbledore was trying to keep Harry out of the loop by having him at the Dursleys for as long as he was.

Harry grumbled a bit more but sighed in agreement.

It started with stranded holidaymakers because of a Spanish baggage-handler strike- but was cut off by Vernon muttering he hoped they enjoyed their siesta.

Lily was fighting back the urge of a few nasty insults she'd like to throw Vernon's way, she wanted Harry to leave this news venture just so she wouldn't have to hear his commentary on every little thing.

Hardly any of that registered with Harry though as he seemed to deflate with disappointment. Bigger news like deaths and destructions would have trumped stranded holidayers.

"While true," Remus agreed, "I'm not sure I understand your disappointment with that."

"Better to know what's going on than this constant wondering and worrying," Harry grumbled.

They wanted to argue the point, but what could they say. They couldn't tell Harry to at least try to enjoy his summer while he could, not where he was. He had nothing to take his mind off these things, and they could already feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves.

Harry forced himself to keep listening anyways, the same pattern as the rest of this summer. Waiting, tension building and expectations running wild until he sat down and heard the nothing, and the questions began again of why nothing had happened yet.

Lily sighed as she wrapped a tight arm around Harry, remembering back to his early days of discovering the wizarding world and how he'd spent his summer days longing to go back to school. She'd rather hear about that than his desire to go chasing after Voldemort.

The rest of the stories held no more intrigue for him, nor Vernon's commentary on it all. Especially the escalation of the drought story and Vernon's waspish comments as he hopped his neighbor heard this one, him with his sprinklers on at three in the morning.

"As if he's not doing the exact same thing," Remus scoffed.

"Actually he wasn't," Harry shrugged, "he treated us all to a lengthy dinner speech about the importance of upholding such laws and he found it befouling anyone would do otherwise."

"Yet another reason I intend on murdering him," James sneered, "torturing you with his arrogant attitude like that."

"Still as pompous an arse as ever then," Sirius rolled his eyes, though honestly he wouldn't be surprised if the man was still a hypocrite and did it without Harry's even noticing.

A helicopter had almost crashed in a field in Surrey,

"That counts as a little strange," Lily offered just to see her son stop looking like that for a moment, though she really didn't think it had anything to do with Voldemort.

"It was because they were training a new pilot though," Harry sighed, "I definitely found that believable enough."

then onto a story of some actresses divorce which Petunia stated shouldn't even be in here, though she'd put her bony hands on every scrap of news she could find.

"So she is a hypocrite," Lily sniffed, though she was well aware by this point.

Finally Harry lost his patience as Bungy the budgie had been trained to water ski!

"That's actually quite talented," Sirius snickered a bit at training a bird to do that.

"Muggle's have the strangest news," James had his head cocked to the side as he heard all of this.

If this had made it in there was no more point in listening, so Harry carefully rolled onto his front and was preparing himself to crawl far enough away from the window before he could stand again.

He hadn't made it an inch when a crack broke the street like a gunshot,

Sirius had never really gotten to a carefree mode of reading, Harry being around these people just made him too uneasy, but now he was reading as tense and upset as if Harry had been around that troll all over again. Anything that sounded like a gunshot couldn't be a good thing.

Even if James hadn't remembered what a gunshot was he would have instantly been as tense and upset as the others just from the way they all were.

a cat streaked out from under a parked car and flew out of sight;

Harry was too busy feeling the echo of adrenaline trying to jump him even if he didn't feel it now to wonder on why he should be thinking of that.

a shriek of fright echoed inside the house, and Harry was on his feet in the same second, unsheathing his wand for a fight.

Remus was far too concerned with the vision of Death Eater's really attacking Harry there to congratulate him on those reflexes.

He hadn't gained his full height yet when his head crashed into something.

Harry hissed and went cross eyed in pain as he rubbed the top of his head, but that still didn't drop the determined look on his face nor how his hand stayed tight around his wand. If he looked like this now with just a delayed after effect while trying not to do anything about it, they could all easily imagine how fierce he looked on the actual situation. It didn't do much to make any of them feel better as they all remembered just how alone he was there.

Harry tried to stagger away and keep his eyes focused on everything, to understand where that noise had come from, but before he'd got his bearings back two hands entrapped his throat from the open window.

For a moment Sirius was convinced someone was squeezing their hands around his throat, his vision blurred out as he saw red then black from what he'd just forced out in shock. There was just no way possible that monster was actually squeezing his godson's throat!

Then a monstrous noise registered, and Sirius wasn't allowed to act on whatever his impulse had been leading him to break because he was flying into action.

"Let me GO!" James continued to thrash no matter how tight the hold on him was. "I don't care if I get knocked out, I'll kill him before I do!"

Remus nearly fell back down the stairs, he'd bolted up there and put the baby down in his crib the moment he realized what all was happening and only just came back in time to try and stop his friend as well. "Think about what your saying Prongs," Remus begged, trying to stay in his face while avoiding the thrashing limbs. "You won't get a foot when Harry's going to have to drag your arse back here, and what if it's worse this time-"

"I don't care!" James howled, his elbow now slamming repeatedly into Sirius' ribs as he kept trying to make his way to that bleeding door.

Harry watched with horror at this reaction, which finally wore off when his fingers started grasping at the handle, so he darted forward to try and say his part, "Dad, please, it-"

"AND YOU!" James snarled, his face the deepest shade of red as his wild eyes flashed between the door and his son now. "You lied to me! You said they never put hands on you!"

"I said they never left a bruise," Harry quickly corrected.

He blinked as all three of them froze in what they were doing and just stared at him, Sirius arms even went slack and James clearly didn't notice.

James stood there, vibrating in place as he snarled, "lying by omission is still a lie Harry! The bloody hell, how many times had he done this!?"

Harry was frowning in concern, rocking on his feet as he watched him with unease, but when he failed to answer James made a guttural, maddening sound as he stormed away, at least in the opposite direction up the stairs. He shoved a vase off a stand on the way, though as Lily noted when she darted after him it had been a gift from Petunia so it seemed fitting.

The last thing the three at the bottom of the stairs herd was a few more objects breaking and Lily crying, "no, James, not that one!"

Harry's face was stark white in shock as he whispered, "he's really mad at me."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a broken look. Neither of them were feeling much calmer than their friend, but the terror now written on Harry was doing a pretty good job of reminding them they shouldn't try and mimic his actions.

"Not you," Remus sighed,

"-by much," Sirius muttered.

"but Harry, what were you thinking?" Remus quickly moved past that sense it only made Harry look even more upset.

"I just," he threw his hands up in the air in frustration, his mind scrambling as he tried to come up with a way to make them see. "You guys have to understand I never told anyone about this, anyone. Not Ron, it just-" he sighed and flattened his hair onto his head for a moment, starting to pace and still throwing panicked eyes at the stairs where now no noise at all could be heard.

Sirius sucked in a deep breath, watching Harry pad back and forth for several more beats before saying, "I get that. It took me ages to tell James what my mum did to me."

Harry paused then, watching Sirius with dark weary eyes. Sirius leaned back against the stairs banister, trying for all the world to look casual as he said, "I grew up a nosy little child, always asking one to many questions, and my mum hated that. She always said I was never a proper Black, and she tended to curse me for it, a lot. Her favorite was to use the Transmogrifian Torture, it popped a limb out of socket and she'd leave it like that until I properly apologized and said I'd do better and stuff. That never left a bruise either," he finished with a mutter, rubbing absently at his shoulder.

He looked over to see Harry had a new kind of horrified look on his face, and Sirius nodded solemnly as he kept going, "things didn't get any better for me once I started school. My first morning there when she'd found out I was in Gryffindor, she sent me a howler so bad it made what Neville's Gran and Ron's mum sent look like a love letters. I ran out of there trying my damndest not to cry, and James caught up to me and demanded to know what that was about. I didn't tell him, not really, just kind of fudged around it and we ended up missing our first Transfiguration class, though for some reason McGonagall didn't say anything to me," he added with a rueful smile. "Then Remus let us borrow his notes so that we could do our homework, so it was never even brought up. He wasn't even technically our friend yet."

"I think I just somehow knew I'd better get used to it," Remus said with a roll of his eyes, taking a seat on the steps anyways and propping his head in his hands like he was trying to pretend this was all casual stuff.

Sirius gave him a nudge with his foot before rounding up, "I didn't go home for that Christmas or Easter holiday, but my summer there wasn't pretty. She basically disowned me, swearing up and down I could never make up for this terrible mistake I made." He gave a tragic look to the ceiling, then smirked at Harry before finishing, "a memory I look back on quite fondly now."

They watched Harry for another second, and this time he did open his mouth before quickly closing it, clearly still dithering, so Remus instead said, "my parents are afraid of me."

Sirius had to bite back the instant feeling he had of correcting Remus, he'd only met his parents twice and he'd never gotten that impression, but Remus seemed to feel anyone who wasn't an Animagus was afraid of him no matter what they said. It was one of the reasons he avoided his own dad now.

"What?" He squawked in surprise, looking Remus in the eye to make sure that wasn't some cruel joke.

He just shrugged however, though his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his robes showed his careless tone wasn't really all there as he explained, "well, they certainly never look me in the eye. They asked me if I could even try to stay at Hogwarts over summer break because they realized the school was much better equipped to handle me. During my full moons, they'd shut me up in a room, sort of like they had to do here, and then leave the house for twenty four hours, just to make sure they weren't around for any part of the cycle."

Harry's mouth was actually hanging open in shock now, which only made Remus give a not at all amused smile. "Oh they took care of me after the fact, bandaged me up and all that. I never knew if it was shame, or fear, or something else, but I do know I stopped going around my parents place not long after I left school, and they've never asked me over since. Last time I saw them was when my Mum passed away and I honestly thought when I was asked up to the hospital it was a joke."

Harry seemed to realize he was staring then, and quickly closed his mouth, but at least this time he didn't turn away from them and instead ran his hand through his hair some more as he said haplessly, "I, don't know what you want me to say. He throttled me sometimes, but only when I was much younger, when my magic was really obvious. He only did it till I went slack, and I learned to do that pretty fast, then he'd lock me in my cupboard until he'd decided I'd learned my lesson. It never did leave a bruise," he emphasized, now rubbing absently at his throat in remembrance.

"How come you never went to the police, told someone," Remus asked gently.

Harry rolled his eyes at what he felt was an absurd question. "Even if I'd had the gall to, which I didn't as Vernon terrified me through most of my younger years, I had no proof, which he'd occasionally point out whenever someone looked at me on the street to long. You think I didn't notice that Dudley and I were clearly so different from each other. But Vernon always said that if I ever said a word about how they'd dealt with any of my weirdness, I couldn't prove it. They'd say that Dudley's second bedroom was mine, and they really only did take food away from me whenever my magic was acting up, never so much I was malnourished."

He paused then, a calculating look on his face as he added, "I don't really think Petunia or Dudley knew, or if they did they didn't care. Petunia was certainly all for the food part though, so I may not put it past them."

Harry looked back to see that a nerve was thumping in both of their jaws, and he was quick to tack on, "he really did stop after I turned eleven though. He was definitely to afraid of my magic, and it really wasn't that frequent."

"And your twelfth birthday," Sirius managed to get out in a steel tone.

Harry flattened his hair with nerves, but at this point recognized there was no reason not to tell them. "Okay, yeah, he did it then until I did pass out. Woke up in the bathroom and they wouldn't let me out until Vernon had put those bars on my window. They've got their own bathroom in their bedroom, so it hardly put them out."

He crossed his arms defensively when they just kept staring at him. "What? What I just said isn't nearly as bad as what you two had."

While they weren't exactly going to argue with him over such a topic it hardly made what he did say feel better.

Up the stairs in their room, Lily watched James collapse on the bed. He'd taken his glasses off first, so that he could press his hands so hard into his face, his palms digging into his eyes, he looked like he was trying to gouge them out.

"James," she whispered, sinking down beside him, but completely at a loss for words.

"I can't stop seeing it," he got out through a restricted throat. "The cupboard, Pettigrew, Harry watching Cedric get murdered right in front of him, now this. I'm fighting this war to try and save my only child, and at this rate my dying feels about as useful as my life."

"Don't-" she begged at once, her hands latching onto his, trying to pull them away, but he still managed to keep going, "I couldn't even save you. You're the one who saved Harry, I just got tossed aside like the useless thing I am-"

"James, please, you can't be thinking like that." She cut him off, nearly begging to try and get him to stop. She had to tug hard for a moment, but finally his hands slid away to reveal bloodshot eyes. She stayed leaning over him, hazel matching green as she whispered, "don't you think I'm feeling the same way. She was my sister James, and she's doing this to my baby, but don't you start talking like that now. We will find a way to fix this, make it so that Harry never has to be without us again."

James gave a derisive snort, his eyes still vacant as he whispered, "some dad I'd turned out to be anyways, Harry's been lying his arse off since he got here, and did you see that look on his face. Now I've scared him senseless, I'll be lucky if he doesn't look at me the way he does Vernon now. Should probably just hand him over to Sirius already and be done with it for all the-"

Lily popped him on the forehead, and when he only winced but kept at his insane mutterings, she smacked him, hard.

"James, listen to yourself," she pleaded. "If Harry doesn't understand why you were so upset then that's because he's never had his father around to be upset on his behalf, but he could never put you and Vernon in the same scope of his life. You're too good a person, and he knows that."

His face twitched, like he wanted to believe her but couldn't quite grasp the emotion yet, so she kept going. "And if you actually think Harry would replace Sirius with you if he had the chance, then you really need a reality check. They both love you, and they need you. It's a damn cruel world where Harry's from that you're not in the picture, but both of them would do anything to change that."

He closed his eyes then, his jaw still shaking, a few tears managing to escape, but at least for a moment Lily had seen the flash in him like he believed that.

There was silence for a long time between them, Lily not moving a muscle and James trying to get his under control, until finally he took a careful breath in through his nose and releasing it through his mouth before whispering, "I love you."

"I love you to," she said back at once.

He opened his eyes then, watching her for several more beats before moving like he was going to sit up. Lily sat back and let him, but she was at once buried into his chest as he wrapped his arms as tight around her as he could. "What did I do to deserve you?" He muttered into her hair.

"If I figure it out, I'll let you know," she returned, snuggling him for as long as they both needed, before he took another deep breath and whispered;

"Guess I should go back down and face them."

"They're all worried sick about you," Lily said at once. "You looked likely to jump through a window when you came pelting up here."

He made an odd noise, one Lily couldn't decide if it was in agreement or protest, but then he took to his feet, put his glasses back on, and started for the door, her hand still tightly in his, their rings pressed together.

As they came back down they saw Remus had to hop out of the way, and quickly took in the other two. Sirius who was an ugly gray but trying to pretend he was acting normal, and Harry's arms crossed and still looking defensive. It did not improve his mood that when Harry saw him, his foot looked like he wanted to take an automatic step back, but he met his eyes and at once whispered, "I'm sorry."

James opened his mouth, couldn't think of anything to say, closed it, and walked past him back to the living room. Lily met her son's eyes as well, but didn't release her hold on James and instead hissed something at him as James made for the recliner. He didn't respond, instead sinking down into that and pulling his wife with him. She perched on his lap, giving him a look that said plainly she did not approve of his actions, but when he wrapped his arms around her waist again and didn't look up to moving, she just rolled her eyes and looked back towards them expectantly.

"He's mad at me," Harry murmured for Sirius and Remus' ears alone.

"Only for the next hour or so," Sirius waved it off. "I pissed him off real good when I denied what my mother had been doing to me for most of my childhood. These two asked me a lot of the same questions they'd been asking you when I came back from holiday, and I gave a lot of the same answers. Didn't admit to it all till I ran away, and even while he was helping me unpack he was ribbing me."

"If there's one thing you want to do to piss Prongs off, it is lie to him," Remus nodded in agreement. "When he found out how long I'd gone without telling him about my being a werewolf, he was really ticked, so much so he went and did something illegal," he finished with an amused smile, causing Sirius at least to laugh.

Harry did not join in, still watching his dad with clear guilt on his face, but followed the other two as they went back into the room as well. He stood in the doorway, and finally he couldn't take it anymore. He'd never in his life imagined his father so angry with him, and the rejection trying to well up inside him and cast a new shade of light on every good memory he'd collected so far had the words bursting out of him before he'd considered them. "I'm sorry, alright. I'll tell you, I promise-" he tried to think of some way to begin, but the words failed him, so honestly stalling for time he finished in a whisper, "after this chapter's over."

James only hesitated a beat, nodded to indicate he'd heard, but still didn't unbury himself from Lily's back.

Harry quickly shuffled to the farthest sofa away, trying to curl himself into the cushions and looking anywhere but at his parents.

James had his face pressed into Lily's spine, doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn't paying attention to any of them, while Lily was giving him the stank eye over her shoulder but clearly wasn't moving until she saw something else.

Remus and Sirius exchanged uneasy looks, but finally Remus sat down next to Harry and Sirius went back to fetch the book. The last thing he actually wanted to do was go back and see how long Vernon had his hands on Harry before his little pup passed out, for all he knew he'd barely get a few more words in before he incited rage all over again from himself and James. Normally this would be the time Harry would step in, read for them as a reminder he was fine, but for now he was pretending to be invisible.

It also occurred to all three of them that they'd had this conversation when James and Lily hadn't even been here, so they'd never even gotten their sons full confession. Remus and Sirius locked eyes, knowing now probably wasn't the time, but hopefully by the end of this chapter everyone would be at least a bit calmer and they'd convince Harry to tell Lily and James what he'd told them. Sirius fidgeted with the page for a long time, before finally the silence dragged on and he felt he had no other choice but to keep going.*

Vernon was snarling into Harry's ear to put that thing away before anyone saw it!

Harry tried to pry his fingers away, telling him to get off, all while keeping his wand steadily pointed.

Sirius' fingers were so tight around the book they were beginning to hurt, but he couldn't release his hold one little bit, he was too busy picturing them being around Vernon's neck.

The pain of it all piqued, and Vernon yelped as he removed himself from Harry.

Remus wasn't even distracted by the coppery taste of blood in his mouth from biting his tongue to stop himself uttering a string of constant curses, his own throat vibrating violently already showing how he felt about having to imagine that being done to Harry. The very worst part was, this still wasn't the worst thing happening. There could still be danger around Harry, and Vernon was merely causing a fatal distraction.

An invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold.

Lily's face was ghastly white as that image kept floating just behind her mind's eye, blocking out her once peaceful living room and adult son trying to burrow himself out of sight behind Sirius and into the couch. How many times had this happened in his youth? Often enough it was clear this was a common reaction of Vernon's to begin throttling Harry, even in plain view of the street like that. Had his accidental magic ever kicked in before? Or had he never held on so long this happened? She hardly wanted answers to any of these questions, she was still likely to vomit and start skinning that walrus already with her own.

Harry stumbled out of the plants and forced himself to remain on the rest of the street, but there was no sign of any person to have made that noise. There were people starting to peek into the street.

This only reinforced what Lily had just been thinking though, and now she couldn't shake the thought! How on earth was that excuse- that was such a blatant sign of abuse and surely someone had just seen it as the neighbors were looking around. Did everyone in that neighborhood care so little about Harry's well being because of the Dursley's lies no one was going to do anything about this!

Harry stuffed his wand hastily back into his jeans and tried to look innocent.

Harry glanced half hopefully at Remus or Sirius, like he was hoping one of them would make a joke at his expense, but neither of them did, they were still too pail from anger to take the bait. Both were thinking of themselves in the future, what they wished they'd already done to Vernon but each having never done so and neither finding it excusable.

Vernon began playing it off at once, waving cheerfully to all and shouting about some car backfiring.

James still had his face buried in his wife's hair, though the fiery color was doing little to improve his mood it still held the only comfort he could find at the moment, and was far to distracted to ask what on earth that could mean in any relation to the noise Harry reacted to. He was just more disgusted Vernon was playing off his own moment.

He continued to grin in a horrible, manic way,

"I've never seen him grin like anything else though," Harry grumbled softly, as the silence apart from the violent reading was starting to freak him out. He'd grown far to used to the constant flow of commentary, and had learned that long lapses in silence like this were usually at the worst of times. He didn't agree this leveled up with other moments.

until the other faces vanished. Then his grin flipped to rage as he beckoned Harry back to him.

Harry flinched in shock at the eruption of growls in the room, but at least this time he understood why. He hadn't wanted to be back in arm's reach of Vernon then either.

Harry only moved a few steps closer, being careful to remain out of arm's reach.

It was highly unlikely before this moment that the Dursleys were going to live much longer when they were released from this place, but now whatever wavering may have persisted at Harry's words wouldn't even hold. It was utterly astounding he'd ever done so when he clearly had memories of this happening to him in his younger years!

He hissed at Harry what he meant by it?

"I hope he had the bleeding piss scared out of him," Remus hissed, choosing to focus on the disappointment this moment didn't cause Vernon heart failure rather than the still lingering fear of what was going on to start this.

Harry asked what he meant while still investigating the street for the noise that had started this.

Despite James' hands still wrapped tight around her waist, Lily was still fighting the urge to go over to her son right now and have him in her arms to make absolutely certain there wasn't anything wrong with him because of this instance. To run her hands gently over his neck, to be where he was and be just as certain no one was going to harm her son while he was surrounded by all those Muggles.

He furiously retorted Harry had made that sound, but Harry interrupted he hadn't done that.

Petunia's face appeared next to Vernon's now, demanding to know what he'd been doing outside their window then?

Sirius had to work furiously with himself not to give some waspish reply, that was far to similar to how his mother had treated him in the house he'd grown up in. Treating every room that wasn't his as if Sirius were trespassing in it.

Vernon at once agreed with his wife, she'd made a good point.

James felt his lip curling up in disgust, did that man have a single brain cell of his own?

Harry sighed before answering, and the two exchanged a look of outrage.

Harry almost laughed as he remembered those looks as compared to the ones his family still had in place. Vernon and Petunia had nothing on outrage when it came to them.

They demanded why he was doing this again, and Harry reminded it changed every day.

That did it. Harry's unexpected comment cracked Remus and he snorted in surprise but just as quickly tried to stifle his giggling. It wasn't hard, he could still feel bloodlust wanting him to curse something into oblivion, but at least Harry met his eyes and grinned back which made it worth it.

Vernon snapped at him to stop lying, his lot did not get onto their news!

Petunia whispered at his side to be careful, the neighbors could still be listening.

Lily rolled her eyes and tisked in disgust. She didn't care it was nearly fourteen years later for the man, he knew perfectly well her lot did in fact end up on the news from time to time, it had been what had drawn the man to question Petunia about Lily's whereabouts all those years ago. Either he'd blocked the memory or he'd forgotten, either way she no longer needed an excuse to find anything he said or did the lowest form of stupid.

Harry shot back that's all they knew.

The two exchanged a look again before Petunia called him a liar. He shouldn't have need of their news, he got his own from those owls.

"Because Merlin forbid he just get letters from his friends," Sirius muttered tersely. His knuckles still white around the books edge and the fearsome tone of his voice hadn't dropped one bit and Harry was starting to grow worried that none of them seemed to be breathing normally for a while now.

Harry hesitated responding, it pulled at him to tell the truth this time,

"Why do you bother!?" James couldn't stop his snap of outrage, but either Harry was expecting it this time or he just rolled with it Harry didn't flinch this time before answering calmly, "I rarely see a point in lying if I can help it." He did finish on a wince though as all of them gave him looks of disbelief for that, considering his lie by omission was a part of the reason everyone in here looked more than angry. He sighed and muttered something, but was sick of lingering on this topic so shot at Sirius, "do you want me to read through this part?"

"No," Sirius snapped right back, turning his boggling eyes away from Harry for now and effectively hiding a tint of hurt now. He couldn't help it though, he seemed to go out of his way to tell those Dursleys the truth as often as he could, but wouldn't for them? In his time or now?

but finally he admitted those owls weren't bringing real news.

Both snapped they didn't believe him at once.

"Don't see the point of telling them the truth when clearly they think he's lying about everything anyways," Lily was still hissing under her breath so low only James could hear, and he was in full agreement.

Petunia said she knew he was up to something,

"Like what exactly?" Remus rolled his eyes in contempt.

"Don't know, never asked for details," Harry said with a happy enough smile, at least someone was trying to push back into playing this off even if every part of Remus clearly didn't feel it. Harry was honestly wishing Remus hadn't put the baby away now, even that little infant would have helped them feel better.

and Vernon added on they weren't stupid.

There were several colorful comments each of them could have made to that, but considering Vernon would have long since died before this conversation had taken place if any of them had had their way besides Harry, Sirius didn't bother listening to the variety and instead kept up his lackluster reading in hopes this chapter would just end. Anger and worry were still at war with each other over Harry's predicament, and he wanted some kind of proof his little pup wasn't about to be attacked right there on the street and that Vernon was going to have his hands removed soon, not necessarily in that order.

Harry snapped back that was news to him!

Remus couldn't help it that time, he did manage a soft laugh under his breath for Harry's wit, but he was still the only one.

Harry couldn't help rolling his eyes at what he was now considering an overreaction from everyone else. He was fine, and if they really wanted another apology he'd give it just to stop all of this ugly silence and silent death threats he could still feel pulsing through the room.

He didn't wait for a response, but instead stormed off before either of them could call him back and was soon at the end of the street.

Lily blinked spastically for a moment as fear finally trumped anger. Harry was only at that place because apparently it was safe from dark attacks, but now he'd up and left with the noise of an apparition still going unexplained. Exactly how far was that protection magic around number four? Just the house, the street? Yet for even a second to turn around and say she wanted Harry to stay at that house for a moment longer would always feel wrong, it really spoke volumes she'd prefer Harry's chances with a dark wizard rather than her sister and husband in law.

He was in trouble now and he knew it.

Remus was dying to ask Harry what he defined as 'trouble' with those people. Another round of strangling? Harry'd made it clear it wasn't that common, but now he truly was in the dark of how much Harry could be leaving out there. Sirius was still reading every word as a death sentence and very clearly wanting to finish this, and since Remus was well aware Harry wasn't getting out of this conversation again at the end of the chapter he didn't bring it up for now.

He would have to face his aunt and uncle later and pay the price for his rudeness,

Sirius couldn't take the suspense anymore and did ask, "pay what price exactly?"

Harry wanted to sigh and roll his eyes, try and play this all off or just ignore it like he had in the past, but at this point he was sure that wouldn't help any. He didn't see how telling them the entire truth would make it much better, but he wasn't sure it could get any worse either. "Threats mostly, he knew he couldn't do anything to me, even if he knew I wasn't supposed to be doing magic he was still afraid I would after Marge. Locking me in the shed mostly, he even kept the padlock all nice and polished," he finished with a forced laugh like looking back made it funny rather than as menacing as he'd honestly found it, but he'd instead been right the first time, several disturbing noises promising more violence and more death glares at the door showed his honesty had won him nothing.

but he didn't care at that moment, his mind still on other matters.

That cracking noise was one made when someone Apparated, or Disapparated.

Harry was still very distracted by the tension that had practically taken up a seat in this room, and he had no want to think about the tingling feeling saying he could have a gut answer to that question.

No one else had really forgotten what had started the instance either, and honestly fear was starting to trump outrage. None of them could wait to start wringing Vernon's neck themselves, they'd probably have to find an object to do so considering their hands wouldn't wrap around but that wasn't the point. Now though, now that Harry was away from him, the reason he'd left was hovering in the forefront just waiting to pounce on their aching hearts. Most likely it was a Death Eater coming for Harry, and he'd now left the only protection he'd had.

Harry may not have understood why as he wasn't fearing the same thing, but he was relieved when Sirius finally started reading in less blood thirsty tones and hoped he'd finally switch back to at least semi normal.

It was exactly the noise he'd heard Dobby make, and suddenly wondered if it was the house-elf that was the cause of this?

Lily could tell she was the only one who was desperately hoping for that to be the answer. The other boys were all still too upset to even consider any kind of good option other than an attack waiting, but Lily was honestly hoping now it was Dobby with some cryptic new message. She'd take that over a fight for his life as strung out as she was right now.

Could Dobby be invisible right now following him? Harry suddenly whirled on the spot like he expected to see the tiny creature hovering right behind him, but still there was nothing, and Dobby could not become invisible.

Harry was looking on at nothing in a funny sort of way, his face twisted as he was so sure he was moments away from realizing something, about being followed by invisible-

"Not invisible," Remus agreed uneasily, "but you do know he can hide at least in a bush." His thoughts were hovering the same as the other boys, that a wizard could be hidden even more easily. Though it did beg the question, if Harry was under attack, why the hiding at all? Were they waiting until he was far enough away from Private Drive to attack? It was hard to see another motive when they were all still on the edge of their seat and white faced from anger.

He kept up his trudging pace, paying no attention to his route as he'd traced through these streets so much of late he would often wander to his favorite spots without thinking.

Lily tried to force herself to see some good news in this, that this wasn't Harry's first foray out of that house that summer and he hadn't been attacked yet. Her hand tightened around James' though as her mind just kept offering up more terrible solutions, that he was just being watched, and someone was waiting.

He couldn't stop glancing back over his shoulder, still convinced there was something magical about that noise he'd heard amongst Petunias begonias.

Harry fidgeted with unease as he was just as sure of this fact now, but he felt no impending threat from this like he was now aware those around him did. Yet that didn't stop a trickle of sweat breaking over the back of his neck as he couldn't find it in himself to comfort them either, to promise nothing bad was going to happen this night. In fact he was now fighting back the impulse to take the book away from Sirius again for a wholly other reason, something bad was going to happen to him tonight and he didn't think his godfather in particular was going to enjoy it.

Why hadn't they come up to him?

Remus shook his head in disbelief at Harry as he asked, "did it really not occur to you this could be an attack?"

"Not really," he sighed. "Dumbledore said the only reason I was going there was because it was supposed to be safe."

They wished they had that kind of faith in Dumbledore, but seeing as they'd never once seen that house as any kind of safe none of them agreed.

As his question burned, his certainty faded. Perhaps it hadn't been a magical noise at all, but something perfectly ordinary Harry was trying to see more into.

"Glory Harry, now I know you've been spending too much time with those muggles," Sirius sighed. "Trying to write off our instances as normal things."

Harry finally felt a real smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Sirius tried for a joke again, somehow it felt better to watch them worry about something they knew he lived through like some impending attack then fear for his health at the Dursleys.

Feeling hopeless and alone, the same thoughts began plaguing him as they had all summer.

Lily felt James twitch behind her, the compulsion to go comfort his son when he heard of that feeling rearing its head and pushing away his own feelings. He sighed deeply, but finally unburied himself from her hair and glanced around at Harry now to see a far away, contemplative look on his face as he rubbed absently at his head while Sirius read, but thankfully there weren't any traces of hopelessness in him now.

Tomorrow the pattern would continue, he'd awake at five o'clock sharp to receive his Daily Prophet, though he often questioned why he continued to bother with the paper as he only took a passing glance at the headline and tossed it in the bin. If the idiots running it finally found news of Voldemort's return, that would be the first page, which was all Harry cared for.

Remus shook his head at Harry's naivety, he was looking for odd instances occurring in the Muggle news but only scanning front headlines of theirs? He was most likely going off his experience last year of the two headlines featuring Barty Crouch and Bertha Jorkins, but those weren't always front cover stories. Sometimes it took a few page flips to find anything remotely interesting other than politics and Quidditch scores. He wasn't going to bring this up to Harry now though, no since in riling him up when soon enough they were going to be hearing more about odd happenings in the book than they already were from their own Daily Prophet from this timeline.

Ron and Hermione would likely send him another letter soon, but they were of no more help.

"News like what?" Sirius couldn't stop himself from asking. "Merlin Harry don't you ever just send fun letters to your friends detailing all the times you've tried to kill your cousin."

Harry just rolled his eyes as he found the question obvious and considered the rest all joking, but he was wrong. Sirius wasn't the only one wondering if Harry would ever get anything resembling a normal life which now seemed laughable with Voldemort's return.

Quoting such things in his head about how busy they were, and they couldn't put much in these letters for obvious reasons, but they promised they'd be seeing him soon.

"That would get on anyone's nerves though," Remus sympathized. "Did they have to be so vague?"

"Wonder why you haven't been invited over to the Burrow yet," Lily agreed softly.

Harry just hummed in annoyed agreement, having no idea why he'd feel like correcting his mother he never made a trip to the Burrow this summer.

That was all that was given though, not a single mention of any specific timeline of when Harry would be joining his friends. He'd picked up some hints that his two friends were together, most likely at Ron's place.

"Now that's just hurtful," Sirius gave an exaggerated pout which was worth it when Harry almost cracked a smile at him. Sirius wanted to still be angry, he was certainly still worried, but Harry was starting to look sickly pale again and he didn't want his pup to be remembering whatever was fixing to happen while still thinking everyone was still mad at him.

It tormented him so much to think of the two having the time of their life at the Burrow while he was stuck here, he'd thrown away the chocolates they'd sent him for his birthday unopened.

"Now that was just hurtful, I don't think I've ever been that mad at anyone."

James still sounded off, but he met Harry's eyes so no matter how much hurt and anger was still there, Harry smiled right back.

He'd regretted it later after the wilted salad Aunt Petunia had provided for dinner that night.

Harry's kindling annoyance was certainly muted from what it had been at the age of fifteen, but it was helping that those around him were finally starting to act at least sort of normal again, so Harry tried not to linger too much on the hurt feelings he remembered feeling from his friends.

Just what were his friends so busy with? Why wasn't he busy with them? Hadn't be proved himself capable of handling more than them!

"What does handling situations have to do with anything?" Lily asked in confusion. "They're not taking Ron and Hermione out on Order missions, most likely Molly's keeping them busy with chores."

Harry at first felt a flash of confusion, like he was quite sure his friends did know something of what was going that he still wasn't privy to, but it was at once drowned out by his certainty that his mother was right and his friends were keeping quite busy and not in a way they were enjoying. It was all very strange considering he still couldn't imagine the Burrow coming into play. In answer, he simply shrugged with some chagrin and said, "well when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous, but yeah that's pretty much what was on my mind. They were out there getting told everything while I was stuck-" he finished with a wince, not having any proper way to refer to the Dursleys anymore without watching them all flash with another bout of anger.

Had they forgotten what he'd done, what he'd been forced to see happen to Cedric while he'd been tied to a tombstone?

Lily felt her throat nearly swollen shut. She couldn't stand just sitting here and letting him go through all that! It was killing her not to ask if he'd talked about this with anyone, but she knew he hadn't, he'd said so himself. The only people he'd ever even remotely brought it up with were Ron and Hermione, and that hadn't been the real talk Harry needed, just his friends listening to him chat about what Voldemort could be up to now.

She took one look at Harry's face though and could tell now still wasn't the time to be bringing this up. Harry's face was still lined with tension as he tried to throw covert looks at his father and was still glancing periodically at the door. Clearly whatever they were trying to prove in showing they were trying to move past that moment wasn't fooling him completely, and bringing back up that graveyard moment would only make him feel worse. She wanted her son to feel safe here, not like she was constantly interrogating him, so it was probably best to wait at least until he was at the Burrow and she could trust Hermione to bring it up for her.

Harry at once cut off that train of thought and scolded himself for the hundredth time that summer.

Sirius read all that with such a horrid wince it looked like his face was going to spasm off, but Harry couldn't think of a word of comfort for him or anyone. He couldn't help what his mind dwelled on, and even without the month long time span in between remembering that and where he was now, he could still remembering what it felt like. It was a mercy being here and not being able to constantly relive that moment like his dreams had been trying to do last night, but at least here he had distractions with his family so he couldn't dwell on that. At the Dursley's he'd had nothing.

It was bad enough he kept visiting the place in his nightmares, he did his best not to think on them in his waking moments too.

Green met green as the two shared a look, Harry trying this very hardest to act like this was no big deal. He was failing, and Lily knew full well what she'd woken him from last night with her gentle touch, but she wasn't going to call him out either as clearly he was not going to have this conversation on top of the Dursleys spit out he was expecting very soon.

None of the boys were remotely surprised either, they'd all heard the noise Harry had been making last night and it really wasn't surprising if they thought about it. His recurring memories would of course bring back the dreams he'd be lingering on when he was that age.

He took a sharp turn and just happened to pass the alleyway he'd first laid eyes on his godfather. Sirius' letters had been just as unhelpful, but at least they were filled more with caution and sympathy with such quotes as reminders to keep himself out of trouble, and he understood this was frustrating to Harry but still not to do anything rash.

Sirius had to work hard at it, but finally he got a tragic look strung across his face before looking around at Harry and demanding, "why do you always take the advice I give you like that? That's sound logic with what I know you get up to."

Harry just gave him an exasperated look back, he wasn't going to explain himself twice and he knew he'd had several mental rants about his godfather as well as his friends. Plus, at least he'd started with the nicety that Sirius understood him.

He'd at least been following that advice, or at least, he hadn't strung his broom to his trunk yet and flown off to The Burrow.

"Honestly you deserve a lot of credit for restraining yourself," Remus chuckled, "I know Sirius himself wouldn't have lasted."

Harry gave an absent smile as he tried to visualize it, but all he was finding was an empty house at the end, which made no sense. Of course the Weasley's would be at their home.

Harry honestly found it galling his godfather giving such advice from the same man who'd broken out of prison to come to Hogwarts and then escaped from there on a stolen hippogriff.

James and Remus couldn't help throwing their heads back in surprised laughter while Sirius' smile turned utterly indulgent.

"Well when you put it like that-" he began to agree, when Remus got a hold of himself and spoke over him, "the best part is, that's still not the most wild thing he's ever done. Don't think we've yet told you about the time a Ravenclaw dared him to tie a string up to-"

"You're going to give Harry the wrong impression about me," Sirius cut him off with a wagging finger and a mischievous smirk.

"What impression would that be?" Harry demanded as he laughed along, finally feeling the releasing tension from his shoulders as they all got a laugh again.

"That I was some scoundrel who deserved that detention," Sirius said, making his eyes go wider with innocence. "I'll tell you that one when I know these two idiots won't paint me in a bad light."

"You know that's never going to happen," James muttered loud enough they all heard anyways, but Sirius kept going with a smug smirk.

He'd reached the park now and sat down in one of the remaining swings, his mind still busy with all of these weighing thoughts. Tomorrow he'd have to come up with some new way to listen in on the news.

"You could always try hanging from the gutters," Remus couldn't help but suggest while he rolled his eyes.

"That's not nearly as comfortable or long term helpful," Sirius shook his head, "though I suppose if the telly's loud enough anyways, he could just lay on the roof, I'm sure he's agile enough to get up there."

"Why do we keep your friends around again?" Lily muttered to James as she watched them have a light bicker over the pros and cons of both while Harry watched indulgently.

"You know you love them," was James' only response. He couldn't decide if he wanted them to stop and keep going so that this bleeding chapter would be done with and he'd feel at least a little better talking to Harry again now that he'd cooled down, or keep listening to something so silly as a kind distraction. Harry made the decision for him.

While it was clear he was enjoying the show, and was the least looking forward to this chapter being over as it would only put him back in the spotlight, he still cleared his throat significantly to at least get past the danger they were all feeling because of that cracking noise still having gone unexplained.

He had nothing else to do after all, even his dreams left him restless. If he wasn't revisiting the graveyard and all that had happened there, he was instead traveling long dark corridors ending in locked doors.

Whatever amusement his pseudo uncles had just given Harry vanished at once as Harry shivered violently. He looked more frightened in that moment then he ever had when realizing what Vernon had been doing to him. Even as Harry tried to shake it off though and just tell the others he truly hated being kept there now more than ever, there was something lingering about Sirius reading about that place...

He supposed those had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake.

"Well that makes sense," Lily said fairly to try and get rid of at least one of the worry lines that hadn't gone away in ages now in her son.

"You sound like Trelawney," Sirius told her for the soul purpose of switching her worried eyes to being agitated upon him. "Dreams don't mean nothing."

Lily curled up her lip at him, prepared to give a volley of colorful retorts to that comparison, but Sirius promptly ignored her and smugly went back to reading.

The scar on his forehead prickled from time to time to further randomly agitate him, but he hadn't bothered mentioning this to anyone, knowing they wouldn't find that interesting any more.

"Of course I would!" Sirius spluttered at once, any amusement he'd collected for himself vanishing at once. "It means it's bothering you, and less importantly, I get to know when Voldemort's annoyed by something. That all matters very much to me."

Harry studied him for a moment before simply shrugging. He knew Sirius truly was concerned for his well being, but he still hadn't found the need to write his godfather any more than his friends of the annoying pain, it would only make his letters even more repetitious and not even remotely helpful as far as he'd been aware.

He already knew the response he'd get, that it was just going to happen more frequently because Voldemort was back, nothing to worry about, old news.

"You make us comforting you sound so drab," Sirius sighed.

"And I'm confident no one would be telling you that was old news," Lily added on forcefully, she knew no one Harry was sending that information to would just write him off like that.

Remus just winced and chose to say nothing, he couldn't even pretend to say how he'd respond because apparently he didn't exist anymore outside Dumbledore telling Sirius to go find his useless arse.

The injustice of it all welled up inside him so that he wanted to yell with fury.

"I'd suggest letting that out then, alone in the park," James told him. "Better than on someone who doesn't deserve it." Or someone who might resume strangling him because Harry raised his voice. He wouldn't put anything past that monster.

Harry got a rather sheepish look about him though, like he was worried that might be exactly what happened.

He'd been the one to tell everyone Voldemort was back! Yet his reward was to lay around Little Whinging for weeks cut off from the rest of the world, forced to listen to useless news surrounded by dead begonias!

Lily winced at the sharp volume Sirius was using while yelling Harry's thoughts, she honestly believed Sirius was venting a bit of his own frustration in there on Harry's part as he more than likely agreed with Harry's plight. Still, Lily tried to keep up a peaceable conversation, "I thought you said those were hydrangea bushes, not begonias."

Harry gave her a strange look as he said, "there's more than one flower in those gardens."

How could Dumbledore have done this to him? How had his friends forgotten about him here? How much longer was Sirius going to tell him to sit around like a good boy? How much longer until he lost the fight with himself and sent a letter to the stupid newspaper telling them Voldemort was back?

"Well that last one at least is doable just to vent," Remus forced a smile that stuck out more than ever with Harry's seemingly never ending supply of frustrated demands. "Even though it'll most likely be chucked in the fireplace, at least you got all that out somehow."

No one responded, Sirius in particular was still pouting down at the pages that his godson was so clearly frustrated with him and yet Sirius thought Harry was in the right this time. What on earth was Sirius doing leaving Harry at that place? It had been made more than clear he hadn't the faintest idea what went on there, but even if he thought Harry was having the time of his life with those Muggles he would have thought he'd be insisting to Dumbledore to at least let Harry come around to Remus' place by now so that Sirius could visit. Or even the Burrow, since Molly and all the Weasley's most likely knew him now. It really was annoying Sirius as much as Harry the longer he thought about this of why Harry was still there.

These thoughts all continued swirling together in his mind leaving him vacant to the rest of the world as dusk fell around him.

James fidgeted hard, his hands tightening around Lily's waist again in fear that was clearly gripping her as well if her small shivers meant anything. Time was clearly passing Harry by and still no attack had come. What in Merlin's beard had that cracking noise been already? It was going to drive them crazy sitting on the edge of their seats not knowing.

The thing to draw him out of his own thoughts was the sound of many approaching, and Harry looked around curiously to spot a gang all heading home, laughing loudly. At the lead was his cousin, Dudley, as massive as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought a change in his physique.

Remus blinked quizzically, cocked his head to one side, then the other, before declaring, "nope, can't picture it. Here I was thinking he'd break that diet and his pants in his next mention."

Harry smirked a bit, but gave no articulate response. He had no clue what had wrought the change in Dudley to physically better himself, but Harry knew he hadn't considered it much more than what damage it could now do to others which was surely fixing to be explained.

As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen,

"The mailbox then," James snorted in disgust.

Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-school Boxing Champion of the Southeast.

"I think Harry should actually be terrified for his life," Sirius blinked spastically at the idea. "Teaching that little hippo to punch with accuracy and more power!"

"I still can't wrap my head around him in any training regime," Remus had an odd expression on his face like he wanted to laugh at the idea," but I suppose the best advice always has been play to your strengths."

James shook his head at both of his friends while still vividly imagining all the spells he'd still love to use on Dudley. It didn't matter he was Harry's age, he couldn't picture anyone raising a fist to his son anymore without seeing red and Dudley was still second on the list.

Harry may no longer have been afraid of Dudley,

"Is it because you can set him on fire with a word?" Sirius asked innocently, "because I heard that can instill some real confidence."

Harry gave an easy laugh as he fell into joshing about Dudley, avoiding mentioning that after surviving Lord Voldemort Dudley was more laughable than a hedge.

but he still didn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for celebration.

"I'm starting to wish you had to take psych evaluations before learning to play in sports like that," Lily muttered bitterly, thinking that even if Harry wasn't his victim anymore, most likely Dudley was still bullying others out there with this new found gift.

Neighborhood children all around were terrified of him -

James scoffed in disgust as he pictured it, and how any complaints would go nowhere and the best thing to do would be to call the Muggle police on that boy if there was any luck. Preferably while Harry was not in the vicinity.

even more than they were of that odd Potter kid whom everyone knew attended a center for criminals.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he remembered that stupid lie, but for some odd reason he had a bad feeling about his real school year to come and how it may be worth going to that center to avoid another attendance at Hogwarts this time.

Harry watched them passing by without taking notice of him, and Harry had to fight back the urge to hail them back.

"That would, certainly be, interesting?" Remus said brokenly, unsure if he was supposed to be laughing as the last time Dudley had bothered Harry he'd run off screaming to his mum about Harry setting a plant on fire, and now he'd be doing this in front of his friends. On the other hand, was testing Dudley really the best idea, as surely he would tell his parents and Harry was already in enough trouble.

Harry had an unfamiliar look on his face, but it was only because of the flashing green eyes that set the look off. Otherwise he was practically the spitting image of James, ready to antagonize someone because they'd ticked him off, to vent some of his frustrations when Lily'd just turned him down again. It was an uncharacteristic look for Harry and really showed just how frustrating his being there really was to him for Harry to be trying to vent in this particular way.

If Dudley's friends saw him here alone, they would without a doubt try to come over and start something with him, leaving Dudley in a hard place. He wouldn't want to lose face in front of them, but he'd be terrified of provoking Harry.

Remus rolled his eyes as he at once noticed Sirius adopting the same look as Harry, ready to rile Harry up in this clear display of fun to him, giving no regards to the consequences of what could happen if this played out. Honestly Dudley did deserve the outcome, but Remus still didn't want Harry to take any of the fall which was most likely to happen at the end of any scenario.

Harry would find it the most fun he'd had in ages to watch Dudley's dilemma, taunting him and watching him be powerless, while if any of his friends did try something Harry could draw his wand on them in a second.

Lily huffed and gave Harry the stank eye for that, he knew quite well that he wasn't going to go cursing any of those boys and none of those Muggles would do any more than laugh at such a real threat to them. She understood he was angry but she could think of five other healthier ways than provoking Dudley and she was not happy to be hearing him entertaining this, but she still couldn't bring herself to scold him for it either. Dudley had done quite a lot of damage to Harry and he deserved just a tiny bit of payback, she just wished he'd think about the consequences more than Dudley squirming.

He'd honestly love the opportunity, to torment the boys who'd made his youth hell.

James couldn't help it though, he laughed just a bit under his breath as he was on Harry's side, his sons wit would be worth whatever fight broke out between those boys.

They didn't see him though, and Harry didn't really draw their attention. He had to fight hard against the impulse, as picking a fight would only get him a risk of expulsion.

Harry clucked his tongue in annoyance at what he considered a wasted opportunity, but then why did he have a sudden surge of confidence he did use magic this night...and it involved Dudley.

They began fading back into the night, and Harry watched them go with disappointment as he thought towards Sirius that he'd done as asked, the exact opposite of what his godfather would have done.

All five of them finally gave a free laugh again, not a breath wasted on saying otherwise.

He did rise to his feet once they were out of sight, and began trailing the noise out of sight. Vernon and Petunia thought the best time for Harry to be home was when Dudley was. Vernon had already threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he was late again.

"The worst part is, I now know you're not kidding," James hissed, a fire rekindling in his eyes at that threat.

Harry fidgeted, but remembering his promise, decided against playing it off this time and weakly offered, "Well, it's better then the cupboard right? Probably because I wouldn't fit in there anymore."

"I think I liked it better when you weren't trying to be funny about this," Lily muttered in disgust.

Harry rewound his path back towards Private Drive, passing the now quiet and dark houses that only had little patches of beams to light his way. He liked Little Whinging best like this, when all the neighbors couldn't glance out the window and start muttering about the 'delinquent.'

Lily still couldn't help but clench her teeth in disgust of all of these people swallowing all of the Dursley's lies so easily. Lily could never imagine seeing such a scrawny little kid like Harry next to pampered Dudley and not questioning it, now he'd practically grown up and never had one single person said a word about such a thing?

Harry came to a stop in the shadows when Dudley's gang was departing from him, all saying their farewells to their friend calling him Big D. Harry waited until they were all out of sight and Dudley was on his own before sprinting after his cousin and calling him in the same name.

"You're just begging for that fight tonight," Remus said with resignation.

"Least he was alone now, and not stupid enough to pull anything," Harry half heartedly defended while stopping the trembling of his hand going for his wand now. Every moment that passed left him more sure than ever something was fixing to happen...to him or Dudley. Maybe they really were going to be attacked tonight.

Dudley turned, but turned back away at once when he recognized who it was.

Harry caught up to him anyways and asked how long he'd been going by Big D?

Dudley just told him to shut it.

"And I was just dying to know the answer to that," Sirius muttered belligerently as he flipped the page viciously, his mind's eye now vividly picturing what Harry was heading back towards, and if that cretin put his hands back near Harry again Sirius was going to have a much harder time stopping Prongs a second time.

Harry ignored this and told that he may find it a cool nickname, but Dudley would always be Ickle Diddykins to Harry.

Lily snorted volatility in surprised laughter which quickly dissolved into giggling while the other boys quickly gave a nice laugh for Harry using up Petunia's pet name like that. They were honestly starting to wonder though if they were being paranoid, if that crack really had been nothing. Harry had been alone for hours, far enough away from that house he really would have been vulnerable if anything was going to happen. They were at least trying to force themselves to relax, Harry wasn't in immediate danger, from the outside world anyways.

Dudley repeated shut it, louder.

Harry reminded he never told his mum to shut it, and then further asked if he could at least use Popkin or Dinky Diddydums?

Sirius never would have believed he could read with such blissful happiness once again, but being able to read this after all the horrid feelings he'd already been feeling on top of yesterday's times made this mild taunting feel euphoric.

Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control.

"I never would have bet he'd have so much self control," James smirked, still picturing that fat little blob sneaking sweets from the fridge when he'd been on his diet.

Harry switched though to a less amusing topic, asking who his victim had been tonight? Had he gone after Mark Evans again?

"Evans eh?" Sirius looked up and around curiously.

Lily just shrugged though, saying, "don't ask me, I told you my maiden name's actually a common one. My dad never mentioned any more family to me though, so I wouldn't think there's an actual relation." Her face went an ugly puce color as she remembered that Harry was only there because Petunia was supposedly all the family Harry had left. If she did have some distant relative out there who was of her blood other than Petunia, she still suspected Harry would have been better off with some stranger she'd never met.

Dudley snarled back that kid had been asking for it, he'd cheeked him.

"Clearly not hard to do," Sirius snorted.

Harry asked if he'd been told he looked like a pig in a wig? Because that wasn't cheek if it was true.

Harry felt a small smile as those around him laughed at his humor, they were clearly trying to force themselves to calm down finally after that disastrous blowout Vernon had caused, which made Harry feel all the more uneasy that the true danger was only just getting started.

Harry was watching with high entertainment at the frustration he was clearly causing Dudley, like he was siphoning off his own and passing it along.

Lily ran her hand through her hair with a sigh, accidentally flicking some into James' mouth, still wishing Harry wouldn't do such a thing but at least semi grateful he was doing something about it. It would be even worse to have no release she supposed, she just wished he wasn't suddenly even unintentionally mimicking his father in his school years like all the boys around her were clearly laughing about.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius,

Sirius couldn't stop a little shiver creeping into his tone for realizing that, though he would have thought that was a good thing, such a random mention of that alley way managed to try and spring all his worrying fears of his time in Azkaban. What a stupid thing to be dwelling on now when those creatures were as far away as could be from his pup.

when Dudley suddenly stopped in the dark where the streetlights couldn't reach them on either side, demanding of Harry he thought he was a real big man carrying that thing?

"Can't even bring himself to say wand," Remus rolled his eyes in disbelief at this walking dung bomb.

Harry grinned again as he told Dudley he wasn't as stupid as he looked, but then if he was he couldn't walk and talk at the same time.

"No need for digging into blond jokes there Harry," Sirius critiqued. "I know you're better than that."

Harry pulled out his wand.

"Was just proving a point," Harry quickly said in defense, throwing his hands up in surrender at once of his mum giving him such a look of exasperation.

Dudley looked sideways at it, reminding Harry at once he wasn't allowed or that freak school of his would expel him.

"And wouldn't that just make every one of your coming holidays," James snapped, honestly finding it a miracle the Dursleys never tried to provoke Harry, to find some way to get him expelled from a place they hated so much.

Harry said back slyly that for all Dudley knew, they'd changed the rules.

Dudley said they hadn't at once, but his tone wasn't so sure.

"For all he knows the crazy school of magic burns it's rule book every few months," Remus snickered.

Harry just laughed, and Dudley snarled back Harry was just too scared to take him on without that thing.

"Well can you blame him," Lily grumbled, "he's twice the size of you."

Harry just shrugged though, he hadn't feared Dudley in a long time by that point, and while he still didn't consider himself much of a physical fighter, he was honestly rather confident by this point he could probably take Dudley on if he stayed out of his range enough and made at least one good blow of his own. He'd just never bothered as it still wouldn't win him anything where he was staying that night.

Harry said back with derision that all Dudley needed to beat up kids was four mates behind him. Asking about that boxing title he was so proud of and how old his opponent had been, single digits?

Even James was well aware they put opponents up in better racquets than that, but it still wasn't a nice thought Dudley could be out doing this to such young kids in his own neighborhood which they all honestly believed.

Dudley snarled back he was their age, twice the size of Harry, and out cold for twenty minutes after Dudley was finished with him.

"Was I supposed to be impressed?" Remus mock yawned.

"Weight isn't everything," Sirius sniffed. "I'm sure Harry's still faster than him and Dudley."

Then going on to say he was going to go straight home and tell his dad that Harry had that thing out-

"Running off a tattletale now," James sneered, still fighting back his own impulse to curse Dudley stupid.

Harry cut him off for being so afraid, but Dudley sneered back that Harry wasn't usually this brave at night.

Harry felt himself shiver just a bit, he had a bad feeling where Dudley was trying to go with that crack.

At first confused, Harry returned that it was night now, that's what people call it when it's all dark.

This time no one could wrangle up much humor for that jab, they all remembered what they'd heard from Harry last night and what Dudley may have been hearing for over a month now. However, if he was really fixing to mock Harry for his nightmares, that kid was in for a serious problem from the lot of them, more than he already was.

Dudley snapped back when Harry was in bed.

Harry still didn't get it, asking what he was supposed to be afraid of, pillows?

Sirius managed a laugh, but he was the only one who did.

Dudley said back triumphantly he'd heard Harry all last night whining in his sleep.

Harry mumbled something as he shifted around uncomfortably, not meeting anyone's eyes. He tried to swallow, to say what he wasn't sure, because he only managed to cough and just gave up, waving Sirius on to get it over with.

He didn't want to, this wasn't going to go well.

Harry tried to deny it, but he could already feel it was pointless even as Dudley mockingly quoted Harry about 'not Cedric!'

"How would he, why-" Lily began sputtering in outrage. As cruel a child as she'd always seen Dudley, she never imagined he'd stoop to taunting Harry about this. He was having nightmares about it for crying out loud, surely some shred of humanity must live in Dudley for him to realize this was the very last thing you should ever taunt someone about! Harry's little jabs had been of no comparison to the cruelty of this! Yet she couldn't string all of that together, and Sirius wasn't going to wait for her to as he spewed it all out.

Harry tried to snap that Dudley was just lying, but it wasn't possible, he couldn't know Cedric's name any other way.

Dudley paid Harry no mind, already moving on to whining for help from Harry's parents and how pathetic Harry had sounded.

That one hurt the worst, and the foulest part was Dudley had no idea what he was really mocking. Harry hadn't once mentioned a thing about his parents to Dudley of all people, but the ghostly images of his parents that night haunted him nearly as much as Cedric.

Dudley's cruel laughter was cut short as Harry finally lost his temper, and drew his wand, right for Dudley's heart.

Sirius finally felt some of the heat rushing his face receding in relief. He couldn't stop what he was forcing himself to spit out, mocking Harry like that even if every part of him knew it was technically another person doing it. He'd rather pull off all of his extremities than really hear someone saying things like that to his pup, and was more than pleased to finally find the part where Harry really pushed back.

Dudley backed into the wall in fear as Harry felt the past fourteen years of hatred pounding through him. What would he give to strike Dudley now, have him crawling home from the worst of jinxes, like sprouting feelers.

James hummed in pleasure at the idea of leaving Dudley transfigured for at least a few days, might teach him a lesson or two.

The two began shouting loudly at each other, Harry demanding that Dudley never speak of this again, while Dudley told Harry to put that thing away!

Remus honesty wondered how long this circular argument could last. Harry had the most anger and power on his side, but he wasn't going to put it past Dudley to strike out in fear here soon and Harry may accidentally curse him just on instinct and get himself into some real trouble with the Ministry again.

It ended when both boys shuddered as if icy water had been dumped on them.

"Did you finally do something?" Sirius demanded eagerly, but when he glanced up and Harry said nothing, instead he noticed his pup growing sickly pale, Sirius thought the answer was yes and he was just realizing how much problems he'd just caused himself. He didn't wait around for Lily or anyone else to berate him for what he'd done, Dudley had deserved it.

Harry suddenly blinked in confusion as he glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything, there was no light. The stars, moon, and streetlamps had vanished.

Then the book was suddenly in fear of falling from his too slick hands, icy chills covering him while sweat broke across his palms. He'd recognize that description anywhere, he kept imagining it happening to him in the coming months of his world going black with that cold. The oddity of it didn't sink in though until beside him Remus spluttered in disgust, "what the devil are those things doing there!"

Nobody answered him, no one had even the faintest idea. All Lily and James could think to do was praise Merlin and all their luck in the world Remus had taught Harry to do that Patronus spell so many years in advance, because whatever anomaly had caused dementors to appear in Little Winging right near Harry, it had saved their son's life.

Harry came to his senses first, a flare of protection raising his head as he saw Sirius' plight and tried to reach around and take the book from him, but that snapped Sirius out of it and he clearly wasn't having it. He held it protectively to his chest and gave Harry as superior a look as he could manage underneath that pale skin, "unless you actually died in this chapter from something as stupid as dementors when I know full well you can handle them, you're keeping your paws off this until it's your turn."

Harry rolled his eyes, deciding to leave Sirius be if he really wanted to unnecessarily prove something to them by reading about those things.

There was no noise, no nothing but a biting cold seeping into their every skin.

For a split second Harry thought he'd done something by accident,

Despite her absolute confidence Prongs was going to make an appearance any moment and keep her son safe, it still didn't stop Lily nibbling at her lip in fear of how long Harry was going to have to suffer hearing her scream again before that time came.

then reasoning caught up with him as his brain reminded no wizard was powerful enough to turn off stars.

Remus couldn't help a particularly hard involuntary shiver for that idea, what he wouldn't give some nights to blot out the moon, but it had never really occurred to him that a price that could be paid for that wish was a soul.

Harry began wildly looking around to find them, but Dudley broke his concentration by demanding to know what Harry was doing to him.

James honestly wished it was Harry doing this to Dudley, at least his son doing some sort of magic on Dudley would have been more laughable and entertaining than watching Sirius stutter this out in fear. He really had no clue why Padfoot was insisting he wanted to read about those creatures that more than likely were the star of his own nightmares now.

Harry tried to get him to shut up as he strained his ears, thinking desperately that they couldn't be here, all the while his brain was warning him he'd see them before they arrived.

The problem was they all knew full well Dudley wasn't going to do a thing Harry told him to, Dudley still thought it was Harry doing this, so they all stayed clenched in fear as something new occurred to them. They hated Dudley for everything he'd ever done to Harry, but they'd never wanted his soul sucked out! Harry could certainly fend them off himself, but would he be able to keep Dudley protected as well? He'd kept a hundred at bay before, surely he wasn't about to witness something so inhuman happening to another person now.

Dudley was not listening to a word as Harry was still telling him to shut up, but then they both fell silent as they heard it. The deep, rattling breath trying to take in more than air.

Sirius was doing an unintentionally good impression of that noise in between drawing breaths to keep going. They really worried he was going to run himself out of oxygen in his strive to force himself to keep reading about the demons he kept fearing were going to ruin his life.

Dudley swore one last time if Harry didn't stop it, he'd hit him!

Harry tried one last time to tell Dudley to shut-WHAM.

Sirius hadn't meant to shout that so loud he made everyone around him jump, but he honestly hadn't been expecting that word either. What on earth hit Harry at a time like this? Surely even Dudley wasn't that stupid!

Something violently collided with the side of Harry's head, and little lights popped across his vision as he hit the ground, his wand skittering away.

James felt a snarl of outrage ripping up his throat, of all the times he'd wanted to inflict physical violence on someone rather than cursing them, this now made number one. Of all the times for that idiotic Muggle to be doing this to his son!

Harry called after Dudley what a moron he was,

"My honest sentiments, really you should have told him much sooner," Remus hissed under his breath as he kept white knuckling his wand.

all while scrambling around on his knees to find his fallen defense.

Dudley was paying none of this a mind as he tried to blunder away, but Harry shouted after him he was heading right for it!

Sirius never would have believed he'd feel so much fear galloping inside of him for Dudley Dursley, but there was no way he could deny it was there now. Sirius had never before wished this fate on anyone, even that wretched Muggle, but the absurd imagery of this happening to a Muggle was at least helping to block out his mind's eye offering up the same image happening to him.

Dudley did not respond, instead his footsteps faltered and Harry felt the chill somehow manage to increase. There was more than one.

Lily could feel the scream building up in her throat, still unable to shake from her mind of Harry passing out around these creatures. He'd grown stronger since then, but even staring at her full grown son she still couldn't erase the fear of what those things once did to him.

Harry howled after his cousin to keep his mouth shut at all costs! Then he kept shuffling frantically across the ground, his fingers grasping at nothing but dirt in frustration before shouting on instinct the spell to light it, lumos.

Five inches from his right hand, his wand tip ignited.

Sirius might have felt bad at breaking off there with such a horrible timing, but his gaping mouth wouldn't shut and he was having problems finding his brain to keep going. It had gone from overdrive to off like a switch.

"That was wandless magic!" Remus collected himself first. "Merlin Harry, even the most advanced wizards struggle to do that under extreme pressure!"

Harry cocked his head to the side as he stared at him, something tickling in the back of his mind as he asked, "can't wands do magic without us though? Act on their own to aid."

"I've never heard of that," James came back to himself enough to say, "but I suppose none of us are wand experts either. You'd be better asking Ollivander such a thing."

Lily just shook her head in exasperation at her boy playing off such a moment and trying to divert it back to his wand like that. He really had no clue the potential he'd just enacted in himself.

None of them were quite over their panic, but that had been a healthy kick to make them realize that Harry was going to be fine! He'd take care of Dudley, though the miscreant only just barely deserved it. Surely Harry would be far more concerned for his cousins well being if something had happened to him, rather than still looking curiously into space puzzling his own question.

Harry did not stop to think, grasping it and taking to his feet in one fluid motion to face the dementor.

Sirius honestly wished he could go back and keep talking about all the insane things Harry could start training to do with this newly discovered skill of his, or even have a bloody chat about cabbages if it would get him to stop thinking about these things for even a second now. The only reason he was forcing himself to keep going instead of the cowardly impulses trying to convince him to give these pages up was that Harry was fine. His own plight was going to be worked through, because Harry would get through this.

He shouted the spell to be rid of the creature, but all that came out was a silvery wisp. The spell hadn't worked right, and it was getting harder every second to concentrate.

James felt as if those own slimy fingers were gripping tightly against his own heart. He couldn't shake the image that Prongs was failing Harry now, of all times! It may have been Harry's magic and panic that was causing him to stumble over this, but he was Harry's guardian, that couldn't be a coincidence!

The laughter began in his head, shrill, high-pitched . . .

Lily had to resist the urge to press her hands over her ears like a child so as not to hear this next part. Her pleading screams mixed with that high cold laughter, James trying to save them with some time that would all fail...

The rancid smell of the dementors breath was filling his brain, slowing any train of thought, he could not think of a single happy thing. The laughter changed to the icy voice of Voldemort as the dementor grasped his neck, the echoed words from his nightmare repeating again for Harry to bow to death.

Then Lily's trembling fingers truly did fly up, to cover her mouth to smother a gasp of fear. Her mind simply wouldn't process past the muddle of shock that she was no longer her son's worst memory, her screams would never haunt him again, and yet was this truly better? There was no such thing as a good worse memory, but somehow, in some twisted way, at least in that one she hadn't just died to save her son only for it all to have gone to waste in Voldemort's return. No, at least the vision Harry would have now was his parents truly being able to rescue their child. It would hold no real comfort to anyone, not even herself, though she had not a clue if the boys were even processing all of this in the same way she was, they were all looking ready to jump to their feat in moments and Sirius was going to keel over from forcing himself to read about this dementor experience replaying such a thing!

Harry was sure his last thought would be he'd never get to see Ron and Hermione again, and like a shot of fresh air their faces flashed across his eyes and he finally shouted Expecto Patronum.

It finally worked properly, as the silver stag ran free.

Sirius actually sagged back into the cushions with relief as finally Harry found his friends faces. He'd be safe now, he'd found his will, now all that was left to worry about was Dudley, still an odd enough concept he kept back those poisonous thoughts trying to cloud his own mind.

It's antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been;

Remus found a laugh somewhere in him that still came out too strained, but he'd never deny he loved that mental imagery.

and before he had a moment to breathe he ran off in search of Dudley, who was curled upon the ground, his arms clamped tight as could go around his face.

Harry blinked in surprise as he wondered if that was instinct, or Dudley had actually been trying to listen to him. He had no clue, wasn't going to ask, and had no doubts he never did ask Dudley about this experience.

The second dementor was over him, prying his arms apart easily, almost lovingly.

Lily felt her nails digging into James' arms still wrapped tight around her waist, that warmth needed now more than ever as she forced away the image of that being Harry again! How many times had a dementor nearly taken his soul? What would he be if not for Remus? She was more grateful than ever when Sirius found his breath back and forced himself to keep going.

The stag had not yet vanished, instead Harry urged his magical guardian to rid this one as well. Once the creature had vanished as well, the lights began to reaper, and the silvery form flickered, then too went out.

The relief flooding the room was nearly visible, none of them had felt any such thing in what felt like years though honestly they'd just started this book. The trauma of what Vernon had physically done to Harry stacked on top of another near death experience all combined into one thing really was too much to process all at once!

Little Whinging came back to life around him as if the dementors had never been here. Harry's reality was slamming back into him just as quickly, his sweat soaked shirt clinging to him, and his mind screaming the question of why they'd been here to begin with.

"I'm still remembering how to breathe properly from you surviving it, haven't quite gotten to the processing of why's yet." James croaked, keeping his head rested on Lily's shoulders and her curled tight into his chest while he kept a steady eye on Harry. No matter how angry he ever was at his son, it would never trump the sheer pleasure of seeing him alive in this room.

Dudley lay curled on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up,

Remus honestly wouldn't believe so, dementors affected Muggles much more physically than even wizards as they had absolutely no magical ability to fight them off. It would be an honest miracle if Dudley was even still awake instead of passed out on the pavement.

but then he heard loud, running footsteps behind him.

Sirius felt like his spine was going to snap in half he suddenly tensed so hard, his mind filling with images of the Death Eater who had sent those dementors there for Harry, and now preparing to finish the job! Only the tiny little print could distract him from such horrid visions that just couldn't be worse than that.

Harry turned back on instinct, raising his wand again, before Mrs. Figg came panting into sight.

"Oh!" Lily felt almost dizzy from too many things happening back to back, and that random muggle appearing like that certainly was just another level of odd.

Harry could understand his mother's suddenly faint look, his own mind was already starting to feel bogged down with shock at so many things happening to him in this one night, and it wasn't over.

He at once tried to tuck his wand back away, but Mrs. Figg shouted at him for being an idiot trying to put that away, there could be more! She was going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!

"Did she really say that?" Harry yelped fiercely, tugging the book away from Sirius who was honestly relieved to have the bleeding thing out of his hands by this point. "You guys mentioned him as a member of the Order before, as well as Mrs. Figg. There's no way that's a coincidence, which means they must be the same people you know as I do. So this means the Order-"

"Don't change the subject Harry." James told him with a far sterner voice than Harry had yet heard. He honestly felt like taking another step back, never having felt so much like a scolded child. "You promised, now is the chapter over?" James couldn't care one lick what the Order was doing in that moment, or anything else in the world for that matter.

He sighed as he closed the book for answer. He still thought them being honestly ridiculous about all this, he found discussing this groups members and what this could potentially mean for plans against Voldemort far more important, but he also recognized there was just no point in delaying this anymore. A promise was a promise.

"Yes, alright, so sometimes they did things like this, but it never, you know-"

James couldn't help but cut off, his temper still getting the better of him. "No, we don't know, and it's high bloody time you told us!" The only thing stopping him from going and throttling Vernon this second, even if his hands wouldn't fit he'd find a way, was the stupid bloody magic keeping them locked in this house!

Instead of feeling outraged, or even making a move to stop them, Harry just sighed miserably. He'd known this day would come, the book wouldn't just keep glossing over everything, but he really didn't want to get into this! It was over and done with, they really couldn't do anything to him now, and what they had done had never been anything awful enough that he had ever considered telling someone, let alone running away. Even what Marge had done back when he was thirteen had hurt him so much deeper than any physical blow Vernon or Petunia could duel out.

Still, glancing around at all of their haggard faces, he decided it was high time they knew anyways. What's done is done, now and then, so him telling his family wasn't going to make anything any better, honestly it was probably going to make it worse, but he told them anyways because he felt like they deserved to know. Sirius and Remus had told him things about their past, honestly it only seemed fair to divulge something so minor to him.

"Okay, yeah, sometimes they did stuff like this. I meant it though, they never left a real bruise! Sometimes he'd cuff me upside the head when I said something he didn't like, Dudley pushed me around a lot, she swung at me with what ever was in her hand because I'd asked to do something she didn't like, just little stuff like that."

Lily had to very carefully bite her tongue for fear of mimicking James and cutting Harry off when he was finally speaking about this, but she still in no way considered any of that little stuff.

"When I got older, they all pushed me around, reaching out and grabbing me, usually by the arm, and dragging me along if I was caught doing something they didn't like, then they'd shove me in the cupboard and yell at me. I think that's what he was doing now, just reaching out and grabbing hold of me, trying to get me to stop doing something he was afraid of. When I was really little and did some accidental magic, it scared Vernon so much sometimes he'd choke me until I went limp and fell down, but it never left a bruise because he never hung on that long. Just enough that I didn't fight him when he threw me in the cupboard. That's another thing, when I got older I realized they were afraid of me." He paused for just a moment with his head cocked to the side, though this revelation was no longer new to him it still seemed to stun him just saying it aloud.

"They wouldn't ever really do anything too bad to me, because they were afraid of my magic, even when I didn't know I had it. So they never would have done anything to bad to me, because they probably thought I could magically retaliate. Besides, even if they had done something worse, I knew it would be pointless to complain about it, because they were always spreading around the rumor that I was an odd and troubled kid that they kept 'out of the kindness of their hearts.' So if the neighbors saw or wondered anything, they put it down to just 'those poor Dursleys having to deal with a criminal in there house.'"

He seemed to find that conclusive enough he'd be happy to move on, but none of them really felt yet like this was just a matter to move on from. Those Dursleys had abused Harry, physically and mentally, and it was their reasoning and lies that had stopped him from telling anyone or anything being done about it.

Voldemort was a ruthless mass murderer who had made it his mission in life to eradicate a large portion of the population, and they were fighting him because what he was doing was wrong. Then he'd turned his sights on the Potters, and he was not going to get away with that, and still this was different. It wasn't possible to hate two singular people like the four of them did, but Vernon and Petunia were going to pay for what they'd done to Harry.

"I'm guessing you never mentioned a word of this to me?" Sirius muttered morosely, unable to kick out the twisting of hatred for himself he was feeling that Harry didn't know him that well. If only he hadn't been so rash in going after that rat that night, if he'd just stuck around and been there for Harry none of this would have happened to his pup.

Harry shook his head vigorously at once, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "I didn't need to know you long to know what a terrible idea that was. You needed to be as far away from me as possible, and you knowing about any of that would have made the opposite happen. You moved into Hogwarts backyard because my scar twinged, what on earth would you have done if I ever mentioned this."

Sirius had to breathe carefully through his nose to not start shouting at Harry about that, it should have been his decision, but still he pressed, "not even Dumbledore though? Come on Harry, McGonagall or someone?"

"Did you?" Harry shot back with a triumphant look, clearly already knowing the answer even before Sirius winced and looked away.

Harry looked around at all of them one more time, putting a pleading note into his voice, "I'm sorry if you felt I was lying by not just saying all that, but I really just didn't think it mattered to know. I hated it there, I love it here, that's what mattered to me, I didn't see the point in making you all angry by mentioning something that was long done."

Any of them could have argued the point with him, it would have been easy to spend hours having an uneasy chat about every little thing those Dursleys had ever done to Harry and then reciprocating with a loving promise it was all going to be okay now, but Harry was a grown man now. They all still couldn't help envisioning this happening to their infant upstairs, but it truly was now his decision how he wanted to handle this. He didn't technically owe them anything.

Harry had kept his promise, and while he took one last hopeful look at his dad and waited for those hazel eyes to brighten when they met, he went back to the book. His dad may even still be mad at him, but at least they were okay now.

HPHPHPHPHP

  *Alright, real talk here folks. I did a lot of thinking over this topic, as it's such a widely debated thing amongst HP fans about what Harry really lived through during his time at the Dursleys. Personally, I think a lot of it gets exaggerated, but I never undermine that they did Harry some real harm. I kept myself to the facts and truths that I knew about, and I may have built this up a bit, but don't take my/ Harry's explanation as one that isn't terrible. What the Dursleys did to Harry was a lot more mental punishment than physical, making sure he felt as unloved as possible, which can do as much damage to you as a beating. Guess I don't really have anything else to say, mostly it turned into a big thing between him and James more so then what the Dursleys actually did, but I hope the build up to this scene was at least kind of worth it.

[emmies-archives]

Control

Kirishima Eijiro X Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You face Kirishima in the sports festival, which leads to you two in realizing a very stupid misunderstanding. Which ends up bringing you two closer than ever. Fluffy at the end.

It was beginning to become ridiculous. An entire month had almost gone by and for some reason, the whole time your close friend had only spoken a handful of words to you. It was almost as if Kirishima was purposefully putting you at a distance. Other than the few times you were forced to work with each other in class, it seemed as though your friendship was stunned to a halt. You had a good idea of why he wasn’t speaking to you. It was a complete one-eighty, you two grew incredibly close in such a short amount of time. You could almost call him your best friend, you two were all but inseparable. He was your partner for every free sparring match during class, he helped you with strength training and you helped him with studying and lessons. The girls teased you about it too, they said it was absolutely adorable. You weren’t an idiot, you could tell you were feeling something for him other than just friendship, but everything came to a sudden end.

His change in attitude started right after the attack on the USJ. You had failed to protect yourself and even ended up severely injured as a result. The villains you were put against in the collapsed zone were strong but Bakugo and Kirishima were able to strike them down without fail, even with you unable to fight. You know Kirishima had witnessed your weakness and probably realized that you would eventually cause him to get hurt if he had to defend you.

The quietness went on for weeks, it wasn’t like you didn’t e talk to Kirishima. But after rushed excuses and him running off every time, you got the hint and stopped trying. Everything seemed the same during the festival too, until your fight against him. You were incredibly excited to fight Kirishima, maybe he could finally see how strong you were and it would go back to normal.

You admired everything about him. How he never let his strength cause him to be cocky, and the way he withstood Bakugo’s harsh words and actions you know you’d never be able to. His friendliness towards everyone showed how he truly cared about. How he strived so hard to become a hero, never letting his dreams be crushed. How the smile never left his face, no matter how hard he was pushed. He truly was a great person all around. You wanted all of it back, your life started to become very dull without his constant positivity. The way your chest ached when you saw him interacting with everyone else motivated you to get his approval.

At the sports festival, you were surprised when he was your opponent. Your match against him didn’t go as well as you hoped. But that didn’t stop you from putting your all into the fight. Kirishima’s specialty was close combat fighting which was, to say the least, your downfall. So far, you had only focused on the long-range effects of your quirk, you had just a few close abilities. Your quirk was light emission, but you had a very hard time controlling it. Your attacks were incredibly fast once fired off, and you had several different long-range attacks.

You were quite certain if you were able to hit Kirishima enough with even mediocre blows you would eventually crack his hard defense. If he was able to get close enough, you only had one defensive technique so far, you called it light cloak. You would send out a constant flow of energy surrounding you like a second skin, it weakened the damage of attacks but that was all.

“You better not go easy on me, Kirishima!” You had warned him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, L/n.” The way your chest warmed when he showed a slight grin just made your desire to win stronger. You didn’t realize how much you had missed him.

It didn’t help you in the end though. Kirishima’s persistence, something you respected, was overwhelming. The match didn’t take long either. It was your fault that your advantage slipped really. You had a very strong will just like Kirishima, and you wanted so badly to win. Your weakness though was your caring nature. There was no way for you to know during the match why every attack you sent towards the boy missed. Kirishima wasn’t dodging, you just couldn’t control it. Frustration had built in your chest at your lack of ability, he didn’t even have his quirk activated. You started to send rapid-fire attacks towards the boy.

“Fight back! Dodge! Do something!!” Kirishima just stood with wide eyes as he watched your feeble attempts at fighting him. It wasn’t right, he needed to fight back. You needed him to show his strength, something you both envied and admired. You yearned to be as strong as him, so you could be seen as great in his eyes. You knew the two of you were pretty close friends, but you didn’t see yourself as worthy of his friendship. What did you have to offer? You had a pretty cool quirk but having almost no control over it when it came to actual sparring and fights was pitiful. All the intense training you pushed yourself through did nothing but fuel your frustration against yourself. Why would someone who had such immaculate control of his power see anything good in you? You desperately wanted to prove yourself wrong and show him how powerful you could be.

“Kirishima, fight back!” Your resolve had broken like a dam, tears welled over your eyes and light shot out in every direction, except Kirishima’s. What was wrong with you? He must’ve seen how pitiful you were and decided to end the embarrassing fight. He ran towards you finally activating his quirk, and you cloaked yourself in light. He started to rush you with relentless blows. There was only one you were happy with after all the training you pushed yourself through. Your physical strength and abilities were incredibly enhanced than they previously were. You had incredible reaction time and were able to dodge very quickly, but with Kirishima’s unstopping strikes you still had a hard time.

You managed to grab his wrist the friction and hardness of his quirk cutting your palm quite a bit. You emitted light from your hand and wrapped it around his arm. You knew this attack would work, you had used it against handfuls of dummies when you were training. You would release an incredible amount of light and concentrate it in one area, it would immediately burn the target leaving whatever part the light touched in immense pain.

It didn’t work. As soon as the light wrapped around his forearm, it disappeared. The strangled scream that erupted from you almost stopped Kirishima right in his tracks. You probably looked feral, tears and now small streams of blood flowed down your face from his blows landing on you. Your lips were pulled back in a snarl out of frustration and you were becoming desperate. You had to win. You had to show Kirishima you were worthy. That you weren’t weak like at the USJ. You didn’t need protection. You would do anything, you just needed him back.

Your thoughts soon came to an end as one final uppercut knocked you out cold and the match ended. What you didn’t see were the tears that spilled down his face when he looked at what he’d done to you, and the sharp ache in his chest at the blood mixing with tears on your face. He didn’t know how bad you were hurting until the match, you had tried so hard to fight him just like you had done against the villains.

You woke with a start, taking in the bright white room. You noticed you were in the infirmary, you realized that meant you lost.

“No!” The shout was involuntary as you shoved your hands to cover your face, you failed. He would never see you as an equal now. There was nothing else you could do, you were weak, pitiful. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were the laughing stock of the audience. You most likely put on a pathetic show, how could you face your classmates? How could you face him? You started to spiral into yourself. Small sobs ripped from your throat and you felt the warmth of tears slipping through the cracks in your fingers. You were so consumed in your thoughts that you didn’t even feel the hands wrap around your wrists, pulling them away from your face.

“L/n!” Your heart jumped for a split second, you knew that voice. You snapped your eyes up meeting Kirishima’s red ones. You were confused, why was he sitting next to your bed? You knew you didn’t wound him during the match, so why did his face look all scrunched up like he was in pain?

“Kirishima?” His hands were still clenched around your wrists and before you knew it, he pulled you into an embrace. It took you a moment but you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him in return. “I- What?”

“Are you okay? Did recovery girl heal you? I’m so sorry that I hurt you L/n, I can’t imagine how much you hate me right now. Oh god, I made it worse, didn’t I? Dammit, I can’t believe it, shit-“ You away from him halting his rambling and causing a frantic look to cross his features, his mouth gaped showing his sharp teeth.

“You made what worse?” Everything kept getting more confusing, you had no idea what he was talking about.

“You’re never going to trust me again. I failed to protect you twice, I ruined everything!” Kirishima put his hands over his face and leaned on the bed, groaning.

“Twice? Kirishima, what is going on?! Just tell me!”

He took his hands away and peeked up, you didn’t look mad so he took it as a good sign. On the inside, though he was still panicking.

“I hurt you L/n, during our match. I know we were supposed to but I roughed you up pretty badly. I understand if you don’t want me to speak to you ever again, especially after how I’ve been acting. I thought I could make it up to you if you won the match, but the look of devastation on your face during it was too much. I stopped thinking, I went too far.”

“No, I wanted you to fight back, I wanted to show you that I was strong enough. I wanted you to give your all so I could prove to you that I’m not weak, not like at USJ. You and Bakugo were so strong and I was just pathetic, it was no different today. I’m a failure.” Tears pricked your eyes again, “I know you probably won't talk to me again, now that you know that I’m too weak to fight alongside you.”

“What the heck, L/n? You serious?” Kirishima blinked and then let out a nervous laugh. “You get hurt at the USJ was my fault. I was in the way, you couldn’t use your quirk correctly. That’s why a villain was able to take advantage of you and you got hurt. Because of me.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you. “That’s why I haven’t been able to talk to you. I couldn’t look you in your eyes knowing I was the reason you got hurt, L/n.”

You couldn’t stop yourself, you deadpanned at Kirishima and laughter bubbled out of you. He looked shocked, to say the least. After all this time that you thought he saw you as weak, he thought you saw him as a nuisance. It was ridiculous, if you had just expressed your feelings towards him in the first place, this huge misunderstanding wouldn’t have happened. “

“Wait,” you began as the laughter settled a bit, “This whole time, you thought it was your fault?! That’s why you didn’t talk to me? Are you an idiot, Kirishima? I thought that you weren’t talking to me because I was weaker than you… Oh my god, we are both dumb.”

“Well yes, but it was kinda my fault.” His face fell, his nervous smile turning into a frown.

You rested your hand on his arm, “Eijiro.” You spoke when he didn’t look up. He met your eyes, his cheeks reddened. “Nothing was your fault.” A small smile formed on his lips, warming your chest. “So, you don’t hate me then?”

“Of course not, F/n!” Your cheeks burned at hearing your given name, matching the color splayed on Eijiro’s features. “I could never, I care too much about you….” He trailed off.

“Now that we both know we don’t hate each other, I think I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to.” Without giving him time to respond you pulled him to you and placed your lips on his. He wasted no time kissing you back, pulling you closer to him wrapping one arm around your lower back and one hand at the nape of your neck. Your hands found their way to his hair and you buried them in his red locks. When you pulled away, you could tell your face was on fire.

“F/n,” Eijiro muttered, pressing his forehead to yours. You smiled at the way your name sounded on his lips. “I really like you.” You just placed a small kiss on his cheek in response. You took in his appearance and somehow just noticed all the scrapes and red marks dusting his exposed skin.

“Eijiro, what the hell happened to you?”

“You’re kidding, Y/n.” You just blinked at him and he just laughed. “This was from you, dummy! Your quirk was pretty powerful up close.” He held up his right arm showing the large burn on it. You couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across your features.

“Yes! I actually hurt you! Finally! I don’t know how I didn’t notice.” Your excitement sent his heart fluttering. You grabbed his arm to look at it pulling it close to you, there was a large deep red burn from his wrist to elbow.

“Ouch! Be careful, it hasn’t been treated yet!”

“Oops. Sorry!” You giggled, at the fact he was smiling too. “It looks like I do have some control over my quirk!”

“Now that we’ve made out- I mean up..” You rolled your eyes at him, “Guess what the first thing we are doing after the festival is?”

“Hmmmm we’re going on a date?” You asked hopefully, linking your hand in his.

“Yes, exactly. It’ll be strength training!” He grinned squeezing your hand, and you groaned. “What? That’s a perfect date!”

You shook your head at him, “Eijiro, no!”

“Eijiro, Yes!” He laughed and pulled you up from the bed. Placing a small kiss on your forehead, making your chest flutter. “Anyway, we should go watch the others compete.”

“You know, I’m kind of glad I lost. Want to know why?” He nodded his head peaking back at you, as he pulled you down the hall to the stands. “Because now you have to face Bakugo, not me!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two took a seat with your classmates. You saw Uraraka smiling at you giving a thumbs up, and you blushed. From somewhere in your classmates there was a whistle which deepened your blush, Eijiro just pulled you closer, laughing. Bakugo just rolled his eyes when he looked at you two sitting so close, mumbling something about shitty hair and lightbulb getting together, and took his seat next to Eijiro. You couldn’t believe you truly stupid the both of you had been this past month, but everything seemed to work out perfectly in the end.

[tiaragqueen]

Benefit Of The Doubt: Chapter 1

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[Edited]

“You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. For you, my babe, I'll give my everything. You will always be always be my queen, and I'll love girl. I'll love you endlessly.” - Obsession [Consoul Trainin]

Unknown [07.30 pm]: This is the first time I’ve seen you wearing a dress, and I can’t say that I’m disappointed.

 Seen.

 Unknown [07.55 pm]: They say that red is a sexy color and they’re right. That color really brings out your beautiful eyes.

 Seen.

 Unknown [08.15 pm]: I’m so glad I have the chance to see what perfection is. It is a shame that I’m unable to see it from up close.

 Seen.

 Unknown [08.43 pm]: Nonetheless, the day shall come when you wear that dress for me only.

 Seen.

 Unknown [11.28 pm]: Those disgusting men were ogling at you. Should I get rid of them all?

 Seen.

 Unknown [11.33 pm]: Smart girl. I’m happy that you told them off. I wonder what other things can those luscious lips do...

 Seen.

 Unknown [12.17 am]: Aw... Did those heels hurt your legs, baby? Poor you. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll buy better ones for you. Just name the brand and I’ll have them delivered straight to your house. It doesn’t matter if they’re expensive.

 Seen.

 Unknown [12.20 am]: Your happiness is more important to me.

 Seen.

 You’d never seen a more hypocritical text in your entire life. Did they think you were happy being stalked like this? Did they think you were flattered by their attention? Did they think you wanted this?

 No, you didn’t. You weren’t some kind of a thirsty attention seeker. But, of course, they were too fucking blind to see the truth.

 Then again, what did you expect from a stalker anyway? It wasn’t as if they would just drop everything and leave you alone like any normal, sane person out there. They were delusional. They thought that by showering you with love and attention, then you would be grateful and thus, increasing their chance of ‘wooing’ you.

 Like hell.

 And how the fuck did they know your address? Sure, you’d never received any type of gift sent here before, but how would you know that they wouldn’t do that sometime in the future?

 Or worse, visiting you in person?

 Well, that would be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, you would see your stalker and possibly recognize them, if you knew them beforehand. It was actually a scary thought, but it was better than having a stranger fell head over heels to you. While you weren’t a true believer in ‘love at first sight’, it wasn’t something so far-fetched in this world. If such a thing didn’t exist, then why would some people write love at first sight stories?

 And on the other hand, you wouldn’t know what they would do once they meet you. To actually breathe in the same air as you. There was always a probability of them kidnapping you, or raping you. Or even both. It would be naïve to consider a more mannered way they would ‘greet’ you since they were most likely mental anyway.

 At least, that was what you thought.

 Sighing, you locked your phone and put it on the nightstand. Maybe you shouldn't have to check those messages in the first place. They were giving you a headache now, and the day hadn’t even started yet.

 You ripped the covers from your bare legs and stumbled into the bathroom. Bleary-eyed, you stopped in front of the mirror to inspect your appearance. It was disheveled and had people see the state you were in, they would be convinced you were an escapee from a mental hospital. [h/c] locks jutted out in every direction, reminiscent to Medusa's hair. Makeup smeared over your tired face, and the fake eyelashes weighed down your already drowsy lids. Your breath was smelly, despite not consuming any alcohol last night. The red halter dress that your friends forced you to wear felt constricting, particularly around the chest area.

 Was it possible to gain weight overnight?

 Shaking your head, you shuffled through your morning routine and took extra care in cleaning the makeup. There were already a few acnes formed on your face, small enough for a powder to hide them well. You weren’t necessarily in the mood to put on another makeup, but you couldn’t risk angering your boss. Sure, he was nice – actually nicer than your last one – yet it didn’t mean you could take advantage of his kindness.

 Taeyeon had warned you, during your first day, that Kim Namjoon was rather strict with the rules. An employee once went home with a beet red face after he fired them in front of their co-workers due to some obscure reason. It might be common in the workplace, but the shame wasn’t something that you’d like to experience for the second time. Suffice to say, you strived to avoid his anger by working as hard as you could. This occupation paid you more than your previous job, and you would be damned to let it go.

 Breakfast didn’t feel very fulfilling despite it being the same menu you had every day; a peanut buttered sandwich and a glass of hot tea. Although you kept forcing yourself to not overthink and just stay in the present, this stalking occurrence had taken a huge space inside your brain. The cheery chirping of the birds outside became white noise to you like millions of questions muffled your hearing. You were beginning to get frustrated because none of them didn’t make any sense nor did they provide an answer.

 Thus, in order to clear your mind, you decided to hail a cab instead. You usually took a train or bus, but today you weren’t too keen on being around people. Their hushed chatters could worsen your already bad mood, therefore a change in scenery might be all you needed.

 A beep shattered the peaceful silence that you desired after reading those intrusive messages. Fishing your phone out of your bag, you turned on the device and found that your senior had texted you.

 Taeyeon [07.15 am]: Don’t forget my shift, okay? :)

 Oh, yes. You forgot about the promise that you’d made to cover her shift because she was feeling under the weather. Why did you agree, anyway?

 Right, because you pitied her. It wasn’t like you could say no to her, either. She’d done a lot for you to make sure you were comfortable with your new job. It would be rude if you reject her plea, not to mention unappreciative.

 Well, had you knew your stalker would strike again, then you would surely decline.

 People were right. You could be too selfless for your own good sometimes.

 You [07.17 am]: Yeah, sure. Don’t forget to drink your medicine and eat lots of healthy food.

 Taeyeon [07.20 am]: Thx! <3 You’re so considerate, I owe ya!

 A small smile graced your once frowning face. Well, maybe being too selfless wasn’t too bad if people could acknowledge and appreciate your assistance. However small it might be. The feeling of being able to help those in need was something indescribable, yet gratifying nonetheless.

 “Morning, [Name]!”

 A tall man, with a baby face that never failed to make you secretly gushed at its cuteness every time you saw him, waved from his desk. Chanyeol was the second senior who immediately befriended you after Taeyeon. His cheerful yet easy-going aura lowered your guard almost instantly, and you were glad that you met someone like him in such a fast-paced environment. It was hard for you to talk to new people, as you usually chose to analyze the surroundings first so you could get a grasp on the do's and don’ts.

 Nodding, you shot him a rather coy smile. “Good morning, Chanyeol-seonbae.”

 The said man grinned, satisfied with the more relaxed honorific. He’d told you that ‘ssi’ made him sound older than he actually was – despite the fact that he was a good few years older than you – and insisted on either dropping it or use a more ‘casual’ term like ‘oppa’. You remembered Taeyeon had slapped him with a folder and suggested ‘seonbae’ instead. Her suggestion was appreciated because a much as you wanted to shorten the emotional distance with him, ‘oppa’ was too lax and... intimate for you to use to a senior. Especially to someone you just met.

 “Where’s Taeyeon?” he asked. Leaning against your desk, Chanyeol watched you put down your bag and turned on the PC.

 “Ill,” you replied as you inserted the password on to the computer. “She texted me two days ago, said that she’s not feeling well. She wanted me to cover her shift.”

 “And…?” He raised a brow and tapped his forearm, waiting for your next response.

 You shrugged nonchalantly. “I agreed, of course.”

 “Aish, you.” Chanyeol reached out to muss your hair, a habit that appeared whenever he was displeased at something you did. However, your fast reflex allowed you to avoid his ‘destroying��� hand. “You’re still new in here, and yet you’re already covering someone’s shift? Talk about workaholic.”

 “It’s just a one-time thing, Seonbae.” You didn’t know whether you were defending your bruised ego or Taeyeon. Most likely both. “And I’m not exactly new, either.”

 “Of course you are! You’ve been here for, like, six months.”

 “That’s still considered long, though…”

 “Nope, unless you’ve worked for a year. Less than that, you’re still a newbie.” He grinned playfully as he leaned forward to pinch your cheeks. “My beloved junior~”

 You rolled your eyes, secretly basking on his brotherly affection. His teasing attitude was what probably you looked forward the most every day. Well, aside from the gossip and newest rumors Taeyeon always managed to get from other employees both inside and outside your department. You liked to listen to those pieces of presumably false information, although you didn’t care enough to dig further.

 “Is that true?” A deep voice inquired, startling you both.

 Chanyeol instinctively bowed to Namjoon while you straightened up. Namjoon dismissed him, muttering an order to return his desk. Chanyeol obeyed without another word and left after giving you one last nod. You returned the gesture and averted your gaze to Namjoon who patiently waited for your reply.

 “Um... What is true, if I may ask?” you asked, unsure of what he’d questioned.

 “About Taeyeon’s absence.”

 “O-oh,” you nodded repeatedly to show your understanding. “Yes, that’s true. I… I can show you the message if you want, Sir.”

 Namjoon lifted a hand to dismiss your offer. “No need. I just want to confirm it myself since she hasn’t texted me yet.”

 Pointy finger drew invisible circles against the grey desk as you subtly avoided his intense stare. “Maybe she forgot. I’m sure she’ll text you… eventually.” you mumbled the last part.

 “I sure hope so,” Namjoon closed his eyes and hummed. It was the kind of sound people made to indicate they were thinking about something, and somehow you had a feeling that it wouldn’t be pleasant. “It won’t be good if she loses her job,” he peered through his eyelashes, trying to gauge your reaction from the rhetorical question. “… Right?”

 You froze, eyes wide. Did you hear it correctly? Or were your ears playing tricks on you? There was no way he would fire Taeyeon just because she forgot to text him, right? Well, you supposed it was understandable. But still, it was just a simple mistake and besides, the clock hadn’t even strike eight yet. There was simply no need for such a drastic measure.

 “Um, uh, I…”

 “I’m kidding.” Namjoon suddenly chuckled. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, unaware of the mischievous grin he donned. “She actually texted me last night.”

 You weren’t sure if you should smile or click your tongue at his – frankly speaking – a cruel joke. However, for the sake of politeness, you chose the former.

 “That’s not why I’m here, to be honest.” He cleared his throat, still silently observing you through his peripheral vision. “I have a lunch meeting this afternoon, and I want you to come with me.”

 It wasn’t a request, nor was it an invitation. It was an order; one that you had to obey as his employee. Still, it didn’t make it sound any less confusing.

 “But… why?”

 “Why what?”

 You frowned, contemplating over the million reasons as to why he would ask you to come with him instead of his personal assistant. Because, what? You were just an ordinary worker. “You have Lee Chaerin-ssi, Sir. So why-?”

 “She’s busy,” he cut you off without batting an eyelash. “Unless you have some objections…?”

 “Oh, no, no. Of course not! I, uh…” you tittered, scratching your hair in both nervousness and confusion. “Of course I’d love to come with you, Sir! I was just, um… making sure there’s no mistake. Yeah, that’s it.”

 Namjoon blinked slowly, face betraying no emotion whatsoever. You hated that kind of expression, because what if he chewed you out due to your hesitation? Thankfully, he smiled before you could fall into another overthinking state.

 “That’s great. I shall come back later.” He reached forward and patted you on the back. “Now, finish your work.”

 You nodded, smiling through your discomfort of having his hand lingered a bit too long behind you. “Yes, Sir.”

[unordinary-analysis]

Episode 141

Sorry it took a week oof. Not even more content, just the usual lol

Honorable mentions:

Neither John nor Sera got a mango boba drink thing and that makes me sad

John looked so innocent this episode wow

John talking about his motivations for becoming joker cleansed my soul

Sometimes i really like that UnOrdinary doesn’t have any romance because it would take away from the amazing plot, but damn. Sera and John this episode…

Didn’t really write a lot on Sera because she’s just been saying the same stuff on repeat for weeks, just none of the other characters are paying attention to her R.I.P.

“I’ll keep fighting back. Just like you! You don’t have to do it alone anymore!” -Sera. Rip out my heart why don’t ya (or more accurately John’s heart)

Darren cleans UP (his hAIR haha)

But on a more important note, how tf are doc and leilah gonna affect the plot. I’m waiting

And yet again, chronological order

Blyke:

    Blyke has really grown on me lemme say.

    In this episode, Blyke is sad, upset, but most of all, he’s deflated. He’s accepted defeat, he knows that he is weak and will always be. This is such a sad thing to read after that episode of him and Arlo talking about the responsibilities of the king. Then, Blyke was worried he wouldn’t be up to the task. Knowing how he felt before, it’s just really hard to read that what he was worried about happened. It’s even worse to know that he tried to believe Arlo who said that he would be able to do the right thing or conquer the problem if he needed to. Even through his fear, Blyke listened to Arlo and because of that he went after Joker. (this [every] paragraph has bad writing but bear with me)

    Recently, Blyke had become one of my favorite characters. I used to kind of get bored whenever he was involved because whatever he was doing was insignificant, but more than that, it had no feeling. We never knew who Blyke was or how he thought in the past. It’s a shame that we’ve been let into most other character’s heads before Blyke’s and it had caused a lot of fans to kind of neglect him or just not acknowledge his character as much as the other’s. That’s understandable though (because like I said, his character wasn’t really expressed till now). Now that we have been let into Blyke’s head, however, we see his ambitions and his personality. While Blyke always came off as that nonchalant, popular jock, with his new insight, we get to see that he is also insecure about his abilities and scared to have a lot of responsibility put onto him. Just like that, he’s become a person.

    Watching Blyke talk to John this episode was really tough for me because of how much he tried. He promised John that he would take Joker down and he promised Arlo that he would be prepared to stay on top, despite his own internal struggle and worries. Him confronting John about what happened and admitting to both John and himself that he was too weak was so powerful. Blyke’s character has always been about power. I don’t mean that he wants in, but every bit of plot he’s been in, he’s only been included because of the ability he possessed, not really his ideas or personality. Him admitting that he is no longer that person, even if it’s only this small admission to John, must be so difficult for his character because everything he’s been raised to be and everything he’s strived to become has been contradicted. This reminds me of what Arlo and Seraphina went through (mostly Sera). Arlo because of the realization (more of a confirmation in Blyke’s case) that he really isn’t untouchable. Mostly Seraphina because of how he takes it. They both grow sad with the realization that they aren’t enough. Though I’m not too sure if I can compare Seraphina’s and Blyke’s situations because of their different natures. Obviously Blyke didn’t lose his powers. I had a point. Where was I going with this…? (idk)

    That last couple of panels though leave me wondering. Blyke thinks, “Damn it! If only I were stronger!” Is he going to try to get stronger? How is he going to do that? Train? Power enhancement drug? (please).

John:

    You can really tell that what John wants isn’t total control over Wellston. He doesn’t want what he had at New Bostin. He doesn’t want the consequences he know it will likely bring. In this episode, John says, “Besides, I’d rather just spend time like this! Away from the other students and away from all the school’s nonsense.” Those aren’t the sentences of an antagonist who enjoys hurting people or the life he lives. John isn’t the stereotypical bad guy. I am very grateful for that. You know, John used to be my favorite character. I would’ve been kind of disappointed if he was written off as this total ass and irredeemable. Because that’s not who is. He’s a guy trying to do his best for everyone. That’s why he has to fight everyone. Doing so will plant doubt into Arlo’s hierarchy and therefore, hopefully create a world safer for low-tiers. Because I really believe that to be John’s motive now. Though he’s really being portrayed as the villain right now, he’s trying to do what he thinks is best and the only way he can achieve that is by fighting, at least for him, a cripple that nobody would listen to if he just tried to solve his problems with words (without revealing himself because that would create more problems). I don’t know. His situation is really complicated and I love that. It’s realistic, creates great storytelling, and leaves room for more development for his character. Thank you and goodnight.

[ikonislife]

Same Moon.

-Bobby x Reader

-Angst, fluff, rekindled relationship, ex to lovers, Bobby’s birthday scenario

-Life torn your love apart but when it once more brings you back to where it had all started, will you and him survive the tumultuous ride?

The soft rustling of leaves being shed into the slight chill of an autumn night paves the way for his lonely footstep pattering down the desolated street. Dirty yellow streetlamp frizzing scaring a few bugs looking for a bit of warmth, blind by their desire to sooth an addiction that no doubt drawing close their demise much faster than the natural cycle of life would. What if that’s all human is, just bugs flying in the night, drawn to things in life that bring pleasure but, in the end, spelling out certain pain. Yet there’s no helping this calling, this, this strange addiction to feel loved even if at the end of a cold lonely night, it brings nothing but searing pain for days to come… And certainly, aching memories for years. As Bobby gazes upon the full moon casting its wisps of silver down upon the city that long forgotten about its wondrous healing light, abandoned for temporary high in the explosion of colorful neon lights and the pollution it brings, he finds himself solemn. It’s the same beautiful bright orb that occupies the sky no matter inkiness or clear blue. No matter the existent of the clouds that shy its beauty away from the world that couldn’t much care less for it has not for its detrimental effects on the tides and, well, that’s a topic he could spend all night speaking on but alas, irrelevant. What is within the realm of all things matter dearly to his heart, this is the same moon as it always had been in his short time on Earth. The same one he first took a breath of that disinfectant filled fresh air of the hospital, of his first kiss, his first fuck… the first time he caught the glimmers in your eyes despite the ass hour of the night across the crowded platform of Shibuya station. 

It was unknown really, why he suddenly felt the need to abandon a game he nearly bested and instead looked up, staring straight ahead at the platform across the metal rails. Bobby didn’t know why this night he had chosen to care about the storyline of someone else. He had learned to be impervious of the strives in the life streams possessed by the thousands other souls existing at the same time in the same space. He had enough on his own plate, why on Earth would he be bother with someone else’s life. Yet that night, he couldn’t help but be curious, to look up, to take a small peek into what was going on across the track, letting himself immerse in this deep philosophical conscious that to every face he sees, a complicated lifetime is attached. Were they also going through the many debacles of life despite the smile on their lips or are they truly happy? He stared into your eyes and saw what he could only described as an out of body experience. Like a ghost floating alongside your small steps and soft hum (he assumed you like to hum in the slow of life, you just seemed like the kind of girl that could carry a tune), Bobby imagined your mundane life playing out, every decision, everything that consequently lead to you standing right within his view. Like morn to any dream, the clicking of the approaching train conceal you away in the rush of the world existing outside of his little bubble. You were gone. He regretted it, in the five minutes he had stared at you like the creep he was, his feet would’ve carried him over the small pass connection the two side and right by your side. Yet instead he stared, like a dumbass, probably scaring you off but that little pout on your lips was too mesmerizing for his logical side to break the spell. When, how, where would he even find you again in this city of millions, not even accounting for the tourists just like himself. Were you also a tourist? Looking for a little break in your daily routine? The image of your (hair color) locks flowing in the gust of wind intensified by the ghastly sound of wheels grinding against metal track haunted his daydream until he could no longer remained still. So, he wandered. Where? A real plan of action was only something of a myth at this point, but Bobby had to do something. He went back to the infamous sea of the Shibuya crossing… Thousands of people passed by nearly every hour, what better place to start. Then it was the station, dozen times it must’ve been that he just stood there in the same spot you had been, hoping to see the familiar pout. What kind of place would a girl like yourself frequent, clothing store? cafe? park? Bobby tried his best but, in the end, his short vacation ended much too quickly, and the thrashing wave of reality wasn’t one he could stop. Yet life has a strange way of sharing a bit of its kindness on those who persevered for exactly 2 months later on a night much like the fateful one, you were humming a strange tune unfamiliar to his ears not even a few feet away. He thought you looked familiar at first, those soft tousles curiously gave him the worst case of nostalgia despite bearing no resemblance at all to any name he had committed to memory. A hot summer night and the wait for the much needed relieved of a delectable ice cream cone lit a fire in his stomach, antsy and not much patient had. He tapped his foot in place, click his tongue, and must’ve sighed about 4 times before you turned his way, soft whispers filled the night. “Not a waiting kind of dude, are you?” “Normally, yes. Tonight, debatable.” He normally hated small talk. What’s the point of them really? Nonsense to fill the dead air and awkward space, no value to anything being said nor is it important enough to commit to memory. Yet whatever grandeur life had in store for him that night made Bobby answered, he felt compelled to reply then only to feel his tongue go numb from the sight of that little pout. “Well quit being a grump. If you were a kid, wouldn’t you want to carefully pick the best flavor of ice cream to enjoy? Let the boy have his moment.” Gesturing at the boy who couldn’t be more than 6, tiptoeing despite having full view of the giant display of colorful treats, you swung your body with all the oomph you could in the small space of the line. Then you paused… So did he. For a moment, he could hear the wheel churning in your brain, eyebrows raised so high as if your senses recognized him just the way he did you. “AAHHH!” You suddenly exclaimed, drawing ire from the few customers behind Bobby. Panic engulfed his body; did you think he was a creep? “You! weird dude stared at me for like a billion years in Japan. You’re even wearing the same outfit!” “oh. Well, it’s a different white shirt if that makes a different… Probably not…” Bobby sighed in defeat, of course, now he was just a creepy person in your eyes. No way in hell now would you give him a chance. “Of course, I saw. I feared for my life for a bit there.” Or maybe not, your smile, much cuter than the pout he had been hung up on for all this time. “I-I have no excuse. I’m sorry.” “Well, at first I thought I was gonna get kidnap and sold off… but then you looked a bit… how do I say this without making it weird.” You mused, and he thought of a puppy hearing the TV for the first time, head tilt, adorable gaze and all. “I’m sure whatever you got in mind will be fine, this whole situation is already weird.” “You looked sort of… like a kid staring at his favorite meal. Goofy, cute even but at the same time sort of desperate.” He stood there staring in awe at the way your laugher chasing away the stickiness of summer, washing the slick layer of sweat right of his smooth tan skin with its freshness. Yet with each passing second, the pout that had plagued his dream slowly flooding back onto the cherry red lips he so desperately trying to ogle at. “Do you just like to stare, or do I look … odd?” “Y-yes” “Yes? What?” The way your eyes widen in panic was too much for him to handle, and it nearly, nearly made him lost track of the fact that he had just accidentally insulted you. “NO! NO! I mean…Yes, but not like that.” “Huh? Wait so do I look weird or not?” A long-winded sigh ripping away from his chapped lips, bunny teeth mauling at the frayed skin with all the viciousness of frustration rising high. “I’m not very good at this if, if you haven’t figured it out by now.” “I kind of got the hint.” You spoke so gently, almost teasing, which under any other circumstances he’d have flipped. Yet at the moment he was glad it was amusing you in some way that Bobby was such a flustering mess. Just the fact that his total embarrassment of a creep could serve to lighten your mood in turn put him at ease. “You’re, you’re fine. I’m a mess.” Shuffling awkwardly, Bobby was now one person closer to the sweet taste of a refreshing cone of ice cream, but he no longer cared. “I’m Bobby. Can I buy your ice cream to apologize?” Who would think a piece of memory so fresh in his mind was one of nearly 10 years ago… 10 wonderful years of joy and heartbreak, of memories warming to the heart yet simultaneously searing every bit of his skin with hot pain. Time with you was truly a journey. You both grew so much and matured with each tick of the clock, carving out a little niche of your own in this busy world and although not big, it was nice enough to settled into, for him to see a future with you. He had thought this was it, the relationship to end his life as a bachelor, the one that will seal away his parents worry of him living much too far away for their love to reach, to banish the fear of just how lonely he might be despite that bunny smile and his strange endearing chuckle doing their best to convince them otherwise. In the end it was a fairytale that was too good to be true. He got a taste of heaven, a little piece of paradise and even if life wasn’t always peaches and cream, deep down he always knew it would all be alright for as long as you both got each other. Then the news of your promotion came crashing down like that first raindrop amidst a beautiful sunny day. It was small, unexpected of course, and neither of you really truly grasped the impact to follow that tiny raindrop just as anyone would brush off the chance of rain on a sunny clear day. No one was happier for your success than Bobby knowing just how hard you worked, how much hours you grinded out, and the toll all those late nights took. He too knew what a promotion meant but who was he to put a dampen towel on your joy of reaping the reward from a long awaited and well-deserved climb in the vicious ladder of business. So, he rewarded you the only way he knew how, pampering and spoiling you for days on end… Well, four days to be exact because that was about the only amount of time off either of you could get approved. You were very much happy, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins blinded you from truly understanding what this all meant but Bobby didn’t mind. In fact, he really loved how pure you are with your emotions and everything in life but deep down, just the tiniest part of himself wallows in sadness and resentment. How could you not see the suffering he was going through despite the bright smile plastered across his lips. In no way was his happiness insincere, but at the end of it all, “we” and “us” was soon to be just “you” and “I”. In the end, he just wanted a simple life without the deadline of an imminent ending hanging over his heart. Sneakers squeaking to a stop, the charming awn of the past remained unchanged, adorning still the deep purple petals of the freshly bloomed chocolate vine, rich floral scent teasing at his olfactory drawing out a nostalgic smile. The ice cream shop that hosted so many dates and so many apology incentives continues to flourish despite the wilted relationship you both had left behind. For so long Bobby couldn’t bear stepping foot in the place where every table, every corner prick at a wound in his heart… Now, the tick of the clock had reduced the pain down to a bare tickle, as if finger pressing on an old bruise.  The old bell ringing out and the cashier whom he does not recognize cheers out a greeting. The sweet scent of cold treats and warmth of waffle cones being freshly made wrapping his rough body in its comforting embrace, the feeling he once felt every night but now only on the rare Sunday when Bobby is much too exhausted to leave the bed; So he let himself curls up in the now unnecessary giant blanket, toasting away under the risen sun. Browsing back and forth, Bobby lets his eyes feast on the colorful array of sweet, noting the many addition of flavors and for reason unknown, he prays your favorite remained. Another good minute before his eyes settle on the gentle pink blush hiding away in the corner, no longer the center of the attention as it once was but same as always. “Could I get a medium half guava, half triple chocolate please.” He smiles at the very patient worker, thankful she let him have his time and very much missing her giddy, demure smile or the fact that she was piling on much more ice cream than Bobby had paid for. Seat chosen and ice cream snugly within his palm, Bobby settles by a corner with the full view of the entire shop (much to the disappointment of the cute worker once she realized the handsome, yet oblivious customer is completely out of her eyesight). Barely a touch of the ice-cold treat on his tongue and he was reminded of how much he despised this flavor, still despises the pink goop you seemed to never gotten enough of. Mixing in with the chocolate? Good God what had you done with your poor taste buds. However, in the midst of the protest his body was so keen to put up against the strange floral taste of the guava and the rich punches of the decadent chocolate, there you were. Hair just as soft and shiny as always but it had been the gorgeous shade of rose gold you sported after losing to a dare. That retro Star Wars tee, a bit faded, a bit stained, and definitely sporting a few holes but nevertheless a favorite of yours. He wouldn’t misplace it anywhere. Your eyes were kinder, smile a bit brighter, the most radiant he had seen in years. You were the you he had met, the girl he had fell so hard for despite not understanding what had gone off in your head to order such a horrendous combo of ice cream flavors. And perhaps has it not for the lingering after taste of your strange choice of ice cream, Bobby would’ve wave back at the figment of you lingering about the doorway, a grin truly from ear to ear as you wave at him at the speed of light. Bobby sighs a soft smile, dazzling the worker who was unnecessarily sweeping the same spot for the 3rd time. He couldn’t believe it had been a near 8 years since the real non-platonic first date. The nervousness, the butterfly, quite honestly just as rambunctious as ever… or it’s the 5th bite of the mess of brown and pink still chilling his hand with its coldness. No, it got to be you, still vivid in the movie playing for one as Bobby soaks in the comfort you brought to his life. He didn’t believe it, the whole deal of one person could alter his life, change his perspective of the world the way countless romantic movies so dramatically play out. Then you waltzed in and flipped his whole world upside down. From the first moment he laid eyes upon you in the busy station to the miraculous reunion just a few feet away from where he seats now, even till the end, you remained the unpredictable force to be reckon with. As with all things in life, the little movie reel of your very first official date was soon over as the chime of the old bell rings out once more forewarning the incoming of new customers. Bobby shakes his head in disbelief still, how could it have been a full 3 years since he had said his goodbye to your adorable face, watched helplessly as your cheeks rosy and nose flared with the strange sound of your sobbing. The disgusting pool of dusty pink ripples as the clear pearl of lost love disturbing its serene surface reminding Bobby of just where he is. Sniffling and a bit flush, he hopes no one had noticed as he gets up to toss his ticket to memory lane, debating whether or not it’s time for another cup of ice cream, one he will enjoy this time. Without even commanding them to, his feet once more carry him toward the colorful display of ice cream, eyes searching through for potential victims for his second round of self-pity. Yet just as he begins voicing his final choice of dark chocolate orange with extra whipped cream, another voice rings out mere seconds before his. Being the gentleman he is, and also not in much of a mood to argue over who was first, Bobby apologizes without sparing a glance, eyes still keeping a close watch on the pan of delicious dark brown ice cream dotted with a few orange zest as if any second now it could grow legs and run off. “Could I please get a medium half guava, half chocolate please!” Cold sweat breaking and heart feeling much like he had just done a marathon, Bobby paralyzes with hope and fear. That voice… That order… Couldn’t be. “Wow, I’ve never had anyone order this combination before but today, twice in only an hour!” The cheery tone of the worker reminds Bobby that he was very much still in the ice cream shop, and this very much still is reality. “What?” Even with all the confusion plaguing the soft voice, he couldn’t misplace it anywhere… It can’t be. Only then did his eyes abandon his prize of classically complementing flavors for a peek at the owner of the sweet voice that was bringing him back to the past. Has it not for the hand bracing against the cold glass surface, Bobby would’ve drop right onto the floor, right there in front of everyone because he has just seen a ghost. You’re definitely real because he had just heard your interaction with the worker just now yet for reason unknown, his mind couldn’t get itself to process the sight beholding. “Bobb? You alright?” “Y-Yea.” He stutters, feeling stupid for staring, and feeling stupid for his jaws that had just dropped onto the floor because by God, you’re stunning. “Hi.” Stupid, so stupid, after all this time, after all the things left unsaid, all he could mutter was a stupid “hi”. Then again, is there really any right thing to say to the subject of his unresolved love, the woman of his dream, the one that got away, the ending neither of you deserved. And so he did what he does best, stares. He stares at you for what seemed like eternity and the whole world simply melts away into a massive shapeless blob of stars and moons and that wondrous feeling of first love. For a moment it was Shibuya, it was the train station, it was being 18 and knowing nothing of love, it was this exact place 10 years ago once more. For a moment it was all the moments you both shared for the 5 wonderful years he got to be with you and every single second thereafter of lost love, every single second condensed into one big explosion of nostalgia, feeling unresolved, and words unspoken. “Did you order my usual?” Your voice seemingly playful after what felt to him like an eternity gone by twice and suddenly, he wonders, did you feel the same? “Yea… wanted to see if I still hate it.” “Well?” “I still hate it.” Laughter, it has always been one of those things that Bobby swears on his life he’d always remember. He might’ve forgotten that favorite dress of yours or the strange way you eat ssam but the way you laugh, how you seemingly looking as though your head had snapped right off your neck bending backward in laughter. Or how bright your eyes shine even though they crescent away when you heave out a hearty laugh. Well… Bobby was sure he remembers it clearly until now. The sound you make, the way your head tilt back, it was all the same yet so distant, so unfamiliar and that scares him. How could something so simple, as simple as laughter instills so much fear into his heart. You were once the person he could simply call up just because without any reason whatsoever or simply because he was bored and needing human interaction, affection. If anyone in this world had been so unfortunate to know what true loneliness is, they would understand just how significant that is as ridiculous as it sounds… The blessing of having someone at the receiving end of “I’m bored, can we do something” even if that only results limbs entangled on the couch staring at the ceiling. Popularity is a double edge blade, that was a fact Bobby never knew until he met you. Never was he unpopular, charming and in possession of a smile that could melt the roughest heart, he was never alone. Yet there was always something missing, in the blur amidst the high of a rager or that second of quietness after a big laugh was shared, an emptiness drowned his heart in inexplicable sadness. A sorrow he was never quite equipped enough to figure out on his own, one he wallowed in after the music faded and goodbye long said. Nights after restless nights, Bobby thought of the fun he had and just how much of a world different it made only a few hours had gone by as he laid all on his lonesome pondering what it was, he’s missing from his life. He ate dinner alone most night, wake up alone… Well, save for a few mornings he managed to land a quick “date”. As he swallowed hard a cold bite of leftover on a random Thursday night, suddenly, his endless contact list seemed meaningless. That all changed the moment your sunshine liked smile entered his life, shooing away the darkest of thought with its pure intensity. Suddenly there was someone on the other end of the line at 3AM when his mind needed a philosophical outlet, or even just an ice cream date. You were always there no matter how trivial his request might be, no question asked and never once expressing grievance. You were a shoulder to cry on, a partner in crime, a protector, and a therapist. You were all and so much more but most of all, you were acceptance. No longer did he has to question himself, to hold back, or to be embarrass because of the opinion of others, with you… He’s truly himself. As the sad reminders of a past no longer obtainable slowly breaking down every bit of his facade, there’s one little piece of information that’s undeniably true, unbearably certain and, had been once more reaffirmed in his bleeding heart.   He still loves you desperately. Despite everything that happened, there’s no one else but you. There was no helping the knotting of his stomach and the stuttering that’s unquestionably worse than ever as he stumbles his way through the whole conversation like a bumbling idiot. Although, that in itself isn’t anything strange for he had always been a bumbling idiot whenever you were near, a bumbling idiot mesmerized by your radiant. “Still doing nonsense things I see. When will you learn that guava is not your jam.” “Yea, well maybe your taste in ice cream is just that preposterous. After all this time, I still can’t wrap my head around it. Plus, someone gotta keep buy it or else they’d just get rid of the flavor.” He bites out shyly, only when you had reached for your own cup that he realized the worker had been staring at him for ages. “Oh, sorry, small dark chocolate orange please!” He gave her the brightest smile he could, incentive for wasting so much of her time in the short hour, still completely missing the fact that she would give her life for him to live in the shop. As he stood there rocking back and forth, Bobby glances perhaps not so inconspicuously at the delight spreading through your features as you took the first bite. Sighing contently no doubt in heaven of satisfying the craving of your weird ice cream combination. Although that didn’t stop him from secretly wishing, that contentment was because you were once more by his side. “Are you busy?” You ask casually, as if the both of you were friends, as if you just saw him the week before. “Nope, I’ve been here for like an hour.” He chuckles awkwardly and for a split second, he could see fireworks behind those beautiful eyes as your feature light up in nostalgia. Yet just as fast as it had appeared, the sparks vanish instantly, leaving behind a dark void of reservations. “Ah… Well, I was thinking, if you know, not doing anything…” You stammer on, hand digging a literal pit in your ice cream cup and Bobby thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. Somehow after all these years, after he had given his entire heart to you, you were still nervous around him. “Let’s grab dinner!” He said with utmost excitement before the vibrancy in his voice drones out to something timid, as if fearing crossing the line. “If you’re up for it, of course.”  Always your knight in shining armor, Bobby pulls you from the pit you’ve dug for yourself, leaving you nodding like an idiot. Much to the sadness of the worker, you both wave goodbye as he walks you into the night, leaving behind the ghosts of the past and the happiness of the old times he had held on for as long as he could, doing his best to engrains every little detail to memory. Yet with you right beside him, somehow that seems wrong… And truth be told, that hurts. Even though the walk back to your car a mere 30 seconds, Bobby couldn’t help but hate the silent that was shared between your awkward bodies, hoping that you hate it too. Not that either of you were stranger to silent. It was something inevitable, something of a companion for couples who are lucky enough to share as much time together as you two did. It was the comforting silent of Sunday morning spent cuddling under the blanket, eyes closed yet the both of you were fully aware of the warmth of bodies and soothing rhythm of the rain tickling the windows. It was the content silent shared when you dragged your pillow and blanket into his office, made yourself a bed out of his couch with your nose deep in your book because he had to work late. It was the bitter silent of staring at each other in anger, eyes redden and tears scorching your cheeks, but pride get in the way of giving in. Then it was the silent of regret, silent of wanting nothing more but to dive into each other arms as anger passed and all that was left was your hearts aching to be together once more. This silent, this ridiculously awkward silent of uncertainties, of fearing to cross boundaries, it was something he never felt around you and he hates every damn second of it. “Did you drive by any chance?” You ask and suddenly very aware of the scowl worn on his lips as he stares into the night. A twinge of sadness breaks your heart at the realization that you can no longer be the person to sooth his sadness, calm his anger… And he no longer yours. “No, uh, I took a long walk here.” He replies with a smile, but you know deep down, his soul suffering and regret fills your heart. “We can ride together…” You half suggest, half really just want to know where you stand in his heart or if you even still have a place in his heart. “I tried to go to dinner the other night and, did you know that bbq place we went to so much? It’s gone!” You exclaim in disappointment, flapping your arms about just to ease the tension, although you were sure nothing could. “I was so disappointed.” “They moved a couple months back, we can go if you still want it. I know where they move to.” “Please and thank you.” You put on the best smile for him, already handing over your keys and feel the wind of the past blowing over the empty lot. As you take in a big breath of the slightly cold breeze of the night, you recount the thousand times he had taken the driver seat. Bobby had always looked so good with one hand on the wheel and the other on you, holding your hand or gently placing upon your thigh, it didn’t matter. He’d bobbed his head slowly to the beat vibrating the speakers, looking enticingly handsome focusing on the road ahead. Sometimes there’d be laughter, other times just silent as you did your best to impress your musically inclined boyfriend with your new playlist. He always looks amazing. Not much had changed as you hop into the passenger seat, waiting as Bobby changes the driver seat position before the journey began. The first few minutes felt like hours. The silent between you both were deafening, drowns out even the heavy bass of the song thumping out from the radio. You saw it, the way his right hand near out of sheer instinct reaching toward you, svelte fingers inching closer before the weight of reality settles in. There was no denying that part of you had wished he had let his heart finish what it started, to grab your hand and hold it just as he had for so long. There was no denying also, the depth your heart had dropped realizing Bobby has switches to driving with his right hand, the left leaning against the windowsill, no doubt a precaution for any future accidental touches. Painfully, you reach toward the knob on the radio and turn it a bit louder, filling the confine space with pointless noises. Thankfully the rest of the drive, all 15 excruciating minutes of it went on without a hitch. You resorted to staring out the window and drinking in the familiar sights, Bobby focused on the road before him. Part of you were disappointed that the owners of the restaurant wasn’t there, you’d love to see them and how the time had changed. Yet another part of you, strangely delighted that the long-winded explanation of the who broke up and where things left off were avoided. God knows what kind of ugliness this dinner will dredge up between you and Bobby, no need for someone of your happier past to complicate things. By the way Bobby glances back and forth before settling in with a sigh of perhaps relief, you ponder a guess that he feels the same. “Wow, everything is strangely familiar but at the same time, so different.” You gasp out without much thinking, far too enthrall in the way the menu remained exactly the way you had remembered it. “Yea, strange.” Bobby sighs softly, there was no helping the bitterness pulling his lips into a forced smile. The way his voice echoes out so drab against the exhilaration of the busy restaurant full of smoke and clinking of shot glasses, it was like he had taken a knife to your heart. You lean backward to look for the waiter, purposely hiding the frown playing on your lips at the realization of how incredibly on the nose and insensitive your statement had been. “How’ve you been?” Bobby asked absentmindedly as he tosses a few pieces of meat onto the smoking grill. “As well as can be, I guess…” Your answer catches his attention as the man before you abandon his surveillance of the sizzling meat to steal a glance at your dull features. The way his eyes scrutinizing every bit of your face, no doubt thousands of follow-up questions threatening to spill but he keeps silent, returning his attention back to the seared meat. “You?” “Same old, you know.” “Yea.” The word tumbles from your lips like the worst lie ever told. You and him both know “same old” isn’t exactly the phrase to describe the current state of reality, yet neither really brave enough to open that can of worm. The silent to follow that little exchange was far worse than anything you’ve experienced in this world. Awkward was slowly losing meaning as it treads territory of unpleasantness. As you quietly stuff another wrap into your mouth, you wonder if Bobby regrets this, regrets inviting you to dinner because you sure aren’t. As painful as it was to sit silently beside the man your heart desire and soul craving companionship for years now, you love every second of it. Who knows when would be the next time you’ll have the pleasure of being so close, you could make up the soft scent of his cologne even over the overwhelming stench of alcohol and delectable wisps of grilled-meat. In the end, you found out he had since move from that old apartment you both shared for so long. Make sense honestly, for who could bear being in the place where happiness was slowly turning into ashes. Certainly not you. No longer was he the lowly cubicle dweller but now a supervisor with his own fancy office and fancy car. Talk of work seems to get Bobby going as the faintest trace of a genuine smile graces his lips. You miss this. Honestly couldn’t recall the last time you had a real, honest talk with anyone, let alone someone that could understand you so. You let him onto the big project that had brought you home, and even though it’s only for a few months, you want to make the best time of it. And as that sentence left your lips, you could see it, there just at the tip of his tongue the words Bobby was trying so hard to bite back. You knew he thought of it, thought of rekindling the connection that had been left in the dust between you and him… You knew because you thought of it too. How could this place be the best when he’s not in it and as much as you’d like to be the one to raise the topic, it was best left for him to decide. As the scent of smoke and alcohol engrained into every fiber of your clothes and hair slowly dissipate into the air of the cold night, you found yourself sauntering beside his tall stature. A few steps behind simply because you wanted a few seconds to yourself, a few seconds to really look at the man that was once yours even if it was only the back of his head and the span of his broad shoulders. You both had been walking down memory lanes, a careful dance about the best of memories and the people of the past, avoiding the sour topics of the last few months spent together. “My brother just had a baby!” Bobby exclaims, delight graces his features and you’re left completely mesmerize by the handsome smile, even if it wasn’t really because of you. “Oh, that’s so great! Tell him congratulation, and your parents too. They must be over the moon.” You miss them was what you wanted to end that sentence with but decided in the end it’s best not to. “I will. They are, I am too. Though, I’m still scare of dropping the little one.” He gushes, already pulling his phone out to show you the endless pictures of the little tyke. “So handsome.” You sigh gently, adoring the little baby even if it was just a picture. “Of course, he is! Have you seen his uncle?” a teasing smirk blossoms on those beautiful lips as Bobby wiggles his eyebrows, holding a picture of the little one far too zoom in right next to his own face and for a split second, you have your Bobby. Not the solemn, silent Bobby of the drive to the restaurant, not the shocked and speechless Bobby when he first laid eyes on you. For a split second, he was your Bobby. “Oh, is that so? I think his dad got more to do with him being handsome than his uncle, don’t you think?” You jest with a slap to his arm, something that was once so normal considering you and him, best friends turned lovers. Yet his smile drops, an awkward chuckle replaces the bright sunshine previously beaming from his feature. It hurts, it hurts so bad because this was a reality you thought you had dealt with. Yet nothing prepared you for the raw reaction, the raw pain of the quaint touches that was now anything but. Silent befell over the souls wandering the night under the bare bone of greenery in winter. You listen to the leaves crunching under your feet, pulling your jacket higher as the mischievous tickling of a breeze brushes against your hair. Bobby again a few steps ahead of yourself as he stares longingly at the bright moon above, the same one that had always been there through the thick and thin of your relationship. Still here to witness the strangers-again walking through the night. You wonder if it cried for you, and for your relationship. “Did you ever think about the what-ifs?” Bobby was first to succumb to the pain of silent, yet the perhaps the question he had just asked was far more painful than anything else this failed relationship had brought. “Of course, I have.” The answer rushes from your lips at light speed, nearly in disbelief that there was a part of him that thought you didn’t. “How could I not?” your steps halt as you watch on in incredulity, heart racing and a tear already pricking at the corners of your eyes recalling the days to follow and all the times you wanted to abandon it all to be with him. You know exactly where this was heading but at this point, was there any benefit to holding back the words, suppressing the anguish of love lost? “Hm… I think about it often, ‘bout you.” A solid minute of deafening silent went by before he finally speaks up, stopping on his track too before turning back to face you. He got his hands in his pockets, lips pursing under an undecipherable expression though the pain was far from well hidden. “I still think about everything… I mean, it’s been years but. I can’t help it.” The weight heavy on your heart the moment your eyes skimmed over the destination of your business trip finally exploded, etching and cutting into your scarred heart. The words you wanted to say to him, the words you had forced yourself to push aside in an attempt to live a normal life, it came rushing in the moment you read the name of the city that destiny would lead you back to. The person your heart both desires for and knows would only lead it down the path of relapsing into the mere shell of a person the days following the breakup… it had been heavy and now, it aches. “I thought that suppressing you from my memory would help but it was all the same. I was devastated every waking second, in all my dreams and nightmares.” Bobby muses but there was something far beyond the emptiness of his eyes, glossing over with an emotion you couldn’t decipher and that scares you. It rattles all your cages and there was no helping the ugly thoughts coming. “We both were, Bobby. I mean, you say it as if I wasn’t there… As if I wasn’t the other half of the relationship.” Beneath the sorrow, beneath the pain of the part of your heart you thought was dead resurrected by the man you love, anger simmering. His tone, the words he had chosen… how could he… “Were you?” There was nothing, nothing about the man looming before you that could mirror even a fraction of the emotion surging through your body… Well, nearly nothing. The way his jaws clenching so tightly and the kindness formerly tugging those beautiful eyes into crescents of laughter vanishing at a rate that left your heart dizzy… He’s angry. Anger wasn’t something you knew of Bobby. Frustration, maybe. After all, you weren’t a walk in the park to be with so there were times minor disagreements would surface. Yet anger wasn’t an emotion you knew he could possess, not toward you. He had gotten angry at the guy who was far too handsy with you at his high school reunion, and the time when you ran to him in panic at a club because some creep never learned the meaning of “no”… Never with you. “Are you seriously questioning my feeling right now?” You too were teetering on the blade of anger. “Have you forgotten those nights, those weeks before everything ended?” Your voice raising without needing for you to tell it to, the disbelief in your heart overdrive every other function in your shivering body. Had he in all the years of loneliness forgotten just how much you had loved him… still love him. You’ve considered all the options, not taking the job, passing up the promotion, quitting, switching career, all of it. You considered it all and there was always one ending, the enticing thought of a future with Bobby. You were ready to make peace with your decision but in the end, it was Bobby who had held your hand and told you it was okay. You cried and you fought but ultimately, he was your weakness. He ensured that no guilt would plague you as you made the final decision of leaving. “No, I remember it clearly.” That sentence, Bobby had dreamt about it endlessly, of finally confronting you of your lies… How satisfying it would be to finally have his last laugh… So why, why does it hurt so much now that it had finally took its first breath of reality… Why does it kill him so watching the tears streaming down the rosy skin of your cheeks, the way your features had contorted into anguish? “I remember it because I was the one who told you to leave. I was the one who had to packed up our home and all the memories it held.” The way he bites out “our”, love was definitely not the driving force behind it. “Have you gone mad?” Your words nearly as feeble as the breaths you’re heaving. Neither anger or guilt were present on your face but rather complete and utter disbelief “If you knew all that, then how could you question my pain. I ripped half of me, my entire heart out when I left this place.” And for a second it confuses him, the part, the largest part of him that had loved you so dearly begins to doubt the truth he had held on for so long. “No, not at all. I’m completely sane and sober” But hell hath no fury like a betrayed man. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe you’re making me spell out every. Single. Thing.” “Please, because I have no clue what you’re even going on about.” Exasperation and disappointment of being question, of having your heart on trial finally reaching an unprecedented height. Hands carding roughly through your wind-blown locks before harshly wiping away the tears falling uncontrollably. A part of Bobby cowers seeing the red rashes scratched onto the smooth skin of your cheeks from the sleeves of your sweater painfully soaking away your tears. He would never wish harm onto you, even if you were the one doing it, especially if you were the one doing it. Needless to say, the protective part of him wants so badly to pull your hand into his, to cradle your cheeks and press healing kisses onto them but this mess, he started this. Yet the irrational side of him have had enough, far past the emotional limit a person could handle. “I ran into your boyfriend. Yea, the guy you said was nothing more than a co-worker.” He sneers and you could feel your blood runs cold. The disdain, the disgust in the dagger like glare burning your skin left your knees weak in the worst way possible. “Can’t believe I bought it. You know, I was actually glad I ran into him at first. Hearing how happy you were with your new job and already, just few months in, you were already on the fast track to a big promotion.” “Bobby…” You whisper his name, hoping it still hold the magic it once did, but the meek reality is far from the distant vibrant memories. “No, no, no. You don’t get to be all puppy dog eyes and pretend like it never happened.” He scoffs at you and perhaps it hurts more than it should have. “And then, so casually, he told me that you two were together, living together in fact.” “No, Bobby. You don’t understand. It’s all a big misunders-“ “No! Big misunderstanding? Falling in love, moving in together, fucking someone else all in the short months span since our breakup. You call that a misunderstanding? Please, Y/n. Am I that much of a joke to you?” He grunted out the painful sentence and it left you breathless, your lungs could barely keep up with the tears let along the bombs he drops on you. There was no other reaction but silently cry as Bobby continues his tirade. “I gave up my happiness, my entire life so you wouldn’t have to. And the big thank I got was you fucking the guy you said was nothing more than a good friend. You must love me so much that you couldn’t wait to let the next guy you see fuck all the memories of me out of your goddamn brain… All the while I was living like a goddamn zombie. All alone, every waking minute, every second of sleep consumed by the thought of you.” Exasperation begins to wear down on Bobby as he pants heavily, eyes still tearing your body apart with years of anger all pent up in his feeble heart. “Was it all a lie? The last few months of our relationship, it was… Wasn’t it? Because if I were to believe, to hold on to the last shred of the you I fell in love with… You wouldn’t forget me in just a mere few months.” You contemplate the next few words very carefully, taking all the moments, all the deceits leading up to this point into consideration. Life had never been fair, but nothing could contest against the spitefulness of the grand scale of things this very second. It had dealt you a hand that you wish surprise was what you’re feeling, but alas, you’ve always knew this was a possibility the second you spun your web of lies. You understand full well the implication Bobby had just brought to light, but there was nothing left to say. “I don’t think my words matter much to you this second.” You breathe through your sob. “Maybe in a few weeks, a few months it will. Or it might never will be…” the thought of never being anything meaningful to Bobby ever again, that was a pain you thought never will you have to experience. But in the end, this big tumultuous ride of a relationship had already thrown everything else at you and the end is nigh. “So, I won’t stand here and make some big excuses because I think I’ve done enough.” That was all you could let out, all the though your brain could form before it shut down in a muddle mess. Your heart aches far worse than all the pain it had ever been through combine and you didn’t know what to do to soothe it. The small glimpses your vision clear enough to allow you to steal a glance at the man you love but just destroyed, Bobby isn’t doing much better. Body dropping onto the cold stone pavement of the path, he got his head cradling in between his arms and silently, his body shakes with tears and the reality that was settling in far too fast. The thought of you cheating on him wasn’t one he wanted to be acquaintance with or even one he had formulated before the run in with your boyfriend. Yet the happiness of knowing you had moved on diminished fast as the logical side of himself began calculating the time and the disbelief of his heart that you would forgotten about him already in the short time apart. Soon the sound of sniffles and painful sobs was nothing more but distant echo of the night as you both settle into the present. This is it for the wonderful friendship, the by-chance love that had bloomed between two young souls doing their best surviving the rush of life together. You stare at him with all the love you still have coursing through your blood and he, at you as if a distant memory he was ready to let go. Nothing was said but the drumming of your headache burst through, drowning out everything in front of you. “I’ll drive you home.” He whispers impassively, eyes blank as he scans the features of your face. Were you always so sad? Have your eyes always been so sunken with pain and your skin so pale? The Bobby of the past still clinging on, caring yet he knows his time was ending. So, for one last time, he’ll care, just for tonight. “You’re in no condition to drive.” “No, I’m okay.” “Y/n, just please. For once, don’t fight me. I don’t care how things ended up between us, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.” You silently shadow the footstep of the man you no longer have the right to smile at. After tonight, you and he will be nothing more but strangers again, just as you were that fateful night at the train station. After tonight, you’ll have to respect his wishes and pretend as if life hadn’t given you the best years anyone could ever hope for. Once more the same moon as all the days before watches over as your life stream splits into two. You wonder if it too, is sad for the tragic love story.

It has been a month since he last saw you, a month since he accused you of the worst things a man could accuse the woman he loves. He crossed all the lines and all the boundaries that night and it left him an empty shell of the man he once was. After all these years, after all the pain had been dealt with, there was still a bit of hope, the last thread of a beautiful relationship connecting his life to yours. Yet in one moment of delirium, he crumbled all the effort of all the years before because he was bitter. It broke his heart, the way pain washed over your beautiful features as the accusation that had torn so many relationships apart left his lips. He left you so speechless, you stood there and took his abuse silently, clutching your heart. In the moment when sleep evaded him, all he could think about was the horrible things he had said and your nearly lifeless body as he dropped you off that night… He has turned into the monster he promised himself to never be. Somehow all the pain seems so much worse tonight as he lays awake in bed, hours away from his birthday, another birthday alone… Truly alone for he had burned all the bridges that could potentially lead him back to you. Eyes studying the world just beyond his little window as his mind drifts to you, Bobby wonders if your project was going well and if you were leaving soon. He had thought of calling you, of course, but how could he after saying such horrendous things without even granting you the small wish of explaining everything. Did you realize that night that his phone’s background was still a picture of you? That thought warms his heart for a second before the logical side of himself butts in, reminding bobby once more that you probably don’t care, not anymore at least since he had taken all the precious time you’ve both had and ripped it all to unsalvageable shreds. Yet perhaps his heart knows best after all as that ringtone, the one he has always associated with sunshine and happiness, like an omen echoing through the darkness of his room. Bobby didn’t believe it at first, staring at it blankly before the third ring reminding him that you could hang up any second now. He scrambles to his feet, hastily picking up the phone and nearly dropping it. “Hello? Y/n?” Bobby huffs out impatiently, needing to hear your voice even if there was a slight chance you had called to yell at him. “Uhm, are you the boyfriend of the owner of this phone?” A gruff male voice spills from the speaker sending fear to his heart. Jaws tighten and fist clenches tightly, he grunts out a rough yes, nevermind the fact that it was a blatant lie. “Could you come pick up your girlfriend. She been here for hours and I don’t think she should drink anymore.” The voice speaks up hesitantly, growing distant as if the guy was glancing away to check something, someone. “I don’t understand, what happened?” Bobby questions, already grabbing his jacket and keys, on his way even though he has no clue where you were. “Your girlfriend, she came in, had a few too many drinks, and would not stop talking about her amazing boyfriend… Well, you, I guess. Then she cried for a bit and said she was going to call her boyfriend but passed out before the line even start ringing.” The bartender explains, sighing a bit, no doubt done with your antic. “If you don’t mind, please come pick her up. I don’t want to send her home on her own. Le Lune, do you need direction?” “No, I know exactly where. Thank you.” If his heart beats any faster, Bobby suspects that his blood vessels would burst. Worries and dreadfulness engulf his body as he speeds through the empty night, anxious to see you, anxious to know you’re okay. His fingers tap frantically as his car tears through the night toward the place that holds his entire life. As he bursts into the nearly empty bar, a few eyes glare his way vexingly, loud slam of the door had disrupted their night cap and meaningless conversations. Bobby glances about, looking for that familiar figure before a young man wave frantically, calling him over. “Bobby, I assume.” Holding up a phone in front of him, the bartender glances up then back at the screen with a satisfying nod of his head. “Picture checks out. Here you go.” He hands back the phone to Bobby, screen still illuminated, and the background, it sends a pang to his heart. It was him, smiling bright, exuding all the happiness of a man at the height of his love. And for a moment, time stood still. He thinks about you going about in your daily life… His face being the first thing you see in the morning and the last thing you see at night. He’s there when you check whether it was time for lunch or time for homecoming. You’ve managed to keep that part of the old life the same despite everything being torn apart and the foundation of your relationship crumbling into nothingness.  But now was no time to be sentimental for a much more pressing issue was at hands. “Yes, we spoke on the phone. Where is she?” His voice frantic, panic wrecking his entire being. He thought there was nothing worse than watching you walk away but this, knowing that you were all alone… There is nothing in his short life thus far that scare him so.   “I left her on the booth over there, didn’t want her to hurt herself falling over the stool.” Sighing a few thanks, Bobby closes up your tab and left a hefty tip to a very delighted bartender before making his way toward the booth in the far end corner where his sleeping beauty awaits. Leaning back against the red velvet plush of the back rest, your eyes tightly shut and hair a bit dishevel but he swears, you were still so beautiful. Blur streaks of mascara smearing down the soft skin of your cheeks, still so redden and hot, your chest rises and falls gently as a soft snore emanating through the near empty bar. The breath he had been holding ever since the voice of the bartender reached his ears finally dislodge itself from his throat at the sight of you so peacefully snoozing away. Bobby sighs heavily as his eyes scan to your bare shoulders, dress far too thin to shield you from the harshness of the world. “Sweetie, let’s go home.” He whispers softly against your temple where he had just placed a thankful kiss. Though he knew that kiss was crossing every lines and boundaries, there was no helping the natural reaction bursting out of the man who for the past hour had been so uncertain of the safety of his love. He’s thankful, so thankful that insomnia had been so gracefully blessing him with another restless night, thankful for the bartender, and thankful for you. In your most drunken stupor, he was still on your mind and that, just that small thought of you still valuing his pathetic self enough to call him up… Well, it eases his heart and soul in ways unimaginable. “Bobby…” You groan sleepily, despite the stench of alcohol seeping through your every pore, there was no denying how adorable the way you mew his name. Fingers rubbing at your drowsy eyes, you peers through the clumpy curtain of the mascara that was now mostly staining your cheeks than shielding your lashes. Blinking a few times, a smile blooms on your lips at the familiar face and endearing scent, your head instinctively nudges closer into the crook of his neck, stealing all the warmth the man got to offer. “Yea… Sweetheart?” He tests the water, considering holding back the pet name that was only ever meant for you. Yet just as everything else had when you’re around, it was near involuntary. “I love you.” You mewl out a softly amidst a small giggle before diving into his arms. “Can we go home?” Now, Bobby knows full well this was nothing but a drunken sleep talk but that sentence, home, it lights his heart on fire. He was always the one that’d get drunk, coming home laughing and diving into your arms. This was something new, something so different that despite everything else that was happening, deep down a blissfulness spreading through his body. Your head lulling gently, falling right into his chest as your soft snores continue to echo through the darken parking lot. He places you gently into the passenger seat, buckling you up before placing yet another kiss to your forehead. The steady pace his heart had regained finally seeing you safe and sound was once more beating erratically as the moonlight, dirtying by a bit of the neon sign of the bar seemingly adding to the ethereal glow of your beauty. Your lips so soft, cherry red and plump enticing his soul to its own perdition. Just as easily as breathing, he could effortlessly steal a kiss this very moment and you wouldn’t even care nor have any knowledge of it the next day. Yet as much as he wanted that, Bobby knows it means nothing and mess up beyond anything he had done up to this point if you don’t kiss him back, if you don’t want him. So, he brushes a bit of hair tickling your nose out of the way before shutting the door and begins the journey back home. So strange the way you feel so familiar, so right in his arms yet the world revolving around you, the very nature of your relationship is anything but that. No longer was he the companionship to your night out nor could he provide the care he once did on the rare occasion you’d drink past the point of clarity. As he gently places you into the comforting embrace of his bed, a twinge of pain thumps at his heart before electrifying through the entirety of his being. If this was the you and him of the past, Bobby would already be changing you into the comfort of your PJ, knowing just how much you despise bra and all that it stands for, nothing worse than sleeping in a bra, you used to say. Gently, though drunk you has the sleep capability of Snorlax, Bobby still took great care to not disturb your sleep as he delicately worked his way to wipe away your makeup, remembering how pimply you’d get after just one night of forgoing makeup removal. Although he never thought there was anything wrong with it, and that you were just as beautiful as ever even with a few new red friends on our cheeks, he hated seeing you pouting especially over something so trivial. But this is now, and this is the you and him of the present… There’s no “us” and there’s nothing to tie your life streams together other than a few good memories and a ocean of pain. As you roll to your side and snugging closer to the overwhelming scent of home and comfort, a tear burns down his cheek. Bobby watches on helpless because he had crossed far too many lines tonight… And no longer did he have the right. So, he did what little he could, brushing your hair gently away before placing a pillow under your head. He wraps you up in a big cocoon of blankets, situating himself beside your peaceful self just for a second, lingering. He wonders how much different life would be had you stay, had he gone after you… Maybe you’d be his wife, maybe you’d be the mother to his child, children even. Or maybe you both weren’t meant to be together and the tough time would tear you both apart regardless of who stayed and who went. There’s so much what-ifs, so many fantasies he wished you both could’ve see the ending of but alas this is the reality you’ve both chosen and there’s nothing else to do but to sleep in the bed you both have made. Pulling over the cold blanket he had just gotten out of the closet, Bobby settles himself into the couch, sleep was no more of a friend than it had been before the trek through the night toward you. Suddenly, even the distant siren beyond his living room window lost its spark as his eyes traverse toward the tightly shut bedroom door. He could see nothing beyond the white wooden door, silent and stoic in the night, hiding you away from his eyes. Yet his heart knows just beyond the threshold, warmth and comfort await, its owner awaits. Thirty minutes then come the full hour, Bobby was still staring at the cold barrier protecting his princess as his mind roams back to the wonderful days of sharing cover and warm breath tickling soft skin. The echo of each tick of the clock louder than the one before, reminding him once more of the present. His body exhausted yet his mind runs at thousand miles an hour, tracing over every single mistake he had made. The whirling of helicopter replaced by the chirping of the early birds, out and about ready for another day. He has been far too lost in the distant world his mind had made up for you and him when the loud honking of a car somewhere across the apartment complex finally break the trance your present had put Bobby in. He forces himself to turn the other way, blanket pulls over his head before his eyes forced shut hoping to find peace in the short rest till morning come. Surely the consequences of his words will greet him as the day break, so for now, he’ll take whatever sleep he can get. The very next moment consciousness graces his present, Bobby had long forgotten about your drunken confession and that he had very much braved the cold of December to rescue his princess from darkness and strangers’ gazes of the bar. Throwing the blanket that was already very much half pooling on the floor, Bobby mutters a cuss for being so careless, having once again falling asleep on the couch in the cold embrace of the mistress of winter. Drowsy and barely stable, he scratches at an invisible itch, carding his fingers through the soft brown locks before stumbling carelessly into the door of his own bedroom. The loud bang of his door swinging wildly into the wall was followed by a sound that sends shiver down his spine, far worse than the frigidity of morning cold air against his bare skin. The softest groan reaches his ears, delicate and cute as if a kitten awakening from her slumber yet instead of adoration, all he could feel was fear. The giant blanket burrito stirring on his bed drowns his being in panic, brain frantically searching for an answer, a clue as to what the hell had happened the night before. One foot than two, Bobby inches closer to the sleepy bundle, muscles flexing, ready to put up a fight to the drowsy bandit. The sight beholding the surprised man was beyond his imagination, far far beyond the fathomable realm of situations his sleepy mind was prepared for. The memories of the night before come flooding back like a broken dam after a long storm, waves thrashing his heart against the rocks of the past. The quaint touches, your love confession, everything rushes back in a matter of second and it left Bobby breathless in all the best way possible. Somehow in between the time he had left you safe and sound in the comfort of his bed and the moment he had clumsily burst through the threshold, you had managed to create a tiny nest for yourself. Bundling around your body is the hoodie he had carelessly tossed onto the ground the night before along, cradling between your cheek and your hand, the sweat-soaked fabric of his t-shirt. It brings peace to his heart knowing that after all this time, you still find comfort in clinging onto him in your drunken state. So many nights he’d toss and turn simply because you too were doing the same, stirring in your sleep, trying your best to maximize the amount of his body you could hoard for your own. He had forgotten how many nights he took for granted, tossing you a bundle of his clothes simply because he could take no longer the exhaustion, pushing you off to your side of the bed. What he’d give to get those nights back now, to cuddle up to your sleepy self and bask in the way you had taken on the scent of his cologne. He stares in awe for a moment, considering waking you yet in light of the alcohol vapor lingering about still, assaulting his nose, Bobby’s sure you’d love nothing more than a few more minutes of snoozing so he left you be. Bobby could count on one hand the amount of time he had braved the kitchen all on his own when you were still a constant in his life. 90% of those times turned out horribly and most definitely ended up with you cleaning up after his mess. Yet that was then, and this is the now of him spending most of his time alone, dining for one. Fast food and eating out sufficed for as long as it could for there’s no replacing the coziness of a homemade meal. So with burnt pots and scarred fingers, Bobby eventually learned to take care of himself even though there’s no comparison to you. A simple soup bubbling away on the stove, he debates with himself on whether or not you still like eggs. God, you must find him insane having a monologue about eggs while burning his fingers checking the sad state of his porridge pot. Deep down, a soft warmth settling in his chest thinking about the simple breakfast coming together… You, sitting beside him at the dining table. And although he knows for certain the conversation had won’t be a pleasant one, there’s no denying the little bit of joy, having a tiny bit of normalcy back into his sad daily life even if it’s just for a one morning. Far too lost amongst the cloud of steam shooing away the frost-bitten skin of his naked torso and the clanking of metal spoon against pan, Bobby misses completely the silent shuffling growing louder. “You really need to invest in a wooden spatula. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to use metal on nonstick surfaces?” Your words so gentle, all the pain of your last meeting evades. In its place nothing but the warmth he was used to, and perhaps a bit of gruff from a hangover. “Oh… Is that why half my pots and pans are useless now? Even butter sticks to it.” Your sudden entrance got the man hopping back out of shock, yet nevertheless, a shy smile already on his lips. “Yea, you should throw those out. Don’t eat the nonstick coating, it could make you sick.” Inching closer, you let the flame of the burners lulling you back to reality with its wonderful warmth, putting color back into your pale cold skin brushed with the cold of early morning. Eyes carefully going over the bubbling pot of hangover soup, sunny side up eggs, and porridge, a smile blooms on your tired lips at his effort. Good to know he was at the least taking care of himself with homemade meals. “that’s quite an impressive spread you got going there.” “I, uh, can’t take credit for the soup. I bought that.” Bobby shares a sheepish smile before rummaging to plate the egg borderlines on overcooked. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to eat so I just kind of made both rice and porridge… Should be done soon. It’s not much but I figure it’ll be easy on your stomach. You should go wash up.” He beams at you, the brightest you’ve seen since the first time you laid eyes on the man at the ice cream shop just a month ago. “Why are you staring at me like that?” “uhm… I don’t exactly have anything here to, uh, wash up.” “Oh! Right. I’ll be back.” Tearing away from the pot one second from boiling over, Bobby nearly tumble over knocking into the couch before running back with a bundle in his arms. “Here, these are the smallest clothes I could find. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in these than…” He eyes the small dress on your body, disheveled and stained from lord knows what yet the simple act of nodding toward your less than pristine choice of clothing soon turns into a walk down memory lane. He traces over every little mole on your skin, the soft curves of your body, down to your delicate fingers. He misses every single detail about you, your laugh, the little dance in the confinement of the passenger seat, your body. Tears brim his eyes as recent past come rushing in, giving him a dose of the lonely reality. “Uhm, here.” “Thank you.” You grab hastily the bundle thrusted into your embrace, not missing the reddening eyes and the silent sniffle. You say nothing more, knowing it’d only add to the sad reality that was you and him, making your way back to the bedroom you thought was only a dream. Any other day and the steaming water washing away the shame of the night before would be something divine, heaven sent. It would mean relief that you had survived another night spent pathetically living precariously through the illusion of the happier past that the bitterness of hard liquor had granted you access to. Yet today, it’s painful, burning every bit of your skin with the reality that you had very much damage the last bit of good remained of the girl he once loved, if there was any good left after the lies you’ve told. Mirror clouded with the lingering steam and vapor of your silent tears, you pull on the clothes barely fitting onto your body, twist and turn to view the outfit hanging loosely. The reflection of yourself in the mirror, blurred, barely visible through the cloud of your regrets. Even through the billows of water vapors and the surprisingly sparkling scent of neroli mingling with bergamot of his body wash, you couldn’t help but let your nose trail on the ghost of Bobby’s scent. You know it was crazy to even try for he had handed you clothes shrouded with the fresh scent of laundry detergent yet there was no helping your hands from bunching up the fabric of the ill-fitted shirt, bringing it close to your nose imagining it was just shed off of his body. Your mind went back to the late nights of digging your face as far into his body as you could, taking in the comforting warmth and soft scent of faint cologne and Bobby. Sorrow overtaking your senses because soon enough, you’d have to leave the safety of this hideout. So just for a few minutes, you let your heart has it moment. Table was set by the time you finished freshen up, Bobby graciously waiting by the table, scrolling through his phone to pass the time. Though the clothes might be small for him, the t-shirt he had given you near hitting knee length and the pair of short barely holding on. The smile he offers was far short of the one you were used to but nevertheless, better than the scowl and pain etching so deep on his features the night everything ended. The meal begins in complete silent despite the friendly small talk and although it was nothing surprising, there’s still a bit of pain lingering for tableside conversation wasn’t something scarce between you two. “I’m really sorry, for bothering you like this.” You say finally, noting the small glances he steals, unable to any longer swallow another bite with the air thicker than tar suffocating all your senses. “I- there’s not enough words to say sorry and thank you for going out of your way to pick me up. I know this wasn’t what you imagined starting your weekend with.” He was the drop of water to quench your thirst, yet you couldn’t imagine the same could be said about you, not after everything that happened. “Y/n, there’s no bother. This is the least I could do after all those years you took care of me.” Was this how it will be? Polite banter and careful dances about the rich history your souls shared for so long? Bobby watches carefully as your dainty fingers pushing your spoon about, rare bites taken he surmises could barely even be qualified as a bite but rather formality to reward his effort. So many question bubbling close, so close to the surface, he could feel them knotting in his throat. Why were you out so late, who were you drinking with, what was your intention behind calling him… He knew your actions were merely alcohol induced yet isn’t it also true that drunkenness only amplifies true intention? “Is something bothering you? Is the food that horrible?” He had to do it, unable to bear the desolation paints so clearly across your features. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m just…” You consider for a second to lie, blame it on the uneasiness of your stomach souring the morning after… But lie isn’t what either of you need, it’s not what Bobby deserve. “I’m so sorry. I really can’t do this.” “Do what?” Panic slowly engulfs his body watching the color leaving your skin, anguish slowly replacing the small smile you had watching him fumbling over the hot soup. “You’re scaring me, Y/n…” “I tried, I really tried to pretend as if this is normal… But I just, I can’t get over the fact that I intruded your life after you had so explicitly expressed your desire to never meet again. This must be so uncomfortable for you.  And I, there isn’t enough sorry I can give for last night, for all the nights before.” Your heart vomits out the guilt pent up and pushed away for a moment of joy pretending as if watching Bobby struggling over breakfast was something normal, just another typical morning in your household. You wanted so badly to hang on to this last piece of happiness with him, to have one last breakfast as a “couple” but alas, guilt was eating you alive even before you realize it was there. “I should go.” No sooner than the last syllable of the sentence left your lips, his hand was already on yours, cradling, squeezing so tightly you could feel the weight on your heart becoming undone. “Don’t… Please. I know I’m despicable, and I’ve accused you of the most horrendous thing… And I’m sorry for that.” His eyes calm, like the grey sky just before a big storm breaking but just beneath the roughness of his voice, panic. You could feel that guilt too was wrecking him apart and it kills you. You’d rather him hate you, never want to again see your face but guilt... Guilt is what keep people from moving on, and that’s not what you want for Bobby. “What you did after we parted, it was none of my business. I know too that heartbreak is much easier dealt with if you have someone to lean on. I crossed far beyond all the lines and I, I’m just so sorry.” “No, your anger was well deserved. I told you lies, that part was true. And I thought for the longest that if you hate me, it’ll be easier for you to move on and be happy. If I can’t provide you with the love and happiness you deserve, then at least someone else can.” How far will you be able to carry your truthfulness, only time can tell. But for now, you’ll do your best to close finally end this chapter of your life and give it the closure it deserved, one that should’ve been written years ago. “That was the sole reason behind everything I’ve done.” “I know you’re not so cruel, and I know in my heart that you wouldn’t forget about me so soon after, just as well as I know you’d never cheat on me… So please, Y/n, end my misery and tell me the truth. I know that night I let anger taken over, but your words matter to me more than you could ever know.” He begs, hands clutching onto yours so tightly, the last line of hope for the drowning man. “When I said it was a misunderstanding, that part was true. I would never cheat on you and rest assure the time we spent together, no matter how shitty, my heart only ever had you in it.” To finally clear up the unspoken thoughts of that night, you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. Bobby too, seems to have felt the same effect as his head hang low, long sigh release the breath he had been holding. “And the matter of whom my heart had belonged to following our breakup, it was you… Still to this day, only you. It was always you and I’m sorry if I’ve made you thought otherwise, for the pain I’ve caused.” “Why? Why would you- How, what about all the things your boyfriend had said?” “There was, still is no one else. It has always been you and I’ve only lied because I thought it’d protect you. Whatever he had told you, it was done under my instruction.” Tears were once more streaming down your cheeks, sullying the bowl of porridge he had worked so hard on. Bobby falls back into his chair, body limp, no strength for anything else for his brain had taken it all to process the revelation falling from your lips. For reason unknown, you thought it now is the best time for another bite of food only to find it choking with sadness, bitter the entire way down. “Why would you do that? Why would you let me believe in a lie that made me saw you in such a disgusting light? Y/n?” He repeated your name like a mantra, frustration, love, anger, nostalgia, it all mixed up in an undecipherable wave drowning Bobby in guilt. The things he said, oh the things he had accused you of, how could he ever repent for his sins. “I came to visit, a month after we ended things… I knew it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t bear not seeing you. It nearly drove me insane not being able to see you, to speak to you daily.” Your head now too hanging low, recalling the days when wounds were fresh and pain so excruciating, you’ve gone numb. You recall too the excitement of finally seeing that handsome smile and feel the familiarity of happiness. “I was stopping by our coffee shop, figured, if I was to show up and ruin your day, might as well bring some caffeine.” You chuckle bitterly at the past, thinking of how shock he would’ve looked if you just show up at his work with coffees in hand just as you used to. “That was when I realized, we needed to move on if we even hope to survive.” “What are you talking about?” Confusion plagues his features and it was rightfully so. This insane misunderstanding had been solely on you. “I saw you with that girl, seemed like a date. I was happy, honestly, seeing you smiling, going out, having fun. So, I left. I thought that was it, you were moving on and so should I. You could imagine how hurt I was, hearing from our friends that you were still so hung up on what happened to us that you were barely living.” Your eyes trail along the sharp lines of his jaws to the soft pout he has on his lips. Bobby got his gaze on you, watching intently with bated breaths and once more his hands found their way to yours. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/n. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” The soft sniffles have grown, echoing, spreading through the dead air of the living room that was warming up by the soft sunlight peeking through the living room’s windows. So opposite of the harsh tone and chiding words of the night just mere month ago, his words ring with the dejection of a desperate man. A man that wants so badly for you to realize that the pain of breakup was no one’s fault. It was a part of life and however unpleasant it might be, it was simply inevitable. After all, there are always only two outcomes when hearts begin to beat as one… And neither of you were favored by the grand scale of life. When silent was what met his protest, Bobby finally gazes upon your frail face, glossy with tears and guilt. He wrapped your cheeks in the protective hold of his hands, thumbs gently ridding of the tear hiding away the rosy of your cheeks.  And as if it was his last lifeline out of the tumultuous sea of heartbreak, he places the most delicate kiss upon your forehead. Bobby wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do but it was what his heart told him to. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. I just needed to deal with pain at my own speed.” “I was hanging on to the image of you, so happy even if it was with someone else and somehow it got me through. Day by day, some days hurt more than others but knowing you were happy, it made my heart content. When I found out you’ve isolated yourself from the rest of the world, I was eaten alive with guilt. Guilt that this all happened because I left… Guilt because I went on living while you were suffering… So, when my friend texted me that he ran into you, I decided to take things into my own hand.” Embolden by the leap he had just taken, you rest your forehead against his, wrapping your own hand around his wrists, fearful still that this is all just another reunion dream your tired mind had conjured up. But that thought was soon banish as Bobby pulls your hands up to his lips and the wings of hundred small kisses flutter against your soft skin, reminding you that he was very much right before you. There are few moments in life that can capture the fleeting nature of life and aside from the moment when you had bid goodbye to your entire life, the very second that text had flashed across your screen was the realest moment in your short days on this Earth. It was so simple, “Hey, I ran into Bobby. He asked about you!”. How could a few sentences, so straightforward, no underlying messages could mess with your heart so much that you felt all the progress you’ve made, all those day coping, surviving this new found loneliness reverting back to the beginning. You contemplated, telling him you were fine, telling him you were miserable, beg for him to take you back… In the end, you asked your dear friend a favor you knew you could never pay back for. A fabricated life in place of the pathetic one you’ve been living. You painted a home with two dogs, a loving business partner, best friend, and lover all in one. Mornings were filled with laughter as you both fought over coffee even though there was more than enough to go around. Nights echoed with the scent of sweat and lingering moans of pleasure as the delectable cloud of a homemade meal wasp around the kitchen, awaiting to be dine. You thought of the future that never was with Bobby as you begged your dear friend to lie for you. “God…” Hands still snuggling yours, Bobby let the weight of his head resting against your knuckles as he mutters soft cusses. He was so wrong, he made you out to be the villain, yet the truth was so far from all the fuck up scenarios he had conjured up in his mind. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. I started this, none of this was your fault. At the time, I really thought it was the best way to get you to move on... I didn’t think about the consequences, that it would backfire. And I don’t think I can ever make up for it.” A heavy sigh left your lips and your heart wishes so desperately for Bobby to place another kiss upon your skin… Perhaps this time he’d settle for one on your quivering, chapped lips. “How about just start being honest with me? Hmm?” He leans in close, dragging your chair effortlessly right beside his. For the first time since the conversation start, you let yourself focus on the starlight sparkling in his eyes. You were so scare, deadly afraid that if you gaze into his eyes, all you could see was emptiness. Oh, how wrong you were because there’s so much light and warmth emanating from them, so beautiful and tender. “I don’t even know if I should be-“ “No, I know what you’re trying to say. Did you really think I’m letting you go a second time? I’ve got you here, even after the spite I’ve thrown at you, you’re still here with me. You must be insane if you think you’re walking away one more time.” Your self-pity drowns out with all the love his heart could give. Hands once more gently encasing your cheek as he shushes away the lingering tears. “There’s no other place you should be but here. Stay with me.” Your heart nearly explodes in light of the words you desperately hope to hear for the longest. You’ve always wonder what would have happened if you had just stay, screw career, screw the world. What would’ve happened if you had let your heart taken control of your body and soul, letting love win? Like the most wonderful Christmas miracle, life, Bobby had offered you a second chance at the life you wish you have, only this time you both have matured and learned so much from heartache. It wasn’t an easy road here, but it felt so much like the first time. You dive into his arms that was more than ready to welcome you back for they had gone on far too long without feeling the your curves under them. Tears was once more falling, but this time Bobby let them fall because he knows it was out of sheer bliss and happiness… Because he too is crying along with you. Neither of you dare move an inch even as awkward and aching as the position of your intertwining bodies currently in. Breakfast long forgotten and hangover was just something so an hour ago, you could only feel the warmth and solace. “I still love you so much.” It feels as though an eternity had passed since you crawled awkwardly into his arms. You shyly confess, ear pressing up against his chest as the sound of his heart vigorously beating calms yours. “I know, you told me last night.” “I did?” A smirk was already blooming on his lips when you found the strength to pull away from his hug. “I’ll be honest, if you hadn’t sleepily professed your love to me… I don’t know if I would’ve offered breakfast. Not because I don’t want you to stay but rather… After that night, I’m just so scare you’d never want to see me again and crossing more boundary was the last thing I ever want.” Gently brushing away a few locks of hair that was obstruction his view of you, Bobby confesses. “But now, I wouldn’t have this morning any other way, with anyone else. You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this.” “Thank you, for waiting.” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, taking in the soft sighs of satisfaction and the gentle sweet words being hum by your loving man. “Why were you out so late last night. I was so scare when I pick up the phone and it wasn’t you on the other end.” Pressing a kiss onto your cheek, Bobby once more has his hand grazing the skin of your face, taking in the way you glow softly under the morning sunlight. He was thanking God that you’re here, in his arm, letting the hotness of your skin under his fingertips shooing away the fear of the night before. “I was so worry, I’m sure I’ve broken every traffic law there is.” “It’s always a bit hard for me around time of our anniversary and, well, your birthday.” You lament the pain the comes twice a year, never fail like an ominous alarm reminding you of your loneliness. “I’ve learned that alcohol numbs the pain…” Your revelation seems to only worsen the concern plaguing the handsome man. “At the very least, it prevented my soul from wandering down the path of self-destruction, wallowing in guilt and the thought of who were celebrating with…” There was no missing the way his eyes dance about as if relearning all the curves of your features and committing to memories all the new freckles and mole you’ve acquired since. Bobby was never shy about eye contact, so it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to really just focus on the way your lashes flutter, still heavy with a bit of tear and sorrow recalling the bitter past. Though soon enough, the reality of just how close you were to him, so close that he could feel your breath hot against his skin, it sinks in fast and he couldn’t stop his eyes from falling onto your lips. He tries, really hard but in the end, no matter which route he took, in the end, his gaze returns to your lips. You too, couldn’t deny the calling for that long-awaited kiss to happen and finally let your heart takes control. You wish you could see his expression as your eyes flutter close, to witness the soft gasp leaving his soul but alas, the soft touches of his lips against yours exceed far beyond anything else. He leans down finally, lips so soft and gentle against the roughness of your own. The first few seconds, neither of you could bear parting way so you both still, taking in the saltiness of leftover tears and the familiar touch that had evaded your lives for so long. Fireworks blossom within your soul, louder and more vibrant with each passing second relishing in the taste of him. But soon that first spark was barely enough to sustain the insatiate hearts desperately trying to sync. Fingers trailing up against the tone muscle of his torso before you let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as his arms fasten around your waist. You’ve waited, wanted this for so long that time no longer a factor in this kiss you’re sharing, deepening so much further as he tilts his head to fully take you in. Pulling away slightly, you nibble on his lower lips lightly before letting the softness of your tongue to sooth the gentle pain. You both kiss for as long as your lungs would allow before parting way, heavy pants, resting in each other arms. “Happy birthday,” You whisper into the small kiss you’ve just placed, unwilling to be apart for so long. “I love you.” “I love you. You’re the best present I could ever hope for.” This was in no way the perfect reunion and quite frankly, there’s still so much more that need to be said, feelings long stored away that need to be dealt with. You’ve spent the first part of your relationship trying to be perfect, to be the couple goal, and to be envy by all your friends. But you know now, no couple is perfect, no love can be without its trials and tribulation. In the end, all you could hope for is to have done the love you have for each other the justice it deserves. You both know in your hearts that the safety and happiness of the other person are what worth the most and that’s all that matter. You have him, and he has you. Life have had its way for far too long and it was time you both, hand in hand, take it by the neck and make it your own. Surely there will be days when life once more gets rough but this time, this time you know with all the certainty in the world that you and he will survive anything. This time, no matter what life throws your way, you’re beyond prepared for all its trickery… Because this time, you have under your belt the experience of a life without each other to remind you both of how fragile this love is. The whisper of a promise to never again leave each other side mingles in the soft giggle of excitement and anticipation. So, as you both let yourselves get lost in the second kiss of your second chance, you hope that the same moon who had for so long watched over your relationship will be there to witness the beginning of your new life with him. You wonder if it is too, proud of the progress you both have made. 

[jaaebear]

vampire!jeno

pairing: lee jeno x reader

set out: bulleted scenario , supernatural

warnings: none

authors note: doing this with @alienjisung aND IM SO EXCITED. HAVE 10 DAYS TO FINISH THIS. LET’S GET ITTT

masterlist

so here we go

ever chosen a class because it’s an easy grade? yeah, you have because you did this semester.

everybody was telling you that dance was an easy A and nobody could fail unless you never went to class. 

and you, you were having trouble with math so you decided ‘let’s take dance! that way if i fail math, i’ll still get an A and keep my score up!’

that was way too enthusiastic 

anywhooo, everybody had failed to mention the infamous duo group project during the semester

and your luck, you were paired up with the smiley boy who strived for the best in dance.

lee jeno

not that you had any problem, you had never spoken to the boy but it was rumors.

he was a boy with the most bright smile in the school but you were told if you didn’t put in enough work in a group assignment, he would end you. 

not that you knew how. 

anyway, it’s halfway through the semester and jeno and you are in the middle part of your written part of the project.

you’re both sitting in the library exchanging small talk about the paper.

flash forward an hour and you are getting ready to leave.

you volunteered to talk home the loose leaflets of paper this week.

putting them in your bag, one slices the length of your finger, creating a small opening 

“y/n- your finger...” jeno’s eyes are trained on your finger, his warm eyes flash a hue of red but it’s gone before you can make sure it’s there. his voice is heavy and you squint your eyes at him.

“It’s fine, just a small cu-” but you’re cut short when jeno grabs your your finger and places it between his lips. 

he’s literally sucking the blood. this is some twilight shit-

and you’re like tf jeno?! but not really. 

“are you a- uh...” you don’t even know what your asking but after watching the whole twilight saga, you think you know a lil something something about vampires

jeno, now, sees no point in hiding his second life  so he just stares at you mumbling a “maybe”

and your brain is like “mAYBE what does MAYBE MEAN”

and when you don’t answer he’s like “i done fucked up man” but instead he asks you “are you gonna run away?”

and you’re like “uh, no... should i?”

and jeno panics so he snaps his head towards you and is like “ no no no”

so you’re like “okay, see you next tuesday?”

and jeno nods, “tuesday.”

so you leave the library in a flash because your mind is SO confused and jeno just sits down in a chair with your blood still on his tongue. and all he can do is mumble “shit.”

so for the next couple of weeks, you and jeno were in the library every tuesday and every tuesday was a repeat of the past week.

“so y/n”

“no jeno, you’re not getting any more of my blood, for gods sake”

“That’s not fair!” he whines

“you know what’s not fair? having the living life sucked out of me”

and then he pouts

AND YOU THINK IT’S THE CUTEST FUCKING THING

so when yall are getting ready to leave, jeno asks “tuesday?’

and for the first time, you’re like “i can’t, i have another project with jiyoung”

and jeno is pISSED

“don’t do it”

and you’re like “mccuse me?” but not really. in reality you’re like “huh”

“don’t do the project”

AND YOU’RE AN INDEPENDENT PERSON WHO GOES “ha, who are you to decide that”

MMMMM GET GIRLFRIEND

and jeno walks towards you frowning “but you’re my tutor, y/n”

“i’m not anyone’s person, cut the bullshit jeno” and now, for the last hour, the tension between you two in unbreakable

when you meet up with jiyoung next week, you’re awfully tired and you don’t know why.

“are you okay, y/n”

“yeah i’m fine jeno-”

“im sorry y/n but i’m not jeno.”

“oh my god i’m so sorry jiyoung.” 

after your hour with jiyoung, you accidentally stumbled into jeno.  

“I’m so sorry...”

“y/n, it’s okay. it’s been weeks since we last worked on the project, do you have time now?” and you nod

you guys sit in an empty classroom, working on the project, laughing and teasing like nothing had changed. 

“y/n i really don’t like you tutoring that guy”

“not this again...”

“i’m being serious y/n! out of everybody just not him!”

“why not?!”

you had walked over to lean across the wall now, not caring to be near jeno but after you said that, he stood up and in a flash, his arms were on either side of your head, closing you in.

“because, you’re mine.”

his eyes flashed a dark red and fear only just started to close in on you.  “no... i’m not?”

it came out as a question. 

jeno’s fingers lifts your chin up towards the roof, him towering over you. “really now?”

“wait what are you doing?”

his lips ghosted over your cheek, then jaw bone, slowly hovering over your neck. 

your nails dig into your thigh, not feeling anything due to fear. you know what he’s doing, or planning to do, when you hear a sharp inhale of air.

“please don’t do this. stop it, jeno, please”

 when each second passes, your knees grow weak, wondering what he’ll do next.

it’s the sharp graze of your neck that snaps you out of whatever dizzy trance you’re in , pushing him away.

“what the fuck jeno?!” the red from his eyes disappear and his body visibly shakes.

“i don’t remember agreeing that you had some vampire claim on me!” 

“no, that’s not it. y/n-!”

“not now jeno. don’t talk to me.”

it’s been days since you’ve last seen jeno so you decided to focus your attention on your project with jiyoung. 

everything’s peachy until jiyoung brings up jeno.

“he’s pretty attached to you y’know?”

“shut up jiyoung, you don’t even know hi-”

then everything come crashing down in realisation 

and jiyoung notices it.

‘whoops it seems like i’ve been exposed”

you try to scout away from jiyoung but he grabs your wrist

“you’re scared. I’m the same as that boy! why are you scared?!”

“because, jiyoung, you’re not that boy.”

you make a move to stand up before being slammed onto the wall behind you, jiyoung’s red eyes coming face to face with you. 

“you know, y/n, i so happened to catch a little smell of your blood once and oh my, it’s infuriating. rare.”

“we all love rare things, now let me go.”

“no can do love.” his hand grasps your jaw, forcing it to one side, letting your neck be explored. shit bitch is gonna die

his mouth nuzzled into your neck, tongue swiping across a patch of skin, giggling against it. you whimper when you feel a sharp graze across your neck and they sink down on your neck, a cold sensation dripping down onto your shirt.

and you try to summon the only person you know. “jeno...”

like magic, jiyoung is ripped away from you, your body dropping to the floor as you look up to see jeno standing there, chest heaving up and down.

“bad timing, jeno, i was just having my fun.” jiyoung smirks towards the boy. 

“don’t touch them!” jeno shouts.

“wow what irony jeno.”

at this jeno’s posture slumps, his eyes wondering towards you. 

it doesn’t stop jeno running towards jiyoung. you covered your eyes, only hearing the sounds of glass breaking and tables and chairs being moved. 

you didn’t uncover your eyes until someone lifted you up carrying you. “are you okay y/n? i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” you learned the voice to be jeno. “it’s okay, i’ve got you.”

when he puts you down, you meet his eyes first the first time today. his eyes travel down towards your neck and you cover it with your hand

jeno looks away, licking his lips. “go home y/n” 

and with that, he speeds away. 

it had been two weeks since that day

jeno didn’t come to school and niether did jiyoung but you didn’t care about him 

one night when you sitting at your desk you noticed a flash across your window

scared, you poked your head outside the window to see a figure sitting on the ledge of your roof

“jeno?!”

“you got time? wanna go somewhere?”

ten minutes later jeno and you are running up the side of a sky scraper builiding.

“lee jeno this is not what i was thinking!”

when you reached the top all you could do i try to breathe, that had hit the wind out of you. “fuck you.”

after a minute or two of no talking, you turn to jeno

“thank you, for saving me.”

“if you really wanted to that me-”

“okay, go for it”

“what? y/n i was asking to drink your blood?!”

“i know”

now jeno is like tf?! this bitch cray

“did that little shit get any of your blood?”

“no jeno, it’s fine.”

“ha, okay, i’ll do the honours of being first”

jeno’s hand rises from his side, brushing your hair from your neck as you move your head so your neck is more exposed

jeno smiles, his hand sliding across your waist as he places a small peck on your shoulder

his hand rises to cup your cheek tenderly, stroking it.

“make sure to tell me if it hurts”

his mouth rests on your neck, waiting for you to nod in reassurance 

you gasp loudly and tighten your hold on jeno’s bicep when he settles his sharp teeth impale your neck but continues when you dont say anything

jeno’s arm tightens around your waist when he tastes the first drop of blood. the action doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you grow dizzy from lack of blood. your breathing increases and it feels like a long time before he moves away

“oh god...” he groans, arching his head back

“shut up!”

he lets out a laugh before settling into a smile, eyes still on you

“what? is there still blood on my neck?”

“no it’s nothing...” 

he leans forward hand returning to cup your cheek

“it’s just...”

he shuts the gap, lips soft on yours, his eyes slowly shut and you do the same, both of your hands lift up, one on his neck and the other resting on your cheek.

when you part, your eyes open slowly to see jeno still close to you, his eyes still closed.

“jeno, next time you do that, make sure you kiss me before almost killing me!”

“wait did you just invite me to do that again?!”

“i mean, there’s always the future”

[obsidianarchives]

Beneath the Surface - Part 3

A Bond in Bloom

Before she knew it, Hermione was in regular correspondence with Blaise Zabini. What started off as a nerve-wracking task became the thing she most looked forward to during her break. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so lonely anymore, not so cut off from the world.

Having grown up solely in the wizarding world, Blaise started off with a lot of questions. What did her parents do? Why would anyone pay good money for someone to stick foreign objects in their mouth? What did Hermione want to be before she found out she was a witch?

Hermione tried to be thorough in answering his questions, and asked more than a few of her own. Blaise started off interested in Muggle Christmas, but when Hermione explained it to him, he sounded slightly disappointed.

I’m just going to be upfront and say that that sounds boring. Sorry.

My mum and I have never really celebrated Christmas. She says she doesn’t need an excuse to buy me things, but I think it’s also because my birthday is only four days before.

Hermione learned that Blaise and his mother hadn’t always been rich. Madam Zabini’s parents had cut her off after she got pregnant at the age of eighteen, and so for the first four years of his life, Blaise’s mother had worked in a shop in Diagon Alley struggling to make ends meet. Some wealthy wizard saw her there one day and was so enraptured by her beauty that he offered to take her and her young son in.

From the tone of the letter, Hermione could tell Blaise hadn’t liked Mr. Fawley, a pure-blood who seemed to have dealings with all kinds of people, some not so legal. At least, when he died, five years after discovering his mother in the shop, he’d had the foresight to look after them, willing his Gringotts vault to her.

I don’t really remember a time when we didn’t have all this, Blaise had written, but my mum often reminds me that it can be taken away. She spoils me, but she also has a very clear vision for my life. I think she worries about our position in part because of our race. She’s always warning me to keep quiet and pay attention to those I surround myself with because our class and pure-blood status only protects us so much. 

She runs in a lot of circles that believe pure-bloods are superior, and I guess I accepted that for a long time. But I don’t understand why proving your worth means you have to hurt and kill others. I don’t think she would ever go that far, but I know at least one of my step-fathers supported the Dark Lord pretty heavily back in the day. I don’t know what she would do if I flat out refused the ideology that has largely kept us safe and comfortable.

It makes me feel like a fraud, acting like I believe in these things because it’s all I’ve known. I don’t know if I can be myself without putting myself and her in danger.

Hermione felt for Blaise and his precarious position, and hoped he was being careful in sending these letters out. But he was nothing if not prudent, and the way he opened himself up made her feel comfortable to do the same. She told him how it felt being Muggle-born, especially with Voldemort back in the open.

I’d lived in this regular, unremarkable world for the first eleven years of my life, she wrote. Strange things would happen to me — like the time I accidentally drowned my mum’s office ficus after worrying overnight that I hadn’t watered it like she asked me to — but everything else was ordinary. And then I get this letter telling me I belong to this fantastical place where amazing things happen. I was so excited to leave my ordinary life for an extraordinary one.

But then Malfoy called me ‘Mudblood’ second year. I didn’t even know what it meant at the time, but I got the tone, understood from the way everyone else reacted that it was bad. I’d come to this wonderful world, only to find the same prejudices as the one I was from, ones that put me in immediate danger. It’s terrifying, but I know I can’t just step aside and let it continue.

She was starting to feel bad for Blaise’s owl Adonis, who would arrive at her window in the morning and then leave again in the afternoon once Hermione finished her letter. She didn’t know where Blaise lived in the country, and worried that the journey would start to take a toll on the owl, so she’d taken to leaving out food and water for him. He would occasionally take a few sips of water, but he refused to touch the owl nuts. At the end of one of her letters, Hermione told Blaise what was happening, and asked what the owl would eat.

The next letter arrived with a package, a small note attached that read Don’t laugh. The package contained Avion Dawdle’s Premium Owl Mix. Hermione poured some in a bowl as she read Blaise’s letter, and put in her response that she had, in fact, laughed.

Blaise had started off telling Hermione that he felt like he didn’t have to pretend with her, and Hermione felt the same of him. In one letter, she found herself writing about something she’d thought of often, but which she hadn’t voiced even to Harry or Ron.

I’ve never liked when people called me ‘The Brightest Witch of Her Age.’ I do work quite hard, and strive to do my best in everything I do, but the title always feels uncomfortable. I don’t do the work for recognition — or at least not in the way others might, for awards or praise. I do it because I’m genuinely interested and want others to feel proud of the work I do.

When people call me that, I wonder if they see me as a real person or just as a human encyclopedia — even sometimes with Harry and Ron, who I know care about my well-being but sometimes fall into the comfort that ‘Hermione will do it or fix it” without thinking about how to do it themselves.

It felt like a release to get the thoughts out, and even more of a relief to have Blaise validate those feelings. In his response, he flat out told her that anyone who only wanted her around for her knowledge didn’t deserve her. Hermione had blushed when reading that, glancing furtively up at Adonis, who blinked at her, looking deeply uninterested.

…

The start of the new term came quickly, and soon Hermione found herself back on the Hogwarts Express in a compartment with Luna Lovegood, listening to her gush about her vacation with her father, where they’d spent the entire time drinking Gurdyroot juice and harvesting blue radishes from their garden.

“They turn orange in the summer, but when they’re blue they’re perfect for drawing out toxins and bad auras,” she said dreamily, “We used them to decorate the house for the New Year.”

Hermione felt cheerful and a little nervous about returning to Hogwarts. She was glad to get back into her routine, to studying for exams and learning more about the fight against Voldemort. But another thought, large and nebulous, loomed in the back of her mind. She tried not to give it space to solidify, but still the sign off of Blaise’s last letter echoed in her mind.

See you at school.

She hadn’t seen him on the train platform, and felt glued to her seat across from Luna. The thought of going to look for him on the train both terrified and excited her, but she had to remind herself why it was a bad idea. He could be in a compartment full of Slytherins, or at the very least was somewhere others might see. She didn’t want other people whispering about their relationship when she wasn’t even sure they had one to begin with. So she stayed put, fighting to keep still.

Luna noticed her fidgeting and offered her a swig of doowindle water, which she said would help “calm the mind and limbs.” Hermione did her best to decline politely, pursing her lips and looking out of the window.

Finally, they made it to Hogwarts, and after a quick dinner on her own — Harry hadn’t arrived at the school by Floo Powder yet — Hermione went up to Gryffindor Tower to prepare for the next day of classes.

After giving a hungover Fat Lady the password, she entered the common room.

“Granger!” a high voice called to her from across the room.

A tiny second year, Liam Redding, hurried over to her, a note in his hand.

“I was told to give you this,” he said.

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her ears, “Thanks.”

She hurried up to her room, grateful that neither Parvati nor Lavender were inside, and ripped open the note. It was written in now-familiar handwriting.

Meet me near the Quidditch pitch?

Excitement and nerves shot through her. She stopped and took a deep breath. This was fine. She could talk to Blaise — she had been for weeks. This was nothing.

There was more than enough time before curfew, so Hermione put on her boots and pulled her winter cloak on over her jumper. Her hair was already tied down into two braids, so she jammed her hat over her head and wrapped the bottom half of her face in a thick purple scarf that had been one of her parents’ Christmas gifts to her.

Snow was falling lightly as she stepped out of the entrance hall and onto the grounds, the lake looked like it was made of gray slush. Wind tried to worm its way through the fabric of her clothes. Hermione shivered and drew her cloak tightly around her before trudging through the snow.

Her stomach flipped when she saw the dark figure up ahead, near the Quidditch stands. As she got closer she saw Blaise’s lanky figure, a scarf tied loosely around his neck, green hat covering his head and ears. He was watching her approach, hands deep in the pockets of his black cloak, teeth playing with his bottom lip. Was he nervous?

“It’s freezing,” Hermione complained as she approached, “Why couldn’t we meet indoors?”

Blaise shrugged, looking up at the gray clouds, “I like the snow.”

Hermione watched his face for a moment, the peace that seemed to come over him, and smiled. A warm feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach.

He looked down at her then, “How are you?”

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, “I’m okay. Ready to get back into classes.”

Blaise nodded. They stood there silently for a moment, and he shifted his weight a bit, so that he was closer to her. His scent, cinnamon and cloves, carried over to her on the wind.

Hermione wracked her brain for something else to say. “How, er, how was your break?”

She cringed internally as she finished the question, realizing that she already knew the answer, having corresponded with Blaise the entire time. She suddenly wondered, in horror, whether they would ever be able to interact in person — was it possible to only have great interactions through paper? She felt like she knew this boy, his innermost thoughts, and he hers. Why was this so anxiety-inducing?

Blaise coughed lightly, raising a gloved hand to scratch his nose. “It was fine.”

As he dropped his hand, Hermione noticed something glitter from his wrist.

“Your watch!” she exclaimed, grabbing his arm without thinking. She hadn’t seen him with it before break, and it looked brand new.

Blaise was startled, but he held his wrist closer so that she could see it, a gold band with a black face, the hands golden snakes with emerald eyes.

“My mum bought it for my birthday,” he said, “since I came of age.”

Hermione had inadvertently pulled him closer to her, his warm body now blocking the wind. Her cheeks warmed as she dropped his hand, “It’s nice.”

“Thanks,” he said, glancing down at it before putting his hand back in his pocket, “Is there anything like that for Muggles?”

Hermione shook her head, “Well we — Muggles, I mean — don’t come of age until eighteen. And there’s no specific gift.”

“You’re a witch though,” he said, “Didn’t you get a watch for your birthday?”

“My parents are Muggles.”

“Yes, but they have to learn to acclimate to this culture right? Since their daughter is a part of it.”

“I suppose that would be true,” she allowed, “If I’d told them.”

Blaise tilted his head at her, his eyes curious, “Why haven’t you?”

She realized she liked talking to him face-to-face more than writing letters. While the letters had helped her get past her own self-consciousness, she’d only had his words to go by. In person, she could watch his expressions, his mannerisms.

“I don’t know,” she said, “My parents have always been okay with me being a witch, but I guess I sometimes don’t know how to be around them. I’m not around a lot, so I guess I try not to do things that scream at them that I have another part of myself they know very little about.”

Blaise frowned, “Wouldn’t telling them bring you closer?”

Hermione shook her head, “I don’t want them closer. I’m a Muggle-born who is best friends with the Boy Who Lived. It would only put them in danger.”

Blaise fell silent then. At first Hermione thought he might feel put out by her response, but then she realized he was lost in thought.

“What do you tell them, then?”

She shrugged, “My grades, mostly. They can understand those, even if the system is different from the Muggle one. And about my friends,” she had told them quite a lot about Harry and Ron throughout the years.

Blaise’s eyes met hers then, but he looked nervous again, rubbing his nose before asking, “Have you told them about me?”

Hermione opened her mouth, but no words came out. She shook her head, “Are we even friends?”

He looked away, suddenly bashful. “I mean...I’d like to be.”

Her heart was thudding in her chest. “Okay,” she tried to sound casual. “We’re friends then.”

“Alright then,” he said, sounding relieved.

It was dark now, so that Hermione could really only see Blaise’s silhouette, feel the breadth of his body in front of hers.

“We should probably get back,” she said. Harry should have arrived by now.

She could see Blaise’s shadow nod, and the two turned back towards the lights of the castle, trudging through the snow. A couple of times, Hermione’s shoulder would bump into him, or his elbow was graze her, and she would hold her breath until they slipped back apart in the darkness. Silence spread between them, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Hermione wondered what Blaise was thinking.

They finally got to the front doors. Hermione took a deep breath to recenter herself.

Just as Blaise’s hand touched the handle, the doors pushed open, startling them both. Professor Dumbledore stood in the doorway, a fur-lined navy cloak draped over robes of silver and maroon. His blue eyes widened in surprise from behind his half-moon glasses.

“Ah, Miss Granger! And Mr. Zabini,” he said charmingly, “What a lovely surprise.”

“H-hi Professor,” Hermione stammered, “You’re out late.”

“On the contrary, the night is quite young,” Dumbledore looked between the two of them, “I’m afraid I have some business with Hagrid that needs attending. I do hope the two of you are ready for the excitement of a new term?”

“Of course, sir,” Blaise said politely, looking just as stunned as Hermione felt.

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said, “Oh, I’ve almost forgotten. Miss Granger, if you could present this note to your friend Mr. Potter, I would be eternally in your debt.”

He passed Hermione a small piece of folded parchment. Recognition flashed through Hermione’s mind. This must be about Harry’s next lesson. “I’ll do that right away, sir.”

“Thank you,” Dumbledore smiled at the two of them, “Well, don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you have far more illuminating tasks to get up to than babbling away with an old man.” He swept past them and off across the grounds, towards Hagrid’s snow-capped hut. 

Hermione’s eyes felt like they would pop out of her head. As she glanced up at Blaise’s shocked expression, she felt a strong urge to laugh.

They stepped into the entrance hall, which was deserted but for the Grey Lady, moping up near the chandelier. Blaise turned towards her, dipping his head slightly to meet her gaze.

“Well, er, I’ll see you in class?” Hermione said, suddenly nervous again.

“Yeah,” he nudged her lightly with his elbow, “‘Night, Hermione.”

And with that he turned away, taking the staircase down to the Slytherin common room. As she hurried up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower, Hermione smiled to herself.

…

Hermione found Harry, Ron, and Ginny stuck outside of the Gryffindor common room, arguing with an irritable Fat Lady.

“Harry! Ginny!” she called, hurrying over.

“Hey Hermione,” Ginny said as she brushed a bit of ash off of Harry’s shoulder, “Where have you been?”

“Oh, er, I’ve just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck — I mean Witherwings,” she lied quickly, internally thanking Dumbledore for giving her the idea. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Yeah,” answered Ron, as if their last interaction hadn’t involved him humiliating her in front of their entire class, “it was pretty eventful—”

“I’ve got something for you, Harry,” she said, pretending she hadn’t heard Ron, “Oh, wait, the password. Abstinence.”

“Precisely,” the Fat Lady said, swinging open. The four of them stepped into the crowded common room where students were greeting friends and taking advantage of the last few hours of down time before the homework started to pile up again.

Hermione pulled out the scroll Dumbledore had passed her at the castle doors and passed it to Harry.

“Won-Won!” came a high squeal, cutting Harry off as he opened his mouth to thank her. Lavender came hurtling into Ron out of nowhere, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly knocking him over. An annoyed look crossed over Harry’s face and Hermione grimaced, remembering Lavender’s worries about her relationship with Ron on the train.

“There’s a table over here,” she said quickly, trying to divert attention from the palpable desperation clinging to the interlocked couple, “Coming Ginny?”

“No, thanks, I said I’d meet Dean,” Ginny said, sounding resigned. Hermione eyed Harry as Ginny walked away, noting the faint optimism in his pink cheeks.

“What?” he asked when he caught her watching.

“Nothing,” Hermione said airily. She’d decided she wouldn’t probe him about Ginny unless he decided to talk to her about it, but his feelings really were obvious to anyone with eyes.

“So how was your Christmas?” he asked, very obviously trying to divert attention from himself.

“Oh, fine,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly as though the question hadn’t brought a certain Slytherin to the forefront of her mind, “Nothing special. How was it at Won-Won’s?”

Harry looked as if he wanted to say something about his friends’ standing feud but she glared at him before he could. He sighed, rolling his eyes before resigning to keep his thoughts to himself.

“Before that,” he said, “I still haven’t told you what happened before break.”

He explained to her that he too had left Slughorn’s Christmas party earlier, soon after she had escaped with Blaise, in fact. Instead of heading to the Gryffindor common room to call it a night, he had followed Snape and Malfoy under the Invisibility Cloak.

“Malfoy was talking about some job he had to do for ‘his master’ and Snape was offering to help him. Said he’d made an ‘Unbreakable Vow.’”

Hermione frowned at the smug eagerness on Harry’s face. “Don’t you think—?”

“—he was pretending to offer help so that he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he’s doing?” Harry interrupted, clearly having thought through this line of argument.

She blinked, “Well, yes.”

“Ron’s dad and Lupin think so,” he said grudgingly, “But this definitely proves Malfoy’s planning something, you can’t deny that.”

“No, I can’t,” she said slowly. She hated to agree with him when it felt like doing so would just push him further into his obsession.

Still, she let him carry on for a bit with his Malfoy-is-a-Death-Eater conspiracy, inwardly hoping that Harry would find other things to capture his attention. He mentioned that he was planning to tell Dumbledore what he had overheard, and she hoped the headmaster would be able to put a stop to his spiraling.

The next morning brought something else Hermione thought might work as a distraction for Harry: sixth years were to start Apparition lessons. She signed up, excited to finally learn a new magical skill. All day, everyone chattered on about it.

“It’ll be like we’re official adults!” Parvati said excitedly at lunch while Lavender moped quietly, playing with her food and casting furtive glances over at Ron and Harry further down the table. Hermione wondered if something had happened between now and their wrestling match the night before.

“At least you two are of age already,” Lavender sighed, turning back to her chips, “I won’t be able to take the test until summer.”

Hermione had long decided to stay out of her and Ron’s business, so she just gave a conciliatory grunt and went back to skimming the Daily Prophet, which was reporting a Dementor attack and two disappearances since the start of the new year.

After Charms she went to the library, wondering if there was a book she could check out on the theory of Apparition, just so she could be prepared for the first day. She made her way over to the section on Magical Transportation.

The Apparition books were first, and Hermione scanned the titles slowly. There were books about famous Apparating records, scary stories of Apparitions gone horribly wrong (with moving illustrations), even a guide to Side-Along Apparition. She frowned at the empty space on the shelf between Apparating with Aplomb by Gilderoy Lockhart and Arctic to Tropic: How Temperature May Affect Your Apparition by Cardaroc Jumper.

“You’re predictable, you know that?” a familiar voice said behind her.

Hermione’s stomach fluttered as she whipped around to see Blaise leaning back against the shelves dedicated to Floo traveling. He held a small book in his hands, a smirk on his face.

“Hi,” Hermione said. She nodded at the book in his hands, “Studying for Apparition lessons too?”

“Nope,” Blaise said. His fingers flexed around it and Hermione suddenly remembered his firm grip on her elbow at the Christmas Party, “Some of us read for fun, you know.”

Hermione ignored his dig, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of her. “What are you reading?”

Suddenly, Blaise looked guarded, self-conscious. He shifted the book behind his back, “Nothing.”

“Oh, come on, let me see,” she said, reaching forward to get a look at the title.

His hand flew up, over his head and out of her reach.

“Honestly,” she huffed. She pushed up on her toes, trying to close the distance.

Blaise chuckled as he straightened his arm, holding the book higher. His breath tickled her ear. Hermione jumped, her fingers bumping against the band of his watch. When she landed she lost her footing, tripping forward.

Blaise’s free hand slid to her lower back, to keep her steady as he stumbled, the bookshelf wobbling behind him. Hermione caught herself on the shelf with one hand, her other splayed against his chest as she tried to maintain her balance.

The smell of cinnamon and cloves filled her nose. She looked up at him, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes blazed and the grip on her back seemed to tighten, sending a jolt up her spine. Hermione’s gaze fell on Blaise’s lips, slightly parted in surprise, and she forgot about the book.

Blaise’s eyes widened and then he looked away suddenly, dropping his hand. Hermione backed up, clearing her throat. Her heart was pounding and she felt as if she were under a very persistent space heater.

“You don’t have to show me,” she said quietly, embarrassed.

“No, it’s fine,” Blaise said. He held the book out to her.

Hermione took it, careful not to let their fingers touch. The cover was an eggplant purple, a curvy Black woman in a glittering dress shaking her hips on the cover. The title was written in curly green writing, A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Success, the Autobiography of Celestina Warbeck.

She looked back up at him. He was rubbing the back of his head, looking abashed. “I like autobiographies. She’s my mum’s favorite singer.”

Hermione smiled at this new bit of information. “What other ones have you read?” she asked, partly because she was curious and partly to show him there was no reason to be embarrassed.

“I’ve read loads,” he said, looking encouraged. “There was this one about the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation before Barty Crouch. He was the one who helped establish an exchange system for different kinds of wizarding money, can you believe we didn’t have it before?”

Hermione had never seen Blaise so passionate about anything. His face seemed to genuinely open up, his eyes alight.

“Seraphina Picquery was the one I read before this one,” he continued. He glanced at his shoes a moment, biting his lip. “The one I read at the beginning of break was about Dorinda Stallworth. She was—”

“The first female Supreme Mugwump,” Hermione said. Her cheeks were flaming now, as she remembered him mentioning how the book had reminded him of her. She plunged forward in an attempt to skip over the strange tension building between them. “I haven’t read many autobiographies. Well, except for Lockhart’s, but that was for school.”

Blaise’s knowing smirk was back. He reached out to take the book back, his fingers brushing her hand. Hermione held her breath. “You can borrow some of mine if you’d like,” he said, “When you’re not too busy studying.”

With a parting nod, he turned down the aisle. Hermione watched him leave, her hand tingling where their skin had touched.

…

A few days later, Hermione stood in an empty courtyard with Harry, snow glittering in her thick hair.

“And so Dumbledore said I have to figure out a way to get Slughorn’s memory, the real one,” Harry looked a little nervous, his looming fate a shadow over him.

Hermione’s mind was racing as she thought through all he had told her. “He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn’t get it out of him,” she said, keeping her voice low in case anyone happened to walk by. “Horcruxes...Horcruxes...I’ve never even heard of them…” How was that possible?

“You haven’t?” Harry sounded disappointed. Hermione felt a twinge of irritation — he always relied on her to know everything.

“They must be really advanced Dark Magic, or why would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? I think it’s going to be difficult to get the information, Harry, you’ll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy…” despite herself, she was already trying to think of ways to convince Slughorn to give up the memory. Perhaps a potion or a—

“Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions.”

Hermione’s irritation turned to full blown anger, “Oh, well if Won-Won thinks that, you’d better do it,” she snapped, “After all, when has Won-Won’s judgment ever been faulty?”

“Hermione, can’t you—?”

“No!” she said before stalking off, leaving him in the ankle-deep snow.

She was fuming all through Arithmancy. Harry — and Ron — had relied on her for so much: homework, research that was outside of the purview of schoolwork, saving their lives, only to turn around and not take her advice seriously. It wasn’t that she thought she was always right, but for Harry to disregard her opinion for someone who was only dating a girl so he could be seen doing it, who couldn’t even play Quidditch without someone tricking him into thinking he was actually good, stung. When had her best friends become so infuriating?

She felt a strong need to vent, to throw her feelings at someone just for the sake of it. But there was no one. Harry and Ron were her only close friends; Lavender wouldn’t hear a word against her boyfriend and Parvati wouldn’t care. Maybe Ginny, but she had enough going on with her rocky relationship with Dean.

Her mind turned to Blaise as class ended. It had been so easy to talk to him over break, but they were in the same place now. She couldn’t just borrow Hedwig, a pretty recognizable owl, and send her down to the Slytherin common room. Maybe she could find him? But wouldn’t that be weird, not mention stalker-like? Hermione made her way to Gryffindor Tower to drop her things. She sighed internally as she helped a small first year girl pick up the large stack of books that had spilled from her hands onto the ground on the seventh floor. She should just let it go.

Rather than dwell on it, she decided she should write a letter to her parents. It was only a few days into the new term, but she figured she should try to make more of an effort to reach out than she had in the past. Something about the tense climate in the wizarding world made her want to try harder to maintain her Muggle connections, even if she could barely stand to live in that world anymore.

She made her way up to the common room after dinner, ready to spend her time by the fireplace writing to her parents. She walked up a staircase to the fourth floor, pleased that it was already moving to connect to a landing that would take her down a more direct route to Gryffindor Tower. The feeling quickly dissipated when she spotted a group of Gryffindor seventh years, recognizing Cormac McLaggen among them.

His face lit up when he saw her, and Hermione quickly averted her eyes, ready to pretend as if she hadn’t seen him. 

Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she had almost gotten past the group when McLaggen shouted, “Hey, Granger!”

She wondered if she could pretend not to hear him, but he had already detached himself from his friends, his long legs catching up with her before she could turn the corner up ahead. She slowed to a halt, grimacing.

“Oh, hello,” she said awkwardly, glancing at his friends, who were clearly pretending not to be paying attention.

“Had a good vacation?” he asked, grinning down at her in a knowing way that made it clear he didn’t actually know anything. He was standing too close again. Hermione rocked back on her heels.

She shrugged, glancing back down the hall, “Yeah, it was fine.”

“You know, I was thinking,” he said, barely listening to her response, “I feel like we were cut off at the Christmas party.”

Hermione forced the bewildered laugh that was climbing up her throat back down.

He seemed to take her silence as an invitation. “There’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up soon,” he said, “Maybe we could try again? I’m sure there will be less distractions.”

Hermione took a clear step back then. Trying her best to smile as if her skin wasn’t crawling, she shook her head, “Sorry, I don’t really have time to date,” she said, “What with schoolwork and prefect duties and...other things.”

Mortified, she turned and hurried down the hallway, leaving McLaggen looking dumbstruck. By the time she made it to the common room, it was full of students, all of the seats by the fire taken. Annoyed, Hermione went up to her dormitory, resolving to write her letter in the quiet. She pulled out her parchment and quill and sat on her bed, leaning her back against the headboard. Crookshanks stalked over, curling up on top of her feet.

She told her parents about her classes, the weather, and the upcoming Apparition lessons. She stared at the page long and hard, trying to think of any other updates to give, but there was nothing to say about Harry or Ron that wouldn’t make her more angry than she already was. Honestly, angry wasn’t the word. Tired. She was tired.

For a moment, she wondered if she should include anything about Blaise. She hadn’t told them about writing to him over break, often disappearing into her room for a time to read and respond, or else waiting until they were out for work. Have you told them about me? His voice, the shy way he had looked away from her as he said it, echoed in her mind. She supposed she could tell them about him, but what would she even say? She felt flustered just imagining the ways her parents could read into her words, and she folded the parchment up and sealed it quickly before she could do something she might regret.

She slid her feet out from under Crookshanks and pulled her shoes back on before leaving the dormitory, hurrying through the crowded common room and out into the halls. As she wound her way through the castle to the Owlery, it suddenly occurred to her that her account of the weather might have let something slip about breeding Dementors. She quickly unsealed the parchment as she sidestepped the Bloody Baron telling off Peeves, and made a left at the portrait of two wizards trying their hardest to escape an angry bowtruckle.

It’s been quite gloomy here though the snow is nice.

She exhaled sharply. Good. But now, she felt the need to read through the entire thing, just to be sure there was nothing in it to alarm her parents or alert the wrong person should it be intercepted. Her eyes flew across the page.

“You should really watch where you’re walking,” Blaise’s teasing voice said from about four feet ahead of her.

Her eyes flew up from her account of her latest Herbology class. He stood facing her on the stairs leading up to the Owlery, on the second step from the bottom.

“I was just double checking the letter I’m about to send to my parents,” she said, trying to ignore the way her heart rate seemed to pick up speed.

He shook his head, “Overachieving even in your letter writing.”

Hermione flushed, “Did you just get done sending a letter, then?”

“To my mum,” he said quickly, scratching his broad nose, “I finished that book this morning. Thought she might like it.”

“That’s nice,” There was a beat of awkward silence. Hermione gestured up the stairs lamely, “I’m just gonna...go send this off.”

“I’ll come with you,” Blaise said, turning on the ball of his foot to walk back up the stairs.

“Oh,” Hermione said, startled, “Alright.”

She tried to continue reading the letter back on their way up, but she could barely focus. The staircase was narrow, which made it so that they kept bumping into each other with every other step, their arms brushing against each other. By the time they reached the top, she had decided to give up and trust that she’d done alright the first time.

She could feel Blaise watching her as she looked up to find one of the school owls. Normally, she would ask Harry to use Hedwig, who she saw snoozing up at the very top of the rafters, but she wasn’t talking to him. She spotted a barn owl not too far up, and stepped forward to call her down.

“So, you only write your mum?” she tried to be casual, but she felt awkward, her voice somehow coming out higher than usual.

Blaise leaned back against the perch, close enough that their shoulders touched lightly. She felt like a live wire had sparked right in the place where their arms touched, spreading through the rest of her. She tried to ignore it, to pretend that it was no big deal. She couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, but he seemed just as calm as ever. She focused hard on tying the envelope to the owl’s leg.

“Yeah, mostly,” he said, “There was this one girl I used to write to, but she hasn’t sent me anything since we got back to school.”

Hermione’s fingers fumbled around the string, and she looked up. There was that look again, from after the Christmas party. His eyes were blazing, and he was leaning closer to her, as if they were sharing in some big secret. Hermione was suddenly very aware of his body, his warm scent. Their touching shoulders, it seemed, were the least of her problems, especially when he was smirking like that, his full lips tipped up lightly on one side. For a moment, her mind went blank.

“Well,” she said shakily, “She sounds lovely.”

Blaise laughed. It was higher than she expected, but warm and free. All of the building tension seemed to dissipate at the sound of his mirth, and Hermione grinned. She went off to help the owl out of the nearest window. By the time she turned back around, Blaise’s laughter had faded away, but a sweet smile graced his lips.

“Come on,” he said, jerking his head towards the exit, “I’ll walk you back down.”

She followed him towards the doorway without hesitation, and found herself racking her brain, trying to think of something to say or do that might make him laugh like that again.

“So,” he said as they reached the bottom of the staircase, “How is your start of term going?”

Hermione shrugged, “It’s fine. There’s a lot to do, but I’ve improved a lot on my time management.”

Blaise raised his eyebrows at her, “Do you mean to tell me you weren’t always good at time management?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but I can sometimes overdo things.”

“I have never heard that about you.”

“Well then you’ll be surprised to learn that third year Professor McGonagall wrote to the Ministry to allow me the use of a time turner so that I could take all of the classes the school offers.”

Blaise stopped walking, his jaw falling slack. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You traveled in time to take extra classes.”

“You know I never thought about it, but I’m technically at least nine months older than everyone thinks.”

This musing seemed to be too much for Blaise. A laugh burst from his mouth and he keeled over, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“That’s — the most — you thing — I have ever heard,” he gasped.

Hermione was giggling too as she truly processed her own ridiculousness and simultaneously took that moment to congratulate herself for succeeding in making Blaise laugh twice in such a short span of time. The sound of his laughter made her feel like she was standing out in the sun, even though they were still in the dead of winter.

“What about you?” she asked, once they had both calmed down a bit, continuing down the dimly lit hall, their footsteps echoing off the high walls.

“What do you mean?” Blaise asked, still smiling, his face a door unlocked.

“What is a peak ‘you’ moment?” as many letters as they had exchanged in the two weeks of Christmas break, Hermione only ever found herself wanting to know more about him.

“Hmm,” Blaise said, nudging her gently to the right so that she wouldn’t miss the turn that led to the Gryffindor common room. “I don’t know that I’ve ever quite achieved that level of self-caricature.”

Hermione huffed, lifting her nose with an air of superiority, “You’ve obviously not been trying hard enough.”

“I did ‘accidentally’ ruin a pair of one of my step-dad’s shoes,” he said, thoughtfully.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Selwyn. He always seemed hell bent on separating me and my mum. I don’t think I factored into his plans for her,” the ghost of a frown flitted across his face.

“He sounds awful,” Hermione said lightly, “Would the accidental nature of your vandalism hold up in front of the Wizengamot, do you think?”

Blaise grinned then, and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. The way his cheekbones filled out when he smiled, the way his eyes flashed playfully...he should really warn her before he did things like that.

“It should,” he said, “It happened just before first year, actually. He’d said something cheeky, I don’t even remember what at this point. I’d gone to bed angry, and when I woke up his shoes had somehow found their way into Adonis’s cage.”

Hermione let out a cry of laughter, then clapped her hands to her mouth, worried she had been too loud. 

“Adonis didn’t eat them of course — he has taste,” Blaise said, wrinkling his nose. Hermione had dissolved into a fit of giggles. “They were hideous — some bright red monstrosity he was trying to pass off as dragon leather. He couldn’t get the stains off, even with magic.”

Tears dotted the corners of Hermione’s eyes, as she tried to keep her laughter in, her hand still pressed to her mouth. She put her other hand on Blaise’s shoulder to steady herself, taking a deep breath. He chuckled, joy still lighting his face, but something softer was pushing through.

Her laughter faded away as she suddenly became aware of what she was doing. Her hand suddenly felt like lead where she gripped his shoulder, electricity running up her arm. She bit her lip as she dropped her hand, feeling strangely awkward and self-conscious. Blaise looked away, his face closing off again. Silence stretched between them, tense and confusing.

Hermione cleared her throat, “I should, er…”

“Yeah,” he said, “Me too.”

He offered her a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. As he turned away, Hermione suddenly felt disappointed. She wasn’t sure what had been about to happen, but she was sure she had ruined it.

…

Hermione was trying her hardest to manage her clearly growing feelings for Blaise, unable to see how it could end anything but badly. Still, she appreciated having someone around who made her feel like she was interesting outside of her extensive knowledge on the twelve uses of dragon’s blood. It especially helped given that Harry and Ron continued to infuriate her.

Ron was oscillating between trying to talk to her as if nothing had happened and making snide remarks when she passed. Harry, on the other hand, refused to do his Potions work on his own, instead using the Half-Blood Prince’s instructions any chance he got.

“I have to try to soften Slughorn up if I’m going to get that memory from him, aren’t I?” was his excuse.

But one lesson, towards the end of January, seemed like it would finally backfire on him.

“Settle down, settle down, please!” Slughorn said from the front of the room, “Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott’s Third Law...who can tell me—?” Hermione’s hand shot up, “But Miss Granger can, of course!”

Hermione could see Blaise rolling his eyes at the Slytherin table, but she could tell he was amused by her.

“Golpalott’s Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components,” she recited.

“Precisely!” beamed Slughorn. “Ten points to Gryffindor! Now, if we accept Golpalott’s Third Law as true…”

Harry looked like he was going to be sick. Ron wasn’t even paying attention, doodling in the corner of his book as if someone would Apparate into the room and do the lesson for him. Hermione grinned to herself as she copied down Slughorn’s words into her notes.

“...and so,” Slughorn finished, “I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don’t forget your protective gloves.”

Hermione shot up out of her seat and grabbed her phial before anyone else could. She went back to her cauldron and tipped the hissing electric blue poison inside before starting the fire beneath.

“It’s a shame that the Prince won’t be able to help you much with this, Harry,” she said brightly. She couldn’t help herself, “You have to understand the principles involved this time. No shortcuts or cheats!”

Harry scowled as Hermione turned back to her cauldron.

She pulled out her wand and thought Specialis Revelio! The potion separated into its disparate parts. She poured them out one by one into different phials. She recognized the fellviper venom immediately, and the nightshade. The others she had to check in her book. She had most of the separate antidotes in her potion-making kit, but a few she had to grab from the class stores. She poured it all back into her cauldron and set it to simmer before clipping a small chunk of her own hair and adding it in, changing the light, almost transparent peach color to a cloudy and swirling sunset orange. 

Harry sighed and stood, going over to the store cupboard.

“Two minutes left, everyone!” Slughorn called. Hermione added a few more ingredients into the now thickly bubbling cauldron, which had now turned a dusky purple. She turned the fire off and started scooping it out, tipping the contents into her bottle.

“Time’s...UP!” Slughorn called, “Well, let’s see how you’ve done! Blaise...what have you got for me?”

Blaise stood by his cauldron, arms crossed. As Slughorn peeked over at his final result, he raised his eyebrows at Hermione playfully. She bit her lip and looked down at her bottle of antidote. She suddenly realized she had forgotten the asphodel on her cutting board. She quickly grabbed some and sprinkled it into the bottle while Slughorn moved on to Malfoy, who looked like he had spilled vomit over the front of his robes.

Slughorn came to their table last. He sniffed Ernie’s potion, and almost gagged at the awful fumes coming from Ron’s cauldron.

“And you, Harry,” he said, “What have you got to show me?”

Harry held out his hand, a small shriveled stone in the center of his palm.

There was a long beat of silence. Harry began to turn red. Suddenly, Slughorn roared with laughter.

“You’ve got nerve, boy!” He boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so the entire class could see. “Oh, you’re like your mother...Well, I can’t fault you...A bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!”

Slughorn hadn’t even looked at Hermione, had completely forgotten to look at the work she had done. He only had eyes for Harry. She felt a hot anger burn through her, making her eyes water.

“That’s the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs!” said Slughorn happily. Hermione’s hands began to shake as Slughorn went back up to his desk, her potion completely forgotten.

She tossed her things into her bag haphazardly and stormed out of the room as the bell rang. She was sick of this, of putting in so much effort and getting nothing in return. School was the thing she was good at, and Harry was just stumbling through, taking up space without doing any actual work.

She fought back her tears as she entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, knowing it would do no good to cry in front of Snape. She chose a seat as far from the back as possible, knowing Harry and Ron would probably choose to sit there.

By the time Harry came in, he didn’t look as triumphant as when she’d left the Potions classroom. She found out why at lunch.

“It was a disaster,” he said, sitting down across from her at the table like she wasn’t still furious with him, “Slughorn all but threw me out at the mention of Horcruxes.”

“Wow,” she said flatly, “Who would’ve thought Won-Won’s suggestion wouldn’t go as planned?”

“Hermione, can’t you just talk to him already?”

“Leave me alone, Harry,” she said sharply, opening up the autobiography of Seraphina Picquery Blaise had lent her the week before.

…

Even through her anger, Harry’s update on Slughorn’s memory reminded her that she wanted to look up information on Horcruxes. On her next break, she went to the Restricted Section of the library. She scanned the books and found two that she thought might work: Dark Sorcery and Magick Moste Evile. After grabbing them both off the shelf, she went to find a quiet corner to read.

She found Blaise instead, sitting at a table on his own, books sprawled out in front of him as he scribbled neatly on a sheet of parchment. Sunlight peeked through the cloudy sky from the high window, briefly passing over him, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. She hurried over to him without a thought, a smile spreading across her face.

“Can I join you?” she asked once she was close enough.

Blaise looked up, his dark eyes bright. He gestured to the empty chair across from him, “Go ahead.”

Hermione dropped her bag on the ground beside the table and sat in the chair as he went back to his work. She slid Magick Moste Evile in front of her, which let out a low ghostly moan as she opened it to the introduction.

Blaise looked back up from his Transfiguration essay, an eyebrow raised.

“Why are you reading such a creepy book?”

Hermione’s fingers froze on the first page. She hadn’t thought of this when she’d come over. She knew she couldn’t tell Blaise why she had really picked up these books, and she cast around for something convincing to tell him.

“I’m trying to understand the way werewolf bites work,” she lied, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I thought these might help.”

Blaise seemed to buy it, accepting her need to know everything about everything in the slightly exasperated way she had become accustomed to. “I doubt Snape will care if you’re able to pinpoint the exact magical property that creates the change.”

“Yes, but learning Defense is about more than getting good grades,” she pointed out.

Blaise’s eyes widened, looking startled, before he shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

They passed the rest of break time in silence, each of them focused on their own work. Hermione didn’t find anything about Horcruxes in Magick Moste Evile except for a small mention in the introduction, so she turned to Dark Sorcery in the hopes that it would at the very least shed light on what a Horcrux actually was.

Blaise started packing up his things ten minutes before the end of break. “What class do you have?”

“Arithmancy,” Hermione said, shutting the book.

“History of Magic’s in the same wing,” he said, pushing himself out of his seat. He jerked his head towards the exit, “Come on.”

He waited for her by the door as she checked her books out with Madam Pince, and then they strode out together. Hermione started to feel a little nervous, wondering what would happen if someone they knew saw them together. As if he had read her mind, Blaise made a sharp right, pulling open a tapestry and revealing a small corridor, a shortcut that would not only ensure they were hidden, but would cut across the castle to where they needed to go. Hermione ducked inside.

“I meant to ask,” Blaise said, adjusting his bag on his shoulder, “How are you after the bezoar incident?”

She had left her anger to simmer in the back of her mind in her more pressing quest to learn about Horcruxes, and it burned brighter now at the mention of their last Potions class. But she couldn’t let Blaise know how much it hurt. She suspected he had a bias against Harry, which she wasn’t sure was just from his being a Slytherin. “I’m fine,” she said tightly.

“Hmm,” Blaise said. Hermione looked up to see that he was frowning.

“What?”

“Nothing, just you looked really upset in class…” he trailed off, glancing down at her, his eyebrows raised.

Hermione huffed, “Well obviously I’m furious, but there’s nothing I can do. Harry is Professor Slughorn’s favorite.”

“Even among us favorites,” Blaise sighed, though he didn’t sound bitter. “I’m sorry he didn’t get to appreciate your hard work,” he reached out and tugged lightly on her hair, where she’d snipped off a bit to add to her antidote.

Hermione scowled at his sly grin and smacked his hand away, pretending that the contact didn’t sent her heart racing.

Up ahead, she could see the exit, could hear the chatter and footsteps of students just beyond the large framed portrait that was blocking them in, out of sight.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, curiosity in his eyes.

“Sure.”

“Why’d you hesitate to tell me how you were feeling?”

Hermione’s stomach flipped but she rolled her eyes, “Because if I tell you how I’m really feeling, you’ll just go into a diatribe about how that’s why you’re a loner who luxuriates in your own solitude atop the Astronomy Tower.”

Blaise laughed, but shook his head, “Nah, I wouldn’t do that. Not now that I’ve found you.”

His words made her blush, and her voice came out quieter than she intended. “Glad I could help pull you down from your tower.”

They slowed to a stop, just before the entrance. She looked up at Blaise, about to suggest that they leave one at a time, so that no one would suspect anything. But Blaise didn’t seem to be thinking about an escape. His eyes sparkled humorously, and he took a step towards her.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” he murmured.

He was so close, Hermione couldn’t see past the breadth of his shoulders. His warm scent filled her nose and her breathing turned shallow as he gently tugged on her hair again, his fingers winding their way through her tight curls. Her eyes locked onto his. There was a fire behind them, and she couldn’t look away.

She lifted her chin as he bent down, closing the already shrinking gap between them. And then his lips pressed against hers, gentle but firm.

Before she could think, before she could decide to kiss him back or pull away, the pressure on her lips was gone, his hand gone from her hair.

Her eyes fluttered open, just in time to see Blaise’s standard smirk before he pushed the portrait open and slipped out into the crowded hall.

To Be Continued

[thegreenfairy13]

Dog Sitter - Part 3 Hand Over The Dog Then

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog Ed, Jim Gordon finds it and does an excellent job when it comes to taking care of the mobster’s furry friend. Read it on Ao3 here. 

Five days have passed since Oswald’s unfortunate run-in with Jim and he honestly doesn’t expect to hear from the foul-tempered Captain anytime soon. Not after exchanging their latest unpleasantries that is. But here goes Gordon and surprises the gangster. Quite thoroughly.

Oswald spent the last five minutes staring at the inconspicuous box lying on his desk disbelievingly. He’s completely paralyzed. This can’t be happening, but yet it does: Jim Gordon has sent him a present. Well, not him personally but rather Edward.

The point still stands. After years of resentment, anger, rage, vengeance and playing all kinds of games, Jim Gordon has decided to something nice for the very first time. It’s the closest Oswald will ever come to receiving an apology from the impossible man.

The gangster treads carefully through the contents of the parcel: three dog-collars made of surprisingly soft leather, two more coats for Ed, two dog bowls, another doggie basket, and countless toys. Oswald can’t even fathom when and how the busy man had found the time to buy that insane amount of dog accessories. Did Jim just walk into the first store and grabbed anything and everything that struck his fancy?

Picking up one coat, he slides it over Ed’s head, and lo and behold, it fits perfectly. So Jim indeed put some care into his selection. Also, contrary to any prejudice he holds against the cop, all of these items are of immaculate quality. Of course, they aren’t as luxurious as Ed’s usual collection but they are no cheap crap either.

Zsasz saunters into the room and stares at the parcel with blunt curiosity. “Seems like the Captain went slightly overboard,” he states as his long, leather-clad fingers descend into the box. “Wow, is that a velvet frock ?” he asks while digging through the contents, eyes widening at the sight of a little black jacket complete with coattails.

“I’d prefer you wouldn’t go through my personal belongings,” the Penguin snaps, yanking the item impatiently from his minion’s hands.

“Technically, these aren’t yours,” the assassin points out, still itching to get a better look at the coat but knowing better than to test his employer's patience.

“Edward owns these, I own Edward,” Oswald retorts with a little huff while shoving the parcel underneath his desk.

“Well, that’s just the law and I can’t remember we ever cared much about that,” Victor decides, slurping his milk-shake loudly. “I very much assume dogs are able to own things,” Victor carries on, unfazed. “Don’t you think?” he asks. Raising his cup, he takes another sip while studying the mob-boss expectantly.

The Penguin only responds with an annoyed glare. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tries to remember why exactly it’s not an excellent idea to poison those god-awful milkshakes. Besides, he has no idea how he ended up discussing whether dogs are able to own things or not with his hitman. Oswald needs to change the topic.

Getting up from his seat, he pulls a face while tapping his cane impatiently on the floor. “Did you find me another caretaker for Edward yet?” he demands to know, aiming for his usual, imperious nature.

His change in demeanor has the desired effect as Zsasz returns to his professional self. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head. “None of the applicants meet your expectations. Honestly, I’m not even sure first-aid-courses specifically for Bulldogs are even available.”

When the kingpin doesn’t answer, the assassin sighs in exasperation. “Why do you even need a dog-sitter?” he demands to know, earning himself another scowl.

After all, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot didn’t rise to become a king to justify himself. It’s certainly none of his minion’s business why he can’t care for his puppy 24/7. He has other obligations too, and some of those need to stay a well-kept secret.

Like Martin. Martin, his little boy, his son, the light of his life.

None of his subordinates must ever know where his kid is being kept. Oswald went great lengths to ensure his child’s safety. And that includes absolutely nobody being able to guess his whereabouts.

The kid is currently visiting a private school in Connecticut where no one has a clue who and what his father truly is. To those people, he’s nothing but a wealthy businessman like so many others. Just another irresponsible parent who only visits their kid on the weekends.

Oswald never imagined being a father. And even if, he would have never guessed he’d be the kind of parent who can’t care for his child as his mother did.

Not being able to wrap his arms around the precious little thing whenever he seeks guidance, comfort, or just needs his dad’s presence, rips the criminal’s heart out on a daily basis. Yet, after Sofia’s attempt to take his son’s life, Oswald can’t take any risks.

First, he tried staying apart from him completely - for Martin’s own good. But the little man wouldn’t listen. And one night, he broke into the mansion, alerting each and every security system in the process.

Of course, Oswald had tried to send him away again. But when Martin broke down in tears and spoke for the first time in his life, the gangster knew he stood no chance. Not after Martin had called him dad.

And since then, the mobster drives to New Haven every Friday evening, uncaring how much his bad leg would hurt, or much work still needs to be done, in order to spend the weekend with his kid.

Gabe is certain Oswald has an affair with some sweet, innocent girl who may never know he’s a gangster. Butch thinks more or less the same. Zsasz probably assumes he tortures his enemies in a dark cellar during his free time. And thank you very much, Oswald intends to keep it that way.

If only Ed would not puke the moment he enters a car, Oswald would take him along for the ride. But after countless failed attempts to get his pet used to driving, the mobster decided to hire a dog-sitter.

Sadly, neither Gabe nor Butch can be entrusted with the task at hand. Oswald doesn’t trust Gabe’s mental abilities enough to leave something as precious as Ed in his care. Butch, on the other hand, is still hopelessly devoted to Tabitha who in turn is still in a relationship with Barbara. And Oswald is pretty certain she wouldn’t hesitate to use his dog against him if given half a chance.

As for Zsasz… Well, keeping something alive outright contradicts his job description.

“Why don’t you ask Gordon?” The assassin’s voice pierces right through the kingpin’s musings, startling him in the process. “He owes you, right?” Zsasz continues. “And you haven’t been exactly collecting your debts lately. I mean, I’d rather torture him for a couple of days but as you seem to have a soft spot for Gordon….”

Holding up a hand, Oswald interrupts his subordinate. “I decidedly do not have a soft spot for the good Captain,” he states, pulling a face and Zsasz retreats with a soft smile playing around his lips.

Oh no, the Penguin definitely does not have a soft spot for anyone except his kid and dog. And certainly not for some deceitful cop. Sure, he should kill the man who brought him to Arkham twice, and who robbed him of his position of power in the process, but killing is just too mundane.

After all, revenge is a form of art. And Jim Gordon deserves something special. A special kind of revenge. The very moment Oswald has figured out what to do with him, he definitely will. Absolutely. That’s a promise. Until then, he can still be useful.

And maybe, just maybe, he admires Jim - just a bit. In a city full of corrupt politicians and crooked cops Gordon is a refreshing exception. He still refuses to adapt to the rules of Gotham City, still believes in fighting against all evil and still only compromises if absolutely necessary.

Jim Gordon is the closest thing to a dragon-slaying knight Oswald has ever encountered. In a way, he reminds him of the heroes from his childhood fairy-tales.

Deep down, he can’t even blame Jim for his desire to put him behind bars. The mobster is well-aware of the blood on his hands. In Jim Gordon’s eyes, he is a murderer. One who will continue to kill in the future and according to the cop, he needs to be stopped. So yes, maybe he has a soft spot for Gordon.

If he only understood that in a city like Gotham some deaths are absolutely necessary, mere casualties!

But then, Jim wouldn’t be Jim if he started understanding why Oswald does what he does. In this rotten city, he’s still a shining light, a man striving to bring back law and order, blind to the fact that only the king of all crime can guarantee some form of order. That’s just the way Gotham works and nothing will ever be able to change that. This city is simply rancid to its core.

Admitted, Jim’s attempts to save the city are a tad bit endearing. Or would be if they wouldn’t cost Oswald dearly time and time again.

Heaving a deep sigh, the kingpin takes another look at the box beneath his desk. Despite all his flaws, Jim cared quite nicely for Ed. Zsasz has a point there. The question is, would Jim accept to look after the pet? After what he said to him?  Would he put up a fight again when it came to returning Ed?

Oswald doubts Jim would have really refused to give him his pet back. Sometimes the Captain simply acts like a stubborn child in his determination to keep what he loves safe and sound. A trait the mobster understands better than most people. In truth, Oswald wouldn’t have acted differently if their roles had been reversed.

The mobster regrets his harsh words deeply. He really crossed a line that day he shouldn’t have, despite his emotional turmoil. Yet, what better way to apologize than giving someone exactly what he wants? Self-satisfied with his train of thought, Oswald orders Gabe to take him to Gordon’s apartment.

When arriving at Jim’s place, the cop succeeds to surprise the mobster a second time.

Oswald remembers the place being a grimy, untidy mess. Yet when arriving, he finds Jim standing in his door frame, wearing sweatpants, holding a paint-brush and currently renovating his entrance area.

His face drops when the mobster limps closer. Clenching his jaw, he spits out his usual greeting. “Cobblepot.” Oswald wonders how he never fails to make his name sound like an insult.

“Old friend,” he taunts in return, knowing full well how much he despises the phrase.

Dropping the brush, Jim walks into his tiny flat, sure the gangster will follow. When looking around, Oswald notes a couple of major changes. The once almost gray walls are all painted white, the cheap linoleum covering the floor has been ripped out, revealing a rather nice parquet. The biggest improvement though is a big, very comfortable looking, light blue sofa in the living room. The kingpin takes all these changes in at lightning speed, keeping his face politely indifferent the entire time.

Jim follows his gaze towards the sofa. Being the good cop he is, it’s hard to deceive him. “Had to throw the old sofa out after Chester drooling all over it,” he growls but there’s no real heat behind his words.

“Right,” Oswald agrees, wondering what the real reason might be. It’s not like Ed has ever destroyed any furniture at his own home.

Walking into the kitchen, Jim pours himself a glass of water. “Want something?” he grumbles from behind the counter and the mobster wonders if he means some refreshments or the reason for his visit.

Trying his luck, he decides to ask for a cup of tea, almost certain Jim won’t have any at home. Moments later, he hears the sound of water heating up.

“Black tea or fruit tea?” comes the next question, sounding not less hostile. Oswald has to bite his tongue else he’d start lecturing Jim how fruit tea isn’t really tea but an infusion.

“Black,” he answers instead, playing absent-mindedly with his cane. “Two sugars and a dash of milk please.”

The Captain nods, jaw set so tight the mobster fears for him to get a cramp.

“What do you want from me?” Jim asks harshly and once he’s done, he pushes a cup into Oswald’s hands big enough to water an entire palm tree with its contents.

“Why thank you,” he replies smiling brightly. “I can’t recall you ever being so hospitable before.”

The cop grits his teeth. “Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, downing his own glass of water. “I’m only worried you lost your dog again.”

“I really don’t intend letting Ed roam freely a habit,” Oswald chuckles, deciding to try out Jim’s new sofa.

“I only wish that was true,” Jim retorts, rolling his eyes and clearly meaning the human Edward.

“Jim Gordon making a joke, that’s one for the books!” he exclaims, pleased the irritable man is in a somewhat good mood. Of course, Jim doesn’t respond. “Really an improvement,” he praises once he’s settled on the couch.

Heaving a sigh, the cop takes a seat opposite the gangster. “So, what made you decide my first day off in two weeks should be interrupted by your visit?” Jim asks, tapping his foot impatiently, clearly itching to throw the gangster out already.

Oswald’s polite smile never falters despite being slightly irritated by the Captain’s behavior. Can Jim not once be civil? “I simply wanted to thank you for your well-chosen presents. Ed was delighted to have his little frock back. Are you still certain you didn’t name him after me?” The kingpin could bite his tongue. Somehow he has serious troubles not turning everything he says into a jab too.

“He ruined my sofa and turned my life upside down,” Jim scoffs. “Might have reminded me subconsciously about you,” he admits with the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.

“But unlike me, the dog didn’t ruin it?” Oswald scoffs in return.

“Never said you did,” Jim retorts, rendering the gangster speechless for a second.

Hiding his face behind the mug, the Penguin takes another sip from his tea. Trying to decide how to spring his idea at Jim, he finally goes for bluntness. So far, all his attempts to be diplomatic have been an utter waste anyway. “I need a dog-sitter,” he simply admits, trying to assess the other man’s reaction.

As usual, Jim stays stoic before his face gives away his emotions. For whatever reason, he’s utterly unable to control his expressions in front of the mobster. Within seconds, he goes from incredulousness to his usual anger to something Oswald can’t really assess. It might be hope but he isn’t certain.

“Last time I looked I was still a cop,” Jim remarks drily, “not one of your minions.”

“Very true, old friend,” the Penguin acknowledges with a lopsided grin. “Yet one who owes me one or two or maybe thirty-five favors. Not that I keep count,” he finishes, leaning back against the soft cushions.

Mirroring his movement, Jim contradicts him. “If you kept counting, old friend,” he starts, narrowing his eyes at him, “you would have noticed how that isn’t quite true.”

Jim Gordon’s usual self-denial was to be expected yet Oswald can’t help pulling a face. After everything he did, after bringing Sofia to Gotham, after putting him behind bars for crimes he didn’t even commit, after flying a blimp in circles for hours to save their beloved city, he would have expected at least something .

“May I jog your memory then?” he offers, the amiable facade again firmly in place.

“There’s really no need,” the other man growls. “I know what you did for me but clearly you have no concept of what I did in return.”

“So you think taking care of my dog for a week makes us even?” the mobster snaps back incredulously.

Tilting his head, Jim considers the man sitting in front of him. The silence stretches between them for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before the cop speaks again. This time, he’s barely audible.

“I was rather referring to all these times I didn’t put you behind bars when I had the opportunity,” Jim tells him in a gentle voice.

And isn’t that just the height of insolence? Wasn’t the other man happy to send him off to Arkham and throw the keys away for his own benefit? Didn’t he allow for him to get tortured without even batting an eye?

Before Oswald can so much as take a proper breath, Jim already holds up a hand. “I know what you must think,” he says. “But how many times did you stab, shot, or threaten to torture someone directly under my nose? Hmm?”

“You sent me to Arkham!” the mobster blurts out. “Twice! For crimes, I never committed! And you knew !”

“Exactly,” Jim concedes. “You were never insane, though. You would have never been released from Blackgate. And I never claimed otherwise in court.”

Slightly taken aback, the Penguin tries processing the given information. Could it be true? Was sending him to Arkham an act of mercy in Jim’s eyes? Did he rather let him go to this hellish place because he knew he would be released at some point?

Shaking himself mentally, he snaps out of it. Jim has never been soft on him. He set out to destroy his empire and only when realizing that the alternatives were much worse, he let him reign somewhat freely. Only since that ordeal with Sofia, Jim has toned his efforts to drag him to the ground a notch down.

“You ruined my empire,” Penguin accuses. “You ruined the Pax Penguina when it just worked perfectly fine,” he concludes.

“Worked just fine?!” Jim’s voice practically booms through the tiny apartment. Getting up he starts pacing the tiny place, body shaking from barely contained rage.

“You practically declared yourself a God who decides who lives and who dies in Gotham and who becomes the victim of a crime and who doesn’t. Nobody should be allowed to wield that amount of power. Not you, not me, nobody.”

By the end of Jim’s speech, the Penguin is almost certain he’ll grab his lapels and shake him again. Yet he doesn’t. Instead, the cop just looks slightly defeated despite all his anger.

“Why would you need a dog-sitter?” Jim then asks out of nowhere, effectively changing the topic. “Don’t you have an entire army of goons at your disposal to look after Ches-, I mean Edward?”

Turning the cane thoughtfully between his fingers the Penguin nods silently.

“So why come to me?” Jim urges and again Oswald decided honestly would be the best course of action.

“I like knowing who and what I love is safe when I’m away from Gotham,” he sighs. “I don’t need a repetition of what happened to my mother.”

Gordon doesn’t answer right away, just frowns slightly. “I won’t become a co-perpetrator to murder,” he finally decides. “If you want to place Ed into my care only so you can go and stab someone….”

Oswald scoffs. “Please stop painting me as some lunatic serial-killer. That’s frankly insulting.”

The Captain merely rolls his eyes.

“I now and then have to leave Gotham to take care of someone very important to me,” he admits. “And I would rather do so knowing Ed is being well cared for. But I completely understand now that going to you had been a stupid idea.”

Picking up his coat, Oswald turns to leave. “Thank you for your time, Jim,” he tells him, already reaching for the doorknob, cursing when some of the fresh paint stains his sleeve.

“Wait!” the cop mutters. “I never said I wouldn’t do it.”

[shoe-sheriff]

So some friends and I are considering getting a D&D campaign going, and someone else volunteered to be DM, so I get to play a character. Now, I’ve been wanting to play D&D for a few years now and haven’t been able to get my fix, so I immediately start looking at 5th edition books (because I’ve only ever played 4e) and making a character. I landed on a Earth Genasi (from Elemental Evil Player’s Companion) Fighter. Of course, it being me, I also made a way-too-long background for the character.

For the first time in my life, I’d like to share the background publicly immediately after finishing it (I literally just got done like 5 minutes ago). Please, if you read it, let me know what you think. Anything that needs to be changed, added, removed, doesn’t make sense, etc.

My conception came after my parents found an artifact that acted as a gateway to the Elemental Plane, where my biological, dao, father is from. He traversed through the gateway a few months later, seeking to experience all the Material Plane had to offer. He fell for my mother, and tricked her into sex, impregnating her with me. From what I’ve gathered, he was known as Sihu the Powerful, and had a reputation of causing mischief wherever he went. Most of it was harmless, though there was an incident where he crushed a young woman beneath a boulder. After he proceeded to experience many more things throughout the plane, he left, never intending to deal with the consequences of any of his actions.

Being half dao, a quarter human, and a quarter elf, I had quite the culmination of features. My ears were slightly pointed like an elf, broad shoulders like a human, but at the same time more slender than a human. The most curious and out of place feature, however, came from my dao side. I had crystals sprouting from my light gray skin. They formed a pattern following my collar bone and around my hairline on my forehead, with a few outcroppings materializing along my upper arms and legs. Most of the crystals were tourmaline, green dissolving beautifully into pink, though I had a wide variety depending where one looked. I had honey-hued citrine, charoite with magnificent swirls of violet and lavender, and even fiery red opal. My hair was a deep black, with a faint light emanating from it where it was parted. This set me apart from others around me, but because I had beautiful rocks coming out of me, most people looked at me in amazement. I didn’t hate the added attention, but I wasn’t fond of it either, so I did my best to hide them when able.

My early childhood was filled with joy and happiness. My mother and her husband, henceforth referred to as my father, raised both me and my older half-brother. My father came from a reasonably wealthy family, my mother not so much. Together, they managed to raise us into fine members of society. They taught us how to properly value money and be happy with the things we had instead of constantly chasing happiness through the next purchase.

My father was a very experienced woodsman, regularly taking us on hikes and camping expeditions. He worked his days as a tradesman, dabbling in woodworking, metalworking, construction, and fishing. There were not many tradesmen in our town, thus he sought to make himself as valuable as he could to his community. He strived to give to his community as much as he could, while only accepting small payments for his work.

My mother worked as one of the town’s clerics, healing the wounded and spreading divine light across every shadow she encountered. Sadly, her healing magics and devotion to the lawful good divines did nothing to prevent her own illnesses. Several times throughout my childhood, she was plagued by a recurring sickness. After each bout, a different High Priest declared that the sickness would not return, only for it to do just that, poisoning her body and draining her life force more efficiently each time. The scars left by the illness covered her body, the most recent one ripping her stomach from this plane. She gave up her devotion, realizing that the divines would not help her. To everyone’s amazement, however, even through her pain and suffering, she never gave up her dedication to healing others and spreading the most beautiful light imaginable, no matter the willingness of the dark to overcome.

My brother, being older than myself and of a different race, grew up being bold and carefree. From him, I learned more about what not to do than what to do. He was caught several times sneaking out of our home to cause mischief with his friends. When he grew just old enough to be considered self-sufficient, my parents exiled him from the home, not wanting him to influence my actions. They remained supportive of him where they could, offering to pay for expenses he could not or gifting him furniture for his home. My grandparents, from my father’s side, even gave him (and myself) a large sum of coin, under the agreement that we use it to pursue a higher education or to start our own business, before using anything left over as we saw fit. We both used this to pursue a higher education. I sought to learn a series of trades, as my father did, learning the basics from him, applying that to my education, and then bringing everything together again with my father. My brother yearned to study and practice the Arcane arts, wishing to use the knowledge to provide responsible magics for the town’s benefit. Most of the way through his education, however, he had a child and was forced to put aside his education to take care of his daughter. He never went back to finish, unfortunately.

While working on my education, I had decided to learn Primordial, should I ever meet with Sihu or any genie who knew of him. I finished my education and began to make a name for myself as a learned tradesperson, creating great works and teaching even other apprentice tradespeople when they visited the town. My father retired after a year of my entrance to the trades, tired of working all day and knowing I had surpassed him in ability, due to my young, sturdy body, and thanks to the particular form of crafting I had learned, utilizing newer advancements and techniques. Though I loved what I did, especially the smile and gratitude I received from those I served, something always felt out of place. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was wrong, until roughly six years ago when I realized that I felt a part of myself was missing, having gone unrecognized.

For four years, I tried to find that part of myself and become a fuller being. I began to meditate, experience nature more fully and regularly, and used various herbs to seek that which evaded me my whole life. I felt like I had grown much, but that I was still unable to find my true self. Fearing that it may have been due to the fact that I felt obligated to not grow too far from who everyone around me knew me as, I decided to leave town. I spent many months training others to take my place as the town’s tradespersons, until I felt the town was in excellent hands. I set off to seek enlightenment of some kind, unsure of where I was headed or what lay ahead. I may return one day, though I am not sure that would be healthy for me.

Traveling for close to 9 moons, I was starting to feel fuller and more complete. I had decided not long after leaving town, that I would change my name from what the Half-Elves called me. I had been hiding from my dao ancestry my whole life, but no more. I am an Earth Genasi, and I have never been more proud of it. I stopped hiding the crystals that grew from my skin, eventually turning to them as the source of my name: Tourmaline. It was around that time that I met with a tribe of outcasts, mostly consisting of Orcs. They were not welcome in their former homes for being too calm and peaceful. They sought to live a grand life with compassion to all beings and the world itself, focusing on improving oneself to live in harmony with that which is around them. Most of them were from the same clan, but there were some like me who happened by and decided to join their tribe and follow their path.

They taught me to hunt, scavenge, and survive with the land. With them, I visited marvelous new areas and saw beautiful landscapes. To me, they were a new family, one with similar views as my own. For the remainder of two years, I had stuck by their side, using my skills in woodworking to construct whatever we needed, and a few things just for fun, like a lute. A couple of them taught me to play, and we formed a sort of band, playing for the tribe most nights, a celebration of life and our vision. We welcomed a handful of new members and wished old ones a safe journey as they departed for the next chapter of their lives. Nobody was made to feel left out or unwanted, and they were welcome to stay as long as they felt comfortable.

On the way back from a meditation session, I found the camp utterly destroyed. Bloodstained, torn tents flapped in the wind, and the bodies of most of my family lay on the ground, motionless. For weeks, I grieved for them, unable to bring myself to leave the camp, unsure of what I should do. One night, they appeared to me in a dream. I came out of my tent and they were dancing and drinking, merry as ever. When they saw me fall to my knees crying, they rushed over to comfort me. When I finally got a hold of myself, they sat down with me around the campfire and listened to me express how sorry I was that I wasn’t there to help or at least die with them in honor. The two who had been in the tribe longer than I put their hands on my shoulder and lowered their heads. They spoke to me without words, their voices thundering in my head as one. “The time for grieving has been over for some time now. You could not have known, thus it is not a worry you should burden yourself with any longer.” Their unified words of wisdom brought some calm to my nerves, but I still felt like I had been defeated. “The fact that any member of our tribe is still alive is a miracle, and miracles are rarely without purpose. There are others who need you, and a greater destiny which calls your name, Tourmaline. Go now, and bring honor to our tribe. Through memory, we will stay immortal.”

The next morning, as I awoke, I heeded their words. I put on my traveling clothes, gathered some chain mail, a greatsword, trident, and what else I could reasonably carry, and started walking. I didn’t know what destiny I was to fulfill, but I knew I had to make sure the tribe, nor their vision for a more harmonious world, wouldn’t be forgotten.