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zegrasdrysdale · 1 year ago

Note

can we now have a fic when the test says positive? <33

[ plus sign ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) surprises Jamie with a present that will change his life after he gets home from a game

warning(s) : mentions of sex but no actual sex, pregnancy

author’s note : i am really just fueling the baby fever i have had for days at this point. self indulging i guess. anyway, enjoy :) (this isn't a second part to "not our time" btw bc this request came in after i posted that)

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She noticed the first red flag that morning when she and Jamie were fooling around before he left for his game. He gave her breast a light squeeze and it hurt when it usually feels good. She blamed it on the fact that she was probably about to start her period.

That's when she noticed the unopened box of tampons in the cabinet under the sink when she went to pee after they were done in bed.

Her stomach dropped when she did quick math and realized that she hasn't had her period for nearly two months. She needed to go to the store as soon as possible and get some pregnancy tests.

Which has all led up to (Y/N) sitting on the floor against the door as she waits for the results of the two pregnancy tests on the counter next to the sink. Her phone counts down beside her and the closer the time gets to zero, the bigger the knot grows in her stomach.

Yes, she wants a baby. She loves kids. Every time she sees her nieces and nephews, she can't wait to have her own.

She doesn't want to give Jamie a baby he might not even want right now. He's still trying to prove himself as a top defenseman on the Ducks after injuries have sidelined him for months and he may not want the extra stress of having a child.

They haven't even really talked about having kids because it's been less than a year since they went from a friends-with-benefits thing to an actual relationship. She loves him, but she doesn't want to trap him with something he may not even want or need at the moment.

The alarm on her phone goes off after five minutes. She wanted to give the tests enough time for clear results, just in case.

With a shaky sigh, (Y/N) pushes herself up off the ground. She shuts her eyes and gnaws on her lower lip, unsure of what she wants.

She doesn't know which result she'll be happier with. A lot comes with either result.

If it's positive, their lives are going to change. Even if Jamie doesn't want anything to do with the baby, she won't get rid of it. She can't. She'd feel so guilty.

If it's negative, she'll probably be devastated. Maybe she and Jamie aren't ready for a baby but she'll still love them with everything in her. She's in love with the baby and she doesn't even know if she's actually pregnant yet or not.

To rip the bandage off, she opens her eyes and looks immediately at the tests in front of her as she exhales.

'+' stares her in the face.

Twice. There are four lines between both tests on the counter.

A gasp falls from her lips and her hand flies up to her mouth. Her free hand picks up one of the tests to get a closer look at it.

It's positive. They're both positive. There's no doubt about it with how dark those lines are on those tests.

She's going to have a baby. Tears fill her eyes as soon as the realization hits her and a quiet sob passes her lips. A part of her and Jamie is growing in her belly right now.

Her hand falls down to her belly and rubs it a few times. Her face hurts and she realizes that she has the biggest smile on her lips, and probably has since she saw the result of the test.

Jamie. He doesn't even know that she had all those realizations that prompted her to get tests in the first place. He has no idea that she even bought the tests.

Quickly, she throws on her Ducks jersey and a Ducks hockey beanie. She wasn't going to go to the game because of how bad she felt but she wants Jamie to know as soon as possible. This is a piece of him. They made this baby together.

She throws one of the positive tests in a little gift bag to act like it's a gift before she gets in the Uber she called. (Y/N) doesn't trust herself to drive a car with how badly her hands are shaking.

There is two hours before the game starts so Jamie is probably in the gym with the rest of the guys to get their pregame workout in. All the staff looks at her with a confused look on their face as she makes her way to the team gym.

The security guard stops her from walking in. "Sorry, miss," he says. "No one is allowed in the gym while the team is in there. Can I get someone for you?"

"Can you just tell Jamie Drysdale to meet me in the team lounge area so I can give something to him?" she requests. "If it's not too much trouble. Tell him his girlfriend is looking for him."

He nods and heads into the gym. (Y/N) spins on her heels and heads down the hallway to the team lounge room.

It smells like men in the room. She quickly comes to the conclusion that the family lounge room smells so much better. At least it doesn't smell like twenty plus sweaty men.

She paces for a second before the door opens and a very sweaty Jamie walks into the room. "Baby, hey," Jamie greets her. "What's going on? Is everything okay? You've never interrupted the team workout before."

(Y/N) holds out the little gift bag. "I have something for you," she tells him. "Um, it can't wait or I would've waited until after the game. It'll be worth it, I think."

Hesitantly, Jamie reaches out and takes it. She watches as he pulls it open. She's super nervous about the reaction that Jamie will have as soon as he sees what it's the bag.

At first, he looks confused. Then he reaches into the bag and pulls out the positive test. He squints at it then his eyes widen. He looks up at her and asks, "You're pregnant?"

"Yeah," she breathes out. "After this morning, I went out and bought a few tests because it normally doesn't hurt when you squeeze my boob. Then I realized it's been over two months since I last had a period so-"

She's cut off by Jamie pulling her into his arms and picking her up. "We're going to have a baby," he says. Happiness and excitement is in his voice. He doesn't sound angry or worried. "We're really going to have a baby."

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his neck. He puts her down softly and she looks up at him. "Now you see why it couldn't wait," she comments. "I was really excited to tell you because they're a part of you too."

The happiness on Jamie's very sweaty face brings tears to her eyes. "Oh my God, (Y/N)," Jamie laughs as he cups her jaw. "You don't have to cry. I'm so happy. I'm ecstatic, baby. I can't wait to meet them. I'm going to love the shit out of this baby because they're a part of you."

(Y/N) laughs and Jamie dries the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. "I love you, Jamie," she tells him. "I can't wait to raise this baby with you. You're going to be the best father."

"They better come to every game with you as soon as they come out of you," Jamie says. "I want to brag to all my teammates that I have the cutest baby in the world."

She smiles and hugs Jamie. He wraps his arms around her for a quick second before he sinks down to his knees. He glances up at (Y/N) for a second and whispers to her belly, "Hi in there. This is your daddy. I can't wait to meet you. Your mom is the most amazing woman in the world and she's going to rock at being a mommy."

Her fingers run through his disgustingly sweaty hair. "Can we celebrate when we go home?" she asks. "After you have had a shower because your hair is disgusting, baby."

"Sorry, sorry," he laughs as he gets off his knees. "I'm just excited. I can't wait." There are voices in the hallway, which means the team is done in the gym. "I have to go get ready but I'll see you during the warm ups, right?" He leans down and pecks her lips,

"Absolutely," she replies. "Go score me a goal tonight."

"One for both of you."

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yourusername

liked by anaheimducks, trevorzegras and 20,392 others

yourusername baby girl drysdale coming in spring 2024 ♡

view all 3,287 comments

masonmctavish23 i'm gonna be an aunt !

tterry19 i don't think that's how that works bud masonmctavish23 oh well

anaheimducks We can't wait to meet baby girl Drysdale!

yourusername <3

trevorzegras oh i am so going to be the uncle that brings your daughter ice cream when you tell me no. that baby is going to be so spoiled

jamie.drysdale going to be the best mama <3

yourusername gonna be the best daddy. baby girl is so lucky to have you as her dad

leocarlssoon looks like there's another rookie joining us this year

nhl Congratulations Jamie and (Y/N)!

frank_vatrano this secret was getting so hard to hold. congratulations tho

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MASTERLIST

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taglist : @fanboysfangirl @dancerbailey3

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale fluff

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mercurygray · 4 days ago

Text

Every Berry On The Branch

Decided we all needed a tiny bit of holiday fun. And I even got it done before the holiday! Merry Christmas, one and all.

She'd forgotten that boys would be boys.

Marion was standing well out of the way of the Christmas party currently getting underway in the Aero Club, hanging in the back of the room only for the off chance that someone (army or civilian) might need an adult. She thought the chances slim - Freda Torvaldsen and Mary Boyle were both extremely capable when it came to children, but still - there was always a chance.

Someone had asked to do something for the locals, and this was the result - an afternoon of wild luxury for the children, after four years of rationing and rather threadbare Christmases. There would be games to play and prizes to win, and after all of that an opportunity to sit on Santa's lap and tell him, in whisper or in shout, what it was they wanted for Christmas. Their mothers were arrayed around the edges of the room, sipping on soft punch and admiring the state of the Aero Club's drapes, and their older sisters ere murmuring amongst themselves about what they would wear to the dance later - and which of the airmen they'd try to dance with while they did it.

She was glad they had found a way to make it work. Having the children here was good for the boys - to be reminded that there was still goodness in the world- still laughter. It had been a hard two months, since Munster - harder than most. So here she was, at the back of the Aero Club, leaning in the doorway - and suddenly behind her someone was clearing his throat like he needed something.

"Yes, Blakely?"

The tall airman pointed up at the door frame, an expectant smile on his face. "A kiss for luck, Captain? It is Christmas."

Marion glanced up and saw where she was standing - underneath a sprig of mistletoe that some enterprising soul had tacked up to the doorframe. Boys. "Oh, very well. Just one - and mind you're careful with it, Captain," she added, wisely. "I wouldn't like to write to Mrs. Blakely that you're misbehaving."

"Never, ma'am." Blakely's lips barely brushed her cheek - a kiss for mothers and maiden aunts that nonetheless made her feel in some small way admired. "Merry Christmas." His eye caught sight of someone else behind Marion and he quickly drew back to a safe distance. "Major Bowman."

"If you're going to ask me the same question, Blakely, I'm going to remind you to think again," Bowman said strongly, glaring with little hidden impatience at the younger officer. Blakely, suitably chastened, made a quick exit back to Tatty and the rest, who were in the middle of a very loud game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

"Damn fools," Red growled, glancing up at the greenery in the door above him as though he fully expected it to catch on fire. "Someone hung some in the office earlier this week and I had to give a lecture to everyone on how they weren't off the clock until four today. You'd better move or there'll be more of that all night."

"They're young, Red. They're allowed some fun." After where they've been, and what they've lost, they're allowed to remember what they still have.

That was the thing about Christmas, wasn't it - the grief inside with the joy? There would be no empty chairs as such at the party table this evening, but there were empty spaces all the same. Marion had heard a wild whoop in the corner earlier and turned half-expecting to see Major Egan taking part in some game with a bunch of children half his size - but Bucky Egan was not here, and doubtless not playing any Christmas pranks where he was at present. (It was a small mercy - but a prisoner of war was better news than a pine box.) There were too many names and too many faces that Marion would have liked to see, and couldn't - and too many letters home to too many parents informing them that their Christmas parcels would be returned unopened, that their sons would not be home, this Christmas or any other.

Bowman scowled, but said nothing. "So what part did they give you to play in this nonsense?"

"None whatsoever," Marion reported with a smile. "Mary and Fred have the whole thing well in hand, and Anita and Mae have instructions to help pass out the presents from Santa. I think I'm only meant to be the referee in case anyone needs me."

"Yes, where is Santa?" Bowman asked, looking around for the man in question. "Half-expected him to be here already, the way he's been going on."

"I think he's been given instructions to hang back until the games are over," Marion said. "I also have it on good authority Ken's being given out as his chief elf and flight engineer, so if you see him, I'm sure the man himself isn't far behind."

"His flight engineer," Bowman repeated incredulously. "Someone spent too much time on this."

"I'm sure someone needs to keep that sleigh in working order," she said fairly. "And Ken volunteered." This piece of information did not seem to help Red's opinion on the matter, and Marion decided to put it to him another way. "They needed something to look forward to, Red." And if that means that Ken Lemmons puts on a little vest and hat and pretends for a crowd of children that he fixes Santa's sleigh, then we just have to give that to him.

And if that means your commanding officer wants to dress up and put on a fake beard to make children smile, you'll give him that too.

Bowman could see he was winning no battles with this, and turned to leave. "Will we see you later?" Marion asked, trying to see if she might make lemonade out of Bowman's lemons. "There could be a dance in it for you, if you like." You're entitled to a little rest, too, you know, Red.

She wasn't sure if that would be punishing or enticing, but he did at least pause and give the idea a moment. "We'll see," he said, and she let it be.

The game was winding down - all the tails had been pinned, and Marion could just see Ken's face at the doors to the Aero club, peeking in the windows to see if the coast was clear. Over the heads of the children Mary gave him a nod, and Ken eased the door open so the guest of honor could arrive, a huge burlap sack over one shoulder and his hat only just covering hair that wasn't even close to turning gray, let alone white.

"Ho ho ho! Who's been good this year?"

Harding's Santa costume was not going to win any prizes for the picturesque. Short on red fabric, Mary Boyle had been unable to make him the usual and customary red coat, so they'd settled instead for the traditional hat, a red sweater with a pillow stuffed in for effect, and Neil's A2 jacket, the name tape carefully removed and "S. Claus" artfully burnished into a new piece of leather. Mary and Fred had slaved over a fake beard, which looked almost realistic when it sat properly on his face, and the man inside all of this was having far too much fun sitting down on his throne, setting down his sack, and waiting for the electric throng of youngsters to settle a little so they might see what sort of gifts he had brought.

The presents weren't much - a whole crew of volunteers had spent their free hours wrapping a pile of oranges and chocolates into little bundles, fragrant with the memories of Christmases gone by. (Marion had watched Fred counting oranges against a guest list, making sure they had some spare for the parents as well as the children.)

"Doing all right there, Fred?" Marion asked, as the blonde woman dashed across the room to get something out of the kitchen.

"Just fine, Captain Brennan, thanks," the Red Cross girl announced with a breathless smile. "He's really hamming it up," she said, looking back at Harding with little-hidden amusement.

"He's been very excited this week," Marion confirmed. "This is good for them, I think - and for him." She paused and asked a question she was quite sure she already knew the answer to. "Do you get a little break, between this and the dance tonight? All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl."

"I don't mind it," Fred said with a shrug. "Gives everyone else a chance to have some fun."

Yes, but you're entitled to a little fun yourself. And I think I know why you're going without it, too, Marion thought to herself. "Have you heard at all from…Captain Brady?"

She knew it was, perhaps, a dangerous question. Red Cross girls weren't supposed to have favorites, but anyone with eyes could have seen that John Brady was sweet on the clubmobiler - and that Fred was sweet back. The camp band wasn't quite the same without one of their star clarinetists, and it would probably take a great deal to get his favorite duet partner back on stage to perform without him. Fred nodded, her smile a little bit more fixed on now. "Had a postcard. He's cold, and hungry, mainly. Doesn't look like they'll have much of a Christmas. But he's alive," she said, almost reminding herself of the fact. "And that's all the gift I want."

"It's good you're writing to him," Marion assured the younger woman. "They need that - especially at Christmas." Fred nodded in agreement in a way that seemed to consider the matter closed, and Marion let her have her silence. "I think Mary said you'll send him back this way, when he's done?" she asked, changing the subject. "Happy to watch the door for you when he does."

"Thanks, Captain, that'd be great," Fred said, clearly moving forward. "And…thanks," she added with a pause, looking the older woman square in the eye, only a little guilty. Marion gave her a smile and let her go back the way she had come, watching as Fred paused for a moment to take a breath and fix her face back on as she went to help wrap up the rest of the line to see Santa and get him on his way. "Now, come on you all, Santa's very busy, and I heard Ken say he's finished fixing the sleigh. If we don't let him leave now Lieutenant Callaway can't hold the flight pattern any longer!"

Santa gathered up his sack and gave a few more ho-ho-hos, and trampled off through the club in Marion's general direction, letting her hold the door open for him while the children made noises of disappointment and their mothers started looking for their coats.

"Well, that went well, I think," Neil announced, pulling his beard down once the door was closed and grinning as he pulled the pillow out from under his sweater. "Hotter than blazes under that beard, though. I thought I was going to sweat it off my ears."

"You did very well," Marion reported with a smile. "I don't know who was having more fun, them or you."

"I think I missed someone, though. What does Captain Brennan want for Christmas?" Neil asked, gathering her up into his arms in a way. "I hear she's been a very good girl this year."

Marion held back a disapproving smile. "Nothing at all," she said, though she made no attempt to move out of his arms.

"Nothing?" Neil was still grinning, his hands very possessive over her waist. "Box of chocolates? New nightgown? Not a single thing from Santa?" She shook her head, still smiling. "How about a kiss, then?" He asked, pulling a spray of mistletoe out of the pocket of his coat.

"Don't tell me it was you who put that up in the office," Marion said, finally putting two and two together. "Red already gave the staff the riot act."

"Well, someone's got to have a little fun around here," Neil announced, taking a few steps back towards the office desk and sitting down on its edge, spreading his legs a little so she might stand between them. "Now, how long do we have until that dance starts? It's a kiss for every berry on the branch," he purred in her ear, "And I wasn't going to let Ev Blakely be the only one telling you you're worth asking for a kiss."

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #masters of the air OC #masters of the air x oc #marion brennan #chick harding x oc #mota oc #freda torvaldsen

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zzcrypticcoyotezz · 5 months ago

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random jp headcanons lets gooo

gonna have lots of alan stuff because i have like. a whole backstory for him lol. he just like me fr so i get to make him trans and autistic.

this is mostly for before the events of JP1 and right after. ian doesn't know he's nonbinary yet. doesn't know until probably... after jp2 i think, when his books become more popular. so i'm gonna be referring to him as a man in this post. (see my post about my nonbinary/genderfluid ian headcanon if ur confused)

- ian makes jewelery as a hobby in his spare time. made his turquoise necklace himself. LOVES turquoise.

- ellie has a houseplant addiction. don't ever send her to home depot, she WILL rescue all of the succulents. and once they're healthy, she gifts them to her friends. alan complains and insists he can't take care of a plant, that he doesn't have a green thumb, that he would somehow kill it accidentally within a month. but every time ellie stops by his trailer to come and visit, she notices that little plant thriving, for years.

- alan hyperfocuses so much on his work that he often forgets about everything around him. he could sit in the dirt for hours without end picking at fossilized bones, scrutinizing every tiny detail. at least he remembers to stay hydrated, though, always has his water bottle with him. dehydration is no joke, kids! especially out in the desert!

- alan was raised in a rural christian family. they never understood him or any of his interests. in high school, he had a very kind geology teacher who happened to be gay. he helped alan figure out his identity and get into college to become a paleontologist. alan's parents ended up kicking him out on the morning of his 18th birthday, since he just couldn't be the perfect christian daughter they wanted. without the support of his teacher, alan would've never won a college grant, and he would've been homeless. alan truly put everything into his career. every single time alan tried to write a letter home to his parents, it would be returned unopened, so he had to give up. alan started testosterone at 20 years old, it took him two years to find a doctor willing to help.

- alan and ellie met in college. alan was already a few years into his studies by the time ellie got in. alan had never had very many friends in his life, he tended to keep to himself and work alone. ellie's persistence eventually paid off, and after an expedition to the hell creek formation with the rest of their class, he was impressed with her knowledge of mesozoic plant life, and they became good friends.

- a couple years into their friendship, they realized they both have feelings for each other. alan comes out to ellie, terrified she'll leave him, but she doesn't. she doesn't understand at first, but she tries to, and she does her research (she LOVES researching things). she ends up helping alan a lot, making him a couple of proper binders (no more bandages or tape!) and helps him do his testosterone shots.

- they've dated on and off for a long time before the events of JP1. however, the traumatic events of isla nublar were just too much and put a significant strain on their relationship. their feelings for each other never went away, but ellie just couldn't do dinosaurs anymore, after all she went through. she felt she needed normalcy, but alan is alan and he wouldn't be himself without dinosaurs. so they mutually called it off. and she also always wanted to be a mom. and alan insisted he couldn't, he could never provide her what she wanted. yes, there's other ways to conceive, but it's deeper than that. deep down, he was afraid of turning out like his own father. heartbroken, he had to tell ellie to move on and find someone better for herself. after she began dating mark, alan became distant and isolated himself.

- before ian came into the picture, the only person alan had ever dated was ellie. alan's old fashioned, he never thought that someone like him could also like men too. he'd always distanced himself from anything 'queer', more for his own safety than anything else. but he also struggled a lot with internalized homophobia and transphobia. he thought it was a sign of femininity and pushed aside his attraction to ian for a very long time.

- alan is definitely an unsafe binder. he would often just forget he's wearing it while he's out on a digsite. when ellie's around, she would often have to remind him to take breaks. but when it's just himself, he's stubborn (and extremely dysphoric) so he usually forces himself to power through the whole day, ignoring the discomfort. it's easy to ignore when you're uncovering the remains of long extinct animals.

- thanks to his digsite getting enough funding from hammond, alan finally manages to save enough money to get top surgery about a year after the events of jurassic park. ellie takes time off to help him through recovery, but after that, they unfortunately become distant again. he tells ian he's recovering from carpal tunnel surgery. ian knows he's not telling the full truth, alan is very easy to read, but he doesn't press for more, respecting the man's privacy.

- and yes, this means he was binding almost the entire time while on isla nublar. he was in survival mode, only focused on his own safety and lex and tims', and absolutely nobody could know he's trans, so his stubborn ass powered through it, adrenaline blurring any pain. by the time everyone was rescued and off the island, it turned out that alan had bruised and cracked his ribs.

- for a month after the isla nublar incident, alan and ellie stayed with ian, helping him through the worst of the healing process. there was no way they would leave him alone after such a horrific, life-changing leg injury. it was difficult for alan, juggling a sexuality crisis and having to hide his, well, transness, in another man's household, the same man who caused this sexuality crisis, but he made it work. the memory of that time is a huge blur to ian anyways thanks to the pain meds. during this time, the three began to feel something more for each other, but it remained unspoken. alan doesn't even know that there's anything other than monogamy. unfortunately in my headcanon dinot3 doesn't become real until dominion 💔 i'm a slut for slowburns lmfao

okay, this is all i'm gonna write for now! i'd love to hear anybody's thoughts on these. i love these bitches sm they live in my head rent free. honestly i've been tempted to like... make a fanfic rewriting jp1 but with my headcanons, but that's too much work and i have a very bad habit of starting projects and never finishing them 💀 so probably not gonna happen. it's also very difficult trying to find any resources about how life was like for trans men back in the 80s/90s.

#jurassic park #jurassic world #jurassic park trilogy #jurassic park franchise #jurassic park fanfic #jurassic park fandom #jurassic series #headcanon #headcanons #dinot3 #alan grant #ellie sattler #ian malcolm #trans headcanon #trans alan grant

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hymouse · 10 months ago

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Obey Me! Reaper Headcanons Pt 1

I feel like there's a lot of prime world building here that didn't get it's due, so this is less about Thirteen and more about Reapers in general.

If you want more: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Reapers have been around as long as angels and demons, but they're too scattered and too few to function as a full faction.

The oldest reaper, Grimm, has served as a neutral party for nearly every conflict between angels and demons since time in memoriam. He's an old man that likes to eat your snacks and will put you in your place before you get the chance to regret your actions.

Yes Grimm. You think value of Grimm (the money) is based off of the love and trust of demonkind everywhere? Nah, it's based off of the soul standard, an exchange rate that is primarily controlled by the reapers.

1 soul = ????? Grimm, depends on the soul

Canonically reapers are described to be 'anti-social', and for good reason. Reaping requires a lot of traveling, and particularly valuable souls will spawn lots of competition.

It's not unheard of for reapers to partner up with a human for a common goal. Humans are crafty, adaptable things, and it'd be a shame to let all of that revenge-energy go to waste.

Reapers often specialize in the type of souls they reap. Humans pose the least threat and are typically seen as low-hanging fruit. Typically their souls aren't of much value to a reaper and are quickly traded off to a demon or angel in exchange for supplies or favors.

Demons, sorcerers, and witches are a huge mixed-bag both in the value of their souls, but also how hard it is to reap them. Traps are good for low to mid level ones, but greater demons and powerful sorcerers require more finesse and time.

Demons, angels, and sorcerers/witches 100% use reapers as hitmen. Need a greater demon of pride's soul for a spell? Get yourself a reaper. Desperate to get out of a pact with some lowly witch? Ring ring ring reaper time, just be ready to pay up.

Angels aren't above getting a reaper to do their dirty work but are known for forcing tough/bad bargains, thus Thirteen's distaste of the celestial realm. At worst petty grudges, rivalries, and grudges between angels will often result in reapers being forced to reap human souls before their time. At their best, angels will sic reapers onto particularly thorny demons.

I've got more but this is looking like a wall and I'm more interesting in opening the doors of possibility left carelessly unopened by Solmare.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#omswd #obey me headcanons #obey me reapers #om! shall we date #imma be that person yelling about something no one cares about

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artyandink · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where they both act like they are dating (pet names, sleeping in the same bed after Bad missions, just doing small affectionate things) but nothing is confirmed and then kipps asks reader out and lockwood steps in. At home they had a heated argument & confession and maybe make out?

LABELS AREN'T MEANT FOR US (YET)

Lockwood and I never like to put labels. They make everything definitive and unopen for interpretation. Amirite or amirite?

"Leila, love, it's 9 am." Lockwood himself reached out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear, making me giggle and slap his hand away. "So I take it you had a good sleep, then?"

"Just peachy, darling. You make me feel better after those bad missions." I grinned, and got a kiss on the forehead in return.

"Well, George may be making breakfast round about now, and you know how he is about timings."

"Oh, yes, the timings." I got out of bed, quickly combing my hair while he threw on the business clothes he wore that showed off his toned physique. The shirt did, and the jacket polished off the look.

"I swear, you two should be dating already." Lucy tutted. "Listen to fate, please."

"We don't put such labels on our relationship, Lucy, they're too definitive. Besides, Lockwood and I are friends." But I truly did want to be something more, yet I'd contradict my own words if I did. Oh, this world is too confusing.

"Exactly what Leilani said. Now, hop off to breakfast, we'll be down there in a minute." Lockwood cut in, saving me. I smiled at him, tucking the other strand of hair behind my ear and then twisted a strand of my raven-coloured hair around my finger and let it drop. "Absurd, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

George and Lucy kept pointing out things that set me and Lockwood apart from being normal couples. The way we look at each other, how we always work together, we light up in each others presence, the usual rom com malarkey. But we'd gotten into the habit of keeping our hands near each other, pinky fingers intertwined as if we'd float away if we'd let go. Nobody really knows why Lockwood and I are so close.

That is with the exception of the two concerned.

Long story long, Lockwood and I first made eye contact shortly after his parents died because he was put in the house next door. We'd go on playdates all the time, we trained together and even though he was a better fencing prodigy than I was, I supported him all the way. He was brilliant. Clever with his words as much as his brain, athletic yet packed with technique, the whole package. Then one fateful day he pitched the idea of an agency to me, and me being the reckless soul I was, I agreed, henceforth starting Lockwood and Co because it sounded better and cooler than Yaris and Co. I was there for him during the struggle of being orphaned at a young age and he was there for me when I lost mine to a car crash. We were as thick as thieves...

Even though every day I wanted to be more than that.

THAT VERY EVENING:

"Evening, Laila." Lockwood greeted, starting to write on the tablecloth.

"Hey, Lockwood. Figuring out the case of the Lipton Street wraith?"

"Yeah. I got a lot closer thanks to your clue."

“Yeah, what can I say, darling? I’m good at this stuff.”

“I know, love, that’s why I ask you.” Our fingers intertwined, looking at each other for a second. I felt truly safe with Lockwood. I couldn’t explain it, really. All I could say about it was that he was like my only vice when things went wrong, the one to hold me after a bad case or the person who’d just protect me anyway, acting as a shield between me and the dangers out to get me.

I remember the countless times he’d put himself in critical danger for me, jumping in front of an advancing ghost or distracting it when he had nowhere else to go. In that moment I felt it was the other way around, and I couldn’t help but rise to the occasion.

“I’m going out to meet Flo later, at around 6. We’re going over the details of me acting as her intermediary.” He told me, and I nodded in response. Flo was our good friend. She was an amazing person as well, so no wonder she became the only relic girl in the world.

“I’m going out with George at the same time. We’re grabbing pizza.” I informed, absentmindedly writing something down until I realised what it was.

I love you, Anthony Lockwood.

I covered it up urgently, awaiting his reply.

“Which pizza place are you going to?”

“Pizza Hut.”

“Enjoy your pizza.”

“Enjoy your time being an intermediary.”

“Why does that feel like you’re throwing intense shade on me?”

“No!”

“Come here, you little monkey!” I tried to run, but he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his chest, starting to tickle my sides.

“Please- no - Anthony - stop- please!” I giggled, breaking down into hysterical laughter in between words.

“Never!”

“I swear, if you two aren’t dating already, I am opening a court case.” George interrupted, holding a mop.

“Labels are definitive. Aka it’s not for us. Which means that we’re not dating.” We chorused in unison. It became habit for us, really. Barnes said it, Lucy said it, and now George did.

“But you obviously like each other.” He folded his arms, blinking. “Leila, your talent is touch, just touch one of his belongings, see his memories.” My sense was touch, and it’s the most dangerous talent, and for some reason mine extends beyond normal capabilities. If I want to, I can see someone’s memories, even if they’re living, by touching one of their belongings. But no. I respect boundaries.

“No. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, I’m not intrusive.”

“George, we don’t like each other. I love her like she’s my best friend, almost a sister, but nothing more.” We both went our separate ways, but what Lockwood said kind of hurt me.

His best friend. Almost a sister.

I guess that’s what I was to him.

“Anyway, I’m gonna have to cancel on the pizza. There’s some research I need to do. Is that ok, Leila?”

I nodded, fighting back the visible despair. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go on a walk myself.” I pulled on my jacket, clipping my rapier to my belt and leaving the house to go on a quick walk.

“Hey, Leilani Carson, isn’t it?” I turned to see Quill Kipps, standing there nervously.

“Yeah. What d’you want, Kipps?” I asked more with more hostility than I’d usually use to ask someone a question.

“I was in the area, and I saw you were lonely and could use some company. You know, just as someone to talk to.” I’d known Quill Kipps since a young age. And I knew as much as he could be rude and stuck up, he could be genuine. Perhaps he was just being genuine.

“Sure, I’d like that.” We started walking side by side together, and the first thing I heard nearly made me have a heart attack.

“I’m sorry for any anger I may have caused you ever since we met. It isn’t justified, especially if it’s how Tony and I had disagreements.” He looked solemn, and I knew that this was genuine, because it was clear. If Kipps could be anything, it’s a window. You can see through him clearly.

“I mean, you’re not the first person to dislike Lockwood. You just prove it every time you see him.” I shrugged. “He’s temperamental, so I don’t blame you. One second he thinks the world of you and the next you’re just a sister to him or he hates you with a burning passion.”

“Did he do that to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh… I’m really sorry. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Do I not?”

“No. You’re a good person-”

“There are lurkers on either side of us.” I warned, taking out my rapier and spare flares. Kipps did the same, both of us going back to back.

“Lucky we both came out here together, eh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We’d finished off the lurkers, plus a couple of shadow phantoms, and Kipps offered to drop me home. I reached the door after a lengthy conversation about what we liked and our hobbies, how we ended up where we are, so I realised that he really wasn’t that bad. Kipps wasn’t as bad a person as Lockwood painted him to be.

“Thank you, Kipps, I really had a lot of fun today.” I smiled, standing on my tiptoes and pecking him on the cheek. Ascending up the steps, my hand was on the doorknob when Kipps called out again.

“Leila!” I turned around, bemused, “Would you fancy going out for a coffee tomorrow morning?”

I grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Kipps, I-“

“Am not interested.” Lockwood had opened the door, standing there with his jaw ticked and physicality set in an intimidating way. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Kipps, but you’re not bagging my colleague for your private collection of gems. Terrible day to you.” He pulled me inside and shut the door, turning to me, livid. “What were you doing with Quill bloody Kipps?”

“Oh, I dunno, having fun? I was alone, he was alone, we were walking and talking together! We also had to fight off lurkers and shadow phantoms, so I’m glad he was with me!” I retorted, hanging up my jacket and putting my rapier back. “And what the hell was that for?! ‘Bagging my colleague’?! ‘Private collection of gems’?!”

“Kipps isn’t someone you should trust. He could be using you.”

“If Kipps is one thing you aren’t, Anthony bloody Lockwood, then it’s easy to read!” I yelled, storming into the living room with him after me. “He was genuinely interested in me, and I wanted to go out to have coffee with him!”

“You don’t know him like I know him!”

“I know him better than you know him!” I yelled, our voices rising. “Not everyone is who you think they are! Sometimes you don’t know them well enough to judge! You think Kipps is some stuck up idiot but he’s not, he’s just a person who you both severely dislike! You think I’m a sweet girl who’s your best friend, who will forever remain your colleague, but guess what?! I’m not sweet! I can be really salty if I want to and you do NOT want to see that side of me! And you, Anthony Lockwood, I don’t even know where to start! You think yourself a glorified hero but you’re just-“ I was cut off by Lockwood’s lips on mine, my breath cut off until he detached from me, tongue darting out to lick his lips quickly.

“Hopelessly in love with you. That’s what I am. And I know that you may think of me as so many things, but-“ I grabbed his tie, pulling him in again, his hands reacting in less than a second and resting on my waist. My arms wrapped against his neck, both of our lips moving fast in response to our adrenaline. I felt my back collide with the wall, my hand reaching down to undo his tie and chuck it aside while he quickly undid his shirt buttons, taking it off and laying me on the sofa, starting to press light kisses to my neck.

“Do you want to still go for coffee with Kipps?” He asked, grinning.

“Hell no. This is much better.”

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #george karim #lucy carlyle #quill kipps

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rachi-roo · 1 year ago

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i have loved reading all of your fics! could you do one that is lee!bakugo and ler!todoroki? hope you are doing well!!

--------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }-------------

My Hero Academia: Cooking up trouble!

Weeeee! Finally, another fic is out! I really appreciate all the support you've given me recently, and thank you, anon, for this request! These two are such a mismatched pair. Their dynamic is so fun! XD

Summary: After Shotos' attempt at potato chopping goes wrong, he's forced to deal with an angry Chef Bakugo his own special way.

Characters: Ler!Shoto, Lee!Bakugo, mentions of other 1A students.

Tw: Swearing

---------------------☆ ☆-----------------------

"Damn it, Icey-Hot! How are you so bad at this!?" A certain explosive blonde snarled as he looked at the miss-shapen potatoes that Todoroki had been peeling for the classes dinner.

The bowl of oddly cut spuds made Bakugo want to cry or hurt someone. Or both. They were supposed to be sliced into thin circles to make chips. Instead, they were odd bolder shapes. He angrily moved Todoroki away from the counter, taking the knife from his hand.

"What's wrong with them?" The raspberry ripple hero asked, tilting his head as he was placed by the door.

"What's wrong with you!? These potatoes are almost as wonky as Deku!"

"Heeeey!" Dekus little voice grumbled from the lounge.

"SHUT IT! Anyway, they won't cook properly if they aren't thin enough. And they're cook unevenly too. Uuugh... Now I gotta get a new bag of them and do it myself and-" Bakugo grumbled on, swearing and fussing under his breath as he stomped around the kitchen, finding an unopened pack of fresh potatoes.

Shoto blinked as he watched Bakugo angrily start cutting up their dinner with his back to him. His flighty little mind thinking over the situation. Angry Bakugo is never nice to deal with. Maybe there's a way he could cheer him up?

Maybe that would work? It always helped brighten Dekus mood.

He smiled, approaching Bakugo quietly as he continued to grumble.

"I'm stuffing you in a box and shipping you all the way to the UK so Ramsey can train you u-HUP!" Bakugo jolted, arching his back away from a sudden tickly sensation. He turned quickly, glaring at Shoto, who stood with two, pokey index fingers, poised and ready.

"What are you doing?" Bakugo asked, setting the knife on the counter. Maybe the airhead just wanted some attention?

"I'm making you happy again. Or the food will taste bad." Shoto said plainly, his expression soft. Still pretty vacant as usual, but with a hint of a smile.

"The food will taste bad if I'm not happy?"

"Yes."

"First of all, my food always tastes awesome. And second of all, I don'tneed to be made happy. I'm fine."

".... You're lying."

"I am not! You just- hey, HEY! Back off!" Bakugo stammered as Todoroki casually reached for Bakugos sides, squeezing ever so lightly.

The light touch already had Bakugo biting back a smile as he tried to lean away from Shotos teasing fingers. His back met the counter, unable to shimmy any further. Shoto used that opportunity to attack!

"Got you." He smiled, suddenly shifting his hands up to Bakugos' worst spot. Below the underarms above the ribs. When it comes to Bakugo, you have to strike hard and fast, or face the consequences!

"GYAHA! N-No! I-Icehey-hyAHAAAA!" The blonde crumbled, his arms immediately clamping to his sides as he leaned against the counter, sliding down the surface and plopping onto the kitchen tiles with Shotos tickling fingers following.

"GEHEet offa meeeEHEHE! AHA! SHIHIT!"

"I do this to Midoria when he's sad too. It seems to have the same effect on you. I'm glad."

Shoto hummed, using very little effort to make Bakugo squirm under his touch. It was just so easy!

He drummed his fingers up and down Bakugos sides, causing the boy to curl in on himself, trapped between Shoto and the kitchen counter.

"Damn ihit! StAAHA! I-I'm n-nAHA! NOT SAD!" Bakugo howled as he made helpless attempts at grabbing Shotos hands. Nothing worked! Every time he thought he had a wrist gripped, Shoto managed to just slip out and tickle him again

"StahaAHAHAP! Y-You- I-IhIHI'M not making you DINNER!"

Shotos hands stilled. What? No dinner? But, Bakugo always helps with dinner! This won't do. No. Not at all!

"No dinner?... Well. What if I keep tickling you until you agree to cook?" Bakugo shot him a glare. How dare he threaten him like that!

"You wouldn't..." A silence fell between the two, staring at each other, a smirk growing on Shotos face.

"Hey... Icey-hot... OI! Don't just stare like that! I'll kiHIHIII! AHAHA! STAHAHAP! Fuhuck!"

"You know very well the rest of us can't cook. You're our only hope." Todoroki deadpanned as he spidered over Bakugos tummy, switching between different tickle spots to keep him overwhelmed and unable to escape.

The fact that Shoto was so calm and expressionless made the situation ten times worse for Bakugo. He couldn't read the situation properly. It was awful! Not that Bakugo could really see much with his eyes scrunched shut, forcing tears of mirth down his cheeks.

He wasn't giving up though!

"I-I'll nEHE-! NEVER! Never CAHAHA! CooHOHOOK! AGAHAHAIN! GahaHYAHA!"

Shoto smirked briefly, deciding to take things up a notch. He stuffed his hands up Bakugos shirt, using his Quirk to make one set of fingers warm, and the others awfully cold. A cruel and conflicting method.

A shriek left Bakugos' mouth as he felt the icey cold didgets pressed against his bare ribs, sending a shock wave up his spine.

"FFFAHAHACK! Noho! NahahaAHAAA!" He flailed, arching his back as he twisted and turned this way and that to try avoid the relentless, freezing, fingers!

Every time he leaned from the icey coldness, he was reminded that the warm hand was still there, attacking his worst spot whilst the cold fingers switched to another when he was distracted. There was no escape. Maybe he'd have to surrender?

"SHIHIT! N-NooOOHO! Ah! HAHA! IHICEY- SHIII-!" The blonde's laughter fell silent as Shoto latched onto his worst spot again, upper ribs, below armpits. He was going to make sure Bakugo never threatened to leave them hungry again!

"Hmm, Midoria also reacts when I say tickle. Does it affect you, too? Tickle, tickle." Shoto smiled, repeating the word in his near monotone voice, making poor Bakugis face light up like a Christmas tree! A pretty crimson red.

"S-ShuHUT- AAAAHHHH-!.... UWAH! F-FuhuHAHAK!" Again, his laughter went quiet before he gasped for air. His head threw back, mouth agape as the endless stream of laughter flooded forth.

"Is someone dying in here?"

All the commotion had gained the attention of the rest of class 1-A. A curious Sero peered around the island counter, spotting Bakugos flailing legs sticking out from behind. One of his slippers had been thrown as he kicked and squirmed.

The rest of the class stood in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear at the sight.

"I think he's had enough, Roki." Sero continued, chuckling as he watched Bakugo make another desperate attempt at grabbing his attackers hands.

Shoto stilled his hands, giving Bakugo the chance to finally catch his breath, as he looked up at Sero innocently.

"Bakugo said he wouldn't make us dinner." He explained. Missing out the part where it was partly his own fault.

"Ooooh..." Sero nodded in understanding. He looked at the dishevelled Bakugo on the floor tiles, smirking as he made an attempt at glaring. It wasn't very convincing through that veil of happy tears and rosy cheeks.

"Well," the tape weirder shrugged. "We can't have that now, can we?" He shot Bakugo a cheeky smirk. "As you were, Roki. Call if you need any assistance." He chuckled.

"W-Wait! Hey! Soy sauce face! That's not your decision to mAHAHAKE! NAAAHAHAAA-!"

"Let us know when dinners ready, kay?" Sero called back with a wave as he left with the rest of the class. Condemning Bakugo to his tickly doom!

Shoto looked at Bakugo, casually continuing to tickle him all over.

"I want Soba."

"S-Stuff your damn SOHOBA! DAHAHAHMN IT!"

---------------------☆ ☆-----------------------

Thank you for reading~ ✨️

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #shoto torodoki #katsuki bakugou #todoroki shouto #lee!bakugou #ler!todoroki #sfw tickles #fic requests #rachi roo

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socialmediasocrates · 9 months ago

Text

MITZIE AND THE THINGS SHE FOUND IN THE RIVER; a wip intro

(intro graphics by @veneritia)

Genre: new adult, urban fantasy

Tropes: Cloudcuckoolander, But for Me, It Was Tuesday, Her Boyfriend's Jacket, Non-Linear Character, Red String of Fate, Necromancer, Child of Forbidden Love, Anthropomorphic Personification, Revenant Zombie, Interactive Narrator

5 Song Playlist: Inkpot Gods, Bulletproof Heart, The Last of the Real Ones, Call Your Mom, Breath of Life

TL;DR: Keyesville, PA's got a serial killer, and it's up to "undergrad" witch Mitzie Morse and yoga instructor Khalil Bashir to stop them.

Summary:

For six months, Mitzie Morse has been pulling murder victims out of the river.

She gets them fixed up, so she figures it's not really a big deal, but there's definitely a serial killer on the loose. One who's ramped up their activity lately, a pattern of escalation in both violence and frequency of killings that would give anyone other than Mitzie some pause. Necromancers have a dysfunctional relationship with reality. Someone has to remind them that death is scary for most people, or they forget. Luckily (for Keyesville, not Mitzie) the latest victim, burnt out physical therapist turned yoga instructor Khalil Bashir, is happy to remind her that she has the power to stop these killings once and for all. Unluckily (for Keyesville, for Mitzie, and mostly for Khalil) a quirk of fate and magic has bound the two of them together. Doubly unluckily (for Keyesville, for Khalil, and mostly for Mitzie), the killer has set their sights on a new target: Mitzie Morse.

Characters

Mitzie Morse

like all necromancers, mitzie has a sense of style kindly described as "macabre" and accurately described as "fucking gross." dir en grey, gazette, and my chemical romance posters war with gruesome anatomical diagrams of creatures ranging from humans to unicorns to, somehow, dodo birds for wall space. her kitchen cabinets are home to a collection of mismatched thrifted cups, plates, and bowls, an ancient, somewhat decrepit, rice cooker, and an array of body parts preserved in mason jars. the colorful ones your least favorite high school classmates use for drinks in their instagram posts.

[…]

"i think he might need a new left eye." she takes a step back to survey her handiwork. "maybe a couple toes and fingers, too. do i still have toes and fingers?"

unfortunately, the answer to that is yes. they're in the pantry, next to the box of gushers. the one that's already open, not the unopened one on the top shelf. kind of wedged between the gushers and the canned ravioli. yep, she's found them. she's never explained why she keeps them in there, to me or anyone, at least not in a way that i'm willing to accept.

"i told you, there's not enough space in the cabinets."

there would be plenty of space if she got rid of all the novelty cups.

"i don't want to get rid of my novelty cups."

she should, they're grungy in the gross way.

Khalil Bashir

"who are you?"

anyway, the yoga instructor, khalil, is up.

he's still sitting on mitzie's kitchen table, the blanket she threw over him folded over itself in his lap. he's twisting around, trying to figure out where he is (you're in mitzie's apartment, i just said that) and where i am (everywhere all at once, but i'm incorporeal so you can stop looking).

"who are you? who the fuck is mitzie?" he's got that high-pitched edge to his voice that people get when they're panicking. unfortunate.

"hello?"

oh. right. i'm stevie.

[…]

"what is this?" he holds the gift card out from himself like it's going to bite him.

"a twenty five dollar gift card!" mitzie stares at khalil. khalil stares back at mitzie. this goes on long enough that she decides to elaborate, "you know, for your trouble."

he looks like he'd like to say something but isn't fully certain what he wants to say or how he wants to say it. this is a common reaction to mitzie. she does tend to just open her mouth and say things. khalil opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens his mouth, then closes it. he looks at the gift card. he looks at mitzie. he looks at the gift card. he sighs, shakes his head, and stuffs it in a pocket.

"why did you settle on twenty five dollar gift cards?"

"i dunno, it seemed fair."

"right."

khalil's been having the longest day known to man for two and a half weeks.

Fatima Bashir

fatima is one of those unspeakably fashionable people that makes everything she wears look good. even, more than occasionally, dog vomit.

see, much like her brother burnt out on the whole "living in philly and fighting the demon in the homeless man outside the wawa for his life every time he wanted a hoagie" life, fatima got tired of having to sit through putting people's dogs to sleep for eighteen dollars an hour and no health insurance. so khalil's a yoga instructor, and fatima owns keyesville's first doggie daycare. somehow, her perfect manicures never get too fucked up.

"any news on khalil?" asks the office worker, passing a tupperware container of cookies across the counter. this is the fifth time today that someone has asked this. it is seven in the morning.

"not yet, but we're staying optimistic. thanks for the cookies; mom loved the last ones." it's true that her mom loved the cookies, but it's not true that she's thankful for them.

Johnny ???

"so, what's up with the mcdonald's napkins?" khalil is sitting extremely inadvisably unbuckled in the back of the van.

"no clue." two sharp turns and a hard stop at a red light. johnny sips his cucumber water placidly while everyone behind him climbs back into their seats. "gotta take 'em somewhere in oklahoma, though."

"how do you know that?"

"no clue."

johnny is a mystery wrapped in an enigma lodged in a mound of horse shit. you'll recall that his previous identity was cursed or something, so he turned it over to edna in exchange for the first of many mcdonald's napkins and a broken magic guitar. some garage sale special of unknown make, black paint flaking off the wood everywhere, strings curling around the pegboard like medusa's snakes. it doesn't matter how many times he changes the strings, or what he does when he changes them, they will always break as soon as he plays them, and the only song the guitar will reliably play is the mysterious one written on the mcdonald's napkins he keeps finding everywhere.

@seasteading ; @writinglyra ; @asablehart ; @zorya-km ; @silent-creed ; @cheshawrites ; @thewritersplace

#wtwcommunity #writeblr #writers on tumblr #urban fantasy #does this qualify as weird fiction #moth the hack writer #mitzie and the things she found in the river

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slowd1ving · 7 months ago

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HELLOOOOO I'M GONNA SCREAM AGSBSNNS THE COMMENT DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH SPACE SO HERE I AM LOL

Goodness, FIRST OF ALL, I thoroughly enjoyed how you added your own narration to what could've been going in through vil's head leading up to the overblot, the deteriorating thoughts and the desperation,,, so awesome, and how he finally reaches the stage of acceptance both in terms of his rivalry with neige AND the MC?? Ah yes, how bittersweet. And also, I love how the little idea that MC can sort of "read" / look into people's memories post overblot was implemented here, I legit just pointed at the screen and went "AHA. 🫵 GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE"

Aside from that,,, besides The fact that the chapters were appropriately labeled before being posted, I actually kind of predicted what MC might have asked for had they won hehe they're so wicked LMAO (which, speaking of, even if it's not relevant anymore, what would have been their score? I'm quite curious! But it's okay if you didn't think about that particular detail lol, there was a lot more to look toward to hehe)

AND OMG THE PARALLELS BETWEEN VIL'S DREAM AND THE ACTUAL SCENE AAAA I LOVE IT, I LOVE SEEING HIM LOSE HIS MIND LMAOO (also stockings????????? I had to take a walk for a moment 🫠🫠) and rook being an absolute menace when he puts two and two together 😭🙏god bless that freak

Wahhh just a very delightful series overall, your writing is just wonderful and you just earned yourself a new follower HALLO :333

LMAO BRO WENT OVER THE WORD COUNT😭😭

yeah honestly the twst writers missed out on a treasure trove of content when it comes to thoughts pre-ob; like that haze you go through when you're losing it 😔and for the acceptance bit - I feel like Vil's a more dynamic character than one to keep such a grudge without it changing (he's still petty to neige now over MC LMAO). I like how twst did the peek-into-memories bit it makes the ob seem so much more human 😭had to include it ofc

bro MC was DEVIOUS especially with that little flirtatious thing they were doing right after the assessment...in terms of their score they won lmao (like a biological weapon vs a poison comeonnn now) in the original I'd posted on ao3 a while back I did include that they still came out on top with the magical resistivity in play - but only in the notes not the actual work

cuz I felt like not revealing it showed growth for vil since the letter was still unopened by morning which meant he was focusing more on human connection (literally lmao) rather than his 'perfection' for once 😭but yeah revealing it in the fic would've still been brutal for poor vil

YESSS THE PARALLELS WERE MY FAVOURITE PART TO WRITE!! like I needed him to question whether they'd seen his dreams and not just his memories lmao (honestly I'm still not sure if their dreams connected or MC just saw it like they did with the original scenes with the original films - but that would've been a pretty interesting out of body experience)

smth about men in stockings bro.... had the most DEVIOUS smile like hed totally wear them anyway because theyre elegant or whatever bros a little 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 with it 😭😭

rook was putting two and two together a long time ago 😭nah but writing him being romantic earlier made me tempted to make it about him instead

thank youuu i might write a similar style with alhaitham or smth because GODDDDD academic rivalry is so 🤩

you earned yourself a follow back 😭 these comments made me genuinely so happy to read through

HELLO YA :3

#ask slowd1ving

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jellyloveru · 2 years ago

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hl:op4 isn't better than hl:bs and hl:bs isn't worse than hl:op4. change my mind.

#балаболим #like. the most used argument i see all the time is ''op4 is better because it has much more content in it'' which is true.#it's longer and has more weapons. even a final boss which bs doesn't have.#but still - i don't think that one is better than the other.#i don't wanna go into the whole ''bs has more soul'' stuff right now. i agree with that but that's not why i think they're equals #(that too but not rn)#op4 is full of unopened potential. no not like that - it's opened. but not fully used.#game has many weapons? sure but some of them are a bit useless. it's variability yes. still.#mechanics? used just a couple of times. as useful as a roach ai basically. like the engeneer and the barnacle.#sure they add to the whole feel of the game i don't deny that. but if we discuss the gameplay in that way op4 is a bit flawed too #i sure haven't noticed the same with bs. in op4 it feels like they stuffed a bunch of stuff in there they couldn't implement fully #like. don't get me wrong. love both of these games to bits. love both barney and adrian. but i don't want some people to say-#-that one is better than the other. each has flaws. and each has it's positive traits.

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pigeonwhumps · 1 year ago

Text

Gemma rescues Phoenix AU: Part 3

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Everything: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Phoenix struggles, and Gemma helps.

2.3k

CWs: hospital setting, panic attack, past crucifixion, flashback to said crucifixion, aftermath of crucifixion and resurrection, partial nudity, talk of impaling, use of 'kiddo' for an adult, immortal whumpee, long-term injury/chronic pain, traumatised whumpee, low self-worth, past abandonment, past death/resurrection

Gemma stays there on the floor, arms wrapped around a sobbing Phoenix. They're alive. She still can't believe it, but here they are, warm and breathing and traumatised to all hell but alive.

"Sorry. Sorry."

Gemma tightens her arms. "Shh. It's okay, god, don't apologise."

Phoenix buries their head in her and sobs harder.

Gemma's so busy trying to keep herself and Phoenix calm, reminding herself that they're alive, here, god they're alive, they're not dead, that she barely notices the presence appear beside them. She only realises when Phoenix tenses, and they both look up.

A nurse in a blue polo shirt is standing there, arms folded. She smiles tightly when she sees them looking.

"Are you the woman who came in with the crucified girl?"

Phoenix flinches, and Gemma tightens her arm around them, suddenly angry. It's not entirely the nurse's fault, she doesn't know who Phoenix is, but still. Phoenix has a morgue sheet on, it should be obvious something's wrong.

"Yes. And I think you'll find your morgue is missing a body."

The nurse blinks. Blinks again. Looks hard at Phoenix.

"You came back to life?" They nod. "Do you have any injuries?" They shake their head. "Okay. You'll still need to be checked out, and the police are here. They'll want to speak to both of you."

"Can we have a chance to breathe and get Phoenix some clothes first?" Gemma snaps. Inexplicably, the nurse's face softens at this.

"The police are interviewing the staff, so yes, we have plenty of time. There's a donation box at the end of the corridor, or the hospital shop."

Gemma shakes her head. "No money. Didn't think about that."

"In that case, we'll go to the donation box. Follow me."

Phoenix stumbles as they rise, clinging onto Gemma to stop themself falling.

"Sorry."

"Shh." Gemma helps them to their feet, supporting them as they lean against her, seemingly about to collapse. "Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Doesn't matter how fast we go."

Phoenix nods but still continues to walk faster than they probably should, stumbling every few steps. It's only a couple of minutes before they reach the donation box.

"What size are you, kid?"

"Um, eight. Or six. Mostly."

Gemma nods and lets them go gently before diving in. She doesn't know what style Phoenix usually wears, but she finds a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms in their size, as well as an unopened packet of pants and a pair of flipflops. The latter are rather large, but they'll do.

She's about to hand the whole pile to Phoenix when she notices a small stuffed monkey. The kind that has magnetic hands and feet, designed to attach to something. It's a bit worn on the top of the head, but not much.

"Here you go. I hope they fit. And it might be a bit childish, but there's this, too."

Phoenix takes the monkey and holds it tenderly over the pile of clothes, lip trembling as they mouth something. They don't seem to be able to speak but Gemma gets the message, smiling.

"That's alright."

The nurse clears her throat. "You might want to get something for yourself as well. You're covered in blood."

Gemma looks down at herself. Oh, god, Phoenix's blood, she'd forgotten about that. It didn't seem to matter once Phoenix was alive again. But now it does, of course it does, it's unhygienic and it's Phoenix's blood. She digs herself out a t-shirt and shorts, stealing glances at Phoenix every few seconds to make sure they're still there, that Gemma didn't imagine them coming back to life, they didn't die on the operating table and they're right here.

"Right. Right, ready."

Phoenix stumbles as they start walking again and Gemma takes their arm to stop them from falling. She doesn't really notice where she's going, too busy holding up the exhausted kid, until the nurse ushers them into a room with one bed and an en-suite.

"Lucky for you there's a side room free. The police will be here soon, let them in when you're ready."

"We will."

The nurse nods and exits. Gemma turns to Phoenix.

"You take the shower first. Can you manage it on your own, do you think?" Phoenix nods. "Anyone you want me to call while you're in there?"

They shake their head. "No, I, um... no."

"Okay. Go on, I'll be here when you finish."

Phoenix nods and heads into the bathroom, setting the monkey down carefully on the bed first.

Now Gemma just needs to wait. She hates waiting, especially alone with her thoughts when they're like this. But Phoenix is alive. Alive, alive, alive, and as long as she keeps repeating that to herself she'll be fine.

Phoenix drops the bundle of clothes on the bumpy vinyl floor and sits down on the floor of the shower. The head goes drip... drip... drip... but it's different from the warehouse, it is, the pattern is monotonous, there's a pattern, and anyway they can see here. If they just focus on what they can see they'll be okay.

They rub their wrists, feeling the new rough scars there. Scars, not nails, not open wounds.

They need to get up and turn the shower on. They need to wash, they know they're filthy, even if it's barely noticeable anymore. But they can't move. Can't get themself to, can barely remember how to, how long is it since they could, anyway?

Aside from the walk here. That was... weird. The woman's weirdly nice. They're not sure if she's told them her name, their memory's shot, but either way they don't understand why she's acting this way. It's not like Phoenix is important, and she didn't know them before this. So why does she seem to care so much?

Why would anyone?

How long were they in the warehouse for? Why did nobody come? Surely Abbie wouldn't assume they could rescue themself for so long. Maybe it wasn't as long as it felt. Maybe something happened that meant no-one could.

Maybe they sent that woman. Maybe they did send help, and that's why she's here.

Stop. They need to stop thinking about not being rescued and take a shower. They can figure out the rest later.

It's just... the drip... drip... drip... is relentless. Phoenix's vision swims in and out, seeing the warehouse, the dark, the metal and concrete, back to the bright white of the hospital, round and round, hearing the dripping and their own ringing screams and barely able to breathe. They dig their thumbs into their thighs, trying to concentrate. If they can see more than shadowed metal and concrete, it's okay. If they can move, it's okay.

They twitch their toes, wiggle their legs. If they can see and move, it's okay.

Their skin looks unblemished. They know it's a lie, they've automatically camouflaged, but they can see it, unblurred by pain and oxygen starvation, and if they can see and move, it's okay.

There's a pop. One quiet pop, and the bathroom is plunged into terrifying, looming, crawling darkness.

One quiet pop, and Phoenix is thrown back there entirely.

The warehouse is quiet and still aside from the drip... drip... drip..., all they can see is metal and concrete, light slanting in at an angle. Everything aches, they can't move, can't even catch their breath.

Their wrist spasms, pain bursting through it like the nail's being hammered in for the first time. They can't move it voluntarily without their whole arm screaming in pain as shocks reverberate up it. It's all far, far too much, and it's going to be forever.

Phoenix screams.

They scream. And they scream. The pain and the dark and the fear is too much, and they scream, scream until their throat's raw.

"Phoenix! Phoenix, you need to breathe, can you do that for me? Can you hear me?"

Phoenix gasps, unsure whose the voice is but it sounds warm and familiar, and they flinch as warm hands touch them.

"That's it. Hold onto my forearms, tight as you like, and breathe. Take a deep breath, just like that, and another."

Phoenix clutches the woman's forearms like a lifeline, fingers digging in, keeping themself here, and breathes like she says, one after the other.

"That's it. Now, tell me five things you can see."

"You. And, um, and I don't know your name, and light, and tiles, and, um, I don't, concrete? I don't know, I can't concentrate."

"Hey. It's okay, you did well, just breathe. You got three. No concrete here though, we're in the hospital, remember? No warehouse. My name's Gemma."

"Gemma," whispers Phoenix, voice rough from screaming.

"Yeah. Can you tell me four things you can feel?"

"Your arm. Um, the tiles under my feet, and, um, the air, and, and, um, my hair?"

Hair they realise, with a start, is coated at the ends with dried blood. From their wrists which are still bleeding and– and–

No. No, they're not.

Gemma smiles. "You're doing well. Three things you can hear?"

"Your voice. My heartbeat. And, um, murmuring."

"Two things you can smell?"

"Blood. Blood, I– I– um–" Oh, god, there's so much blood. They tighten their hold.

"Easy, Phoenix. You're not in the warehouse, you're safe. Can you give me one thing you can taste?"

"Salt."

"That's it. Come on, breathe, easy now. Do you know where you are?"

Phoenix closes their eyes, bows their head, digs their fingers into Gemma's arms.

"Hospital. With you. Gemma. No– no more crucifixion. No warehouse. Safe."

"Yeah. That's right. Safe."

Phoenix nods. Safe, safe, safe.

The block starts to recede from their mind as they repeat it, the hospital coming into sharper focus. They release a deep, shuddering breath.

"Thank you." They pull their hands back, tucking them into themself, and that's when they notice the red marks on Gemma's arm. They don't have enough left in them to feel any more scared, now, but it doesn't stop them remembering what Abbie's punishment for that would be. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to– I mean, I didn't know, I, um, I didn't mean to hurt you, I–"

"Hey, shh, it's okay. I know you didn't. I knew the risks. It'll just be a couple of bruises, it's fine, kiddo. Okay?"

Phoenix nods. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising for everything. None of this is anything you need to apologise for."

"Okay. I'm– right." They let out a weak chuckle. They're not used to this. No-one's ever told them *not* to apologise before.

"Shall we get cleaned up? Both of us. I'd like to get your blood off me at some point." Phoenix nods. "Great. Can I wash your hair?"

Gemma sounds hopeful and Phoenix doesn't know what they've done to deserve this.

"Please."

Please, let someone else take care of them for once. Gemma's so soft and warm and they need that, they crave it, and they find themself for once not caring too much about what she might want them for afterwards.

She must want them for something, right? To be doing all this?

"Right. You might want to take off your dirty underwear. And I guess I should undress too. If you're comfortable with that. Let me sort the shower head."

"It's, um, it's fine." Phoenix pulls off their stiff and dirty underpants, only vaguely aware they were still wearing them. Didn't... didn't they have a t-shirt on before? At some point? When did they lose that?

"Ready?"

They nod, and Gemma turns on the water.

Phoenix gasps as the spray hits them. Oh, it feels so good. Cool then warm and clean and pounding, pounding, pounding on their sore shoulders, their itchy scalp, turning light brown as it swirls down the drain.

And now they're thirsty. So thirsty, suddenly, and they tip their head back, mouth open, desperate to catch some. Water streams into their mouth, warm and not very nice to taste but water.

"The police will be here soon," Gemma murmurs, rubbing the roots of their hair. "They'll want to talk to both of us. Do you want me to stay with you or would you prefer to answer the questions on your own?"

Phoenix swallows hard. Given the choice, they'd rather not talk about their experience at all. But they don't have that choice.

"I– I can do it on my own. I need to do it alone."

They're determined not to be a burden any more than they already have been. They're not entirely useless, and they need to prove it both to themself and Gemma. Even if they're still barely present half the time and their memory's an incoherent jumble, their body even worse. They're not sure they can even walk properly, and the wrist spasm catapulted them back to the warehouse. It all makes them want to scream. They don't know how to make any of this better, but they know they need to do this alone.

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. However you do this, it's okay."

Phoenix knows that's a lie. It has to be. There's no way Gemma would be happy with them being even more dependent on her. But when she briefly places a hand on their shoulder, they rest their own on top anyway.

It's not enough. None of what they do is, and they know Gemma knows it too, but as long as she doesn't say anything they can pretend it is. Pretend they're enough.

They don't know what they're going to do if Gemma admits that they're not.

#whump #whump writing #immortal cannon fodder #phoenix oc #gemma oc #immortal whumpee #hero whump #hero whumpee #hero caretaker #whumpee and caretaker #hospital setting #crucifixion #panic attack tw #low self worth #past abandonment #resurrection #aftermath of resurrection #flashback

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braveclementine · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 11

Warnings: Allusions and innuendos towards OC sleeping with a Professor

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌, Harry showed me a letter from Sirius. Sadie had come back with the reply. It read:

Harry- I cannot say everything I would like to in the letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted- we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November? I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself, and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. Be on the watch Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can. Sirius.

Then Harry handed me an unopened letter, also from Sirius. "Thought you'd want your own letter."

"Thanks." I said, taking it.

Eilís, Don't risk anything. I don't want you caught outside at night. Someone's obviously after Harry and I'm sure they're after you too. I know you're in Hufflepuff, but see if you can meet with Harry on the 22nd of November, if he can make it. I'd like to see you too, just in a safer zone for all of us. Love, Sirius

"He puts love in your letters?" Harry asked, "Why doesn't he do that with me?"

"Maybe because I sign my letters with love first." I said with a shrug, putting the letter in the bottom of my bag.

"You think he loves me?" Harry asked thoughtfully and I looked at him in surprise.

"Of course he does." I said warmly. "But you two are a man and a boy. Males show love a bit differently than girls do. We nearly always sign our letters with love and the boys or men we write to always know to sign their letters with love."

Harry looked slightly cheered and said, "I wonder what his reaction would be if I did sign a letter with love."

"He'd probably think someone's impersonating you." I said, a bit amused, spearing scrambled eggs on the end of my fork.

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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖞, The Daily Prophet released the article. I got a copy that morning. I read it and started laughing. Harry leaned over my shoulder to read the following paragraph.

I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now. . . Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it. . . I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me. Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevy, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one of two girls, either Hermione Granger, a Stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl or Elizabeth Kane, a gorgeous half-blood, both of who are top students in school, just like Harry himself.

Harry's face turned red. "I didn't say any of this!" He said in a panic.

"I know." I said. "I wasn't laughing at that. I was laughing about Hermione and I being part of the stupid newspaper."

Hermione wasn't even fazed. "She lies a lot when she writes, doesn't she?"

"It's her Quick-Quotes Quill." I said through a mouthful of egg. I swallowed and said, "Her quill is meant to exaggerate for better stories. More sorrow, more hype. It's just for longer stories as well 'cause the Quill uses more words."

"Stupid thing." Harry said vehemently.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up." I said. "Want to go? I think I'll bring food for Sirius..."

"Sirius is nearby?" Harry asked. I nodded.

"We won't go to his hideout right now, considering he won't know we're coming and I don't want to scare him, but I can leave food on a rock at the Shrieking Shack. I told him that's where I'd leave food."

"Sure" Harry said and that was the end of that.

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𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 a bad time, snapping at people when he finally had enough. He confided in me that he admired the way Hermione and I dealt with it.

"It's nothing Harry, you just let them get to you and I don't blame you. I've gotten into a couple of fights with Draco already, but I usually keep them on the downlow." I'd replied. "But yes, I'm with you in admiring Hermione." I paused and then said, "here's some good news. Ron will be your friend by Tuesday."

"That's good." Harry said a bit vacantly.

I spent a lot of time in library. Viktor Krum was spending a lot of time in there too. Sometimes we studied together and he confided in me that he was very interested in Hermione Granger, though he didn't know her name. He simply said, "your friend." and with a couple questions, I found that it was Hermione.

I was pleased by this and often talked Hermione up when I had the chance. Hermione on the other hand, was irritated by Krum's presence in the library.

"He's not even good-looking!" she muttered angrily as I studied with her and Harry one day. A group of giggling girls were spying on his from behind the bookshelves. Hermione hated the noise. "The only like him because he's famous! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-Faint thing."

I dropped my mouth in horror, goggling at her and started to cough. "Wronski Feint." Harry and I said at the same time. Harry's teeth were gritted and he burst into laughter at my face.

Hermione glared at us and we stopped laughing, but continued to grin.

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𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝕳𝖔𝖌𝖘𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊. Harry took his invisibility cloak, wanting to hide from Ron. I rolled my eyes but let it go.

We went to Honeydukes first and bought large chocolates filled with white cream. It was thick, a bit like frosting and they were good. We walked out eating them. It was a much different atmosphere now, and I could tell Harry could feel the difference. We were more free, no one was shouting horrible things at Harry- they couldn't see him.

I had a basket filled with sweets on my arm along with Chicken legs that I'd taken from the Lunch table this afternoon. We walked down to Shrieking Shack and I set it down on top of a rock. I didn't wait, I told Sirius we wouldn't wait- not wanting anyone to see him- and, looking around, I didn't see him in person or as a dog and we went to the Three Broomsticks afterwards.

Hermione went to get the butterbeers. I did not want to talk to Madam Rosmerta, who I knew was curious to meet me. I went with Harry to a table in the back. We passed Ron who was sitting with Fred, George, and Lee. Fred looked up for a moment, but I passed by without looking at them.

I had nothing against Fred- I quite liked him, though I found my crushes on him and Cedric and others were waning (Snape shined brighter than ever). However, I felt that if I stopped to talk, I might end up chewing Ron out, and I didn't have the energy.

Hermione slipped Harry a butterbeer under his cloak and I drank my own. It tasted delicious and I realized I was going to have to buy some to put in a bottle and send to Trang. Nah, I was going to wait and bring her here. Yeah, that was best.

Hermione pulled out her S.O.E.A. notebook. I noticed Harry and Ron's names were at the very top of the very short list. She'd barely gotten anyone to sign. Nearly everyone thought it was a joke.

"When are you going to give up this Elves rights thing, Hermione?" Harry asked through a large gulp of butterbeer.

Hermione's eyes flared up and said, "When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions! You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens."

"No idea, ask Fred and George." Harry said.

"Hagrid's going to come over and tell you to visit him at midnight." I murmured, taking another sip of butterbeer.

"Why?" Harry asked in interest, looking around, "I don't even see him."

"You'll see him eventually, he'll be talking to Moody. Anyways, you'll wave, but you're under the cloak so he won't see. But Moody's eye sees under the cloak so he'll bring Hagrid over to you." I said after I finished swallowing the hot drink.

I watched at the next table as Ernie and Hannah swapped chocolate frog cards, wearing Support Cedric Diggory badges. Hannah had asked me to come and swap with them and I'd politely declined saying I'd rather not. She'd looked over and seemed a bit surprised that I wasn't with Harry.

Susan was at another table with some of the other Hufflepuffs. She never got a Support Cedric Diggory badge and I liked her all the more for it. If I had to hang out with a Hufflepuff, she was my go to.

I wondered who Harry was looking at. Probably Cho- she was sitting with some Ravenclaw girlfriends. Harry would be happy that she wasn't wearing a Diggory badge.

"Look, it's Hagrid!" Hermione said, motioning.

I wasn't sure if Harry waved or not. Maybe he was waving, or maybe he was waiting until Moody was looking in our general direction. Either way, eventually Moody and Hagrid made their way over to where we were standing.

"All right, Hermione? Elizabeth?" Hagrid said loudly.

"Hello." Hermione said, smiling back.

"Hey Hagrid, Hey Uncle Moody." I said, smiling at both of them. "Professor, I mean."

Moody waved away my apology and stomped around the table to bend down and mutter "Nice cloak, Potter."

"Can your eye- I mean, can you-" I hard Harry whispering beside me. Perhaps he hadn't heard me the first time. Or maybe he was just checking to see if Uncle Moody's eye really saw invisibility cloaks.

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks. And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Hagrid was beaming down at where Harry was sitting. Moody had, of course, told him about the cloak. Hagrid bent down and said very, very quietly, "Harry, meet me tonight at eleven thirty at me cabin. Wear that cloak."

"Nice ter see yeh, Hermione, Elizabeth." Hagrid said, winking and then Uncle Moody and Hagrid moved away, heading out of the pub.

"Eleven thirty?" I questioned out loud, frowning. "I'm positive I had foreseen midnight."

Hermione was frowning too and said, "It is strange that some of your memories are being changed. I wonder why that is."

"They aren't large changes." I muttered, frowning at the table, trying to figure out the puzzle. "Maybe Trelawney will know something."

Hermione snorted vehemently and Harry choked on his butterbeer. "Sure." He said, laughing. "Sure."

I had to laugh too. We soon left.

"Anyways," I said, wrapping my cloak tightly around myself as snow started to come down. It didn't stick and would probably be gone by the night. "Eleven thirty is better anyways considering you have to meet with Sirius tonight as well."

"Will you be there?" Harry asked. "You know the Gryffindor password."

"I'll think about it." I said honestly. "I don't know if I'd risk it, but it'd be worth it. I haven't talked to him in forever."

I separated from Harry and Hermione as we entered the castle. I went to the Hufflepuff common room and went upstairs for a nap. I woke up around ten and headed out of the castle. It was dark out and the stars were shining brightly. I had my wand and art pad and pencil. I was hoping I could find the moon flowers that I had found last time. Besides, the dragons were going to be out tonight and I hoped to get some good drawings of them.

I met with Firenze halfway through the forest. I was glad, because I could've sworn I'd heard footsteps behind me, but hadn't seen anyone.

"Elizabeth Kane, wonderful to see you again." Firenze said softly.

"Hello Firenze." I said cheerfully. "There's dragons in the forest tonight. I'm hoping to get some good drawings."

Firenze smiled. "Yes, we've stayed far away from the dragons. We don't enjoy Centaur barbecue."

I stared at him for a moment, my mouth open in surprise and when I found my voice I said, "You actually made a joke!"

"Was it good?" Firenze asked, smiling, and sounding amused.

"Very." I said, grinning. We set off into the forest. He led the way, already knowing where the dragons were.

I crept forward when we got there. There were four of them, each of them had about seven dragon keepers around them. The Chinese Fireball was already laying down, sleeping. I flipped open my sketchpad. I squatted down and worked on the drawing, capturing as many angles as possible in a short amount of time.

I recognized Charlie and that gave me an idea for Christmas. But I simply wrote a note for it and continued. There was also a Swedish Short-Snout, Hungarian Horntail, and Common Welsh Green. Harry would get the horntail of course, going last.

The dragons were all sleeping for now, I knew they'd drunk some sleeping draft before they'd been transported here.

Suddenly a wizard got very close and waved to Firenze, "Hello there."

"Charlie!" I said, popping up from the ground. Charlie took a few steps back out of shock.

He recovered and stuttered, "E-Elizabeth?"

"Firenze, this is Charlie Weasley, I've mentioned him before. Charlie, this is Firenze, he's a Centaur, obviously." I said, quickly introducing them.

"What are you doing out so late?" Charlie asked, nodding to Firenze politely. Firenze nodded back.

"Oh, well, I wanted to see the dragons and draw them." I said, showing him my rough dragon sketch.

"That's good considering the lack of light." Charlie complimented me. "How'd you know about the dragons? Your visions?"

I nodded. "The visions alerted me. Though they aren't extremely reliable, so I wasn't sure if they'd be here or not." I paused and said, "Hagrid's going to bring Madam Maxime soon."

"Great." Charlie said, rolling his eyes.

"I'll leave you now, Elizabeth Kane." Firenze said, putting a calm hand on my shoulder, "I shall converse with you later."

"Bye Firenze." I said, smiling and watched him gallop away.

I jumped the bush line to get a better look at the dragons.

"I love the Chinese Fireball." I said, starting another rough sketch. "And the Swedish Short-Snout is a very pretty dragon." I said.

"You know the different types?" Charlie asked in surprise.

I nodded. "I pay attention in Care of Magical Creatures class." I paused and then said, "Harry will have to get past the Hungarian Horntail- at least that's what I see for now. It could change."

Charlie brought me around the dragon camp so that I could see the dragons better. I added more detail to my Chinese Fireball dragon.

"I should go back up to the castle." I said, after I had rough sketches of all four dragons done. "The dragons will wake up soon so I want to get out of your way."

"Alright, hopefully I'll see you at the first event." Charlie said with a smile.

I smiled back and then said, "Hey umm, so I know Mrs. Weasley- your mum- is upset about Harry. Tell her that he doesn't actually cry about his parents, will you? Cause he doesn't. Everything Rita Skeeter wrote in there- or nearly everything- he never actually said."

Charlie nodded. "I figured as much. Mum was in floods after reading the article."

"It'll be nice if she knows it wasn't true." I said.

Charlie nodded again. I could hear Hagrid and Madam Maxime's voices approaching and the dragons were starting to wake up. The Hungarian Horntail started to breathe fire and both Charlie and I had to hit the deck to avoid being burned.

"Go, I'll let mom know. And don't tell Harry about this, understand. None of the contestants are supposed to know!" Charlie said.

I kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, I won't."

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"𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘." 𝕴 𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖉 as Harry approached the Gryffindor Common Room portrait.

"I know." Harry said. "I just saw them. Balderdash."

The portrait swung open and I followed him into the Gryffindor common room. It was 12:55. "You stayed late." I commented.

Harry nodded. "I hoped Charlie was going to drop some hints about what the tournaments going to be like. Any ideas?"

I sighed. "I'm afraid that if I say, my visions will change."

"Well-" Harry said but stopped talking as he had spotted Sirius' head in the fire. "Sirius- how're you doing?"

"Aww man." I complained. "You cut your hair."

Sirius grinned at me but said to Harry, "Never mind me, how are you?"

"I'm-" he hesitated and then blurted out all his feelings about how he's felt in the past week. How no one except Hermione and I believed he didn't enter his name- along with a few teachers. How Rita Skeeter's article had lied about him and he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at. For some reason, he threw in about Hermione and I being punished about it too. And he talked about Ron and how much he missed him and how jealous Ron was.

I stayed silent the whole time, becoming a background object and letting him speak. "...Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner." Harry finished.

"Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute- I haven't go long here... I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"What?" Harry said.

"Karkaroff." Sirius said and I stiffened. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"They were at the World Cup." I muttered.

"Yes-hes one?" Harry asked.

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year- to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"No wonder he's so scared of him." I murmured.

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry asked. "Why did they release him?"

"Information." I said.

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic." Sirius said, nodding to me. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names. . . he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place. . . He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, form what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Snape warned me." I said suddenly. "He came after me when I got to close to the ship. He thinks Karkaroff wants to use me to win the Tournament."

Sirius' face darkened. "Snape. . ." he muttered. "He could be right though, as much as I hate to say it."

"Are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. he seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing." Harry said slowly.

"We know he's a good actor, because he convinced the ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry-"

"-you and the rest of the world-" Harry replied bitterly.

"-and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely, Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror that Ministry ever had."

"So. . . what are you saying? Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But- why?" Harry asked.

"He can't possibly want to kill you." I hissed, "Remember my dream, Voldemort wants you. If it is Karkaroff, and I'm not all that sure it is, he'll use the tournament to get you to him."

"What dream?" Sirius asked sharply.

I hesitated. "It doesn't matter."

"Tell me." Sirius said.

I sighed and repeated nearly the whole story to him, leaving out the part about me and talking only about Harry. Somehow though, perhaps through my sucked in cheeks, he knew I was hiding something.

"Spit it out." He said, a bit harshly.

I kept my mouth shut and Harry, who'd heard the story twice, told him what was said about me. Sirius' face darkened even more.

"So Bertha Jorkins is dead and Voldemort is rising because of Pettigrew." Sirius said angrily. "I knew I should've killed him."

"I don't know if it's true." I said, exasperated. "Dumbledore seems to think so but my visions haven't been coming along so truthfully. Besides, it was a dream."

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins." Sirius said in a grim voice, "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So. . . so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament? Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?" Harry asked, pondering this information.

"I don't think Voldemort would be all that happy with him." I said, frowning. "I suppose it's possible though. . ."

"I don't know. . . Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in the goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing. They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff." Harry said, grinning a bit bleakly.

"Right- these dragons. There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell- dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon-"

"Yeah-" Harry started.

"Shh." I said.

"You can do it alone, there is a way, and a simple spell's all you need. Just-" Harry held up his hand to shush him.

"It's just Ron." I hissed.

Harry and I turned and waited apprehensively and indeed, it was Ron. He stared at us and then at the fire, put couldn't see Sirius from where we were.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." Ron said, hesitating in the archway. "Is that. . . is that Sirius?"

Harry and I looked at each other and Harry said, "Yeah."

Ron hesitated and then said, "Er- tell him I said hi. I'll go back to bed." He walked back up the stairs. I turned back to Sirius.

"Ron says hi, but I reckon the witch or wizard will be back soon. I'll tell Harry the spell, Love you."

"Love you too Elizabeth. Good luck Harry."

"Oh, Sirius." I said quickly and grinned broadly, "Harry wants to know if you love him too."

Harry pushed my shoulder so that I nearly fell over, spluttering and blushing, "Shut up Elizabeth."

Sirius snorted, "Of course I do, what a silly question. Also, thanks for the food Elizabeth."

"Bye." I said and with a pop, he was gone.

I yawned and stretched and kissed Harry on the cheek. "Look, I will tell you the spell, not tonight. I want to let Uncl- er Professor Moody talk to you first because he's got a great idea. If he doesn't talk about it though, I'll let you know both things, alright?"

"Sure." Harry said, a bit uneasily. "Night Elizabeth."

"Night Harry." I got up and left the Gryffindor common room and walked back to my own. Would Moody pull Harry into his office? It would be because he talked to Cedric. But would Harry know to talk to Cedric on his own? I was sure he would. I'd keep an eye on it.

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𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 we were sitting at the Gryffindor table eating. Harry looked sick, eating his bacon. We were about to leave for Herbology when Harry said, "Hermione, Elizabeth, I'll see you in the greenhouses. Go on, I'll catch up with you guys."

"Harry, you'll be late-" Hermione started but I interrupted.

"Good idea Harry, we'll see you later." I said, and dragged Hermione down to Herbology.

"What was that all about?" Hermione hissed.

"Just something I foresaw." I muttered back, "Or, hopefully foresaw."

She didn't ask anymore questions.

Today in Herbology, we were pruning Flutterby bushes. Flutterby bushes quivered and shook, throwing their perfume in the air. The perfume was meant to smell differently to a person, and lure the unwary to them. To me, it smelled a bit like the sea. I'd never been to the sea- we'd never had money for a vacation. I'd always wanted to go to the sea and I supposed that's what the Flutterby bush smelled that way.

I worked carefully as I pruned my bush. I didn't want to cut any unnecessary branches. Harry hurried in after about ten or fifteen minutes into class and came over to where Hermione and I were working.

"Guys," He hissed, "I need your help."

"What do you think we've been trying to do, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking at him over her bush with round eyes. They'd been in the library researching for the simple spell that Sirius had mentioned since I wouldn't give it yet.

"I need to learn how to do a summoning charm properly by tomorrow afternoon." Harry muttered.

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𝖂𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖉 of having lunch. Hermione and I worked with him until class was about to start. Hermione wasn't going to skip Arithmancy and I didn't want to skip Care of Magical Creatures (I suppose I could've redone the hour but figured Harry didn't need to miss Divination either).

We ate dinner and then rushed to the classroom we'd been before, working on it. I had started practicing it to, demonstrating, while Hermione said theories would help. We worked late into the night- we had the invisibility cloak.

However, Peeves showed up around midnight, pretending that Harry was throwing things at him and started chucking chairs. We quickly left before Filch was attracted to the noise. I made my way back to the Hufflepuff common room, but saw someone moving down to the dungeons.

Curious, I followed. They were creeping around by the Potions classroom. I followed them in after a couple seconds. They weren't anywhere around which meant that they must be in the office. I hid behind the door, crouching down. They wouldn't see me here in the dark. I drew out my wand, waiting.

The office door opened and I waved my wand but I was to slow.

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𝕾𝖓𝖆𝖕𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 over me, his wand pointed at my face, his own face pale. "Are you okay?" He asked when my eyelids fluttered open.

I grimaced, "Oww, yeah." My head was pounding furiously. I put a hand to my head. "What happened?" I asked.

"I was going to ask you that." Snape said, helping me to my feet.

"I saw someone sneaking around and I followed them. But I guess they knew I was here. . . I don't know how though. . ." I said, frustrated. "I know for a fact that they never saw me. . . they came out of your office. I never saw what he- or she- looked like."

"You shouldn't have followed them." Snape said in a terse voice. "You could have been more seriously hurt than just stunned."

"I. . ." I hesitated. "I was- I was worried." I admitted.

"Why?" He asked, frowning.

"I-" I blushed and turned away and said, "I thought he might try to kill you."

There was a pause. And then he groaned and said, "Damnit!"

"What?" I asked, turning around in shock. He was running a hand through his long hair.

"If he was going to kill me then you most definitely shouldn't have come!" He said very angrily.

"But-"

"No!" He said harshly, slamming his fist against the wall.

I recoiled. I blushed and said, "I couldn't just stand by-"

"You better." Snape said, glaring at me.

We both stared at each other angrily for a long time. Then Snape ran his hand through his hair again and I blurted out, "I l-" I stopped, biting my tongue, blushing furiously. Snape looked at me with piercing eyes. "What?" He asked, a bit curiously.

I shook my head, blushing even more. He took a step closer. My breath caught in my throat and I said, "It's nothing, okay. I'll- I'll go now, I-" He took a step closer, reaching out and taking a lock of my hair. He wasn't looking at me anymore, but looking down. My heart thudded in my chest and I tried to steady my breath.

"Elizabeth. . ." he whispered in my ear and I shivered. His fingers lightly grazed my cheek down to my chin. "Go to bed."

I nodded and choked out, "Yeah. . . of course." I stumbled backwards and turned from the room. I lay in bed, burying my head in my pillow. One of these days, I was going to screw myself up and admit my feelings and I was sure after that I'd have to drop potions or face eternal embarrassment when he admitted he didn't feel the same way.

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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌, I felt horribly sick with nerves. Harry would be facing the dragon tomorrow and while I was sure he would do fine, I had my doubts. My doubts weren't based on Harry, but on whether or not things would play out the way that my visions declared.

At breakfast, I barely ate, drumming my fingers on my sketchpad. Then, I went to Moody's classroom. I didn't have class, but I wanted to tell him about the intruder and to ask him to keep an eye out.

I knocked on the office door and heard a voice growl, "Come in Elizabeth."

"Hey, I just wanted to run something by you real quick." I said, stepping into the office.

"Really?" Moody grunted, drinking from his hip flask. "Doesn't have anything to do with your visions, does it?"

I hesitated, imaging Harry flying past the dragons, "Well, no, it doesn't. Actually, last night, I was helping Harry with his summoning charm. And well, when I left, I saw someone sneak into Snape's office."

Moody frowned, or at least what was an attempted frown. His magical eye was zooming around the classroom, but his normal eye was fixed on me, "Really? Did they take anything? Was Snape there? What happened? Do you know?"

I shook my hand, "They stunned me. I don't think Snape was there though. I don't know if they took anything either, he didn't say. But I wanted to let you know, considering your an Auror, that someone's sneaking around."

"Might be a Durmstrang student trying to help Krum. . ." Moody muttered. "or even a Hogwarts student if they thought something in there would help Diggory or Potter. Don't know why they'd think any potions ingredients would help with this task though. . . though they don't know what the task is so maybe. . . hmm."

"Maybe." I said hesitantly. "I have to get to Charms, but I thought you should know."

"Thank you Elizabeth. I'm sure Snape already told Dumbledore, but I'll let him know you came by as well. It's important he knows. I'll keep an eye on students as well." Moody said thoughtfully.

I nodded and quickly left, sprinting down the corridor so that I would make it to Charms on time.

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𝕴 𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 to Snape's classroom after school ended, but the door opened before I could knock or open it myself. I found myself face to face with Karkaroff.

"What are you doing here?" Karkaroff asked.

"I have a-a private lesson with Professor Snape." I stuttered, blushing. He was so tall!

"A private lesson, huh?" He sneered, leaning forwards. I jerked back, hitting my head against the doorframe, realizing just how unfortunate the situation was. I was frozen in fear, our cheeks almost touching as he whispered, "And how private, is private?" His body was pressed against mine. One hand was on my leg, trailing upwards. I stayed frozen.

"I-"

"Karkaroff!" Professor Snape snapped.

Karkaroff moved backwards slowly, moving his hand up to twirl his goatee. "I see. . ."

"It's not- It's not like that!" I said quickly, shooting at look at Professor Snape, a panic I couldn't explain inside of me.

"She has private lessons with several Professors." Professor Snape said, moving between the two of us. He was shorter than Karkaroff, though not by much, but somehow managed to tower over him at the moment. "Now get out."

Karkaroff snorted but said nothing, leaving the potions classroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" Professor Snape asked quickly, his demeanor changing abruptly.

"Ah. . . no." I said, blushing. "I'm sorry, I should've chosen my words better."

"No matter." Professor Snape said, brushing my apology away. "He's been looking for a chance to get close to you regardless. Shall we start the lesson then?"

"Oh, right yes." I said, sitting down at our usual table where the ingredients and list had already been set out and we started.

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𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 were sitting on either side of Harry in the Great Hall for lunch. None of us were eating much of anything. I supposed it was nerves. But it was worse than before a Quidditch game- which was stupid. I wasn't even competing this time.

"Potter," Professor McGonagall said, coming over to the Gryffindor table, "the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. . . You have to get ready for your first task." Her face was white and though her body and manners seemed steady, her hands were shaking slightly.

"Okay." Harry said, dropping his fork onto his plate mindlessly. It made a loud clatter.

"Good luck, Harry. You'll be fine!" Hermione said.

"Good luck!" I said anxiously.

"Yeah." Harry said in an off-tone voice and followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall. About twenty minutes later, Hermione and I went down to the arena that the champions would be competing in. We were sitting near the teachers. Ginny, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were sitting with us. I looked at Snape, who was looking at me. I blushed and sat down and quickly engaged in a conversation with Seamus and Dean.

Ludo came up on stage at the blow of a whistle. He was commentating again. To bad, I would've liked Lee to have commented. Lee looked bored, in the front row and was looking up at Ludo as though insulted that he'd taken his job.

There was another blow of the whistle and Cedric entered the enclosure. I had my fingers crossed tightly, my sketchpad on my lap. The Swedish Short-Snout was in the arena with him. I remembered that they weren't as vicious as the others and was glad that this was the one that Cedric was going up against.

Cedric transfigured a rock, turning it into a yellow Labrador. I was surprised, that was a pretty good bit of magic. Of course- Cedric was brilliant, no doubt about that. The dog barked at the dragon. Cedric was trying to get around the dragon, as the dragon was drawn to the dog, gaining on it.

It took a long time, Cedric was trying to move very slowly, trying not to draw attention to him moving behind his back. I could see the dragon's nest somewhere behind that. Ludo was commenting, "A neat bit of transfiguration right there. . . wonder if it will work. . ."

Cedric sprinted for the eggs and grabbed the golden egg. The dragon turned, around blowing fire. I screamed- and I wasn't the only one. The fire caught part of his face. The dragon keepers were climbing into the arena now, containing the dragon. I saw that Charlie was among them. I crossed my fingers but no one was hurt.

Cedric was taken to the medical tent to get his face healed up. I realized I was gripping Deans' arm tightly and I let go. "Sorry." I muttered to him.

"It's fine." he muttered back, his face darker than usual.

I made sure to keep my hands to myself after that, gripping my knees instead, digging my fingernails in as Fleur came out next against the common welsh green. Again, not a particularly dangerous dragon. Fleur was muttering and waving her wand and the dragon seemed a bit dazed, as though it was being put into a trance. I wondered if Veela could charm animals as well. Looking around, I noticed so of the guys seemed to be in a sort of a trance too.

Out of curiosity, I looked up at the teachers panel. Snape's face was slack and I started giggling and poked Ginny who looked over and started to giggle too. "She's a Veela." She murmured in my ear. "And Professor Snape. . ."

We giggled harder. We watched as Professor McGonagall looked over and saw Snape's face. She quickly slapped him across the face and he reeled back. I think she was very happy that she got to do that, for as she faced back around, she was smirking.

Snape got up, rubbing his cheek and our eyes met. I was still giggling and sucked in my cheeks and looked away, trying not to laugh anymore. Ginny had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

"It was a bit funny." I muttered. My hand was on my pencil and I was already drawing the scene, still grinning.

The common welsh snorted and flames caught Fleur's skirt as she got close to the egg. She put the flames out with water and got the golden egg.

The common welsh was taken away and the Chinese Fireball was put in place and the whistle blowed for a third time. Krum walked out, looking extremely surly. I wondered if he felt like this before every Quidditch match.

He was very quick in acting, but so was the dragon. The Chinese Fireball didn't get it's name for nothing after all. It kept blowing fire at him and he kept ducking behind rocks that had been strategically placed there as barriers. He was much quicker than Cedric or Fleur and Krum lifted his wand and yelled something. He was using the Conjunctivitis Curse.

The spell hit the Chinese Fireball in the forehead and she bellowed in agony, stumbling around. Krum got the egg but the real eggs were destroyed when she trampled them and then bellowed in agony at losing her eggs. I actually felt a bit bad for the dragon. Imagine losing your babies like that.

There was the fourth and final whistle and I drew closer on the edge of my seat. Harry came out, looking a bit sick. He raised his wand in the air and shouted something that no one could hear over the Hungarian Horntail's roars- but I knew he was summoning his broom. My fingers were crossed so tightly that the blood was draining from them.

Harry stood there for a moment, looking dazed and people started to whisper. But then, I heard a swooshing sound and heads turned to see his firebolt zooming towards him. It stopped dead in midair beside him. The crowd was shouting for joy. Bagman was shouting, "Well who would have guessed this!"

Harry swung his leg over the broom and soared upwards, and then- he smiled.

He was looking down at the eggs and muttering something and I relaxed. Harry was going to do wonderfully. He dived. The Horntail's head followed him though she didn't move. He swerved out of the way as a jet of fire came blowing out.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman shouted, "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Harry soared higher in a circle, the Horntails head revolving on its neck. He was trying to make it dizzy. Harry plummeted again after a moment, dodging flames again. However, the Horntail's tail came up and graze his shoulder, ripping his robes. I screamed again, this time, clutching Ginny's arm. She'd screamed as well.

Harry zoomed around the back of the Horntail and then moved back and forth. Slowly and gradually, he pulled just a little bit further away, just out of reach of the tail and flames. The dragon roared in exasperation, unable to get to him. Then the dragon reared onto her back legs, her wings spread out, blocking the view for some of the other viewers. He dove, going between her legs and scooping the golden egg up under his uninjured arm.

I jumped up with the Gryffindors, cheering!

"Look at that! Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!" Ludo Bagman was shouting excitedly. He looked hot inside his wasp robes- his face was red and sweat was trickling down his face. I reckoned he should be glad to be hot considering how cold it was outside.

I rushed from the stands as Harry landed in front of Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid.

"That was excellent, Potter." Professor McGonagall said, smiling, though her hands were still shaking, "You'll need to seem Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score... Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already.."

"Yeh did it!" Hagrid was cheering.

I threw my arms around him. "You did wonderfully Harry." I whispered in his ear.

"Thanks Elizabeth." Harry said.

I went with him to the hospital tent, feeling very excited. Madam Pomfrey on the other hand, was in a horrible mood.

"Dragons!" She exclaimed in a disgusted tone, pulling Harry inside and making him go into a cubicle. I waited outside, listening to her rant. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky. . . this is quite shallow. . . it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though. . ." A pause, a hiss from Harry and then Madam Pomfrey came out of the tent saying, "Now just sit quietly for a minute- sit! And then you can go and get your score!"

"Hey Elizabeth." Harry called from inside the cubicle. "What's my score?"

"Forty points." I called back. "If my vision is correct, of course. You'll be tied first with Ced."

Harry was on his feet, coming out and I put a hand on his chest. "Sorry, medic in training, go sit down." I said, smirking at him.

"Oh buzz off." Harry said, rolling his eyes jokingly.

Hermione and Ron entered the tent. I kissed Harry's cheek and said, "I'll let you be. I'm hungry."

I started to walk away when I heard someone call my name quietly. I turned to see Barty Crouch there. I stopped walking. He jerked his head, starting to walk towards the Forbidden forest. I hesitated for a second before I followed.

"Let me guess, I was right." I asked, crossing my arms as we came to a stop.

"You need to stay out of this." Mr. Crouch said. "You're just a kid."

Well, that stung. "Just a kid?" I asked, perhaps a bit angrier than need be. "Who warned you about what was going to happen, may I ask? Oh that's right, it was me. The kid. You really ought to listen to me more."

He glowered at me, "Stay out of it." He started to walk away.

"What? That's it? Stay out of it?" I snapped. He stopped turning back to me.

"What? Were you expecting something else?" he asked. His wording, his way of talking, it was all off from the clean, business like man I had met at the Quidditch World cup.

"You're already under it, aren't you?" I asked. "The Imperius Curse, I mean."

There was wavering behind his eyes but he said, "Of course not, that's ridiculous."

"Of course you are." I said, trying to sound kinder than I previously had. "I can help you."

His expression was guarded. "I'm not under the curse."

"So you say." I sighed. "More likely, you're just saying that. I've been under the curse. You're an adult wizard, aren't you? Throw it off. Have the will to throw it off. Cause if I can throw it off and you can't, then you must not want to actually throw it off."

This wasn't true, but I knew anger was a good motivator for throwing off the Imperius Curse. I turned to go and he grabbed my arm, jerking me back.

"Watch your back" he muttered in my ear before letting go of my arm, almost thrusting it away from himself. I tripped over my own two feet, but caught myself before I fell.. He started walking off back towards the tents. I caught sight of McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape, and Moody looking at us from far away, but I pretended not to see them, making my way up to the castle instead.

I shook my head, sighing in disappointment. If only I could help him! Then, I could solve this mystery.

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