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thedovahcat · 6 years ago

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And Then There Was...Wildstar

Since today is the anniversary of the shut down announcement, or at least I think it is, and cuz I’m a copycat and I’ve seen a few people’s introspective posts flying around my dash today, it’s time to add my experience to the pile.

Where do I even begin with Wildstar? It came around during an EXTREMELY volatile time in my life, aka the end of the teens and my early twenties. The real ‘formative years’ if you asked my opinion on it.

I had been an avid WoW fan since I could first play at the age of 13, which had to have been about 2007-2008 abouts. When 2013 or so rolled around, I had been told by friends that a new MMO was coming out, and that it was all space-western-y, my two greatest loves.

Naturally I waited, along with everyone else for a beta, and got in and instantly fell in love with what we’d come to know as Nexus. I was star-struck. The art, the music, the style, the humor, everything hit home with me like no other game had at that point, and I was ready to throw WoW to the wind to go full time and soak up as much of those space rays as I could. And it was even better because it was going to be with friends! I had already established I wanted to bring Rev over and start anew in the Dominion. I had so many new plotlines and ideas whirling around in my head faster than a tornado over a bee farm.

Unfortunately, during this time as well, I saw Wildstar as an escape.

I was being bullied away from WoW at the time by someone who wanted what I had. You think, “Who would do that?? What did they try to do, Dovah?” Many things really. At first they were small aggressions disguised as an interest in trying to befriend me, then that curtain dropped and the aggressions got bigger and bigger.

It was like watching something rot out from the inside. Was I absolutely jealous they were trying to steal a close-now-best friend from me?? Absolutely. I knew it was intentional. I could see it written on the walls. And while I was accustomed to this kind of shit occurring in real life and on the internet to some degree, it only really hurt because for a while, nobody believed me.

Rumors had been planted, people had been told lies and god knows what else, that I was the bad guy of this story. Accused of doing everything that was being done towards me at the same time. It was just another episode of ‘Who Started The Drama’ on Wyrmrest Accord, business as usual amiright?

And I won’t lie, I did try to retaliate several times to stop everything. I got desperate. Said things I meant, said things I didn’t mean, to the point where I couldn’t tell which was which anymore. Everything was wrapped in a huge burrito of panic and fear. And will I be ashamed of that, possibly for the rest of my life? Absolutely positively one hundred percent yes.

After a while, I didn’t fight back anymore. I didn’t make public call-outs, naming names. Sure, did I tell people about it if they asked? Of course, but in private only (because it turned out they too had suffered a similar situation like I was at the time.) Or, sometimes I told people unprompted in private because we happened to talk about our experiences being caught in drama, and I never hesitated to give my side of the story. The side that was RARELY ever heard, to my knowledge. I wanted as many people as possible to know what this person was like and what they were doing to me. For my own sanity, and for the sake of getting the truth out there in some form or another. It was relatively contained as far as I knew, so I rolled over onto my back, ready to accept my lot in life once again as someone’s punching bag because they were jealous of me and what I had and just would NOT go away no matter what happened. Naturally, I thought it really was all my fault that this was happening. We all jump to that conclusion at least once or ten times.

And then came Wildstar, and it had started to look very tempting.

I could start over. I could get away from it all. I could play with my friends ‘in secret’ and not have to worry about being slandered or god knew whatever ELSE had been done at that point on WoW, or wherever else.

Foolish was I to think that my troubles had ended there.

Many people from WoW came to play Wildstar, which was both a blessing and a curse. Moreso the latter in my case.

The person in question found out, began to main the same faction, and just put their hands on everything all over again. I felt as though I had hit a reset button, everything just started over once again. They told people about me, they got me blacklisted and blocked from one of the biggest RP guilds ever to hit the server at the time, and who knows where it branched out from there.

I went silent again. Kind of like a dog with its tail between its legs. The Dominion was no place for me, so, what was I to do?? I didn’t want to abandon this game and world I’d come to love so much in such a short amount of time.

I had never taken an interest in the Exiles. For some reason they hadn’t appealed to me at first. They were the overrated good guys. The underdogs that would always win. I wanted to play the ‘bad guys’ and do my whole spiel about making them more than JUST the bad guys.

But suddenly? As dramatic as it sounds, the Exiles, suddenly sounded very appropriate, in terms of matching up to how I felt.

Exiled. For stupid shit ‘crimes’ I never ‘committed.’

So, I rolled up my sleeves and rerolled Rev’s character, deciding to branch him out in a different direction entirely. I ended up with Roger, and was dumped out into the Gambler’s Ruin, the complete shamble-of-an-arkship. And after that? The frosty bitter cold of the Northern Wastes.

My friend had offered to make another character with me, so that we could play together without being bothered. I had a glimmer of hope. Everything wasn’t over and I wasn’t dead yet (but man did I feel it) and so I pressed onwards.

I saw Algoroc for the first time and all its rolling plains and roans and the mountains and the whole wide open range. It felt so much different than the stormy Levian Bay, or the dark and gloomy Ellevar. The music was lighter, more upbeat, more ‘western’, which is silly because I had stated earlier that that was what I was looking forward to the most. The WESTERN COWBOY YEEHAW aspect of it.

Things were brighter, no less colorful, happier, hopeful. There was SO much land to explore and so many things to do. I was ready. Ready to start all over one more time. So I did.

I made my way through the area, learning about the Exiles and their culture, and the Eldan and whatever sinister happenings they had going in beneath the surface.

Before I knew it, I had reached Thayd, and was absolutely blown away by the size of the city. I was used to large environments from WoW, no doubt. But Thayd felt so interactive for some reason or another. Maybe it was the art style or the NPCs inhabiting it (and the players of course). But it felt alive. There were so many nooks and crannys to get lost in, how will I ever see this whole entire city?? I wondered.

It was a broken mish-mash of all that the Exiles slapped haphazardly together. Different people that didn’t fit together, trying to make something out of lots of little pieces of seemingly nothing.

It was a whole symbolic thing for me essentially.

After that I felt like I was home, in yet another dramatic sense.

Thayd felt right, what with its trashy streets and mismatched themes. Illium and its golden and crimson towers had never struck me as somewhere I belonged.

From that point on, things blur. I explored Galeras after that, introduced to the dire situation that was the Dominion descending upon the Exiles, ready to blast them all to kingdom come to reclaim a planet they believed theirs. I felt the tension, in a good way. It was a great story waiting to unfold, I thought. And I get to see it all from the beginning and be a part of it. I was absolutely ecstatic.

And then, from there, I went to Whitevale. One of the most FRUSTRATING ZONES I will never forget. I don’t even remember why. Maybe it was the size. Over time, I grew to love it in its own weird way, only because I departed for the damn MOON (Farside) afterwards and realized I hated the lack of gravity.

But, despite all. I had so much fun.

I thought about Roger and how he’d come to the Exiles, because I still wanted him to have a connection to the Dominion somewhere. I wanted to try exploring new character tropes and such with him, I wanted to be bold and take chances with ideas and do things I’d rarely seen people do (in my case? Traumatic brain injuries, good going.) I did myresearch, I kept exploring the world, I put all the pieces together little by little and I crafted a story. A story that grew larger and larger and larger and branched out to other characters I created alongside just Roger.

Suddenly I had an entire ‘world’ on my hands. Maybe not one the size of all of Nexus in this instance, but it was ROGER’S world.

I had locations planned thanks to the housing system, I had different story lines going alongside the ‘main one’. Every so often they would mesh and meet up and affect one another, and the ‘world’ would continue to grow from there.

These characters, new as they were, suddenly had lives. They had history, they had jobs, they had all those little aspects of fictional characters that bring them to life. Personalities, likes and dislikes, feelings, all of it. I was no stranger to creating characters, of course they did! In fact, most of them were based off many existing characters I had already HAD, just Wildstar-ified.

Over time, they became their own separate entities, only because they had grown and branched out into different directions I had never dreamed they would.

I don’t remember how long I had been in this enormous creative process of planting my roots. Maybe a year or two? It didn’t really matter. I was having the absolute time of my life.

However, on the back burner I knew all those awful things were still being said about me out there. I continued to play the game and storycraft mostly by myself. I knew if I stayed away from the masses that were WSRP, then no one would ever have any ‘proof’. No one could twist anything I said, or twist interactions I had with people, and use it against me.

You can’t accuse someone of something or things when all they do is play by themselves in their own little box all day long, can you? That was my line of logic.

Naturally I still got blocked from people’s tumblrs and such, which I found out on complete accident when I would try to fav posts. I never showed up to events. I did my artwork and only did artwork of my or my friends characters. Everything was very controlled.

And then one fucking day in August, my name gets tagged in someone’s call out post. At first I fucking panic, because of course. What did I do NOW? I made EXTRA SURE to stay out of everyone’s way. Who could POSSIBLY HAVE A BEEF WITH ME-

I checked the post.

Turns out, I wasn’t the one being called out.

No.

It was that person who’d been HOUNDING me for several years at that point, who was finally being called out.

The original poster had mentioned my name because, according to their words, and I’ll never forget it, ‘they heard through the grapevine’ that all that nasty crap had happened to me. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who had been treated this way. MANY other people had been. There had to have been a good two handfuls of them out there, maybe more, who had been harassed by this person and their crummy friends. I was named in the post, and all the abuse I had took was relayed to the entire damn community (however it was worded in a way that it had to have been from an outsider’s perspective who’d heard the rumors spread about me, and never spoke to me directly. Cuz I didn’t know ANY OF THESE people and some of the details were wrong...but I digress.)

My business was practically on the front page of the Wildstar and WoW RP community (A smaller portion of the latter.) People had known about what happened to some degree. They had been on the receiving end of these rumors, they heard all the bullshit, they looked me up, they saw I had no dirt to my name. Never did anything to anybody. Maybe some of the stories I had told got relayed to them via playing telephone with other people, I’ll have no real way of knowing for certain.

If people didn’t know me then, they sure knew me NOW, I thought.

It turned into a hot fucking mess after that. People came out with their stories, people got angry at the victims, or at the abuser. There was collateral damage from what I could see from my spot in the corner.

That bad person was supposedly reprimanded by their guild leader for the backlash they received, though I’ll never know how big it actually was. It was probably really small, realistically. But like I said, I don’t know.

It was only then that I was finally believed. Like, completely. There were always little shreds of doubt with people, but this? This blew it out of the water.

I wasn’t at fault. People saw it wasn’t my fault.

I felt…

Liberated?? Like the shackles of this depressive, anxious...whatever DISASTER state I was in, finally broke off. And so QUICKLY too. I didn’t really know what the hell to do. There was nothing I COULD do except move on and try to recover.

It was OVER. It was finally fucking over and I was at a loss, because I had grown used to living in a state of panic and sadness and anger and god knows what else.

So, slowly, I started to.

I came to the conclusion, now that it was over, or ‘over’, I wanted to make some new friends.

Roger and company had already been set up and I found very little wiggle room for collaboration with people I didn’t know. So? What better way to fix that than make a new character to use to reach out to new folk?

I grabbed one of my older characters I salvaged from a falling out I had had before this entire post began, fixed him up and threw him into Thayd face first.

And so was the infamous Captain Yaedra reborn. With an e added to his fake name because it was ‘Yadra’ before, yet for some reason both names are said exactly the same way.

I had no idea what to do with him. I hated elves. I hated long ears. They were boring. Everyone was making them and beautifying them and whatever else. I was salty. I wanted to create a raccoon more than I wanted an elf.

The zombie aesthetic definitely helped me some.

I played through all the Mordesh areas, trying to learn as much as I could about their history, about Grismara, about the Contagion.

A zombie story...it utterly fascinated me. And considering I had not changed Captain’s outfit design from his original self in the slightest? Once more, I rolled up my sleeves and began to craft a world. Another world.

Yaedra’s entire world. And by extension, my own version of a portion of Grismara.

His hometown, his career, his life, his family, every little bit. I brought it all to life once more, and soon found myself living in the ‘past’ as much as I was living in the ‘present’. As far as character timelines go.

During all this, I tried being nice to random people, or I saw art and commented on it, I tried to be more open with the community, I even joined another small guild and in the end I ended up making some really great friends who I still talk to today!

They loved what I had created. And I loved their creations in turn. We formed a tight knit group of ‘heroes’ if you would. Got into all kinds of IC shenanigans. It was fun, it was silly, it was dramatic. I didn’t feel any pressure to be anyone in particular. I felt like I could be myself, and so could Captain. We were where we belonged. And it was fantastic. And still is.

From there, I met some of their friends, and so on and so on, and I did end up gaining a small bit of presence in the community via commissions and doing my own artwork as well. Things were finally nice, and calm.

I felt like I had waded through a war of some kind, and finally, at long last, it was OVER. Peace had finally COME. I had gone through a lot of mental trauma, but as the months and several years went on, I slowly came around. I tried very hard to. My dragon scales grew thicker as time went on, and my flames certainly hotter.

And, after a while… I found myself playing Wildstar less and less. Not because I hated it, not at all. But because it no longer felt like a crutch to me. I no longer felt as though I needed it to stay afloat. I had grown and changed, for the better no doubt. I learned to stand my ground from all the knocks I had taken, I learned to start speaking up when things were being done to me that weren’t right, or nice, or whatever. Did I end some friendships that way? Sadly, yes.

But I was done. I wouldn’t be ANYONE’S punching bag anymore.

The Exiles toughened me up. I wasn’t about to take ANYONE’S crap and neither was Captain. Both of us, fists BARED.

My time on Nexus dwindled even more.

I went back to WoW out of habit, and spent more time there. Soon enough I was hardly logging onto Wildstar at all. Many people were bored of the game’s lack of ...everything. Content most certainly. You could only do the same things so many times. I wasn’t part of a huge RP guild that constantly had events going, though I was by the end (but even that was kind of flakey because people just weren’t as interested in the game as they had once been.)

I hadn’t thought much about my story lines or characters. They had, over time, fallen into situations and such that I had long resolved. My ‘characters’ were tired of adventure and drama, and I wanted to give them a chance to have their happily ever afters, via ‘soft-retiring’ them. I still wrote stuff and drew art on the side, just….less of it.

In the months before Wildstar, I rarely thought about Nexus at all.

Until the horn sounded with Wildstar’s imminent closing.

For months prior to that, I had been sitting and watching. I knew it had been on the way. NC SOFT being...NC SOFT of course (with Carbine’s mismanagement in general, though at the time I did not know about this,) made this more than obvious.

So it didn’t come as a surprise to me.

If anything, I felt a sort of subdued melancholy about it.

If I can compare it to anything, it was like watching a pet or something grow old. There was the initial excitement of a new friend, and the beginning years were amazing and fast and fun filled and emotional. And then over time, things grew comfortable. I didn’t need to give Nexus my full attention anymore. ‘We’ had this ‘understanding.’ I could always go back to Nexus whenever I wanted. I always had a place there waiting for me. Characters, fun, stories, etc.

And then I began to move on.

Wildstar for me was a lot of things. It was a period of mental destruction, it was a period of rebirth and growth for me as a person, it was a reminder of the roller coaster ride that was good and bad times all bundled into one. It was my ‘growing up’ period. It was the rocky road of a transitional phase from the end of my childhood, to the beginning of my adult years.

Yes I know this might sound silly, all over an MMO that barely lasted at all, and the last thing I wanna do is be silly, but it’s how I felt. I’m not going to try to disguise it as something else, because that was what it all was to me.

The months sped by and before I knew it, it was the last day the server was up. Wildstar would be closing that evening or afternoon, or whatever. I don’t recall the time.

I had sat there debating whether or not to attend that final count down.

A part of me wanted to. I wanted to be there, to send off this MMO that had meant so much to me!

But another part of it told me to not go.

In the end, I did not go.

Not because I would be crying, or throwing a fit or whatever.

The main reason I didn’t go, was because I wanted to remember Nexus the way it was. I didn’t want to see people bunched up in one area, being turned into all sorts of critters, I didn’t want the lag to destroy my computer, I didn’t want to see their storm of messages and how sad everyone was, I didn’t want to read the Caretaker’s countdown messages saying how he’d miss us, in his own special way.

To me, all that meant Wildstar was due to die at any moment. That Nexus would suddenly cease to be, that all these things everyone worked so hard on, would just be gone, in the blink of an eye.

I didn’t want that to be the last memory I had of that place.

And so, the shut down came. The night went on.

I woke up the next morning, and everything felt ok, for the most part. Yes I felt like I was missing a piece of myself, but it was a lot smaller than I can say for some people.

The hole I had in my heart had mostly patched itself up with nicer memories. With the possibilities that were yet unexplored.

As far as I WAS, and am, aware? Nexus isn’t dead. Not at all. It’s just sleeping, for right now. It’s taking a well needed rest. It’s not really gone.

All the stories, all the characters, they exist in our head spaces. They still go on. I still write for them occasionally.

If anything, I feel like they have even MORE to explore now.

These days, people are working or playing already on private servers, and while I entertain the idea of joining one or finding another group to play with… Well, that’s all it really ends up being. An idea.

I’m perfectly happy with what I got out of Wildstar, and what I got to take away from it and keep.

I grew as a person, albeit the hard way (but that’s just how it is sometimes.) My creativity grew, my ability to make better stories and characters grew alongside that. I made new friends that I still keep to this day. That bad person got their just desserts and my most-likely-over-exaggerated-because-I’m-sure-people-have-gone-through-worse-torment was finally put to rest. I had more confidence in myself, yada yada… You get the idea.

Everything had resolved, for the most part.

Everything was said and done, regarding that chapter of my life.

And what a ride it was.

BUT I have to say, if there’s one specific thing I favor, that I got from this entire putrid mess that I would do it all over again for??

I got Cap back.

So, thank you for returning my raccoon to me, Nexus. I’ll never forget it. One day when those private servers are finished and the game is mostly restored, I’ll definitely come back to play through it again, and most likely come up with even more new adventures for me to write and explore.

Until then, cupcakes! Dovah signing off on this...eight page story-rant!

#wildstar #i didnt mention EVERYTHING in here because it would be even longer #but for the most part this was my experience #and i wouldnt trade it for the world

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askthrillerstuck · 7 years ago

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Thrillerstruck - What to know

Meet the trolls | About the ask blog | Main art blog

Got a question that’s not on here? send it to the blog and we’ll answer!

What is Thrillerstruck?

Thrillerstruck, or simply thrillerstuck, is a fan adventure comic based off of Andrew Hussie’s webcomic Homestuck. Thrillerstruck takes places in a completely different timeline and universe to Homestuck, and has it’s own original plot. Thrillerstruck still classifies as a fanventure, as the concept of sburb and the alien race trolls are all included in the story.

What is the plot of Thrillerstruck? (short version)

Thrillerstruck follows the story of four kids from the future who play a game called sburb and are guided by ‘sponsors’ who are an alien species, trolls. The trolls claim to have a book that has every single detail of the kids’ session written down. However, the book fails to mention the part of the session where everyone falls asleep for 567 years and they almost wipe everything from existence.

What is the plot of Thrillerstruck? (LONG version)

Thrillerstruck follows the story of four kids who live in a Earth set a few decades ahead of us. In 2021, the discovery of life outside our planet was made, and an alien species named Trolls made contact with us. The trolls were ... too far to reach us, so we could only communicate - and thankfully, as humanity is not quite ready for a troll invasion. Over the years though, the humans and trolls forged a friendly alliance, and began sending each other tech and exchanging information about the species’ lifestyle. By 2033, troll culture is largely normalised on Earth and it seems that humans’ prefer it that way.

The story truly starts when the trolls send a ‘secret weapon’, aka sburb, to the humans, but only certain people can access it. By certain people, you guessed it, it’s only accessible by the four kids.

It’s around this time the trolls of our main cast, a network of eleven specifically chosen trolls who work with the empress, begin to contact them, warning them of what to come but also informing them of the fact that them playing the game is inevitable. So the kids enter the game.

The game is not a doomed session or a void session, it’s actually just... normal. The trolls lead them through easily with the help of a pre-written description of everything that occurs in the session, until they hit a bump. The book describes the trolls and humans meeting, which then causes the trolls to admit something they’ve known the entire time: They don’t exist in the same universe. The trolls are actually the product universe of the kids session, and are using advanced technology given to them by the kids to communicate with them.

Annnnd I think revealing any more would be massive spoilers, but here’s some hints: a willingly created boss, gays, death, paradox shit, and awkward family ties. It’s cool.

Can I read Thrillerstruck if I haven’t read homestuck?

If you really want to, yes, but there would be a lot of concepts that might not make sense. If worst comes to worst, you can google stuff.

How long is Thrillerstruck?

Don’t know! It definitely will not be as long as homestuck, but the plot is quite complex and I’m only writing act one just now, so there’s not a solid answer. The only thing I can confirm is it will probably be more than a thousand pages long, and have more than three acts.

When will act one be out?

Again, no idea! I’m writing each act fully before posting them, so after the act is finished being written, around 1-3 updates will come out each day with the illustrations. In the meantime, while I’m finishing up act one this ask blog will be open so you can get to know the characters and plot. Keep in mind, act one will actually be quite short in comparison to the following acts, so I don’t think the wait will be horribly long!

Who are the characters?

You can find info on the main 12 trolls here, but the kids do not feature on this ask blog (unless it’s relevant to the question). The four kids are half siblings Lacy Barosa and Leon Caliso, and (unknown to them) ectobiology siblings Kane Altshul and Deea Whitler. Art of Lacy and Leon can be found here, art of Deea here and here, and poor ol Kane hasn’t been posted anywhere yet. RIP Kane.

Who runs this blog?

In terms of story? The blog is Cylene’s idea, created by Miocep and run by Visana, Naveen, Levian and occasionally Miocep himself. If a question is not specified towards a specific troll, one or more of those trolls will answer it. While the answers they give are canon, technically this blog isn’t. It won’t be mentioned within the story, nor will it affect it.

In terms of like, actual real ass person, the creator, writer and artist of Thrillerstruck, that would be me, Jake. Main blog here and art blog here.

That’s pretty much all you need to know about the blog! Have fun!

#not ask #askblog #ask blog #asks #homestuck #hiveswap #fan trolls #oc #thrillerstruck

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mycrappyrpsideblog · 6 years ago

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📰📰📰 one for each of the ships (or trade Marcel&Veridi for one of the ships)

Going under a read more cause heck, let’s do em all.

[Take me to Church]

What is their name?- “Raivo Tuomita. I think... he doesn’t say his last name very often.”

Relationship with them?- “A lot of things. We’re traveling companions, friends, lovers, confidants, protectors.”

What do you view them as? (family,friend,other)- “My greatest treasure... my love.”

Do you feel attracted to them in any way?- “That’s an understatement.”

What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?- “I think I’d like to build a cabin for us to go back to from time to time. A place to lay low and relax. A place just for us but that we wouldn’t have to worry about leaving alone for periods of time.”

Tell us one memory you have with them.- “Why not when we met? He was in the tavern I was playing in. He was trying not to stare. I was very obviously staring. He was strong and interesting and so handsome. I went over to talk to him and flirt and honestly I was trying to get into his pants but he was nervous and cute... We ended up talking and got on the subject of magic. By the end of the chat Raivo and I came to the agreement I would help him learn some of the magic I knew and he would protect me on the road.”

Anything you’d like to ask them or state to them? If so, say it now, please!- “So, like, I know I flirt a lot and stuff but I want you to know that you really do mean a lot to me. And I’d like to keep getting to know more and more about you.”

[Starlight]

What is their name?- “Levian Yormun.

Relationship with them?- “My handsome matesprit.”

What do you view them as? (family,friend,other)- “Like... I don’t know how to really describe it. He means a lot to me. He was the first person to show me the world. He means a lot to me.”

Do you feel attracted to them in any way?- “PFT. Uh yeah! Duh!”

What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?- “I want to go on a date with all three of us.”

Tell us one memory you have with them.- “He took me to his planet and even though I ended up getting sick at the end of it it’s still the best night I’ve ever had. My first time I’ve ever... I’d never seen anything like that.”

Anything you’d like to ask them or state to them? If so, say it now, please!“Oh..... um... Would you please try and take some time off soon? I want to come by and have time to spend just all of us. Maybe a week? At least a couple days.”

[Bad Omens]

What is their name?- “Teagan Kejibi.”

Relationship with them?- “It is both romantic and sexual. But also a large portion a rivalry.”

What do you view them as? (family,friend,other)- “A lover.”

Do you feel attracted to them in any way?- “Yes. He’s very handsome.”

What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?- “Though I know he’d find it ‘too romantic’ I would like to go on an actual date.”

Tell us one memory you have with them.- “I rather enjoy making him food the when he stays through the day. Though I’ve never made food with his preference of ingredients I feel like I’m getting rather skilled.”

Anything you’d like to ask them or state to them? If so, say it now, please!- “Maybe you should make the expectation of learning relationship customs mutual. I’m fine with angry sex but I am also a very romantic man. We need a balance.”

[Mars x Veridi]

What is their name?- “TheAdorningSage, or just Veridi~”

Relationship with them?- “She’s a fellow grubtube star and someone I look up to a lot. She’s also been teaching me how to do more than eyeliner.”

What do you view them as? (family,friend,other)- “A friend totally.”

Do you feel attracted to them in any way?- “She’s like super pretty but I don’t think I feel that way.”

What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?- “I want to make some more videos with her. Maybe something exciting. Or... hm... I’ll think of something. Like... She plays a makeup game and I give her a video game inspired makeup. Or mix our interests and she helps teach people cosplay makeup tips.”

Tell us one memory you have with them.- “Last time I was on her channel she was playing one of my horror games and she’s such a scardy cat~”

Anything you’d like to ask them or state to them? If so, say it now, please!- “Hey buddy!~ How’s it going? Do you want to hang out sometime? Do some not grubtube stuff?”

#Iva #Cyprus #Ozeric #Marcel #ask meme #Take me to church #Starlight #Bad Omens #princeofdoomrps

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ianasagao · 8 years ago

Note

also chip on your shoulder w levian kill me

Lev is high-strung; even when not in the throes of exams, he is a clenched jaw and hands stained with graphite and piles of books. Most of the school has held witness him snapping at some innocent bystander. It’s only worse when finals week is approaching.

Eli had greeted the lunch table with a quick warning that “Lev is studying.” This simple statement is as good as any, and when Lev throws down his bag a moment later (with no lunch tray and his nose in a copy of Brave New World), everyone makes it a point to not speak to him.

Ian, being his own brand of cold animosity, is the only one to take note; it only takes a glance to notice how Lev is practically shaking, his free hand running through his hair.

(”Quit messing with your hair.” )(“I do it when I’m anxious.” )(“You’re always doing that.”)

Ian clears his throat; it’s so subtle that Lev should’ve overlooked it entirely, but (perhaps sensing it’s directed at him) he scoops his bag up and leaves without ever lowering his book. All of Ian’s common sense is saying he should drop it, but then Eli coughs (it’s a new record: usually people have to talk before Lev leaves), and Ian knows he’s going to be victim of conspiratorial glances.

He catches up with Lev easily enough; Lev has made a science of many things, but walking through crowds while reading isn’t one of them. He doesn’t grab Lev (that’s a perfect way to be screamed at), but falls in step beside him. Lev tenses and clicks his tongue, and Ian stays silent.

It isn’t until the two of them have settled on an outside bench, Lev deciding that he’s stuck with this turn of events, that Ian says anything. “You always pass the exams.”

“Passing doesn’t mean anything.” Lev barks back, his stare boring into his book (he’s long since stopped reading, but to put his book down would be to admit defeat). “I have to do well.”

Here, Ian pauses; they’ve had this discussion a million times (they both want to do well, but for Ian, it’s a couple hours of studying to maintain a good average, and for Lev, it’s panic attacks and a perfect score that he might’ve accomplished without his theatrics). “You’ll do well without all this.”

Lev turns the page of his book nearly violently; a moment’s glance, and he turns the page again just as violently – it’s abuse of his ability to speed read, and Ian recognizes it as a request that the conversation be dropped. Ian doesn’t accept it. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s high school exams, not the end of the world.”

Lev’s breath hitches, and he finally drops the book in his lap. Perhaps looking for an excuse, he ducks to dig through his bag, pulling out a textbook that Ian knows isn’t from the school. It’d be comedic if Lev didn’t seem on the verge of tears as he flips to a marked page.

“Your parents are paying for you to be here.” The fact is mumbled through clenched teeth, and when a response doesn’t come, Lev continues. “If you fail, they can – they can pull some strings. Do you know what I had to do to get here?”

Ian actually does attempt to speak here, but Lev cuts him off, managing to scribble notes down as he mutters a list of complaints. “Four languages, recommendation letters, essays – perfect scores on the entry exam. Did you even take the entry exam?”

Ian sighs, well aware of the point that Lev is sharpening. Lev glances at him expectantly, and Ian answers calmly. “No.”

“No.” Even though Lev had to know that this would be the answer, it practically tore through his throat, as if Ian’s answer was symbolic of every fault that Lev had ever been met with. Lev laughs, taking in a shaky breath even as he shakes his head. “You’re this -- this little rich kid who could do anything, and you aren’t even ... you don’t ...”

“Lev.” Ian reaches over, holding his hand over Lev’s shoulder until Lev leans over and closes his eyes. Neither of them want to deal with Lev crying, and for a moment, they’re quiet. Ian searches for something to say, but every time he opens his mouth, he swears Lev stiffens. Eventually, he settles with the easiest. “You know this isn’t healthy.”

Ian is beginning to wonder if Lev is getting much needed sleep when Lev speaks again, his voice soft with exhaustion. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Ian tries to protest, really, but before he can, Lev is gathering his books and stumbling in the general direction of class; it’d take a death to keep him out of school.

Ian sighs and presses his fingertips into his palms; eventually, he opts to skip class, knowing that (if nothing else), he’d see Lev when he got the inevitable lecture later on.

When Lev gets back his final grades weeks later, he barely glances over the scores before filing them in a folder, as underwhelmed by the perfect results as he was overwhelmed by preparing for them.

#firefliesellie #i lost the meme for this so y'all can do without #levian #levi writes #spaqueuetti #this actually made me upset jsadkf

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syllarinfirinne · 7 years ago

Text

Velora’s Journal, Entry #2

Entry # 2

So. It turns out that Swiper is indeed a child. Only 18. But none of them would leave. Levian, brave short sighted idiot he is, was actually offended that I’d ask. He thought I was questioning his bravery and honor. Nothing can be further from the truth. The weeks I’ve spent with these people, they are the bravest people I’ve met in my adult life and the world needs people like them in it. That’s why I didn’t want them to come through the portal with me. I hope he knows that. He rallied the group to stay with me, even though Swiper (smartly) had one foot out the door. Levian’s got it into his bullheaded mind that we’re a group and they owe me some level of loyalty and that if I’m willing to risk my life they should risk theirs as well. He went as far as to offer to officially hire Swiper to retain her servies when we went through the portal Wilco also put forward the idea of helping Swiper find her family. If we can do that for her, if we survive that would be wonderful.

After we went through the portal, which turned out to be as easy as speaking a phrase, we were transported here. It’s freezing, but quite beautiful. I have to imagine we’re in one of the mountain ranges to the north. Upon arriving the cold air was soothing, helping me recenter with nature in the sudden new environment. We had to take out some Trolls, which proved more disgusting and creepy than I care to remember, I turned into a sabertooth tiger for the first time, which was fun. Bigger and faster than a Direwolf, stronger too.

After dispatching the Trolls everything went to shit. As a tiger I was able to smell a draconic presence both in the air and around the outside of a hunting lodge that was nearby. I froze. Suddenly I was back in Greenest, blue dragon reigning havoc from above. A blink, and I was in the woods. A scared child running for my life while my family burned around me. Running. I...I left them. A blink and I’m back standing in the snow. White death hundreds of feet away.

The rest of the day has been a bit of a blur. I told everybody about the potential dragon in the sky and we retreated into the lodge, we learned later it was run by the cult. I tried to explain, again, just how dangerous the situation is once we got inside. Only Swiper seemed to get it. Levian and Wilco seemed to be unphased. I tried to tell them about my parents...about my tribe. But I couldn’t. Thankfully Lev changed the subject for me. I’m convinced that Velrissa has no idea what kind of danger she’s in. She openly joked about having befriended a blue dragon named Meyg mere minutes after I told them what I saw in Greenest.

After exploring some of the lodge we found our way into the office of a woman named Talis the White. After some tense discussions because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut (again), we agreed to take some Wyverns to a flying castle the Cult had procured to mess with a shipment of treasure in order to hurt Rezmir’s standing within the Cult. Long term, I know an organization fighting itself from the inside makes them weaker from the outside, but part of me still wanted to throttle the woman while she was sitting in front of me. But it’s been decided. The plan is to intercept this castle before it reaches Rezmir’s current location. The group did vandalize Talis’ room and steal a bunch of her gold though, which is nice. Especially if we get away with it.

#Velora's Journal #Personal #Hoard of the Dragon Queen: Velora's Revenge #D&D 5e #D&D OC

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dralentines-day · 8 years ago

Text

Gift #4, @levians

Hey @levians , try LOVEians. This gift is for you!

Our gifter says:

“Hello! Happy Valentine’s Day, love!

This is my present for you (I apologize in advance for any mistake, English is not my first language)

Enjoy! <3

Playlist (if you want):

Ellie Drennan – Ghost

Charlie Puth – Enemy

Snakehips – Cruel

Astrid S – Jump

Frenhip & Emily Warren – Capsize

Valerie Broussard – Trouble

Gavin James – For You (Bearcubs remix)

The Weekend – High for this

Nick Jonas ft Tove lo – Close

Snakehips & MO – Don’t leave

Flume ft Tove lo – Say it

Christine and The Queens – Here

Broods – Bridges

KINGDM – Can’t get over you”

Untitled - This is from Harry’s point of view. He is feeling bitter and alone after the war. Comes Ron and Hermione’s annual Valentine’s Day dinner and Harry needs a date. Blaise Zabini offers to bring someone. That someone turns out to be no other than Draco Malfoy. 9518 words.

Tags: no smut, a little agst, FLUFF

-Come on, Harry! This will be fun!

Fun. That’s not exactly how Harry would describe an afternoon with Ron and Hermione nowadays. It’s not that he didn’t like to spend time with them. It’s just that lately, Harry felt like the third wheel of a particularly cute and annoying car. There were always cuddling, calling each other names, caressing each other… Harry loved his two best friends but really, he could have done without the caressing.

If he was honest with himself, which lately he tended to be, he was fairly jealous. He had never imagined what his life would be like after the war, mainly because he didn’t think there would be any life after the war. Not for him.

Nobody knew what had really happened that day, the day he had confronted Voldemort. Nobody knew he had died. He didn’t like to talk about it and nobody liked to hear about it. Hermione had tried to gently push him to tell her and he had not so gently pushed her away. Ron didn’t ask. He knew better than to pry. The only thing he had asked was why Harry and Ginny had broken up. He had told him what he wanted to hear: that they didn’t fit together anymore, that they wanted time to themselves, time to recover, to heal from the war.

The truth was, Ginny had left him. Not because she didn’t love him anymore. In a way, he knew she would always love him, just like he would always love her. No, simply because the boy she had fallen in love with wasn’t there anymore. He had died that day with Voldemort. All that was left was the memory of him, of that foolish, arrogant child who thought he could take on the entire world by himself. And although some would say he had succeeded, others (such as himself) would say the opposite. Because he had discovered that you couldn’t just kill darkness. Once you were acquainted, it became a part of you.

For Harry, that was a rather large part of him.

-Salath seth tith… (Fucking hell)

Hermione gave him a stern look. She wasn’t a fan of Harry using parseltongue more often lately. But Harry found he enjoyed using it immensely. After all, he was bitter and alone. It had never felt more appropriate.

After two or three minutes of disapproving stare, Harry rolled his eyes and finally gave in.

-All right, all right. I’ll come along.

Hermione’s face broke into a big grin and Harry felt his chest warm up. She began to gather her stuff while explaining in various, too precise details what they were going to do. Harry just watched her with a fond, exasperated smirk.

-Sorry, mate, Ron apologized quietly so Hermione wouldn’t hear him.

-It’s okay. I guess it will do me some good to get out of the house.

To this, Ron just laughed.

-Dude, you’re never in the house. I have to call every time I want to come over to make sure you’re not half way across London.

Harry smiled in apology. It was true. He didn’t like staying in Grimmauld place much. It reminded him too much of Sirius and the Order. All of those people were dead, including his godfather, and being in that house reminded it to him every day. Plus the place was shabby and old and creepy. His only company was Kreacher when he wasn’t bringing someone over. Which he rarely did.

So, yes. He was definitely running away from this place.

-Earth to Harry.

-Sorry. I zoned out again, didn’t I? You were saying?

Ron shook his head and a tiny smile came to tease his lips.

-I said you should bring Sebastien at this weekend’s diner. I think Seamus and Dean will be there. It would be nice.

The monthly diners were something Hermione organized regularly to keep herself updated on everything that went on with her friends. Harry liked them, but he also tended to run away from them as fast as he could. Everyone always had their lives sorted or at the very least a plan. He didn’t. He just enjoyed life as it came when he could. He already had many responsibilities with the Ministry of Magic and war testimonies and trials and blah blah blah.

However, he knew he couldn’t run from this diner. It was Hermione’s special Valentine’s Day.

That meant he had to come with someone. But he could not bring Sebastien.

Sebastien was Harry’s… well, sex friend. There weren’t exactly, most definitely, not a couple. Harry did not want to introduce him to his friends and he was pretty sure Sebastien did not want to introduce him to his either.

-I’ll ask him. I doubt he’ll be available though.

Ron tilted his head and his eyes came to rest on Hermione.

-That’s too bad. You know how that would really make Mione happy.

Harry felt bad as he watched his friend talk to Kreacher about whatever it was those two talked about.

-All right… I’ll try to bring someone.

Ron nodded but his face didn’t lit up. He already knew Harry would come alone. He always did.

Hermione finally finished her gran talk and motioned for them to follow her outside. Ron elbowed Harry who was lost in thought again and the two of them grabbed their coat before apparating.

—-

They arrived in the middle of Piccadilly Circus. Hermione began to explain Muggles decorations for Valentine’s Day and their significance. Harry thought that it really didn’t take a genius to deduce their meaning. He kept his remarks to himself.

He thought about their last Valentine’s Day. The first they had celebrated after the end of the war, three years from then. He thought about coming out to his friends, about their mild surprise, far from what he’d imagined. He thought about the way it hadn’t bothered anyone. He thought it would. He thought he would at least get one rejection. But no. They didn’t seem to care. He should have known. You tend not to care too much for things as futile as sexuality when you have known the amount of death and destruction they had.

Wednesday was always a busy day on Piccadilly Circus. They had trouble crowding into the shops, buying useless things. Harry quickly gave up after the third. He bought himself smokes and waited for them outside, his thoughts occupied with who he would bring to that god forsaken diner.

They came out of the sixth shop with another girl. They talked for a few minutes before she left them with a big smile. She eyed Harry on her way out and she blinked playfully at him. That tended to happen a lot lately. He didn’t know if he had changed much since Hogwarts but he never got this kind of attention there. Sure, he had begun to hit the gym regularly to keep in shape, although he still indulged in prolonged broomstick flights, which did nothing for his hair (a lot longer than how he used to wear it). He had changed his style, or rather he had finally gotten one. At Hogwarts, he had just been wearing sorcerer’s robes, and before that, Dudley’s clothes. There hadn’t been much picking. Now he wore fitted jeans, soft t-shirts and Sirius’ old leather jacket with the Black on black inscription on the sleeve, just above the drawing of a rose. He had found it upstairs in one of Grimmauld place’s old cupboards. The jacket had clearly lived and the leather suffered through enough, but Harry loved it. He now wore it every day. He also wore Hermione’s Christmas present: a black scarf, the softest thing.

-Harry! Emily (which he assumed was the girl) was just telling me about the photo booth they have put up for Valentine’s Day. Let’s go take a picture.

Harry was tired. He hadn’t done much sleeping last night. In fact, he never did much sleeping. The nightmares were always there, lurking, waiting for him to close his eyes. So many people were dead, so many his own fault. All of this because they had chosen to protect him. What a stupid choice to make.

He smiled softly at Hermione.

-You go ahead. I am going to head back.

She pouted and Ron silently apologized in advance.

-Come on! Just one! She pleaded.

Harry shook his head and his smile broadened.

-All right. Just one.

—-

Turned out they did ten. Yeah. Ten.

He was pacing on Ginny’s floor, her apartment far too small for his large frame. She was seated on the sofa, watching the photo booth strips. Harry had gotten three, three strips of four pictures with his best friends. Twelve pictures were he looked happy.

This had been two days ago.

-Stop freaking out, she muttered.

-I am not freaking out.

She drank a sip of her tea and rose an eyebrow at him.

-Then stop ruining my goddam floor.

He sighed and dropped next to her, making the whole couch shake. She spilled a little bit of her tea and hit him on the shoulder for it. He ignored her and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up completely.

-What am I going to do, Gin! I have to find a date for tomorrow or else Mione’s going to kill me.

-Why don’t you go alone like you usually do?

-Because it’s Valentine’s Day! Also because I want to make an effort.

-Well, that’s new.

It was his turn to nudge her.

-Shut up.

She smirked.

-So why don’t you ask Sebastien?

He rolled his eyes and got back up to poor himself a cup of coffee.

-You know why…

-Okay, so go out there. I bet you’ll find a date in about two seconds.

-Sure, why don’t I just go and meet someone? “Hi, my name is Harry, would you like to go on a first date with my very best friends where we talk magic and Hogwarts and griffins and all of those things you don’t know exist?”

-Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that.

There was a short pause before she quietly asked.

-What about a sorcerer?

To this, Harry just stared. Ginny nodded. He didn’t date sorcerers, mainly because half of them were more interested in Harry being The Boy Who Lived than being Harry.

-I know a guy.

They both turned to face Blaise Zabini, Ginny’s boyfriend.

-You do? Harry asked, hopeful.

He hadn’t liked Zabini very much at Hogwarts, mostly because he had never really tried to know him. He’d assumed that Zabini was a little shit, like he’d assumed other Slytherins to be. Turned out he had been wrong. They hadn’t hit it on at first, but Harry was always hanging with Ginny and eventually, Blaise had let the cold bastard façade down. Well, not all of it, but enough for Harry to see through the crack.

Zabini shrugged and he strode comfortably towards the couch where he took a seat beside Ginny. She popped her feet on his lap and he began to massage them while peering at the pictures. Ginny just watched him thoughtfully. Harry brought him a cup of tea and took a sit in the armchair facing them.

-Who is he? he asked.

-Someone from our school. Someone who doesn’t give a shit if you’re The Boy Who Lived or some guy I just know.

-Do I know him? Harry asked, waiting hopefully.

-No. He’s a Slytherin. You didn’t exactly hang out with that crowd back in Hogwarts…

Harry watched Zabini with a little relief.

-Can he make it for tomorrow night?

Zabini shrugged.

-Sure. He owes me a favor anyway.

Harry smiled his 3000 watts special Colgate white smile, the one that lit up an entire room. The one that gave you wings, hope and love. The one you were sure would serve you the entire world on a silver platter if you asked.

-You’re the best! Come here!

Harry jumped on Zabini and Ginny quickly withdrew her legs.

-Potter! Get the fuck off!

Harry kissed Blaise’s shaved head and gave it a good shove. He laughed like the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. Ginny watched him with a fond smile.

-I am off then. Thanks again, Blaise. Goodnight to both of you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

He winked and they both answered a ritual, slightly exasperated “yeah, yeah” before he disappeared through the door.

-Was that wise? Ginny asked once he was gone.

-I don’t know about wise, but it sure will be fun.

Blaise leaned in to kiss Ginny lightly. She answered by a much stronger, much more passionate kiss.

-At least he won’t get bored, Blaise whispered.

To that, Ginny just laughed.

-No. No, he won’t.

—–

Harry was on his way to his house when he received a text from Sebastien.

My place, one hour? ;) ;)

Harry answered a quick affirmative and turned around. He was feeling hopeful for his date. Perhaps, this time it would be different. Perhaps, this time it would work.

—-

Turned out Sebastien was happy to see him. Like, really, really happy.

As they both lay in bed after the umpteenth round of hot, rough sex, Harry finally found sleep, completely exhausted.

He was woken up by a gentle hand on his bicep and a quick nudge.

-Harry. Harry, wake up. It’s three pm.

He wanted to sleep again. He had had nightmares last night (like all nights before) and had just fallen asleep three hours ago.

-Slythara sin say… (Let me sleep)

-What’d you say? Never mind. Come on, Harry. I have to get going.

-Fine, fine, I’m up, I’m up.

He grabbed his clothes and put them on. Sebastien made him a cup of coffee and practically pushed him out of his apartment. Harry didn’t mind. He retrieved his bike and headed back home. He had a date to prepare for.

—-

Harry had never been good at these kind of things. He didn’t know how to handle dates. He hadn’t had many at Hogwarts and the few he had had since hadn’t turned out so well. He always screwed up at some point. The Boy Who Lived wasn’t meant to live a normal life. Harry Potter just didn’t know how to do it.

So, of course, he came home tired and collapsed on the sofa. Of course he fell asleep, now out of all times. Of course, Kreacher didn’t wake him, this time of all times. And of course, he ended up being already late.

He showered and washed his hair in a hurry, quickly decided on black pants instead of his jeans. He rolled the pants on his ankles and traded his usual combat boots for a pair of black sneakers, impeccable and by far his favorites. He threw on a navy blue shirt and a matching blue sweater. He grabbed his leather jacket and his leather gloves, giving up on styling his hair. It never worked anyway.

He left with a quick goodbye to Kreacher, already half an hour late.

—-

He pulled up in front of the house twenty minutes later, thanking Merlin he knew alternative routes to go to Ron and Hermione’s. The roads were absolutely packed and he wouldn’t have made it at all if he hadn’t known any other way.

He could have apparated there but, frankly, Harry just loved to ride the motorcycle. It felt relatively similar to a broomstick, only without the flying part.

He could only make a faint silhouette in the dimly lit porch. He had switched his glasses for contact lenses under the helmet but the figure still remained indistinct.

He dismounted the bike and put down the stand. He took off the helmet and pulled a hand threw his hair in a vain attempt to tame his wild locks. He opened his jacket and rolled his shoulders, stretching at the same time. He heard the door slam violently behind him and he jumped around, wand in hand. But nobody was there. The mysterious figure was gone.

Harry tucked the wand back in and shook his head. He needed to get a hold on himself. Now.

He took a deep breath and finally, he knocked.

Hermione was the one to answer. She looked good, her red hair all puffy, a light touch of make up on her face, a simple black dress on. If he wasn’t so very very gay, he would have stolen her right there and then.

-Harry, she scowled fondly. You’re late.

-I know, I know. But look what I brought.

He pulled the hidden bottle from behind his back, a French bottle of red wine (thank Merlin Grimmauld place had quite a few of those). She smiled with awe and examined it.

-I’ll let you bribe me this once.

He nodded and she walked away with the bottle. Ron poked his head out of the kitchen and grinned at him. Harry grinned back.

He made his way inside, careful to leave his helmet, gloves and jacket in the hall (or else Hermione would kill him). He was surprised how happy he felt to see everyone. It had been a while. He was glad to see everyone was okay. He quickly scanned the ranks: Seamus and Dean, Neville and Luna, Pansy and Parvati, Padma and George. He spotted Ginny in the kitchen with her brother and made his way to say hi. She was opening the wine and talking to Ron at the same time.

-…don’t know if it was a good idea, she was saying.

Ron shrugged.

-He would have found out eventually.

-What would I have found out? Harry asked as he stepped inside.

Ginny turned around and arched an eyebrow.

-Who your date is.

-And who is he?

It was Ron’s turn to face him. He took one of his cooking gloves off and began to massage his neck. He only did that when he was embarrassed.

-Look mate, don’t take this the wrong way….

But Ron was interrupted by a familiar voice.

-Granger, I am not drinking that thing, darling.

Harry’s entire body froze and his eyes grew so wide he thought they might just burst out.

-Yes, yes, I know, the voice continued. I will. Zabini get your ass back here, I’m not done with you.

Harry looked at Ron’s flushed face and he blinked several times before looking at his sister. She was laughing at her glass, not even attempting to hide.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

He turned around.

DRACO fucking MALFOY was standing in the doorway. In Ron and Hermione’s fucking kitchen. Draco FUCKING Malfoy.

But wait a minute, no. That couldn’t be. Ron and Hermione hated Malfoy. Malfoy hated Ron and Hermione. Plus, Harry remembered Draco Malfoy. He really did. Draco Malfoy had never been this… hot.

He wore light grey pants, with trendy white shoes and a charcoal sweater that brought out his steel grey eyes. His white hair was tucked neatly behind his ears, except for one lose strand on his forehead. He looked imperiously debauched and casually smart.

It took Harry’s breath away.

-Surprise, Ginny whispered in his ear. Here is your date.

Harry turned from awe to anger in a millisecond. His green eyes flashed dangerously and he turned them back towards Malfoy. He had finally seen Harry and was detailing him with his usual contempt. He didn’t seem surprised.

-Potter.

-Malfoy.

Malfoy’s voice was the same as the one he remembered: a clear chant with a delicate roll of posh accent. Harry’s voice, however…. Malfoy made a face, indicating his surprise. It was lower and much more similar to a growl at that precise moment.

They stared at each other. The last time they had seen each other had been in a court house of the Ministry of Magic, three years ago. Harry had watched the trial unfold. He didn’t want to but he had to. His testimony was required. He had testified, everyone knew that, but no one knew what he had actually said. It was better they didn’t.

Why? Because he could have drowned Malfoy, sent him to Azkaban. Instead he told them about the night Malfoy couldn’t kill Dumbledore, he told them about the manor and Malfoy saving him, he told them about the battle of Hogwarts and the Malfoys helping him. He told them about the Malfoy he had seen and the one he had thought he had seen.

Standing there, facing him in his friends’ kitchen seemed unrealistic. Like a particularly fucked up dream, or a particularly fucked up setup.

Zabini came in and interrupted the starring.

-Zabini, Harry growled again, what is this?

Zabini rolled his eyes and accepted the glass of wine Ginny had poured him.

-This is a Malfoy. A very good specimen dare I say.

Malfoy eyed him angrily and rolled his eyes. He took a step towards Ginny and tucked a hand in his pants’ pocket.

-Give me one of those, please.

Ginny chuckled.

-You’re going to need it, she answered.

He nodded and was rewarded with a glass of red wine. Harry barely registered the action, his mind too preoccupied with what had just happened: had Malfoy just said please? Had Ginny just laughed at something he had said?

-Okay, somebody explain. Now.

Ron began to speak but Ginny interrupted him.

-Draco has been to a few of Hermione and Ron’s dinner. To all the ones you skipped actually.

Harry did not waver. His eyes just scanned the room looking at Ron, Ginny, Blaise and Malfoy. Malfoy who was purposefully avoiding his gaze, staring at the wall. Harry should have also avoided looking at him because now he couldn’t stop. It was messing with his head, his stomach, his legs. His heart was beating faster than normal and everything felt… like he had just stepped into an alternate universe.

-Pansy and Blaise brought him once, Ron tried. We talked and, I don’t know, we kind of became…

-…Friends, Hermione finished for him. Draco is welcomed here, Harry.

Draco?! Since when had Malfoy become Draco?

Since he’s attended all the diners you missed, you git.

Hermione was still watching him, a clear warning in her eyes. This was her decision. He shouldn’t interfere.

A veil of calm came over him and the dangerous glim in his eyes disappeared. He nodded comprehensively and everybody seemed to relax instantly, letting out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

-Excuse me, he managed.

Hermione let him come through. He grabbed his jacket and opened the door. Merlin, he needed a smoke.

-If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know you were coming either.

Malfoy was outside without a jacket, the cool air gently ruffling his hair. Harry was smoking, leaning against his bike, his hair completely messy after running his hand through it multiple times. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to react. This was an unusual situation.

He didn’t hate Malfoy, not anymore. He knew they were kids when everything that had happened had happened. He knew he had had to do things to protect his family, just like Harry had had to.

But the thing that confused him the most was that he knew now, sitting on a bike outside his best friends’ house, starring at his former nemesis shivering slightly under the moonlight, he knew he had missed him. Missed the challenge he’d always provided, in fucked up ways yes, but still. Blaise was right. Malfoy couldn’t give two shits if he was The Boy Who Lived.

He hummed in response to Malfoy’s statement. The figure in the moonlight (that had to be him) was staring at him.

-How long? Harry asked.

How long have you been friends with my friends? How long since you’ve been in this house and I haven’t had the faintest idea? How long have you been within my reach?

-I don’t know. Maybe a year and a half.

Harry watched Malfoy come over without fear. He leaned against the portal and watched Harry, his arms folded on his chest.

A year and a half. Merlin, that was a long time.

-I am glad you found them, Harry said.

This was half true. He was glad he had found good friends, that he had changed (he must have if he was here). He was not glad, however, he had not played Harry like they used to, attempted to come at the same diners he did, picked a fight with him, left him clues of his presence here. He didn’t know why, but in his mind, Malfoy had always been more interested in him rather than his friends, picking on them to get to him.

It appeared now that he had been wrong.

-Even so, I’m not saying I’m happy about this situation, he completed.

To this, Malfoy just snorted.

-You mean me being your date?

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

-And you think I am? Merlin Potter, get over yourself.

Harry threw his smoke angrily.

-Oh yeah?! Then why do you look so good about this?

Malfoy just starred and Harry realized too late what he’d said.

-Cool. I meant, cool about this.

Malfoy smirked.

-Well, I saw you when you arrived so I kind of had time to bash Zabini’s face in. Metaphorically speaking.

Harry just starred again, his green eyes blazing.

-What’s the matter, Potter? Scared I’m going to steal your friends?

-More like scared you’re going to steal their souls.

This was ridiculous. They sounded like four year olds. That didn’t seem to stop them though.

Malfoy’s eyes were now shinning with the same anger Harry felt, steel going darker.

-I see you still have that good old Dementor kink, he mocked.

Harry closed in on him, invading his personal space. His body was so close to Malfoy’s he could practically feel him shiver through his clothes.

-Why don’t you shut the hell up?! Harry menaced.

Malfoy just smirked again.

-Why don’t you make me?

And Harry didn’t think. He just wanted to shut him up. So he kissed him.

It was hard and rough and completely unexpected and he realized that dear God, he didn’t mind.

He pulled out quickly enough though and angrily (-ish) growled in Malfoy’s face.

-There. All shut up.

And for the first time he was. All completely shut up. His lips were swollen, his grey eyes wide and his ears red. He had stopped shivering.

Harry quickly turned around before he did something stupid (like kiss him again) and strode back inside. He avoided the curious looks and the raised eyebrows, dropping his jacket in the hall and coming to seat in the living room next to Seamus. He smiled at him knowingly.

-You okay, mate?

-I hate all of you.

Seamus laughed and a glass of whiskey suddenly appeared in front of Harry. He crossed the eyes of Ginny on the other side of the room and she raised hers. Peace treaty. Fine. He took his and nodded before downing it all at once. The glass immediately refilled.

-I am going to get drunk, he whispered when he drank the other refill.

-I think that’s the idea, Seamus said and drank his own glass.

Finally, there was the noise of the door and Harry’s body tensed just a little. Draco appeared in the doorway of the living room and Harry’s eyes instantly shot up at him. Then at his lips.

No. NoNoNoNoNoNo. No good. No good at all.

There were still red and now, oh god, now he was licking them. His eyes were flashing grey lightning bolts and Harry’s heart was beating just a little too fast to be normal.

He kept his scowl on. He couldn’t have the whole room know he’d kissed Draco Malfoy and wanted to do it again.

The stare lasted way, way, way too long, even for a nemesis one and Harry was the first to look away when he felt his phone vibrate.

Thank Merlin for that.

He quickly checked his messages: Sebastien.

I think you left something at my place… Come and get it tonight?

What? Harry thought hard. He hadn’t left anything at Sebastien’s, he was quite sure of it. But why was he…. Oh. Oh. Subtle Sebastien, he thought sarcastically.

His eyes shot up when he heard Ron shout something resembling the lines of “get the bloody hell out of my kitchen” and he caught Malfoy staring at him completely unashamed. He was seated on the armchair opposite him, a glass of red wine in his left hand. His impossibly long legs were crossed, revealing the barest inches of skin on his ankles. Harry’s eyes were caught there for a moment, then retraced the path back up to Malfoy’s face. He was watching him, his eyes narrowed. Harry blushed a tiny bit and he quickly typed his reply.

Sorry but can’t right now. I’m on a date.

He tucked his phone away and grabbed his whisky. He took a few greedy gulps before he dared to watch Malfoy again. He was talking to Pansy now, his eyes focused on her. Harry starred at them with all the heat he could manage. Both of them turned briefly to watch back and Malfoy raised a brow at him. See, asshole, I can do it too. They resumed conversation.

Soon, Ron was calling everyone to come join the table and Hermione was arranging their seats. All couples were to be seated separately. Harry ended up seated between Luna and Pansy while Malfoy, on the other side of the table, sat between Blaise and Hermione. Ron took a seat directly across Harry’s and sent him one of his looks, the ones they had learnt to communicate with.

Still mad? It said. Harry shook his head negatively. He raised his chin and silently asked You’re okay with this? and by this he meant Malfoy in their home. Ron nodded and he nodded in return, reassured. He felt someone boring holes into his skull and he turned to see Malfoy watching him. He frowned What do you want? Malfoy just rolled his eyes. Idiot it clearly said.

The whole dinner went well, although for Harry it felt a little foggy. He kept losing the thread of conversation with Luna (already difficult to follow when you were paying attention). Except he wasn’t at all. Malfoy and he kept sending each other glares and dark looks and stares, to the point where, at dessert, Pansy leaned towards him and whispered in an annoyed tone.

-Would you please stop eye-fucking each other? I am trying to eat, here.

Harry blushed furiously and he coughed in his hand. He tried to avoid eyeing Malfoy after this but it was damn near impossible when the man kept burning holes in his scalp half the time, and focusing on his chocolate mousse half the other, licking the spoon SINFULLY.

Harry stared (not). He stared and his trousers suddenly felt tight.

Well, shit.

His phone buzzed again.

He didn’t know if he was glad to be distracted from Malfoy’s tantalizing tease, the bastard, or if he was just annoyed to miss the show.

Sebastien again.

Are you really? Well, you could always bring him ;) ;)

An image passed through his mind: Sebastien pulling on Malfoy’s clothes and enjoying that soft, perfect skin. Definitely not.

Can’t. Talk to you later.

He put his phone away and looked up. Malfoy was starring again. Harry just winked.

Oh no. Why didn’t he think before he acted? He watched Malfoy’s face slowly decompose and he swallowed visibly. Harry just preferred to ignore the whole vicinity of that pale, long neck and resumed his one-sided talk with Luna.

The dinner ended shortly after, all eager to get back home for Valentine’s Day. People exchanged goodbyes, thanked Ron and Hermione, hugged each other. Except for Zabini. Harry just tackled him on the floor. He seemed to think that was fair game.

Harry watched as each couple retrieved its car or apparated out. He watched Malfoy talk to Ron and Hermione, calling her darling, making her smile when he did. It felt odd, but it also felt… good. Right.

Finally they parted ways and Malfoy pulled out his wand. He probably intended on apparating somewhere but Harry interrupted him.

-Hey, Malfoy!

That felt odd too. They hadn’t talked since the kiss.

Malfoy turned towards him, an eyebrow raised.

-Catch.

He threw him a tiny ball, half expecting him to let it drop, but Malfoy just caught it elegantly. Of course. Sometimes Harry forgot he had been a seeker, just like him.

Malfoy magnified the objet and it took the size of a full on helmet. His eyebrow rose again and he watched Harry from afar.

-What is this, Potter?

Harry smiled.

-Just get your lazy ass here. You’re coming with me.

—-

What Harry had planned during dinner, turned over and over in his head (how to get Malfoy to go home with him 2.0), that had turned fine. It’s the next step he hadn’t planned. And by next step, he meant the entire fucking journey from Ron and Hermione’s to Grimmauld. He meant a twenty minute ride with Malfoy’s body pressed flush against his.

He tried not to think about it. It was pretty damn difficult when he could feel his arms tight around his waist, his chest warm and steady behind him, his legs on either side of his… Merlin, this was torture.

They arrived at Grimmauld place and Harry pulled the motorcycle into the garden. Malfoy gave him back his helmet and Harry shrieked it again. Malfoy’s face was flustered and his hair all messy on his forehead. He tucked it back behind his ears and Harry wished he’d left it like that. He wished he could run a hand through it and arrange it himself.

-You live here? Malfoy asked with awe.

Ah, yes. Malfoy didn’t know. He nodded and opened the door.

-Come in, he said.

His voice was different. Now that he was alone with Malfoy, he was somehow calmer and more nervous at the same time.

Malfoy stepped inside, hanged his woolen grey coat and entered the foyer. He did not seem impressed like people usually were. After all, he had lived at Malfoy’s Manor all his life (well, not lately, the Manor being confiscated after the war). He was used to luxury. He was used to this.

Harry muttered a fire spell and told Malfoy to make himself comfortable while he was getting them something to drink.

He came back with a good bottle of red wine and two glasses.

He set them on the table, watching Malfoy stare at the fireplace.

-This is impressive, he said. I have never seen one as well-crafted before. When was it made?

Harry poured the wine, sitting on the green velvet sofa in front of the impressive piece of architecture. When he did not answer, Malfoy turned around and raised his infamous brow.

-Well?

-Do I look like someone who knows anything about Art?

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

-Such a waste.

-Shut up and come here.

Malfoy scolded.

-What Potter, you think I am your pet?

-Stop acting like a child and come here.

-Oh, so I am a child now? You may want to re…

-Malfoy! Harry interrupted him.

He shut up and sighed. Slowly, he came around the table and took a seat next to him. Harry handed him a glass and he took it reluctantly.

-It’s not poisoned, Malfoy. Honestly, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it ages ago.

-As if you would ever succeed.

They toasted to silence and the sound of glass echoed through the house. It sounded a hell of a lot like a truce.

They drank in silence, watching each other. Harry got lost in the details of Malfoy’s face. He wanted to ask him what he had been up to, these last three years. He wanted to know how he was. He wanted to know if his life was better now that he’d opened up to people.

Those things were so new to him: wanting to know what Malfoy, of all people, thought and wanted. He didn’t understand how he’d gone from hate to interest in one night. Perhaps, it hadn’t really been done in one night. Perhaps it had always been there, somewhere between the fighting and the scolding.

His eyes registered the little things: the cut on his left temple, the hollow of his cheeks, the exact shade of red of his lips. And now that he’d looked at them, he couldn’t look anywhere else. The memory of their earlier kiss came back and he thought for the hundredth time this evening that he wanted to do it again.

Suddenly, the sight was blocked by Malfoy’s glass of wine. Harry’s eyes met his and he discovered that Malfoy looked different. He looked… wanting.

Malfoy grabbed both their glasses. He set them on the table and turned back towards Harry. Then he let the mask fall and threw himself at him.

-Oh, what the hell…, was the last thing he said before his lips met Harry’s.

This time, the kiss wasn’t rough. It wasn’t teeth. It was plush lips against plush lips, bites and gasping mouths. Tongues rolling with each other and heart beating in chests. Harry moved them so that Malfoy was straddling his lap. The kiss was passionate and heated and Harry was done, done with everything else, everyone in this world that wasn’t Draco Malfoy.

They kissed until they couldn’t breathe. They parted, panting, breaths hot on each other’s skin. Harry watched Malfoy lick his lips and he closed his eyes. He rested his forehead against Malfoy’s in what felt like an incredibly intimate gesture. He let his foggy brain get the best of him and the words were out before he could retain them.

-Thalay sinar phis…

He did not tense. He did not feel Malfoy tense. He straightened and the reassuring pressure of his forehead was gone. He felt his eyes on his face.

-What does that mean? He asked.

Harry finally opened his eyes and he watched Malfoy watch him. This image was so far from the Malfoy he knew. There was no anger, no hatred, no hurt in his eyes. Just attention, beauty, lust, curiosity, perhaps a little caution. Harry raised his hand very slowly, like a human would do with a cat. He gave Malfoy the chance to pull away, to leave. But he didn’t. Instead, he waited, his eyes still on Harry’s face.

Harry reached Malfoy’s hair, and he ever so carefully tangled his fingers in his soft locks. It felt inhuman, like what Harry imagined to be the finest of silks. He stroked gently and a sad smile came to pull on his lips.

-What’s wrong?

There was a hint of worry in Malfoy’s voice. Harry answered with sadness, his voice longing.

-I am not sure you’re quite ready to hear it.

Malfoy’s eyes flashed and he slapped his arm. He got up and grabbed his glass of wine. He paced a few moments before coming to a halt in front of the fireplace. His eyes scanned the fire.

-What are we even doing? He asked, voice rough. We hate each other.

Harry didn’t know what to say, mainly because he didn’t really know what they were doing. He simply did a quick check up on his own feelings. No hate. Definitely not.

-Do we? He simply asked.

Malfoy whirled around. They stared at each other for what felt like centuries before he spoke again.

-You hate me.

Harry was quicker, surer to answer this time.

-No, I don’t.

Malfoy stared at his wine glass and slowly laid it on the mantelpiece. He didn’t turn around. His body was still facing Harry, but his eyes were averted to the side. Harry was afraid to ask the obvious question.

-Do you?

-Do I what?

-Do you hate me?

Malfoy rolled his eyes in exasperation.

-I wish, he said and caught his glass to drink.

Harry felt like a million stars had exploded in his chest and a million explanations given to his memories. Malfoy didn’t hate him. Draco Malfoy didn’t hate Harry Potter.

But wait, now he was confused.

-What’s the problem, then?

Malfoy shook his head and his hand came to pinch his nose with frustration and what looked a lot like self-depreciation.

-How do I know you’re not playing me?

Harry felt his chest tighten. Play him? If there was one person in the world he could never play, it was Malfoy. He opened his mouth to answer the question but Malfoy held out his hand for him to stop.

-Don’t answer that. Just… just start by telling me what you said earlier. In parseltongue.

Incontrollable situations often brought parseltongue out. He didn’t mean to speak it. He just did.

Malfoy still wasn’t looking at him and Harry felt that if they were going to do whatever it was they were doing, he needed to prove to him that he could trust him.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. This felt very much like jumping without anything to catch him. But like Malfoy had said earlier, what the hell?

-Thalay sinar phis, he said. It means “God, how I’ve missed you.”

Grey eyes shot up and he met them head on. No hiding anymore. This was it.

Malfoy was back on him in a flash of light. And now he was kissing Harry without restraint. His hands were in his hair and his lips were on his and his tongue was mapping, exploring. Harry’s hands were mirroring their action on Malfoy’s back. They rummaged until they found the hem of his sweater and tucked it out. Off, off, off.

Their lips parted for the second it took Harry to remove the piece of clothing and were back moving together the next. Harry’s hands continued to explore until finally his hot skin touched cool skin and Oh. Harry was screwed, he was so screwed.

He stopped to kiss and he stopped to be kissed. They didn’t move anymore. Harry opened his eyes and watched Malfoy’s beautiful, beautiful face. He still had his eyes closed and his breath uneven. But he wasn’t moving.

Harry felt bold. So he moved his palm against Malfoy’s skin.

It felt electrifying, like a current moving through his body. He had never felt more alive. And suddenly he needed to say it. Just say the word.

But it didn’t come out as a word. It came out as a prayer.

-Draco…

And the man in his arms let a cry escape his lips, as if he were in physical pain.

Harry didn’t dare to move his hand. He had never seen Draco look so fragile.

Slowly, very, very slowly, he moved his fingertips. He caressed Draco’s back gently along his spine, his ribs, until his hand came to rest on his chest. The flat of his stomach was only interrupted by a single, distraught line. Like a scar. Harry wondered where he could have ever gotten such a thing.

Until he remembered.

Sectumsempra.

He felt sick. Ashamed, disgusted with himself. Look what you did. Look what you did to this man. You destroyed, just like you always do. It’s all you’re ever capable of doing. Destroying.

Harry was lost in his memories, in his head, in the faces he’d never see again, in the bodies lined up against Hogwarts’ great hall floor.

-Harry.

It was a whisper, a hushed prayer, just like the one he’d made moments ago.

He opened his eyes to find only steel grey.

-Why don’t you hate me? Harry asked, his voice a murmur.

-Why don’t you hate me? Draco answered.

And then he whispered.

-I don’t want to live in the past. I want the present, I want this, whatever this is.

Harry watched and he waited and when he finally tried to talk, the shame and disgust were still present in his voice. He knew they would never go away. He cleared his thoughts and focused on the man in front of him, on the steel grey eyes.

-I want this too, he said. I want you.

Draco leaned in and, softly this time, he kissed him. Harry closed his eyes and he started to breathe again. He kissed Draco back as slowly.

-Harry, Draco begged against his lips.

And Harry complied. His hands started moving again, slowly touching, sometimes stopping, forever reviling. He knew now. He knew there would be no one other than Draco Malfoy.

The kiss got heated again and Draco began to play with Harry’s hair, his shirt (the sweater quickly left) and soon his skin, leaving bites and other markings. He seemed to enjoy himself because Harry had to drag him back up so he could taste that sinful mouth of his again.

-You havin’ fun? he managed to ask.

Draco just smirked.

-You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for.

And Harry’s brain stopped again.

-Thrathara sleth tireth.

Draco watched him, partially amused.

-What’s that? He asked.

-You’re so beautiful.

Draco retreated. His eyes grew wide and the grey turned stormy. This was too much. He had said too much.

But the astonishment was gone as quickly as it had come. Draco smirked.

-But of course I am.

Harry just laughed, a genuine relieved laugh and Draco watched him with a smile. And damn if Draco smiling wasn’t the most powerful weapon he’d ever seen.

-You’re not bad yourself, Potter.

Harry’s eyes just gleamed with delight and mischief.

In one smooth motion, he flipped them over, he on top of Draco.

And Merlin, Draco laughed.

Harry watched him, letting the vulnerability show in his eyes. He would never get enough of that sound.

Draco stopped laughing and he grabbed Harry to kiss him with a smile. It was messy and hot and when Harry pulled one of Draco’s thigh to get him closer, his leg folded, trapping Harry closer until their groins brushed. They both gasped. Harry did it again, and again, making Draco pant. He kissed his neck greedily, that gorgeous throat, and Draco asked again in that praying voice.

-Harry….

That was all he needed. He was soon getting Draco ready, making sure he would not hurt him. He worked him open to the point where Draco had to ask again. He kissed him when he finally buried himself in his heat. He kissed him to ease the pain, he kissed him to make him feel what he was feeling, to make him see that he was here, that he wasn’t letting go. I got you, is what it said.

When he began to move, he realized how different this was, how different Draco felt from Harry’s other lovers. This feeling he experienced, it was out of time, absolute, beyond pleasure. This was what Heaven must feel like. All he could think was Draco, Draco, Draco. And when they came together, he saw stars and planets and the universe. Time slipped away and they slipped away with it.

After that, they laid for a while, Harry’s head on Draco’s chest, his panting breath caressing the milky white skin. Harry huffed a breath.

-That was…, he began

-Overdue, Draco completed.

Harry turned his head to smile at him, his chin resting on Draco’s flat stomach. He felt like now he would never stop, like he would always smile.

Of course the universe did not agree.

His phone rang.

Harry shot a look at his pants. He straightened without moving his legs and fumbled to get his mobile. It was a message from none other than Sebastien, again.

Ditch the date. Come now (I bought toyssss)

Harry felt instantly annoyed. He typed a quick response and threw the phone on the table. Draco was watching him closely and Harry pulled himself up to kiss him.

-You hungry? I’m starving.

He got up and put his pants back on.

-How on earth can you still be hungry after that diner?! Draco asked, incredulous

-Well, I didn’t eat much. Someone kept distracting me.

Harry turned to smile at Draco to find him smirking.

-It was a fun diner, he said.

Harry felt inspired so he left his shirt on the floor. He went to the kitchen to find all that was left in the fridge was cake. It would have to do.

He came back to find Draco still sprawled on the sofa, his pants and t-shirt back on. Harry couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He watched him stretch and his brain immediately supplemented feline. Yes, yes indeed.

Draco’s voice caught him by surprise.

-“Ditch the date. Come now. I bought new toys”?!

Oh no.

Harry rushed around the sofa and his eyes met Draco’s. He had his special eyebrow raised.

-Draco, give me back that phone. Please.

Draco did no such thing. In fact, he read Harry’s response out loud.

-“Look Seb, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.”

There was a silence during which they just stared at each other, Harry clearly blushing.

The phone buzzed again.

Draco took what Harry knew to be an exasperated look at it (he’d been at the receiving end of it enough for him to know) and read out loud in a sarcastic voice.

-“That’s not what you said last night. Wink”.

Draco’s eyes turned a deep shade of stormy grey and he buried them deep in Harry’s soul. That finally woke him up. He grabbed the phone and whispered a spell. The piece of electronic turned into wood and he threw it into the fire. He dropped the cake on the table and quickly took a seat on the couch next to Draco. His heart was beating hard with the fear Draco would leave.

-I don’t care about this guy. He’s just… I mean, we just… see each other for sex. That’s all. On both parts. We’re not… I’m not…

Draco interrupted his pathetic monologue with a dark voice.

-You told him I was your date.

Harry leaned back against the sofa and pushed a hand through his hair.

-Yeah.

-And you just threw your phone into the fire.

-Yeah.

-Why? Draco asked.

Harry closed his eyes. He considered: he could tell him the truth. He might not run away. He might not freak out. He might just understand.

Or not. He might do all of those things. There was just no way to know with him.

Oh well…

-Do you remember when Voldemort said I was dead? He finally asked. When Hagrid carried me back?

He felt Draco stir next to him.

-Yes. But Potter, what has this got to do with…?

-Have you never wondered how he could have mistaken me for dead?

There was a pause.

-Of course. I never understood how you tricked him.

Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He fixed the green emeralds on steel grey and, for the first time, he told the truth.

-That is because I didn’t.

Draco frowned in confusion. Harry simply went on.

-I died that day. Voldemort killed me.

There was absolute silence in the room. Draco was watching him with solemn eyes. Harry had to look away. Draco had probably always known something had happened that day. He was smart, after all. Very smart.

-Why are you telling me this?

Harry fixed his eyes on the fire.

-Because I want you to understand. A part of me died that day. It had to be done. I knew that. But still, you have no idea how it feels to…

He closed his eyes briefly.

-Since then, I’ve felt… empty. Absent. But tonight… tonight I felt alive for the first time in three years.

The rest was self-explanatory. That is why I don’t care about Sebastien. That is why I want you to stay.

Harry suddenly felt Draco shift closer. Fingertips landed on his scar and traded carefully, caressing the skin to his scalp where fingers began to course through his hair. Harry turned his head to watch Draco watch him. He didn’t say anything but didn’t need to. Draco’s fingers spoke for him. I got you, is what they said.

They stayed like that for a while, Harry leaning in Draco’s touch, Draco trading fingers through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

-I know what you did for me. During the trial.

Harry lowered his eyes and he caught the sight of the dark mark. It did not move anymore. Without its master it became a simple tattoo. Harry hadn’t been paying attention to this detail. Now that he was, he saw the tattoos Draco had added to make it fade in the background: words on skull and smoke. Words drowning in words. Black drowning in words.

-You speak it differently, you know?

Harry carefully ran a finger over the tattoo, the tip tracing the many words. Draco pulled on an indifferent front but Harry felt him tense up. He let his finger trail from the elbow to the wrist, his touch light and soothing. Draco relaxed progressively.

-What do you mean? Harry asked.

-Parseltongue. You speak it differently than he did.

Of course. Voldemort spoke parseltongue, which was why he himself did. He had never really thought about using it until now.

-Does it bother you? he asked.

He had not thought about how uncomfortable it must have made Draco feel.

-I see you thinking, Potter. Don’t. It doesn’t bother me. Like I said, you speak it differently. He relented in it, ordered and threatened. You somehow use it with softness and respect. As if you were actually borrowing a language that was not your own.

Harry let his hand come up to rest on Draco’s cheek.

-Southess outh say sayn.

Draco stopped his fingers in the nape of Harry’s neck.

-What does that mean?

-It means stay with me.

Draco smiled and he leaned in to kiss him. His lips were a drug and Harry thought he might never get enough.

-Yes, Harry. I think I will.

***

Hermione came out of the kitchen with the freshly opened bottle of wine. Harry was late again, so he’d brought bribery, and she’d accepted it. Again.

Only this time he wasn’t alone, so it had taken two bottles to soothe her wrath.

Draco was leaning in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Harry on the couch. He was talking to one of Hermione’s friends from the Ministry of Magic. The man was clearly trying to woo Harry who was, as usual, completely oblivious to his attempts. Draco watched them from the side, his eyes narrowed and his arms folded. He would never admit it, but Draco was incredibly jealous of literally anything when it came to Harry.

-Darling, did you set up this meeting to have this Richard steal my man? He asked.

-Why? Do you feel threatened?

He rolled his eyes.

-Please.

Hermione smirked. She watched as Richard excused himself, probably sensing Draco’s piercing eyes on his back. Harry nodded. He didn’t show any particular interest other than a friendly one in their conversation, but any interest at all meant danger to Draco. As soon as Richard exited the room, Draco strolled in. Harry watched him from the couch, drinking his wine. Draco dropped in front of him and captured his lips between his. Hermione got uncomfortable watching them. They were always so… intense. Thankfully, the kiss ended moments later.

-What was that about? Harry asked.

Draco’s eyes searched Harry’s face.

-I am not a fan of people wooing my love.

Harry flashed him that 3 000 watt smile of his.

-Are you saying you’re marking your territory?

Draco took the glass from Harry.

-Maybe.

-Maybe? Harry asked.

He leaned back against the couch.

Draco’s eyes quickly took in every detail.

-Definitely.

There was a mischievous smile on Harry’s lips, one that was reserved to Draco and Draco only.

-I’d say you’ve marked it enough already.

He tipped his neck, just inches, and a colorful line of love bites appeared. Draco practically spit his wine and Harry turned his head back again. Then he winked.

By the time Draco gripped Harry’s shirt to crash his wine stained lips against his, Hermione was already out of the living room and back in the kitchen to see Ron. Had she stayed a little longer she would have been able to catch the hushed murmur whispered against each other’s lips. Sala Yas Se He, it said.

I love you.

Want to see more? Check the “dralentine’s day” tag or head over to dralentines-day.tumblr.com!

Happy Dralentine’s Day!

#drarry #dralentine's day #drarry squad #dralentine's gifts #dralentine's day gifts

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asagaoluke · 8 years ago

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ALSO 28 with levian I'm sorry

things you said prompts / things you said but not out loud. this one is slightly different because i got an idea and ran with it I apologise

1. ian likes to think he’s smart.

he does well in class, gets the one over on most of his friends when they argue, and he’s been told that his mind is sharp as a double edged sword, but he cannot for the life of him understand sign language. it’s an annoyance, one that he wouldn’t even know about had it not been for lev, and so ian deems it his fault and sets out to ask him to correct this wrong.

the lunch when ian decides to ask for this tutoring is spaghetti. with a gleam in his eye that’s lesser seen and a spoon in his hand, he sets his tray down next to levi, who winces. ian notices, and smiles.

“i wanted to ask you something,” he says, and levi reacts by scrunching up his face, glasses slightly askew.

“if it’s about my allergies, i have a list.”this makes him laugh, a good and hearty one that seems to take levi by surprise long enough to stop him glancing at the spoon in ian’s hand.

“no, i wanted you to teach me sign language.”

“oh, golly,” levi says, his hands meeting and twisting over his plastic tray. he makes eye contact with a brunette girl across the room – eli, whom ian waves to – and she abruptly turns on her heel, surprising alex and asa and abandoning her friend in his time of need.

“i’m kind of busy, but i could maybe fit you in? i do a bunch of extra curriculars.”

ian nods, his cutlery making soft clinks on his plate as it cuts through his pasta. “sure. i don’t mind whenever. i just want to learn.”

he’s too busy wrestling with his food to notice that levi has been doing a tiny version of one phrase over and over with his twitching hands: “heart-flutter heart-flutter heart-flutter.”

2. the first lesson is, in layman’s terms, an ordeal. ian, however talented at other subjects he is, can’t seem to get the basic hand shapes down, and when he does, he gets them in the wrong order. there’s a look of pain on levi’s face so real ian isn’t sure if he should be ashamed or amused -- that is, until lev reaches forward to take his wrists, a little too sincerely to be considered gentle.

it’s the only way ian ever wants to be touched again.

his shoulders fall limp as soon as it happens, and levi’s mouth is moving, but no sound is reaching ian’s ears -- he simply blinks, dumbfounded at how quickly he has been won over. levi’s hands sculpt his into something wonderful ( a simple hello, now that he thinks about it ) and ian nods, a small and close-lipped smile coming over his face. “right, i - i get it now.”

“finally,” levi sighs, puffing his hair from his eyes, and ian takes that as his cue to laugh, throw his head back and really go for it. levi is taken aback for a few seconds, so severely that his arm jerks away and he hits his elbow on the side of the desk.

the laugh says it all, really; this is open, and i am happy here.

when ian re-enters his room that night, luke’s teasing voice doesn’t give him a second’s peace, but he barely notices. his fingers flutter over and over again, a dedication to muscle memory. hello, hello, hello.

#transboyleaf #IM CRYIN?????#queuetown #what a good queue tag #levian #what a good ship tag

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claredalton · 5 years ago

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Crumpets, and leftovers, and more about failure

If you are nurturing a starter, then every time you feed it, to sustain it, you are directed to discard some of it - because you don’t want to ‘feed’ more than you are going to use. When you use your starter to make a levain, and then bake a bread, you have leftovers - of both starter and levian. If, like me, you have trouble throwing good things away, then you will go looking for ways to use those discards, and leftovers.

Enter the British crumpet. Flat and well browned on the bottom, intriguingly pockmarked and holey on the top, chewy in the middle. When toasted, positioned to receive butter that will melt through those holes, and then a slathering of Marmite, if you are a true wartime British baby, or jam or marmalade if not.

As one of those true wartime babies, who still has Marmite in the cupboard, making crumpets felt like the perfect solution to the leftover problem, when I found a recipe for them on King Arthur’s website.

BUT, the recipe was deceptive in one important respect. Even after I ordered the requisite muffin rings online, I couldn’t get the crumpets to ‘set’ on top before the bottoms burnt beyond redemption, leaving the middles just a bit too chewy. And in that partly overdone and partly underdone state, they also weren’t detaching properly from their rings. Was the pan too hot? Did I need more oil?

It was tempting to give up. But the internet is a wonderful thing. When I googled ‘why do my crumpets burn on the bottom?’ I found a fabulous entry by Olivia Potts, aka ‘The Vintage Chef,’ on the UK’s Spectator/Life site. She is not using left over starter for her crumpets, so her recipe is different, but, like me, she struggled to avoid burning their bottoms. And her accidental solution was to use less mixture per crumpet. Eureka! Less time needed to cook the babies through, and therefore less time for the bottoms to burn.

I haven’t actually put this insight to the test, but I’m confident enough to share it, and the recipe, here.

One other note: it is the baking soda in the recipe that eventually gives the crumpets their distinctive holes on top. It acts twice: once when added to the other ingredients in the batter, and again when exposed to the heat. You can let the batter rest up to fifteen minutes, and the soda will still activate as the crumpets cook.

Ingredients:

1 cup sourdough starter, unfed/discard

1 teaspoon sugar

1/4 to 1/2 tsp salt

2/3 tsp baking soda (or a little more if your starter is particularly sour)

Directions:

Place your starter in a medium-sized bowl. Stir in the sugar and salt, then the baking soda. the batter will rise up and bubble a bit, becoming almost billowy.

Heat a griddle or non-stick pan over medium-low heat. Grease the surface with oil on a paper towel, and then melt a pat of butter on top of the oil

Grease four muffin rings (approx. 4 inches across) and place them on the griddle or pan. Let them heat through. Pour about 1/8 of a cup of the mixture into each ring. Cook until the tops are set and full of small holes. Flip the crumpets over, check that the bottoms are a dark brown but not burnt, remove the rings (they should (!) come off easily), and continue to cook until the tops are golden. Repeat with the remaining mixture - cleaning the rings and regreasing them as needed.

Enjoy the crumpets warm, spread with butter and your choice of Marmite or jam! Or toast to brown and crisp before serving. They can be stored at room temperature for several days, and then should definitely be toasted before enjoying.

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yeskraim · 5 years ago

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China coronavirus outbreak: All the latest updates

China reported 508 new cases on Tuesday in an outbreak of the coronavirus that has spread to other parts of Asia, the Middle East and Europe.

Another 71 deaths were reported in mainland China, 68 of them in the city of Wuhan, where the epidemic has been concentrated.

The updates bring mainland China’s totals to 77,658 cases and 2,663 deaths.

Also on Tuesday, South Korea reported 60 more cases of the new virus, bringing its total to 893. Cases there now outnumber Japan, where many cases were detected among passengers and crew on a cruise ship. On Tuesday, Japan reported that a fourth passenger from the Diamond Princess ship died.

WHO raises alarm as virus spreads in parts of Middle East, Europe

South Korea raises alert level to highest over virus

Iraq extends ban on Iran arrivals amid coronavirus fears

Meanwhile, Washington and Seoul are considering scaling back command post training due to heightened concerns about the coronavirus, which has reportedly infected at least 13 in the South Korean military.

More than 28,000 US soldiers are stationed in South Korea as a deterrent against potential threats from North Korea.

Here are the latest updates:

Tuesday, February 25

Iran confirms two more dead

Two more Iranians infected with the coronavirus have died in Iran, local media website Eghtesaonline has reported, citing the the head of the Medical Science University of Saveh, raising the death toll in the Islamic Republic to 14.

“Tests showed they had the new coronavirus,” the official said, according to Eghtesaonline. Iran’s

China aviation regulator says flights outside of Hubei to resume gradually

Flights in China halted in the wake of the coronavirus outbreak will resume gradually as factories and businesses reopen but those to Hubei province, the virus’s epicentre, will remain suspended, the country’s aviation regulator has said.

The Civil Aviation Administration of China (CAAC) will also urge other global aviation regulators to resume international flights to China to make sure the country is connected to the outside world, CAAC said in a statement, quoting comments by its director Feng Zhenglin on Monday.

Travelers wear face masks as they walk outside of the Beijing Railway Station in Beijing. [File: Mark Schiefelbein/The Associated Press]

‘Mission: Impossible VII’ halts Italy filming over virus: report

Production on the latest film in the “Mission: Impossible” series starring Tom Cruise has been stopped in Italy following the outbreak of coronavirus cases, according to US media.

According to entertainment specialist The Wrap, the seventh instalment of the Paramount Pictures franchise was scheduled to shoot in Venice for three weeks. A paramount spokesperson said the decision was made “out of an abundance of caution”.

Japan urges telecommuting, staggered shifts

The government of Japan has urged companies to recommend telecommuting and staggered shifts for workers in a bid to curb the spread of the new coronavirus.

The plan, approved at a cabinet meeting on Tuesday, also urged people with symptoms of cold or fever to stay at home and asked event organisers to carefully consider whether to proceed with their plans.

Japan postpones Cup games due to coronavirus concerns

Japan’s J-League says it has postponed seven Levian Cup matches scheduled for Wednesday due to concerns about the coronavirus outbreak and is considering postponing all domestic soccer games through the first half of March.

The J-League said the decision to postpone Wednesday’s matches was part of efforts to contain the spread of the virus.

“The J-League will make maximum efforts to prevent infection and prevent its spread,” it said in a statement.

Thailand reports two new virus cases, bringing total to 37

Thailand confirmed two new cases of the coronavirus, a senior health official said, bringing the total infections in the country to 37.

Both of the new cases are Thai nationals, Sukhum Kanchanapimai, the health ministry’s permanent secretary told a news conference on Tuesday.

One patient is a female, 31, and has a family member with a history of traveling from China, Sukhum said adding that officials are investigating the rest of the family.

“The second, is a 29, male driver for Chinese tourists,” he added. A total of 22 patients have been discharged and 15 are still being treated.

All 16 of Vietnam’s coronavirus sufferers cured

All 16 people in Vietnam infected with a new coronavirus have been cured, the health ministry said on Tuesday, adding that no new cases have been recorded since February 13.

The last known patient, a 50-year-old man infected by his daughter who returned from China’s central city of Wuhan, where the virus first emerged, has recovered and is in good condition, the ministry said in a statement.

It was not immediately clear when the last patient would be discharged from hospital.

The rest, including a three-month-old baby, are improving, the ministry added.

Vietnam’s first report of the virus was about two Chinese citizens infected on January 23.

Members of anti-coronavirus team spray chemical onto vehicles on a road in Thai Nguyen province earlier this month [File: Kham/Reuters]

Bahrain temporarily stops Dubai, Sharjah flights over virus

The tiny island nation of Bahrain suspended flights on Tuesday to the world’s busiest airport for international travel in Dubai over fears about the spread of the new virus.

The move by Bahrain, a small island off the coast of Saudi Arabia, suggested its monarchy had doubts about screenings of incoming passengers in Dubai and nearby Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates. It said the ban was immediate and would last at least 48 hours.

Bahrain counted its first case of coronavirus on Monday in a school bus driver who transited Dubai while coming from Iran. Later, it confirmed a second case, also a traveler from Iran via Dubai.

Philippines flying back Diamond Princess crew members

The Philippine government has started repatriating hundreds of Filipinos, who are working aboard the Diamond Princess cruise ship, docked in Japan.

Manila has dispatched two chartered Philippine Airlines flights to pick up the crew members, who have been stranded in a port in Yokohama, after hundreds of people were infected with coronavirus aboard the vessel.

Those Filipinos who have been infected, will not be among those who will be flown back, but will instead stay in Japan for treatment.

LOOK: At the port of Yokohama, PH embassy and health officials prepare for the disembarkation of the ship’s roughly 400 Filipino crew members who will be flown to the Clark Airport in Pampanga. They will then be quarantined for 14 days. Photo from the DFA. @rapplerdotcom pic.twitter.com/RTvaaWrBLQ

— JC Gotinga (@JCGotinga) February 25, 2020

Fourth passenger from cruise ship dies in Japan – NHK

A fourth passenger from the cruise ship Diamond Princess moored in Japan has died from the coronavirus, NHK public television said on Tuesday. The passenger was in their 80s, NHK said.

Japan has come under fire for its handling of the situation on the cruise ship, which is operated by Carnival Corp and where hundreds became infected.

The number of patients is rising around Japan, with the government set to announce a set of measures to combat it later on Tuesday.

S Korea reports 60 new coronavirus cases, raising total to 893

South Korea reported 60 new cases of the coronavirus, increasing the total number of infected patients in the country to 893, the Korea Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (KCDC) said on Tuesday.

Of the new cases, 16 were in the southeastern city of Daegu, where a church that was at the centre of the outbreak is located, and 33 from North Gyeongsang province, KCDC said.

Workers spray disinfectant as part of preventive measures against the spread of the coronavirus, at the National Assembly in Seoul on Monday [Yonhap/AFP]

US, South Korea weigh scaling back training over coronavirus concerns

The US and South Korean military are considering scaling back command post training due to heightened concerns about the coronavirus, the defence ministers of both countries have announced.

“I’m sure that we will remain fully ready to deal with any threats that we will face together,” Mark Esper, the US defence secretary, told a news conference, standing alongside his South Korean counterpart at the Pentagon.

Trump asks for $2.5bn to fight virus

United States President Donald Trump’s administration is asking Congress for $2.5bn to fight the fast-spreading coronavirus, the White House said on Monday.

Of the $2.5bn request, $1.5bn represents new funding. The rest would come from funds already budgeted by Congress, such as unused money to fight the Ebola virus. The administration requires congressional approval to redirect that money. Read more here.

Trump says coronavirus under control in the US

US President Donald Trump said on Tuesday that the coronavirus was under control in the United States, and added that he thought the stock market, which tumbled on Monday on worries about the fast-spreading disease, was “starting to look very good to me”.

“The Coronavirus is very much under control in the USA,” Trump, who is visiting India, said on Twitter.

“We are in contact with everyone and all relevant countries. CDC & World Health have been working hard and very smart. Stock Market starting to look very good to me!” he said.

Kuwait suspends flights to and from Iraq: state news agency

Kuwait‘s civil aviation authority has suspended all its flights to and from Iraq over fears about the coronavirus, state news agency KUNA reported.

The statement was issued under the Kuwaiti health ministry’s instructions.

Impact on economy could be ‘very strong’: Italy’s PM Conte

Italian Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte said the impact of the coronavirus outbreak on the economy could be “very strong”.

“The economic impact could be very strong. At this moment we can calculate that there will be a negative economic impact, we are not yet in a position to forecast what will happen,” he told reporters.

Read updates from Monday, February 24 here.

The post China coronavirus outbreak: All the latest updates appeared first on Gadgets To Make Life Easier.

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alamante · 7 years ago

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This story includes graphic details of alleged sexual violence against minors.

A youth care worker for Southwest Key has been charged with 11 sex offenses after authorities accused him of molesting at least eight unaccompanied immigrant boys over nearly a year at one of the company’s shelters in Mesa, Arizona, federal court records show.

The allegations against Levian D. Pacheco, who is HIV-positive, include that he performed oral sex on two of the teenagers and tried to force one of them to penetrate him anally. The other six teens — all between 15 and 17 — said Pacheco had groped them through their clothing. All of the incidents are alleged to have taken place between August 2016 and July 2017, according to a court filing last week that laid out the government’s case.

The case, initially investigated by local police, is now proceeding through U.S. District Court in Phoenix. Pacheco had worked at Southwest Key’s Casa Kokopelli shelter, one of eight the company runs in Arizona, since May 2016.

Casa Kokopelli was cited by the Arizona Department of Health Services in 2017 for failing to complete background checks, including fingerprinting, to ensure that employees hadn’t previously committed sex offenses and other crimes, records show. Pacheco worked for nearly four months without a complete background check, according to documents and an agency official. Those records did not show any previous arrests or convictions for sex offenses, they said.

Pacheco, 25, was indicted in August 2017 after an investigation by local law enforcement and the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services inspector general’s office. The current charges include eight counts of abusive sexual contact with a ward and three counts of sexual acts with a ward. Pacheco, who is in U.S. Marshals’ custody, could not be reached for comment, but he denied the charges in court documents. His federal public defender, Benjamin Good, said, “We are looking forward to defending Mr. Pacheco in court.”

Trump administration officials have repeatedly asserted that the shelters are safe, even fun, places for kids. But there has been increasingly intense scrutiny of the federally funded, privately run shelters after the administration separated some 3,000 children from their parents at the border and sent them to shelters and foster homes across the country. Last week, ProPublica reported that police nationwide have responded to hundreds of calls reporting possible sex crimes at shelters that serve immigrant children. One of those calls resulted in the conviction of a Tucson shelter worker for molestation.

Now further documents have emerged describing alleged incidents in Arizona involving Southwest Key, the largest operator of immigrant youth shelters nationwide.

ProPublica only discovered Pacheco’s case while trying to find additional information about a vague reference to a molestation case in Arizona inspection records. Federal officials had known about the case when answering questions from ProPublica last week and when describing the conditions of the shelters before Congress, but did not mention it.

In addition to Pacheco, two other cases involving abuse at other Southwest Key shelters have recently surfaced.

On Tuesday, an employee at a Southwest Key facility in Phoenix, Fernando Magaz Negrete, was arrested on allegations that he sexually abused a 14-year-old girl by kissing her and rubbing her breast and crotch, according to Phoenix news outlets. And The Nation reported Friday that a 6-year-old girl who had been separated from her mother was allegedly fondled by a boy at another Southwest Key facility in Glendale, Arizona in June.

At other Southwest Key facilities, police reports and call logs from the last five years detail inappropriate relationships with staff, dozens of runaways, sexual contact among kids at the shelters and other allegations of molestation by employees. In one case, ProPublica found, a 46-year-old youth care worker in Tucson was convicted of groping a 15-year-old boy who had just arrived in the United States five days earlier.

In an email, HHS spokesman Kenneth Wolfe said the agency has issued a stop placement order and removed all unaccompanied minors from the Casa Kokopelli shelter. He declined to say when the stop placement order was issued.

“These are vulnerable children in difficult circumstances, and the Office of Refugee Resettlement at HHS’ Administration for Children and Families treats our responsibility for each child with the utmost care,” he said. “Any allegation of abuse or neglect is taken seriously.”

In response to questions from ProPublica, Jeff Eller, a spokesman for Southwest Key, wrote in an email that he was unable to comment on specific cases. When asked how Pacheco’s alleged actions could have escaped detection for 11 months, Eller didn’t answer the question, but said: “Any employee accused of abuse is immediately suspended and law enforcement called. This is what we did in this case.” Eller said the allegations were also reported to the federal Office of Refugee Resettlement, which oversees the shelter system, and the appropriate state agency.

In response to a question about how the company could assure the public that children are safe in its facilities, Eller wrote: “We find the premise of your question dishonorable.”

“We report these cases to law enforcement and state agencies when they happen,” he said. “We educate every child in our care upon arrival to the facility of their right to be free from abuse or neglect in this program and this country. This message is repeated to the children throughout the duration of their stay at our shelters.”

In the past five years, the Texas-based nonprofit has received more than $1.3 billion in federal funds for the shelters and other services—including more than $500 million so far this year.

This week, following numerous reports of problems at the federally funded facilities, Sen. Charles Grassley, R-Iowa, and Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-California, requested that the inspector general for the U.S. Health and Human Services department investigate the allegations of sexual and physical abuse at the shelters.

“These allegations demonstrate a long-term pattern of abuse warranting a thorough investigation into the claims, including the process and procedure by which any guards or contracted staff are hired, trained, and vetted,” the senators wrote in a letter to the inspector general.

HHS said Thursday that shelter operators reported 264 allegations of sexual abuse to the FBI last year. While those can include anything from “touching of the buttocks” to sexual assault, the agency said, 53 allegations involved an adult. The agency did not say how many of those allegations were founded or how many constituted more serious assaults.

Federal court records show that officials at the Southwest Key shelter in Mesa were unaware that Pacheco was abusing boys for months — and that it wasn’t until one of the boys spoke up last summer that the extent of the abuse allegations against Pacheco was uncovered.

Shelter officials first learned that Pacheco may have abused a boy at the facility when a teen identified in court records as “John Doe 1” told a teacher that a staff member had entered his room in the early morning hours of July 24, 2017 and touched his body, including his penis, over his clothing. The teen then told his roommate about the incident and that boy, known as “John Doe 2,” said the same staffer had fondled him in a similar way.

The second teen initially denied the incident when he was approached by staff members. Several hours later he told staffers that Pacheco had come into his room early one morning, tickled him and touched his “private parts.”

Pacheco was then removed from the facility and local law enforcement launched an investigation, records show.

The next day, July 25, a third teen told a shelter counselor that he had heard about Pacheco’s dismissal for inappropriately touching other boys. The teen told the counselor that Pacheco had also fondled him and that he was aware of three other boys Pacheco had molested. That child would later tell a “forensic interviewer” that Pacheco had groped him twice.

Local law enforcement and shelter staff tracked down those three teens and two others, who all said that Pacheco had molested them.

The fourth teen in the court records reported that Pacheco had touched him over his pajama pants sometime in June or July of 2017.

A fifth boy, who had been moved from Casa Kokopelli to another facility in Arizona, said he was brushing his teeth, and when he opened the bathroom door, Pacheco was standing there holding toilet paper. The boy said Pacheco then touched his penis over his clothing, the records show.

A sixth teen reported that Pacheco opened the shower door while he was bathing and stared at him but did not touch him. The boy later told social workers that on another occasion, he was changing his clothes after a soccer game when Pacheco walked into his room and said “My love, I have arrived,” according to court records. Pacheco proceeded to grab the boy’s penis, the teen said. Pacheco then laughed and told the child he “had it big,” the records show.

The seventh teen, “John Doe 7,” is the same victim whose allegations were briefly referenced in ProPublica’s story last week. The boy had been at the Mesa facility and was transferred to Tucson, where he revealed the molestation allegations to officials. The teen said he had been recovering from surgery in early June of 2017 and was groggy from pain medication when he awoke to find Pacheco in this room. Pacheco told the boy that he had a “big one.” The teen said he could tell that Pacheco had “ejaculated on himself,” according to court records.

On another occasion, the teen told officials, he was playing video games when Pacheco entered the room and told the boy to take out his penis. The boy refused and Pacheco grabbed the teen’s penis through his pants, according to court records. During a third incident, the teen said Pacheco pushed him down on a bed, pulled down his pants and underwear and began to shake his penis. The boy said he attempted to push Pacheco away, but was unable to because of his injury and surgery. Pacheco put the boy’s penis in his mouth, the court records state.

The eighth boy alleged that Pacheco came into his room and woke him by making noise with the blinds. Pacheco then told the boy he was going to “suck his,” according to court records. The boy said Pacheco took down his pants and put his mouth on the teen’s penis three times. The boy describes a separate incident in which Pacheco entered his room around midnight, took off his own pants and underwear and told the boy he wanted the teen to put his penis in Pacheco’s “butt,” records state.

Pacheco then attempted to force the boy’s penis into his anus, but the boy pushed him away and threatened to report him, according to the records.

Pacheco disclosed he was HIV positive when he was arrested, according to court records. Officials with the Southwest Center for HIV/AIDS educated the teenage boys about HIV and how it is transmitted and a “couple” of the eight children sought testing, records state. It’s unclear what the results were.

Five of the eight teenagers that Pacheco is accused of molesting either denied or didn’t disclose the allegation when first approached by interviewers and staff members.

Nayeli Chavez-Dueñas, a clinical psychologist who helped develop shelter guidelines on behalf of the National Latina/o Psychological Association, said she wasn’t surprised that alleged abuse went on for so long “because a lot of the children are terrified.” Many of the children have experienced sexual and physical violence, she said, and in the shelters, they face a lot of uncertainty.

“So when you have adults that are taking care of these children that are so vulnerable,” Chavez-Dueñas said, “they know that the children are going to be so afraid for their safety that they are not likely to report.”

Pacheco’s trial is scheduled to begin on August 28.

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