#although on the other hand. no way would we have ever gotten zero year or twojar

[jedidryad]

This isn’t so much a WIP as a work abandoned. When I was trying to figure out how to write the Mara memoir, I came up with a premise where she was forced to recount her and Luke’s love story to Vader’s ghost in the cave on Dagobah. I clearly abandoned this premise, but there are parts of it that might be fun  to read so here’s some of it:

I moved hesitantly forward in the dark [of the cave]. Without Luke’s comforting presence in the corner of my mind, I felt very lonely and on edge. It was amazing how quickly I’d gotten used to him being there, how he calmed me.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw there was a small source of light ahead, like a dim window in the cave wall. I moved towards it and realized there was a cloaked figure standing in front of that window.  The Emperor! My training kicked in and I scanned around me for something to use as a weapon, but, of course there was nothing, and I had left my stash with Luke. Within a few tentative steps, I determined the figure was much too tall to be Palpatine. 

Then the being turned towards me and removed the hood to reveal a human man, older but not wizened, bearded, with wistful blue eyes and scars criss crossing what could be seen of his pale face. In the dim light, the cloak was revealed to be jedi robes, sleeves flowing long enough that I could not see his hands.

I stood there in silence, unsure what to think. The man seemed similarly taken aback.

“Well, if the Force had told me, all those years ago, that I would be here meeting up with you. I would not have believed it, Mara Jade.”

“Mara Jade Skywalker,” I corrected tartly, but automatically, trying to place the voice. It was almost familiar to me.

The jedi ghost stared a moment and then promptly began to chuckle to himself at length. Apparently, he found my married name hilarious.

I was at a loss. This was not what I had expected when I nervously walked in here.

“Well you seem to know who I am.” I said, feeling a little aggravated, “Who exactly are you?”

He grinned, a maddeningly familiar expression  that I couldn’t place, and shook his head.

“Haven’t figured it out yet?”

“No,” I drew on the arrogance of my youth, “ and I dislike guessing games.”

Obnoxiously, he found this even more amusing. I felt anger bubbling up inside before I checked myself. There was nothing to be gained by getting angry at this ghost.

I let out a long slow breath and tried to let my frustration and fear float away with it.

“Okay,” I said, changing tactics, “Why have you called me here? Whoever you are.”

He stopped laughing and looked thoughtful.

“I didn’t call you here. We were both called by the Force,  although I expect your method of travel was a bit more arduous.”

“Because you’re dead,” I said by way of confirmation and he nodded again. I continued to search my memory files for how this person and I might have known each other. Had I really seen that many people die that I couldn’t even figure this out?

There was a nervous pause.

“Is Luke with you on planet?”

The tender way he said Luke’s name made my jaw drop, and my eyes zeroed in on his.

 I knew who this was. The wistful blue eyes, the web of scars, the oddly almost familiar voice, and the poodoo eating smile I’d seen on my husband’s face a thousand times since we’d met.

“Vader” It came out on a breath.

A shadow passed across his features and he nodded.

“Darth Vader.” I repeated, staring into the face I had only ever seen sealed behind a mask. 

He nodded quietly again.

I stared too long. I couldn’t help it. I could suddenly see both my husband and my sister in law in that face but couldn’t imagine how they were related.

I said the first thing that came to my stunned mind.

“Luke never mentioned you had a beard.”

“It’s complicated” was all he said in response.

I found that oddly unsatisfying as responses go, but this whole situation was ludicrous. 

Here I was in a cave, supposedly facing some great Force test, and I bump into the ghost of my father-in-law, who had also been my...rival? Colleague?

“Well, Shavit.” I looked at him again and shook my head before lifting my face to the endless nothing above us.

“What the Kriff, Force,” I cried in annoyance, “What is your plan here?”

Vader spoke up, “I have been sent here to witness the justifications of a married jedi.”

“What?”

“The Jedi order forbade bonds between Jedi, and for some very good reasons. I’ve been called to hear you explain why you think your relationship is worthy of an exception to the rule.”

I know my expression became skeptical and dangerous, but Vader held up well. He never had been intimidated by me, I guess. Why would he start now?

“I have to convince you that Luke and I deserve to be married?”

He nodded.

“Convince you?!”

He shrugged, “Well, the Force actually, but convincing me is a start.”

I let out a solid stream of invective in several languages. I let him know what I thought of the idea of the Force sending an ex Sith Lord to judge my fitness for love and marriage.

 Truth be told, I was a little impressed by my creativity, especially when I realized his eyes had widened and there were signs of colour on his cheeks.

Apparently I knew words that could make a Sith Lord blush.

“I see my son chose a cultured lady of the court.”

“Et Chu Ta,” I blustered, “you know who I am.”

“On the contrary,” he responded, “I know who you were. I very much doubt either one of us is much as we were or we would not be standing here.”

“But why the kriff am I standing here? You want to talk to someone about my marriage, why didn’t they call your son? He would love to sit and chat over a cup of hot chocolate with you. He’s the one who missed out on knowing his father. I spent most of my life with you breathing down my neck - mechanically.”

“And I have nothing to prove to you.”

Vader straightened.

“Well, apparently you have something to prove to the Force.”

I let him and anyone else who might be listening know what I thought of that idea.

“Chuba, where did you learn some of those expressions?”

“I spent a good ten years in the company of smugglers after Palpatine died. What were you doing?”

“Atoning.”

His tone was quiet and sober, but heavy with unspoken experiences, none of which I wanted to know about.

I sighed.

“Yeah, me too.” I pursed my lips and looked at him sharply, “and it appears I’m not done yet.”

“You have nowhere near as far to go as I do, Mara.”

“Don’t be too sure,” I muttered.

I squared my shoulders.

“So what do I have to do?”

He nodded.

“You need to tell me how you wound up married to my son.”

I smirked bitterly. No way that was all there was to it.

“Well that’s simple.”, I began, crisply, “As he was dying, our dear old Emperor, convinced me that you and Luke murdered him together and commanded that I kill Luke. The command literally haunted me and I spent five years fantasizing about how I would dispose of him. Then I met him…”

“And he changed your mind?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Really?, Twenty-two years as second in command to the most evil man the galaxy has seen since Exar Kun and you think just meeting Luke could undo his brainwashing like that?”

I snapped my fingers by way of illustration.

“No, I wanted to kill him even more then. He was calm, reasonable, and so utterly confident I wouldn’t do it. He was obnoxious.  It was practically a dare.”

“Jade, this isn’t doing much to convince me you love him.”

“Then you don’t know a whole lot about love.” 

[atombombbaby]

Starfield Rant

My ONE big splurge of the year (I allow myself one splurge a year because of all our debt we're trying to pay off)--bought before I got so sick and realized we were going to have to return to the US--and it turns out to be the most poorly-written game I have ever played.

I could have gotten Cyberpunk 2077, Red Dead Redemption, The Last of Us, Horizon Zero Dawn, Persona 5, or a couple or three of those put together for what it cost to pre-order Starfield.

Starfield has so much going for it in so many ways, and I was so excited, because I'd been waiting for YEARS for it to release. And I do enjoy certain aspects of it, but oh, my Sagan the writing is SO BAD! It'll probably be the last Bethesda game I purchase--at least until they get a competent head writer.

Look, I'm pretty generous with hand-waving stuff away, but how do you make a space game without even knowing the difference between a planetary system and a galaxy? How do you write ANYTHING without any attention at all to verisimilitude? How can you not know the difference between a transcript and a recording? How do you write a world with equipment that can do detailed genetic and cellular tissue analysis in seconds, but not have a single biologist figure out that the most ubiquitous in-game pest and the most-feared hostile creature are the same species?

How do you accidentally make a supposedly sympathetic character into a monster who abandons their crew on a hostile world for twenty years (resulting in the deaths of all crash survivors and the orphaning of the daughter of two survivors), when said character knows exactly how to find them--because the character "just can't face their past?" (She indicates she knew there might be survivors, but even if she thought they all died, you always MAKE SURE. The UC Navy is complicit here, as well.)

It goes beyond that, too. Sarah's entire quest is written in a way that makes her seem like a villain. First, if the real issue was "facing her past," all she had to do was tell someone, "Hey, the location of the other shuttle is on the computer in the shuttle I crashed in. Go rescue them or recover their remains." But she didn't tell anyone.

Then also notice that Sona talks about how excited she was to leave with the Crimson Fleet pirates and how she cried when they left without her, but goes into a screaming tirade when Sarah offers to take her away, although she is adamant--but not convincing--when she goes out of her way to declare her parents' admiration for Sarah and how Sarah did nothing wrong.

Conclusion: Sarah did something awful, was willing to sacrifice her crew to keep anyone from finding out, and was only willing to be pushed into checking on them twenty years later because she assumed they'd all be dead by then. This entire quest is written exactly the way I'd write it if I wanted to make clear (without directly stating it), that Sarah was an evil person who was, perhaps not willing to kill to keep her secret, but was perfectly willing to ALLOW multiple people she could have saved by speaking a single sentence to die rather than have that secret revealed.

And all you'd have to do to fix it is make it so Sarah was found AWAY from her campsite, and her own shuttle wasn't found until just now, and she was offered a chance to be the one to check on it. Or make it so the data isn't on her computer, but somehow now, after twenty years, Sona accidentally tripped and emergency beacon that her parents never activated because they didn't know the war was over. There are other solutions; I'm just saying it would be easy for any halfway competent writer to not fuck this up.

There's other stuff just in that one quest that is way off, and outside of that quest, I could easily give a hundred or more other examples off the top of my head of just lazy, objectively bad writing that any creative writing teacher (or any competent editor) would circle in red with some polite variation of, "WTF?" The ONLY good thing about the writing is the punched-up dialogue. That's it.

I mean, Skyrim has a lot of basic mistakes, too (like not knowing the difference between seep and steep), but with Starfield, it appears that Bethesda has just completely given up on any semblance of decent writing. I'd put the writing on the level of, say, the old Power Rangers shows, except that would be an insult to those who wrote for those shows.

Then again, Emil Pagliorulo (Bethesda's "writing director") has zero qualifications as a writer. I personally know at least a dozen authors (some critically-acclaimed, award-winning, and best-selling) who could do a better job, but who have to keep non-writing day jobs to make ends meet while this jackass gets paid for a job he's nowhere remotely qualified for. Hell, Pagliorulo has publicly declared his disdain for the very idea of trying to write well, saying that if you give the players a book, they will just "tear out the pages and make paper airplanes."

Like, dude, that just means you need to get some chops and write a better book.

[forevercloudnine]

what if the riddler was a female character? do you think fem riddler would be interesting?

This is EXACTLY the kind of question that Batman: The Drowned should have answered for me, but unfortunately fem!Bruce was too busy stabbing fem!Aquaman to death with her own trident and getting Gotham wiped off the face of the planet in reprisal. Like yes, #girlpower, but I would have really just preferred several group shot panels of Batman's entire genderbent rogues gallery.

But assuming this ask is more inquiring as to what would have happened if Riddler was created as a female character... interesting question!

Riddler only had three appearances before being adapted and arguably codified as an "A-list" villain in the 1966 television series, Detective Comics #140, #142, and Batman #171 (the last of which came out in 1965, and served as the basis for the show's pilot). I think it's likely that a female Riddler would still have been picked up for the show, since Catwoman had only had four appearances in the 1950's and still managed! Given how many female villains the show invented for itself (not to mention its compulsion to have a prominent woman hostage or henchgirl or both in every single episode), I think it was pretty desperate to get some attractive actresses on screen for the audience to look at.

Personally I think Riddler being a woman would at the very least have improved the movie (which is the only Batman '66 media I've seen all of), since it would have split the United Underworld 50/50 down the gender line. I'm guessing a female Riddler would have crushed on Batman as much as every other woman who existed in his presence on this show, though possibly on the grounds of seeing him as her intellectual equal? I feel like she still would have been stuck in the pre-00's Poison Ivy territory of obsessive unrequited attraction.

She definitely would have been a part of the Gotham City Sirens... like, actually a part of the GCS, not just a side character there to get put thrown around for the laughs because of Paul Dini enjoys writing Riddler and got removed from Detective Comics.

And I hate to say it, but unfortunately she probably would have permanently reformed after Dini's run (assuming he still would have made her a private detective). Ivy's gotten a handful of good villainy moments since the New 52 reboot, but at this point she's really only an anti-villain at best. Also unfortunate, but I don't think a female Riddler would have ever gotten to wear a suit, and also in the 90's she would have 100% been put in a question mark boob window version of Sue Storm's 90's costume:

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

songs about toxic people 7*

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

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*IMPORTANT NOTE: this is more like an interlude/bonus chapter actually centering more on misc bonten x reader Gen! interactions. it still ties in with the whole story, it’s just there’s less to zero sanzu in this one cus the focus will be more on the other bonten haha, so if you’re here exclusively for sanzu x reader, you may skip this if you like! 😬  

it’s just i got these headcanons that idk what to do with and also they are somewhat short 😭

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chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

chapter 7: We may not be a perfect family but we love each other (until we don’t) - koko

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Koko thinks of cats when he thinks of you; partly from the circumstances of your first meeting, partly ‘cause of the way you sort of simply glide in and out of rooms quietly with the stealth and fluidity of one.

(Although Sanzu had insisted he thought more of ghosts and wraiths, a comment which Koko only made light of even though he wasn’t wrong.)

She even kinda fights like a feline, he’d told Inupi one time all those years ago, as he thought of the way your lithe and minimal movements were always able to take bigger guys down along with the quiet ferocity to match.

Maybe she learns from all the cats back in the shrine, Inupi responded—a joke, essentially, in his own terms. Koko suppressed a smile: cat and dog, you and her, maybe that’s why you two get along so well went his own, sad attempt at humor, because you and your second-in-command were obviously very close and very unlike cats and dogs. The joke, however, sadly did not seem to land, and Inupi’s forehead only creased, his expression dumbfounded.

That’s not how it works.

Koko never forgets the day you were first introduced by Mikey. It’s at the back of Toman’s abandoned shrine, at the edge of the thick forest surrounding the area, that their new leader had said they’ll be meeting Black Dragon’s temporary captain. He never specified what anyone would be doing in the forest at this hour in the afternoon, and neither him nor Inupi had asked, but then there you were: in your bare feet and in your school uniform, attempting to move a big pot of plant from one spot of land to another, your expression almost annoyed. (At the pot, most likely, which did not seem to budge.)

Mikey called your attention still a few meters afar:

“Hey. Whatcha up to—”

in a tone that very clearly did not seem to intend to place whatever you were up to above this particular Toman business at the moment, so really, it would not have made any difference whether you answered or not. Which you didn’t, only glancing at your president once—not with the angry expression, at least—before continuing with your ordeal.

The pot nudged just a tiny bit.

Only when Mikey finally stopped right in front of you and you noticed Koko’s and Inupi’s figures behind him did you finally stand straight, looking at Mikey quizzically. “What’s up?” Quick nods to Inupi and him. “Hello.”

Mikey briefly introduced all of you and proceeded to explain that you were to be formally placed as the Black Dragon’s new captain today, to which your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh, I thought you said tomorrow.”

Mikey hesitated at first but then shrugged. “Hm, they came here already today so I thought might as well. Come on, it’ll be quick.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and then to his two quiet companions but then so agreed anyway, and as Mikey ushered you in front nobody else aside from Koko seemed to notice your lack of shoes. You’d only taken a few steps ahead when you tugged at the sleeve of Mikey’s coat, making him pause.

“I don’t have my Toman jacket,” which was obvious but was not what Koko was expecting for you to say, if he were to be honest.

Mikey looked at you blankly. “Well, where is it?”

“Well, something happened to it,” was your only vague response, but then you turned your head to where you just came from making all three boys follow suit. On a wooden bench slightly obscured by the plants were a family of cats consisting of a mother and her kittens, all sleeping peacefully in a cozy pile on top of your balled up Toman jacket.

“Oh. Okay.” Mikey only nodded like he completely understood. Without thinking about it twice, Sano Manjiro, Tokyo Manji gang’s No. 1—feared around the streets of Tokyo, bowed to no one and stepped over everyone—took off his billowing Toman coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, you can borrow mine,” he simply said. “I mean, you gotta look the part.”

Your mouth stretched into a grin.

Beside him, Inupi gave Koko a quick, wordless glance accompanied by that tiny, upward curve on the corner of his mouth that anyone else could’ve missed. Inupi rarely smiled at anything anymore those days—perhaps one of the reasons why this singular, initial meeting had stuck in his mind all these years. It’s one of those memories Koko always thought he could probably live without, occupying a quiet little corner in his mind which, frankly, a much more practical or life-changing memory could have occupied, if it were up to him. But then there you were with your cats and your air of schoolgirl abandon making Inupi smile, an information that he simply didn’t know what to do about.

“Alright, boss. But please, no speeches.”

This made Mikey laugh. “Can’t promise you that, I’m sorry.” It’s only after a few more steps that Mikey did finally notice your bare feet.

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

“Oh, they got wet,” you quietly said. “I was playing with the cats…” and three pairs of eyes stared at you like it wasn’t enough of an answer. “With a hose. Manjiro, I was watering the plants.”

And so you stood atop the shrine steps while addressing the men from Black Dragons, your feet bare and covered in scratches and the Toman president’s much bigger coat over your shoulders. Nobody questioned the absence of shoes—at least not out loud—not with your leader Manjiro right by your side, in his flip flops holding a half-eaten taiyaki in one hand.

The memory comes unannounced in snips and pieces some years later as another Bonten meeting ends. There’s various movements around the table by now, but then Koko catches your undivided staring as you sat across from him, your chin propped up against one hand. He ignores you for a short while as he fixes his things, until he finally decides to look up.

“Anything wrong?”

You suddenly purse your lips in a small smile amidst the gloomy and rigid air of mid-morning Monday meetings and for a moment, it’s as if Koko is thinking of another memory.

“I just realized you kinda look like my Mr. Kaku,” is all you say. The little remark makes not-your Kakucho look up from the document he’s reading without really turning his head, while Rindou who is seated beside you squints—in curiosity or amusement, Koko can’t tell. From his own right side, Takeomi is slowly angling his head as if meaning to take a better look at Koko behind his curtain of silver hair.

Mr. Kaku, of course, is your pet cat, the one with the smooth silver fur that you’d rescued from an abandoned site during an out-of-town business trip some months ago. You and your unimaginative pet naming sense landed on “Mr. Kaku,” in honor of your then-partner Kakucho who had volunteered to keep the cat inside his bag thru the doors of the hotel that didn’t allow pets. But he looks nothing like Kaku, Manjiro had quipped, earning a few grunts of approval from your ever-biased circle, but you couldn’t have been bothered so you stuck with the name.

Koko is quick to decipher that in your-speak, cat comparisons are more or less compliments and never a form of insult—not that in your mid-20s, you all haven’t already gotten above petty verbal affronts, after all. So he humors you, eyes now back to his things but with his attention still on the matter at hand. “What, is it the hair?”

“Yeah, it’s the hair,” Rindou says before you can answer, his head lolling lazily on one shoulder. “Can’t believe no one had noticed before.”

“And the eyes,” you simply nod. “They both got these nice, sharp eyes.”

Would you have named him Mr. Koko if you thought he resembled Kokonoi before? is the one lingering question that none of the men around you bother to ask.

It’s only a couple of weeks later, after another Bonten meeting, when Koko hands you a souvenir from his weekend business trip: a red cat collar with a customized pendant, a tiny enamel engraving of your Bonten tattoo. The pendant is black on one side and gold on the other, and the small gasp you let out makes every head in the room turn—the almost unfamiliar, genuine sound of delight thawing the usual morning’s stern atmosphere.

“There’s a shop right across the hotel where they make rush engravings like that.” Koko is saying casually like it’s no big deal, but he sees the expression on your face and he can’t help but grin. “Thought Mr. Kaku might like it.”

Your eyes perk up at the mention of ‘Mr. Kaku’ like Koko is the first person to ever acknowledge that Mr. Kaku doesn’t need to be named anything else apart from ‘Mr. Kaku.’ “Oh, it’s perfect, Koko. I’ll send you pictures once I make him wear it,” you say, your attention instantly back to your hands, choosing to ignore his ‘I think just one picture might be enough.’

From the other end of the room, Sanzu is making his way towards the door. “Congratulations,” he smirks as he passes by behind you, quirking one eyebrow up at Koko. “Now she won’t be shutting up about it all weekend,” because Sanzu will be spending the next three days with you over in another city to conduct business with another drug scion, of course.

Across the table, Kakucho only sighs before shaking his head. “I still wish you could’ve picked a better name for your cat,” he says—a valid complaint, Koko thinks bemusedly, now that your own Mr. Kaku looks more like a feline version of himself.

chapter 8 >

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this one goes out to my closest friends the ones who make me feel less alien

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[bnhabadass]

Dabi likes to sleep in. Everyone knows this about him. He stays up and prowls at night like a feral beast then sleeps in until noon like the lazy worn out college student he really is. But for some reason, this morning was different. He woke up after being hit upside the head with a pillow that ended up on the ground, as he often rolls around in his sleep.

“Get up,” Toga barked.

“What do you want?” He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow.

“We’re going to the library.” Toga stalked out of his room, leaving him to get dressed in solitude.

Dabi wouldn’t normally take orders from anyone, but Toga often kept him in check. Freshman year she stopped him from getting into fist fights every day with some asshole living on their dormitory floor. Ever since then she’s made sure he’s passing his classes, staying out of trouble, and getting tested regularly for STDs. She doesn’t mind. If anything, he figures that she might fall apart without having that little piece of her life to take care of.

Dabi stretched out his limbs before getting up and putting on a t-shirt and jeans. He combed his messy hair between his fingers and slung on his jacket.

When he left his room, Toga shoved a mug of black coffee in his face. He took a sip and gagged. “Piss water coffee.”

Toga gave a snarky laugh. “Drink up, Dabi. We have a long day ahead of us.”

He rolled his eyes and forced down another swallow. “Great.”

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The library is one of the more crowded buildings on campus. It’s old and the crumbling foundation is one of the many health hazards the building has to offer. Still, it’s the only place on campus where one can sit down and actually focus on their work.

“What are we doing here again?” Dabi asked, spotting a table through the sea of students struggling to find the right books and studying for exams. He sat down at the table and gulped down the rest of his drink.

“I have a test in my early Japanese history class and I need you to quiz me.”

“And we couldn’t have done this at home?”

Toga giggled in a maniacal way. “You know I can’t study in that musty old house. I need to get out and get some fresh air.”

“Well you’re not gonna get that here that’s for sure.” Dabi tried taking another sip of coffee but was disappointed when he remembered he already finished it.

Shoving her flashcards in front of him, Toga sat on the other side of the table, twiddling her thumbs eagerly as she waited for him to read the first question. However, before he could even reach for the index cards, her excitable voice perked up. “Is that (Y/n)-chan?”

Dabi turned around and scouted the sea of students to find you sitting at a table with a few friends. Your laptop was open in front of you with a half written document open on the screen. You were laughing and smiling, and although he wouldn’t admit it, he was happy seeing you so cheerful.

The people around you had the same giddy look on their faces as they joked, but yours was the only one that really stood out.

“She’s so pretty,” Toga mused. “And that girl she’s with is pretty cute.”

Dabi didn’t say anything, just nodded at her remark.

“And so is that green haired guy she’s with.” Toga licked her lips as if she was looking at her next meal.

Dabi shifted his eyes to look at the boy she was referring to. “He looks like a dork.”

“Yeah well so does (Y/n),” she giggled. “But she’s a dork in the cutest way possible.”

Dabi’s eyes shifted back to look at you as you diligently typed away at your laptop, sometimes taking a break to sip from the disposable coffee cup next to your books. You must have gotten the drink from the cafe on campus this morning. That was good; you didn’t have to subject yourself to Toga’s wrong-doings.

He zeroed in on your lips and the way you would tug at flakes of the dry skin with your teeth. And your hands, cracked from the chilly wind outdoors, which lifted up to rub the heavy bags under your eyes.

“She isn’t like us, you know,” Toga said. Her legs kicked back and forth under the table as if she were a rambunctious child.

Dabi shot his piercing blue eyes in her direction, only for her to just smile wider. “How so?”

“Look at her. She does her work and doesn’t skip class. She even works two different jobs just to afford textbooks.” Toga’s eyes softened as she watched you drop your pen on the carpeted floor and lean down to pick it back up. “She’s motivated. She isn’t like us.”

Dabi thought back to every time he caught you coming home late at night. He assumed you were at a friend’s house smoking or something, but it dawned on him that those bags under your eyes weren’t from a weed hangover. That, and he never seemed to find you without a cup of coffee in your hand. How do you do it?

“Dabi?” Toga asked. “Dabi? Dabi!”

Her swinging foot made harsh contact with his shin. “Ow,” he grumbled under his breath. “The fuck was that for?”

“Read the card!”

He rolled his eyes and tapped the deck of flashcards onto the table again. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

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Fridays were your easy days, which was nice since it was so close to the weekend. If it weren’t for Uraraka and Midoriya asking you to work on your paper with them early in the morning, you’d be asleep.

You couldn’t help but yawn before downing the rest of your coffee. You never really liked studying with your friends because you always seemed to get distracted. You preferred sitting at your desk with headphones placed over your ears to drown out any noise coming from the house. That noise usually consisted of Spinner and Shigaraki gaming until four in the morning or Dabi bringing home someone in the middle of the night. Either way, it was all an unwanted distraction.

“Do you have work tonight, (Y/n)?” Uraraka asked. She slid her laptop into its protective sleeve and tucked it away in her backpack.

You nodded.

“Diner or phonathon?”

Working two part-time jobs was...well it was rough. While your job working on campus calling up alumni and begging them to donate to the school’s funds was humiliating, at least they respected your class schedule. Your boss at the diner was ruthless, sometimes scheduling you for twenty hour work weeks even though you asked him to only give you ten.

“Phonathon,” you said, packing up the last of your textbooks you were using. “It’s only a three hour shift so I should have some time to relax tonight for once.”

“You work so hard,” Midoriya sympathized. “You deserve more breaks than you get.”

You couldn’t help the little chuckle that left your lips. He had no idea how right he was.

“It’s whatever.” You shrugged your shoulders but the little side glance your friends gave to one another didn’t go unnoticed by you.

After bidding them adieu, you left the library to head to class. Only six more hours, you kept reminding yourself. Then I can rest.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[azucanela]

chapter i

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: cursing.

word count: 3k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

series masterlist

Y/N’S HEAD IS POUNDING when she wakes up the following day. Her hand coming to rub her temple as she attempts to soothe the throbbing of her own head, the light just barely seeping through her blinds already feels like too much as she rises up in her bed. Blinking a few times, Y/N’s eyes adjust to the light and she sighs, stretching her arms upwards and almost wincing at the sound of her bones cracking.

You’d think that a Pro Hero wouldn’t have such issues, and yet.

Coming to a stand, Y/N hisses at the feeling of her cold floor, frowning before she makes her way towards the hallway and rubbing a hand against her eye. She catches a look of herself in the mirror, hair amiss, makeup that she’d applied from the night before still on— and yet her eye bags seem to have grown. If Y/N is honest, she looks and feels like a mess.

That should be a given though, seeing as she couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten home last night. Though Y/N was sure the news would detail any screw ups she’d made. Sighing as she grabs the TV remote from the coffee table by her couch and clicks the TV on. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” She mumbles out when the TV turns on to reveal that she is in fact the headline, alongside Bakugou Katsuki. 

Almost on cue, a set of rapid knocks sound against her door and Y/N already knows who it is, again.

It was an accident, Y/N hadn’t meant to get blackout drunk at a literal Gala filled with several respectable and admirable peers from the Pro Hero world. And she certainly hadn’t meant to speak poorly about one of those peers— well, if she could really call Bakugou that at this point. After all there was a reason she spoke poorly of him.

“He’s an— an ill-mannered, rude, insufferable—” Y/N inhaled deeply as she looked to Lorelai, gesturing her hands vividly as she finally said, “bastard!”

Lorelai stands with a hand pressed against her temple, rubbing it gently as though that would end the headache that Y/N had probably caused with her shenanigans. “I warned you.”  She mumbles out before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone as Y/N continues to drone on about the young man.

“I ran into him and I was filled with complete and utter rage. Did I do a few questionable things? Yes. Do I regret them—” Y/N sighs, bringing her hands to her face as the news plays in the background before saying, “I do.” 

If Y/N was honest, she wasn’t remorseful at all, not when it was Bakugou they were talking about. But she was embarrassed, she’d acted out like a child and there was no denying it. As much as she disliked the idea, a public apology was probably necessary and a private one to Bakugou was the least she owed him. 

Currently Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katuski were on every headline and front page there were, all because Y/N had elected to get a little too drunk and start talking trash about Bakugou. In the world of Pro Heroes, her word carried a lot of weight, so although it was unprofessional, Y/N had a feeling it was Bakugou’s PR team that was panicking right now. 

"You’re trending.” Comes Lorelai’s words, a hand coming to scratch the back of her neck awkwardly as she looks back up at Y/N, “I suppose that’s good.” 

Y/N had a feeling the people who shipped her with Bakugou were rather devastated upon finding out that the (non-existent) couple that they idolized yet had zero interaction actually hated one another. “Maybe they’ll stop thinking Bakugou and I would ever enter a relationship now.”

Raising a brow, Lorelai looks up to her, typing away at her phone without looking at the keyboard as she replies, “actually they’re shipping you with Pro Hero Deku. They caught quite a few pictures of you two dancing together last night.” Lorelai’s eyes returned to her screen, squinting as she mumbled out, “the Bakugou shippers are disappointed, but they’re still going strong. Something about… enemies to lovers?”

Y/N groans in annoyance, it was beginning to become abundantly clear that nothing good was going to come of this. Not that she expected such a thing, but a girl can hope. With a sigh, she shakes away those thoughts, pushing them to the back of her mind as she looks to Lorelai, “what are we going to do?” 

“I am going to speak with Bakugou’s publicist, and set up a meeting.” Comes Lorelai’s response, bringing the phone to her ear as she made her way towards the door for more privacy. 

Y/N looked to her publicist, brows furrowed, “I don’t want to meet with Bakugou.”

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai gestured to the TV as she replied, “we don’t have much of a choice do we?” Sighing, Lorelai stares at the ringing phone before saying, “you can’t let your issues with Bakugou interfere with your career— you two were bound to work together at some point. Whether you wanted to or not.”

Y/N can easily pick up on the underlying words as Lorelai steps out the door, she’s essentially telling her to suck it up. And though Y/N recognizes that she is absolutely and completely correct— that she unfortunately cannot allow Bakugou’s existence to interfere with her career, that doesn’t mean she can’t be upset about it. 

And besides, avoiding him had gone perfectly fine up until now. Y/N was still wondering what had possessed him to actually attend a public event. Last she’d checked, the boy hated them with a passion, and most of the time they only further damaged his reputation. 

Last night was only more evidence of that fact. 

“You’re right.” Comes Y/N’s words, sighing dejectedly as she sinks further into her couch. “Let me know how it goes.” Even Y/N could recognize that there was no other choice, and well— she had to be mature and realistic about this.

Lorelai steps away, and Y/N finds herself glad that she can’t hear whatever it is the woman is saying as she straightens her posture, sitting up as she crosses her legs on the couch to watch the news. 

“Famed Pro Hero Y/N L/N was caught expressing her true feelings for Bakugou Katsuki, and they certainly weren’t what fans were hoping for.” The woman on the screen leans back in her seat, moving out of the way to gesture to the screen behind her, as she opens her mouth to speak again, Y/N finds herself grabbing the remote and changing the channel with a glare towards the reporter. 

Not that it was her fault, Y/N had a feeling if she had a job with any news station right now, this story would mean everything for her career. But she didn’t, she was a Pro Hero, and she had more important things to do— and even then, weren’t there more important things to report on? 

The screen changes, and this time there’s another woman on the screen, a solemn look on her face as she leans forward on the desk with her hands clasped. “As the anniversary of the villain Stain’s incarceration grows near, civil unrest has begun to worsen. With another copy cat killer on the loose, it seem that people have once again taken to the streets to demand his release, or at least a change in his current life sentence for the murder of—”

Y/N shuts off the TV, grimacing at the reminder of her school years. Each year, crime would spike, so more Pro Heroes would set to work around this time. And each year, the number of casualties for Pro Heroes would practically triple because of all the people that tried to target them. This wouldn’t be the first Stain copy cat they’d seen, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Most of them didn’t last this long though, caught by the police by their first attempt ideally, if not then their first kill.

Y/N had lost good friends to people like that. 

Exhaling deeply, she comes to a stand, pulling out her phone to see she had several unread messages from Lorelai, all of which were in reference to the current… situation they were dealing with. There were— unsurprisingly— a few messages of concern from Izuku that Y/N can’t help but smile at. The boy had always been too kind for his own good. But what did confuse her were the messages from an unknown number, Y/N’s brows furrowed as she moved to open them. 

UNKNOWN ???

It was only a single message, but it still leaves Y/N confused, few people had access to her number, and for some reason she finds it unnerving as she goes to delete the conversation.

BAKUGOU WISHED HE COULD FORGET the chaos that had been the night before. Alas, every moment was burned into his mind, especially that bit in which Y/N had cursed him out while drunk and maybe something about him trying to fight Deku but that wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. 

His eyes open to the sound of his alarm, and like clockwork— Bakugou rises from his bed and when his feet hit the floor he’s slipping on a set of house shoes instantly. He’d always been more of the type to live a methodical, routine like, life. Make the bed, cook himself a healthy breakfast if he hadn’t already meal prepped for the week, take a shower, get dressed, go to work. And then do it all over again. 

Bakugou had never felt the need for any spontaneity, seeing as his job provided enough of that. Surprise, there’s a murderer on the loose. Surprise, the murderer targets heroes specifically. Surprise, it's a stain copycat killer. Surprise! He hates Pro Hero Ground Zero more than anything in the world. 

The entirety of last night was not the type of surprise Bakugou was used to. Seeing as his phone is ringing as he tries to make his breakfast, and when he looks to see it’s his publicist— well, that isn’t really something out of the ordinary seeing as Bakugou seems to have a different “scandal” every week. But when the calls don’t stop coming...

Last night was a disaster, it didn’t take a genius to recognize that. Just anyone with a phone and some sort of social media, or a tv that had access to the news. Which was basically everyone nowadays. Bakugou liked to think that he had gone through worse, like when they caught him speaking poorly about Deku— although the boy had assured them that Bakugou meant no harm, and Y/N probably wouldn’t do the same.

Yeah, this was a problem. 

Bakugou had a feeling that if he hadn’t been the person who hired him, his publicist would’ve cursed him out by now. Regardless, the man in question had remained… kind of calm. He was clearly on the verge of some sort of breakdown, staring Bakugou down like a hawk as he sat across from him— hands pressed together as they rested against his chin. The man had arrived shortly after leaving Bakugou about a dozen voicemails.

“How did you manage to piss off one of the most influential women in Pro Hero society?”

Despite being a newer Hero, Y/N had worked alongside several of the Top Pro Heroes already, probably because of her connections with Pro Hero Hawks and her own Charisma, making her one of the most likable of the next generation. That and the fact that she was regarded as a potential Number 1 Hero given the speed she was rising through the ranks. 

Although Bakugou was sure this had damaged her credibility in some sort of way, he had no doubt she’d come back from this, even if he didn’t. After all, he wasn’t necessarily known for his award winning personality. 

In response to his publicist’s question, Bakugou finds himself crossing his arms, shrugging before he replies, “beats me.”

Inhaling deeply, his publicist brings a hand to his temple, rubbing it rather harshly in an attempt to end the major headache that was coming on. “You have no idea? None at all—” One of the other PR assistants is standing beside them once more, the guy had been leaving and coming back for a while actually. This time he seems rather anxious though, “and what the hell do you want?”

“Well— well, sir. You see, we’ve been getting a call from—”

His publicist, Haru Ishida, as Bakugou had come to know him, appears to have a vein popping out of his head as he replies, “I don’t care which major news platform wants to hear what we have to say, tell them the same thing—”

“It’s Ms. L/N’s publicist!” The man cries out, hand pressed against the receiver of the phone to keep said woman from hearing their interaction, face flushed red in embarrassment as he stands straighter and adds, “sir.”

Haru’ jaw drops open as he immediately shoots up from his seat, snatching the phone from the assistants hand and bringing it to his ear before swiftly saying, “Haru Ishida, how can I help you?”

Bakugou gives the man a look, “put it on speaker.” He hisses out.

The man does as he’s told and a woman’s voice fills the room, “I think it’s more of how I can help you, Mr. Ishida.” A pause, “I’d like to set up a meeting between our clients. We can discuss more in person.”

“Hell no.” Bakugou says instantly, seeing as his little reunion with his former classmate yesterday had gone very poorly, Bakugou couldn’t really see a world in which another meeting with Y/N benefitted him in any way. Despite this, his words cause Haru to glare at him, opening his mouth to respond only for Y/N to beat him to it.

“Bakugou.” She muses, “both you and Y/N are experiencing blowback from this.” Comes her words, the sound of typing on the other end of the call as she continues, “but you need us more than we need you. I know Y/N will come back from this, with or without you. But can you say the same about your career?” There’s almost a subtle threat if you read between the lines and it leaves Bakugou cursing under his breath.

If Bakugou was right, this was Lorelai Flores, a renowned publicist though she was rather new to the game. As someone who aspired to be the best, Bakugou initially sought her out. She’d rejected his attempts at hiring her of course, which is why he’d ended up with the second best he could secure. Haru, who was currently inhaling deeply as he replied, “that can be arranged.”

“No it cannot—” Haru ignores Bakugou’s attempt at protesting, simply shooting him a glare before returning his attention to the call.

“Fantastic!” The woman exclaims, “perhaps it can be just you and I, Haru. Clearly our clients aren’t inclined to be anywhere near each other. Of course, if all goes well then I’m sure they’ll be seeing each other plenty.” The sound of a pen scribbling against a paper followed by, “pick me up at 7, you have my address.”

The call ends, and Bakugou’s brow is raised as he looks back to his publicist, who clears his throat before saying, “we’ll come to a consensus sir.”

Meanwhile, the PR assistant from before looks to Haru, “fraternizing with the enemy?”

“I can fire you.” Haru hisses in response, eyes narrowing at the boy before looking back to Bakugou as he straightens himself and collects the paper’s before him, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my meeting with Ms. Flores.” He moves to leave, hovering by the door as he says, “by the way, I believe Pro Hero Red Riot is heading this way at the moment.” 

Bringing his hands to his face, Bakugou groans, if he had to guess— Kirishima was going to lecture him, again. He finds himself coming to a stand making his way around the couch, he doesn’t bother to meet Kirishima the door since he’s already making his way inside. At the same time, Bakugou is left to watch as the rest of his PR team is exiting his apartment one by one, taking their equipment with them wordlessly. 

And so, in comes Kirishima, a bright smile on his face as he calls out, “hey Bakubro!” Arms spread wide as he greets his friend, coming to wrap his arms around him. Although Bakugou doesn’t return the hug, he allows the physical contact.

“Hey shitty hair.” Comes his response, mumbled out as he is finally released from Kirishima’s grip. “What do you want?”

With a shrug, Kirishima, steps further inside Bakugou’s apartment, “I figured you might wanna talk—”

“Don’t wanna talk.” Bakugou interrupts, narrowing his eyes at Kirishima. 

Nodding slowly, Kirishima offers him a tight lipped smile, a short silence encompassing them before he says, “but she said some intense stuff so I though—”

“No.” 

“I can talk to her?

“Absolutely not.”

With that, Bakugou found himself wondering how this could possibly get worse at this point, of course, his question would soon be answered seeing as things could definitely get worse.

[verryberriess]

Whatever This Is | Chapter 1

READ PROLOGUE HERE!!

Whatever This Is

Synopsis: In which Jude and Cardan meet again after seven years, but not on good terms.

thanks to @maastrash for helping me edit LOL!!!! :D

CHAPTER ONE

The last time I saw Cardan Greenbriar was seven years ago.

Today, seven years later, we were a mere few feet apart. I’m unsure whether to feel relieved or insulted at his lack of acknowledgement. Relieved that maybe he has forgotten my face and I could continue along with my life, undeterred and unaffected as ever. But insulted, because, maybe he has forgotten me.

“Are you ready to order?” The cashier startles me. I didn’t realize that the line had suddenly quickened in pace. He must be new, since I haven’t seen him around the Torre’s until today.

Thankfully, I respond with my usual order without thinking. The cashier nods and I fumble my purse in search of my wallet. I’m able to quickly spot my cyan-colored wallet and unbutton its strap with haste, fishing for my credit card from the compartment with my nail. The card is stubborn, in a tight space stuck to two other cards.

“Sorry,” I look up and flash the cashier a tight smile, embarrassment coloring my features.

The cashier responds in turn, his green eyes alight in amusement. “It’s alright. That happens to me all the time.”

I immediately return to the war against my card, which finally relents. I slam it into the card reader, chip in first. While the payment approves, I smile and say, “Thanks for your patience,“ peering down at his name tag to add, “Beckett.” He is handsome and new, and on another day I would try to get to know him, but I am in a hurry, so I walk from the bounds of the register and head straight towards the door outside.

The door swings open in response to my adrenaline and haste. I curse inwardly at the crowd outside of Torre’s that seems to have gotten even bigger. As I mutter “Excuse me’s” and sidestep around the large number of people, I inspect the streets for an absurdly tall head of iridescent midnight hair. I am quickly astonished to see that exact head right in the middle of the large crowd, showering the thrall of excited women with a crooked smile.

Cardan stands in the middle. While he keeps his hands at his sides, his posture is loose and his torso leans in to angle himself for a selfie with another woman. The woman presses her back into Cardan’s again. He doesn’t seem bothered by this at all.

I zero in on the changes in his features. He has gotten taller, his face more angular. His style has been perfected, dressed in a dark suit and decorated in gold rings and darks and blacks while the midnight black hair atop his head seems unruly and untamed, as if on purpose. All these years and he seems to have perfected perfection, looking more horrifically beautiful than ever. I have forgotten this obtrusive charm I had once been fooled by, and even after all these years I am disgusted at myself for still being reigned in, captivated.

But all of a sudden, for a few seconds, he turns his head away from his surroundings and regards me with his eyes, looking as if he were noting my presence with the same disgust, and then quickly looking away. The exchange was so quick, I had barely registered it.

Yet, as I stand at the outskirts of this group, I am reminded of the past, and how I have gotten over this already. I have replayed scenario after scenario of reunions in my head after the first few months of my departure, but I had never really anticipated some overly-large crowd separating Cardan Greenbriar and I by just a few feet.

A few feet that might as well be an ocean. Or two.

I can’t help but marvel at how we were once more than acquainted with each other. That look had reminded me that everything is over, that he wants nothing to do with me. Seven years could be more, if I refocused myself. I could do that, I reminded myself. Seven years could turn into forever.

A twinge of sorrow worms its way into my gut. I squash it.

I turn around. My coffee must be done by now and I want to head to work before I’m late. I suppose the sidewalk will take some weaving around and being late was not on my agenda.

My steps are forward. I make my way back to the door of Torre’s, pulling open the door to step in.

But a familiar voice, ringed with the same distinct tone of arrogance and authority that I haven’t heard in years, ceases any of my movements.

“You need to back up.”

My grip at the handle falters, and another person shuffles out on the other side. They thank me for holding the door for them.

Instead of responding, I turn back around and face the direction of where the voice had called. The atmosphere feels almost different. Where the women had once been gathered around him, they now stand at a distance, clearing for the space he had requested.

I watch one of them snap a quick selfie while he is in her background. She leaves the group right afterwards. My eyes move back to where Cardan is, but he is walking towards my direction, uncaring of the people around him.

I pull the door handle hurriedly and slip inside into the safety of Torre’s. The chatter and ambiance of the coffeehouse usually offer safe haven from San Francisco’s morning bustles, but not today.

I could feel his looming presence right behind me, about to catch up to my stride. I’m not about to do this right now. I don’t think I can.

The choice is ripped away from me, however, when a gentle grip takes hold of my wrist.

“Jude?” The voice is soft, a complete one-eighty from that of authority outside.

I still immediately. I first turn to check the surroundings, discovering that none of the women from outside have followed him in. Then, I glance at the hand which still grips my wrist. I try to shake it off. Cardan’s hold is firm, but he reluctantly lets go. He removes himself slowly as if he is unsure whether or not he should.

Taking a step away, he stands and shifts awkwardly. He is too tall now, absurdly towering over me. Where he used to be only about an inch taller, he is now a few inches above my height. He is no longer able to slouch against me without adjusting himself as easily anymore.

The distance between us is off-putting. Though traits like his height and broadness separate us physically from our past selves, it is the other changes in our approaches and personalities that further highlight the obnoxious tension between us.

Why he suddenly acknowledges my presence is a mystery to me. Why he is here astonishes me. I am unsure if fate is cruel enough to have forced us to meet in this kind of circumstance, or if this was a making of pure coincidence.

Cardan stares at me with some deep intensity. I want to be rid of his scathing stare, grab my coffee, and disappear from this whole ordeal. Pretend that this stain of an encounter had not been inked upon seven years of spotless script.

“Cardan,” I say stiffly. Once acquainted, but now strangers. I am hesitant to say more, despite all the questions that rage within my mind and my wickedly cursed heart. Everything about this is full of uncertainty and unpredictability. A type of situation that I am not entirely familiarized with, since plans and strategy have always ruled my life. It is frustratingly tiresome.

Cardan eyes the row of occupied couches, and later the arrangement of empty rustic tables and chairs. He gestures out to the seats, “Why don’t we find a seat? I imagine that we have much to catch up on.”

I secretly consider his offer, but my brain votes to think of ways to escape his reach. Before I can make a decision though, I am led away to an open table. I am reluctant to make this encounter any longer than it should be, but I decide that I should at least gain some reasoning for his recent presence.

“I’m glad you’re so eager to see me again. After all, it’s been so long.” Cardan resumes his usual nonchalant character. “What an extraordinary coincidence running into you here.”

For a moment, I remark on his wording. I am glad that this turned out to be an occasion of pure coincidence.

Concern or indifference? I decided on the latter tone to respond with. “Yes, it certainly has been a while. But considering how we left things, I’m surprised that you even want to be near me.”

He raises an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth lift slightly. “Considering how we’ve left things, I’m surprised you’ve let me into your vicinity.” It doesn’t look like it, but the small twinges in expression reveal that he is thinking of what to say next. I am about to retort back, but what he asks next catches me off guard as he continues, softly, “Why did you leave for so long?”

My cheeks heat. At this, I am suddenly hyper aware of how close he is, of his overwhelming heat despite the violent cold that rages outside, and how he almost whispers his question, with a compelling mix of rasp and seduction. He towers over me, as if using his height to shield me from the world like he has done so many times those years ago, but in this instance, it feels as though he is also looking for something. Cardan is cautious though, leaving room for retreat.

If I am not careful myself, I imagine that I would fall into his chest, and take advantage of the closeness that I had secretly yearned for nearly a decade. Seven years be damned, my focused mentality would dissolve into dust.

I announce my resolve by taking a step back. The distance between him and I is lengthened. Although my heart curses at me, my mind is indiscriminate. I hadn’t expected this conversation to go about this way. Though, I also didn’t know what to expect. Everything was unpredictable at this point and many things have changed. I didn’t know what response he wanted, because he should’ve known why I left.

“... Because of you.” I say gruffly. I leave little context, wanting him to fill in the blanks.

For a second, a mixture of hurt and surprise leaks into his expression before it is masked again. In that second I can’t help but relish in a small sense of satisfaction that I had got to him. Hurt for hurt. An eye for an eye. Whatever game he is trying to play at this time will not rouse a fraction of feeling from me. Not again.

“I see.” Again, Cardan contemplates. He does not show anything, but his eyes start to roam around us, like he is taking in the coffeehouse setting again as if he wasn’t just here only a few moments ago.

“Excuse me?” The green-eyed cashier from before stands in front of us.

He looks between Cardan and I. Cardan, in turn, twists to the direction of the abrupt voice, and slowly assesses his form. I watch his eyes trail up and down the cashier’s physique, his face contorting in judgement before glaring at him, clearly annoyed by his abrupt intrusion.

Beckett turns to me instead, smiling brightly. His dimples deepen and his white teeth flash to me. He holds out a branded cup of Torre’s. “Hey, Jude right? We called out your name earlier, but I don’t think you heard us. I thought I’d bring your coffee to you before it got cold.”

“Thanks so much, I almost forgot.” I take the cup from him and gently set it down at our table.

“Of course.” Beckett still hovers over us, his attention only towards me. “Andrea told me you were a regular here. I should have known.”

“Yes, I come here often. But it’s okay, I noticed that you’re new here too. And it’s Beckett right?” I ask.

Beckett replies, “Yeah, it’s actually my second day.”

Beckett hovers over us. I notice that he is handsome, with close-cropped blonde hair that is slightly grown out. His green eyes twinkle as he observes me in return. He is well-muscled and tan from what I could see of his arms, which are mostly covered by his gray, long-sleeved uniform.

I take a quick glance at Cardan. His fingers tap the tabletop in a particular rhythm as he watches the exchange between Beckett and I.

“Well, I better get back to work now. If you need anything else, check your cup.” Beckett smiles again and walks away.

I look back at the coffee cup and peer at Cardan who eyes its side, a murderous expression set upon his facial features. His eyes are cold and his jaw is clenched.

As I take the cup in my hands, I inspect the sticker attached to the side of the cup. A phone number written in scrawly blue ink is scribbled onto the light orange sticker.

“​​I didn’t realize hand-serving customers was a part of the job description.” Cardan remarks icily.

“Well,” I clear my throat. “At least he’s done something you didn't have the balls to do seven years ago.”

A/N: i haven't been here in a while... hello! let me know if you want to be put on the tag list lOL

[shihalyfie]

Shiramine Nokia, and her role in Cyber Sleuth’s narrative

This one’s on request! Cyber Sleuth is quite the interesting game and a rather landmark entry in the franchise, mainly for being a love letter to the franchise and its long history itself, and for being the franchise’s very first work exclusively aimed at adults, meaning that it can explore different topics that wouldn’t normally be Sunday morning timeslot material, while also being a little more willing to assume that the people playing this are familiar with a lot of older parts of the franchise (not that it’s advisable to have complete lockout, but the game benefits greatly by not needing to assume lockout by default).

One of the ways Cyber Sleuth exhibits its “franchise love letter” status is by starting off the game all the way back at the franchise’s roots, before Digimon Adventure changed the game and everyone’s perception of Digimon and Digimon partnership, when the V-Pet lore was intertwined with Digimon as elements of hard sci-fi. As the game proceeds, the atmosphere slowly starts to resemble the more fantasy-like version of the franchise established by Digimon Adventure and its follower entries -- and that change is represented in none other than Nokia herself.

Before we begin: As anyone who follows my meta work has probably noticed, I generally prefer to have my analyses use tons of references and screenshots so that it’s easy to follow and the evidence is concrete, but Cyber Sleuth is a game, and it’s much harder to get those things without replaying the entire game, so I hope this won’t be too hard to follow despite being mostly text.

Nokia’s background and personality

If we want to apply the producer’s statements on Twitter, Nokia is 17 years old at the time of Cyber Sleuth, and has a backstory of having originally been a shy, bullied child who broke out of her shell thanks to the influence of her cousin (who, of all people, happens to be none other than Date Makiko). The flashback we get with Nokia in chapter 18, however, portrays her as just a fairly cheerful, go-getter child, but (although we only get to see her hair) she’s not quite as “flashy” or in-your-face as the description entails.

A possible hypothesis for rationalizing this all together comes from a what we learn about the process of memory wiping in Cyber Sleuth chapter 14: even if memories are extracted from the person, there’s some kind of residual memory left behind (the producer’s above statement also states that the same thing had even happened to Suedou). In Hacker’s Memory chapter 16, Arata confesses to Ryuji that the first Under Zero incident and Jude's loss to the Knightmon had re-triggered his trauma from having lost Yuugo years prior -- “not the memory, but the feeling.” So in other words, there was some feeling of loss that came after the loss of Yuugo that impacted those involved -- and it’s very possible that this deeply impacted and traumatized Nokia as well.

Assuming we’re still following this line of thought (since, again, this background point wasn’t actually in the game proper), Nokia eventually decided to break out of her shell thanks to Makiko’s influence, and become eccentric and assertive, and thus, the game begins.

While we’re here, I also want to point out that Nokia is also voiced by Han Megumi, possibly the Digimon franchise’s most notorious “promoted fangirl” who freaked out after getting to meet her childhood characters’ voice actors while cast as Airu in the Xros Wars crossover and ended up casted in a handful of major Digimon roles thereafter as a result. Which is not to say that her voice performance wasn’t also absolutely perfect for the bright and aggressive Nokia, but, you know...considering the below analysis, food for thought.

Nokia as a representative of “the conventional franchise”

Cyber Sleuth opens on a world where Digimon are largely seen as hacker programs, and even the hackers themselves only see them as non-sentient programs; there are ones like Chitose who treat them with empathy, but his attitude seems to be kindness towards them in a way not entirely unlike a family would treat a Roomba. Although he doesn’t admit to it at first, Arata himself also comes from this “world” of hackers, and we later learn that Yuuko herself is as well (via her “Yuugo” persona), meaning that, other than the playable protagonist, Nokia is the only “outside-context” person -- a completely ordinary civilian who’s gotten dragged into all of this.

Much like, say, the protagonists of Digimon Adventure.

With this background behind her, once she’s thrown into the world of hackers, she immediately has a “fateful encounter” with Agumon and Gabumon, instantly recognizable as two of the franchise’s most prominent Digimon (and complete with their Adventure voice actors, too). And I do especially bring up Adventure specifically, because while Nokia’s position in the game does end up taking in certain elements that roughly came around that era and possibly slightly predated it (mostly Digimon World and V-Tamer), Agumon and Gabumon weren’t particular mascots of the franchise until Adventure basically blew everything to pieces.

Right off the bat, Nokia does not have a single shred of doubt that Agumon and Gabumon are living beings and should be treated as such (again, much like the protagonists of Digimon Adventure; even Taichi in his “is this a game?” mode never doubted this). And they open up their meeting with this conversation:

Agumon: Umm, who are you? Nokia: It... It can talk?! It's so... so... so adoooooorable! M-M-M-M-My name's Nokia. What're your names? Agumon: Me? My name is Agumon! Gabumon: I... I'm Gabumon. Nokia: Agumon and Gabumon? Hee hee! What weird names! Gabumon: Hey, they're not weird! Agumon: You're the one with the weird name! Nokia: As if! My name's not weird! Hee hee!

And on top of that, Agumon refers to Nokia as having a “familiar” scent. Remember this for later.

Nokia’s second encounter with Agumon and Gabumon in Cyber Sleuth chapter 3 involves her properly partnering herself with Agumon and Gabumon, and learning about the existence of the “Digital World”. Note that, for all intents and purposes, EDEN had been treated like the functional equivalent of the Digital World in this narrative up until this point -- cyberspace with hackers, coming from the network, it’s basically a “digital world” from top to bottom, and yet here Agumon and Gabumon are introducing the concept of a more fantasy-esque incarnation of a digital world. (And, in fact, despite EDEN being right there, many long-time Digimon fans playing this game often complained about how little you get to see the “Digital World” in this game, because of how associated that term is with something more fantasy-like.) So, again: here we have Nokia, who’s forming a partnership with Agumon and Gabumon as equals instead of recruiting them as hacker tools (even the protagonist wasn’t immune to this method), and being indirectly responsible for introducing the more fantasy-like concept of the Digital World that the modern franchise is currently associated with.

Nokia embarks on the conventional shounen anime character arc of starting off cowardly, but eventually learning to have her own inner strength, with her Digimon evolving in accordance to her emotions. And, eventually, in Cyber Sleuth chapter 8, she decides to form her own hacker team, called the “Rebels”. She ostensibly bases it off the old creed of Jude, having heard that they were a team that never caused trouble for others, but we later learn via Arata turning out to have been its former leader, and the even later portrayal in Hacker’s Memory of its spiritual successor Hudie, that this is an extremely rose-colored image of them -- Jude (and Hudie) was not a well-intentioned team by any means, but rather a sort of mercenary group meant to enforce the “freedom” of EDEN, often taking on shady jobs and “punishing” entities they considered to be causing chaos. But in this case, Nokia forms her team under the idea of legitimately fighting for justice and good will -- again, much like a Digimon Adventure protagonist.

In case the metaphor weren’t clear enough, Nokia decides that the members of her group will not be called “hackers”, but “Tamers” -- the same lingo used by the franchise to refer to a human who partners alongside a Digimon to help them get stronger -- and that she wants to promote the idea of humans and Digimon working in tandem (complete with emotional bonding exercises). For this, everyone looks at her weird, and yet her methodology, initially naive as it seems, keeps working, because Nokia’s natural charisma starts bringing people from different places together and making quite the formidable team. Everyone is perplexed by this, but perhaps it’s only natural, because Nokia has just independently invented the modern concept of Digimon partnership in a world where it did not exist. And this is eventually solidified by the Under Zero invasion in Cyber Sleuth chapter 10, in which Omegamon is finally formed (from sheer guts on her part).

Omegamon is yet another symbol of the modern franchise, but it’s important to remember that he hasn’t always been so; even his appearance in V-Tamer was as more of a tactical piece than any kind of game-breaker, but the impact of Our War Game! has led him to constantly make a resurgence in major franchise roles (maybe a little too much these days). However, on top of Nokia basically embodying the modern franchise itself by doing this, Nokia and Arata’s positions are an obvious reference to Our War Game! in particular, being Omegamon and Diablomon Tamers -- but they’re not seen directly fighting each other. In fact, Arata’s partner only ever reaches Diablomon when he’s at the highest point of his morality, so the reference is more ideological; Nokia represents the more idealistic and heroic side of Digimon, whereas Arata represents the more dirty-playing and cynical hard sci-fi side of it (remember that Diablomon himself was rather detached from the fantasy conflict of Adventure, being a mysterious entity that sprouted out of nowhere on the Internet and wreaked havoc). Moreover, Nokia’s usage of Omegamon embodies a theme that’s central to both Our War Game! and Cyber Sleuth itself as a whole -- while most people associate Omegamon with Taichi and Yamato these days, the original method of formation back in Our War Game! came from “bringing people from different places together”. Nokia managed to bring together a formidable army in a place where everyone else in the hacker world was trying to promote a dog-eat-dog philosophy, and the sense of cooperation is arguably making her stronger than anyone else.

(I should also point out that Nokia’s name is, obviously, a reference to the Finnish telephone communications company, and this has a lot of relevance to the game’s theme of connection, along with her phone Digivice...and, also, the method used to bring everyone’s powers together in Our War Game!’s spiritual successor, Diablomon Strikes Back. Feels a bit too on-the-nose here.)

In the second half of the game, when the world starts falling apart due to the Digital World portal opening, Nokia becomes one of most important people holding everything together as Arata goes off the deep end and Yuuko starts fixating on her own personal problems and revenge -- because she’s the one most in tune with treating Digimon as the living beings they are, she’s most active in advocating for them and helping them bond with humans, and and she’s the one making the chaos be a little less chaotic. The second half is basically the more fantasy-esque version of Digimon leaking into the sci-fi, with the sidequests progressively resembling your average Digimon anime monster-of-the-week episode, and holding that all together is Nokia, who becomes a vital figure in maintaining that fellowship by being in tune with the modern franchise’s philosophy.

Through all of this, Nokia ends up taking a role rather similar to a Digimon protagonist, which is highlighted very strongly in Cyber Sleuth chapter 18 when she ends up literally becoming the player character while the main protagonist is out of commission. During that time, Yuuko and Nokia learn the truth of what happened during the EDEN incident eight years prior -- and we also learn that the five children involved had an extremely conventional “first meeting in the Digital World” experience that could have been pulled right out of the first episode of a Digimon anime, with them having a lovely adventure meeting new creatures. And at the center of that “first contact” was none other than Nokia, Agumon, and Gabumon themselves:

Agumon: Um... who are you? Nokia: Ahem! I am Nokia! And just who are you? Agumon: Me? My name is Agumon! Gabumon: I... I'm Gabumon. Nokia: Agumon and Gabumon? Hee hee! What weird names! Gabumon: Hey, they're not weird! Agumon: You're the one with the weird name! Nokia: As if! My name's not weird! Hee hee!

Nokia, Agumon, and Gabumon’s meeting at the beginning of the game had been an (accidental) reenactment of their first meeting in the Digital World eight years prior -- and, in the flashback, Nokia invites them to go on an “adventure” with them. So in other words, Nokia getting involved in the hacker conflict at the beginning of the game was, unknown to all of them, her attempting to restore that beauty and idealism of the Digimon Adventure-esque philosophy and fun in a world where the Eaters had torn it away and EDEN had turned into a haven of cynicism and hacker battle royale.

In the end, the game’s conflict is only resolved by bringing everyone together; Arata has to be retrieved from the deep end, and Yuuko has to settle her deep-seated personal grievances. Everyone makes a promise to return together, in the sense of making things right and repairing the connections between them that had been cut in that incident. The final battle (momentarily) causes the playable protagonist to literally fall apart, and the one reaching out to them and sending her message to them at the end of the game is none other than Nokia herself -- again, in the absence of the game’s protagonist, Nokia is the one with the closest role, because in the face of the new world going forward, she was the one who contributed most to restoring its idealism.

Ultimately, all of this is especially because Cyber Sleuth works under one of the most terrifying imaginable premises for a fan of a kids’ franchise: “we made an entry for this, but for adults.” Many of us can testify that this kind of premise can go very well, or very badly -- the latter especially in the case of things that decide “taking the opportunity to do things that you can’t do on a Sunday morning kids’ timeslot” means “going out of your way to put edgy violence and sexy things and cynicism just because you can”, or, in other words, looking down condescendingly on its kids’ franchise roots with malice and deciding that something for adults means “more suffering” and not “issues that require more life experience to understand”. The reason the game ended up getting as much acclaim among longtime Digimon fans as it did was that despite being the franchise’s first venture into this territory, it did end up setting itself up as something that took that opportunity to do something new and unique that would have never made it into any of the prior entries (holy hell the doll quest) and yet never gave up on the idealism and themes of connection that make up the franchise at its core, and paid respect to everything that had contributed to all of that while it was at it.

And at the center of that is Shiramine Nokia, who is effectively the spirit of Digimon Adventure, condensed into a single character.

[meichenxi]

Hey, could I ask you how you do shadowing? Like the different ways you do it? You mentioned in your tag that shadowing is good and I'd love to hear how you do it! I do not attempt shadowing much so I don't really know what helps, etc. ToT (my studyblr is rigelmejo)

Hellooo! Thank you for the interesting question!

Tbh I think I do it fairly basically - I don’t use any particularly fancy software, but software like Language Learning with Netflix has certainly made it easier. There’s a whole video on how to get the most of it here: [on mobile, link didn't work - How to study Chinese with Netflix! by Chinese Zero To Hero] (I’d recommend checking out all of their videos actually, they’ve done a bunch of livestreams recently and they place a lot of emphasis on shadowing + the course they are trying to sell you is…actually phenomenally good)

(Also, I have to preface this by saying that I have been very lucky in terms of pronunciation: I learnt about 80% of my current vocabulary by ear without characters or pinyin. I have been in China for eight months in total, and while I didn’t speak Chinese for all of that, I was constantly soaking in info on natural sentence intonation. I still often don’t know officially what the tone of a vocabulary item is, especially if it changes tone like 教, 为 or 相, but I don’t get yelled at so I have definitely internalised a lot of those changes. I definitely would have more trouble with this if I hadn’t had that experience - my other areas are waaaay weaker because of this though- my reading SUCKS lmao and I can literally handwrite about ten characters)

Anyway. How I shadow:

1) Quite simply by playing the line, and repeating it with all the emotion it has!! I usually use Netflix or Viki for this. I try to do it as fast as possible, and if I can’t do the whole thing, I ‘chunk’ it: if I were doing the sentence 我们还不知道他会不会来, I would start from the end with 他会不会来, then 不知道他会不会来, and then the whole sentence. Notice that this isn’t breaking it down into words or even grammatical phrases, but intonational phrases: it would be perfectly sensible to just do 会不会来 without the 他 but realistically, since this is a question, it’s likely that a strong stress will be placed on the first 会, and you wouldn’t be able to replicate that without also included the more weakly stressed syllable before.

2) I locate (intentionally or subconsciously) the main locus of stress within the sentence, and I focus on that accordingly. Tones may become less extreme if they are not stressed, and may become more exaggerated if stressed. This is always a good exercise. I accompany this with physical actions - I throw my hands down, I sigh, I groan!

3) I put away the text, and don’t look at the tones or even my computer screen - more on this below.

4) Finally, when I think I’ve got it reasonably accurate, I’ll record them speaking the line into my phone with an appropriate pause for copying and play it back to myself at various points throughout the day.

5) I then go and find other words with the same tone contour to slot in, and copy it again. After that, I find words that are slightly different tonally and pop them in too.

6) I finally do fun things like hold a conversation with myself. This can be really simple phrases imbued with some kind of emotion - 这个女子到底是谁呀？为什么不认识我？应该是新手吧。You can do this either really informally, or very formally, or both - trying to speak in the latter way is very fun! So then it’d be idk something more like: 那位姑娘是何人，来自何处？This is fun because you can really slow down your speech and sound as elegant as you like!! (this will sound stilted if you do it for modern speech, but it’s a very fun exercise)

Choosing your media!!

1) Don’t use donghuas. Seriously. The voice actors usually speak at a ridiculous pace and not with the same range of ‘normal’ intonation

2) Your Chinese is definitely good enough to recognise when anyone is quoting poetry or speaking in a paricularly sexy literary way so, uh…don’t do that. That rules dramas like Nirvana in Fire OUT.

3) Modern dramas and reality TV shows CAN be great, but they can also be quite intimidatingly quick and almost too mushy at times. I’d recommend informal speech in guzhuang dramas more, because they have professional voice actors and extensive sound editing, meaning that although it might be fast and the vocabulary harder, it’s actually much more accessible and easier to copy. You don’t want to be stuck with the awfulness of 50% failed foreigner and 50% 12 year old boy who can’t enunciate properly!!

4) CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON WISELY. I try to find characters that speak in a dramatic, whiny or childish way. This is so important! There’s literally no use copying Lan Wangji unless you want to be able to have that particular cadence and tone of voice you get reciting poetry. Childish/whiny/dramatic characters on the other hand stress some words very strongly, and rush others together - this is great for hearing what actual real speech sounds like. Whininess wins. In The Untamed, characters like Wei Wuxian (not yllz!wwx but just…regular wwx), 一问三不知 Nie Huaisang, Jin Ling, and Jingyi are all great. Also Jiggy, who is just very extra constantly and speaks much slower as well, which really helps. In SHL characters like Gu Xiang are good.

5) CHOOSE YOUR VOICE WISELY! If you are really aiming to copy them 100% (which you should try at least sometimes), you want somebody with your pitch range to sound normal. I have a sort of party trick in Chinese that because I’ve spent so much time listening to women in guzhuang dramas I can change my voice and sound like a) a scheming concubine with honeyed words, or b) the voice of the Beijing metro. My teacher found it hysterically funny. But it’s not my natural voice, and if I speak like that for too long it hurts. The women usually are too high for me, and the big burly manly men too low - so I’d recommend finding a man with a higher voice, or an older woman (like some of the female characters in Nirvana in Fire). Again, sorry that this is mostly the Untamed (I’m just most familiar with it) but the voice actors for Wei Wuxian and some of the juniors (+jiggy) has a higher voice. Likewise Chengling in Word of Honour.

On intonation in general:

- The thing is that whilst shadowing is useful it requires prior ability in a whole bunch of other skills that you can train - it relies on your ability to accurately mimic pitch, emotion and other contrasts. Training this in ANY language, including your native one, will help your ability to do this in Chinese - so I’d recommend spending a fair amount of time practicing shadowing (or speaking just after somebody whilst listening to a string of text, like monolingual simultaneous interpreting) in your native language too. Any training copying accents or mimicking other people is going to similarly help, regardless of the language.

So, with that in mind, further tips:

1) Hum / try to copy the intonation without any words. What this does is force you to pay attention to what the intonation actually is, versus what you may think it should be.

2) Don’t look at the text! Do! Not! Look! At! The! Text! If you look at the characters or pinyin you’re telling yourself ‘ok this is a third tone here’ etc, but you want to override the part of your brain that has gotten into bad habits and is supremely self-confident in how you’re pronouncing the third tone, and actually just go straight back to mimicking.

3) Don’t be afraid to do it with vocabulary that is way beyond your level. Actually, I find this can sometimes be helpful, because you don’t have a prior idea about how a particular tone pair should be useful - and you don’t know which tone you should be producing.

4) Learn vocabulary by ear - listen to a vocab podcast or even make one yourself (I often do this; I record my daily Anki and listen back to it through headphones copying throughout the day - if you’re not confident in your pronunciation you can get Google Translate to do it). Similarly, pick unknown vocabulary out of a longer segment and remember it, trying to internalise the tones instead of figuring out which tone it is.

5) Find emotional sentences, and copy them with emotion. This is SO CRUCIAL!!! We remember things when we relate to them, and when we imbue them with emotion - and it also helps in hearing exactly how an angry second tone sounds, for instance.

6) When you’re copying, look up, and imagine you are having an actual conversation. Carry yourself with conviction and poise!! Really try to whine like wwx or slime like jgy. After a couple of turns copying them, try to turn off the audio and keep delivering it in the same manner.

7) Swap individual words out. Once you have a line properly figured out, swap a word or two that has a different tone pair, and focus on delivering it with the same pattern of stress.

8) Finally, practice doing this in your native language too!! It’s a skill that we don’t use often, and it can be trained. Some people are terrible at it at first go even in their native language, but you can work on it!

About intonation in general:

1) I think a lot of pronunciation problems with people sounding unnatural or stiff ultimately come down to a fundamental misunderstanding of what intonation looks like across different languages. In English we mark it by pitch: and we are so used to the rhetoric that Chinese has ‘tone’ and not ‘intonation’ that we try and focus on blindly copying every single word textbook perfect without listening to how it actually sounds.

2) Chinese does have intonation!!! Except that, unlike English, when you stress a word, the pitch doesn’t change, but the tone contour is exaggerated - basically the only time you will ever hear a full third tone is in isolated or very exaggerated speech. If you have a Chinese friend, get them to record a sentence like the English ‘I didn’t ask her to steal his rucksack’, and put stress on the different elements of it - I didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, and so on. Notice and copy how the tones change. When shadowing, you should always be paying attention to where the stress is in the sentence: when you speak by yourself, practicing saying a sentence neutrally, and then with stress on one component, the next, and so on. If it feels unnatural, it’s because you might not have practicised like this before - it’ll get better!

Hope that’s somewhat helpful / interesting!

- 梅晨曦

[kenzumekodma]

18+ only, minors do not interact

pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader, politician au

warnings: power imbalance, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, cum swallowing, finger sucking, teensiest bit of praise, one instance of canadian spelling

summary: if this was going to happen, you might as well commit to it. there were worse people to fuck on a monday morning than shouto todoroki.

wc: 2.5k

His father’s the highest ranking politician in the prefecture, you remind yourself. Just grit your teeth and bear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Shouto. No, he didn’t like you, was more like it. Ever since you took on the job as his assistant you’ve shouldered this feeling that absolutely seeped from him, this feeling that he was inherently superior to you and you were nothing. A means to an end.

At first his quiet indifference bothered you, but as the weeks wore into months, into nearly a year… really you just stopped giving a shit. Sure, you’d gone into this job bright eyed and bushy tailed, answering with a quick yes sir, no sir to any questions he asked you. Slowly, though, your energy dropped, your output matching Shouto’s.

Coming into your work anniversary, a time when you’d imagined you’d be kicking your feet up for a night and enjoying a lighter workload, if not a night off, you walked into the office to a more chaotic scene. You groaned into the plastic lid of your to-go coffee. The hot liquid was your only saving grace. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath through your nose, steeled yourself as you held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled through your mouth, lips closed into a small ‘o’. With renewed nerves, you open your eyes and walk into the elevator, making your way towards Mr. Todoroki’s office.

Large solid walnut doors met you a few short strides away from the elevator. Balancing your coffee, Mr. Todoroki’s tea, and your work bag precariously but with the confidence that comes with practice as you turned the brushed bronze handle. As expected, Mister Perfect was sat behind his desk. Larger than it really needs to be, you thought, like so many things tend to be when you’re living off the bank of Daddy’s Popularity.

“What’s all the fuss about downstairs?” you asked, setting Shouto’s tea down on the coaster he had waiting for it, just like he had every day for a year. He shrugged.

“Elections are coming up. My old man wants me to run for a seat on council.”

You nodded. “And that’s why I woke up to an email this morning from Endeavor offices saying Mr. Todoroki Sr. is scheduled to come by at 10:30 today with exactly zero context.” Shoto nodded once.

“There’s no point in stopping him. He has the knowledge and I need it, I guess.”

You sighed, resigned to planning a last minute visit for the man who’s effectively your boss’s boss.

“It’s too bad,” he started, pausing to take a sip of tea. Deadpan expression still resting on your face, you quirk a brow at him, a silent what? hanging in the air. “Too bad that my old man will have to see you like this. You’ve changed since he hired you for me,” Shoto said as he stood, tea placed flawlessly in the centre of its coaster. He stalked around the desk, getting ever closer to you. Instinctively, you went to place your coffee on the desk, but you caught yourself, putting your work bag on the floor, bending to pick up your planner from it. You missed Shouto’s eyes grazing down the back of your form, hesitating at your thighs, where their plushness was accentuated by the hem of your tight, light grey skirt digging in slightly. You slid your planner onto the luxury desk, using it as a makeshift coaster for your cup.

The corner of Shouto’s lip turned up almost imperceptibly. “You used to be so polite, y/n.” He took another step towards you and you froze in confusion.

“I…” you trailed off.

“You what?” he goaded, getting closer to you again. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the aforementioned not giving a shit, maybe it was the surprise stress of Enji Todoroki’s insistence on the election, but you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and speak your mind to your boss for the first time.

“I just, I know that you think of me as lesser, and it’s true. I am. I know that, you know that. You’re political royalty and I’m just trying to make rent. So what’s the point in trying to get you to respect me with pretty words?”

“Lesser, is that so?” he murmured. He was upon you now, slender hand reaching out to take your chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger. A mixture of confidence and careful carelessness swirled behind Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes. Bicoloured hair slipped from its place to frame his sculpted cheekbones as he looked down at you.

“I’m a means to your end, and likewise for you. If we’re going to use each other we should feel good too, right? Now, wouldn’t you say the best place for inferior little girls like you is on their knees?” His eyes flickered to your lips, to your eyes, to your lips again. The last three honeyed words dripped from his lips and straight to your panties making you clench around nothing. The span of four minutes and he’d already flipped everything you thought about him on its head.

In your doe-eyed stupor you hadn’t even noticed how fucking wet you’d gotten although it was undeniable when your thighs rubbed together as you shifted your weight back and forth.

“Well?” Shouto asked, voice quiet. You nodded, bringing his hand up and down with your face. He patted your cheek. “That’s what I thought. Down,” he commanded. Shame rose in you as you dropped to the floor, flush crawling up your neck making you feel as red as half of your boss’s hair.

You looked up at him for further instruction to see him unbuttoning the top two buttons of his expensive linen shirt. Instinctively you lifted your hands to unbuckle his designer belt, but he swatted them away.

“What makes you think you’re worthy of touching anything of mine? This costs more than your salary,” he sneered.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Sorry what?”

“Sorry, Mr. Todoroki,” you corrected yourself.

“Not quite. Try again,” he tutted. You felt the heat rise from your neck to your cheeks, causing you to turn your gaze downward.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled.

“I can’t hear you all the way down there. Speak up,” Shouto demanded.

“I, I’m sorry Sir,” you said, louder this time and with more confidence. If this was going to happen, you figured you might as well commit to it. There were worse people to fuck on a Monday morning than Shouto Todoroki.

“Better,” he said approvingly. He slipped his buckle and belt off with ease, unbuttoning his charcoal grey slacks. Your eyes followed his hands downwards and it finally hit you just how big of a dick print was practically staring you in the face. He pulled up the once tucked in shirt tails and bunched them up around his toned stomach. Agony, his pace freeing his cock was absolute agony. His length was impressive, on the longer side of anyone you’d been with before. And his girth. It was a lot like the man himself, surprisingly thick but beautiful. The vein running along the underside of his cock made your mouth water with anticipation.

He let it out of his hand and it rested heavily on your lips.

“Please, Sir…” you said, licking your lips just enough to tease him with the sensation of your tongue. Shouto bit back a groan but nodded his head. You gave his cock an exploratory lick up the underside. A low noise rumbled in his chest, which you took as encouragement to continue. Hesitantly, you lifted a hand up to his waist and dragged your nails down his abdomen lightly, causing him to weave his fingers through your hair and grip tightly. God forbid the political Prince Charming be anything but in charge.

He guided your head up an inch or so. Holding his length in his other hand, he tapped the flushed tip against your cherry lips and you comply, parting them without a thought in your head besides Shouto’s cock. You close your mouth around his head and suck lightly, savouring the ever so slightly salty taste of his precum against your tongue. Shouto guided your head back for a better view.

He’s been watching and waiting for months, wondering what your lips would look like wrapped around him with every sharp barb that rolled off your tongue. The reality of it was better than he’d imagined. The silky wetness of your mouth just fueled his lust further. What would your sweet pussy feel like around him? Would you let him in?

His facade faltered, and he bucked his hips into you. Your throat tightened around him and your eyes watered. Something in the way he treated you ignited a fierce competition within you. If his actions were a challenge, you took it and one upped him, taking as much of him as possible. Your nose nuzzled into the base of his cock, taking in the musky scent of his sex with every breath you tried to take. Bracing yourself with your hands on his chest, you swallowed around him. Shouto shudders and his fingers leave your scalp. He pets your hair gently, and for a split second as you looked up at him with curiosity, you saw genuine fondness written across his face. Whatever prompted it, he shoved it aside and gripped your wrists together in his larger hand, pinning them against him above your head.

His movement took you by surprise. Surprises normally caused dread to pool in your tummy. This particular surprise caused arousal to bubble inside instead, it caused you to rub your thighs together as best you could for just a tiny bit, any bit of delicious friction you could get. It wasn’t enough, and you let out a half moan, half whine sound that vibrated up Shouto’s cock.

“Pretty girl’s a little slut, huh? Likes being helpless? Keep going.” he sneered at you.

You nodded as best as you could without letting off of his dick, drool pooling at the sides of your mouth. God, the absolute debauchery of what this man would have you do for him, it made your thighs clench. Desperation evident in your actions, you moan around him, moving yourself as much as your tight little skirt would allow. Shouto shuddered and took your jaw in his fine, slender hand.

“Enough,” he hissed, pulling your mouth off of his cock. His breath came in shallow pants, the only tell that he was as affected as you were. The way you licked your lips as soon as they were unoccupied made him bite back a moan. You looked fucking delicious in that moment, a summer fruit ripe for the picking.

“Up,” he commanded. You tried your best to stand up with your balance off kilter. Really, Shouto ended up pulling you to your feet more than anything else. He turned you around, advanced on you until your ass was bumping against his desk, and then he took one step further, leaving you no choice but to shimmy up onto the surface.

“Is… is this okay?” you asked, and Shouto let out a chuckle.

“You’re just asking that now? I should be asking you instead,” he said. He leaned down and latched his lips onto your neck. “Well?” he murmured into your skin, fingers dancing at the hem of your skirt. “You wanna be my own little whore?”

“Yes… please, Sir,” you whimpered. That’s all he needed to hear to lift you up just enough to slide your skirt past the swell of your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. He probed a finger along your covered slit. He stops at the wet patch over your aching core.

“Excited, are we?” he teases, moving your panties to the side and circling his finger around your hole, stopping just shy of dipping inside. “Tell me who this belongs to.”

“‘s yours, Sir. ‘s all yours, I’m all yours, belong to you, please, wanna be full,” you whined.

“That’s right, this belongs to me. I’m gonna take what’s mine,” he said. You didn’t know whether he meant your sopping wet pussy or your whole self but at that point you were ready to give him anything he asked for just for him to touch you, to make you cum. You let out a choked moan when he slid his middle finger unceremoniously into your fluttering walls, no longer clenching around nothing. Even one finger was a stretch for you. Not like he cared to let you get too used to it, he was more occupied with the idea of getting you to come undone on his hand.

He added a second finger and began rubbing your clit with his thumb. The urgent moans of his name and Sir, please careening from your lips sounded like the sweetest sonata he would ever hear.

“Please what?” he asked.

“Please, wanna… need to… please lemme cum,” you begged, head pressed forward into his chest.

“Let me cum, what?” Shouto goaded. “Just because you’re being fucked dumb doesn’t mean you get to forgo your manners. Remember your lesson?” he tutted, curling his finger into your bundle of nerves.

“Please, let me cum, Sir,” you gasped out.

“Go on, then. Cum.”

Your already tight muscles contracted around his fingers desperately as he stroked your spongy walls to your release. You came with a broken yelp, earning a look of smug satisfaction from the man looming over you.

He scissored his fingers once more, just to hear you mewl from the overstimulation of your fucked out cunt, your eyes scrunched shut to keep yourself grounded. The feeling of his messy fingers tapping at your bottom lip had you opening your mouth obediently.

“Keep it open,” he ordered. You opened your eyes to see Shouto had led you back onto your knees in front of him. His free hand fisted his cock inches from your face. You opened your mouth wider and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck…” he groaned. Just a few more thrusts and he was painting the inside of your mouth and his fingers white with his cum.

“Close,” he said, and you close your mouth. “Clean it up.”

You sucked gently on his fingers, making sure to swirl your tongue around his knuckles and his nails, wanting nothing more than to please him, to be privy to that little bit of softness and praise you were sure he hid away for special occasions.

When his fingers were free of the mixture of your releases, he slid his fingers from your mouth and took your chin in his hand. He tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“Good girl,” he cooed. Heat rose to your cheeks at his praise, and he helped you to your feet again.

No sooner than you’d rearranged your clothing came a knock to the huge walnut doors, a deep voice booming from the other side.

“Shouto?”

[nagisa-shiota-worthy-shit]

Colours of Summer

Karmagisa Week 2021 day 7 prompt: colours wordcount: 2418

basically: a collection of short scenes occuring on one hot summer day with Karmagisa, based on colours and summer objects. (might be extended some time after Karmagisa week, on AO3)

---------------------------------------- --Pink Swimming Trunks--

“What. is. that?” Karma uttered. 

Nagisa sighed in response, turning a little red in the face, but hiding most of his embarrassment by avoiding eye contact. The object of embarrassment? the soft pink swimming trunks he was now wearing. Karma had never seen his boyfriend wearing them, and he didn’t think Nagisa ever would. Nagisa had a bad relationship with the colour pink. 

“T-they’re supposed to be white,” Nagisa explained, “My mom washed them but accidentally mixed some laundry and-” 

“You’re kidding me,” Karma started laughing, “What kind of cliched tv trope shit is this?” 

Nagisa didn’t respond to that, instead walked past his boyfriend to put on the white shirt he’d brought for himself. Karma did the same, not wishing to travel all the way to the beach shirtless, but he was still laughing as he did so. At least he tried to do it quietly. 

Eventually, he had enough of their silence. He turned to his boyfriend again, who was now putting food into their bag, and walked up to him. He threw his arms around him, hugging him from the back, and rested his chin on his head. The height difference made this a very simple gesture for him. Although, he was sure Nagisa wasn’t that big of a fan of the reminder that he was small. 

“Pink still looks good on you,” Karma said, as a form of apology. 

At first, Nagisa didn’t say anything. He just stood there accepting the embrace. Eventually there was a sigh, a shuffling of shoulders, and a soft humm. Karma knew that pretty much meant forgiveness. Still, he kept the other boy in his embrace. Well, with Karma’s superior power it was also a bit like a form of restraining the smaller boy. 

“Come on,” Karma finally said, “We have a hot summer’s day to waste.” 

--Blue Water--

Nagisa had been standing on the edge of the water for a while now, hesitating going in. Every once in a while, he stuck his leg out when the high tide came close enough to him, carefully trying out the water’s temperature. Every single time, he shrunk together slightly, and moved back a few small steps. Karma was getting a little sick of waiting. 

“Can you come in already?” He complained, “the water is really nice once you actually get used to it.” 

A difficult look appeared on Nagisa’s face. It appeared he was considering his options. Really, there wasn’t much to consider. They’d traveled all this way to have a fun beach day, at some point Nagisa would have to get in the water. Stalling it would only make it worse. For someone who complained so much about the hot weather, Nagisa sure was being petty about a little cold water. He should just get in and feel refreshed. 

Karma looked over his shoulder, taking in the view of the sea stretching all the way to the horizon. The blue sea was shimmering, reflecting the sun’s light, and shining in Karma’s eyes. When he turned around there was no sun irritatingly blinding him. Instead, he saw Nagisa once again jumping away from the water. 

“If you don’t get in now, I’m going to drag you in here myself,” Karma threatened. 

Nagisa pursed his lips, looked down at the water, and took a moment to consider the threat. Of course, Karma knew he was serious, but he figured Nagisa knew it too. This was the kind of action Karma was very prone to: annoying and physical. Still, Nagisa was one of the few people capable of escaping these situations. Basically, he could ‘cute’ his way out of it. Karma was always a little weak to his boyfriend’s charms. So, Nagisa just stood there. He didn’t make any move indicating he was going to get in the water. 

Karma looked him in the eye, trying to send him a warning glare. Nagisa, in response, just put a slight smile on his face. There was no denying for Karma that Nagisa looked pretty and soft right there, however, there was also no denying Nagisa just had to get in the damn water. 

“Do I need to count down?” Karma asked, as if he was talking to a toddler. 

Nagisa rolled his eyes. “I’m not eight.” 

For a second, Karma considered his next comment. He decided to not go for the comeback, trying to somewhat stay on his boyfriend’s good side. Then again, if he did really drag Nagisa into the water, that would be ruined anyways. To be fair, that would be laughed off. A comment about Nagisa perhaps looking like an eight year old was something Nagisa was a little more sensitive about. 

“3” Karma started counting. 

Nagisa squinted for a second, but then crossed his arms, standing by his decision to annoy Karma, apparently. That wasn’t going to stop Karma just yet. 

“2” 

Nagisa looked away for less than a second, before looking back at Karma. Most likely, he was considering whether Karma was being serious. 

“1” 

Nagisa still stood there. It appeared he was not getting into the water of his own accord. 

“zero, okay here we go.” 

Karma moved forwards, quickly running towards his boyfriend with water splashing at his side. Nagisa barely had any time to react, making an attempt to turn around and run away, but he was just a little too slow to escape Karma. Karma held his arms open wide and embraced his boyfriend, entangling his arms in there as well, but instead of making it some kind of hug, just picked him up. 

At first Nagisa just yelped, confused about what had just happened. Then, he started kicking, trying to wiggle himself free from his boyfriend’s grip. There were some noises of complaint, but Karma ignored those. The grip he had was tight and just a tad too powerful for Nagisa to escape. 

He walked back into the water until it came up to his knees. With the struggling Nagisa still in his grip, he took a ready stance. His lips were curled into a mischievous smirk. He was excited for this part. 

All of a sudden, he dropped Nagisa. Well.. dropped… It was more like he threw the other boy into the water. Nagisa yelled and, with a big splash, landed in the water. After struggling for just a short moment, he sat up, shoulders and up above the water. The look on his face spoke of dissatisfaction. 

Karma, on the other hand, just laughed. 

“And now you’re in!” He announced. 

Before he knew it, Nagisa had gotten up. With inhuman speed, he moved around Karma, hooking his leg around his, and used his hands to push him over. Karma was being tackled. He made an attempt to save himself but, sadly, Nagisa’s tackle was pretty waterproof. Karma, on the other hand, wasn’t waterproof, and landed in the water with a splash. 

When he came up again, he had a challenging smile on his face. One look at Nagisa confirmed he was feeling the same. His boyfriend looked proud, but not entirely done with their insignificant battle. It also, to Karma at least, looked a little hot. 

“That's how we’re going to play this, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Depends,” Nagisa shrugged, “Are you ready to fight a battle you can’t win.” 

There was no malicious intent in either of their words. Both of them had meant it in a playful manner, and both thrived on the friendly competition between the two of them. So, yes, Karma was more than intrigued by Nagisa’s sudden cockiness. He had to make sure he got rid of that arrogant smile on Nagisa’s face. 

“Game on.” 

--Red Burnt Skin--

When they’d gotten back to Karma’s place late in the afternoon, nothing but complaints left Karma’s mouth. His skin was burning red, slight patches of white skin visible on places that had been covered during the day. The contrast was great, and so was the pain. 

“My skin is going to burn off,” Karma grumbled. 

“No it’s not,” Nagisa spoke matter of factly, “and I feel like this is the perfect time for an ‘I told you so.’” 

Karma just grumbled, really not up for that discussion. As he fell down on his couch, his skin rubbed slightly against a pillow with a more rough fabric, and he felt himself cringe all throughout. He pouted, trying to gain pity attention from his boyfriend. 

That attention didn’t appear to be happening. Nagisa was just unpacking some empty food containers from their bag, focused as he stacked them up in an attempt to bring all of them to the kitchen in one go. From the look on his face, one would say he wasn’t too bothered about his boyfriend’s pain. Karma, being said pained boyfriend, wasn’t a fan of that. 

“Nagisa~” His voice came out in a singsong manner, “Don’t be mean, I’m suffering.” 

When Nagisa turned around to look at him, the look in his eyes spoke of book volumes. On a surface level, he looked unimpressed, eyebrows raised as he looked down at Karma laid down on the couch. In his eyes was also a hint of disappointment. Karma had grown rather familiar with that particular look, so he was one of the few people who could read past the bigger emotions Nagisa portrayed on his face. Yes, he knew Nagisa very well, and he knew Nagisa thought that Karma was overreacting. 

“I got a little burnt too,” Nagisa argued. 

“You didn’t get sunburned,” Karma complained, “You got sun kissed.” 

Karma couldn’t help but be a little grumpy about it all. Although there was some truth to Nagisa’s words, a little sunscreen like his boyfriend had used would have been wise, it still felt unfair how easily Karma burnt in the sun compared to Nagisa. Even without the sunscreen, Nagisa barely tanned. Meanwhile Karma had to live like a lobster. 

“I have some aloe vera,” Nagisa offered with an annoyingly caring tone, “Do you want me to put some on your shoulders?” 

“... yes please.” 

--Orange Sunset--

Nagisa poked Karma’s bright red arm, earning a groaned response from him. He was still a little grumpy over the whole sunburn ordeal, but at the very least he had now somewhat cooled down due to the aloe vera Nagisa had been so gracious to share with him. So, the complaining had stopped, and Nagisa suggested going on a walk to end their long day. To Karma, ending a long day with another physical activity was a little weird, considering it just made the day longer, but Nagisa seemed really eager to go outside again, so he opted to not complain about it. 

It was a rather enjoyable walk. Nagisa talked throughout most of it, Karma only interjecting a few times with a funny side comment or fact Nagisa wasn’t aware of yet, and that was just fine. Karma liked hearing Nagisa’s rambling. The enthusiasm in Nagisa’s voice as he described a particularly spectacular scene in an action movie he’d recently seen was cute. Why would Karma ever complain about seeing Nagisa happy? 

“Oh woah,” Nagisa suddenly interrupted himself mid-story, “The sky looks so cool right now.” 

The sky they were looking at was in fact very pretty, Karma had to agree. Above them, an orange colour had started to spread out, becoming a deeper version of its own colour as their eyes were directed towards the horizon. The sun, another shade of orange, was about halfway down by now, yet still illuminated the world very well. Just like the rest of the day, there were no clouds to interrupt the bright colours of the sky. 

When Karma looked back at Nagisa, he noted that the orange lighting of the sunset was more than a little flattering on the boy. His skin was touched by the light, changing its tone and making him appear like he was gold. If Karma didn’t know better, he would say Nagisa looked like a god. 

Except, he knew better, and Nagisa would respond awkwardly to that statement. He wouldn’t know what to say and just stammer his way through. On any other occasion, Karma would have made the comment, considering he enjoyed teasing his boyfriend. At that moment, however, he didn’t feel like ruining the moment. 

“It’s pretty,” was all Karma said. 

Nagisa seemed a little taken back by the comment. “That’s all? Just pretty?” 

“Well, it is.”

“Not even a ‘like you’ comment?” 

“Are we fishing for compliments now, Nagisa?” 

Nagisa turned red, although his cheeks had already been the crimson colour because of the day’s worth of sun. He looked away from Karma, a slight pout on his face and a loss for words. It was a common, yet still amusing, sight. So, Karma just laughed at him. That was his usual response. 

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Nagisa defended himself, “I-I meant it like-” 

Karma just held up his hand, interrupting the other boy’s explanation. He didn’t need a stuttering explanation of something Karma fully understood. He’d been joking, obviously. There had been so many occasions where Karma had made the exact joke Nagisa had been referring to, so he couldn’t exactly blame Nagisa for almost expecting it. It had been the perfect set up, actually. 

Instead, he turned to look at the sunset again, admiring its beauty and the moment it was creating for him. As cheesy as it all was, he really did feel the need to share that moment with Nagisa. Sunsets were, perhaps, a little overdone as a romantic setting, however, it still worked so well. Why fix what wasn’t broken? Why not use this moment for his own cheesy gains? 

Nagisa seemed to share that sentiment, because the moment Karma held his hand closer to his boyfriend, he immediately grabbed hold of it. They swung their entangled hands about for a bit in silence, watching the sun slowly disappear down into something unknown. Behind them, the sky had already started turning a darker shade of blue, but that didn’t matter to them. The approaching darkness wasn’t the thing they were focused on in that moment. 

With the last rays of sunshine still hitting their face, Karma turned to Nagisa, pulling his boyfriend closer to him. One hand went to hold Nagisa’s cheek as he moved forwards and connected their lips. Their kiss went on until the sun was completely down, darkness slowly falling over the world, and the summer’s day had finally ended. 

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29

_________________________

Pt 29 - Sir Reginald and the Kids of the Round Table

You watched as Five disappeared and Luther walked out of the building with Diego trailing behind. You continued to face towards the downstairs area as you mumbled,

"Great."

From behind you, you can hear Allison question curiously,

"Number Zero, huh?" Allison

You turn around to look at her, annoyance written all over your face. You didn't want to deal with the conversation like this, let alone at all.

"It wasn't my choice. You think I wanted to be reduced to a number? I didn't care in the slightest that zero came before one." You replied, "I'm a person with a name, not an experiment and I made sure he followed that."

"So you are dear old daddy's favorite. Y'know I always kind of figured so. Never understood why though since you're the exact opposite of what he wanted his children to be." Klaus says with a drunken laugh

"Hell if I know. Our relationship has always been...complex." You state as you cross your arms over your chest

You couldn't quite grasp if they were just curious about the revelation or if they were actually upset by finding out their dad had called you number zero. Even if Luther was done with his dad, he still seemed to care a lot about it and unfortunately, they all still had their issues with their father so you had no clue how they might feel. You hoped it was just curiosity because you had never wanted to be zero and you really couldn't think of a circumstance in which you would accept such a name. It would have to be the only option left to agree to such a thing but Five and you all were going to stop the apocalypse so it wouldn't be a worry. You stand around awkwardly as a silence looms in the air over those of you who were still in the apartment. Wondering if and when the rest of them would come back, you all waited for a bit. After a few moments though Klaus broke the silence and said,

"This had been nice but you know, I could really go for some tacos right now. Allison?"

"Tacos? Shouldn't we wait?" Allison questioned

"You know those guys. I mean, it could take forever for them to bro it out. Vanya, tacos?" Klaus replies

"Is there any way that tacos are gonna cause the end of the world?" Vanya asks

"I mean, there's only one way to find out, right?" Klaus remarks

"Sure is." Allison chimes

"Let's go!" Klaus exclaims

"Where are you guys going? We need to figure out how to stop the...apocalypse" You tried to exclaim but it was no use

You stood at the top of the balcony as you watched them leave. You were starting to understand how Five felt dealing with his siblings. From behind you, you hear a voice say,

"I've missed you all...so much."

Ben.

"If it means anything, I missed you too." You state as you turn back around looking in Ben's direction

He turns his head to face you and replies,

"It does."

He looked at you and you cocked your head to the side slightly, intrigued at the sight before you. You realized what had felt off about him earlier. You hadn't quite noticed it because when he sat on the TV stand he was so far away but with him up close you realized, you could see him. Clearly. Before when you saw him he was more so just a giant blob of moving particles. Sometimes you could make out a head or arms but it was like static on a TV, no picture was clearly there. But now everything was so defined. It was as if the static had cleared and now you could see him in high definition. You could see his hair, his face, actual appendages like hands and fingers, and...ghost clothes? The point was he looked more like a person. He was still just a bunch of disturbed molecules but now he looked real. All that visualization practice with Charlie finally paid off. Slowly, you approached the seat he was sitting in and leaned down so you were face to face with him. Ben looked back at you confused. You were so close and he didn't know what was going on.

"Are you okay?" Ben asks concerned

You pull back and stand up straight.

"Stand up, Ben." You command

"What?" Ben questions

"Stand up."

Ben hesitantly stands up. You had never been so demanding with him before and he was highly confused about why you were so adamant about him stand up. He looks at you silently as you tell him,

"Lift your arms up, like this." You demonstrate to Ben

"T-pose!" Charlie exclaims

"Correct, but not in this instance." You say turning your attention to Charlie before turning back to Ben "Just trust me."

Ben looked at you and although he was confused there was a genuine look in your eyes. Unlike his siblings, you were trustworthy, you had never done him wrong. Slowly, Ben raised his arms like you had instructed before he got his arms up fully you wrapped your arms around his torso. You were hugging him. It wasn't a perfect hug because he wasn't solid, and if you held him too tight your arms would go through him, but you could feel the barrier of molecules where his back was and tried to balance your arms there. It took a second for Ben to register what was going on but once he did he carefully wrapped his arms back around you. This was the first hug he had gotten in years. He couldn't remember the last time someone held him but at this moment he forgot that he was a ghost and for the first time in years he felt like a person. Ben leaned more into the hug as he took in every second of it. He had wanted this for so long. He tried to wrap his arms around you tighter to bring you, the only other person who could see him, closer. But as he did so his arms went through you and he remembered a glaring fact.

He was still dead.

Although he was disappointed by the reality of his existence and the façade of normalcy he felt a moment ago, he held on anyway. With the way things were going he didn't know if he'd get this ever again. After a bit, you pulled away and shot him a smile. You wondered if Klaus was kind to his brother with no real autonomy but you also hoped that Ben was kind to his evidently struggling sibling. You looked around the place and saw that no one had returned as of yet.

"Hmm. Five would've been back by now." You comment

"Unless he ran off to do something," Charlie retorts

"Good point. I'm going to go take a look around outside real quick." You state before turning to Charlie "Charlie talk to Ben while I'm gone."

"Where is he? I can't see him like you can." Charlie asks

You use your arms to gesture to the space before you where Ben was standing. Charlie approaches albeit confused but tries his best to stand in front of him. With that, you start to walk away to head outside to look for Five but as you do Charlie calls out,

"Wait! He can't reply. What do I talk about?"

"I don't know, Russian Literature?" You shoot back

"That's a big no-no in my house. Y'know with my dad working for the government and all."

"Right. 1960s anti-Russian sentiment. Uh, just talk about something he can relate to then." You reply as you walk away

Charlie turns to Ben and the last thing you can hear is him asking,

"Do you want to hear about my shitty dad?"

With that, you walk out to try and find Five but he would be nowhere to be found. After seeing Lila on the roof he immediately started to chase after her. One, because he absolutely despised her and wanted her dead but also because he didn't want her anywhere near you or his family. If he played along with her little chase game he could get her further from you and his siblings. Five follows close behind as Lila continues to run, leading him away from the main part of town towards the industrial sector. Five keeps his distance as he follows her to what looks like an abandoned paint warehouse. He hides behind a wall as he sees her grab a small plank of wood and smash open the window of a door, letting herself into the building. Cautiously, he trails behind her. Looking into the building he makes sure the coast is clear before spatial jumping behind Lila. Lila turns on her heel to look at Five. He shoves his hands into his pockets and with a sarcastic smirk on his face he questions,

"What's your game, crazy lady?"

"Who cares? You said if you saw me again, you'd kill me." Lila comments

"Oh, I remember." Five states

"Well, come on, big talker. Let's get this done." Lila taunts

"All right." Five replies

Spatial jumping Five attempts to attack her from behind but somehow Lila anticipates his movement and roundhouse kicks him in the jaw knocking him backward. Five grabs his jaw and attempts to get up while Lila runs away. Five chases her down a corridor of the abandoned warehouse, spatial jumping in front of her stopping her in her tracks. He then rushes her, jumping into the air to kick her but she leans back and dodges his attack. Landing on his feet Five immediately spins backward to kick her and lands a hit on her jaw. The two of them go blow of blow landing some hits on each other and missing others. Taking a few steps back Lila jumps over a large piece of concrete and Five follows. Looking towards where she should be Five finds nothing. He stops in his tracks but then hears,

"I'm waiting."

Five looks over to where the voice came from and there across the room stood Lila. He looked at her confused. How did she get over there so quickly? That didn't matter. Five jumped over to where she would be but once again she was nowhere to be found.

"Fed up yet, Five?" Lila mocks

Five turned to where the voice came from and there she was standing across the room again. Five stopped for longer and stared in her direction. The confusion and frustration of this situation built up inside of him. Looking around Five finds a pipe on the ground. Picking it up he spatial jumps over to where Lila was standing but instead of hitting her, he hits an electrical box. Turning around he sees her behind him and as she lifts one of her legs up to kick him he sweeps the other one out from under her making her fall to her back on the ground. Five then step on her neck keeping her in place. Through a choked voice Lila comments,

"You're better than I thought."

"And you are entirely average." Five belittles before calling "You can come out now."

Five can hear the familiar clacking of heels on the floor behind him. The Handler.

"Well done. You figured it out." The Handler says

"Well, it wasn't very hard. She fights like every one of you Commission drones." Five retorts, his focus still on keeping Lila down

"Hmm. No matter, here we are. Together again. I've gotta ask...did you miss me, you little shit?" The Handler questions

Five looks at her. His expression filled with subdued anger. There's a silence in the room except for the distorted laughter of Lila from the floor.

"You've got a good nose." The Handler comments

"You know, planting her in a psych ward, taking advantage of my simpleton brother, that was smart." Five replies sarcastically as he presses his foot down harder on Lila's throat causing her to struggle

"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." The Handler states as she looks down at Lila

Five's head whips towards the Handler.

"She's your..." Five starts to question

"Daughter. Yes. And she's my only one, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't crush her windpipe." The Handler answers

Lila continues to struggle but Five reluctantly lifts his foot off her throat letting her go free. She gasps for air as she stands up and makes her way to her mother's side. She then slowly approaches Five getting in his face and states,

"I am so going to enjoy killing you someday."

"Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?" The Handler requests

"Yes, the grown-ups need to talk." Five adds with a cocky smile

Lila looks to her mother in hopes that she changes her mind but to no avail. Lila rolls her eyes and walks away to the other side of the room annoyed, angrily flipping a piece of metal so that it clatters to the ground. When Lila is far enough away Five takes a step closer to the Handler and in a low voice asks,

"What is it you want?"

"Do you like jazz, Five?" The Handler asks back

"I'd rather lick a cheese grater." Five retorts

"Aww. Jazz is like a beautiful woman. Complex, emotional, hard to please. She doesn't just give it to you...she makes you work for it." The Handler explains as she walks around the room

Five places his hands in his pockets and turns on his heel to face her. Keeping his distance he replies,

"I have no experience with the type of woman you're talking about so I'm really hoping that you're going somewhere with this analogy."

The Handler walks back over to him and with a smile adds,

"Under my leadership, the Commission would sound more like...jazz."

"And what about the board of directors?" Five questions critically getting up in her face

"Well, that's where you come in." The Handler replies tapping his nose with her pointer finger

Five takes a step back away from her and cocks his head to the side. In a firm tone, he states,

"Nope. No, it isn't."

The Handler walks around Five to the space behind him and elaborates,

"In exchange for the assassination of the board, I'm willing to get you, your family, and that girlfriend you love so dearly out of this timeline and back to 2019 where you belong."

"And what about World War III that's due to kick off in just a few days?" Five inquires turning to look at her

"Once you, your girlfriend, and your siblings are gone, that goes away."

"And the apocalypse when we get back to 2019?"

"That too."

Five leans in looking at her critically. The cynic in him was screaming about the nonchalant nature of her statements. This was a woman who would do anything for power so Five knew there was some type of plan she had in her head. In a lowered voice Five angrily criticizes,

"I distinctly remember you telling me that that apocalypse had to happen, that it was supposed to happen."

The Handler walks around Five once more so she is directly behind him. As she walks she explains,

"Back then I was toeing the company line, but once I'm in charge..."

The Handler then presses herself up against Five's back leans in closer to his ear. Five didn't like how close she was and tensed up as he felt her against him.

We can riff." The Handler whispered in his ear

Five took a step forward putting a small amount of distance between the two as he stated,

"Jazz."

"Exactly." The Handler replies as she walks in front of him again

Five turns and walks away from her scratching the back of his neck. Taking a breath he turns back around to face her, a sizable distance now between them. Looking at the Handler, Five questions,

"What about the board of directors, hmm? I mean, nobody knows who they are."

"Correct. But once every fiscal quarter, they get together for a board meeting."

"Where?" Five asks looking at her curiously

"The question is when. They meet somewhere in the timeline but never in the same place twice. The exact location and date of these board meetings is the most closely-guarded secret in the Commission."

Five looks around, an unsurprised smirk appearing across his face. He turns away for a second as he comments,

"But you know where it's gonna be, don't you?"

"Would I be any good at what I do if I didn't? Listen Five, don't think about it as killing the board for me, think about it as getting to live out the rest of your newfound life with (Y/N)."

With the sound of your name leaving her mouth and hitting his ears he quickly turns on his heel to face her. A wave of adrenaline and anger coursed through his veins as he flashed closer to her. He stared her down with malicious intent as he demanded,

"How do you know her name."

"Oh calm down Five. I work for the commission how could I not? Truly, your love story is one for the ages, don't you think?" The Handler remarks in a cheery yet malevolent tone

She walks towards him that facade of kindness and charity not fooling him in the slightest. As she walks around him she details in that false-kind tone,

"Two best friends fall in love at a young age before being separated for years on end. You witness her death and swear to go back and prevent it with only some book and a necklace to remember her by. How sweet."

As she comes back to stand directly in front of him she comments,

"I bet you're wearing that necklace right now, aren't you?"

Indeed he was. Hiding under the shirt his academy uniform was the locket you had given him all those years ago. Unconsciously, when she mentioned it he brought his hand up to cover where it rested as if trying to protect it from her. Trying to protect you from her. Five lets out an angered huff before commanding firmly,

"You leave her out of this. Whatever game you're trying to play is between you and me."

"Fine. But remember, doomsday's right around the corner, and the way things are going, I'm your only option to save her."

Five takes a step towards her and looks her dead in the eyes.

"Not yet you aren't."

And without another word, he flashes away. He was going to get you and his family out of here and he was going to do it without her help.

You on the other hand had gone outside to look for him but he was nowhere to be found.  As you turned and walked back towards Elliott's place you mumbled to yourself,

"Hopefully it doesn't take him four years to get back."

Teleporting yourself inside the building you can hear Charlie say,

"And then when I was ten my mom died and my dad hired a nanny to take care of me instead of you know doing it himself. Because he sucks."

"I wish you could hear me because you are so right!" You can hear Ben yell back

You smirk a little at two of your friends hanging out and bonding over shitty dads. You still couldn't relate but it was funny to hear them so passionate about it. Transporting yourself upstairs you tell the two of them,

"Can't find him."

"Well, the good news is he's like a boomerang. He always comes back." Charlie replies cheerfully before adding "I don't blame him though. That family meeting was shit."

"He has a point. It was so bad." Ben comments

You plop down on the couch across from the two of them and ask aloud,

"When was the last time we actually had a good family gathering?"

"Our 13th birthday party," Ben answers just a little too fast

He wasn't wrong though. Granted, you had never been to a family gathering again until Reginald's funeral but from that experience, you were sure that there were probably plenty of awful gatherings before as well.

"I guess it was better than it could've gone though. It was mainly a lot of arguing and only one murder attempt this time." You comment

"You base how well a gathering goes on how many attempted murders there are?" Charlie questions

"Partially," you answer

"I say this with the utmost respect but y'all are fucked up." Charlie states

"Yeah. I know." You reply nodding your head

You kick your feet up on the coffee table trying to find some type of relaxation after all of the mess that had occurred. It had felt like a week's worth of activities was shoved into less than 24 hours. If only you could put a stop to this whole apocalypse mess. You lean back more on the couch and as you do so Ben asks,

"So you've been living with my dad in this time?"

"Yup. I didn't choose it though, it was more of just a domino effect of events. Dropped in the alley, found by mom, who was an actual person in the '60s surprisingly, we met your dad, human mom adopted me, human mom started dating your dad, and then we just permanently moved in with him." You explain "But it's alright, I typically just hang out with Charlie and we avoid people most of the time so it's been fine. Right, Charlie?"

"It's decent," Charlie says with a shit-eating grin

Ben gets a laugh from Charlie's impersonal response and you roll your eyes.

"Okay, wow." you respond sarcastically before turning to Ben and asking "What have you been up to Ben?"

"Reluctantly following Klaus and his cult around for the past 3 years because I had nowhere else to go."

"You know I'm both surprised and not surprised that Klaus started a cult." You respond

"From what you told me it seems pretty on-brand for him (Y/N)," Charlie says

"Well, he rolled the highest charisma stat of the family." You responded

"Huh?" Ben questions

"Don't worry about it. It's not important. Just an old D&D reference that my friends would get." You reply to him, your voice dropping off

You missed your friends. You missed a lot of things from 2019 but the experiences and memories with them are what you missed most of all. You loved being with Charlie and you wouldn't trade his friendship for anything but it was the little things like weekly D&D or going out and wrecking criminals or Wii Just Dance competitions that you wished you had back. You had to get out of this timeline at some point so you hoped you'd see them again.

"So where have you been staying now since you've been back in Dallas, Ben?" Charlie questions somehow forgetting he can't hear the response

"The cult has a sprawling estate in the more affluential part of Dallas. It's been pretty abandoned but we're all back now." Ben answers also forgetting that Charlie can't hear him

Charlie and Ben stare at each other in silence waiting for someone to say something. You snap out of your thoughts and burst out laughing realize what was going on. It was even funnier because while you could see Ben looking back you knew anyone else viewing this would see Charlie just staring off in the distance. Through your laughs, you chime in,

"Charlie, you can't hear him, remember?"

"Oh right," Charlie replies with a small chuckle

"Anyway, he's living in the abandoned estate near our houses. I guess it's not so abandoned anymore though since the whole cult is back."

"Oh, so that's whose cult lived by us. Small world I guess." Charlie says

"It must be interesting living with a cult." You remark

"It's a mess," Ben replies

"A mess? It can't be that bad can it?" You question

"You should stop by and visit tomorrow. See it for yourself." Ben suggests

"Well, we'll have to see where the day goes tomorrow given the...everything." You explain gesturing vaguely

You were about to say more when you suddenly felt a quick flash of disturbance. It was a familiar feeling and knew exactly what it correlated to. Turning your attention towards the downstairs portion of the building you called out,

"Five, is that you?"

After an unfortunate encounter with the Handler, Five was in a poor mood, to say the least. But there was just something about the sound of you calling his name that made him feel a bit better. A small smile came to his face and he spatial jumped once more up to the top part of Elliott's building. He saw you sitting on the couch and asked,

"How did you know I was back?"

"I can feel the disturbance of your spatial jumps. Feels like the back of my neck got flicked."

"Ah, I see." He replies

He then walks over to the couch you were on and sits right down next to you. Wrapping one arm around your shoulders he pulls you closer and places a soft kiss on your temple making you blush.

"Where did you go, Five?" Charlie questions

"Unfortunately, I had a run-in with Diego's crazy girlfriend and found out her mom is my former boss." Five explains

"So she wasn't just some random girl. She was a plant." You comment

"Yes. She was trying to get to me the whole time." Five adds

"Of course Diego would be the type to fall for a plant," Ben said sarcastically

You rolled your eyes but he had a point. You loved your brother dearly and in many cases, he was very tactile and smart but when it came to women and his emotions he had some room for improvement. As you all sat there you could hear the phone ring from the other room. Charlie promptly gets up and goes to answer it.

"Hello? Oh hi. Yes, I can put her on the phone." Charlie says before calling a bit louder "(Y/N) it's for you."

You were curious as to who could be calling you so you got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen with Five following along behind you. Taking the phone from Charlie you place it to your ear and say,

"Hello?"

"Oh, (Y/N) sweetie it's so good to hear your voice! Charlie had called last night but said that you had gone to bed already. I was so worried about you. Are you doing alright?" Your mom asked

"Yes mom, I'm doing alright," you responded

"Oh thank goodness. Listen, Charlie's dad said it's safe for the two of you to come back home." Your mom added

"Oh, okay. I'll let him know. We'll be back soon." You reply

"Okay, sweetie! I love you!"

"Love you too Mom."

You hang up the phone and turn around to look at the group of people behind you. Focusing your attention on Charlie you tell him,

"Your dad said it's safe for us to go back home."

"Oh." Charlie says "That's unfortunate."

"Very." You reply with a sigh

Everything was moving so fast. You had just gotten your boyfriend and you barely got to spend any time with him. Sure you two had a few sweet moments together but with the looming threat of the apocalypse again you didn't know how many more you'd get and when. Your poor mother though. She probably stayed up all night worried about you. You didn't want to prolong that worry because it wasn't something she deserved. You turn your attention to Five and place a hand on his cheek.

"I swear we never get enough time together," you say as you look into his eyes

Five wrap his arms lightly around your waist and looks at you with love in his eyes.

"No time is ever enough time with you, ma chérie."

"Perhaps you're right," you comment

"I know I am." He jokes

You roll your eyes at him. Even in the most chaotic of times he always managed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Well, I better head out then." You state

Five leans down and places a kiss on the top of your head, holding you closer in the process. Oh, how you loved this boy. Tilting your head up you placed a peck to his cheek before slowly leaving his embrace. Gently, you pull your hand back from his cheek and see how he leans into your touch. You smile at him,

"I'll see you soon my love."

"As soon as can be." He replies

You and Charlie then started to make your way out of the building with Five following the two of you until you reached the door. You looked back at him one more time before finally exiting and making your way to Charlie's car. The two of you get in the car and Charlie drives the way back to your house. When you arrive, you both exit the car and head inside. You had barely stepped through the door when your mom threw her arms around you pulling you into a tight hug in the same manner as when you came home after your car being shot up only a few days before. Your poor mother having to deal with so much stress about your safety in only a few days' time. You wouldn't wish this on anyone.

"I'm so glad you're okay, sweetie." Your mom exclaims

"Me too, mom." You reply

From the corner of your eye, you can see Reginald approaching you all. You let go of your mother and turn to face him along with Charlie and your mom.

"I see that you managed to bring her back safely," Reginald says to Charlie

"Yes. Not a scratch on her, sir." Charlie states

"Very well. It's pleasant to have you back at the manor (Y/N)." Reginald states

"Thank you." You reply flatly

You all stood there for a second but you didn't want to be there much longer. Trying to make a quick getaway you start to walk towards the stairs but look back at the others saying,

"I think I'm going to change out of this gala dress and into something more comfortable so I can relax after such a day of tension. How about you go home and do the same Charlie and then we can all have dinner together."

"Sure, that sounds like a good idea. I'll be back." He says before leaving the manor and heading to his car

You continue to walk while looking towards your mom and Reginald and accidentally bump into Marie causing her to drop a piece of paper on the ground. Bending over you pick up the paper as she profusely apologizes to you. Quickly, you skim over the paper and see what it reads.

From the Office of Sir Reginald Hargreeves

To My Pursuers:

I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, at half-past seven o'clock.

1624 Magnolia Street Dallas, Texas

You knew that location and you had a strong hunch of who those pursuers that were being addressed were. Looks like you knew what you were doing at 7:30 pm tomorrow. You hand the letter back to Marie and accept her apologies saying that you were not paying attention to where you were going before heading upstairs to your room. The rest of the night went on without a hitch and as usual, Charlie slept over for the night. The two of you stayed up late as you discussed the events that had occurred in prior days and how the dots were starting to connect together. You also detailed the letter you had read and your plans for the following day.

That was not a smart decision though as it led to both of you sleeping in significantly late. By the time you two woke up, it was already the afternoon. Trying to make sure you were able to do everything you wanted to do, you both quickly got ready ate a small meal, and sped off down the road towards Klaus' cult estate. Both of you had wanted to see it in person and wondered what went on behind the closed doors. And you were already invited by Ben to see the chaos of cult life so why would you turn such an invitation down. As you approached the driveway to the estate Charlie slowed the car down. Turning into the driveway Charlie carefully approached the building. Once you were close enough to it you stepped out of the car and walked the short distance to the entrance as you did so a woman in loose blue clothing and a flower crown noticed the two of you and smiles.

"Hello, friends! Are you here to meet the prophet?" She asks in a kind voice

"Why yes, we are." Charlie states

"A spirit of your prophet invited us to come today." You add

"How lovely! Please follow me." She instructs

The two of you look at each other before following the woman inside the house and down a corridor. As you follow her you see lines of people kneeling on opposite sides of a door. Some are playing tambourines while others hold baskets in their hands. Suddenly, the doors to a room open and you watch as Klaus walks out of the room in only his underwear. That was not a sight you ever thought you would have to see and yet, you did. The followers who held baskets in their hands threw flower petals at Klaus. Whatever was going on had barely even started but you could see why Ben had called it a mess. You and Charlie approach a little closer and see a large room filled with people in blue clothing sitting on the floor. You and Charlie give each other a side-eye glance before looking back at the scene before you;

"Okay, thank you. Sit down. My name is Klaus, and I am an alcoho...Sorry, that's the wrong meeting." Klaus starts

Klaus lets out a nervous laugh but the group is unfazed. You watch as the followers look on with eager eyes as they listen to every word he says. Realizing he needs to say something Klaus continues,

"Uh, in my walkabout, I did a lot of thinking, searching, ruminating, and there's something that I'd like to share with all of you. I'm a fraud. Yeah, I- I've been lying to all of you from- from the start, and, uh...I'm a complete and total fraud." You can see Klaus look over to Ben after finishing his statement and Ben giving him back an acceptable nod. The crowd murmurs to themselves but not long after one man stands up from the crowd and looks around at the others. "Me too. I- I'm a fraud too." The man says

"What is going on?" Charlie whispers to you

"I don't know." you reply quietly

The man approaches Klaus and knees before him continuing,

"I'm the worst kind of fraud. I- I am a fraud to myself. But your scriptures say, As long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive."

"He used the song I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor as his "scripture" to these people. I bet he did, I bet he stole it." You comment quietly to Charlie

Right after you finish your statement to Charlie, Klaus replies to the man, "But that's not scripture. Okay? That's a song lyric by disco diva Gloria Gaynor, and I stole it!"

"Called it." You state

The crowd murmurs the name Gloria Gaynor to each other in confusion as they wait for Klaus to speak more. Klaus didn't know what to say though and you could see him cracking under the pressure of trying to admit his falseness to the group.

"Look, eh, you guys don't wanna follow me. I can't lead you anywhere. I'm not a guru, I'm not a messiah, I'm...I'm a...fraud! And I don't know what I'm doing up here. I- I don't. I'm just, you know...making it up as we...You- You people should all just...go back to your families." Klaus rambles

The man who had kneeled in front of Klaus before could be heard crying. Letting out a sigh Klaus approaches the man, places his hands on the back of his neck so he will look at him, and in a hushed tone states, "Keechie...Stop, stop, stop, stop. Look, look, look at me in the face, okay? It's okay. It's okay, though. Listen. Everything is gonna be okay. Okay?" "I understand." The man replies

"Good," Klaus says "When we admit our own fraudulence, only then can we experience true humility." The man continues "No, no, no, no, no, no! That's not what I meant. It's not what I meant." Klaus exclaims turning to the group

All the members one by one stand up exclaiming aloud how they are a fraud. You look across the hall and see Ben there standing with a shocked face. As Klaus climbs up the few stairs to stand in the archway again the lady who had brought you into the house approaches Klaus and says,

"Prophet, two visitors have come to see you."

Klaus takes a look in your direction and sees you and Charlie standing there. Opening his arms wide he exclaims with a smile on his face,

"(Y/N)! Come here!"

Reluctantly, you approach him and bring him into a hug. It was quite awkward given the fact he was only in his underwear but yet it was kind of sweet. Even with all the stuff he had done and was currently doing he was still the same Klaus you knew as a kid. You could hear as the crowd of followers went from exclaiming their fraudulence to quiet whispers.

"What brings you and your friend here (Y/N)?" Klaus asks

"We were invited by a spirit of yours,"  you answer

Klaus takes a look over towards Ben before replying,

"Must've been the pushy and annoying spirit that dragged you here."

"Prophet, who is this (Y/N)?" Keechie asks

"Ah. (Y/N) is my...soul sister..." Klaus lies "We have walked similar paths in life, seen similar things, and although we were physically separated as children our souls are intertwined."

There are oohs and ahhs that come from the crowd of people in the room before you and from behind you, you can hear Charlie trying to stifle laughter. Turning to look at him you shoot him a death glare. This was not entertaining.

"Oh soul sister to the prophet, do you have wisdom of your own that you can bless upon us?" Keechie asks as he kneels before you

"Oh jeez..." You mumble pinching the bridge of your nose "what did I get myself into?"

"Klaus, don't put (Y/N) through this." Ben comments from the sidelines

"Uh..." Klaus says "Hey soul sister, do you have anything for them?"

"Oh my god, Klaus," Ben complains

From behind you, you can hear Charlie start a slow chant,

"Knowledge. Knowledge. Knowledge."

You whip towards him and exclaim,

"Charlie!"

He does not stop though, instead, he just continues to chant and encourages the followers until all of them are chanting,

"Knowledge! Knowledge! Knowledge!"

"Fine!" You exclaim

All the people in the room quiet down and look at you intently. Taking a deep breath you wrack your brain for something to tell them. Completely bullshitting this whole ordeal you take a page out of Klaus' playbook and start to quote a song lyric,

"If you're lost...you can look, and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall...I will catch you. I'll be waiting. Time after time."

You then turn to Klaus and simultaneously you both repeat,

"Time after time."

When the two of you finish there is an uproar of cheers. People excitedly repeat the "knowledge" that you had blessed them with to themselves and to each other. These people were so brainwashed, it was ridiculous.

"What the fuck..." You say to yourself

"Yeah, I know." Klaus responds "How about I go put on some clothes and give the two of you a tour?"

"Why not? I guess..." You reply confused

Klaus goes and puts clothes on but as he does so many of the members of his cult come up and bow before you or touch you. it was odd, to say the least, and you definitely wanted it to stop. When Klaus came back out with his clothes he told the members to disperse as he took you by one arm and Charlie by the other showing you around. the estate was nice, but every time you ran into a member they'd look at you and Klaus in odd reverence. After what felt like forever you and Charlie decided that it was time to leave and never come back. You said goodbye to Klaus and waved goodbye to Ben, although you were sure that you would see them quite soon. Making your way back to Charlie's car you saw another person walking up towards the estate building. You can see Charlie's expression change from neutral to surprised.

"Hey, Dave." Charlie greets slightly confused

"Oh hey, Charlie. How are ya?" Dave asks

"Doing pretty well. How about you? The hardware business treating you well?" Charlie replies

"It's going well. I'm actually joining the army. Shipping off in about a week." Dave answers "But who's this Charlie? Your girlfriend?"

"Oh no she has a boyfriend already. This is my close friend (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Dave, we went to high school together but he was a grade above me. He was one of the only people who was nice to me." Charlie says

You extend your hand out to shake his and he grabs your hand shaking back.

"I haven't seen you around before are you new to the area?" Dave asks

"Oh, I dropped into Dallas about four years ago. I live with my mom and her partner down the road."  You explain

"Well, it's very nice to meet you (Y/N). It's unfortunate we didn't get to meet sooner, but hopefully when I get back you, Charlie, and I can all talk and get some floats down at the diner." Dave says in a cheerful tone

This poor boy. He's so sweet and innocent. You just met him and you wished you could stop him from going off to war. Especially since he was probably head to Vietnam. It was an unnecessary war. All of the proxy wars were bullshit but you couldn't do much about it. You put on a smile as best as you can.

"That sounds lovely. I look forward to it."  you comment "But we must get going, I have a family dinner to attend to, and I really don't want to be late."

"Alright, well it was nice to see you Charlie, and nice to meet you (Y/N). Hope you have a nice dinner." Dave says

"Thank you." You respond

"Thanks, Dave," Charlie adds

With that Dave heads off towards the mansion and you and Charlie head towards the car. When the two of you get into the car Charlie comments sarcastically,

"Oh, I dropped into Dallas about four years ago. Real clever."

"Shut up and drive." you retort

Charlie rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face and pulls out of the driveway heading towards the hotel where the dinner would be taking place.

While you were headed towards the Southland Life hotel, Five had already arrived. He looked down at his invitation to make sure he was at the right place but once he had done so he headed towards the entrance and inside the building. Making his way up an ornate staircase he looked around a bit before finding the elevator. Calling the elevator, the doors opened and Five stepped inside. He looked at the panel of floor buttons before pressing one of them and waited for the doors to close. None of his siblings had shown up. He was going to have to deal with the old man alone. He was prepared to do so...somewhat. But still he had hoped for him and his siblings to go together to confront him. Five stared off as the elevators started to close trying to build up thr confidence to face his father after all these years. He wished you could've been there by his side, but you had no reason to be invited, you weren't a "pursuer". Right as the door were about to shut and hand comes in to bring the doors back open.

"Wait up." Diego says entering the elevator "Hold it." Allison adds "Hey, everyone." Klaus greets drunkenly

Vanya enters the elevator silently as Luther follows quietly saying, "Excuse me."

Five looks around at his siblings. They all came. Five faces forward and a small smile appears.

"Good. We're all here." He says

Five's face returns to a neutral expression as the elevator doors finally close and they head up the floors to where they would be meeting their father. As they do an awful smell starts to spread within the elevator. "Oh..." Allison says

"Oof." Five complains as he pinches his nose closed

"Luther!" Klaus exclaims

"Oh, my God." Vanya comments "Sorry, I'm nervous." Luther apologizes

When the doors open to the floor everyone rushes out trying to get away from the toxic environment inside the elevator. Walking into the tiki bar where they were meeting the siblings catch their breath and take in some clean air. As they all make their way around the table in the center of the room Five turns to his siblings and says, "All right, when Dad gets here, I'll do the talking, okay?" "Got a few questions for him myself." Diego responds

"Hey, we don't wanna scare him off. He might be able to help us stop doomsday, get us home." Five retorts annoyed "No, we need to figure out why he's planning to kill the president."

It was ridiculous that he was still continuing on with this whole "Dad is going to kill Kennedy" thing. Could he not give it up for a day? For an hour? Of course not. That would require some form of critical thinking, of which he had none. "This is a matter of life and death, you imbecile."  Five chastises   "Okay, yeah, maybe we should take turns talking. Yeah?" Vanya suggests picking up something from a nearby table "Here, whoever has got this conch shell gets to talk." "Vanya, we don't have time for a debate, okay?" Five replies already frustrated at the group "Maybe I should lead. We all know I'm a better public speaker than the rest." Allison suggests grabbing the conch from Vanya "Okay, Daddy's girl." Diego comments sarcastically "Oh, jealous, Number Two?" Allison retorts "Hey, no more numbers. No more bullshit." Diego demands as he approaches Allison "Uh, Diego. You don't have the conch." Luther mentions politely

Diego gives Luther a smile before grabbing the conch from Allison's hand. Once he fully has it though he quickly proceeds to throw it at a wall smashing it to pieces. "Classic." Allison comments, rolling her eyes

As the siblings argued upstairs you had just arrived at the building. Charlie had parked around the back so you wouldn't been seen by anybody who may have arrived for this meeting. Before you got out of the car Charlie questions,

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I should be there. Whatever is happening is important and I should know about it." You reply

"This is going to be a family gathering but with Reginald. I can only assume it will go worse than the events of yesterday. Do you really want to deal with that?" Charlie asks confused

"No. But I feel I need to be there. This an issue for all eight of us."

"Okay but how are you going to get in unnoticed? You weren't invited after all." Charlie inquires

You step out of the car but lean down so you can look at him through the window.

"I'll just go in invisible. I'll only reveal myself if necessary."

"Alright. I'm going to go park a block away on North Griffin Street. Come find me after." Charlie says before adding "Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it." you respond

You stand up and watch Charlie drive away for a bit before turning to face the building. You take a breath before turning invisible and making your way inside. Taking the back entrance you head up towards the lobby and press the button to call the private elevator. You had been here plenty of times before for various meetings and parties that Reginald had to attend so you knew your way around pretty easily. Any regular person would take the main one but in a side hallway there was a special one used for grand entrances. Thinking that everyone must already be up there you knew that you could get in relatively unnoticed by using this elevator. When the doors open you stepped in and turned around, but as you were about press the close door button Reginald walked in to the elevator.

Shit.

You sucked in your breath quickly and covered your mouth trying to be as quiet as possible. You couldn't be found out. Not like this at least. Quietly you moved to the left of the elevator and tried to stay out of the way. Reginald reached for the button to the tiki bar floor and soon enough the doors closed and the elevator start to rise. When the elevator doors open Reginald quickly storms out of the elevator pushing through the private entrance doors. Still invisible you slip out of the elevator and through the door. As you enter the tiki bar you can see the shocked faces of all the Hargreeves children present. It had been a long time since any of them had actually interacted with their father. You head over to a seat near the table as you watch the scene unfold before you. Reginald approaches the table that the rest of them were surrounding and takes a seat. Once most of the Hargreeves had sat down as well he criticizes,

"Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have, on numerous occasions, called me..."

He is cut off by Klaus though who sits down with a drink and greets, "Hey, Pop. How's it hangin'?"

Reginald looks over at Klaus annoyed before finishing his statement,

"Dad."

He looks back to the group and continues, "My reconnaissance tells me you're not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so who are you?"

There are a lot of deep breaths and looks off to the side. Saying they were his kids was probably a more difficult task than it looked from the outside. You could see your boyfriend shifting nervously in his chair as you then realized this was the first time he was face to face with Reginald since he ran away. Quietly, you approach him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You can feel him jump slightly as he turns his head back to see what was there. He looks confused for a second as he sees nothing but you squeeze his shoulder reassuringly and he realizes that it's you there with him. You just couldn't be seen. As no one continues to answer Five turns back to face his father and speaks up for the rest of the group, "We're your children. We're from the future. In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. Called us the Umbrella Academy."

You notice as Klaus drunkenly raises his martini glass after Five mentions the academy. What an odd thing to cheers. Then again you went and saw the cult that Klaus ran and compared to that it wasn't as odd. "Why on earth would I adopt six-" Reginald starts to question but is cut off by Allison

"Seven." Allison corrects "One of us isn't here."

"Dead. One of us is dead." Diego solemnly adds

Five reaches up and places his hand on top of your invisible one. To others it just looked like he was touching his shoulder but really he was reaching to you. He was glad that he had you there with him. From not too far away you can see Ben sitting at a table behind Klaus. "Dead, yes, but I'm here. Klaus!" Ben exclaims to him

Klaus turns to what looks like empty space but is really where Ben is and says, "Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba."

"Tell them I'm here!" Ben demands "Enough of that now." Klaus retorts

Reginald and the rest of the Hargreeves look on at Klaus' unexplained behavior. When Klaus turns back around Reginald looks at the group once more and harshly asks,

"Regardless, what would possess me to adopt seven ill-mannered malcontents?" "We all have special abilities." Five elaborates "Special? In what sense?" Reginald inquires "In the superpower sense." Luther adds

Reginald sits up straight, a stern look on his face as he critically remarks,

"Called me old-fashioned, but I'm a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me." "Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden..." Allison complains taking a sip from her drink "We're not circus animals, okay? We're not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like seals for your amusement." Luther retorts

Immediately, Diego pulls out one of his knives and throws it forward redirecting it so it just barely passes Reginald and lands in a wooden post across the room. You could tell by the look on Diego's face that he was frustrated. Reginald looks down at the notebook he had brought with him and starts to jot down notes. All of the Hargreeves lean in to try and see what was being written down. "What are you writing?" Diego asks "You are zero for two, young man." Reginald taunts

Quickly, Diego stands up and tries to make his way over to but Five flashes in front of him. Putting his hands up to hold Diego back he whispers to him, "Stop!"

"Now that is interesting," Reginald states as he looks on surprised

Diego sits himself back down and you decide to go sit at the bar. From the way things were going you felt it could get messy and you didn't want to be a part of that. "All right, uh, quick rundown. Luther: super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead. Allison can rumor anyone to do anything." Five starts to explain as he heads back to his seat "Except she never uses it." Diego jabs

Allison turns angrily to Diego and rumors, "I heard a rumor you punched yourself in the face."

As the rumor said Diego punched himself in the face. "Aah! Damn it!" He cried out

Allison slurps on her drink and gives him a pointed look even if he wasn't looking back. Five uses his hand to gesture to Reginald his point about Allison's power. Reginald then turns to Vanya and questions, "And you?" "Uh, maybe we don't take Vanya for a test run," Luther interjects "Oh, yeah, that's probably not a good idea," Klaus adds "It's fine. I can handle it." Vanya replies

"Handle it? Last time you handled it, you definitely blew up the moon." Allison states

Vanya doesn't listen though and instead picks up a spoon from the table and brings it back. Her siblings watch on as she brings it forward to hit it against her cup. "No, Vanya, don't!" Five exclaims

Vanya does not stop though and hits the cup causing a soundwave to ring out. Focusing the sound energy on the plate of fruit in front of her she causes it to explode. The fruit splatters onto everyone, except you since you had walked away. But although you didn't get hit with the fruit you did get hit with the soundwave. Doubling over from the pain of the disturbance the soundwave had created bite your tongue not trying to make any immediate sounds to alert the others to your presence. You would only become visible if it was necessary. Taking some quiet breaths, you sit on the bar top and are able to get back to normal and focus again. "Oops," Vanya says softly as everyone wipes the fruit off of them "That was impressive." Luther comments "Look, we know that you're involved in a plot to assassinate the president," Diego explains getting up from his chair

"You were recently hospitalized, isn't that correct? You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia." Reginald rebukes "Am I? Explain this." Diego retorts as he pulls out a photo of Reginald and shows it to him "That's you. That's two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the president's gonna get shot."

Reginald takes a glance at the photo before looking back up at Diego and commenting, "Well, I suppose you've solved it. You've single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot."

You can see a slight glimpse of hope in Diego's eyes but it's cut short as Reginald ridicules,

"Is that what you want to hear? You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you're a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head."

From the bar, you watch as the light in Diego's eyes slowly starts to fade and is overtaken by sadness and disappointment. Slowly he sits down more and more as Reginald's words cut deeper. You had seen them look on his face many times before, it was the same expression he would take as a child after Reginald harshly criticized him. Anger began to rise in you as you saw the trauma of his time in the academy and the feeling of not being good enough take over him. When Diego sits back in his seat he looks directly at Reginald and stutters out sadly, "You're wr-wrong."

Reginald ignores this though and starts to continue,

"Furthermore-"

You were done with this man and his mistreatment of your brother. Nobody talked to him like that. Not on your watch. Quickly, you whip out a knife and throw it in the direction of Reginald having it land in the spot on the table in front of him. The group all looks at the knife in shock.

"Enough." You yelled

They all turn to look at you. Jumping down from where you were sitting on the bar you slowly walk over towards the table.

"That was a warning, so I'd choose your next words carefully. I have nine more of those on my person and if you recall my 20th birthday" You firmly state "I don't miss."

Everyone was shocked to see you there, but most of all was Reginald.

"What are you doing here? You weren't invited to this affair." He demands

"Oh Reggie, I think it's highly important for me to be here." You say in a sarcastic tone

"How did you even get in here?" He questions

"I took the elevator with you." You explain "And then I sat around here for a while."

"Impossible. I didn't see you." He retorts

"You know Reggie, for someone who touts his intelligence you really can't put two and two together can you?" You sneer "Whatever do you mean?"

"I really have to spell it out for you, huh?" You say as you take steps closer to him "I'm. One. Of them."

"Oh really? So what can you do then?" Reginald asks in an insulting tone

"I can do a lot of things."

"Well go on then." He requests

You then start to explain your powers to Reginald. He didn't deserve an explanation but you did want to shove your abilities in his face.

"Well, there's a plethora of things I can do. You already know I can go invisible." You say as you make yourself disappear

"I can jump from place to place on a whim." You continue as you hop to different spots around the room

I can go through things and things can go through me." You add as you walk through the tables and walls around the room

"I can make things denser or lighter. Luther catch." You say as you throw him a glass

He catches it but is immediately pinned down to the ground and can't get up. You walk over to him and pick up the glass before turning back to Reginald.

"I can change the state of matter of an object." You explain as you turn the glass into a liquid and smoke before turning it back to normal and placing it on an adjacent table

"Hell, I can make things blow up by just thinking about it enough." You add with a smile as the glass blows up behind you

"I can create fire and water and smoke out of practically nothing. And I can see and feel disturbances in the world. I can do just about anything and you know why?" You ask rhetorically

"Why?" Reginald asks as he vigorously writes down notes

"Because I can control the things that make up this entire world. Molecules." you finish before adding "Was my demonstration to your satisfaction, sir?"

"Perhaps. Though, I am appalled that you were living under my roof for years and said nothing of your abilities."

"Why would I tell you about my abilities? You work with government. I wasn't about to be sent away to the MK Ultra project or used as a weapon of war. Now, let me get a drink before we really jump into things." You state walking over to the bar

"Absolutely not. What have I told you about drinking?" Reginald calls

"Yeah yeah, your mind is like a gold statue alcohol will only dull the brilliance, yadda yadda yadda." You mock "I'm still getting a drink."

"No." He demands firmly

The Hargreeves look back and forth between you and their father. The conversation between the two of you was contentious and yet there was something off about the way Reginald talked to you.

"And why not Sir Buzzkill?" You retort

"Because I'm your father and you'll respect my wishes." He states

And there it was. Reginald saw you as his kid. The way he was talking to you was odd because he was talking to you...like a parent. All the real Hargreeves children look on in shock. Their eyes wide and their jaws dropped at what he has said. There's a lull of silence before you burst out laughing.

"HA! You're not my dad. I have a dad. He's dead, but I have one." You say in an amused tone

You then head towards the bar and start looking through the drinks as you complain,

"Just because I live with you or you're dating my mom doesn't make me your kid. You tried to do this before, numbered your kids one through seven based on how much you liked them pretty much, and then were like you're number zero because it comes before one. No. I'm not a number. I'm not your favorite kid. I'm not your kid at all. I'm (Y/N)."

When you finally find something good, you grab a glass and start to pour it as you continue,

"Furthermore, If I were your child, I would've turned out like those sitting before you. The closest you'll probably ever get is the unfortunate title of father-in-law."

There's silence once more as everyone takes what you said in. You take a sip of your drink as Reginald looks on taken aback.

"You..."  he inquires confused "are partnered with one of them?"

Grabbing your drink you walk over towards the table as you say,

"Yes I am and I don't appreciate that comparison type tone you used when saying that."

You continue to walk and go stand behind Five, placing a hand on his shoulder once more. You take a sip of your drink before adding,

"Honestly I'm surprised you're not happier. A woman of my stature coupled with one of your sons? And might I add, he's the most competent of your sons.”

"Hey!" Diego exclaims

"When you decide to leave JFK alone I will reconsider." You reply

"Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it." Five interjects

"War? Men will always be at war with each other." Reginald replies

"No, this isn't just some war. I'm talking about a doomsday. The end of the world." Five elaborates "Well, you're the special ones, aren't you? Why don't you band together and do something about it?" Reginald suggests

You all stare at Reginald but as you do you solely hear Ben yell out, "All right. Screw it."

Ben then runs and jumps into Klaus' body causing his arms to go up in the air and his body to start shaking. He was possessing him. You had no words for the given situation but the others did. "Is he having a seizure?" Allison wonders "Overdosing probably," Diego suggests "Should we do something?" Luther questions

"Klaus! Now is not the time. What are you doing?" Five questions

Klaus, or rather Klaus' body turns towards Reginald. It looked like a struggle though.

"I'm..." Klaus' voice says "Out with it, boy." Reginald commands  "...Ben!" His voice forces out

Immediately after he falls to the ground and starts gasping for air. You can see Ben's passed-out figure next to him. Reginald looks on disgusted before stacking his papers and commenting, "Well...thank you for coming. I've seen about enough."

Reginald then gets up and starts to walk away from the table but Luther slams his hands down, stands up, and rips his shirt open exclaiming,

"Look at what you did to me. Look at it!” "Oh, shit. Why?" Five complains as slouches back in his chair

How did his siblings manage to completely mess up everything again, like it was the only thing they knew how to do. Downing more of your drink to deal with the progressively awkward nature of the situation you stood next to your boyfriend's side. Five reached up and took your hand in his. If none of his siblings were going to support him at least he knew he had you. Reginald looks at the scene before him before turning to Five and asking, "You in the culottes. A word, in private?"

He then walks away from the table and goes to sit over at the bar. You and Five look at each other as the rest of his siblings make their way to the elevator to leave. As Diego passes you let go of Five's hand and grave Diego's wrist stopping him in his tracks. He turns towards you and you can tell he was still upset from what transpired earlier. Without saying another word you bring him into a hug. No matter how upset you were at his actions you weren't going to place that above your love for your brother. Diego held you tightly, you were the only one who stood up for him when his father was beating him down. You were the best sister he could've asked for. From the elevator, Luther can be heard calling,

"Diego let's go.”

Diego pulls back from the hug and looks at you once more before silently turning and leaving. You hear the sound of the elevator door close and all that is left is you, Five, and Reginald. You turn to Five who is getting up to head over to talk at the bar and he turns to you.

"Just give us a moment." Five states

"Are you sure? I can pretend to leave and stay." You suggest

"No, darling. I need to do this myself." Five replies

You look at him softly and bring a hand up to his cheek. He places his hand on top of yours holding it in place as he gives a kiss to your palm. He then closes your hand up into a ball before gently holding it on the space above his heart.

"I'll meet you down in the lobby." Five says quietly

"Okay." You whisper back

Five lets go of your hand and the two of you split, him walking over to Reginald at the bar and you walking toward the main elevator. As you press the button to call the elevator up you hear Reginald call out behind you,

"(Y/N) I expect you home promptly.”

You let out a huff as you turn to face him.

"Fine...just don't get mom involved in this. She's already gone through so much with me." you softly ask of him

"I will not get your mother involved. Not even I want to place that stress on her." Reginald responds

"Good." You say nodding your head, a far-off look in your eyes "...good”

The doors to the elevator open and you reluctantly enter it. You press the button to the lobby floor and as the doors close the last thing you see is Five taking his seat next to Reginald. You hoped he would be okay being in front of him without you.

"You seem to be the sensible one, or as described, the most competent of the bunch." Reginald comments

"That's because I'm the oldest. You know, technically, I'm older than you right now."

Reginald looks at him slightly confused but when a bartender appears and places a bottle of brandy on the counter he offers,

"Cognac?"

"Just a smidge." Five says with a half-smile "The other night you quoted Homer at me. Why?" Reginald questions "You forced us all to learn it as kids. In the original Greek, no less." "You know, your dear companion called my coworker and ignorant ass in ancient greek the first time I encountered her." Reginald states

"Sounds about right. She has a sharp tongue and an independent mind, I admire it." Five explains, an amused smirk rising to his face as he thought of you. 

Reginald slides him a glass of cognac and the two of them give silent cheers before taking a sip. Five places his glass down and his tone changes to a more serious one,

"This world ends in five days if we don't get out of the timeline."

"Worlds end. Paleozoic, Jurassic, and so on." 

"We can do something about this one." Five states

"Man's greatest flaw: the illusion of control." Reginald retorts "I need your help. All right? You're my last sane option. Otherwise, I gotta make a deal that I really don't wanna make. What do you know about time travel?" "In theory?" Reginald asks

"In practice."

"I know it's akin to descending blindly into the depths of freezing waters and reappearing-" Reginald starts

"As an acorn. Yeah." Five finishes unenthused

"What transpired when you tried traveling before?" "I botched it. Big time." Five complains

"How?"

"I jumped too far forward in time. Accidentally brought (Y/N) with me and she got stuck 11 years in the future. Then I jumped without her and got stuck in an apocalypse for 45 years. Then I jumped too far backward, except this time I brought everyone with me." "Maybe your appetite is disproportionate to the size of your abilities. Start small. Seconds, not decades." Reginald suggests "Seconds? Look, no offense, but I need a bit more time for what I'm trying to accomplish." Five remarks "So much can change in a matter of seconds. One could overthrow an empire." Reginald starts before pausing for a second "One could fall in love. An acorn doesn't become an oak overnight."

"I was really hoping you had more than that." Five admits

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help." Reginald apologizes "I'm sorry, too. I gave you such a hard time as a kid. I didn't know any better." 

Reginald looks over at Five before raising his glass and saying,

"No skin off my teeth, old man."

The two of them sit in silence and when Five finishes his drink he gets up and leaves. Taking the elevator down he finds you in the lobby. When the doors open you quickly make your way over to him and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into a hug. Five holds you close but pulls back to look at you. Something was off about him.

"Did everything go okay?" You asked

Five looks away from you and off in the distance.

"Yes but..."

"But what?" you inquire softly

Five lets out a sigh and looks back at you. This was not the situation he wanted to be in at all. In a solemn tone, he answers,

"If I'm going to get us out of this timeline I need to go make deal with the devil."

"Well then, you lead the way and I'll follow you out." you reply "Just promise me something.”

"Anything."

"Don't turn around until you're sure we're all in the clear." you respond

Five pressed his forehead against yours as he held you close. 

"Of course my love." he whispered

You tilted your head up towards his and place a soft peck on his lips before stepping away.

"I'll see you soon," you said

Five quietly nodded his head in response and with that he flashed away to go play some jazz with the devil in hell.

________________________________

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[muffinwalloper]

Let's talk about the villain - Cruella De Vil Part II

The door opens and Cruella steps into the working room. Here, the audience understands that Cruella owns a fashion company which makes sense for her character and explains her infatuation with furs. Here, the audience is shown that her company produces high class fashion that aligns with couture and is possibly only worn by models and celebrities. The whole room is held in grey colours and hard edges with cold light from above. Also, note the painting on top of the entrace: it looks like flames. Cruella is basically stepping through the gates of hell!

The camera ankle changes once more and shows Cruella from worm's-eye-view. That in combination with her whole appearance makes her look huge and intimidating. The audience still can't see her face, only her jawline and her red lipstick. Her black attire stands out perfectly against the light grey of the room and she literaly walks down the catwalk in the middle of the room while all of her employees are beneath her. Also, this scene worked as an inspiration for Meryl Streeps character Miranada Prestly in The devil wears Prada. Miranda and Cruella are both fashion icons, boss ladies and intimidate their employees with their mere presence. Even though it's more subtle here than in Devil wears Prada, Cruella's employees also act in a rushed way and do their best to look as busy as they can. Also, in contradiction to the men who have greeted her on the street, none of her employees here dares to even look her way. They know that she's here but are so afraid of her that they rush to get back to their work, so she hopefully will just pass them.

Now, Anita is introduced. Anita seems to be the only one who hasn't noticed Cruella's entrance and is actually busy with work. Cruella steps towards her from behind and in doing so, she slows her pace and moves like a predator stalking it's prey in an attempt to get a glimpse at Anita's work.

Anita only notices that someone is standing behind her when Cruella is already within arms reach. She then turns and for the first time, Cruella's face is shown to the audience. Cruella, being focused on Anita's work only looks at her then and immediately flashes her a false smile. Glenn Close absolutely nails that smile that doesn't reach her eyes. In a way, it can be viewed as a mere flashing of teeth which fits her whole appearance along with her fashion choices that indicate that she's some kind of predator (more than that in part III). So, she gives Anita that broad smile after having creeped up from behind and greets her (her first line in the movie): "Anita, darling." Not only has she never so much as looked at one of her employees before, much less greeted them but she openly smiles at Anita and steps right into her space in an almost familiar way. From all that the audience has seen so far they realise that Cruella uses people to her advantage. So, when she steps up to Anita and greets her in a friendly manner, the audience knows that she must have something that Cruella wants.

In this scene, the audience learns that Anita does indeed have something that Cruella wants - talent. Cruella tells Anita that much later in her office and is clearly struck by Anita's last work. In the original, Cruella's idea to make a coat out of puppies comes to her when she visits Anita and Roger and meets the dogs for the first time. In this version, the idea is presented to her by Anita who used her dog's (Perdita) spots as an inspiration for a design idea. As Anita explains the idea to Cruella, she steps even closer and runs her hand along Anita's sketches as well as the photos of Perdita. Here, it's established that Cruella, whenever she sees something that catches her interest, reaches out for it to grab it. She's a woman who is used to get whatever she wants because she simply takes it. That much is shown again later when she tries to buy the newborn puppies of Anita and Roger and they decline. Cruella reacts with a bone deep rage, calls Anita insane (when clearly she's the insane one) and fires her. Obviously, nobody has ever dared to say no to her before and even if someone might have hesitated to give her what she wanted, Cruella seems to always have gotten her way with money. When she fails to buy the puppies, she's put in a position that she is unfamiliar with and reacts with force (stealing them).

Now for the way, Cruella interacts with her employees. After having seen Anita's ideas she invites her into her office. They are followed by Frederick, her head of designs. Whereas she was nice to Anita she treats Frederick with the same arrogance as she did the Portier. At first she doesn't look at him and when she does, she doesn't change her position but makes him change his to look at her. Whereas she stands in a comfortable position, Frederick leans to his left side, cranes his neck and lowers his chin to be on one level with her. She makes him cower in front of her whereas she stands tall. She's managed to look down on him despite their obvious difference in height. Also, note how she keeps him pinned with her gaze while his eyes stray towards the side or the ground again and again, avoiding direct eye contact. Another point is their conversation which makes the hierarchy clear to everyone who hasn't got it yet:

C.: "Do you like spots, Frederick?"

F.: "Oh, I don't believe so, Madame. I thought we liked stripes this year."

C.: "What kind of sycophant are you?"

F.: "What kind of sycophant would you like me to be?"

I mean, he's practically asking her to step on him even more. Frederick, even though meant as a caricature sums up perfectly what kind of boss Cruella is and contrasts the way she speaks to Anita. Cruella wants Anita to share her ideas with her and does everything she can to lure her in. She invades her personal space from the beginning, acts like a friend. She speaks to her in a friendly manner with a calm voice whereas she snaps at every other employee. She invites her to her office, makes her sit down, offers her a drink and tries everything to make her comfortable while Anita is clearly uncomfortable with the way Cruella treats everyone else. However, being a rather shy nature, Anita would never voice her discomfort to her boss and tries to smile it away politely. Even when Cruella commands Alsonso around right in front of her, she doesn't say anything although she clearly feels sorry for him. In her interaction with Alonso also lies another layer of Cruella's character. To her, Alsonso is the lowest being in her orbit. She has zero patience with him and expects him to run at her very command, she's offended when he doesn't catch her meaning immediately. At that point, I'm wondering if she even paid the poor man. Cruella is portayed as a spinster and man hater in general. Be it Roger, Alonso, Skinner, Horrace or Jasper. All she does is ordering them around harshly while at the same time looking down on them.

To sum up, in my opinion THIS is how you introduce a villain in a movie! It's perfection!

[spectralscathath]

Like-Minded Souls, Indeed?

Because this was exactly what Mercury needed, the voice of someone his boss killed showing up in his head and telling him to save the world. No thank you. Not unless you paid him.

Meanwhile, on Ozpin's side of things, he would like to very much not be found out by Salem. That would be... unfortunate.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1: In Which Neither Mercury Nor Ozpin Can Ever Catch A Break

Ozpin felt the tugs of Ozma's magic at the corners of his mind, the limbo of their incarnations finally broken as a like-minded soul was bonded with.

He awoke in the back of someone's mind, still bleary as though he was physically waking up from a deep sleep. The mindscape was quiet with a forced calm, tension like pulled strings threading through the soul of this new individual and ready to snap at the slightest touch.

He looked out a set of new eyes, to see if it was a good time to introduce himself, and felt ancient fear flood through him at the sight of Ozma's oldest and most terrible foe. Oh. Oh no. This was very bad. This was quite possibly the worst place he could incarnate.

Salem herself, smiling at the girl who had killed him under Beacon. To die in fire was not an experience the countless souls wanted to repeat, and Ozpin was unfortunate enough to join the ranks of the few predecessors who’d suffered such a painful death.

He chose to say nothing, instead observing the way silver strands of hair fell over the side of his vision, how the body ached with phantom pains that were not Ozpin's, and wisely retreated back into the mind.

Perhaps another time.

Perhaps when Mr Mercury Black was not currently surrounded by danger.

After all, they both had to make the best of things now. He could only hope that Mr Black would be the type who could be persuaded away from Salem.

If not, then this was going to be... difficult.

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

Ozpin had been a father, so many lifetimes before. He had never been perfect, he had made countless mistakes across Ozma's many lifetimes, he accepted them all as his failures, so he could learn from them and do better in the next life.

He had given his second life in a futile attempt to save his daughters, and sometimes wondered if he regretted his choices. Should he have stayed? If he had stayed, would he still be alive? Would his children still be alive?

The look Marcus Black wore in so many of Mercury's memories reminded him too much of Salem to ever again regret his attempt to escape her clutches.

He had been waiting a long time, studying Mercury’s routine so he could find the safest time to breach the gap between them. He had to say, this was an opportunity like no other, to see what Salem’s plans were without detection, but with great reward came terrible risk. All it would take was one slip, and they’d both be dead. Or worse. And if he did nothing, then all the knowledge he could gain would be for naught.

So he waited until they were alone before he could chance speaking to him, until Mercury had retreated to his corners and locked the door, shoving a chair under the handle as was his custom. He was paranoid, which was a very fair response to the situation. The massive wardrobe must have taken some shoving to put it in the path of the window, but it certainly did prevent any unwelcome visitors who might see it as a means of entry.

The bed pushed into the corner was wise as well, to put his back to a wall,  although the fact that Mercury piled his pillows under the covers as a decoy and then slept under the bed itself might have been pushing it somewhat.

He waited until Mercury was sitting on the bed, looking over his weapons and performing any upkeep needed, the faint cyan glow from the vents in his prosthetics lining his silver fringe.

Mr Black, don’t be alarmed.

“What the FUCK?!” Mercury bolted upright, knife in hand as he looked around, head swinging to every potential place an intruder could be. “Who’s there?!”

Professor Ozpin. He had to think quickly. Don’t tell Salem or she will kill you. This is part of my curse as her opponent, I must incarnate into a new mind with every death, and I am now currently in yours.

“No the fuck you are not.” Mercury snarled. “Show yourself, come out and face me.”

I can’t, actually. He should try and enter Mercury’s dream. He personally had never done that, but Ozma had, so therefore he had as well… hadn’t he? It seemed the lines were blurring between himself and Ozma already. More than they had been when he was alive. He’d been one of the more compatible hosts, on account of not having anything that really needed Ozpin Headley more than it needed Ozma-in-Ozpin’s-head.

“Nope. Okay. I’ve gone mad. I’ve been up too long.”

That is true. Mercury had a terrible case of insomnia, it seemed. Though with the night terrors he had, it was understandable. He was about to have a whole lot more, once the merge hit the point where Ozpin was able to fade into the memory consciousness, just as Ozana had when she had joined the other incarnations in the depths of their shared subconscious.

He was hoping he could spare the young man the nightmares from hundreds of deaths. Ten thousand years was a long time to live and die and live again. Mr Black, I assure you, this is not an ideal situation for me either, but you must understand that you are not crazy and that I am now-

“Taking up residence in my head like a fucking pervert? What, running a school wasn’t enough for you to get your sick kicks?” Mercury snarled at him.

Okay, that was uncalled for. Mr Black, that is very untrue. This is just something that happens . After all, someone had to stop Salem.

“Fuckin- alright, fine, so I’ve gone mad. What else is new?” Mercury grumbled, sitting back down and angrily sharpening a knife.

You’re very sane, I assure you. Ozana had told him something similar, if a bit less polite.

“Right, I’m talking to a voice in my head while living in a castle owned by some sort of humanoid Grimm witch, that’s the definition of sanity.” Mercury snarked at him.

If you can believe Salem’s existence, then surely you can believe mine?

“I don’t believe anything you say. Can you go back to shutting up?” Mercury’s anger was a tangible force in their head, not like a wildfire, but more like a poison, something that slowly corroded whatever it touched. It was a very cold anger.

I’m afraid not. I must insist that you leave this place before Salem finds out of my presence, or she WILL kill you then and there. Or worse. There could be so much worse. Salem had been around far longer than he had, by sheer virtue of her immortality working differently. It had left her with a large pool of creative methodology for causing pain, many of which had been lost to time.

He didn’t want to undergo that as much as Mercury likely wouldn’t want to either, so that meant leaving was their best choice. He’d been listening in on a few of the meetings that Salem had hosted, finding out that Haven was the next target, and Vacuo after that. He’d also found that she hadn’t yet obtained the Crown of Choice, but that she did still have at least one operative in Vale looking. He wished them luck. He personally had decided to move the Beacon Vault and hide it a little better after he took over the school.

There was no way Salem’s people could find it. Not without his knowledge. Or Jinn’s knowledge.

He had to keep Jinn out of Salem’s reach. If summoned, she wouldn’t choose not to answer Salem’s question. She didn’t have that sense of morality. To the Relics, all that mattered was their task, and the rules that bound them to it.

So, Mercury, when do we leave?

“You’re stupid.” Mercury told him bluntly. “We’re on another continent with no way off that isn’t controlled by Salem. There is no leaving. At least not until she sends me out on a job. So here’s the deal, you shut the fuck up, and then maybe when I’m out of this creepy fucking castle, we can talk.” Ozpin could hear the lie in there. Mercury had zero intentions of ever talking to him again.

But it was a good idea, for safety’s sake. He would have to be a silent observer. After all, the walls could have ears.

Besides, once they were out on a job, so to speak, he could simply start talking again. After all, that was the letter of the potential agreement, if not Mercury’s intention.

Agreed. I will see you when we are in the clear.

“Piss off.” Mercury grumped at him, and just this once, Ozpin chose to comply. He could use the time to gather information, and silence was a small price to pay for that.

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

Mercury followed Emerald, Watts, and Cinder into the safehouse Lionheart had brought for them, feeling a strange sense of betrayal flood him that was definitely not his. He realised it was probably Ozpin, who had so far remained quiet during the flight out of Evernight, meeting up with Watts, and going over battleplans for confronting Raven Branwen.

He’d been tuned in just to see what his role was (he was Thug #2, the muscle who was meant to stand there and possibly kill someone if that kind of point had to be made), and was allowed to be basically invisible beyond that. He watched as Cinder went to cook herself dinner, and since she knew she controlled Emerald through food and shelter, probably Emerald as well. Mercury could cook for himself, if he had to, and Watts could starve for all they cared.

He wasn’t hungry anyway. Too busy trying to hold off on the wrenching nausea in his gut that was not his. “See ya, Em.” He shrugged at her, holding up his scroll. “I’m gonna play some Amid You. See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya, Merc.” She waved him off. She’d gotten a bit more tolerable since they got trapped together in the deathworld that was Salem’s castle. Not that they were friendly or anything. Just tolerable.

He made his way up the stairs and into one of the rooms, making sure it wasn’t the fanciest one because he’d let Cinder and Watts duke out ownership of that one. He locked the door, looking for something he could shove against it and picking the bedside table. It’d do.

He checked the window lock and pulled the curtains over, sitting on the bed as he played music on his scroll to mask the fact that he could be talking to himself, if only to tell Ozpin to shut the fuck up with the sadness.

“Alright asshole, what’s the problem.”

I can’t believe Leo would fall this far. Ozpin sounded fucking miserable. Sucks for him, he got betrayed. What happened to him? He was a hero for so long…

“People suck, get over it.” Seriously, if he’d been around since the asscrack of time, then he should know that.

Not always. Some people are good. It makes it hurt all the more when some of them turn out to… well. Stick a knife in your back . Ozpin sighed, impressive for a man who didn’t have a body or lungs. So. Now we can discuss you leaving this group and helping protect the Relic of Knowledge.

“Yeah, no, not happening. If there’s a mole on the inside of your old team, then me buggering off from Cinder is only gonna end up with us dead, which is that thing you didn’t want, right? After all, Leo runs Haven, and those kids Watts mentioned? First years and a drunken Huntsman. Haven’s dead meat.”

We have to try. Salem cannot be allowed to obtain any of the Relics.

“Nah. We have to survive. I’m not dying just because you wanna be a hero.” Mercury kicked his boots and greaves off, since he was out of Evernight, twirling his ankle a bit and listening to the metallic clicking the joint made.

Mr Black, I must insist. If the Vault in Haven is opened, it could go very badly. Besides, Qrow is my friend. I’d rather not risk him being hurt.

“Hey, the plan involves not going near Qrow. It’s a simple sneak in, sneak out, and the White Fang blow up the school a few days later. No one’s getting hurt, except for Lionheart. Clock’s ticking on his usefulness.” The plan was easy compared to Cinder’s weird domino pieces plan for taking down Beacon. He preferred the Haven plan that was clearly Salem and Watts’s idea. It was simple, no muss, no fuss. Easy pickings.

Gonna be great to see how Cinder’s rampaging ego ruined it, something easy like this clearly wouldn’t fuel her proud streak. She was just like Marcus. Always wanted a challenge. That was why he saved cutting off a target’s semblance for a finishing blow in his assassinations.

Haven Academy is important, Mercury, you can’t just let it be blown up! I won’t stand by while Salem steals the Relic and destroys another Academy! I can’t!

“All the Huntsman in Mistral are either dead or useless, gramps.” Mercury rolled his eyes. “Academy’s already useless. You should focus on the relic.” Maybe if he came up with another plan it’d get Ozpin off his back.

I don’t play to win at all costs, Mr Black. I try to protect as many pieces on the board as I can.

“That’s why you’re losing,” Mercury collapsed back on the bed, hooking his hands behind his head as he got comfortable. “How about another deal? We wait for Cinder to get the Relic. Watts has to go back to Evernight after dealing with Branwen, so the trip back will be me, her, and Emerald. Cinder won’t be expecting an attack, so how about we kill her, steal the ship, and then you can take the Relic wherever you want?”

And Emerald? Ozpin queried. Would you be killing her in this sneak attack as well?

That made him pause for a moment. Would he kill Emerald? Probably not, he didn’t need to. Cinder was absolutely a threat who had to be taken out as quickly as possible, but Emerald? Nah. “She’d probably get all butthurt that Cinder’s dead or whatever, but I don’t see why she should die as well. Worse comes to worst we’ll knock her out. We’d be doing her a favour, honestly. You’ve seen how Cinder treats her.” The fact that Ozpin was constantly watching everything was real fucking unnerving and something he tried to not think about at all times.

Hmmmm… Ozpin deliberated for ages, which made Mercury think he was probably scheming away. Whatever. Mercury wasn’t going to fall for any of it. What could a voice in his head do? Get sad at him? You think you can kill Cinder?

“I think that I’ve been watching how she fights for nearly two years now and that she’s got a massive blind spot on her left side.” It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be manageable. Amber got taken out too, after all. “You got anything that would help? Cinder said you put up a fight in that basement where she killed you.” He hoped that was uncomfortable to talk about. If he had to be disquieted by sharing headspace with a weirdo, so should Ozpin.

Yes. I have some magical ability left that can, at the very least, level the playing field a little bit. It’s not as strong as the Maiden’s magic, but if applied correctly, it could work.

Sounded like Ol’ Oz was coming around to ‘fuck everyone else, I got what I want in the end’. Selfish thinking won again. Why waste energy on stopping the destruction of a school when Cinder could be allowed to think she won and Mercury could then use that pride against her to escape this whole messed-up situation.

After all, Salem might be remaking the world and had offered to make him one of the top dogs, but in the pecking order, he was still near the bottom of the ladder. Besides, he did have her worst enemy in his head.

Escape was definitely the best option. “And hey, if she’s planning on attacking Vacuo after, think your buddy in Atlas would let us bunker down there?” If they did it right, then no one would know what happened. Cinder would be too dead to talk, Emerald would be a flight risk but he could probably talk her into not going back to work for Salem, and he sure wouldn’t tell anyone.

Yes. James can be trusted.

Just like Lionheart could, Mercury thought, but this one he kept to himself. “So. Deal?”

I don’t like this. It’s cruel and callous.

“I’m Mercury Black, have we met?” Why would he want to be anything else? The world was cruel. The only way to win was to take what you had and fight for what you wanted. No rules. No lines. Those made people weak.

… Very well. I’ll agree, for now.

“Then we’re done for tonight.”

I suppose we are. Thank you for hearing me out.

Mercury blinked perturbedly. Did he just get thanked? Weird. “Uh- sure. Whatever.”

Ozpin sounded way too amused as he chuckled, Mercury’s hackles rising only slightly. Good night, Mr Black.

Mercury snorted and didn’t bother replying, reaching for his scroll as he switched his music off and went into the games folder. Yeah it was gonna be a good night. He was gonna play video games til his eyes fell out and not sleep.

He supposed this situation with Ozpin could have been worse. At least the guy kept to himself and didn’t make a nuisance. If Mercury had to have a creepy man in his head talking to him, it could have been a lot worse. Could have had a Tyrian in there. Or a Watts.

Or his dad.

Mercury’s nose scrunched. Wouldn’t that be awful. Least Ozpin knew which of them was in control.

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

It was chaos in Haven Academy’s foyer. Mercury dodged a wild swing from Yang, flipping back in a handspring as he errantly observed the room. Ozpin had not been happy about the ‘kill everyone’ plan but whatever, they were here now. Ozpin had been a lot louder since then and was still there, still currently losing his mind in the back of Mercury’s head. Mercury tried to tune most of it out. Wasn’t easy.

Mercury, please! This can’t be what you want! Ozpin begged as Mercury watched that kid in the green get thrown through a wall by Hazel. Ozpin always went real quiet around him. He wondered why. They’re just children!

He didn’t answer back, because fuck it, what did he know? Being a kid didn’t mean shit. Where was ‘just children’ when Marcus beat him up daily? Nowhere, that’s where.

You have to stop this! You’ll never be able to get the Relic now, the plan won’t work! This is our only chance!

He dodged another gunshot from Yang, which was criminally easy, she definitely had not gotten faster since their last fight, and checked in on the only threat. Qrow was- oh fuck he had stopped fighting Raven, disengaging from that little sibling duel to charge Hazel, landing a blow to the guy’s back with enough force that Hazel’s knee hit the ground. Mercury swore it dented from the weight behind that blow.

No no no no no no-

He whistled as he caught Yang’s kick in one of his own, forcing her leg down and scoring a punch directly to the floating ribs. Her eyes went red for a moment as she swung a hook at him, one that he dodged again, knocking her around with a few more kicks to the head. Had she gotten sloppier? He would be ashamed to fight this badly.

Mercury. Please. Don’t make me do this.

He glanced over at where Qrow was nimbly dodging Hazel’s blows before a cheap shot from Lionheart hit him in the shoulder, knocking his footwork off-balance long enough that Hazel got his hands on Qrow.

Mercury I’m so sorry-

“What-” Mercury asked before his vision flashed gold, and he was shunted into the back of his own head. Suddenly he was the voice, and Ozpin was in control- he had no control over his own body, no way to stop as Ozpin took a running leap, leaving a confused Yang behind, and landed a kick into the side of Hazel’s head, the shotgun blasting right in his ear.

Ozpin had took over. Ozpin… could take over. And he’d never mentioned it. He’d never-

Qrow looked at them, utterly dumbfounded. The entire room had gone dead quiet as Ozpin-in-Mercury’s-body artfully landed between Qrow and Hazel, not taking his eyes off the latter. Then he spoke with Mercury’s voice but it wasn’t Mercury’s words and it wasn’t right-

“I’d like my cane back, if you wouldn’t mind, Qrow.”

Cinder was staring. Emerald was staring. Everyone was staring as Mercury was turned into a fucking puppet, all his control stolen away. He hadn’t even known Ozpin could- He’d thought-

His view of their- their, not his- vision tunnelled, greying out at the edges. Haven wasn’t there anymore. It was just that house. His room. The smell of whiskey and blood and cigarette burns-

And Mercury clocked out, brain going black with panic.

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

He felt hands on his shoulders even though there were no hands on his shoulders, pulling him out of the darkness and shoving him back in the driver’s seat. He blinked, collapsed against a wall with a cane handle in his hand and Qrow leaning over him, the smell of alcohol on the other man’s breath hitting some button in his head too close too close-

“Get AWAY from me!” He shrieked, kicking him full in the chest and loosing a shotgun blast to make sure the point got across, the Relic clattering on the ground as Qrow lost his grip on it. His hand clenched on the cane handle so hard it was shaking, and he threw that away as hard as he could.

Mercury, I am so sorry, I swear, I didn’t want to ever have to do that to you, but you left me no choice-

“ Shut up!” He snapped, voice ragged and a little too raw as he pulled his knees defensively to his chest and dug his fists into silver hair, tugging until the burn on his scalp felt like he was pulling Ozpin’s voice out of his head.

He heard footsteps come closer and looked up from his defensive curl, a knife appearing in his hand as he met Lil Red’s silver eyes, wide with concern and simmering with underlying resentment. “Professor Ozpin?”

Mercury, you have to understand, we can’t let Salem get the Relic-

He remembered a similar look on her face when she saw him walking again in the maintenance hall of Amity Colosseum. He snarled back this time, instead of a cocky smirk. “No. Come near me and I’ll rip your fucking face off.”

“Don’t talk to my sister like that!” Yang snapped, her eyes bright red as she glared at him, the Schnee keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her in line. Fucking try it, Blondie, he’d take her other arm off, they could match.

Ruby wisely took a step back, still easily too close for him to handle. “Mercury?” her hand twitched towards the gun on her back

Mercury? Will you let me explain?

“All of you shut up.” He glared at the Relic, kicking it away as he jumped to his feet. He couldn’t handle this. It was too much, too much control lost- and Emerald wasn’t there, FUCK. So much for doing her a favour. He looked at everyone, feeling cornered, skin alive with fire ants that weren’t really there and legs burning with phantom aches, and did the only thing he could do when fighting wasn’t the option.

He bolted, clearing the stairs behind him and disappearing into Haven Academy, picking a random room that wasn’t Lionhearts (he was not going NEAR a fucking Seer, no thank you) and locking the door.

Mercury, I truly am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Ozpin told him gently, and the worst thing was that he sounded like he meant it.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” Mercury snarled, and started breaking everything in the room that he could get his hands on.

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

Man, Ozpin's sections got deeper then I expected but then again the guy has identity issues for sure. Where does Ozma end and Ozpin begin? Things we will literally never know!