#i see tw and im like oh that must be some blood its okay i can see this and then i see flashing lights when i need to avoid those

[shire-ivy]

There is a special place in hell for people who says 'tw' but doesn't say what and 'credit to the artists but doesn't say who

[djljpanda]

Hello! I absolutely love your writing style it’s just so *chefs kiss*

I was wondering if I could possibly request something? (No worries if you don’t want to do it) but it’s something like the reader was sleeping/focused on something and Wednesday comes up and taps their shoulder to get their attention.

The reader gets scared and has a ptsd flashback (preferably of family abuse if that alright with you) and either just starts freaking out saying stuff like “don’t hurt me” or they get aggressive like a flight or fight response.

Thank You For The Compliment. I Hope I Did Well.

Tw/ Angst. Family abuse. Mention of starvation.

💜

School was getting to you, staying up late for homework and assignments, doing side work for your club, so yes you were tired. You just hated the feeling of being tired, you did sleep but you were never comfortable. And add that on with stress and your fear, you couldn't sleep.

You were in the Library researching for your homework. Just with reading your eyes started to close as your head fell a bit down as your body was relaxed.

Till you felt a tap at your shoulder you eyes shot up, heart racing, blood pumping, as you turned around screaming. "I'm sorry please it won't happen again. Don't hit me", but when you nothing came you notice your girlfriend.

"Y/n are you alright" "Oh um no nothing is wrong" "Y/n you just screamed and not in the good way" "Wednesday please can we just talk about something else" "Alright but Y/n I'm here if you need anything".

Before now Wednesday notice your tired self as today she tried looking for you only to see you slumped over. She only went over to see if you were okay. But your sudden outburst she grew more worried but she didn't want to push you.

When night time rolled around you and Wednesday were in your dorm finishing homework. It started get late and Wednesday can your eyes watering because of your sleepiness. "Y/n why don't we just stop here and get some sleep" "Oh well you can love Imma still finish up here" "Y/n you are worrying me". "How?" "Well by the looks of it you arent sleeping and what just happened in the Library" "Wednesday its nothing" "Y/n something is bugging you. Please just talk to me", you looked at her only to look down again. "Im scared of sleeping cause if I do they will hit me again" "Who is they if its okay for me to ask" "My parents. Being the black sheep in the family means you must be the golden child. No sleep till your done, no food till your finished, and to be locked in your room if you got any bad grades".

Without hesitation Wednesday hugged you as real tears started to come down. "I promise they will never touche you again" "Th-thank you", you said hugging her back.

That night Wednesday stood up till you were fast asleep. Next day Wednesday had gotten you a stuff animal to help you sleep. "If you ever feel scared and im not there just hug them and you will feel safe" "Thank you love for listening and helping me out" "Well Amour you can always count on me".

[illusionlockarchive]

romeos huge rant on comedy, horror, and how they interlap

ok, so. full disclosure, what got me to make this post was this joke post right here.

so the initial premise is funny, haha okay. yeah. oh youre a kid and your punishment at school is that you have to stay at a room full of wasps. its funny because its absurd. it couldnt happen irl. youd think it wouldnt happen irl. youd hope so.

the thing about comedy and horror though? is that they actually operate on very similar concepts.

and that is, the absurd. the uncanny valley. what youre expecting the least. what youre not seeing and not registering. jumpscares are effective if at least to get you to jump, even if they are cheap. meanwhile, jokes where they completely twist your expectations to get you to laugh do the same thing.

it may be hard for you to believe me, but in the end, the bad ending of tattletail is the other side of the same coin as a joke that goes “i swallowed a tablet with some water. everyone on the apple store was terrified of me.”

i have not read the wasp story, but i can guaranteee you, i CAN imagine it being scary, if the right tones are used and suspense is built up nicely. with the right twists and turns, knowing when to keep things quiet and when to blow things out of proportion.

OR it can end up being unintentionally hilarious, if the characters in it are way too cliche to be real and feel more like caricatures of teachers and students, if things are rushed and details lose their meaning and value, if we are just to focus on being an audience watching a kid get chased around by a swarm of wasps, instead of putting ourselves in their place.

im neglecting to mention something though. horror is not the TRUE other side of the coin to comedy. no, thats tragedy. and im sure many more people have heard of that. the two masks used in theater, one happy, the other sad.

and now we come to two very interesting modifiers. im sure youve heard of the term ‘horror comedy’ to refer to a subgenre of horror that does have jokes and silly things still happening, and may not take itself all that seriously. but why is it a specified subgenre? because MOST horror is tragedy.

this is why, despite liking many horror games or even stories, in the end i still dont consider myself someone who actually likes horror as a general genre. most horror focuses on the seriousness of the faults of humans, on our fragility, on all we can lose or are even bound to lose, on the fear that what we feel so confident about having close to us can be snatched away in a second, that our sense of reality can crumble. most horror? doesnt end well.

comedies in general tend to focus on the absurdity of life, on how many silly, strange, or even uncanny situations can happen that can challenge us, but not in a harsh way, but in a way that, despite so many bad things happening, we still get to point and laugh it off and be okay at the end of the day.

literally, all it takes for a tragedy to become a comedy, and vice versa, is a tonal shift. when i told of my idea to create this post to my boyfriend, he backed me up, and told me “the difference between horror and comedy is in the soundtrack and silly sound effects”. hes right.

of course, there are things that you should have the decency to not laugh at, still. to keep your mouth shut and know when to reject. but good comedy knows how to stray away from that, and good tragedy knows how to handle it respectfully without making it torture porn.

so, as horror hinges on tragedy, on the fear that we all know we must face in our lives, because a scream is as natural as laughter, so horror comedies are born as an interesting paradox.

a year or so ago, i got the opportunity to watch the banana splits syfy movie. i was a huge fan of the banana splits as a kid, and would often watch their reruns. those silly furries meant a lot to me. but im not stupid, i know thats a horror movie, i went in kinda knowing what to expect.

it was a gore fest, and for about two or three nights i had trouble getting to sleep. i wasnt actually scared of my childhood friends in animal costumes, as i knew how absurd and irrational my fear was, but just the images of the massacre being fresh in my mind were enough to send me into a panic if i lingered for too long, which can happen, you know, when youre about to sleep.

(TW FOR DESCRIPTION OF A MANS DEATH AND GORE, IF YOURE SQUEAMISH JUMP TO NEXT PARAGRAPH)

i think a scene that perfectly blurs the lines between comedy and tragedy, as well as just plain horror in it, is the scene where a man gets killed by being put in a magicians box and sliced in half as a ‘magic trick’ by fleegle, the dog. as he pleads for his life, and his soon to be wife watches in horror and pleads for the robot dog to stop (yeah theyre robots in this, weird), fleegle continues to slice him in half and blood spurts out, until he is dead, and fleegle just happily and proudly showcases what he has done, as if he just did a real magic trick.

(END TW FOR DEATH AND GORE DESCRIPTION)

watching that was horrifying, of course it was. but at the same time, it was what i wanted and expected when i thought about “banana splits horror movie”. fleegle just did something completely absurd and entirely uncalled for. and what doubles the uncaniness of it is that it was supposed to be something harmless, a magic trick. think about this if it was in an adult swim cartoon. the same thing could still happen, but be treated as just a weird, gross joke. fleegle could even swear, say ‘heres your fucking magic trick damnit! oh you dont like it, well i quit!’ n then throw his hat on the ground and step on it.

they are essentially the same scene, but the cartoon version of it is presented in a way that shows full on just how absurd and unexpected it is, without any seriousness to it, probably without any moody music to accompany it. meanwhile the movie one focuses on the fear, grief, and horror of putting us in the shoes of a woman who just watched the man she loved be killed, with the shots being extra impactful.

in the end, the banana splits syfy movie is a horror comedy though, because most of the movie is spent finding the most creative, absurd, borderline funny ways for people to be killed off. as you watch it along, you dont know whether to laugh at the weirdness and absurdity of the events or to genuinely feel grief and fear over the bodies piling up.

i could also just go over a million other examples available to me right now. in fact, as of the time im writing this, i have the latest vinesauce corruption stream pulled on youtube. during corruptions, the most bizarre and absurd things happen, and often times, things get scary. we see the video game characters we love be deformed and twisted in ways that you can only imagine hurt, but they still act as if thats normal! so you cant help but laugh.

earlier today, i watched a gameplay video of bonbon. its a short horror game, with a very... different antagonist. i wont spoil much, because, i dont want to deter people from buying it. but i will say, there is a reveal at the end, which slaps you in the face with the realization that you have been played for a fool all along, and the developers would probably laughing at you if they saw you after youve beat the game. its a joke, and the fear that they cultivated so lovingly, is the punchline. your fear becomes a punchline. to me thats one of the highest forms of blurring horror and comedy, and one i prefer to some more gory and harsh attempts.

and i mean, i have to mention fnaf here, dont i? its a great example too, particularly because, if you look at the games by themselves, they generally take themselves pretty seriously as horror stories, minus a few odd cases or references. but they just have enough wiggle room that, if you look at them from afar, as an audience, you can take these characters youre supposed to be afraid of, and have fun with them, because it is pretty damn absurd, and even funny at the end of the day, that youre expected to be afraid of essentially big, robotic childrens toys. and thats when many fun, fan renditions that focus on lighthearted situations pop up. vanny herself is pretty funny even! the idea of a person who dresses up in a full fursuit to do crimes is pretty hilarious.

all in all, i think i just really appreciate how horror and comedy can converse with each other and how that says something about how we, as humans, are easily made impressed, made to be surprised and shocked, to jump or to laugh. and we are always looking for that thrill, it just depends on if youre looking for laughs or screams.

so yeah, maybe ‘wasp room’ can be a pretty good story. is it a horror story or a comedy? we wont know until we read it. (also if you made it to the end reading this holy shit i love you , i fully recognize i talked way too much)

[hyperactivelittlebee]

Intertwined(Hermitcraft)

Notes! @gridoc Pirate AU belongs to this fantastic person! Okay so, for those reading not on the pirate au discord. (Keep in mind this info is only giant headcanon in the Pirate AU discord that Me and a few others developed on!) Mim is NPC Grian. In this AU he is a siren. His true name is Xelqua, but when he joined Doc’s crew he took on the name of Mim(A joke on Mimic because he’s a Siren who was a Mimic of Grian) And the rest of that story you can read IF YOU JOIN THE DISCORD BECAUSE ITS REALLY FUN!!~ Anyways, enjoy. TW: Descriptions of blood, violence against Sirens, Navy just being assholes, and some swearing As dark water sloshed all around him, Etho couldn't tell what was happening. One moment he was on board beside Doc- discussing plans as they left the dock- the next he was falling and drowning in the frigid, empty water. He could see the fiery red explosions of cannons going off. He could hear the muffled shouts of the others on board and gunshots ringing- bullets whizzing through the water around him. When he caught his bearings, Etho swam frantically for the surface; almost reaching it before feeling a chain snag his ankle. It dragged him down, heavy and painful making his angle burn like it was engulfed in fire. A splash was heard beside him, and before long the weight around his ankle was relieved; arms wrapping around him and dragging him to the surface. He broke the surface and ripped off his mask, gasping sharply as he gulped up the warm air. Etho swam to the beach frantically, grabbing pulling himself onto the grainy surface as he coughed and sputtered. "Etho!!" His head snapped to the voice, relieved to see familiar clear blue eyes piercing his own. The Siren was like an angel, the fire in the night outlining his true form like a halo. Mim held his face so gingerly, thumbs rubbing his cheeks with a worried expression, "M-mim- what- what happened?" His voice was shaky, still out of it, "Navy? I think- I'm not sure but whatever it is, its bad-" Etho shook his head, ears still ringing, "Shit, alright-" Mim nodded, "I will sing and lure the others I can away- you just get to Doc." Before he could respond, Mim pulled him close and kissed his lips softly, making Etho melt a bit before he pulled back, "I love you..." Something gripped at Etho's heart as he suddenly felt that separating was a bad idea- anxiety filling his gut- but he didn't listen. "I love you too." With that, Mim slipped into the water and disappeared. ___________ His sword piercing the belly of yet another Navy soldier, Etho's eyes searched the dark abyss of the water for that familiar shimmering tail. He ran to the rail, watching frantically until he recognized Mim in the water heading to the shore. Etho ran off the ship to meet him, deducing that the coast was clear. He could see Mim crawl out of the water. He could see the Navy sailor creeping up behind him. Yet His voice wasn't fast enough. "MI-" The siren looked to him, and in that moment the spear plunged into his back. The blade broke through the other side, blue blood spurting and staining the sand below, running down from the wound in thick streams. Etho watched his eyes widen in pain as a soft noise escaped his mouth. With the sickening sound of the blade being ripped out, and the sound of the Navy man sneering, he broke- everything turning red. Etho lost it. When he came to his senses, the navy soldier was barely recognizable- face bashed in with a rock that Etho didn't even know he had gotten. A pained groaned reached his ears and his attention was drawn back to Mim, eyes wide as he saw the siren lying on the beach, blood gushing from the wound in his torso. He ran to his side, frantic as he pulled Mim to him, "D-Darling?" Mim's voice was broken, leaning into Etho's hand as he cupped his face, "Yes- Yes I'm here, I'm here Mim..." Etho tried to keep his voice steady as put pressure on the wound, eyes watering, "I-it- it hur-t's-" Etho's heart broke into pieces as he gazed down at his lover, heart-clenching his pain as he tried to keep himself from breaking down, "No...No no no- You'll- You're going to be okay Mim, please..." he scooped up the small siren, holding him tight as he bolted for the ship. "Get Stress!! Please!!" Most of the crew turned from their celebration, and quickly the mood turned from joyful to solemn. Grian was the first rush over, False running to get Stress, "What happened?!" "He- He got snuck up on while shifting-" Ren ran below deck to clear a bed for them, Etho following close behind. The moment Mim was laid on the bed, in began to stain brightly with the turquoise blood, the mans heart weeping at the sight. He lent over the bed as the others rushed with supplies. "E-eth...o..." A hand cupped his face, soft as Etho began to feel warm tears slip down his face. Mim forced Etho to look at him, giving him a broken smile as blood trickled from his mouth. "It...s...Oka-y....." "No- no..." The words were breathy as Etho felt hot crimson blood slipping through his fingers, the light slowly leaving his lover's eyes. It was too much- not even yesterday he was had been gazing into the nightsky with Mim, and now his one true heart's desire was dying in his arms. "Please, you can't leave me- not yet- you promised, w-we had plans!" Stress ran down the stairs, rushing over with supplies as she nudged Etho to the side. He kneeled by Mim's face, crying as he tried to whisper sweet nothings to the other, "I love you...I love you so much Mim-" "Dancing at a ball- I-i wanted you to see beautiful lands, W-we- we wanted to get married in the summer- you wanted me to try swimming with- with dolphins and-" He whimpered quietly, "I don't w-want to be alone again..." Etho felt like a child, weeping and blabbering by his mothers side again as she bleed out of the cold wood floors. The scene so vivid in his mind- the angry shouting, the screaming on his mother as she was beat, and sobs of his father when he found her- he didn't want to be alone in these thoughts. He didn't want to be crammed in that cupboard again, watching someone rip his light from his life through a small crack in the door, frozen in fear as a meek child. It couldn't happen again. As Stress finished stitching and patching the wound, she got up and whispered something to Ren, who looked solemn. The man walked over, reaching and giving Etho’s shoulder a squeeze, "He's lost so much blood...Stress...doesn't think he'll make it-" "He will." Etho snapped, glaring at Ren, making the man falter and his ears flattened back. Without another word, he backed up and turned back to Stress, muttering quietly to her. "Et...ho...?" The pirate turned to Mim, leaning forward, "Yes?" The siren smiled softly, "Ca-can...I...ha...ve...a kiss...?" His voice was scratchy from coughing and Etho couldn't bring himself to deny the request as he leaned forward. He gently pressed his lips to Mim's gently, tears slipping down his face. When he pulled back, Mim shed one more tear. "I....l-lov....e....you..." Etho whimpered, "Xelqua..." The name was so broken and quiet as it left his lips, not yet ready to accept what was happening to his lover. His heart stopped as he watched a single breath leave his lips as he went limp. "Mim?" No response came, "Mim!!" Etho cried out in pain as he stood and shook the body, "No! NO!" He sobbed as Doc and Ren pulled him back from the body, kicking and struggling, "No! He's not dead yet!! Please!!" "Etho, its alright- he's gone, there's nothing we can do about it please-" Doc's voice was soft, heart aching at the sight of his broken friend and the siren on the bed. After a minute, Etho went limp and he sobbed- everything around him coming crashing down. "Please...I'm begging here- To whatever God is listening, Xisuma- Amusix-...please let him live...""Well that depends. Why do you want him to live?" Everyone in the room looked to a tall man in a long cloak who stood before Etho, his figure dark and imposing over them all. Without hesitation, Etho answered through sobs, "He's...I love him...I love him so much-" "Typical. But What would you do, to have him back hm?" There was a hint of amusement in the mans tone, prompting Ren to stand and draw his sword in anger, "I don't know how you got here, but I want you to leave now before I-" The man snapped his head to Ren, piercing red eyes meeting the lycans, making him freeze, "You do not scare me in the slightest, mortal." Startled, Ren backed up once more, thrown in a loop with the mans tone. He turned to Etho once more, "So?" "Anything. I would do anything..." "Even if it meant the cost of your own life?" Etho didn't need to think twice. "Yes..." The man snorted in amusement, "Then it is done." He reached toward the empty air in front of Etho before clenching his hand and pulling back firmly. Etho felt his heart tug in his chest, pain erupting as the man opened his hand to reveal a ball of red light. "This is your soul. I'm willing to make a deal with you- I'll revive him! But you must give him part of your soul. Taking your soul and giving it away will however kill you. So?" "Etho, no this- this isn't worth-" Stress began and Etho gulped, ignoring her and staring before he stood, looking the man in the eyes, "Deal." Eyes widening, the man smirked, "Then it has been done." He snapped his fingers and Etho prepared for the pain, heart racing. Pain never came. There was a soft groan and a loud gasp of air, everyone looking to the Siren as he coughed and sputtered. Etho ran beside him, embracing Mim tightly as he broke down again, "I-i..im alive?" Stress and Ren were in shock, confused as they waited for the other part of the deal to take effect. The man chuckled, looking to them, "Oh how I adore loopholes. I said giving up his whole soul would kill him- but I was only taking part~" Mim took one look at the man and gaped, "Amu? Wha...?" "I wouldn't let my best friend die on me Mim. You know this...I just wanted to test something." Amusix's eye glinted with mischief, and he turned to make his way out from the deck, "He's a keeper, Mim..." Mim glanced at the man who was sobbing into his shoulder and smiled softly, hugging him back tightly as he teared up, "Yea...he really is..."

[dustingrayves]

clean slate (1/?)

Pairing: (eventual) addcest [LPDE] & elsain [LKATh] WC this chapter: 2758 Rating: T+/M TWs: abuse/descriptive violence AU: modern/single parent Lusa (with his tiny son Arc) + runaway Esper  Notes: hi im here to ruin EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is the first multi chaptered thing i decided to actually try and write in a long time!!! its all fleshed out thanks to @lnfi, so it should be much quicker than doing it from scratch! i hope you enjoy the Pain(tm), but dw it will get better!!!! i promise Extra notes: im sorry esper

It is with a pained groan that Esper stirs again, roused by his head hitting the window. Again.

The road seems to be absolutely littered with bumps and holes, and the driver seems absolutely uncaring towards them. Esper rubs at his eyes, shadowed by dark circles, and looks around the bus. Almost everyone is fast asleep, unheeding of the soft jumps of the vehicle. Even the mother and kid in the seat before him are curled around each other, and though the mother seems visibly less comfortable than her kid, they're both deep in the land of dreams, and Esper envies them.

Why can't he curl up and sleep the journey away as well?

He knows the answer, but he feels like blaming it on the bumpy road might help him a little. It doesn't. The reason swims behind his eyelids each time he blinks, aches around his throat and wrists.

It's the road's fault.

Definitely.

It's not the fact that he feels phantom hands squeezing his throat, or harsh yanks on his hair, even when there's nothing, head covered safely with a beanie. It's the road's fault. Not the way each passing car makes his head swivel to look and make sure it's not familiar. It's the road. Not the way most of his upper body aches with bruises, hidden underneath baggy hoodie and yet still so, so tender.

Yeah, definitely the road.

He curls up into a ball on his seat, knees tucked up to his chest and head resting against the window again. The next bump doesn't jolt him, but it does still startle him, making him frown at himself and his apparent sensitivity to something so miniscule.

A car passes by them, Esper's eyes flicking to it automatically. His breath gets stuck in his throat as the lines of light move past them, but then they pass and the car is gone and he breathe out, slumping from where he'd rigidly sat up.

The road is bathed in darkness, the sun long gone, and it turns the window into more of a mirror than anything. Esper gazes at himself, impulsively pulling his hood over his face a little more when he catches sight of the large, blooming purple bruise on the side of his cheek, stark against his pale skin. He hides it even though no one else in the buss is awake.

The rest of the bruises are hidden; beneath his turtleneck, long sleeves or pants. Defiantly frowning at the window and at his own reflection, Esper pulls out the spare jacket from his backpack, carefully folding it into a pillow shape and then wedging it to the space where the seat met the window. He lays on it and it makes the vibrations and jolts a little better.

He's finally kinda dozing off when the bus comes to a slow halt. The flickering lights of a gas stop shine out the window and people slowly awaken, stretching their sore limbs and then clambering out of the vehicle.

The driver is putting up a sign at the front window, to let the passengers know when they're leaving again. Looking at the faded sign and then at his beaten up watch, Esper concludes he has about an hour.

His legs cry in happiness as he stands on them, and he can even ignore the pulsing pain in his left ankle. The crisp night air is chilly, biting at his hands even after he shoves them into the pockets of his jacket. His backpack is haphazardly thrown over his shoulder as he wanders away from the gas station.

They seem to have stopped in a small town. It's quiet, not a single soul in sight. It's only ten PM, according to Esper's beat up watch, but that is pretty late for a town like this. People are probably at homes, getting ready for bed. All the shops are closed, no lights to light the way except the street ones.

Esper's feet drag over the stone-paved sidewalk, the seaside to his left and the row of darkened shops to his left. He stops to ogle at some, spying a clothes store with a mannequin dressed in a warm looking knitted sweater.

Esper hugs his faux leather jacket around himself tighter, mentally scolding himself for leaving his favorite sweater behind, but it's been buried somewhere in the mess of his room and he didn't have the time to grab much more than what he could stuff into his backpack right away.

The price tag says thirty dollars when he squints through the glass, and he recoils, sighing. That's way more than he has, or could even think of spending on a sweater, of all things.

He wanders down the street, watching the calm seashore as the tiny waves lap at the sand, the moon shining down on it all, unobstructed thanks to the lack of clouds.

It's quiet and almost serene; for a moment, he can forget he's running away and pause to enjoy the view for a few minutes. He glances at his watch when he snaps back to himself, trying to burn the rare, nice moment into his memory.

Esper starts making his way back to the gas station, but halfway down the street, he notices someone down by the shore. He frowns, looking at the person.

Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a kid, wandering around, seemingly aimlessly.

A frown still in place, body shivering, Esper carefully slides down the side of the street upon a higher ground, making his way towards the kid. It's freezing, no kid should be running around alone in this weather. Esper notices that the small boy is barefoot as well when he gets closer, much to his horror.

"Hey," he calls out, but the kid doesn't seem to hear him. Running up, Esper crouches in front of the boy, repeating his 'hey' once more. The boy's eyes are closed, and they only flutter open wearily when Esper places a hand onto his shoulder.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Esper asks softly as the boy blinks and looks around.

"I... sleep walked again," the boy mumbles, finally looking at Esper with his big magenta eyes.

"What's your name?" Esper asks, keeping his voice soft, "We need to get you home."

"I'm Arc. Dad is gonna be worried..."

"Okay, Arc. I'm Esper. Don't worry, I'll help you get home. Do you remember the way?"

Arc looks around, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his kitty-themed pajamas. Then he slowly shakes his head. Esper can see tears welling up in his eyes. "I've never walked back from the beach on my own..."

"Hey, hey, no need to cry," Esper coos, patting his shoulder and standing up, trying his best to smile. "Let's go to the police station, I'm sure they can call your dad."

Arc sniffles, but he nods. Though when Esper turns to leave, he hesitates, tiny toes digging into the wet, cold sand.

"I'm cold..." he mumbles.

Esper is taking off his jacket before he can even really think about it, wrapping the too big article around Arc. The boy practically swims in it.

"You don't have your shoes," Esper points out, "Your feet must be freezing. Want me to carry you?"

Eagerly, Arc nods, and wraps his arms around Esper's neck when the lanky man leans down and picks him up, placing him at his hip, supporting him with one arm.

The boy isn't necessarily heavy - he's very tiny, after all - but Esper lacks much upper body strength, so it's a feat. He doesn't complain, though, doesn't even peep at the added weight.

"How old are you, Arc?" he asks, setting down the street. He'd noticed the police station when they'd stopped; it was the only place with lights still on, save for the gas station itself.

Arc curls himself against Esper's chest, warm like a water bottle, and hums into the crook of Esper's neck. "Five!" he says, almost proudly.

"Oh? You're going to school next year, huh? You're already such a big boy. Are you excited?"

"Mmhm! Dad promised to buy me a kitty backpack! I can't wait!"

Esper laughs, breath hitching as he steps more weight onto his bad foot, but it doesn't deter his enthusiasm. He can remember when he'd been small, and his mother had fretted over all his school supplies. "You really like kitties, don't you? You have them on your pajamas as well."

Arc hums again, voice bright. "They're the best! I want to have a pet kitty, but dad doesn't want to let me." There's an almost audible pout in the boy's voice.

"I think your dad wants you to be bigger so you can take care of the kitty all by yourself," Esper supplies, the words brightening Arc's eyes until they almost seem to shine on their own, without the moon's help.

"I wanna grow up faster!" Arc says, squeezing his arms around Esper's neck.

"You will, don't worry," Esper says, adjusting his hold on the boy lest he slips down. A voice from behind them catches his attention.

"You fucker!"

Esper doesn't even get to fully turn towards the angry voice before there's stinging pain in his jaw, forcing him to squeeze his eyes closed and cry out in pain. His hold on Arc slips and the boy drops to the ground, although safely.

"The fuck d'you think you're doing with my son, you pedophile?!"

Esper turns, cradling the side of his face as he feels blood bubble up in his mouth. He sees a tall, imposing figure before he's hit again, a steel-like fist driving into his stomach and knocking the wind out of him.

"Get away from Arc!" the man bellows.

Esper crumples to his knees, hugging his midriff in pain only to be kicked, falling to the ground and driving sand into the wound on his face.

"I'm sorry!" he cries, curling up on himself in hopes of appearing smaller. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Dad!" Arc cries in panic as the man kicks Esper again, driving the heel of his sneaker into his stomach.

Bile threatens to surge up Esper's throat as it constricts painfully. He keeps whimpering apologies, unsure of exactly what he's apologizing for, but it's not like that had ever stopped him before.

Arc throws himself at his dad, wrapping himself around his muscled arm and tugging. The man looks down at his son in confusion, and Esper takes the momentary reprieve to pick himself off the ground, tears painting his swollen cheeks and sobs wracking his body.

With another loud 'sorry!' he runs off, backpack forgotten on the ground as he runs away - anywhere far, where the man can't get him, where there's no more pain. The adrenaline pumping through his blood dims the pain in his ankle, but his stomach is making him double over and gasp for breath at the lip of every alley he ducks into.

Finally unable to take it, he crumbles down against a wall, head pounding and fighting back the urge to puke. Everything hurts, and he can't run anymore.

Huddling into himself, he tries to hide behind a dumpster, hoping to god that the man doesn't follow him.

When the lanky man disappears into an alleyway, Lusa kneels down next to Arc, pushing his hair to the side to look and make sure there are no bruises on him.

"Are you okay, Arc?" he asks, cupping the boy's cheek gently.

Arc smacks his hand away, much to his great confusion and, admittedly, hurt.

"How could you, dad?!" the boy cries, tears streaking down his cheeks and an angry sneer on his lips.

Lusa blinks, trying to pull the boy into a hug, but Arc pulls away like he's made of fire.

"It's okay, Arc, the bad man is gone now," Lusa mutters.

"You big meanie, dad! Esper wasn't bad! He was taking me back because I sleep walked again!" the boy cries. "How could you hurt him?! He even gave me his jacket!"

Lusa finally takes notice of the black jacket that almost hides Arc fully, so big that the boy has wrapped it around himself twice. "I- He was going the wrong way to home, I thought he was taking you away," he explains.

"We were going to the police. I don't remember the way home from here..." Arc says, but he still pushes Lusa's hand away when it reaches out to him.

The thought that he fucked up hits Lusa. He'd assumed, and he'd beaten up a kid that was just trying to help out of nowhere.

He pulls out his phone and dials the taxi service, telling them to come asap to the pier.

"Arc, I want you to go home, okay?" he tells his boy when the taxi shows up, a familiar driver waving at him. Though almost everyone is familiar in such a small town. "Don't go to sleep yet, wait for me. I will go find the man, okay?"

Arc looks at him dubiously but follows into the car with Ariel. "Don't hurt Esper anymore, dad!"

"You can pay me next time," Ariel says with a smile unfit for someone on a night shift, but that's just how she is. Lusa thanks her, and then goes to pick up the dirty backpack.

Lusa knows the town like the back of his hand, and systematically looks through the alleys the boy could've gone to. It takes him a long while, but finally, finally he finds him crumpled to the ground next to a dumpster, shivering like a leaf and passed out.

He panics, dropping to his knees and searching for a pulse on the boy's thin neck, even though he's obviously still alive, if the shivering is anything to go by.

He's scared - he'd beaten a kid to the point passing out, for fuck's sake! With shaky hands, he pulls out his phone and dials the only person who he knows can help.

Arme's voice is soft on the other side of the line, slurred a little too, indicating the man had been napping, if not sleeping already. "What is it, Lusa?"

"I- Okay, I- There's-" Lusa stammers, growling at himself for being so distraught. "An emergency, there's a, a boy. Near the pier, I don't know what to do."

Arme seems alert by the word 'emergency'. "Okay, calm down, Lusa. The boy is alive, I take it?" Lusa nods, and then chastises himself because Arme can't see him, idiot!

At his affirmative hum, Arme asks, "Is he responsive?"

"He's- He's passed out."

"Do you know what happened to him?" Arme asks, so used to this that he keeps his cool where Lusa is panicking his head off.

"I- I beat him up," Lusa admits quietly, biting at his bottom lip.

"You what?!" is Arme's immediate exclamation. Then he composes himself and says, "Okay, your house isn't far from there. Take him to your place and I'll come over to check him out."

From the rustling and Knight's voice in the background, Arme is already getting ready when he hangs up.

Lusa doesn't even put the phone away and instead dials the taxi again. Ariel comes within a few minutes, jesting that he should've just gone with Arc in the first place.

Her smile freezes on her face when she notices the limp, bloodied boy in Lusa's hold, but she's smart enough not to ask. She takes them home and Lusa leaves her a big tip, thanking her yet again as he pulls the unconscious boy out of the car and inside.

Arc is standing by the door, opening it for him when he hears him and Ariel talking. His worried gaze keeps falling on Esper.

"Dad! What did you do, dad?!" he cries, tears welling in his eyes anew.

"Shh, love, he's okay. Uncle Arme is coming over to look at him," Lusa promises, moving to the couch. "Could you fetch me one of the towels in the bathroom cabinet, please?"

Arc quite literally sprints to get it, returning with a large black towel that he spreads on the couch as per Lusa's instructions.

Esper is lowered onto it, his lax head falling backwards on the couch arm.

"Uncle Arme will fix him, right?" Arc asks, standing by the couch and draping Esper's jacket over him like a blanket. "He'll make him wake up? Why is he asleep?"

"He'll be fine, Arc, promise," Lusa says, crouching to kiss his son's forehead. Arc lets him, this time.

[artificialqueens]

just the two of us (hogwarts au) part eight - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - this is LONG AS FUCK and uh, angsty. it’s heavy. dark shit. my apologies

serious tw -

“That was horrible.” Alaska muttered, clutching her queasy stomach as she stood upright. Leaning into the Pensieve had seemed like an exciting, if a little intimidating, thing to do, but the strange journey that it took them on made Alaska feel unbelievably ill. Professor Visage gently rubbed at her back as Professor Ru began to look around the room, inquisitive. After her nausea had subsided, Alaska took a moment to properly take in her surroundings.

They appeared to be in a bedroom. Two large windows were the only source of light, as it was day, but the bleak grey skies outside made everything dull and dark, which was only accentuated by the black curtains that framed them. There was a wine-coloured rug on the floor, patterned with black, which lay in front of an ornately carved four-poster bed. A large mirror stood on the wall besides the bed, floor length and edged with real silver. Whoever the room belonged to – or whoever owned the house, it seemed – must have had a lot of money.

“Where are we?” Professor Visage asked, adjusting her bun as she watched Sharon curiously. The Slytherin girl was as quiet and nervous as she had been when Alaska had reassured her that everything would be okay. For a few seconds, she said nothing, absent-mindedly running her fingers through the white half of her hair, before clearing her throat.

“This is… my bedroom. It, uh, doesn’t look exactly like this anymore. This is an old memory.” She stuttered.

At her words, Alaska noticed that, although she could see the greyish daylight coming from the windows, the outside world was blurry, shifting and changing like the strange mist that curled around in the Pensieve. It must have been because they were inside a memory, Alaska realized. All they could see was what Sharon had seen and remembered.

“What-” Professor Ru started, but was cut off by the door slamming open.

A stout woman with harsh lines in her aged face entered the room, dressed in a cheap-looking slate dress and a stained apron. She was clearly some kind of maid, and she looked extremely unforgiving. Behind her, she held a young girl by her forearm, the skinny little thing too small to fight her away. The maid dragged her into the room and roughly flung her to the ground, staring down at her with her beady eyes.

“What have you been told about sneaking around?!” She demanded, nostrils flaring. The little girl on the floor didn’t respond.

“Answer me!”

“Not to do it!” The little girl said quickly.

The maid sneered. “And what were you told about using spells that haven’t been authorized by your parents?”

“N-Not to do it.”

“Dear, oh dear,” The maid tutted, an expression of sadistic delight on her face. She seemed to be enjoying the fear she was instilling into the tiny girl on the floor. “Lord and Lady Needles won’t like this, not one bit.”

“No!” The little girl cried, cowering. “I promise I won’t do it again, I’ll be a good girl, I will! Please don’t tell them!”

Alaska realized with a jolt that the little girl – that unbelievably small girl, with pale skin and thick eyelashes framing her wide, terror-filled blue eyes and pure black hair cascading down her back – was Sharon, many years ago. She didn’t look older than seven years old, and was heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.

“You’ll be a good girl, will you? You won’t do it again?” The maid quoted her, putting on a horrible falsetto voice to mimic Sharon’s younger voice.

“Lies!” She spat, aiming a kick at younger Sharon. She winced and let out a yelp, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

“You say it every time. You’ll be a good girl. You won’t do it again. Are you a liar? Are Lord and Lady Needles raising a filthy liar, who’s going to run amok with contaminated blood? Are Lord and Lady Needles raising a traitor who’s going to associate herself with mudbloods and muggles, and those of impure status?”

Younger Sharon was shivering, sobbing bitterly and silently. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t! I’ll be good, I really will! Please don’t tell them!”

“Lord and Lady Needles won’t like this at all.” The maid said ominously, and slammed the door shut as she left, locking it with one of the large keys that hung from her belt. Younger Sharon slowly rose from the floor and over to the four-poster bed, which completely dwarfed her. When she caught sight of her reflection in the tall mirror, she burst into fresh tears and buried her face in the pillow, muffling her cries.

The real Sharon watched, her lips pursed, before turning away and letting out a long, shuddering breath. Alaska’s heart ached for her, and although she knew it wasn’t much, she put her arms around Sharon’s waist and held her in her embrace. Professor Visage, who was completely choked up, placed a hand on Sharon’s back as she and Professor Ru turned to face the Slytherin girl.

“I hated her.” Sharon muttered darkly, staring at the floor. “I really fucking hated her.”

She let out a short, mirthless bark of laughter. “She’s dead now. She died last year. It’s awful of me to say, but I didn’t care in the slightest.”

Alaska bristled. Why should she care? The woman was vile, clearly, to treat such a young child that way. She shouldn’t have been able to get away with it. If there was anything Alaska could do, she would do it in an instant. But there was nothing. What was done was done. All she could do was provide some semblance of comfort in the form of her love and affection, and she knew that was a supply which would never run dry.

“Her name was Ethel, and she was a Squib that they took on as a maid, but only because she had certain… connections. She was useful. I hated her with every fibre of my being, and still do.” Sharon explained. “Hold on, it’s shifting.”

Around them, the white mist began to seep in from the edges of the room, transporting them away into the next horrific memory. Alaska groaned and clutched her middle again, the nausea lessening as she got used to the sensation, but still making her feel slightly woozy.

They landed in the same room as before, Sharon’s bedroom, only this time it was night. It must have been from the same day, because the younger Sharon was sat in the middle of her bed, the covers pulled over her legs, her face streaked with tears but a mask of stillness, like she didn’t want to betray any emotion. Judging from her change of clothes, she was in pyjamas too. A crystal chandelier overhead cast the room into golden light. Before anyone could speak, the door to Sharon’s room opened.

Another woman entered the room, but it wasn’t Ethel the cruel maid. This one was tall and stately, dressed in a long black coat that was fastened from her neck all the way to the floor. Her hair was the same midnight black as Sharon’s, styled in an impeccable updo on her head with a black netted fascinator hanging low over part of her face. Her gaze was severe, her eyes the same shade of blue as Sharon’s. She even had the same cleft in her chin. If Alaska didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn that this woman, with her regal poise and devastating beauty, was an older, harsher Sharon. Their resemblance was uncanny.

“Lady Needles.” Professor Ru whispered, recognising the woman. Sharon nodded briefly, not tearing her eyes away from the younger version of herself, who sat rigid as Lady Needles approached the chair by her bedside.

“Sharon,” She began, her smile and her tone sickly sweet. It sent chills down Alaska’s spine, and she tightened her grip around the real Sharon’s waist.

“I heard you’ve been misbehaving again, is this true? Be very sure not to lie to me.” Lady Needles said, her words laced with danger.

“I-I didn’t…” Sharon mumbled.

“What was that?” Lady Needles replied, clearly having heard her. “We do not mumble, Sharon. We are honest. And we do not misbehave. Now, would you like to try again?”

“I…I…”

Lady Needles tutted at her. “This won’t do at all. Here,” She waved her wand, wordlessly summoning a glass barely larger than the average shot glass, filled with a clear liquid. With a movement that seemed effortlessly graceful, she offered the glass to Sharon.

“I don’t want it.” Sharon shook her head. “It tastes nasty.”

“A nasty drink for a nasty little girl.” Lady Needles said, and held the glass out again. “Drink.”

Sharon clamped her lips shut and shook her head again.

“Fine.”

Lady Needles took hold of her wand once more and wordlessly charmed the glass to hover on its own. Then, faster than Alaska had ever seen anybody move, she pinched Sharon’s nose so that she would open her mouth to breathe and forcefully grabbed her chin, wrenching her mouth open. Sharon tried to fight, utterly helpless in the situation, and Alaska watched in utter horror as Lady Needles charmed the drink to pour into her open mouth. When the glass was emptied, she released Sharon and smiled wickedly as she coughed and spluttered, her eyes watering.

“Now, Sharon.” She said, nauseatingly pleasant. “Tell me again. I heard from Ethel that you’ve been misbehaving again, is this true?”

It was as if Sharon’s tongue had been completely loosened. “Yes it is. I was bored stuck here in my room so I wandered away and went into one of the forbidden rooms to read some books that I’m not allowed to read. Then I tried to use my wand to change the colour of my hair, but Ethel caught me with the book and my wand and she punished me. I told her not to tell you.”

Instantly she regretted it, clapping her hands over her mouth as her eyes grew wide and fearful. The potion’s effects wore off and the terror that registered on Sharon’s young face broke Alaska’s heart.

Lady Needles raised her eyebrows, not at all looking surprised. “So you broke the rules and tried to lie to your own mother about it? Are you as shameful and immoral as those wretched half-bloods, the mudbloods, the dirty muggles?”

“No!” Sharon protested. “I’m not shameful or im-im-!” She shook her head, unable to pronounce ‘immoral’. “And neither are the half-bloods and the muggleborns and the muggles!”

Next to Alaska, the real Sharon lowered her head and seemed to curl into herself, disheartened by the scene in front of her. Alaska let her bury her head into her shoulder, stroking her hair and whispering inaudible words of comfort as she continued to watch.

“Is that so, Sharon? How many muggles, mudbloods and half-bloods do you happen to know?”

“N-None.” Sharon stammered.

“Exactly.” Lady Needles said. “For your own protection. Everything we do, your father and I, is for your benefit. It would serve you well not to be ungrateful. We can leave you for the wolves as easily as we protect you from harm.”

She stood up, stretching to her great height, and walked out of the room.

“Sharon-” Professor Visage began.

“Don’t.” Sharon cut her off immediately, holding up her hand. “I don’t wanna hear it. L-Let it move on.”

This time, they were stood in a long, narrow room with tall arched ceilings and enchanted gargoyles in each of the four corners. In the middle of the room, there stood a long table, splattered with blood, in which around twenty witches and wizards were gathering, their faces shrouded by hoods. Alaska shivered; they reminded her of the horrible images that were in her magical history textbook, depicting some of the worst wizard terrorists in history. It didn’t seem quite real.

“Where are you?” She asked, realising she could only see the real Sharon and not a younger version of her. Sharon pointed towards what appeared to be a tall, dark oak cabinet at the other end of the room, behind where Lady Needles was standing. Slowly, the group of four made their way closer to the table, getting the best view of the disguised wizards and Lady Needles that they could.

“What about your daughter, my lady? She’ll be getting sworn in, won’t she?” A nameless figure asked.

Lady Needles turned, ever so slightly, to face the speaker. “When she’s older, yes. At present she’s eleven, and due to start Hogwarts next week.”

Low, dark sniggers rippled from the gathered wizards. One speaker – yet another with her face obscured – spoke up.

“Hogwarts? They’ll fill her mind with all their liberal education that they teach now. You’ll want to keep her out of there.” She said.

Professor Visage shook her head, clenching her fists. On the contrary, Professor Ru didn’t seem affected by it at all. She simply watched, placing a hand on Professor Visage’s arm to placate her.

“My daughter and her education are none of your business.” Lady Needles snapped, her glare intensifying. “Hogwarts is the best school for magical education and my daughter will be continuing the family legacy as she attends. I trust that her mind won’t be tainted by her professors, but there’s years to go in which we can privately educate her as well. However, she will still be attending in order to become the strong witch she needs to be for her swearing in. That’ll happen when she’s seventeen or eighteen.”

Another figure piped up. “Eighteen? Why have our children been sworn in already? Lila and Tony are six and eight!”

“Your children are not my children.” Lady Needles answered simply.

She turned again, beginning to speak on some topic that Alaska couldn’t quite grasp, before she heard a whisper. One of the hooded figures was leaning towards another, murmuring something in their ear. Alaska could barely hear it despite her proximity – all she heard was the word ‘Sharon’ – but Lady Needles seemed to have no problem. She whipped around, pointing her wand accusingly at the speaker.

“You!” She demanded. “You’re not afraid to speak, are you? I heard my daughter’s name, please share your thoughts with us all.”

She spread her hands in a show of welcome, a glint of cold malice in her steely eyes. Sharon bit her lip at the expression, clearly having seen it many times before.

“I-I was just discussing a rumour that I heard.” The man stammered, sounding petrified. “I k-know it won’t be true…”

Lady Needles considered him. “Speak, then.”

“T-That your daughter, Sharon – she’s been rebelling. I’m sure it isn’t tru-”

Lady Needles raised one eyebrow. “Whoever you’re hearing these rumours from would make an apt spy. She has been causing trouble recently, trying to change her hair and arguing against our principals. She’ll learn in good time, and if she doesn’t…”

She twirled her wand between her fingers, graceful yet threatening at the same time. “We have our ways of persuasion.”

Alaska felt sick. She balled her fists, practically quivering, knowing her face was turning red but not particularly caring.

“Don’t.” Sharon told her gently, forcing her to unclench her muscles. “Don’t stress yourself out. It’s okay.”

Alaska shook her head. “Boo, it’s not okay! Look at this, this is crazy! What’s even happening?”

Professor Ru and Professor Visage tore their eyes away from the meeting and looked at Sharon for her explanation. The Slytherin counted her breaths, taking three long, slow ones in and out before she decided to talk.

“I guess you can kinda tell that they run a… a secret society. And it really is a society – they have codes, signals, rules, ideals. It’s like a mixture of a cult, a society and a religion. They want mass-muggle genocide, all muggleborns to be stripped of their wands, squibs to be enslaved and half-bloods to work as lesser beings. They do cruel experiments on magical creatures. They… I don’t need to say anymore than that. It’s fucking stupid.” She swore vehemently, not caring that two professors were listening to her. “My mother… she wanted me to take her place one day, when she’s too old, and until then I would just be a superior member. I’ve been acting up since I was a child, I’ve never agreed. Things are different now, obviously…”

She trailed off, seemingly having said too much. Her eyes widened, and Alaska was struck by how much Sharon looked like, well, the younger version of herself. The wide eyes reminded her painfully of the expression on seven-year-old Sharon’s face, and although nine years had passed it was alarming to see the similarities.

“What did she mean about your hair?” Professor Visage asked, but Sharon waved her away.

“It’s all bullshit. The entire Needles bloodline – we’re going back thousands of years here, even before the witch burnings – has had the same thick, dark black hair. It’s something to do with family pride and distinction, I don’t even know. Same eyes and same hair. Hence why mine looks like this.”

She ran a nervous hand through the white side of her locks, tucking it behind her ear. Alaska hadn’t even realised how intelligent Sharon could be until she listened to her speaking about her family, that low, rasping voice incomparably soothing in spite of her words. She’d always known she was clever, but this was something else.

Before any of the four could speak again, there came a loud shrieking yowl, that sounded vaguely like a cat. At the same time as their group froze, except for Sharon, the assembled witches, wizards and Lady Needles herself cocked their heads, frowning at the sound. For what seemed like the millionth time, Sharon held her breath.

Without a word, Lady Needles turned to face the cabinet behind her and flung the doors open. Alaska gasped, along with the witches and wizards gathered at the table, as she recognised the girl inside.

This Sharon must have been eleven, as Lady Needles had said. She wore a high-necked olive shirt with long sleeves, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. Her hair was the same white-and-black as it had been the day Alaska had met her – a week after this had happened, she realized. In her arms, she clutched a large Kneazle that Alaska recognised as Cerrone, who had caused all the chaos during the day. His fur and Sharon’s fingers were stained with blood that flowed from a wound in his side. She looked stricken, her mouth slightly open and her eyes round with fright. A few seconds passed where neither mother nor daughter moved an inch.

Alaska’s heart jumped into her mouth as Cerrone suddenly leapt forwards, as he had done at Phi Phi, towards Lady Needles. She stopped him mid-jump with her wand, flicking him so he landed hard against the stone wall before screeching and running away. Sharon’s arms were outstretched, frozen in her attempt to grab at the Kneazle, when Lady Needles directed her gaze back to her daughter

“Cerrone!” Sharon shouted, then looked nervously at her mother. “I-”

“Found a friend, have you?”

Sharon swallowed. “I could h-hear him meowing from one of the locked doors, so I unlocked it and found him amongst all these other animals, that had all been m-mutilated and cut up… but he was still alive, so I did what I could to rescue him.”

Even though she was stammering, it was awe-inspiring how daring she was, facing up to the towering figure as an awkwardly skinny eleven year old.

“He has a name, too?” Lady Needles challenged.

“Cerrone.” Sharon said again. “A-After the rockstar.”

“How charming.” Lady Needles watched Sharon with evil distaste. “A muggle. Sharon, you’re aware of our rules against creatures, aren’t you?”

Sharon nodded, sticking her chin out in the same obstinate way she did in lessons. “Yes, but I was reading about Kneazles and actually, they-”

Lady Needles cut her off, swiftly pressed her wand to Sharon’s neck. “Where exactly did you find the resources to read about Kneazles?!”

Sharon flattened herself against the cabinet. “I-It was in the curriculum books that I need for Hogwarts! I j-just wanted to get a h-head start, so I can carry on the l-legacy and b-be a good st-student! I swear it is, it is, it really is!”

Alaska knew immediately that Kneazles weren’t mentioned in any of the required textbooks for first years. They were only mentioned in the care of magical creatures book, which first years didn’t have access to. Thankfully, Lady Needles appeared to believe her.

“Sharon. I will tell you this once, and only once, so you’d be wise to listen.” Lady Needles threatened, pressing the tip of her wand into Sharon’s neck even further. “I will not see you with that animal again. I will not catch you sneaking around and listening in. Have I made myself explicitly clear?”

Sharon gulped. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes.” Sharon said defiantly.

Lady Needles narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Leave.”

She pointed towards the door in which Sharon’s beloved Cerrone had scrambled away through. Ducking her head to avoid the stares of the hooded figures, Sharon began to slowly walk towards the exit. She had taken less than five steps before her mother grabbed her by the newly-whitened section of her hair and yanked her backwards.

“You look like a filthy muggle whore with this. How dare you present yourself like this.” Her tone was low and foreboding.

Sharon rubbed gingerly at her head where Lady Needles had pulled at her, carefully avoiding where her mother’s hands were still gripping her.

“I don’t know how to change it back, there was some potion-”

Her words were cut off by a short, harsh slap that sent her to the ground. The sound echoed horribly in the narrow room, and Sharon’s bloody hands were instantly clutching at her flaming cheek, her eyes watering but her lips set in a hard line.

“Get out of my sight, you disgrace.” Lady Needles spat.

Sharon didn’t need telling twice. The young girl bolted.

The tension in the air was so thick it could have been cut by a knife. Alaska was completely incensed, seconds away from tearing forwards and attempting to beat Lady Needles to a pulp, even if it was only a memory and the real woman would not be affected. Her girlfriend – Alaska’s girlfriend, and one of her best friends for years  - had been treated like this for years, and yet had still continued on with her life, laughing like normal and never mentioning the darkness that shrouded her personal life. In conversations about family, Sharon always laughed about strict rules and curfews and punishments like she lived the same life that, say, Willam lived, or Alaska. Never once had there been so much as a hint, a crack in the facade, of what really went on. Not up until now.

“So,” Sharon tried to break the ice once more. “When am I getting sent to the St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries psychiatric ward? Fucked up, right?”

Her joke didn’t go down too well. Alaska scowled, mainly at what had just happened, and both Professor Ru and Professor Visage frowned.

“Okay, I shouldn’t joke.” She said meekly, shuffling her feet. “But… it’s too messy to even comprehend. How else am I supposed to store this shit away? I can’t let it affect me.”

Professor Visage waved her finger. “No, Sharon. Don’t say that. Not letting it affect you is the very reason you ended up in my office sobbing your heart out over sixteen years worth of horrific pain and suffering that got gradually worse. Pretending you were fine, and telling no one until someone had an inkling that things might not be normal at home, is the exact reason you broke down in front of me.”

Alaska winced, knowing that would be a stab to Sharon’s pride. Sure enough, the Slytherin pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest, side-eyeing Professor Visage.

“I didn’t break down.” She muttered darkly. “I just got a little upset. I didn’t fucking break down.”

Wordlessly, Alaska rubbed Sharon’s lower back, knowing it was useless but could provide the slightest bit of comfort to her.

“You were vulnerable, Sharon. Something none of us have seen before. You needed to be vulnerable for us to help you.” Professor Visage said earnestly. Professor Ru nodded in agreement.

Sharon was shaking her head before Professor Visage had even finished, her eyes famously rolling. “Great fucking idea. I’ll be vulnerable, shall I? I’ll be vulnerable when my family and their fucked-up cult of racist classists who are against everything that makes me me want me dead, shall I? I’ll be vulnerable after enduring literal torture that you most likely will never experience in your whole lifetime. I’ll be vulnerable, and in the meantime of being vulnerable I’ll just give them full access to-to-”

She had started gesturing wildly, her face flushed. In the midst of speaking, she grabbed Alaska’s hand.

“-to my girlfriend! To my friends, to my teammates, to my teachers! Sounds like a really great idea, Professor Visage, thank fuck for that!”

Professor Ru stepped forwards to intervene. “I, as well as Professor Visage, have your safety as our main priority, and in doing so we need you to be open with us so we can help you, that’s all we’re saying.”

Sharon closed her eyes, exasperated. “I don’t fucking care, I don’t fucking care.” She chanted, getting increasingly aggravated.

“Sharon, you can’t behave like this. I know-”

“Put me in a detention then, so I can break down again.” She seethed, throwing her arms up into the air.

Alaska had had enough. She cupped Sharon’s overheated face with her cool hands and stared into her eyes, her heart breaking when she saw the pain hidden in the blue irises. How had she never seen it before? How had she never realized that behind that gap-toothed smile and the husky cackle and the oceanic eyes, there lay suffering and anguish beyond belief?

“Breathe with me. Just for a second. Breathe with me.” She instructed. Sharon looked like she was going to protest, but said nothing.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re scared and angry because you’re just now realizing the weight of the situation, and you want to protect us from how badly you’ve been hurt. Whatever’s coming next, you don’t want us to see it because you’re afraid and you know it’s the worst one yet. But this is just it, Sharon. It hurts us that you’ve been hurting for so long. I love you, Sharon. I love you. And there are so many people out there who love you too. This is shitty now, but when it’s over, we can work on getting you out of that home, and into somewhere safe where you’ll be properly loved, the way you deserve to be. Don’t you get it?”

After a long pause, Sharon nodded infinitesimally. “I love you. I’m sorry. I…”

She swallowed. “I left out a lot of stuff from a few years ago because you don’t want to see it all. But this one is the worst of them all. I…I’m sorry.”

For the final time, the white mist began to curl around them. Alaska braced herself as best as she could, but she knew nothing would prepare herself for it. Just when she thought they had been encompassed in white for a little too long, the dreamy silence was pierced by a high-pitched scream, and the four of them were thrown into a scene like no other.

There were hundreds of details Alaska could’ve focused on, but all she saw was Sharon. Her girlfriend, the same age she was now, looking no different than the real version of her who clung to her hand like a vice. She was lying on her back in the centre of the floor, her arms and legs splayed outwards, her face bruised and bloody. Lady Needles and a tall, dark-haired man – Alaska could only hurriedly assume this was Lord Needles – stood over her, their wands pointed at her defenceless body. Each time one of them yelled some kind of obscenities at her, the other performed the Cruciatus curse.

Sharon screamed again, her body arching off the floor as she screwed up her face in agony. Her limbs jerked and jolted beyond her control, with endless streams of tears running down her abused face. Letting out another loose scream as the curse hit her, she arched again only to be pushed violently down by her father’s foot. In between curses, they spoke to her, letting the agony subside just a little before continuing their torture.

“NO! NO, PLEASE! DON’T DO IT AGAIN!”

Her pleas only invited cruel laughs, eliciting another dose of horrendous pain and a deafening cry.

“NO, I WON’T DO IT AGAIN! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!” She begged, her voice sounding nothing like Sharon. If Alaska hadn’t been watching, she wouldn’t have even known that girl was her own girlfriend.

“I WON’T TELL ANYBODY, I SWEAR ON MY LIFE I WON’T! PLEASE DON’T DO IT AGAIN!” She flinched as two wands pointed in her direction yet again. “PLEASE, NO! I’M SORRY!”

Just as Sharon writhed and screamed again, a sound that tore Alaska’s heart to pieces, she blinked and was stood in Professor Ru’s office once more. Next to her, Sharon was sobbing bitterly.

“Fuck,” She whispered, wiping uselessly at her tears with her sleeves. “I’m sorry, I can’t – shit, fucking shit. It-it cuts off there, I couldn’t…”

She’d seemingly lost the ability to string sentences together. Alaska realized her own eyes were watering, and even Professor Visage and Professor Ru were in tears. With her remaining strength, she wrapped her arms around Sharon’s waist and cried into her shirt, feeling the older girl’s tears wetting her hair. It wasn’t like her hair was her biggest concern in that moment.

“W-What happened? To the memory?” Professor Visage managed to stutter.

Through her tears, Sharon managed to answer. “I-I passed out. From the p-pain. But I know t-that they kicked me after that, and left me b-bleeding onto that floor.”

“I will never let them touch you again.” Alaska swore. “I said it before, but now I’ve seen that I know for sure. I fucking dare them to try and get you.”

Sharon hugged her back. “Don’t say t-that, pumpkin. I don’t want them to h-hurt you.”

“They won’t.” Professor Ru said, much more calmly than the rest of them. “They won’t hurt anyone else again. It’ll take time, but you can have faith that this will be fixed.”

Sharon nodded gratefully.

“Now if you want, you two can get out of here.”

The pair left the office as quickly as they could, refusing to let their hands disconnect as they walked. Night had long since fallen, and the castle was dark and conveniently empty.

“Thank Satan, thank God, thank Allah, thank Jesus, thank Buddha, thank fucking Bunny, thank-”

Alaska cut off Sharon’s rambling, pecking her cheek and then her lips. “I get it. I get it.”

Sharon giggled, just a little. That was an improvement.

“Your makeup is terrible.” Alaska smiled at her.

“So is yours.” Sharon squeezed her hand. “Stay the night with me?” Alaska scoffed. “As if I was gonna let you sleep alone. We’re going to my dorm, come on.”

“Alaska?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I say this enough. I’m sorry I dragged you into this, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be a normal, steady girlfriend but most importantly…I love you.”

“I love you too, Sharon.”