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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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THE SECOND TASK

Before Lily could take the book, she decided to pass the child along to his father. She'd seen some of the often pained looks he'd been getting lately and understood more than anyone what he'd be feeling, and James wasn't going to argue as he eagerly cradled his care.

Lily may have taken the book with a friendly enough smile, but she was not fool enough not to realize that second task was fast approaching, and she did not want the honors of enduring whatever that was. Still, it was her or somebody else she'd have to be listening to, and at least this way she could more easily cut the boys off when she felt like it.

Hermione was scolding Harry that he'd told he'd figured out his egg long ago.

"He said he was very close," Sirius corrected and defended Harry at once.

"And she can't really think he would have figured it out and not told them," James agreed.

Harry told her to keep her voice down, and he hadn't really been lying, he just needed some time to hammer out the details.

"You mean figure out the whole second part of it," Remus muttered.

The three friends were currently having this discussion in their Charms class, and with all the commotion of the rest of the class it was a good place to have this conversation. Today they were working on the opposite of the Summoning Charm, the Banishing Charm, and the object was to try and target pillows into a box on Flitwick's desk, the idea in this being if the pillows hit anyone at least it wouldn't hurt.

"Clearly Professor Flitwick has never had a pillow fight with Padfoot," Remus absently rubbed his throat in remembrance as he explained, "he goes for the jugular no matter what weapon's in his hand."

"You deserved it for trying to smother me with yours," Sirius said back instantly.

"What even caused that fight?" James asked, trying to spin his mind back to before feathers had flown.

"Sirius wouldn't go to sleep, nothing too unusual," Remus shrugged.

"Oh I remember," Sirius snapped his fingers, "I was trying to figure out why your name is plural. Why is it James, more than one Jame? What happened to the other?"

"Okay, I need another pillow," Remus grumbled, but trying to force past all of Lily and Harry's combined giggling, Lily managed to keep herself going.

Which was all good in theory, but then there were those like Neville with such horrid aim he was more likely to hit other objects than said pillows, like the Professor.

Breaking up the boys argument as well so that now everyone was trying to laugh and listen at the same time.

Harry told Hermione to drop the egg for a moment, he was trying to explain about the rest of his night.

"A much more important topic I'd like resolved," James instantly agreed, honestly wishing the teachers were the most interesting thing to think about this year rather than his son being in that tournament.

Ron was stunned that Moody had searched Snape's office, not paying a bit of attention to his own spellwork and banishing Parvati's hat off her head.

"Ron clearly has the useful aspects of this spell down," Sirius snickered.

Asking if Moody was here to watch Snape as well as Karkaroff?

"If so, he's doing a terrible job," Lily rolled her eyes, still smarting over his treatment of Hermione and Neville as much as Harry.

Harry admitted he didn't know if Dumbledore was telling Moody to do so,

"If so, then Dumbledore just got a lot more interesting," Remus arched a brow, thinking Dumbledore should trust his staff enough he should never have done this, but then again Dumbledore had also hired a Death Eater, so that man was as unpredictable as it could get.

but Moody was doing it anyways. Harry was paying no more attention to where his pillow was headed, so it instead did a belly flop off the desk.

More giggles for that lovely mental image.

Harry continued by repeating that Snape was apparently here on a second chance.

Ron asked if it was possible it had been Snape putting Harry's name in the Goblet?

They were all in such a good mood, nobody wanted to sit and dwell on how that could honestly be a very real possibility. They certainly hated him enough to believe he'd done it, but they had no more proof it was him than anyone else, so no one tried to say otherwise.

Harry most of all felt deep inside him that this answer wasn't even close...but something in that sentence felt like it should be...

Hermione told him off for that, reminding of the last time Ron had tried to blame their woes on Snape, and he'd in fact been saving Harry's life.

James' nose crinkled in agitation at the reminder, he'd called himself even with Snape in gratitude for that, but he'd done nothing since then but treat his son, well like he'd treated him so he was far from liking the guy, and that was before what he'd done to Remus and tried to do to Sirius.

Even while chatting, Hermione perfectly aimed her cushion into the box they were supposed to be aiming for.

"Oh, you were actually supposed to be aiming for something?" Remus asked with a strained smile, looking for something to laugh about again. "I'd never have guessed the way you and Ron were casting around."

Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

Harry considered what Hermione said, but couldn't quite rule him out as a suspect as the man had never likened himself to Harry in any way shape or form by never missing an opportunity to have Harry suspended.

"Suspended," Sirius scoffed, "is too kind, he'd have you expelled the second he could get away with it."

"No matter how many times I see it, I still can't believe he's so petty he treats Harry like James," Remus snapped in agreement.

Hermione said she didn't care what Moody did, Dumbledore wasn't a fool. He trusted Hagrid and Lupin, when no one else would, so he must have a reason for Snape as well.

"I don't think those comparisons should count," James grumbled, drawing his wand and creating a few colorful puffs of smoke to amuse his kid, at least someone in here deserved to be having fun since the mere mention of Snape had ruined theirs. "Moony and Hagrid aren't gits who treat children like his personal voodoo dolls."

Lily sighed, still wishing more than anything that wasn't true, but knowing it was didn't make it hurt less. She wished she could disagree, that Snape being a Death Eater really was his only fault, but after everything he'd done, she honestly agreed with the boys he was past redemption taking whatever his problem was out on those kids.

Trying to say even if Snape was a bit-

Ron cut her off by stating he was pure evil. What other reason did all of these Dark wizard catchers have to be snooping around him?

"And yet not one of them could find anything," Sirius sighed in disappointment. "What is the matter with our justice system they could get rid of me, but not him!"

James would have reached around and smacked Sirius senseless for that joke he still hated if he hadn't been holding baby Harry. Remus also temporarily considered cursing Sirius, but chose to ignore him rather than acknowledge that.

Hermione moved on to ask about why Crouch would be acting ill? It was all very odd of him to be doing that while having missed the Yule Ball.

"One of our main main problems right now, yes," Lily agreed.

Ron told her she was being to uptight about Crouch because of how he treated Winky while one of his pillows hit a window.

Hermione snapped back Ron just wanted to blame everything on Snape, while sending another pillow into the box.

"Got to be impressed with Hermione's skill of multitasking at least," Sirius put a winning smile in place to stop his two friends glaring at him. "She's arguing and still managing to keep at her work."

Harry belayed both of them by asking the real question, why was Snape on his second chance? What had happened to his first one? He'd waved his wand carelessly while speaking, but to his surprise his cushion had landed where it was supposed to.

"Apparently Harry can to," James laughed in surprise.

Adhering to Sirius' wish of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts,

"Oh yeah, I think this qualifies," Remus gave an odd smile, thinking, 'he can't do anything worse than come back, right?'

Harry sent him a letter telling of his midnight experience.

"Can't wait to hear that response," James muttered without enthusiasm, silently agreeing with Remus, Sirius could do something equally as stupid like try dogging Crouch next to see what he was up to, he wouldn't put it past him.

Harry then turned his attention to his real problem of breathing underwater for an hour.

"The only thing I can think of," Lily sighed, "is a potion to turn you semi aquatic, but that's so advanced for you dear."

"Same with Transfiguration," James scowled, his mind trying to go back to something lower level that could help Harry out, but he was drawing a blank.

Harry had previously mentioned aqua-lungs to Ron, and he offered up the idea of Harry summoning one of those to him.

Sirius turned to explain the concept to James while Remus adamantly shook his head and said quickly, "no offense, but I hope you don't follow that advice. Mostly because you are so far away from anything Muggle, I don't think even Dumbledore could summon something from so far away."

James looked disappointed, now that he knew what these things were they sounded really cool, he'd have liked to hear about Harry using one.

Hermione pointed out all the flaws of this, like Harry would have to learn to use one in under an hour,

"You mean you can't just slip it on?" Harry asked in surprise.

"You might try and let the teachers let you go to the nearest Muggle place so you can buy one," Sirius offered. "Then you'd have time to practice."

"Much less fun than stealing it and making it up on the fly," James pouted even if he did agree.

plus the act of Summoning it would most likely draw Muggle notice flying from where ever it was.

"A fairly good point," Lily chuckled.

Hermione offered Harry should try and Transfigure himself into a submarine or something,

"Machines are harder to pull off then animals," James shook his head in disagreement.

but that might be beyond Harry as they didn't start human transformations until sixth year.

Harry agreed he didn't fancy trying, he'd likely end up with a periscope sticking out of his head forever.

"Such a missed opportunity," Sirius smirked.

Harry suggested he should piss off Moody, he'd turn him into something

All four of them started laughing raucously, Harry's continued fear of being Transfigured because of that instant still hadn't worn off in hilarity.

but Hermione corrected she doubted Moody would let him choose his Transfiguration in a very serious voice.

Sirius was still to busy getting his breath back to make his favorite joke, in fact his laughter had doubled that Hermione had thought Harry meant that as more than a joke.

She insisted Harry should try a Charm to work this problem out,

Lily huffed and pouted she couldn't think of one to help with this.

so Harry resigned himself to another seemingly endless bout of page flipping in the library.

"Most students reach that conclusion by their first year," Remus agreed, "and you seem to double the amount of time you spend in there above them."

Harry tried everything revolving the text, even going to ask McGonagall if he could peruse the restricted section, even asking the librarian Pince for advice, but still found nothing that would help him to live underwater for even an hour.

"This is not encouraging," James started to frown, getting a little twitchy at his own blank mind. This felt like a real laps in his magical education that above some high level magic, some kid could have fallen in the lake in all these years and could have drowned because Hogwarts had never taught them to survive the instance. True when this had happened the giant squid was prone to save people, but that wasn't the point right now.

"I'm sure there must be something," Sirius groaned as he ran his hand through his hair, "I know I've heard of people visiting mermaid villages before, so it is doable."

Harry could feel that old feeling of panic seizing him again, now watching the lake on the grounds in a whole new light. He'd always looked to it as a bit of scenery, never before really seeing the stone gray surface like a deep void.

Remus started fidgeting with the sleeve of his robes, his eyes squinting at nothing, but it really was frustrating them they were drawing a blank on this matter as much as Harry. Not to mention they already had some unpleasant memories about that stupid lake nearly having been the sight Sirius had been Kissed, so they weren't keen on Harry having to be back near it.

Time started jumping in intervals again, weeks turning into days and Harry growing more and more desperate to find something, anything!

Lily's voice was starting to get pitchy in concern, she really had no clue what was going to happen to her baby if he couldn't go through with this task. The magical binding contracts of the Tournament forcing Harry to participate in these contests were the reason he couldn't voluntarily leave, but what would it do if Harry just wasn't able to complete a task? Would his magical core be damaged just because of some stupid event like this?!

With two days left Harry started to go off food again.

After James accidentally released a foul smelling gas from his wand that was mustard yellow, he quickly tucked it away and decided enough of that game, and instead starting bouncing his toddler around on his knee, managing to keep him happy and thump out his nerves all at once.

The only bright spot he had left before the 24th was Sirius' returning owl, which was one sentence: to tell when his next Hogsmeade weekend was.

"Because that was encouraging," Lily snapped at him, having to fight down the impulse to strangle Sirius when he technically hadn't done anything wrong, but they were all so stressed that Sirius being unhelpful felt like an extra kick in the rear.

Sirius raised his hands up in surrender at once, just as annoyed at his own self no matter how muddled that made his mind.

"Why do you even want to know?" James demanded of him. "You're not actually stupid enough to come onto the school grounds again."

When Sirius didn't answer, that only managed to make them all squirm to another degree. They knew he could get away with it, if anyone could survive on the grounds of Hogwarts it was a Marauder, but they'd still felt a lot safer with Sirius being far away from where Snape and an Auror, even a retired one, were.

Harry even flipped the paper over to find the rest of the message.

Remus had to plug his nose to stop himself snorting with laughter, but the indignant look on Harry's face really would have been priceless under any other circumstances, as that really was possibly the shortest note Sirius have ever sent anyone.

Hermione whispered the answer to him which Harry quickly wrote down and sent back.

"That would be so helpful if I lived that long," Harry said with a forced smile in place, at least giving them all the reminder that he had.

Harry felt his anxiety somehow ramp up all the more as the owl took off again. He'd somehow thought Sirius would come back with an answer as well, but in his haste to write down the Crouch/Snape/ and Moody stuff he hadn't even mentioned his egg.

"Not like I'd be much help anyways, clearly," Sirius grumbled, starting to feel an ache in his chest that he'd been so useless lately. He hadn't been able to help Harry with any of these tasks, and had in fact been causing Harry more sleepless nights than anything remotely helpful.

Ron asked why he'd even want to know, and Harry responded back lifelessly, trying to cling to that flare of hope he'd had at Sirius' note.

Sirius forced himself to perk back up at that though, at least he was helping in some way by keeping Harry's moral up even for a second.

James recognized the same thing, and responded by making faces at his baby.

They were due at a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, where Hagrid had thankfully stopped forcing interaction with the Blast-Ended Skrewts.

"Well this is a pleasant start," Remus managed a smile, very thankful if Hagrid had moved on from those illegal things.

Maybe because there were only two left,

"More good news," Lily chirped.

or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could,

"I already knew he could," Sirius scoffed.

Hagrid had instead been continuing on unicorn lessons.

"Can't deny I'm relieved to hear that," James beamed.

"No offense to Hagrid, but I do hope he does follow this more common line of thinking," Remus agreed, thinking that whole ordeal with the skrewts would be worth it if it had finally made Hagrid realize the things he should and shouldn't be showing classes.

It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters,

"Well I already knew that," Sirius smiled, "he just doesn't show it as much."

"Could have fooled me," Lily shook her head affectionately.

though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

"Oh boy, poisonous fanged unicorns," Remus shook his head at the thought, "please don't tell Hagrid about that, or he might start up more crossbreeding."

Today he had managed to capture two foals.

"Ha!" Sirius barked in triumph. "Let's see that Grubbly woman get away with that."

Lily was smiling privately to herself behind the book, thinking those boys had taken that woman way to personally, but as loyal as the Marauders were, she wouldn't be surprised if they resented any teacher taking over a position of someone they liked. It certainly explained the lackluster way they were treating any mention of Moody.

Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold.

Harry's eyes flipped wide in surprise as he remembered those beauties.

Parvati and Lavender went into transports of delight at the sight of them,

James couldn't stop his own triumphant giggles at Hagrid not only one upping Grubbly-Plank, but also managing to stun those two uppity girls.

and even Pansy had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them.

"Glad to hear she's not a completely heartless monster," Remus smiled, as he'd never met a person who resisted those babies charm.

Hagrid was going over their growth ages, noting how much easier they were to spot at this age and didn't start to change silver until two, nor grow horns until four. They didn't go pure white until seven.

"How long do they live?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Average age is twenty," Remus happily supplied, "some up to thirty. Those that are domesticated and in captivity can live up to forty or fifty."

Harry couldn't imagine anyone actually owning a unicorn, let alone riding one, but he'd certainly love to see that.

The babies were more trusting than their older counterparts, so the boys were welcomed to come forward and pet them, Hagrid encouraging them all to offer sugar lumps.

"They'll never let you leave if you do that," Remus chuckled.

Hagrid called Harry over to him, while the others swarmed the babies,

"Not all at once," Lily couldn't help but caution, "still only a few at a time, don't want to startle them."

"Yes Mum," Sirius picked at her, which she ignored.

and asked how he was doing?

Harry agreed he was fine, and at Hagrid's prompting, a bit nervous. Hagrid clapped Harry on the shoulder, saying he wasn't surprised one bit, he'd be fine!

Even though he knew Hagrid to be wrong, Harry still couldn't help a warm rush of reassurance that Hagrid had such unwavering confidence in him. Harry knew right then he'd come out of this task on top just for that alone.

Asking if he had his clue all figured out?

"For the most part," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Harry hesitated answering at first, wondering if he should ask Hagrid for advice. Had he ever gone into the lake to deal with those creatures?

"That's actually not a bad idea," Remus said in surprise.

"I'll bet Hagrid would be more than happy to spill," Sirius agreed, "it might even be something insanely easy to get a hold of, since Hagrid's no great shakes at magic."

Harry just sighed though, feeling confident he wouldn't be asking Hagrid for help with this considering that would be confessing to the man who'd just given him such comfort that he had no idea what he was doing.

Hagrid hadn't waited for an answer, already patting Harry's shoulder with confidence that he'd win, while Harry sunk a few inches into the soft ground.

They all realized that at the same moment as Harry, so it was only strained smiles for Hagrid's over enthusiasm.

Harry couldn't bring himself to ask after that, and ruin Hagrid's proud smile.

By the night before the task, Harry was sure he was in a living nightmare.

Even Harry couldn't stop a forceful shiver at that, he'd only had just this amount of time before to practice a Summoning charm he'd already heard of, now he was supposed to find one and master it in less than twelve hours!

His panicky feelings managed to subside the moment he blinked his haze of fear away and realize where he was, at least feeling safe in the knowledge those around him weren't blaming him one bit for this mess he was in.

He knew that even if he found a spell by now he'd still have to learn it in time to use it. Why had he done this to himself? He should have been working on this since the beginning!

"Oh I don't think that's your fault," Lily said instantly, "you acted like everyone else in that situation would have."

Harry had to bite his tongue from bitterly pointing out Cedric had already figured it out first, and he'd probably come in first place by doing some masterful thing. At this point Harry wouldn't be surprised if the perfect Hufflepuff invented his own spell to combat this! Still he said none of that aloud, it wasn't his mother's fault she'd gotten him instead.

He was berating himself for all four years of his schooling and his slacking off, what if a teacher had ever mentioned how to breathe underwater?

"Then Hermione would know how to do this," James soothed, "and if she doesn't know and she's at least a year above you, then I'm confident this isn't your fault in lapse in knowledge."

Harry actually did feel himself relax at that being pointed out.

Still he and his friends were frantically turning pages in the library, but whenever the word water came about, it was usually some potion ingredient.

Ron snapped in frustration that this just wasn't a task to be done! The closest he'd found was a drought spell to clear puddles,

"But that's not strong enough for the whole lake," Lily sighed, that charm had crossed her mind but she hadn't suggested it for this reason.

but it wasn't powerful enough to drain a lake!

"Not now Sirius," Remus cut him off before Sirius could point out Lily had finished Ron's sentence. He pouted at his friend but didn't argue the point, he wanted to hear about this task being over already as much as anyone.

Hermione was still being insistent, saying it must be in here somewhere!

Ron ignored her, saying Harry's only option was to go down to the lake, stick his head in and demand they give back whatever they took.

Tension broke in the room once again because of Ron, Harry actually laughing so hard he started listing in his seat and he couldn't help it. He truly missed his best friend.

"I genuinely hope you try that," Sirius happily brushed some hair out of his face, "you will definitely get points for originality."

Remus held himself back from pointing out that it wouldn't work, but at least no one could say Harry hadn't tried.

Hermione hissed at him he was being ridiculous, there must be a way! She seemed to be taking the fact that she hadn't found her answer in the library as a personal insult, it had never failed her before.

"Actually it has several times now," James happily pointed out. "You didn't find out about the Stone in there, or the Chamber of Secrets."

"Technically the Stone was in a book she'd previously checked out," Lily countered just to poke back at her husband.

"And she did find information about the Basilisk in a book from there," Remus agreed.

"Okay, fifty, fifty," Harry pacified before Sirius could argue anything back.

Harry bemoaned that he hadn't ever tried to become an animagus like his godfather.

"Why would that have helped?" James asked in surprise, ignoring his internal wince that of course Harry would say Sirius' name rather than his, he'd actually seen Padfoot as more than a memory.

"I didn't know you couldn't choose the animal," Harry shrugged.

Ron agreed Harry could be a goldfish by now.

"Even if you could chose, I'm sure you would have picked something better than a puny fish," Remus sniffed.

"Like an alligator," Sirius happily agreed.

Hermione snapped they were being ridiculous, it took years to be one of those and you had to take the time to register and all sorts,

"That's half a lie," James raised a challenging brow, "you don't have to register."

Lily ignored him, she knew Harry had meant it as a joke and James returning Hermione with sarcasm wasn't helping anything.

Sirius clearly didn't as he kept going sadly, "but that first half is true, we started at the end of our third year and didn't manage it until the beginning of our fifth. Even if you had been practicing from the whole time you knew about them, you would only be able to go about half way."

"Still," Remus couldn't help but point out speculatively, "he could manifest certain parts, so if he had been something aquatic, it may have been enough to get him through this."

"None of this is helpful," Lily cut them all off for good.

still pointing out that the Improper Use of Magic Office kept a very strict list of people who could so that the power couldn't be abused.

"Hermione is clearly focusing on the wrong things here," Sirius muttered so Lily wouldn't snap again.

Harry told her to cool it, he'd been joking.

Hermione was ignoring him now to as she snapped how useless half of these spells were, who wanted to make their nose hair ringlets?

"And why wouldn't you?" James returned innocently.

Fred popped up then to say it was certainly a conversation starter.

"There's my point," James gestured vaguely to Lily's ever growing annoyance that she couldn't be done with this.

The three looked up in surprise to ask what the twins were doing here.

"Lost I'd guess," Remus snorted.

George told they'd been sent to get Ron and Hermione to see McGonagall.

"Why?" All of the boys asked at the same time Lily read out;

Hermione asked why, and Fred said he wasn't sure, but she'd looked grim about something.

"Well that's not encouraging," Sirius frowned.

"What could she be talking to them for and not Harry?" Remus agreed uneasily.

Harry exchanged an uneasy look with his friends, wondering if their head of house was going to tell them off for Harry getting help from them.

"Oh she wouldn't," Lily wriggled with unease at the idea.

"I'm positive that's not what this is about," James said with conviction, their old head of house was bound to give Harry more slack than that.

Still, they had no choice, so they promised they'd meet Harry back in the common room, to bring as many books with him as he could so they could keep looking.

Harry was left on his own through another mountain of books with such titles as A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms, and Dreadful Denizens of the Deep.

"Really, those last two sounded promising?" Remus said.

"I don't even remember what they're about anymore," Harry sighed, "even if I had found a spell, I was so tired by then I'd have read right over it."

They were all shifting around again in unease, that worry creeping up again of how had Harry lived through this one. It was much less scary than the dragon, and yet still somehow more stressful.

Harry eventually was kicked out because of curfew and did indeed drag many more thick spines with him up to his common room, where Crookshanks took to settling on his lap and people passed Harry by wishing him luck.

"Never mind that you must have looked like hell by then," James muttered mutinously.

All seemed convinced Harry would do something just as spectacular as his first event.

"Oh hey, what if you used your firebolt again," Sirius suddenly yelped in excitement. "You'd pelt through the water faster than swimming, and so long as you were fast and held your breath the whole time, you could be in and out."

"Have you ever flown a broom under water?" Lily asked in honest curiosity.

"Well, no," James answered, "but I think the idea has merits."

Remus clearly didn't agree as he quickly poked holes, "well it's still not a good idea not to test the idea first incase there is resistance, in which case Harry wouldn't be able to move any faster than normal, plus I'm positive for mermaids to be in there that it's going to be very deep and large, he still might not be able to hold his breath long enough to find what he's looking for."

"Well you're just no help at all," Sirius pouted as he sat back.

Harry couldn't find the breathe to answer them, and by midnight he was all alone.

"Where'd Ron and Hermione go?" Lily yelped in concern.

"They never came back," Harry admitted, starting to flatten his hair in nerves as he was sure he'd see them again sooner than he was thinking...but not how he was expecting.

He'd gone through his last book, and shame was settling in. He couldn't do this task. He'd have to go down there tomorrow and face Bagman's surprise, Karkaroff's smugness, Flure saying how unsurprised she was as he was just a little boy.

Harry slumped back in his seat, trying to ignore the mortification bubbling in him.

James caught sight of this and wasted no time in telling him, "you can't go blaming yourself for not getting this Harry. These were not designed for your age in mind, and honestly you still never should have been doing them in the first place."

Harry watched him for a moment before giving an honest smile. He didn't exactly feel better, but it still felt good no one in here was judging him for not being able to do so. He could suffer through all those other people's reactions so long as those in here shot their mouths off at them because of it.

He knew Malfoy would laugh himself silly, and Hagrid would be crestfallen.

Though Harry winced particularly hard at that one, knowing that would hurt the worst.

Harry stood abruptly from his seat, dislodging Crookshanks who gave him an unhappy hiss before slinking away.

"Yes, how dare the person move," Remus muttered to himself.

Harry made up his mind, going to fetch his Invisibility Cloak. He was going back to the library, and he would stay there until he found something!

"The fact that you've used that cloak to sneak into the Library more than anywhere else in that castle," Sirius shook his head, "I really never would have guessed it."

Lily quickly countered with, "well I'm not going to pretend to be disappointed."

Time kept marching on, soon it was almost three in the morning, and still Harry's nimble fingers kept pushing more pages along, one more book, it had to be in the next book...

The mermaid from the painting was still sitting on her rock, having a poke at Harry's head with his own broom while he floundered in the water.

"I'm thinking you finally fell asleep," James chuckled lightly.

"No, really?" Sirius challenged back. "I think Harry finally gave up and decided to hide in there with his broom."

Harry was trying to demand it back, but she just kept laughing and poking him in the head.

Harry told her to knock it off, that was hurting, but then another voice told him Harry Potter must wake up.

Lily sighed, hesitating before she read on to find out who was trying to wake her son up to face something like this, she really wasn't looking forward to the end results.

Harry insisted, with his eyes still shut, that he needed to stop being poked.

Dobby insisted he must keep poking Harry Potter, he must wake up.

"Why's Dobby the one fetching you?" Sirius did a double take in surprise.

"Why can he even see you?" James added, "you fell asleep under the cloak."

"Why didn't Ron and Hermione ever show up again?" Remus groused.

Lily was still ignoring all of those very good questions.

Harry sat up in surprise, the cloak had slipped off of him and he was still slumped over a book in the library, daylight shining on his face.

Dobby was still speaking to him, telling him he had ten minutes to get to the second task.

"Well at least Dobby poked you awake this time," Sirius offered helpfully, though he agreed he'd rather have just let Harry sleep through it at this point. "So at least he took your advice."

"As if I needed heart failure right before this," Harry absently agreed.

Harry repeated the time back in shock, even looking at his own watch to confirm, but when he saw Dobby was right, Harry slumped back in his chair in defeat.

Dobby was still being insistent, telling Harry Potter he needed to go, Dobby was going to help him.

"And how is he going to do that?" Remus demanded in surprise.

"Magic," James rolled his eyes, though now leaning forward eagerly as he was really curious to hear what Dobby had been up to so shushed Remus before he could respond.

Dobby had to help him, because Harry Potter needed to get back his Wheezy.

"His what?" All the boys asked at once.

Harry tried to ask what that was, and Dobby insisted Harry had to get back his Wheezy from the lake, the one who'd given Dobby his sweater.

Sirius flushed in shock, only just managing to stammer out, "they, they took Ron!"

"How on earth did they manage that?" James demanded of nothing, getting a little jittery at the thought.

"You think Hermione and him went down to the lake to test a theory of her's, and..." Lily trailed off as her mind failed to offer up anything after that.

Remus was shaking his head furiously as he objected, "I've never heard of Mermaids abducting anyone, there must be something else going on with this!"

Harry hadn't realized it before, but he was now feeling more panicky than ever about this task! Now not only had he no clue how to survive under the water, he had to find Ron as well!

Harry grasped what was going on, and began reciting that mermaid song again in horror.

"They wouldn't actually," Lily looked faint at the idea, unable to complete the thought aloud that they'd never really just leave them to die after an hour, then her mind flashed back to all those horrific stories she'd heard about the champions dying, and now they'd gone and put even more people into this Tournament! She kept reading in a feverish haste now, thinking that this school had officially lost its mind.

Harry begged Dobby for whatever help he had, and Dobby offered him gillyweed.

"Haven't I heard of that before?" James cocked his head to the side as it niggled at his mind.

"It's a plant," Lily yelped in shock, "used in potions to help you transform into aquatic life as it'll give you gills and fins. It's not native to Britain though, so I can't imagine where Dobby got a hold of that. I've only ever read about about it in an advanced Potion's text."

"Well whatever works to help me live through this," Harry said pointedly, and Lily took the hint and decided she'd figure out the elf later.

Sirius had to bite his tongue to caution Harry not take that, he still wasn't sure how much he trusted Dobby to be giving Harry anything.

Harry looked at the slimy green ball and asked what it did, and Dobby promised it would help Harry breathe underwater.

Harry couldn't help but ask how sure Dobby was, still remembering the last time the elf had tried to 'help' he'd gone a night without bones in his arm.

"Glad it's not just me," Sirius huffed under his breath, though Harry heard and acknowledged him with half a look of disbelief, and half agreement.

Dobby promised he knew what this was, he'd heard McGonagall and Moody talking about it! Dobby would not let Harry Potter lose his Wheezy!

"Well that we can agree on," Remus said.

Harry decided he'd have to trust this, he had no other choice. Stuffing the cloak and gillyweed onto his person, Harry thanked Dobby for his help as he sprinted out of the library.

"I can't deny I'm finally warming up to him," James grinned, Dobby had officially been very useful to Harry this year enough to make up for all his, err, issues in his second year.

Some people were still making their way out of the Entrance Hall from breakfast as Harry all but flew past them in his haste to make it down to the lake. Stands were already set up around it filled to the brim in anticipation to watch the lake.

"That's an interesting point I hadn't thought about," Remus couldn't stop himself blurting much to the annoyance of the others who wanted to get this task over with. "How on earth is this going to be spectated by anyone, wouldn't they just be watching the water's surface?"

"They could use Per Speculum," Lily offered distractedly, "cast it so that only the people in the stands could see through to the bottom of the lake."

"Can you use that spell to see through anything?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Inanimate objects," Lily agreed, "it's an old, tricky charm. I imagine some variation of it was used to create Moody's fake eye, plus whatever else was used to see through his own head as well."

While intrigued, Harry didn't press his mother for more details for now.

Harry came to a screeching halt in front of the judges stand, splattering mud on Flure.

"I'm sure she'll hex you for getting her dirty before she jumps into water," Sirius snorted.

A bossy voice demanded why he was so late.

"I hope Crouch is finally back," James said eagerly, "I want another look at him."

It was Percy, sitting in Crouch's spot.

"Why am I not surprised those two are described talking the same way," Remus snorted, as disappointed as the others Crouch had once again been a no show, but this just made his arrival in Snape's office all the stranger!

No one looked to question it now right before this task though.

Bagman waved him off, saying Harry should be allowed to catch his breath for a moment. Everyone except for Bagman and Dumbledore were smiling at Harry's arrival.

"Not sorry for your fortune," James grumbled.

Harry doubled over for a moment to indeed get back some air, and rub out the stitch in his side.

Remus couldn't help but think back and really realize how far Harry had just run in ten minutes, that really was quite a feet. He could have been a sprinter on the track team if he'd gone to a normal muggle school with that kind of talent.

He didn't have long as Bagman began spacing them out on the shoreline, pausing at Harry and asking if he knew what he was going to do?

"Even if he didn't, you going to teach him a spell in front of everyone in the next five seconds?" Sirius couldn't help but snap.

Lily rolled her eyes at him, Bagman was just trying to be friendly, but couldn't deny Sirius had a point this time.

Harry grasped the plant in his pocket as he said he was good to go. Bagman backed up then, turning on his Sonorous voice and calling for all to hear that on the count of three, the task would begin.

Time was up, a whistle blew, and Harry ignored everything around him as he struggled to remove his socks and shoes.

"You should have been allowed to at least do that," James sniffed. "The others showed up in swimwear."

"Price of being tardy," Lily sighed.

Then he stumbled into the icy waters, chewing furiously at the gillyweed. It was slimy and hard to force down his throat, his toes were numb and stumbling over the slick stones and smooth silt, and beyond in the stands Harry could hear laughter. He knew he probably looked ridiculous, wading in without seemingly doing anything.

"Not everything has to be flashy," Remus muttered, genuinely wondering what the other champions had come up with, but knew he could ask Harry later after the task.

Now he was up to his chest in the icy liquid, which felt more like fire the temperature was so unbearable, then a breeze blew through and Harry stood there shivering and waiting amid the jeering.

"How long does this stuff take to kick in?" Harry asked with unease, wondering if he should have been eating it on his run down there now.

"Only a few moments," Lily reassured, "it feels longer because you're waiting for it."

All at once he felt the change, the sides of his neck stung as his fumbling fingers felt slits appear there, his mouth and nose suddenly wouldn't take in air as if he had a pillow covering them.

"Fascinating," Sirius said genuinely, he'd never thought what it must feel like for a fish to be out of water, but Harry made a good point of it.

Without hesitating another moment, Harry flung himself into the water, sucked in the lake, and breathed freely again. Slamming his feet forward, Harry found he was suddenly moving much more easily through the water than he should have, and he looked down to see his fingers and toes were suddenly elongated and had bits of film between them all, he'd gone webbed with flippers.

"Looks like you got your wish," James grinned, "you sound like you've half turned into a frog."

"Frogs don't have gills by the time they have webbed feet," Remus reminded.

James rolled his eyes at him as that wasn't his point, but didn't start an argument over it for once.

The water now felt like the perfect temperature, and Harry could see much more clearly than he should have in the grime, plus he no longer needed to blink.

"I don't care what the others are doing," Sirius smiled, "this sounds by far the best way to do it."

Silence wasn't bleeding in, so as Harry propelled himself forward he had nothing to guide him through the foggy landscape. The smooth sand below quickly turned into a sea of seaweed and small fish occasionally flashed by and caught his eye, but there was no sign of Ron, merpeople, or even the giant squid.

"I think that would have been interesting to see up close," James snorted.

"Not if it decided you were shrimp," Remus said, trying to ignore the myths he'd heard about those things eating small whales in the wild, Harry didn't need to discover if that was true or not.

Nothing as far as the eye could see, Harry was staring unblinkingly ahead of him,

Sirius wished Harry would quit mentioning that part, he kept blinking spastically every time and it was annoying to have it pointed out.

trying to discern shapes through the gloom when, without warning, something grabbed hold of his ankle.

Lily couldn't help but startle just a bit, her foot trying to retract from nothing on instinct.

Harry twisted his body around to find a grindylow.

All five of them couldn't help a little shiver of unease at that, but were more thankful than ever Remus had been around last year to teach Harry about these things, Merlin knew what would be happening to him otherwise.

Harry went for his wand and shouted the spell Relashio, but to his surprise only a bubble came from his mouth, while a jet of water shot the creature in the head, creating a red welt in the green skin.

Harry couldn't help a little intrigue, he'd learned that spell over a year ago now but he'd only used it for the first time, and was honestly impressed it had even worked. While going over it in class, Professor Lupin had emphasized how hard this could be to pull off underwater where your spells could be temperamental since verbal spells were nay impossible to perform down there. Your best bet, if you hadn't learned silent spells yet, was to avoid them altogether.

Harry pulled his ankle free, but just as fast he had half a dozen chasing him and trying to pull him down. Harry kept swimming forward, shooting jets over his shoulder until another grabbed his and he gave a ferocious kick, knocking the creature loose and making it go crosseyed back into the weeds.

Lily forced herself to relax a bit now that Harry was away from that threat, still sending silent thank you's to Remus in her head for teaching Harry about those or this could have turned out much worse.

That excursion had done nothing to really help put him on a direction, so he was still pushing along when a voice asked how he was doing?

"Who's talking underwater?" James jumped in shock, the baby in his lap giving a particularly loud giggle for this.

Harry spun on the spot to find Myrtle.

"I don't want to know why she's down there, I do not want that image in my head again," Sirius groaned, covering up his ears and wishing he could do the same to his eyes to make that mental image go away.

"Who's using the bathroom during the middle of the tournament?" Remus muttered absently, but Lily ignored him more for not wanting to think about that than anything.

Harry tried to say her name, but all that came out was more bubbles, causing Moaning Myrtle to giggle.

"I think that's an oxymoron," James gave a surprised smile.

She pointed Harry in the right direction, but refused to come with him,

"It'd probably be cheating if she did," Lily agreed.

saying the merpeople chased her off when she went that way.

Harry gave her a thumbs up in thanks before heading that way, and knowing he was on the right path when he came across a stone statue depicting what must be merpeople chasing the giant squid.

"So, I'm guessing they don't get along," Remus couldn't help but be a bit interested at the idea of the conflict, he wouldn't deny he'd love to read a study on the matter if there was one out there.

The closer he swam, the more clearly he could hear that egg song again, now varying that his time was half up and if he didn't hurry, what he'd lost was going to stay here and rot.

"Gee, thanks," Harry shivered at the horrid idea, he half didn't want the memory back of what his best friend was going to look like in the mermaids clutches...plus he just knew there was someone else down here he was worried about.

Now Harry was swimming through the outskirts of an unmistakable village, some merpeople swimming to the windows of their houses to peak out at him. They looked nothing like the blonde in the prefects bathroom, these had gray skin and green hair, with thick burly features and powerful fish tails, and all were clutching spears.

All of them couldn't help but incline away from that thought, no one wanted to think what would happen if they all swarmed Harry at once. They were curious to know what had been done to even convince these mermaids to allow the tournament to go on in their dwellings, it was the height of uncommon.

Harry sped himself along, spotting a few features like gardens and pebbles lining a street way, even a grindylow tied to a stake like a pet.

"Bet you the equivalent of mermaid Hagrid lives in there," Sirius snorted.

Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another.

"Don't know why they bother," James said, "it's not like Harry speaks mermish."

"What would they even be whispering?" Sirius demanded, "hey look at that weird thing go, hope he drowns so we can have dinner."

"Don't make me silence you," Lily threatened without looking up.

Harry kept his speedy pace as he came across what must be the equivalent of their courtyard, the merpeople song louder than ever, and Harry laid eyes on a humongous statue of a merperson, four ropes bound to it.

"Guess I'm not surprised," Remus still couldn't stop the goosebumps climbing his limbs at the thought, "one for each person."

"I still want an explanation for how they ended up down there," Lily sighed, knowing she wasn't likely to get that until after the fact with the judges explaining, at least she hoped they would.

Ron was tied between Hermione and Cho.

"Why's Hermione there?" Harry yelped in surprise.

"There's no way you got two," James agreed.

Sirius couldn't help but snort in surprise though, saying, "Cedric's only been dating Cho for a few weeks, and she's the person he'd miss most?"

"I'd have missed Lily the most even before we started dating," James said at once, more to get a rise out of Sirius than anything.

It worked, as Sirius liked like a kicked puppy at once while bemoaning, "what do you mean it'd be Lily down there!"

"Please keep going," Remus begged of her, though she was watching with honest amusement and a faint blush, admitting she never would have found this so endearing before she'd married James but now it was hilarious to watch Sirius actually acting like this. She did reluctantly turn back to the pages though, wanting to hear about Harry and his friends getting out of this more than Sirius throwing a fit.

The last was a girl of about eight, her features leaving Harry in no doubt to be Fleur's sister.

"I'm sure it'll break Roger's heart when he hears it wasn't him," Remus smirked.

Sirius though went from indignant at his best friend, to speculation as he asked, "What's up with that?"

"What do you mean?" Lily asked. "I think it's sweet." Her mind was honestly caught on a time where she knew she would have felt the same way about her older sister.

"Sweet sure, but kind of heartbreaking," Sirius said with a shrug, "I mean Fleur's little sister is there, so what's up with Krum not having some kind of family there, or even a random Durmstrang student Harry doesn't know. Cedric, fine, maybe Prongs is right and he's had a liking for her for ages, but are you telling me the person that kid would miss the most is some random girl he met that year?"

All four of them were looking at Sirius slightly slack jawed, until he gave them a sheepish smile and said, "What? Am I wrong?"

"No," Remus shook his head sadly, "You're right, which is why that was so depressing."

"That poor guy," James agreed

With nothing more any of them could think on the matter, Lily went back to reading.

All four were clearly in a deep sleep, faint bubbles rising from their mouths.

Harry continued forward, still half expecting to be attacked any moment, but the surrounding merpeople did nothing but watch. Harry investigated the ropes keeping them in place, but the knots were not to be undone, and Harry wished he'd brought along that new knife Sirius had given him.

"I doubt a severing charm would work any better underwater," Remus agreed with a sigh.

Harry instead turned for help, trying to gesture that he wanted to borrow one of their very sharp spears, but the one just laughed and said they were not to help, only watch.

Harry tried to shout in frustration, but only more bubbles appeared, causing them to laugh harder.

"I don't get why he's still laughing," Lily grumbled, "this isn't funny."

Still Harry went in search of something else, and went down to the rocky shore and found a rather jagged rock. It took some time to hack Ron free, but then Harry looked around expectantly and still found none of the other champions. Why didn't they hurry up already?

"I am positive they're not stopping to pet the grindylows," James agreed, his leg starting to jitter in unease for the victims of this, at least baby Harry found it amusing.

Harry turned his attention on Hermione in impatience, but was at once dragged away by the merpeople, telling him to only take his and leave the others.

"Well that's just cruel," Lily yelped fiercely. "Harry got there first, I see no problems he shouldn't be allowed to save everyone."

"What would happen if the others don't show up?" Remus agreed uneasily.

"Let's hope we don't have to find out," Sirius huffed.

Harry refused, trying to fight them off, but the merpeople weren't letting him go if he kept trying to help the girls. Harry looked from them to Ron, wondering if he'd have time to get him out and come back for the others?

"Most likely not," Lily muttered to herself, the effects of gillyweed didn't last that long.

Would he be able to find this place again? He looked at his watch to see how much time was left but it had stopped working.

"Because that's helpful," James scowled.

Around him the merpeople were muttering in excitement again, and Harry saw Cedric swimming for them with a bubble over his head, distorting his features.

"What spell is that?" Harry asked in surprise, managing to relax even just a bit now that he wasn't alone surrounded by those things.

"Don't know," James said, his face just the same as Harry's, "I've never heard of that."

He mouthed at Harry he'd gotten lost, as he came forward with a knife and cut Cho free in no time.

"Well he just came all kinds of prepared," Sirius rolled his eyes, unnecessarily annoyed at him for bringing that along.

He pulled her upward and out of sight.

"Good to know Cedric cares so much for the others," James couldn't help but snap, Harry could have won already if he wasn't so busy making sure everyone got out of there, like Cho.

Harry still hovered there, waiting for Fleur and Krum. Time was running out, what would happen to the hostages after the hour was up?

Again they all shivered at such phrasing, but really they hoped that was being exaggerated somewhat! They wouldn't really leave those kids down there to die if say someone like Harry hadn't been able to get there, right?

Water babble started up again, and Harry saw another moving in, Krum, with the head of a shark.

"You know, I still can't help but like him just for that," James smirked, "he happened to do what I would have in this instance."

"A shark though," Sirius snorted in amusement, "a fish just wasn't grand enough, no he went for the big one."

"Exactly what Prongs would have done," Remus repeated with a smirk.

His new jagged teeth tried to tear into the flimsy ropes, but they were too small for him to properly gnaw on. Harry feared he'd rip Hermione in half trying.

"Oh I'm sure he's more careful than that," Lily insisted for comfort at once.

"Sharks can feel pulses in the water," Remus offered helpfully, "so I'm sure he can be precise enough not to hit anything he shouldn't be."

Harry swam forward and punched his shoulder hard as he could to get his attention, offering his own jagged rock.

"It's too bad you didn't have that same excuse to hit Diggory," Sirius smirked, which Harry didn't deny.

Krum took the offering, freed Hermione, and was out of sight in no time. Still Harry couldn't swim away with Ron, his eyes trained every which way in hope for Fleur to arrive.

Time was running out, and Harry got desperate.

He took back the stone for himself and went after the little girls ropes, but again the merpeople tried to stop him. Harry pulled out his wand.

Remus couldn't help going a little wide eyed in fear for Harry doing that. He was lucky that whatever was going on these merpeople were playing along, they weren't known for cooperating well with wizards. Harry pulling a wand on them could break whatever truce had been called for this task to play out.

He shouted at them to get out of it, and while bubbles only came out, he got the feeling they understood anyways.

"Bit hard to misinterpret a wand on your nose," Sirius agreed.

They stopped trying to force him away, and Harry kept at his task. Still they were clearly not happy, but stayed well away from him now, so knowing he had the advantage, Harry told them they had till the count of three to get lost, holding up three fingers just to make sure they got the point.

"You'd be great at charades," James couldn't stop himself saying even as he wriggled around in anticipation for this to almost be over

By the time he reached two, they'd scattered.

They all released a breath of relief at that, Harry really should count himself lucky that hadn't gone worse.

Harry quickly got moving then with Ron and the girl, his mind still fearing what was going to happen when time ran out, would they pull him back to the depths?

Harry looked wildly around for someone to tell him he was being ridiculous at that thought, and when no one did but in fact looked slightly even more worried, it wasn't exactly a comfort. Now with both of Harry's hands tied in fact with these two, he couldn't even keep his wand on them as a threat, and what about when the gillyweed ran out?!

Did they eat humans?

Remus really didn't like the fact that he wasn't a hundred percent sure about that fact, he'd heard conflicting stories on the matter and now didn't feel like the time to get a confirmation.

Harry kept himself going, the water steadily growing bright around him, but not fast enough. His muscles were starting to cramp, he could feel himself getting waterlogged, the gills were vanishing and he could no longer draw breath, but still he paddled furiously on as the flippers vanished, he knew the air was above him if he could just get close enough...

Lily forced herself to stop reading no matter how much she didn't want to, just to look up at her son for a moment and tell him, "you and me really need to have a talk about how your mind comes up with the best ways possible to make this tension ten times worse than it should be."

Harry gave her an uneasy smile, unsure if he was being scolded or she was just looking for a release, but she was already turning back to the pages.

then his head broke the surface.

Finally they all managed to breathe with ease again as well, lighting another check mark down in their brain, two down, just one more to go! That last task wasn't going to be over fast enough for them.

Air washed over his face, he erupted in shivers again but he didn't care as he pulled Ron and the girl up with him. Along came several green heads, but they were all smiling.

"Well that's nice," Remus huffed, still half wanting to curse those stupid things for freaking Harry out as much as the grindylows.

The crowd in the stands was going crazy, shouting and screaming as many seemed to fear that Harry had reemerged with someone dead.

Harry suddenly spasmed, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for a moment and shaking so hard he nearly fell over, but the yellow haze swallowing his brain was over as fast as it had come, and he blinked back into the world around him feeling very close to vomiting but having no idea why. He tried to both explain himself and apologize around shaking lips, but though the tight worry in all of their eyes didn't lessen any, Sirius kept a tight hold on Harry's shoulder and James was juggling his infant and watching Harry like at any moment he was prepared to cast a protective charm on him to stop his head hitting anything, no one could bring themselves to ask Harry a single question of why on earth Harry would have a reaction to that. It didn't stop them from turning over what Lily had read over and over in their head...

The two seemed fine though, the girl glancing fearfully around her as she clung to Harry for support, Ron spitting out a bit of water and telling Harry how wet it was.

Harry forced out some approximation of a laugh, his skin still too white for it to be believable, still blinking far too fast for them to believe he wasn't still trying to process what he was hearing rather than some accumulation of memories.

Though for the life of him Sirius actually didn't want to make the joke, still far to worried about what Harry had almost remembered to feel it, he still said, "at least you can always count on Ron to point out the important stuff."

Harry gave him such a relieved smile it had been worth it, and James sat back in his seat and kept the baby in his lap all the closer to him to ignore the interaction while still keeping an eye on Harry.

Then Ron saw the little girl and asked why she was here?

"Did he actually expect him to leave her?" Remus asked absently, trying to refuse to allow his mind to guess where Harry's had gone and mostly failing so coming up with far too many options of what could be bothering him.

Lily fidgeted with the pages for a few moments, not particularly wanting to answer but it would still feel better than letting her own mind wander. "Well if that's Ron's first response, then I guess we were worried for nothing. Perhaps the merpeople would have brought up the unrescued kids on their own."

She tried to instill as much confidence as she could, especially into the first part of that statement for Harry's benefit, wanting to believe more than anything Harry's flashback or memory relapse of whatever he'd nearly felt wasn't going to be as horrible as they were all thinking...though no one really believed that.

Harry explained Fleur never showed up, and he couldn't just leave her!

Ron told Harry he was being a prat, had he really taken that song seriously?

"That's a good point," Sirius quickly shot off, now knowing there had always been one fell safe way to get Harry to laugh and hoping it would work now, "how come I wasn't the one down there! You'd miss Ron more than me?"

He splayed such puppy eyes, Harry really did cave and give a genuine laugh for that.

Dumbledore wouldn't have let them drown!

"He makes it sound so obvious," James grumbled, thinking Ron wouldn't have said the same if he'd heard of all the past tournaments like they had. Lily's panicky little worries at the start of this didn't seem so foolhardy now.

Harry insisted the song had said-

but Ron told Harry they'd only phrased it that way so the champions would return in the time limit. Had Harry really come up last because he was acting the hero?

"Acting is inaccurate," Remus said with a strained smile, but all for happily talking about before Harry came out of the water and they'd gained a new worry. "What Harry did is very brave, and I'm still offended Krum and Diggory clearly didn't even consider doing the same."

Harry gave a bone deep shiver, something of what Remus had said hadn't exactly made him feel better and in fact was making an onset of his migraine reappear, but Lily quickly realized this and kept reading loudly before Harry could lose whatever color he'd even partially regained.

Harry felt stupid and annoyed at the same time. It was all good for Ron to be saying this, he'd been asleep the whole time. He hadn't seen how spooky that lake bottom was.

"Remus' point exactly," James agreed.

Instead of answering, he told Ron to help him out with the girl, she didn't seem able to swim very well.

The three hauled themselves back to the shore, accompanied by the merpeople singing their screechy song above the surface.

"I'll bet the crowd just loved hearing that," Sirius rubbed his ear absently.

Madam Pomfrey was already tending to the other champions and their rescuees.

There it was again, Harry was now confident someone in that list of names had been the cause of such a powerful memory trying to swarm him, but even the thought of guessing had him wanting to press his hand to his mouth to wipe sweat from his lip and had his stomach curling in protest along with his mind growing in pain.

Dumbledore and Bagman stood nearest to the shore, smiling out at them, but Percy wasn't waiting. Looking much younger than usual and very white, he went splashing out into the water to meet them.

"Aww," Lily couldn't help but coo slightly, wondering just how much Percy had been told of what was going on, how seriously he'd have taken this task and if he'd been wondering about Harry taking so long because something was wrong with Ron.

Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur,

"Oh good," Sirius said absently, he really had been concerned what had happened to her to stop her grabbing her sister and was glad she hadn't been a casualty this challenge.

who was busy being hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"I don't want to hear anyone calling Harry over reacting now," James arched a brow, if honestly impressed at the girl. "She's the one who's clearly thinking her sister was really in danger."

"Apparently it was just the actual victims who didn't know they weren't really victims," Remus snorted, though that still didn't track right with Krum and Diggory. Either they'd worked out the hostages weren't really in danger, which was odd as Harry and Fleur hadn't gotten that memo, or they hadn't stuck around enough to care.

She was screaming for Gabrielle, demanding to know if she was okay, or hurt?

Harry tried to tell her she was fine, but was so exhausted he could barely catch his own breath.

Percy had Ron seized tight to him, while Ron was vainly struggling to get free.

Causing all of them to have smiles of happiness for that moment, erasing the last of their worry for whatever Harry had been feeling from the top of their minds, for now. Whatever he'd been remembering would come, and they'd deal with it then, for now it was to adorable to pass up the moment for Sirius to tease Percy, "I'm going to remember this the next time he's spouting off about how important his cauldron bottom report is."

Flure got herself free and came forward, clinging to her sister and apologizing that it had been the grindylows that had stopped her.

"Well obviously Beauxbatons doesn't have as good of a DADA teacher as Harry got," James smiled pompously for his friend, while Remus rolled his eyes at Prongs.

She was in tears as she sobbed over her sister, while Harry was forced over by the others and had a blanket wrapped so tight around him he felt like a burrito, and was force fed a potion that made his ears steam.

"Don't want you catching a cold on top of everything," Lily happily agreed.

Hermione waddled up to him, praising what a good job he'd done, figuring this out all by himself.

"She's so surprised when I can do anything without her," Harry mock pouted.

Harry was fixing to correct he'd had help from Dobby, but then he spotted Karkaroff trying to listen in. He'd been the only judge not to be so visibly relieved by their return.

"As if I needed more confirmation he was a heartless scumbag," Sirius scoffed.

Harry pitched his voice as loud as he could for him to hear that Harry had indeed done just that.

James let out a booming laugh of pride at that, ruffling his son's hair as the father told that had been a classic move.

Krum tried to draw back Hermione's attention that she had a beetle in her hair,

There was a slight buzz in the base of Harry's skull, something telling him he should know something about that, but since he was still suffering from his last memory shock he didn't even give the feeling a glance.

Harry was sure Krum was trying to remind her who'd really saved her from the lake

Lily couldn't help but feel just slightly bad for Krum, he clearly really liked Hermione and yet he was most likely jealous of any attention Hermione ever gave Harry.

but Hermione just impatiently brushed the bug away and kept talking to Harry, telling him he was way outside of his time limit though and asking if he'd gotten lost?

Harry didn't really answer fully.

"More like, I found you first, I just stuck around the longest," Remus finished for him when it was clear Harry was going to trail off, in modesty or embarrassment he wasn't sure.

His stupidity was growing by the moment, now that he was clear headed it seemed obvious Dumbledore wouldn't have let them die just because the champion had failed.

"Well sure, in hindsight," Lily rolled her eyes, "but no one had better blame you for thinking otherwise, I wouldn't have really put it past them at this point."

He should have just grabbed Ron and gone, Cedric and Krum had.

"I hope you don't start using them as role models," James sniffed in disgust, he wasn't particularly fond of either of them even if they did sometimes amuse.

They hadn't taken the mersong seriously...

"How do you know how I would have taken it?" Sirius demanded at once, "you never showed it to me?"

Harry still laughed again, whatever feelings he had at himself vanishing at Sirius' distraction.

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson.

"Why am I not surprised Dumbledore speaks mermish," Remus chuckled, suddenly this whole task made a lot more sense to him, it wouldn't surprise him in the least if Dumbledore was actually on friendly terms with the merpeople.

When he was done he called the judges over to him so they could discuss all of the champions before releasing the scores.

Madam Pomfrey was now trying to rescue Ron from Percy, then tried to go for Fleur and her sister, but the elder girl refused and insisted her sister was to be looked after first. Then she swooped in on Harry, thanking him for saving her though he hadn't had to.

Harry belligerently agreed, now wishing he'd left her tied up with the rest of the girls.

Sirius released a sharp bark of laughter, guess Harry had a petty side when he got embarrassed.

"Oh I'm sure Hermione would have loved to hear that one," Lily giggled.

"Don't let Cho hear you thinking that one," James gave his son a winning smile, "she probably thought you grabbed the wrong hostage, she was likely thinking she'd been both yours and Cedrics."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Harry grumbled at the lot of them still smirking. "You know you were thinking the exact same thing as me."

"Yes," Remus agreed, "but we admit to it."

Fleur bent and gave Harry a kiss on each cheek, much to his burning embarrassment,

Harry was now wishing he'd passed out when he had the chance, it would have been much kinder than having to watch them all collapse laughing at his cherry red face.

then she turned on Ron and thanked him for helping as well.

Ron agreed he'd done a bit, still looking hopefully at her.

"I'm sure he's very hopeful for something," Sirius got out around his laughter.

Fleur swooped down and kissed him too.

Harry couldn't help joining in the laughter this time, Ron had looked so pleased and flustered at the same time.

Hermione looked furious,

"What's eating her?" James demanded lightly, "they're just getting thanked is all."

"I'm sure Hermione's just upset because she was fixing to, err, thank him as well," Sirius tried to insist around his chuckles.

but was interrupted by Bagman announcing for all to hear that the Merchieftainess had told of what all had happened and the scores were as follows out of fifty.

Flure had successfully used a Bubble-Head Charm,

"I've never heard of that," Lily pouted.

"You think it's a new spell invented?" Remus asked curiously. "Sounds simple enough in theory, wonder what year it's taught at."

"Clearly more than a fifth year, or Hermione would have come across it," Sirius shrugged.

but was attacked by grindylows, and failed to retrieve her hostage. So was awarded twenty- five points.

"Still half credit for the magic, seems fair," Lily agreed.

Polite applause followed while Flure told how she didn't deserve any.

Sirius couldn't deny he sort of liked her again for that, she clearly wasn't all about herself as she put on if she was humble enough to admit that.

Diggory, also using the same Charm,

"I'm extremely insulted for Harry," James pouted, "it would have been nice if he'd passed that along to Harry along with his stupid clue, or at least told him what book to be in."

Lily wanted to argue that would have been handing Harry the whole task, even Harry hadn't told Cedric how he was getting past his dragon, but really she wouldn't have been upset about it either as Harry had clearly needed the help.

"He should get points off for using the same thing as another champion," Sirius sighed. "I'd accuse them of conspiring."

was the first back but still outside his time limit of an hour by a minute.

"Wow, even first place didn't get there fast enough," Remus said in surprise, "I think they didn't estimate that time limit correctly."

"I'll send them a note," Sirius said with a careless shrug.

He was given forty-seven points.

His supporters went wild with applause while Harry's hopes plummeted, if Cedric had been late Harry was doomed.

Krum had used some Transfiguration work and came back second, winning forty points.

"I can see that," James nodded along, though he'd half been hoping both those boys would get some points taken off for not being like Harry and hanging around, though this could possibly be more of a reason why Cedric hadn't gotten a perfect score. James was certainly going to keep thinking so.

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"I'm sure he would have awarded a whole fifty if he could have gotten away with it," Sirius muttered to no one's disagreement.

Then there was Harry, who'd arrived first but according to eyewitness had stayed behind until all hostages were safe, even retrieving the last hence his delay in returning. His two friends looked at him half in exasperation, half commiseration.

Harry couldn't stop a small smile though, he missed being around his friends and was imagining what they would have said to him had they been here with him now.

Most of the judges, Bagman paused to give a nasty look at Karkaroff, had felt this showed his moral fiber and should be given full points.

"Wow," all of them blinked in surprise, pleased beyond words Harry was getting recognized for this act, and Karkaroff could sod off for thinking otherwise.

Instead, he'd received forty-five points.

Harry blushed as he was congratulated all around for this, pleased beyond words at their praise no matter how much he tried to convince them to move along, it wasn't that big of a deal, it's what anyone would have done...

Harry laughed in surprised as his friends began jumping around for joy, Ron congratulating him he wasn't just thick, he'd been showing moral fiber!

"Technically you were doing both," James beamed at him, "you're just that good at multitasking."

Fleur was clapping along happily as well, and while Krum tried to turn away and talk to Hermione again, she was too busy cheering for Harry to notice.

"That's his problem," Sirius sniffed, "he should have used that stupid shark head for something more useful than nearly ripping her in half."

Bagman rounded off by saying that the final task would happen at dusk on June 24th.

Harry felt a mounting sense of doom at the very idea, but he was still enjoying himself just a little too much at the warm attention from his family to give it much thought.

The champions would be given more details before hand, in the meantime, they were free to go.

Harry felt dazed as Madam Pomfrey began ushering them all up to the school for a warm change of clothes. He had ages until June to worry about anything again.

"Which will hopefully be your problem," Lily shot at Sirius just to get him to stop smirking for a moment, which worked much to her pleasure.

Next time he was in Hogsmeade, Harry decided as he walked back up the steps into the castle, he was going to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year.

They were very happy indeed they could end a chapter once again laughing outright, no one denying Dobby more than deserved it as Lily got up to swap the book in her hand for her baby while James took the hefty object, noting they were well on their way to being halfway done this year. Hopefully nothing to much more exciting could happen.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #Marauders #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years

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I recently saw a heavy criticism of The Beach saying "it's the single least realistic portrayal of teenagers on television: spoiled, rich kids don't actively shun Zuko for having a disfiguring scar on his face, no one tries to start shit with Azula over the volleyball game, teenagers referring to themselves as teenagers, a teen boy tells people not to make a mess, a bunch of 14-16 year-olds sit in a circle and psychoanalyze each other, everything else about the campfire scene." Your thoughts?

:’) that someone looks at the Beach and dismisses it for being “unrealistic” by whatever their cultural standards are is probably enough of a sign of the irrelevance of said person’s opinion. I mean, obviously they’re free to think what they will, but...

Fire Nation society is not American society. I’m going blind here, maybe this person isn’t American at all, but somehow I mostly see such kinds of narrow-minded criticism from first-worlders who are seldom exposed to lifestyles outside their particular, contemporary bubble of experiences.

Now then, let’s get into the actual debate: Fire Nation society values violence quite a lot. Fire Nation society is full of people who saw Zuko’s literal Agni Kai burning scene, and didn’t look away: the only character who does is Iroh, a very obvious hint by the writers that Iroh has discarded the cruel moral values the rest of the Fire Nation upholds.

With this in mind, a boy with a scarred face might earn all sorts of “ews” from our societies, damn right. From Fire Nation society, though? If even watching how the burn is inflicted didn’t bother most of them, why would the result be a problem? If anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if people with burn scars are even seen more attractive because it implies they were caught in violent scuffles with fire and still survived? Of course, the argument might go that Zuko’s burn is meant to be a mark of shame... but it’s a mark of shame for PRINCE Zuko. For that mysterious boy with the emo haircut in Ember Island, whose real identity is a mystery? It is shown, instead, to result in this reaction:

Now then, we could say that this is meant to be a jab by the creators and writers at Zuko’s hordes of fangirls, because frankly, Book 3 has several instances of groups of girls swooning over Zuko and it might be what they were going for. In this case, though, they’re swooning over him WITHOUT knowing who he is, as opposed to the fangirls in Nightmares and Daydreams. So, while it absolutely can be inspired on the many Zuko fangirls the staff knew about, this actually ends up serving to characterize a society, a culture: they don’t think his scar makes him unattractive. It’s blatantly stated that their reaction is the opposite. So, instead of thinking “oh god that’s so unrealistic”, how about we actually stop trying to measure everything by our standards and consider that this could be an element of WORLDBUILDING...? :’)

(Also, I’m pretty sure there’s a fair share of privileged young women in our current society who think Kylo Ren was hot as hell with a huge scar across his face... are those people not real, by any chance? :’D If anything, they’re living proof that girls swooning over a scarred boy in ATLA are absolutely feasible, no matter if not everyone shares their opinion)

Continues under the cut becasue this got long....

Now then, Azula is shown to take the Kuai ball game too far. She outright causes the ball, in the final kick, to burst into flames and burns the net. Going by Chan and Ruon Jian, these kids are privileged idiots, why lie... but are these privileged idiots stupid enough to see a girl flying three feet into the air, kicking a firebent ball and then giving a foreboding speech, and say “OKAY WE’RE GONNA PICK A FIGHT WITH YOU FOR BEING SO COMPETITIVE!”???? I mean... honestly. Why would anyone do this? Azula turned an inoffensive Kuai ball game into a battlefield singlehandedly: THIS, as well, is meant to be a display of characterization. That people don’t take the game so seriously, that they wouldn’t pick a fight with her because she’s dangerous or because they just don’t care as much as she does... it’s characterizing Fire Nation people every bit as much as it characterizes Azula.

Azula and Zuko are both shown reacting in ridiculous ways to casual things in this episode: Azula takes the game too far, potentially stages the burning down of a house in retaliation for being rejected by a boy, Zuko is hysterical and jealous and snaps at Mai over stupid things... it’s, again, a matter of showing how poorly adjusted these characters are. They’re not normal kids. They DON’T behave like normal kids. Normal, privileged kids in the Fire Nation, are kids like Chan and Ruon Jian. The episode literally gives you the chance to see Fire Nation society for what it is, in a way no other episode does... and because it’s not like our societies, it’s somehow wrong?

... Also, teenagers referring to themselves as teenagers is somehow unrealistic? I mean... is it nowadays? I don’t think any teenagers had a problem with saying they were teens in my youth :’DDD literally remember MCR released a song called Teenagers and a lot of us loved it to pieces. What exactly is so outrageous about it? Might be that this worked better in the mid-00′s, but I hardly think this makes no sense? Aang refers to himself as a kid earlier in the show, is that unrealistic too and worth rebuking a whole episode over? Are all teenagers supposed to be pretending to be grown-ups, like so many 16-year-olds on Tumblr who always talk like they’ve figured out the world and try to impose rules on fully-grown adults upon whom they have absolutely no power? :’DDDDD Yeah, I think this particular point is a stupid thing to make a fuss over. Honestly, it is.

Chan tells people not to make a mess = unrealistic. Ha. Did this person ignore his reactions at the chaos Azula, Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee caused in his house? “YOU BROKE MY NANA’S VASE!!!”, anyone? Like... I’m sorry, but this IS characterization, yet again! This shows Chan is a spoiled brat who wants to stay in his family’s good graces. The party isn’t at all as crazy and wild as you’d expect from, again, an American teenage party... and why? Because, for one thing, Chan is clearly afraid of the consequences of too much chaos in the beach house: this implies fear of authority, of his parents, perhaps even his grandparents.

For another, again, FIRE NATION SOCIETY: what does this clever critic know, by any chance, of Nazi Germany’s Hitler Youth? I’ve watched a few documentaries about it, and basically if you were a boy and you weren’t in Hitler Youth, you were no one. You were worthless. And what happened in Hitler Youth? Conditioning to the extreme. These kids were taught all the alt-right ideology that Tumblr despises, and they were made to believe it was an undeniable reality. Were there cases of kids who didn’t like it, kids who didn’t approve of it? Surely. But the general idea of Hitler Youth was to educate every kid to behave in the way Hitler considered appropriate, to the point where “the notion "Germany must live" even if they (members of the HJ) had to die was "hammered" into them.”

This is, of course, an extreme example and I’m sure Fire Nation education wasn’t that extreme because we saw it for ourselves, it’s not. But a slightly milder version of it? That’s absolutely feasible and consistent with what we see in The Headband. Therefore, kids getting high and drunk at a party? Maybe that kind of thing simply DOESN’T happen in a Fire Nation party? :’) Maybe they’re taught that those kinds of things are off-limits to anyone under a certain age (or outright forbidden, might be the case with drugs), and as they live in a tyrannical society that priorizes the Fire Lord and his decrees above all else, where his word is treated as that of a god, even mischievous teenagers refuse to act out? :’D oh, what an implausible concept, this just can’t possibly make any sense! Hitler Youth is unrealistic too!

Lastly, that a bunch of kids would sit in a circle psychoanalyzing each other seems implausible to this person is actually laughable for me. Not only have I constantly found myself, from my early teenage years to current days, serving as some sort of unofficial therapist for many of my friends, who share their woes and ask me for advice (whether they’ll heed it or not), most importantly, I once had an experience with a friend, back in high school, much like what happens with these kids in The Beach, after I’d spent years doing a lot of post-depression introspection. I shared a lot of stuff I didn’t often talk about, and beats me WHY I felt completely comfortable sharing it with my friend that day, but I did. She understood me, listened, offered her opinion, and we talked about her problems too. This happened when I was 15-16. If this person has never experienced such situation... why, that’s not anyone’s business. But it’s certainly not their business to determine this just DOESN’T happen, to anyone, ever. I can safely say it does, to people who do have problems and who sometimes just need a friendly shoulder to rely on. Maybe this critic’s life is just so perfect they’ve never had to share their woes with anyone else :’) I’m afraid that doesn’t invalidate those of us who are different, and it doesn’t invalidate the possibility that those four could talk, as they did, without breaking characterization, in the scene of the fireplace at the beach.

ANYWAYS...

Saying that a show about a group of kids who save the world and then effectively become leaders of such world, facing very little opposition in the process, is unrealistic because “teenagers aren’t like that becuase I wasn’t like that as a teenager” may be one of the most ridiculous and shortsighted things I’ve seen in this fandom, AND I’VE SEEN A LOT OF RIDICULOUS AND SHORTSIGHTED THINGS. A person’s experiences are NOT universal, regardless of how widespread their culture may be. More importantly, fiction does NOT have to abide by rules established by our current society’s state and cultural values. ATLA, as it is, is a completely different world from our own, regardless of its inspiration in many Asian cultures.

I, personally, find it a lot more unrealistic that Fire Lord Zuko can become Fire Lord without much in the way of visible protesting or boycotting when he was a banished prince who didn’t even win in his Agni Kai against Azula since it’s Katara who ends up defeating her and, as far as the rules go, Azula technically won even if not in the most dignified of ways. I find it even more unrealistic that LOK tells us Zuko was Fire Lord successfully for 70+ years and the Fire Nation has been fully reformed into a non-warmongering country despite the 100+ years of indoctrination started by Sozin’s rule. That this gets swept under a rug, not only in the neatly wrapped finale that leaves a thousand unanswered questions, but in the sequel show that merely confirms Zuko succeeded and shows NOTHING of how he managed to reform such a fucked up society...? That is a thousand times more important to me than “privileged kids aren’t acting like privileged kids OMG!”. Honestly, you want privileged kids abusing all their privileges in our society? Go watch Gossip Girl, I genuinely recommend it. You want something that proposes a completely different possibility and a glance at what a society guided by a tyrannical dictator looks like? Feel free to watch The Beach again with a completely different focus and MAYBE you’ll understand what the writers were going for.

If this person happens to see my answer, I hope they learn that worldbuilding, for a storyteller, entails CREATING a world that isn’t necessarily like the one we’re familiar with. There are multiple layers to such a world, and society and culture are some of them. Not all cultures and societies work the same way, which is part of why sometimes you’ll find behaviors from people who belong to wholly different cultures and wind up perplexed because whatever they’re doing is completely unfamiliar for you. Are there any universal behaviors in humans? Maybe! But in a work of FICTION, even the most universal of behaviors can be changed, deleted, altered however the writer sees fit! :’D it’s not a novel concept, and as far as logical fallacies are concerned, this show features a whole slew of those that have nothing to do with this peculiar sense of “realism”, fallacies that absolutely can and should be called out. Namely, things that contradict the internal logic of the show, rather than things that are incompatible with OUR world. Portraying a world that’s very different from ours, on virtually every level you can think of? That’s called creativity, not lack of realism. Please learn the difference.

#anon #... excuse me #but I got really unnerved by this one #just wtf #if this is supposed to be some sort of important critic #rather than a random someone on Tumblr #please don't ever watch anything they do ever again #realism ffs #BELIEVABILITY and realism are not the same damn thing #and solid worldbuilding requires the former not the latter #god I'll just #go chill #why #just why

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fantasy-pens · 4 years

Text

United by Love, Rain and Forgotten Umbrellas

Her eyes as blue as the merciful drops from the heaven. His eyes as green as the happy grass enjoying the heavenly showers. A tale of how forgotten umbrellas in the rain bring together the four lovable sides of the Love Square.

Chapter 2: Chocolate with Chat (MariChat)

Summary: Thunderstorms mean hot chocolate! Hot chocolate best served with whipped cream, marshmallows and....MARICHAT!!

(Kudos to Steyna Art for the bful drawing i found on the net <3 A link to the instagram post thanks to @khanofallorcs https://www.instagram.com/p/BqVH3TvhgoE/)

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“And there, all done!” the blond boy exclaimed, stretching himself as he got up from his chair.

“Phew! I thought that homework of yours would never end and I would have to stay up all night with you, kid!” complained the tiny, floating cat-god of destruction.

“Plagg, is that another way to say that you would have been cheesily romancing your sweet-smelling Camembert all night while I would have been smashing my head on the desk, pleading for you to stop?”

“Hey! I never complain when you are all flirty with Ladybug or Pigtails!”

“I do not flirt with Marinette! She is just a friend, Plagg,” Adrien defended.

“Oh really? Then why have your cheeks suddenly decided to compete with Ladybug's superhero suit in colour, huh loverboy?”

“Embarrassment! ” squeaked the part-time superhero, as he slapped his hands onto his cheeks and fervently tried to ignore the cheshire grin his cheese-loving friend was directing at him.

Nope. Nope . Nope.

Marinette was just a friend . Ladybug was the real love of his life.

Ugh! He needed fresh air! Now!

Maybe Plagg read his thoughts, for he suddenly spoke up, “Nuh uh, kid. If you are thinking of going out for a run, not now. It is gonna rain soon.”

The kwami, sadly, was right. Dark clouds were looming in the sky.

But what better chance to escape would he get than now, especially with Father and Nathalie out on a business meeting?

It would be a quick, short run. Nothing less, nothing more.

The boy looked with his best kitten eyes at the floating furball, but he didn’t relent. And Adrien really couldn’t afford to buy the floating stomach any more Camembert. Not that he had run out of money, but bank transactions made for wheels of smelly cheese? Suspicious. (And no one certainly wants Gabriel Agreste’s secret agents skimming through their money matters. Nuh uh.)

So, there was only one way left to get Plagg to agree.

“So Plagg, are you afraid of getting drenched in the rain, huh?”

“Nope. What makes you think that, kid?” the kwami asked dismissively.

Internally the kwami thought, “ What is this not-so-smart chosen of mine trying to do? ”

“Well, I see no other reason as to why you would not agree to us going for a run. The rain hasn’t even started yet! You are a cute little kitten at heart after all, right, Plagg?” As he said so, Adrien reached out and scratched the kwami lightly behind his ears.

Oh heavenly Camembert! The petting felt so good!

The kwami purred instinctively. “Aww, Plagg,” the blond said in a sugary-sweet cookie voice ( bleh! cookies! ), “who is a good kitty, hm?”

“I. Am. NOT. A. Kitten!”

“Oh really? Prove it, then!

Challenges were one of Plagg’s main weaknesses. (After Camembert, of course.)

“Kid, I am NOT scared of rain!” With a grumble, the kwami added, “You know the magic words.”

“That’s the spirit! Plagg, Claws Out! ”

One cool transformation sequence and scratch-dance later, Chat Noir stood where the model had been a few moments ago. Flexing and stretching himself like a feline, the superhero grabbed the baton clipped behind his back, and jumped onto and out of the open windowsill into the awaiting city.

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Jumping over rooftops with the cool wind blowing on his face sure was exhilarating.

The black-leather-clad boy was enjoying his sprint when suddenly something wet hit his head.

Wait, wet?

Looking up, Chat Noir caught just a glimpse of the heavy, dark clouds before SPLAT! Another drop fell on his forehead.

Damn, it hadn’t even been half an hour and he needed to get home soon. It wouldn’t do him good to fall sick, especially when he technically had not been out in the rain.

Breaking into another sprint, Chat Noir prepared himself to scale the alley in front of him when he felt the roof under him move. Or rather, his foot was moving back faster than normal.

With a yelp, the cat lost his footing and slid down the slanted roof into the alley below.

Oh god no! He surely wasn’t in the mood to be soaked-cat-pancake today!!

Grabbing his baton, Chat pressed the pawprint on it just in time for the device to lengthen up and get lodged in between two open windows (truly the luck of a ladybug), leaving him hanging from it, badly shaken but safe and sound.

As he tried to get his bearings back, he heard someone entering the dark alley.

“It surely is raining Chats and dogs today,” a familiar voice called out from below.

“Purrincess!” Chat exclaimed, shrinking his baton back to normal and landing softly (and with normalcy) on the ground.”To what does this knight owe the purr-leasure?”

“Well, I was passing by, and saw you experimenting whether Newton was correct with his claims about gravity,” Marinette said, bursting into laughter. “Sorry chaton , I just couldn’t help myself. Especially after that nerve-wracking study session I had with Alya.” The girl held her forehead in a dramatic manner. “Oh goodness! Woe is me!”

The superhero-in-black couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, well, little lady. Have you secretly been taking drama lessons from my kwami in exchange for cheese danishes?” Chat added with a wink.

Earlier, Marinette would have had to act all stupidly confused about what a kwami was. But now that Chat knew that she was Multimouse, things were a lot easier between the two.

Ever since Chat had first appeared on her balcony an year ago, the two of them had struck a chord. Somewhere, maybe in the banters, puns or the heartfelt emotions shared under the starry sky, the two of them had grown close, becoming the best of friends.

“Who knows? Maybe I am?” she said nonchalantly with a shrug, a hint of smirk visible on her face.

Striking up a mock thinking pose, Chat commented, “Well, well, mice love cheese. You two would have surely bon- ACHOO!”

The sneeze seemed to bring Marinette back to awareness that the teenage superhero was soaked head-to-toe in the rain.

“Damn, Kitty, which wise sage gave you the advice to go patrolling on a day like this? Come’ere,” saying so, the girl pulled him in with herself under her umbrella. “Good thing I left Alya's place after the rain started and she gave me this umbrella, or else I myself would have been drenched by now. Forgetful me. But anyways, you," she said, shoving a finger in his chest and eliciting an “oof! ” from him, “are coming with me and getting all warmed up before you catch a cold. I won’t accept a no,” she added, making the cat hero close his mouth that he had opened in hopes of protest. Instead, he smirked and bent down in an elaborate bow.

“Your wish is my command, ma princesse .”

His comment was rewarded by an eye-roll and slight chuckle.

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Marinette ushered the young superhero in through the backdoor, away from the prying eyes of any customers, and especially her parents.

However, it seemed as though Chat’s bad luck had finally caught up with them (or more specifically, her ) as she opened the door to the house only to find her dad standing there, in a position that clearly showed that he had been about to open the door just a moment ago.

“Mon petit cupcake , welcome back! How were your lessons with Al...” her dad’s voice trailed off as he noticed the cat-themed boy behind her.

Meanwhile, Chat was a bit….nervous? Queasy? Or was terrified a more appropriate word? After all, having seen and been beaten up by Weredad had NOT been a pleasant experience. And who knows what thoughts were right now running through Mr. Dupain’s mind on seeing his daughter (whose heart Chat had once broken) with him? It was extremely natural for him to feel self-conscious all of a sudden. But now that he had been noticed, well.

“Hi, Mr. Dupain,” the boy weakly offered, plastering a shaky, nervous smile on his face.

The huge man kept looking at him blankly. Chat started mentally pep-talking to himself to deal with this awkw- WOAH! All the air left the boy’s lungs as he was suddenly scooped up in a teddy-bear hug.

“My goodness, Chat Noir! Superheroing has sure made you go thin, my boy! And please, just call me Tom,” the baker said laughing.

“Su-sure….thi-thing, Mr. Dup-I mean...To-Tom,” the hero wheezed.

“Papa! Chat Noir will be able to call you Tom only when you give him some air to breathe!!” Marinette interjected, worried that the black cat might pass out soon from the lack of air.

“Ah! Sorry young man,” Tom put the boy down, clapping his shoulders. “I must say, you are all drenched! I don’t know if that suit is designed to keep you from getting soaked, so get warmed up and stay here till the rain stops, okay?” He turned to Marinette, “Sweetheart, make sure to keep our guest cosy. We wouldn’t want our superheroes to fall sick, after all! In case you children need anything, Sabine and I will be downstairs. Have fun!” With a booming laugh, the guardian of the house took his leave.

“Well, that hug certainly warmed me up,” Chat said, breaking the silence. “I am glad he is not mad at me anymore. For the...uh, you know..”

The ravenette smiled and placed a comforting hand on his shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault, Kitty. What I had was a fleeting celebrity crush. And what really makes me glad is that you truly adore Ladybug. Now,” grasping the blonde hero’s shoulders, Marinette turned him around, pushing him up the stairs, “go up and dry yourself up. You will find the towel on the chaise, if I remember correctly. I will make us some hot chocolate.”

“Okay, okay, princesse , I am going up!”

Saying so, the hero went away and Marinette busied herself in the kitchen. She had just put milk in a saucepan when...

“Wow! I must say, your room sure has some interesting decorations, purrincess!”

Interesting decorations? Wait, she had taken off the Adrien pictures from her walls and..

GOD!! Did she leave her computer on??!! Oh, hell no!!!

Dashing up the stairs, Marinette threw the trapdoor open, not caring about the banging sound it made. She COULD NOT let the sauve cat see the heart doodle background of Adrien on her computer!! Oh goodness, she would never hea-

Her computer was turned off.

Laughter attracted her attention, making her turn her head to see the teenage hero on the ground, laughing and struggling for air.

“Oh. My. Kwami. Tha-that rea-reaction...wow princess! HAHAHAHAHAHA! You just made my day!” He broke into another fit of giggles.

“Not. Funny. Dry yourself up, chaton ,” the girl deadpanned, giving him her best you-do-not-amuse-me look.

“Aww come on princess,” Chat said, putting up a mock pout as he literally crawled towards her, “don’t be a wet blanket, paw-lease?”

“Wet blanket? What on earth are you- CHAT, NO! ” the girl screeched as all of a sudden, the hero shook his head, spraying water droplets on her.

Stopping the activity, the hero looked up at her flirtatiously through the wet hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, water still dripping from them. “Chat, yes, Purr-incess,” he said, winking at her as he flicked her nose.

Damn. He looked so flirtatiously ho-

NO! Bad Marinette! Your heart is reserved only for Adrien.

Well, best to break the kitty’s smoulder.

“No cookies for you,” saying so, the girl smugly walked down the stairs, ignoring the mock wail of despair that followed her.

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So will our kitty get the cookies? Or is Marinette going to punish him for his tomfoolery? With Marichat, fluff and fun are bound to happen! And so are the heart-to-heart talks. To know what happens next, continue reading the chapter on the links below!

Read on Ao3 here

Read on ffn here

Thanks for all the reviews, likes, reblogs, favorites, subscribes, follows, kudos and comments <3

#miraculous fanfic #marichat #fluff #friendship #hurt #comfort #heart to heart talks #adrien needs a good parent #humor #cuteness #chat being an idiot #puns #miraculous love square

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count-v-dracula · 4 years

Text

The Most Random Questions about your Muse

*Copy and paste. Do not reblog*

Name: Vladislaus, most commonly referred to as Dracula

1) Do they believe in true love?

No. In fact the subject of love is something he does not like getting into with just anyone.

2) Do they believe that their life has meaning?

Yes, and no. As a human he was told that he had meaning, or more like a purpose, and he believed it and acted on it. Even then he was occasionally doubtful about his purpose. Currently, he’s caught in between. He took immortality to gain what was denied him as a human, but he continues to face trials that cause him to doubt.

3) What first impression do they give when they first meet someone?

Depends, sometimes. If it is a human that has heard of him prior to ever meeting him, they’ll probably be frightened by his demeanor more than his physicality. He can give off the impression that he is cool and reserved, or that he is welcoming and talkative--depends on his mood and the occasion. Fear can also mix with intrigue; he has that old world elegance that can draw you in.

4) Do they believe in Heaven/Hell?

It’s complicated and yes.

5) FIVE things that irritate them

1) insolence

2) ignorance

3) laziness

4) self-righteous behavior

5) disloyalty

6) First Kiss?

He was 15 (had to go through my headcanons tag and found it)! It was a girl of the court that was trying to make Mehmed II jealous by making moves on Vlad. Vlad welcomed it because he liked her, but Mehmed was furious because he was actually after Vlad (since he already got Radu he went after Vlad).

7) What do they find funny that other’s usually don’t?

Dark humor.

8) Biggest Regret?

The one that has really stuck with him is that he regrets not having been able to look after his younger brother properly. Even as a kid he was forced into roles of being a leader and protector.

9) THREE words that best describe them

1) charming

2) brave

3) loyal

10) Their most attractive feature

First thing people will notice about Vlad is his very blue eyes. They really stand out against his dark hair. His hair would then be next then everything else, in that order.

11) The feature that they find most attractive?

A good smile will melt him. Then it’s legs. I mean look at Verona and Marishka. Aleera got in only because she was spicy - so that made up for her lack of height. After legs it’s arms.

12) Favorite Song Lyric:

“Thus, wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb, O let me dying live, till death doth come, till death doth come.”

13) Best advice they’ve ever received:

Do unto others before they do unto you.

14) Worst advice they’ve ever received:

Act on your passions.

15) What makes them cry?

He probably hasn’t cried in a couple centuries. It would take something horrible for him to. But, he tends to compartmentalize emotions, especially the ones he doesn’t want to indulge and then they collect dust and are forgotten. Anyway, something horrible. What normally causes someone to cry makes him terrifyingly angry.

16) Hardest decision they ever had to make?

To do what he wanted, not what the Church wanted him to do. His loyalty to two things was being torn.

17) What makes them fond of someone?

Innocence usually makes him smile, not in a way that he wants to snuff it out, but that it makes him recall his own few innocent days. Other souls troubled like him he is also drawn to. Intelligence is also a major factor, similar interests. Passionate people.

18) Do they believe in forgiveness?

He does not usually forgive others and he doesn’t seek it for himself unless he really messed up. Privately, he thinks is beyond forgiveness, he’s always felt that way, Catholic and all......

19) Biggest TURN ON

Acts of service. Always. Anything that says “hey I did this for you because I know this would make you happy” You’re golden.

20) Biggest TURN OFF

Coming on too strong if he doesn’t welcome it, disloyalty (so far loyalty is a freaking big issue with him on this meme XD), fickle-mindedness, laziness, etc., etc.

21) Any fetishes/kinks?

Being dominant, sadism, bondage for starters.

22) Do they have a perception of god?

Yes, yes. Having been raised in the Catholic church and being affiliated with Eastern Orthodoxy, too. He looked to God as a comforter and redeemer up until his life change. He now views God as someone who is selfish and unforgiving. He has no faith in Him anymore clearly. You could say the Devil gave him wings because God did not...

23) A memory from their childhood that shaped them

Ouch. His childhood wasn’t always pleasant (having been a political prisoner, kept from his family, raised for several years not in his own country, beaten occasionally and not fed for days because of his defiant behavior, etc.) so it’s gonna be a not-so-good memory. Look here for something bitter-sweet.

24) birthday and zodiac sign:

December 16th. Sagittarius.

25) Do they agree with said zodiac sign?

To an extent, yes. Sagittarius is the sign of the real Vlad and I believe it fits mine. He is a true fire sign: ambitious, outspoken, likes to display strength, etc. Many would say Scorpio but *taps mic* not every villainous person is a Scorpio. He probably has a lot of Scorpio though in other aspects/houses/planets.

26) What is ONE thing that they wish they could change about themselves?

How he handles his lack of emotions....(or so he thinks)

27) A dream that they have never told anyone

There is one but he’s not saying one word about it.

28) Do they believe in fate?

Yes. And no. It’s complicated.

29) Favorite season:

Autumn/Winter

30) FIVE favorite singers/bands/performers

Elvis Presley, John Dowland, Julie London, Metallica, Maria Callas, Glen Miller

TAGGED BY: @desanctii (thank you :D )

TAGGING: @adara-of-the-flame @astridnorddottir @scarletxcross @summerxmelodies @qceensofkings and anyone else who wants to steal it!

#about the master;;#headcanon #dash games;;#[ under a read more cause whoops it got long ]

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beautifulramblingbrains · 7 years

Text

Bound By Honour - Chapter 4

Pairing: Eric/OC *Sarah* Fandom: Divergent/Insurgent Rating: M -

Eric has the best hand in all the factions, but can’t seem to get to grips with his life as a parent to two grown Dauntless members. The honour is passed to Sarah as she battles with the woes of an unruly daughter and a wayward son. Balanced with a intricate web of personal struggles and outsiders, can they stop their family from falling apart?

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story and all the shares and likes. It’s all appreciated.

Tags: @singingpeople @equalstrashflavoredtrash@pathybo@beltz2016 @ariwolff14 @lostinthebeans@kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995@jojuarez26 @tigpooh67 @mom2reesie@lilu46 @murmelinchen @lauraaan182

The only thing comforting, is that Sarah seems slightly more at peace than usual. Her body is tucked warmly up against Eric in bed while he lays on his back, arm wedged beneath his head, watching her sleep. The apartment is silent, a cautioning reminder of the passive lie that spilled from his lips earlier.

As per usual, he’d easily shoved the thought from mind; going about his business, seducing his wife from the after tremors of utter depravity. But here, in this instant, it shouted louder. Eric chews his lip, becoming agitated with the inability to sleep as soundly as the person clutching onto him. But he needed to do this; to be in this open position to console his constantly worrying spouse.

Some things were harder to rid of than others. And in all the years, being the honest and open person of compassion he knew Sarah didn’t really expect but no doubt wished he could be, had never changed him. They opted to fall into unsaid roles. Rules, boundaries, and protection, he offered without say. Sarah was the one for honesty, advice, the one who listened beyond anything. Eric would teach the kids to fight, and Sarah would wipe their tears. He would tell them war-stories and theories, where Sarah told fairy tales. He found it difficult to hurdle from Leader to parent where she had no difficulty shutting out what didn’t really matter.

He sounds jealous. And maybe he is to a degree. Simply because he really can’t rid of something that is dug so deep that even though the outer layer of its scars had disappeared, the skin underneath remained dormant but affected. Eric couldn’t change everything that made him who he is.

Some of his love that he displayed could be called into question on whether it was taught rather than something that came from the soul, perhaps habit. It was something to fear, a new fear. He feared Sarah would tire, or more precisely, had been tiring of him. A change in their habitual lives, the one he has created, he thought would enhance their shambling and recently slackened pace in marriage.

Before it was easy, years ago, when the children were younger and Sarah had them as her sole focus. If it wasn’t the kids, it was what they needed in their home to make it theirs. If it wasn’t decorating, it was guiding her side of the family. If it wasn’t family, her focus was on him and what he was doing in his career. She was occupied, busy - and glumly he thinks to himself, happy. Now it was different. They didn’t want or need anything because he’d made damn sure that they didn’t go without. And it was to a point that he thought that perhaps it was maybe too much, he’d dulled their sense of worth, laid an easy walk-way to old age.

Eric shudders physically.

Before Erudite started sniffing around, Sarah had been nothing more than an honoured version of Betty, watching her children become more independent without the need for her. And if she thought for a minute he didn’t notice her spiralling helplessly, without something to focus on, he would openly allow her to call him a dumb cunt.

The line of thought lingers on what he explained to Jack - some needed a push, some didn’t. It is, however, almost laughable that every time he needed to push Sarah, it backfired terribly; and Jack becoming injured within the first week of guard duty was a severe example. Was he that much of a monster that things would fuck up whenever it had to do with the most important things in his life? Did he - because of the nagging inner monster - purposefully, yet utterly unknowingly, fuck things up for the sake of it?

A cluttering bang comes from the hallway, just outside the bedroom door. Sarah’s body tenses up beside him, moving automatically to sit up, but instead, Eric lays a hand on her shoulder, steadying her and sitting himself up to her eye level.

“It’s April,” she tells him, a crack of sleep in her voice.

Eric cups the side of her face and pulls her towards his lips, mildly letting them touch, keeping his expression intentionally soft. “I’ll go.” Sarah is beautiful like this; unembellished, and every ounce of retaliation drained from the day. Her smile is gentle and warming, satisfied with this subtle act of parenting. If only she knew that it was out of guilt.

She seems to think about it for a long second, her mouth still pulled into a heart-warming smile as an “Okay,” slips through her lips. The white sheets pulled up against her body as she lays her head back down onto the pillow are almost the same sensational color of her skin. He takes the opportunity to trace his fingers along the curvature of her hip before throwing his legs down and fetching his boxers, roughly yanking them up his legs. Sarah’s eyes linger on the permanently etched swirling patterns of names on his body for every person he cared for the most. And as he passes, he grabs her feet for staring too long.

Eric yawns carelessly once out of the room, making sure to shut the door behind him. He rubs at his chest tiredly, tracing to the light at the end of the hall that was April and Jack’s shared bathroom.

“Mom?” April whispers into the bowl of the toilet, retching still, obviously sensing the shadow appearing timely in the doorframe.

“No,” Eric states casually, watching her glance up to him then back down in her sickness haze.

“Where’s mom?” She scratches at the toilet roll hanging beside her, pulling on it and unravelling it messily to wipe her mouth.

“Mom’s tired of this shit,” he sighs, perching himself on the edge of the bath and crossing his arms. “I’m tired of this shit,” he speaks listlessly. “Everyone’s tired of this shit. Are you not tired of this shit, April?”

“Just go away!”

Ignoring her, he continues. “You have a drinking problem, or, you are a stupid, standard, drama-seeking individual and the only way to get the attention of your mom without dropping your false, hardened exterior, is to drink.”

“If you’re not helping, go away!”

“Of course, I’m not fucking helping you. You got yourself in this state, you can deal with it. It’s pretty amusing to watch. Do we only get the liberty of seeing you like this? Does no one else know?”

“Fuc-“ April has barely any time to finish because Eric grabs the back of her hair and pushes her face down into the toilet, her arms bracing either side to stop him but she is easily overpowered.

“This. Stops. Now.” Eric keeps her there, tightening his hold against her scalp for only a grunt in answer. “Obviously letting this faze run its course isn’t helping. Trying to speak to you about it is out of the question. Your reputation is at an all-time low. Your work is poor. Your respect is non-existent…”

“Dad-“ He shakes her head for good measure, and to stop whatever bullshit was about to spill from her mouth.

“If this happens again; if you speak to me or your Mom like shit again, if you don’t turn up for work, if you even so roll your eyes at me, I will make you eat what is in this bowl. Do you understand?” The threat has suddenly sobered her, and he releases her the moment she agrees with a shaky nod. “What was it you said?” Eric crouches down to her level as she leans back against the sink unit, staring up with wide eyes and tears streaking her face. “I better check myself because I’m losing it? Or something along those lines anyway.” Eric loosens his expression, touching her head with a fatherly tenderness. “Trust me, you don’t want me to check myself.”

April nods silently in understanding.

“Sarah is not to know…” Mark says firmly over the phone to Mary as she stands in the middle of the dining room, Anna seated at the table waiting to begin work that morning. Briefly she looks to her, then to a plain spot of the wall again.

“She’s my sister-”

“Eric has told me not to even mention it to you. I could get into real trouble.” The sound of wind rustles from his end of the line, smothering his voice for a moment.

“Sarah knew this was a bad idea. She just knew.”

“She couldn’t know it would be the hundred in one chance of being shot by friendly fire. There has been no incidents apart from this one time a Coulter touches the ground in Amity.”

Torn, she opts to change the subject a little. “How is Jack?”

“Well, all things considering. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

“I guess he’ll be sent home?”

There’s a hesitation from Mark which already makes her think otherwise. “He’s to stay here. Once back on his feet he’ll be watching from a distance. Hopefully healed by the time the month is up.”

“How can I face her knowing what I know. She’ll ask me if I have spoken to you. I can’t lie, Mark.”

“Play the fool,” he suggests. “If you say you don’t know, then you’re only telling a white lie. It’s for her peace of mind at the end of the day.”

“It’s to save that barbaric brother-in-law of mine’s skin!” she erupts angrily, scaring Anna. “Please tell me you would never keep anything from me, not like that.”

“I promise.” From his side, it becomes loud with other people talking. “I’ve got to go. Hug Eliza for me. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies sadly. Turning back to Anna, the girl asks her if she is okay by signing with her hands. “I’m fine. But nothing leaves this room.” She chews her lip for only a moment. “Right, let’s get to work.”

Eric is not avoiding Sarah, so he tells himself. He watches her from across the Mess Hall with that irritating friend Stacey. What they are talking about he has no idea, but it’s expressive on Stacey’s behalf as his wife blossoms next to her in a fit of laughter.

He hasn’t touched the food in front of him; three chicken breasts and a pile of broccoli especially ordered by him from the day before. He’s merely letting the fork stab the broccoli multiple times while lost in thought as he is joined by people, one being Glen slipping in beside him.

“Get your protein in, mate. Your gains are screaming for it,” Glen comments, already shoving in a mouthful. When Eric doesn’t reply, he halts. “What’s gone wrong?”

“Did you know we have a potential faction disaster right under our noses?” Eric asks a question he knew the answer to, already having gone over Sarah’s paperwork from Erudite. “That it’s a sanitary problem. That it affects three factions, one being ourselves?”

“I… I haven’t seen any reports?” Glen scratches his head in thought.

“I haven’t sent it out yet. I got around to reading it only about half an hour before lunch. Lost my appetite.” Eric still watches Sarah in the distance as he speaks. The sewers weren’t the only thing clogging up his stomach. “What are we thinking about this Blake guy? You got anything on him.”

“Briefly looked him up the first day he arrived. Studious guy, involved with architecture, an endless list in mumbo jumbo science, of course. Elected into a top position recently. Good with people, apparently. Pretty straight-laced guy on paper.”

Eric hums in response. “Anything from Candor?”

“Eating out the palm of our hands. No worries there. I think if we delay our decision a little it will coerce them into siding completely with us. They want the attraction to their faction, we’ve got what they want. Easy deal. Unless… you’re thinking of backing out?” Glen tilts his head questioningly and Eric finally breaks his stare from across the room, digging into the now cold chicken.

“If they think I will shut down the policing faction’s primary containment unit, they really are as dumb as I think.”

“They won’t like it.”

“I’m not completely leaving them out though…” Eric continues over the top of Glen. “They can have an overflow unit for the time being, so they see we are true to our word for now.”

“A placebo? Nice.”

“Not entirely. It’s fit to work, but whether it’s used…” He smirks at him. “I couldn’t say.” Eric pours himself a drink, pausing for a moment. “The Erudite issue was mainly a palm off to Sarah while we worked on factional trust issues. It’s become more complicated…” he trails off, wary of sharing his thoughts. “I want a team sent down to check it out for ourselves.”

“You think it’s dodgy, boss?”

“Trust your own nose, not that of others. Let’s see how genuine our Erudite friend is.” Sarah catches his eye again, and this time she notices him, fluttering her fingers in a graceful, shy wave; one he reciprocates to, looking a little foreign coming from his serious conversation and outer appearance.

“Our Erudite friend has a lot of lady admirers. Betty’s swooning,” Glen scoffs casually.

Eric sips his drink again, watching his wife turn away. He hadn’t missed the part on the notes stating that Erudite wanted to view Blake as a permanent leader of their faction, or that they wanted to branch out and share the city’s official duties with this up and coming young man.

A small sense of betrayal from years of gruelling personal work begins to burn deep in his gut. He won’t let that happen.

April has the effects of last night printed on her face; heavy bags, pale, feeling shaky as she crosses the pit. She ignores some friends that don’t particularly notice her anyway, to her luck, and begins heading towards intelligence to take up a shift of surveillance for the afternoon to which she was informed of by her dad late that morning.

She kind of regrets goading him. She isn’t stupid. She knew of stories about her father. Actually, she had wanted to see that almighty tyrant for the sake of its long-lived reputation. The endless taunts of an Abnegation mother had ultimately trimmed her wings with people born and raised into Dauntless, like she was a defect because of her genes. Yes, her mother wasn’t all that bad and had been there for her when she needed her, but it didn’t help the fact that she despised her for her kindness too. This was Dauntless, and any person could see that the woman didn’t fit here, no matter how well Sarah did manage to blend in. It was a disgrace. It was pitiful of her father and a complete scandal.

“Ugh!” April hadn’t been watching where she was going, flying straight into a tall man that steadies her with his hand on her shoulder. Naturally, she shrugs him off quickly. “Watch… it…” She loses her voice, staring up to the latest gossip, Mr Blake Hammond. From this view she could see now how the rumors of his attraction were true. He wasn’t typically Erudite – apart from the navy long-tailed jacket and crisp shirt underneath. But it was his features; a dusting of facial hair, the short and tidy brown waves on his head gelled smartly to one side, the dark blue eyes that were almost black under the heavy Dauntless lighting, and his jaw line...

“Easy there. It was a mutual mistake, we both weren’t particularly paying attention,” he says with a chuckle.

April watches his lips as he talks – full lips. His shoulders are broad, his frame competing with a gym enthusiast. Did Erudite even have gyms? Shaking her head, she stammers, “Er… yeah.” Er, yeah? Seriously? Is that the best she could come up with? Licking her lips, she says, “Sorry. I was thinking… about surveillance terminology…” Really April, really? She shifts from one foot to the other.

“Is that like, Tango, Bravo, Delta?”

She smiles. “Something like that.”

Blake laughs. “Was I that bad?”

“You aren’t winning any awards.”

“Ah!” he exclaims. “But I already have.” The young girl scrunches her face up in curiosity. “I’ve won your friendship.”

If only he knew it was because he was good looking. “I suppose.” She grins wickedly. “Can I help you at all?”

“I’m heading up to the infamous Leader’s suite.” His secretive eyes roam over her for a long moment, and he reaches out, stroking down a small piece of her hair. “I may be wrong, but you have a very familiar look about you.” April blushes shamelessly from his touch. “You are a Coulter.”

“April Coulter.”

“How rude, I should’ve asked for your name, but I guess it’s because I’m merely male.” She laughs genuinely this time. “Listen, April, I’m already behind this afternoon. I’m actually supposed to be meeting with your mother…” he checks his watch quickly with an enthusiast flick of his wrist, “right about now. It’s a shame. I was really beginning to enjoy myself.”

“Another time.” She says randomly, then realizing how that sounds, her eyes widening the tiniest in horror.

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse. Until next time!” He bows his head politely, taking a step and then stopping. “You have beautiful hair, I bet it’s magnificent natural.”

Before she has time to process his words, she’s touching the ends of her straightened-to-death hair, suddenly not loathing the idea of being cursed with her mother’s waves. That was a first. “Thank you, Mr Blake Hammond,” she says to no one, perkier than she had been all morning.

“So… how are you… feeling?” That was not a typical question for Eric, and it sounded just as awkward leaving his mouth. He sits back in his desk chair, flicking at the mouse with the door open so he would know the minute Sarah would enter the suite by her usual greeting to Betty. He’d left the mess hall before her to get in a call before she arrived.

Jack groans, taking a breath before answering. “Okay.”

“That’s good.”

“I... er, thought mom would have called by now. I’m actually surprised she’s not here,” Jack chuckles a little but it’s heavy and miserable.

“Yeah, that’s what I want to talk to you about. I think it’s best if we don’t worry your mom with what’s happened. We know what she’s like. She’s also busy with Erudite, already stressed over it.”

“Would be nice to just hear her voice though. I won’t tell her.”

“I’ll get her to call you once you’ve healed further,” Eric finalizes, tapping his fingers impatiently. “Do you need anything?”

Jack sighs a little. “Not really. How’s April?”

“April is being April. I’m hoping she’ll turn a new leaf soon with some incentive.” Eric briefly thinks of last night. “We’ll see.” He’s barely finished when suddenly Sarah’s voice trails down the hallway. “I’ll call you the same time tomorrow, my meeting is about to start,” he lies naturally for the hundredth time.

“Okay, tell mom…” the change of tone from Jack has Eric look down to the floor for only a second. “Tell her I miss her.”

Eric closes his eyes feeling the weight of everything beginning to bow his shoulders, pushing him to tell Jack, “I’ll come visit you in the next few days.” Tiredly, he rubs at his forehead, trying to plan ahead a time slot to take the long journey to Amity. “I’ve got to go.”

“Bye, dad.” Eric can’t say goodbye, almost throwing the phone into the holder and rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes painfully.

“What’s happened?” Sarah’s holding the doorframe, with an annoyingly concerned expression on her face. “Eric?”

“What?” he snaps, his head jerking up to her, halting her from moving more towards him. He struggles with realigning his thoughts. “What hasn’t happened, Sarah? What can I be possibly stressed about?” His words drip in nasty sarcasm and her concerned expression falls to something he saw in one of the soldiers he’d reprimand on a daily basis, making him stand and sigh, “Just a shitty report, that’s all.” She still appears slightly put out as he approaches her. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, that’s what I’m here for.”

Slowly she begins to smile. “What bothers you bothers me. You know that...”

“I like this.” He twirls a long strand of hair that hangs over her shoulder. “I was thinking earlier while watching you that there was something rebellious about you today. I think it’s this,” he insinuates the half up, half down hair style.

“You were watching me?”

“I can’t quite help myself.”

“Are you flirting with me, Mr Coulter?”

Eric’s eyes flash dangerously. “And if I was?”

“I’d be very careful, my husband is a very powerful man…”

“Oh yeah?” he drawls. “Keep going…”

“He likes my skirts that I wear that are one inch higher than normal. Though I was unaware he even noticed, and it wasn’t intentional…” She shrugs. “I didn’t really think it was his thing.”

“Well, I better take a look and see. Your efforts shouldn’t go to waste.” He lets his hands trail down to her thighs, surprisingly lifting her as she laughs and pushes her face into the crook of his neck, her breath warm, familiar; her scent shrouding him in the proximity. Her shrieks of utter joy could well be heard halfway down the hall.

They end up clumsily against the outer wall of his office, and he lets her slip down to her tiptoes, pausing a moment to the feel of her nails raking through the back of his hair. When she stops laughing, he claims her lips. It’s an almost overwhelming kiss; the small groan spurring him on, traveling to her jaw and down her neck as her arms fly out to catch herself against the wall. Her chest heaves against the top buttons of her dress and she’s saying fuck knows what under her breath. With the expression he catches, her face turned away to allow him all the access he needs, eyes closed, mouth open – he knows she’s game.

But that groan turns into a shocked and sharp, “Eric!”

The next thing he knows, she’s shoving him away, pulling down her skirt. Eric turns to glare at the intruder, but Sarah takes over the situation. “I’m sorry, Mr Hammond. If you would please just wait in the… er, boardroom? I’ll be right with you.”

Blake looks between the two, stammering something and instead motions with a finger that he’s leaving, disappearing from sight.

“Yeah, you cockblocker,” Eric mumbles, wiping his mouth and going back to his desk.

Sarah turns towards him, holding her flushed cheeks. “Oh my god!”

“You can tell him I said that by the way…” Eric states, finding a pen and flicking off the lid, trying to let his blood flow back from his lower head to his top.

“That’s so unprofessional. How can I face him now?”

“You’re my wife. This is my office,” Eric continues sulkingly, an idea suddenly springing to mind that he keeps to himself. “Interruptions better not become a thing, I don’t like sharing nor not getting my dick wet after I put the effort in.”

“Eric, that’s a vile thing to say.”

But he merely smirks knowingly. “Work beckons you, sweetheart. Better get to it.”

“You’re a rude man,” Sarah says firmly, flattening down her hair and checking herself before striding to the door.

“Yeah, yeah… You love it.”

Her head pops back in one last time. “On occasion.” And Eric almost chokes.

Sarah practices her smile a few times before pushing the door to the boardroom open and greeting Blake. He’s sitting in the seat nearest to the one on the end she usually takes, and cautiously she joins him, not wanting to appear to change for the sake of him imposing himself. “Mr Hammond-“

“Blake, Sarah. I’ve told you before, it’s Blake.”

“Blake. I apologize for what-“

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t. I’m fully aware of the dynamics between husband and wife. We’ll just pretend that it never happened and talk about boring building logistics instead.” He smiles brightly at her. “I’m here at such short notice as there are some readjustments to parts I made last night which I feel are important….” He pushes a sheet of paper towards her.

“Are you telling me that most of these blueprints are from your own hand?” She scans the measurements. “This… this must have taken hours.”

His eyes linger on her face, pleased that she noticed. “Until two AM. I promised expansion and I deliver. A leadership built on trust is what Erudite deserves now. I feel time is of the essence, and for years it’s stood still.”

It’s a jibe towards Eric that she doesn’t miss. “I can’t fault anyone on personal or factional drive, but pointing fingers is an unsafe path.”

“I’m certainly not pointing fingers. It’s a factual statement proven by records. We’re evolving, Sarah, at a much faster rate than anticipated. One hundred years from now, we’ll need to expand outwardly; through the wall. The greatest achievement ever made is under the safe roof your husband has created. Our genes are now guarded against divergency. We have a clean record to work from. He has done his part... please, now let me do mine. The Erudite expansion is the very beginning. Look how well Amity have thrived from theirs. Together, we could start something extremely wonderful.”

“By improving Erudite’s facilities?” she asks skeptically.

Blake clasps his hands together. “Candor have potentially sealed their own deal on keeping their faction stately. Dauntless is evolving through Eric and his own authority. This is my faction’s chance. I’m sure Abnegation will soon follow. I like to call it, the domino effect. It’s written and can be seen very clearly.”

“And your personal gain is promotion to heading Erudite,” Sarah sums up.

He reaches out and covers her hand still on the blueprint papers. “All I want is a better relationship; to start anew, and destroy the backlash we have received through the years that Jeanine had created. Things are different now, and we cannot be afraid.”

“Eric is not afraid.”

“Eric is not here with us right now. It is you solely controlling this. And…” He hesitates for a moment, before he says, “I know what happened all those years ago. I’m not blind to why you’re cautious on taking a chance on Erudite. But your fear cannot control the future.”

Sarah pulls her hand away. “I am not afraid. This has nothing to do with us personally.”

“Then why is Abnegation’s council still stripped? Why is any maintenance controlled? Or more rightly – a lack of maintenance. Patrols are still active at least seventy percent of the time, they themselves armed. For what? Protection?”

Sarah feels her back beginning to sweat under the scrutiny. “It’s the way it has always been. It’s precaution.”

Blake shakes his head with other ideas. “And when Eric steps down?”

She thinks of her son taking his place and can barely imagine it. She couldn’t imagine anyone else fronting Dauntless. In fact, she couldn’t bear the image of them being old and watching everything Eric had built change and utterly powerless to stop it. “When you step up?” she asks rhetorically. “I could ask you about why serum testing is still happening. We could question everything. But what we know right now, at this moment, is that it works.”

“Temporarily. We are still stuck with the word: temporarily. Many people feel that until Eric steps down, we will be stuck in some worldly limbo. People tend to remember others when they have only done bad; every historical figure - Jeanine can be my main example. Do you want them to remember that of Eric… of you?”

“You are purposefully abusing my good nature, Mr Hammond.” She turns in her chair and he slaps his palm on the table.

“My intentions are clear. I will not let my name and abuse be in the same sentence! I’m telling the truth and a lack of it can only then be considered as abuse. Do you want me to beg? Do you need me to beg you for this chance?”

He moves from his seat to his knees in front of her and Sarah throws a look up at the door. “No, please, Blake…” she hisses.

But he ignores her plea and gently holding her hands, he pulls them closer towards his chest. “My image is not important to me. I just want you to know how serious I truly am. Give me the go ahead today and I will not fail you.”

Sarah doesn’t know how to react. She was only ever used to Eric’s nature. Seeing a grown man so vulnerable topples her stiffened composure. “For the good of the factions…” she begins. “Not for us, or you, Mr Hammond. I will give you my written consent. It’s an advisory notice until Eric has cleared-”

Blake scrambles up and pulls her head down to him, kissing her cheek, his face merely inches from hers. She’s too stunned to continue her line of thought, caressing the spot where his lips had been seconds before. “Thank you, Sarah.”

“It’s… it’s advisory, Mr-”

“Your word is as good as his own.” He backs off only a little, pushing a single paper towards her, and she signs it in her numbness. “Excuse my outburst. And thank you again for seeing me today.” Briefly, he brushes down the front of his jacket, standing to his full height. “You will be very welcome at Erudite.

Sarah nods meekly, gathering herself and showing him to the door. There’s a weird feel to the air as she walks him to the front of Betty’s desk, watching him call the elevator.

“Mrs Coulter? Are you okay?” Betty asks

But her hands are shaking. If Eric ever found out about Blake’s imposing intimacy, she had no doubts he would stop her from commanding anything ever again, and the Erudite would miraculously disappear. She decides to account his reaction on personal excitement, and she will keep this to herself. “I’m fine. Where’s my husband?”

“He left about ten minutes ago.”

She finds herself quickly, keeping her voice strong. “I’m going to visit my sister.”

Betty smiles hesitantly. “I’ll let him know.”

“Excuse me.” Sarah dashes for the bathroom, the same one she had comforted herself in when she found out Eric had finalized Jack’s plans.

Was she even capable of keeping this a secret from Eric?

#bound by honour #chapter 4 #beautifulramblingbrains #eric coulter #jai courtney #divergent #insurgent #third instalment #eric and sarah #eric divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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herenortherenearnorfar · 6 years

Text

Pretender to the Throne

(Just a not-so-quick SvtFoE bit because I’m still deep in Medical Terminology work but I love the twists, love me some complicated mother-daughter relationships and family dynasties. I guess the third part of my to-be-jossed, Butterfly centric SvtFoE fics.)

Star had never put much stock by her royal privilege. When you were born with something, you took it for granted; like Tom with fire, or Ponyhead with floating.

More and more often, Marco was the one who put the pieces together for her. He bothered to learn about royal rules and rights, and how Star could technically skip to the head of any ice cream line in the allied kingdoms of Mewni. He was the one who shook her shoulder on the carriage ride home and whispered, “Hey, if Miss Heinous is a Butterfly, and she was Eclipsa’s daughter, and Eclipsa was queen, does that mean she was supposed to be queen?”

Star’s eyes flew open, and she punched Tom- her makeshift pillow- in the chest instinctively. He flicked the back of her head. “Not full of goose feathers, Star.”

“Sorry,” she said, apologetically. “Marco just said something real whack though. Marco, repeat the whack thing.”

Marco blushed under all the attention. Pony, at least, was still asleep, napping off the punch, but Star was staring blearily and even Tom was paying attention in between tearing strips off his shock blanket and incinerating them. “I mean, Eclipsa was queen, and Miss Heinous was- is, really- her daughter. And the daughter of a queen becomes queen next, right?”

“Normally, yes...” Star was too upset with the night to explain the complexities of Mewni’s succession- and frankly she hadn’t paid enough attention in school. She was next in line and that was all that mattered. “But not if there’s an older daughter, I don’t think. And Eclipsa is my great-whatever grandma, so she must have had an older daughter, right?”

Suddenly, she felt uncertain of that once sure fact. Maybe Eclipsa was just her aunt, or her cousin. The grandma room couldn’t only be for grandmas. Butterflys charged into battle too often and too recklessly for them to have maintained a single line of descent.

“Besides,” she said, covering for her sudden confusion with overconfidence, “A monster couldn’t inherit.”

Marco shifted a little on his bench, like he had in class when he knew the right answer but was afraid to say so. “Are you sure?”

Star gaped at him, mouth moving silently as she looked for an explanation she couldn’t provide. Desperately she glanced around the carriage, as if an inheritance lawyer would appear out of nowhere and solve her woes, but there were only the four of them. Ponyhead snored softly and Tom shrugged, as unhelpful as ever. His mother had emerged from lava and primordial evil and his father was the abstract conglomeration of every middle-aged dad who had ever gotten angry at a hardware store. He didn’t have to deal with extended family.

“It might not be a law,” Star rallied finally, “But you know what mewmans are like; no one would have let her inherit. Especially not if she was a baby.”

“Yeah,” Marco said, “They might, I don’t know, try to kill her? Leave a crazy lady with purple hair outside her bedroom in case she ever tried to come back?”

“It does kind of make sense,” Tom said helpfully, “You don’t leave someone to guard something that isn’t dangerous- I’m just saying!” He held up his hands like he was afraid he’d get punched again.

“I’m almost certain Eclipsa is my grandmother,” Star said, “’Cause her tapestry said she was married to a mewman first and you don’t say that unless you- you know.” It felt awkward to explain the basics of royal marriage to a pair of boys, even boys who were her friends, but they both nodded agreeably.

“Got busy, yeah,” Tom said. “Maybe they were afraid she’d try to inherit anyway. Like, a bunch of monsters would want to make her queen because she’s a monster too.”

There was a long pause.

“That’s really smart, Tom,” Marco said.

Tom nodded, “I try.” The ragged remainder of the shock blanket burst into flames in his hands, sending Star scooching down the bench towards Marco. The flames died down quickly, Tom’s fires always burned out fast, but Star elected to stay away. He seemed a little moody, even if he didn’t realize it, and there was still a lot of hairspray in her hair.

“Even if Miss Heinous- Meteora- was the heir back then, that doesn’t really matter now though, does it?” Star asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “There have been lots of queens. Seems like you’ve got a window to grab the throne and after that you’ve lost your chance.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works legally,” Marco said with a frown.

“Legality, reality. It doesn’t matter what’s legal, Marco!”

There was a long silence. Tom started to gently smoke. Both Marco and Star turned on him, concerned.

Marco edged around the carriage floor until he was across from Tom, trying not to get jolted into the demon’s personal space. “Hey, Tom, buddy? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Tom insisted, crossing his arms. Star closed in on him from the side.

“You smell like brimstone,” she pointed out, with an awkward chuckle, “The driver is going to think we’re up to something in here.”

Tom didn’t respond. Marco reached over and carefully patted his hand, then withdrew with a yelp. “It’s okay to talk to your friends,” he said as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, “Also your skin is really hot and I’d prefer that no one gets second degree burns the next time we go around a bend really fast. We need to cool off.”

The threat of imminent danger to others finally did it. Tom flipped his sunglasses down over his eyes and leaned back against the carriage’s upholstery, ignoring how the leather hissed in protest. “She just looked a lot like me, is all. Looks human with a big red parent, magical powers, royal heritage. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I realized. You know I don’t usually care about politics but this one feels... strange.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong, Star reflected. Meteora did kind of look like him, if you squinted. The pale hair, the pointed ears, the hint of fangs.

She hugged Tom, heedless of the way the cushions were melting around him. Sure enough, by the time she touched him he was just uncomfortably warm. “It’s not weird.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m on her side, or anything,” Tom protested, “Just some mildly uncomfortable feelings for me to talk out with my therapist.” “Well, I’m sort of on her side,” Marco said, as Star and Tom pulled apart. “Miss Heinous is terrible, but whatever happened to her sounds worse.”

“I know,” Star agreed, voice feeling too tight in her throat. “And I didn’t mean to say- I mean. We need to focus on what we can do now to fix this. I need to talk to my parents. I just don’t know what I’m going to say.”

A hand rapped on the side of the carriage and a voice full of knightly bluster called, “Five minutes until the Underworld and Cloud Kingdom!”

Tom pressed a little closer to Star’s side. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

In the corner, Pony abruptly stopped snoring and righted herself in midair, shaking free of the bubble Star had put her in to keep her from sleep goring anyone on the long and bumpy ride. Star brightened.

“Ponyhead! We were just talking about-”

“Mmmhm,” Pony, never a light sleeper, looked oddly alert. “I heard. I was ignoring you because it was, how can I say this, not very interesting? But it’s clear that you all need my help.”

Marco, less used to Ponyhead, looked affronted. “We don’t need-”

It was no use, she was on a roll. “It’s not your fault, you’re all only children. Politics don’t come easily to you. But I’ve had to live and breath politics every day or get stabbed in the back. Sibling life, you know. Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once.”

Star leaned in. Marco sighed but dutifully took out his favorite notebook. Tom stared out the window, pretending not to listen.

“First off, you need to figure out the laws. Loopholes are your friends and everyone else is going try to use them. Learn every last declaration and requirement. And figure out how our girl Heinous really is related to you. Much as I hate to say it, you’re going to have to read some stuff.”

“We can do that,” Marco said slowly,

“I’m not done. Don’t tell your parents. Parents have no sense of humor about this sort of thing. Also if they know you’re looking for the information they might start looking at what you’re checking out of the library and that won’t end well. Do talk to historians though. They love talking, it’s the worst. And see if you can get some information out of our girl Eclipsa.” Ponyhead had the calculating look of someone who dealt with secret evil cousins very week, “Don’t tell her about her kid being alive though, that might upset her.”

“I can’t lie to her!” Star protested.

“You can and you have to, bestie. She’s dangerous. You should also listen to the monster communities. If someone wants the throne they need co-conspirators, and the first place you look is family. If Heinous can’t get to her mom she’s going to turn to monsters related to her dad, or just monsters in general. Keep your ear to the ground.”

The carriage started to slow to a halt.

“That’s our stop,” Ponyhead commented.

Star gave her a neck crushing hug. “Thank you for the advice,” she whispered.

“Learn how to throw better parties! Love you! Talk to you!” Pony said as she drifted out the door, now being held open by a waiting knight. ‘

Tom lingered. Under the gaze of Mewni’s finest they couldn’t talk freely, but he kissed Star on the cheek and said, “I’m sure you’ll figure... all of this out.”

“Thanks. And Tom? You know if you ever want to talk about feelings we’re here, right?”

“All of us,” Marco confirmed, looking up from his notebook to give Tom an earnest, if bleary smile.

Tom backed out of the carriage hastily, “I absolutely will not be taking you up on that. Later, babe!”

The door closed, and the carriage started back on it’s way. It wasn’t too far from the outskirts of the city to the castle, and Star already felt dread at the scolding she was about to get slowly bubbling in her stomach. She threw herself across the carriage and stretched out on the unburnt bench so her head was next to Marco’s thigh and her legs were folded up against the wall. Even the sight of her party boots wasn’t enough to soothe her.

Marco starting taking the pins out of her hair. Half of them had already fallen out, and the removal of just a few more made the entire updo collapse like a souffle.

After a few minutes of listening to the wheels on the cobbles and the soft bleats of the invisible goat, Star had had enough.

“It’s just... it’s so messed up!” she said, hand fluttering in frustration. “Mewni was bad to begin with, but I thought I could fix the problems with monsters and mewmans. I thought I could help Eclipsa. I don’t know if I can fix this. It’s so big.”

“Yeah, it is,” Marco agreed. “But I think we have to try.”

They did. As horrible as all the options for action were, inaction was even worse.

It was only- Star was a royal, born and bred. She didn’t always think about it, or pay attention to it, but it was in her bones. She could disregard the privileges and ignore the customs of her station, but deep within her bones lurked the imperative to protect her birthright, protect her kingdom, protect her magic. It was something her mother had whispered to her when she was too young to fully remember it.

Helping the monsters hadn’t required disregarding that. Neither had helping Eclipsa, long deposed and with no interest in queendom. But helping Meteora, who was frightening and had been wronged, and whose hurt might have given Star her crown?

As Ponyhead always pointed out when she pushed her sisters around, a princess couldn’t well help her rival to the throne.

“She’s family,” Star muttered.

Marco patted her head. “Yeah. Your family is super messed up.”

#svtfoe fanfic #svtfoe #star butterfly #marco diaz #ponyhead #tom lucitor #meteora

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tustinjomimori · 7 years

Text

Chap.3- Help me title this, I beg you

Boku no Hero Academia

Aizawa Shouta/Reader

T+ rating

You’re ignoring Aizawa.

The famous UA sports festival is coming up and you're grateful to have that to focus on. You're worried about Aizawa, sure. He's in no state to be out of bed, let alone teaching a bunch of hormone crazed teens who can barely control their quirks, but you're also simmering with anger towards him. Not only was he not taking care of himself and setting a bad example for his first years, but he apparently thought it was OK to rely on you to heal him if his dumb ass gets in trouble again.

After your hospital visit, you had thought Aizawa was finally warming up to you, taking interest in you as a person and not just a piece of furniture that occasionally showed him cute cat pictures. But apparently he only thought of you as a convenience; someone who could heal him whenever he needed and a perfect excuse to push himself and get hurt again without consequence. You felt pathetic about the whole situation and so you distracted yourself by giving supplementary lessons to some of your students.

Of course, being co-workers, you still saw Aizawa on the daily. While he had never been one to strike up a conversation with you outside of asking about your cats, he continued to give you brief nods when you crossed paths in the hallways or when you saw each other in the staff lounge. You felt a little bad, childish even, each time you looked away from him, but you figured ignoring him would help you get over your stupid crush at the very least.

You honest to goodness start feeling like a middle schooler again and just that makes you start becoming mad at yourself. You almost talk to Yamada about how you’re feeling but you’re pretty sure he’s physically incapable of keeping his damn mouth shut. You’re sure he’s already told Aizawa about your crying over his almost lifeless body and his suspicions about your feelings, not like that was very hard to figure out.

The day of the sports festival keeps your mind off of everything but cheering on your students. They do well, better than the year previous, but some of them still fall short of what you had expected of them. This worries you, because you really don’t want to see them discouraged. After the awards ceremony you sit in the staff lounge sipping tea with All Might and discussing your worries over your students.

All Might is understanding, and he does his best to lift your spirits.

“You really care about your students, don’t you?” He asks, and yeah, you really fucking do care about these hormone fueled kids.

“Yeah…” You answer. “I want to set a good example for them but….I’m afraid I’m not doing a very good job.” You stare at your hands in your lap and think about how you, should any of your students come to your for advice, would never suggest they give someone they truly care about the cold shoulder.

All Might is looking at you curiously, but you decide against bothering the symbol of peace with your lovestruck (love was a strong word….like-like-struck then) woes.

The door to the staff lounge opens noisily and you look up to see Aizawa, still clad in bandages and wearing a look of utmost annoyance. You think back to the way you stalked past him that morning. His mouth had been slightly open (from what you could see of it), likely in an attempt to say something to you, but you were too embarrassed and proud to even look him in the eyes. You only muttered a soft “sorry” when your shoulder brushed against his arm.

Your first thought was that you had actually hurt him by brushing against him and you feel your face heat up in shame. Aizawa just looks at you from the doorway for a number of moments before All Might speaks up.

“Care to join us for tea, Aizawa, my man?” He looks slightly confused, and you don’t blame him. You’re confused yourself, having no idea what Aizawa wants from this awkward encounter.

Aizawa simply glances at All Might before looking back at you. Finally, he opens his mouth and speaks.

“We need to talk.”

You almost sass him, reminding him that the two of you are talking right now, but you decide against it.

“Fine.” You comply, standing up. “I’ll be right back.” You inform All Might.

Aizawa leads you out into the hallway and you quietly shut the door behind you. He leans against the wall opposite you and you do the same against the now closed door.

You’re too embarrassed to make eye contact with your colleague so you opt for staring at your own shoes.

You hear Aizawa sigh and you glance up until you’re looking at his bandage wrapped chin.

“You’re being troublesome.” He tells you. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re acting like a child and I have enough of those to deal with without adding you into the mix.”

You balk at that, feeling slightly ashamed. You couldn’t really deny being childish, you have to admit to that, but you never thought Aizawa would actually be upset (dare you label it as that?) over your behavior.

You look back down at the floor and softly kick one foot against the tile.

“Sorry...” You think you might have whispered it, you aren’t really sure.

Aizawa sighs. “What’s been going on?” He sounds as if he really doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he’s resigned himself to it and to the emotional labor involved.

“You’ve been pissed at me ever since I left the hospital and I can’t figure out why.”

At this, you sigh as well.

“Because,” You breathe, frustrated. “I……”

Fuck, were you about to say it? You suppose you could pass it off as platonic, so you set your face, trying to make yourself seem casual, and continue.

“Because I care about you and…..You’re neglecting your health!” You finally look into Aizawa’s eyes, and once again your emotions are all over the place. Anger, frustration, and concern all bubble within you.

“Not only that! You’re setting a bad example for your students! They’re going to think it’s OK to just fucking! Neglect their own bodies and get themselves hurt again and again!”

You’re almost panting with exasperation now and Aizawa is looking at you like he’s never seen you before in his life.

“And then you just fucking!” You can’t stop now that you’ve started. “You say everything’ll be fine if I’m there, like you only see me as someone who’ll just heal you whenever you want ! Instead of ...Instead of …. Fuck, I don’t know! Instead of a goddamn person!! An equal!”

You realize that in your tirade, you’ve taken a couple of large steps towards Aizawa, and now you’re standing inches away from each other.

You’re both quiet for a minute. Your gaze falters from Aizawa’s eyes, the only part of his face you can really see, and they betray his confusion.

“You…..” Aizawa starts. “Ah, this is troublesome.” He awkwardly scratches at the back of his head with one of his casted hands.

“This whole time, you’ve been misunderstanding.”

You stare in surprise as he continues.

“I know that…. I don’t seem like a good teacher. I’m not as enthusiastic or empathetic as you are. But I do care about the little morons. And I figured the sooner I got back to them, the sooner I could help prepare them should something like that,” He’s obviously referring to the attack at the USJ. “Happens again.”

You’re such a fucking idiot. You’re head over heels for the man and yet you just assumed he would never do anything so self-sacrificing for his students. You feel terrible and you have no idea how to respond, but Aizawa just continues talking.

“As for seeing you only as a healer…” Aizawa goes on. “I definitely didn’t mean it like that. I just meant.” He sighs yet again. “I know you’ll have my back….if anything happens again so…” He’s looking ever so slightly downwards and you think he might be embarrassed.

You’re so, so fucking frustrated with yourself now, and you can feel heat building behind your eyes and you silently curse your inability to feel any strong emotion without submitting to tears.

“Fuck.” Is the only thing running through your mind, and it’s apparently the only thing you can say out loud. You break eye contact with Aizawa to look down at your own hands, which you’re surprised to find are grabbing onto the front of his shirt.

“I’m sorry……” You can’t look back up at his face, scared that you’ll see his mad or disappointed expression there.

“I was so scared….At USJ...I thought you were dead!” You’re barely containing the tears now.

“I just….wanted you to be ok….” You attempt to let go of Aizawa’s shirt but your fingers only tighten in the black fabric. “I was so...so goddamn scared, you asshole.” You weren’t 100% sure what you were saying at this point.

“And I just….didn’t want to see you get hurt again….” You trail off.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize again. “I misjudged you…..I thought you just….wanted me for my quirk, so I could heal you….So you could fight recklessly….”

You want to emphasize again just how scared you were at USJ, how scared you were that something similar would happen again after Aizawa left the hospital of his own accord. You think maybe the message has made its way across, however, when you muster the courage to look back into Aizawa’s eyes and see that his brows seem to be furrowed in concern.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, because damn, do you feel stupid. You can’t bear to look back up at Aizawa, but surprisingly, the man rather uncomfortably pats the top of your head.

“As long as you’re back to acting like an adult now.” He mumbles.

You stand still for a minute, savoring the closeness between the two of you. One of Aizawa’s hands rests on your head while the other rests on your shoulder. Your own hands slowly unfurl from the front of his shirt, losing the warmth you felt at the point of contact.

“I, uh,” You start. “Better get back to All Might.” You don’t want to go, don’t want to let go of the man who is so easily allowing you to cling to his person. But you aren’t sure how else to end the conversation, and you don’t want to be gone for so long that the blonde comes looking for you and finds you holding onto Aizawa awkwardly in the hallway. You, rather reluctantly, step away from the black haired man.

“I’m sorry again…” You murmur.

Aizawa gives out yet another frustrated huff and responds, “You were just worried. I get that….I guess.”

You bite your tongue to keep yourself from apologizing yet again.

“I appreciate it.” Aizawa says. “Your worrying about me, I mean.” You think he looks embarrassed again under all those bandages, but it’s impossible to tell.

You awkwardly give him a small wave as you open the door to the staff lounge once again, going inside to finish what has now become a rather uncomfortable (because you aren’t sure whether you should be smiling or crying) cup of tea with All Might.

After the sports festival, school has a two day hiatus. You use this extra time to compile notes on areas in which your students can improve, and to edit and improve lesson plans for the future. You try not to think too much about what a fucking idiot you made of yourself in front of Aizawa.

But he seemed to appreciate you worrying about him. The thought nags at the back of your mind, the thought that the man appreciated you and knew you had his back and that he let you come so close to actually holding him.

You’re still trying not to make a big deal out of it when you return to the school two days later. Your heart jumps into your throat though, when you see Aizawa sitting in the staff office, bandages off and skin looking particularly pale and beautiful.

“You’re all healed then now?” You ask him as you approach. He turns to fully face you and your heart once again jumps. Under his right eye is a large crescent shaped scar. The pale, raised skin particularly stands out against the faintly dark circles under his eyes. It takes almost all of your self control to keep yourself from reaching out and running your thumb over the mark. You feel slightly guilty for finding this keepsake of his trauma so damn attractive.

“Yeah.” He grunts, returning back to the computer screen before him.

You hold in a sigh. While you were maybe hoping for something to blossom from the heartfelt (at least it was on your part) conversation the two of you had had the other day, you certainly weren’t counting on it. You swallow down your disappointment and turn towards your own desk.

Things were back to normal, you supposed.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa shota

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stevedonnellyfaith-blog · 5 years

Text

Uncle Stacy (Post 57)

My mother got an email from her sister-in-law that her brother has passed away on Tuesday. She told me about his death the next day when I called to talk to Natalie. I had expected the news for several months as he has not been well for years and had been discharged from the hospital into hospice care due to the growth of a tumor in his brain that he had battled valiantly for twenty years. When sick people die, people often say that the person had suffered enough. My Aunt Linda wrote that Stacy had suffered through stroke number six recently so I guess if you tack that on to multiple brain surgeries and twenty years of chemo and radiation, Stacy certainly qualified for that send off line. (BTW with all of Nick’s scans and bald head I am sometimes curious as to whether if I stuck a light bulb in his mouth, whether it would light up Fester-style.)

St Paul wrote: “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful (2 Timothy 4:7.)” These words seem to describe my uncle.

A member of the West Point ski team, Stacy survived two tours in Viet Nam, retired as a Lt Cornel, worked in Real Estate and served Jesus Christ faithfully throughout his life. He died peacefully, surrounded by family and surely resides in the presence of Our Savior. I was proud to have known him. He inspired my two failed attempted to matriculate to the United States Military Academy, a path that lead me eventually to Canoe U in Annapolis where I met Pam.

Oddly, Uncle Stacy’s passing helped bring me out of a very bad mood on a day that did not go well at all. Nick’s health seemed to be taking a turn for the worse, my father was hospitalized with cellulitis and all productivity had been sucked from my work day by a meeting that lasted too long and prevented the supervisory staff from being on the shop floor at a critical time in the day when all the crucial decisions are made – or in this case no decisions are made at all. I also got late news of a pending discipline case that I knew would torpedo the following work day. There is nothing so disheartening as investigating a nuisance level incident of the kind that you know won’t amount to anything but still can’t be ignored as a matter of policy.

When my mom told me about her brother, my holy battery had been running pretty low. I had gotten a jump start from Father Joseph in confession, but I expected that I needed someone to look at my spiritual alternator as well. Lately, my prayer life has been pretty dry and I have been losing more battles with my habitual orneriness than I have been winning. Discovering that a favorite uncle had passed away should have darkened my mood but it actually didn’t. It seemed to bring my concentration away from my own woes to a more proper Christian focus on the plight of others.

The strangely unfortunate fact that my mother received the news via email and was prevented from attending her brother because of her responsibilities to her husband and my daughter seemed to add some perspective to the annoyances of my recent days. I can sympathize with my aunt for sending out an email as she and my mother were not close and carrying a terminally ill, loved one through the last several months of their life is extremely draining. When Pam passed, I only called Pam’s mother, my father and tracked down the kids. I probably let Rudy tell the Men of St Joseph as we had needed to call him to translate for Father Fabio who arrived at the house to administer the last rites.

I talked to my mom some about her loss, but I am not really good with that type of conversation as my opinion of death seem radically out of touch with the beliefs of most normal people. In my view, my uncle’s long illness was a final purification for him to assume his honored place at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. While some Christians believe that simply announcing that they have accepted Jesus is all that is required for salvation, Stacy sought to live his faith in an effort to bear good fruit. After retiring from the army, he worked for a time in a group called the Navigators which evangelizes military members. Over the years I did not cross paths with my uncle frequently, but when I did, we always discussed Jesus. His faith and the faith of whomever he was conversing with were always foremost in his mind. Stacy had surrendered his life to Christ.

‘Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me (Mark 8:34.)’ Certainly, Stacy carried and my aunt Linda lugged a heavy cross about for the last few decades, but he spent one afternoon with Pam and me at my folks giving us information about treatment of brain tumors. Our conversation was about seven years before Pam’s diagnosis. At the time she had developed a growth on her pituitary that concerned both of us; we were relieved when it disappeared from her scans, but we were not prepared at the time to deal with any uncertainty of Pam’s future. Stacy’s calming advice that we should trust in God and Pam’s doctors certainly helped us.

As we each struggle against our own inner darkness, turning outward towards God fills us with His light that must be shared with others. Stacy’s unselfishness in the face of his struggles seems to be the true path toward heaven. Although we believe that salvation is a free gift from God, the present is more like a piano than a set of bone china. Faith must be practiced, shared and performed. Some us may only master chopsticks by the end of our journey, but none of us use the gift for a coffee table, affection or a conversation piece.

My uncle has finished his race and crossed the goal, and I am happy that he is surely learning the joys of beauty and happiness that we cannot comprehend. If tastes in heaven follow our earthly wonts, Stacy may have headed immediately towards the highest visible peak to climb for the best view. It is possible that chose instead to fell at Christ’s feet to thank Him for all the strength that our Savior lent my uncle through the endlessly frustrating sessions of rehab that Stacy surely had to endure. It would not have been long, though I’m sure, before Stacy hugged his parents and turned his gaze back towards us to cheer on his wife, family, sister and friends in their struggles to finish their own marathons and to attain the Promise described in the good news that Our Savior proclaimed and earned for us through His crucifixion.

#Last Things #Memorial #RIP #Divine Mercy #God #Jesus #The Holy Spirit #Take up your cross and follow #suffering #cancer #faith #love #heroism

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cookingupcounseling · 7 years

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Self-indulgent “woe is me”parental drivel masquerading as helpful advice

I borrowed a Kindle copy of this from my library. I’m glad I didn’t spend money on this trash, though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by how bad it is. Talk of autism is constantly taken over by parents of autistic children who go on and on about how hard it is for them while the opinions and feelings of actual autistic people are ignored. Why did I say “autistic people” and not “people with autism” as many insist is more appropriate? Because many autistic people themselves insist autism is not a bad thing, not a disease at all, it’s part of them, so they’d rather be called autistic people. Unlike most, I listen to the preferences of those we’re supposedly trying to help.

I gave this book a chance even though I was furious after a few pages, even though the author himself admits to having not read far into many books about autism because they started out depressing, yet he somehow expects me to read his depressing writing.

This is a memoir of the author’s dealings with his son Jonah after Jonah’s diagnosis of autism. It’s meant to be uplifting, but I’m only struck by how much author Joel Yanofsky contradicts himself. He talks of being very happy with Jonah when he was born, seeing his child as perfect, as new parents tend to. Everything changed after the diagnosis. I expect parents mourn the loss of their expectation of a neurotypical child. I also expect them to get over that, but I see no signs here that the author and his wife ever did. He talks of loving his son no matter what, of seeing good aspects of his son’s autism, but he gives me no reason to believe he makes his son believe any of this.

You don’t love your son well enough to be trying to make him happy, Joel Yanofsky. You don’t believe there’s anything good about his autism. You aren’t trying to make him happy, you’re trying to make him conform, and it’s impossible for him to conform to a point where he will be just like a neurotypical, and you can’t accept that, and that’s why he’s unhappy. That’s why he’s woken up in the morning calling himself names, calling himself bad. He’s not bad, but by trying to eradicate his autism, you are making him believe there is something irrevocably wrong with him. That isn’t helping him at all. It’s hurting him.

All parents of autistic children need to realize how messed up an attitude like this is. If you’re one and you hate how I’m summing up your problems without asking for your input, realize that’s exactly what you’re doing to your children.

I kept hoping for a turning point in this book, a point in which the author realized how stupid he was being, how self-contradictory. I came to the following quote which made me entirely done trying to appreciate this book:

William Stillman is the quintessential insider. His website identifies him as “The Autism Whisperer.” He has Asperger’s syndrome himself and advocates for others on the spectrum. He’s a fierce opponent of treatments like ABA and encourages their parents to accept them for who they are. His books go way beyond acceptance as a matter of fact. They identify autism as a kind of supernatural gift. Stillman believes autism can imbue in people psychic and spiritual powers. “What if it has a purpose?” he asks. “What if there is a plan?” These are not questions I have ever asked myself.

There it is. There’s the problem, admitted for all to see. Not any problem with his son, but his problem. This is after he went on for many chapters about putting his son in the ABA therapy which actual autistic people advocate against. He goes on to say if it were up to him, he’d get rid of his son’s autism in a heartbeat, despite admitting having read of many people, like Temple Grandin, who say they would never change to no longer be autistic.

Joel Yanofsky, like many parents of autistic children, doesn’t want his child to be happy in his own way. He wants his child to be happy in a way acceptable to the world. And that’s bullshit. Go ahead and be offended by my use of a single swear word. I’m offended by how so many people say they want to help autistic people and vehemently ignore the thoughts of the very people they say they want to help.

This ridiculous attitude was so clear to me in the author’s recalling of how his son Jonah’s therapists tried over and over again to get Jonah to play “properly” with a Mr. Potato Head. He’d put the ears where the eyes go and they’d tell him no. They got frustrated. It was seen as a failure. WHY THE HELL IS NOT “PROPERLY” PLAYING WITH A MR. POTATO HEAD A FAILURE? That’s absolutely ridiculous! Playing differently than other children doesn’t make a child unhappy. What makes them unhappy is when you treat the way they are as a defect. So STOP IT. STOP THIS NONSENSE. Will not “properly” playing with a Mr. Potato Head affect a kid’s happiness in any way? No! THEN IT DOESN’T MATTER. IT DOESN’T. FUCKING. MATTER. It doesn’t matter to the kid. It only matters to you.

Yes, there are certain ways we can help autistic children get along better in life...but shaming them for the way they were born is no way to do that. Autism speaks alright. You’re just not listening. You’re not even asking. Not once in this book did I see anybody ASK Jonah why he did something or how he felt. He’s said to not be stupid, so why treat him like he’s stupid? You’re treating him like his autism is something to be ashamed of, and he’s picking up on that.

I have a masters degree in clinical mental health counseling. I also received a diagnosis of Asperger’s at one time. I think it’s not the proper diagnosis in my case, as I think my problems with “normal” social interactions stem from a lot of social isolation as a kid. I wasn’t unable to learn how to act in social situations, I just didn’t learn early because I didn’t have much opportunity. Whatever diagnosis is proper for me doesn’t matter nearly as much as my understanding of what it’s like to have grown up being very different from average kids and being made to feel ashamed of myself because of that.

Are you reconsidering my words now I’ve admitted an ASD diagnosis in the past? Do you think I’m somehow less qualified to be considered a rational human being now?

I don’t care anymore whether I qualify as autistic or not. What I care about is that, whether or not I’m actually autistic, if you believe there to be any truth in the diagnosis, you will likely treat me as less than human.

And that’s ridiculous. That doesn’t make any sense. Whether or not it’s because of autism, I don’t aspire to conformity. I’ve never “fit in” and like everyone who doesn’t, I’ve spent my whole life dealing with ridicule over that. But here’s the thing. I don’t

want

to conform. Many people who take pride in an ASD diagnosis loudly say

they

don’t want to conform. Why is the world not listening?

#autism #autistic #autism spectrum #book review #psychology

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daughterofhel · 3 years

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Just, void screaming. Ignore

Is this a pity party? Honestly. Maybe. Which I hate even further but fuck man, I’ve got no one to talk to but need to feel like I’m talking to SOMEONE. This is just bitching and ranting and woe is me bullshit. Sorry; just figured Tumblr was the spot to do it. Easy to be lost to the void while somehow feeling public enough that I can convince myself it matters.

Not that I expect anyone to still be reading, as this really is just a stranger here throwing a fit, but I’d like to say I already am going to therapy.

That out of the way..

Holy. FUCK.

I’m trying so god damned hard to work on myself. To get better. Get over shit and improve and grow as a person and shits always shoving me back. I still keepnfuckin going but man some days it’s just fucking overwhelming and you spiral down. I hate how often I’m spiraling back down.

I hate how alone I feel even with a wonderful wife. She and I talk. None of this convo is something we haven’t talked about but I also don’t want to just dump my constant woes on the woman I love. To the only person who loves me without any strings or conditions or whatever. I adore her. But god are we both lonely. I worry strongly it’s partly my fault. I think often; I can’t help it but I really am working on it. But god damn. My parents were kinda warped and conditional with their affections for me.

Only once I got a little older did my mother really bother, since I was no longer a burden but could be of use. Especially once she had her own kids. Now when I do get graced with any kind of greeting it’s for a mix of things. Typically I means she’s about to hit my father up for money; which means she’s gotta make sure she and I are cool so that cash still keeps coming. Other times it’s cuz she wants that mother daughter bond thing we absolutely do not have and wants to pretend it’s there. Nearly every call we speak her traumas of the past get brought up.

And fuck I feel really bad that happened to you mom, I see how it’s really wrecked your life up even now and I’ve offered the best advice I can, I’ve offered the kinda words, the supporting words, done what I can to my own best ability. Even if it’s always just letting you speak about the rapes of your past that I don’t want to hear about at all. I know that sounds selfish but I’ve heard it a lot and I know they still bother you so much and I know I am not the person whose gonna help you work through those. Im just.. not.

I hate when she cries about how her life was ruined from the few years she was together with my father; how his abuse and manipulations to this day affect all these things. How she reminds me and talks about them in detail nearly ever call as if this is news? Woman, I grew up ALONE with him. I’m fuckin aware what he’s like and how that fucks you up, thanks.

It’s some kind of fucked up bonding to her. Our last call, with my grandmother in the hospital and I having FaceTimed to get updates and say hi to my grandmother (I live in another country than them) she loudly detailed her miserable life with my father in front of the nurses as she reminded me how she’d have to hide us in closets in the dark to calm and feed me as he’d snap at any noise. How he’d hurt her. How she took us out of that home from him before she decided it was more important I had my father in my life since hers never really was. How she did what she could but there was no winning custody from my father when it came down to it.

I’m so use to hearing two different stories from both my parents as they paint the other as bad and I remember more than I want to. I silently listen and mumble the appropriate words. But I know my mother is either in denial or magically forgotten her own shit just like my father has his own shit.

While he slept around and wasn’t home for days and shit she would lock herself in her room. Or she’d go out dressed up to the bars and shit and leave me locked in that room. Sometimes for a couple DAYS. I KNOW this.

It was just worse when they were both home though. God. The screaming and breaking of shit. I still can remember trying to clean snotty tears and blood off my mothers face as I apologized for being bad and making dad mad after he had picked her up by the throat and threw her through our crappy american drywall walls.

I hate how this came up in convo. I hate how she mentioned how she wasn’t sure if my father ever touched me; sexually. Like hers did to her before he fucked off forever. I also hate how much she kept trying to bring up stuff and cases where she thinks it might’ve been possible, as if I needed that to be a thing on top of the other shit. She kept talking about it as if she WANTED it to be true. For us to have another fucking thing to relate to each other. Which. HOLY fuck woman. I called to say hi to my possibly dying grandmother and get info on THAT. Not for any of this.

Honestly. I don’t know. I don’t know if dad did that shit. If so, that’s a really sealed tight fucking memory. I’m currently focusing on the, what my therapist flat out calls torture, he put me through. My very own Mr Jeckel and Mr Hyde. Me Perfect Mr Nightmare. At the flip of a switch back and fucking forth. Spoiled and tortured.

I had my first breakdown that I can recall at age 5. I barely remember that trailer but fuck I remember enough. I remember a solid week of constantly getting the leather belt and screamed at by that marine. I didn’t immediately pick up my toys. I was struggling to tie my shoes. I didn’t answer right away. I made a mess with my food. I almost burnt our soup I was supposed to be managing on the stove: I had my own stool and all. I just felt.. overwhelmed. I told a childish lie, I don’t remember the lie but he utterly lost it. Lying remains the very worst possible offense to my father. What was an attempt to avoid more beating and screaming turned into a long nightmare.

I don’t remember those walls. But I remember his face. I remember being sat on the counter, as he demanded I look him in the eyes when I was talking to him or being screamed at. I remember him visibly shaking, him being so so red. The veins popping out of his forehead and neck. The muscles on his arms in the shirts he always had to cut just to fit those arms through. I could draw that glare as he always held it close to mine to make sure I couldn’t and didn’t focus elsewhere. His interrogating. I know I thought I had caught a break when that landline started ringing. I’ve no idea who it was who called.

My dads teeth were gritted as he responded curtly to the person on the phone who wasn’t getting the hint he didn’t want to talk. And I remember, sitting so high up on that counter, alone with this man, knowing he was about to hang up and no one was gonna stop him, that I was never gonna get this right, that I just. Felt some hopeless I started laughing. I saw the look he shot me and I swear the memory still makes my stomach sink every ducking time. And I was crying cuz I couldn’t stop laughing. He hung up quick and demanded to know what I thought was funny. That did I think lying was funny? Of course I didn’t and my ‘I don’t know’ responses never ever were received well. I just. I couldn’t stop laughing.

God I’m glad I don’t remember the rest but I do know he fixed that laughing problem pretty quick. I only remember how much I hurt.

I have so many things to say, so many years of even more shit; the things you just learn to survive. How you learn to not play strong with a man whose strong enough to make it hurt if he suspects it isn’t. You learn he wants to hear you scream and cry. But to a certain degree; when I got to that barely breathing ugly crying with pouring snot sniffling stage he got grossed out and threatened he’d give me a real reason to cry if I didn’t cut that shit out. Leaning over a surface so it doesn’t matter if your legs give out as your there’d bare assed to a folded braided leather belt being brought down amidst yelling was only part of that shit.

Once the beating was done I was orders where I was to stand or sit waiting for him to call me into his office. This could sometimes be a few hours. And god forbid I moved; he moves so silently, occasionally checking to make sure I was ‘reflecting on what I did wrong.’ Assuming I didn’t fuck that up it would be time for a new round of mixed levels of yelling. A foot or two from his face he’d want me to inform him what I did wrong, that I didn’t want to be miserable and anything like my mother, that it’s hard enough on him when I’m not doing my job and he’s doing his. (My job being the house and my grades). Then it was time for me to explain how I’d avoid doing what I did wrong again, and then I was to pick an appropriate punishment.

Takin away my time to tv, my PlayStation, going outside or having friends over. This was its own test; if I was too light on the punishment he thought my offense deserved I’d get screamed at and beat there by hands of his like iron and sent back to my room to wait to further reflect with a 50-50 chance of him either calling me into his room to whip me or to give me a second chance with a worse longer punishment chosen by me for the now double offense.

I hate how awkward I am with gifts. I know it’s partly dads fault. He’d buy me all kinds of things all the time. I didn’t really ever ask. Not to the sheer amount he would go out and get and give stuff. I was to be appropriately thankful. But of course, if I messed up with having not finished all the chores (and the right way) or not responding to him quick enough, watching cartoons before I finished my homework, you name it, my new stuff often got broken in front of me. Snap and crushed and thrown and shattered as he screamed over me as I was also yelled at to pick that shit up. And fast.

So yeah mom. I’m sorry he ruined holidays and gifts for you. I’m honestly sorry you still think about your time with him and that it hurts you. But you’re talking to the wrong person. I’m aware what it’s like, and I know you know. You want to relate on that but not really hear much from me except validation to how much it’s fucked you up.

I wake from the dead of sleep when a door slams. I didn’t even wake when I was asleep in a carcrash, that’s how heavy I sleep, you hear? And this door thing isn’t new but it got revamped by an event when I was just out of highschool. We built a home in Texas and we had a lot of space. I just happened to met and know and bond with folks in shitty situations and offered them a place to live until they got on their feet. One of the girls begged for her mother’s dog to stay with us. Mind you she never took care of this dog. My other roommates and I did. I even built the lady a doghouse as well as buying a big water thing for outside since it’s TEXAS.

But one weekend I was dog sitting for a friend who was going out of town for a horse show she was part of. Big lanky playful pup. He wasn’t hurting the old little dog but he did keep trying to get her to play. The girl didn’t like that and kept separating them. I told her to not move that dog away from the shelter and water, it’s summer in Texas. I had been working a double shift (16hrs) and was fucning exhaushsted and just crashed on my bed with one of my friends. (I had a big bed. Often shared with a handful of people). Well, apparently that girl moved that dog far away from hers, leaving the poor thing chained up to a single tree, no shelter, no water, and he was crying. My father stormed into the basement madder than fucking hell.

He doesn’t tolerate animal abuse. I was barely an hour into sleep, unaware of the situation, when he grabs and yanks me by the ankle, it startled awake my fried next to me, as he screamed at me. I thought he was going to throw me against the wall. I was still not fully awake to process what he was screaming at me for. Which enraged him more. I figured out what it was and quickly moved the dog back to the shelter and water and reported to my still super pissed off father. I got pretty upset with that one roommate; it ended up being one of the many many things that I had her move out over. I’m not my father, even if angry at the other shit she had pulled, I packed her stuff and helped load it into her car as she went to live somewhere else. No matter how bad it got between me and some of my temporary roommates, I always packed their stuff and helped loaded it away.

But being jarred awake and fearing instantly for my life as I was face to face with my fathers rage has me still on alert with slamming doors.

And right now? Living with my wife’s parents and aunt, it’s becoming a slight problem. Our nephew spends most of his time here than he does at his own home. Since COVID he’s been to his own home less than a week in total. And his grandparents and great aunt are 100% enablers of really shitty behavior. They just want quiet so they left him have whatever he wants no matter what. Anytime my wife and I try to law down rules and enforce them he screamed and slammed shit, telling everyone to fuck off and how he hates them, loudest screaming he can manage, more slaming more screaming, and this can go on for an hour or more.

And the ‘adults’ yell at US and tell us off in front of the kid. He’s aware he will get what he wants. If he doesn’t want to go to school, he doesn’t go. This kid spent well than more days home than at school. Just cuz he didn’t feel like it and wanted to play video games. He watches stupid shit on Instagram and tilt ol and your Uber influencer folks and sees all this named brand shit and insists he HAS to have that shit. That shit that costs enough money to make your eyes buldge for a stupid crappy hoodie or his, no joke, 100th pair of shoes or newest PC assessory or whatever.

His mother time to time borrows money she doesn’t always pay back, cuz she and her boyfriend struggle with bills or feeding their own cats cuz she never tells this kid no since he throws a bitch fit. It’s wearing so fucking thin on us. It’s hard to dote and love on our nephew when he’s so shitty to his family. He refuses to go to therapy and no one makes him go. He literally less than a YEAR ago finally started wiping his own ASS, and he’s 11.

I’ve been warning him a lot lately to not have his laptop at the table cuz there’s a bunch of folks at the table with plates and bowls and multiple glasses of water, pitchers of water, and he’s gonna be really upset if he ruins his computer. He can just use his phone. It’s not like he stays at the table that long as it is. He’s been super bitchy about it but I’ve been very stern on it the last few days. Well, today he was fucking around with something with the water and got it on his phone. There were no paper towels.

So he threw an horrid fucking fit. Lost his entire fucking mind. As my wife and I are trying to reason with him and teach him to not react like this when things happen like that and to instead ask for help or thibk, what else can I use, like the kitchen towel for example, everyone’s enabling his tantrum and coddling it and telling us to hush up. We are trying to teach him how to fucking handle life! Any time any little thing doens go his way immediately he gives up or throws a fit or something! It’s not healthy. So we are trying to ask him to talk about why he’s feeling overwhelmed with this or that, help him figure out what can be done (or accept that sometimes that’s just how life is, what’s important it your attitude, a spilt glass is a spilt glass, whether you laugh or scream and cry. It’s happened. Your approach to how you handle that will make you a happier person and folks happier to be around you).

We help him where we can, try to show him things. But no one else cares! If it’s not an instant quick fix to what he wants we need to shut up and back off. And it just fucning sucks to see how this is only going to end badly! He isn’t being raised how to handle anything at all in life. His moms off living her single life with her boyfriend and we’re trying to raise this kid with three adults who are all making things worse and overriding any progress we make.

Today. He snatched his laptop and made a point of putting it on the table during us prepping dinner. I took it out and told him it can wait until he’s done with dinner, we’re already trying to fix his phone. He will survive one dinner without being on his phone or computer.

He throws himself to the fucking FLOOR screaming and crying. I get yelled at by one of the grandparents while the great aunt tried to ‘reason’ with me. Last time she distracted me with what I thought was genuine conversation she was actually having with me but was really jsut so the kid could sneak his laptop into the kitchen. So I stood my ground this time. Let the kid throw his stupid fit. Dinner will be finished soon and he can play and watch his videos. He literally takes 10 minutes to eat and leaves. I’m in the midst of helping my wife cook and set the table when I’m told to essentially shut up and let him have the laptop and.

I just got so mad. I apologizes to my wife but i know my limits. I know them. And I was about to do or say something. It’s every god damned day with this. I literally wake up to this kid screaming and bitching and slamming doors and throwing fits cuz he wants something and he’s not getting it. He literally got those tiny finger plastic skateboards cuz he saw and wanted them. And his mom came and picked him up to go BUY these when she’s nearly broke, yelled at us for calling him out on this and how he could have waited, and then ten minutes later ask us for money and food for her pets.

And today?

Today I was so fucking done. So fucking mad. So mad at how they treat my wife. So mad at how their attitudes are ruining the development of this kid who I really do love and I only see him getting shittier as a person. And I went to our room. And my wife joined and cried and cried. Of course the kid got his laptop and all was fine for everyone downstairs. Of course it was. My wife had already cooked dinner and prepped the table. I already folded and hung out the latest laundry. Who cares if we’re hurting.

On my way up the stairs I told that kid he’s an asshole. To be fair its almost daily he screams at us to go fuck our selves and that we are assholes and how he hates us. I told him he treats his family badly, the family who loves him. And that’s what I left it at. They’re all Italian. I’m still learning to speak so I’m not able to articulate myself super strongly. Which makes ALL OF THIS so much harder and more frustrating. So so so much harder. But I’m so tired of my wife crying. I’m so tired of how they treat her. I hate how her aunt texted how she loves her and then goes on to excuse this kids shit behavior and reprimand our actions and shit. Why is it the kids feelings are the only ones that matter? Why is my wife constant collateral? You’re damned right I’m fuckin mad.

I’m struggling to work on overcoming my own personal problems and triggers with this EDMR therapy and I’m wakin up up a cocktail of some of my literal nightmares and the kid and family KNOW IT. They don’t know the finer details like my wife and therapist. But fuck man. They KNOW and yet they let him keep behaving like this. They keep telling us we are wrong and we’re being too hard on the kid and he’s struggling cuz his parents divorced.

Well shit kid. That sucks. I’m sorry. That’s rough. But you literally have a huge family of people who adore and love you. My god I would love to have that. Right now? The fucked up part? My closest kindest most helpful person in my life besides my wife is my father. His age has mellowed him out. He’s still fucked on some stuff. But it’s been nearly 30 years. He’s not totally changed but he surly is worlds away from the man I started out with. His financial help provides us food on the table. He recently helped us get a new fridge so my wife’s parents can use it without bending and hurting their backs.

Today I get informed by my mother in law, who had not been present for any of tonight’s drama, that my wife needs to stop and that I am to not curse as her grand son ever again. Which, I said he was being an asshole? Cuz he was? He was screaming Curses at us, has been nearly every day anytime he’s mad. I called him out. I didn’t scream it; I don’t scream. I want to be nothing like my father. But I did call him out. Am I proud for calling an 11 boy he’s an asshole? Erm. No. But god he’s emotionally abusive to this family ajd they allow and encourage it. I’m so scared he’s gonna end up pushing one of them in his fits and it’s gonna hurt one of them badly or worse! Their health’s already shaky. We’ve already had to help her father up the stairs and to the bathroom and get dressed and undressed due to him feeling back. Hell today my wife took him to a few different docs. It’s been a long fucking day.

This kid was being horribly rude and nasty to my wife. To the grandparents who love him. Was close to breaking stuff. All cuz he had to eat without his laptop! Cuz he didn’t listen and got water on his fuckin phone! Which is now working thank god; we fixed that. I just.

I want to cancel therapy. Wise? No. Probably not. But we NEED to get out of here.

We already don’t really have any friends. We kinda do. But it’s.. kinda temporary conditional. Generally more along the lines of ‘work’ related or we’re the only ones free at that moment in time. Not that they’re bad folks they just don’t need us like we need in return.

Personally I know I have problems. I’m boring. I’ve abandonment issues I have and still am working on. And I overthink and I’m so worried that this fucking cluster of things just.. make me one of those folks doomed to just. Not have friends. I hate myself every waking moment of my fucking life cuz I so badly want friends. I wish I didn’t. I have tried and tried to not want it. But I do. And it sucks. I know it’s me; when something keeps happening it’s clear you’re the problem. And I ask often. Maybe once a week, a month for sure, my wife what I am doing wrong. What I’m not doing enough. What I could do better. She doesn’t have any answers and I can’t keep asking her. I hate to ask. I hate wearing her down. I don’t know what to do. I am just a fun fling friend. A week, a month, sometimes a year or so, but then it dwindles and dies off

And I spent all my life living between homes when it wasn’t with my father, giving up on my privacy, on my interests, my freedom, to put on a smile ajd take on new chores, often caring for kids, and swallowing my own feelings and being less than second or even third place in anyone’s life; I just want someone to choose me first you know? I miss the days of having friends who were excited to have free time cuz that meant they had time to hang out or chat or something! I don’t beg; I won’t beg. I don’t want to have to fight for a slot in someone’s schedule and pray I get lucky. I also know I can’t expect people to have the same wants in a relationship as I do. And so I’m stuck. Sad, quiet, and thankful for what I get when I get it, and quietly letting stuff go. Because the few friends I have are decent folk, but I’m never going to be that friend folks want to be around to just be around.

And I’m still struggling to accept that. Cuz fuck. Alright it hurts. I look back and every friendship lasted only as long as I had something to provide in service. Once I couldn’t provide or they found something better, either they drifted off or just completely dropped off the radar. And that…

That sucks so fuckin much. I don’t think I’m a shitty person? I think I can be entertaining? I listen. Maybe my humor isn’t okay? I ramble too much? Too spacey? I go over the list so often I don’t even know. I’m tired.

I’m not talking romantic here but god I do want to be loved. Or at least have a couple folks good at faking it. I hate that I miss my most toxic friendships. At least they were around. I knew theyd talk to me. Want to. Would seek me out. I knew free days meant we were gonna chill (not always but a good chance!). And I know adult friendships are a bit different. I know work and romance and family take the front seat.

I just want to matter to someone a little more than the one use I can provide. I want to be more than a fun temporary distraction.

I’m beyond thankful for the woman I married. And I mourn that her friends live far away too. We both just want friends. I want to have my wife tell me she’ll be back late cuz she’s going out. I want to see her send me a silly photo or a food snap and have her come back home late, glowing and laughing and smiling with her friends. I want to invite them over to dinner and be on comfortable terms with them. I want to goofy around and be loud and rough house and geek out with my own friends. I want to have that found family you know?

Nearly everyone’s dead on my fathers side and whose left is.. best left alone. Or has made it clear they don’t thibk much of me. Ajd my mother’s side don’t talk to me. I moved so much I don’t know them and most of them never bothered cuz they never thought I’d survive as it were. My mother’s burnt bridges and that means any chance I had is pretty much gone. I don’t know where each and every cousin and and it’s just wierd to try and connect cuz we have blood. It’s just. Been too many many years. And it’s not like a single persons ever reached out my way you know? Polite to my face and I so back. But that’s the end of it.

God I’m just so burnt out. I’m so sad more than not. I’m trying to get out of my funk. I hate how I stay in bed. I don’t mean to. I just. It’s our only space to be left alone in, for the most part. Every home I’ve lived in being alone was best. My room (if I had that, or at the least it was shared with someone else), was one of the few solace’s. Usually my only real peace was the bathroom.

And I am finding it hard to break out of that. I want to quit therapy and save up money and get us OUT of here. I feel my progress would go better and my wife would be so much happier if we could just Get Out.

Maybe we’d even be fortunate and meet some friends who liked us and wanted to be around, if we had our own place? A fun possibility. I am use to running a house. I’ve done it countless times. It was my job with my father. Often it was a strange mash up of that with other families but with a lot less freedom.

I’ve stayed up all night cuz I feel like puking and I’m drowning and I needed to just.. get the thoughts out of my head just a little. I know I’ve only scratched the surface. I haven’t shared everything. I don’t really plan to. But these are the things most in my head

Dealing with this shit. On top of this therapy that has me reliving my childhood traumas one at a time to heal them over or some shit on top of waking up to screaming and doors slamming as my wife gets yelled at for trying to stop that situation sucks. Seeing my phone buzz only to constantly see just comic updates (often to comics I’m not even waiting on), my father messaging me either bad news or stuff he’s doing, and my mother with her bullshit and her bad news and guilt trips, instead of a friendly hello is just.

I’m tired of crying too. My fathers discipline has made me adverse to crying. I literally tore myself off the road when I wrecked my motorcycle, I forced my knee to bend so I could continue on my way to work where I treated the road rash, the rolled flesh, the open wounds, with rubbing alcohol— which took the breath right out of my fucking lungs, and I didn’t cry. But this shit?

I’m so worn. My therapist praises me for surviving when I wish I didn’t.

For my wife? I will try. For her. I can’t hurt her.

But god. What’s fucking relief it would be. I wish there was just something I could do. To fix this. To be less selfish and problematic. Though as I can very clearly remember wishing all my life for any kind of mercy to never see it, I know that’s not gonna happen. You are your own hero or your own villian. Right now I’m both and I’m losing.

I’m probably gonna just get dressed since the suns up and start drawing more wood plans. I need to make extra money. I can be sad and work; I’ve had jobs before. Ha.

I thoroughly believe life will be a little better once we have breathing room. I’m so tired.

#don’t read #just let me void scream #I’ll get over it #always do

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