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sneakydraws · 3 years

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Well, here it is - a lengthy explanation of each card in my mdzs major arcana deck and what I meant to convey/what i would have changed in retrospect/what alternatives i considered! It’s a bit messy and my typing style is lazy but hopefully it will be an interesting read to some of you :)

And so you don’t say I didn’t warn you - jiang cheng’s section (11 justice) is absurdly long lmao

0 the fool I elaborated on this in the post itself but yeah basically jin ling is kind of representative of all the damage and trauma caused by the past, and there’s a kind of danger there of him falling victim to the same vices as the older characters and repeating the same mistakes and perpetuating the cycle of war and misery (the cycle that we already see with how the jin sect became the new wen sect, and later with how jgy became the new wwx) and he has a lot of room to grow! He grows so much over the course of the novel, comes to realise the complexities of the past and gets a harsh life lesson in how nothing is as black and white as it seems. But ill save talking about his progress for the end, for now whats important is that he has room to grow and also a dog. I don’t really have a justification for the sun, i mostly just thought it looked sick? It made its way to the next card as well, where it makes a bit more sense, but then i realised it was a dumb motif to include 1 the magician I still very much like wwx for the role, and that illustration would have probably had him raising a corpse on his left and pointing threateningly to the sun on his right. I considered including the table as well, with some mdzs relevant items replacing the card suits. Anyway, like i said wwx got a few cards to himself already so i went with the alternative wq design, since i think she fits the card as well. Both she and wwx are highly skilled people, extremely driven once they set their mind to something. The card to me symbolises the creative mind as well as a general drive for action, which fits them both - wwx was famously a prolific inventor, and wq came up with a previously unheard of surgery, after all. This card strays pretty far from the rider-waite deck design, largely because i was still figuring out how i wanted to approach this series, but you can still see the influence. 2 the high priestess I was actually going to skip this card at first because I couldn’t think of a fitting character, but once i considered a qings character post death, it all fit pretty well. She was already a highly intuitive person in life, and in sharing her memories with wwx she is, in a way, relaying a kind of secret knowledge. Anyway she’s one of my fav characters so im glad i got a chance to include her. The coffins could be interpreted to be xxc and sl or xxc and xy 3 the empress Theres other mother figures in mdzs who got to be mothers for a longer time, but jyl definitely embodies the positive aspects of this card the best. She’s nurturing, kind, emotionally supportive, she already mothered wwx and jc quite a bit when she was young. Plus i liked that the rw card had both water and flowers, making an easy lotus connection. In retrospect the stars look kind of out of place and i should have replaced them with something more relevant... Also, i should have had her hold a lotus seed pod instead of a flower, haha 4 the emperor Like i said I considered jc for the role but hoching bullied me into admitting that nmj was better… they’re both more of an inverted emperor than an upright one but then again theres hardly any character in mdzs who would fit upright emperor so. Jgs was also considered but he’s even uglier than nmj so i couldn’t bear to draw him 5 the hierophant It was pointed out to me that lqr would have fit this card better and the truth if that statement haunts me to this day. Unfortunately I have no space in my brain for lqr so lxc got the role instead. My main reason was his role during the wen destruction of gusu lan, when he ran away with the contents of the library - this is why there’s bookshelves behind him. The keys, take, from the rider-waite deck, are meant to represent the gusu pendants that allow you to enter 6 the lovers Im sure many people would have chosen wangxian here but I uhh don’t really care abt wangxian personally? And also their love story is so convoluted that jyl and jzx seem idyllic by comparison lol. Also i didnt really have an idea for who to put in the angel’s place for wangxian… mme jin certainly did not get these two together in the end but undeniably she and mme yu did initially give them a chance to fall for each other so. Thats something i guess. Anyway the trees became their sects’ flowers and the mountain became the burial grounds - an omen of their tragic fate, basically 7 the chariot There might have been other characters who fit this card better but i couldn’t really think of another card for lwj and i thought it would be weird to not include him… anyway i don’t really care for current timeline lwj BUT i do like that he was clearly influenced by wwx to walk his own path in life based on his moral convictions rather than follow his sect’s rules blindly. The chariot is to me a card of self control, self determination and focused action, so it seemed fitting. The composition felt kind of empty without the actual chariot so i padded it out with the guqin, the cloud recess in the bg (it doesn’t look great but i tried to replicate the drama design….) and the bunnies which conveniently fit the colour scheme of the sphinxes in the rider-waite design 8 strength Like i said before, my interpretation of this card is more… morally ambiguous than the quote unquote official meaning, so i thought about manipulative or duplicitous characters more than kind characters whose strength is expressed through gentleness (though i did consider jyl briefly for the latter interpretation). As such, i considered both jgy and nhs, but ended up going with jgy largely because i couldn’t pass up the opportunity to put the nie sect’s beast as the lion. 9 the hermit My thoughts immediately went to bssr lol. It may be an overly literal interpretation but whatever, i like it just fine. And i like that i managed to echo the rider-waite silhouette in the mountain and the tree (and even in bssr herself) 10 wheel of fortune God i love the parallels between these 2… this card to me is about how you cant trust your current situation, good or bad, to last forever, and these 2 embody that perfectly imo. Wwx went from son of a well off servant and a powerful cultivator, to street rat orphan, to adopted son of sect leader jiang, to double orphan, to MIA, to terrifying but admired warrior, to terrifying and despised traitor, to dead, to, at the very end, suddenly respected and trusted again. The dishonesty and cheapness of whatever the public’s current opinion of him is is portrayed beautifully as far as im concerned. And jgy of course claws his way up to power only to instantaneously become public enemy number one, to the point that he’s probably blamed for stuff there’s no reason to believe he had a hand in. Wei wuxian’s silent astonishment at how quickly the cultivation world turns against jgy and towards him again is a delicious moment of thematic resonance. 11 justice I settled on this card for jc after he got booted from the emperor seat but i do think it fits, in a somewhat convoluted way. I turned both the sword and the scales into visual representations of the golden core transfer (can you tell im obsessed with it). According to biddy tarot, the justice card is partly about searching for the truth, and the scene where jc finds out about the transfer is of course a big deal. I was also very influenced by the reversed meaning again - which is about being reluctant or unwilling to face or accept the consequences of your actions. I feel on an intuitive level that this fits jc but I’m not sure how well i can explain it - it’s something about how he’s a little too comfortable scapegoating wwx for things that were also, if much less so, influenced by his actions, and also something about the way he keeps wwx at an arm’s length emotionally but still leans on him and accepts his support when he really needs it, and somewhat hypocritically expects wwx to put the needs of him and the jiang sect before the needs of others. And also something about the core exchange is the consequence and proof of wwx’s deep - terrifyingly deep, even - love and care for him, which is something jc doesn’t seem to let himself acknowledge. Maybe even something about how you could argue that the way all of the jiangs acted around wwx - jfm’s favouritism that left him with the feeling of a debt he needs to repay, mme yus insistence that he be a servant more than a brother to jc, prepared to give his life for jc, and jc’s own unwillingness - or inability, he was a child after all - to clearly acknowledge wwx as an equal to himself, enabling wwx’s self sacrificial and protective tendencies - that all of this was what caused wwx’s complete and unquestioning willingness to do whatever it took to protect jc, and therefore paved the way to the golden core transfer. And i don’t mean this to be scapegoating jc - especially considering how young he was when this all went down, it wouldn’t be fair to expect this level of emotional perceptiveness, awareness and maturity of him - but i think adult jc has to grapple with the fact that the chain of cause and effect was not as simple as wwx fucking everyone’s lives up to be a martyr, and that both jc and his parents had a role in that story as well. I don’t even necessarily think this is something that jc only realised in the current timeline - i think it’s something he felt on some level this whole time, and it probably led to a lot of feelings of guilt - but the suibian reveal definitely puts it in sharp focus, and i think he’s now better equipped to handle this introspection than he was as a recently orphaned, traumatised teenager, lol. ANYWAY the window with the fabric is both a nod to the rider-waite design and a reference to the destruction of lanling - i actually did some basic ass research for this, and it seems that in ancient china fabric would indeed be hanged in a window if the normally used paper was damaged. The design of the window, as well as the very idea to use it to imply the reconstruction of lanling, was taken from this great piece of jc angst by my pal moroll1! Oh yeah also the covered window kind of works as a denial of forgiveness for jc because it’s like a halo but covered up... Also I completely forgot to put a blindfold over his eyes which would be perfectttt because blind justice and the core exchange......... ok moving on 12 the hanged man I always have issues with this card because i cant find a satisfactory summary of what it’s really about. Best i can tell it symbolises a need to hit pause, surrender or let go of something… ive also seen it tied to sacrifice? So mo xuanyu doesn’t fit perfectly, but sacrifice is definitely there in a surface level reading kind of way, and the idea that you have to surrender or let go in order to achieve your goal does fit the whole deal of getting revenge but giving up your life in exchange and not being there to see it 13 death This is probably one of my favourite cards, definitely not because I have huge issues with change or anything…. I see this card as signalling the necessity of change or putting an end to something / leaving something in the past in order to start anew? At first i considered putting past wwx, mxy and current wwx here as a kind of transformation and one cycle flowing into the next... But firstly, I’d already used mxy in the very previous card, so putting him in again would feel like overkill, and secondly, the longer I thought about it the less convinced I was that this would even fit with the card’s meaning? Because coming back from the dead doesn’t like... trigger an internal transformation within wwx or anything? Anyway, fun fact: the design I ended up going with was actually originally intended for judgement! I thought I was being very clever with the whole “figure plays an instrument and the dead rise” parallel, but apparently I’d just completely forgotten that the judgement card had a completely different composition... Truly I was boo boo the fool... But yeah anyway at the end of the day I figured the design would kind of work for death as well, with Wen Ning and the theme of transformation, (since in his case coming back as a fierce corpse does actually mark a certain transformation in behaviour) and Wei Wuxian’s protection of the Wen people essentially signifying an attempt to break the cycle of oppression if that makes any sense? Like, wwx is trying to revolutionise the way the world works a bit, if you catch my drift 14 temperance The centrist card! Again this is probably going off track from the “official” interpretation, but to me this card has a certain “don’t commit fully; do everything in moderation; don’t take either side” flavour to it that i personally find infuriating irl and that i very much assign to lxc. It’s entirely possible that I’m misinterpreting his character because i didn’t really pay him (and the 3zun in general) much mind while reading, but hell, I’m allowed to pick favourites and choose who i want to interpret deeply vs shallowly. Again, i wish id chosen lqr for hierophant because its so annoying for a character i don’t care about to get two cards…. But oh well 15 the devil My alternative idea for this was jgy as the devil and lxc plus nmj as the figures, but since all three had been featured already (multiple times, even!) i figured I’d go with xy instead, especially since he’s among my faves lol. I think the devil signifies something along the lines of unhealthy attachment, obsession or addiction, which isn’t 100% accurate in the case of xxc and a-qing, but if i stretch it a bit to cover toxic relationships in general, and especially manipulation or negative influence, i don’t think it’s half bad. My main struggle here was to choose who amongst the xxc/sl/aq trio to choose for the human figures. 16 the tower Arguably jin zixuans death and the following massacre of nightless city were the final and most direct reason for the siege of burial mounds, and the tiger seal is good shorthand for wwx’s loss of control over his powers, which led to the deaths of jzx and jyl. When reimagining major arcana i like to feature some kind of building in this card (spoilers for a possible future project but in my rose of versailles major arcana set the tower is bastille) and even if it’s not a tower, the image of wwx looming over the gathered crowd from atop a rooftop is so good i couldn’t resist 17 the star Struggled with this one - considered both jin ling and lsz for it, as symbolising a hope for the future, but that was kind of covered by the world so it wouldn’t make sense to include here as well... As usual when I struggle with interpreting a card (as opposed to understanding it but struggling with matching a character to it, like with death or moon) I went to biddy tarot and read all the details about its meaning. What i got was that this card signifies an incoming period of introspection and inner peace following a time of turmoil, as well as a general moving on into a new, better phase of one’s life or finding new meaning and purpose. The figure also suggests someone vulnerable, but possessing a keen sense of intuition as well as a good degree of practicality and common sense. Given all those, I settled for mianmian because IM LOVE HER..... I also kind of see her as a prelude to the “just one person is enough” theme present in tgcf!! And i think her decision to abandon her sect because she saw the toxicity and corruption in it is a very inspiring action - even if it didn’t make a large visible impact, i think the appearance of her and her idyllic family at the very end of the novel - paralleling and mirroring wangxian - implies that at the end of the day, it was a meaningful one 18 the moon Another card i ALWAYS fuxking struggle with - this time less because i can’t grasp its meaning and more because I can never find a character that fits it well. I usually get fixated on the “dreams and subconscious” part, but if i lean more on the “disguise, deceit, anxiety and fear” part, i eventually figured the whole yi city arc wouldn’t be a bad fit. I say the entire arc because it really does encompass all those themes if you include both the past and the present - xue yang’s disguise, his tricks with the villagers, a-qing’s lies and even xxc’s reluctance to talk about his past as well as xue yang pretending to be xxc all fit the disguise and deceit angle, and the general mystery and creepiness of the current timeline yi city work well with the anxiety and fear - the mist, the slow uncovering of the past, even a-qing being revealed to be an ally after scaring the shit out of the protags. I definitely struggled with including all the elements and characters, and even moreso with making them vaguely fit the rider-waite composition, but i think it ended up okay ish. OH and i completely forgot to draw mist swirling around them :( 19 the sun I was considering mianmian’s family for this one, but since I used her for star, I ended up with wwx and his parents instead. Once again I’m reinterpreting the card a bit - normally I think it symbolises incoming times of pure happiness and abundance, as well as a connection with the inner child, but I gave it more of a nostalgic or sentimental twist - wwx looking back at the brief glimpse of his happy childhood. 20 judgement another card that i struggle to interpret a bit... Here i actually used the tgcf tarot zine as a reference! In it judgement is summarised as “rebirth, following duty, absolution” SO i figured that nhs, mxy and wwx all together would fit pretty neatly... wwx achieving (public) absolution through clearing his own name after being reborn, and nhs sort of calling on wwx to expose jgy’s crimes... It’s a bit messy but not bad I think! 21 the world This ties very closely to my read on mdzs as a story - which is that it’s, at the end of the day, largely about cycles, and about how hard it is to break them, but how we gotta keep trying and have hope anyway. Or maybe more precisely, that the people directly involved with and influenced by the trauma of the past might not be able to get over said trauma and that the hope for healing from it will be shouldered by the new generation. Or something like that… Basically what i mean is that jc and wwx and lwj and lxc and nhs and jgy and all these people who were in the thick of the sunshot campaign and the siege are so profoundly affected by it that it genuinely feels by the end of the story like there is little hope for them to ever truly overcome that trauma and build a better future without repeating the same old mistakes - but there is a glimmer of hope in the new generation, specifically in jl and lsz. And it’s a bit paradoxical, because they have also been directly impacted by the past tragedies - lsz having his entire clan wiped out after wwx failed to protect them, jl losing both his parents to wwx’s mistakes - but despite that loss, and despite coming from arguably the two opposing sides of the past conflicts, they are both, in the end, capable of moving past that tragedy, of recognising the complicated nature of those conflicts (jl’s moment of clarity at the end is both heartbreaking and hopeful) and forging friendships between clans in the process. I honestly think that the extra where jl is struggling to assert his authority as sect leader, to treat his subjects well and to cooperate with other sects in a truly amicable way is the single hopeful ending note for the larger themes of the novel - it allows us to imagine that maybe these kids can learn from the mistakes of their elders rather than getting sucked in by resentment at those mistakes, and actually build a brighter future for the cultivation world. And sidenote, this is also why i have a soft spot for jin ling and lan sizhui as a ship... speaking of which their poses were directly referenced from the lovers card ehehe

Looking back, I’d like to add some symbol of jin ling’s trauma so that it mirrors baby wen yuan in the tree stump... maybe his father’s sword?

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #tarot

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alwaysthinkingoutloud · 3 years

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Hannibal Episode-by-Episode Meta/Analysis: Episode 1, Season 1 (Apéritif)

The series start with Will Graham in a crime scene doing what he does, which is resurrecting crime scenes for further evidence and possible insight into the criminal’s mind and motives. What is interesting about this first scene is that for a first-time viewer, for the first a few minutes, it is not clear if what we are watching is a possible reenactment or it is actually a memory. That doubt gets cleared in a minute but until then, we don’t know if he is imagining or is he remembering. Is he a guy with a powerful imagination helping FBI who literally puts himself into the killer’s shoes or is he the killer itself, hiding in plain sight? To my thinking, the very first opening to the story does say a lot about the end of it all as well.

“This is my design”

Why not say plan, but design instead? Planning is something mechanical, strategical. It is the result of motive and effort of a rational brain rather than an acted-on urge. There is no much room for subjectivity or creativity since efficiency is the ultimate goal. However, design has a more artistical ring to it. It is like, its prior aim is not to be useful, but to be beautiful. Designing is done when aesthetics is of concern. We would say, Michelangelo designed David, plan would not look right there. It would be accurate as for explaining the mathematical part of it, the disciplined and patient hours that has been put into it, but it would not do justice to the inspiration, passion, and desperate need of the artist for his creation to materialize. A planner would not adore his work, but a designer would. And Will understands the difference a bit too well.

Later, talking with Jack Crawford, we learn that Will finds the name of Evil Minds Research Museum “hammy”. I do not think there is anything hammy about the name, it’s quite literal. It is not an ennobler name but why does Will find it so though? Does creativity and originality need to be perceived as abhorrent just because it was given birth by someone evil? This all-cautious way of approaching and overthinking things is a reflection of something dark within. Afterall, what is seen has at least a little to do with the seeing eyes, if not more.

Jack exhibits a disturbingly dominant way of communication with Will. He corrects Will’s eyeglasses, the guy who he knows is not comfortable with any kind of interpersonal interaction, within the minutes of their chat and holds down his bag to slow down his moving on. He is trying to make sure that Will feels Jack is the alpha and also that deep down, Will does not have the option to not cooperate. And more Will gets convinced to help for one step, stronger Jack drags Will into it for one more.

The first time we see Will interacting with any victim-related people, it is confusing. Being an empath and claiming that he can not only relate to narcissists and sociopaths but anyone, he does not seem to empathize much with the victim’s parents, cutting into the conversation about parents’ doubts on their daughter’s likelihood of being alive with a non-emotional, case related question. It almost makes you question if his ability to emphathize is just stronger with the dark side of the force than it is with the light one. Yes, the primer focus is to catch the killer and stop whatever malice is going on but after all, Jack came to Will with the need of help, so Jack must care about the case resolving more than he does. Yet, Jack seems more understanding of the parents’ feelings than Will, although Will is an ultimate empath. We even see Jack’s disapproval when Will cuts into the conversation. It is a brow mover.

Next, we get more insight about Will as he meets Winston. He finds him on the road roaming, tries to get close to him but cannot, so he drives all the way to his home to get something to lure him with and comes back to the dog. He is willing to go lengths to add a new dog to his pack, to his ‘family’, to his ‘social circle’. Something he is not willing nor comfortable to do for a person. Will's preferring an animal's company to a person's may say more than obvious. Afterall, he chooses Hannibal over Jack too, doesn't he?

Will who has already started to get traumatized by the case, is ambushed in the bathroom by Jack with an unforgiving mobbing, forcing ideas out of Will and stirring him up in the expense of his stability. Later on in his little chat with Alana, Jack’s intentions and priorities are further put into perspective. The way he talks about Will shows that for him, Will is more of a means to an end than an actual colleague. His insistence about “putting Will out there” despite Alana’s warnings and his admission of not being absolutely capable of protecting Will’s mental health just crowns that he does not genuinely care about Will. In fact, he even knows the risk of what he is doing, and he is trying to draw Dr. Bloom in to share, if not all together blame it on, the responsibility if something may go wrong.

We finally meet Hannibal in his office in a therapy session with his patient. The look Dr. Lecter throws when Franklyn blows his nose and places the dirty napkin onto the table… Up to this scene, we were not given any clue to suggest that Hannibal Lecter is a killer but after all, we do know who he is. And him being the first actual predator in the series we meet, we do not see him acting on brute violence or inelegant butchering. His first reaction depicted is unrest against rudeness. So the audience is welcomed into the mind of Lecter with an easily apprehensible act that can be shared by almost anyone. Almost to suggest that, this act of Franklyn’s may be enough to justify a wrath that may come upon him.

Jack shows up in Hannibal’s office unannounced and mistakes Franklyn with Hannibal. Hannibal, of course slightly annoyed, tells Jack to wait in the waiting room and invites him in with his own timing. Being a bossy and dominant guy he is, this takes Jack by surprise and it also tells us that there is an even stronger alpha here. So Jack realizes he cannot dominate Hannibal into his will like he did with Will. He may have to try something else. As Jack asks questions that are getting more specific and personal as they come, we see Hannibal getting cautious. Taking his scalpel into his hand and eyes widening. He lowers his guard only when he learns that he was referred to Jack by Dr. Bloom, his eyes visibly getting smaller, which are almost the only window to his thoughts anyway. So after seeing the sophisticated aura leaking not only out of Hannibal but everything around him, Jack chooses to sweet talk him into cooperation.

When Jack, Hannibal and Will first come together in a room, it is the first time in the show where Will makes such a long, non-blinked eye contact with someone, that being Hannibal. And we see mixed emotions and thoughts on Hannibal’s face. He is amused, intrigued and curious at the same time with the way Will thinks. He makes a quick analyze of Will which results in making him fling out of the room. Being the controlled, non-impulsive, strategic guy he is; even Hannibal himself is a little surprised with the sudden blurbing of his perception of Will. So maybe this first scene having Will and Hannibal together is another kind of first as well with both men doing something not typically them.

Hannibal, telling Jack that “he may help Will see the cannibal’s face”, he copies the crime of Minnesota Shrike. At the first look, this looks like an attempt of toying with the FBI and confusing them. But considering Hannibal’s last conversation with Jack, this feels more like a tribute, a helping hand for Will. Hannibal knows that Will would know that this is not the same killer the second he sees the crime scene. As Will later says to Hannibal, this was done to show Will a negative so that he could see the positive. So, we see from this point on that Hannibal’s wit does not focus on FBI, it does on Will. We see Hannibal eating and smiling, joyous of the fact that he now has an object of interest. Will imagining of a stag right after this, as stag will be the subconscious symbol of the Chesapeake Ripper / Copycat Killer before Will knows who he is and later when he does, of Hannibal; it shows that Hannibal literally entered his life and mind in more than one way.

Hannibal shows up in Will’s house very early and obviously very impatiently. So he does not only plan to interfere Will with being the Copycat Killer but through his ‘person suit’ as well. Feeding Will the meat of the girl he killed is also exciting for Hannibal as this manipulation game he has set to play with Will gets to be sicker for a normal human perception.

The breakfast scene is also the first time where Hannibal is looking for some ill-intent or killing inclination in Will, while Will denies having so. He wonders how much being able to empathize with killers say about Will’s own potential to do so. Hannibal suggests that Jack is treating Will as he is “a fragile little teacup, only used for special guests”. And that he himself sees him as “a mongoose that he would want under the house when snakes slither by”. He suggests that Will is not a pray that should be afraid to get hurt, that he is the predator. By that Hannibal does not only encourage the destructiveness Will may be trying hard to keep buried to come alive, but also the false perception that Will’s mind is strong enough to take any challenge Jack may throw his way.

Hannibal warning Garret Jacob Hobbs is literally setting the pieces in position of his will to get Will where and how he wants. He does not know what will be waiting in Hobbs’ house for Will but in the end, it does not matter so much since he just wants to see what happens.

When they arrive at the house, seeing Hobbs leaving his wife on the threshold her throat cut, Hannibal stands still. Is it because he is so confident that Will will be too frantic to ever look back and notice that, or is it because deep down he just does not feel like putting his person suit on in front of Will? I think both. When Will shots Hobbs and tries to tend Abigail on the floor, Hannibal walks in and sees Will caring hard for the girl. Hannibal’s face looks curious about what is going on but more than that, again, his focus is on Will more than it is on anything else. He sees all these humane emotions that Hannibal himself has always been somewhat stranger too on Will, those emotions that he thought, cannot come in a package with all the destructive ones. But maybe they can. And those emotions may even look nice. Because it almost does on Will. Although how the events would turn out Hannibal did not know, it was certain that the way he pushed things, there would be blood and there would be Will doing something that will change him one way or the other. After all, they have undergone a traumatic (for Will) and exciting (for Hannibal) circumstance together and it is a known fact that people who experience a significant situation together tend to develop emotional bonds. Maybe this was the least of what Hannibal hoped for. If that was the case, he got more than he wished. Will got to kill someone even if it was for a just reason and there happened to be an orphaned girl that Will desperately bonded the moment he killed her father, who maybe a manipulative tool for Hannibal in his game. The last scene where Will finds Hannibal holding Abigail’s hand in the hospital room highlights this perfectly. Now, Hannibal and Will has a mutual asset that Hannibal may use to draw Will closer to himself despite of Will’s initial reservations to do so.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #will #will graham #hannigram #brian fuller #nbc hannibal #hannibal meta #hannibal analysis #hannibal and will #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #murder husbands #will and hannibal #jack crawford #hannibal loves will #will loves hannibal #aperitif

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katherinewilliams221b · 3 years

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For A Greater Good 16/18

Not my gif. Before It’s Too Late

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

[Part 15]

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds

Classes were over, grades had been hung in the corridor, and Durmstrang celebrated that another year was over.

Kate was forcing a comb through her brown waves when she heard laughter and hasty footsteps outside her dorm. Returning her attention to her hair, she pressed more insistently on the knot that was refusing to untangle and contemplated the day ahead of her; the Annual Exposition of Dark Arts had arrived and with it, the crushing fear of not leaving Durmstrang anytime soon.

She had told Dumbledore and Rhode she was no auror; she didn’t have training in catching criminals, if that’s what one of these people were.

“Well, it’s not like someone will raise their hand and say ‘it’s me, Kate, take me to Azkaban.’” She murmured to her reflection in the rusty mirror next to the door.

Why? Why had Dumbledore put her there? What was she supposed to do? Almost six months had passed; she had heard from Dumbledore only once, and Rhode was so busy with the school’s events that had practically forgotten why she was there.

But Kate still remembered. She still remembered what happened to Flavia Hodges.

Having abused her locks enough, she attempted to shape them into curls, twirling some hairs around her finger. When she finished, she traced her dragon necklace before securing it under her robes.

Who would be willing to join a Dark Wizard? And why? For a greater good, as Corentin had said? Or maybe for more personal reasons? No one was exempt from guilt, no one was good or bad; Cassandra Steiner was rude and disagreeable, but she was a mediwizard and cared for others; Flavia Hodges was almost murdered and Kent Jorgensen would have protected the man he thought was guilty, but he wasn’t ill-intended and seemed to be a clever man; Leron Angelov was sick and violent with his son, but he had enough problems to be a criminal; Libor Marek was intolerant and prejudiced, adequate characteristics for a Death Eater, but that didn’t make him one; and the only thing that Kate knew about Mer Yankelevich was that she was a liar.

She let out a heavy sigh and made her way to the desk. After grabbing her cloak from her chair and fastening it around her neck, she grabbed the several items she intended to carry with her at all times: her wand, her diary, the list and the trick wand that the Weasley twins had sent her.

The night before, tidying up her belongings, she had found the box that Fred and George had sent her and thought it could be a good farewell gift to Vivien, in case she wanted to give a lesson to Jon Hopkins.

She felt uncomfortable with everything she was carrying on her. The list and her notebook were inside her improvised pockets, and both wands were safely tucked in each sleeve. Impractical for the occasion, but with everyone distracted with the AEDA, it was very easy for someone to slip out of there unseen, and she had no intention of anyone walking into her room and finding those items. After fastening her ankle boots, she headed outside.

Rhode had not been exaggerating when she described the AEDA as the biggest event of the year; the corridors were ostentatiously decorated with garlands and lights; countless carriages arrived on the castle grounds one after another and the doors to the dining hall were open all day, held up by pillars from which people could grab pamphlets describing the event’s activities.

Tables had been rearranged to form the various displays, and the students were dressed in their finest robes to honour the occasion.

The hustle and bustle of the day made the place unrecognisable, characterised by its usual gloom and darkness.

She advanced through the hall, pausing from time to time to watch project demonstrations and congratulate those taking part in the competition. Her eyes fell on a familiar face next to her; Leron Angelov sat behind a table where a seventh-grade girl explained her work to three wizards who, judging by their golden robes, were the judges.

“The potion lets you transfigure into whatever animal or object at will, only for a few minutes…” she exposed. Kate approached Angelov and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t do that.” Leron stared at her and stopped scratching his arms.

After wandering around for a while, she finally reached her own table, greeted her students and settled wizards and witches filed in and out of the room, delighting in the students’ magnificent works.

She wished with all her might that she could share their enthusiasm.

She gave several forced smiles, for Rhode’s sake, as the organiser of the event she wanted everything to go smoothly, but deep inside she was overwhelmed by a deep worry that she didn’t know how much longer she could bear.

“It’s really ugly.” She overheard one of her students, Greta, referring to her umbrella flower. Several of her children were standing behind a table, presenting their work to the audience.

A single umbrella flower, magically modified to remain a medium size, floated above the table; its vibrant red colour stood out among the sober tones of the place. The top of the plant, usually hollow to do justice to its name, now was decorated with thirty-seven fangs all around the base, giving it the appearance of a weird-looking lamp.

“You should be proud,” she reminded them, “You’ve managed to do something wonderful.”

“It’s still horrendous.” Jon Hopkins commented, wrinkling his nose.

“We’ve done next to nothing...” lamented Micael. Kate raised her eyebrows.

“What do you mean, you haven’t? We needed every single one of your plants, remember they didn’t all germinate, and only one of them got these results. And these posters explaining the whole process? They are priceless...”

They were still not convinced, so she kept insisting “In a few years, someone will want to do the same as you and they will be grateful to have your work as a reference”.

A man and a woman approached their table and after reading a few paragraphs of their report, left without comment. Everyone visibly deflated.

“By the way, where is Vivien? I have something for her...” asked Kate. Micael shrugged.

She looked around, but it was impossible to find anyone among the crowd. She saw a few familiar faces; like Jorgensen chatting animatedly with some seventh year students or Sheyi Mawut, who was making his way through the wizards towards her. There was no sign of any other teacher.

“Well, well! This is the first time in a long time I’ve seen first-year students exhibiting. What have we got here?” Mawut looked at Kate with a smile and she touched two fingers to Micael’s elbow. The boy looked at her and Kate nodded.

“We have created the first umbrella flower with teeth, Professor! It’s one of a kind because the species itself is unique. It floats like an umbrella flower and has teeth like a fanged geranium...”

Kate watched proudly as Micael’s other classmates came up to support him in his rehearsed explanation, some interrupting the speech out of excitement at being able to contribute something.

“And you did this on your own?” Suddenly the children fell silent and looked at the ground or anywhere but Mawut’s face.

“They’ve done all the hard work,” Kate interjected, “Finding the plant, germinating it, growing the geraniums, crossing the two species...”

“How wonderful... can I read your notes?” Mawut let out a laugh as a mountain of notebooks were at his disposal in a matter of seconds. “Maybe just one will be enough.”

The teacher’s kindness managed to relax Kate just a little.

“I’ve got better at my flying practice, Coach Mawut!” Greta commented, “Do you think I’ll ever be as good as Lena?” Kate raised her head at the familiar name.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Who?” she asked to extend that conversation.

“Lena?” Mawut pointed to some drawings and nodded, smiling, “Lena Yankelevich, she was an impressive seeker. Several top teams like the Vratsa Vultures or Heidelberg Harriers wanted to make contracts with her.”

“What happened?” Mawut closed the notebook and thanked Micael for his explanation. Greta tugged at Kate’s sleeve, causing the fake wand to brush against her skin.

“She died, Professor Williams...” she lamented.

“In the middle of a match… She disappeared into the mountains and never came back. Some Muggle climbers were in the area and saw her, and we found her surrounded by three men who had stolen her broom. But we shouldn’t have gone...” He paused and in a quieter voice added, “The climbers got scared when they saw us. There was a lot of commotion and they pushed Lena... down the cliff. No one knew how Lena had come to that situation.”

A witch casually approached the table and wrote something down on a piece of paper. Everyone around her watched in silence as she looked at the plant and then nodded before turning away.

Mawut went to add something else, but Libor Marek joined them.

“This is an unfair competition.... and what is this? A plant?” He grimaced, and Kate glanced at Mawut before averting her eyes to the rest of the room.

Astrid Rhode had stepped on the pallet where her lectern stood. After rearranging her papers, the witch cleared her throat and drew everyone’s attention to her.

“I can’t begin to express how wonderful it is to have all of you here on this special occasion. To honour this event, let me introduce you to Lazar Berović, a former winner of the AEDA thanks to his system to identify and capture chameleon ghouls.” Kate joined the round of applause with little interest. The man in question took Astrid’s place and started his speech.

Her mind drifted to the single hair that had fallen on her sleeve, and she dully grabbed it between two fingers as slowly as she could, making an effort of not listening the ghoul-hunting narrative they were being ‘gifted’.

She had a document whose content had expanded over the last month, completing a full page and a successfully finished project. There was nothing to keep her at that school any longer. Nothing, except the original reason she was there: to find a supposed Death Eater.

But I want to leave.

Would Dumbledore be angry if she returned early? But how much longer would she have to stay?

I want to go home. I want to go to Charlie.

Then come home.

Charlie’s voice again, echoing in her head as if he were talking to her right next to her. This time she didn’t panic, it was the push she needed to make her decision. Dumbledore would have to settle for the list.

But she would be leaving a bunch of children in the hands of a murderer. No, she’d figure it out when she was safe. If anyone wanted the scroll Kate had in her possession, she’d have to flee before it was too late.

The speech was over, and the room filled with the previous murmur of happiness and excitement.

“Excuse me...” Kate stepped away from the group, leaving Micael in charge of defending the front, and made her way to the door.

She hadn’t realised how much she’d become accustomed to the noise until she’d walked a few corridors away from the dining room. With everyone partying in the middle, Kate and the silence went hand in hand all the way to the library. Or at least, that was where she was headed, had she not come face to face with Corentin.

“Ah, Katherine, I was just on my way to the exhibition...” The librarian’s smile crumbled at the sight of her expression.

“Corentin...” she whispered, “I think... I need to get out of here.” They both looked around, but they were alone.

“And how do you plan to do that? With a carriage? They don’t leave until the 20th.”

“I have to go get my trunk and apparate. I don’t know... I’ll jump to Romania and... then to England.” Corentin shook his head.

“I’d recommend three jumps at least.”

“I don’t know that many places! I don’t know where we are!”

“Keep your voice down.” They dissimulated again as two wizards passed in front of them. They greeted each other cordially, and when they were out of range, Corentin grabbed Kate’s elbow. “Everyone is in the Dining Hall. In fifteen minutes the band Rhode has brought will start playing so everyone will be paying attention. Go to your room and stay there until I let you know.”

“What are you planning?”

“We’ll apparate together. We’ll do Sweden, Germany, France and you go to England alone.”

“Corentin...”

“You go. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.” The librarian didn’t give Kate a chance to question him, and she watched him march in his bat form down the corridor.

She turned and broke into a jog towards the side staircase on the ground floor, a shortcut that would take her to her bedroom. She slowed when she felt a presence around her. She sensed desperation by legilimency, and it wasn’t her own. Anger too, even fear.

She turned a corner, but someone was waiting for her. Strong but elegant hands clamped over her mouth and grabbed her robe, pinning her against a chest.. Her pulse quickened, as did her breathing. She tried to free herself from the arm that held her, but it was too strong.

Slowly, the hand covering her mouth slid to the side and reached her neck. Kate couldn’t breathe. She felt the hand tighten around her neck and Mer Yankelevich’s needle-like nails made contact with her skin.

“Give me your wand.” Kate made a movement too sharp for the teacher’s liking and she gripped her tighter. “Slowly.” She tried to take a deep breath, but she had begun to shake in such a way she couldn’t concentrate on her breathing. “Give me your wand, now.”

With an idea half-formed in her head, she moved her left arm to release the wand. Seeing her, Mer snatched it from her hand and jabbed it into her back. “Let’s go for a walk. Don’t even think about running or screaming” They strolled to the other end of the ground floor. They passed by several wizards and in the eyes of the world everything was normal.

Just as the teacher muttered “Incarcerous” the Weasley twins’ wand trap rose into the air and began to hit Mer in the head. Taking advantage of her absent-mindedness, Kate broke free of her grip and ran off in search of the front door. She pulled her real wand out of her other sleeve, knowing Mer was very close behind her.

Just a little closer.

She ran through the sea of people in front of the door, hoping to get lost in the crowd. She glanced back as she went, but there was no sign of the teacher.

She left the castle with bated breath, and hastily pulled her diary from her pocket, muttered ‘Reducto’ turning it into a tiny, almost unrecognisable object, and continued running towards the bridge.

Maybe she could take refuge in the forest, go to the coordinates Dumbledore had given her, maybe the stranger would find her if it was an emergency. She cursed when she remembered she had burned the map.

She was about to reach the other side of the bridge when something hit her from behind, causing her to fall to the ground.

With a scream she hit the stone, and from the ground she saw Mer Yankelevich striding towards her. She looked around frantically, searching for her wand. She reached out and drew the weapon towards her before pointing it at the teacher.

Yankelevich paused, pointing her wand at Kate, and waited for her to rise from the ground. Both witches stared down at each other in a duelling stance, and the spells soon began to explode. Kate fought back as best she could, trying to remember some of Marek’s tricks, but Mer was the Charms teacher and she knew that at any moment she would tire herself out until she lost.

“You’ve got something that’s mine!” shouted Mer between curses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Kate started to walk backwards, trying to go around Mer and turn her back on the castle, but the teacher was quicker and cornered her against the bridge wall.

“The stone! Where is it?”

“I don’t have any stone!” Kate peeled away from the bridge wall, dodging spells with little grace. One in particular made her ears pop, and she could barely hear Mer accusing her of lying repeatedly.

“How did you get in the room?” shouted Yankelevich, “The column broke!” Kate gasped as a stunning spell hit her leg and she staggered backwards. Focused on not falling to the floor, she didn’t notice the parchment flying out of her robes.

“You broke it?” Kate asked as she tried to catch her breath, “Why?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. That’s the entrance to Grindelwald’s room, and I was trying to open it.” She took a few steps towards Kate, pointing her wand at her. “So tell me; how did you get in?” her accusatory tone made the young witch flinch. Kate bit her tongue, physically, to avoid revealing how wrong she was. In case she didn’t make it out of this situation alive, the teacher must not know her way into the room.

With Charlie in mind, she lowered her wand, hoping to give Yankelevich a sense of security. Band music began to play from inside the castle, conveniently deafening those inside and isolating them from the catastrophe that may or may not be occurring on the bridge.

In only an instant, Kate noticed how the teacher got distracted by the sound of the instruments and took advantage of her glance over her head to begin a duelling offensive. Mer defended herself gracefully, dodging and occasionally returning her opponent’s attacks. Kate’s chances diminished with each spell.

Yankelevich turned her back on the castle, and it was at that moment Kate realised her previous oversight. There, at the feet of the person who might be her executioner, the list of Death Eaters’ names lay within her grasp.

“Mer,” she began cautiously, “all this is for your sister? None of this is worth it.”

“What do you know! Do you have a dead sibling? You have no idea...” It was a stab in the heart without knowing it. The internal debate in Kate’s stomach was making her dizzy, and as she considered whether to tell her story, the teacher crouched at the sight of the document. “We all lose loved ones. Angelov, Jorgensen, Marek, myself.” Mer ignored her.

“So this is how Karkarov intended to communicate with the Ministry...” The parchment flew through the air as Kate’s spell impacted against the teacher’s hand. Both witches began a dance of lights and explosions again, swirling around unknowingly gravitating towards each other.

The castle doors burst open and a third wave of spells shot towards them. Libor Marek was almost galloping in their direction furiously airing his wand.

“Mer!”

Kate let out a choked cry as Yankelevich twisted her arm backwards. She had managed to physically reach her and after pulling at her forearm, one hand with threatening nails anchored her neck against the teacher’s chest; with the other, she pointed her wand at Kate’s temple.

Both witches looked at Marek with completely opposite expressions.

“Mer... Let go of the girl.” He warned, holding up a hand.

“Look, your guardian angel has arrived. Day after day, that man has been preventing you and I from having a friendly chat, always sitting outside your classroom, hovering in the corridors without letting you out of his sight,” she turned to Marek, “tell me Libor, what has this girl done for you?”

“This is not about her. You think I don’t know you were seeing Karkarov on the sly? You think I don’t know that you threatened to turn him in to the Ministry? You think I don’t know that you’re the one who’s been trying to get to that imaginary room?”

“It’s real! She got in with the help of the bat she has as a friend. And now she’s going to tell me how.”

Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You knew?” The accusation was drowned out when the grip around her neck tightened. “She tried to kill Flavia! She practically couldn’t speak!”

“And who do you think stopped her from going to the hospital wing to finish the job, huh?”

“Enough.” Mer finished. She forced Kate to walk to the bridge wall and bent her over the stone. She stared straight into the eyes of the abyss; the fog prevented her from seeing the end, if the cliff had one, and she knew that if she didn’t act soon all that would be left of her would be her memory. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. You found the resurrection stone, where is it?”

“There was no stone!”

She felt the needle stick as if it had happened in slow motion. She brought her hand to her neck as Mer released her and managed to drop to the ground just before the barrage of spells between her and Marek reached her. If she was dizzy before, now she was convinced she was going to throw up.

She slid down the stone to the ground as her vision blurred. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, trying to maintain some control over her body. Spotting her wand near her, she awkwardly crawled towards it, avoiding a violet light that flew treacherously close to her.

She tried to get to her feet, but instantly collapsed again. The nausea was increasing, her vision was blurring more and more, her pulse was throbbing. She pushed her hair out of her face as best she could and rubbed her eyes, but she couldn’t quite focus on the dancing figures circling before her.

Corentin was waiting for her somewhere, probably by the door of her room to take her to a safer place. But she couldn’t reach him, not without the list.

Kate frantically searched for the paper somewhere on the bridge, hoping with all her might that the wind wouldn’t suddenly pick up. Moving her head like that did not help her condition, and the migraines she had been experiencing made their appearance to reinforce her misfortune.

Where were the cavalry? Why was no one from the castle coming to the rescue?

A bitter taste rose in her throat, forcing her to spit out some saliva, which to her horror was whitish.

No one would come to help her. She would have to save herself.

With what little energy she had left, she stumbled to her feet and took a few steps towards the other side of the bridge. The list was at her fingertips, but the world was spinning and twisting, and now both hands were trembling.

The moment her hand made contact with the paper, a spell exploded against the stone above her head. But she couldn’t back out now. She reached out and caught the parchment between her fingers. She pointed her wand at herself, still shaking, and felt the familiar tug in her stomach that would pull her out. Yankelevich looked with terrified eyes at what was about to happen and pointed her wand at Kate.

The green light of the unforgivable curse never grazed her.

Kate collapsed to the floor of the grimy Grimmauld Place street with a sob. Corentin had warned her about this; I recommend at least three jumps, the librarian had said.

Lying on the floor with her arms stretched out on her sides, she looked to her right; her eyes were full of tears and her arm full of blood.

I recommend at least three jumps.

She felt herself choked up again. This time, some foam adorned the corners of her lips, while trying to reach her wand with her left hand.

Three weary taps against the ground caused the building in front of her to awaken, revealing the door of the Black family home. Breathing was getting harder and harder, and with her ears increasingly clogged, Kate tried, to no avail, to stop her splinching from bleeding. Without dittany, it would be impossible.

She raised her wand towards the building with a groan. Unable to utter a word, she concentrated on firing several red lights into the windows. Some bounced off the walls and others off the glass, and she prayed it would be enough, for keeping her arm up was draining her strength.

As the convulsions became more violent, her hand fell to the floor with the rest of her body.

Attempting to keep her eyes open, she made out figures coming out of the house; one was a lanky, black blob she likened to a Dementor by the way his cloak moved; the other was much shorter and rounder with a hint of red hair. The rest of the people who rushed at her were indistinguishable.

Severus Snape forced her eyes open with his fingers, wearing a worried expression. Recognising him, Kate screamed, or at least she thought she did. The only sound that came out of her mouth was a painful sob.

“Darling, darling, look at me, it’s going to be alright,” Molly reassured. Kate wanted to shout that nothing was right, that she was in danger, that the man who was pouring the contents of a potion down her throat was a traitor.

The convulsions hadn’t stopped yet, but the unbearable burning in her arm did. She wanted to watch her wound heal, but Molly clutched her tear-soaked cheek preventing her from seeing the amount of blood that had gushed out from her arm.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.”

She choked on her saliva and Molly tilted her head to help her spit out the remnants of foam. Several conversations sprang up around her; all seemed distant, like an echo in a cavern.

When the shaking stopped, the relief was almost immediate. Snape forced her jaw open, emptying a vial into her mouth again. The commotion didn’t seem to end; several wizards and witches combed the street for any Muggle witnesses, and others were busy inspecting windows and doors.

Intense pain engulfed her head and mind. Attributing it to migraines, Kate missed the long, silver strand that shot from her temple in the direction of an unknown wand. She closed her eyes, and with one last deep breath everything went black.

[Part 17]

A/N: Oooooooooof I dont know how did you react to this I’m so nervous

Tag List: @eldritchscreech

@meteora-fc

@cazreadsstuff

@the-navistar-carol

@am-i-space

#charlie weasley #charlie x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley/mc #charlie weasley/ofc #kate williams #durmstrang

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (26)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

When you're a journalist, you have to know a lot of things. The most important thing in this business is neutrality of course. Even if the temptation to give his opinion is strong, a journalist must remain neutral in all circumstances. He must then have good source and good contact. A good source is even essential to get a good scoop. And having good contact in the field makes it easier. But if there is one thing a journalist must have... It's cold-blooded.

And luckily for Wilhelm, Danny has A LOT of composure. Oh, how many times did he dream of sticking anything in his skull? how many times did he dream of burning, drowning, skinning, dismembering him and what else do I know? Far too much to remember. and every time he dreamed of it; Danny took an indescribable pleasure in it. he would have liked to spend his day with you, not to move from the bed, your little body so fragile in his arms ... Unfortunately, you both work, and if the prospect of going to the police station does not enchant him basically, seeing Wilhelm's face early in the morning, did not help either. And as if that wasn't enough, Wilhelm was in a bad mood. Has he been in a good mood at least once in his life? There's a good chance he won't.

Luckily, Mattew and Melina were there. They're the only ones, with you of course, that Danny will never kill. It's rare to be off the Ghostface hunting board. You can thank God for your luck. But that doesn't mean he won't get revenge in bed. And that you will not escape, you can be sure. Wilhelm was chatting "calmly" with his officers while our trio of journalists sat down working a little further away.

“That's bullshit! There must be a connection between this story and McKellan's murder! They are accused of fraud on a national scale and coincidentally one of the suspects dies! And as luck would have it, Horace Hoggins threatens him three f***ing days before the murder!” said Wilhelm shouting and striking the table.

“Yes, but the modus operandi is too similar to Ghostface's. What if it was really him that he killed him? Or he hired him. But I can't see the "Ghost of Roseville" playing mercenaries.” Said one of the officers.

“Hoggins has money. He could hire any mentally ill person to do the job. After all, we don't know who we actually see in this city. Sometimes the most honest citizen can be the greatest criminal.” replied another one.

“And then reproduce the modus operandi of Ghostface is not very complicated if you have all the necessary equipment to leave no trace. And that, Hoggins can provide.” said the third one.

Danny bit his lips inwardly about it. Copying his modus operandi? not complicated? No criminal even thinks about going that far! Even the bloodiest, or the craziest, would have made a mistake! Danny is the mixture of the two, and yet you never suspect him because he never left any trace, you idiots! But he has to hold back... it was his plan to get Hoggins charged. He must stick to it, and remain calm.,

“Well, he needs to relax a little, inspector... He's going to end up having a heart attack. But hey I can understand, he wants to bring justice to Roseville.” said Melina.

“Yes, but in the meantime, the boss, he's very nice but he's not the one who has to face Wilhelm's nerve attacks... Why did it have to fall on us?” said Mattew, lying on the table.

“Simply because we published this article. Now we can't go back.” responds Danny by putting his glasses back on properly, while looking at his laptop. It was the one the boss gave him so he could store his work. He had a personal one but I do not draw you on what it contains ... You're smart enough to know that.

He looked at all the pictures he had taken in his job as a journalist and a big smile was on his face when he found something to incriminate Hoggins. It is true that he had spied on him at his home that day. And it's like a day or two before Hoggins threatened McKellan. It's perfect.

“Wilhelm. You should come and see this. Maybe I have something for you.” Said Danny.

“If it's to waste my time Olsen I swear I'll put you in jail in the second that comes. Then it's better for you that your find advances the investigation.” respond Wilhelm annoyed before advancing towards Danny.

“Oh, I'm sure you'll like what I have in front of me. When the "scandal" broke out, my boss asked me to take pictures of Hoggins. Spy on him if you prefer. And I remember that a few days before he threatened McKellan... Mr. Hoggins was with someone at his house.”

“... I should arrest you for violation of a private property Olsen... But these photos are important evidence. I would be curious to know what this man who was chatting with Hoggins that day will tell us... and given his face, this man is not a saint. it pisses me off to tell you that but... good job Olsen. Print me these photos so that we can add them to the evidence board.” Replied Wilhelm looking at the photo seriously before leaving the room to get some coffee.

Danny smiled inwardly in front of Wilhelm's face. it's so good to see this bastard feel compelled to thank Danny for helping him. Even if, in truth, Danny was directing him on a false trail. But in the end, everyone will win, Danny even more. Once again, he will escape all suspicion. And his pleasure will be even greater, when he announces to Wilhelm that Hoggins had nothing to do with the story in the end. It's going to ruin his career and that's all he deserves. And then... he will begin his descent into hell. Which will end sooner or later on Ghostface’s knife. Danny does not yet know what he will do to Wilhelm, but he is sure of one thing; He'll love to slaughter him. It doesn't matter how.

Wilhelm returned a few minutes later with his coffee and the photos Danny had printed in the meantime. He put down his coffee to hang the pictures on the board. Then took his cup back to sip coffee.

“Ok. Thanks to Olsen, I'm pissed off to say it, we know Hoggins was talking to this man a day or two before the threats. Which means that long before he threatened him, he was carrying out his plan. We have to find this man and question him! search our entire police registry. His head tells me something.” said Wilhelm.

“Yes Sir!” responds the three officers before leaving. Wilhelm, Danny, Mattew et Melina were now alone in the room.

“You still here? You don't have to do anything else?” replied Wilhelm, looking at the trio.

“Always so kind, we just gave you a boost in your investigation, I point out, you could be nicer at least.” said Mattew.

“You may have helped me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to sympathize with snoops. Olsen is already lucky that I don't arrest him to be entering on private property because he took the right pictures. So now you can go and do your snoops somewhere else! I'll call you when I have news. Get out of the way!”

“Ok, ok, we leave. See ya later, inspector.” said Melina before leaving the police station with Danny and Mattew. Once outside, she couldn't help but grumble. " What a dirty jerk. We help him move forward in the investigation and he treats us like that? Frankly next time, he's going to get fucked.”

“Forget it. We did our part, now it's up to them to do theirs. Anyway, he has to work with us until the end, so we're going to have to be patient. He will be happy to have solved this murder, and we will be free to avoid him... until Ghostface's next murder.” respond Danny calmly, even if in his mind, he wanted to slice Wilhelm's jugular.

“Yes, you're right. So, what do we do? Are we investigating on our side? Or are we going back to the paper?”

“Wilhelm doesn't have us at the right side, if we start snooping around a little too much in his investigation, you can be sure he's going to put us in the most disgusting cells in the prison.” Said Mattew worried.

“Mattew's right, we'd better not pissed off the inspector. Even if I feel like he doesn't need much at the base to piss him off. He said he'll let us know when he gets information, let's trust him, for once. I'm going home for my part. I need to work quietly right now.” Said Danny.

“Say instead, you want to see your sleeping beauty. How's she doing? It’s said that she recruits employees.” ask Melina.

“Yeah. I don't know what it turned out for; I don't think she's made up her mind yet. And then with Ghostface hanging around... she feels a little insecure. We plan to live together in the same apartment. Well, I'm on my way. Say hello to the boss for me! See you later!”

Danny got into his van and greeted his colleagues one last time. Once far enough away, a crooked smile appeared on his face. What a beautiful bunch of fools they all make. It's so easy to fool them... It becomes comical by force. They don't need much to believe anything. But as long as it served his interests... it doesn't mind him more than that.

He went home to work calmly as he had said. He still has articles to write. It's hard to be a journalist and a murderer at the same time, it's a very busy schedule, on both sides. He put down his glasses and rubbed his eyes to wake up a little. He then went to his office to admire his hunting board. A big smile was on his face, watching all those people who fell under his blade... And it wasn't over. He did not forget those he had killed in all the other cities... he wondered if he was still wanted there. And he was already thinking about his future victims. The ones he'll kill when he lives in another city. With you.

What to do tonight? go see you for the umpteenth time? certainly. He is tempted to go to see Wilhelm, to finally confront for the first time, Ghostface and the inspector who is stalking him. That would be great! That would be a huge provocation from him! but... you have to be clear-headed. Throwing yourself into the wolf's mouth after all this work... would be a pity to be captured or killed, so foolishly in addition.

“Don't worry Wilhelm... soon we will meet you and me... Ghostface and you should I say. I can't wait to see that day come, just to see your reaction. I'm sure it will be memorable. For now... I'm going to focus on my plan, to make you go crazy. And also... focus on my beautiful angel.” Danny said looking at your picture.

He knew how to play on both charts. Scare you and reassure you about himself at once... He didn't want a coward, but he still had to keep control of you, and if he has to scare you from time to time to remind you who's in charge... then he will. That won't change the fact that Jed will have to disappear. After all... it's just a name. A ridiculous character he invented to disguise himself in people's eyes. Danny Johnson is real compared to Jed. And you will have to accept it, one way or another.

He moved to his computer to work on his articles, which he was to return soon. He couldn't help but think about your idea of recruiting employees for your coffee. He didn't really like the idea, especially if there's a man among your future employees. He might be tempted to seduce you without worrying about the consequences. Let him try once... and he'll lose his hand. Or the leg. Or the head. It depends on Ghostface's level of anger.

He's going to have to watch your employees very closely. At least when you choose them. At the moment that’s not the case. Danny got up for coffee and went back to the office, taking a sip to keep writing. Occasionally he paused, to stretch a little and move, eat and take a shower to have a clear mind. When he writes, nothing can stop him. If he doesn't take a break himself to feed himself or whatever, he'd spend the whole day at his computer, typing his articles. He could have been an author, but he did not have the faith to write books that, over time, would lose meaning and logic, because of the stress and pressure that would set in and grow.

The last glimmers of the sun disappeared on the horizon, leaving the dark but starry sky of the night. Danny typed the last words of his article, before backing it up and getting up to stretch. Once again, he had done a good job. If Carla were still here... he was sure that she would have scolded him for having worked so much without resting. She used to do it when they were together in high school... she would have done so even today. And you would have done the same if you'd been there.

Danny reread the message you sent him during the day, so adorable that it made him smile, a sweet and sincere smile. He grabbed his Ghostface outfit before putting it on, looked in the mirror and smiled, before putting on the mask and leaving out by the window, like he does every night. You were brushing your teeth when Danny came into your house. He walked discreetly to the bathroom and looked at you from the door. You're so adorable in these pyjamas.

“You're brushing your teeth with a child toothpaste? How cute. Just like this outfit for that matter. Do you want me to make you a pretty braid like little girls?” He said, laughing when he saw you spit out the water you had in your mouth by surprise.

“Hahaha... I didn't know you had such a great sense of humor. Given what happened last time it's hard to guess...” You said ironically, pushing him away to get out of the bathroom.

“Oh, but I'm a very funny person when I want to. Hawn, are you still mad at me for that? But in what sense? Because I almost did it without your consent... Or because you wanted to and I held back?” he replied, smiling when he saw your angry face. “You don't have to give me that face, sweetheart. I'm not here to do it again, I told you: I'm going to make you languish. If I'm here, it's because I heard you were recruiting employees... I'm disappointed, I'd think you'd call on me.”

“Like I'm going to ask a lunatic like you. I want to keep my coffee shop open, not shut it up for murder. I guess you're proud of yourself right now, everyone's talking about your achievement on McKellan. You must have enjoyed slaughtering him like that.”

“Obviously! You should have seen that; he was screaming like a chicken and no one could hear him because this fool puts the music to an almost inhuman volume... It was perfect. I confess that to make deer antlers with his legs and arms, it took me a lot of patience and concentration but... The result is only magnificent. the inspector had to vomit his guts...”

“You're making me sick. Unfortunately for you, I don't plan on being alone for very long.” you replied with a smirk.

“Oh! Are you going to live with your little nerd? How cute. I feel sorry for you, he's just working, working and still working. While I... Well, I'd be more available.” Said Danny with a smirk.

“I fully respect his life choice. And I understand that. I would do anything to make sure he could work while taking care of himself. After what he's been through... he deserves to be looked after.”

“Everyone's been through something tragic, sweetheart. I'm one of them. And I'm going to make everyone pay for it. Until my last breath. And if someone hurts you... So there... I can't guarantee I'll leave him in one piece. I know that one day... You'll call on me for that. Everyone has a dark side to the bottom of their heart; it only takes one click to bring it out. Even the most beautiful angel can't escape it. I'm going to let you sleep... You've had a rough day. As for me, I still have work to do. Goodbye, sweetheart. Have a beautiful dream.

Danny sent you a kiss before disappearing out by the window like every night. He knows that one day you will ask him to kill someone who will hurt you. Or at least you'll make him understand. And on that day, he will be like a knight obeying his queen. Patience and composure are necessary.

It’s only a matter of time.

***

(This little stay at my friend's home made me feel good! I was able to clear my mind a little and now I'm on the attack for the next chapters to come! Don't hesitate to ask me questions or other, I'll be there to answer you! In the meantime, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #Ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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just-char · 3 years

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5. Can I request Percy's POV for the opening scene in Chapter 2 of Homeward, where Ramsey has dinner with Percy and Molly? Or would doing so spoil the dramatic effect of later on? The scene is so well-written I feel the other POV isn't needed to understand what's going on, but it would be fun to read nonetheless. :)

Good evening. A fantastic request! I am a very slow writer, but here is the scene in full in Percy's POV. You will notice it is nearly twice as long due to the wordy and rambling nature of Percy's existence (and hence, one of the reasons Homeward is from Ramsey's point of view) and also that it is very much unedited. It was fun to explore the conversation Percy has on the phone with her mother (during which I believe you will cringe several times at both of their lack of tact and general ineptness. ) It is sort of not canon as the phone call lasts a little bit longer than it does in the actual story, but I love Liz and Arthur too much to not have fun with them when I can. Story: Homeward Word Count: 4,045

Ramsey, Percy had noticed, was over for dinner more often recently. She did not mind this. Quite the opposite. She often struggled with portion sizes when cooking now that she had to cook for more than one person (somehow, simply doubling the amount she used to make never worked out like it mathematically should have) and there was always enough to feed him. He also made for good company for Molly, who Percy suspected, despite how quiet she could be around others, loved having him over for the noise and excitement he brought to the usually quiet apartment. It was important for her to have good adult role models, and the imperfect Ramsey who was trying to make up for his difficult past was, in her opinion, a much better fit than the rambunctious Giovanni, whose moral code was vague at best and dangerous at worst. Also, admittedly, she simply liked him around, which was probably reason enough. So, no, she most certainly didn’t mind that he came over more often and would stay for dinner. It was something friends did, she was sure. Well, she was almost sure.

Today, he especially had a good reason to come over. Molly’s bedroom had been irking her lately. Percy was perfectly capable of painting walls– in fact, she was excellent at painting walls– but she was not an artist, and it was a strict difference. Although she could quite easily and quite neatly paint a green coat, or even perhaps some sort of dual coloured coat, given the proper masking tape, she could not paint bears. Molly’s old bedroom, she had noticed the only time she’d been in it, had bears on the wall. Teddy bears, specifically. And given that Molly was nearing adolescence, Percy wanted to take full advantage of the age where she would still enjoy such frivolous things and recreate them. Ramsey was also very idle, she found. When he was not working, he was drawing or sleeping from what she could gather (the latter much more so than the former) and it seemed to be putting a ‘dampener’ on his mood. Paying him to paint Molly’s bedroom (with her assistance, of course) seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Not that she would ever hurt a bird, of course. Well, not unless it was a dangerous individual that had to be taken care of. Perhaps she wouldn’t think about it anymore.

The spaghetti was a little salty. She hoped neither of them minded. It sort of reminded her of buttered noodles, which she mostly knew as a childhood treat (emphasis on treat, they were certainly not good for her) and as such she didn’t dislike the taste, but still. “Thanks again for painting my room, Mr Murdoch.” As Percy scrutinized her plate, Molly had taken to thanking Ramsey for his work. She was a very polite young girl. Very admirable. It was incredible how well-raised she was, all things considered, but Percy thought that simply spoke to how wonderful Molly was, and was not reflective of anything her father did for her.

Ramsey waved her gratitude off humbly. “Eh, it wasn’t nothing. S’nice to get out of the old apartment anyway.”

Percy chose to ignore his double negative. It was confusing, but he did it a lot and she’d managed to get used to it. She did not understand why he found it difficult to accept thanks, however. She quickly patted her mouth with her napkin (dinner etiquette was very important) so she could show her shared appreciation. “Whether it was nothing or not, we appreciate your effort.” Of course, she knew it probably was nothing to him. After all, he was an artist of very high caliber. But that didn’t change the fact he had put time and energy into doing it.

Instead of accepting her thanks, once more Ramsey chose to deflect, pointing his fork at her. “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you couldn’t do it yourself.” Before Percy could debate this, however, Ramsey decided to go for two blows. He leaned in towards Molly, “Percy can’t draw for snacks,” and Molly found this funny enough. Percy watched them with interest, and then they turned and watched her with interest. Ah. Right. She was supposed to respond to that with something equally clever yet jocund, as was expected. “It’s true, I am no artist. However, I am also not a con-artist.” She didn’t quite understand what was so funny about two people mocking each other repeatedly, but Molly seemed to find it humorous and it was all very lighthearted so she decidedly went along with it (though she found her own wit was much better suited for one-line statements than battles of insults.)

Molly gasped and covered her mouth. Presumably, this was jokingly. Percy doubted what she said was all that bad. “She’s got you there, Mr Murdoch. Are you just gonna take that?”

Ramsey seemed pleased with himself. “Oh, was that supposed to be a burn?” He took a moment to think, “Heh, well, I may be a criminal, but at least I’m not a nerd.” Molly made noises with her mouth that Percy couldn’t quite decipher as she frowned. She never quite understood the word as an insult, after all, “There is nothing laughable about being well-educated.”

Ramsey apparently took her defensive statement as his victory. “Oh, I see,” he said casually, “So you can give it, but ya can’t take it, huh?”

“I can take you back to prison, Ramsey,” Percy blurted out. Oh. She had not even thought about it before saying it. Ramsey seemed equally surprised, coughing on the spaghetti in his mouth as Molly laughed. Admittedly, it felt good to be in on the joke. She smiled at him to clarify no ill will and he looked bashfully back down at his plate. She took it that this meant she had won, for once. Excellent.

Suddenly, Ramsey recovered from his defeat and looked up. “You excited to go to Marchpoint for Christmas, Molly?”

Molly beamed. “Sure! Marchpoint is really pretty, and Percy’s parents are really nice.” It was reassuring to know that Molly truly did enjoy visiting them– her parents had… overwhelming and very different reactions to the prospect of her adopting a child, and for a little bit Percy was very worried that they would make Molly uncomfortable, or perhaps regardless Molly simply wouldn’t like them. Alas, it worked out the complete opposite. Percy hesitated to use the word ‘obsessed’, but her parents were most certainly passionate in their approach to Molly in a way she wasn’t expecting. Well, her father she should have expected, but her mother? It really did go to show how the people you love can always surprise you.

Ramsey, meanwhile, seemed content to speculate about her hometown’s nature. “Heh, sounds like one a those little fancy holiday towns.” Admittedly, he was not entirely wrong. He had good sense about those kinds of things, Percy supposed. “Marchpoint,” he repeated, scratching his goatee. Very idly, Percy wondered what it felt like.

“It’s pretty fancy! Percy’s parents live in one of those big country homes with a porch and huge backyard, and all the little town shops look like they’re from the sixties. It’s so much quieter than the city.” She could not grow a beard herself, but she remembered how her father’s felt whenever he shaved it. Textured, bristly. Ramsey’s face fell. “What’d I do? I got something on me?” He looked down at his shirt to check. Hm. Apparently, she had been staring. And also not listening, as she couldn’t seem to remember what it was they had been talking about. She decidedly corrected both of those ‘faux pas’s.

“My apologies. I was…” She did not want him to feel self-conscious, “... lost in thought. What were we speaking about?”

Ramsey smiled at her cheekily. “Talkin’ about your fancy pants hometown, Sparky.”

“Ah, yes.” How could she have forgotten? “Marchpoint certainly has its charms. However, I prefer to be in the city where I am needed.” She frowned, thinking about just how useless she’d be somewhere so quiet. “Indeed, such a sleepy town has no need for my unforgiving sense of justice.”

Molly lifted some spaghetti in her fork. “It’s nice for the holidays though!”

“Justice doesn’t take holidays,” Percy reminded her seriously.

“Alright, Judge Judy, let’s not bring work to the table,” Ramsey scolded her. Percy wasn’t quite sure who Judge Judy was, but she had to admit he was right. She went back to eating her spaghetti.

Molly looked at him. “What’re you doing for the holidays, Mr Murdoch?”

Ramsey, from what Percy could tell, was not expecting to be asked this question. Percy realized she wasn’t sure what he was doing herself. “Me? Uh, nothin’, kid.” Had she never asked him? Ah. Shoot. She hadn’t. She’d try to remember to do that next year. “My family’s too far away and small to bother visiting every year. I like to keep it to myself.” Percy couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t do the same if Marchpoint was further away, but it surprised her that Ramsey, given his sensitive nature, would feel similarly.

“How practical!”

Molly did not seem as pleased with this as she was. “That’s sad, Mr Murdoch. Don’t you want to be around people during the holidays?”

Hm. Molly offered an interesting point. Ramsey was prone to bouts of loneliness. She watched him carefully as he attempted to shrug off the question. “Nah, I’m good. Not too into heavily commercialised stuff. Just another day off to me.” Percy was always the best with conversations but she was certainly familiar with interrogations and she liked to think she knew a lie when she saw one. Such a lackadaisy approach to such an important time seemed so unlike him.

“While I usually like to respect the wishes of others, I would not like to think of you spending this time alone, Ramsey. The holidays are a chance to reconnect and spend time with the people you love and care about. They are not, as you say, just ‘another day off.’”

Ramsey frowned at her, but Molly spoke first. “You should come with us to Marchpoint! I’m sure no one would mind.” Hm. Huh. Percy blinked. And then she blinked again, because for some reason the first blink hadn’t cleared her mind. She could feel her eyebrows furrowing as her brain went over the statement. Ramsey. At her family home. Staying with them. For the holidays. In Marchpoint. With her parents. She couldn’t even picture it. Molly’s quiet voice broke her out of her stupor. “Uhm, would that be okay, Percy?”

Percy gave blinking one last try to see if it would work. She’d have to give an answer– that was how questions worked. One person asks a question and the other answers, unless the question is rhetorical or sarcastic, something that was clarified by tone indicators. Molly’s question was neither, so she had to answer it. Would it be okay? Well, she’d have to ask her mother. Yes. That was the answer. She’d have to ask. “I’d have to call Mother,” she said, and then quickly to reassure them both, “But I don’t see why not.” Smile. Yes. That was a good idea– smiling made people more comfortable. She was nailing this.

Ramsey seemed upset. She was not nailing this. “Look, I don’t wanna be burdenin’ a buncha strangers all out of pity–” Well, that was simply ridiculous. “Ramsey,” she interrupted him, “would you like to come?” She waited expectantly.

He stared back at her. “I guess. I mean, if the food’s free.” A jest, she assumed, based on the wink. “But I don’t wanna come if I’m just gonna be in the way is all.” Hm. Well, she wouldn’t force him if he believed he would be out of place.

“I understand, Mr Murdoch,” Molly reassured him quietly, “I just thought it’d be nice to have another person I’m really comfortable around going to meet so many new people… But if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” She smiled at him. Hm. Percy hadn’t even thought about that. Molly was quite shy, and while her family wasn’t large by any means, they were quite loud, even for Percy sometimes.

Ramsey put both of his hands up as though he was showing he had no weapons. “Alright, alright! I’ll come if I’m able, just stop lookin’ at me with those big ole puppy dog eyes. Geez, I can’t stand it.” Oh, that was good. Ack, but it was so soon– she’d call her mother now, just in case. Her mother wasn’t fond of late changes to plans. Percy pulled her phone out of her pocket. If only they’d come up with this last week.

“Excuse me,” she said as she stood up, not wishing to neglect her table manners. The phone stopped ringing and her mother’s voice replaced the sound.

“Hello?”

“Hello, mother.” Percy looked over to the door to the hall. Perhaps this was a conversation best had in private.

“Hello, Percival.” Her mother paused. “Lovely evening.”

As Percy made her way to the hall she glanced out the window. The sky was clear. “Why, yes, it is a lovely evening.” There was a small pause as Percy closed the door behind her and walked to her bedroom. She didn’t particularly like phone calls. Well, she didn’t hate them, but she most certainly found them more difficult than a simple face-to-face conversation or a quick text.

“Why are you calling during dinner?” her mother asked gruffy.

Oh, had she been waiting for her to speak? See, if they had been face-to-face, that would have been more obvious. “Ah, yes. About Molly and I staying over–”

“What, you’re not coming anymore?”

Percy glanced at the phone in surprise. “What?”

“Is that Percy? Is she not coming?” she heard her father say in the background. Oh, dear.

“Arthur, I’m on the phone,” her mother snapped at him.

Her father did not seem to notice. “If it’s Percy, tell her I said hello, and that I’d be very disappointed if she and Molly weren’t coming up!” “Yeah, yeah.” There was a sigh. “He says hello. And that you better be coming up. ”

Percy nodded as though they could see her. “We’re still coming.” “They’re still coming, Arthur,” It sounded as though her mother had covered the mic, and then like she had taken her hand off of it again. “Okay, so then, what are you calling for?”

Percy idly placed her hand on the cool frame of her bed. “It’s just, well, I have this friend–” “You do?” She sounded surprised. Had Percy never mentioned Ramsey to her before?

“Yes.” No, she hadn’t, she realised. Odd.

“Alright, well, what about this friend?”

“He–”

“He doesn’t need money, does he?”

“What? Uhm, no, mother. He doesn’t need…” Percy paused, “Well, I don’t believe he needs money. I suppose he could.” It was certainly possible. Ramsey had obviously gotten in with bad crowds before and old habits did not die easy. It was entirely in the realm of plausibility that he had gone out and gotten into money trouble– or, alternatively, an old mistake had come back to haunt him despite his current good nature.

“Well, did he ask you for money?”

“Hm?” She’d almost forgotten she was on the phone. “Oh, no. No, he didn’t.”

“Good. None of your business then.” Ah, her mother was correct. It was rude of her to speculate like that.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“... Percival.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you calling me.”

“Oh, right.” She almost forgot what she’d called about. Her mother had that effect on people. “Yes. Well, this friend–” “Oh! Ask her if it’s Ramsey.” Ah. Her father again.

Her mother sounded mostly confused, and a little irritated. “Who?”

“Ramsey! Her friend, is it Ramsey?” Percy found herself rubbing the frame. Smooth, glossy wood. It felt nice.

“For god’s sake– Percival, your father wants to know if it’s... Ramsey.”

“Ah, tell him yes, it is.” “It is.” The mic muffled again. “Oh! Is he alright?” “Arthur, getting this conversation to end is like trying to get blood out of a rock and you’re making it harder–” “Alright, alright! Don’t raise your voice, Liz.” Her mother audibly groaned. “Did you at least tell her I said hello?” “I already told her! Just be quiet and eat your roast beef, you big lug.” A pause. “Are you still there Percival?” “Yes.”

“Alright. Tell you what, because my dinner is getting cold and this phone call is driving me to the edge. You have three sentences to tell me what’s wrong or I’m hanging up. Go.”

“Oh, er. Well–” “That was one. You have two now.”

Shoot. Percy took a moment to think about the clearest and most direct two sentences possible. “My friend Ramsey has nowhere to go for the holidays,” she said slowly, “Could he stay with us?”

“Oh, is that it?” Percy wasn’t the best judge of tone but her mother almost sounded disappointed. There was another pause, slightly longer than any of the ones before, as though she was taking this information in. “Hm,” she said finally, “He from the streets?” Percy thought of Ramsey’s little apartment. “No.” “He dangerous? Violent? Crazy?” “No.” Ramsey wasn’t any of those things even when he was a criminal. She’d begin to make her way back to the kitchen, given that the conversation was nearing it’s close.

“Drat. Well, whatever. Sure, sure. He can come.”

Percy opened the door to the hall and closed it behind her. “Thank you,” she said quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, well. I’m not a fiend, Percival. Besides, house won’t be full anyway. You know your uncle isn’t coming up this year, don’t you?” She walked into the kitchen, where Ramsey and Molly still sat at the table.

“Yes. I know.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Son finally decides to come home and then it’s all about staying local after coming up the twenty-five years– s’not like we don’t have room for his brat either. That uncle of yours is a strange man.”

“Indeed.”

“Anyway. Get lost so I can eat.” There was a slight pause. “Love ya.” Percy smiled pleasantly. “Goodbye.”

The phone clicked. Her mother had hung up. She glanced up to her company (she hadn’t realized it, but apparently she had been staring at the floor the whole time) and they stared back at her eagerly.

Molly leaned forward. “What’d she say?” Their plates were empty– they must’ve finished eating.

Percy hummed, trying to replay the conversation. “Well, first she said ‘Hello.’ Then, ‘It’s a lovely evening.’ Then, ‘Why are you calling during dinner?’ Then–”

“I think she meant, what’s the verdict, chief?” Ramsey said quickly. He looked very pink. “Er, am I coming or going?”

Ah, there he went again with his nonsensical word choice. Percy rubbed her chin. “Both options you’ve given me suggest you are allowed. Which do I pick if you’re not?”

Molly groaned. “Percy...”

“My apologies.” Perhaps she was poking too much fun. “You may come, Ramsey.” He seemed appropriately relieved.

“Yes!” Molly exclaimed, and then, in a fit of excitement that was completely unexpected, jumped up to embrace her. Percy could not hide her surprise as her small arms squeezed her. Still, she smiled, wrapping one arm around her ward and using the other to give her a small pat on the head. “Thanks Percy.” The sound rippled through her shirt. It felt very nice.

“Of course.” Hm. What time was it? Molly always did her homework at eight. Percy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Do you have homework to do?”

“Ack!” Molly suddenly let go and raced to her room. Percy watched her go. She was a very kind child. It was lovely how much she cared for Ramsey. It only just occurred to her that perhaps Molly was not entirely selfish in her want for him to be there. Percy just felt privileged to know her, sometimes. It felt silly, given Molly’s age, but it was true.

Speaking of Ramsey, he stood up from the table and Percy looked over to him. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Perc’,” he said softly, “You really didn’t have to.”

Percy smiled at him. He was very sweet for a reformed criminal. She could appreciate that this was probably very difficult for him. Ah, she should reassure him of his use. “I think your presence will be good for her. It can be quite overwhelming meeting new people, especially for children.”

He simply shrugged. “Eh, maybe.” He glanced towards the door to the hall and back at her. “I guess I’d better get going.”

It was always a shame to see him go, but he had his own business to get to. Expecting him to stay forever would be selfish and immature, and Percy was neither of these things when she could fight it. “Of course. Thank you for joining us, Ramsey. It’s always a pleasure.” She started collecting the plates from dinner. She’d wash them now. She didn’t like leaving dishes in the sink.

Ramsey did not leave. Instead, he took the plates from her hands and grinned at her. “Heh, yeah, well, that’s me. I’m pretty great company,” he said as he brought them to the sink. He smirked then, putting a finger to his cheek. “And I’m pretty too.”

While he did that, she made her way to the drawer to get her rubber gloves. Her aunt always said washing dishes without them made your hands dry, though, if Percy were being honest, she never really thought about why she wore them. Habit.

“Very,” she said to entertain him. “Thank you very much for your assistance.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” Percy blinked and looked over at him. He wiggled his eyebrows (provocatively?) Hm.

She looked away, clearing her throat and pulling on her gloves. “How is the apartment treating you, Ramsey?” She turned the tap to run the warm water. As Ramsey spoke, she grabbed the washing up liquid.

He was leaning against the counter. “Fine. Kinda small.” He shrugged at her. “I like the TV. Free cable.”

Percy smiled, procuring a sponge from a dish beside the sink. “I’m glad it’s to your liking. Perhaps if you keep working hard, you will be able to move somewhere bigger.” She started cleaning the dishes. Pasta luckily did not stain, and it did not take long to clean three plates. When she got to the last one, she glanced over at him again. He was… still not leaving. How did she approach that? On one hand, she didn’t want him to feel like he had to leave, because he did not. On the other, she couldn’t simply say nothing, either. After all, he’d said he was leaving. Perhaps he wanted to talk to her about something? She rinsed the plate off and stuck it in the drying rack with the others. Ramsey glanced at her and she cleared her throat. “Well,” she started, “There is no point prolonging the inevitable.”

He pushed off the counter. “Yeah. Thanks again for dinner, and, uh,” he coughed, “Bringing me along for the holidays.” Percy smiled at him.

“Goodbye, Ramsey. Until tomorrow.” She turned back to the sink and began taking off her gloves, but he didn’t leave. Should she say something? Maybe he truly wasn’t alright. “Are you not leaving?” Ah, now that she said it, perhaps that was a little blunt.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was just, uh..." he looked at her desperately but she did not know what to say. "Right, uh, seeya.” He gave her a little wave and she returned it, but as he left Percy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for her lacking approach. She should’ve asked if he was okay, maybe even if he wanted to stay a little longer, talk about something. She knew he didn’t particularly like being alone– perhaps going home was hard for him? Ah. Friendship was difficult and unfamiliar territory. She knew he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve been, but she didn’t want to freak him out by pushing him too hard.

Well. One thing at a time.

#Homeward #Scene request tag

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

The Neighbors Son

You meet your new neighbors son.

Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, Mature-ish, angst

A/n: so this is the start of my Clark Kent Imagine series that will sort of run alongside my Bruce Wayne ones, I re-wrote this about eight times so hope you like the final result as for the health insurance I'm British so have no idea how it works I just went along the lines of how car insurance works here.

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81

The Neighbors Son

Martha chuckled as you sat at her kitchen table grumbling over the papers in front of you.

"You do you lot have to do things so weird?! What the hell is this shit ?And what the fuck does that word even mean. Its not a word that's the fucking alphabet in the wrong order! THEY MADE UP NEW WORDS Martha can you take me out back and shoot me please? At this point I think that's my only option" You grunted resting your head on the table. Martha sighed rolling her eyes at your dramatic display you felt her slip the paper from underneath your head.

"Just whats gotten you so work up now girl..... Health insurance? Well its about damn time! You've been here four months .....I can see why this can seem difficult." She scanned the documents and slapped the side of your head making you sit up.

"Come on up, right this one is the best value but doesn't cover dental or opticians, so you have to pay for them, but it covers illness and emergancey care, if you choose the next one up you’ll get that and it also covers for maternity care." She pointed out the different options, you knew that you’d been lucky in England to have the nhs but until now you didn't know just how lucky.

"Can I upgrade? Like at a later date if I wanna have a one?" The older woman scanned the documents.

"Yes but you wont be able to claim anything for prenatal or maternity for at least six months after adding it to the policy." You nodded you didn't really see yourself accidentally falling pregnant for that you'd need to have sex and you've been on a dry spell since being here. You nodded taking the paper from her."So I will just do that then" you said wanting it over and done with she sighed at you crossing her arms giving you 'the look' that every woman got when she became a mother."How many have you looked at?" You shrunk under her stern gaze and rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

"Errr so far? In total? One" she sighed shaking her head at you, before pouring you both another coffee setting it in front of you,she hadn't realized how lonley she had been once the farm house across the field had been empty not until you had moved in, all the way from England you had bought the house with your inheritance selling most of the fields to others in the area just keeping a small two acres around the house for yourself. She had met you the day you moved in coming over to introduce herself see if you needed help, you both instantly hit it off and it wasn't long before she was looking out for you. It was hard for you to adjust to life here, loosing your dad was bad but she then found out that your mother had caused major problems practically chasing you out of the country, the woman had been unhappy with the will and wanted her 'half' tho it wasn't millions it was enough for you to live comfortably in the end you'd had to move as she kept coming around to the house causing problems and harassing you for money, you'd had to get away far away so settled in Kansas. It was different but a welcome change, slower and laid back sure sometimes you missed not being in the Hustle and bustle but you had everything you need, a comfy house ,decent car and an income from your books, you was an author writing adult books, tales of gorgeous cowboys, dominant business men and mafia king pin's all falling in love with the women of their dreams with erotic twists and scenes that would make a porn star blush. Martha had been a huge help since you got here ,she had taken you under her wing watching over you and you'd become fast friends, always finding yourselves at each others houses helping each other out. You groaned as she shook her head at you knowing the look. There was a lecture coming.

"That’s just silly, you should look around compare prices and policies, it could save you a lot of money in the long run, especially you i mean your a trouble magnet how you haven't already ended up in ER I don't know?" You smiled sweetly at her

"Because a have a kind and loving neighbor to patch me up" you said casting a look to the scar on your arm where she had sewed you up after a nasty fall on some farming equipment in the barn. She huffed at you rolling her eyes kids. And you was a kid only twenty seven years old younger then her Clark, sometimes she asked you why you don't go into town and meet some people your age you'd always cringe and shiver saying that they were to immature or just banged on about marriage and kids, which neither interested you in the slightest you were quite happy with things the way they were. Martha looked up as the dog perked up outside whining and yipping happily before she heard him

"Ma? You here?" She smiled as he entered the house wrapping her up in his arms she hugged him back.

"Clark? What are you doing here?" She pulled back a little seeing him upset she cupped his face.

"Oh god whats wrong? Is everything okay? Whats happened?"

"Its Lois...we had an argument I had to leave her Ma, its over she couldn't see past the super-" Martha quickly shushed him as You stood awkwardly thinking it better to leave not wanting to intrude. The man snapped his head in your direction releasing his mum and you were floored he was stunning, sure she had showed you photos of her son but they didn't do any justice. Tall broad and strong his biceps were fucking huge his chest tapered into a perfect v, dark hair hanging in messy curls atop his head some falling forward just skimming his eyes that were a glistening bright blue you felt your pussy clench violently. Fuck. You was so lost that you failed to notice him staring right back at you it was Martha clearing her throat that snapped you both out of what ever trance you'd both been put you under.

"Cheers for the coffee but I should get back and leave two to catch up, anyway this next chapter isn't gonna write itself..... at this point I don't think I’m gonna write it either." You said with a chuckle Martha turned to you putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh no you don't, your going park you butt right there and stay here to search other quotes" you gaped at her looking to her son he held up his hands staying out of it.

"Don't you go looking to him,he wont help you" you huffed crossing your arms

"Did you just give me homework? It sounds like you gave me home work." She nodded

"Damn right, health insurance is a big deal and you don't just pick the first one that pop's up on the internet" you pouted at her trying to change her mind she just stared you down tilting her head then you threw your hands up.

"Oh for fuck sake, fine I will look Jesus Christ" she nodded smiling not missing the way you and Clark was stealing glances at one another, well you stole glances Clark was out right staring. She slapped him upside the head.

"Don’t be rude son introduce yourself" he stuttered shyly flushing at being scolded before holding out a hand towards you quickly.

"Er Clark Kent nice to meet you Mrs?" You took his hand not surprised by how warm it was I mean this guy was hot, it only made sense right?.

"Miss Y/n Y/L/N but just call me Y/n everyone does....apart from your mum she calls me 'a pain in the ass'" he chuckled

"Then we already have something in common" you laughed as Martha motioned for you both to sit at the table smiling knowingly, she saw how Clark couldn't look away how the sorrow in his eyes disappeared as he looked at you. Clark couldn't tear his eyes away from you he gulped eyes raking over your form his mouth gone dry speechless. Wow. You was very attractive like you walked out of one of his fantasies, a tiny homely looking girl light tan with deep chocolate wavy hair in a short bob twisted in a half up do, tiny bun in the back with a few loose strands framing your small face that had a dusting of freckles from being out in the sun, tho he guessed that some were more permanent as they didn'tstop on your face trailing down into you blouse, his breathing hitched as his eyes couldn't help peeking seeing the tops of you breasts spilling over the cups of your bra as you slouched over the table barely resting your elbow on it due to how small you was. His cock twitched you were very tiny the top of your head didn't even reach the top of his chest, he estimated you to be around four foot nine maybe four foot ten he grunted a little, he did have a thing for smaller women, he loved that he towered over average sized women but you were like his dream girl,fuck if he didn't want to fold you in half and fuck you senseless. His pants tightened at the thought, he bet you'd struggle to take him but given the chance he would find a way to impale you forcing your little body to take every punishing inch he grunted a quietly his stomach clenching. He quickly pulled his eyes away before either you would notice trying to calm his slightly ragged breaths this wasn't like him at all, he had been raised a gentleman but sitting here he felt anything but. Drawing his eyes up to yours. Incredible, he got many compliments for his eye but yours were something else, one a light brown honey colour the other was the brightest green he had ever seen, like someone had captured an emerald with in it, he swallowed dryly again becoming hot under the collar twitching in his pants as he continued to assess you. He wasn't sure what you was doing in his Mothers house but he had no complaints whatsoever.

"S-so Y/n your not from around here." his voice cracked a little as he spoke you shook your head at him a little uncomfortable as Martha pottered about the kitchen busying herself with making a fresh pot of coffee, you moved to help her but she just shook her head at you.

"No I moved here four months ago from England, your mum has been helping me get settled, America is a lot weirder than I had initially thought" you giggled a little nervously crossing your legs trying to fight off the building tension between your thighs, it wasn't every day you sat across for a delicious looking male, already picturing him as the main character in your next book with the amount of fantasies you were sure to come you'd probably have enough material for a whole series. He grit his teeth a little as his cock jumped at the melodious sound of your voice and thick southern British accent, he wouldn't admit but your voice had now become his favorite sound of all, imagining just how high he could get it if you ever gave him a chance.

"Wow that’s pretty far, and you chose Smallville why not one of the big cities?" He asked as Martha walked across the kitchen washing up some dishes in the sink, you frowned she never did that when you was here, she was up to something.

"Well Gotham didn't look to promising and I couldn't find anything in metropolis, I didn't have much time to move and when I saw the farm house I thought why not and bought it now I'm just across the field from your mum. I might get a small place in the city at some point but right now I'm quite happy here"

"You haven't even been to metropolis yet and your already thinking of buying a place there? shouldn't you check it out first? Maybe you could show her around when she does visit Clark? Take her to see the sights she'd like that? Wouldn't you y/n?" Your jaw sort of hung open....was she trying to set you up with her son? You chuckled nervously seeing the smirk on the other woman face.

"Oh Martha he's probably busy-"

"No! No I'm not, I'm not busy at all!.....I-I mean sure I could to show you around." He interrupted you then flushed, Martha shook her head the boy wouldn't know sublty if it bit him on the ass. You blushed sipping more of your coffee.

"Well if your sure... but I need to finish my book I've already postponed the release date once, don't think the publisher will like another one" he smiled as his mother set down a cup and fresh coffee pot he refilled everyone's cups as she took a seat at the head of the table sitting back watching you both fumble around your words blushing and stuttering, there was definitely something going on here and she was a little smug and had a feeling she was going to enjoy this next bit.

"Your a writer? What do you write?" You blushed bright at his question. Oh shit.

"Haha Yeah, well I sort of write books, fiction"

"I don't think I've heard of you tho?" you looked down going beet red your pussy dampening your panties at the idea of him lying back in his bed reading one of your raunchy books.

"I use an alias so I don't get any backlash" he looked a little surprised but it wasn't uncommon even some journalists did this mostly if the do honest reviews of shops and services

"Oh so what type of fiction do you write children's books?" You flushed more at his innocence looking to Martha who was snickering quietly to herself. She was going to be no help here whatsoever.

"No..Not children's books...My stuff is more...Mature" you desperately looked to Martha eyes screaming. Help me!. poor Clark tilted his head a little not understanding why you seemed to be getting so embarrassed

"Oh for teens then?" his mother finally cracked up laughing out right at the face you pulled at him deciding to put an end to to sorry affair, it was painful to watch.

"Oh for god-She writes porn Clark! Erotica, Adult fantasies" Clark spat his coffee not ready for that at all, coughing and spluttering,you got up quickly just dodging the drink sprayed in your direction.

"MARTHA!..Oh shit are you okay big guy?" Patting to poor mans back as Martha sat there sipping her coffee smirking into her cup.

"What? Like I'm wrong? we'd be here all day if I'd let that pan out" You flushed at her words as he finally caught his breath before you sat back down and sunk in your seat mortified she just came out and said it.

"Ah okay then wow I didn't expect that....I mean you look so cute...Not that I don't think you can be sexy and cute cos you are shit I mean er what do I mean?...Its just not what I'd have thought you'd write....But there's nothing wrong with that, I imagine its quite hard NO!no not hard...Not that its easy that's not what I meant just that it would be hard-Difficult! difficult it would be difficult to write." Martha laughed out loud having the time of her life as you both flushed bright red, Clark was trying to talk himself out of his own embarrassment, you on the other hand just Blinked at him as he had a melt down so red he looked like his head was going to pop, finally taking pity on him you interrupted his babbling.

"Its okay...I get what you mean...Sometimes its... Difficult but you just you know keep at it..." Martha smiled oh yes you two definitely liked each other, now if only she could find a way to set you up together. An awkward silence fell over the kitchen as you fiddled with your cup a little and Clark trying to look anywhere but you failing miserably, she decided to have some mercy and change the subject and let you know that he was available all at once.

"So you and Lois are over for good this time?" You leaned back in your seat watching his face drop you couldn't help feel sorry for him.

"Yeah, she just kept pushing, wanting me to be someone I'm not, to play that part all the time I'm sick of it! it started got to the point I no longer had any choice, I'd do what ever for a quiet life even if it made me unhappy" Martha sighed at him she had seen this coming for a long time but had to step back and let him figure it out for himself.

"Clark I'm sorry things didn't work out I really am but she would never be satisfied until everything went her way you knew that"he nodded solemnly sighing you could tell who ever this Lois was had meant the world to him.

"I think I knew deep down she wasn't the one, I just thought if I carried on, if I stuck with it she would see how it was effecting me and change just a little for my sake. Just like I did for her you know?"

"She was never going to son, in her eyes you had become what she wanted so she didn't have to change at all but she forgot the most important thing in a relationship that's its give and take she forgot to be what you needed" Martha held his hand he sighed looking at her nodding.

"Well this happened just over three weeks ago and she is still carrying on like we are together, like nothings changed! showing up at my apartment when she feels like it and throwing a fit when i don't let her in and is telling everyone I'm her date to this party now I'm stuck, I don't want to go with her but if I go alone then she's going corner me." he sounded exhausted and fed up and slightly bitter towards this woman and with good reason you knew how this type of thing could were on someone, you'd seen it first hand growing up.

"Party? what Party?" he waved his hand at his Mothers question

"A staff party celebrating another award and I don't want to go alone, if I do I know I will end up going back to her I really don't want to. So need to find someone else but there is no one shes still letting everyone think we're together! and none of them want to be on her bad side. I just need a woman to pretend to be my girlfriend for one night"

"Now Clark that's not fair on whoever you take, your a handsome boy and anyone you take might really like you it could crush them if they find out your using them. You can't use one women to prove a point to your ex it isnt right your father and I raised you better then that." You interrupted before she could lay into him anymore.

"I can understand what he is getting at tho, sorry to interrupt and if I'm being out of line tell me, but she sounds like my Mother, relationships are give and take, you can't just take and take and expect your other half to put up with it, Clark if you need someone to go with you to make it clear your finished with her I will go with you, no strings attached or hard feelings but women who think everything should revolve and change around them and their needs really fucks me off!! especially when they pull that shit on a sweet genuine person, in the end these women just destroy the men their with. I don't know you very well but Martha raised you so you can't be that bad and that's enough for me." You hissed some of the words it was like your parents all over again. Your mother was spoilt and selfish always demanding that your father change the way he was for her, you had watched as he had given up everything for her but it was never enough, he had to play a part and it ate away at him for years sending him into a deep depression, yet she never did anything in return or tried to help him. In the end, you at seven years old had found him trying to commit suicide. The thought of you being the one to find his body was what broke the camel's back he threw her out the next day then tried divorcing her but she wouldn't sign the papers so instead they remained separated she had nothing so you was left in your dads care, he was happier then ever but the damage had been done he never found anyone else, she hung around every few months trying to weasel her way back in missing the money more than her family, when she didn't get her way she tried to destroy any happiness he found. Luckily he had sense enough to rewrite his will and piddle away the money in the account he had left to her his final fuck you to her was when the executor of the will read out that you was left with the car, house and just over seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds the housekeeper Susanna was left the holiday home in Devon and forty thousand pounds and your mother well she got twenty nine pound sixty seven pence and was aloud to have the expensive china that the Susanna had been instructed to smash after his passing....Yeah your dad was a bastard but it was funny as fuck. That’s why you had to leave she kept coming to the house harassing you for money. The restraining order hadn't worked so you decided to move you had the means to do it so went for it, she would never find you here and couldn't use the fact shes your mother to find you because you wasn't a minor the cherry on top the account that your dad was leaving for your mother was what he used to pay for your college and university. Martha sighed knowing why you got so wound up and you was right Lois was similar to your mother.

"You'd do that? Really?" You nodded to him smiling

"Absolutely I ain't afraid of no American.... apart from your mum shes scary as fuck, but seriously I can handle anything she tries to throw at me and you can show me around town while your at it, I'm guessing its in metropolis? when is it?" Martha sat back a little stumped turns out she wont have to set you two up after all.

"Err Its this Saturday ,you sure you want to come what about your book?" you waved him off

"Its fine Clark I can bring my laptop and work on it in the hotel" he nodded grinning wide suddenly excited about this next week then faltered.

"Don't bother booking a hotel you can stay with me for the week after all your doing me a huge favor its the least I can do to repay you" he chose to ignore his mothers raised brow. She had a few guesses at exactly how he was planning to pay you back and she doubted it was just going to be bed and breakfast.... probably breakfast in bed if the looks he gave you were anything to go by, not that she minded you would be a better fit for him anyway. Call it mothers intuition but she got the feeling that Clark would be around a little more now that you were just across the field.

"Oh no I couldn't! a hotel would be fine"

"I insist I would love nothing more then to have you to myself for the week" Martha tried to bite back a laugh, she never realized how cheesy her son was trying to flirt, no wonder he didn't have much success but she could see you fall for it hook line and sinker as you flushed squirming in your seat a little, he smirked at you from across the table getting more confident, he liked to think that he had already caught you. Prick he new exactly what he was doing as he leaned back man spreading, making your walls clench.

"You could spend the week ,we can catch a train tomorrow afternoon if you like, be back in time for dinner there's a nice diner near my apartment" you nodded a little suddenly feeling like one of the women in your books flustered heart racing a mile a minute as the man of your dreams offers to take you away from the boring daily routine. The question was were you brave enough to follow through with it, hell you'd moved to the other side of the world on a snap decision, spending a week alone with a drop dead gorgeous man should be a breeze, it didn't take long to decide giving him a shy smile nodding as you had butterflies in your tummy. His face lit up

"Great I will check the train times It's Sunday service but there should still be some in the afternoon"

"Perfect! I should go and pack then I suppose,Martha if I leave a key here could you watch the house for me and feed the fish when I'm gone" she nodded quickly excited but anxious at the same time, hoping that you would hit it off with Clark but at the same time apprehensive about how fast you was going, after all you only just met, but you were both adults and could handle yourselves and she knew you'd be safe with him.

"Oh is it formal or what?"

"Oh yes, its theme is Hollywood glam"

"Oooo I've got the perfect dress, any way I'm off and will see you both tomorrow be back around eleven tomorrow morning?" he stood nodding walking you to the door making you swoon inside as he opened the door above you reminding you just how big he was, a gentle giant.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow then Clark" he leaned down to your ear whispering

"Can't wait, sweet dream's Y/n I know mine will be" you gasped as he pulled away winking chuckling at your hot cheeks, he could have a lot of fun making you blush he decided as you turned quickly scampering down the stairs away from the house towards yours, who's roof you could barely see over the crops from this distance. He stayed there leaning on the door frame arms crossed groaning watching your ass sway as you made your way into the brakes in the crops what the tractors used to get across the field disappearing into the high crops.

"So you like her then?" he jumped back bumping into the door frame making it creak a little at his mothers sudden appearance, she giggled folding the tea towel in her hands.

"Wow you must have taken a shine to her if your so mesmerized by her or more specifically her backside, that I can sneak up on you,I haven't been able to do that since you were a little boy." he chuckled embarrassed that she'd caught him staring

"Not that I think you would but Clark? don't play with her feelings okay? shes a good kid and had it tough over the past few years and she doesn't need a heart break on top of everything else" he snapped his head to his mom.

"Ma you know I wouldn't-" she fixed him with a look

"You just admitted in there that you was going to use some poor girl to make a point to Lois and I'm telling you now if you hurt her I wont be impressed"

"I wouldn't do that to her, I wont hurt her I promise, but I would like to get to know her more...see if we could you know" she smiled softly at him

"I'm just saying your a handsome man and she could fall for you easily, don't use her as a rebound." he sighed she had a point but after seeing you all thoughts of Lois died.

"I like her Ma do you-do you think maybe she could like me to? this time have a relationship with me, get to know Clark Kent before Superman? that Clark could be enough this time?" that made her pause clenching the cloth in her hands twisting it, there was something in the way he said that, so unsure and hopeless she fumed inside his confidence was knocked she felt like she was speaking to the shy beaten down preteen he once was. He truly believed that Clark Kent wasn't good enough anymore and there was only one person to blame for that,it was with those words she realized that Lois had hurt him and hurt him bad, she sighed pulling him down kissing his cheek then cupped his cheeks making him look her in the eye.

"Now you listen to me and you listen well. You are good enough and you are loved, I don't know what Lois has put into your head, and for her safety I don't think I should know, but you forget it right this instant! you hear me?" he nodded a little still unsure as Martha searched his eyes for a little glimmer of confidence but her heart clenched when she couldn't find any, that confidence from earlier must have been false bravado. Lois was lucky she wasn't going to metropolis herself she's probably kill her for hurting her baby, tho she's sure Y/n was going to rip her apart in her stead it was a pity she wouldn't be there to see it.

"I think Y/n is already smitten with you and that you'd be good for one another. I've only known her four months but She doesn't try to be anything she's not, she takes people as she sees them and doesn't have time for all the games other women play its why we get along so well. And as a side note she has never reacted like that to any one else's attempts at flirting trust me there have been quite a few try when we've been out and she shut them down....Quite brutally now that I think of it. But if your serious about her give it your all I don't think you will be disappointed I think you'd be a good match." she wiped under his eye as they welled a little with unshed tears.

"Y-you really think she could like me?" he asked in a small voice.

"There’s no doubt in my mind that she already does, you think she'd agree to spend a week with you if she didn't? Honestly if you both hadn't made plans I was going to play matchmaker myself. Now why don't you go have a cold shower? and I can start on dinner"

"Cold shower?"

"You think I haven't notice your problem?" he flushed laughing wiping at his eyes and pulling his top down a little trying to cover the tent in his pants as she walked back into the house patting his back.

"Oh shit! You think she notice to?!" his mother laughed shrugging

"Who knows I mean she was checking you out to" as she entered the kitchen he stood there dumbfounded

"What Are you sure? I didn't notice"

"You wouldn't your a man, now go have a shower you are not eating at the table like that" he groaned shaking his head closing the front door making his way up the stairs to the bathroom.

#clark kent imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x reader #superman x you #dc x you #dc imagine #dc x reader #superman x y/n #superman imagine

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5lazarus · 3 years

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Labyrinth

Chapter Two: Kirkwall Read on AO3 here. Read Chapter One: The Circle here. Summary: Anders tries to enjoy a life roving without a care, but destiny--and justice, and letters from Karl--draw him to the City of Chains. A better world is possible, and though Kirkwall's a shithole, Anders is convinced that once he breaks Karl out of there, they can do anything. If you want the full story of how Justice and Anders take on a despair demon that's clogging people's lungs in the Foundry, check out my story Phosphorescence! (and read on, to find out why that's referenced!)

Anders wakes up in a dirty bed in the Gnawed Noble to Isabela tying a kerchief to keep back her hair. He watches her a moment, enjoying the suppleness of her back. She is lovely, nude but for the blue in her hair.

She glances over her shoulder carelessly. “Oh. You’re still here. I liked that thing you did with the lightning.” She picks up a letter, bound with a lyrium sigil pressed into the wax seal. “This came for you.”

“From who?” he asks, rolling out of bed. He stretches, enjoying taking up space with his nudity. He loves the lankiness of his body, he loves letting it feel good, the magic running through his veins, the pleasure this all brings to him and to others, the woman who took him to bed.

“Some mage in a silly hat,” Isabela says. “I don’t ask questions. Are you going to leave, or what?”

He snorts and gathers his clothes. Dressed now, Anders grabs his satchel and ambles down to the inn. The innkeeper places a fryup in front of him, generous because he fixed her back and hand tremor. Ferelden has never cared that much about mages, either locking them up or letting them go, and Denerim everyone always looks the other way. Anders eats until he’s full, luxuriating in the looseness of his body, and contemplates the letter in front of him. Who would reach out to him at this point?

Justice says, You left a lot of people behind. Karl? Mahariel let you go but she wasn’t happy about it.

I don’t want to think about that.

He slips the letter into his pocket, downs his ale, and leaves with a clatter of dishes. He should leave Ferelden soon, but cutting through Orlais seems a nightmare. There’s only so much amnesty the Wardens provide.

Anders finds himself at the city gates, slightly befuddled, and blinks. He draws in breath suddenly and coughs on the sweetly rotting smell of gutter garbage. Justice says, You should read that letter. I bet you it’s important. Taste that lyrium. It’s familiar, isn’t it?

“Shut up,” he murmurs.

The guards eye him warily. He hitches his satchel on his shoulder and passes through the gate without incident. The roads are busy now that spring is here and the slushy mud has dried again. Anders passes families returning to Denerim and merchants heading up the King’s road. At a crossroads he sits under the old wooden signs and pulls out his satchel. He’s got some hardtack left, and he nibbles at the corner of a piece while he contemplates what to do next. There is always the Anderfels. The Mages’ Collective needs more messengers, too, if he wants to be useful.

Justice says, You need to read that letter. You owe it to whomever wrote it.

Anders snorts. What are you now, my conscience?

If you need it. Justice is unplaceable. If it is right.

Sighing, Anders pulls out the letter. He presses his thumbnail onto the wax seal and surges a quick snap of lightning. Faintly, the lyrium sigil glows. The wax releases the paper. He opens the letter and begins to read. To his surprise, it’s not written in Common, but in Anders instead--clunky, constructed like it were Common, but understandable nonetheless.

“They’ve sent me to Kirkwall and I don’t even know why. Every few months someone goes missing and I can hear the Gallows screaming, no one knows where they’re going but it’s clear they’re trying to kill us. There are no old mages in the Gallows. The First Enchanter is the oldest and every day he is looking more pinched, more worn, he talks to himself or something, I don’t want to know. That’s how this place gets you. There is so much I don’t want to know but every night the dead rise teeming in my dreams, and they tell me this city was built on blood.

“I’ve heard rumors the Divine sent the Seekers to investigate and no one knows whether it’s to annul us or reconsider the Chantry’s puppet, Meredith. She killed the last Viscount and sent the new one his bloodied ring, as a reminder. This is where they send the liberati to die, if Uldred couldn’t ground them down first. Every month there’s a new disappearance and I do not know if it’s despair--you know me, I have never had patience for despair--but I wonder, when will I be next?

“Do not let me be next. Let the Mages’ Collective know--Kirkwall cannot be forgotten. We need help. Orsino is trying his best but the nobility is terrified of the Knight-Commander and clearly the Divine finds her useful. Get me out of here. Get us out of here. Or there will not be a Circle left.”

He heads back to Denerim and convinces Isabela to take him as far as Highever. He could get himself a bunk at the castle if he felt like it, Teyrn Cousland is generous to stray wardens since his sibling ran off with the Crows, but he wants to say unnoticed. He finds the Collective’s safehouse. A mage, fled from the White Spire, is sheltering there. When he tells her he’s heading to Kirkwall, she laughs.

“I promise I’ll get a drink for you, when I see your name of the missing list of the collective newsletter,” she says. “Me, I’m heading towards Denerim. I heard the Wardens are taking anyone, nowadays.”

“The Deep Roads suck,” Anders says flatly. “And they wouldn’t let me take my cat.”

“Why the fuck would you take a cat to the Deep Roads?” she says. “What sort of darkspawn cruelty is that?”

Needless to say, he does not make a new friend.

He leaves a letter at the Collective, for them to forward faster than he can get there: “I’m coming. I love you. Stay strong.”

It takes him another two weeks to get across the Waking Sea and into Kirkwall proper. Though it’s summer, the seas roil. The Wardens say that all the seasons fall out of joint after a Blight. It snows in Seheron, it rains upon the Hissing Wastes. He doesn’t get seasick; Justice keeps him strong, helping him ease into the gravity of the waves.

Sometimes you gotta lean into it, he says. Sometimes you gotta be swept away.

Rainsplattered and queasy the ship drags itself into the City of Chains. The bronze of the statues of screaming slaves shines dully in the low morning light. Anders feels suddenly the great despair of acceptance the millions who have passed through these gates grasp at his heart and tug lightly. Above the Gallows Hightown shines, clad in marble, on the literal backs of these statues. Karl had never sailed before. Stumbling down the plank, pushed by the eager crowd at his back, did he contemplate falling into the waters instead? Did he know how to swim? He had never been in a body of water larger than a bath.

Anders draws his hood over his face and disembarks, shaking. Justice says, steady, steady. This is where you’re meant to be. There’s work to be done yet.

“I need to get him out of here,” Anders murmurs. “All of them.”

Some nobleman’s Tevinter wife bribes the guards to let him through unquestioned. He gets a piece of paper that certifies he is sent by the Wardens to provide holy aid for the lost souls of Darktown, after the Blight. That isn’t forged, Mahariel sent it ahead of time; she keeps tabs on him, to remind him whose, exactly, he is. Karl’s, the Circle’s, the Anderfels’, Kirkwall’s--he is beaten and robbed on his way to meet the messenger from the Mage Underground. They take his shoes. Kirkwall’s cobbles are hard under his feet, and positively grotesque in the rain. He drags himself there regardless.

Justice says, Karl. The mages. There’s rot here, can you feel it? Millions dead. I came here too late. Or soon enough. There’s a grimness to his thoughts. Get yourself some clothes. Beg. Fuck. There are things in motion and we must be part of it.

Eventually he finds the right tenement and someone washes the grime off of him and gives himself to drink and ill-fitting boots, bought with Tevinter money. Sure, magic is made to serve man and not to rule over him, but the First Enchanter sends all records of the money the Formari bring in to the Chantry, so they take what hidden cache that can be ever-so-conveniently found. Someone explains to him that Tevinter has interests in the city.

“No shit,” Anders says. “I saw the statues. Got anything stronger to drink?”

He jots down a note in Anders, drunk and tired, as the rain floods the streets below: “I’m here. Where/when can we meet? I love you.” He tucks the note into a hollow gold coin. The next morning, as the neighbors bail out the basement apartments, Anders slops through the gutters to the Gallows. He heads to the Formari stand and slips it to the buyer. Then he hurries back to Darktown and makes himself useful. He patches houses and welds leaky pipes shut. He fights a Despair demon that mired itself in the muck of the Foundry. He develops the classic Kirkwall cough, and learns how to heal it.

He watches a lot of people die--starved refugees from the Blight, miners possessed by those who were sacrificed to the quarries centuries before their time, too many babies who seem to have been born listless, without the will to survive. Lirene calls it the Kirkwall disease.

“Mages don’t do well here,” she says, late one night in her shop, eating the last scraps of stew after a long beggars’ line. “You should try your luck elsewhere.”

Anders says, “Where? Tevinter? I’m not a slaver. No. This is where I have to be. You know.”

Lirene frowns over her bowl. “Yes,” she says. 1. Her spoon clinks as she places it down. “You know, while you wait for your boyfriend to contact you, you might as well make yourself useful. We can scrape together the bribes for the templars, if you want to do more than mix poultices.” Anders does not immediately answer. He does not want to return to the Circle, to die another slow death, humbling his temper and mastering desire, accepting that he must be watched. But you gotta, Justice says. Aren’t you sick of watching children die? Anders says, “Don’t worry about the bribes. I’ll talk to--” He stops. Lirene smiles at him. “I have a lover,” she says frankly. “He’s a templar. Oh, don’t give me that look. He’s a good one.” Anders scoffs. “Yes, yes, I know--the only good templar is a dead templar, or ones like Samson, who make themselves useful. He’ll pay the bribes, and he’ll deliver your letters too. If you make yourself useful.” “I want the right to fuck around,” Anders says, leaning back in his chair. The chair creaks warningly. “I’ll help out, sure. If your good templar can cover for me, then yeah. I’m sick of seeing babies die of depression. This city’s fucking miserable. I’m down to clean it up.” Lirene says, “Good. How good are you at fighting? There’s a set of rooms in Darktown the Seven Sisters have been using, but with my people and your mage connections, I’m certain we can talk them on.” Anders writes Karl: “L.’s helped me set up a clinic. I know, you remember how I’d always complain during those anatomy lessons. But it’s paid off, literally. I don’t make my patients pay, of course, but other people are happy to see me taking care of the detritus of Darktown. The shipworkers’ guild and the dockworkers’ guild pay me to treat their workers well. Which you know is getting me drawn into labor disputes which is fascinating but not really the point. What I want to say is that there’s a life outside the Gallows and even though it’s all literally underground, in a quarry where you can still see the clawmarks left by elves falling to their deaths, you can hear the screams at night and in the Fade, and the moss glows phosphorescence, even after Justice and Purpose and I took on that demon in the Foundry--I can feel something building. Something growing in this dank. Something’s gotta give, and it won’t be me. If that makes sense. I love you. Reply soon. Tell me, how are we going to meet?” Karl writes, “I would suck Ser Alrik’s dick for the chance to see phosphorescent moss. Well. Perhaps not Ser Alrik. He leaves me well alone. A mercy. Others aren’t so lucky. Our friend’s wife says the Seekers were last seen sniffing around the Viscount’s office, which is a good sign. Dumar’s M.’s puppet, and behind her is Elth and behind her is of course our great DVine. But I think it’s a good sign that she’s conducting an independent investigation of what makes Kirkwall hell. The entire apprentice class failed their Harrowing this week. It is so hard to keep the Tranquil safe, my love. We cannot risk leaving them alone but they stare and they stare and these ones, they’re barely more than children. Kinloch Hold was a slow death but this, I sometimes wonder how Jowan is doing in the Aeonar. Because I think it’s better than here. I’ve volunteered to watch the Tranquil in the market next week. We’ll be under heavy guard, we won’t be able to talk. But maybe you and L. can walk by. Even stand on the stairs. A glimpse, that’s all I need, to get through this. I love you.” Anders writes, “Your hair’s gone gray and you’ve let your beard eat your face. That’s how I know you’re suffering, my love. And you’ve lost weight. I don’t know how you can stand to be surrounded by Tranquil. They enrage me, they drive me past any control, and I don’t know if it’s Justice or grief or this fucking city, but I can’t stand seeing them, it makes me feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. And there’ll be Anders-gore plastered all around the fucking Gallows courtyard, like when Kirkwall had its first of many uprisings. Well, it’ll happen

eventually. My tribute to the sacrificed of the city. Except we’ll win, too. Every day I’m more and more convinced that not only a better world is possible, but it’s happening. So much that I can’t write here but the M.U. and the collective has eyes and ears everywhere and you’re right that it’s a good sign, what you told me. There’s more sympathy in high places than I thought, and all of the low. In my clinic I’ve met all sorts of people. Too many Fereldens, and they all think I’m Ferelden. Lots of elvhen nationalists. That’s how they spell it in Common, with the extra-H. Makes me wish I paid more attention to how Leorah used to write. There’s a Dalish clan nearby but they’re not from the area, they’re from the Korcari Wilds, and they don’t deal with the alienage. But I’ve been hearing a lot from the elves who work down on the docks, that’s not what they’re all like, and they’re so different about magic. They take it for granted, almost. None of the shame we get fucked with. They’re proud when little Ellana or Mahanon starts shooting sparks from their fingertips, and they’ll move their kids from alienage to alienage and clan to clan to keep them safe. I met a woman who’s been running a long time, to keep her son safe. He has bad nightmares, Kirkwall makes it worse, but she doesn’t have the money to move on. I gave her more than I can spare. If you could leave where would you want to go? I’m sorry. It’ll take longer but I swear I’ll get you out of there.” Karl writes, “My love, don’t worry. We can wait. We have time. You did the right thing. Maybe she can talk to the Dalish? Orsino’s complained about how Clan Sabrae has made dealing with M. more difficult. Huon was recently captured, he’d been living quietly in Kirkwall for years. He’s not taking the Circle well, but do any of us? I thought I could survive Kinloch Hold but now I see what you mean. I will kill to feel the grass under my ass. I mean it, Anders. I will. So, I suppose I want somewhere with grass. Do you remember the high grass on the steppes, how the frost would linger on the wheat? I remember my last harvest. It was beautiful, even if it meant that some of us were going to die. It came as a relief that the templars came. One less mouth to feed that hard winter. I wonder if any of my family survived. My mother was never good at rationing. I’d like to check. I haven’t ridden a horse since I was a child but perhaps we could steal horses and ride hard across across the Imperial Highway, through the wastelands of the Blight to the Wandering Hills. Do you remember crossing the Hunterhorn Mountains, when they dragged you to Ferelden? I want to see the sun rise on the mountaintop, above the frozen wastes, and tuck my hands under your tunic to keep them warm. I want to fuck you slowly as the bird wake up in the valley, in some forgotten corner of the mountains where no one will ever see us, and it will take centuries for anyone to stumble across our campsite. Promise me that. That you’ll keep me warm.” Then Anders does not hear from him for weeks.

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #kanders #karl thekla #anders #anders/karl #karl/anders #kirkwall #labyrinth #da2 #lirene #justice #dao #awakening

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cannibalisticapple · 4 years

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Okay, so I have some thoughts on Kurikuri’s decision to delete a large number of her fan fics, and on fan fiction as a whole.

For those who don’t know, Kurikuri (@letaizawarest) is a popular fan fiction author with numerous popular Erasermic fics, along with other fandoms. Around the end of May/start of June she deleted a large number of her stories, specifically those that featured either police, or those set in the My Hero Academia universe where they work as Pro Heroes.

To quote her post:

as you may have noticed, roughly half of the fics on my ao3 have been deleted.

i’ve deleted all my fics about police officers. also, after some thought, i also deleted my non-AU bnha fics, because although they might not be “cops” in name, they are law enforcement. i do not want to be a part of the system that glorifies the police.  

at the moment i haven’t deleted other profession AUs and high school era fics, but i will continue to reflect on their relation to the source material. even if you enjoyed the deleted fics, please do not circulate them in other formats (PDFs, EPUBs, etc).  

i also encourage other writers to think about cop fic they’ve written. while it may be fun and escapist for you, it still encourages the idea that antiblack and killer cops are just “bad apples” and that good cops exist. let’s dismantle that system of thought.

I have some very, very mixed feelings on this.

To start: I respect her reasoning, but I don’t agree with it. I fully agree that it’s not just a bunch of “bad apples”, there’s a serious issue with the system and how the police operate in the United States. I’ve always been bothered by how the police let other officers get away with horrible BS, even as a kid, and that rage has only grown as I’ve grown older and found out more about how screwed up it is on every single level.

But the way that last paragraph is written rubs me the wrong way because you can’t paint every single person in an entire career field as unequivocally corrupt, bigoted and all around callous murderers. Good cops DO exist. Plenty of people go into the career hoping to fix things, or just genuinely want to help their community in whatever way they can. But the thing is, they’re fighting a losing battle because the system is working against them. When they DO speak up against the corruption, bigotry, violence and other issues, they tend to get fired and blacklisted from the field. Or sometimes, they get outright murdered and it’s treated as a “suicide.”

A shitty fact of life: sometimes, the people who are more willing to resort to underhanded tactics and willing to turn a blind eye to corruption are the ones who climb up the career ladder furthest. And in the case of the police, it’s deep-rooted enough that it can’t be fixed internally anymore. But that doesn’t make literally every police officer corrupt.

I’m not posting this to make some political point or argument though. I obviously disagree with Kurikuri’s opinion, but I respect it. I can even respect her decision to remove the stories featuring the police, or even the ones heavily focusing on the characters’ jobs as pro heroes. I can see how heroes are just another version of law enforcement, because honestly, they are.

As a writer and a reader, I fully respect that it’s ultimately her choice to delete her stories. It’s not my place to make demands. She’s the one who created it, and as a writer I know the hard work and time that goes into crafting stories, so I believe she has a right in how it’s used and shared. The fact she shared it in the first place was something she didn’t have to do.

But the thing is, she DID share it, which is why I have this conflict.

As a writer, I’ve always believed that fiction can be more powerful than fact.

Fiction can give readers a window into mindsets you’d never imagine before, because you can connect more easily with fictional characters than real people on the news. That’s why Uncle Tom’s Cabin was so critical in the battle against slavery: it didn’t just gave a face to slavery, it let readers experience the characters’ lives directly. People got to see the struggles and suffering firsthand, feel the rising crescendo of hope each time freedom is in reach, and the soul-crushing despair every time that hope gets dashed by outside forces.

Fiction may not always be “true” or even “accurate,” but it can help us understand other people, see them as fellow humans, in ways that nonfiction just can’t. It can evoke emotions, empathy and familiarity in a reader that a news story or biography can’t capture because it draws you directly into their world.

And it’s that part—the part where readers enter this fictional world to connect to characters they’ll never meet—that leads to the other power of fiction that many people overlook:

Fiction has the ability to help readers persevere.

How many people reading this have used books to get away from trouble in their lives? To take a breather from all their anxieties and stress, and dive head-first into this other world for just a moment, where nothing else matters? How many people reading this had their whole lives changed by reading a story where a character’s words resonated with them? Where it helped them come to an epiphany about how to do better, how to be better.

Sometimes, the world is too overwhelming and we need to escape it. That’s the beauty of fiction. It lets us go to a world where our problems just don’t matter. Even if the world in question is worse than our own, it can still be a relief and give us hope because hey, at least we’re not living in 1984 or the Hunger Games, right? Stories are what keeps many people going through the hardest time, what gives them hope that life isn’t utterly hopeless.

And even after a story is finished, whether it’s fan fiction, a book, a show, or any other medium, that story will have a special place in people’s hearts. Many people will go back to those stories years later when they’re faced with immense stress and need a break from the real world, so that they can dive into the world that helped them persevere the last time they felt so bad. Just having a copy of it on hand can be a source of comfort even if you never read it again.

I want to highlight one phrase Kurikuri used in her post to describe how people feel writing stories about police and heroes: "fun and escapist”. That’s honestly so accurate, those stories are escapist, and that is why I’m so conflicted.

Stories about superheroes, while technically revolving around themes of law enforcement, are a form of escapism FROM police corruption.

There’s a reason that superhero comics are so popular in America. Superheroes appeal to a natural desire for justice because as so aptly pointed out, the real world doesn’t always HAVE that justice. It gives an ideal for people to aspire to, a glimpse of what could be, what should be. (Come to think of it, that’s probably why I hate the DC cinematic universe so much, it’s skewed way too much to favor the villains/antagonists and maximize suffering for the good guys.)

Right now, the world is full of more injustice than ever before. I can’t turn on the news without feeling my rage and stress boil over. Every day it gets worse and worse somehow, and I (and many others) genuinely fear that the United States may be heading towards a civil war this November. Donald Trump’s voice alone is enough to make my blood boil at this point.

I, and many others, turn to fan fiction so I can break away from reality because that amount of rage and fear just isn’t healthy.

I don’t have depression, or anxiety, or an abusive family, or a chronic illness. I’m not at risk of being made homeless anytime soon, nor do I need to worry about bills right now or going hungry. I’m a privileged white girl who has barely anything to worry about. What I’m saying is I’m fucking lucky and I know it, but I STILL can’t stand thinking about the state of the world and need to get the fuck away from it to take a breather for my own mental health.

And I also know that many people don’t have that option because their situation is so bad, they NEED to be aware of it at all times.

In the past when writing for other fandoms, I’ve had people tell me my fan fiction was the reason they did not commit suicide.

In my early college years I fell into the creepypasta community and was pretty active in it, especially on deviantArt. I don’t know if that particular fandom’s subject and focus makes it more appealing to teenagers going through rough times or what, but I swear, more than half the people I spoke to suffered from some form of mental illness, abusive or broken family and home situations, bullying, and every other way the world can screw someone over through means beyond their control.

During that time, a few readers left comments that waiting for my stories to update were what kept them going. They didn’t explicitly say that it was the only reason they didn’t kill themselves. It was more just remarks like, “Your writing is the only thing keeping me going.”

I’m not vain enough to believe my stories are so good, it made people decide to continue living JUST to see what happens next. Suicidal thoughts and urges are much more complex than that. But it’s still not something you expect to hear on something you write for fun.

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t because my stories were "just that good.” I think it was because they needed something to cling to in bleak times. That sometimes at the lowest point where all seems lost, people need just one little thought, just the smallest thing to push away those dark urges before they could fully overwhelm them. Something like, “If I die now, I won’t get to see how that story ends.” It’s such a small thing, but having something to look forward to can be so powerful in fighting off impulsive decisions.

It’s made me hyper-aware of just how powerful writing is.

To me, I see writing as a way of helping others. I give people that option for escape. It’s a large part of why I update on a regular, weekly schedule, and why I published extra chapters when the pandemic got announced and when the riots started. People need that comfort, that little break from reality to just sit and breathe so they can get through the rest of the day. I can’t do much to fix the world, but I can at least give people that.

Right now, people need that escape more than ever.

And deleting the stories is taking that escape away and causing MORE stress.

In times like this, people often turn to the stories they know will help most, and plenty of people in fandoms will first search up their favorite ships. They look for fluff, smut, angst... It helps people feel better to focus on these two people who are obviously in love as they work through their troubles.

Many times, readers will be more drawn to stories in the canon universe than radical AUs set in other universes. That’s how they were introduced to those characters. I myself can enjoy no-power and fantasy AUs sometimes, but what I really crave are how they interact in the canon world because that’s the world and versions of them I want to see the most. By deleting EVERY SINGLE STORY IN THE CANON UNIVERSE, that option was removed.

In many of the stories that were deleted, the characters’ careers were honestly a minor facet of the story. Some used it to establish the setting, such as treating injuries after a patrol. Some just simply used it to explain they work at UA, a school for teaching kids with superpowers. Some just had them work as heroes because it’s set in the canon universe, and never directly show ANTTHING about the work.

I’m not always looking for a story about how being a hero shapes and impacts their lives, and most of those stories that got deleted AREN’T about being a hero. That’s just one piece of their character, it’s far from the focal point. It could honestly be removed from several of them without changing the rest of the story.

I can get wanting to make a political point and I respect that, but by deleting those stories, you’ve taken away a key source of comfort from hundreds, thousands of people. By deleting the stories, you’re making the stress worse.

On Saturday night, I realized several of my favorite stories are suddenly gone. I knew Kurikuri had deleted a bunch of her stories, but I hadn’t realized just how many of them I liked. Some of them I’ve specifically sought out to reread multiple times in the past, never really paying attention to the author. Realizing they’re just gone caused me heavy stress because it made me paranoid about all these other stories I like to reread. I don’t expect those stories to be around forever, but I still didn’t expect them to vanish so suddenly. I never thought I’d need to download them to make sure I’d still be able to read them while the site is still up.

I spent hours searching out specific stories to see if they were written by her, and make sure they’re not gone forever. I have no way of knowing which ones she’d written and deleted because there’s not exactly a list out there anymore. My desperate search for those stories and one in particular (which I still haven’t found) contributed to the lack of sleep I got that night.

And I need to reiterate: I am mentally healthy and have no major stresses in my immediate life. And that’s why I’m hyper-aware of how this stress will affect people who AREN’T as lucky as I am.

If an author decides to delete their stories because they feel the stories themselves push harmful values or themes, fine. If they’re getting harassed, or it reminds them of a bad time in the lives, or they just don’t like that story anymore, okay. I can respect that and accept it.

But these stories were deleted for the EXACT reasons that people will be looking for them now more than ever, and that’s where I draw the line.

This applies to ALL fandoms.

If you as a fan fiction writer have more than, say, 100 kudos on a completed story or one-shot, there’s a good chance people will read and reread your story in stressful times. If you have a reasonably popular story that updates on a regular or even semi-regular basis, there is a chance that someone is using it as a lifeline to have something to look forward to while the rest of their lives go to hell. Maybe not because they specifically love it, but because it gives them something routine.

I want to make it clear that it’s not our job to care for other people’s mental health. Fan fiction writers don’t have an obligation to people, we’re doing it for fun first and foremost. We’re not some sort of saviors, and we shouldn’t think of ourselves that way or we can honestly screw people up worse. We’re not obligated to write these stories JUST for our fans.

At most, our stories are sources of support and comfort for readers. A little break from reality. If writing a story is causing you more stress than enjoyment, stop. Fan fiction, and all other fan media and stories in general, is ultimately created for the creator’s enjoyment more than anything.

Your own mental health comes first. Don’t set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.

But with how utterly fucked and unfair the world is right now, people need those stories now more than ever. So if you’ve got a story out there that’s fairly popular, please, please, PLEASE be mindful of your readers before deciding to delete it. Now is the absolute last time people need more stress trying to find a single story. And if you’re going to delete it, maybe give readers a heads up so that those who need it or have some powerful attachment to it for all the reasons I’ve discussed here can download a copy for their own personal use.

Don’t hurt your readers to make a point.

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fandom #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfic #kurikuri #letaizawarest #erasermic #maizawa #writing #stories #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #tw suicide #superhero #superheroes

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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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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Royally Screwed

Ivar+Princess! Reader (Modern AU)

(Secret Project: Happy Birthday Gabi!)

(A/N): Hello there lovelies!

We are all joined here together to celebrate @flowers-in-your-hayr‘s birthday!

So be sure to give the most beautiful and most talented moodboard creator ever a huge hug and wish her ‘Happy Birthday’ because she thoroughly deserve it.

We thought that to celebrate it writing you a few stories based on a few of your most beautiful moodboards (although it was rather difficult, because... I mean... THEY ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL).

I really really hope I have made justice to your beautiful creation!

Also this was a project created by the lovely @maggiescarborough give her a round of applause for her magnificient planning!

WARNINGS: Corny Stuff, Light Mentions to the ‘90s/00s, Not Correct Princess Etiquette and Ivar Just Being a Sassy Asshole).

Moodboard was created and is owned by @flowers-in-your-hayr

It had been a simple Friday night when a princess had entered in Ivar’s life.

But he hadn’t known it, in the slightest.

In the end, he wasn’t anything more than a store clerk at the Blockbuster his uncle Floki owned, since he needed money for college, because not only he had to deal with the absence of his father, but also his mother had recently passed away from a terrible illness, battling with addiction and its hold.

Any guy of his age would have been out, probably hooking up with somebody or taking part in the usual things that boys did when they were carefree and normal.

But Ivar had never been normal.

So, on Friday at 10 p.m. he was looking at the black and white screen of a security camera as he observed the last client of the night, before the typical porno-lovers came crashing in during his night shift.

Honestly, working at a Blockbuster taught you much more about people than a pyschology major could.

And Ivar who was graduating to become a psychanalyst certainly needed all the human expertise he could gain.

Usually at this hour, it was unusual that people entered the store, even more a pretty girl with everything that made her resemble Cher from ‘Clueless’, as she moved across the many sectors, sometimes pushing forward an hand to get a movie, before pushing it back in its place, as if the cover wasn’t what it promised from the plot, noted on its back.

He knew that he was a big creep for checking her out, but he didn’t trust pretty girls like you.

He had caught a few trying to slip DVDs, under their jackets, and it had been awful trying to confront them as they played the ‘dumb blondes’ act, meanwhile he sweated through his shirt because they had this look in them that made him feel beneath them.

It was always like that with pretty girls, for him.

Whether it’d be their pity or disgust, Ivar had never felt himself being treated like an equal.

Which had been all he had wanted, his entire life.

Luckily you didn’t slip anything in your jacket, and he was glad to see you exiting empty handed, probably having been called by your bootie call, at the last moment, because it honestly made no sense for you to be there, alone.

But she didn’t move to the exit door.

No, she moved to him.

Stopping right in front of the cash desk.

In front of him.

“Can I help you with something?” he kind of expected her to ask him some kind of dumb question, because of her entire material girl appeal, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks, clearly at unease.

Something the camera hadn’t caught.

“I have been…” she bit her lips, drawing them inside of her mouth, before releasing it in some kind of vapid gesture that would have made everybody else look like an old hag “… I was browsing through the movies and… I might need a hand to choose one”.

He kind of expected you to push him in front of the eternal dilemma of watching for the umpteenth time ‘Spice Girl-The Movie’ or watching some awful corny romantic shit that was so ‘en vogue’ these days.

“… I am more than happy to help” he knew his face said the opposite of what he had told her, but he just wanted to go back to the paper he had been filling for a college class, before you had come there.

Floki had once told me that he should have tried ‘to be nicer’ to clients.

But they all took a good look at Ivar’s legs and they’d be bought.

‘Of course, he is an asshole and shit store clerk…’ they’d say exiting the shop ‘… with those legs… poor him’.

And it just made him be meaner towards clients.

But he was in for a surprise.

Because behind your material girl attitude you exited two movies: ‘Notting Hill’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’, not exactly something that completely distanced you from his initial thoughts of you, but he couldn’t deny that the vintage options definitely surprised him.

“I have never watched either of them” she commented, softly, almost ashamed and Ivar couldn’t help but lower lightly his harsh glare trying to soften its edges.

It was obvious that as much as he hated ‘party girls’, he had misjudged you.

You didn’t seem the type who’d make Ivar life a living hell, if he refused to accept back DVDs smeared with lipsticks.

“Can’t take them both?” he simply blurted out because you seemed loaded from your wardrobe.

“Ahem… I…” she blushed so graciously that Ivar honestly hadn’t the heart to keep the teasing, and lowered his harsh gaze “… my brothers think that I am already a nerd for coming here, if I came back with more than one movie, well they…”.

“I do know something about brothers teasing you” he muttered, as she smiled so openly that it made him smirk lightly and he then proceeded to shift his attention away from your pretty naïve expression, because it was making him feel lightly sweaty…

… and blushy.

“I’d tell you that ‘Dirty Dancing’ is a classic, undoubtedly one of the trashest things to pass a night…” he couldn’t help but adore the light giggle she let out, as she moved a finger in her hair, lightly twisting a strand of hair against it, and ok…

… Ivar had always hated it when girls did, but Gosh… you were adorable.

“… but?” you asked, softly, understanding that he was stalling, as he grabbed ‘Notting Hill’ from you.

“But this is the real shit” he commented.

He knew that he didn’t seem the type who enjoyed those movies, but one some days of his job he was left with nothing to do and he had watched an awful lot of movies, starting to develop a certain passion for a few of them.

Some even that certainly wouldn’t have been approved by the Lothbrock clan.

But she was a stranger, somebody he wouldn’t have ever seen again.

So, he could confess her all the qualities of Notting Hill, meanwhile she looked at him truly enthralled by what he said.

“… boy meets girl, except she is just a superstar actress, and then… they meet again and they fall out and… it certainly gives you a lot of reasons not go out with a public celebrity” he muttered, seeing that tic of biting her lips return, as she grimaced lightly at his words, but eventually she smiled at him, getting the money from her pockets to rent it.

“Ok, you got me hooked up on it”.

He moved to take the money as he registered the loan, but he caught her looking at the ‘Dirty Dancing’ DVD, as if she was extremely sad that she couldn’t take it home, alongside ‘Notting Hill’.

He damned himself for pretty girls and their twirling fingers, having everything wrapped around them.

“What if I push ‘Dirty Dancing’ aside for you?” he asked.

It wasn’t against any policy, but he usually didn’t do any favor to the clients, preferring to simply register their loans or what they had bought.

But he knew what it meant to ache for a little comfort, in life.

For a soft and free gentleness.

“Oh… is that possible?” she seemed honestly surprised he’d do it for her, as if people had never been selflessly gentle with her “Because if it is, I’d love that”.

“Don’t worry” he muttered, as he moved to push the DVD of ‘Dirty Dancing’ under the cash desk, taking a small piece of paper “… just give me a name and phone number”.

She seemed unsure, and he couldn’t blame her: he could be a creep simply asking for a phone number.

But she ended up giving it to him, as he registered it quickly, under her name and he then added the small paper inside the DVD box, again hiding under the cash desk, so that Floki would know that it wasn’t simply a mismatched edition.

“Thank you very much” her tone was again damnably genuine, and Ivar couldn’t fight against the small smirk that appeared on his face.

“Ahh don’t worry, everybody these days, is just interested in the umpteenth rerun of Beverly Hills 90210, so you haven’t made me lose any money” he replied, trying to seem the most detached he could “… just come back next week, letting me know how much your brothers enjoyed it”.

She erupted in a little giddy laughter and he honestly swore that there and then, his heart had stopped for a minute beating, before she took in the bag from his hand, after he had eased off the security measures and given her the small piece of paper with the return date.

“I do think that they’ll cry more than me” she muttered softly before she turned towards the door and Ivar felt like he could breathe again.

And then she twirled another time, the movement lightly making her skirt raise a bit, as he stole a sneaky glance at your thighs.

Gosh, Hvitserk was right, he had a problem.

“Have a nice night!”.

Hadn’t he been smitten with her, already, he’d just have replied something torturously awful, such as ‘thank you, I’ll enjoy having to deal with couples looking a way to spice up their lives with awful porn videos’.

But he simply smiled, the creepiest smile he could deliver since he could see it on the reflecting surface of the glass doors of the shop, as he simply waved slowly his hand to salute her, and then she rushed outside, to an awaiting car.

An awaiting expensive car.

And Ivar fell back on his chair.

And thought about why the heck his heart wouldn’t stop beating that fast.

A few days later he was watching TV with that fucktard of Heahmund, his college roomie.

They hadn’t exactly chosen to be roommates, but Heahmund had been kicked out by too many religious confraternities to have the luxury of a choice.

So, Ivar had been assigned to him, because of his perfect behavior during his college years, hoping it’d influence the other man.

They had begrudgingly set up some rules, and although Ivar hadn’t still got used to Heahmund’s silly faith, they hadn’t killed each other in their sleep yet.

He was watching TV, as he tried to compile an email for his brothers to let them know that they should have worked harder to get back their legacy from Lagertha, who had screwed over their father and mother, and then he saw her, the girl from the store, on TV.

It was definitely because he recognized her thighs.

Gosh, he was a fucking pervert.

She was dressed in an elegant suit, with a tube skirt and an elegant white shirt, matched perfectly with the light blue of the entire ensemble and with your hair brought up in a rather royal hairstyle.

Perfect for the crown nestled on top of her head.

A glimmering tiara on it.

“Turn the fucking volume on” he muttered at a very stoned Heahmund, who was looking half-mindedly the TV, just shooting a confused look at Ivar, who just stole the TV remote from his hand to switch on the audio, catching right when a journalist moved to ask you in the secluded area of what looked like a non-American talk-show with subtitles.

And even your voice corresponded.

“So, you are going to America next week, am I right? Aren’t you excited?” the interviewer asked as if she was the more excited about it of the two, meanwhile the girl from the store (or maybe it was better to say ‘the princess from the store’) smiled awkwardly, definitely not at ease with the affectionate tone of the journalist.

“Yes, of course! I mean it’s America!” the laughter of her reply sounded so fake, that Ivar couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the awkwardness of the situation “… I am just glad to leave home for the first time”.

The last mumble still was sincere, and pretty quickly the interview was cut, bringing it to a more general scheme, which said it all about the mysterious princess of some strange country he had never heard of.

Born and raised inside of a palace, she had two older brothers to whom the crown wouldn’t have been passed down, since the line was transmitted through mother-to-daughter, and she’d be taking the crown at the age of twenty-five, replacing her father’s regency, after her mother’s death.

Why did it have to sound so much like ‘Cinderella’?

Unlike her brothers, she was known for being private about her life, having graduated in a private university in England, early, and being involved in a few humanitarian projects.

She’d be staying in America for a few weeks both to explore the country and to talk about modern matters with a few of politicians, to also expose the openness of her native country.

And Ivar had met you in the shithole of his uncle’s store.

He had always thought that Hugh Grant was a fucking idiot in ‘Notting Hill’ after he had met Julia Roberts’ character, but Gosh… he was glad he hadn’t you in front of him, in that moment, because he’d have probably asked her too if you wanted ‘peaches with honey’.

The focus of the reportage was now onto her again, changed in much more comfortable clothes, although they undoubtedly looked expensive.

She smiled at the camera and then bit her lips, lightly, but definitely showing she wasn’t used to this kind of attention on herself, and he couldn’t blame her, since he had the same problem with barely his family.

‘I really hope to find a second home in America” she closed the interview, waving softly her goodbyes with a soft kiss.

And then Heahmund had to ruin his fantasy.

“You know where you can find a new home? On my…” and before he could complete the awful phrase, Ivar hit him in his head with the remote “… ouch, what the fucking hell?!”.

“Next time be a gentleman” simply mumbled Ivar.

“Is that what your mommy taught you, Ivar dear?” grimaced Heahmund in a sickly sweet tone but Ivar didn’t accept the provocation, simply ignoring his roommate, who went back to his observing of the screen without no noise, as if he was trying to communicate with it.

He should have seriously thought about renting an apartment with Hvitserk, as his brother had suggested.

And he should have thought about having to face her again, with the knowledge that you were a princess.

That Friday night he had been secretly praying she wouldn’t show up, that the phone number was fake and that it was just a big trip of his stupid mind.

But she did show up, this time in a different mise: something like a mixed version between Madonna in her videoclip of ‘Like a Virgin’ and some grunge aesthetic mixed up with the inevitable touch of her ‘material girl’ appearance.

She immediately approached the cash clerk, saluting him as if he was an old friend.

And he, like an idiot, did the waving right back.

‘C’mon, Ivar it isn’t going to be so bad’ he tried to calm himself down ‘… just start a normal conversation, avoid mentioning that she is a princess and give her the damned DVD’.

“Hi” she mumbled softly as he moved to promptly grab the DVD “Thank you for the suggestion! I loved it… the entire interview thing… and ‘I am just a girl…’… but I am blabbering”.

“Ahem no no” he reassured her, shaking his head, as he tried to shake himself out of the stupor of having a princess in his store “… I am glad you liked it”.

“Well, thank you for the suggestion” she shot back, definitely not at ease with awkward silence “… now can I get ‘Dirty Dancing’?”.

“Of course, your highness” it might have passed off as a simple sarcastic joke, but his tone went suddenly serious, and her eyes rushed to his, nervous, obviously even more at unease, after she had been discovered.

“… Gosh… you have seen the shit on TV, haven’t you?”.

He didn’t know whether to be more impressed by the fact that she had read through him immediately or that she had said ‘shit’.

Were princesses even allowed to say that?

“… yeah” he muttered back, as she looked up at the roof, before she uttered down a big huff.

“Please do me a favor and just… don’t tell anybody that I was here”.

“I don’t think that anybody would ever believe me” he shot back, wondering whether he should have respected any etiquette and curtsied to her.

But if she was trying to hide her true identity it probably meant she didn’t want to be treated as a princess.

And she smiled at his comment.

“Thank you, not that I have anything against this place, I honestly like it, and wouldn’t want to move away, again…” she explained calmly, her hands again going to her hair.

“It must be hard” he commented, lightly sarcastic, as he passed the ‘Dirty Dancing’ DVD, unloading the safety on it “… Gosh, don’t you have a better way to pass a Friday night?”.

His tone was harsh, but she didn’t back down, as she held his gaze.

Her tenderness definitely had a limit.

“… I am not one for the parties my brothers attend” she smirked sadly, as she pushed back herself from the counter, lightly adjusting the leather jacket she was wearing over her shoulders “… and every diplomatic event I was supposed to be at, either was too boring or people assumed that I was the waitress”.

“Certainly not because of your impeccable sense of style” he complimented her, a light dash of blush immediately on her cheeks, as she set her eyes on her heeled mary-janes.

“I do have to say that if I walked in dressed like this, they’d probably call security” she mumbled, again giving him a twirl of her skirt “… but thank you for having taste, one of the few things that I like doing in America is dressing as crazily as I want to”.

“If you think that it crazy, sweetheart, you haven’t seen nothing yet” he replied tightly, raising his eyes to meet hers, finding them truly amused, before a sudden light appeared in her eyes, a mischievous light.

“When do you end your shift?” she asked, pushing herself on the rubber tips of her mary-janes as Ivar tried to calm himself down from the fact that a pretty girl, a princess actually, had just asked him out… or so he thought.

“In an hour” Floki had given him a shorter shift, due to the fact that he had told him he’d need a bit of time to study for an important exam, which would be happening on Monday “… but I wouldn’t suggest you hanging out with me, I suck at the conversation stuff”.

“But your taste in movies is good” she retorted as one of her hands moved on the cash desk.

“I could be a psycho”.

“A psycho wouldn’t say that”.

He couldn’t understand the reason behind why she’d want to hang out with him.

She was a princess.

He was a store clerk with a genetic disease and an awful personality.

Things like this only happened in movies and fairytales

“… but if you don’t want to hang out with me, I get it…” she seemed low key used to it, as if it wasn’t unusual for pretty princess like her to get rejected “… just forgive me, I’ll go back and watch ‘Dirty Dancing’, alone…”.

“Don’t make me feel guilty” he muttered under his breath “… I’ll hang with you, but you have to promise me that you’ll watch a few good movies”.

“I have an hour to kill”.

Her smile had him by the balls.

And he knew he was royally screwed.

After waiting for an hour, watching ‘Dirty Dancing’ on the store TV, Ivar finished his turn and he locked the shop beside him, as she waited for him outside, smirking.

She hadn’t seemed too fazed by Ivar’s legs, as she had seen them, and if she was, she didn’t show it on her face and she looked completely at ease, outside, although she pushed the hood of her hoodie over her head, to hide her face.

“Aren’t you seriously worried that I might turn out to be a psycho?” Ivar asked, sure that there would be more behind all of this.

She could actually be the psycho.

And yet he couldn’t push himself away from her.

“I don’t get those vibes from you, and no offense…” she shot a quick look at her legs “…but I was on the run team”.

“Gosh, are you even real?” he threw back, as he led her inside to the nicest fast food chain, still open.

“My brothers say that I am from another era” she joked, as she sat down in front of him meanwhile he busied himself from the menu, more to hide himself than because he needed to check it out, since he basically lived in this place “… one where girls hid behind folding fans and wore petticoats”.

“What the hell is a petticoat?” he mumbled, but they were interrupted by the waitress asking their orders, sending Ivar an impressed look, as he hid further in the menu.

They spent a few more minutes in a comfortable small talk, talking about whatever ran around their mind, in a strange and natural chemistry that flooded, as she muttered of everything in the least princess-y style.

But her impeccable manners immediately came back, as she tried to cut through a burger with her knife and fork, making Ivar inevitably laugh, and he had to explain her that in America ‘eating with your hands is proper’.

“… America is strange” she mumbled lightly.

“You can say so”.

But he was soon distracted by the way she moved to eat the burger, very very much surprised that a princess could be so disgraceful.

“… don’t laugh… please” she mumbled as soon as she realized that he was staring “… my brothers bullied me for it”.

“Something that we have in common” he replied directly.

“You also were bullied by your brothers?” she asked surprisedly.

“Yeah and I hadn’t simply two… but four”.

“Wow, your mother deserves an award”.

“She would have loved that” a slight ghost of pain appeared in his eyes as he shielded them away from her, but she caught it just in time.

“I am sorry” she seemed honestly moved by what he had just said, sending him a soft look.

“Thanks” he muttered, before rushing to shift the attention away “… so do you have any weird habits that I should know of, uptown girl?”.

“Now you are being a psycho” she replied, as she pushed herself up from the drink she was gulping down.

“I told you”.

They both erupted in laughter, which kept happening also after they left the fast food restaurant so Ivar could accompany her back to her hotel.

‘You don’t have to’ she had tried to persuade him, again that expression of surprise at him being nice with her ‘… I’ll just get a taxi’.

‘I do think that you’ll take more to call a taxi than to arrive by feet’ he had shot back ‘… and also, as the true psycho that I am… I have to see where you live so that I can send you black dahlias, each day’.

She had just told him that if he wanted to send her anything, he should have thought about sunflowers.

‘They are my favorites!’.

At the entrance of the expensive hotel, they both were stalling, as if neither of them wanted to leave.

“It was nice…” he muttered, looking down at his doc martens “… I mean…”.

“I totally get it” she stopped him softly “… tonight I had the most fun I have had since I came in America”.

“Gosh, then you seriously had a shitty experience!”.

Again laughter, and then an obnoxious sound trilling through their soft awkward laughs, making her reach out in her pockets and get out a small bedazzled cellphone, making Ivar laugh, as she shushed him with a quick look, before she moved to reply.

“… yeah yeah, I am at the hotel” she muttered quickly in English, before she moved in a softer tone and in a different language, although from her voice, she was annoyed with whoever had called her, eventually ending the call as the other person was still talking to her.

She just sent him a quick look, before shaking her head.

“… my brothers just got back from a party and didn’t find him inside”.

“Don’t you have bodyguards?” he had been surprised by how freely she was allowed to go outside.

“Ahem… I might have sent them to get me food and then escaped the room” he sent you an impressed look “… that is what happens when people think that you aren’t some kind of ‘rebellious party girl’ “.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he smirked lightly, making her giggle.

That sound honestly would have lulled him to sleep, that night.

“Thank you…” her mutter was so soft, that he was sure that the light nightly breeze would have swept it away from him “… not solely for keeping the secrets, but also for the good night”.

“It was my pleasure, your highness” he retorted with a haughty look, as she just shot him light smirk before she pushed her shoulder straighter in a truly royal pose.

And she commented before slipping inside.

“It’s your Brilliance, actually”.

And Ivar wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it or it was real.

Either way, he went to sleep with a smile on his face.

She kept on showing up to his work, to the point that Floki asked him, if ‘his crippled ass had finally gotten himself a pretty girl’.

But he had simply replied that she was just somebody who had started sticking around him.

‘Whatever you say, asshole’ had replied Floki with a wink, before she came to gain a few movie suggestions, and as soon as his turn was over, she’d be already waiting, either a leather jacket or a denim one on her shoulders, for them to discover the newest and greasiest fast food, America could offer.

He had once muttered about how he never thought that princesses enjoyed ‘that shit’.

‘I have been feeding on broccolis, since I was five’ she had retorted with a stern look ‘… I’ll take “that shit” over everything else’.

He had discovered that being a princess wasn’t in the slightest as amazing as he had thought, but still she couldn’t deny that many of the chances she got in life were because of her titles.

Which just made it all worse.

‘I never know if people are truly nice with me because they truly like me or if they… do it because I am a princess’ she had been playing with her food, suddenly sated, as she hid her eyes from him ‘… and they want something from me’.

He knew that she was examining him still, almost as if to see in which one of the sections he fell in.

‘Yeah, you know, it’d be nice, if her royal Brilliance paid for her burgers’ he had retorted, as she had giggled lightly, before she had gone one step further and paid for the all the fast food clients of the night, getting a crazed look from their waitress, meanwhile Ivar’s open mouth fell almost to his feet.

They then had to rush off, since it wouldn’t undoubtedly attract curious eyes.

Some days they’d just crack up jokes and talk about movies and sometimes they’d sit in comfortable silence, needing simply a look to be understood.

It took Ivar a whole week to fall in love with a princess.

He couldn’t deny that whenever she’d smile at him, his heart almost wanted to jump out of this chest.

And whenever they’d have to separate, because she had to go back, he’d be left almost dealing with the side effects of it.

But although his feelings were as evident as ever, he had to hide them from her.

Because, although she might have found a perfect jester in Ivar, she wasn’t the type of girl that went for the cripple.

And she had a crown to keep on her head.

So, it was fun while it lasted.

But when it wouldn’t, anymore…

… it’d break his heart.

That day he had noticed that she didn’t look as comfortable as the previous nights, her mind pushed off away from him, almost as if she was hiding it from him, because she knew that her eyes would reveal all the truth.

And her replies were as weak as your laugh.

And he had had enough.

“… did you lose your crown, in all your designer clothes?” he had harshly commented, although he knew that she wouldn’t take it personally.

“I am going back tomorrow” she revealed, finally raising her face, her lips pushed in a grimace, almost as if the words tasted sour in her mouth “… I have nothing more to do, and I’ll go back, since I have more etiquette lessons to attend”.

The joke didn’t sound half as funny as it should have been, almost being choked in her mouth.

And Ivar couldn’t help but say nothing.

He knew that it’d happen…

… but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

And so abruptly.

“I have a flight at 5 p.m., tomorrow, so I don’t think that there’ll be any other nightly rampages” again nothing in her tone sounded as joyful as it should have been.

He was glad he wouldn’t be the only one feeling like shit.

In the first days, he had simply believed that after she’d be leaving him, everything would go back to how it was.

It’d be just ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.

But right now… he didn’t know if he could go back to a time before her.

If he wanted to go back

Because although it hurt, the thought of having lived those moments.

They almost warmed up his cold and dark heart.

“I’ll miss you” it was the closest he could come to admitting his feelings

And before he knew it, she was bringing him in a tight hug, something wet staining his stupid work uniform, but he didn’t care as he held her tighter

There weren’t many words as you said ‘goodbye’, in a light and soft way, almost as if they both didn’t believe it.

But it had to happen.

And yet, as he woke up that morning, with the beautiful sound of his awful roommate bumping in the coffee table, he couldn’t help but think that he wouldn’t see her lounging annoyedly by the cash desk, asking him with her fluttery eyes whether they’d be leaving soon or she had the time to watch ‘Grease’.

He wouldn’t have anybody to tease, because she could ride horses but still was scared of dogs, hiding behind Ivar.

And he wouldn’t have anybody that truly understood him.

But what was truly eating him inside was the fact that she’d go without knowing truly how he felt about her.

He had hated the main character of any rom-com, who did amazing but stupid things, because they certainly didn’t work in real life.

There were a few thousands reasons why he might have trouble getting past the security measures at the airport, just to tell her ‘I really like you’.

And to be rejected in front of anybody?

He wasn’t Jerry McGuire.

Although you were prettier than Reneé Zellweger.

One more reason not to run at the airport and get dumped there.

And then he heard a knocking on the door.

He hoped it wasn’t Ubbe with his monthly check, because his house smelled like pot and he had some girl’s underwear on his sofa.

But it was worse: it was you.

“Before you accuse me of stalking, Floki gave me your address, yesterday” she commented promptly, decked in definitely a more elegant assemble than the ones you usually wore, with a long trench-coat hiding a lilac sweater and a checkered skirt.

“… I… I’ll kill Floki” he would have definitely.

And then set fire to the fucking store.

“Oh c’mon, he seems a nice boss” she replied, biting her lips, a dash of natural blush on her adorable cheeks.

“… he gave my address to a stranger”.

“A royal stranger” she reminded him “Not that I don’t love talking here, but my heels are killing me, so can I move inside?”.

He took in a deep breath, before pinching his hip, to assure himself this wasn’t a dream, and he ducked his head, inside to see if Heahmund had passed out on the floor or he had reached his room safely.

“Yeah, but just… close your eyes, I’ll guide you”.

“You went back to the creepy questions” but she still closed her eyes as she stepped inside, immediately sniffling the air around “… nice smell”.

“Thank you, it’s pot” he mumbled, rushing in his room, as she giggled beside him.

And when they were both inside, he couldn’t help but realize that he had his own Anna Scott, in his own house.

And he wasn’t acting any better than Hugh Grant.

As he sat down on his bed, she circled his room, curiosity shining in her eyes, as if it was a completely different and exciting world for her.

“Not that I don’t mind seeing your royal ass, but… what are you doing here?” he asked, a bit harsh, because he couldn’t help but feel insecure about this entire situation “… don’t you have an airplane to take?”.

“I couldn’t” she mumbled, almost as if it was the most natural thing “… my brothers are going back, I have… I have asked around and I’ll stick here to be a diplomatic”.

This time it was Ivar who bit his lips, nervously.

‘Don’t think that she has done it for you!’.

“Good! I can give you a proper education on cinematographic masterpieces”.

They both erupted in an awkward laugh, but then she moved closer to him, sitting down beside him on his bed.

That was the closest he had ever come to a woman.

“… I was hoping… but maybe… I got it all wrong…” she stammered through her words “… but I really like spending time with you, and it makes me feel normal…”.

He looked at her as if she was revealing him some universal truth.

“… and that isn’t something that many people have made me feel like…I always… I’d just like to maybe get to know you more than simply for your favorite movies…”.

That still didn’t mean anything.

“Ok” he mumbled “… but we can do it over emails”.

She looked up at the roof of the room, as if she was exasperated that he wasn’t simply getting it.

And finally, she smashed her lips against his.

And his body was definitely faster than his mind, gently bringing him closer as their mouths met again and again, till they were breathless, but she still uttered.

“Can you do that through emails?”.

Five years later, a crown on her head and a ring on her fingers, Ivar was standing at the other end of a big altar in a meek and private church of your native country.

It wasn’t exactly private, if he thought about all the cameras carefully set up everywhere to broadcast the royal wedding live.

But he had married a princess.

So, what could he have truly expected?

His princess had stayed in America for a year, before being called back to your country, but Ivar had moved back to your native country with her, having converted his degree into one that could be followed online.

Except that he hadn’t much to leave behind, starting a great adventure, with her.

His brothers? They would have been fine without him, even better.

His grudge against Lagertha? He could still operate better from another country.

Floki? He, himself, had told him to move the fuck away and get himself the princess.

In the end, there wasn’t anything holding him back and certainly his mother would have just approved.

She would have greatly approved his princess.

Who didn’t approve of this marriage was… her father.

He hadn’t said much when she had come back with a common boy, even more… a cripple.

But he hadn��t been truly problematic till you had mentioned your willingness to marry Ivar, after he had asked you the faithful question.

He hadn’t expected your father’s resistance, although he should have predicted it.

But in a few days the question had moved from a simple ‘no’, to a question of power and dynasty, since her father had stopped her from legally marrying Ivar.

And then she had told him that if he did forbid her from marrying Ivar, she would have gladly forsaken the crown.

Ivar had then told her to just forget about him, almost booked his travel back to America with a heavy heart, but he had thought to make the right choice, the brave one.

And the following day he had found her with her suitcase done and a ticket back to America, with him.

Then her father had started seeing the light, even more because her brothers, who teased Ivar endlessly, had pushed back their own right to the crown, forsaking it, if she ended up being dethroned.

And in the end her father had allowed the wedding.

‘You’ll regret it’ had mumbled her father but she had just smiled.

And Ivar now felt horridly stuck between two fires.

At unease in his elegant designer suit, as Helga held him close, since she had insisted on supporting him, alongside Floki and his brothers, who had come there for it, meeting his soon-to-be-bride a few days before the wedding.

It was useless to say they had all been impressed.

Although his family was more wanted by her, than actually him.

It just made him feel more nervous.

And he had to admit that he had been having a bad case of cold feet since the previous night.

It just…

He wasn’t used to be under the scrutiny of thousands of thousands of people.

They were probably thinking ‘look at this idiotic princess, falling in love with a cripple with anger issues’.

And then she walked in, hand in hand with her father.

He knew that she’d wear something that would look amazingly on her, some tulle atrocity, but in the end, it turned to be even more stunning than he had thought.

The dress didn’t make her seem like a cake, but instead elegantly slid down her body in a long and elegant trail, decorated with trims of lace that hid her face.

But he could still see her energetic smile.

Her honest smile.

And the cold feet melted with the floor under them, as he smiled right back at her, sure of what was going to happen.

Sure, that he wanted this royal wedding.

As she came by his side, silence following him, he finally breathed.

Loudly.

Making her laugh lightly, as she joined their hands, although it wasn’t protocol.

But when had she ever cared about it?

“We are here reunited to join princess (Y/N) of (N/C) and Ivar Lothbrock for the prosperity of the reign”.

Ivar couldn’t listen anymore to judge of peace you had chosen, since Ivar wasn’t catholic, another break in the protocol.

And he did another, as he gently whispered in your hear.

‘You are lovelier now than you have ever been’.

“Don’t be corny” she mumbled keeping her head straighter, as she faked listening to judge.

“I was just quoting Notting Hill” he replied, pouting lightly and faking of being perfectly still for the camera.

“After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her” she retorted, and he cracked up a light laugh.

“Will you leave the ‘don’t put baby in a corner’ for the vows?” he joked, gaining an enormous side-eye by his father-in-law.

“Just you wait, prince Ivar, just you wait”.

---

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