Neighborhoodparker - The End Of The Line

I actually like it when ships hurt each other in long lasting and unforgiveable ways. I like it when they leave vicious, glaring scars. I like when they leave traumas. I like when they stab each other and torture each other and ruin each other’s lives and violate every inch of each other’s values. and I like it when they fucking kill each other permanently dead. 

khonsu: BE MY AVATAR OR PERISH!

Taweret: So, anyway, I made you this special costume so you can fight the baddies. I did my best so I hope you like it, you’re gonna look so beautiful on this…

jeez khonsu, I wonder why no one wants to be your avatar

Book: None!

Word count: 939

Summary: Draco and Isobel find a moment of solitude. 

Drabble, Cut Scene, or Request: Very short request from my best friend.

They had taken a moment to escape from the annual ball of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, needing to get away even for a second from the strict views of the committed Death Eaters and their children. Draco, in his moment of craving to get away, had pulled Isobel out of his parents’ ballroom and up to his own room. It had been almost an instant reaction for one to charm the door shut, while the other placed a spell around the room to make it impossible for anyone else to listen in.

The smile that Isobel offered him, one of relief and unadulterated happiness, almost made him weak at the knees. When she smiled, it reminded him of the sun peaking through the dreary storm clouds - a glimpse of better days that he knew they could get to. And he loved being able to bask in her light, taking in her warmth and allowing it to let him give a soft smile back.

And it’s almost like she can tell how scared he is. She can almost instantly read his tense posture and see through his badly pieced together facade. She moved almost instantly to turn on the radio he had in his room, letting the soft sounds of lullaby-esque music to flow throughout his cleaned bedroom. The way she offers him her hand makes his heart skip a beat, and he forgets for a moment. He forgets about the gathering going on downstairs, forgets about the war lingering on the horizon, forgets about how they will never truly be able to make their own choices. instead, he focuses on gently pulling her against his body - one arm wrapping around her waist as the other alters his grip on her hand. He slowly begins to sway them to the music, appreciating the way her hair sways with them - falling down her back in soft curls.

She looked beautiful. She always did, in his opinion, but tonight she seemed to be even more radiant. Her slight curves were being hugged by an emerald green dress, bringing out the speckles of green in her irises. The color, he thought, suited her perfectly. But he imagined, for a tiny moment, the way she might one day look in a stunning ivory dress that she would carefully pick out. The thought that she would someday belong to someone else hurt him, wounded him deeply, but just to see her in a dress that color would be an honor. Whoever her father betrothed her to wouldn’t be anywhere near worthy enough for her. She was one in a hundred million, a comet streaking so fast past the earth that he was scared he would miss her if he took his eyes off of her for even a second. She was the type of person that men prayed to be with, that any man would be lucky enough to one day call her his wife.

He took a second and let go of her waist, using their interlaced hands to twirl her away from him. The giggle it incited from her made his heart skip a beat, his smile lighting up his face. That was one of his favorite sounds, aside from - perhaps - her soft singing or when she would read to him or even when she would hold conversations with him. Here, in his room, was the only place he yearned to be. With her, dancing to a song he hadn’t heard since he was a child. The moment was perfect to him; life couldn’t get much better. 

He pulled her back to him, heart warming at the soft blush on her cheeks and the adoration twinkling in her bright eyes. She was so full of light, of hope, and he was soaking in every second that he could. Because he knew they would have to leave and go back to the others, to act like this secret moment between them hadn’t taken place. And so he twirled her again, yearning to hear the sound of her laughing, and then he pulled her into a gentle dip, eyes gleaming with happiness. Here, in this moment, she was all his - only his, and that was all he had ever wanted. It was all he knew he would ever need, especially to get through this rocky life he had been given. 

The way she looked, her hair flowing behind her as she smiled brightly at him, made him want to risk everything. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and ask her to run away, to go off and live a life together - away from their families, the impending war, the Dark Lord. He wanted to risk everything to keep her looking this happy, to help preserve the way she was shining. He wanted to risk their friendship, risk years of memories and love and happiness, and try for something more. All he wanted was for her to be his, but he was afraid that she might not feel the same way.

He pulled her close to him again, heart starting to pull with the weight of what they would be thrown back into when they left his room. And he almost asked her to stay, to help him pack before they would sneak off to her house, to help her pack, and then to run away. It took everything in him not to plead with her to do so. Instead, he gently cupped her cheeks in his hands as the song began to slow to an end, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before he turned to lead them both back downstairs.

Book: Novitious

Word count: 2,191

Summary: Cedric dies. Cho wasn’t the one dating him.

Drabble, Cut Scene, or Request: Drabble! A version of this may potentially be seen in the books.

She felt like she had been sitting here for hours. The sleek wood seat underneath her rear had grown uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that no matter how much she shifted she was unable to find peace in her lower back and thighs. At this point, she was nearly ready to burst out of her own skin - her whole body was trembling in anxiousness for Cedric, her Cedric. Amos had long ago given up on trying to comfort the young girl. Instead, he had his own worry plastered across his body - shown in the way his right leg continuously brushed up and down against her left, shown in the worn fingernails he had started chewing on, shown in the way his eyes continuously raked across the hedge mass that filled what was once the Quidditch pitch. 

Cedric’s favorite sweater had been pulled over her small frame before they had left the Hufflepuff dormitories to come to the pitch. It was a little big for her, as the sleeves fell past her hands and the left shoulder had slipped down to reveal some of her bare skin. She also had his most favorite, well-worn scarf curled loosely around her neck; he had given it to her as an extra way to keep her calm. The way his scent engulfed her from the clothes did take an edge off of her consuming anxiety, but it didn’t stop her body from shaking uncontrollably. She knew that something was wrong. Her gut was continuously twisting in on itself, making her feel nauseous and light-headed. She swore her heart was beating millions of beats per minute - she almost felt sick from how hot her skin was growing. In an effort to cook herself down, she shoved the sleeves up to her elbows. Her eyes made contact with Amos as she looked at him for the billionth time in the past ten minutes alone.

“He’ll be okay.” Amos whispered, offering her a shaky smile.

She wasn’t sure if he entirely believed the words he was saying to her. His whole posture screamed unease, and the glistening in his eyes was telling her that he felt the same undeniable sense of horror bubbling very deep within his bones. She took a deep, soft breath before forcing herself to return the smile. It felt awkward and out of place on her lips; she knew now wasn’t the time for such pleasantries. She shifted once more, leaning her right side into Neville’s left. He offered her a quick squeeze of her opposing shoulder, but his eyes were transfixed on the hedge looming in front of them. She had to assume the reason she was so anxious was because of everyone around her. Her empathic tendencies were making it way worse than it needed to be. Cedric would be fine. She didn’t think Dumbledore would want to risk losing someone so kind, so good, so strong. He would want him when the war she knew was on the horizon finally collapsed upon their reality. 

Her hand found Neville’s, lacing their fingers together. She had been continuously going back and forth between holding his hand, leaning against him for comfort - and offering her own shoulder for Amos to briefly lean against as new waves of anxiety drowned over him. She had lost track of where her boyfriend was in the maze a while ago; if she was asked, she wouldn’t be able to tell how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity since he and Harry had disappeared within the misshapen claws of the final Triwizard Tournament task. 

After she had grasped his hand, trying not to hold it too tightly, she managed to steal a glance of two forms appearing outside of the maze. Her view was then obscured by the sudden movement of everyone around her; their various builds jumping to their feet in lieu of celebratory noises. The music began to play, but she couldn’t fight the panic that began to build in her chest. It bubbled quickly. It simply started around her heart as it constricted, inching down inside her before it slammed into her lungs - taking all air out of her body as her diaphragm was soon swallowed by what she could only recognize as dread. It quickly spread after, making every inch of her body feel numb. She was caught off-guard; she wasn’t sure why she was experiencing such hysteria. Another deep breath filled her lungs as she noticed Amos was trying to get through the horde that kept him stuck by his seat.

Her body went to follow, but was quickly pulled to a halt. Neville was gripping her hand in a fashion that almost hurt. She met his eyes with confusion - he was filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place, like it was a mixture. Dumbledore was yelling at Harry in the background. Every sound made it clear to her that she had been shoved under water, that she was on the verge of drowning in something she hadn’t yet discovered. She realized, with shock, that the emotions he was showing were a mixture of fear, sorrow, and distress. He discovered something she didn’t. Her eyebrows furrowed as she went to follow Amos again and his grip tightened, preventing her from moving.

“Nev, are you crazy? Let me go,” She tugged her arm. “Cedric’s there.”

“Isobel, you can’t go down there.” He stated.

“Neville, let me go.” She pulled against him again, starting to give him a glare.

“Is…” He trailed off.

“Neville. Let. Me. Go.” She demanded. 

Her attention was drawn away from him for a split second, allowing her to see as the crowd around her paused - almost as if they were all involuntarily holding in the same exact breath. He seemed to grip even tighter on her wrist - and she cried out in response. He was trying to keep her from seeing something traumatizing, but was hurting her in the process. She could almost feel the regret of it oozing out of his body. 

“You’re hurting me.” She almost growled, starting to become hysteric as she tried to pull away from him. ”Neville, please let go.”

He refused, but it didn’t matter. In the next second, screams from Amos were filling the air - letting everyone know his anguish in something that had to do with his son. She slammed her foot against Neville’s groin without even thinking. She jerked her hand back as he doubled over in pain but she didn’t stay to make sure he was okay. Her body moved on it’s own as she shoved through the crowd, pushing and shoving to get down the stands, down to where she had briefly seen the outline of Cedric and Harry. 

Someone was calling her name. She couldn’t tell who it was in her state of pure alarm, but if she had glanced back she would have seen Neville moving to grasp Draco’s arm - to hold him back from running to her. It was difficult to get through the mass of students, almost like they were all attempting to block her from getting down to the Diggorys. She could hear the older man sobbing, and she knew that the feeling she had in her gut since she had said goodbye to him wasn’t a mistake. Something awful, terrible, wretched had happened out in the maze. 

She finally broke through the horde, and all anyone could hear was a loud, awful, gut-wrenching shriek. Laying there, in his father’s arms, was the first person she had really loved with her whole heart. And he was pale. Lifeless. His eyes stared blankly at the sheet of stars above him, his chest giving no movement. His father was clinging to him like he was the only thing still anchoring him to the world. The grief she felt yanked her forward; it made her legs collapse, her lungs stall, her eyes widened. She was caught by the rough embrace of someone - nearly taking both of them down to the ground with the blunt force of her anguish. She barely recognized that it was Harry as he pulled her into his chest. He tried to hide her from the heart-breaking sight in front of her - even though he knew it would forever be etched in her mind.

Suddenly she was seven years old again, breaking as Draco’s arms held her. Suddenly, she was back in the home she hadn’t seen in months - back in the manor that she had lost so much of her childhood to. Draco was holding her tightly, almost like he was scared she would sink through the floor and disappear if he didn’t try to hold all of her pieces together. Suddenly, it was her mother splayed out on the marble floor, her spiritless body outlined by a growing crimson puddle. She wasn’t fifteen, collapsed on the field of a Quidditch pitch in the arms of Harry. She was at home, witnessing the cruelty of her father; witnessing her world crashing down around her. She was experiencing a pain she thought nothing could ever beat. Her sobs were filling the large foyer of her father’s home, echoing throughout the empty space that was just so previously filled with screams from her mother, that was filled with Draco begging her to stay back with him. 

And it didn’t matter if she was fifteen or seven. Because her heart broke all the same. The pain in her chest was immense, vast, monumental. It engulfed her. Her heart had been seized out of her chest and thrown at the ground, just before it was stomped, crushed, pulverized underneath the cruel heel of life. She shattered as her brain filtered through a long list of everything she would never get to see through with Cedric, filtered through the myriad of things his father would never live to see, filtered through the life they one day could have had. And she was that fifteen year old collapsed on the pitch. She was the fifteen year old girl struggling to stay afloat as her grief threatened to drown her. She was the fifteen year old girl who had just lost the one thing that had seen her through her darkest moments. 

There she was, wishing the same blond-haired boy was there holding her as her whole world churned, tumbled, disintegrated. But she had a brown-haired boy instead, one with uncontrollable locks and teary eyes hidden behind crooked frames. She took what she was given, accepted that she had lost that blond-haired boy two years ago, accepted that she had Harry. She forced her hands to relieve their tight grip on his jersey before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as he hugged her tightly to his shaking form. He was crying right along with her and she wanted to help him, wanted to comfort him and reassure him that everything would eventually be okay. But she didn’t want to lie to him, she couldn’t. She didn’t believe that they would be okay again. Cedric was a loss to the Wizarding World. He was a loss that she didn’t know that she could bounce back from, that anyone could bounce back from. He was a lively, beautiful soul that had offered her a safe haven - he had given so many people hope that things would turn out okay. 

Instead, Harry was here - comforting the girl who was always there for other people. It broke her even more to think of how she was failing to help those she loved, but she couldn’t calm herself down enough to help him out. Her chest was still heaving with panic and, though the tears had stopped, her shoulders still shook from the force of now silent sobs. She was terrified that he would let her go, that he would help her back to her dorm and leave her alone. She didn’t want to be left alone; she hadn’t been since she had first met Cedric, since she had moved in with Sirius. She couldn’t handle this loss. She didn’t know what would happen if she was left alone. 

“Harry, do you think you could carry her? Let’s clear the area. We’ve already got most of the audience out.” A rough, cracking voice spoke up - pulling her attention away from her screeching thoughts.

She only moved to cling more securely to Harry, squeezing her eyes closed as the owner of the voice pulled them off the ground. She didn’t want to get another glimpse of Cedric. It was already carved into her brain. It took her far too long to process that the voice belonged to Mad-Eye Moody, but she didn’t care. She was more worried that Harry would decide she was okay alone and would leave her. Even so, she was more worried about the feeling of dread growing once again in her stomach. It was almost unsaid between the two of them that they knew that Cedric’s death marked the beginning of the war. This would only be the first of many deaths that would completely alter her existence.

Choose your fighter partner

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Never speak to me or my 452 unread books again

The Weight of The World

Summary:

You are special. You’ve always known this, it’s always been a fact. The first time you found that out you were six. You discovered during a grueling night at home that you could sense the present, past, or future physical and emotional states of other people. You are clairsentient. Yearning to use your power to its full potential, you become a doctor. You haven’t always had it easy and you seem to get a lot more on your plate when Tony Stark bursts through the ER doors late one night with his best friend on a stretcher behind him. Did you know that one man could suffer so greatly?

Chapters:

Prologue (coming soon)

Extra Scenes:

Inspired Works:

Loki season 2 this, I Am Groot season 2 that. When does my son Moon Knight come home from the war, huh? What about that?

My Stranger things 4 controversial opinion...

Eddie and Steve have the potential to be what harringrove could have never had (because Eddie is essentially what a lot of people wanted/imagined Billy to be)

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