PT |

;; ' its so painful. '

HorrorFell Boys- Deal gone bad. When food started going scarce, they went into the 'meat' trading business, but refused to do business with Undyne and the Capital. Pissed about this, they set up a trap. Splitting the brothers so only Condor showed. Anubis realized and got to the warehouse to find his brother was alive again and everyone else was dusted. Anubis later gets his wound from Undyne herself.

they are the most sane of the Horror groups.

HorrorSwap Boys- When famine started setting in, Scientist Undyne suggested Maned knew stuff. But Maned (as Fox) is a shut in, anxieties far too high specially now with everyone hungry. Cuckoo was part of the Royal Guard and despite what Queen Alphys wanted, he sort of... ignored the problem. Wouldn't bring Maned in, but wasn't stopping anyone. Royal Guards went to their home and dragged Maned in, bashing his skull open and taking his eye. Cuckoo saw their home was wrecked, rushed to the palace in time to see Undyne holding the eye.

Cuckoo snapped and dusted all but Queen Alphys. Taking Undyne's eye and giving it to Maned. He fiercely defends Maned now, and Maned is... not himself. He doesn't feel anymore.

HorrorSwapFell- Queen Alphys killed Toriel without knowing she would need keywords to control Hound, so he left to protect his brother. Both hid even as Famine rolled into the Underground. Hound (Now Grim) knew both would be in danger from the Royal Guard and new Queen. While Grim was out hunting, Raven was found and dragged to the Castle. they needed Grim's eye for the Core, but decided to test one of Raven's. Didn't work, so to entice Grim to get his ass there faster, Raven... suffered. A lot. When Grim got through the guards he found his brother smiling, having cracked under the pain.

Grim gave up his eye willingly, and of course instead of releasing the brothers, Queen Alphys demanded their deaths. Raven managed to gift Grim his last eye, and Grimm slaughtered the guards and Alphys.

Grim now wears his brother's old scarf to blind himself. Without it, both can see through the eye and suffer pains while doing so. Raven can't speak above a whisper and is much like Maned now, but he can only feel happy. Empty, cold joy that could feed Shattered for ages. He can't see unless Grim is using their eye.

EDIT- NO I DIDN'T FORGET RINGO'S A HORROR....

HorrorFellSwap- The DT in Robin and Dingo's souls won't let them die. So they became an amalgamate... Robin screamed for *days* after getting stuck to his brother, leaving him mostly voiceless. He's slowly become more like Dingo, having been forced to feel real care for others.

A/N: I guess this is thanks for the warm welcome to your server? Akko-centric angst? @blee-bleep I saw one of your posts, haha.

Wait… doesn’t Akko get bullied in canon?

Also, to everyone else in the server who sees this, I don’t quite know your preferences for a fic, but hmu some time haha

Sorry for feeding you some subpar writing owo

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 [I hate you.]

You mentally say to the girl in the mirror. Her hair is tussled, deep brown stained with the same bitter red on her fresh white shirt.

[I hate you.]

You tell the short teen, bags under her eyes, maybe from the lack of sleep. She looks pale, ugly. So ugly.

[I hate you.]

She looks like she hasn’t eaten in days, even though she binged full tubs of ice-cream, and stuffed a few cakes in barely three hours ago. All of them had gone to waste anyway. Trash bins, toilets, sometimes the woods. Perfect for throwing away stuff you don’t need. Or well… throwing up stuff you don’t need. In your body.

[I hate you.]

Through the reflective material allows her glimpses of stacks of papers marred red with E’s and F’s, and some barely passing grades, and that single A from language class.

At least professor Pisces seemed to appreciate her, that girl. Someone had to. Because you hated the girl in the mirror.

What a fool, what an idiot. How stupid, how dumb.

[I hate you.]

(This is part of a snarry story I’ve been imagining for a while. I don’t know which chapter it is, I don’t know the exact context, so just take the scene. It features Harry in Marauder era after SWM I reckon. @snapetober)

"There."

It was a square wooden table with two chairs only, hidden between two walls of books and next to a big window over the grounds of Hogwarts. Severus took a chair, and so did Harry, after which their books were laid between them and they began to work in silence.

It was winter, and the days were ending soon. At 6 pm, the outskirts of the castle were plunged in the dark, even though the library was still opened. It was calm except for the students’ hushed muttering, the rustle of pages, the sounds of books being opened or closed or taken or accidently dropped, the click-click-click of Ms Pince’s boot heels along the corridors, and the soothing scratching sound of Severus’ quill on the parchment. The torches were sending a beautiful orange hue that spoke secret and mystery of the big and ancient castle library, drawing shadows, and warming his heart. It was in those convivial nights in the calm of the dim light that he felt most at home.

When Harry looked at the window, he first saw his own reflection staring back, and he had to approach it to see the grounds plunged in dark blue night. The moon was gibbeon, not powerful enough this night to enlight Hogwarts with its thick forest not so far away. If he turned his head though, and cleaned the fog of his breath upon the glass with his sweater’s sleeve, he could see it appearing on the glimmering ripples of the Lake. He tried to press his nose more, flattening his brow and cheek against the cool, humid glass, but he could not see any farther.

"Your brain is not there I fear."

"I told you to stop with the condescending."

Severus flushed.

"Wh... What are you looking for?"

"An ass. Luckily I’ve got the biggest one in front of me, I’d be blind not to see it. Especially when this ass visibly requires all my attention."

Silence ensued. Harry felt the irresistible pull of curiosity urging him to look at Russ. When his eyes fell on him, he snorted loudly.

"I wasn’t serious!" Harry said between his chuckles. He finished a round in his hand, and started another when he looked again. Severus’ face was frozen in mild shock, blanched, eyes popping out and mouth slightly open, sending him a bewildered stare. He looked so innocent at that moment, Harry couldn’t help himself. After a while, Severus closed his mouth and regained his composure. Harry fought to do so.

Whether he was conscious of it or not, Russ was cocking his head to the side slightly, a soft and unsure expression on his sallow features. As he looked down where he had joined his hands on the table, the hardness of Snape’s ice flickered on his face, and for a moment Harry was worried. Severus hated to be laughed at. It was perhaps too soon for Harry to do so without scaring him like this.

It wasn’t something he was used to—but after all, he’d had learned a lot these last months, and as such he was willing to make the effort to adapt.

"That wasn’t against you, Severus," he whispered confidently, looking straight into his eyes. "I laughed but not at you, not in that way. I’m not ill-intentioned."

His friend seemed to be having a hard time believing so. He had spent years being laughed at by Lily before she set him aside for the bigger prize, why shouldn’t he expect the same from her son?

"I’m sorry," he added.

At that Russ reacted. Of course. Whenever Severus had been vexed to be laughed at, and expressed how he’d prefer not to be, had Lily ever apologized? Or had she told him to grow up and stop being a crybaby just because she laughed at how ridiculous he was?

(And of course the opposite wasn’t allowed.)

Harry had seen it all.

Severus didn’t let him develop though.

"No. It’s... nothing, I’m fine, what do you think? I’m not weak. I don’t care if you laugh at me. It’s nothing. It’s not worth my time. If you want to—"

"Severus, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—"

Harry didn’t know what to say.

"I shouldn’t have laughed like that. It was silly, it was stupid. I’ll try to do better."

Harry couldn’t say more. He hoped it was enough. There was a very long silence stretched between them. Finally, it was Severus who murmured, less to Harry than to himself.

"I don’t understand."

He crossed the arms on his scrawny chest, angular shoulders painfully jutting out. His eyes bore into Harry’s, something intense vibrating there. The more they waited, the more they seemed to settle in some sort of determination. Suddenly it was Harry who felt unsure.

"Tell me Potter," he began, voice heavy with defiance. "I’ve been wondering for quite a while... I hadn’t expected to be talking about this today, while working, but it must be the time...

"Since the day you saw me—that you saw what they were doing, you decided to hang out with me rather than following your dear family... In fact, you did—all this—where many others wouldn’t... And so I wondered if finally I had found a true friend. But perhaps I am mistaken..."

It was not fun. It was not fun at all, for Harry, to hear this. He knew too well what would come. Professor Snape hadn’t flourished out of nowhere, he reckoned. He loved Severus—as a friend of course—and the line between what was Snape and what was Severus was blurring over time. He enjoyed the cutting sarcasm, as it was mostly meant to be funny, he enjoyed Severus’ witty cracks at people, though they were scarcely used to bully (for the moment). He’d understood it as Russ’ twisted side of humour, and as such he didn’t mind it when it was turned against him. More often that not it was teasing and offered opportunities to return the favor.

He knew now what were the true signs of Severus’ stress limit being reached—like how he’d tighten the pans of his cloak around him like an awkward big bat feeling unsafe. He knew when the argument was coming.

Despite of it all, no matter how he knew Severus couldn’t help the anxiety, he wished he could just slap some sense into him.

What followed only reinforced this sentiment.

"Why would you stay friends with me if not for something, ey, Harry? Why would you do this?"

He was lost for words. Severus’ glare hardened, merciless.

"Is your self-worth so minimal you’d be willing to stay friends with the joke of—th—the—with a Death Eater, rather than—"

"You’re not a Death Eater."

"A Death Eater," Severus repeated louder, "because you’ve nobody else to clutch yourself upon? Or are you that desperate to save someone you’re willing to screw up your entire life?"

He bent on the table, laid his hands on the surface softly, and there was only a slit to his eyes now.

"Does it make you feel important, Potter? Does it make you feel superior—special, to be friends with the poor and the pathetic?"

These words were hateful, and effectively triggered Harry’s anger. His fingers were curling on the sides of his chair, and his face began to close down. Severus smiled horribly, baring his crooked teeth for a more lasting impression.

"Does it feel good to be a Gryffindor hero, like you thought your dear father was?"

"What’s your point Snape?"

"Mainly," he replied while sitting straight back, "what’s your goal? What are you expecting out of this friendship? So I can put an end to this sooner and... free you of your obligations."

Oh, Harry understood. He understood everything that was happening right now. And he hated it.

"You’re a fucking jerk sometimes, you know that?"

"Yes I am."

"What do you think? That I’m spying on you or something? Staying friends with you just so I could laugh at you? That I’m—what? What do you want me to do?"

"Quit the pretending."

"I’m not fucking pretending Snape!" Harry shouted.

The library rang with silence, and then there was the inevitable sound of heels walking fast on them. He almost expected the other students in the library to come and thrust their heads between the bookshleves to have a good look on their show. Ms Pince’s figure appeared but Harry didn’t let her speak.

"I’m sorry Madam, I didn’t mean to shout, I won’t do it again, but please do not scream louder than a banshee. If you want us to leave, just tell us calmly and we’ll go."

It angered her—not as much as Harry was angered however, and she seemed to understand that.

"If there’s a problem boys, deal with it outside."

They nodded. She departed. Harry threw a Muffliato after her—and a Notice-Me-Not while he was at it—before jerking back to glare at Snape.

"You think I have time for that bullshit? That I’m just pretending?! Oh, why not just call me a hypocrite?!"

"Alright then, you’re a hypo—"

"I’m not pretending you idiot!" Harry said, noticing how Severus was clutching his black robes tighter around his form, and the imperceptible way he shrunk on himself was not lost on him. "You think I’m going to give up on you, is that it?"

Severus stayed silent.

"Am I right?!"

"You will."

"Ah!" Harry scoffed.

"You will, I assure you! I’m not like your Granger or your Weasel friends (Harry fliched at the name) that you had before—I’m not them, and I won’t ever be. You’ll see soon enough how much different we are. Or have you noticed already?"

"I have, don’t worry about it."

"So then—you should just stop. We should stop—"

"Yeah, so that in a few hours you will be kicking yourself for having sent me away when you could just enjoy hanging out with me. I know you that much."

"I—"

"You’ve been calling me pathetic, Snape, but aren’t you pathetic for trying to shut me out just because your best friend has? Are you afraid? Are you a coward, by any chance, willing to cut down all your friendships because you lost one and—oh, let me guess—you don’t think yourself worthy of love anymore?"

Oh, he had struck well. He saw it on Snape’s tightening lips and flushing cheeks. Harry scoffed under his nose.

"I don’t need your pity, Potter," Snape snarled icily.

"I thought you were clever, Snape. I thought you knew the difference between pity and genuine liking."

Harry’s anger was probbing him to add, 'but I realize your friends regarded you with pity for so long you can’t tell the difference anymore', however he shook the thought out of his mind. It was not the time to get mean unecessarily.

"Just to be clear then, as it hasn’t been for you—this is not pity Snape, this is genuine, let that be etched in your brain for the future."

The jittery teen in front of him was tensed, like a Longbottom before entering the Potions classroom, and he could just distinguish the fine tremors running down his back. He was looking away, out where the other students were working peacefully, as though pondering whether he should make a retreat. He refused to meet Harry’s eyes back. After a minute or two of this odd scene, Harry sighed and put his quill down.

"Just calm down Russ. I’m not here to play a prank on you. I wasn’t—sent by them to steal information and blackmail you with it, or humiliate you, or rejoice in your pain, or any of that crap. You know they’re not that smart," he said with a smile as he pointed a finger to his temple, "and anyway, no offense, but they’ve been doing a pretty good job of beating the shit out of you thus far, why would they want to change tactic if there’s no need?"

Severus frowned, focusing.

"Nevermind, forget what I said..." Harry had forgotten for a moment that anything he told Snape could be worked out like crazy in that brain of his, and right now he was probably searching for clues Harry was bluffing, and to what extent. He rubbed his face, tired despite the early hour.

"Just know that..." He tightened his lips. "That I’m not that kind of person, and that if I was lying, you’d be the first to know. I’m not good at putting all an act. I told you. I’m not a... real Slytherin. Okay? Now let’s get back to work."

'And for once I’m the one saying it,’ Harry’s mind added bitterly. 'I’m not done for this shit.'

Severus seemed to accept this after a few moments of stillness, and he nodded curtly. He disentangled his frail arms from the armpits, turned to look at the essay before him. He hesitated before his posture hardened—as it always tried to lately—before taking the quill between his fingers and bending back over the parchement, hair slowly falling back to shield his face from the world, one oily lock after the other.

They proceeded with the habitual scratching of quills over paper and Harry’s struggle to remain concentrated and motivated more than five seconds after reading a title—of a chapter, a book or a question, it did not matter—and it was late into the night before Snape closed his last book and joined Harry to leave the long-emptied library. The corridors were dark, silent, if you did not count their hurried walk, as it was soon going to be curfew. Before they entered their dormitory though, Harry had a question that had been pressing on his mind.

"Severus, how hard is it to imagine that I just—like to be friends with you?"

He didn’t respond, as Harry had expected. He shrugged the silence away.

"I’m going to be honest with you, Russ. I’m wiling to stay friends, but you’re not making it easy. So quit putting my honesty in question like this," he said with a side-glance, "and next time you feel like throwing a brick at me like that, just—just—I don’t know—ask for tea time with Hagrid and talk with him, whatever. He knows us enough."

They were in front of the entrance to their common room now. He waited for a reaction on Russ’ part.

"Okay?"

Nothing came. Severus was staring stubbornly at the wall, in other words, ignoring Harry purposefully. So he threw his arms in the air in utter exasperation, and let them flop noisely on his sides.

"You good now?"

"Yes," was Russ’ cold reply.

"No urge to throw me out of your life?"

"No."

"Good. Now let’s get back inside."

They soon plopped on their beds, tunned down the lights, and tried to fight the daily insomnia.

It was a good two hours before guilt definitely wove its way into Harry’s heart. In front of Severus’ obvious (yet silent) hurt, he felt the need to apologize for his angry outburst. He pushed it away, because they both had been angry, they both had been hurt, they both said horrible things, and they both suffered from the same thing.

Fear.

Fear of the other, written into Severus’ every cell.

Fear that’d lead him to more, a perfect ingredient for the vicious circle of loneliness.

Russ was like an animal who’d been beaten once too many times—or more like, a hundred too many times, considering. He was a dog who had long chosen to bite back, a cat burned with hot water and now fearing the gentle rain—he was locked in the irrational wish to be left alone because they’d all taught him that being seen meant being hurt.

Severus was right. He wasn’t Ron nor Hermione.

They hadn’t lived what he’d lived.

It was just like a disabled person, really. For now, their friendship had the level of a difficult commitment. Harry didn’t have to do that. Harry didn’t have to spend his time with such a complicated friend.

But if not for him, who would stay alongside the Prince before he fell?

He knew whom.

Nobody.

Nobody who cared about him.

Death Eaters weren’t friends, let alone with the flithy blooded. Lily was out of the question. As for the professors... he wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t the only time adults had betrayed Harry, it was only natural they’d do the same as for the unpopular Slytherin.

The staff ignored the daily torment in favour of their own pleasure.

He wondered how McGonagall and Dumbledore had lived with that on their conscience.

He tightened his grip on the innocent blankets of his bed.

Oh, how foreign it felt to be ignored by the mighty Albus Dumbledore.

__________

Harry hadn’t expected Severus to take him seriously on his last advice. He was proven very wrong.

And who knew Hagrid could be such an attentive counselor?

Hagrid had the sense of mind, one afternoon, to throw the Cloak over Harry when a knock was heard from the door, signing him to stay quiet, and stomping—despite himself—to open the entrance to the hut. A dark figure entered, to whom Hagrid indicated the side of his enormous bed. The giant closed the door then walked to pinch the black hood and gently pull it down. It was only then that Harry recognized Severus. Hagrid thrust a bucket of scalding tea between the teen’s hands (cups couldn’t resist the giant’s natural strength), sat on a chair looking slightly away, started knitting. Minutes passed as Severus warmed up with the drink, seemingly pondering whether it was a good idea to talk or not.

"So, what happened Sev’rus?," Hagrid said. "Som’thing ‘bout the boys ov’r there?"

"No..."

The Slytherin was bending so far it hurt to look at. Harry, who’d sat in the corner of the room, straigthened his back in empathy. Severus rolled the huge mug between his spidery fingers, his eyes half closed with the purple of the hexes and insomnia. And finally, he spoke.

Harry felt guilty to spy on his friend’s confessions. But he had to admit... it was precious information to understand Severus. Soon enough came the event in the library.

It wasn’t everyday... that Severus confessed such vulnerability.

Because there was no other name to it.

"It‘s torture to be friends with him... I’m always... expecting him to abandon me at any moment. I know it’s shameful and stupid, to think that, but... It‘s hard to wonder everyday, every time I talk to him, what mistake I’ll do that will put an end to all this.

"I wished for a real best friend so hard, I just cannot believe it will last.

(Thank you all for inspiring me to continue this💓 sorry it’s so late)

Lance POV——————-

Keith’s a horrible liar. When he said he saw no one I knew something was up so I shouldn’t feel guilty for lying to him. That’s what I told myself.

Instead of sleeping in, I got up right away and went to the main room to look at the screen. What actually happened. I walked in and stopped hiding behind a wall when I heard yelling. What was going on??

“Go, go to him and tell him what you did, but first I want you to pull up the footage from yesterday. I want you both to look at yourselves and see what you said. See what happened to Lance after you left” I heard Keith yell angerier then I ever have.

What was going on it wasn’t Pidge or Hunks fault for gods sake. I almost revealed myself right then and there to tell Keith to stop yelling at them when I took a glimpse at their faces. Pidge looked- sad? And Hunk. Oh my god Hunk was crying. What was happening?

Keith stormed away towards our- his. His room. When did I start thinking it was ours? Not the time Lance, focus. I wait for Pidge and Hunk to leave before sneaking out and looking and the tape for myself. My mouth falls open as I see Pidge and Hunk do that to me and leave. Leaving me all alone. In there. Trapped. I left my family back on Earth but recently with them I thought I had made a new one. I guess I was wrong.

A small noise escapes me when I feel something wet on my check realizing it’s my own tear. When did I start crying? I continue watching and expect to see Keith come barging into the airlock. But instead Keith’s at the panel? He was shaking. I see him run to me and comfort me. Hugging me like both of our lives depend on it. I’m sobbing now not bothering to wipe my tears. My feelings a mess. Pidge and Hunk, the two people who I trust. Trusted the most betrayed me in a way I don’t know when I’ll be able to forgive them. Keith was there for me. He was there.

I almost stop watching when I remember Keith saw the video this morning. I skip ahead to that and pause the video. Keith’s eyes are widened in the frame in panick. Surprise and worry both are shown on his face. After watching the video he storms off in another direction. I feel horrible for watching him but it was about me? So my curiosity gets the best of me. I figured he would go fight in the training room or come back to sleep but I freeze when I see him turn into the room Pidge and Hunk were in. I wipe my blurred eyes with my long sleeves and continue watching.

———————————-

Hey, I’m not to proud of this one sorry :/