Tumgik
#and james just climbing up the steps with determined joy to get to him
myburntwritings · 11 months
Text
Write Up - Loop 1, Weds 12th April 2023
It's nights like this one that I wished I was a better artist, because I would absolutely be sketching the most glorious visuals.
My first loop was a bit of a mish-mash, as I wanted to try for the Persephone show, and knew I would have to run off before the end of the loop. Plus, nobody was entirely calling to me from the cast list. (Or, the problem was, everybody was calling to me.)
I entered through Troy on my first red ace in a while. But with most of my early loop favourites over in Mycenae (not to mention and Ali Agamemnon) I headed straight across the border into Mycenae. I was just coming up the pair of steps to the Mycenae doors when I had to jump aside into the railing as a Trojan Queen marched past me with a look of such determination that I got the feeling negotiations with Mycenae for stopping the siege on Troy did not go well.
Entering into Mycenae, I passed under the gates and immediately looked up the ladder, only to find the Watchman was not up there. They were also not in their hut. Not the biggest surprise, but it’s Milton, he’s usually out top of the show. I walked past the girders and suddenly stopped. Since when did Neoptolomus and Patroclus get a lamp? Nope. We found our missing Watchman, lying on his back on the girders, lamp hanging down as he peered around the empty Mycenae. His slow movements reminiscent of the soldiers moving as Watchman climbs to a vantage point to check the weather. I’ve always seen it that Milton’s Watchman is desperate to be considered a soldier, but isn’t. He wears a different uniform than the other Watchmen that separates him from the rest of the Greek army. These few moments of playing pretend while Neoptolomus and Patroclus are away are as close as he gets, and it’s a very relatable and personal level of heartbreaking in a show where most of the heartbreak is on a scale we cannot personally imagine in our lives. Most cannot realistically imagine how it feels to sacrifice ourselves to protect a city, or to watch our child be sacrificed for the will of a God. But we can all relate to the slow and drudging disappointment and pain that we are not considered the same way as others, others that we admire and adore.
But, I was not following Watchman. He went off to climb his ladder, and I waited for Will’s Neoptolomus and James’ Patroclus to start trying to beat the shit out of each other. (See, being a soldier isn’t so great, Watchman.) I didn’t follow them into the crate room after they’d been broken apart and given their orders. Instead, I stayed with Ali’s Agamemnon.
I may have had this thought before, but if I have, I don’t remember. I really like the fact that Agamemnon fights with his feelings about Iphigenia’s sacrifice on the girders. The girders are so symbolic of the war and the Greek Armies he had been made leader of, everything he has sworn to do for his brother. And yet, when he reaches the top, he can see his family in the palace. He has a perfect view of everything he has already given up for this war. It would be easy for him to go to the palace and announce the news of Iphigenia’s engagement to his wife and daughter himself, but he has been so removed from their lives these last ten years, that he instead lets their maid deliver the news. He knows he cannot be a part of their joy. He has been absent much of his daughter’s life, and yet, as he battles with himself, he can’t help but keep running up to the top of the girders to get one last glimpse of them happy.
Ali’s Agamemnon continued to emotionally destroy me as he carried out the sacrifice. Such adoration and affection as he greets Iphigenia at the top of the girders and kisses her forehead. His silent, face-twisting scream of anguish and pain as he pulls back the blade. Collapsing to the ground, clinging to his daughter before he slips back from the perfect vantage point to his happy family back down into the mud and grit of war, where his anguish is solidified into vengeance. Every minute taken from his time with his family, every sacrifice they have made will be thrown back on Troy in blood.
I joined their invasion, Artemis’ screams of vengeance ringing in my ears.
In the Troy town square, I followed Fania’s Hecuba away from the sacrifice of her daughter. I rarely follow Hecuba, but her devastation was so beautiful, especially when you get into Hesperides and you get the added symbolism of the petals of blood flowing out through her fingers. Giving birth to blood and death and pain. Just stunning.
I had planned on watching Jude’s Askalaphos for the second half of the loop, but he was off spying somewhere, and so instead, I watched some of Polydorus’ resurrection with little trips back into Hesperides to see if our florist had turned up. I then decided to run up to Klub to at least see a little of the blinding before returning to the square.
As I crossed the balcony and stepped through the curtains into the office, Hecuba was crouched on top of the desk, Fania cursing in rapid Greek.
There isn’t a lot of dialogue in this show, but usually I appreciate the text that I can add to meaning and emotions. I didn’t need to understand the text to add meaning and emotion with Fania. It was all in her tone, in her face, and the fact it was Greek and I couldn’t understand the cursing made it all the better. Like spells muttered in Latin sound much more mystical, curses uttered in Greek sound so much more violent and vengeful, the language of the Gods, borrowed by mortals when we have need of it.
Hecuba leapt down from the desk and went to the window, joined by Luba on one side, Cassandra on the other. Hecuba placed her hands on the glass, watching as Polymestor began to revel in his success, death dancing around him. Cassandra had her right arm stretched out in a curve, her hand on the glass. Luba had their right arm in the mirror position. Together, they became the curving horns of Moloch, ready to gauge and maim. Polymestor believed they had sated the beast, but had instead woken one far more deadly.
5 notes · View notes
v1oletvenus · 3 years
Text
only eighteen
imagine: Lily and James announce their engagement, but as you're all only 18, Sirius is confused as to whether or not he should also be popping that question to you.
in 'journey' mini series
cw: sirius x fem reader, swearing, smoking, angst, then fluffy kinda saucy ending (doesn't end in an engagement w the reader yet though teehee)
29th august 1978
"What?!" Sirius exclaimed, staring at the couple in front of you all, explaining some unprecendented news.
"We want to get married." Lily reiterated, hope in her voice as she looked at all of you, a glittering new ring adorning her left hand.
"We're going to get married." James corrected, grinning down at her.
"When?" Sirius probed.
"Soon."
"How soon?"
"Sirius!" You scolded playfully, laughing and gently swatting his arm.
You'd found the news equally as surprising, seeing as all of you had only just graduated from hogwarts and you were still so young, but you were happy for your best friends.
They were worried about the war, and didn't want to lose each other. Not to mention Euphemia and Fleamont slightly ailing under all of the pressure that the battle brought on them - Lily and James had a plethora of reasons for getting engaged. Why wait?
"I think its fantastic." Remus declared, bringing James in for a brotherly hug.
"Thanks, mate." James grinned happily, though eyeing his other best friend out the corner of his eye, worried by his reaction that he might not agree to what he wanted to ask him.
"That's wonderful, Lily. Congratulations." you said as you hugged her, feeling the vibrations of her joyful laugh as she clung to you.
"Well, I'll need your help with planning and everything. If you'll be my maid of honour." She suggested into your hair. You immediately pulled back, surprised yet again.
"Me? Maid of honour?" you asked, looking into her eyes. They merely twinkled green.
"I couldn't think of anyone else I'd want by my side." She smiled, and you almost started to tear up as you blushed and nodded all at once, thrilled to be asked.
You and Lily escaped to the kitchen of James' childhood home, where you had all met for the news. You both decided to do a champagne toast with everyone else waiting in the living room. Despite your elation, you were slightly concerned about Sirius, wondering why he'd reacted the way he did earlier.
"I hope Sirius is alright with it. James and he are upstairs talking." Lily pondered, taking a few glasses out of the cupboard while you retrieved some champagne.
"Maybe he's just not quite ready to give up on that eternal bachelor's dream he and James shared in 2nd year." you giggled, shrugging.
"Can't see why. He's completely in love with you!" Lily smiled. Though he'd told you that almost every day for as long as you'd been together, it was heartwarming to hear someone else observe it too.
"James seems over the moon." you commented, starting a conversation about the details of the wedding already; the dress, the flowers, the venue - you'd ensure it would be perfect for them, just as they deserved.
Sooner or later, you saw James and Sirius descending the stairs to re-join everyone in the toast to Lily and James' future together.
Sirius' frown from before had been replaced with a proud smile as he approached Lily from behind, engulfing her in a hug.
" 'M sorry about before, Lils. I'm so pleased for the both of you. Was just a shock is all." he explained to her as she turned around and returned his embrace.
"No worries, Padfoot, that makes sense. Can I get you a glass?" the red-haired girl responded, excited that everyone was happy with the news. He nodded, offering her a wide grin, before making his way over to you, placing an arm around you from where you leant on the marble island, laughing with Grant.
You felt a kiss being planted to your hair, and you turned your gaze slightly, looking up at your boyfriend.
"You okay, my love?" you asked, turning further and reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. He leant into your touch, offering a weak smile.
"Yeah." he nodded, speaking through gritted teeth. You didn't believe for a minute that he was okay. But, this was Lily and James' time.
"To Lily and James!" Peter cheered, following with a resounding clinking of glasses and drinking of the effervescent liquid.
The both of you apparated back to the hotel that you'd been staying at for the duration of your time in James' hometown.
You'd been doing that all summer - apparating to different places together and exploring them, between Order missions and your respective internships.
As you readied yourself for a bath before bed, he went out onto the balcony, fumbling for a cigarette. He had to clear his mind somehow of all the thoughts running rampant within it. He flicked his lighter, bringing the cigarette to his lips.
Then, he begun to think.
How proud of you he was at graduation. How he missed you dearly at the start of summer when you went home to see your parents for a while, and how ever since you returned neither of you had left the other's side. How he wanted to show you everywhere he'd seen before, and replace the memories of him going there with his family with thoughts of you. How asking you to live with him was on the tip of his tongue as the autumn approached.
Though the both of you were free-spirited and wild, wanting to drift around forever, he could see the two of you being domestic, like James and Lily were already, after only 2 months of living together.
But you weren't James and Lily - he knew that. And he was comfortable the way things were moving. But were you happy?
As Sirius battled his internal monologue on the balcony, you sat in the bath, rather somber. He usually came in to pester you at some point or another - wanting to join you, or help you wind down, or try to get you in the mood with incessant flirting.
But he hadn't tonight.
He hadn't said a word since the party.
You stepped out of the bubbles, drying yourself quickly and putting on a slip dress in record time, determined to figure out what was wrong with your lover.
"Sirius...?" you called out, stepping into the bedroom. He stubbed his cigarette out and came back in, meeting your gaze with an apprehensive smile.
"What's wrong, Siri?" you asked, trying to hide your desperation.
"Nothing, Y/N/N, let's just go to sleep." he said, climbing into his side of the bed. You obliged, biting your lip as your eyebrows furrowed in thought.
You were both silent for a moment or two, staring at the wall in front of you. You could practically feel the both of your thoughts bouncing off the walls, the tension was so thick.
"Sirius, I... I know you. And I know something's wrong. Is it anything I can help with?" you asked, almost pleading him to talk with you.
You studied his face, as his eyes refused to meet yours. Instead, they drifted down to the ring on your finger. The promise ring he put there not a year ago.
Oh.
Was he suddenly regretting it? The relationship? You?
His commitment issues had posed a problem in your relationship before - particularly at the start, when the thought of authentic love scared him. What if those fears had returned?
You couldn't shake those thoughts unless you asked. You thought things were going so well - you thought the two of you were in love. You thought he might... finally ask you to find a place together.
You took in a shaky breath, swinging your legs off the side of the bed and sitting up, turning away from him so he couldn't see your tears.
"Is it... Is it us?" You asked, lower lip trembling.
You couldn't see him shake his head, wordlessly sadenned that that was the conclusion you got to about his quietness.
"Do you regret the things you said when you... when you gave this to me?" you asked with a shaky voice, slipping the ring off your finger and holding it in your hands.
Sirius leapt off his side of the bed in an instant, hating himself for making you think he didn't love you. He took you in his arms, clinging to you desperately, as if you'd disappear if he didn't hold you.
"No, no. No, my love, it's nothing like that. I love you. I love you always, you know that. I don't know why I reacted the way I did - it was shock, and joy, and..."
You stayed silent for a while, waiting for him to explain himself. When he didn't, you snapped your gaze up to his, frustratedly.
"And?"
He sighed, cupping your cheek as he looked at you in adoration. "I love you. And I know it's you I want with me every day. It's just..." he trailed off, not being able to find the words to explain.
You immediately understood. He didn't know if he should be taking that same massive step with you.
"Sirius..." you whispered, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding. "We're on our own time, not anyone else's." you told him, calming the worried look in his eye.
"James and Lily... they have their own reasons for getting engaged. The war, Effie and Monty... Plus, they're so obsessed with each other - I think if they didn't get hitched soon, James would explode!" you joked, making Sirius chuckle.
He looked down at his feet. "It's just... I was sort of embarassed, too. We've been together a little longer than them, and they're already moved in together and now they're getting married, and-"
"But that's them, Siri. And we're us. We're only eighteen - we're kids! We're immature and gallavant around Britain and spend recklessly and fall in love over and over again..." he paused your words with a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled back again with a contented smile, letting you continue.
"We're in no rush at all, Siri. I'm happy taking these small steps with you every day, and we can take the bigger ones later." you smiled.
He sighed, wondering how on earth he managed to find a girl that was able to read his mind without legilimency.
"I guess I just felt some pressure, there. From nobody but myself, I guess. I've just loved this summer with you, and..." he lifted the ring from your palms. "I meant every word I said when I gave this to you. I want to spend forever with you. I just want to spend the here and now with you first." He said, sliding the ring back onto your finger, planting a kiss on your knuckles after he did so.
"I couldn't be happier with that plan." you grinned.
"But how about this..." he pondered, making your heart speed up in your chest a little. He glanced up to meet your gaze, mischief in his eye as he leaned in to kiss you.
You smiled into it as he leant you back on the bed, crawling on top of you and running his hand down your silk dress. He parted from your lips, travelling downwards.
"What if..." he pecked your jaw. "We got our own place..." he kissed your neck. "Somewhere in London..." his hand slipped under your dress, hiking it up. "Just the two of us..." he kissed your bare lower stomach. "Together?" he suggested, looking up at you from his place between your legs.
You bit your lip as his hands wandered. "I don't know, Siri. That might be too much." you joked teasingly, giggling as he arched an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah? You need persuading? "
"Mhm, but we might be up all night before I decide."
"Y'better believe we'll be up all night."
730 notes · View notes
theincuhusbands · 3 years
Text
The Jealous Cold Shoulder - (James x Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary – James has been acting cold and distant towards Y/N and their sick of it. He was their best friend. The one they always wanted to talk to and their determined to get to the bottom of this, Will things get worse if they call him out on it?
Warnings – Strong Language, Fighting, Kissing, Long, Stressed Reader
Word Count – 1963
I smiled as I snuggled into my new fluffy blanket, relishing in its warmth. I had been so stressed out about school lately, I’d barely had a moment to think. Matthew created this blanket for me while I was at school so now, I get to snuggle up in the library and read my favourite book for the billionth time.
When I mentioned that I was going to go read in the library I had hoped that someone would join me… but he didn’t seem interested. Usually, James and I could spend hours in the library by the fire talking about our favourite books or my favourite TV shows, that’s what made me fall head over heels for him. The way he said my name, like sweet honey dripping off his lips, could make me buckle at the knees. His laugh echoing throughout the room filling it beautifully, but recently, it’s as if he’s put off by the thought of spending time with me.
I understand that I might not be the best to be around when I’m stressed but I guess he must be quite stressed too, with the company and all. With all my feelings aside, I miss spending time with him.
I sigh as I flick through the chapters of my book trying to find my favourite one. Today it doesn’t seem to be bringing the usual joy. I eventually find the page and start reading but it doesn’t take long for me to put the book back on the shelf.
I guess just not today…
My attention is quickly drawn to the hall as I see the blurs of Matthew running away from Sam. I giggle as I start to run after them, sliding around corners in my socks to catch up. I eventually catch Sam and lunge for him, jumping onto his back. All three of us laugh as I gently hit Sam on the back.
We snap out of it though as soon as we hear a very annoyed “Ahem.”
I look up to see James standing with a spilt coffee all over his grey jumper. I hear Sam snicker and look to see Matthew trying to hide his smile. I walk over to James and try to take his cup but he yanks it away from me, just spilling more tea onto the floor and himself. “You three should watch where you’re going.” His voice was stern and powerful.
I was used to him telling Matthew and Sam off but he had NEVER spoke to me like that. “Em, what?” James looks down at me with disgust in his eyes. The look shoots right through me making my stomach drop to the floor. That one look made me feel worse than anything anyone’s ever said to me, well maybe besides my father.
“I expected better from you.”
I cross my arms and snort back. “Yeah, well this is my house. I’ll do what I want asshole.”
James looks at me for a second studying my face. I don’t think he was expecting me to say anything back, least of all that. “Your behaving like a little girl. Y/N. What would your grandfather say if he could see you right now?”
I felt blood rush to my face as I took a step back lowering my face to the floor. The venom dripping from his voices cut through me like a knife. The name he used to say so sweetly, now used against me. I felt utterly humiliated. I look to the side to see Sam and Matthew’s faces. Their twisted in anger or mortification… to be honest it could be either. Sam’s fists were balled up. “That’s too far James.”
In that moment something in James’s eyes snapped. His face fell as the realisation sunk in of what he had just said. I felt my eyes start to well with tears and my vision become blurry. I furiously wiped my tears with my sleeve.
“Y/N I-“
“Get away from me!” I lashed out screaming. James tried to step forward to say something but before the words could come out, I cut him off. “Don’t talk to me you bastard!” I quickly turned on my heal, running out of the room as more and more tears fell from my eyes.
I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door shut, sliding down it I sob harder and harder into my hands. What did I do to him?! I hear loud knocking on the door as someone tries the knob. “Your highness? Can I come in?”
There’s no point in punishing Erik… He didn’t do anything wrong. I stand up and open the door, standing back into the middle of my room. Erik comes in quietly and locks the door. When he sees me his face melts. “Highness...”
He sweeps me up into a bear hug, wrapping me tightly in his arms as I sob into his chest. Erik sighs leaning his head on top of mine. “Highness… if your grandfather saw you now… he’d be proud beyond compare! Think of all the things you’ve accomplished!” I sniffle and look up at Erik.
“It’s not even that that bothers me… he knows that stings and he said it anyway… why would he say that though?”
Erik smiles weakly. “Because as smart as my brother likes to think he is. He really isn’t, especially not when it comes to- …”
I look up at Erik puzzled waiting for him to finish his sentence but he never does. “When it comes to?” Erik goes a slight shade of pink probably realising he’s said too much. “You… Highness” I pull back from Erik slightly moving over to sit on my bed. “Me?”
Erik nods as he makes his way over to my nightstand. He picks up a small framed photo of all the boys, Diana, Saero and I at the beach. We’re all laughing and having fun. It’s definitely one of my favourites! And not just because James has his arm around me. “When it comes to you Highness… although it may not seem like it right now… James cares a great deal about you. More than I’ve seen him care about anyone who isn’t one of us…”
“Then why would he-“
“He’s confused. He’s not good at this sort of stuff. I know it’s horrible but just let him work himself out.” Erik sits beside me gently pressing the frame into my hands. I gently run my fingers over James’s face. I nod slowly and Erik leans in to hug me.
-------
By the time seven o’clock rolls around, Sam, Damien and Matthew have all asked me to come down and join them for dinner. Each time I declined though. I have decided to plunge myself back into school work, working on a 5,000-word scripted essay due for next month.
I sit with my headphones on, listening to the new album I bought. I was about half way through it when I felt a gently tap on my shoulder. I turned around taking my headphones off and jumped in surprise to see James.
His face was torn in guilt. His eyebrows were glued together and his eyes were filled with sadness. His hair was slightly messy and ruffled, a really odd thing for the perfectionist. The sight of him almost made me forget all the anger and sadness. Almost.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I knocked but you didn’t answer…”
“Ever think that was because I didn’t want to talk to you?”
It was a lie of course. I had been hoping all afternoon that he would come upstairs so we could get over this. I had been looking over my shoulder every few minutes hoping to see him standing there however, he seemed to have believed me. He sighs and runs his hands through his messy hair. “I… deserved that…”
He walks over to the side of my desk, perching himself on it. “I’m sorry Y/N… I really am… I just got so… angry…”
“but why?” I stood up from my chair looking at his face, hoping for any sign, any hint of an answer. His gaze dropped from my face to the ground at my feet. “Y/N please come down stairs and eat… you shouldn’t have to-“
“Don’t tell me what to do James.” I warn him. Not viciously but with enough warning in there that he knew I was serious. He nods, still refusing to make eye contact with me. This was too strange. I had to know.
“James tell me why you were angry.”
My voice sounded more like a plea than I would have wish but it finally got James to lift his eyes, if only for a moment. “I… if I say- you must promise to eat.” I nod to him sitting on my bed, getting comfortable and preparing for whatever he is about to say. “I was jealous… you were spending time with Sam and Matthew…” I look at him, dumbfounded in shock. He was jealous of Matthew and Sam? I couldn’t help but let out a shocked simple laugh. James looked at me, his face still covered in guilt.
“But you’ve been avoiding-“
And it suddenly clicked. It was a clear as day to me. I could hear Erik’s words ringing in my ears.
James cares a great deal about you, He’s not good at this sort of stuff. 
and now he’s jealous of Sam and Matthew.
Suddenly I became determined. I had to make him say it. Out loud. “And why were you jealous?” He says nothing. He doesn’t move. He’s silent. I look up at him, I can feel my face burning and my fists ball up as I stand on my knees.
“Why?”
“…”
“Say it!”
“I’m in love with you Y/N…”
I sit back down, in stunned silence. He actually said it. I stare at him saying nothing, almost in a hazy daze. He stares back at me, looking almost terrified. “Y/N say something… please…”
“Why?” It’s nothing more than a whisper but it’s all I can manage. I feel tears start to form in my eyes. “Why ignore me? Why say what you did? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
James shakes his head looking to the ground. “Because I love you and it scares me… Y/N I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like this before…”
“Well, me neither.” The tears start to overflow as a couple spill out my cheeks. James looks at me shocked. He walks over to me and kneels in front of my bed to be at my level. He gently lifts his hand to wipe a couple of stray tears. “What did you just-“
I cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is needy and passionate and he responds almost immediately. My hands wonder to his chest as his hands roam up my body and tangle themselves into my hair. I pull him closer to me and toss him onto the bed, climbing on top of him. “I love you too… I don’t know what I’d do without you… please don’t shut me out.”
James shakes his head as he cups my face with his hands. “Not anymore love…” He kisses me again except this time it’s softer, more tender. I lean into it, wanting to be as close to James as possible. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to me. After a while we pull apart to catch our breath and James’s half-smile makes my heart skip a beat. He’s utterly gorgeous.
“Will you join me for dinner now, Y/N?
My face flushes red as I nod, grinning ear to ear. “I’d love to.”
102 notes · View notes
alindakb · 3 years
Text
Gwyneth - Part 2 - by Alinda
“Careful, Nathan,” Harry can hear Lily say. He looks into the lounge and spots Draco asleep on the sofa. He’s on his side, with his hands under his head. It’s a sight Harry has become accustomed to. As soon as Harry comes home from work, Draco lays down somewhere and drifts to sleep in seconds.
Lily stands in front of him, her hand placed softly on Draco’s belly. Nathan stands by the table and smiles at Lily.
“Come, Nathan. You can feel our little sister,” Lily says.
Nathan lets go of the table and takes a wobbly step towards Lily. Harry shakes his head. Ever since that little man discovered how to walk a couple of days ago, he wants to do nothing else. Harry doesn’t know how many bruises he’s already spelt away, as Nathan’s endeavours have more chance of failing than succeeding, ending with Nathan on the floor with tears in his eyes. But it doesn’t stop him from trying again. And crawling is no longer an acceptable means to get from one point to the other. Sometimes Harry wished that Narcissa would still talk to them, he’s dying to know if Draco was the same when he was little. Harry can see it, a younger Draco struggling to stay upright, but determined to make it to his destination without falling.
Nathan makes it to the sofa and places his small hands just in front of Draco.
“Good job,” Lily says. If Draco would be awake he would roll his eyes now and then point a finger at Harry, saying it was all his fault for letting his teacher side slip into their daily lives with a smile on his face. Harry never realised how often he says things like ‘good job’ when talking to his children, or his students even, until Lily started to repeat everything he says. Kids can be scary mirrors sometimes. Not that Harry would ever want to live without them, he loves his little once. Even Teddy, who only agreed to go to Hogwarts after Harry fire called the headmistress to make sure he was allowed to come home when his little sister would get born.
It’s still a couple of weeks away from Draco’s due date, but Harry wishes it was here already. He wants to meet the little girl hiding away in his belly. Even though Harry will miss the sight of Draco being pregnant. Draco doesn’t believe Harry, but he’s beautiful with his massive belly. If it wasn’t for the fact that Draco is exhausted most days when Harry comes home, Harry would show him just how beautiful he is. But for the last couple of weeks, Harry has been forced to take out his urge to fuck Draco by wanking in the shower until the urge goes away.
“Very careful,” Lily says as Nathan lifts his hand to place it next to his sister. “We don’t want to wake daddy.” Lily takes Nathan’s arm and makes sure the little boy doesn’t smash it onto Draco’s belly. They stand for a second and then Nathan giggles.
“That’s our sister,” Lily tells Nathan. Harry is stuck in wanting to move over to them and hug them into his arms and to keep watching his two kids giggle over the kicks their unborn sister makes inside Draco.
“Once she’s born, daddy won’t be ill anymore. Or cry and yell. I promise,” Lily says.
Harry bites his lower lip and blinks away the moisture in his eyes. He’d hoped the kids hadn’t notice, but nothing escapes them. Draco has been an emotional mess all pregnancy. It’s worse than the roller coaster of physical and emotional hardship he’d had when he was pregnant with Lily. But Harry had understood that. He’d felt the same fear and been on the same roller coaster. What happened with James was still fresh in their minds and didn’t leave them until Draco was holding Lily in his arms. But it had been better when they had Nathan. Time had helped them heal and Draco was more stable and enjoyed being pregnant. But this time around, he’s been all over the place. Harry wished he knew why. It looks like it’s more than just the hormones, but Draco swears that there isn’t anything else. And maybe he doesn’t even know why this time around it’s taking so much from him to get through his pregnancy.
It’s not that Draco doesn’t want the child growing inside him. No, he loves the little girl, Harry is sure. But the joy he had when they just found out is gone. Over the months it’s been replaced by tears. Harry remembers the day he came home to find Draco crying in the kitchen after he yelled at Nathan for no reason.
“I’m a horrible father,” Draco had cried.
“You’re not, just tired. We all snap sometimes when we’re tired,” Harry had assured him.
“You don’t get it. I yelled at our eight-month-old baby for no reason. He just tried to grab my cup with tea. He doesn’t know it’s dangerous. And I yelled at him like he murdered someone,” Draco yelled. “I can’t do this. I’m not even halfway and I’m already losing my shit. I can’t do this, Harry.” Big tears streamed down his cheek and Harry pulled him into his arm.
“Yes, you can. I’ll take some days off so you can rest.” Harry had taken Draco upstairs and run a bath for him. That night Draco had crawled against Harry and cried. Harry had taken a week off and Draco had calmed down a little at the end of the week.
But it hadn’t been the only time Harry had found him in tears. Or screaming at him or their children. And Harry could deal with being the one that got yelled at. But seeing Lily burst into tears because she made daddy mad, or have Teddy declare he’ll move back to his grandmother if Draco wouldn’t leave him alone, had hurt. But Harry doesn’t know what to do about it. He tried to tell Draco to keep it together around the kids, only to have the man fall apart in front of him. Harry doesn’t want to hear Draco say that he thinks he isn’t fit to be a farther, to raise their children, because Harry can’t think of anyone that would be better qualified than Draco. The man that gave up his job to become a full-time dad because he didn’t want them to be raised by nannies or house-elves. The man who braved modern technology and discovered YouTube so he could learn how to braid their daughter's hair. The man that gets up before dawn, so he can go watch the sunrise together with Teddy because the boy wanted to see it so badly.
Draco opens his eyes and looks at the two little people in front of him. Nathan giggles again and Draco smiles. Harry moves closer and kneels beside Nathan.
“Is she moving?” Harry asks.
“Yes, dad. Go feel her,” Lily says excitedly.
Harry places one of his hands next to the small once of his kids. Nathan wobbles a little, and Harry places his other arm around Nathan’s waist to make sure the boy doesn’t fall.
“She’s been keeping me up at night,” Draco says. Harry looks at him and sees the dark circles below his eyes.
“I told the principal that I’m taking time off after this week,” Harry says.
“Won’t you get in trouble?” Draco ask.
Harry shakes his head. “He’s still amazed by the fact that you are pregnant. And that magic is real. You would say that after a year and a half he would get used to the idea.”
“I love you,” Draco states.
“I love you too, daddy,” Lily says. “And Nathan, and dad, and Teddy, and baby sister.”
Harry and Draco both laugh. “We love you too, Lily,” Harry tells her as Nathan tries to climb on his leg. Harry takes him in his hands and lifts him in the air as he stands up.
“You’re going to help me make dinner, little man?”
“Harry,” Draco says. His voice is soft and Harry turns to look at him again.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ve already called healer Burke. She said she would send over prescriptions for your birth control potion.”
Draco closes his eyes as a tear slips from them.
“Draco, I know you’re struggling. You’ve been sick this entire pregnancy. Not to say your emotional state. We all want you to be okay, so let's make sure you will be after our little third miracle is born. We’ll have four beautiful children and I want to enjoy them with you, not just by myself.”
“Thank you,” Draco whispers.
“Don’t be sad, daddy,” Lily pipes in. “Sissy will be a good girl.”
“We’re not calling your baby sister Sissy,” Draco says.
“But it’s easy. She’s my baby sister, so Sissy.”
Harry laughs. “She has a point,” he says.
“Don’t you start. We’ll think of a name that suits her, and I can guarantee you it won’t be Sissy.” Draco snaps.
Harry bents over him and places a kiss on his forehead. “I know, sweetheart,” he says. And then he turns with Nathan in his arms and walks over to the kitchen. “What do you think, Nathan. Will Lily convince daddy to call your baby sister Sissy?”
“Non non,” Nathan babbles.
“Yeah, I don’t think so either. And don’t tell daddy, but I’ve been looking into names and I think we should call her Gwyneth. What do you think?” Harry says.
Nathan just puts his thumb in his mouth and Harry shakes his head. “I’ll ask your daddy tonight when you and Lily are asleep. And then we can stop this Sissy nonsense.”
“I think it’s perfect,” Draco says from behind Harry. Harry turns around and smiles at Draco. “As we are blessed to have her in our lives. Even if it was hell to have her,” Draco continues.
Harry steps closer to him and kisses him. “You are a champion for having her,” he tells Draco. And he means it. No matter how difficult these last couple of months have been, they both know little Gwyneth will be worth it.
16 notes · View notes
sweeethinny · 3 years
Text
You’re The Right One - Chapter 1
There are people we would walk through the fire for, people we never imagined we could meet, and for James S. Potter, that person is Mira Hazel. The temperamental madwoman who was in the compartment next to him in Hogwarts' first year, and who has been by his side ever since. In the fifth year, however, Mira begins to gain another angle through James' eyes, however much he doesn't want it. You shouldn't look at your best friend that way, let alone want to kiss her every time they're close. He definitely shouldn't be jealous of her. She is just your friend, best friend, and James should put his head in place and forget about all this crazy stuff to avoid problems ... But he never went after problems, anyway, they always find a way to find him.
AO3
Tumblr media
first of all, I would like to thank @theroomofreq​ who is beta of this fic, thank you very much for helping me to put this story in the world <3  this is a story that is almost finished in the original version, so my days of creative block will not hinder her progress
that’s it, thank u if you’re read till here, i hope you like my characters and my vision of the next gen <3
Walking excitedly among all the people, carrying his owl and bags in the cart, and rushing his parents every moment they were less than two steps behind him. James grinned from ear to ear on a lively September morning, the one where he would mark his first school year at Hogwarts.
''Let's go!’’ He pulled his father by the hand, who had stopped to show Lily, the youngest of the family, the huge dog that was walking illustriously beside the owner.
Both Harry and Ginny walked slowly to enjoy what would be the last time they would see their eldest son until Christmas, when they would force him to return to spend the festivities at home. For the father, it was a joy to see that little kid who barely reached his chest, saying what a great Quidditch player he would be and that Gryffindor would be, certainly, his house.
'' What if it happens to be Hufflepuff? Albus asked, a little frightened by his brother's enthusiasm that morning
'' It won't happen '' He rolled his eyes when none of the parents looked at him '' I'm too brave '' And the two laughed among themselves, thinking that the son was a copy, much more genius should be said, of the mother and the uncles Fred and George. And Harry was not ashamed to admit, that he saw himself much more in Albus, frightened by that determination, than by the flames of excitement that prowled James eyes. At least not at that age.
'' Come on, you and me first '' James barely waited for his father to hold the stroller bar, safely crossed the 9 3/4 barrier, reaching the spot where his eyes twinkled, and his whole body shook from nervousness and anxiety. Soon the mother with Albus and Teddy appeared, as always, the calm face of the woman making the boy brake and answer the silent request of '' wait! ''
'' How do you feel? '' Wizards were everywhere now, there were owls hooting, cats purring on their owners' legs, and frogs in the clothes of some, showing only their big eyes.
'' Anxious '' He spoke the truth for the first time, still smiling, but now a little more slowly. '' Do you think I'll be able to fly? '' This time he addressed his mother, speaking quietly so that only she could hear, watching Albus and Lily listening to his father's story about his first day there, while Teddy made some joke about how old he was. Ginny smiled kindly, warming the boy's heart, arranged the hair that fell in his eyes and rubbed his young face
'' Of course James, but if you have difficulties, which I doubt, we can train at Christmas '' He nodded, more hopeful this time. If her mother, a famous Quidditch player, had told him he could do it, then it would become true. Right?
'' Let's go just before the train leaves '' This time it was Harry who stirred, pushing the way while James saw the faces that would soon become known to him. Whether they are friends, colleagues, or enemies. (Even though his father made him swear that he would not start  unnecessary fights)
Smoke spread in the air, a lot of students - young and old - boarded the train and packed their bags in the cabins, then returned to hug their parents, be  scolded, or just talk. Heads floated in the window, students laughing excitedly with the anxiety of finally leaving, and James couldn't help feeling different.
'' I'm going to miss you, brat '' Teddy ruffled his brother's at heart hair '' First year is an important year .. write me if you need anything '' James nodded, slightly nervous as he watched the man change his hair for go dark like his, smiling a little too watery for his opinion
'' Me too. And ok, I will '' James hugged him, and then turned to his parents, almost feeling like he was about to scream in excitement and fear.
'' Be careful '' The father looked at his son, a little laughing and a little serious, raising his eyebrows '' I'm watching you ''
'' Ok '' He nodded excitedly '' And I know you will ''
"Take care, okay?" It was Albus' embrace, two years younger, tight and full of anticipation that made James smile without grace, his cheeks warm with that affection. As annoying as he could be, he would miss having someone smaller than himself to win the blame.
'' Yes, I’ll miss you too '' And then everyone got together for the squeeze, almost breaking his ribs, and making him blush with embarrassment '' No ... I can’t ... breathe ''
The little sister gave his cheek a wet kiss - which James automatically wanted to wipe but did not do when he saw his father's gaze - his mother had passed on some instructions about the houses and how he should be calm regardless of the choice.
'' The house that Hat draws will be the right one for you, and we will be happy regardless of the result. Write to us as soon as you can, preferably today '' He nodded laughing, thinking of the red and gold lion.
'' Now, listen '' The father had crouched down, keeping close eye contact, his green eyes almost bursting into orbit '' I don't want you to be around getting in trouble, understood? '' For the fiftieth time he nodded '' Don't worry if you are alone, people always arrive in the compartment , you can meet great friends inside '' Once again he moved his head
'' Stop being so melodramatic, man. '' Teddy laughed, winking at James, who seemed to have read the mind of the boy who was thinking about the whole castle to explore.
'' I'm going to send you news '' he assured, entering in the train
'' Every day. '' James frowned, eliciting laughter from his parents '' Answer us always, and if you need to ... ''
'' I know, Dad, I know ... Professor Longbottom can help me. '' The train started to leave, they exchanged a few more words, he waved at them as they got smaller, and then that was it.
James was finally on his way to the Witch School.
Anxious, he ran to the  single empty compartment  he found and began to contemplate the path they were taking. It seemed that magic was already taking place there, it was like the sensation of climbing up  a gigantic peak, analyzing the view from the top , the fall that he would soon make. It was scary, but impressively, it also seemed to cause a huge euphoria that would make him jump.
"Can I come in or is it full already?" The female voice woke him from his daydream. He had heard many love stories that began in train compartments , his godfather for example, swore he was one of those who unknowingly knew the love of his life. Grandpa, whose name he honored, met Grandma in one of those too. But if James knew anything, it was the  girl, a few inches shorter than him, with long blond hair braided, wearing a funny black cap and school robes, would not be his love.
She wasn't ugly, but she looked ... clumsy. Her eyes were large pits of the darkest pitch, the pupil barely visible, her  cheeks pink and large, eyebrows as clear as lashes (little more colored than the fair skin), and her  teeth a little apart, in addition to a pink lip fatty. Her legs looked  long compared to her  body, even under her robes, and her arms were thin, as if she had started to stretch-but only on some limbs.
'' Uh ... no. '' But you couldn't deny friends, of course. "You can sit down."
'' So ... '' She packed her bags '' It was full up front '' Justified herself by picking up a 'Quidditch History' book and sitting in front of him '' And I thought .... Hey, I think I know you from somewhere '' James blushed, even though he straightened up and tried to look more secure than he really was. Being recognized was never fun. '' You are Ginny Potter's son, I saw you on the Prophet's cover! My God, your mother is awesome '' She spoke in a way that her eyes almost popped, such excitement, gesturing and bulging her eyes.
'' I know '' James bragged, even if uncomfortable '' She's the best '' He spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world. His mother had retired as a chaser  after Lily was born, however, he had gone to a few games and could remember it  being amazing. In addition, every time they played in the vegetable garden, the father had to sweat so that they would not lose by more than 100 points - even if someone on his team caught the snitch.
'' I want to be like her , you know .. '' The girl straightened up on the bench, pulling her legs up, leaning her back against the cold window, the book resting on her knees '' I want to play like that. '' James thought she was funny, but he didn't comment, a little scared by how intimidating she looked. '' My parents hate flying, but I like it. I mean, I’ve only  flown a few times, but it's soooo fun. '' He wanted to laugh, staring at her curiously. Her hair resembled Aunt Fleur's hair, long and light, but it was much less styled than the hair of the older woman  '' I really like to imagine myself playing. ''
''To imagine? Have you never played? '' The nameless girl denied, making a face
'' My parents are not the biggest Quidditch fans, so to go to a game, it was like Mass '' "Mass?" He frowned.
The blonde looked at him, this time curious, '' Yes, it's a muggle thing, you know, about religion, some are too long ... so the saying... '' James nodded
"Are you Muggle-born?" She shook her head, fiddling with the worn book unpretentiously, and then shrugged.
'' My parents are wizards, but my grandparents are muggles and I spent  a lot of time with my maternal grandmother, so '' she shrugged '' That's why I never played, I had no one, but I know how to play volleyball and maybe it will help me. And Tennis '' the girl shrugged again '' Anyway, your mom is a big inspiration to me, I wish I could have seen her play. ''
'' So ... you didn't say your name '' And again she moved, sitting forward and holding out her hand to him, which was full of different rings. James wondered if that girl could be weirder than Dominique. Or Aunt Luna.
'' Sorry, I was so excited ... I'm Mira Hazel. '' He smiled kindly
'' James '' Even though he didn't need to, he was happy to say '' What house do you think will be in? '' She straightened up again on the bench, without opening the book this time, looking at him with full attention.
'' I hope Ravenclaw. What about you? '' Mira Hazel said, as James grimaced.
'' Gryffindor, obviously. Why do you want that one? It's so full of ... idiots '' The girl raised her clear eyebrows, her body moving into an attack position as if she might pounce on him, much like a cat. James was concerned that she was carrying a cat beside her, but there was no sign.
'' My parents are from there .. You know. Gryffindor is not the only good house at school, if it were, it wouldn't make sense to have others, would it? '' James swallowed the words, arranging his back on the bench and thinking what he would say Next. Of course, his father had warned about this, but how could he not want to go to the house that housed his whole family?
Before he could give a bullshit answer that would make coal eyes explode, the cabin door was opened again, this time a boy with black hair and frightened eyes appeared, his cheeks flushed and what appeared to be a frog in his front pocket. "Sorry, wrong cabin."
When the door closed again, silence radiated over them, James too affected to admit that maybe, for a few seconds, she was right. Only the pages broke the silence,, as she leafed through the book almost aggressively,.Mira seemed to have read it many times judging by  the yellowish color that marked the edges, in addition to the lower spine looking punished with use. He thought of asking what Quidditch position she wanted - for he had imagined that if they both wanted to be keppers, they would fall off their brooms before the snitch was even released - but he kept the words to himself.
The food cart was not long in arriving, much to his delight, and the two bought what looked like food for five more, still without speaking a word, which was driving him crazy.
"Aha! I finally found you. '' The female voice broke through the air. Mira smiled at the chocolate frog, taking the card in her hands
'' Who did you find? '' James smiled when he saw Merlin smiling on his own card.
'' Hermione Weasley '' And as if it were pure gold, she carefully tucked it inside the Quidditch book.  '' My mother met her ... they made Runes together '' Mira nodded, seeming to talk to herself more than to him '' A very smart witch ... I should want to be like her too, don't you think? ''
'' Are you always this weird? '' He joked, happy that she had talked to him again. Her silence was claustrophobic, which was very strange, since Albus used to give him a cold shoulder whenever they fought, and it was never this bad. 
'' Ah ... no, I’m just nervous. '' It seemed like a lie, but he didn't say anything 
'' But tell me, what is it like? Having these people in your family '' Mira asked. 
James grimaced when he swallowed a Bertie Botts every flavor bean,  '' Ear wax, ew, I don't know how I was wrong. I thought it might be popcorn ''
''Normal '' He moved his shoulders, precisely choosing a bean, loving the taste of strawberry when he threw one in his mouth '' They are normal people most of the time '' 
'' It can't be normal '' She rolled her eyes '' There must be something extraordinary about being the son of Harry and Ginny Potter '' 
James tried to shake the thought from  his mind, remembering all the years living in his family and all the stories that he had heard (even if in half).
Sometimes it was quite difficult, people used to be so intrusive  at partie, s it was almost impossible for them not to be stopped by some journalist wanting to know the latest gossip that involved their name.
James thought it all sucked. It was very tiring.
He had thought that now as he was going to Hogwarts he could finally be James. Simply, James, and no longer,live in the shadow of his parents great deeds. Even if no one asked him to follow in their footsteps, stressing the irrecoverable losses they had made along the arduous path, he felt as if nothing he did was really interesting.
Going to Gryffindor, being a good keeper and a good student, was not just to ensure that his track record was brilliant, but to guarantee a place in the genius tree. He hadn't fought like his mother and father, but he had done something good while he was at school, proving his worth. Proving to be brave and fearless.
'' Except I can get a lot of cards from chocolate frogs more easily '' He smiled at the girl who laughed in denial, her cheeks turning pink again, and her eyes no longer seemed to carry the fury she had earlier presented.
She wasn't all bad, after all.
[...]
‘’James Potter .. what an honor!’’ Hagrid, a half-giant who always showed up at his house telling stories about strange and dangerous animals, smiled at him, hitting him on the back with a force that made him walk two steps forward.
‘’Hi Hagrid.’’ He returned the smile, looking  excitedly behind him and seeing the boats positioned.
After the rookies were summoned and put on boats, crossed the river below the night sky with few stars, Mira was beside him, her eyes looking like a part of the sky, shining with the magnificent view of Hogwarts. The castle looked bigger and more splendid than any photograph, description, or drawing he had ever seen and heard. It was real, grand, and now it was his new home.
As they left the boats and were led into the castle, the children's voices seemed to triple- the excitement of standing in that hall, waiting to be called up for the sorting. A tall, strong, well-groomed professor, showing a scar that cut his eyebrow and a little bit of his left eyelid, appeared. ,He explained the houses, the hat and introduced himself, Frank Johaan, Defense Against the Dark Art teacher . When they entered the Great Hall, which his father had spoken so much of, James thought he might fall over right there, looking at the tables, the teachers, the decoration above him, the walls laden with flags of the houses, the ghosts walking around. .. It was almost like daydreaming. No photograph  lived up to what James was seeing
And just as his father had informed him, when the time came, the Sorting Hat on a stool, looking old and worn, began to sing.
When Headmaster McGonagall gave a slight smile after welcoming the students - and James thought he saw her smile bigger when she saw him - Professor Johaan stood erect beside the stool, a scroll in his left hand and the right on top of the hat
‘’When I call your name, come here and sit down.’’
The names began, applause whenever the house was shouted at by the patched hat.With each person, the boy felt more apprehensive, looking around anxiously and seeing Mira from a short distance, looking confident, hardly even blinking during the wait.
‘’Potter, James Sirius’’ He could have sworn he saw the Headmistress getting ready in the chair to watch, making him feel even more nervous; And with weak legs, but without showing it, he started the long walk to the stool, everyone's eyes following him, and the teachers looking at him with curiosity. He took a deep breath before sitting on the stool and left his mind free, listening even to his heartbeat.
‘’Ah a Potter ... I know them so well. A brave heart ... ‘’ Said the hat, and he thought it was magnificent ‘’I can't help but notice, too big even for a giant's body’’. Without thinking, he looked sideways at Hagrid, who was smiling anxiously while sitting in one of the chairs set for the teachers. ‘’But would that only help you? .. A vast intelligence, certainly, but I cannot deny the truth ... Gryffindor!’’
The Gryffindor table rose to a fuss, eagerly applauding and welcoming him, with huge smiles and nods when he sat down, everyone congratulating him and talking about how amazing it was that they had a Potter there.
‘’Hazel, Mira’’ She walked confidently, not even blushing.  Her braided hair trailing behind her and her black eyes looking like two black holes in her pale face. She sat on the stool, waiting for the call, the sorting hat was put on, and stayed there for some time.
James’ godmother had told him about this, about students sometimes sitting up to five minutes waiting, they were students who confused the hat, they had many attributes that stood out and could easily fit in more than one house, as had happened with her.
The blonde was waiting in the same way as when she sat down, calm and seeming to assess with the hat, after what seemed like three or more minutes - he hadn't been there so long, and if he had, he would have died of anxiety - the hat screamed;
-Gryffindor!
His  house table began to clap again, the blonde descending cheerfully and full of smiles, greeting those at the end and sitting next to James, her eyebrows half-arched and in an almost balmy way, showing in her eyes
‘’It looks like we'll be colleagues, Potter.’’ Mira said as she raised her chin and exuding confidence , drawing a laugh from James. 
‘’So it seems.’’ And for some reason, he was happy with that.
20 notes · View notes
5minutefanfiction · 4 years
Text
One Way or Another
Hello My Lovelies,
You can access the MASTERLIST here at my wordpress blog.
Regards, Bec Xxx
Supernatural One way or another
(Dean x Reader)
 Authors Note:  Finally finished one that’s been in my half written folder for ages. J Enjoy, My Lovelies.
 WORD COUNT: 6,500 approx
 He sat staring at lifeline in his hands. The one thing that could potentially bring him from the darkness that had consumed him. He turned it over again, second guessing himself once more. Was it the right thing to do? The right call. God, there were so many other choices he could have made. So many other paths he could have taken. His eyes flickered to the gun on the table in front of him…no, that wasn’t one of them. Nothing could have brought him to do that. At least he’d like to think so.
‘If you want an excuse, we need the help?’ Sam offered as he glanced up from the mountains of books in front of him.
‘We’re not that desperate.’
‘You are,’ Sam pointed out, raising an eyebrow. ‘Dean, it’s not-.’
‘Don’t. Don’t go starting this again. It’s over. It’s done. Move on.’
‘It’s not, and you know it. Look we could really use her help. I can’t translate this, Google can’t even recognise it. And let’s face it, she could figure this out before dusk,’ Sam sighed.
‘Not. Happening,’ he snapped. ‘She made her damn choice.’
‘You telling her to get out before -.’
Dean glared at his brother, silencing him. He didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware of what was said on both sides of the argument. He was also well aware that Y/N had done as he demanded in his fit of drunken rage and not bothered to call or text once. In the months since she’d walked out, telling him where to go, he’d not seen or heard from her. Nor had anyone provided him with an update. He didn’t know if she was dead or alive. Sam had tried in the first few weeks to get her to speak to them, but she didn’t answer. He stood, stomping out the room and slamming the door behind him. A small part of him wondering if Sam was right. More so, wanting to know if he apologised would she forgive him? Would they both finally heal and be able to move forward. He shook his head as he stuffed his clenched fists into his pocket. No, there’d be no moving forward. There’d always be questions. Always be doubts. He’d never truly be able to trust her or even himself again.
‘Please,’ Sam begged. ‘I know it’s not ideal. But we need the help, and I’ll be honest we’re hitting dead end after dead end. We are that desperate we stole books from the crime scene hoping it would tell us something. But they’re all in some kind of language I can’t translate.’
‘You didn’t think to check that before you flogged them?’ she sighed.
Sam listened as she paced whatever room she was in. He could hear the tears that welled in her eyes. The poor woman was never good as keeping her emotions hidden.
‘No.’
He listened to sharp intake of air, as the pacing seemed to settle. She took a shaky breath as he knew he had her.
‘I have to finish something here first. I can’t leave just yet, but I’ll come as soon as I can.’
‘Y/N,’ he pleaded.
‘Sammy, I can’t. I’m sorry. As soon as I can. Text me your address. I’ve gotta go,’ she whispered, hanging up before he could respond again.
Sam sat staring at the clock, 10 minutes of arguing. He didn’t expect it to take that long. Not with her, not with her commitment to the hunt. The pain that the fight with Dean caused was worse than he imagined. He never expected to have her so close to tears from what would be such a simple request. Guilt ate at him, as his stomach swirled. Dean was going to kill him. Y/N would probably never talk to him again. Which meant only one thing, he had this hunt to at least create a truce between the two hunters.
**
13 hours later, Sam watched as a car pulled up into the carpark. He watched with relief as Y/N climbed out of the driver’s seat. The ice cold air of winter hit her face causing her to gasp. She moved to the back of the car and bundled herself in jackets, sorting out her bags. His eyes shifted to the bathroom. He cringed, he was yet to tell Dean about the call. He’d tried, but his brother hadn’t come back for hours, then Sam was asleep, then it was a matter of how to tell him without him getting mad… His eyes rested on the beds and he groaned. He probably should have booked Y/N her own room, but the thought hadn’t crossed his mind until now. It hadn’t been an issue until now.
Sam stood and made his way to the door opening it as Y/N stepped onto the porch. He frowned as she made her way inside, she didn’t look all that well. Dark circles rested under her eyes, her skin blotchy and lifeless. Her actions slowly and heavy. He wondered when the last time she slept was. A part of him screamed for joy, this was what he needed. The two seeing just how much the other was suffering without them might be that excuse they needed to mend things. He watched silently as she placed her laptop bag and backpack on the bed. She glanced around before frowning at him.
‘Bathroom,’ he mumbled quietly. Her lip quirked slightly, and he sighed. ‘No, I haven’t said anything. He didn’t want to bother you.’
He stepped closer and pulled her in for a hug, ‘It’s good to see you…’ his voice trailing off as he pulled back slightly, unsure if he was imagining things. His eyes grew wide as he dropped his gaze to meet his once almost sister in law’s face. She cringed as he went to comment but couldn’t find the words. The bathroom door opened, causing both hunter’s heads to snap around. Both standing there staring wide eyed at the man in the door way.
 Dean’s chest grew tight at the sight of the woman in front of him. His hands clenching at his shirt as he fought the urge to run over and wrap her in his arms. Time ticked by as she stared at him. Her body trembling slightly. From desire? Hate? Fear? He wasn’t sure. Probably all of the above. Shock. She was definitely shocked. And something else… his eyes narrowed as he watched her carefully. Guilt. He sighed quietly, that was an emotion he knew all too well.
A sound broke through the silence, something Dean didn’t recognise at first. He frowned, watching the blood drain from her already sickly appearance. She stumbled back, tripping on the edge of the rug. Sam lurched forward, managing to grab her and keep her on her feet.
‘Are you… is it…?’ Sam gasped, his eyes dropping to her chest.
‘Fine,’ she whispered, refusing to take her eyes off Dean.
His own gaze followed his brothers and he watched as beneath the oversized jacket her scarf began to move.
‘What the hell?’ he gasped, blinking as he tried to remove the illusion before him.
‘Ah…’
‘Start talking,’ Dean snapped.
She shook her head as her lips pressed into a thin line. Dean moved across the room and pulled down the edge of the scarf. In all his anger, his shock, he expected the action to be rough, commanding, determine. But as he grew closer and heard the soft cry that escaped her chest, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Gently, he shifted the material, watching in awe as the infant squirmed.
‘You touch him, and I’ll kill you,’ she threatened, stepping back. ‘And if it comes to that, you will see just how dangerous I am,’ her eyes flashed dangerously.
Dean held her eyes briefly before dropping them back down to the boy that lay cradled against her in the sling.
‘Is he mine?’
‘Who else’s would he be? I wasn’t the one screwing around,’ she hissed. She moved to step back as Dean’s arm flew out, grabbing her elbow and pulling her in close enough that his deep controlled breaths caused the whispers of her hair to dance around her face.
‘Neither was I,’ he growled. ‘You however, were the one keeping secrets all through the damn relationship and past it,’ he snapped, looking down at the child once more.
‘You wanted to kill me because I was born a damn witch! Do you really think, for even a second, I would tell you that I’ve just given birth? That I was even pregnant? Do you think I’d give you more of a reason to hunt me down? Hell, killing me while I was pregnant would kill two witches with one stone and wipe out a blood line.’
Dean’s jaw dropped, ‘I’d never,’ he gasped. ‘I was anger, but I wouldn’t…not you. And the boy, he’s my damn son, Y/N. I’d never lay a finger on him that could hurt him. I’d kill anyone that tried. You know that,’ he growled. ‘At least, after 14 years I’d like to think you did,’ he whispered sadly, as the tears welled in his eyes as he tentively reached beneath the material and ran his finger along the boys clenched fists.
‘The gun in my face said otherwise,’ she snapped, her body tensing beneath his hand as Dean tightened his grip, refusing to let her step away.
‘What’s his name?’
‘James,’ she whispered, her voice catching.
Sam stepped in closer, and looked at his nephew, ‘He’s cute. Congratulations.’
‘How old is he?’ Dean murmured, his fingers itching to reach out and pull the baby from his sling. To hold him close, but he didn’t want to push his luck, to anger her even more. Instead he settled for letting James’ tiny fingers wrap tightly around his own. He wanted to pull Y/N in and kiss her. To thank her. To yell at her for not telling him. Emotions, thoughts, actions, swirled through his mind and yet all he could do was stare.
‘What time is it?’
‘10,’ Sam frowned.
’7 hours,’ she sighed, tiredly.
Both boy’s heads shot up to look at her, their jaws dropping.
‘Like I said, I was busy and really couldn’t come. But Sammy wouldn’t take no for an answer,’ she muttered.
Dean’s eyes shifted to his brother as he glared at the sheepish looking hunter.
‘I…you should have said,’ Sam argued weakly.
‘Sure, I’ll tell you I’m in labour with the baby you didn’t know about. Have you and his father drop your current hunt that’s killing teenage girls to come hunt me and my kid, who wouldn’t hurt a damn soul.’
‘Once again, would never hurt either of you!’ Dean snapped. ‘I was drunk, hurt, and angry. As for dropping the hunt, hell yes, I would have searched you both out. Now let me hold my kid!’
Her eyes darkened, as anger rippled through them. Dean hesitated, glancing between her and their son. Deciding to stand his ground, he wanted to hold his boy. She wasn’t keeping him from him.
‘Please,’ he whispered.
James let out a squawk causing her to sigh. She reached in, carefully pulling the boy out and cautiously handing him over. Her body automatically positioning itself to attack. Dean shot her a look before dropping his eyes once more. He smiled as his son seemed to mould against his chest. He brought him up, softly kissing his head. His son. It took a few moments before Y/N seemed to relax. Her face changing slightly as she groaned silently. She excused herself and headed to the bathroom, leaving the boys alone the child.
‘I could have killed you for calling her,’ Dean commented icily. ‘Still could. They should be in a hospital somewhere.’
‘Do you really think she would have delivered him in a hospital?’ Sam commented quietly. ‘I’m not sorry. Well, maybe a bit. But I ain’t sorry I called her. I’m just sorry for pushing her to come so quickly. I wouldn’t have if I’d have known.’
The bathroom door open and Y/N stepped through as James started to grow restless.
‘He needs to be changed and a feed,’ she sighed.
‘You need sleep,’ Dean frowned, as he finally took a good look at her. In the 10 years they had been dating, the four they had known each other before that she had never looked this tired or run down.  
‘Doubt that will happen. Where’s this book?’ she mumbled, as she crossed the room to find James’ nappy.
‘Go sit down, I got this,’ Dean said quietly as he lay the baby on the bed.
She looked between the baby and Dean, her eyes voicing more doubt that he ever thought she would have in him. His heart broke all over again as she hesitated.
‘I’m more than capable of changing my son.’
She sighed and made her way over the dining table leaving Dean to deal with James. He listened as Sam gave her a run down on what they had so far. He finished changing James and picked up the tiny baby once more, gently kissing his cheek. He looked over at Y/N, knowing he should hand his son over to be fed, but he didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to give him up just yet. James let out a hearty cry causing Y/N’s head to snap around. Dean sighed and handed him over reluctantly. Watching as Y/N attached the baby to her breast. He stood watching for a few minutes as his son fed. Wondering what else he could be doing, what he should be doing. He moved to the fridge and grabbed Y/N a bottle of water, it was the only thing he could think of. Although she would probably kill for a coffee. He glanced out the window at the diner over the road, that would be his next stop. She gave him a small smile as he placed it on the table in front of her and opened the lid.
‘When was the last time you ate?’ he blurted suddenly as her stomached grumbled quietly, dejavu seemed to hit him as memories of their life together swirled through his mind. When they first met, that awkward clumsy first few hunts where he struggled to work with someone so beautiful. Where he struggled to respond when she spoke to him, smiled at him, interacted in any way. Then the time when he realised that his sudden onset on “teenage-boyism” wasn’t just because they had become friends with the most amazing woman in the world. It was because he loved her. From then it was the increase in confidence, he knew what was going on and what he wanted and by that point he knew one thing, nothing and no one was going to stop him from making her his girl.
‘Ah…’
His jaw tensed as he watched her, waiting for a response. He knew her well enough to know she got distracted easily and forgets to eat. He wasn’t having that. Not now. He may not know a lot about pregnancies, babies and this whole feeding thing, but he knew enough to know the mother had to look after herself.
‘An apple as I left South Dakota,’ she frowned. ‘And not sure about before that.’
Dean’s ice-cold glare hit his brother again, before he walked out slamming the door behind him.
 Y/N sighed, as she glanced down at James. Shifting him so she could adjust her clothing and swap sides.
‘He’s mad at me, not you,’ Sam admitted. ‘He thinks you should be in a hospital still, resting and being looked after. Not here.’
Y/N snorted as James attached once more. ‘Like I gave birth in a hospital.’
‘That’s what I said,’ Sam chuckled. ‘Witch, druid, human or otherwise, you would have never gone to a hospital. I am sorry though, if I had of known I would never have pushed for you to come.’
‘It’s fine, kinda forced the whole here’s your son thing I’d been dreading,’ she smiled.
James detached, rolling off with the milk drunk smile on his face. Y/N fixed her clothing and nodded as Sam held out his arms for the boy. She added an extra blanket before handing him over and picked up the book she had been given to translate.
‘It’s a derivative of Ancient Celtic,’ she sighed. ‘Some words are easy enough to translate but it may take a bit to figure out what I’m looking at.’
Sam nodded, as he cuddled his nephew close. The door opened, causing Y/N to tense and reach for her belt.
Dean looked over at her as he stepped into the room, ‘Just me,’ he said quietly, frowning at her empty arms before realising James was snuggled up in Sam’s arms. He felt himself relax knowing he was safe. He placed the bag of food and coffee tray in front of Y/N and made his way around the table to check on James, taking him from his brother’s arm. Sam started to protest before sighing and sinking back into his chair. Y/N’s lip quirked but she didn’t comment as she opened the bag. Her eyes lifted to meet Dean’s, as she mouthed a silent thank you. He shrugged. The food and coffee were nothing. Not after what she had been through.
 A salad wrap, coffee, and 2 hours later Y/N head snapped up as suddenly as it fell. Dean’s heart broke as he watched her pushing herself just to help them solve this case.
‘Sleep,’ he prompted. ‘If not now, after James’ next feed. You can’t keep going like this.’
‘I’ve run on less,’ she muttered.
‘And you shouldn’t have. Christ, Sweetheart. You’ve not long given birth, driven God knows how far and were in labour before that. You need sleep. If not for you, for him.’
She sighed, watching as their son squirmed once more.
‘Do you have a pram or bed or something for him?’
She shook her head as she stretched, rolling her neck, ‘Not with me. Figured I’d co-sleep.’
Dean nodded as he stood to change another nappy, and get James prepared for another feed.
‘Tell me you at least booked a room?’ Y/N sighed.
Dean tensed as he stood with his back to the two. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Y/N and James sleeping away from him. He glanced at his brother and ex in the small mirror on the opposite, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
‘Sorry, Y/N. I was so panicked about how to tell Dean I’d called that I forgot.’
Dean let out a quiet sigh of relief as he finished dressing James. He picked him up and turned to see Y/N pulling on her jacket.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To get a room, rearrange the car, something,’ she muttered.
‘Stay here,’ Dean suggested. ‘I can help then. Sam too, I guess. But you need sleep. And that ain’t going to happen in the back of your car.’
‘No, but it will come more peacefully if it was in another room,’ she pointed out.
Sam mumbled and excuse and hurried out the door not giving either hunter time to protest his actions. Dean groaned in frustration as the weight in his arms squirmed and started to cry. Y/N took him and settled back into the dining chair.
‘I’d never hurt you, witch, demon or otherwise. I couldn’t,’ he whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he settled into the chair next to her. ‘I’ve loved you for 14 years, Y/N. Even in the heat of all that happened, of what I said, I never stopped.’
‘A part of you did, that’s what made it so easy to hold the gun to my head.’
Dean dropped his eyes to the ground as he swallowed shakily. ‘I didn’t stop,’ he promised as he looked back up at her. ‘I was scared. Mad. Unable to deal with the fact that I was so in love with someone I was supposed to be hunting that I’d missed the signs, that you had been performing spells and killing people under my nose and I was too blind to see it. I was scared that it would all come out, and I wouldn’t get a choice. I needed you gone before I was made to kill you.’
‘I didn’t use magic once, not behind your back. I did location spells, same spells you did. Same spells Sammy did. But nothing ever behind your back. I may have powers, but I don’t use them. I’m not strong enough. Not anymore,’ she admitted quietly.
Dean frowned as he watched her shift, fidgeting with James’ blankets, ‘Explain that one?’
‘To use magic you need to train, to strengthen your mind. I stopped doing that long before we met. Sure, if I was desperate, I might be able to stir a coffee, but I wouldn’t be throwing monsters across the Mississippi any time soon,’ she sighed as she switched sides once more.
Dean nodded slightly. Guilt eating at him once more. He’d never asked her if she had been doing magic. He had just yelled at her. Refused to let her talk. He swallowed, as he rubbed his palms against his jeans.
‘I should have… I wasn’t…’ he sighed. ‘I was a jerk. I should have listened. Should have let you talk,’ he admitted.
‘Should have done a lot of things,’ she mumbled, as James finished and she fixed her clothing. She stood, glancing over at the beds before reaching for her sling.
‘Please,’ Dean croaked. ‘Stay. Let us, me, help. I swear you’re both safe here. I’d never hurt you, you have to know that. I know what I said, what I did, but surely you know I would never have done it.’
She pulled the sling over her head, and gently slipped his son inside. ‘If that were the case, Dean. You would have tried apologising 8 months ago. I will be back tomorrow morning. I’ll finish the translation then.’
Tears rolled down his cheeks as she grabbed her bags and stepped out of the warmth and safety of his room and into the night. Vomit swirled in his throat and mouth as the guilt and anxiety of his choices ate away at him. He buried his head in his hands as he struggled to deal with the mess he had made.
 He barely slept during the night, James’ soft muffled cries waking him every few hours. His agitation growing with each feed his missed out on helping with, each cuddle he didn’t get, each moment of his son’s life that he wasn’t a part of.
As the sun started to peak over the horizon, he was worried he had worn a track deep into the carpeted floors of their room. He grabbed his wallet and phone and headed for the door.
‘Be nice, or she’ll leave and take him with her,’ Sam muttered as he rolled over.
Dean froze, the reality of the fine line he would be walking on sinking in. He hesitated, before taking a deep breath and stepping into dawn. He wasn’t losing his family, not again.
He knocked on her door, letting himself in as she called out tiredly. He took in the woman on the bed, her face more drawn and heavy than yesterday.
‘I brought breakfast, and figured I’d take him while you showered,’ he offered, placing the dish of pancakes, bacon, eggs and toast next to her on the bed. He held out a coffee waiting until she took it before stroking James’s head gently. ‘He’s not a sleeper,’ he smiled.
‘Appears that way,’ she grumbled, as James rolled off, his lips twitch slightly in his sleep.
Dean took their son and sat quietly as Y/N ate. He rocked his son quietly, too scared to take his eyes off him. Too scared to make any sudden movements. To do anything that might upset Y/N or James. As she finished her breakfast, Dean finally looked up to see her hesitating as she glanced at the bathroom.
‘I’ll stay here. We won’t leave,’ he promised, his heart sinking that bit more as she bit her lip. ‘I won’t hurt him or you,’ he repeated once more. ‘If it makes you feel better, I’ll sit in the bathroom with him while you shower.’
She nodded slowly as she reached for her bag, hesitating once more as she stepped into the bathroom. Tears rolled down Dean’s cheeks as he stared at the partially closed door, never in his life did he think their relationship would come to this. That Y/N wouldn’t trust him with his own son. He held James that bit tighter as he kissed his head softly. He had to earn her trust back, and he had no idea how.
She came out minutes later, her cautious eyes running over James’ body.
‘He’s fine,’ Dean said quietly, offering her their son. Not wanting to give him up, but willing to do whatever it took to show her he was a good Dad, that he’d keep the boy safe. She didn’t hesitate in taking him back and looking him over. ‘Y/N,’ he whispered, causing her to look up at him. He tried to speak but nothing came. He had no idea what to say in response to any of this. He sighed and shook his head there was nothing to say. She walked across the room towards the spare bed and packed up the small nappy bag.
‘Do you need anything?’ Dean asked as he watched her. ‘Does James need anything? I’ll go get it if you do?’
She shook her head as she fumbled slightly with the bag, causing Dean to stand and make his way over towards her. He gently took the bag from her hand and zipped it up. Reaching out he grabbed Y/N’s sling and put it on top of the bag, before picking the two up. She offered a quiet thanks as Dean gestured towards the motel room door. He gently put his hand on her back, guiding her towards the door as he had done so many times, his stomach clenching as she froze and tensed beneath his fingers. His hand fell away with a mumbled apology as he stepped to one side increasing the distance between them. He waited until she had stepped outside before following, trying to constantly remind himself that it will take time.
As each hour passed, as each word was translated the unnerving fear that had etched its way into his mind and stomach grew. Each moment that passed was one closer to her leaving and taking their son. She’d barely spoken to him unless she had to, his only blessing was that she didn’t protest as he took James after each feed. He spent each moment memorising his son’s features, taking photos, trying to think of ways to win Y/N back.
‘Can you track it?’ Sam’s questioned tiredly, his voice breaking Dean out of his trance.
Y/N hesitated, glancing over at Dean. ‘No.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ Sam frowned.
‘Doesn’t really matter. Fact is you need to do it yourself.’
Dean frowned, wondering what is was he missed. ‘You figured it out?’
‘It’s most likely a Pooka, basically an Irish troublemaking shapeshifter,’ Y/N explained quietly. ‘Problem is there’s no history of this thing every hurting people before. It just causes issues.’
‘So why are people dying?’
Y/N hesitated, ‘Their saliva is toxic. Based on what I read and what Sam’s said, it’s a kiss of death.’
Dean’s brow furrowed, ‘Kiss of death?’
‘It used to spit on berries, and if you ate the berries that died overnight it would kill you,’ Y/N explained. ‘Year ago, people were fearful of him. Others sought him out for fun, but he was always around. But times have changed, that attention he used to get is gone.’
‘So he’s an attention seeking whore, literally.’
Y/N shrugged as she stood up and stretched. ‘I could be wrong but based on his diary that’s what I can sum it up as.’
‘Ok, why won’t you track it?’
‘Because I said no,’ she explained curtly as she glanced down at James. The boy sleeping soundly in Dean’s arms. Her eyes flickered to the clock and the wall that adjoined the two rooms before Y/N walked past Dean and into the bathroom, he watched her go wondering what it all meant.
‘We can get this thing tonight if she tracked it.’
Dean watched the bathroom door closely, Sam wasn’t wrong. Her ability to track something using a spell was insanely accurate. He now knew why, but he also didn’t blame her for not wanting to do it.
‘You do it,’ he said quietly to his brother as Y/N stepped back into the boy’s room. ‘We’ll hunt it once you have a location.’ He looked down at his son and back up at Y/N before standing, ‘Let’s go talk,’ he breathed quietly. Y/N’s eyes rose to meet his, uncertainty, fear, pain all racing through him. He didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He took her hand and pulled her towards her room. Forcing himself to ignore the tension that grew with each passing second beneath his fingers.
Once safely inside her room, he placed James onto Y/N’s bed and stepped back slightly. The boy barely stirring as he continued to sleep soundly.
‘You can’t leave.’
‘I can actually.’
‘I’m begging you not too,’ he whispered. ‘Please. You’re right, I should have called, messaged, emailed. Something. I should have apologised. But you didn’t do any of that either. And I get why, don’t worry. But you wiped your hands of me too, and I don’t blame you. I figured if you were willing to even try and fix this, to let me apologise you would have answered Sam when he tried calling you.’
‘He wasn’t the one who threatened to kill me! He wasn’t the one who should have been calling!’
‘Would you have answered if I did?’
Y/N went to respond and stopped, closing her mouth. She sighed as she let herself sink into one of the dining room chairs. Dean glanced at James once more before crossing the room and sitting down on the chair in front of her.
‘I wanted to. I went to so many times. But I knew you wouldn’t answer and that I didn’t deserve it even if you did,’ he admitted.
Dean watched her silently as she stared at her hands that rested gently in her lap. ‘I want you back, Y/N. These past 8 months have been the worst of my life. I can’t…’ he blinked back tears as reached out tentively resting his hand on hers. ‘I don’t want to go through that again. This time, to have you leave, to have you take James, that… I can’t do it. Please,’ he croaked. She gently pulled her hands away, leaving him grasping at air. ‘I get it,’ he sniffed. ‘And I know it will take time, but I can’t fix it if you’re not here. I can’t gain your trust if you’re not here. I can’t help with my son, see him, be a part of his life, if you take him away.’
‘But we can arrange to meet -.’
‘I don’t want visitation rights!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t want to have to book in to see either of you. I don’t want to have to get permission to hold my son or find out new things he’s doing from a damn text message.’
‘I don’t want to live each day petrified that you’re going to change your damn mind and hunt us both!’
‘After 14 years of knowing me better than anyone do you really think I would have done that?’
‘After 14 years of knowing you Dean, I know how unpredictable you are. And just how black and white you see the world of the supernatural,’ she admitted as her tears fell freely.
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he shook his head at her, ‘Not for you. Christ, you could be been turned into a vamp and if you thought you could control it, I’d have given you a chance.’
She went to respond when Sam knocked on the door gently and stuck his head in. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘But I think I have a location.’
Dean nodded sadly, gesturing to Sam to give them a minute. ‘Just don’t leave yet. Please. Stay in a separate room, come back to the bunker with us. Just give us time to work this out. Don’t leave like this.’
Y/N glanced over at the bed, refusing to answer, to promise him anything. Dean sighed, standing up. He gently kissed her head, and crossed the room towards their son, leaning down he planted a soft kiss on the boy’s cheek before reluctantly heading towards the door.
‘Dean,’ she said quietly, causing him to freeze. ‘Just to be clear. I will be practicing magic again. Which is why I wouldn’t track the Pooka, I didn’t want it locating me through it if you failed to kill it. I will do whatever is necessary to keep James safe.’
‘I’d be disappointed if you weren’t,’ he admittedly quietly as he stepped outside.
 Dean’s hands shook as he pulled into the carpark. He scanned the carpark for her car, only to realise he had no idea if she was still driving the same car or something different. He pulled up slowly out the front of their motel room, turning the key even slower he cut the ignition as he stared at her room.
‘What do I…How…Sammy?’ he whispered. He had never in his life been more scared, more petrified than what he did right now.
‘Her car’s here,’ Sam admitted. ‘That’s a good thing. Dean, you have to just be honest. And calm,’ he added quickly. ‘Losing your crap won’t help keep her here.’
Dean nodded, but still he felt unable to move. Unable to even shift from his seat as a force beyond his control seemed to hold him in place. Honest he could do. Calm, he wasn’t so sure. He took a deep breath, counting down from 10 he forced his hands and legs to move as he reached 0. He had to do something, to say something, anything that would keep both his girl and his son here.
He approached the door, his ears straining as he listened for any sign of movement, any sign of life, inside the room. He knocked gently on the door, his heart stopping as he waited for a response. Nothing happened. No response. No sound. No invitation. Not so much as a squeak from James. He swallowed as he reached out for the handle. He turned the handle, surprised to find it unlocked as the door swung open. His knees turned to jelly, struggling to hold his weight as he took in the scene in the room. He stumbled inside, the door closing softly behind him as he made his way to the closest chair. He grasped the back of it as his legs gave out completely unable to hold him any longer.
He watched the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, her arms wrapped protectively around the bundle that squirmed within them before settling again. He swallowed as the tears welled in his eyes once more. They were still here; he had a chance.
He had no idea how long he sat and watched for. No idea how much time passed. And yet, in all those minutes, through each of those seconds he failed to calm down. What ifs, If onlys, Maybes, and Why all ran through his mind. It was make or break. Y/N stirred and his heart stopped once more. Her eyes opened slowly, and she blinked at him. He gave her a sad smile as he struggled to find the words.
‘You get it?’
He nodded, unable to speak, to say anything. Y/N’s brow creased as she watched him carefully.
‘Sammy ok?’
Dean nodded, clearing his throat. ‘Yeah. I just…you’re still here,’ he breathed.
She nodded, glancing down at the boy in her arms who was now starting to stir. Dean stood up, crossing the room shakily he reached out, small amount of strength returning to his legs as she shifted her arms and let him take his son. He held him close, breathing him in as he kissed his head. Y/N rose and went to the bathroom, giving Dean a few moments with his son.
‘I screwed up big time 8 months ago,’ he breathed quietly. ‘Worst mistake of my life was letting your Mum go. But I promise you, I will stop at nothing to get her back. To have the three of us as a family. Whatever it takes, however long it takes.’
James’ opened his eyes and blinked sleepily at his dad, a small yawn escaped his lips as Y/N came back into the room. Dean looked over at her, and then down at the boy in his arms.
‘Tell me you’re staying?’
‘I’m willing to negotiate,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I’m not sure on the road and motel rooms is best for him. But I am happy to base myself someone central and have you around to be a part of his life.’
Dean nodded reluctantly, not sure he agreed with her. He needed to keep hunting, to keep fighting. But he needed his family with him.
‘I’m not going to sleep with him so close to these things all the time,’ she sighed.
‘I get it, I do. But I’m not sure how I feel about either of you not being where I can help, where I can see you all the time.’
She nodded as she looked down at their son. Her Y/C/Es lifting back to Dean’s once more. ‘How about one day at a time, one hunt at a time. We assess as we go.’
Dean nodded, that seemed the best option that they had. One foot in front of the other. No commitments, no promises. The option of locking her in Bobby’s panic room if it got too dangerous, and yet being able to keep them close if it wasn’t so dangerous. Most importantly, a chance to make things right.  
She slid into the dining chair, her lips muttering something. He watched wide eyed as the cup filled with coffee. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a thing as she took a sip.
‘Start small,’ she mumbled.
‘Starting with coffee?’
‘Gotta have something to get me through the day. This saves having to leave the room every hour.’
His lip twitched as he nodded, there would be some benefits to her having and using magic. He handed her James watching as she settled in to feed their son. One day at a time. One hunt at a time. One way or another, one time or another, he would earn her love and trust again. He would make his family whole.
  @thegreatficmaster @torn-and-frayed @hamartiamacguffin @illisea @gabavaldman @msimpala67 @tornjeansandabrokenheart @raylin19 @kgbrenner @thatfangirl42 @theskytraveler @upon-a-girl @wishedworld
@scamanders26newtcase @shamelesslydean @calaofnoldor @stylesismyhubs @mrspeacem1nusone
43 notes · View notes
robingirlwonder78 · 5 years
Text
Modern woman Chapter 11 of ?-1940s Bucky Barnes
Warnings:none
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic)
The reader finds out she's pregnant 2 months after he's shipped out. Unwed and determined she plans to make the best of it, with a little help from Steve until Bucky returns home.
A/N: I've been thrilled to write this that being said I decided to slow down so I could only give my best. My last chapter was meh, so I hope this makes up for it. 💜💜 Robin.
Modern woman masterlist
Chap 10
Tumblr media
The war was over, standing on the stoop outside your home people crowded the streets celebrating as news spread that Germany had surrendered. With the demise of Hydra the Nazi regime thought they still had the upper hand, dismissing Hydra as a rogue force bound to fail. After Steve and the Howling Commandos took down the Red Skull they set their sights on Hitler, six months later Germany threw out the white flag.
Little James tucked against your hip, tears stream down your cheeks. The joy radiating from your soul leaked out in peels of tearful laughter.
"Y/N, what's going on out there."
Turning to look over your shoulder at your sister in law, Rebecca steps out the front door to gape at the revelry, with a watery laugh you grab her hand.
"Thier saying the war is over...go turn on the radio and get Ma."
Running in the house Becca turns on the radio cranking the volume up so you could hear it outside.
President Harry Trumans voice crackles through the Philco transitone radio.
"This is a solemn, but glorious hour..."
Gripping each other's hands you both listen as it's confirmed this God awful war was coming to an end. Laughing and crying at the same time Becca pulls you and James into a tight hug.
"Thier coming home....He's coming home. "
"Yes, yes..." A hysterical giggle burst from your lips and you begin to jump up and down kissing James on the cheek. Your toddler clapping and laughing with you, not realizing the weight of the days events.
"It's true.....its over they're coming home."
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
The bar is quite as the radio comes to life with an urgent broad cast from Winston Churchill.
"Yesterday morning at 2:41 am..."
Drinks in hand the whole place holds it breath, the moment unconditional surrender of the German forces is said the whole place erupts into cheers.
Gripping Steve's shoulder with his uninjured right arm Bucky begins to laugh his heart bursting.
"Where going home!!"
"Yeah pal we are" Raising his glass he looks around at the men who risked everything to follow him into the most dangerous parts of the war all in effort to end it. All with the help of thousands both lost and living they had won.
"I can't thank any of you enough, never have I met a group of more deserving men... to victory"
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Standing at the train station with Becca and Winnie you wait with the hundreds of others that have come out to meet thier returning soldiers. Bounce on the balls of your feet, James plays with your hair as you hold him against your side.
It had been four months since the announcement of Germanys surrender, but there had been more work to do. Japan had been holding out, and Steve and the others had been preped to go in. Unfortunately the government had used other tactics to secure Japans surrender. The atomic bombs unleashed on the tiny islands were horrific, Steve and Bucky both disappointed in the methods used.
The sound of the train pulling into the station had your heart pounding, the wheels squealing with the pressure of the breaks. Shifting James to your other side you watch as it slowed, and men began hanging out windows to spy thier loved ones.
On tip toes you crane your neck looking for either Steve or Bucky to emerge from the throngs of people, Becca had resorted to standing on a bench to get a better vantage point.
"I see them!!! Y/N..Ma I see them!!!"
Jumping up and down Becca points and waves her arms laughing with pure joy.
STEVE!!! BUCKY!!!!
Eyes wide you watch as first Steve then Bucky breaks through the crowd, duffles throw over thier shoulder, dressed in standard issue dress uniforms.
Jumping off the bench Becca barrels into Steve wrapping her arms around his waist in a sisterly hug.
"Gosh damn Roger's you grew!!!"
Laughing Steve kisses the top of her head.
"Had to to keep that one out of trouble."
Hitching his thumb over his shoulder Bucky comes into view.
Letting Steve go Becca tackles Bucky, but his eyes are all for you and the little boy whose head was shyly tucked into your neck. Blue eyes like his regard him with interest, then realization falls over his innocent gaze.
D...dada....Da ..dda....DADA!!!!
Eyes wide Bucky gapes as his son reaches for him. Stumbling forward he drops his bag, and pulls you both into his arms.
"He...knows me??"
Smiling as tears drip down your cheeks you nod.
"Off course, I showed him your picture everyday, told him about you. About how much you love him, and that you'd be home soon."
Closing his eyes Bucky leans his forehead against yours and whispers...
"Your amazing..."
Leaning in he kisses you sweetly brushing his lips softly against yours. Just as a small groan floats up your throat, Bucky laughs and pulls away. A tiny pair of arms had wrapped around his neck struggling to climb into his arms.
Releasing you he takes his brown haired little boy and hugs him close.
"Daddies home buddy, and I'm never gonna leave you again..."
Standing in the shadows of the crowded train station, Hydra agent Arnold Brown watches smirking.
"Enjoy victory while you can gentlemen, soon Doctor Zola will finish what he started.."
A prickling at the back of Steve neck has him looking around, an unsettling feeling weighting down his consciousness. They won the war, but is thier days of fighting really over.
Thank you for reading 💜💜
Taglist: @callie-bear15 @lumar014 @fatheadtheroger @redhairedfeistynerd @usernamemingmei @doralupin01 @azriels-forgotten-shadow
49 notes · View notes
buckycheri-blog · 5 years
Text
Revenge || Bucky x reader AU || Part One
Summary : You hate Bucky Barnes and he hates you back, but what happens when you have to team up against someone you both hate even more ? Pairing : Bucky x reader
Word count : 2541
A/N : This is the first part of the Revenge series and I’m super excited ! I hope you will enjoy it, tell me what you think. English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the potential mistakes. 🖤   There will be more relationship development and dialogue in the next parts!
Tumblr media
This party had just begun but you already wanted to go back to your place, far from all these people who seemed to have nothing in common with you. The music was extremely loud yet you could hear uninteresting conversations from here and there, but the only person you were looking for was nowhere to be seen. You were about to give up when a warm hand grabbed your wrist, making you turn around. The sight of this way too familiar face was enough to make your eyes roll, and now you were a hundred percent sure of this : this party was a nightmare.  
  « What do you want, Barnes ?» you sighed, not even trying to be polite. « You’re always so lovely to me Y/N » he said with his usual sarcasm « Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to be a part of my revenge plan. »
  As long as you remembered, you always hated James Barnes. His audacity, his pretentious behavior, the way he talked, the way he laughed at everything and everyone. Sadly you and him had the same friends and this meant that you had to spend time together. Tonight was no different, your friend Nat invited you to this huge party along with Wanda, Sharon, Steve, Thor and his antipathetic brother, Bucky and last but not least, your boyfriend Pietro. You were searching for him when the despicable and annoying James Buchanan Barnes caught your attention.  
« Your revenge plan ? What kind of silly project is that and why would you want my help, out of all these people ? » you complained, gesturing towards the dozens of persons surrounding you two. « I want your help » he declared, getting closer « because when you’re gonna hear what I have to say, you’ll probably want to get that revenge just as much as I do. »  
This caught you off guard. He was angry. He was very, very angry. You hadn’t payed attention to it because you were focusing on finding Pietro, but Bucky looked mad. You frowned, clearly intrigued and you knew he could feel it.
  « What are you talking about, Barnes ? What happened ? »
  He laughed. Yet he wasn’t amused, not a single bit. It was a strangely unsettling laugh, full of irony and now you were not sure if you really wanted to know the answer to your question.
  « My girl just cheated on me » he said, looking straight into your eyes « and she cheated with Pietro. »
  Bucky didn’t let you any time to answer or even think about it. He spoke again, calmly but with insurance and a clear rage.
  « So, are you in ? »
 Six days had passed since that disastrous party, and you had spent those six days locked up in your apartment thinking about all this mess. How could everything have gone wrong in so little time? At first, you thought that Bucky had lied but even James Barnes would never do something so awful, and you had doubted Pietro’s loyalty for a few weeks but you chose to trust him. Idiot. He had tried to call you several times and even came knocking on your door, but you never answered. Then sorrow left and anger came, making you reconsider Bucky’s offer. On the one hand it seemed childish and useless, but on the other hand, the idea of making Pietro suffer just like he made you suffer was tempting.  You slowly got out of your bed, which had been your refuge for the last few days and went to take a shower. The hot water running on your body awakened your sleeping muscles, giving you enough strength to finally decide to go to Barnes'. You then put on the first clothes you found in your closet and a big coat while texting the guy. 
  To : Barnes 💀 At : 11:05 a.m I'm in, Barnes. Will be at your place in 10, you better be there. 
Nat had dragged you to a party at Bucky’s once, his apartment was only a few blocks from yours. You attended the same college but you were not sudying the same things, he was a history student just like Steve. He didn’t answer your text but you kept walking anyway, until you got to his building. 
  « Damn Y/N you look awful, I don't know if I want to let you in now. » you heard the familiar voice coming from above you, making you look up to the third floor's balcony. Here he was, a cigarette between his lips. « You could have at least tried to look human, anyway I’m in a generous mood. I’ll let you in, come on hurry up. »
  Fucking asshole. You were probably going to kill him in the next five minutes if he didn't calm down quickly. You climbed the stairs only to find his door already open, so you went in without bothering to knock. The place was, well, just like Bucky. A mess. There were several clothes on the floor and you noticed the cigarette smell almost immediatly. Apart from that it was quite nice, the decoration was minimalist but the place felt cosy. He finally pulled you out of your thoughts when he slammed the door behind you. You jumped slightly, then silently took off your coat. « Let's make this quick, right ? I thought about what you said and, well, I'm in. They deserve that. » you stated, trying to convince yourself at the same time. He stared at you for a second without saying anything and finally nodded, sitting on the couch.
  « Alright then. Sit down, you look stupid standing there. » You sighed at his usual kindness and then sat at the other end of the sofa. « Did you break up with him yet ? » he asked, and you felt his blue eyes scanning your face but you didn't look back, rather staring at an imaginary point on the wall. You hadn't even thought about it. « I haven't spoken to him since the party, actually. So I guess we're still together, officially at least... »
   You heard him sigh and he sank deeper into the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. When you turned to him, he had closed his eyes and seemed to think peacefully. « Good. That's good. » he finally stated, turning his head so that he could look at you again. « You must not tell him about it, just pretend everything is fine right ? That way it'll be easier to really get him, at least if that's what you really want. » there was defiance in his eyes, just like when he came to talk to you during the party. He was obviously hurt and determined to make them pay for their betrayal. You had thousands of reasons to despise him but you knew one thing, when Bucky Barnes got involved in something, he went all the way till the end. Now there was only one thing to do, prove to him that you always kept your promises too.
  « Of course I do. When do we start ? »
  He smiled, one of those smiles that reflect neither joy nor pleasure, one of those that announce a storm is coming and tells you to get away from it if you want to stay safe. But now you were also part of the storm and it was just the beginning. « We have to establish our plan first, it will probably not be easy and it will take time. I haven’t broken up with Charlotte yet either, I thought it could be the first step. Something big, something she’ll remember for a long time, but she mustn’t understand why because otherwise she might talk to Pietro. » He suggested.
  « Wait a minute, Barnes. Why would you be the one that gets to leave his girlfriend and me, the one that has to stay with her cheating boyfriend? It’s not fair! » you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief. This guy had nerve, in addition to being a douche. « Because it was my idea and if you accept my plan, you accept my terms, doll. » He shrugged, as if it were obvious. He really had no intention of making an effort so it seemed you were going to have to get used to it.   You spent the next two hours developing a plan and as a true drama queen, he insisted that you both signed a contract, probably because he still doubted your will to hurt Pietro back. It was understandable, you were very attached to this boy and everyone knew it. But he had betrayed your trust and now nothing was stopping you from signing the damn contract, so you did.
  « I think we're good here. See you tomorrow for step one, partner. » He said in his deep and warm voice, standing in front of you next to the front door. His blue eyes were once again immersed in yours, both intimidating and expecting. He held his hand out, and you squeezed it without breaking eye contact.  
You could not manage to find sleep that night, tossing and turning in your bed. You'd never done this kind of stuff before and it seemed completely crazy, but it was too late to give up. You sent a message to Pietro telling him you had been sick and that you had spent a few days with your parents, you apologized for not telling him sooner. It was hard, having to say sorry to the boy who had hurt you so much. But you did not have a choice, it was the plan. You spent several hours like that, lying on your back staring at the ceiling, alone with the little voice in your head that told you again and again that it was the worst idea of your life. Screw you and your ideas, Bucky Barnes.
  You were still awake when your alarm went off, you got up and got ready for what was going to be the first part of the plan. Step one : the breakup. You did your best to hide what tiredness had done to your face, then left for college where Bucky was probably waiting for you already. You had an appointment at nine o'clock, so you had to skip your first class to put your plan into action. Eventually, you had to contact Loki for he worked here as a librarian. It was quite ironic knowing that he was the most mischievous person you'd ever met, but right now that was just what you needed. He had agreed to give you the key to the reception office in exchange for some information about Tony, that he would probably use to get take revenge on him for his latest prank. You felt really bad but hey, that wasn’t really your main problem right now. 
  After getting the keys, you had joined Bucky who was waiting for you in front of the office's door, leaning against the wall. He was dressed all in black, wearing that aviator jacket that made him look super badass. It was really unfair that such an asshole could be so hot.  « You got the keys ? » he asked, his voice more determined than ever and you just nodded. For you it was different, your survival instinct told you to get out of here, that it was madness and you really wanted to listen to it. You were not as serene as he was, after all it was the first time that you were going to break the rules. « I sure do, Barnes. Now just do your part of the job, will you ? » You handed him the keys with a trembling hand. You could have sworn you saw a small smile on his lips at that moment and he finally opened the door. « I'm impressed Y/N. Right, let's do this. »     In the lecture halls, the students were soon surprised to hear a deep masculine voice coming from the speakers. The teachers stopped talking, and everyone was wondering the same thing: what could the reception office have to announce in the middle of class? It was usually closed in the morning and nobody seemed to understand, regarding the questioning looks that everyone exchanged, including Charlotte and Pietro who were sitting on the same row.
  « Students, teachers, this is a special announcement. Important informations have just been sent to us, please listen attentively.  »
  You couldn't help but smirk seeing Bucky so proud, talking in the mic. He spoke with a louder voice so that people would not recognize him, and it was very convincing. You just hoped Charlotte was ready to live the most humiliating moment of her life but still, you felt a little sorry for her cause you knew what was coming.
   « It appears that one of our students, miss Charlotte Peterson, has had a bad, bad behavior. Indeed, witnesses saw her tagging the Head Master's car earlier this morning, writing -and I quote-  "Suck my dick mr Allen”. Not very classy, Charlotte.  »
   You bit your lips as you stared at Bucky's fingers, still covered in red spray paint. He went and found the car while you were getting Loki's keys, and everybody knew how much Mr Allen loved his car. The worst part was that it was your idea. He didn’t say it, but you knew he loved it. Not only did he ruin the 1966 Ford Mustang, but he also made a trip to the cheerleaders' locker room on his way back. How did he get in ? Well you had no idea and he would't tell you. His eyes met yours for a second and he winked, looking like a proud kid.
  «I'm not finished. Other testimonies tell us that earlier this year, Miss Peterson developed an addiction to alcohol and hid some in her locker. I'm sure your coach will love this. And finally, the last piece of information we have just received is this one: besides being an alcoholic vandal, Charlotte Peterson is now also single. »
  For the first time, James Barnes gave you a smile. Not a smirk or a petty grin, a true sincere smile. He was proud, satisfied with this beginning of this revenge but also simply happy. It was probably because of the adrenaline, but it was sincere. He cut the mic and got up from the chair, raising his hand up for a high five. You rolled your eyes before slapping your hand against his, he then grabbed your wrist to leave quickly before someone from the security could find you here. You took the keys and ran off, while in the lecture halls, everyone was shocked and rumors were already spreading everywhere. It was chaos for Charlotte who ran away to escape from the hundreds of eyes staring at her. It was cruel, but she had played with the wrong people, and she just started to loose. 
     Your race stopped in the parking lot where the two of you climbed into Bucky's car. This marked the end of the first stage, and many more awaited you both. Oh you still hated Bucky Barnes, but looking at him from the passenger seat, you couldn't help but love the idea of new adventures together.       •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• And that’s it for the first part ! Tell me if you liked it, tell me if you didn’t and why ♥ The relationship between Bucky & reader will of course develop more in the next parts !    It’s been a long time since most of you asked to be in the taglist so please tell me if you want me to remove your tag ! 
  I hope no one is named Charlotte Peterson here    @itsquies @miss-i-ship-it @shaboibucky @daniellajocelyn  @just-add-butter @baby-daughter @tuliptx @blue-flavor  @n7siha @nakxmadeofiron @readanotherfic @problematicpastry @emiliehelstrom @aweways  @xcrawlerwood @footballimaginessss @milladagirl  @dugan365 @janeyboo @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @starkxpotts @xlostinureyesx @dreamingofonceuponatime @buckyr00s @urlindah @5sos-wdw @yafriendlyfangirl @lokigreyvatore  @emilysallysmith @bloodiedskirtts
175 notes · View notes
Text
The Murderess from the Grunewald (18): “Preparing for War” (1)
Tumblr media
“Berlin - View to the Brandenburg Gate and to the Red City Hall” by Interculture01
Previous
         Jamie left the prison through the main entrance. He meant to walk on clouds. Yes, everything seemed to be floating. Although he had said goodbye to Claire ten minutes ago, he still smelled her hair and deodorant. Closing his eyes for a moment, Jamie knew that he would recognize that smell everywhere and under all circumstances.         She allowed him to comfort her, let him embrace her. Secretly, since their first meeting, he had wished to touch her, let his hands slide over her hair. But he had not dared to hope that it would ever happen. It seemed to him that the sudden fulfillment of this wish had opened a whole new dimension of life to him. 'She becomes my wife. She will be my wife! I will share my life with her.' The words ran like a mantra in an endless loop through his head and he felt as if not blood, but pure adrenaline rushed through his veins.         Shortly thereafter, he unlocked the door of his BMW. When he sat down and started the engine, he was tempted to drive the car to the nearest highway to drive its engine out unto its speed limit. That would help him to come down from his adrenaline rush.         But no, today he would resist that temptation.
         He would have done so before. Jamie had not always been the disciplined, thoughtful acting person he had become in the last fifteen years. There was a time when he had lived aimlessly and recklessly. His father was a respected, even famous lawyer, his family had money. What could happen to him? The world just waited to be explored by him! But the painful experiences that life had allotted for him forced James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser to take time to reflect on his life's path.         The first heavy blow that hit him was the unexpected death of his mother Ellen. It was a Sunday just a few days before her 52nd birthday. While the family spent the bright summer afternoon together in the garden of their country estate near Potsdam, Ellen collapsed abruptly next to one of her favorite rose bushes. Jenny, who was setting the table for the afternoon coffee on the terrace, was the first to realize that something was wrong with her mother. She saw her stumble and then fall. Without thinking, Jenny pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and called the emergency call center. Then she called for her father and brother. When her husband appeared on the terrace, she yelled at him to keep the children away from the garden and keep them occupied in the house. Ian did not know what had happened, but he knew his wife well enough to know that her wish would have a good reason. As Jamie and Brian came running into the garden, Jenny was already kneeling beside her mother. But all attempts to help her were in vain. Before the ambulance arrived, they had lost her. Since Ellen had been an otherwise perfectly healthy woman and the emergency doctor didn't find a natural cause of death, he certified an unnatural death. Two policemen came and questioned the family members. Then the corpse was brought by an undertaker to the Brandenburg State Institute of Legal Medicine. There, according to the order of the public prosecutor, the autopsy of the deceased was to be performed. Five days later, the family was informed that Ellen Fraser had died of an (as yet undiscovered) brain aneurysm. Ten days after her sudden death, Ellen Fraser was laid to rest in the Fraser’s Family Mausoleum at the Old Potsdam Cemetery. Although Jamie was already 25 years old at the time, he needed years to process the loss of his beloved mother.
Tumblr media
“Cemetry - Potsdam” by PeterBe
         But his mother's death had not been the first major loss the family had suffered. Jamie's brother Robert had not completed his first year of life. The doctors diagnosed sudden infant death syndrome as the reason for the sudden demise of the third son of Ellen and Brian Fraser. Jamie, who was still a teenager at that time, tried to outplay the grief he saw and experienced in his parents' life. But in his soul, it all left deep traces. For the first time in his young life, he began to wonder what meaning life could have if it could end anytime.         Two years after the loss of his mother, another accident hit the Fraser family. Jamie's brother William, the first born of the family and his great role model, was killed in a car accident. He was only 32 years old. They never came to knew whether it was really the icy road, that caused his car to crash against a tree, or whether William might have chosen that kind of death by himself. Only days before, his fiancée had separated from him. He had met Annabelle a few years earlier in Paris, and for William, she had been the woman of his life. Annabelle's love did not seem to go that far. She did not even appear at William's funeral.         After William's death, the family finally hoped to come to rest and for almost three years this wish seemed to come true. Looking back, Jamie was grateful that his family had used every opportunity to spend time together. However, when one morning - he was working on case files in his office - that call from Mr. Schaller reached him, time seemed to stand still. The steward told him that he had found Brian Fraser lifeless in the hall of his mansion. The hurriedly summoned doctor could only determine the death of Jamie's father. The doctors later explained that a severe stroke had affected Brian so badly that he died of it.         Everything that happened then, Jamie experienced it like through a dense fog. Brian's funeral. The opening of his father's last will. The assumption of management responsibility at the law firm. He was grateful that at least Jenny was alive. Ned Gowan's help in the professional and business challenges that Brian's death brought upon the last son of the Fraser family had been invaluable. Jamie knew, he probably would not have made it without Ned's help.         Brian's death triggered a feeling in Jamie's soul that he could hardly describe. He felt as if his life had come to a point where it could come to an end. He was not tired of life, but in a way, he was fed up with life. Brian Fraser had always been as a big, supporting pillar in the house of his life. He never pushed himself upon his children, but he was always there when they needed him. Jamie always looked forward to working with his father for many more years. Maybe one day he would marry and start a family. He imagined his father playing not only with Jenny's but also with his own children. After Brian's death, this all seemed meaningless to him.
Tumblr media
“Preussischer Kavalleriesäbel aus dem 19. Jahrhundert ” by Silar [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)]
        Of course, there was the law firm that had to be run - now by him and Ned. Jamie was not an irresponsible person. He would fulfill his duties. On the day of his father's funeral, the family saber had been handed to him and now hung in a display above a dresser in his bedroom. The first Prussian-born Fraser to carry this weapon had been an ancestor named Simon Frederick William Fraser. This one of his forefathers had fought in the Prussian Wars of Liberation between 1813 and 1815. Since then, the weapon had been handed down from one generation to the next. For over 200 years now, it had been the indelible symbol that generations of Frasers had done their duty and that this was now expected of him.         But without the day-to-day meeting with his father, their shared jokes, and the earnest conversation about the development of individual cases, he had lost the joy of his past work. In the morning he arose out of a sense of duty, drove to his office out of duty, read and edited his case files out of duty, went to the court out of duty, defended his clients out of duty and drove home again.         Several times he had thought that - had he been born in ancient Greece - he would have made a good Stoic. If there was no other kind of motivation, one had to remember that everyone was responsible for fulfilling his duties. "Happiness" or "becoming happy" could not be a life goal. First, there was no standard for what "happiness" was. Everybody had a different understanding of the word. And second, most of the time what people saw as "happiness" was dependent on external circumstances and therefore always temporary. The fulfillment of duties, however, for Jamie, arose from an inner conviction. Therefore, unlike many others, he did not regard the fulfillment of his duties as a compulsion, but as an integral part of his honor.         Of course, there was Jenny, his sister. But Jenny had her own family, her own duties, her own worries. In addition, his sister had changed so much since the death of her father. Their relationship had lost its former easiness.         But then he had met Claire and it seemed to him that for the first time in nearly four years, the sun would break through the dark cloud he had been living under. He had instantly fallen in love with her and today he had come one step closer.         He would not waste the power that was released in him by this experience in a ride without a speed limit on the highway. He would use this power for more important things. Now it was time to prepare for the "war", to inspect "the weapons" and "the troops".
        Jamie drove the car out of the parking lot of the prison and to his house, adjusted to the speed of city traffic. There he let Bismarck take a short trip to the garden and gave the dachshund some petting. Afterward, he put a frozen pasta dish into the microwave and while the machine was humming, he and Bismarck climbed the stairs to the loft. Ten minutes later he rolled a dusty silver suitcase into the kitchen.         "We'll clean it when I've eaten," he told Bismarck, putting the food out of the microwave and on a plate. Bismarck jumped on the bench and looked expectantly at Jamie, who had also taken a seat.         "No, you will not get anything, you little greedy monster. You'll get some dry food later. "          The dog, who had recognized the rebuke in Jamie's eyes, rested his head on the cushion and let out a loud sigh.         "Character traits like a frustrated human," Jamie thought but avoided looking at Bismarck. A look out of the eyes of the little black sausage and he would give him a noodle. And of course, it would not stay with one noodle. In the end, the devoured little guy would eat half of the pack and if he returned late at night ... Oh no! In addition, ready meals were unhealthy for animals. All these spices, salts, additives! No! No mercy. Not today, dachshund!
Tumblr media
“The look of the dachshund” by Brummeier
         When Jamie had finished his meal, he cleaned the suitcase. Then he filled Bismarck's water bowl and poured dry food into the feeding bowl. Wherever Bismarck was at the time, he had heard the sound and had returned to the kitchen, apparently at the speed of lightning. While the dog ate, Jamie stroked his back. Then he put a bovine chew bone in Bismarck's doghouse and left the kitchen. He stowed the suitcase in the trunk of his car and drove it to Claire's apartment.         Having arrived at Candestrasse, he carefully opened the door as usual, and when Adso did not appear immediately, he entered the house. He parked the suitcase in the living room and then went to the kitchen. Here he cleaned the cat's feeding bowl. Then he filled the drinking bowl with water, took out a can of cat food, and the moment he put the opener on the can, Adso appeared. This time he did not jump at Jamie but sat down expectantly next to the bowls.         "It seems you have learned your lesson, old boy. Well. As a reward, you get a can of 'Chicken Royal'.         He filled the contents of the can into the bowl and the cat began to eat immediately.         "Enjoy your meal!"         Jamie took the door hook from the cleaning cabinet and went to the first floor. There he opened the hatch that led to the loft and slowly pulled down the retractable staircase. When he reached the top of the stairs, he turned on the light and looked around. Then he let out an audible sigh. Nothing had changed. Everything was just as he had left it. Nobody had been here.         He walked over to Claire's desk and grabbed all the books that contained personal notes in a large plastic carry bag he had taken from the kitchen. Then he opened the desk drawers and took out everything that looked like personal papers. He also put these documents in the big bag. Finally, he took the laptop with the cable and put it on top of the books and the papers. He then placed the screen behind the leather sofa so that nobody would take notice of it. With a duster that he had also brought from the kitchen, he wiped the dust from the small table and from Claire's desk. There was no longer any sign that there had been a laptop or books in these places. Carefully he went down the stairs. The bag was heavy and he did not want to accidentally drop it. Back on the first floor, he closed the roof hatch and went down to the ground floor with his heavy cargo. There he opened the suitcase and packed the books, papers, and the laptop into it. When he was almost done, he heard a whining sound from the kitchen. He had shot the door behind him and locked it because he did not want the animal to follow him to the loft this time. Jamie went and opened the door. He expected Adso to come out, stroke around his legs and then follow him to one of the sofas. Inwardly, he had already adjusted to the thought that he had to cuddle the cat for at least a quarter of an hour. But Adso shot past him, jumped up the stairs, and then Jamie heard that the animal pushed open the door to the bathroom. Obviously, there was something more important to Adso than being cuddled. Jamie packed the last things into the suitcase and closed it as quietly as possible. He would clean the litter box the next day. Today there were more important things for him too.         From Claire’s house, he drove to his office. Once there, he greeted Tessa Lüttgenjohann and asked her to bring him a pot of coffee with two cups. When the secretary arrived at his office shortly thereafter, she carried a tray on which the desired items stood. She set the dishes on the table in the sitting area and Jamie asked her to take a seat. He poured coffee for her and him. As he sat down, he began to tell Tessa about the contents of the silver-colored suitcase. She immediately agreed to keep it safely in the basement of her house. Jamie had not expected otherwise. When he first met Joe Abernathy and his wife Gail, he had wondered if Claire and Joe's relationship resembled the relationship that linked him to Tessa. Professional yet friendly, not too tight and yet trusting. Everyone knew that this relationship would never go any further, but everyone would give the last shirt for the other. Jamie was grateful that he had found someone like Tessa, someone he could trust one hundred percent.         Since the death of his father and everything that happened after it, there were not many people he trusted. His colleagues were among them, especially Ned Gowan and Ben Hombach. Tessa Lüttgenjohann and the Schallers. David de Koning and his brother-in-law Ian.          Ian was more than a brother-in-law. He was a true friend. Jenny had met him during a stay in Scotland, fell in love with him and convinced him - in her very own way - to marry her. Ian left Scotland for her, and together they lived with their growing band of children at the country estate of the Frasers near Potsdam. By diligence and inventiveness and of course by the knowledge he had acquired in the context of his studies of agriculture, Ian had changed the former run-down farm estate into a flourishing company again. At first, he had started to order the fields and meadows belonging to the estate. Then he created a management plan for the forest, which also belonged to the estate, and leased parts of it. Ian also started a small animal breeding business, which he expanded a little more every year. First, he bought pigs, then cattle and two years ago he started to build a small stud. In the meantime, Ian's work also bore fruit financially. Jamie, who, like his father, Ned Gowan, and several others had supported the project with a generous financial investment at the beginning, received a slightly higher return each year. He used to visit his family in Brandenburg almost every weekend. He loved being outdoors and spending time with his nephews and nieces. It had always been a pleasure to talk to Ian about his latest plans, and about the visible growth and prosperity of family estate.         But Jamie had not been there for nearly four years. For almost four years he had not seen Jenny or the children in person. Jamie sent gifts to the children for birthdays and holidays. Jenny and Ian got their gifts too. Of course, he also got gifts and card greetings in return. But the only personal connection he had to them was Ian. Jenny, however, knew nothing about it. Her husband had set up an e-mail address she did not know. Through this account - [email protected] - he communicated with Jamie - [email protected] - and also provided him with current photos of his nieces and nephews. Only now and then was it possible for Ian to come to Berlin. Then he combined business with private affairs and met with his brother-in-law. Although Ian had tried several times, he had failed to persuade Jamie to visit Potsdam. Too deep and too fresh were the wounds Jenny had dug into his soul. Ian wondered if they could ever become the family they once were.         After the short coffee break, Tessa reminded Jamie that the next day at 10:30 am, the telephone conference with Prof. Dr. Nerz was scheduled and that she had reserved for him and David de Koning a table at the Ferenc’s for that evening. He had three hours left by that time. However, he should plan at least half an hour of driving time because the traffic news had predicted a traffic jam for the inner city. Just another visit of just another foreign head of state in Berlin. Nothing new. Nothing important. Then Tessa took the tray and turned to go. Jamie thanked her and sat down at his desk.
Tumblr media
“Victory column Berlin” by LoboStudioHamburg 
         He looked out of the large panoramic window towards the Great Star. Twilight had already set in and soon the illumination of the Victory Column would start. Anyone who knew the history of the monument knew that it was not just a monument of a victory after a war. It was a constant reminder of the wrestling of this nation for its liberty and its unity. First in the Liberation Wars against Napoleon from 1813 - 1815, then in the Wars of Unification between 1864 - 1871. For Jamie, it was also a synonym for the resilience with which this country had fought for its reunification the 40 years after World War II. He loved the view from his office because there was something encouraging about the monument. And that encouragement he needed very much. Right now, when he had to prepare a "war" - when it was necessary to "muster" his weapons and his troops.
Thank you for reading. Next time, read “The Murderess from the Grunewald (19): Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (8): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (6)”
50 notes · View notes
lilydeerwrites · 5 years
Text
A Muggle Studies Moment 3: Part 4: A Lily and Sirius Sidequest conintued ...
The motorcycle transaction went well. The neighbor, a Mr. Trevorsmith, was beyond relieved to be rid of the motorcycle. Apparently, his wife was well over it and wanted it gone. He showed Sirius a few tricks to get it started, wrote down instructions about petrol and parts, and took his money gratefully. Lily was impressed with Sirius' ability to remember how to use Muggle currency and to ask insightful questions about the function and care of the machine. Two helmets came with the motorcycle, having belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Trevorsmith during their courtship. Three kids later, she no longer had interest, apparently.
Sirius thanked the man sincerely and politely, but she could see the glee and elation lurking behind his polite smile. The very moment the man went back into his home, Sirius calmly folded the registration papers into his jacket pocket and turned to Lily, offering her a helmet.
"Fancy a ride? You facilitated this whole thing, after all. First ride belongs to you, my dear!"
She put the helmet on and climbed on behind him. "Have you the slightest idea how to drive this?"
He nodded confidently. "I've done a lot of research. Manuals, old videos, anything I could find. Jamie even found me a Muggle game that was a simulator once. It only worked for a few days, but I did my level best. Do you trust me?"
Lily patted his shoulder affectionately. "Well, I know how to ride a bicycle. That's like this but without the motor, so ... won't Remus and James each be insulted not to have the first ride with you?"
Sirius nodded, grinning cheerfully. "Oh, yes. It has to be you - literally. We have to ride it at least to a point of entry for the Wizarding World. And James will be sooo jealous when we get to Potter Manor and you've got your arms all around me."
She laughed. "Poor James. He really has improved. I don't think he's asked me out in months."
"Do you miss it?"
"Not ... exactly. He was awfully annoying, but I do appreciate if he's changed because he's started listening to me."
"That's most of it. Poor old James has always listened to you. Every word you've said in a class, every time you insulted him and us, and every kind interaction he's witnessed with other people. My boy's always had a terrible mouth-to-brain connection problem, especially when he's blinded by wretched, angsty thirteen-year-old lurve."
She adjusted her helmet and said a prayer to whatever might be listening that they wouldn't come to harm on this experimental ride. "Was that all it was? Angsty 'lurve?;"
"You know better than that. James is gone on you. Still. He's just trying to be less of a prat about it. I promise the inside of his head is every bit as ridiculous for you as he ever was. Thinking about giving him a chance?"
Lily tightened her grip on Sirius' middle. "If I don't die today on this motorbeast of yours, I may ask him to go to Hogsmeade with me. What do you think?"
He turned around to face her, his gray eyes filled with more sincere emotion than she'd even thought he was capable of. "I think it's brilliant. You're brilliant, Jamie's brilliant, and together, your brilliance will outshine the damn sun. I also think I need to be extra careful not to land us in the hospital wing. It's a lot of pressure, taking your best mate's girl on a motorcycle ride when your best mate doesn't even know he's got a girl yet, right?"
Lily laughed. "What if instead of 'his girl,' he's my boy? How do you like that?"
Whatever Sirius said was lost in the sound of the motorcycle's engine revving to life. She was glad of the muffling effect of the helmet, and extra glad of the firm grip she had on his waist when the machine suddenly lurched forward. Both of them swore, and Lily had to stop herself from using her magic to ensure their safety.
A moment later, they were tentatively moving forward, only slightly jerkily. They did a slow circle of the block, and then another as Sirius became more familiar with the controls. Lily had to admit that he appeared to have done his homework. He knew the names of the parts and was making good headway on smoothing the transitions and increasing their speed. When they pulled into the Evans family's driveway and turned off the motorcycle, Sirius couldn't help giving a quiet (for him) whoop of joy.
Lily's mum met them in the driveway, smiling. "Well, look at the two of you! I could hear you coming - that thing is awfully loud. Come inside, get comfortable, both of you!" She looked at Sirius, then back to Lily, then to Sirius again. "I'm so glad that Lily's brought a friend home to meet the family. Sirius, is it?"
Sirius smiled politely. "Sirius Black. Thank you for inviting me to join your family for dinner, Mrs. Evans. It's so nice to meet you."
Again, Lily found she barely recognized the polite boy who stood beside her. "Let's go in. I'm so ready for your pot roast, Mum! I've missed it."
Sirius followed Lily into her parents' home, his stomach suddenly tight with anxiety. He had never been in a Muggle house before, and he didn't want to slip up and say something ignorant or upsetting. His internal monologue wasn't helping. Right. Don't fuck it up. I always manage to fuck things up, and this is no different. I'm a disgrace. Mother was right ...
He looked up, startled, when Lily touched his arm, directing him to the chair beside her. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were already seated, as well as a sour-faced girl he assumed was Petunia. She might have been pretty if she hadn't seemed so very determined to look at both him and Lily as though she smelled something foul. Something about her reminded him of his cousin Narcissa, and that was enough to kickstart the manners that had been ingrained into his subconscious since he was a small child. He pulled out Lily's chair, waited until she was seated, then sat down himself, his posture perfect.
The Evans parents seemed impressed, but Petunia sniffed and pointedly ignored them.
"It's good to meet you, Sirius. We're very glad that Lily is getting on well at school and making friends," Mr. Evans said, offering Sirius a smile. "I'll admit, Lily's er .... gifts ... are still a bit of a mystery to us, but we're glad she's thriving. Lily tells us you two are in the same house and have some classes together?"
"It's quite nice to meet your family as well, Mr. Evans. Yes, your daughter and I are both in Gryffindor House, and she's known to be one of the brightest students at the school. You should be very proud."
Mrs. Evans smiled, patting Lily's arm affectionately. "We're quite proud. Now, how did the two of you become friends? I'm very curious, as I've heard a few names over the years - Mary, Marlene, Severus, and Remus, mostly - but how did the two of you meet?"
Next to him, Lily was starting to blush. "Mum!"
Sirius took it in stride. Of course her family might think they were more than just friends. After all, Lily was every bit as gorgeous as he was. Any parents, with the exception of the bigoted, abusive set he had lucked into, would have thought they were a lovely, well-matched couple. He knew the Potters would have thought the same thing, and probably Remus and Pete's parents as well. He explained calmly, "Lily and I met as first years when we were eleven, but I'm afraid my best mate and I didn't make a very good first impression. It wasn't until this year that I - well, I had some problems, and your daughter may have actually saved my life. I was ... hurt, you see, and no one was around, but Lily was making her prefect rounds, found me, and got help. After that, she kept checking up on me to see that I was doing all right, and now we've become good friends."
Mrs. Evans addressed her daughter, "Why have I heard nothing of this heroic deed, darling? Surely if you saved a boy's life, the first person you'd tell is your mother!"
Lily was squirming uncomfortably, and her gaze kept darting to her sister. Petunia looked like she wanted to stab Sirius and Lily both with her fork, possibly in the eye. Lily was clearly desperate to get her parents' attention off of herself and onto her sister, but the Evans parents were too blinded by pride to see what was going on. It was a different dynamic from Regulus watching as Sirius took all of the blame and punishment for the both of them, but those experiences had made him very aware of sibling dynamics. He felt for Lily and even a little bit for Petunia, despite her sour expression and the mean things he knew she had said to her sister. He caught Lily's eye and gave her hand a quick squeeze under the table.
"I must say that it's lovely to meet you as well, Petunia. Lily speaks of you often," he said in his polite-est, most House of Black voice.
Petunia seemed startled to be addressed, and torn between being impressed by the possible status hinted at by his accent and manners and disgusted at the idea that he was one of them. For his part, Sirius honestly could not have cared less, but the relief on Lily's face was reward enough. He wondered idly why all families couldn't be like the Potters, who wouldn't have minded if James fell for a Muggle, a Muggleborn, or anyone at all, so long as it made him happy?
"Does she?" Petunia replied, somewhere between incredulous and resentful. "I rather thought that awful Snape boy was her only friend. Lily has always had a tendency to be rather exclusive with her few friends."
Sirius laughed. "There is where you and I have a bit of common ground, Petunia. I can't say I'm terribly sorry to see her friendship with ‘that awful Snape boy’ come to an end. Did you know that he's quite bigoted against those students born to Muggle families? I personally can't imagine why someone would choose to be a bigot about attributes one has no control over." He gave Petunia a pointed look. "Why, that would be like if your family decided to hate all wizards based on pure ignorance."
Under the table, Lily stepped on his foot, signaling that enough was enough. He knew he'd pushed a bit, taking a shot at both Snape and Petunia, but she didn't look mad.
"That's right, Tuney. I was telling Mary and Marlene about your engagement, and how happy I am for you. They asked me about your taste in dresses - they're very interested in Muggle fashion, you see, and I told them that it was all quite new and that I knew your favorite color was green, and that you favorite simple, classic lines. Was I close?"
Petunia glanced at her parents, whose attention was, for once, on her, and smiled, albeit a bit tightly. "Quite close, only Vernon's aunt does hate green, so I think I may consider pink or lavender."
The conversation continued, with Mrs. Evans and Lily enthusiastically asking about possible venues and other wedding-related isssues, and Sirius internally sighed with relief. The pot roast was delicious, and he was hungry, even after their hot dog snack earlier in the day. With the attention off of him, he was able to eat and allow himself to relax a little bit. There was a motorcycle outside, a Muggle motorcycle, and it was his. All he had to do was get through this dinner and he would be on his way to the Potter estate, where he could house and tinker with his prize. He couldn't wait to show the rest of the Marauders. He knew that James would be willing to help him and ride with him, but part of him hoped that Remus was at least a little bit impressed with it. James was going to be so happy he might actually explode when he found out that Lily was planning to ask him to Hogsmeade. He was looking forward to witnessing that reaction even more than he was looking forward to showing off his motorcycle. Well, maybe not quite as much, but it was definitely close.
3 notes · View notes
moonysfrexckles · 7 years
Text
Her Boys
It was a stormy night. Ravaging winds and eviscerating rain had swept in from the West, following a summer of nothing but eternal sunshine and hot spells. The skies were dark and swirling, and the road shone slick with water.
The old manor house stood largely unaffected, solid and unwavering in the face of such an onslaught. The trees groaned, shifting with the weight of the wind ploughing into their trunks, and there was a little broom shed that’s foundations looked as though they would be pulled from the earth and the wooden panels of the walls would go splintering. Other than that, there was nothing.
Until a figure appeared out of nowhere.
It was largely unremarkable, for the wind made one’s eyes hard to trust, but one minute there was solitude and silence, and with the next bout of storm, a boy stood in its place.
He was relatively tall, though his body was racked, and he was shivering violently. He ran with fear lacing his strides, clutching tightly at the thick cloak wrapped around him and lugging after his heels an old leather trunk.
The boy stopped only when he got to the house, collapsing against the doorway, gasping sharply for air. He knocked desperately.
There was no answer. Nobody even stirred.
But then, a light flickered on above him. And another. It was like a game of dominos, each light lit quicker than the last, until the door was flung open and a yellow warmth devoured him.
“Sirius?”
James Potter stood in the house, glasses shoved onto his nose, tired eyes slowly widening. His hair was stuck up in all possible directions.
Sirius tried to smile, but he could taste blood and knew it was more of a grimace.
“Dear Merlin,” James whispered.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” Sirius offered quietly.
It was only then that James noticed the trunk behind him. He didn’t waste another second, throwing the door wider and ushering his friend inside, taking the trunk from his cold and clammy hands and hauling it into the entryway. The door slammed shut behind them.
James had seen many things in the five years he’d spent being friends with Sirius Black. He had seen him thrash around in the dead of night, pleading to an invisible man to stop, flinching and crying out when they didn’t. He had seen him determined and loving ferociously, stopping at nothing to make sure that Remus Lupin was not alone when the rest of society seemed to believe he should be. He had seen him cold, when the hatred burned through him, black as his namesake and eyes. He had seen him euphoric and free, laughing like nothing in the world could touch him and at one time, James had believed that to be true.
He had never seen him like this.
Sirius’ eye was swollen, purple and bulging, protruding from his ashen face like a stone from water. His lip was bust, still oozing blood, and there was a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, ugly and grey and pink. James knew that if he lifted Sirius’ shirt, even a fraction, he’d see identical bruises, like a meadow spreading up his skin.
He was shaking, trembling so vigorously, James was sure he would burst. He was convinced that Sirius would explode and everything he’d ever felt, everything he’d held inside of him, would come ricocheting out, all the red and gold and black traversing through his veins.
“Sirius,” whispered James, and he felt his throat close up. Without saying another word (he wasn’t sure he could), he pulled the smaller boy into his arms, hugging him so closely, so tightly, as if this embrace would make all of Sirius’ broken parts fit back together. But then James wondered if he wasn’t whole to begin with.
The two boys stood there, clutching onto one another so firmly they left marks. Sirius sobbed into James’ shoulder, fingers clenched around the material of his pyjamas and James didn’t mind that he was now as drenched and cold as the storm outside. His brother was safe in here, in his arms, and if it meant he had to hold him for an eternity, James would do so in a heartbeat.
“James, darling, what-?”
Euphemia Potter stopped at the foot of the stairs. She breathed in sharply, and her words were lost.
“Sirius, love, is that you? What’s happened? What’s-? Oh my.”
She didn’t wait any longer, rushing over and she bundled both boys into her arms, hugging them to her body as though they were till children in need of a mother’s embrace, and she felt Sirius cling to her, melt into her warmth.
Euphemia realised he had probably never felt the love of a mother’s embrace before. She made sure to hug him tighter.
She patted his back to let her go, pulling away and wiping at her eyes, sniffing resolutely. She cast a drying and warming charm on him, smiling softly, holding his face tenderly in her hands. “Love, we need to get you out of these clothes. You’ll freeze to death if not. James, run and get him some of your pyjamas.”
James seemed hesitant to leave his friend, but his mother’s eyes urged him and he set off at a sprint, returning mere seconds later with a pair of clean Quidditch nightclothes, emblazoned with snitches and Puddlemere United. Sirius hardly had the effort to jab at James’ shocking allegiances.
“Can you walk, dear?” Euphemia asked him, brushing away some hair by his eyes. Though her face didn’t show it, she wanted to flinch at the sight of him. A child. And yet, here he was, beaten and bloody, almost a pulp. She tried to lead him upstairs, but he collapsed in her arms. “No, it’s okay. We’ll get you on the settee for tonight and move you upstairs to your room tomorrow.”
With James’ help, they gently led Sirius over to the settee, and Euphemia procured blankets and pillows to wrap him up with. She flicked her wand and a fire leapt in the hearth, bathing the room immediately in heat.
“I’ll just go and get some balm for his eye, and see if we have any potions for his bruises. I-”
“Mum,” James cut her off.
She fell quiet and the two looked at the broken boy on their settee. He had settled into the cushions, burrowing into their warmth, with the blanket tucked right up to his chin. In the firelight, the purple of his face made him look haunted, nearly dead. James’ throat clenched up at the thought and he cast it away instantly, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of his brother’s chest.
Euphemia felt her heart melt. A sad smile formed at her lips. “I’ll be right back.”
Luckily, because they had a son as danger prone as James, their medical cupboard was well-stocked, and she was returning in no time with the necessary balms and potions and a warm cloth to wipe away any blood, but as she stepped back into their living room, she stopped in her tracks.
James had climbed under the covers beside Sirius, and was snoring peacefully, the smaller boy tucked against his chest. He had his arm draped over her son’s waist, and every now and then, his hand would seize into a fist and he’d clutch the material of James’ shirt. James absently stroked Sirius’ hair.
Euphemia faltered.
She and Fleamont had always had trouble having children. They had thought, as old as they were, that they might be condemned to live in a big, empty house, happy and in love, though missing something, missing the echoing of laughter and the high-pitched glee that followed it, spiralling out of control, and yelling after ghosts that sprinted down the hallways and slammed doors and made messes in the kitchen, and trailed mud into the house after a day spent dancing in the rain-
The day she found out she was pregnant with James was the happiest of her life, and though he was her blessing and her joy, it had come at a cost, and she was warned that another childbirth would kill her. And so, the dreams of a big family with several children had bubbled down to one child, whom she loved with all her heart.
Now, however, she thought that wasn’t true.
She laid the tray of medicines down on the coffee table, before quietly moving over to her boys. She pressed a lingering kiss to each of their foreheads, and pulled the blanket further up, making sure it covered their feet.
Euphemia stopped in the doorway, looking back once more at her sons.
No, she didn’t have one child. She had two.
904 notes · View notes
the-and-peggy · 7 years
Text
Adieu
Word Count: 2,542
Author’s Note: A little Hamliza fic I was inspired to write recently. No, this is not historically accurate. I’m sorry, please don’t kill me! I’m also sorry in advance to the people I promised to ruin, but I still love you, and hope everyone else likes it!
Sunlight was just beginning to filter in through the window when Eliza’s eyes opened for the second time that morning. She rolled over onto her side, her hand reaching out towards the other side of the bed. She was surprised to find it empty, the blankets pulled neatly underneath the pillows.
“Alexander?”
Eliza’s voice echoed through the otherwise empty room. She sat up in the bed, leaning against her own pillows as she looked around. It took her a moment to notice her bedroom door was left to hang slightly open; she stared at it in confusion as she slipped out of the bed, distinctly recalling having closed it the night before. Reaching for the shawl that had been tossed carelessly on a chair by the bed, she wrapped it around her shoulders and stepped closer to the door. It was only then that she remembered what had occurred only hours before, when she had woken up initially.
It had still been before dawn when she had risen from their bed, looking for Alexander, who had been missing from her side. She had found him sitting at his desk in the corner of the room, the last few inches of a candle burning just bright enough to illuminate whatever writing he had been working on. His words struck her as she looked over at the desk, now empty in the early morning sun. He had gone off to an early meeting, something Eliza was sure he wouldn't return from until at least noon.
She shrugged off the memory and continued into the hallway, where she could hear the younger children stirring and climbing out of their beds. A small head of deep brown curls poked itself out of one of the rooms, rushing over to Eliza with bouncing steps.
“Mama!”
The young girl was hopping in front of her, arms outstretched as she demanded to be picked up. Eliza lifted her gently, allowing her to wrap her little arms around her neck in a hug. Smiling warmly at the child, she placed a soft kiss on the girl's cheek.
“Good morning, Liza,” she whispered in her ear. “Did you have sweet dreams, my darling?”
Liza nodded her head enthusiastically, turning her head to kiss her mother in return. Eliza put the squirming girl down as another one of her children came out to greet her.
“Morning mother.”
“Good morning John,” Eliza replied. The boy stepped fully into the hallway, smiling at his little sister. He quietly pulled the door closed behind him, where two of her other sons were still asleep.
“Liza, has little Philip woken up yet this morning?”
“No mama,” she said, reaching for her mother’s hand. “But I'm hungry! Can we eat?”
“Yes of course,” Eliza chuckled, wrapping her daughter tiny fingers in hers. She looked over at John, who nodded at her and began to head down the stairs. Liza raced after him, pulling her mother along. Another laugh bubbled out of Eliza’s throat as she was dragged into the kitchen. Just as she was opening a cabinet to find something for the children, there was a knock on the front door.
Eliza turned her head towards the sound, startled that someone would be calling so early in the day. She closed the cabinet and moved away from the children, pulling the shawl tighter around her shoulders. John and Liza both watched her, the little girl whining about her breakfast. Eliza opened the door and looked out at the man that was standing there, her mouth opening in surprise.
“Mister Pendleton, good morning. My apologies though, Alexander is out at a meeting.”
Pendleton stood still for a moment, his deep eyes looking over Eliza. He knew the slight smile currently gracing her face would not hold for very long. He frowned at his own thoughts and reached into the pocket of his coat. Eliza followed his movements with her eyes as he pulled out a letter, addressed to her in her husband’s handwriting. She reached for it with trembling hands as he held it out to her.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Hamilton. I was with your husband this morning. He entered into a duel this morning with Aaron Burr, and…”
His words trailed off into a grim silence as Eliza gasped, the letter already partially open in her hands. Tears began to flow from her lashes, falling down her face in a steady stream. Her mind could not help but wander to Philip, her eldest son, her pride and joy; had her Alexander really been so stupid as to have suffered the same fate? One hand rose to her throats as she fought for breath.
“So he… is he…” She struggled to form the words in a coherent sentence, fighting back against the tidal wave of emotion that crashed over her. She did not notice John and Liza as they appeared at her side, peering around her to see what was going on. Pendleton’s eyes drifted down to the pair of them as he responded, already knowing what she was trying so hard to get out.
“No, ma’am, but he has been shot. He was taken to the home of William Bayard where a doctor is currently attending to him. I was sent to retrieve you at his request.”
Eliza stood there in shock, tears still rolling down her face. From her elbow, a little voice piped up, slicing through her sorrow.
“Mama, what's wrong?”
Her mind began reeling, suddenly trying to find a suitable way to tell her five year old daughter that she was about to lose her father. The words escaped her, so she forced herself to make eye contact with Pendleton.
“If you'll just allow me a minute to change and make sure my children are in order, sir. Then I would like to leave immediately.”
“Yes of course,” he replied quietly. “Take your time, ma’am.”
Eliza moved so that he could step inside, then closed the door behind him. She finally turned back to her children, her brain focused on one singular thought: getting to Alexander.
“John, go wake your brothers. James will be in charge of you all until I return, and I'd like for you especially to watch Philip.” The boy nodded and turned to sprint up the stairs. Eliza kneeled down in front of her daughter, taking her small hands once more. The little girl was whimpering softly, confused and afraid.
“Liza, I need you to do something very important for me. Do you think you'll be able to help?”
“Mama, what's wrong,” she repeated sadly. “Where are you going?”
“Don't worry about it right now, darling,” Eliza whispered, gently caressing her face to comfort her. “But I have a very important job for you, okay? I need you to play with Pip after he wakes up. Do you think you can do that?”
Liza nodded at her mother, not quite understanding what was going on. Eliza kisses the girl’s forehead and offered her another smile before standing up again. She felt better by a slight fraction knowing the little girl would be occupied with her brother and not thinking about the scene she had just witnessed. She went back upstairs to her room and changed into a proper dress. Once she was ready, she spoke to her children once more before letting Pendleton escort her out the door and into the waiting carriage.
Eliza sat silently for the entire ride, and Pendleton made no move to start a conversation. She stared out at the streets of New York as she rolled past, taking in the familiar view of the city as it awoke for the day. The sun moved on the pavement as it rose higher in the sky. When she could not stand to look upon the content city streets, her gaze turned to the letter in her hand. It took a great deal of courage to open it fully in her hands, and she could not stop the new wave of tears that fell over her as she read through it.
Finally, the carriage rolled to a complete halt, and Pendleton was up and out the door before she had moved an inch. He looked back at her still form, extending a polite hand to her as he waited to help her to the ground.
She found the strength within her to force herself up. She took his hand and stepped down with a grace she was surprised she still possessed in such a distraught state. All poise was lost the moment her feet hit the ground. Eliza suddenly found herself rushing towards the door of the house before her, desperate to see her husband while he still had breath in his body.
Pendleton followed quickly behind her, leading her through the halls as she entered and realized she had no clue where she was headed. It took a great effort to keep pace with her while simultaneously guiding her to the correct room. He came to a stop outside one of the doors in a long corridor, his hand reaching for the handle before she could grasp it herself.
“Mrs. Hamilton, now you must understand that what is beyond this door is not something that will be pleasant or easy to look at.”
“I wish to see my husband,” she demanded coldly. “I do not care for the state of the room or whether the view will be pleasant. He has been shot; that will obviously not be easy to look at.”
Pendleton bowed his head respectfully and turned the handle on the door, allowing her to race past him. The first thing that hit her was the smell. It reminded her of the stench of the city during the war, filled prominently by the scent of blood and sweat. Alexander was alone in the room, the doctor having left a few minutes previous to allow him some privacy with his wife upon her arrival. She immediately fell to her knees at his side, reaching for his hand to wrap in hers.
“Alexander,” she choked out,, her throat closing in on itself. His eyes opened as his head turned towards her, the usual determined sparkle only marginally dimmed within them. A pained smile pulled itself across his lips as he curled his fingers around Eliza’s, trying to offer her a gesture of comfort.
“Eliza,�� he responded, taking a deep breath. “My meeting didn't go over very well.”
“How dare you! Do you think this is funny?”
“No, of course not, I only-”
“You lied to me. Again! You lied to me, and you ruined everything. And over what? What score was so in need of settling that you chose to do this to yourself?”
“Burr accused me, I had to-”
“I wasn't asking you to respond,” she said icily, glaring at him from her spot. “I thought you had changed; after everything we went through, after Philip…”
Eliza looked away, her eyes glancing out the window to avoid his. Alexander lay there, his hold on her hand tightening as a tear slipped down his cheek. His other hand was pressed to his side, just over the wound that marked the entrance of the bullet into his body.
“I thought you knew better than to do something so inexplicably stupid.”
Her words sliced through his heart, cutting deeper than any knife or bullet could ever pierce, and wounding him doubly more so than he already had been. He had no response. There was no justification for his actions. He had made a fatal assumption that Burr would not have the fortitude it took to shoot a man; he himself did not possess this, he had realized, when he aimed his pistol towards the sky. He had thrown away his shot, in every way it counted.
So he laid on that bed, Eliza’s hand in his, his wound becoming more infected and leaking more blood each second. Alexander could not bring himself to speak, knowing no apology he could offer would make up for what he had done to his darling Eliza and treasured children. It was over an hour later before either one of them spoke again.
“Don't forget me,” he whispered, breaking their silence. Eliza looked up at him, mouth falling open to respond when he cut her off. “I know. I have no right to ask for anything from you, but this final favor I beg of you. Don't forget me. All the wonderful things our lives held for us, they are precious and innumerable. And while I know I could never live up to be the man that you married all those years ago, I hope that you see a fraction of him now in these words.
“I regret every mistake I have ever made, and every wrong I have ever done to you. While I have changed, you have stayed ever constant, and I know I do not deserve the time I was gifted to spend with you. I love you more than anything, even though there were many days when I did not show it. For all my talk of legacy, only now have I truly come to understand what seeds I have sewn and wish to share with the world when all that I am is dust beneath the ground.
“You are my legacy, Eliza. You, and each of our children that will outlive me. And if I have done nothing else right in this life, at least you will live on to carry my story in your hearts. My story was never my own, I see that now. It was tied to you, the effervescent light that has shone for me over the course of my life, even when all seemed overwhelmed by darkness. I will regret each moment I spent, and will continue to spend until I breathe my final breath, unworthy of your devotion. Don't forget me, I pray, don't forget that my love for you was always my most redeeming quality when all other facets fell away. For I will love you even when I am gone, and for every moment that my soul exists.”
“Alexander,” Eliza murmured softly, taking over once more by her tears. “Alexander, I for-”
“No,” he shushed her. He caressed her face gently with the tips of his fingers, and could feel his strength fading as his breaths grew more shallow. “Do not say these words, for you and I both know you could never truly mean them after all I have put you through. I know for which realm I am destined once I pass on. Having the forgiveness of an angel will not deter such a judgment.”
Eliza was sobbing fully as she leaned closer, pressing a tender kiss to his lips as his face continued to grow pale. He offered her a genuine smile this time, using the remainder of his strength to pull her hand to his mouth and place his own kiss there.
“Adieu, best of wives and best of women. Embrace all my darling children for me.”
With those final words, repeated from the letter he had written her, Alexander’s eyes closed for the final time, and he breathed his last breath as his soul slipped away.
@chuckisgod @hamlltvn @fandomsinabookshelf @secretschuylersister (hi yes, tagging you in hopes that you read this, sorry <3) @imagineham
20 notes · View notes
reputablehqs · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media
E U N O I A.
   (noun). | yooˈnoiə |
a well mind
beautiful thinking
NAME: levi calderon
AGE: twenty-three
PRONOUNS: he/him
OCCUPATION: associate investment banker at calderon maddox
SECRET: he is selling his father’s company’s stock and donating the money to charity.
FC: xavier serrano
R E L A T I O N S H I P with S T E L L A
They grew up together, their families practically one thanks to their family’s businesses being tied together at the name. Levi and Stella’s great-grandfathers had created their own wealth, using their intelligence and charm to create what would become the most successful investment banking group the city had ever seen. They were babysat together whenever their parents had events to attend, and when they were old enough, they made fun of the snobby, rich couples trying to suck up to their parents’ wealth. Levi and Stella had always been friends, but it always felt as though their friendship was built artificially, not through genuine interactions. Although they were thick as thieves when they were kids, they slowly grew apart as time passed, realizing that there were others that they clicked better with, who maybe accepted them better for who they were. 
Still, they were never completely out of each others’ lives – they attended the same university, were in similar social circles, and of course, the dinners and galas never stopped requiring their attendance, so they would see each other now and then. Having been one of the few people who actually knew his mother personally, she was even there for him (albeit briefly) after his mother’s passing. It was at one charity event (a Saturday after the longest week Levi could remember) when he spilled. Too much whiskey was consumed on his end, and quickly, he was unloading his frustrations as she listened intently – of course, Levi himself has no memory of her helping him back to his apartment, no memory of her telling him that she was planning to disappear soon. After she actually disappeared, Levi had shrugged it off, and was even happy for Stella, who had told him at a young age how she dreamed of living along the coast of the French Riviera, indulging in fine champagne and sitting front-row at the Monte-Carlo Masters and marrying a famous tennis player. He thought she was going to go live out her dreams – never in a million years did he think she’d actually disappear. Never in a billion years did he think that she would return, especially with information he never remembered telling her. Levi is scared shitless, to say the least, and with an unsatisfied mind, he is determined to figure out what is behind all the strings she’s been pulling.
E U N O I A is currently closed.        BIOGRAPHY FOUND UNDER THE CUT.
Despite being two weeks early and causing his mother to endure a surprise caesarean section,  Levi Christian Calderón was born into the world with big, curious, hazel eyes,. His mother had called it–she believed he would one day have the knowledge and power to bring a force, a change to the world. Little did she know, as frail and and in-awe that she was, how right she would be. From pointing to the Van Gogh and Picasso originals lining the walls of the Calderón Mansion in the Upper East Side in his high chair, to highlighting newspaper articles for new vocabulary words, Levi never stopped wanting to learn. What’s this, how’s that–the boy simply did not stop asking questions. He’d read books until 3 AM as a kid, snuggled up in his father’s desk chair with a blanket wrapped around his knees, flipping pages until he conquered his latest endeavor.
With all the questioning and shoulder-tapping, most would have thought that Alejandro and Jane Calderón, Levi’s loving (and madly-in-love) parents, would have grown tired of answering questions that prompted thought, perspective, and impartiality. In fact, Alejandro, who was the Chairman and CEO of Maddox Calderón, only the most prominent investment banking group in the world (the position, naturally, was populated only by the offspring of Levi’s great-grandfather and his partner, James Maddox, the original founders of the company), was ecstatic to realize how dangerously smart his son would be when he became of age to succeed his role. On the flip side, Jane, one of the loveliest and humblest women to grace the streets of the Upper East Side, was simply overjoyed to see that her son shared the same curious mind she possessed. Jane, the founder of the international non-profit organization called Enfantisse, was quick to feed into Levi’s spirit of inquiry, inviting him along on her global trips to conferences and visits to teach him about the cultures of the world.
Levi, of course, jumped at this chance: as a young child, despite his closeness with books, he was ready to escape the confines of the spacious, crown-molded rooms and explore the genuine, colorful tastes of the world. From age seven, Levi jumped willingly onto his mother’s private jets, notebook in hand, ready to learn. They traveled to African cities where he helped install plumbing and painted desks for local primary schools, taught kids his age in Thailand how to read and write in between games of soccer, and most of all, absorbed every piece of knowledge he could. Cultures, recipes, jokes, signs–but the most important thing he came back with was a passion to learn languages. Upon entering St. Jude’s, Levi picked up verbs, words, and conjugations like no other, mastering several languages before even reaching his high school years. During his holidays, he’d fly off with his mother once again, ready to show off his newfound Swahili skills to the locals he had met just a summer prior. Simply put, he loved seeing the beauty in the world, and believed that the more he knew, the more he could understand, and the more he could appreciate about the world.
As Enfantisse grew, Levi’s mother’s job became less about the hands-on experiences she had once spent all her time doing, and more about spreading awareness, attending conferences, and educating others of the Calderóns’ status about their work. Slowly, the trips decreased, probably just around the time when Levi’s father started pressing him to focus on his schoolwork–he had reached the start of his high school career, after all. He excelled in his work, becoming a model student in his humanities classes, but struggled in his STEM-related coursework–it wasn’t that he wasn’t smart enough to understand, his mind was just elsewhere. For Levi, his thoughts were at the top of Mount Kilimanjaro, or climbing the steps of the temples of Kathmandu, not solving second differentials or determining the molarity of an acid. He was brilliant–any one of Levi’s teachers could see that, he just needed a little guidance on where to prioritize his thoughts. You could often see him reading a book on his way home from school, tucking a pencil in his pocket so it could be ready for him to underline profound passages whenever he pleased.
With a little help from his parents and his guidance counselors, Levi blossomed into one of the best students St. Jude’s had ever seen–acceptances letters were thrown in every which way (although, his last name did help in that regard), and soon, Levi was moving out of the Calderón house and into a dorm room at Columbia, the school his entire family had attended since his great-grandfather first immigrated to the United States. For once, Levi’s father was not worried about his son’s future in the banking business–Levi was smart beyond measure, talented, passionate, and charming, and finally knew where to put his head. Twenty-year old Levi was just beginning to get his life in order when his mother was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Since the moment her medical results came back, the Calderon family was in shambles. The lively Spanish culture that once colored the family turned into a monochrome grey, with smiles seen seldom around the house. The joy and love that was once flooded the halls of the Calderón Estate vanished; once Jane’s fight with cancer ultimately ended, nothing was the same. Alejandro turned cold, channeling all his energy and anger into his work, never really giving Levi the time of day. As father and son grew apart, so did Levi’s drive and commitment to his family.
It was one day, after Levi and his father held another heated argument in his father’s study, when Levi slammed the door, eyes watering, and bounded up the stairs to revisit his mother’s old studio. A photographer, Jane had always loved to capture her moments around the world and write journal entries about the things she had learned, the cultural differences, and what she would have wanted to do better in each location she visited. He found her desk untouched, her camera still loaded with pictures from her most recent trip to Paraguay. Immediately, the tears that had pooled up in his eyes started flowing down his cheeks, the beauty of the world through his mother’s eyes overwhelming him completely. He missed her, dearly, missed her perspective, her knowledge, her passion, her compassion. Levi took the camera and her journal home with him, spending hours reading through her entries and looking at her photographs. It was then when realized that Levi fell in love with storytelling, and knew that he wanted to continue her legacy.
Between long hours at the office (of course, at Maddox Calderón), Levi found time to teach himself photography. Slowly, still life became landscapes, landscapes became portraits, and portraits made Levi sorely miss his time traveling. He checked in on Enfantisse from time to time, and while they were still steadily increasing their outreach to children all over the world, Levi wanted more for them. He wanted to build a school year, hire more staff there–most of all, he wanted to be out there himself, just as his mother had done just years prior. In his daily life, he felt almost sick handling money the size of some nations’ GDPs, and wondered just how far one transaction could go. He crunched numbers in his bed at home, chipping at the little free time he had to figure out how he could siphon some money out to help the kids he had known growing up.
Little by little, he started selling minute percentages of stocks that came to his desk, making sure that the money he would take would be small and insignificant enough that no one would notice–and immediately began donating this money under an anonymous name to his late mother’s organization. Today, he still juggles between hiding from his father (not that he truly gives much attention to Levi anyway, aside from social events and company business), and struggling to come to terms with what he truly wants to do with the rest of his life. While he wants to honor his family by taking on the job of running their company after his father retires, Levi cannot help but feel drawn to the travels and the concept of continuing his mothers work–and writing about and photographing the world, just like she did.
0 notes
darinb · 6 years
Text
Success 1- How to Achieve Success in Life
Success in Life is something everyone wants. Every single one of us wants to be successful in life. No one starts out life with the dream of becoming a failure. You ask a child what they want to become in their life, they says things like, “I want to be a fireman, a doctor, a pastor, a mother.” No child wants to become a drug addict, a wino, a homeless vagabond or a criminal. So where do we go wrong as we grow, and how can we achieve lasting success. And by lasting, I mean eternal, not something that blossoms for a few years here in earth then fades to nothing in eternity?
youtube
WHAT DOES SUCCESS LOOK LIKE?
What does success look like to you? It looks different for many people, depending on what they themselves are into. Success for a footballer might be playing for their country or winning a premiership, while success for a musician is having a hit record. A painter wants to sell a painting for megabucks, while a businessman sees success as making money or climbing the corporate ladder.   So what constitutes success in life for you? Is it having a nice house it? Is it being famous or being praised by your peers? Is it finding the right wife or husband? What does success look like, and what do you actually pray for?   Genesis 24:12 (ESV Strong's) And he said, “O Lord, God of my master Abraham, please grant me success today and show steadfast love to my master Abraham.   Now many people have prayed for success in finding a life partner… some may be doing that right now! But many of us have prayed for success in exams, sports, business or other things in life. We tend tell God what we want to have happen and pray for success, for Him to crown our efforts and bless us with success.  
I’M SO CONFUSED ABOUT SUCCESS IN LIFE!
  As Christians we often have a confused view of what true success in life actually is. When surrounded by other people constantly pushing to succeed, people of faith often struggle with the place and pursuit of success. The world tells us what success should look like, but for believers we have a vague notion that this isn’t real success and that God has a better plan, right?   Some believe material success always represents a compromise of spiritual convictions. Others feel success signals that God is pleased with them. I believe that neither of these extremes are necessarily true.   Still other Christians say they are not interested in success, and many use their lack of striving for success as  an excuse for poor performance in key areas of life. If we cease to strive for success, we often satisfy ourselves with a second rate performance.   The issue is not whether we as believers should strive for success, because every one of us would agree that God deserves our best, but the real issue revolves around the question of what success really is.   The issue of success is complex and charged with emotion. But these observations may prove helpful:    
1.      TRUE SUCCESS IN LIFE IS DEFINED BY GOD NOT MAN
  True success in life is defined by God, not by man and what people tell us constitutes success.  We often pray for God to prosper us, and it is His desire to prosper us to success as defined by Him.   3 John 1:2 (ESV Strong's) Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul.   3 John 1:2 (KJV) Beloved, I wish above all things that you may prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers.   So God wants us to prosper, in health and every way, but above all He wants our souls to prosper, clearly a different measure of success than the world offers!   Worldly success, the success that we are constantly told to strive for, implies striving to meet a set of standards established by a person or group. Those standards may be false or true, but I would suggest that they do not constitute true success. For the Christian, only God can define true success! Consider these people…   Marilyn Monroe, Kurt Cobain, Sid Vicious, Janice Joplin, Heath Ledger, Robin Williams, Amy Winehouse, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ernest Hemingway … so many have achieved incredible success in their field of music, writing or acting, they were famous, they were rich, but found that when they achieved the success for which they strived for,  the result was an emptiness inside, and they took their own lives.   Mark 8:36 (ESV Strong's) For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?    
2.      SUCCESS IN LIFE EXACTS A COST
  Obtaining success in life always involves a cost. It requires time, ability, and resources that may have been better invested in other areas. For example working long hours may bring a temporary promotion but you might lose the joy of working, lose your relationship with your spouse or weaken relationships with Christians who keep you joyful and accountable.   What good is it to work hard getting a business off the ground only to find that you lose your family because you are never home?   Then again, sometimes investing long hours in a job may be exactly God’s plan for this particular season and this job. We cannot sit back and hope that success will roll on down the line to us. Thomas Edison once said, “Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.”   So any success in life takes effort... Your job is to invest the effort where it achieves long lasting, eternal and true success in life .   Colossians 3:23-24 (ESV Strong's) Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.   Everything worthwhile costs something. As Gordon Hinkley said, “Without hard work nothing grows but weeds.”   It costs you time and commitment to come to church, to do the Bible reading plan, to attend a connect group, but they are great steps towards success in your relationship with God. Don’t invest time, money and effort in a short term gain… play the long games for eternity!  
3.      EACH PERSON CAN CHOOSE WHAT TO PURSUE
  The pursuit of success is made or denied by each person. No one can make someone else pursue success. You might say you want success in a particular area, but I can’t make you pursue it, only you can.   I have seen Christians pursue all kinds of things, some good, some bad, some important, some just a complete waste of time. So which successes are wise to pursue, and which are foolish to pursue?   Joshua 24:15 (ESV Strong's) And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”   The pursuit of success is a choice… your way, or God’s way?   As we pursue success—and as we choose what success to pursue—we can ask three questions:  
Who determines what success means for me? You, your parents, your family, your church… or God?
What am I choosing by pursing this particular success? Am I choosing the eternal or something temporary?
What should I, and should I not, invest to achieve this success?
  A STORY OF FAILURE AND SUCCESS
  Luke 5 tells the familiar story of a time where Peter and his fishing partners, James and John, went fishing and caught nothing. This is an interesting story of both failure and success in the life of Peter, a man we can all relate to with real triumphs and also real failures in his life.   The thing that turned his failure into success is really quite simple. I mean, he had fished all night and caught zip! This is roughly the equivalent of my fishing prowess.  But when Jesus came on board his little boat, things took a dramatic turn.   Jesus gave specific instructions that a somewhat reluctant Peter followed.   Luke 5:4-7 (ESV Strong's) And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking. They signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink.   Now Peter and the boys had been fishing, they had been doing what was their calling, their skill. They had been striving for success as they understood it, for prosperity in fish. They had chosen what to pursue, you could argue it was their God given mandate as fishermen, and they had certainly toiled and worked hard.     Peter’s problem up to this point, which had caused him to have empty nets, was that he was engaged in undirected service. In other words, God had not told him to do what he was doing, he had just assumed that if he worked hard God would bless his efforts.   But there was no lasting fruit. There were no great results. There was no success, not because he was sinning or out of God’s will.  He was working and getting nowhere, spinning his wheels trying to get success, and the result was that he had toiled all night and caught nothing.   Like Peter, maybe you know what it’s like to try and do something for God, only to end up failing.  Hopefully, the principles we’ll be looking at over the next several weeks will help you discover where you went wrong, and help you to really attain success in the areas that matter.  
NOT AS THICK AS SOME
  I must confess, I am pretty dopey at times when it comes to situations like this.  Instead of pausing to reevaluate, I just knuckle down and keep plowing ahead, hoping against hope that things will get better, often finding I dig myself further into the mire rather than out of it! Is anyone else like that? Sometimes I think if brains were dynamite I would struggle to blow my nose!   How often we have begun a work for God that bears no fruit, because we have not really been directed by Him… but we’ve chosen what we think God wants and told Him to bless it? How often we have entered into a business deal or a relationship that is a disaster, because we failed to consult with the Lord. And even then, we don’t ask a Him or pull out, we ignore Him and keep plowing on!   If we are smart, we will learn to fail forward—which means that we will learn from the mistakes we have made and hopefully not make them again.   I’m sure that, looking back on the fishing expedition, Peter could quickly see that while the job he did was not bad or evil, he was outside of the will of God. He was not being directed by God. And when he finally obeyed, when he reluctantly did as God told and directed him, he saw the success he longed for.   And I believe many times in our lives, we miss what God wants to do, because we don’t take the first step. We don’t ask God, we tell God what we want to do and demand He bless us. And if we do ask, we often don’t listen and obey.   Proverbs 16:9 (ESV Strong's) The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.   If you want God to tell you His agenda for your life for the next month or the next year, you’re not going to get it. God establishes our steps one at a time. He wants you to obey Him and take the first step He has already shown you. Why should He roll out His plans for your life when you won’t even obey the first step, or the next step?   Many times we don’t see what it is God wants to do in our lives.  We just say, “I don’t want to do that”, or “thanks God, I can take it from here!” So we end up missing out. God wants to do something great in your life. He wants to do a miracle, He wants to move you into unbelievable success, eternal success in your life, but you have to obey.   If we live our lives God’s way and in God’s timing, our nets will be breaking, just as Peter’s net was, because it is directed service. How often have we wasted days, months, years, or even a lifetime pursuing things that are not the will of God for us.     Success, you see, true, lasting, eternal success, depends on you simply yielding to God, giving your life totally to Him and asking Him onto your boat—or into your life. But it also depends on you being obedient and allowing Him to be in control. There are many choices in life, and many of the choices are good. But you don’t want good choices, you want God choices.  This makes all the difference in the world. Same for the church… we don’t want good choices, we want God choices!  
ONLY ONE SHOT AT LIFE
  This week I attended the funeral of a lovely young lady called Ruth. She has gone to be with the Lord, and I can tell you there is nothing so sobering as sitting in front of a coffin and contemplating your own mortality. Ruth’s short life of only 32 years was a life well led, and much loved. Likely you will get a lot longer than she had, so what will you do with the time you are given on earth. What will they say on your gravestone with all the years you’ve been given?   Hebrews 9:27 (ESV Strong's) And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment,   We all, you and I, have an appointment with death. God may call us home in 40 years time, or perhaps much sooner than that. You don’t get another life, you don’t get a rewind button, you cannot unscramble the egg that is your life, your choices, your successes and your failures.   Statisticians tell us that 3 people die every second, 180 every minute, and 11,000 every hour. That means that every day 250,000 people enter into eternity.   So what will they write on your gravestone? Will they write that you were a great businessman, or a great mum? What success will you be remembered by?   More importantly, how does God see your successes and failures? If this is the only life you get on earth, how can you make it a success for eternity, a success in God’s eyes? Someone one said, “Only one life, twill soon be passed, only what’s done for Christ will last.”  
WHAT IS THE SUCCESS IN LIFE YOU STRIVE FOR?
  So what is the success in life you strive for? Many people simply don’t strive for any success in life at all, but are content to just float along, wasting the gifts God has given them. I don’t know about you, but I want more than that! I want to serve Jesus with all of my life, because that is fruit that lasts.   Many people are just treading water in their life. They are merely marking time, instead of enjoying real success in their lives. Their favourite day of the week is “someday.” Someday my ship will come in. Someday my prince (or princess) will come. Someday it’s all going to get better. Someday my life will change. Someday, when I’m financially set up, I will start serving the Lord. In a recent study ninety-four percent of the people surveyed said they were simply enduring the present, while “waiting for something better to happen.”   But here’s what people don’t plan on. They don’t plan on death. And they never envision it coming around the corner unexpectedly. When you’re young you tell yourself, “I don’t have to even think about that for another fifty or sixty years.” And that may true, or it may not be true. But death knocks at every door.   In this series on how to achieve success in life, I want to shake us all out of our comfortable existences and open out eyes to the greatness of what God has called us to be, not just for ourselves, but for our families, our church, our community and our nation. I don’t care how successful you are in business, in your job, in the stock market or realestate or bitcoin. That stuff fades, falls, and I want to challenge you today to lift your eyes and focus on the Lord, and do what He calls you to do. I challenge you to take your eyes off worldly success and focus, even strain and strive towards eternal goals, the true success in life God has for you…   Philippians 3:13-14 (ESV Strong's) But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.   Most of us are afraid of dying, but many of us are also afraid of living. Afraid of trusting God, afraid that His success may not equate with success that we want. Paul earlier said this…   Philippians 3:7-8 (ESV Strong's) But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ   Paul laid all his earthly success aside, the fame, the fortune, the learning, the earning, the prestige… everything, and he saw that true success is what we do for the Lord.   You have one life. You can waste it, you can invest it in something that ultimately doesn’t matter, you can put the nets out and order God to bless your efforts, or you can ask God what He wants to do with your life.   Question: What is the success in life you are striving for?  Is it what God wants for you? Does it really matter in eternity?   Now give it, whatever it is, to God right now.
https://ignitechurch.org.au/?p=2399
0 notes
survivorsweden · 7 years
Text
Linus’ Jury Answers + Closing Statement
Tumblr media
Sam
Hey Sam. For you're question all I can say is to make the jury want to vote me I was kind to everyone, and I think I did play a strategic game and physical game that could impress people. Even though I truly do despise Zak, during the game I wasn't rude to him (Until jury answers of course, I don't care what he has to say at this point), and everyone else I was friendly with, and thats why I was shocked to hear that Nic hates me and game completely aside after its all done I hope I can patch things up. I didn't do anything too much flashier than anyone else sitting next to me, but I really do think I was the strategic glue to the Stolkholme alliance and thats why people should want to vote me. If this isn't a good enough answer for you my favourite ice cream flavour is cookies and cream :) .
Jay
Thanks for the kind words man, I kinda needed to hear some positive right now <3
Nic
I've heard I offended you in some way, and Im sorry to say I really don't know what it is I did. I really didn't have anything against you, like, at all, in any way shape or form so I'm really hoping when this is all over we can patch things up :( . I'm really not an artist so don't judge my drawing too harshly on the look, but Ill give the description and hopefully the meaning will still be what matters.
Tumblr media
I drew each of these pictures for everyone to show how I saw people in this game, and my perspective of them  in and out of the game (Out of game only if I've met them elsewhere).
Jordan: I drew Jordan as a firecracker because he was so explosive and crazy in this game. You never knew what he was going to do, but he was always ready to blow and completely try and change things up so thats why I thought this was the perfect picture for him.
Ashley: Ashley is just downright one of the sweetest people I've met in the org community, so thats why I had to draw a birthday cake. She brings joy to the people in the game with her and she is super kind and can always make your day better :) .
Josh: Now, I drew Josh as a rat. Not just any rat though, the rat from the story of the Chinese Zodiac. In the story, the animals all had a race to determine the order of the years of the zodiak. The rat wasn't the fastest animal by any means, but he was one of the most clever. Unknown to all the other animals the rat was able to climb up onto the ox's (Who was the fastest animal) head. The Ox was in a huge lead most of the race, but the rat right at the end came out of hiding and jumped right ahead of the ox with a second to go winning the rat the the very first year of the calender. Thats how I've always seen Josh. He isn't particuarily an agressive player, but he is super utr and can go unseen to come out ahead right at the end. This almost happened in the first game we played together, and I have a feeling had his alliance ended up on the right side of the numbers in this game the exact same thing could have happened since 0 eyes were on Josh this entire time, but he was still liked and strategic enough to come out of nowhere and possibly take the gold if he had gotten near the end.
Zak: Crazy soccer mom, see my response to Zak's jury speech and it's self explainatory.
Jay: I see Jay as a knight in shining armor to his allies. He was the one who when karlskoga started to divide he kept it all together. Jay was the one trying to be as loyal as possible, and as I saw in my short time in the Athena series he will fight to the death for the people he considers his allies, so a valent knight was perfect for him.
Nic: I've told you before Nic and I'll say it again, I saw you as the ultimate underdog in this game who kept managing to pull through and get further. The odds were against you at almost every step of the way but you kept trudging through in order to get just a bit further, and I have massive respect for that. So, for you I have drawn a picture of the childrens story The Tortoise and the Hare. The Tortoise is probably one of the most wellknown underdogs in all of literature, so thats why I thought this was fitting for how I saw you in the game as you were able to defy the odds time after time.
Drew: Drew I saw as Superman in this game. He was one of the only people who could do better than me in many challenges, he had won this before and hew as the person I looked upto, he was smart and hyper loyal. He was easily one of the biggest heroes of the season always being honest with people (IE the Ashley vote) when he voted them out. I definitely put him on a pedistal throughout the game, and thats why even if maybe he wasn't the biggest threat I thought it crazy that anyone could beat him at the end, and thats why I have drawn him a picture of superman.
Duncan: It's probably impossible to tell because I suck at drawing, but this is a picture of former US President Bill Clinton. My impression of Duncan was always that of a politian. He was insanely charismatic, and had easily the best social game out of everyone as far as I could tell. I also felt to an extent though he was playing every side. I couldn't tell if this was because he was like me and didn't want to hurt anyones feelings, or if he was a bit of a schemer. Either way Clinton was also a little bit of a liar with the whole perjury thing, but also the most charismatic leader in recent US history netting one of the highest approval ratings of any president in history.
Sam: For Sam I gave a bit of a personal drawing. The person in my picture is someone I went to highschool with named James. James was in my math class, but we also had a lot of the same friends. For whatever reason though James and I just never talked to much, possibly because I think we were both very shy people :( . I did really want to be friends with him, and thats why this applies to this game, Sam and why I drew this picture for her. Sam was someone I really thought was cool the few times we did talk, and one of my bigger regrets was not getting to know her better much like with James.
Zakriah
I've never actively disliked someone in this community except for you. You inside this game and outside have been a complete asshole to me for zero reason, and the reason I blocked you wasn't because of your jury speech, I had long been planning to after this season was over so I would never have to hear from or talk to you again. You're a self righteous prick who can't even see the irony in calling me a bad person when you have wished I would die in a terrorist attack and repeatedly done nothing but be rude and disrespectful. I don't respect you as a person, so this answer is strictly for anyone else who was wondering the same thing. I said that I was going to drop at f4 because it to some extent was going to take a target off me. Tim in bbcan4 did a similar thing iirc, and Drew here did something similar as well.  I understand this could lose me jury votes since my social game was already criticized (And understandably so, I understand where I went wrong in some peoples eyes), but I'm not going to just back down and suck the school bullies dick to hope to do slightly better in some online game. I hope one day you can get over yourself. Goodbye forever...
Jordan
Hey Jordan! Thanks for the question and this was something I actually am really disappointed with how I went about the event that went down, so if you hold it against me from a jury perspective I totally understand, but I'd like to explain my thought process. When you made the offer I was genuinely going to consider it like I told you. After we hung up and I went back on the other call the jig was basically up instantly since we like, left at the exact same time and I got asked if I was talking to you. What I'd wish I did here was tell you before we hung up that if asked, I was going to say you spoke to me, but act like it was just out of the question that I could ever turn. Now, the problem is obviously I didn't tell you before I hung up, so I figured I'd shoot you a message that that would be what I was going to do, but Josh had sent his message first and then you got back on the call and the whole ordeal went down. I was actually still going to consider it and tell you the next day that my mind was made up that I couldn't just flip on my allies, however I heard you were talking to Sarah and the Linus flipping plan was down the drain in your eyes already so rip. The intention wasn't to sell you out, but my execution was a bit flawed. If you still think really poorly of that situation, well shit happens right and I was still glad to play with you, but hopefully you can understand a bit better my thought process. I figured I would message you before a confrontation to explain what I was doing since I got called out quickly, but that just didn't happen in time.
Josh 
Like with Jay thanks for the kind words, it's always fun playing with you :)
Drew
I know you didn't ask me anything, but I want to take this chance just to talk to you since we couldn't until now. It means a ton that you would still like to be friends after the game because that was stressing me out non stop after your boot. The truth of the matter is although I do lie decent amount, to close allies I play this game with my heart completely on my sleeve. This isn't the first time this has happened to me where I've won f4 immunity and told a close ally I would keep them. The reason for this is easily my biggest strategic fault, people I've made close bonds with it kills me inside to vote, and I just don't want anyone to hate me and Im too much of a coward to tell a friend to their face that Im voting them out. The anxiety about making someone hate me makes me too scared to say anything, and that (One other time in particular) has completely ruined the friendship in the long run. This form of self sabotage is easily what I would describe as my biggest fault in the game where I want to play to win, but I also cant bear to hurt anyone I care abouts feelings, which just makes everything worse when I panic and don't warn them. It means so much that you prefaced this with that you still want to be friends because my real worry after this was that you would never want to talk to me again and I instantly regretted the move from an emotional standpoint way more than any strategic one. Thanks for not letting this effect our friendship.
Closing Statement
As crazy a ride as this has been, and whatever the outcome I truly am glad I got to meet and play with the people in this game. Im glad I finally got to play another game with Ned as well, and even though this has probably been stated enough already, after the game I hope I can patch things up with anyone who I have got on the nerves of. I really think I have played a strong game, and I hope you will at least consider voting me, however no hard feelings obviously either way. See everyone at the end <3
0 notes