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devilfic · 4 months

Text

❝small favor❞

V. the christmas special.

parts: previously / next plot: it's the most beautiful time of the year. pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: christmas shenanigans, alcohol mentions, harry gets drunk for norman osborn related reasons, peter is a little ball of anxiety because he likes you, can I share with you what jobs I think ned and mj got after graduation. words: 8.4k.

a/n: this was gonna be a two-parter but I thought. no. so instead it's just super long :D

Peter has started visiting more.

There were the surprise visits on weekends. Something was just too important to wait a week, and too important to give you a call, and you liked that he made a note of bringing you food for the trouble. Then he was popping in on Wednesday nights—sometimes Friday mornings—because he'd forgotten to tell you this or he just couldn't wait to tell you that.

And he has texting you more, too. Not super serious things either, and after a few days of it, you had worked the fight or flight reaction to his ringtone out of your system. At some point, you had started feeling like this was becoming... a genuine friendship.

"I mean... I... yeah. We talked about it, didn't we?" Peter stops pouring, brownie batter dribbling off the lip of the bowl, "Friends. I- I think of you as a friend. If you think of me... as a friend."

You gnaw on your pen as you study him. It's another weekend surprise visit, and this time he's brought you boxed brookie batter as an olive branch. You'd actually been busy this time, and so you'd put him to work baking it while you made your vacation list, "It's just... crazy. I mean, we went from being strangers to only seeing each other once a week—purely professionally—and now you bake me things. And we hang out."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just weird," he continues to pour as you talk, "I used to see you as this unattainable hero. I couldn't believe you trusted me, felt comfortable enough to tell me your name, to care enough that even EDITH knows who I am. And now we're friends."

Peter's nose scrunches at that, and you've never wished more than now that you could see the rest of his face. He starts placing balls of cookie dough in the batter, "You talk about me like I'm Beyoncé or something."

"You're the Beyoncé of superheroes."

"Hey, that is not true. That title goes to Captain Marvel."

"Not to me."

"Well, of course not to you. You're my biggest fan."

"Wow, demoted to a fan already."

Peter slides the pan into the oven, "You know what I mean. You're biased."

"You're starting to sound like Jameson now."

He kicks the oven door closed and hops up onto the kitchen counter next to you, nudging your knee with his knee, "Oh, you haven't heard my Jameson impression. Watch this." Peter clears his throat, clenches his fist, and shakes it in the air, "Spider-Man is a menace and should be charged with domestic terrorism!"

You giggle, "Do more."

"5G isn't giving your kids cancer, it's Spider-Man leaving his webs all over the city!"

"More!"

"Spider-Man is laying eggs in our city's sewers so that one day, all his freaky spider children will rise up and take over New York!"

"Please, keep going."

Peter groans. You see his head tilt toward the notepad in your lap, "How's the vacation going? Or vacation planning, I guess."

You sigh. Your list to pack kept getting longer, and yet, anytime you tried to focus on what to bring, you would just remember something else you needed to do before leaving New York. "How do you think, based on my utter lack of excitement?"

Peter raises a brow, "Whaaat? You're not excited for Miami?"

"I was, but... everything in the world is happening at the same time. Jameson wants me to get two more articles out before I leave and my family wanted me in Florida three days ago. At this rate, I'm just barely going to make it there before Christmas. Not to mention..." You trail off as you look to Peter, whose mask eyes have gone comically wide in interest, "I don't want to leave you all alone."

"You know I've been Spider-Manning since I was like, 14, right?"

"Well, yeah, but- wait, 14?" Peter grimaces. You gloss over it before he can worry himself about it, "Anyway, I just worry. I mean, with Fisk turning the PR tide and God knows what he's planning, I don't wanna just fly to the other side of the country. It feels wrong."

Peter smirks, "Nah, nah. It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"Don't make me remind you about how all of this," you gesture between Peter and the oven, "started." He looks away from you, sheepish. "You know what I mean, right? Maybe I'm overestimating my worth to you, but-"

"You're definitely not. You have no idea how much you mean to me." That stuns you. It stuns both of you, clearly, if Peter's frantic peek at your face was anything to go by. His mouth gapes like a fish out of water for a moment, "I just mean that... you've made being Spidey... easier on me. It's nice knowing someone's actually on my side in this city. So yeah, it will feel really weird without you being just a swing away."

"You can still call, Peter. I won't mind."

"And when your family asks who's bothering you while you're sunbathing on the beach?"

"I mean, my little cousins will be impressed if I name drop Spider-Man."

He smiles. He kicks his feet out, heels bumping the cabinet doors beneath you while silence settles. You take this chance to examine a slight fraying on the fabric of his suit, a hole beginning to form on his upper thigh that you could just fit your pinky through. You remembered a time when his suit was made out of sweatpants and a dream.

He was 14 when he first started all of this. When you were 14, you were stressing over high school essays and alien invasions. You couldn't help but think that maybe he'd lost his youth to this thing. This thing that brought you together.

Spider-Man who, back then, was really a kid. He'd had to grow into it. You couldn't imagine having to grow into that. "Well, that's enough about my holiday plans. What about you?" Peter prepares to answer, then deflates. "What's up?"

He bites his bottom lip, "I don't... have any."

Your heart sinks, "What? Why not?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll probably be out on patrol making sure everybody else is having a safe, criminal-free winter break."

Sliding off the counter, you come to stand in front of Peter with your arms folded, "Absolutely not."

"Okay, before you say anything-"

"It's Christmas, Peter! You're supposed to take time off! Be with friends and family. If you never take a break, you'll wear yourself out."

"Just hear me out-"

"No! I won't have it. You're not the only hero in New York. You're taking Christmas off. I don't care if I have to stuff you in a carry-on and take you with me but you will not be working-"

One hand clamps around the back of your head and the other silences you, turning your complaints into mush, "If you would let me finish..." you huff indignantly against his hand, "you'd know that a friend of mine is throwing a Christmas party and I was invited. There. I have plans."

Your face softens. "Really?" You ask, but the sound is muffled and it comes out more like, "Will-ee?"

Peter laughs, hand slipping from your mouth, "Really. I'll at least take a few hours off. Maybe more if I fall into a food coma."

Peter's other hand is still cradling your head, but you don't bring it to his attention. "You promise? I won't have to fly back early and check up on you, will I? 'Cause I'll do it."

"I wouldn't stop you." You glower, making Peter's mask eyes squint with amusement, "I promise."

"Sometimes I think you like making me worry over you."

"Would you believe me if I said that I'm just this awful all the time?"

"Yes, but that would make me worry even more."

The hand at your neck gently curls around the side of your throat, Peter's thumb angling your chin up to his own. The brush of it makes you tremble just slightly.

Was he trying to make you dissolve into a puddle?

"I'll be okay. Just... come back to the city, will ya? Don't fall in love with Miami."

You place one of your hands over the hand on your throat. The other hovers somewhere near his knee on the countertop, unsure of yourself. When you admire his exposed mouth, you think of Peter. Parker.

You remember you hadn't actually talked about that since it happened. It was Peter's intention to skirt around Parker, regardless of how certain you were that they were the same person. It was all in jest, sure, but some small part of you (some incredibly small, minuscule, microscopic part of you) wondered if your reporter brain just fit the two pieces together because it wanted them to fit.

Perhaps he wasn't Peter Parker. Perhaps this really was all a coincidence, and perhaps aliens didn't fall from the sky and gods didn't save the world.

You wouldn't push him on it. You wouldn't look into it either, because reporter brain be damned. You cared more about the Peter you knew than the Peter you didn't.

You smile up at him, "How could I? Miami doesn't have you."

"Nice to see you could finally make it, kiddo." Jillian is grinning at you when you arrive, her baby tucked at her hip and her wife entertaining the little monster over her shoulder. She sees the winded look on your face and immediately motions you over, pressing a hand to your cheek, "Did you crawl out of a snowdrift? You're freezing!"

You lean into it, chasing the warmth in hopes that it would restore some feeling to your skin, "The storm's getting awful out there."

"Came outta nowhere, didn't it?" Jillian's wife snorts, booping the baby's nose. "We almost didn't risk coming with the little one, it was so bad."

Said little one looks perfectly warm wrapped up in her blanket, an envious sight as you shiver and shuck off your coat to hang. You would offer the kid a boop on the nose yourself, but with your fingers frozen solid around your offering—a plate of sugar cookies—you don't want to make her cry. You give her a smile instead.

"Oh, and would you believe it?" Jillian whispers, sidling up to you, primed for gossip, "We've got a real treat here tonight. Take a wild guess who decided to show up."

"Jonah's wife?"

Jillian cackles, "God no. The stalker."

As soon as she says the name, your eyes zero in on him.

He's wearing that plaid shirt again, but the collar and cuffs are all that peek out from underneath a wrinkly blue sweater. His hair is free and gelled back, revealing his nervous expression more clearly. Nursing a cup of apple cider, he just barely looks like he wants to be here. But then he catches your eye across the room.

And he waves.

"Oh my," Jillian teases, "you must've left quite the impression if he came all this way just to see you."

"He did not come just to see me." You reply in a hushed tone, but she laughs at you all the same.

"Sure. And that's not him heading over right now, even though he's been hugging the wall all night."

You jerk your head to where Parker was standing, and, sure enough, he's pursuing you.

You part from Jillian before she can get the chance to embarrass you (she accepts your cookies as payment), and so you all but jog to meet him halfway.

He doesn't get the chance to be polite before you're interrogating him, "Where did you go?"

"Uh... What?"

"At the gala. When I ran back inside the ballroom, I couldn't find you anywhere."

Peter's eyes slowly widen, "You went back inside?"

"Answer the question, please."

"Wh- I... I was there. You didn't see me?"

"No, I didn't."

"It got crazy after Fisk rushed the stage. I got swept up in the crowd. You must've missed me."

"Really? 'Cause I was with the crowd, you know. In front of the building? Where Fisk was giving his big speech about how he saved the day? I didn't see you anywhere."

Peter blinks, then gasps as if he'd just remembered something important, "You know what? That's right. I went to go find Harry. I wanted to make sure he was alright, and then I couldn't find you in the crowd so I just assumed... I'm sorry for leaving you back there all alone." You watch as he fumbles for something convincing, "I texted Spider-Man about it, though. He said you were safe."

You fold your arms, "...Is that all he said about me?"

"Well, that. And something about your conspiracy theory?"

"Conspiracy theory."

The topic change gets some of the tension in Peter's shoulders melting away, replaced with a smile faint enough to not pass as overtly smug. He waits for one of your co-workers to move out of earshot before continuing, "You think... I'm Spider-Man."

Your jaw tightens. You know that anyone would draw the same conclusions you did after that night. You also know that no matter how logical your reasoning is, you sound highly illogical when you admit to it out loud. If you brought up the same accusation to Jillian or Jameson, they'd both laugh you out of the office.

You have to stand your ground, though. If there was one thing you were learning about Peter, it was that he was easy to fluster, "And if I do?"

"I'm flattered, really, but I don't really have the hand-eye coordination."

You know it's bullshit. He should know you know it's bullshit. If it hadn't been for his quick thinking, you and Harry would've been trampled under the masses at the gala. It's bullshit and he's waiting for his checkmate that will never come.

You do not give it a second thought. You toss your phone at Peter's head.

And he catches it. Of course he does. He stops it mere inches from his face.

If anyone saw you try to give him a concussion, they don't come over to question you on it. "Can you..." Peter starts after a breath, a bit dazed, "...can you stop trying to hit me?"

You go to defend yourself because, at the very least, you hadn't meant to try to punch Peter—which meant it didn't count—when someone barrels right into you.

And, to prove you right twice in a row, Peter is quick to catch you. He scoops you up into his arms before you end up a reporter pancake on the floor. One of your co-workers, already blitzed off spiked eggnog, had bumped you on their way to the drinks table for what looked like the umpteenth time tonight, and didn't have enough marbles to apologize before bumping someone else.

Peter is careful in how he holds you. There's that unmistakable strength behind his grip, but also... he was gentle. He felt safe.

You don't make to escape just yet, all your bravado knocked right out of you. "Jesus, you okay?" His eyes dart over to your co-worker and a scowl turns his expression sour, "Jonah should put a cap on the drinks."

You feel more than embarrassed stumbling to your feet, even more so when Peter still coddles you after you're standing upright. "I'm fine. Thanks." Peter's looking at you, brows drawn together, with so much concern it makes that second thought from earlier come in hot with a sizable topping of shame, "Talk about instant karma."

Then it's gone. Peter laughs and... it sounds just like your Peter. Undeniably. You can't help but give in. For a fleeting moment, the question of secret identities has melted away and it's just the two of you, giggling about something silly.

You're ashamed enough to apologize for throwing your phone at his head when the laughter dies down. You succeed in stealing it back and lead him over to the windows, far away from any more drunken disasters, "It's alright. I've had worse thrown at me before."

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh? Like what?"

His voice catches in his throat at first, "A... carton of expired milk. High school bully, Flash Thompson. We were both on the same academic decathlon team but he never gave up on his dream of professional baseball."

"Flash Thompson? You mean, Silicon Valley, MIT grad, tech startup millionaire Flash Thompson?"

Peter winces, "The one and only."

You frown at the distant look on Peter's face, aware of some regret there at the mention of Flash. "You and Harry went to ESU together, right? Is that where you always wanted to go?"

Peter shakes his head, but a smile comes to his face regardless, "MIT was my first choice, actually. But... even with a scholarship, I just couldn't imagine leaving New York behind. So I stayed. Went to ESU. Helped my Aunt May with the mortgage on her first house since my... my uncle passed. And now I'm selling pictures of Spider-Man to pay my rent."

You can't help the way you soften. "I'm so sorry about your uncle, Peter. Your Aunt May is lucky to have you around."

His eyelids flutter closed for a breath, and his smile grows wider. If it were even possible. "I'm lucky to have her."

You stand there together in silence after that, but it feels more comfortable than before. All the scrutiny and speculation you'd come in with had faded away, and now you were left wondering more about Peter. His hopes, his dreams, his life before all of this. What would it have been like if he'd gone to MIT? Where would you be? Or Spider-Man?

Peter's eyes peel open, "So, what about you?"

"Oh. Well, I took a shine to my school newspaper. After... everything in 2012, I knew the world would never be the same. So I had dreams of becoming a journalist, covering the street, being the first on the scene. Took my ass to college on part-time jobs and a dream, and interned at nearly every newspaper in the city before Jameson gave me a shot here. As much as I can't stand the way he talks about Spidey... he's not that bad of a guy. All things considered."

Peter agrees, "He did hire you, so..."

"Yeah, well," you lean your cheek against the window, glass cooling your blush, "At least Spidey doesn't hold it against me... but, I have to ask: why the Bugle? I mean, with photos like yours, you should be fighting off every publication in the city. Instead you turn in these... absolute masterpieces, freelancing, for a guy who can't even give you due credit, and you only stop by for a paycheck."

Peter looks to the window, the wind howling over a crooner's cover of Santa Baby. The storm was still raging on outside, and you dreaded the thought of having to walk through it to get back home. The taxis wouldn't have much luck either from the looks of it. "I... like my job, but it's not what I wanna do forever. I don't care about fame or Pulitzer prizes. It's always been about taking care of me and my Aunt May, and Jameson is a lot of things but he's always understood that. He pays me enough that I can have a place of my own and a little leftover for my aunt, and he doesn't ask questions.

"I don't need to be seen. And that's the whole point, isn't it?" His expression gradually warms as he recalls something, "It's not who's behind the lens that matters, but who's in front of it."

Your expression warms too, "I can see why Spidey likes you."

A notification disturbs the moment. Raising a finger at Peter, you check the latest notification... and your stomach drops.

Peter takes a step forward, sensing the change in atmosphere, "What? What is it?"

"My flight's been cancelled. I was leaving tomorrow for Miami but the storm..."

"Oh. Man, I'm sorry."

"I should've left sooner, I should've left when my family..." You lose the motivation to even finish your sentence, feeling exhausted all at once, "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm stuck here for Christmas."

Peter stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet as he searches for something to say. You're about to tell him not to worry about it when he speaks up, "You know," he starts, the uncertainty in his voice giving you pause, "it's no... Miami, but my aunt throws this Christmas party every year? For Christmas Eve. We invite a few friends over for dinner. She'd love it if you came."

"Oh, Peter, that's sweet but... I don't really want to intrude on a friend thing-"

"No, no, it's okay! Anyone can come. It'll just be my aunt, some of her co-workers from F.E.A.S.T., a few of my friends, my ex-girlfriend-"

"Your- what?"

"Oh. Well, I mean, we were friends before we dated. Well... technically? She sort of just... hung around me and Ned in high school and then we started dating for a while but then we broke up in university. But we stayed friends. Became better friends, actually. So, she's my ex but also a really good friend. I promise it's not weird or anything. She's super cool about it. And I am too! Her name's MJ. I think you'll like her."

You stare at Peter. You think you see a bead of sweat twinkle on his forehead underneath the Christmas lights above.

He insists that you're welcome to come, and staying home alone for Christmas would be pretty hypocritical after your argument with Spider-Man.

Spider-Man.

"...and Spider-Man will be there."

Spider-Man?

You abruptly lock eyes with Peter. "Spider-Man?"

Peter's smile is tight-lipped, "Yeah." His voice cracks. "I mean, he's just stopping by real quick, but I invited him. He might not come. But... he also might."

Was this the friend of his throwing a Christmas party? Why in the world would Peter (Parker) invite you to the same party Spider-Man would be at, unless he could stand in the same room as him at the exact same time? There'd be no other way to convince you otherwise, and you'd be forced to accept that they really were two completely different people.

Yeah, right.

You'd go to this party and suss it out for yourself.

And it wouldn't hurt, would it? Peter was nice, if not the most awkward person you've ever met. To offer you a place at his aunt's Christmas dinner not long after hurling an object at his head was a sign of true Christmas spirit. You could learn a thing or two from him, "Okay. You've convinced me. What's your number? You can text me the address."

Peter blanks for a moment, "Um... yeah, um..." You watch him flounder, growing increasingly suspicious, "Can I see your phone?"

You drop your phone in his hand. His fingers move quickly across the keyboard before returning it to you. Peter Parker is now in your contacts. You check the number against Spidey's but there isn't a match. "Thanks," you glance at his wobbly smile, "I sent you a text."

Peter gestures behind him, "Oh, cool, awesome. Will you excuse me for a sec? I gotta use the restroom." And he doesn't wait for you to affirm before he's rushing down the hall and out of sight.

A full minute passes before you receive a text back from Peter.

15 Amfan Ave Forest Hills, NY 11375 7pm :) Hope you can make it! He never shuts up about you *I *shut

Hm.

So... I hear you're throwing things at people now Who told you that? You lose one phone, then you try to bludgeon an innocent man with another. I should lock you up and throw away the key I wasn't trying to bludgeon him, because I knew he'd be perfectly *fine*. And he helped me prove a point Which was... That the chances of him being you are more likely than either of you would have me to believe Could it be that you just have a thing for attractive, masked men? That is That is irrelevant to the conversation HA you so do Literally nothing to do with anything I just said It's okay. The mask makes it really easy to project one's ideal man onto me. Or so I've learned through Twitter I'm not projecting *anything* onto you Do you picture Ryan Reynolds when you talk to me? It's okay if you do Peter, shut up Maybe someone more boyish like Timothy chalet Timothee Chalet Timothee Chalamett I'd say you just like hearing yourself talk but this is a textual conversation I like that we can talk like this :) I like it too :) What about Tom Holland? We've got the same jaw If you think me accusing you of being Parker is me projecting a handsome man onto you, I can only assume you think he's hot. Which means I can assume you have a thing for him. Because I can also make things up Like Batman and Clark Kent? Are you saying Parker is the Clark Kent in our fictional relationship? More like Superman and Jimmy Olsen And you're my Lois Lane? ... Goodnight, Peter

Aunt May's home is beautiful. There's a lovingly sculpted garden out front that has since given into the snow, but you can tell it's a sight in the spring. For now, the Christmas garland lining the doorframe—wrapped in a rope of rainbow lights—brightens up the porch. As does the collection of little striped sweater-wearing gnomes gathered around the front door.

There's a commotion of voices behind it as you approach. You shift your plate into one hand, pressing the doorbell with the other, and the voices get louder. You swallow down your nerves when the door is ripped open by a stranger.

The stranger in question is staring out into the dark at you like they weren't expecting you. Your eyes quickly dart to the plaque beside the door and see a bold "15" emblazoned there. Nope. This is the house.

Their eyes zero in on the plate in your hand. Smiling, they open the door wide and step back, "Sweet! Peter said you'd bring dessert."

You kick the snow off your boots before stepping inside. The stranger shuts the door behind you before any more of the cold could get in. "It's peppermint bark," you explain, returning a smile of your own, "but I hear May's making a cake."

"May and Peter. May's great with everything but the oven- don't tell her I said that. I'm Ned, by the way." Ned holds his hand out for a shake.

Ned is really talkative, you find out. He holds your peppermint bark as you undo your boots and coat at the door, rattling off about how Peter and he had been friends at Midtown. He tells you about his job as a cybersecurity specialist, a job he'd naturally floated toward after graduating from MIT, and how he'd stayed with the Parkers for a few months after moving back to New York. It's how he knows that the downstairs bathroom door won't close unless you lift up when you shut it. You only remember about half of what he says by the time you get to the living room.

There are considerably fewer people than you expected, one of which makes his way over the minute you catch his eye.

"Hey," Harry grins. Unlike the nice suit he'd worn to the gala, he's dressed down in jeans and an ugly sweater with "I've been naughty" printed in big letters across the front, looking a lot less tense than when you'd first seen him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same." You can't help but ask, "Don't the Osborns host Christmas Eve at Oscorp tower every year?"

Harry's good mood fizzles out right before your eyes. You feel pretty awful about it. "Uh, yeah. Norman does. But it's more business than anything, so I dipped. I'd rather be here watching Pete fuck up a perfectly good cake."

"I heard that!" Peter's voice calls from a room away.

Harry's good mood returns, "Well, it's good to see you at the annual Parker holiday celebration. And I'll forgive you for poking into my family business if you hand over those treats."

Bashful, you let Ned pass the plate into your hands before passing it to Harry, "Sorry. Reporter brain."

Harry's nose scrunches up, "Don't apologize. Unless these taste like ass."

"I promise they taste better than ass."

"Good enough," he backs away, turning his head to shout down the hall, "Peter! Get in here already!"

When the redhead is immersed in a game of UNO, you turn to Ned, "And that doesn't... feel weird? Having Harry Osborn at family dinner?"

"There are weirder things about Peter. Speak of the devil."

The ugly sweater is the first thing you notice. A companion to Harry's, it is nearly the exact same design, except for the "I've been nice" where the "I've been naughty" had been. He's dusting his hands of something when he comes around the corner. His eyes soften when he sees you with Ned, "Hey, you came." He says in a much too gentle voice. Harry and his opponents nearly drown him out with their cheers and boos.

Unlike at the office party, you notice, Peter's hair isn't tamed by hat nor hair gel. Instead, it curls incessantly around his flushed cheeks. He looked like a damn Keebler elf. It was frustratingly adorable. "Of course. I heard there'd be cake."

"How is that cake, Peter?" Ned pulls on a piece of the ugly sweater as he walks by, and you realize that some of the red had been singed. You follow Peter's frantic gaze from the hole to you.

"This was unrelated to the cake."

"You burned something else?"

"No! One of the stockings fell into the fireplace and I-" Peter trails off as you begin to smile, "you don't get to laugh at me if you didn't bring sweets."

"I did! Harry stole them." You nod over to the coffee table where the group is devouring your peppermint bark with reckless abandon. At least you knew they didn't taste like ass. Peter rushes over to steal the plate before they could polish off the last handful, much to their protest.

"Dinner's almost ready, I swear. You've met Ned, uh, Harry..." Peter scans the group, using his free hand to point out people, "...that's Yolanda, Katie, Lexie, Eduardo: all May's friends. May's in the kitchen but I'd stay out of her way until the ham comes out unharmed."

You notice that out of everyone gathered in the house, he does not mention his ex-girlfriend. "And MJ?"

You wait for an answer. Instead, something heavy shakes the house from above. It doesn't sound like it came from outside, but rather somewhere in the house. Not quite above your head. Weirdly enough, only you seem to be concerned about it.

Peter just glances at the ceiling, "And MJ."

MJ is tossing an empty storage bin to the side when you crawl up through the floor behind Peter. She's crouched on the balls of her feet, shoulders slouched, the sharp bones of her back poking through her tight graphic tee. Her head snaps toward you both when she hears you grunt up the last rung of the ladder. Her eyes narrow on you, then Peter, "I can't find it."

Peter offers you a hand to hoist you further into the attic, "Did you check the-"

"Yes. And I checked the one next to it. And the one next to that."

You look at Peter for an explanation, but he doesn't provide you with one. He walks over to where MJ has now fallen back on her ass, rifling through one of the bins. His mouth twists to the side. "Maybe she meant the box next to her old CDs?"

"There's like 15 boxes in here, Peter."

Off to the side of the room, where MJ was currently facing the mysterious dilemma, were about nine—not 15—storage bins in disarray. Two were off to the side, emptied of their contents: there were piles of men's clothes, women's clothes, baby blankets, and more. The third box that MJ was poring over had Halloween decorations in it.

"Well, you're getting close." Peter encourages.

The way MJ grumbles resentfully has you squirming. As time ticked on, your presence unannounced, you were starting to feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and MJ looks over at you for the second time, "Maybe I could help?" You offer.

At this, MJ brightens. "Finally! Someone cares about my plight. I don't know you, do I?"

You crawl over to where MJ is sitting and Peter gestures to you, "MJ, I told you about the reporter from the Bugle, right?" You give your name for good measure, and MJ's eyebrows raise. She gives a quick, indecipherable look to Peter. He returns it. Then she examines you.

After a moment, she dusts her hand off on her khakis and holds it out for you to shake, "Michelle Jones. Call me MJ." You repeat her nickname warmly. "Peter never shuts up about you."

Peter chokes on his spit.

"He... he does?"

MJ continues shaking your hand for longer than necessary, smiling secretively now, "Oh, yeah. He's got your blog bookmarked too. Post notifs for your Twitter, the works." You cut your eyes to Peter, appalled that he'd ratted you out to someone else, but MJ is quick, "I figured it out on my own ages ago."

"Is it really that obvious it's me?"

"No." And she smiles wider.

Peter is about to cut in with something when a woman's voice rings out, shrill and clear despite two layers of flooring in between you. He's needed with the ham. He looks between you and MJ, reluctant, "Look, if you can't find it-"

"We will." MJ's reply is confident, leaving no room for failure. You feel a little pressure applied to "we".

Peter nods. He mouths an apology at you and skitters out of the attic.

Left alone with MJ, you notice that she is staring at you now. You feel like you've been left alone with an oracle, prepared for your innermost being to be laid bare before you: past, present, and future. She looks like the type to know what makes people tick.

"What are you looking for?" You try to break the silence, though your voice comes out meeker than you'd have liked.

She doesn't look away from you as her fingers grip the container in between her legs, "Uncle Ben's favorite Christmas sweater. All I know is it has a reindeer holding a beer on the front."

Reinbeer. You almost laugh at it. You imagine it would tickle an uncle pink too. "Then I'll get to looking."

You've only just crawled over to a bin of your own when MJ asks you outright, "You like Peter, right?"

Your hand stills as it pries the top off. You feel her eyes burning into your back. "He's... nice, yeah."

You can hear how unimpressed she is with that, "I don't know if it's obvious, but Peter isn't exactly popular." You think that's kind of a cruel thing to say about someone you consider a friend, but MJ keeps going, "All he had was Ned back at Midtown. And me, eventually. I've known him since high school and he's made maybe a handful of friends, maybe less. The last time he invited someone new to Christmas dinner was Harry."

And that had been at least a few years, judging by how long Harry had been away at Oxford.

But why was she telling you this?

"He likes you." You yelp when you realize MJ's voice has gotten close. You turn, and she's kneeling behind you with no interest in your fear. "But do you like him?"

In her hands is a faded, toy Iron Man mask. "I... I think he's nice. I mean kind," you correct yourself when MJ frowns, "but I... I don't really know him. I mean, I don't think I do. I've only actually spoken to him twice and one of those times, there was a gun involved. Everything I know about him is through his pictures and Spidey, and I trust Spidey. So, I trust Peter."

"And Spider-Man?"

"What?"

"Do you like Spider-Man?"

You swallow. Like didn't really sum up how you felt about him. He was a hero, an inspiration, a friend, and also... yeah, you felt something more there too.

You think about why she would ask. Why it would have anything to do with you liking Peter or not. You look at her and it feels like she hasn't really asked you that different of a question at all. Your answer is much more definitive this time, "I do. I like him more than I know what to do with."

MJ leans back on her haunches. She appraises you, "He's pretty great, isn't he?" Her tone is considerably softer.

"Yeah. He really is." You smile.

MJ hands the mask to you and you take it, admiring the chips in its paint and the lovingly worn edges. She scoots between you and the bin you'd been looking into and pops the lid off. Almost immediately, she swears in relief. Sitting folded on top is the most gaudy sweater you've ever seen. A deformed reindeer is embroidered on the front, and sure enough, holds a can of beer in its hoof. When MJ shakes it out, little specks of dust fly everywhere.

This, too, she hands to you. You look at her in bewilderment. "You'll wanna make a good first impression with May," she advises, "just be prepared for the water works."

And there are water works.

May throws her arms around your neck and just about sobs her thanks to you, squishing the sweater between your chests. You note that she smells like candy canes. When she draws back, her glasses are all askew, "And I'm so glad you could make it! Peter wouldn't shut up about you. Isn't that right, Petey?"

Peter's eye twitches. "I'm gonna set the table. Ned, you wanna set the table?" And he scoots past you and May without waiting for a response.

"Don't mind him, he gets testy when he's cooking. Did Petey give you the tour?" You shake your head and May kisses her teeth in Peter's direction, "Okay, this is the kitchen, around the corner here is the dining room. You've seen the living room and the attic. The bathroom is by the front door, and the bedrooms are upstairs. If someone's in the bathroom down here, do not use the bathroom by the stairs. That's Ned's favorite when he gets bubbly guts, and he will get bubbly guts."

Ned complains under his breath as he walks by.

"If you need somewhere to get away from the festivities for a bit, backyard's that way and my room's upstairs, first door to the left. All good?" She pets your shoulder. Then, she looks down at the sweater still in your hands and takes it from you, tenderly. "I'm gonna go change into this and then dinner is served. Help yourself to anything, okay?"

May leaves you in the kitchen with that. Around the corner, Peter and Ned are fussing over where to put the ham and sides. Around the other corner, Harry is drunkenly singing Christmas carols with Yolanda. MJ watches on from the corner of the room, recording on her phone. She catches your eye and mouths, "For blackmail."

You peek into the dining room and Peter is worrying over one of the chairs. You can hear Ned scold him, "Sit next to them. You don't wanna talk over the ham. It'll kill the mood."

"But how do I... subtly get them to sit in this chair and not next to MJ or something?"

"Tell MJ not to sit next to them."

"But what if-" You jolt a little when Peter suddenly spots you eavesdropping. He straightens up with a death grip on the chair he'd been messing with, "Hey! Hi. This is your chair by the way." And he tops it all off with a smile.

It's warm in May's home.

You don't even register the cold at first. You do register Harry's frenzy, the way he grabs far more napkins than he needs to, pressing them to your stomach where the majority of his spilled drink had gone. When you finally do comprehend what just happened, you place your hands over his, "How long have you been plotting your revenge?"

Harry is red-faced. He lets you hold the napkins there while May rushes to find a towel, "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was- sorry."

You don't get to dwell on the déjà vu of it all. May is ushering you up the stairs with a beach towel pressed to your front, muttering about how she'll have to put Harry on ginger ale for the rest of the night. She guides you into what you're certain is Peter's old bedroom.

It's been cleaned out, and most of his personal belongings must be at his own place, but there are still old posters on the wall, and a calendar dated in April, two years ago. His bed is ruffled like he'd slept overnight. It's neat, and looks like it usually is neat, but there are traces of him everywhere, like picture frames with Peter and May and a man you don't recognize.

"Peter probably has something here you can wear. It's all stuff from college." She digs through the top drawer of his dresser, finally stopping on a sweatshirt with Empire State University in college block across the chest. "Here! You think this'll fit?"

She stretches it out and you nod, thankful, "Yeah, thank you so much, May."

She smiles, "Okay. Bathroom's across the hall if you need to wash off. I can run your shirt through a wash while you're here if you'd like. Just let me know, okay?"

May is, perhaps, the sweetest woman on earth. She leaves you with a thumbs up and shuts the door behind you, reminding you to lock it after she leaves.

Your shirt had absorbed most of the drink, and you're relatively unscathed besides some sticky residue. You wipe at your stomach with the towel she'd given you and slip Peter's sweater on. It feels... odd, wearing it. It smells like May's house with little traces of Peter.

Your eyes drift back to the picture frames.

One such frame sits on top of the dresser, a photo of Peter and the man who you assume is Uncle Ben. He holds Peter in a headlock but they're both smiling at the camera. You smile too, tracing a finger around the wooden edges.

Another picture is of Peter and MJ and Ned, standing outside of MIT with their fingers pointing at the school. Another is of Peter and MJ sharing cotton candy at Coney. Another is of Peter as a little boy, with two people flanking his side that you do not know. You realize you'd never asked about Peter's parents.

There are other photos of him around that age with May and Ben, and as you piece together what feels like an undoubtedly tragic story, you catch something outside the window.

A person. Hanging onto the side of the house.

Your heart hammers in your chest as a hand pushes the window up, and then, "Did I scare you?" Spider-Man perches on the sill with what you can imagine is a shit-eating grin.

You stomp over to the window and shove at his shoulder, but he doesn't budge in the slightest, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Were you watching me get dressed?"

The mask's eyes blow open, "What? No! I swear I just got here."

"Do you ever use the front door?"

"Not if I can help it," he crawls in, staying planted by the window, "don't tell me you're snooping through Parker's things."

"I was just... looking. At the pictures. And Harry Osborn spilled his drink all over me so I had to borrow Parker's shirt."

"Hm. ESU looks good on you."

You look up at Peter, who keeps his hands tucked behind his back, leaning against the wall by the window. "Aren't you gonna say hi to the party? Make Parker look cool?"

"Eventually. Maybe. Might just watch from afar."

"No, nuh-uh. You said you had holiday plans and that you were going to a party. That doesn't count if you're watching from afar."

Peter's head sways to the side, "I never said this was the party I was going to."

"Is there another?"

"Well... maybe. Maybe not."

"Peter-" You whine, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not a party guy! Sue me."

"Well, then Parker's got you beat two for two. Unless you're lying, since I haven't given up on my conspiracy theory."

Peter presses himself off the wall, sauntering toward you in a zig-zag. Your eyes follow him, back and forth, back and forth, until he's a step or two away. His hand reaches out to play with one of your sleeves, its seams resewn with mismatched thread, "Leaving a party as Peter Parker to come back as Spider-Man. Give Parker some credit. That's the kind of plan you come up with in high school."

You shrug, trying not to act like Peter playing with your sleeve wasn't giving you goosebumps. "You never know."

Peter nods, "Yeah, you're right. I mean, he was really excited to see you."

"Oh yeah?" You swallow.

"Yeah. Was kind of pathetic, actually."

Peter shoots a web at the ceiling and twists, catching the web between his feet so he could hang upside down. The suddenness makes you stumble back with a breathless laugh, "That's not a very nice thing to say about a friend."

"Weren't you the one who said he'd be shaking and crying if you yelled at him?"

You sigh, "I was... I was teasing you."

"Because I'm Peter Parker."

He says it matter of fact. You stare at him, "Yeah," you whisper, "that's right."

He pulls himself up the web until he's face to face with you, "Then that wouldn't be very nice to say to a friend, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. If you were Peter Parker, I guess I'd have to apologize to you."

"Yeah? How?"

You breathe deep. Everyone is still laughing downstairs. You become hyper-aware of the fact that you hadn't locked the door. At any moment, someone could walk in and...

Peter waits, curious.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, pressing into the fabric of his mask, feeling over the ridges where black lines broke red. You know what you want to do. And you also know that there is no going back if you do it.

Your fingers reach the place where the mask meets the rest of his suit. Hooking two fingers under the fabric, you pull.

Your fingernails trace over the curve of his Adam's apple as it bobs, over the jut of his chin. Peter's breath is heaving. One of his hands releases its grip on the web and you see it glide toward yours out of the corner of your eye. You just feel the skin of his bottom lip under your finger when you realize how this might look. What he might think you're trying to do.

Mask in hand, questions of his identity hanging in the air, your curiosity and his vulnerability. You release the mask, awash with worry. You want to get it out before there's any misunderstanding, but as your hand drifts back to yourself, his catches it. You would give anything to know what he's thinking right now.

Peter lets your fingers fall. Silently, he drags the mask over the tip of his nose and leaves it resting there. An invitation. "I trust you." He promises. And kisses you.

He has to stretch a little to reach you. You understand this and press closer, taking the back of his head in your hands and holding it steady for you, but you know you're trembling. You curse yourself for how much your body reacts to this, how uncool you must look, how you shake with all the excitement and terror of this. You kiss him and feel silly about how you claimed to know his lips so well before now. That was nothing.

This is everything. So many things. Each time you go back in for more, you lock away some new little detail about him.

Peter places a hand against your neck and tugs you even closer, but the momentum makes him swing a little bit so his nose bumps your chin. You're too stiff to laugh, but he does, "Sorry," his voice is raspy, "this looked cooler in my head."

You lean into him, dizzied, "Was this... did you plan for me to kiss you? When you got up there?"

"I've wanted to kiss you plenty of ways." Peter's admission is followed by a sigh. He presses a hand to your chest and nudges you back a step before he's dropping to his feet and advancing upon you once more, bumping you against the dresser as the picture frames rattle. Your fingers sneak under his mask at the back of his head so they can sink into his silky hair.

He probably kisses you a hundred more times after that. Every kiss you think might be the last, but then you feel a tug in your chest and go in for one more. An itch that no scratch can soothe.

Peter's mask starts to slip and you feel one of his hands leave your waist to fix it, but the warmth your fingers had snuggled into disappears and-

You keep your eyes screwed shut, "Peter." You gasp against his mouth. Your fingers twitch in his hair, finding no resistance.

"It's okay," he nudges your nose with his, still pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, "it's okay."

"But-"

"Don't you wanna know if you were right?"

You squeak when his lips find the underside of your jaw, "I don't need- you don't need to-"

"You're always right," Peter interrupts you, kissing down your neck, "I was never fooling you. You're so smart, you know that?"

"Peter." You say his name with no real plans for it to do anything, letting your head fall back.

"Please." He says back. Urging.

You lift your head, heart hammering away, and meet the eyes of Peter Parker.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @bi-andready-tocry @thescarletfang @spider-biter @hufflepuff-n-fluff @daydreamdrive05 @mentalidrainedfangirl @gwennesy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #tom holland peter parker #marvel #mjwrites #if you see any mistakes in this no u didn't #this has gone through a few revisions and uh. i'm sleeby

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Text

Blue Blood and Rain [2]

King John X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info •ko-fi•

Summary: The King invites Hugo for a ride. And for some reason, you too.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I have still totally made up servant/nobel dynamics because I wanted to and also let's forget about the plot of the film, yes?

Warnings: overuse of italics, typos, power dynamics because he's the king, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2522

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“Need any help there?” The Earl of Delton’s voice ran up your spine like a clammy hand. The implications were clear.

You shouldn’t be here.

And you couldn’t agree more.

“No thank you, my lord.” You said as curtly as you could get away with as you mounted the horse in one quick smooth motion.

Hugo beamed, missing Delton’s jibe because of course he did. “She’s a better rider than me, Johannes.” He said happily, addressing Delton.

Delton raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze solidly on you for a moment before he turned to Hugo and began discussing their lands.

You breathed in deeply, trying to calm yourself and shrug off your nerves. But you kept thinking back to the night before. To you encounter in the stables.

Part of you had thought it was a dream, believing that there was no other way to explain it. But then, after breakfast, a servant had come to Hugo to tell him that the King had requested he join him for a ride and small hunt.

Which had been fine.

Until the servant almost mentioned you had been requested too.

Hugo had practically preened. “Invited by the King!”

“This is an exceptional opportunity to increase our standing with him,” Edith had been equally giddy while you helped her son get ready. Your stomach twisted itself in knots.

Would the King call you out as a harlot the second he laid eyes on you? Would you be thrown from the castle without a single coin to your name?

“He must have been impressed by my praising of you yesterday.” Edith smiled warmly at you.

You swallow. “Me, my lady?”

“Of course!” She laughed, “I told him all about your prowess with a bow.”

“As did I!” Hugo grinned. “He surely must want a demonstration.”

You nodded uneasily.

“Now, now,” Eidth patted your shoulder affectionately, “do not worry, do not dwell on it. Nothing you can do would cause embarrassment to our name.”

“Hmm.” You nod and try your best to smile.

When you’d arrived with Hugo at the stables, you had helped him mount Stefan and assumed you would be accompanying the group of noblemen on foot.

The head stablehand had surprised you though, recognising you from the day before when he saw you with Stefan.

“You’re Earl of Bowhale’s servant, yes?”

You nodded.

He had smiled kindly, “his Highness requested this horse be made ready for you.”

“For me?”

Your utter look of dismay made him smile again, pityingly. “For you.”

The horse was a chestnut stallion, a hand smaller than Stefan. You had stroked him a little, trying to get a judge of his temperament.

Stefan had whinnied, obviously not liking that your attention was on someone else.

You give Stefan a sympathetic smile. “What’s his name?”

“Alaric.” The head stablehand nods.

“Alaric.” You repeat.

“One of the King’s own.”

That doesn’t sit well in your stomach.

You wait a little nervously outside with the others.

“That’s a fine horse you have there, my lady.” The young man smiled at you as he encouraged his own horse to take a few steps closer to you. You recognised his family crest as Whitehaven.

Your mind short circuited a moment, trying to explain that this wasn’t your horse and that you were not a member of a noble house at the same time. Your mouth hung open, panic gripping your chest as you started to speak.

And that was when a nearby servant announced the King.

You jumped, forgetting yourself for a moment, until everyone else bowing around you reminded you to do the same. You kept your eyes trained on the floor.

“Now, now, there’s little need for that.” You can hear the amusement in his voice as he addresses the group. “My ego isn’t that big.”

There’s a light chuckle amongst the nobels, and you relax ever so slightly.

As you look back up though, his eyes are trained on you.

He smiles and you look away quickly.

Heat rises to your skin as you feel his eye roam over you for a long moment before he clears his throat and gently pulls on the reigns of his horse. “Let’s head out.”

There are twenty one of you in total. The King, seven nobelmen, and thirteen servants.

You fall to Hugo’s side a step behind, mirroring what other servants seem to be doing for their corresponding lords.

The King leads. He talks candidly to the other lords, ignoring you completely and you start to relax.

The group follows the trail into the forest, all being far too loud to actually hope to catch anything. But you’ve gathered that this is much more of a ‘let’s have a chat’ hunt, than ‘we need to find dinner’ one.

The servant of Lord Shepten rolls his eyes when his master drones on about the lack of rainfall the past two months, and you both share a smile.

Despite the Lord’s bemoaning the stream running parallel to the trail is moving strong. It widens, quickly being joined by other streams and becomes a small river. The water level isn’t particularly deep, easy for a horse to move through without getting their rider’s feet wet, but the bank is sunken down and steep. A bit of a sudden drop, and not something that you, or a horse, could easily climb out of.

As the time stretches on you fall further back as Hugo moves closer to the King. It’s nice to see him so exctied, passionately talking to the King about his lands.

You’ve been riding for nearly forty minutes, the Earl of Delton being the only person to fire a shot. A waste of an arrow at some bird he couldn’t even see properly, when you come to a makeshift bridge across the river.

The King stops.

The bridge itself looks… uncooperative. Rickety. And narrow. Barely wide enough for one horse at a time. But you can see the care that has been taken in making it. How the wooden logs have been tied and stacked.

“We’ll cross here.” The King says.

A few of the Earl’s exchange looks.

“Here, Your Highness?” Delton questions, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

King John smiles at him, but the expression is anything but kind. “Is that a question?”

“No sire, I…” Delton swallows and his manservant speaks for him.

“My lord was simply checking that he heard you correctly, your Highness.”

King John nods to the servant. A much politer action than his words to the Earl.

“Should we dismount?” The Earl of Cotington asks.

“No need.” The King clicks his tongue and flicks his reigns, his horse moves surely, smartly walking over the bridge with no trouble at all. When he has reached the other side you notice the King clicks the fingers of his left hand and your horse moves forward without your command.

“Hey,” you pull on the reigns.

“Pay no mind,” the King calls from the other side. “Alaric doesn’t like to be outdone.”

You glare at him as your horse moves across the bridge, before you remember yourself. You catch the King’s grin of amusement at your expression as you look away.

“Seems your servant can’t control such a beast.” Delton says to Hugo, loudly.

You bite your lip and barely manage to resist turning your head and telling him that his mother is a whore.

You miss the scowl that crosses the King’s face at Delton’s comment.

Just as you suspected, the bridge is firm and steady, and Alaric moves with intention.

But nerves swim in your stomach, pull at your lungs. There was no way that Alaric moved simply because he wanted to. King John had signalled him with that click.

The second all four hooves are on firm ground the King’s horse moves back a step. There’s a small crunch, then crash as the bridge collapses into the river.

There is an exclamation from the other side, the Earls all shouting over the top of each other in a rather dramatic display.

The King however stays calm, a small smile on his lips when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine!” He calls out to the others, silencing them immediately. “We will cross further up and travel back to the castle and meet you there.”

There are some faint grumbles and exclamations of dismay before King John guides his horse towards the path, grinning wildly once his back on turned to the Earls. “Come on, servant.” He hisses.

You swallow nervously and follow him further into the forest.

It’s only a few paces until the path widens and he falls back so that he is riding next to you.

You stare straight ahead, every muscle in your body tensed. In your peripheral vision, you can see him looking at you with a bemused smile.

He lets the silence hang for a moment, seemingly savouring your discomfort.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks politely enough, though there's an undercurrent to his tone that riles you up.

You frown as you look at him and he chuckles.

“You certainly did run off quickly last night.”

You look away from him quickly, hear rising to your face.

“I should be insulted.” He continues to tease, but panic still grips your chest.

“I did not mean to cause you insult, I…” you blurt out and then pause when you see his expression and scowl at him. “You’re mocking me.”

“Only a little.”

Your frown deepens and he laughs. The sound is not unkind.

“You made the bridge collapse, didn’t you?” You ask.

For a moment you think he’s going to deny it, but he nods, still grinning. “I did.”

“How?”

“It was set up to.”

“Yes but how-”

“Let a king have his secrets.” He smiles sweetly and it’s infuriating.

You seethe for a moment, breathing deeply. “You also have Alaric well trained.”

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“To come to you whenever you gesture.”

Genuine amusement blooms on his face. “I am pleased that you didn’t miss that.” It sounds oddly like praise coming from his tongue.

“All this just to talk to me?”

He shrugs but nods.

“You could have just ordered me to see you.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” He moves a little closer to you. “Besides wasn’t this more theatrical?”

You can’t help but smile slightly. “I did not know you had a love for the dramatic, your Highness.”

“One must have their vices.” He says quietly.

You both ride in silence for a moment.

“What is your horse's name?” You nod your head towards the white mare.

“Guinevere.”

She pulls at the reigns slightly when she hears her name.

“I didn’t take you as a lover of Arthurian legend, your Highness?” You inject a slight tease into your voice hesitantly.

But you needn't have worried, his eyes light up happily. “It seems there’s a lot of misguided views you hold about me? I am to be feared. I have no love of stories.” He tuts in jest. “Someone must be spreading false rumours about me around the kingdom.”

He looks at you again and your stomach twists. It’s such a gentle gaze. Something you feel almost undeserving of.

You shake your head and look down at your reigns.

There is another stretch of silence, but this one is more comfortable.

After a while, you come to a clearing and the King reaches out, lightly touching the back of your hand. He points to the far side where deer are grazing.

For a moment you think he means for you to draw your bow, but he just looks at them happily. “They often graze here.”

“You hunt them here?”

He shakes his head. “Not in the meadow. I like there to be spaces that the deer feel as ‘safe’, it encourages them to stay in the forest and not move too far on.”

You nod.

“We could stop here for a moment, rest?” The question in his voice gives you pause. It seems strange for a noble to ask your opinion like this, let alone the King.

“Are you tired, your Highness?” You tease and he chuckles as he dismounts.

To your surprise he moves to your left side, his hand outstretched to help you down. You swallow, a little giddy as you touch his fingers, allowing him to help you get down.

His other hand lightly touches your hip as your feet touch the grass.

“Should we hook their reigns to a tree?” You ask, gesturing your head towards the horses.

“No need,” he keeps a hold of your hand. “They will not wander.”

Both Guinevere and Alaric have started to nibble at the vegetation underfoot.

King John guides you to a tree. It is old, with a thick heavy bark and a wide canopy.

“I used to sit under this tree as a child and read.” He smiles at the memory for a moment before he looks back to you, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “When I was trying to hide from my Princely duties.”

“I did not take you as someone who would shy away from your responsibilities, your Highness?” Your voice comes out surprisingly sure of itself despite the nerves squeezing your throat.

His grin widens. “Well, it looks like that someone who spreads false stories about me is at least whispering one positive one into your ear.” He reaches out, using his free hand to softly touch your cheek.

You swallow nervously, the action making a loud clicking sound. He seems to take great amusement at your obvious distress and leans a fraction closer.

“Why did you run off so quickly last night?” He raises his eyebrows at you playfully. “I didn’t even get a goodbye kiss.”

“I’d argue that you did.” You whisper, your voice timid. But he laughs kindly.

“I suppose you could be correct.” He drops his hand from your face, but extends his arm.

You take it, a little hesitantly.

You walk around the meadow, the King stopping and pointing out different plants and trees as you go, giving you snippets of facts and tales he’d read or been told, before you make your way back to the horses.

He offers to help you mount, and you accept without a second thought.

Your nerves had all but disappeared by the time you near the castle. His company has turned oddly pleasant as he continues to talk. But what is the most puzzling thing is how he stops, asks you your thoughts and listens intently to your answers.

Just before you both enter the castle grounds he stops you, and places a pendant in your hand without a chain. It’s heavy, bearing the seal of the King.

You frown, but don’t get a chance to ask any questions.

“Come to my rooms tonight, after dinner. Show that to the guards, they’ll let you in.”

“Your H-”

“I’ll take ‘no’, as a personal slight.” He grins wickedly, giving you a quick wink before he turns Guinevere and trots into the grounds.

_____________________________

Thank you so much for reading!

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oliversrarebooks · 1 month

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 43: Katherine's Advice

Prev > Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: conditioning, discussion of abuse, panic attacks

Oliver put the finishing touches on a set of egg-salad sandwiches, neat triangles with the crust removed, and set them on a platter along with an assortment of tea cookies from a local bakery. Truthfully, he didn't know the first thing about entertaining -- with no friends or family and a tiny bookshop apartment, it wasn't anything he'd ever had to do. Alexander had some helpful suggestions for things he'd seen other thralls do, and had procured the supplies Oliver would need for a light midnight lunch (or whatever one might call it.)

In fact, Alexander had been hovering around Oliver a great deal since their fraught conversation a couple of nights before. He'd bought a bounty of foods he supposed Oliver might like, and seemed to be popping up around every corner of the library to show Oliver interesting books. It was as though his master thought he needed to win his favor all over again -- despite the fact that Oliver was still very much enthralled, his thoughts often going hazy and filling with imagined echoes of siren song.

Oliver didn't really need the attention, but he did appreciate the advice on entertaining. Embarrassing as it was, Oliver really did want to impress his guests. So much had happened over the past few weeks, his entire life and conception of the world turned on its end. The only people who might really understand were vampires' thralls. Miriam hadn't seemed quite lucid enough for a true conversation, but Alexander had told him that Miss Ruth's thrall, Charlie, was quite intelligent and together.

It'd be nice to talk to someone else who had gone through... this. That was all.

He had just finished up in the kitchen when the doorbell rang and his master rushed to greet the guests. "Hello hello!" sang a voice that Oliver would never forget: Miss Lily. She brought both of her hands to her face in a dramatic mock gasp. "Lex? No, it can't be. You don't look like you just clawed your way out of a grave. Who are you, and what have you done with Lex?"

"Mm. Nice to see you too."

"And look at you!" Miss Lily ruffled Oliver's hair. "You look like you're adjusting quite well! Are you the one responsible for Lex's shocking good health?"

Oliver blushed, not certain how to respond to the praise. She seemed different from how she had been in the auction house, more relaxed, but something about her voice and mannerisms still made Oliver feel a bit dazed and eager to please. "I'm just glad I was able to help him, sir."

"Of course you did. I just knew a thrall like you could do him a world of good. Speaking of which..." She pulled her thrall Miriam through the front door, and she looked at Oliver with her usual clouded expression. "Miriam, you remember Oliver, don't you? Lord Alexander's new thrall?"

She looked confused for a moment before her face lit up a bit in recognition. "Oh, yes! From when we were staying at the auction house. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too." Miriam's uncertain mental state made him a bit uneasy. If Lily and Alexander were anything alike, would he end up similarly entranced? Would he even realize if it happened? Was it happening already?

"But Miriam's not the only person I've brought along. I took the liberty of inviting one of our old friends that Lex has been avoiding."

Alexander looked confused. "Ruth? I haven't been avoiding her."

"Ruth's on the way, too, but no, not her."

"Oh -- you don't mean --"

A sophisticated-looking older woman, gray hair tucked in neat curls, stepped out from the porch. She was wearing an old-fashioned, dark blue flannel dress with a high collar. Behind her was another older woman, also wearing an old-fashioned flannel dress, hers covered with a ruffled white pinafore.

"Edith! It's been ages!" said Alexander.

"And whose fault is that?" she said, in the tone of a worried mother. "You kept turning me away when I called on you, and I'd hear all about it from Lily -- how you refused to take a thrall, and were drinking bottled blood --"

Alexander looked uncharacteristically cowed by the scolding. "And I'm sure she's told you that I have a suitable thrall, now, so you needn't worry about my health."

"I'll stop being worried about your health when you start taking proper care of yourself," she said. "But I'd like to meet this thrall of yours. Is this him?"

Even with his master and Miss Lily around him, Oliver could still feel the pull of this new vampire's aura on his mind. It was soothing, almost numbing, and he had the odd thought that she must be a good master. "My name is Oliver Pines, sir, and I am indeed Lord Alexander's thrall. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, what a polite and charming thrall," Miss Edith said with a smile. She shamelessly took Oliver's chin in her hand to examine his face, and Oliver was surprised that his master didn't seem to mind. "Healthy, and his blood smells very nourishing."

"As you can see, I'm taking care of myself just fine," said Alexander defensively.

"I suppose this is a better state of affairs than your usual. But where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself properly." she said, and then turned back to Oliver. "You may address me as Dr. Edith. I'm a doctor who has served the vampire community for over a century. If you're ever sick or injured, no doubt your master will call on me to help."

"You're a vampire... doctor, sir?"

"There are very few health ailments that can afflict vampires, so I primarily take care of their precious thralls. After all, healthy thralls are necessary for a healthy vampire," she said, with a pointed look at Alexander.

He rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. "Yes, yes, your point has been made."

"And this is Katherine, my faithful nurse," said Dr. Edith, gesturing to the woman who had accompanied her.

Katherine delicately shook Oliver's hand. "Good to meet you." She looked bright-eyed compared to Miriam, but her hand was warm, and she clearly was not a vampire.

"Are you a..."

"Dr. Edith's thrall, yes, and her nurse and assistant and whatever else is required of me."

"I see," he said with relief. He was looking forward to having a chat with a thrall who seemed to still have her wits about her.

While the group was still exchanging pleasantries, hanging up coats and hats, when the doorbell rang once again. It was Miss Ruth, the vampire lawyer who had sized up Oliver's suitability for a clerk at the auction house. She was followed by a tall, broad-shouldered man.

"Do you remember me, Oliver?" she asked.

"Yes, sir, I remember you very well. You asked me to recite state capitals. I'm glad to see you well."

Miss Ruth looked at him with longing. "Oh, I do wish I could have afforded to buy you," she said. "But no matter how hard I work, I just can't compete with Lex's fortune."

The broad-shouldered man was named Charlie, and he was one of Miss Ruth's thralls and law clerks. He favorited Oliver with a stoic nod, and between him and Katherine, he couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. Now that he was fully enthralled and owned by a vampire, it was strange to be around other humans, even those in a similar boat. It made him more keenly aware of his situation, and he wondered how he seemed to other people, all too aware that he was under a hypnotic spell.

"Now that all of our guests have arrived, Oliver, why don't you get your tea and refreshments and show the thralls into the second-floor sitting room?" said Alexander. "We'll be meeting in the parlor, and I would prefer not to be disturbed."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, feeling more than a bit like a child being shooed off so the adults could talk. But even though he'd love to hear what the vampires were discussing -- especially since he seemed to be of particular interest to them -- he was also eager to have a chat with the other thralls.

A few moments later, and he'd enlisted Katherine and Charlie's help in carrying trays to the sitting room. The curtains were open wide, offering a pleasant view of the gaslit city streets and the waning moon. Miriam settled into a plush chair and pulled a knitting project out of a small bag as Oliver poured tea for the four of them.

"Please, help yourself to sandwiches and cookies," he said.

"You're a lovely host, Oliver," Katherine commented. "And so lucid, as well."

"Um --"

Charlie glared. "An awkward thing to say to a new thrall, don't you think?"

"At my age, I don't see any point dancing around the bush. I've seen hundreds of thralls, after all, and I'm well aware that we're some of the more fortunate ones."

"How long have you two been thralls?" asked Oliver.

"Six years for me," said Charlie.

"I've been with the doctor for nearly thirty years now."

"Thirty years!" said Oliver. "I didn't know... well..."

"Didn't realize that a thrall could last so long in the service of a vampire?" said Katherine, amused. "It's understandable, but it's more common than you might expect. I'm particularly lucky in that my master is a doctor, and so I'm kept very healthy."

"Do you like your master?"

"I do," said Katherine. "I'm under her spell, of course, but after all these years, that's practically background noise. But after having met so many vampires, I'm glad it was the doctor who enthralled me. I meet lots of interesting people and vampires, and I get to help them. I'm never bored. And she's always treated me well."

"I'm also happy to serve my master," said Charlie in a tone that sounded a bit strange. "I mean, I do miss my old life sometimes, and it's hard work to be a clerk, but my living conditions are so much better than when I was working at the factory, that's for sure. My math and reading have improved, too."

"And how about you, Oliver? What's your first impression of serving Lord Alexander?" said Katherine.

Oliver's mind swirled with thoughts, of his master's siren song and his feeding and his need, of the library and the comfortable bed and generous food, of his tiny apartment above the bookshop that used to be modest but his, of the threat of his master's sire.

"It's been good so far. Lord Alexander will be a good master to me, I hope," said Oliver carefully. "But... did you two know his previous thralls?"

Katherine exchanged a look with Charlie. "Ah, yes, Henry. I remember him. He was more... subdued. Like Miriam."

"Like Miriam," Oliver repeated, his fear of having his mind fade away from him renewed.

Miriam looked up from her knitting. "Hm?"

"Nothing, dear," said Katherine. "I believe that Lord Alexander has, for the most part, always treated his thralls very well. He's a gentle vampire, and he's always treated me with more respect than is due a thrall. But..."

"But?"

"Well... I have had to treat a number of mysterious injuries on Alexander's previous thralls. Miss Lily's as well. I assume you know what those two have in common."

Charlie looked impatient. "There's no need to beat around the bush. Our vampires won't mind us talking about this. They're probably talking about the same thing," he said. "Oliver, what has Lord Alexander told you about the Maestro?"

"The Maestro?" said Oliver, his eyes widening. "Is that... his sire?"

"Oh dear. Yes, he is," said Katherine. "So he's told you very little. It's the way of vampires, unfortunately. Even my master barely tells me anything."

Oliver gripped his chair. "I need to know. Please, tell me."

"I'm afraid I don't know that much myself. He's notoriously reclusive. But I have had to visit his manor to attend to thralls on a number of occasions. Even my master would prefer not to go there, but she says it's too dangerous to defy him."

"What was he like?"

Katherine leaned in close, as though the subject of their conversation might somehow overhear. "His power lets him control people's bodies utterly. His thralls are like toy soldiers, moving to a drum only they can hear. I'm used to all kinds of thralls, but his were uncanny." Katherine shuddered. "Even though he didn't lay a hand on me, he was glaring at me the entire time, and I could feel his influence pulling at my mind. A feeling as though I had to fall in line immediately, or something terrible would happen. Like I could barely think without him hearing it. I've rarely wanted to flee a manor so quickly as that one."

"That does sound... unpleasant," he said, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he sipped his tea, unable to stop his imagination from conjuring visions of himself being used as little more than a puppet. "And his thralls were injured?"

"My master complained that he hadn't called until they were practically bleeding out -- afterwards, of course, not while we were there. Malnourished, too, with a haunted look about them." She put a hand on his knee with a sympathetic look. "But these were the Maestro's own thralls, not Alexander's. You have far less to worry about here. As I've said, I've always found him to be a very gentle vampire."

"Convenient," huffed Charlie. "A vampire with a reputation for being gentle and honest, who gets to blame all his thralls' injuries on his notoriously cruel sire."

Katherine looked alarmed. "Charlie --"

"I'm just saying that I find it hard to believe the apple falls that far from the tree."

Before Katherine could interject again, Miriam unexpectedly looked up from her knitting, fear written on her normally placid face. "But it is true," she insisted. "Lord Alexander has never hurt me. Neither has Miss Lily, except when she has to leave me there, and --" Tears began to roll down her face. "I can hear it. I can still hear it. Miss Lily told me I could forget, but I can't, I can't forget or he'll punish me --"

"Miriam, oh dear, Miriam, it's okay," said Katherine, pulling the sobbing thrall into an embrace. "It's all right, Miriam. No one's going to hurt you here. You're safe with us, dear."

"I can dance. I can do the dance perfectly, I promise, just let me try, I can do it." Miriam's anxious mumble was barely intelligible between her crying and the way she was pressed against Katherine.

"Miriam, you aren't there. You aren't anywhere frightening. You're having tea at Lord Alexander's house, remember?"

"I'm at...?"

"Lord Alexander's house. His thrall Oliver is being such a gracious host. It's perfectly safe. See?"

Miriam seemed to wake from her terror almost as quickly as she'd fallen into it. "Oh, of course, I don't know what I was thinking!" she said, glassy-eyed as she lifted her head from Katherine's shoulder. "Oh, I always enjoy when my madam visits Lord Alexander. He's very kind to me."

"Of course he is, dear," said Katherine, patting her back. "We really shouldn't bring up such awful topics around Miriam. She's a sensitive soul. Charlie, how's your baseball team doing?"

Oliver wanted to hear more, even though it terrified him, but he also felt awful that his questioning had thrown Miriam into a panic, so he eagerly went along with the topic change. "You like baseball, Charlie?"

"Love baseball, always have," he said, also looking relieved at the conversation switch. "My master gave me a great radio set, so I can listen to all the games. But my team's doing awful this year -- bottom of the league. They never shoulda traded their star pitcher..."

As Oliver listened to Charlie rant about blown games and poor referee calls, as Katherine discussed birdwatching and a new bread recipe she'd tried, he could almost forget the fear of his situation and feel a little bit normal.

It was only later, after Charlie and his madam left and Miriam was engrossed in her knitting, that Oliver was able to pull Katherine aside. "Katherine, will you please hear me out?"

"Certainly," she said in a motherly tone. "I know how hard it is, the first few weeks of being a vampire's thrall."

"What you said before..." He glanced around as if he were afraid his master would pop out of the shadows at any moment. "Am I safe here? Will I be all right? I've been conditioned to be unable escape..."

"That's normal, yes. I assume Miss Lily was the one who handled your conditioning?"

"She was."

"Then no, I don't expect you'll be able to escape," she said. She put a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I can't promise that you will be safe. What I said about the Maestro was all true, and while I do believe Alexander means well on the whole, you're among vampires now. We live in their world, and they do what they will with us."

Oliver felt his gut twist. "So then..."

"I've met so many thralls in my life. Hundreds, probably. Most in worse situations than you, and some in better," she said. "Would you like to hear my honest advice about surviving this?"

"Yes, by all means."

"Find happiness wherever you can. Find joy outside of your master's enthralling and feeding. Hobbies, food, art, education, anything that brings you pleasure -- indulge in it." She smiled warmly. "You'll need these pleasures to keep your mind sharp and keep your soul from despair. When you're permanently a prisoner, you need something tangible to look forward to, even if it's simply a warm drink or a beam of sunshine. You seem like the sort of man who can appreciate the mundane."

"...I like to believe so, yes."

"That's a skill that will serve you well, Oliver," she said. "Even if Alexander and his sire are cruel to you, you'll still have something to hold on to during your darkest moments."

"Something to hold on to..."

"I think you will figure it out. With how much Lord Alexander seems to prize you, it wouldn't surprise me to meet you here twenty years from now, looking back on our lives with our vampires."

She seemed to mean it, and that gave Oliver hope.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

I really enjoy Edith as a character and hope to write at least one side story with her.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree

#whump #whump writing #vampires #vampire whump #mind control #vampire whumpee #rare bookseller #oliver #alexander #lily #miriam #edith #katherine #ruth #charlie

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hey-its-roseaurum · 19 days

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Guilty until Proven Innocent-Part I

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for taking the time to look at this story. This is for a collaboration with @lainiespicewrites. She is an excellent writer and I figured it was my turn to stretch my writing muscles and put something out into the world. This is my first Henry Cavill fic, so please don't be too harsh. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: After recent murders in town, You (Olivia) decide to train with Edith in the art of self-defense. In the middle of training, you got a mysterious knock on the door. Sherlock walks in, looking for assistance with his latest case. He offers you to partake in a partnership to help him in his latest case? Do you take it?

Warnings: mentions of death

“You’re progressing nicely Olivia.” Edith smiled from above me, her elbow pinning me to the floor mat. There wasn’t a hint of sweat along her forehead. She had taken me down in less than a minute. The worst part was I thought I was going to land a hit on her this time.

”I’m beginning to think that you’re just saying that to soothe my pride”. I rasped out. She had eased her hold on me and stood up, extending a hand.

”Nonsense. Look how far you’ve come since you first stepped in these doors. Pretty soon you’ll be able to hold your ground with me.” She exclaimed as I grabbed her hand and hoisted myself up. My back had long since started throbbing.

For the past few weeks, I have been meeting Edith at her office to train and learn self-defense. Ever since the first girl went missing and was later found dead in the street I hadn’t been able to sleep soundly. There were constant, nagging thoughts that made me question if I was going to be the next victim. It had only gotten worse when they found the next girl a week later in the middle of an alleyway that I frequently visited. Her throat had been cut.

In London, it was ill-advised for a woman, especially of noble birth, to consider something as trivial as self-defense. Women are supposed to be soft, elegant, and passive. All of the trouble and responsibility in making decisions was for the men.

Being passive and soft didn’t save those girls from their cruel end.

And I wasn’t going to let myself become like them. I refuse to be the next girl that falls victim to this. So I went to my dear friend Enola at her detective agency and inquired about a solution to my predicament. She sent me over to Edith and had me start training the next day. I’ve been training every day since then.

I’m still not really good at it.

”Did you say the same thing when you were teaching Enola?” I inquired as I dusted myself off. Edith only shook her head.

”Not exactly. Her response was more witty, thanks to her mother.” Eudoria Holmes, the mother, the fire starter as people liked to call her. I’ve seen her wanted poster splayed all across London. But I didn’t see her as a criminal. I saw her as the woman who saved my life six months ago.

That morning had been cold and bitter. I remember feeling my fingers grow numb while I huddled against a mailbox. Its red paint had chipped away at its base, leaving rust behind.

Which was ironic and poetic now that I think back on it. And let me explain why.

It all started when my father had recently passed from a sickness that left my mother and me penniless. With no man in the house and no money to our name, we were cast out of society. My mother and I were thrown out and the estate that I called my home. It was sold to another noble family in the south.

We lived off the street after that. My mother, using what knowledge she had of needlework, had acquired a job as an assisted seamstress. I was left to salvage whatever pity people gave me and half-rotten food from dumpsters.

Eventually, we were able to afford a small cottage on the outskirts of town. It was small, run-down, and often had a damp smell to it. Mother didn’t like to be there for a long period. She claimed it was because she was so busy with her duties to the seamstress that she didn’t have time to spend there. I think it was because she missed her life at the estate and living in this small broken cottage was too much for her to bear.

That morning six months ago I decided to go into town to fill my water bucket and get bread before it got too crowded. When I got there, I sat down by the mailbox to wait for the bakery to open. I was particularly annoyed when I saw a lot of people around this early in the morning.

I was watching a man get onto a carriage when something shifted from the corner of my eye. It had been a man, or what I thought was a man walking towards me with a package in their hand. When we made eye contact I didn’t think anything of it. I just watched them and noted how stiff they walked. They placed the package in the slot of the mailbox. Before I knew it, I was grabbed by the elbow, hoisted upright, and pulled away from the mailbox.

That mailbox exploded, releasing a whirlwind of fliers into the air.

The two of us had run from the police. I was forced to since they refused to let go of my hand. We ran until this stranger knew that they weren't being followed.

When things settled down, the man revealed that they were a woman in disguise. She introduced herself as Eudoria Holmes and then proceeded to lecture me about being near explosives as if she were my own mother. All I had wanted to do was bite back, to lecture her on how she shouldn’t be putting explosives where there were people.

Instead, I broke down, not from her lecturing but because of something I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that I was waiting for a soggy piece of bread and nearly got blown up.

In the end, I told her everything. I told her my past, my current situation, and why I was even in town in the first place. One thing kind of led to another. The next thing I knew I was sitting in Eudoria’s house with a cup of tea in my hand.

I stayed in that damp cottage less and less as time passed and more at Eudoria’s warm, often chaotic home. That’s where I became friends with Enola, had briefly met her two brothers Sherlock and Mycroft, and felt somewhat happy.

I don’t know why she pulled me away from that mailbox. The one time I asked her she said she saw something in me, some sort of fire in my eye. She didn’t want it to go out along with the mailbox.

I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t tell that to her.

“So what you’re trying to say is that I still have a long way to go,” I asked as my brain jumped back to the present. I stepped away from the mat and made my way into her office.

”What I’m saying is you’re doing better than you think you are. You just began learning. Give yourself a little credit.” Following me, she made her way to the table by the window. A stack of teacups were messily stacked up to one side. She grabbed two, placed them on saucers, and poured liquid into both.

“I know. I’m just…worried. It’s been a week since the last victim was found and the police still haven’t found the suspect.” I let out a sigh and sipped some of my tea. I needed a moment to choose my words carefully. “I just want to be…prepared.”

A heavy pause filled the air before either of us spoke.

”Olivia…there’s more to that, isn’t there?” Edith’s words were soft and gentle.

“I mean I-“. My response was sharply cut short.

A knock pulled our attention away from our conversation and to the door. A tall man entered from the training room and to Edith’s office. I couldn’t place if he looked tall because of his size, or because of the giant top hat sitting snugly on top of his head. Dark wavy strands of hair peaked through from under his hat.

”Have you any sense what time it is?” Edith interrogated, crossing her arms. The man took off his hat, revealing thick brown locks. His sculpted jawline and nose complimented the hair. Blue, mesmerizing eyes glanced around, investigating.

But the feature that I recognized right away from him was his shoulders. I knew those shoulders.

”Hello, Edith” His attention briefly shot to me “Olivia” I curtly nodded, averting my eyes.

”Good evening Mr. Holmes.” I responded softly. “With what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. One of Enola’s older brothers. One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever seen.

”There’s no need for formalities Olivia.” I felt something warm begin to grow on my cheeks at his response. He’s only being polite Olivia. We are only acquaintances because of Enola and Eudoria. He doesn’t like you like that.

Or does he?

I’m not sure.

Sherlock Holmes is a difficult man to understand.

“What are you here for Sherlock?” Edith asked again, harsher this time. Her tone quickly pulled me back to the present and away from my thoughts.

Sherlock cleared his throat, his blue eyes revealing some sort of inner turmoil within himself. It was an unusual amount of emotion that I was not used to seeing. I expected it with Mycroft, he practically wore his emotions on his face at all times. Sherlock never did. He’s always been composed, and proper. Before me now he still was, but a layer of some sort had been chipped away.

”I….need your help.” He struggled to say the words like it was almost painful to him. A moment of silence clung in the air.

”Is it about Enola? Did she get herself into trouble?” There was a hint of concern in Edith’s voice when she begged the questions. The only response he gave was a small shake of his head. I watched as realization flashed on her face.

”There’s something about this case-“.

”That deduction cannot solve?” Edith finished his thought. He slightly nodded, setting his hat down on her desk. That was my cue. I softly placed my teacup down and made my way to the table by the window. I began making some tea for Sherlock while listening to the conversation.

”I may need your…skills to get information from a place I cannot enter.”

“What kind of place?” He listed off a name that I didn’t recognize. Edith’s face slightly reddened.

”A showgirl theatre?! You cannot ask me such a thing Sherlock, no matter how close we are.” My eyebrows raised as I grabbed a cup and saucer and poured some tea into the cup.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have another option. A woman’s life is at stake.” His tone was calm, but there was something else there.

”But going into this with the possibility of getting murdered is not something I’m comfortable with. Woman’s freedom and rights is one thing, going after a serial killer is a whole other matter entirely”

”Edith, I-“. I cut them off.

”I’ll do it. I’ll go instead of you.” In their arguing, I had made my way back to the two of them, Sherlock's tea in hand. I had left mine behind.

”Olivia, do you know what kind of place that is, what situations you can get into. You’re nowhere near ready to hold your ground”. What she said was like a punch to the gut.

I knew I wasn’t ready, we had that same conversation not thirty minutes ago. But I knew that if Edith went and something bad had happened to her Enola and Eudoria would be devastated. I was different. If I went and something happened to me, Edith would still be here training more girls like me.

”Who else is going to do it? Enola? She’s not expendable. I am. And Edith, what about the other girls you train?” I took a breath, the stubbornness in me growing. “Besides, I know these streets better than anyone. I’ve lived in them. I know where to go in case I’m being followed. And because of the way I look,”. I paused briefly looking down at myself, at my curvy, plump figure. “No one would suspect me. They would just see me as a showgirl trying to make ends meet. I can blend in, go undercover, and get the information that he needs in order to catch this murderer.”

A heavy pause hung between the three of us.

I let what I said sink into the two of them. I know that Edith is fighting with herself on whether she can let me go. She believes that I am her responsibility, and I kind of was while Eudoria was undercover. But since starting to learn to defend myself I told myself that I couldn’t sit and wait. Sitting and worrying about who the next victim is going to drive me crazy. If I can help and make a difference, then maybe the suspect will be caught before there’s more tragedy.

”I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to her.” Sherlock’s voice broke the silence and my inner thoughts. “You have my word.” His eyes met mine at his. I felt something else there besides the promise. Edith sighed, rubbing her temples with both her index fingers.

“Okay, Sherlock. Just…make sure she comes back in one piece.” Edith finally concurred. “You’re going to have to speak to your mother if you don’t.”

A smile tugged at my lips at the agreement. I finally raised the cup of tea, offering it to him.

”When do we start?”

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you want to read @lainiespicewrites story about Paul Atreides from the Dune Sage, here is her link: https://www.tumblr.com/lainiespicewrites/747032352877903872/the-atreides-era?source=share

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that1nerd-20 · 5 months

Text

Regulus black x F!Hufflepuff!reader oneshot

Summary.

Regulus never took notice of the quiet hufflepuff girl in his year. when his brother Sirius and his friends dragged him to the first hufflepuff game of the year, he is immediately drawn to her.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: cussing, metion of missing sibling, very brief mentions of abuse, mentions of alcohol, mostly fluff but some angst

(Tell me if there's others I need to put)

A/N:

Reader is female and in hufflepuff but there is no physical description other than being shorter than regulus but doesn't go into detail.

The reader is based heavily on Hogwarts mystery. Most of the friends in Hogwarts Mystery will move back in time with the reader (even tonks).

Also, Peter will stay good in this one. I used the Aaron T.J., Andrew G, Timothee, Ben b, and Dane Dehann fancast as my inspiration but any of the fancasts can be used.

Sorry if it's not that good... I did my best and finally got this thing done.

Please enjoy!!

Dictionary -

Nutter - someone who's clearly crazy

Manky - disgusting

Wanker - idiot

Tosser - supreme asshole or jerk

3rd person -

Today was the day of the first official Hufflepuff Quidditch game. Everyone from all four houses was making their way to the stands. While normally only Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws would attend since this was their match, everyone was attending because this was when the Hufflepuffs would announce who the new quidditch captain was.

Orion Amari, the quidditch captain from the last few years, graduated the year before. Everyone was eager to learn who would become the new captain.

A large group made their way to the stadium amongst the other excited students, the marauders and their other Gryffindor friends, and Regulus Black followed by his Slytherin friends. Sirius and Regulus were now on good terms, having gone back to their brotherly love from before Hogwarts. Regulus was a little nervous to be sitting with his brother in the stands but was as excited as every other student to see who was appointed as captain. In a few weeks, Slytherin and Hufflepuff would be facing off, and then again during quidditch cup season. He was slightly intimidated, what if this new captain proved to be better than the last and took Hufflepuff on to win the Quidditch Cup? But for now, he walks with his brother to their seats in the stands.

Everyone waits in anticipation as Murphy McNully comments on the Ravenclaw team who were already out on the field.

“So who do you think the new captain is?” Sirius addresses the group of friends, he turns in his seat to look back at them.

Marlene is the first to speak up, “I bet it’s Parkins,” a few of the others hum in agreement, “I mean she’s a Parkins, her family is crazy famous in terms of quidditch!” Remus nods before speaking up.

“You never know, it could be Waylan Jones,” he proposed. The others waited for him to continue his reasoning, “It's not all about the last name, Waylan is a prominent seeker, and he’s definitely got the leadership skills.” James seemed to ponder it for a moment before shaking his head.

“I have a feeling I know exactly who it is.” The others were about to question who it was until Murphy called out across the stadium that the Hufflepuffs were about to come out. Regulus had never taken an interest in the Hufflepuffs, he thought most of them were too kind for their own good. But he was excited today, Hufflepuff and Slytherin would be facing off in a few weeks, and he wanted to see their potential.

Finally, one side of the stadium started cheering, the students in that section had a clear view of the entrance and could see the Hufflepuffs coming through the tunnel.

Murphy Mcnully started calling out the players' names and positions as they filed in on their brooms “Waylan Jones seeker, Atlan Verdell keeper, Katie Shacklebolt beater, Castor Perren beater, Skye Parkins chaser, Edith Turner chaser….” Murphy paused smiling from ear to ear, “And the person you’ve all been waiting for, Hufflepuff's new captain….Y/N L/N!!” as soon as her name was called the h/c Hufflepuff came out on her broom, everyone erupted into cheers.

James had a smug look on his face, having had a sneaking suspicion that the girl would get the position. The quidditch players circled the stadium, Hufflepuff showing their talent by balancing standing up on their brooms. As Y/N flew by the group of friends she had a wide smile on her features, she waved to James as she passed him before leading the line of quidditch players back to the pitch.

Madam Hooch threw the quaffle up when the teams were situated, Ravenclaw started with the quaffle, and the Hufflepuff chasers went after the Ravenclaw with the quaffle.

The group of friends was in awe as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws scored points back and forth, but neither team could find the snitch disappointingly. McNully was calling out the plays left and right, talking at the pace of the game. When the 3 Hufflepuff chasers started setting up a Parkin’s pinscher, the crowd started going wild, a trademark move done only by Skye Parkin's dad in the big leagues. While the Hufflepuffs had done a parkin’s pinscher before it was only done in practice. “L/N and Parkin are flanking the sides of the Ravenclaw chaser, Jamie Walker, setting up a Parkin’s pinscher while Turner comes in from the front, hoping to steal the quaffle from Walker,” Mcnully announces from the commentator box.

The marauders and their friends turn their heads to a group near them in the stands cheering for Skye and Y/N, a brown-haired Hufflepuff named Rowan Khanna screams. “C’mon Y/N!! You got this!!” a pink-haired girl beside her cheers in agreement, wanting to encourage the Hufflepuff team.

POV: Regulus Black

I honestly stopped listening to the annoying commentator a long time ago, the new captain of the Hufflepuff team was beautiful. Hearing the name she was given allows me to recognize who she was, she was in my potions class. Professor Slughorn typically favored me in the class for some reason, although the only other person he likes in our class is a quiet Hufflepuff who sits in the back. She is never obnoxious, always does her work on time, and always asks questions that I can tell never help her but help other students in the class. I mean not that I watch her, that would be creepy, but I've noticed her.

I thought she was cute except I didn’t think she was my type, she didn't even seem like the quidditch type. Now that I see her performing these complex quidditch maneuvers, the way she had a confident aura when she was circling the stadium, and even the concentration she has in the game make her all the more appealing to me. What's even crazier to think about is the rumors swirling around about her and the cursed vaults. She's rumored to be looking for them and destroying them. I try not to listen to the rumors, but I know there are more rumors that I don't know about. If she was destroying the cursed vaults that would surprise me but also wouldn't at the same time, I would be surprised that this quiet shy girl was capable of taking the vaults down. Then I wouldn't be because now I see her in a new light.

There was so much more to this girl than I thought, and I must have been staring because my brother nudged me in the side with a knowing smirk on his face. “What is it?” I ask him loudly over the cheering crowds, he just shrugs “It just seems like someone has caught your attention..” he wiggles his eyebrows to get his point across. James, on the bench below them, turns around with a stern look, “You better not be talking about L/N ‘cause I’ll kick your arse, black.” I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks at the accusation.

“What makes you think that, Potter?” I ask him, feigning innocence, he just gives me a look of ‘Are you serious.’ he shakes his head. “I’m just telling you, you may be this git’s brother but L/N is like a little sister to me, you try to hurt her and I’ll snap your fingers off.” Sirius has a look of fake offense at the name, looking towards Remus for some backup. Remus gives a look of ‘Don’t bring me into this’. “Moony you can't be serious…!” Sirius had a skeptical tone, towards the boy he liked, but James chimed in before Sirius could have time to react “Well obviously he’s not you Sirius.” The group started laughing at the joke, while Sirius pouted for a moment.

I turned my attention back to the game, my eyes searching for the h/c girl, before finally spotting her in a thimblerig shuffle, a move that McNully himself invented. The three chasers shuffled the quaffle around before it landed in y/n’s hands and she sped away as the opposing chaser got confused about who had it. y/n scored a goal against Ravenclaw, while everyone cheered.

“It looks like Jones and Verdett have spotted the golden snitch!!” Everyone frantically looked around for the two seekers, before someone pointed, all eyes went to the seekers except one pair, mine. I kept my eyes trained on the gorgeous Hufflepuff, barely paying attention to the rest of the game, the other players kept the game going even though it wouldn't matter once one team caught the snitch. I watched Y/n move gracefully on her broom around the pitch, continuing to score points against Ravenclaw. I missed the fact that Hufflepuff had caught the golden snitch, while I watched her. Finally snapping out of my trance when the entire stadium was screaming.

I kept watching Y/n as she flew up to the stands near where we were sitting, she approached the group of people that I had noticed earlier.

“Hey, Rowan!”

Pov: Reader

“Hey, Rowan!”

I flew up to my best friend who was sitting with some of our friends after the game was won. She waved happily at me as I approached, the others smiled and cheered for me. Although it was funny to see a displeased Talbott in the seat next to Penny, I couldn't tell if it was from losing the game since he was a Ravenclaw or if it was from being dragged to a quidditch game no doubt by Penny.

“Y/N you did awesome!” Penny called me, ever the quidditch enthusiast she is. “I can't believe you made captain!” Rowan practically jumped with excitement, happy for her best friend getting the position she’d always wanted.

I laughed at her enthusiasm, “Yeah, I'm honestly surprised too. But Orion said he wanted it to be me, he didn't think anyone could have filled the spot better.”

We talk for a moment before getting interrupted by a loud James Potter with Sirius Black, Marlene Mkinnon, and Dorcas Meadowes in tow. “By Merlin, L/n, Congratulations!” I look over to James who is leaning against the railing, my eyes briefly drift behind him to the gorgeous Slytherin boy in my year, Regulus Black, before returning James’ wide smile.

“Y’Know Potter you better be careful this year, I’ll be winning that cup for Hufflepuff before you know it. Just because it's your last year doesn't mean I'll go easy on you.” I tease the 7th-year Gryffindor, he laughs loudly “In your dreams maybe!” I laugh with the rest of the group, while Penny argues with Marlene about who will win.

Eventually, James gets called by Lily to hurry up, and the group disperses. My friends started heading down the stadium, and I took one last glance at Regulus to see him already looking at me. I flush in embarrassment and head down to the entrance to the pitch so I can get changed out of my uniform.

Time skip- (Hufflepuff common room.)

Finally, I head down the stairs to the noisy common room with Rowan and Penny, after they make sure I'm dressed up properly, my heart thumps with excitement. The Hufflepuff’s were throwing a party to celebrate our win today, all four houses were invited. That means there's a good chance Regulus would be there, hence why Penny insisted I wear the best outfit I had.

When we reached the base of the stairs we could see people from every house, the music was blasting, and it seemed someone snuck in alcohol because I could definitely see some drunk people. We made our way through the common room, maneuvering between people. Finally, I saw Tonks by the drinks and headed in her direction.

Before I could make it to Tonks, a loud voice started booming over the speakers, “I know I may have caught the winning snitch today…” A few Hufflepuffs cheered as I turned around to watch Waylan, our seeker speak to everyone, sounding slightly drunk. “But I’m not the one we should be celebrating, we could not have done it without our wonderful captain, Y/N! Who led us to victory today and will make sure we win that cup!!" Everyone cheered as I felt someone pick me up and put me on their shoulders.

I squeaked slightly before looking down to see a flash of pink hair, tonks was holding me up. “Tonks put me down!” I laughed loudly.

Everyone encircled Tonks and I and started chanting my name. “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” I looked around as I laughed at everybody, I spotted the Black brothers, Sirius was yelling with everyone else and Regulus seemed a little uncomfortable. Before I could keep looking at Regulus I was dropped from Tonks’ shoulders onto the floor.

The rest of the night was spent dancing, drinking, and longingly looking at Regulus, Which Rowan and Penny definitely had their comments on.

Time skip - 2 weeks later - Hogsmeade - 3rd person

Regulus, Sirius, Remus, James, Lily, and Peter all walked into the three broomsticks, quickly finding the last available booth, right next to Y/N’s table with all of her friends. Regulus could hear the sound of Y/n’s laughter, it made his heart flutter. Over the last two weeks, regulus has paid more attention to the Hufflepuff.

Of course, he would deny any remark his brother and his brother's friends made about it, because Regulus Black did not fancy non-pureblood girls, but the others knew better than to believe that. It was clear to them that Regulus was head over heels for this girl, although much against James’ protests. Madame Rosmerta, the young barkeep at the three broomsticks, came over to their table to take their orders.

“What can I get for you kids today?” She pulled out a small notebook and pen, ready to write down the orders.

“6 butterbeers please.” Lily spoke up for the group as she leaned against James. Regulus wasn't paying much attention to the friends that surrounded him, his attention was drawn to Y/N who was getting up from her table to head to the bar. He hadn't noticed Madam Rosmerta leaving their table, nor the wide smirks from his friends, or even the giant scowl and staring coming from James across from him. He continued to watch Y/n even as her friends started noticing his heart eyes at her. Nothing mattered to him at the moment other than trying to memorize every little thing about her.

POV: Y/N

“I'm gonna go get one of the special butter beers, be right back.” I got up from the table as I excused myself from my friends, making my way up to the bar. I waited for Madame Rosmerta to get back. Specialty butterbeers require you to go up to the counter to get one, so I waited until I heard a familiar snarky voice behind me.

“So L/n when are you gonna give up the cursed vaults? I mean we all know I'm going to find and defeat them all, so why waste your time?” Merula Snyde, the bitchy Slytherin herself. “I'm not in the mood Merula..” I dont spare her a glance, but I can feel that she's getting angry.

“You trying to prove yourself to your parents?'' This makes me look at her with unamusement, “You trying to prove you're not worthless?”. I scowl at her as I turn my head fully to look at her before rolling my eyes and turning back to lean against the counter. “Do you want them to love you?” I hear her snicker before I respond., “I don't care about what my parents think so your argument is weak.” she stops and frowns before her scowl turns into a smirk.

“Or is it that you want to find your brother?” my head whips around to look at her; I can feel anger bubbling up inside me. “Well I think you’re gonna find a dead body..” she smiles coyly, and my hand slightly grips the table, trying to calm myself “What is your problem, Snyde?” I snapped. She sneered before replying “You're my problem L/N, I'm just counting the days until you turn into a nutter like your brother!” She laughs loudly and I don't take a second to think about my actions.

I lunged for her, pushing her to the ground before landing a hard punch to her face. She starts hitting me trying to get me off, but I land a few more punches before I am pulled off.

“You Bitch! Dont ever talk about my brother like that!” I scream at her, trying to push the arms around me off. I can vaguely hear Barnaby’s voice but it doesn't register as I continue shouting at her.

“You’re so done L/N! The next time I see you I'm gonna hex you for what you did to my face!” she shrieks as she holds her nose trying to stop the bleeding as one of her goons, Ismelda holds her up. “If you ever talk about my brother again or go near his room, I’ll kill you!” a few tears flow down my face as I scream at her, “he's my brother! That room is the only thing I have left of him, I don’t care if I have to go to Azkaban to keep you from it, you manky tosser!”

I was dragged outside by the person holding me, and when they set me down I recognized Barnaby’s jumper. Barnaby pulled me in for a hug, and I cried a little, but we were interrupted by Professor McGonagall clearing her throat.

I pulled away from Barnaby and stood in front of McGonagall, when Barnaby went back inside she began talking “What do you think you were doing Ms. L/N?!” I shrank a little as she questioned me, “That was highly inappropriate, I understand you're sensitive when it comes to your brother but that does not mean you are allowed to strike another student!” she raised her voice sternly, I felt small in her presence.

“Although I may feel indifferent to you getting a punishment, I am still your professor and rules are rules. So you will serve detention for a week in my classroom, taking care of the transfiguration subjects. And Hufflepuff will lose 10 points” She was about to turn to head into the three broomsticks before she looked back at me, “But do not worry, Ms.Snyde will also receive a punishment.” I nod, wiping my nose while I sniffle. I sit down on a bench right outside the door, wanting to calm down before I see my friends.

Pov: Regulus

“Bloody hell…” Sirius was right, bloody hell.

One minute Y/n was up at the bar clearly annoyed by whatever my housemate Merula was saying, and the next she was on top of Merula screaming at her. We all watched y/n get dragged out by Barnaby, as the girls continued to have a screaming match, but when McGonagall came in and told all of y/n’s friends to stay inside and give the girl a minute I knew it was my chance.

I snuck out of my seat when McGonagall was too busy reprimanding Merula, and made my way outside. When I got out there I found y/n sitting on a bench crying, not sure what to do. I sat down next to her. Oh my god, this is so awkward… How do you console a crying girl? Cmon regulus…think!... Think! For Merlin's sake…

“A-are you alright?” bloody hell, that's the best you can do? y/n turned and looked up at me, seemingly startled by my presence. She quickly wipes her eyes, “Y-yeah… I’m fine.” we sit awkwardly before she speaks up again, “N-no… I'm not fine..” she plays with her fingers as she looks down at her lap.

“Why do you let her words affect you?” I let the words slip out of my mouth without thinking, she looked up at me again. “I-i mean Merula isn't nice to anyone, Y-you um shouldn't listen to her, she doesn't know what she's talking about ever. She's like a walking babbling beverage.” Curse my mouth! Merlin, can I ever shut up? I ramble awkwardly before shutting up and turning red a bit. I mentally curse myself for being so awkward before I'm drawn out of thoughts by a giggle. I look down at her laughing form, “A b-babbling beverage??” I nod a small smile forming on my lips.

“Thank you, that just made my day…” she smiles up at me, “you're welcome..” I flash an awkward smile, before asking “Do…do you want to talk about what happened in there?” she looks down for a second.

“My brother went missing 3 years before we started at Hogwarts, in truth I don't remember a whole lot about him… he started at Hogwarts a year after I was born so he wasn’t at home a lot.” she fiddled with her fingers more as she talked.

“Not that I can blame him, our mother is abusive and our father is a compulsive liar.” my hand clenched in my lap as I thought about her being hit by her parents. I've seen my fair share of abuse, I'd rather suffer my mother's wrath than see y/n hurt by hers. “I know most people think my brother is dead but I won't believe he is, I just won't. I can't give up on him, not like everybody else…” I slowly grab her hand lightly, offering what little comfort I know.

“T-thank you for telling me…” I whisper as she looks up at me, “I'm glad you trust me enough…” she smiles softly, I lift my other hand and wipe a stray tear away.

“Thank you for listening…” We sit for a few moments in silence before I stand up. She looks up at me in confusion, about to speak until I cut her off. “You wanna head back to the castle? I can buy us both butterbeers to take with...” my voice wavers, slightly nervous to ask her.

“You know what it was a stupid idea, you can just forget about it, you probably want to go back to your friends..” I ramble for a moment before I feel her hand grab mine. I look down at her to see her smiling. “I’d like that alot,” I nodded, giving her my smile as well, “then I'll go get them right now.” I headed back inside, quickly ordering two to-go butter beers. As I was walking back out I caught my brother's eye and smiled at him holding the two butterbeers. A silent explanation as to why I was leaving.

POV: Y/N

Regulus and I trekked the long road back to the castle as we talked and drank our butter beers. We actually had a lot in common. We both loved quidditch, potions, and reading. Although our reading tastes were a bit different we both recommended some of our favorite books to each other.

“You know... I never got to say that you look beautiful today.” he said after a moment of silence, “I-I mean not that you aren't any other day but- and not that I watch you or anything. Oh my god, that came out so weird…I’m going to shut up now…” I laugh slightly at his awkwardness, his cheeks flush red in embarrassment. “Thank you, I'm happy you think so, black” I smile sweetly, placing my hand on his upper arm as a thank you while we stop walking for a moment. I awkwardly jerk my hand back when he looks down at it. I clear my throat as I start walking again, I hear him walking again as he catches up to me.

“Call me Regulus, please…” he stops us for a second, pulling me to face him, “Alright… Regulus.” his first name felt strange on my tongue. It's only now that I realize the proximity of our faces, my face heats up as we both pull away and continue our walk back to Hogwarts.

Pov: 3rd person

Over the next few weeks, Regulus and Y/n become close friends, hanging out in and out of classes, studying together in the library, and even on the rare occasion the students can sit anywhere in the great hall no matter the house, they sit next to each other. Their friends had all taken notice and constantly teased them about getting together, but both parties denied it and claimed all they were, were good friends.

Pov: Y/N (sorry for so many pov changes)

Time skip: a Thursday night in January

My hand was cramping from how long I had been clutching onto the blue quill I owned. There were ink stains all over my fingers, and a few small smudges on my face. My roommates had all long gone to bed, Rowan had stayed up for a little extra, while she helped me with something, but I ended up insisting she go to sleep after she fell asleep on my desk.

Woody, my orange tabby cat had curled up on an empty spot on my desk, his purrs were the only other noises besides the sound of my quill scribbling on paper and my dormmate’s snores. The essay for potions was due tomorrow and I hadn't had any time between quidditch duties, assignments for other classes, classes themselves, and exploring the mysteries of the cursed vaults.

I'm only brought out of my studying trance when there is a tap at my window. I look up to see an owl that looks vaguely familiar. Approaching the window I begin to recognize it as Regulus’s owl, Apollo, I open the window and let the large bird step onto my arm. I close the window so the room doesn't get chilly, bringing him over to my desk while I give him some head scratches.

“What are you doing here, love?” I set him on the perch where my owl, Merlin, normally resides. I pull out a small piece of meat as a treat while taking the note in his talons. I sit back down in my chair as I unfurl the parchment, I get a little giddy as I read the first words.

Y/N Darling, I was hoping you would meet in the astronomy tower tonight at one. You deserve some time away from that essay I know you worked hard on, all night.

I smiled at the handwriting before I saw a small messily scrawled note at the very bottom of the parchment.

And p.s there is no need to give Apollo any more treats he was already bribed with more than he could ever need to even just deliver this note.

I gazed up at said owl who looked down at me sheepishly, I smiled and reached my hand up to give him some more scratches.

“You cheeky bird,” I giggled softly, conscious of the sleeping girls behind me, “don't worry I’ll still give you treats, you deserve it pretty boy.” Apollo cooed as he rubbed his head against my hand.

With a newfound motivation to finish my essay, I quickly got back to work, it was already close to midnight and I knew it would take me at least 30 minutes more to finish. When I finally finished the essay I rolled it up and stored it near my potion textbook, before I changed into something more suitable, comfy, and warm than pajamas. I let Apollo climb onto my shoulder as I started to sneak out of the Hufflepuff common room.

As I walked down the dark halls of the castle I listened intently for any teachers roaming the halls, I didn't plan on getting detention while I tried to sneak up to the astronomy tower. I will admit it was tricky getting up there from all the way in the dungeons, and after a close call with almost getting caught by Professor Kettleburn, I made it to the stairs of the astronomy tower. I took cautious steps up the stairs, careful not to make unnecessary noise.

Finally making it to the top, I spotted Regulus leaning against the railing facing away from me.

My face heated up as I took his appearance in. His curly hair was half pulled up into a small ponytail tail, pulling his bangs away from his face. His Slytherin quidditch sweater was tucked into his dark jeans. I half expected Apollo to fly back to his owner, but he did not indicate wanting to move away from me, seemingly content on my shoulder snuggled up to me.

“Reg?” I called out to the raven-haired boy, his gray-blue eyes met mine as I approached him. His lips turned up into a smile when he saw me, before laughing softly at the way Apollo was cuddled up to my head. He met me halfway, walking away from the railing as he reached his hand up to his owl.

“He hasn't caused you any trouble, has he?” He chuckled while petting the dark bird on the head, I shook my head no in response. “Apollo never causes me any trouble, he's a good boy.” I stroked said owl's chest with a curled finger as we both looked at him. Regulus laughed softly at the comment, “I don't know about that..” he shifted his gaze to me. I feigned offense, “Are you calling me a liar reg? Maybe he just likes me more…” A small coo from Apollo, sounded as though he agreed with me. Regulus rolled his eyes before picking Apollo up. “It's time for you to head back to the owlery, bud.” The dark owl seemed reluctant to leave but finally gave in and flew back to the tower made for the owls. When Regulus turned back to me he motioned to a blanket splayed across the floor near the railing. I sat down on the blanket, letting my feet dangle off the edge of the tower. I crossed my arms over the lowest bar on the railing while Regulus sat down next to me doing the same thing.

“So what constellations do you remember from astronomy class?” my head turned to look at him as I nervously laughed. “uhhh...None of them?” I lifted my shoulders and hands as I admitted I didn't remember. He simply smiled and turned back to look at the night sky, he lifted his hand and pointed at a section of the sky.

“Well, that's Ursa major.” Making a pattern with his fingers, I quickly found the constellation he was talking about. A few things started to come back to me as he pointed out more constellations.

I reached up and pointed to the Leo constellation, “And there's your star…” I glanced at him as I spoke softly, his arm was now wrapped around my shoulders, our faces a few centimeters apart. Despite the cold biting at my face, I could feel my skin heat up. He nodded softly as we continued to gaze into each other's eyes. We both awkwardly pulled away and looked back at the night sky. Eventually, I grew sleepy and laid my head against his shoulder as he continued explaining the different constellations.

When the sun started making its way over the horizon, Regulus and I made our way down the tower, so we would be able to make it to breakfast in time. We parted ways in the dungeon when we went to our respective common rooms. “See you later, Reg.” I gave him a soft smile as I walked through the door.

Timeskip: Saturday afternoon in January, before a quidditch game

My team and I headed out of the changing rooms in our uniforms with brooms in hand, i was the last one out and was a few paces behind my team.

“Y/N!” I hear a familiar voice call out to me, when I turn around I spot Regulus jogging towards me decked out in Hufflepuff pride wear. He finally reaches me, I take in his fake jersey with my number on it. A few of my fellow Hufflepuffs had created fake casual jersey wear for students to support their favorite players. You could get long-sleeved t-shirts with any of the player's name and jersey number on it. I wonder how he got ahold of one of those.

“You like my shirt?” he spun around, grabbing the top of the shirt at the back to show off the bold lettering that spelled out my last name. He turned back around, “I figured I got to show my support for my favorite Hufflepuff.” he then grabbed the hand that wasnt holding my broom, before kissing the back of it. “Good luck out there, L/N.” before I could say anything he was rushing up the stairs to the stands. I stood there frozen for a moment before one of my teammates calling for me, broke me out of my trance. I mounted my broom and sped off through the tunnel.

Throughout the entire game, I kept looking over at Regulus, he was cheering me on the entire time and I could barely contain the flush that invaded my face. This time wasnt any different than any of our games. We always cheer each other on but seeing him wear my name and number made my knees weak.

Timeskip: (sorry) Hufflepuff party later that night.

I had successfully avoided regulus most of the night, I made it as inconspicuous as I could. I didn't want to hurt his feelings but still needed time to process. I stood over by the drink table, sipping on soda, I was startled by hearing his voice next to my ear. He had to be close enough for me to hear but that didn't stop the chill that ran up my spine.

“If I didn't know any better id say you were avoiding me, Y/N” This was one of the many times where he isn't the soft, kind regulus I know but the cocky and dare I say flirtatiously teasing regulus. I turned to look at him, trying to ignore the rate at which my heart was beating.

“I'm not avoiding you.” I do my best to lie, but we both know it's not true. I take another sip of my soda before I feel his hand ghosting over the back of my upper arm, just above my elbow. We continued to look into each other's eyes but a cough interrupted us. I glanced next to me to see Peter who was waiting patiently. I smiled and turned my body towards the 7th year, I had to admit the boy was handsome in his own quirky way.

“Hi y/n, I was wondering if you'd like to dance?” he held a lopsided grin, completely ignoring the dark-haired boy beside me. I glanced up at Regulus for a moment before returning Peter's smile and nodded. I set my cup down on the table behind me and grabbed Peter’s hand as he led me onto the dance floor.

Another time skip: (I know and I'm sorry) Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch game a few weeks later

I stood with Barnaby, Remus, and Lily as we all watched the quidditch players warm up. James had been a little grumpy when he saw the old jersey I was wearing. About 2 nights after the party we had, a package showed up at my doorstep with a spare Slytherin jersey that belonged to Regulus. He wrote a note saying he wanted me to wear it every time I was at one of his games. So here I was wearing a green jersey with the name Black written across my shoulder blades. Sirius was just as mad but said at least it was his brothers and not some other Slytherin. Barnaby on the other hand was very happy.

“So, you see your lover boy yet?” Lily stood beside me as she spoke, she gave me a knowing smirk and a nudge to my side. I gave her a playful glare before answering “We're not dating, Lily.” I watched as the Slytherin players started walking onto the pitch, “you know that.” both quidditch teams mounted their brooms and practiced on each half of the stadium before it was time to start.

I talked to Barnaby as we waited for them to start the match until a voice spoke in front of me. I looked to see Regulus on his broom with a smile. “You wore the jersey.” I rolled my eyes playfully as he got closer. “Yeah, what about it reg?” I leaned against the railing a bit more. “You look good in my jersey, I should give you more of my clothes to wear..” he grinned devilishly, a call of his name from over his shoulder was heard, they were about to start. “You should get back down there, you are the captain after all.” I smiled softly, leaning back away from the railing.

“Yeah that is true but there is something I have to do first.” I was about to ask what but he cut me off by colliding his lips with mine, I could hear wolf whistling and cheering around me as I leaned into the kiss and cupped his face with my hands. His gloved hand held my chin softly before he pulled away with a bright smile and flushed face.

“That was for good luck…” I laughed at his antics while he slowly pulled his broom back. “If you win this game, you'll get as many as you want!” I called out to him as he headed back down the pitch before he called back. “I'll hold you to that.”

My heart raced rapidly in my chest, my lips were tingly, and my face was warm. “Not dating, my ass.” it's safe to say James and Sirius left the game without another win under their belts and Regulus walked out with a new girlfriend and promises of lots of kisses.

#regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black oneshot #regulus black fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #hufflepuff reader #female reader #regulus black x female reader

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carpooling-the-internet · 7 months

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Star Trek fanfic recs

A long list of some of my all time favorite Star Trek fics. Not in any order. I just combed through my ao3 bookmarks for fics that still resonate with me and really blew me away. I will try to tag the authors if I can find blogs for them. If you know an authors blog I haven’t tagged, please tag them!

I dont have the spoons to write lil reviews for each fic bc theres toooooo many but maybe I’ll come back and edit some in sometime.

And eventually I’m gonna make a list like this for Sherlock Holmes and a few other fandoms. Also want to make one specific to podfics. We’ll see what happens first! This took me way longer than I thought it would…

Recs below the cut!

Star Trek TOS and AOS

The Thousandth Man (56187 words) by Ophelia_j In the wake of pon farr, the events on Vulcan are weighing heavy on Spock and his Captain. But will their attempt to fix the problem only make things worse?

The effect of sucrose on Vulcans (2290 words) by Ophelia_j After a successful diplomatic mission, Jim begins to suspect there's something wrong with Spock. Some Old Married Spirk Fluff for the 2019 OMS Challenge, for the awesome plaidshirtjimkirk.

The Eleventh Hour (8551 words) by Ophelia_j During a joint lecture at the Academy, Spock senses that Kirk is growing tired of the secrecy around their relationship and takes steps to resolve the matter.

A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (14940 words) by VTsuion The development of Kirk and Spock's relationship over the course of The Original Series, told in a series of off-screen moments.

The World Turned Upside Down (24777 words) by Jenna Hilary Sinclair On a planet torn by civil war, Kirk must battle insurgents, a Vulcan Healer, and his own heartbreak to find his way to Spock.

The Ren shat'var Trilogy (184,403 words) by CateAdams A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection.

First, Best Destiny - Parts One and Two (387733 words) by Ophelia_j A novel-length retelling of original Star Trek canon through the lens of one of the greatest relationships ever committed to film. Using missing scenes, episode tags, and original story-telling. Ultimately a Generations fix-it.

All the Time in the World (27856 words) by LSPINGLES The death of Edith Keeler affects Kirk and Spock in different ways. Spock invites Kirk to come with him to Vulcan to heal. Along the way the learn something about their feelings for each other.

Spice (276553 words) by eimeo It’s a question of biology. Vulcan biology. The problem with falling in love with a member of an insanely private species is that it just might take you the best part of a five year mission to work out that the feelings are requited. And then you might discover that he’s already decided that the two of you can never be together. And what are you supposed to do if he won’t tell you why?

Fulfilling the Needs of the One (Or the Both) (8741 words) by plaidshirtjimkirk Spock begins to wonder if his relationship with Jim has been one-sided in his own favor.

Touch Upon the Wonders that You See (4071 words) by waldorph Sarek does not always understand his son, but that does not mean he does not love him.

Entering Orbit (30957 words) by museaway Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch.

Something Smart to Do (21322 words) by kianspo In which Jim finds himself fake-married to his first officer every other month. It's not his fault. Mostly. Dowries and Klingons are involved. Starfleet is decidedly not amused.

Don't Stop Believing (205901 words) by kianspo The story follows Spock from his own days as a cadet at Starfleet Academy to the ‘present day’ when he’s Kirk’s first officer and the Enterprise is on its five-year mission. Essentially, the story of Spock’s first real love followed by the story of him finding the love of his life. Ad astra per aspera.

And Then I Let It Go (10632 words) by kianspo Post-Star Trek Beyond. The crew of the Enterprise gets a breather while they are waiting for their new ship. Jim uses the time to do something he had sworn he would never do.

The Lotus Eaters (93594 words) by aldora89 Stranded on the planet Sigma Nox while searching for a missing away team, Spock and Kirk find themselves pitted against a disturbing native life form. With the captain out of commission on a regular basis and Spock struggling to preserve his stoicism, staying alive is difficult enough – but when a slim chance for escape surfaces, their resolve is truly put to the test. Together they must fight for survival in the heart of an alien jungle, and in the process, uncover the mystery of the planet’s past. Slow build K/S.

Atlas (135529 words) by distractedKat Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning. A novel-length continuation of the 2009 movie told in four parts. Cross-posted from FFN. PODFIC AVAILABLE! https://archiveofourown.org/works/652116/chapters/1187249

The Word Withheld (12032 words) by j_s_cavalcante After retrieving Kirk from the interspatial rift of "The Tholian Web," Spock realizes his oath to Starfleet and his service aboard the Enterprise are in jeopardy because he has denied to himself—and withheld from Kirk—a certain truth about the nature of the Vulcan relationship called "t’hy’la."

this is what happens when you save earth, apparently (5454 words) by WerewolvesAreReal “So, why haven't you settled down with some lucky lady yet?” the interviewer asks. Maybe it's the blinding set-lights, or the fact that he hasn't slept in thirty-five hours. But for some reason Kirk blurts, “Honestly, they all end up getting jealous of Spock.”

Four times the Enterprise Crew didn´t realize that their commanding officers were married to each other and one time they finally found out (4130 words) by razzleberryicedtea In which Spock and Jim casually forget to mention that they are married, and the Enterprise crew is too oblivious to notice on their own

A Star to Steer By (32043 words) by Borealisblue Kidnapped, injured, and headed towards Romulan space, Kirk could only be grateful that his last act was saving Spock from the same fate. And all it had cost was a stolen kiss.

An Open Secret (3495 words) by TransScribe Amanda Grayson knew her son. She could read him, easily. That might've been why she had suspicions about his relationship long before he said anything. It was more likely because subtlety was not a trait Spock had inherited.

the book of love (7297 words) by miss_frankenstein When yet another away mission goes awry, Jim and Spock are left stranded on a hostile planet with nothing to do but talk. What follows is a conversation about art and literature, life and death, love and friendship.

Take My Hand (My Whole Life Too) (5981 words) by pastmydancingdays Whilst in one of the most dangerous situations of his life, Jim Kirk came to a realisation that he should have had a very long time ago. Two, in fact, and he was about to let neither go to waste. A potential epilogue to Amok Time.

Ashayam (3378 words) by Willowe Spock knows he has no right to refer to Jim as any sort of endearment, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. If he had only listened to this logic he wouldn't find himself in this position, standing on the bridge having just called his captain "ashayam".

@ophelia-j

@razzleberryicedtea

@vtsuion

@plaidshirtjimkirk

@cate-adams

@pastmydancingdays

@werewolves-are-real

@eimeo-blog

@aldora89-blog

@museaway

@kianspo

@lspingles

@waldorph

@miss-frankenstein

#Star Trek #tos #aos #fanfiction #fic recs #ao3 #star trek the original series #star trek 2009 #star trek reboot

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wonder-queen-123 · 5 months

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You and Shoji have known each other since you were in UA, although you were in different classes. Shoji was in the hero course, and in Aizawa’s class, while you were in the support course with Mei Hatsume and Power Loader.

Shoji stopped by the support course classroom a handful of times with the excuse that he needed his mask repaired, but most of the time you could tell he was lying. “Shoji, I’ve already fixed it for you again last Wednesday. How did you manage to tear it again that quickly?” You responded jokingly.

“Well you know how hero training can be. Especially with Bakugo and Kirishima’s quirks. Not to mention Mina, Midoriya, Yaoyorozu-“ you cut him off, and shook your head.

“I get it. A lot can happen during hero training, but at this point I already know that you’re just using that as an excuse. You’re only saying your mask ripped again so you can just come back and talk to me. Aren’t you?”

With his mask covering his face, it was hard to tell, but you knew he was blushing.

Once the two of you graduated from UA, you saw less and less of each other, but tried to stay in contact as much as possible.

By the time you were in your early twenties, you were already a store owner, and had so many different things hanging up.

With your quirk, you had made countless blankets, quilts, clothes, and machines that filled your store. However, you never could’ve expected who would walk into your store, and would end up becoming your most frequent customer.

It was the middle of the afternoon, and you were in the back working and listening to your favorite song, Home by Edith Whiskers.

“Man, oh, man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness

There ain't nothing that I need

Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ

Ain't nothing please me more than you.”

You sang by quietly, no louder than a soft whisper.

“Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you.”

As you continued singing quietly, you didn’t hear the bell above the front door ring, so you didn’t know you had a customer. “Babe, you here?” Shoji called out, looking around all the different items you had laying around.

Since Shoji was a frequent customer, and your best friend, he was the only one allowed to go to the back room without you tagging along. Once he saw you, he noticed you were working on another quilt, and had your earbuds in, as well as quietly singing to yourself.

He smiled softly, and tapped you on the shoulder, now getting your attention. You turned around, and immediately stood up, and hugged him. “Hey! Long time no see, Octo-guy!!” You teased, as you playfully punched him in the arm.

“How’s my favorite customer been since last time I saw you?” He picked you up, and carried you to the main area of the store, and pointed to one of the quilts that were hanging up. “How much?” He asked, as he kissed your forehead before setting you down.

For my favorite, and most frequent customer, let me think.” You started getting your ladder to reach the quilt. “I would say about ¥100, but…it’s on the house. But, there is one thing you could pay me…if not the yen.” You said, coming down from the ladder, and winking at him.

His smile grew wider, once again he scooped you up in his arms, and this time brought you to the back room. He closed the door behind him, and set you on a table. He then took the quilt from your hands, and put it to the side.

As the two of you were having your moment, neither of you realized that someone had walked in the store.

After about 10-ish minutes or so, you finally heard the bell at your desk ring, indicating that you had a customer. You tried to push Shoji off of you, but he was too preoccupied to notice anything.

Without thinking, you yelled “customer! I have a customer, Mezo!” He suddenly stopped, and quickly got off of you, and helped you up. He then looked away apologetically, and mumbled a soft “sorry, babe.”

With his head hanging low, he walked over to the quilt, and started making his way towards the door. “You quickly ran to the door, and stopped Shoji from opening it. “I’m sorry, Tentacole! Please forgive me!” You said quickly, bowing apologetically.

Shoji looked up at you, and put his hand on your head. “No,” he began softly, lifting your head up. “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized what I was doing, as well as that you’re still at work. Forgive me, Princess.”

You froze at the rarely used name, and stated at him. Tears were stinging your eyes, but you didn’t care. You grabbed his hand, and walked out of the back room, and went to the main lobby.

The customer looked at the two of you in confusion, but quickly brushed it off as you asked them what you could help them with. “I’m here to pick up my quilt…that I ordered the week before last.”

“Tentacole, and Ms. Wilson, please follow me.” You said, as you led both of them to a corner next to the back room. “Tentacole, do you think you could reach up there for me, and get the quilt that’s got the mandala design on it?”

After Shoji got the quilt down, you had forgotten just how big and heavy you had made it, but with Shoji and yourself lifting it together, you could’ve sworn it felt like you were lifting a feather at that point.

“Thanks for the help, Octo-guy. I owe you one. And Ms. Wilson, if there’s anything else I can make for you, please let me know. Have a nice day, Ms. Wilson, and I’ll see you next time!” You said, as you waved goodbye to Ms. Wilson.

#anime x reader #bnha #mezo shoji #shoji x reader #fanfic #x reader #pro hero au #pro hero Shoji #tentacle hero: Tentacole x reader

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winterrrnight · 3 months

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“familiar yet unrecognizable faces” — new beginnings chapter III

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe cameron x mom!reader

WARNINGS: mentions of drugs, drug dealing, bruises

EDITH SPEAKS: a character that we absolutely HATE is being introduced in the fic for the very first time 😐 but keeping that aside, you will see why Rafe is at school 🤭🤭 sooo many of you guessed it accurately!!

I hope you enjoy reading!! Please reblog and share all your thoughts 💐

navigation || requests || join my taglist || series masterlist

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↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

“Y/n!” Rafe exclaims, his own shock evident in his speech. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Sage’s first day here,” you say, and Rafe looks above your shoulder to see Sage very carefully inspecting some paint tubes kept next to the rest of the art supplies.

“I’m glad she’s in my class then,” Rafe smiles.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Your class?” You echo, confused. Even though you know exactly what he means, you want to hear it from him.

“I teach this class,” he says, walking inside. You follow him, watching him sit in the teacher’s chair, and he gestures to you to sit opposite him, a wooden table between you two.

“Wow okay,” you chuckle. You look around the classroom, the walls tinted a beautiful sky blue, with birds painted on them. The window shows a view of the carefully curated garden of the preschool.

“What, you didn’t expect me as a teacher?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips, the table supporting his elbows and his face resting in his hands.

“Honestly? No, not really, but I like it,” you smile, leaning back into your chair and resting your back.

Suddenly you feel your pants being tugged in an all too familiar way. You look down to see Sage, a bright smile on her face.

“Mamma it’s Fafe!” She yells excitedly. You laugh at her words and pull her up into your lap.

“Yes, it’s Rafe baby,” you look up at Rafe to see him with a smile, his eyes softened as he’s looking at the little bundle of joy in your arms.

“Hello Sage, are you excited to be here?” He asks, leaning in closer to her. She nods her head vigorously with excitement, causing Rafe to laugh at her actions.

“Well then why don’t you go sit with the rest of the kids? Your mom needs to do some important work now with me,” Sage hums at his words and jumps down your lap, and rushes to her new classmates.

Rafe opens a folder and hands you a paper and a pen. You look at it to see it’s just some basic paperwork regarding Sage, her name, her birthday, and the rest of the required fields.

“You just need to fill this out and we’re all set,” he tells you and you nod at his words, looking over the empty blanks of the form. You start filling them up, but one column makes you stop.

“Uh Rafe?” You call him out. He’d busy himself with some of his own work. “I uh, I don’t have anything to fill in here,” You say, pointing to one of the blanks on the page.

“Father’s name,” he mumbles, “are you a single mother?”

He had his speculations you were single, but he didn’t want to assume something before he knew something for sure.

“Yeah,” you shy away from his gaze, your eyes settling on your lap, “I’m divorced,”

“Alright, that’s no issue, just,” he takes a pen, “check this box,”

You look at the page to see he’s checked some box regarding single parents.

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the paper back from him and filling the rest of the form.

Once you’re done filling all the paperwork, you get up from your chair to go to Sage. She’s now busied herself with painting, her brush creating random strokes on a white page. You get on your knees in front of her, your hold on her shoulders. “Mamma’s going now, okay? Don’t misbehave,” you say, giving her a stern look.

“I won’t mamma,” she smiles, and gives you a kiss on your cheek.

“I’ll come to pick you up very soon,” you tell her, getting up from the floor.

You turn around to see Rafe leaning next to the wooden table. He has a soft smile on his face, you can’t help but break into a smile yourself.

“I’ll, I’ll see you later,” your gaze has fallen to your shoes as you feel Rafe looking at you. There’s something about his blue eyes which always seem like they are piercing you. The kind of eyes which you ache to look at again just the second you stop looking at them.

The kind of eyes which are too easy to get lost in.

He wishes you well, and you leave the classroom, not knowing his gaze is fixed at you, longing for you.

— —

You’re sitting on your couch with Sage lying on your lap, her eyes closed as she’s lost in a deep slumber. The lights of your living room are dimmed, the bright light of the tv in front of you dances across you. One of Sage’s cartoons is playing, but as she’s drifted off, you switch the channel to the news one.

“Three men caught in exchange of drugs, the heroin weighs to around 15 kilograms,” the reporter on the tv says. A little video pops up next to him, showing three men with their backs towards the camera, and each man is being held by a policeman, their hands locked well in handcuffs.

The camera cuts to their faces, and the reporter continues speaking. “The men have been identified as Bill Anderson, Aaron Simmons, and Adrian Hayes. They have been…”

The voice of the reporter fades out, as you hear the familiar name and see the familiar face.

You only hear a ringing in your ear as you sit up straight, your eyes wide, as you see Adrian with bruises on his face, his hair reduced to a bare minimum, black circles prominent under his eyes, and pale skin to add to it all.

You can’t even recognise him.

This is the same man you gave you Sage.

The same man who once promised to love you for an eternity, but now, you’re seeing him on tv, completely unrecognizable, as he gets caught for drug dealing.

You shake your head, suddenly feeling your throat dry up, your eyes wide and breathing fast. You turn off the tv, not wanting to look at that horror anymore. You had almost forgotten about Sage sleeping in your lap, looking so peaceful as her chest heaves up and down with her deep breaths.

You pick her up in your arms and take her to her room, laying her in her bed. She doesn’t detect any single movement as she continues to sleep relaxedly. You gently kiss the top of her head, smoothing her hair with your hand.

“I’ll always keep you safe baby, always.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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your-favorite-god · 7 months

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Vita nostra aeterna pt 1

Wednesday's child is full of woe, ep 1

I’m not sure whose twisted idea it was to put hundreds of adolescents in underfunded schools run by people whose dreams were crushed years ago… but I admire the sadism.

A monochromatic girl walked the halls of a seemingly normal high school, walking swiftly when she turned and pulled open a locker. Out falls her younger brother, Pugsley.

“ I want names.”

‘I don't know who they were, honest! It happened so fast…”, the boy panics. He didn't want to witness the outcome of whatever his sister did.

“Pugsley, emotion equals weakness. Pull yourself together.” As her brother continued to squirm and whimper Wednesday tried to start a sentence but was rudely interrupted. Images of what had happened before, her head thrown back as she saw the horrid jocks jeering at her little brother while they tormented him. “Wednesday?”

I’m not about to confess to my brother that I’ve recently been plagued by visions. They come on without warning and feel like electroshock therapy, but without the satisfying afterburn.

“Leave this to me”, Wednesday says as she promptly walks away. “Wednesday? What are you gonna do?” Pugsley questions, now free from his restraints.

“What I do best.”

Endears POV:

“Wednesday, you know I always love your company. But is now the time? I was just about to tell Christina what happened at that gathering her precious Jonathan attended before class started”

She stares at me with a bag of piranhas in hand,” Cara, do you still have the peroxyacetic acid you made?” I look at her with a raised brow, “Of course I do, why?”. “Those fools hog-tied Pugsley and shoved him in his locker. I intend to teach them a lesson.”

I can see how this might be confusing for you, allow me to briefly explain. Wednesday Addams is what most would call my best friend.

Soulmate.

Shush ma morelle, anyways, we met a decade ago in the woods. She intruded upon my home and I found her very cute. So I decided to stay with her, my adorable little human. I came with her to her home and have continued to live with her family. I've even joined her in this boring little hovel named school. Or Should I say schools, we’ve been to many. Wednesday has this horrible habit of getting caught.

It’s more satisfying to watch the looks on my victims' faces.

As you can see, Wednesday has no appreciation for subtlety. But we’re just getting to the fun part, so let us get back to it.

“Well then, allow me to raise you a better idea. Thallium in the principal's coffee. I’d prefer to avoid life on the run for now.” Wednesday pauses for a second, then looks at me with her version of loving eyes. “Brilliant mi vida, as always.”

And off we went.

Non, Je ne regrette rien - Edith Piaf | Wednesday Soundtrack | Wednesday drops piranhas in the pool

We had stepped through the doors of the practice room as I heard the jocks mutter to themselves,

“ Yo Dalton look, pigsleys sister and her weird ass friend. Hey, freaks! This is a closed practice!”

Wednesday leveled them with her usual murderous stare as she spoke,” The only person that gets to torture my brother is me.”

Nothing delighted me more than the fear on everyone's faces as she dropped the bag of piranhas into the pool, blood seeping into the normally crystal-blue chlorine-filled water. And that is how we landed ourselves here. In the Addams family car with Wednesday's parents, Morticia and Gomez. They were singing In Dreams as they doted on one another, Wednesday was brooding next to me. Unsatisfied with being shipped away to her parents' former school. “Darling, how long do you intend on giving us the cold shoulder?” Morticia spoke as Gomez continued to kiss her arm and neck.

“Lurch, please remind my parents that I’m no longer speaking to them,” Wednesday replies, making me grin. I love it when she's like this, all petulant and ruffled, most of the time it means I’ll get to play around while she's busy thinking and sulking. Her mother hums as her father tries to persuade his daughter,” I promise you, my little viper, you will love Nevermore. Won’t she, Tish?” “Of course. It’s the perfect school for her. For them both really.” This irks Wednesday as she replies, “ Why? Because it was the perfect school for you? I have no interest in following in your footsteps. Becoming captain of the fencing team, Queen of the dark prom, president of the seance society.” Morticia looks at Wednesday with a serene face, always ever so calm and poised. “I merely meant that finally, you will be among peers who understand you. Maybe you’ll even make some friends.” Gomez looks at Wednesday with his signature grin,” Nevermore is like no other boarding school. It’s a magical place. It’s where I met your mother.” “and we fell in love.” They look at each other with this mutually infatuated gaze and sigh. Wednesday's eyes darken, if that's possible,” You guys are making me nauseous. And not in a good way.” They looked at her again” Darling, we aren’t the ones who got you expelled. That boy’s family was going to file attempted murder charges. How would that have looked on your record?” Wednesday looked off as her eyes widened slightly,” terrible. Everyone would know I failed to get the job done.” At that I couldn't keep it in, I chuckled as the little family smirked at me. Save for Wednesday of course who was still very occupied with her brooding.

My my, this was going to be a fun new adventure. I can feel it.

As we drove through the strong… iron… gates of this new school, morticia made mention od the weather. An admirable attempt at small talk through the thick silence, normally i would be the one to break it but wednesday specifically told me to give her parents the cold shoulder. If I’m being honest i dont entirely understand why but she looked so cutr and annoyed when she asked in her own way. How did she word it again? Oh yes, i was to be silent or else she would lock me in a tower and take all my jewelry. And my tongue.

3rd POV

Finally the small family unit had made it to the principals office, greeted by Larissa weems.

“Wednesday is certainly a unique name, i'm guessing it was the day you were born?” she spoke with a grin, after everyone had taken their appropriate seat. Save of course for endeara, she preferred to stand. Tall in her red bottom pumps and silk blouse, she had taken her place behind wednesday, gazing at her new principle with a veiled look of boredom and small smile.

“I was born on friday the 13th.” wednesday quickly rectified, as morticia followed, “Her name comes from a line from my favorite nursery rhyme, Wednesdays child is full of woe.”

“You always had a unique perspective on the world morticia, did your mother tell you we used to be roomates?” Principle weems said fondly, her welcoming facade staying strong through the addam’s penetrating gazes.

“And you graduated with your sanity intact? Impressive.” wednesday spoke again. The topic quickly changed as the principle spoke of her and endearas “interesting educational journey.”

“Eight schools in five years?” Weems questioned,” They havent built one strong enough to hold us. I’m sure this one wont be any different.” wednesday replied with her same bluntness. Endeara simply smiled as her parents bristled and were about to reply,” Thats just wednesdays way of trying to say she is very excited for this new opportunity. As am i, and thank you for giving us such a gift.” their new principle seemed to fully take in endeara then, all elegance and playful smiles as she dressed in her small red bottomed pumps and silk black blouse.

“Nevermore doesn’t usually accept students mid-term, but given their perfect grades and your family’s long history with the school, I’ve spoken with the board and we’ve made an exception.” Weems said simply as the addams parents joined hands in satisfaction, “what about their um,... therapy sessions? The court ordered them.” morticia eyed her daughter as she spoke, hesitant to ask. “The school school has a relationship with a therapist in jericho, she can meet twice a week.” they all looked to wednesday as gomez spoke,” did you hear that my little storm cloud? Youre in excellent hands.”

“We’ll see if she survives the first session” wednesday quipped back, her gaze unwavering to the woman in front of her as mortica and endeara grinned at her as well.

The principle resumed again, unbothered. Truly impressing endeara as she spoke again,” ive assigned wednesday to her mothers old dorm. Ophelia hall.” morticia gasps and chuckles excitedly as wednesday turns to her and says,” refresh my memory. Ophelia’s the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?” morticia nods happily as the principle leans forward with a plastered grin

“Shall we go meet your new roommate?’

Endearas POV

We go to wednesdays new dorm and its… something. The family is stunned as morticia speaks,” its so… vivid.” The girl, the new roommate, looks at me and gasps excitedly “Howdy roomie!” and i have to bite my lips from cackling. I mean this is just beautiful, but our principle steals all the fun and introduces wednesday. “wednesday , this is enid sinclair.” Enid looks to from me to wednesday confused, maybe even disappointed, as she asks,” are you okay? You look a little pale.” and mortica smiles as she explains,”wednesday always looks half dead.” “its genetic” i whisper, smiling at the girl. Enid goes in for a hug from wednesday as we both step back, she looks disheartened as she mumbles,” not a hugger. Got it.” morticia pipes up again,”please excuse wednesday. She’s allergic to color.” enid looks shocked,” oh wow. What happens to you?”

“I break out in hives and then the flesh peels from my bones.” this is when our principle speaks again,” luckily weve special ordered your and endears new uniforms. Enid, please take them to the registrar’s office to pick it up along with her schedule, and give them a tour along the way.”

I whisper quietly to Wednesday, ”If they dare put me in cheap, scratchy, suffocating material…i will raze this school to the ground.” Wednesday almost smirks as the Addams look at me in pride and the other two look at me in horror. This tour better be good.

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fukae-flwr · 1 month

Text

Stained Hearts & Dark Desires:

Chapter 3 Gibes and Jests

Summary: Ominis works through his emotions over Edith. He can't forgive her yet but can't bring himself to hate her. It's hard to work through

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: angst, conflicted feelings,

Rating: MATURE 18+!!! (NO MINORS)

Chapter: 4

“Was there anything else Penny can get you, Mr.Gaunt?” Penny's cheery voice questioned. Ominis had just finished examining the room he was to call home for now. His wand could make out enough to tell this place was much bigger than he had been expecting. It was just a lovely and cozy home. The dark wood structures matched with elegant patterns gave the room a pleasant feeling. He did notice though how empty it felt. This room was physically filled with everything necessary for a guest room, yet lacked any life or presence. This room wasn’t used often.

“That’ll be all, Penny. Thank you.” Ominis shook his head. He hadn’t expected Edith to have an elf, much less be so relaxed by her company. He heard the way her voice softened drastically once Penny arrived. Even the soft breath she had released while talking to Penny was a sure sign to him of how comfortable she felt in Penny’s presence. Almost a complete contrast to how she interacted with him or Sebastian. A small part of him envied the elf, a small enough part that he could ignore.

“Well then, Penny wishes you a goodnight, Mr.Gaunt.” The elf concluded as she began to close the door.

“Goodnight to you too, Penny.” Ominis smiled softly. With the door closed, Ominis sat in his current bed and let the events of the day start to wash over him.

They found her. They actually found her. She was alive and breathing. He felt…relieved yet conflicted. She had been lying to everyone except Anne from the looks of things. She was the masked wizard they hunted for so long partially because they were fooled to believe the masked wizard had killed her. That wasn’t even including the emotions that began to rise as a result of everything that happened back in their 7th year. The swirling of powerful emotions was overwhelming. He felt happy she was alive, angry for everything she had done, betrayed for the disappearance, and among so many others. At this rate, he was going to implode in on himself.

Thankfully there was a welcomed distraction from his thoughts at his door. Walking over to the door, he found his partner standing before him. His own personal breath of relief, most of the time.

“Hey. Did you get everything you need?” Sebastian asked, stepping into the room immediately. Ominis just chuckled to himself as he just waltzed right in.

“Hello, Sebastian. Yes, please come in.”

“Great thanks.”

Ominis closed the door behind him and moved further into the room. It wasn’t a very large room, but these townhomes rarely had very spacious rooms. A single bed with a metal frame stood against the wall to the left side of the room. Right across was the wooden dresser a good distance away from the small fireplace with a fireguard. It was a cozy small room, perfect for guests.

Sebastian sat on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. Ominis could practically hear his raging mind working double time.

“I did have Penny retrieve a few of my things. Though, I didn’t want to overwork the elf, so we will need to stop by the house tomorrow.” Sebastian barely acknowledged that Ominis had said anything.

“I dread ever asking, but care to share your thoughts with me?” Ominis tried to make light of the tense atmosphere but went over Sebastian’s head.

“I hate her.”

“Do you?”

“...Yes.”

“Well, that is a perfectly reasonable response, given everything.” Ominis moved to sit next to him. He wasn’t super big on being physical with anyone on normal occasions, but he tried in his own ways with Sebastian. Sitting close enough for his shoulders and legs to come in contact with Sebastian’s was enough for now. It was what he could offer right now, and Sebastian knew that. From years of being together, Sebastian was familiar with Ominis’s small gestures of warmth.

“What about you, Ominis?”

“Do I hate her?”

“Yes.”

Ominis sat for a moment to think. Did he hate her? He was undoubtedly very angry with her, and his trust was broken for sure, but hate? He hated his family but had never really hated anyone before, aside from Hobhouse. He compared his emotions towards his family to Edith, and it was falling short.

“No. I don’t hate her.” Ominis sighed. If how he felt towards his family was directed at Edith, it lost its ire. He held no hate for her, but he was hurt by her. It was that pain she caused that made him mad and upset with her but not loathe her. He doubted he could hate her, even after everything. It was similar to how he felt about Sebastian all those years ago, after Solomon. He couldn't bring himself to hate Sebastian but couldn’t forgive him at that time either.

“Really?! After everything she’s done?” Sebastian questioned in disbelief.

“As if you have any room to speak. People do terrible things sometimes.” Ominis heard Sebastian slump in on himself.

“You don’t have to forgive her. I certainly haven’t. But we do need to work with her to find Anne.” Ominis comforted his partner. The heavy sigh Sebastian allowed to escape confirmed to Ominis how much his words helped him.

“You’re right.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re modesty is very becoming.”

“Please, modesty is for those unaware of their worth. I’m fully aware of my worth.” Ominis tsked confidently as he rose from the bed. It was uplifting to finally hear Sebastian laugh today. With how tense everything was currently, he was glad he could still get a chuckle from him.

“Perhaps along the way we can get the answers we’ve been looking for,” Ominis mentioned softly as he began to remove his coat, and vest for the night.

Sebastian didn’t respond to that, only joining him in getting comfortable as well.

~ * ~

Ominis learned two things in the night. One, the walls of this townhome were unbelievably thin. Ominis had amazing hearing, and if the walls had been thicker, things wouldn’t have sounded as clear as they did last night. Most times he could hear through walls to a degree. Often coming off much more muffled and disoriented but could still make out little things. These walls hardly did any of that. It was like he was present in the other room. Which led to the second thing he learned that night. Edith didn’t sleep.

She had her bath earlier in the evening, something abundantly clear thanks to the sounds of water he heard. He did his best to block out the sounds, feeling it was inappropriate of him to hear the water of her bath splashing around. He was a gentleman after all, and despite her transgressions, she was still an attractive young woman. After her bath, she paced around her room, constantly. He couldn’t quite make out what she was saying with how quietly she spoke but she was muttering a lot. Then at some point, she decided to rush upstairs to the third floor and move around in the room above. She was light-footed, but not enough to be silent. All night she was up there moving about, doing who knew what.

Ominis wasn’t sure what room she was in or what it was for. The two of them hadn’t been given a tour of the house yet. Penny assured them that Edith would do it today. They were only taken to their temporary rooms, though Sebastian quickly abandoned his room for Ominis’s. Not something he was complaining about, but just noted how quickly that idea went out the window.

After forcing himself to ignore her movements upstairs, Ominis could fall asleep, though not into a deep slumber. He was always acutely aware of where she was upstairs. She often moved between the two rooms upstairs, but nothing else that was noticeable. Now with the sun having risen, the light poking through the lace curtains, Ominis stretched out in bed. Sebastian started to stir awake from his movements, yawning and stretching as well.

“Did she ever go back to her room?” Sebastian slurred, half awake. Ominis wasn’t surprised he heard her as well. It wasn’t like she was trying to hide her footsteps. Sebastian may have slept better than Ominis but he wasn’t a deep sleeper when in unfamiliar places such as Edith’s home.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, let's get up and get that tour then?” Sebastian threw the covers off and rose from the bed. Ominis couldn’t agree more. The sooner they could explore the house, the closer they’d be to finding possible answers. After getting dressed, both of the men walked down the stairs and to the kitchen. Using his wand, Ominis could get a vague image of the kitchen area.

It was a decently sized kitchen with a dark-colored metal stove. It was small enough for his wand to capture a good sense of everything around without him having to move much. Yet it was spacious enough to not give the sense it was crowded. The kitchen had a wooden island with all the kitchen items needed for prepping meals. Ominis could even make out what appeared to be an elf-sized step stool pushed up against the island. On said step stool, they found Penny, cleaning up the kitchen and using magic to prepare breakfast. She practically hummed in the kitchen with contentment. It was nice to know she was being treated kindly for her to be this happy with her life.

“Oh Good morning, gentlemen!” Penny greeted warmly. Ominis could hear the smile in her voice, “Penny is preparing breakfast now. Should be ready any moment, if you’d like to wait in the dining room.” She hopped off the step stool to throw whatever food she was prepping into the pan on the stove.

“Do you need any help?” Sebastian offered. Ominis knew Sebastian enjoyed cooking up meals. At their house, Sebastian was the chef between the two of them and his meals were quite delicious.

“Oh! Penny appreciates the offer! Thank you, Mr.Sallow!”

“Sebastian is fine.”

“Thank you, Mr.Sebastian!” Penny began to instruct Sebastian on what to do, while she prepared a separate tray.

“Is that for Edith?” Ominis pondered, wondering where she was. Had she still been in that room? He didn’t hear her ever leave nor come down from the third floor.

“Oh yes! Miss Edith often forgets meals, especially when she is busy with her research. So it’s Penny’s job to make sure Miss Edith doesn’t fall sick!” Penny spoke so casually as she snapped her fingers. Ominis could hear as the tray began to hover off the counter. He furrowed his brows at that. Research? What kind of research was she conducting so vehemently for her to continually neglect meals?

“What does she research?” Sebastian asked so casually, not missing a beat.

“Miss Edith explained it to Penny once. It was very complicated, but Penny remembers it involved a spell and…” Penny inhaled suddenly, stopping mid-sentence. Ominis turned, wondering if a silencing charm had been cast. He hadn’t heard any spell being performed but the elf had suddenly stopped and he wasn’t sure why.

“A..Are you holding your breath?” Sebastian inquired. Was she holding her breath? Ominis moved closer to see if his wand could pick up her image. The image was unique, to say the least, and much more vague than the nonliving things it depicted. His wand was much more suited for depicting structures and the environment around him rather than other people. The image he was able to barely see was a tiny elf holding both her hands to her mouth wide-eyed.

“Are…are you alright?”

“Oh yes! Penny just says things that shouldn’t be repeated. Miss Edith never gets angry but Penny knows she should practice learning when to stop talking!” Penny finally released her breath. So talking about Edith’s research was something that was not meant for others’ ears. Interesting.

“Well, Penny must bring Miss Edith’s breakfast now!” Penny quickly exited the kitchen bringing a tray. Ominis could barely call what was on it, breakfast. A pot of coffee with creamer and sugar and some toast. Not exactly a filling meal. He doubted it was something the elf had decided upon. Penny seemed like she would’ve been the one to overachieve what Edith wanted.

“So research on magic, for a spell…” Sebastian pondered aloud as he stirred whatever was in the pan.

“Any ideas?”

“Well, it's not like it's unheard of, for those who work in the ministry, that is. I even considered going to a similar field once this business with being an aurora is over.” Sebastian tapped the wooden spoon on the pan before moving the pan onto the counter. It was a discussion they had before. What they planned to do once they finished being auroras. Sebastian was leaning more toward studying magic scriptures, a job in the ministry involving his favorite thing, reading. Ominis, on the other hand, was more geared towards something a little less life-threatening than their current job as well. Perhaps he’d become a professor at Hogwarts; he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do as of yet, but being aurora was not a lifetime thing. There had been only one reason they ever became auroras in the first place, and she was currently upstairs where they could easily find her.

“Dark wizards studying magic is rarely a good thing,” Ominis pointed out. For most dark wizards it was rarely a good thing, Ominis wasn’t quite sure about Edith yet. He just stood about the kitchen, thinking about what Edith could be working on as soft footsteps gave away the elf’s return. Sebastian had helped himself to the eggs and potatoes Penny had started. He even made a plate for Ominis as well.

“Miss Edith informed Penny that she would be down momentarily to give you the tour of the house.” Penny reported to them, “Penny also has another pot of coffee or tea if you’d like. Penny wasn’t sure which the gentlemen wanted so Penny made both!” Penny shuffled over to the stove, snapping her fingers to get the smaller pots to follow her. She moved over towards the dining room attached to the kitchen.

The dining room was just as roomy if not a tad smaller than the kitchen. In the center was her wooden round table, neatly set for guest use. The pots floated over to the table, and Sebastian placed the plates down in front of the seats. Ominis sat next to Sebastian as they ate their food.

“Does Edith get the Daily Prophet sent here?” Ominis questioned while he ate the eggs and potatoes graciously prepared for him by Sebastian and Penny.

“Oh, she does! Edith typically takes it up to the study. Penny remembers Miss Edith always enjoyed reading about the Ministry’s Duo. She even asks if Penny saw anything about them in the paper when Penny fetches it for her.”

Ominis couldn't help his smirk forming over the rim of his cup and heard the soft chuckle from Sebastian. How very interesting. Ominis perked a little as he heard the oh-so-subtle sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Did she ever comment on the Ministry’s Duo?” Sebastian inquired curiously.

“Only how amusing it would be to watch the fools chase after the Masked Wizard,” Edith answered pointedly before the elf could say anything. Finally, she had come down from her hiding hole. Ominis could hear her move out from behind him, over to the opposite side of the table. The furthest spot from the both of them.

“And yet those very same fools caught you in the end. How amusing,” Sebastian taunted as he sat back in his chair.

“Tch. Luck is all it is.”

“Perhaps I should try my hand at the lottery then.” Ominis thought out loud.

“If you two are done, I’ll show you around the house now. I have things needing to be done today.” Edith crossed her arms impatiently. Ominis slowly placed his cup down and folded his hands in his lap, turning in her direction.

“What lovely errands do you have planned for us today, Ms.Winterald? I, for one, would like to stop by my house to grab a few more of my belongings.” Ominis remarked casually. Anything they did now involved each other, or at least one of them being with Edith. They might as well get comfortable with it starting now.

“Well since stopping by your house is not urgent, that’ll be something we do last.”

“You might as well just tell us what you’re doing today. We’ll find out eventually.” Sebastian tried to coerce Edith into telling them right now. Didn’t seem like it was working with how she immediately responded, feigning kindness with an overly sweet voice.

“Well, I guess you’ll just find out eventually.” And with that turned on her heels. Seemed like breakfast was forcefully brought to an end. Ominis just sighed as he picked up his wand and followed behind. Sebastian grumbled as he joined.

“You already saw the kitchen and dining room. The parlor is off to the side here.” She marched off toward the parlor. It was to the side of the stairs, diagonal to the kitchen. It was an average terrace living room. A darkened fireplace at the center of the furthest wall, and furniture placed around the coffee table that centered the room. A small alcove against the window, that allowed for natural light to filter into the room. A couple of shelves with books on them. Nothing much. Ominis noticed the only thing that seemed used was a fraying blanket loosely hanging off the loveseat closest to the fireplace.

“And then of course the bedrooms on the first level,” Edith continued her guided tour up the stairs. She showed them their bathroom, the smallest room they had seen in this house.

“Merlin’s beard, how does anyone fit in here?” Sebastian gawked. He was much more familiar with the hamlets near Hogwarts. They could afford to have much more space out there than homes in the cities. Though Ominis recalled never having a bathroom quite this small in his life. If he was at Gaunt’s Manor, the restrooms were about three times as big due to their wealth. It was just barely large enough for the white clawfoot tub at the very end, the toilet right next to it, and then the wooden vanity with the hand bowl on top of it next to the door.

“Considering I’m one person, easily.” Edith retorted. Closing the door, she began to tread up the stairs once more.

“Not gonna show off your room?” Sebastian quipped as they passed by her bed chambers she didn’t use last night.

“My my my. Who knew you’d grow to be quite the debauchee, Sebastian?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sebastian hissed back, clearly irritated by her insinuation. Ominis selectively chose to keep how truthful her statement was, to a degree. Their private affairs weren’t any of her business for now.

“Hmm no thanks. My bed chambers are for an invited company only. And you're not invited.”

“Ah, so nightcaps,” Sebastian commented. Ominis couldn’t fight the grin on his face as he heard her heart lurch, and a sound similar to choking on air escaped her. She even nearly tripped over one step. Thankfully, his assistance to catch her was not needed, but he was ready nonetheless.

“That is none of your business!”

“Right.”

Edith just stomped up the rest of the stairs more feverishly. Moving his wand about, there wasn’t much to the third floor, just the two main rooms along the wall on the opposite side of the stairtop. She held open the door closest to the small window at the far end of the hallway, completely ignoring the first door.

“And finally this is the study. Everything pertaining to Anne is here.” Edith gestured towards the room. Upon entry, Ominis felt himself cringe at how utterly chaotic it was. The small room was filled with books and loose pieces of paper scattered about. It was spacious for how occupied it was currently with three grown adults standing amidst a librarian’s hell.

Ominis noticed quite a few clippings from the daily prophet regarding dark wizard activities, letters with Anne’s signature favorite wax seal, and other letters from others he didn’t immediately recognize. As the images of the room appeared in his mind, he slowly moved about, trying to avoid stepping on anything. It was proving to be almost as difficult as Sebastian’s study back home, or any room he claimed.

“And you thought I was messy, Ominis.” Sebastian broke the silence as he knelt on the ground behind him. He picked up a few letters closest to him, beginning to examine them. Ominis couldn’t tell what it was but knew they’d have plenty of time to examine every single piece of information offered to them.

“I stand by that statement. Edith must’ve picked up your nasty habits from years back.” He mused as he made his way to the desk covered in news clippings from the Daily Prophet. Holding his wand out front, he got a better image depicting how each clipping involved either him, Sebastian, or both of them. On the wall behind the desk were more clippings, not of just them, but other dark wizards as well. There was enough about the Ministry’s golden duo though to catch his attention. Penny’s words replayed in his mind. So the elf was speaking the truth, not that he ever doubted her.

“I like to think..”

“I seriously doubt that.” Ominis quipped absentmindedly.

“...of it as chaotically organized.” Sebastian finished pointedly.

“Call it whatever you'd like, it's still a mess.”

Ominis heard Edith step away to pick up a letter from the floor, attempting to hide her amusement. She thought she let out a small breathy chuckle quiet enough that they wouldn’t hear. She was wrong. It had been so long since the last time he heard her laugh. An annoyingly loud part of him wanted to hear it again, maybe get close enough to get a glimpse of that smile he had missed. He fought that part of him, reminding himself of all she had done. He couldn’t forgive her nor allow his guard to fall completely around her.

“You two haven’t changed,” Edith cleared her throat, attempting to regain her composure, “Still fighting like an old married couple per usual.” She couldn’t have been further from the truth. At this point, they were practically a married couple, without all the paperwork and so forth. They lived together, worked together, and spent almost every waking moment together. He was very happy with his life, but it wasn’t perfect. He knew what it was missing but refused to acknowledge it right now.

“I'm beginning to see a pattern with these over here. A fan, I take it?” Ominis already knew that answer thanks to Penny. Yet he found himself teasing her gently about it. He turned to her direction as the telltale sound of arms crossing flooded his ears.

“Hilarious. As I said before, I find it entertaining to watch the fools who think they could catch the Masked Wizard run around like a pack of frightened diricawls.” She spoke with a grin and condescension, clearly returning his tease. Her steps moved towards him, closer and closer, till he could feel her presence brush past him. A sensual chill ran down his spine. The wooden desk creaked as she leaned up against it to the right of him. She was very close yet still far enough to not be anywhere near brushing her arms against his.

His wand allowed him to see the folded paper she picked up and held towards him. It was a more recent print of the Daily Prophet with a bold headline reading “Ministry’s Deadly Duo”. Ominis wasn’t too much of a fan of their alleged fame in the paper. It seemed every success of theirs, as well as the occasional failures, were published for all of the wizarding world.

“The papers just can’t seem to get enough of you two. Makes staying two steps ahead quite easy.” She made no effort to hide her supercilious tone as she softly waved the paper, emphasizing her point. Another reason to hate their names in the paper as often as they were.

“And yet we still managed to catch you, didn’t we?” Sebastian derided as he rose from the ground and stalked over to Edith. Ominis stood by, delighted as the scene unfolded before him. Something about the slight back and forth between them was entertaining, despite everything else.

He watched as the paper was moved over to where the assumed Sebastian figure stood, preventing him from getting any closer to Edith. She was still very much caged between him, and the desk yet she used the paper to keep him at bay. He recalled the way she practically lept away from him last night at the base of the stairs. He heard how her heart pounded and startled so easily. Was it the physical proximity?

“Please. If my attention hadn’t been so divided due to Anne’s disappearance, you would’ve never caught me off guard. Even back then, you couldn’t beat me in a duel in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.” She feigned confidence but her voice had a slight tremor that gave away her nervousness. It piqued Ominis’s interest in how nervous she was getting.

“Sebastian, perhaps, but I recall you having quite a difficult time against me, Edith,” Ominis reminded as he stepped closer to tower over her. He intentionally spoke with a softer voice on the off chance it might lead to something interesting. And his efforts were not in vain. He heard how rapidly her heart began to pound as he moved closer. His lowered voice just topped it all off.

“R..right…Well, I’ve improved my skills since Hogwarts.” Edith stammered momentarily as she quickly freed herself from the trapped corner she found herself in. She had moved over towards the door, putting distance between them. As much as he enjoyed how nervous she got around them, it probably was for the best. There was still much to discuss and heal from.

“As have I” Sebastian countered, taking the very same spot she had against the desk, by Ominis’s side.

“We shall see.” The way she spoke wasn’t malicious or coy. It was like she was far away, emotionally and mentally. As if she didn’t intend to find out how much they had grown since Hogwarts, similar to how she spoke that day back in their seventh year. She was far more melancholy then; now she was just devoided of emotions.

“I noticed you two seem to be sharing a room. Is something the matter with your room, Sebastian?” Edith swiftly changed the subject, what little jests they had gotten from her, were gone.

“Not particularly. Ominis and I share a room. It is of no use to me.” Sebastian informed so casually. As if two men sharing a room was a common occurrence. Ominis had no shame in his love for Sebastian, even still he felt his face flush ever so slightly with Sebastrian’s boldness.

“...I guess I can conjure another bed then?” Edith bemused. A reasonable reaction to what was just stated, though it didn’t stop Ominis’s cheeks from redding at Sebastian's immediate response.

“By all means but chances are I’ll just end up in bed with Ominis.”

“Sebastian! For Merlin’s sake do you have no decency?!” Ominis sighed, dropping the papers he had to cover his burning face. He loved the moron, he did, but he was doomed to be the death of him.

Edith remained quiet for a long time. It began to make his skin itch. Was she one of those people unaccepting of a man loving another man? He’d hate for this to be where their so-called friendship officially ends.

“You two are…courting?” Edith questioned. Ominis couldn’t quite make out the tone of her voice. It wasn’t disgusted as he feared it would be, but wasn’t exactly all accepting either. He couldn’t recognize exactly what she was feeling from her inquiry.

“Yea. Problem?” Sebastian had lost all the warmth in his voice and was back to his sharp tone. He was always quick to the defense when it came to the two of them. Ominis appreciated it most of the time, but he doubted this was one of those times when it was necessary. The Edith he remembered never cared about such things. He hoped that remained true.

“No. Just surprised is all.” Edith stated. She still sounded surprised by the revelation she just received, which was better than immediate ignorance and disgust. From what he could recall, Edith didn’t judge one by who they loved. She was a very accepting person. It was refreshing to know that remained true. Though her silence was off-putting once more. Clearing she was lost in her mind.

“I’m glad to see you two worked out your issues in my absence. I feared you’d stopped talking to each other just like 6th year all over again,” Edith sighed. Ominis remained silent. It was true without her, he probably wouldn’t have talked to Sebastian as quickly as he did. Her hand was forced for a while. She had been doing the best she could to divide what little free time she had between the two of them, practically running back and forth. She always made sure to mention how Sebastian was doing, despite him never asking. When word got out that Anne was coming back to Hogwarts, she started spending more time with Sebastian. She began to mention him more often to Ominis. He wanted to forgive him and knew eventually he would. The more he heard of him from Edith, the more he felt he needed to talk to Sebastian. Not completely forgive, but allow him to be present in his life once more.

Her disappearance in their seventh year, however, did almost break them. As ridiculous as it was, part of Ominis thought perhaps something had happened with Sebastian that had finally driven her away. Something he might’ve said or done leaving her to run away just as the school year was almost over. He blamed Sebastian for a short while, and they fought.

“Well, he stayed around so we could work through it. Didn’t take off.” Sebastian commented pointedly. Ominis could feel the room freeze over. He heard Edith's breath momentarily pause. Leave it to Sebastian to immediately point out the obvious. He wasn’t wrong, and yet Ominis felt the need to meditate ever so slightly.

“Sebastian..” Ominis warned darkly, but Edith cut him off. Her tone was empty and cold. The way she spoke was oddly familiar in a way. A way he would speak back when he was living in the Gaunt Manor. Guarded and distant so nothing could hurt him. It was a tone that gave off the feeling that nothing mattered to her. His purposely hurtful words appeared to not have hurt her, but he knew they did.

“It’s alright, Ominis. He’s not wrong.” Edith spoke so lightly as if it was amusing to her.

“Choose whoever you’d like to seek companionship in, the only thing that matters is finding Anne.” Her words returned with just as much spite and ire as Sebastian’s had. It was clear to him nothing did matter to her, nothing involving them two at least. She had her walls built and guard up.

He listened as her heels turned on the wood and moved towards the door. Ominis wasn’t sure why he began to call her name or what he would even say to her, but she quickly ended that for him by interrupting him.

“If you need anything else, Penny will assist you. I’ll be in my room.” And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

~ ♡ ~

( •̀ヮ•́) I've been so motivated to write these, like I already have the next 2 done, im just editing the fuck out of them.

Also.....HEADCANONS

Idk where the fuck i read an Ominis fic where he had like super human hearing, but I did and it has been my hc ever since soooo there you go.

Next his wand! ಠᗜಠ

my hc is that the wand can project structures and things WAY better than people. Like walls, desks, papers, couches, etc, so he doesn't trip and can move around and read well. His wand deems it more important than "seeing" people. He can get glimpses of people, but they are like super blurry unless his wand is like almost directly in front of someone's face. Colors are muted too, more so on people.

Remember, this is all for fun, so be kind. Im doing my best to keep them in character and keep it interesting. This is an Ominis x Sebastian x Mc story, and Im trying to keep it slow burn, but im rusty at fanfics, so sorry.

ANYWAYS THANKS AND LOVE YALL!!! ♡♡♡♡

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