#i made molly a little harsh but i started writing it before i saw her actually take care of someone

[somniadelapsis]

The dangers of  flying on pokemon

 Warnings: blood, injury, vomiting

Fandom: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Molly, the rest is barely there

The Explorers had found them. Again. Friede needed to figure out how they keep doing it. It’s becoming a problem. This time it wasn’t Amethio’s team. Friede was curious about the reason. Unfortunately he didn’t have much time to think. They attacked them soon after they were noticed. He and Charizard tried to chase them away but a woman had managed to land. Captain engaged her Lycanroc. Liko’s Sprigatito would be a better type match but he doubted that her Leafage however strong it was would be enough to beat that opponent. His Charizard was a good match for the other Explorer’s Skarmory. Technically. His opponent was also riding his Pokémon so Friede didn't really want to hit him. This left him with the option of ordering ranged attacks. He on the other hand was very adamant in trying to hit Friede. The rest of the team was making sure that everything was alright with the ship and the pokemon. In conclusion he was in quite a tight spot.

The kids tried to help. The cover provided by leafage did help quite a lot but he didn't want to endanger since these explorers seemed to have nothing against hitting trainers.

"Get inside! I got it!" He really hoped he did got it. The kids looked hesitant but listened when Charizard launched a powerful flamethrower. 

"Rock throw!" Shouted Lycanroc's trainer.

Friede looked over to Captain and shouted.

 "Thunder-" 

Rocks flied in his direction. Pikachu wasn't the target. Charizard batted his wings and twisted midair. Friede shifted with him. Charizard cried out in pain. Something hit Fiede’s head. He lost his grip on Charizard's wing. Then he was falling. Charizard flung his tail and hit Friede. Succeeded in flinging him onto the deck. And knocking the breath out of him. He rolled around a few times, stopped at his hands and knees. His head was ringing, his ribs hurt. He didn't have time for this. He got up to his feet. Swayed. He touched his head. His fingers came away wet. He looked. Red. 

"Pi pika chu!" Captain called alarmed.

Charizard roared in reply.

"I'm fine, buddy." He assured. 

Charizard's tail sported a brilliant flame. He was angry. His roar shook the ship. He attacked. He wouldn't listen to Friede when he raged like that. He hoped the sky borne explorer had enough self preservation to flee. He focused on the Lycanroc. 

"Double team." He ordered.

Pikachu gave him a last worried glance and followed the command. 

"Cranch!"

He easily evaded the attack

“Thunder Punch!” The hit sent Lycanroc back.

“Get up!” The woman shouted. “Rock throw!”

Pikachu dodged gracefully. Friede had to not so gracefully skirt to the side. He cringed at the noise the rocks made when they hit the ship. Did the Explorers have to be so adamant about damaging the ship?

“Double team!”

“This is getting boring! Tackle!” She shouted.

“We’re gonna see about that.” Friede muttered. “Volt tackle!”

The Lycanroc did not get up after that attack. “No!” The woman cried out. She send Friede a glare while she called back her Pokemon. Looked around to search for her partner. He was nowhere to be seen.

“This is not the end.” She hissed and called her own Skarmory. Friede observed as she headed away.

“Good job, cap!” He crouched to give him a fist bump.

“Pika” He said as if to ask if he was expecting any other outcome. “Pika pi?” Worry sounded in his voice. His ears and tail dropped

“I’m fine. Really.” He added after Cap gave him a doubtful look.

“Should have Molly check it out either way.” The pokemon nodded at that. They walked back inside. 

"Friede!" Liko and Roy shouted.

"Everything's taken care of." He grinned.

Roy's smile fell. "Is that blood?"

"Oh." He went to touch his wound again but decided that it wouldn't do it any good. "Yeah, got a bit beaten-up but you don't have to wo-" he didn't finish because Liko chose this moment to faint. Sprigatito called out in alarm. He lunged to catch her. His balance wasn't the best at the moment so he ended up half falling half sitting on the floor with Liko against his chest. Roy stood frozen, hands outstretched not sure if he should touch her or not.

And that's how Molly and Murdock found them.

"Oh, here you all are!" Murdock stopped in his tracks.

"Help!" Friede called in panic.

"What happened?" Molly rushed to them 

"Liko fainted when she saw the blood." He explained. They all looked at him. 

"You're bleeding!" Murdock cried out.

"Ah, yeah, got hit while fighting." He said still looking at Liko. 

"Did she hit anything while falling?" Molly asked.

She tapped Liko's cheek. Her eyelids fluttered and she murmured something.

"No, I caught her." 

He had to look at Molly when she put a hand on his chin and twisted his head.

"Hey!" She assessed his wound. "Liko-"

"Will be fine." She sighed. "You on the other hand." She frowned. "Murdock can you get Liko to the infirmary? Can you stand?" She directed the latter part at Friede.

"Yeah."

Murdock lifted Liko like she didn't weight anything. Molly pulled Friede to his feet. He was steady but his hand hovered close to the wall. They headed to the infirmary.

"Should Liko really be in the infirmary?" Murdock asked.

"I think she fainted on the sight of blood." Friede reminded.

"Then I will carry her to her room. Do you want to wait with me until she wakes up, Roy?" The boy was trailing silently after them until now.

"Y-yeah."

"Then come on."

They split up. 

Friede sat on the cot. His hair and one side of his face was stained red. 

"Molly-" he started.

She grabbed his chin and titled his head to get a better look. Gently this time. Her hand shook lightly.

"Calm down. I'm fine." He assured.

"I am calm." She shot. "Are you dizzy or nauseous?"

He opened his mouth.

"Don't act tough. This can be serious." She said. 

"I was a bit dizzy earlier." He admitted.

"And now?"

"Not dizzy but" He played with the edge of his jacket. "Kinda unsteady?" He wasn't sure himself how to put it. Fortunately Molly was satisfied with the answer. She started to gather things from various cabinets and shelves.

"Did you lose consciousness?"

"I don't think so. Maybe for a few seconds?"

"You did or you didn't?" She looked him in the eye. 

"I-" He swallowed. "My vision kinda flickered out for a moment but I was aware of the rest of things." He shrugged "If that makes sense."

She nodded. She wet a cloth in a bowl and started to wipe the blood. Then she stopped.

"Are your goggles whole?"

He raised his hand to his forehead. They weren’t here. He frowned. Then he relaxed his face since it was probably making Molly's work harder.

"Don’t know. Must have dropped them somewhere." 

Molly didn’t miss that he seemed to only now realize that. She clicked her tongue. He gave her a questioning look. "I have to check out if any glass got stuck in your skin." He hadn't thought about it. Even if there was he wouldn't felt it with the sharper pain of the wound. And the headache that had started to pulse with his heartbeat. 

"My head hurts."

"I would be surprised if it wasn't." She jibed. She pulled on his skin a bit and squinted. "Does it hurt much?" He wanted to answer but she cut him out. "From a scale from 1 to 10. One being it's noticeable but not bothering you. Ten being unbearable." She rinsed the cloth and got back to cleaning the wound.

"Uh, six?" 

She set her lips.

"I will give you some painkillers when I finish with it."

"Thanks."

She put the cloth down. Titled his head a bit.

"There was no glass and you won't need stitches."

"That's a relief. Can't ruin my pretty face." He tried to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

Molly reached for a bottle and wet some gauze with its contents. "This will sting."

"Mhm."

He still hissed when she touched the cut.

"Don't be a baby."

"I'm not." He pouted. She opened a box of band aids and started to look for the right size.

"How did you get hurt?" She asked.

"I got hit when Charizard couldn't dodge all the rocks thrown at us."

She had a feeling that he left something important off.

"Were you flying on him?"

He squirmed. "Yeah." It did not bode well.

"Did you fall?"

He looked at the floor. "Yeah." 

She expected that but still her blood run cold.

"Charizard managed to get me on the platform though, so everything's fine." He raised his hands in a placatory gesture

This was definitely not fine.

"Anything else I should know about?" Her tone was as flat as it could get. He winced.

"You probably could look over my ribs too."

"When did you get hit there?" She asked exasperated with him.

"Charizard kinda threw me on the deck with his tail." He grimaced. That meant he hadn’t even been over the deck when he fell. She turned her back to him and leaned on a cabinet. Took a few deep breaths. Counted to ten.

"Molly?" He sounded like a little kid expecting to be scolded. Good. Because they will be having a conversation about this. Just not now.

"Take off your jacket and shirt." She still didn't look at him. She heard the rustling of material. Next it scraped against the cot. More rustling. He hissed. She whipped around. He had his shirt halfway over his head. She could already see the problem. His left side was bruised. He couldn't lift his left arm enough. She watched him struggle for a moment. She touched his arm. He stilled. She helped him get the shirt off the rest of the way. He emerged from the material with a pained frown. She finally put the plaster on his cut.

"Thanks." 

She sighed. Why did he have to be so difficult?

She extended her arm to touch him. Looked him in the eye. He nodded. She started prodding his ribs. He inhaled sharply. She glanced at his face. Checked his pallor. She didn't need two people fainting in one day. Continued to test the give of the bones. He breathed shallowly, hissed now and then. Nothing seemed broken. She could safely assume that nothing was cracked either. She reached for a jar and handed it to him.

"You can spread it over your ribs yourself." She was pissed that he got himself in this situation. He should have called one of them for help. She made the mistake of looking at him. He looked like a kicked puppy. She had to look away. She wanted to stay angry at him. When she was angry she wasn't scared. She didn't like being scared. She started putting everything back in its place. She heard him put the bottle on a nearby table. 

"Molly?" His tone urgent. "Could you pass me the bucket?" She grabbed it quickly and gave it to him. He was paler than a moment ago. He put the bucket on his knees and curled over it.

"Going to throw up?" She asked concerned.

He swallowed. "Dunno." He swallowed again. Grimaced. Licked his lips. Sweat gathered at his temples. He heaved. She needed to revisit the possibility of a concussion. She pulled his hair out of his eyes. He moaned. One hand flew to his ribs. 

Ah, right, this was doubly unpleasant.

He ended up losing his dinner. He stayed curled up over the bucket a good while after he finished.

"You good?" She asked.

"Mhm."

"Do you want to lie down?"

"Mmm" He shook his head lightly.

"Then let's sit you up against the wall and I will take care of the bucket, ok?" She whispered.

"Mhm." She guided him back. "Sorry." 

She bit her lip. "It's alright." She took the bucket.

Looked back at him leaning against the wall, pale, with half-lidded eyes and hair in disarray. 

"Tell me again what happened."

"Why?" He frowned.

"Just do what I say." He told her the same story. With some more details this time. That was good. He got back some of his color. 

"Good that you didn't give me painkillers yet." He smiled faintly. 

"About that" she reached for the package "Think you can stomach them?"

"Maybe? Wouldn't hurt to try." He snorted on his choice of words. Then he grimaced.

"Is your sense of humor normally that bad or is it the concussion?" She shot. 

"Ah, so I am concussed?"

"Lightly." 

He nodded and swallowed the pill. He closed his eyes. She patted his leg.

"No sleeping."

He made a sound very close to a whine.

"Let's get you dressed."

He looked at his shirt like it would bite him.

Molly's phone rang. 

"Hey, how is he?" Murdock asked.

"Whining."

"I am not!" Friede protested.

Murdock laughed. Tension vanished from his face.

"He's got a light concussion and bruised ribs." Molly informed.

Murdock frowned. "He will be alright." Molly added. "How's Liko?"

"Awake and wanting to see Friede."

She looked over at him. "He's not decent at the moment." Murdock raised his brows. 

"His shirt was in the way of checking his ribs." She informed flatly. "Could you go to his room and bring a shirt?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"It should be on a hanger in the closet next to my bed!" Friede shouted.

"Will get it to you in a minute." 

Molly ended the call.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Good."

A knock sounded.

"Come in." Molly called. Murdock walked in making sure that the kids couldn't have a look inside when he entered. He looked Friede up and down. 

"You look terrible." He said while passing Friede his shirt.

"I do?"

"Yep. Will be getting an impressive bruise I think."

Friede looked at Molly in horror.

"You will." She agreed. The professor groaned. He put on the shirt.

"You should freshen up if the kids will be seeing you." Murdock said.

Friede got to his feet and washed his face in the sink. He used paper towels to dry odd. He run his hands through his hair.

"Better?" 

They eyed him critically. Molly fixed his hair some more. "Not going to look any better."

Friede sighed. "Are you up for it?" Molly asked.

"Sure." He said.

When the kids entered they were met with his wide grin.

#pokeani #pokemon horizons #my fics #whump #friede #molly #professor friede #nurse molly #captain pikachu #i made up two unnamed explorers #will this technically stay aligned to cannon that way? #i made molly a little harsh but i started writing it before i saw her actually take care of someone #somnia writes

[hello-everyfandom]

“I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

Warnings: Light swearing

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Your love language is Gift Giving

(This is apart of my series “Love Languages”, please check it out!)

“Close your eyes.”

“Should I be worried?” George asked quite warily. 

“Will you just-” you huffed, “Please?”

“At least let me know what I’ve done wrong before you jinx my tongue to the top of my mouth.” George jokingly pleaded.

“If you know what’s best for you,” you lowered your voice to match his joke, “you’ll close your eyes.”

“Alright, but I’m trusting you,” George placed a grin on his lips, the dimple of his left cheek becoming more and more prominent. 

“Now, hold out your hands,” you said feeling more and more excited.George hesitantly put his hands out in front of him and jokingly flinched when you touched him. His comedic flinch made you laugh as you scanned him over to ensure his eyes were shut. Satisfied with George’s compliance, you slowly reached into your bag to pull out a wrapped gift. When it was safely in his hands, George’s fingers crinkled around the wrapping paper. He opened his eyes and saw you looking excitedly from the gift in his hands and to his confused face. 

Instantly, George began to sweat. Had he forgotten an anniversary? Or a birthday? Or some other holiday? 

He cursed in his mind, fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Go on then!” you smiled, “open it!”

George looked uncertain as he slowly unwrapped the gift revealing a small box. He lifted the box to see a small shaped coin. “It’s... uh.” He asked, picking it up and fiddling it with his fingers.

“It’s a coin!” you giggled at his confused reaction, “I bought it when I was in Russia over the summer to visit my cousin at Durmstrang.

“Oh! It! It is a coin! I love it!” George moved to pull you in a hug before you chuckled and pushed him away.

“It’s not just a coin. It’s a coin that has been enchanted.” You pointed to the head on the coin, “When you flip it, it’ll tell you whether or not someone is near you. See?” You took it out of his hand and flipped it in your hand, immediately it flipped to Heads. “For pranking, yeah?”

George looked at the coin in wonder and then again at your adoring face. “I... I love it.” He put a hand on your cheek and leaned to press a loving kiss to your lips. “But, I...”

“What is it?” you asked, holding his hand to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, love. I think I... I think I forgot our anniversary or birthday or... I don’t. I’m so unbelievably sorry!” George spewed out.

“What!” you exclaimed in surprise, “No! No, no. Our anniversary isn’t until October!” you began to laugh, “I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

George let out a breath of relief before feeling tense once again, “But, I didn’t get you anything...”

You pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, “I don’t expect you to! It was just something for my love, that’s all.” you looked up to see George’s concern written within his brows, “Really! I just got it for you because I thought it would be nice.”

George shook his worry and began to smile, “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh, I know. I’m the most glorious girlfriend in the entirety of the world.”

“And so humble as well.” George grinned before giving you another long kiss. 

George grew up with seven siblings. While he grew up with hand-me-downs and knitted clothing from his mother, you grew up on the richer side of the Wizarding World. He wasn’t used to receiving expensive gifts and frankly felt a little uncomfortable and insecure. All the gifts you had given him must have cost a fortune, something he would never truly acquire. And although he loved his family and his upbringing, he cannot help but feel shameful at the fact that he cannot shower you in gifts as you did to him. 

It began with a new quill, then some pranking supplies, and soon the smaller gifts like the flowers you collected for him and the ties you bought turned into new robes and wand adjustments from Olivander’s. He accepted them graciously and sometimes even refused gifts as they seemed to be too expensive. With your assurance, he took them with a smile on his face but his head hanging low. 

With your anniversary coming up, George could feel the hole in his pocket becoming larger and larger and the money he had saved up had gone to ensure the twins’ ability to start their own joke shop. 

“I have no idea what to get her,” George flopped down on the couch. 

Ginny, who was sat to his left, looked up from her book.“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrow at her miserable older brother and looked to his twin who sat on his right.

“I mean,” George groaned and placed a hand over his eyes, “What do you get the most perfect girl in the world? What do you get her that she doesn’t already have?”

Fred began to laugh, “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, I think it has,” Ginny chimed in.

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

“Georgie, can’t you see?” Ginny grinned teasingly, “You’re whipped.”

“Like Mum’s Christmas cream, you’re entirely whipped,” Fred added.

George sat up instantly and looked at his siblings with annoyance, “Well, we already knew that!”

Fred and Ginny joined together in laughter, noting how George’s vein is popping out of his forehead. 

“Will you two stop your bloody, dumb, shitty teasing and just-” George groaned again and flopped back on the couch, “Help me?” He asked almost pathetically.

“How much did you want to spend?” Ginny asked, quieting her laughing.

“I don’t know! I just know that I don’t have enough.” George moaned.

“A necklace for the lady, perhaps?” Fred suggested making George shake his head.

“She’s already got enough necklaces and jewelry to fill an entire block on Diagonalley.”

“New quill?” Ginny added,

“No, she’s got her school supplies shipped from some store in America.”

Ginny and Fred began to suggest more and more things to which George either did not like because they were not “you” or because you already had them.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “What the hell can you buy?”

Fred thought for a moment, putting his fingers to his lip as he usually did deep in thought. “What if you don’t buy her a gift?”

“And what? Don’t get her anything at all?” George said sarcastically, “Good plan, you bellend.”

Fred reached over the arm of his chair and gave his twin a good wallop on the shoulder, “No, you dickhead. Don’t buy her anything.”

Ginny caught onto Fred’s idea and nodded, “That’s actually not a bad idea, Georgie, don’t buy her anything.”

“Hello??” George yelled, “Are you two not thinking right?”

“George, stop being a smart arse,” Ginny berated, “Get her something homemade instead.”

George opened one of his eyes to look at his sister who stared back at him in annoyance. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Ginny mocked, “Make her something.”

George groaned again making Ginny and Fred roll their eyes. “But I can’t make anything but dung bombs.”

“Then, you’re out of luck,” Ginny stood up, dusting off her pants. 

Before she could leave, George bolted up and grabbed her wrist. “Gin!” He yelled, “You know how to knit, yeah?”

“Uhm,” she looked to Fred for assistance, “I guess, Mum tried to teach me once, but I-”

“Brilliant!” George grinned, feeling his frustration seep away, “Then you’ll teach me!”

“Georgie,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I don’t really even know how to knit myself, nevertheless be able to teach you.”

“But, you’ll help?” He asked, putting his puppy dog face on.

Ginny looked at her older brother, her weakness, and let out a sigh, “Fine, whatever.” George shouted in victory, “But, you have to also write Mum and ask her because she knows more than I do. And... you have to tell Y/N that the idea was mine.”

George reached up and kissed his sister’s cheek making her scream in disgust, “Yes, done and done! You are the best sibling in the entirety of the world.”

George turned sharply and sprinted up the stairs to write a letter to his Mum.

“What the hell am I then?” Fred crossed his arms, “Toasted squid?” 

The following days were spent with Ginny and George trying, and rather unsuccessfully, to knit a sweater for you. Fred watched in the background making witty and snide comments. Molly had written back with such haste that Pigwidgeon was nearly on his last breath before arriving at Hogwarts. She sent many words of encouragement and told him that he was the absolute “sweetest” which was in large contrast to Ginny’s frustrated and rather harsh criticism.

“No! You’re supposed to go over not, George! Have you even been listening this entire time?”

“Of course I have,” George said defensively, “It’s just confusing, that’s all.”

“Why can’t we just use magic?” Ginny whined.

“Because then it wouldn’t be homemade, hence the word, home, little sister.” George frowned, “What does it matter anyway? She won’t like it.” 

“Georgie,” Fred pushed off of the wall he was leaning on, “Stop being such a worry-wart.” He patted a hand on his shoulder, “Y/N is the sweetest girl, just because she’s richer than Merlin knows and can afford whatever she wants and doesn’t have to care about-”

“Alright, get on with it, Fred,” George warned.

“She’ll love it no matter what.” Fred finished, sending his twin a much needed reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” George sighed and picked up the needles once again. “Now, what the hell do I do again?”

By the time your anniversary approached, you were nearly bouncing with joy. You had gotten George the perfect present, something he’d never ever expect. Thankfully, your anniversary landed on a Sunday so you woke up and rushed to get ready in the morning. George waited, anxiously, on the stairs for you until you emerged. 

Dressed in jeans and a nice blouse, George was nearly breathless upon seeing you. He gulped as you walked down, seeing the gold necklace your parents had gifted you for your last birthday and pearl earrings they’d given you after getting amazing marks on your exams. 

“Hi,” you said softly, locking your fingers with his.

“Hi, darling,” he said back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you sighed contently and began to walk to the portrait.

“Now, what shall we do on our momentous day of love?” George asked, swinging your joined hands. 

You pulled your bag up closer on your shoulder and smiled back.“I think,” you paused, “we should go on a walk. A long, romantic walk.”

“Then a walk we shall take!” George led the way, pulling you through the corridors making you giggle. 

It was a delightful day spent with kisses and fond memories. You snapped a few photos of your boyfriend with the old camera you had bought.

“Now, I’ll never understand,” George raised his eyebrow, “Why you have a camera older than time itself rather than one of those new, fancy-schmancy cameras.”

You looked admiringly at the photo your camera just printed. As it developed, you could see the two of you, cheeks pressed together, you with a shy smile and George with his tongue sticking out. Another photo you had taken moments before was a snapshot of George’s lips pressed to your cheek and you could just make out the blushing on your face.

“Well,” you looked back up at your boyfriend, “I just happen to love old, worn things I suppose. Why do you think I’m with you?” you added, teasingly.

“Oi,” he defended, “ ‘m only a few months older than you, love. And I’m not worn, I’m newer than a baby’s bottom. You’re the only girl ‘ve been with.” 

“Only? As in there will be more?” you asked, a taunting tone on your tongue. George looked at you, as lovingly and as gentle as he ever could, and thought nothing more of the life you two would have. Happy, content, any other words that describe a healthy and romantic relationship. His thoughts began to waver at the idea of how he’d only be able to afford a small flat, that is if the joke shop even took off in the first place. He thought of all the expensive things he could never afford and how you may resent him. As you looked at him, you thought of the happy children you’d have and the copious amounts of dogs and cats you’d care for. George swallowed harshly.

“Only.” He repeated. You blushed once again and leaned to kiss him. The feeling of your touch on his made George fall quicker, deeper, and madly in love. 

After dinner in the Great Hall, in which George absolutely refused for anyone to sit next to or in front of you in order to make it more “private,” the two of you were laid, cuddled on your bed. George could feel the anxiety and panic set in when he realized soon he’d be giving the girl of his dreams a disappointing gift. 

You hummed, sweet with content, and put your chin on his chest. “I’ve never been happier.”

“I’m so glad,” George ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the stray ones behind your ear. “But,” you said as you sat up, “I do believe anniversaries come with a certain type of exchange.”

“Oh?” George asked, sitting up as well. His fingers felt knotted and his throat was closing up. He had sneaked his gift in, awfully wrapped in some colorful parchment, and placed it under your bed.Be confident, George pleaded and tried his best to act cooly. 

“I’ll go first, may I please, please go first!” you begged. 

George bit his tongue, much preferring he’d go first in order to deal with the disappointment before anything and also give you a chance to dump his impoverished arse.

“Of course, darling,” he nodded making you squeal in delight. George breathed deeply and closed his eyes, holding his hands out as he usually did when you gave him gifts. In his hands, he could feel a box wrapped with a bow.

“Alright, go on!” you nodded eagerly. George let out a shaky breath before carefully removing the bow and lifting the lid. To his delight, he picked up a pair of wool socks that were embroidered with small hearts on the sides. “It’s-”

“Socks!” you finished for him, “Because you get cold feet, remember? Now, when you are playing Quidditch or cold at night, you can wear them and think of me!” George broke out in a grin and thanked the heavens for his girlfriend and all the luck in the world that it took for him to find her. “I love them.” 

“Really?” you asked, pointing at the hearts, “I did those myself!” 

“They look wonderful, I absolutely adore them.” He leaned and kissed you. 

The kiss was long as George put a hand on your neck to pull you closer. His lips moving against yours made butterflies take flight and your bones become weaker. As he pulled away, you rested your forehead on his trying to catch your breath.

“My turn?” George asked making you nod. George pulled out his crappily wrapped gift, that Ginny told him off for, and put it in the bed. 

“Oh! Wrapped it yourself, I see?” you teased. George nodded proudly, becoming more and more confident in his gift. 

As you lifted your fingers to rip the paper off, you paused and faced him with another sly smile.

“Alright! Okay, I was going to save it till the end of the night, but I simply cannot wait.” George’s eyes widened as you jolted off of the bed. “You didn’t think I only got you socks, did you?” you asked, moving towards the trunk at the end of your bed.

“No, wait, Dear, the socks are lovely, I don’t need another-”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it!” you sent him a wink, “Now, this one is the actual gift.”

“Actual gift?” George stuttered.Pulling out a large object, larger than your entire frame, George clenched his jaw. You struggled a bit to put it on the bed but managed and sat down in front of him.

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” your voice made him wince a bit.

You watched in utter excitement as George began to slowly unwrap his gift. Removing all the paper, George nearly fainted seeing his gift. A new broom, one of the best in the world, something he’d never ever be able to buy for himself. A broom, costing more than Merlin knows galleons. 

“So!” you bounced, “Do you like it? I saw at your other games, that bludger took out part of the tail end of your broom and I could not live with myself if you had an accident due to a faulty broom! I went and got it myself,” you said proudly. 

“And! It’s the fastest, rarest, and nicest type of wood, with a partially enchanted seat to help you stay upright!”

George’s hands shook, holding the broom.

“I-”

“Speechless? That was my entire goal!” you raised your fist in victory. 

“Y/N-”

“I know! And, not to mention, now you can wear your socks during the game! Two gifts in one!”

“Y/N-”

“I debated on getting you new gloves, but they wouldn’t be shipped in till middle of November and-”

“Y/N,” George said softly but firmly making you look at him with concern. You had never seen this facial expression on George as his eyes were nearly welled with tears and his lip was red from his biting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked frantically, “is it the wrong size? I gave the shopkeeper your height and everything-”

“No,” George said, putting the broom to lean on the wall next to your bed. “I can’t take this.”

“What do you mean? Love, I got it for you!” you laughed, waving your hand.

“No, Y/N, I seriously cannot take this.” You frowned, 

George’s voice was shaky making your heart drop. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s too expensive-”

“Nonsense, I saved up for it!”

“Baby,” George said, small and timid, “I cannot accept any more expensive gifts from you.” 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, leaning forwards to grab one of his hands, “the price doesn’t matter to me, I literally could not care,”

“But I care.” George protested. 

You nearly began to cry as you saw a tear dripped down George’s cheek. You sat up so you were sitting on your knees and gingerly placed your hands on his cheeks.

“My love, what’s wrong? Won’t you tell me?” you whispered, rubbing soft strokes with your thumbs. 

“I...” George struggled to find the words to describe how awful he felt, “I cannot take your gifts. And... and I’ll never be able to give you these types of gifts.”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you began to furiously shake your head, “George Weasley, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I’ll never be able to give you expensive things like necklaces or pearls or nice perfumes or nice suppers at fancy restaurants. I’ll never be able to give you the gifts you deserve. You deserve to be treated like a princess or a queen or anything and I cannot give you that, I can’t.” George let out.

You thought of his words in utter disbelief. Never once did you ever think of George’s economic standing and neither did you care. 

“But you do treat me like a princess,” you encouraged, making George moan with more tears, “You do. You tuck me in when I’m all tired from classes and make me cuppa’s in the morning. You massage my shoulders when I’m stressed and you hold my hand when you know I’m anxious.” You pushed his head up so your eyes met, “I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t care if you cannot give me expensive gifts or fancy dinners or anything, I care that you love me and want me to be by your side.”

“But, you give me all these-”

“I do it because I love giving you gifts! I love seeing you smile. And not all my gifts are expensive, sometimes I give you flowers I’ve seen or biscuits from the Great Hall. My darling, you do not need to worry if I feel as though you cannot provide for me, because you provide more than enough for me. I don’t care about money or gifts or anything like that.” you assured. 

George went silent and you began to pepper his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses until he cracked and started to smile. 

“I’ve just got the best girlfriend ever, haven’t I?” George asked, pulling you onto his lap. 

You curled into his chest and nodded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

It was quiet between you two again until you chimed up, “Well... may I have my gift now?”

“Uhhh, it’s uhh,” George stuttered. “It’s not amazing.”

“Don’t care!” you grinned and picked up his gift. “I’m so excited, I could nearly pee myself.”

George jokingly shoved you, “Oi, blimey well don’t do that. Not while you’re sitting on me at least.” 

You shoved him back before opening his gift. George held his breath as you unraveled the present and saw his gift. Your heart nearly stopped. You picked up the sweater, moving the parchment aside, and placed it on your lap. The sweater was yellow and made with soft wool. On the front, there was a badly made daisy, the flowers you always got for him during the Spring. Touching the fabric softly, tracing over each petal you stared at.

“I know it isn’t much but-” Before George could finish his apology, you took him by surprise and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. Pressing kisses on the crook of his neck, he could feel your smile.

“I absolutely love it.”

“Really?”

“With all my heart, I’ve never been given something handmade nor something so sweet.”

“I made it... myself.”You picked up the sweater and laughed, “I can tell. How long did it take you?”

George paused, thinking and smiling sheepishly, “A few weeks maybe.”

“And you made it all by yourself? No magic?”

“No magic,” George confirmed, “But, Ginny did help me... she and Fred helped me come up with the idea.”

You shifted in George’s lap, moving so you could toss off the blouse you were wearing and shrugging the sweater on. It was warm and smelled of honey and pine and the string he had used made you feel as if you were wrapped in a hug of his. 

“George... I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” 

George blushed a deep red as you kissed first his cheek and then his lips.

“You’re welcome, Darling. I’m just glad I’ve finally given you a good enough gift.”

“Well,” you kissed the skin of his neck, “I’ll wear it every day. But...”

“But?” George asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“But, I think right now, I’d like it off,” you suggested, lowering your eyes at him.

“Off?” George asked confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Oh, off!”

“You’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snorted before pulling George in for another kiss.  

#george weasley #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #george weasley x reader

[potter-imagines]

Meadow (George Weasley x Reader)

Prompt: Hi, maybe fred or george (you can choose) and the reader are spending the afternoon in a flower meadow together? (sorry for my english, it's not my first language)🙈😊

Notes: okay I'm sure spring break isn't a thing at hogwarts but for this write, it is . hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluff cause everyone loves george

Word Count: 3.5k

Spring break was winding down to a close as early April broke through. New life was brought to fruition as the snow from the harsh winter evaporated into the ground. Outside the grounds of the Weasley’s home were fields and fields of open land. Flowers sprouted in every step creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Those tumbling plains seemed to extend for miles beyond the horizon. Just beyond those grassy hills and slopes was a large, secluded meadow.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning when a pair invaded the area far before the sun began to rise. The meadow Y/n and George had been occupying seemed to be the perfect location to view the birth of the new season. The perfect spot to enjoy each other’s company. Soon they would be ushered back to Kings Cross and board the Hogwarts Express- George for his last time and Y/n, well it certainly wouldn’t be her last time, no matter how hard she dreamed it was. The topic of George leaving Hogwarts was one the couple tip-toed around. Break was only two weeks but that meant two extra weeks for the pair to be together. With the school year tumbling to an end, George would be leaving school soon with his brother to start his dream and Y/n would be stuck needing to finish her last year at Hogwarts alone. The girl was a year below her boyfriend and although it never caused any friction for the pair, the gap was finally giving them issues.

In George’s mind, arriving to his last school year was both an accomplishment, and a burden. As excited as he was to finally leave those stone walls that held him back, the last thing he wanted was to leave her behind. It didn’t make any of the pain easier knowing that he’d be leaving alongside Fred earlier than the rest of their classmates. Y/n had been the only other living soul Fred and George had filled in on their grand exit plan. They needed someone to keep guard and be a lookout so who better than the one person they trusted not to run their mouth.

There was a heavy smell of earth in the air, mixed with the faint odor of new growth. The vivid green leaves and the cheerful colors of the blossoms are a feast. Flowers popped up from the soiled ground and the fruit hanging from the trees were starting to come to life.

The couple had spent a good portion of their break at the secluded meadow. In a way, it became their little secret spot. Not that it was a secret location by any means. Fred and George had discovered the meadow a few years back when they had ventured miles away from the burrow. The boys were always adventurous, especially when Molly and Arthur finally allowed them free range outside the family home when they were eleven. There were miles and miles of tall grass and woodland that made it easy to get lost. Of course with Fred and George, losing their way was never a worry. When the boys stumbled upon the breathtaking meadow, George seemed to be the only one interested in their find. Fred had wandered off into the section of forest they entered through, his attention captured by a group of baby deer camouflage in the woods. For years George would wander back to the meadow on his own when he needed a break from the loudness of his siblings or grew tired of Ron trailing on his coattails every turn. He promised himself he would keep the spot to himself, let it be his own private sanctuary. This plan ran smooth for a few years before George made the exception to break the rule for one person only.

But for now, the two could only take advantage of the time they had together and they didn’t intend to spend a second apart. It looked as if Y/n and George had stepped straight into a storybook. The grass was Eden-green and thigh-high to a thrush. A neon-blue ribbon of river ran through the ground in a squiggle line. A party of bright yellow ducklings scattered in the calm water, small quacks filling the air. Chirping and sweet songs from the birds made that feeling of Spring become a reality. Buzzing bumble bees and wildflowers sprung along the land. The sounds of nature engulfed the girl whole as she melted into the soft grass.

“I could stay here for the rest of my life- away from people, away from the world. It’s peaceful.” Y/n hummed softly. Her large doe eyes observed the clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the baby blue sky, as if they were boats safely moored in celestial harbour. Peeks of sunlight seeped in through the cracks in the fluffy clouds casting a shimmering light as they danced slowly by in the sky. Just a moment before she was listing off all the animals and objects she saw in the sky. Now she was considering the thought of staring at them forever.

George stole a quick glance down where she laid in his lap. Strands of her h/c hair flowing across his legs and hands. It tickled against his skin as a light breeze swept past. Her abrupt words had caught him off guard. He had missed the sound of her voice for the last hour, although adored the trance-like state of happiness that she was in so he was constantly biting his tongue to keep his thoughts from pouring out. Now that she was somewhat back to earth, he was eager to chat. Tilting his head in her direction George raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” He questioned.

A smile graced her lips as she nodded in confirmation. The land was beautiful, unlike anything she had seen. There certainly weren’t any meadows with such serenity as this in the city of London. For once in her life she could hear the sound of her heart beating in the quietness of the open land and she loved it. No cars honking, no crabby cityfolk shoving their way through crowds, no taxi drivers screaming at pedestrians to move, no bright lights, just nature and all of its creations.

Extending her arm, Y/n pointed out to the land. George followed her direction to see she was gesturing to a small section of the meadow that was surrounded by an eyecatching army of poppies and bellflowers. A large willow tree stood towering over the side. In the middle was a bare section- large enough for a home to fit. Y/n grinned in excitement as she suddenly sat up straight.

“Yeah. Build a little cottage, start a garden, maybe even a family… I think it would be lovely.” She said dreamily. Her eyes looked up to George in wonder, silently asking him to share his opinion. Mirroring her previous actions, George scanned the meadow. He placed his hand against his chin, pretending to think long and hard about her idea. Y/n giggled besides him and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. He chuckled in response and leaned back into the log supporting him. George nodded in agreement to the pondering dream.

There was a casual grace to the meadow, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. It was quaint and humble yet glowing in - like a glorious mansion hidden away in a forest. A hidden gem that was to be kept away from the rest of society. Their own little happy place that opened and bloomed just for them. There was something so magical about the meadow that George couldn’t pass it up. It felt like fate leading him there- leading them.

“Think we could make that work. The family part is a definante- it’s just building a home that’ll take a bit of time. We could get started on making a family of our own right now-” George was cut off when a hand clamped over his mouth. Although he was only joking, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

“George-” She warned playfully.

“Or in a few years. But living out here would be nice. ‘S not like I got to worry about commuting for work. It’d be a nice escape from the shop once we get business running, and once you graduate. Not to mention moving out here would mean I’d get to see more of you in that pretty dress. Flowers in your hair... you look so enchanting, darling.” A bashfulness struck Y/n to her core at his words. Her eyes instinctively shot down to the grass as a paint of red rose to her face. George’s heart quite literally stuttered at her reaction. Making her blush, seeing her smile because of something he said never failed to bring a sense of happiness to George. That damn smile, he thought to himself. He was sure she could convince him of anything when that innocent look took over. It was natural for her. Y/n was simply ethereal in every way.

His hand brushed as gently as a feather across the skin of her cheek. Pushing the daisy back in place behind her ear, George drew his hand down from her ear to her neck. Gripping her softly George pulled her towards his body, lessening the space between the pair. Dipping his head he leaned in towards the girl until their lips were only inches apart. He smirked teasingly, ready to make a remark when Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Linking her hand around his chin she pulled his face in hers with a deep kiss. Although she initiated the gesture, it was George’s response that made her lose all sense of control. His large hands moved from her face to her waist in an instant. Much to Y/n’s surprise he lifted her without warning, still holding her lips in his, and placed her in his lap so she was facing him. Her hands instinctively switched to wrap around his neck for stability. Fingers gripped at his short ginger locks as she adjusted her hips into his.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as her entire body got weaker. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses. Everytime their lips met a rush of adrenaline and love ran through her veins. The muscles in her body went limp at his touch, jelly like. George held a tight lock around her waist keeping her steady against him. He slipped his tongue against her mouth, visibly shuddering when she slid her tongue against his in return. Tension was pooling by the second as the kiss intensified. Y/n’s strawberry dress cascaded down the side of legs as she repositioned in his lap earning a groan from George. Hot breath fanned against her face briefly at her movements. His hand darted from the small of her back to the exposed skin on her upper thigh, pushing her further into his body. The vibration of his voice against her lips and the tight grip of his hands on her thighs sent shivers down her spine. His kiss was sweet, like a long awaited embrace. Stars blurred her vision as George gripped her against his chest. The moment was quickly turning into a not so innocent kiss causing Y/n to slowly detach her lips from his. As she pulled away she remained sat in his lap, fingers brushing along the skin of his face as she admired his beauty. A smug smile was displayed on his face while he repositioned his hands behind his body to hold the pair up. Still holding his face in her palms, Y/n pressed forward to scatter a line of kisses on his cheeks. He chuckled in amusement before her kiss latched to his mouth once more. Between short and passionate pecks she fought for words to tell him how much he meant to her. She wanted to tell him all the emotions of love and desire he brought onto her. Tell him how she could never live with another- how he was the only one she wanted for the rest of her life.

“You’re too good to me, George.” She whispered against his lips. The lack of space between them was intoxicating. Heat emanated from George’s cheeks as he desperately attempted to regain his breath and compose himself. His chest was light with air caused by the sweetness of the girl before him. A small smear of glitter lip gloss covered his bottom lip in a shine.

George tasted a hint of bubble gum as his tongue swept along the skin of his bottom lip.

“I’d give you the whole world if I could but I’m afraid I don’t have the coins for that yet, princess.” Pressing his forehead against hers, George hummed the words. Y/n shook her head with a smile as she countered his grand proposition with one of her own.

“All I need is a quaint, cozy cottage out here and you… well a dog or a kitten would be nice too.” She laughed.

George could only stare at her in that moment. Her words registered although the naturalness to her beauty was too much for him to process. The sun hit her back in with such purpose it was as if she were an angel breaking through the sky. Her strawberry midi dress flowed down her sides and pooled in between his legs. Pretty pink satin clung to her form. The sparkling red strawberries fitted her perfectly. The ruffles on her shoulders gave her the look of a cottage princess, a fairy even. Hair flowing freely in the wind, it was a sight he’d never grow tired of seeing. He’d never seen someone as breathtaking as her.

Taking advantage of his silence, Y/n looked up to George in seriousness. His large brown eyes stared lovingly back to her. Gesturing to the meadow surrounding them, Y/n asked him,

“Do you think you’d be happy out here?”

George tore his stare from the girl to scope out the land once more. All the years he spent wandering down here alone in his mind and looking for some sort of answer to life, now he had found it. He could already picture where he would build a playset for the children and where he’d be able to make a small Quidditch pitch to teach your future kids. Ideas were forming for the house and how many rooms you’d both want. George was thinking somewhere around eight- extra room for more kids. Mapped out where the house would go, where he’d build a garden for you, figured out what tree would be perfect for him to put together a treehouse with Fred for the kids, and where the path would go towards the lake. The layout was quickly forming and he wanted in.

Y/n watched in curiosity as the thoughts swarmed through her lover’s head. She could see him intently thinking things over, then smiling before tilting his face back down at the girl. His head moved down so his lips could press against the skin of her forehead as he kissed her.

“Darling, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be more than happy.” He reassured her.

Y/n melted into the warmth provided by his lips. Her body leaned into his, desperate for more of him. George wrapped his arm around her shoulder tightly and fixed his body so he was sitting tall. She clung to his frame like a koala to a tree, burying her face into the material of his hoodie.

“Once I graduate?” Her muffled voice vibrated against his sternum. George ran his fingers up and down her spine as he held her tight.

“Once you graduate.” George repeated sincerely. Although they’d gone over the conversation a million different times, Y/n couldn’t help the shadow of doubts that crept into her mind. She trusted George with all her heart- every inch of her being but they’d be living in two separate worlds for a year and she worried that was something he might not want. Maybe he would realize he wanted to be with a girl his age, or someone older, someone not stuck at Hogwarts. Even without reason for worry, it still came.

Remaining in his hold yet moving back slightly, Y/n’s eyes darted to the flower covered ground. Her fingers ran along the petals absentmindedly as she worked to find the courage to speak. Her shift in emotions did not go unnoticed by the boy. George focused on the look of contemplation adorning her. As adorable as she looked, he hated seeing her in the slightest bit of distress. This went for any situation whether Y/n was stressed about a class, feeling ill, or just sad because she’s hungry, George does everything in his control to fix it for her.

“You’ll wait for me?” The sudden question took George aback. Her tone was a mix of innocence and fear. His confusion arose for the grave manner of her inquiry. Even if her worries were astonishingly unworldly to George, he knew better than to shut down her insecurities brashly. If the topic at hand weren’t so significant to their relationship, he might even crack a joke. However the seriousness in her features was not to be ignored.

George reached out to interlock his fingers through her warm hands. That comforting smile of his graced his face as he brought her knuckles up to his lips and placed a trial of kisses along the bones.

“Of course I’ll wait, love. No other girl I’d want to spend the rest of my life with- no other girl I want to call my wife, the mother of my children. No one but you, my love.” George insisted. It seemed magical to Y/n the way he always knew exactly what to say. Always so heartfelt and honest in meaning. He never told her a lie to make her happy but somehow managed to piece together a perfect string of words to make her whole again. Something in the way he spoke, in his words, it made her believe nearly anything was plausible. Most of all, she trusted him and believed that he had every intention of sticking around, which brought a sneaking grin to Y/n’s face. All those worries washed away at his words. It was a part she loved deeply about him.

The feeling of George’s touch smoothing over the bottom of her pink dress pulled Y/n back to the meadow. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted past his nose from the perfume he had gifted her for Christmas. His fingers would skim against her bare leg in a teasing fashion as he smirked. Y/n let out a giggle at the tickling sensation of his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support while her bashful grin never ceased.

“There’s that pretty smile.” George remarked with a chuckle. A sense of victory took hold of him at seeing her worries vanish. Arms locked around his neck, Y/n pulled him towards her as her head fell to his chest. Given their limited time, all the couple wanted to do for the next month was be in each other’s arms. George cherished every opportunity he got to hold her, knowing he’d spend the next year missing her everyday. It came in the little things as well like the way her hair always smelled like a basket of delicious fruits, or how she’d hum to herself while they were studying together. He already knew he’d spend most days babbling on to Fred about how much he missed Y/n. Break was almost over which meant the twins would be leaving Hogwarts for good within a few weeks. Y/n dreaded the idea of not seeing George every day, not getting to kiss him or hug him. George hated thinking about having to hear from her through letters and not getting to hear that sweet laughter every day. So for now, all George wanted was to hold his girl and enjoy the excitement for their future he felt budding inside of him.

The colors in the sky were starting to grow brighter by the minute and without saying it, the pair both knew they’d be needing to head back to The Burrow for lunch sooner then they’d care to admit. In the serenity of the meadows the couple found a sense of home. Y/n soaked in their last bits of time in the meadow before George mentioned them heading back. Although neither moved at his words but instead remained holding onto one another.

“I love you, George.”

“I love you more, princess.”

#george weasley imagine #George Weasley #George Weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasly x reader #hp imagines #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter imagines #weasley twins #Weasley twins imagines #Weasley twins imagine #gryffindor #weasley #hp #harry potter #imagines #imagine

[thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis]

Helpless (Greg Gerwitz x Reader)

Word Count: 1,486

Pairing: Greg Gerwitz aka Mouse x Reader

Summary: You come up with the idea to surprise your boyfriend Greg at work with lunch, but end up almost losing your life.

Warnings: swears, guns.

A/N: This is funny to me because I’ve been binging Chicago Fire but am writing Chicago PD imagines lol.

ALSO check out the origin story of this cute couple :)

Today was your day off, and you were itching to spend some of it with your boyfriend.

You have been dating Greg, or Mouse as pretty much everyone else calls him, for 7 months now. You met through your friend Kim Burgess who worked at the same district as Mouse who was tech support for the Intelligence unit there. At first, you were doubtful of your friend’s choice for you; someone cool and smart enough to be able to work with an elite team of the Chicago PD was probably way out of your league, you a librarian at Chicago Public Library. 

But when she tricked you into meeting him at the bar Molly’s, and Greg panicked after seeing how beautiful you were (he’ll never actually admit that to your face) and started rambling about Shakespeare mixed with the Blackhawks win the night before, you knew this awkward goofball was exactly your type. You eventually called him down enough to talk more about the hockey team and ended up agreeing to a date at the next game later that week. Seven months later and you were in love with the techie. But have yet to tell him.

It might seem like a long time to go without saying it (based on society’s standards), but you were in a bad relationship a year before meeting Greg who cheated on you repeatedly and tried to buy you back by saying they loved you. After you finally left them, you were always wary about using those words in the next relationship you would enter. And you had told Greg that much when it looked like your relationship with him was progressing into long term. And Greg was immediately cool with that, him telling you about his PTSD and how he might need some time in that department as well.

Today, you were getting bored lying around in your apartment on your day off, and Greg was popping up into your mind consistently. You two had talked a couple of days ago and texted the day before, but you haven’t seen him it what seemed like 2 weeks and missed his face. Just the thought of his smile sent your heart into a flutter, something thats been happening more often these last few weeks since you realized you were full-on in love with Greg Gerwitz. It was almost 11 when you finally made the decision to grab some lunch for you and Greg and surprise him at work. 

So you got dressed in this nice summer dress with flowers you had bought a month ago, threw on a pair of sandals, then headed out to the Portillo’s that your apartment was near; grabbing a burger and fries for Greg and some pasta for yourself. Then you were off to the 21st District, the June weather in Chicago just starting to get warm after its normal harsh winter. When you got to the district, you walked up the stairs to the reception area, eyes catching Sargent Platt at her desk. Turning a little more towards the stairs that led to the Intelligence unit, you were surprised to see Greg standing there with Sargent Voight and Jay, Greg’s best friend. 

They seemed to be talking to a couple, a hulking man with a bald head and a sleeveless jean jacket (almost resembling a biker) and a women with frizzy red hair and a leather jacket. You walked a little closer, not wanting to disturb their conversation, but saw Greg look up and catch you standing there. He smiled and for a second there, you had a little trouble breathing from the joy radiating off him. You were too caught up in Greg that you didn’t realize that the conversation happening in front of you had turned sour, not until you heard a growled, “Screw this.”

Suddenly, you had an arm wrapped around your neck and something metal pushed against your temple. You dropped the food bag in shock as you were dragged to be pressed against someone’s chest. Finally you’re brain caught up to what was happening and saw the red headed woman pointing two guns; one at Sargent Voight and and the other to the other side of the room where patrolmen were already drawing their weapons. Your eyes quickly found Greg, who was being held back by Jay, struggling to try and get to you.

“Nobody move!! Or this bitch gets a bullet to the brain!” The person, you assumed the bald guy, yelled as there was a clicking sound right by your ear. “Don’t try anything, or your dead.”

“Let her go, Farias.” Sargent Voight yelled, the metal of the gun pressing further into your temple. “You’re surrounded by cops, is this the way you want to go down?”

“Greg..” You said, looking at your boyfriend as Jay continued to hold him back. Tears started filling your eyes, panic setting in as the situation continued.

“Just get me my money you took, and then I’ll let her go.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Then the girl dies! You want that on your conscience?!” The woman yelled, looking back to Voight before switching to the other side of the room.

Greg looked at you, helpless with a gun to your head, and nothing he could to get you safe. His eyes started to water, No, no, no. Not like this. “Jay, come on, man. I got to do something.”

“What will happen if you run into this is you’ll get her killed and most likely die in the process. Let Voight take care of this.”

“You got ten seconds, and if you don’t start moving your ass, she dies!” The man yelled, pushing the gun harder into the side of your head. But before he could start counting down, you could feel the guy start to spasm, the gun moving from your head until it clattered to the floor, and the guy fell, letting you go. You turned, and behind you was Kim with a taser in her hand.

“Hey!”

There was a scuffle behind you and you saw Adam Ruzek and Kevin Atwater, tackling the woman to the ground and tossing her guns away from her as she was handcuffed. It all happened so fast that you just stood there, not knowing what to do. Then you heard your name being called, and you looked up to see Greg finally out of Jay’s hold on him and running towards you. You’re eyes started to water again, now with relief, as Greg finally got to you and scooped you up into his arms. Your arms circled his neck as you hugged him tightly, him doing the same. “Hey, I got you. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Greg.” You whimpered, trying to tighten you hold more, just to feel more of him as your body shook from subsiding adrenaline. 

“I got you. Are you okay?” He quickly pulled away to cup your face, his eyes moving all over you checking for injuries.

“I-I think so.”

“What are you doing here?”

You sniffled as you tried to breath deeply, your mind bouncing all over the place, “I just wanted to surprise you with lunch, I-I missed you and-and I’m sorry I should have called before or-”

“Y/N, you had no idea this was gonna happen. This is supposed to be a safe place, so you don’t need to apologize.” Greg said, smiling as his thumbs brushed away the last of your tears. He squished you face for a second before kissing your forehead, “God, I love you so much.”

“What?”

Greg smiled, and lowered his head a little before repeating, “I love you. So. Much. And I almost lost the chance to tell you.”

You smiled as your eyes started to water once again, “God, today is just a real roller-coaster of emotion,” you mumble as Greg chuckles, whipping the tears away again, “I love you too.” And with that, Greg pulled you in, his lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss that had your arms and legs get goosebumps. There was a loud clearing of a throat that made you and Greg pull away from each other; both turning to Sargent Voight who was holding your Portillo’s bag. 

“I believe this is yours.”

“Thanks.” You said, Greg grabbed the bag as he kept one arm around you, not ready to let go just yet. 

“Why don’t you take a long lunch, Mouse? There’s no rush since we got our guys now.” Voight said as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder, the redheaded woman finally being handcuffed and still struggling against it like a rabid animal.

“Thank you sir.” Greg said, nodding his head at the Sargent before turning back to you and smiling before kissing you on the head again. “Want to eat outside?”

You smiled as you could feel your love for Greg swelling in your chest, “I’d love that.”

TAGS:  @l4life​ @ithoughtiwasflying

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #hank voight #jay halstead #greg gerwitz #mouse #district 21 #21st district #kim burgess #adam ruzek #trudy platt #kevin atwater #intelligence unit #one chicago #greg gerwitz imagine #greg gerwitz x reader #mouse imagine #mouse x reader #chicago #portillo's #fluff #angst #cute #thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis writing #detective #sargent #officer #halstead #gerwitz #ruzek

[dirt-cup-draco]

Harry Potter x Reader- Drinks

Hi! I just saw that your requests are open, would you write a soulmate au with harry potter himself? 💕

g...uardian (it is said that the person who saves you from a near-death experience is your soulmate—drowning, car crash, etc.)

“Drinks tonight?” You asked, poking your head in at your long time friend Harry Potter. His head was sunk low into his hands as paperwork piled up high around him in suffocating towers.

“Huh?” He murmured through an exhausted haze. The startling color of his eyes were glazed over with sleep and you felt bad for disturbing him but you figured he’d much prefer to apparate back to his apartment and sleep in a bed than be left alone to wake on a cold desk with his back in shambles. “Oh, Y/N, I-”

“Get home safe,” You simply said, ruffling your fingers through his hair. Your heart jumped violently in your chest as the man leaned into your touch, a throaty sigh falling from his lips.

“’M sorry, know we been talking about a night out for weeks I just-”

“Shut it Potter, it isn’t easy being an auror,”

“At least let me walk you to your floo,” Harry offered as you silenced his apologies, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he rose from his seat, stretching his back and rolling his head on his shoulders.

“Fine,” It was impossible to fight the small grin his gentlemanly offer brought to your face.

You were even more pleased when he slung his arm around your shoulder, tucking you against his side without a second thought as the pair of you walked the now empty halls of the ministry.

“Don’t know why you don’t just apparate-” Harry sighed, good-naturedly.

“You know very well why I don’t,”  You snapped immediately, more bite in your voice than you ever wanted to use with Harry. He was your friend, had been since school, and more than that you were harboring a not so little crush on him.

Harry winced. Right. The details were even fuzzy for you so he only had a loose understanding of what had happened but he had seen the scars on your left calf and right arm. It had been during the war, a rogue spell as you tried to apparate had caught you on your shoulder and then you were being spit out nowhere close to where you wished to be, your calf in ruins and the flesh on your shoulder burned and melting from the bone.

“Sorry-”

“You’ve got a lot of apologies tonight,” you poked fun, trying to lighten the mood as the floo network within the ministry opened up to you, the green flames not doing as much to light the area as you thought they would.

“Just not thinking straight,” The man explained and when he pulled away from you, fingers drifting down your arm and then falling to his side, you nearly thought you’d seen his gaze dart to your lips before quickly going back to your own eyes.

Your back was to the floo, eyes still connected with Harry’s and you wanted to say something more to promise you’d only been teasing and it was okay that he’d reminded you of a not so kind curse and a very unpleasant splinching. You were still here, getting to experience the absolute shit experience of waking up too early for a job and the stomach flipping joy of being in love with someone and more, it was more than you could say for too many of your friends, housemates, and family members.

“Harry you know I-” You started, not actually sure of what you knew, nor of what you were going to say, when a loud and terribly misaimed hex landed much further above your head than was intended. The marble above you cracked and groaned, splintering off and raining dust around you as your eyes grew wide- heart in your throat.

“Get down!” Harry hissed, grabbing your hand and tugging you behind a wide pillar, his wand already drawn. Another hiss of air and then the boom of impact echoed through the room and you searched for where you thought the assailant, or assailants, might be.

“What in the hell-” You growled, tossing a quick curse out into the general direction you thought might contain the attacker.

“I can’t see them,” Harry was more than displeased and you were going to make it worse as you shot him an apologetic look and darted into the open. It would be easier for them to get a shot at you but then Harry could spot them just as easily when whoever was behind the attack went for you.

“Y/N!” He hissed, rolling his eyes at your stupidity as you through up a shield, having nearly been caught by the green flash of light sent your way. You swallowed the lump in your throat when a second flash of light connected with the ground beneath you and set a sharp spray of pulverized marble into your leg. At least you had confirmed there were two of them.

You spun around on your foot, looking to confront whoever had attacked your back but made the mistake of turning your back on the one who had attacked your front.

Two sparks of light were speeding towards you but instead of hitting you, they nearly met and fizzled out- your body being propelled to the ground, Harry having tackled you.

“Of all the things to do!” He shouted at you, grabbing your hand and dragging your now very sore body back to safety. You felt like you were going to be sick but his tone was so like Molly Weasley’s you found yourself letting out a sharp laugh. “You’re laughing?! I thought I was crazy but no you just had to-”

The both of you were cut off when your attackers spells came too close to comfort but were stopped by a brilliant dome of protection that had manifested itself around you and Harry. You gasped, realization dawning on you once you noticed that neither of you had been paying enough attention to protect yourselves.

It was hard knowing who your soulmate was nowadays, some never truly found out but you had an inkling that everyone ended up with who they were meant to be with. Despite that, everyone’s experience was different when they were saved by their soulmate.

Your father said your mother had saved his life simply by being the good influence he had needed in his life. The next time he saw her after this realization, she’d had a halo of blue light around her and he knew for a fact no one else could be his soulmate. Your aunt had said that her wife had pushed her out of the way of a rampaging and wild hippogriff when they’d snuck out to the forbidden forest as teenagers. Her wife had then been encased in that same brilliant blue when the Hippogriff had picked her as a target instead. The animal backed off, and your aunt had known then.

Now, with the blue dome surrounding you and Harry from harm, you knew.

And from the look of it, he did too. His eyes had gone wide, that harsh concentration that came when someone he cared for was in danger.

“Fuck, now of all times?” You swore, another hex going off above your head- the shield beginning to waver.

“Drinks after we get out of this alive?” Harry asked, a near smile on his face at your clear frustration at the poor timing.

“I like how you think, Potter,”

And with that, you grasped Harry’s hand in yours, both of your wands drawn, and charged into the open.

Tag List: @stuckysdaughter​ @thehumanistsdiary

#harry x reader #harry potter x reader #fluff #soulmate au #request

[braveclxrke]

✨ mini tarlos fic ✨

Ao3 / 1.2k / Tarlos

So this was written for the flash fic challenge on one of the amazing tarlos discord servers, thank you to @djdangerlove who arranged this💗 

20 minutes to write and the prompt was: "I let you down" + the word "Savor" 

Title: Stay close to people who feel like sunshine.

Summary: TK attends a call which brings back feelings and memories he had buried deep. After, Carlos and Tommy provide TK with some words of advice and comfort.

There had been a party occurring and the crew had been called out as a boy had collapsed and no one knew why. As they weaved through the crowd and heard the mummers an idea of what had happened, TK gripped the medical bag next to him harder, his knuckles growing white. When they reached the boy two of his friends were sitting next to him, shaking his unmoving body.

One of the boys looked up at the EMT crew, his eyes shining with tears, “He-he took something, I don’t know what,” TK felt the cold realisation run through his body. He stopped in his tracks, the bag in his hand dropping to the ground with a thud.

“You don’t know what he took?” He heard Tommy ask, kneeling down to check the boys pulse.

The kid shook his head, running his hands through his hair, “Some pills I think? Molly, Oxy I don’t know?” He stuttered, stumbling back from his friend.

TK kelt next to the young boy, he must have been around 16 maybe 17, practically a child. TK could see Tommy and Nancy saying something to him, their lips moving and their faces screwed up in worry, but TK could hear nothing. 

The only thing he could hear was the intense beating of his heart and the ringing in his ears. TK’s hands were frozen in front of him as he just stared at the pale face of the boy, he should do something, he needed to help. He wanted to help, wanted to move his hands but he couldn’t, his breathing caught in his throat and TK just watched as his crew mates worked to save his life. 

TK felt a presence next to him, hands reaching out to help his captain.

Carlos.

The three of them worked and after chest compressions and Narcan the kid surged forward, coughing and gagging, Tommy turned him onto his side and the kid began to breathe again. He was alive, TK could hear as people around started to calp but TK still didn’t move, his breathing still quick and harsh in his chest. Tommy and Nancy spoke to the boy, moving him onto the gruny they had wheeled in with them. TK managed to move his fingers, then his hand and eventually he was able to stand up, his legs feeling weak and unsteady. Tommy and Nancy wheeled the boy out of the room and TK watched as Carlos picked up the medical bag by TK’s feet, his hand coming to rest on his lower back, TK savoured the comforting touch but it did little to subside the guilt welling in his chest, “Come on, lets go,” Carlos whispered leading TK out of the room. 

TK sat on the curb, his hands linked together, his elbows resting on his knees. TK played with his fingers, looking down at the tarmac “You okay?” Tommy said, coming to sit next to him. 

TK stared ahead, his fingers fidgeting harder, “I froze,” He whispered, “The kid was lying there dying and I just...froze,” TK continued, his voice getting caught in his throat like the words didn’t want to leave, like if he didn’t say them they might not be true. He looked over at his captain, her image growing blurry as tears pricked the corner of his eyes, “I let you down,” He croaked.

Tommy cocked her head to the side, “No you didn’t TK,” She comforted.

“Carlos had to step in I-” TK just shook his head, the tears rolling down his cheek, “I wanted this job so bad and I screwed it up,” he said, a sad laugh escaping his lips

“Do you remember my first day?” Tommy asked. TK gave a small nod, “When I was at the roller derby, when I was looking down at that girl…” TK looked back over at his captain as he stopped talking, her eyes seemingly focusing on a spot in the distances, “I froze,” She admitted, TK felt his eyes growing wider “It doesn’t mean you're a bad paramedic if you freeze, it means you’re human,” She smiled, reaching out to give his knee a small squeeze.

TK took in a large breath, noticing Carlos coming over to the pair. Tommy gave a final squeeze before standing up, Calros coming to sit down next to TK, “Hey,” He softly said.

“Hey,” TK smiled, “Thank you, for stepping in,” TK sighed, “You shouldn’t of had to do that,”

“Tommy and Nancy had it handled,” Carlos said, reaching out to entwine his fingers with TK’s “It’s okay Ty,” Carlos soothed.

“I just-” TK bit his lip, “I just saw that kid and all I could think about was...” He trailed off, looking over at Carlos, his face showing he understood what TK was going to say. All he could think about was New York, all he could think about was himself lying lifeless on the floor. 

Carlos leaned forward, placing a kiss on TK’s forehead, his own forehead coming to rest on it, “It’s alright,” He whispered. Carlos moved his head back, taking his hand from TK’s and wrapping it around TK’s shoulder, pulling him closer. TK felt the tension start to drain from his body as he rested against Carlos' side. “You did good TK,” Carlos said into TK’s hair.

“I didn’t do anything,” TK muttered against Carlos' shoulder, “You, Tommy and Nancy saved him,” TK said.

TK felt Carlos take in a deep breath, “You’re not the only person who has froze at a scene Ty,” TK looked up at Carlos, still not moving from his side, “Yeah we’re first responders but we’re also people, and sometimes people struggle,” TK knew it made sense, he never judged anyone who had froze at a scene, after all their jobs were far from easy. But TK didn’t freeze, TK ran towards danger with a smile on his face yet today when someone had needed him...

“I got this job to help people,” TK argued, his brows pulled together.

“You do TK,” Carlos said, “I have watched you saved life after life and deal with impossible circumstances,” TK turned his head so he was resting it on Carlos shoulder again, “You’re a great paramedic TK, please don’t ever forget that,” Carlos whispered, placing a kiss on the top of TK’s head. 

TK watched as Tommy and Nancy closed the back of the ambulance door, “I should get going, shifts not over,” TK sighed, reluctantly pulling his head from Carlos' shoulder. TK gave a pout as Carlos unwrapped his arm from around TK, the pair of them standing up.

Carlos reached out, wrapping his arms around TK’s shoulder, “Alright, I’ll see you tonight?” He asked.

TK smiled, nodding, “Of course,” TK moved forward, placing a kiss against Carlos lips, “I love you,” He soothed.

Carlos smiled back, placing a kiss on TK’s cheek, watching as the man's smile grew, “I love you too Ty,” Carlos breathed, pulling his arms back.

TK gave Carlos’s hand a quick squeeze before he jogged back to the truck, jumping in the front of the vehicle next to Nancy who was at the wheel.

“You ready?” Nancy asked.

TK looked out the passenger window, watching as Carlos gave him a small wave, a soft smile on his face. TK smiled as he spoke, “Yeah I’m ready,” He breathed, savouring the sight of the man he loved as they pulled out of the lot.

#911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #tuserjamie #usersneetches #ashleykru

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Marry Me // Jay Halstead x Reader

Description: Jay falls for Kelly Severide’s sister

Words: 1891

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None. Just fluff

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Severide!Reader

A/N: Here’s some much needed fluff after all the angst I’ve been writing. Planning on doing a few more fluff/smut pieces before going back into the dark hole of angst. 

Jay had been dating you for close to three years at that point, the happiest he’d been. It had been tough when Erin had left, feeling as if he wouldn’t ever move on. He was going to marry that girl, he was sure of it. Until she left without a word. An empty apartment. Unreturned phone calls. He didn’t think he’d move on. 

He’d met you at Molly’s one night, Kelly Severide’s arm slung over your shoulder as you threw back shots with him. When his eyes met yours -- looking back -- he knew it was an instant connection. At the time, no. He didn’t know you, didn’t want to know you. But slowly, you’d broken his walls down, wormed your way into your life. 

He’d decided to go out on his own one night, not wanting to have to deal with the company of his friends. It was rough without Erin, finding his footing again. His brilliant idea was to steer clear of the usual haunts, lowering the risk of running into somebody he knew. Leaning against the bar and a bustling club, speakers sending vibrations through his body. It was a nice distraction. An even nicer one was when somebody’s hand came down on his lower back, pulling his attention to familiar eyes. 

“Hey, stranger,” you called out, voice fighting with the music as you smiled at him. He returned the gesture, ordering another round of shots for the both of you. 

“Severide let you out, huh?” he asked, mostly joking. He wasn’t about to start flirting with Severide’s girl. With all the past beef between Intelligence and 51, he knew better than that. 

“What?” you asked, brow furrowed for a moment before accepting the shot he slid to you. 

“Well, I mean, you and Kelly are a thing, right?” he clarified, the two of you downing the burning liquid simultaneously before you laughed.

“Oh, god no!” you assured him, hand holding onto his bicep for support. “No! Kelly…” It was difficult for you to speak between laughs. “Kelly is my brother, Jay!” After knowing you for a few months at that point, he’d never made the connection. 

“Oh!” You just nodded with a smile. “Well, in that case. Care to dance?”

-----

“We have to tell him eventually, Jay,” you insisted. Since the night at the bar, the two of you had been practically inseparable, falling into bed with each other more nights than not. For nearly three months. And Kelly hadn’t caught on. Not like it mattered, though. You kept telling Jay that, but he was convinced Severide was going to straight up murder him, and get help hiding the body. You were his little sister after all. 

“We can tell him when he’s on his deathbed,” Jay countered, getting you to roll your eyes as your head rested on his chest. This was his favorite spot. Just you and him in bed, relaxed, his fingers combing through your hair. 

“I don’t like being the bad cop,” you reminded him, looking up at him through your lashes with a smirk. “But we need to tell him. Yes, he’s my brother. And yes, I know there’s been some tension in the past between the firehouse and your department. But that was years ago, Jay. And I don’t want to keep you a secret forever. I would like to actually, you know, go out with my boyfriend sometimes.” 

“Boyfriend, huh?” He’d been hesitant on defining anything with you, scared of what it would mean. However, as soon as you’d said it, it just felt right with him. He kissed you softly, your hand cupping his cheek before pulling away. 

“I invited him over to my place tomorrow for dinner. If you want to keep being my boyfriend, you will show up, looking nice, and we will tell Kelly together.” He let out an exasperated sigh before nodding in agreement, kissing you again. 

-----

“Hey, babe, sorry I’m late,” he called out, letting himself in. He was hoping to get there before Kelly to try and talk you out of your plan, knowing he was cutting it close. Plus, you’d wanted him to get there an hour earlier than your brother to smooth out the details and any concerns. 

“Babe, huh, Halstead?” a male voice asked. Looking over, he saw Kelly standing in your kitchen as you set the table, shooting him a ‘sorry’ look. “How long you been dating my sister?”

“Kelly, can we not give Jay the third degree?” you pleaded, your brother shaking his head with a smile as he took a drink from his bottle. 

“Oh, not happening, sis.” He walked over to Jay, hand clapping down tight on his shoulder, voice dropping into a low, harsh tone. “I swear to God, Halstead. If you do anything to hurt her, and I mean anything. They’ll never find the body.”

“Kelly!” you exclaimed, throwing a towel at him. Jay nodded, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. He wasn’t expecting you to walk over, giving him a chaste kiss with a smile. “I promise, he’ll come around eventually.”

“I heard that,” Kelly reminded you. “Can we eat now? Some of us actually worked today.”

-----

“Move in with me,” Jay told you as the two of you enjoyed dinner at Gino’s, which seemed to catch you off guard as you coughed after taking a drink. 

“What?” you asked, as if you hadn’t heard him properly. 

“Y/N, I want you to move in with me,” he said again. “We’ve been together, for what? Almost two years now? I don’t like not getting to come home to you every night, or see you every day.”

“Jay. I love you.” You brought your bottom lip between your teeth before looking at him and nodding with a smile. “I’ll move in with you.”

-----

“You sure this is a good idea?” Kelly asked you as you finished loading up the last of your boxes into the truck. Jay had apologized profusely when a case came up, despite you assuring him Kelly was more than capable of helping you get the last of your stuff moved. “I mean, this isn’t going to change, Jay ditching for work.” 

“He isn’t ditching for work, Kelly. I understand his job is different, that sometimes he can be called in at a moments notice. But he makes me happy,” you reminded your brother, the two of you getting in the truck and heading towards Jay’s...your place. You had to remind yourself that it was now your place too. “Plus, when are you going to just drop it with Jay? We’ve been together two years. I’d think you’d at least start to be nice by now.”

“I am nice,” he countered. “I just think you could do better.” You slapped his arm lightly before reclining the seat slightly to get more comfortable. 

“Look. You’re my brother and you love me and all that though you won’t admit it half the time.” He chuckled at the statement, but let you continue without piping in to interrupt. “But I love Jay, Kelly. More than I thought possible. I can...see a future with him. Marriage. Kids. White picket fence. The whole nine yards. So can you please, please, please just start being nicer to him. If you haven’t scared him off by now, I don’t think you will.” 

“You really think he’s the one?” he asked softly, glancing over at you. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Fine. But no promises for the rest of 51. You’re like a little sister or daughter to them too.” You knew that was the best you were going to get, but you didn’t care. He was going to try. That’s what mattered. 

-----

“Thanks for meeting me,” Jay told Kelly as he walked into the bar. You were fast asleep at home, not feeling the greatest, insisting Jay still go out without you. The two men embraced in a quick hug before Hermann brought over their usual drinks. 

“Y/N not coming out tonight?” he asked the two of them. 

“She’s not feeling the greatest. Plus, she figured some bonding between me and Jay was necessary,” Kelly answered, Hermann nodding before walking away. “So, why did you really ask me to meet up?”

“Well…” Jay pulled a box out of his pocket, setting it on the table before sliding it over to Kelly. “It was my mom’s.” The other man opened the box, looking down at an engagement ring.

“You’re not really my type, man,” Kelly joked with a smile before sliding the ring back. “Is this your ass-backwards way of asking my permission to ask my little sister to marry you?”

“I’m going to ask her if you approve or not. When I first met her...Erin had just left. I wasn’t expecting to find somebody again. And there she was. I want to make this engagement perfect, Severide. I was hoping you could give me some insight.” Kelly looked at the man with a straight face, lips pressed into a thin line before downing the rest of his drink. 

“You make her happy,” he finally said after an uncomfortable silence. “She won’t be comfortable with something big, a grand gesture. Keep it simple. She loves the lake, loves walking along Lake Shore. She really likes going up to the Belmont Rocks to look out at the lake. Calls it The Ocean of the Midwest. I’d suggest a picnic or something up there.” 

“Thank you.” The two men spent the rest of the evening doing exactly what you wanted, bonding. And it seemed to be working, the two of them having a better understanding of each other and an unspoken truce. Because they both loved you. 

-----

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you said again as Jay laid out the blanket, letting you set down the picnic basket before the two of you sat down. He’d insisted that you take the day off to have a relaxed day, 

“When was the last time the both of us had a day off? Too long, that’s how. Plus, you have the time off saved up. Might as well make use of it on this beautiful day.” There was no way you could argue with that logic. The two of you ate the sandwiches he’d packed before laying down, staring out at the lake. You’d never told him how much you liked it at this park, not sure how he figured it out. It didn’t matter though, just enjoying being with him.

“I love you,” he whispered, holding you a little closer, causing you to smile. “Which is why I have to ask you something.” He pulled away, getting up on one knee with a velvet box in his hand. 

“Jay,” you gasped, hand over your mouth as he opened it to reveal the ring. 

“Y/N Severide...You came into my life where I wasn’t looking for love. In fact, I’d sworn it off, thinking that all it led to was pain. Every day, you proved me wrong, fixing what was broken inside me. Being with you is the happiest I’ve ever been, and I don’t ever want to let that go. So...Will you marry me?” His eyes sparkled in the sun, freckles dotted across his face with a look of hope, waiting for your answer. 

“Yes.”

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #fanfiction

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Name of the Game - Neville Longbottom x Slytherin!reader

A/N:  This was a request from the lovely, @obsessedwithrandomthings​ and I hope I did you justice with my writing!!  This request just gave me warm butterflies as a Slytherin and just because as much as I love Fred, hence my name, I have a little soft spot for Neville.  Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this potato of a writing and enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it and pretending as if I was writing a masterpiece and acting as if I was Shakespeare writing Romeo and Juliet.  Welp, now I’m gonna go back into my hermit cave and stress over how I probably didn’t do great on my psych midterms because I like self sabotage.

“Hey, Longbottom,” you said, smiling up at the boy who denied your attention each time.  Neville clenched his jaw slightly as he quickened his pace to walk away from you,  “Awwww come on Longbottom don’t be like that between us.”  He turned quickly on his heels, face slightly red from most likely what you would assume was anger, “There’s nothing between us, Lestrange.” Then, he turned around walking faster and into the Gryffindor common room, which you were quite surprised as he usually forgot the password to get in, was he that determined to not be in the same space as you?  Trying to not let the rejection get under your skin you shrugged softly, “One day Longbottom, one day.”  You weren’t necessarily surprised at Neville’s hate for you, one: you were a Slytherin while he was Gryffindor, which didn’t necessarily mean he had to hate you but there definitely was a lot of rivalry between the two houses, two: the big, unforgettable fact that you were Bellatrix Lestrange’s daughter.  Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the death eaters who tortured Neville’s parents into insanity, you knew about this as it was a fact that Neville would never forgive you for, you knew he didn’t necessarily hate YOU just the idea that you were Bellatrix’s daughter was what made him disgusted by you.  Ever since school first started you were immediately drawn to the quite awkward, clumsy boy from Gryffindor, not just because you felt awful for what your mother did to his parents, but also he just had an aura that made him unforgettable to you.  Every time he rejected your advances it hit a pang in your heart as if someone was poking the heart of your voodoo doll somewhere to cause you searing pain.  Neville didn’t know but you did visit his parents whenever you could, not out of charity or because you thought it would make you look good to Neville, but because you wanted to make up for what your mother did.  You wanted to somehow make up for what your mother did, although nothing could fix it, and eventually, you started to really like spending time with his parents and started to actually look forward to your visits with them.  

Next thing you knew in a week everything flashed by as Hogwarts started preparing for a war with Voldemort, or as most called him “The one who shall not be named”.  You were running around helping out your friends as much as you could, which was harder than expected as some held a great suspicion of you at the beginning especially Neville, sadly, thinking that you were working together with your despicable mother who was on the wrong side of the war.  Once the war started, however, people started to believe in your actions on how you fought bravely, protecting those you loved from Voldemort’s army.  Over the sounds of people shouting and some screaming blood-curdling screams on both sides as the life escaped their bodies, you heard the sound of your mother.  Her voice made your blood run ice-cold, as adrenaline pumped through your veins you ran towards the sound.  She was screaming something unintelligible through the noise surrounding you, blood pumping through your ears along with the soft ringing that ran through your head, probably from the hit you got earlier.  Pushing through you found your mother duelling with Molly Weasley, whom you saw as more of a mother figure than your biological one.  Mrs Weasley had taken you in as basically a second daughter once you left the reigns of your mother’s toxic brainwashing and insanity.  Seeing Bellatrix attack Mrs Weasley set a type of blood broiling anger inside of you that you had never felt as you stormed up.  “Bellatrix!” you shouted, your mother and Mrs. Weasley turning their heads toward you, Mrs. Weasley’s eyes widened with horror as you knew she was horrified at the aspect of you being harmed by your mother.  You gave her a reassuring nod as you walked up, head high and shoulders back, “I was wondering when you would show your face y/n darling.” Bellatrix said, eyes glinting with what you could only describe as pure madness as she took a defensive stance in response to yours.  “You don’t get to call me darling, you bitch.” you seethed, as she cackled softly, “Oh sweetheart, you can’t talk to your mother like that.”  She tsked softly as she waved her wand playfully as if reprimanding a child for throwing a tantrum, “You’re not my mother, you’re just a crazy bitch who can’t even think for herself.”  She cackled again, clearly not taking you seriously, “I’m not scared of you anymore, Bellatrix.”  She was about to respond until you took the chance and quickly pointed your wand at her and shouted, “Petrificus totalus!”  Her eyes widened as her body froze, limbs unmoving as you proceed with your spell, “Reducto!”  her body exploded into dust as you swear you could hear her wailing in your ears. As the action was finished you dropped to the ground body shaking as tears fell down your cheeks, “Oh, y/n, sweetheart.” Molly said as she came running as she engulfed you in a hug.  She whispered shushing noises in your ears calming you down as the hiccups decreased, “I don’t even know why I’m crying, I hated that bitch.”  Molly patted your hair down, trying to pat down stray hairs in a calming motion as she replied, “You’re just relieved, darling.  You finally don’t have that bitch of a mother looming in your life.”  You tried not to smile at the sound of Molly cussing as you hugged her back, “We need to check on everyone and the wounded.”  Nodding she gathered everyone as you stood there for a second, “Take that you bitch, guess I won this time.”  you muttered softly to the wind.  

As the war came to an end you looked around at the despair, people crying over loved ones and the wounded, you especially went around the Weasleys as Fred had died, although not related all of them were family to you and that broke your heart.  You comforted Molly as pain flooded your heart, the war was over and your turmoil with your mother was over and yet you would all still feel the effects of the devastation, and for what cost?  Sitting alone in a corner to catch your breath a finger poked your shoulder, you turned to see the tear stricken face of Neville, he suddenly wrapped his arms around you.  The only intelligible words that you could make out was, “I’m sorry, y/n.”  The sound of him using your first name melted your heart as you pulled him close as well.  “I know what happened with Bellatrix.”  he finally said, gulping to catch air.  “Yeah, she’s caused enough pain in this world, someone had to stop it.”  you patted his shoulder, “Neville, I know this probably isn’t the best time to say this but I just want to tell you before I regret not saying anything…”  You took a second to take a deep breath before continuing, “I-I’ve always loved you, Longbottom.  I don’t know why I love you.  My name is the one thing that causes you so much pain and yet here I am, falling deeper and deeper in love with you and I’m so s-sorry I never meant to love you I just wanted to make up for my mother’s actions and yet…”  Neville cut you off, kissing your forehead and staring into your eyes, “I love you too y/n.  I never meant to be so harsh to you throughout the years but...I just couldn’t accept the fact that I had fallen in love with the daughter of the monster that tortured my parents...and yet here we are.”  He glanced down at your lips before looking back up as if for permission, you nodded as you leaned in closing the space, “I love you, Neville Longbottom.  Please don’t leave me.” you sobbed out, shoulders shaking from the sobs of stress and despair from all the pain you had felt in the short span of the war that felt like an eon, as Neville pulled you closer, “I promise to never hurt you or leave you, Lestrange.  I truly love you y/n Lestrange.”

#Neville Longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom preferences #neville longbottom fluff #neville longbottom x reader fluff #neville longbottom x reader smut #neville longbottom x reader imagine #neville longbottom headcanons #Harry Potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter headcanons #harry potter imagines #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter x reader smut #harry potter x reader fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader headcanons #potterhead #harry potter blog

[cpd5021]

How to Save a life...

Hello again! I’m back with another multi-chapter fic! I told myself I was going to finish writing this whole story before I posted it, but we all know I don’t have that kind of self control. So instead, here we are with chapter one of my music inspired fic. Long story short, I found an old iPod of mine with lots of old, somewhat angsty music and it led to me writing this fic. Worth noting is that teenage me was OBSESSED with the early season Grey’s Anatomy soundtracks, so if you’re familiar with them at all, you’ll quickly notice a theme. Anywhoo, this fic is going to be full of angst, just fyi. Eventual Upstead, but this starts out as a pretty Hailey centric fic. Although Jay will be right beside her every step of the way. Buckle up, she’s a long one. Here we go!

Chapter One:  

Where did I go wrong,

I lost a friend.

     A Tuesday morning that started like any other, except it was only my second day back from New York. Yesterday had been filled with paperwork, debriefings, an hour with Platt where I wasn’t really sure what was accomplished, and finally, an evening at Molly’s with the whole unit. It felt good to be back and I was already settling right back in, almost as if I had never left. Everyone had been excited to welcome me home and of course the teasing about me turning into a Fed ran rampant throughout the night. But I was home, with my people, and that’s all that mattered to me. I woke up early this morning, quickly showering in an attempt to rid myself of the remnants of last night's multiple rounds of tequila and popped two aspirin before I headed downstairs. I found Vanessa in the kitchen, her upper body sprawled across the counter as she waited for the coffee to finish brewing and the sight brought a smile to my face. She had celebrated my return probably harder than anyone and I had no doubt she was feeling it this morning. I made my way over to the cupboard just above her and rested my hand on her back as I grabbed two travel mugs from the shelf. She groaned in response before pushing herself back into a standing position, rubbing at her eyes before squinting at me in the dim morning light. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure I told you to stop after that third shot.”

I teased, filling each of the mugs. She groaned again, feigning annoyance at my words. 

“Yeah yeah, I was just happy you were back.”

She took the mug from my hand and moved to the table to grab her things. I followed after her, grabbing my phone and keys from their spot before heading out the door behind her. We climbed into my car and she immediately shifted the seat back slightly to recline herself, draping her jacket over her face to block the sunlight. 

“I’m pretty sure you would be more happy this morning if you had listened to me.”

I teased again, earning another groan and a middle finger. I laughed at the sight and started the car, shifting into gear and pointing us in the direction of the district. 

We made the journey to the 21st in what felt like record time, probably because I was happy to finally be making this drive again, and I found myself grinning once again as Vanessa rolled herself out of the passenger seat, grumbling as she made her way towards the building. A familiar voice sounded behind me as I followed after her and I turned to see Jay jogging to catch up with us. Vanessa didn’t stop, instead settling for a slight wave of her hand as she continued her way into the building. 

“She seems pleasant this morning.”

Jay nodded in her direction before looking down at me with a grin. He knew exactly how much she had drank last night and that she would be suffering today. 

“I told her she should have listened to me.”

I shrugged, starting my walk towards the building as Jay fell in step beside me.

“Ouch. You gave her an ‘I told you so’? Harsh.”

He grinned down at me as I playfully smacked his shoulder. Kevin and Adam lingered by the front door, with Adam looking about as rough as Vanessa and Kevin seeming just as amused. I pulled the door open and they all trailed in behind me, bantering as we made our way into the main lobby. Platt, sat at her perch and peering down at us as usual, snapped her paper closed as she saw us approach. 

“Well if it isn’t goldilocks and her three bears. Looking a little rough this morning…”

Her attention was on Adam who merely nodded her way, his sunglasses still settled firmly over his eyes. I sent a small smile towards Platt and then headed up the stairs, my three bears in tow. We filed into the bullpen, finding Vanessa already sat at her desk, digging for medicine in her drawers and I made my way over to my own desk, plopping onto my chair and wiggling the mouse to wake my computer up. I shrugged out of my coat, draping it on the chair behind me and went to log in to my emails before Voights gruff voice filled the office. 

“Upton. A word.”

He said before promptly turning back into his office. I exchanged a quick glance with Jay who sent me a shrug and a confused look before I walked into the office, shutting the door behind me. Voight could sometimes be a hard man to read, but his current body language with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw set in a way that made me think he was holding something back, instantly had my nerves on edge. He nodded for me to sit down and I followed his lead, watching as he leaned forward in his own chair, resting his elbows on the desk and letting his head fall into his hands as he rubbed his temples. This wasn’t going to be good, I could already feel the pit growing in my stomach. We sat in silence for longer than I was comfortable with, but I didn’t want to be the first one to speak. 

“We have a problem.”

He spoke softly, rubbing at his chin while his eyes bore into mine. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that so I settled for a nod of my head, urging him to go on. 

“Gael got a real good lawyer. They found a flaw in his ‘open and closed’ case. Gael is being released, today.” 

His words hit me like a freight train. My body instantly went cold. Gael was the whole reason I was in New York, the lines I had crossed to put him in jail, risking my career and this unit's future...to learn that it had all been for nothing had my heart sinking. I wanted to argue, to yell that it wasn't fair and that he should never be let out, but I knew I didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

“That’s not the problem.”

Voight’s words threw me for a loop, how could that not be our problem? I tilted my head, sending him a confused look. 

“Word on the street is, Gael knows that the drugs were planted in his car by police and there’s a damn good chance he’s figured it out. Or thinks he’s figured it out.”

His nod towards Vanessa was subtle but enough to sink me even more.

“None of this is on her. She doesn’t even know.”

I shook my head, clenching my fists as my blood began to boil. 

“I know.”

He said calmly, in a way that angered me even more. 

“How are we going to get him off her back? We can’t let him get to her.”

I swallowed hard, my nostrils flaring as the emotions coursed through me. Voight leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest once again as his eyes never left mine. 

“We start by clueing her in to the whole story.”

Everything in me screamed at the idea. Not only would that put her job in danger, it would crush her to know what I had done. I couldn’t stand the thought but couldn’t see another way. Voight watched the range of emotions play out on my face before he stood from his chair, pulling his office door open just enough to call for Vanessa. I wanted to turn to look at Jay, to have him somehow tell me this wasn’t all my fault, even though it was and I knew it, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. I heard Vanessa shuffle into the room, closing the door behind herself and instantly sitting down beside me. I couldn’t look at her either, even though her eyes were boring into the side of my face before darting to Voight and back. 

“Vanessa, we need to explain something to you so we can figure out our next steps.”

Voight spoke, drawing her attention away from me for just a moment before her eyes quickly returned to me. 

“Next steps for what?”

She asked, sounding genuinely confused, her stare only increasing. I couldn’t look at her, I was barely holding it together as is and I knew if I saw her face when she heard the news that I would crumble. I furiously blinked away the tears that threatened to gather in my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t notice. But under her intense look, of course she noticed. Her hand came to rest softly on my forearm, giving it a reassuring squeeze and causing me to have to swallow hard as my throat began to burn with tears. 

“Gael is being released from prison. His lawyer found a loophole and his case is being thrown out.”

Voight began, his words confusing her even more and her gaze finally shifted to him, her hand never leaving my arm. 

“So what? We need to go after him again? Build another case?”

She asked, instantly shifting into cop mode, a fact that would have normally made me smile with pride at the officer she was becoming. But instead it only made my heart sink more. 

“No. We won’t be doing anything. Other than keeping you safe.”

At his statement, I quickly closed my eyes as I felt wetness gather there, knowing they would spill at any moment.

“Me? Sarge, I don’t understand…”

I knew she was looking at me again but I kept my eyes clamped shut, waiting for him to drop the bomb. 

“Gael somehow knows that the drugs they found in his car were planted there by police. He knows you were personally tied to the case so he’s linking you to this whole situation.”

Her grip on my arm tightened and when she spoke I could hear some fear trickle into her voice.

“Sarge, I didn’t...I would never.”

She stammered, trying in vain to prove her innocence. 

“I know it wasn’t you.”

He said softly, trying to reassure her. The room fell silent for a moment and I could practically feel her putting two and two together. Her grip on my arm faltered slightly and I finally forced myself to open my eyes, still avoiding meeting hers. 

“Hailey…”

It came out as a mixture of a question and a statement. She wasn’t stupid and had instantly realized what had occured, but I knew she was having a hard time believing it. I couldn’t respond, I didn’t know what to say to explain myself. I had never meant to cause any issues, I just wanted to get a bad man off the streets and if that meant helping out a friend in the meantime then so be it. I had never in a million years expected this to blow up and I had really hoped after my stint in New York I would be able to put this all behind me. 

“Vanessa we’re going to have you lay low until we can figure out a plan. We might be able to set another case up to get him put away, but it’s going to have to be by the book. Gael’s not stupid and if we come at him again he’s going to fight back.” 

She nodded at Voight’s instructions but her eyes were once again glued to the side of my head. I swallowed hard and pushed myself to meet her gaze, seeing a mix of anger and hurt behind her eyes once they reached mine. 

“Why would you...how could you?”

She stammered out her words, shaking her head slightly as if still in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry Vanessa..I just thought-”

She cut me off before I could continue, standing abruptly from her spot beside me. 

“No. You didn’t think. That’s the problem.”

And with that she stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind her. I stayed firmly planted in my seat, reeling from the blow I had just received. It had been well deserved but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I’ll have you grounded here too until we can figure this out. I don’t want you anywhere near this case, is that clear?”

He asked, waiting for me to make eye contact to assure I was listening. 

“Yes sir.”

I all but whispered, my voice thick with emotion. I stood then and slowly pulled the door open, immediately turning down the hall towards the locker room before anyone could see my face. I stormed all the way to the back, towards where the bathroom stalls were and briefly debated locking myself inside to fall apart. But I knew if I let myself do that then I would have a hard time coming back out. Instead, I headed towards the sink, running the cool water and splashing some on my face. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt disgusted with the person looking back. How could I have let this happen, how could I have done this, crossed these lines and put everyone at risk. It made me feel sick. Just as I was drying my face off with a paper towel, I heard footsteps come up behind me and turned to find Jay standing there, looking concerned. 

“Everything okay?”

He asked, taking another step closer. I tried my best to put a smile on my face but I knew he would see right through me.

“Nope. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

I waved my hands up in frustration, feeling the emotions once again gather at the back of my throat. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

He asked, his voice genuine and filled with care. I couldn’t handle this right now. I couldn’t handle Jay being Jay and looking at me like I couldn’t do anything wrong. He knew the story, I had told him the night Voight sent me away. I figured I at least owed him an explanation before I disappeared off to New York. But I had hoped it would be the last time we had ever talked about it. I shook my head, dipping my head slightly before sending him an empty smile. 

“No. This doesn’t involve you and I’m not bringing any more people into it.”

With that, I brushed past him, ignoring the way his face displayed some hurt from my words, and made my way back out into the bullpen. 

     Only a short while after I had settled into my desk, aimlessly scrolling through emails I wasn’t actually reading and ignoring the concerned looks from Jay, Voight came out of his office. 

“Alright listen up, we have a case. Rojas and Upton, I’m pulling you. I want you two to go sort through some case files Platt left downstairs. Stay put until I tell you otherwise. I stood from my desk immediately, warding off all the looks being sent my way as I rushed from the room. I could hear Vanessa right behind me but didn’t dare turn to face her. We entered the rollup, finding a stack of boxes on a table in the corner and settled into our task silently. I didn’t know what to say to her to fix this, I didn’t want to upset her more or push her further away. After a while though, I couldn’t stand the silence any more. 

“Can I explain?”

I asked quietly, hoping she wouldn’t immediately shut me out. 

“I don’t think you need to. I know you well enough to know what happened Hailey, I just can’t believe it.”

Her words were cold and harsh. My throat felt tight once again. 

“I only did what-”

I started, only to be cut off with a raise of her hand.

“I know what you did. And why. You planted the drugs to get him the deal, for me. You jeopardized your career, all of our careers, for me? I guess I should be honored or something. But Hailey, you could have been fired. Or worse, sent to jail. And then the whole time you’re in New York I was over here thinking you’ve been given this amazing opportunity because you’re just that good...and it was really just a punishment? Over something that could have ruined all of us? I just...I don’t get it.”

Before I had the chance to reply, she stood angrily from her perch beside the table and stormed out of the room. I hesitated for a moment before I slowly followed after her. I made it all the way up the stairs,  my eyes scanning the empty bullpen for her when I spotted her small frame hovering over Kevin’s computer. Her eyes darted to mine for a moment before she jogged past me, heading back down the stairs into the roll up. I wanted to follow her again but the look on her face had me curious as to what she had found on Kevin’s computer. I rounded his desk quickly, looking at the screen which held a pinged address, the name under the small picture of a building read Gael and my heart sank. Not only was my unit headed there for who knows what, but I had no doubt that Vanessa intended to follow them. I turned and raced down the stairs, hoping to catch her before it was too late. Luckily, Vanessa didn’t have a car of her own and leaving with a UC or patrol car would require her to check in with Platt whom I’m sure was all too familiar with our grounding. I found her lingering by the side door, looking panicked as she considered her limited options. Her eyes met mine once again and I saw a determination within them that frightened me.

“Vanessa...you can’t.”

She let out a cold laugh, shaking her head as she looked at me.

“So now you wanna stick to the rules?”

She challenged, making my blood boil just a bit. 

“Yeah, I do. I already messed this up enough. We sit tight. They have this.”

I tried to reason with her, while at the same time talking myself down from racing out the door and doing the same thing she wanted too. The look on her face told me she was leaving one way or another and I wasn’t going to win this battle. 

     I knew the repercussions of what we were doing was liable to get us both in some hot water, but that didn’t stop me from pulling my car up behind Jay’s truck and shutting it off. Vanessa immediately jumped out, with me hot on her heels. The team was nowhere in sight and I assumed they were all inside the large warehouse, I just didn’t know how long they had been there. I followed closely behind her, trying to quietly draw her attention to the fact that we couldn’t just barge in without the risk of our own unit shooting us down. But Vanessa was on a mission and my words never reached her ears. She found a door at the back of the building and pushed her way inside. I drew my gun, blindly following behind her into the dimly lit room. We travelled down a hallway that ended with a flight of metal stairs leading up to a second level and without hesitation she was climbing up them at a rapid pace. I followed behind, pausing when a step protested loudly under my weight and when I looked back up she had disappeared from view. I took a few more steps before I heard footsteps behind me, I turned just as a beam of light hit my face. When the light lowered I was met with Jay’s eyes looking confused and angry at my presence. 

“I could have shot you! What are you doing here?”

He hissed, closing the distance between us. 

“Vanessa.”

I nodded up the stairs, letting him know I wasn’t alone in this awful idea. His jaw clenched as he followed my nod, before we quickly made our way up the steps. As we cleared the landing, voices sounded from down the hall. I heard Vanessa’s voice, trying to reason with whoever she was talking to. My heart sank when a man responded and I recognized the voice as Gael’s. My eyes shifted back to Jay’s, sharing a look of panic before we made our way down the hall, guns drawn. Just as we approached the doorway where the other two were, I heard Vanessa’s voice again.

“No!”

She screamed, seconds before a gunshot sounded from the room. Jay whipped into the room, instantly firing off two shots of his own. I rounded the frame just behind him and felt my body go ice cold as I took in the sight before me. My body moved on autopilot as I raced to her side, her body limp on the ground as a pool of blood rose from her chest. My hands pressed into the blood, trying in vain to stop the flow but I could feel it rushing out around my fingers. Her face was pale as she looked up at me with a terrified expression and my world closed in around me as I watched the life begin to fade from her eyes.

#chicago pd #halstead and upton #jay halstead #hailey upton #halstead #jay x hailey #upstead #upton #vanessa rojas #rojas #song fic #angst

[spotofimagines]

Family Incident ~ Charlie Weasley

A/N: Look, I know I said the second part to “Keeping A Secret” was gonna be the next thing but I got a little stuck on it. I was in writing mode and had this idea so here we are. The other fic is half done so it won’t be long until it’s posted. I do love this one tho, I hope you guys enjoy! btw if this gif is yours let me know and I’ll tag you for credit (I had it saved so I don’t know who made it).

Requested by: no one

Warnings: injury, hospital (neither are in detail)

Summary: You’re used to being in hospitals with Charlie but after a quidditch match with his brothers outside the Burrow, you get a whole new hospital experience.

Once again, you found yourself spending your afternoon sat on the cushioned chairs of an imfirmary waiting room whilst Charlie got checked on by a healer. It certainly wasn’t an odd experience for you anymore, Charlie being a dragonologist meant you visited healers in Romania pretty much once a week to deal with burns, gashes and the odd knock to the skeleton.

But this particular visit was strange. You hadn’t found yourself in St Mungo’s in years and you hadn’t been accompanied by more than one person during your wait since you were in Hogwarts. It made the environment a little more hectic; Molly pacing back and forth, Arthur rustling the pages of the newspaper he was reading, but most distractingly, the bouncing leg of the nervous girl sat next to you.

----

The Weasley siblings and Harry were playing a small game of quidditch outside the burrow. You and Hermione sat on the steps next to the door catching up with your lives, Hermione cheering for Ginny whenever she got a hold of the makeshift quaffle.

Before you knew what was happening, a bundle of red hair and fleecy jumpers were hurtling to the ground. The nasty thud you heard made you cringe inside but in a quidditch match with this family, falls and bumps were casual. It was Hermione jumping up fearfully shouting Ron’s name that filled you with panic, causing you to look over and see someone on the grass and another person seconds from the same fate before you rushed up and followed her worried trail.

The four remaining brooms flew down as fast as possible and they huddled around the two boys on the ground. Hermione crouched down next to Ron, brushing hair off his forehead and muttering calming words despite her terrified expression.

You were about to crouch on the other side of him to see where he was hurt when an all too familiar groan came from the floor on the other side of you. Looking down to your right, Charlie was spread out, wriggling around a little, his hair and clothes sprawled in every direction as he tried to push himself up to stand. You instantly moved to him and wrapped an arm around his back, hooking the other under one of his arm until he stood straight - or as straight as he could get - as his pained huffs filled your ears.

“There you go.” You said in his ear, your eyebrows furrowing when you noticed him gripping his shoulder. Carefully you placed your hand on top of his at his shoulder, intending to have a look at how seriously he was hurt.

“Blimey Ron!” George blurted as he tucked the makeshift quaffle under his arm, “Your leg looks awful!” You snapped your head over to the others. “Hey!” You shouted to get their attention and you put your finger against your lips. “He doesn’t need to know.” Your whisper-shout caused them all to be quiet and look back down to Ron. The only sounds in the yard were Ron’s whimpers of pain as he squirmed under Hermione’s attentive but shaky hands.

That was until Molly ran out the house.

“What the bloody hell has happened here?!” Her yells filled the quiet yard as she waved her arms in stern panic at the sight of one son on the ground, one son slightly hunched over under his girlfriend’s arm and everyone else looking rather pale.

“It was an accident mum.” Charlie grumbled out, his hand grabbing his shoulder again as he straightened to face Molly. Your hands still kept him steady since you could tell he was more than a little sore from his fall. He had had his fair share of quidditch falls from his time as Gryffindor seeker at Hogwarts, but this seemed like a nasty hit to his body even for him.

Molly gasped when she saw Ron’s leg and leant down to inspect him.

“We were playing quidditch, Ron was looking for a good pass, I was busy making sure Ginny didn’t hit me, Fred was shouting loud, I don’t know…” he explained, his words becoming quiet at the end of his sentence, knowing whatever reasoning he gave wouldn’t change what happened. He sucked in a sharp breath and you rubbed his back to sooth him.

“We didn’t see each other I guess. I’m so sorry Ron.” His eyes were filled with pain from his shoulder and pain from knowing he hurt his younger brother. Ron didn’t reply, he just let out another whimper of pain as Molly toyed with his ankle.

“Oh you will be sorry if this is detrimental Charles!” Molly scolded, Charlie’s eyes squeezing shut as he looked down at the grass letting out a shaky breath. He couldn’t believe he was the reason for Ron hurting this badly, he’d only been home for a day and this is what he had managed to do. Maybe he was better suited to dragons for a reason.

Molly looked over at her second eldest son and sighed, realising her words were a bit harsh given how much Charlie would be beating himself up for this.

“Ginny go get your father, we’ll have to go to St Mungo’s for this,” her words were still angry but they were controlled so to diminish some of Ron’s and Hermione’s fear.

“Fred, George,” she stood and informed her children, fury washed away as her instincts kicked in, “tell Perc- actually no Harry, tell Percy he is in charge until Bill and Fleur arrive, they shouldn’t be longer than an hour away by now. Fred and George, you clean up all this equipment and please behave for your brothers.”

As the members of the group went inside the house one by one, Arthur quickly came toward you with a concerned look. “What’s gone on?” “Quidditch crash.” You replied with the short story, Arthur nodding and moving over to Ron as he talked nonsensically to Hermione through the pain.

You rubbed the back of Charlie’s hurt shoulder before wiping a few stray tears off his cheeks as he tried his hardest to avoid your eyes yet moved further into your hold. You softly held his jaw and made him look at you, giving him a soft peck and resting your forehead on his as the regretful blue of his eyes made your heart hurt for him.

“You’ll be fine love. Ron will be okay, I’m sure.” You whispered, giving him a second peck then wiped his cheeks again as a few fresh tears fell from his eyes after they closed.

Charlie was used to being bashed around a lot from the creatures he worked with everyday and you knew he would be unfazed by his own injury. His distress and concern came from the state of his little brother, and he was getting more restless by the second as Ron’s whimpers and groans reminded him of his mistake.

Your fingers automatically found his as you stepped to the side to give Molly a chance to quickly check her son’s condition. Charlie’s hand gripped yours tightly as Molly rolled his arm ever so slightly, telling you that your hospital visit would be a lot longer than your usual trips.

—-

You sat looking at the posters on the walls. Your leg was loosely crossed on top of the other, your fingers drumming an absent tune over the fabric of your knee.

Hearing a shaky huff come from your side, you saw Hermione staring at a random spot on the floor whilst her fingers nervously fidgeted on her lap. You knew exactly what she was feeling, having been in her position when Charlie first started working with dragons and a couple major injuries got your anxiety reaching higher levels than you’d known before. But eventually the regularity of the situations meant you had no choice but to gradually calm down, and when the big incidents got Charlie in serious pain, you just worked through the routine without considerable fear to make sure he didn’t panic.

“You know,” you said gently, giving Hermione’s arm a soft tap so you didn’t startle her out of her thoughts. “Me and Charlie used to be just like you and Ron; panic first, think second, then stress until he’s healthy. That was before we ended up on the reserve and he’d be getting injured every other day like the clutz he is.” You smiled at the thought of his clumsiness and you swore you noticed the faintest of smiles poking the corners of Hermione’s lips.

“I don’t care less now, I definitely still care about his health, I just worry about sitting in these waiting rooms less. I’ve realised he’s actually a pretty strong guy,” you say with a light-hearted warmth, “and I know once the shock has worn off that Ron will be the same.” You smiled sympathetically at Hermione. She nodded at your words and you knew she was trying to appear calm but she was still scared about Ron’s condition.

When the door separating the waiting room from the medical areas opened, Hermione flew up to her feet and rushed across the room with Molly not too far behind. Hermione stood next to the door waiting anxiously as Molly continued on in front of her. Your heart warmed from your unmoved position in your seat at the love and worry the women held.

Seeing Charlie’s orange curls come through the doorway first made you slowly stand up, making no real rush to get to him. Molly wrapped him in a loving but cautious hug before telling him something you couldn’t hear.

She kissed his cheek and he smirked, squeezing her shoulder before catching your eye and straightening up. Giving a small thanks to his mum, he stepped toward you smiled sheepishly as you let out a breathy laugh at his arm in a sling.

You hands softly held his jaw whilst you gave him a kiss, his good arm around your waist now relaxed in its natural place around you.

“Quite the fashion statement there.” You joked as your arms snaked around his neck, careful not to budge the white fabric on his shoulder. His breath fanned over your face as he laughed at your comment. “Think it looks quite good to be fair, might keep it for a while,” he looked down at his arm moving it around slightly, pondering, “What d’you think?”

“I don’t think you have much choice, my love.” You giggled when his face changed from lazy happiness to feigned shock before growing into a massive grin. Shaking your head amused, you moved your hand to his cheek to brush your thumb over a small cut on his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could see the tiredness in his expressions from being medically worked on for a few hours whilst trying to assure himself Ron would be okay. All you wanted to do was take your boyfriend to bed, let him get the rest he needed after the long day and have some warm cuddles. But you needed to stay and see Ron, more for Charlie’s sake so he would actually get some sleep that night.

You saw Hermione trying to peek through the window of the door behind Charlie and sighed. When Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed a little, you nodded toward her and he instantly saw the resemblence between her and a younger you, making him smile sadly at the situation he felt he had put her in.

“Come on,” You said quietly, “We’ve got some first timers here.” You beamed as you wiggled your eyebrows and started guiding him toward the seat you were in earlier, away from the perturbed pair. A smirk lit up his face to match yours, lazily letting his free arm be pulled by you. He turned his head to Hermione as he kept slowly following your feet. “He’ll be out in just a minute.” He reassured her, making her nod with the faintest smile of thanks before Charlie focused on you again.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #hp #hp imagine #ron weasley #hermione granger #molly weasley #oneshot #my fic #my og post

[a-dot-han-writes]

The Mollie and Harper Chronicles - {II} Part I - I Can't See You {II}

A/N: this is a little story I wrote to get some emotions out about my feelings and try to move on from the person I currently have feelings for because I really shouldn't have feelings for them anymore.

For the record, the names in this are fake, and so are the events of the story, but their girlfriend and the boy in my life (as well as my ex) are real people, and this is a real conflict of feelings I am having in my mind at the moment.

I was hoping that by writing out a story based on my conflict because writing stories is what I do best, it would help get my feelings out of my system and help me find an answer and get the emotions out... so far it hasn't, but maybe I just need to give it time.

I actually really like how the story came out, and felt like making it into a little series, and I wanted to share it with people who enjoy reading other people's writing. Hope you enjoy it!

Also, if anyone has advice for this type of situation, please feel free to share... it would honestly be much appreciated.

By the way, if you think you've seen this somewhere else, you have! On my other account second account: 'iloveyousincerely' - go follow me there <3

On with the story! Enjoy!

~~~~~~

I watched them from afar as they walked towards me, and a small sigh slipped from my lips. I shook my head, turning away and heading back towards the house, my heart feeling as if it was sitting in my stomach.

I heard the footsteps behind me, but I ignored them as I continued to walk to the house that belonged to my best friend. I really didn't want to look at them, especially not at their eyes. No, scratch that... I couldn't look at their eyes because those stupid blue eyes would end up making my heart skip a beat.

They must've taken the hint because they never came into the house, and my heart sighed in relief, along with my mind, which was tired of the conflict of feelings rushing around in my head, which was only worsened whenever I saw them.

It wasn't until later that day where my heart and mind had to battle once again, because as I walked down to the basketball court, focusing on the sound of the ball hitting the bitumen road as it bounced, my best friend told me that she had invited them to meet up with us.

My heart instantly dropped to my stomach, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. I almost lost control of that stupid ball as I looked up from the road to see them walking down their street towards us. I couldn't help but whisper a; "damn it" as I quickly got ahold of the ball again, trying to ignore the raven-haired person who was now walking beside me.

After almost an hour of playing around with the basketball, and playing on the playground, and trying to pretend like I wasn't having an internal battle about my feelings, I couldn't take it anymore. I took one more look at them, and as my heart almost shattered, I turned to my best friend. "I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll meet you back at your house, yeah?"

My best friend protested at first, but I just looked at her, and she immediately stopped... obviously, the look in my eyes told her that I needed this. She offered to come with me, but I shook my head; "I need to be alone."

And with that, I took off, focusing on the way my feet sounded as my blue Converse hit the pavement instead of on the eyes that I could feel burning into my back. I stared at the ground as I walked; I knew exactly where I was going. My tree. I know it sounds silly to call a tree 'mine,' but in this town where I barely knew anyone and didn't know my way around, it was the only place I felt truly safe... so I called it my tree.

I went under the fence and crossed the slight creek and the paddock, only stopping once I found the big tree covered with millions of crawling ants; I didn't mind them, I wasn't scared of them crawling on me... rather, they comforted me, made me feel less alone and more at peace. They gave me something else to focus on.

As I stared at the ants, wondering where on earth they were going and exactly what they were doing, creating fictional stories about them in my head to cure my ever-curious mind, a sudden crunch of a stick pulled me from my thoughts. I felt my shoulders slump as I hesitated from looking up; I knew exactly what I would see... who I would see.

"Why are you avoiding me? I thought we were friends."

I sighed, looking up at them and into their stupidly beautiful blue eyes. I shook my head, not at what they'd said, but to try and gather my thoughts. "We are," was all I could come up with. My words made them frown, and I knew that I'd confused them.

"Then why does it seem like you don't want to see me?"

"Because I don't."

This made them pause for a few seconds, giving me a look of pure confusion with a hint of hurt. "Care to elaborate?"

I swallowed the ever-growing lump in my throat as I grabbed a stick, slowly breaking it into small pieces. I didn't want to explain myself because I didn't know how to without everything spilling out.

"Harper."

They sat beside me on my tree, causing my heart rate to pick up and my skin to erupt in goosebumps.

"I don't want to..." I hesitated briefly before continuing, "because I can't," I finished my sentence, refusing to look at them. "I can't see you because every time that I do, all I want is to kiss you, alright?" My words came out harsh, which hadn't been my intention, but sometimes that was the only way I could get my emotions out, with a sense of harshness and anger.

They opened their mouth to say something, but I quickly stopped them; "and before you say it, I know. Okay? I know." I swallowed the lump in my throat once again; "you have a girlfriend, and you guys are adorable together, and you guys seem super happy, and you don't have feelings for me anymore if you ever did, or maybe that was a misinterpretation, I don't know... but I still have feelings for you, and believe me, I really, really don't want to." My words almost mushed together as they spilled out of my mouth at a fast pace.

I could feel the tears prickling my eyes, but I really didn't want to cry in front of them, so I blinked them back and swallowed the sob that threatened to escape my throat before continuing; "because I have this amazing guy in my life, who likes me for me, and treats me amazingly most of the time, and who doesn't judge me, and who is waiting for me to be ready, and who is single and emotionally available. And a big part of me really likes him... and sometimes you leave my mind completely and all I see is him, and being with him, and loving him... but then somehow for some goddamn reason that I cannot figure out why, you pop back into my mind and just live there, for days, and it makes it so damn hard for me to see him, and want to be with him, and want to love him. As much as I hate it, there is a bigger part of me that likes you, and I have no idea why I still have feelings for you, and I really, really want them to go away because it's pathetic, and it's so unlike me. I mean, I've had feelings for people for long periods of time, but never this long... it's been nine months, and I still have feelings for you. I didn't even have feelings for my ex-boyfriend for this long. This isn't me, and I honestly can't tell you why I'm hung up over you; I just know that I am, and I don't want to be."

I threw the remainder of the stick into the empty creek below. "So no, I don't want to see you, because I can't... because I'm trying to move on from you, and I'm trying to only see himbecause he is good for me." I pause for a few seconds; "but whenever I see you, my heartbeat picks up in a way it doesn't with him, and whenever I see you, I want to say 'screw it' to everything and everyone and kiss you, which wouldn't be good for either of us, whenever I see you... all I see is an opportunity I missed out on and an opportunity I would leap at if I was given a chance. Whenever I see you, I forget he exists." I hesitate for several seconds, mulling over whether to say the next thing that fills my mind before thinking 'screw it' and letting it spill out of my mouth. "Whenever I see you, I wish that you and your girlfriend would break up, which isn't like me either... I never want people to break up. When I found out the guy I liked last year got a girlfriend, I didn't want them to break up; instead, I was happy for them. Even when I found out my ex got a girlfriend within under ten days of us breaking up, I didn't want them to break up, yeah I was pissed, but I never once wished that they would break up. But when it comes to you and your girlfriend, whenever I see you together, whenever you pop into my head, all I want is for you guys to break up, and I hate that I feel that way because it isn't me. I'm not the jealous type, and I'm not the hateful type, and I never ever want people to break up, no matter how much I like them. So no, Mollie... I can't see you, not right now, and maybe not ever again."

I stand up from my tree, my safe place, and wipe the single tear that had fallen from my cheek, starting to walk back up the small hill.

"Harper..." their voice makes me pause momentarily, and a huge part of me wants to turn around and hear what they have to say, but a bigger part of me can't bear to hear what it is that they're going to say.

"Don't... please, just don't. Let me walk away with at least a little bit of my dignity, okay?" My voice comes out in mostly a whisper, and as soon as I finish my sentence, I climb up the hill, leaving my feelings and emotions behind with my tree and in their mind.

#my writing #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #excerpts from my heart #excerpt from my life #aspiring author #author #shortstory #sad boi hours #original story #short story

[calaryssia]

exceptional | j.s.potter {three}

word count: 2158

November 13th, 

James sat in the infirmary, as the new assistant nurse was cleaning up his face. Grant was laying in the bed on the other side of the room passed out, as the main nurse was cleaning up his face. James still felt the anger inside his chest, he felt bad for Ara as she was currently getting interrogated by Mr. Longbottom about the fight since he was the one to find the three of them in the dungeons. 

After Grant threw that first punch, James was all in, enough to where he felt like he blacked out and was suddenly on top of Grant beating his face in.  Ara yells behind him for him to stop, James pulls back just as some arms come around his pulling him off of Grant.

“Your father won’t be very happy about this.” 

James had completely forgotten that they would contact his parents. He knew that his mother was out of the country for a quidditch game, so he knew that his father would be the one receiving the news, which wasn’t a good thing. He knew that his mum wouldn’t give him as hard of a time about it, but his dad was a different story. The last time that James had gotten into trouble, his father said that if it happened again he might need to make a trip up to Hogwarts. James sighed, not looking forward to the lecture he knew would be coming later today.

Currently, Ara was in Mr. Longbottom’s office as he asked her some questions about the fight. He made her as comfortable as he could knowing that she was a little shaken up from seeing the fight. He gave her a cup of tea to help calm her down, but she just sat there blankly staring down at the cup.

“Ms. Malfoy, I know this is hard but I need to know a few things about what happened tonight, or should I say last night considering it's now morning.” He looks over to the window noticing the sun starting to come up. Ara looks over as well, breathing in heavily, this whole situation giving her anxiety.

“I need to go see James.” She says quietly, looking back over to Mr. Longbottom. He sighs, picking his own cup of tea and taking a drink from it.

“I can’t make you talk to me, Ms. Malfoy. But, when you want to, I’ll be here. James is in the infirmary.” Ara instantly stands up, and leaves her tea on his desk before leaving and heading toward the infirmary.

James sees Ara run into the infirmary, and she looks around for him. Once, her eyes met his and she ran over to him, concerned across her face. “Are you okay?” She scanned his face noticing all the small cuts and bruises that littered it.

“I’m fine,” He patted the spot next to him on the bed he was sitting on, and she sat down next to him. “I’m sorry about all of this, I hope you didn’t get into trouble.”

“I didn’t. Mr. Longbottom just wanted to talk to me about what happened, but I didn’t really tell him anything.” James sighed at the mention of the teacher’s name, he did happen to be one of his father’s close friends when he went here, so he knew that he would send an owl to him this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really, it’s just that, my father will probably be making an appearance in the next hour or so.” Ara looked down at her hands that rested in her lap.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault.”

“No it’s not, Ara.” James bends down in front of her, so that she would look at him. “If Grant hadn’t been a complete jerk, we wouldn’t be here right now. We were having a good night, I wish it didn’t end this way.”

Ara nods at him, knowing deep down that he was right. This was Grant’s fault, he didn’t have to be in their business. At this moment, Ara realized how awkward it will be later today, news got around Hogwarts quickly and this would be the top story of the week. ‘James Potter and Grant Oscars fight over Ara Malfoy, who would have thought a Gryffindor would go for a Slytherin. Especially a Potter going for a Malfoy.’ Then the realization hit that, James’ father was coming up to the school.

-------

Harry wasn’t necessarily a strict father, he, himself was into mischief when he was at Hogwarts. But, he never liked the idea of fighting others unless he had to or if it was for the right reasons. In his fifth year, him and George had gotten into a fight with Draco after he said some fowl things about Molly. Fred would have joined in two if three people wouldn’t have held him back. Harry never wanted his temper to be transferred to his children but James was more like his father and his grandfather. To say Harry was a little upset when he got the letter from the school was an understatement, he immediately grabbed his coat and apparated to Hogsmeade.

James was still sitting on the infirmary bed, as Ara went to go get a snack before the Great Hall filled up with the rest of the students. His dad walked into the room instantly looking around for him, James sighs, glad that Ara had left when she did. Harry spots his son walking over to him, sitting next to him.

“So, firstly how are you?” He says, looking at his son with slight concern.

“I’m fine, Dad.” James sighs, making Harry realize that he wasn’t too pleased he had come to the school.

“Good, secondly, how is your brother and sister?” James looked at his father, he was expecting a lecture on how it was idiotic of him to get into a fight, but instead he asks of his siblings.

“They are fine. I don’t see Albus much but Lily seems to be doing well.” Harry smiles slightly, looking down at his feet.

 “How about Rose and Hugo, how are they?”

 “Fine, as far as I know, Lily hangs out with them more than I do. I’ve been occupied with quidditch recently.” Harry sighs, not exactly looking forward to his next question.

 “Was that what the fight was about? Quidditch?” James looks down, scoffing quietly.

 “No.” Harry sighs, looking at his son as James looks away from his father’s harsh gaze.

 “What was it about then?” As if on queue, Ara walks into the hospital wing, with a danish for James. James looks at her, with slightly panicked eyes, and his father turns to her. She still proceeds to walk toward James, not fully noticing his father right next to him.

 “I got you some breakfast, you were right about the house elves, they are quite nice. Especially when I told them you sent me.” She smiles, handing James the cherry danish to him. He took this moment to notice she was still in her dress from last night, but had his quidditch jumper around her shoulders so she wouldn’t get cold. He smiled back at her taking a bite of the danish before turning back to his father, noticing the expression on his face, ‘Are you going to introduce me?’.

 “Ara, this is my father.” James motions to Harry, as he holds out his hand for her to shake. She shakes his hand, smiling politely. 

“Ara Malfoy?” Harry asks, she nods, looking down slightly feeling kind of embarrassed that he had recognized her. “Sorry to hear about your mother.” She looked up at him shocked, but smiled at his niceties. She muttered a quick thank you before they were back in silence for a few seconds. 

“I’m going to go to my dorm, it was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Potter.” Ara nods to him, as she turns to leave the hospital wing, feeling more awkward than normal. As she walked into the halls she felt immediate regret as the students passed to make their way to breakfast, all while making quick glances at her making her feel insecure. The students talked in hushed voices as they passed her, she could hear some talking about the fight. She looked down as she got closer to her dorm, passing by other Slytherin’s that were scoffing as she walked by. Ara ran straight to her dorm room once she got to the common room, not wanting to be bombarded by questions about the fight last night from her peers. To her luck, no one was in her shared dorm room, making her sigh in relief as she took off James’ jumper, and changing out of her dress into something more comfortable. She lays his jumper on the end of her bed. 

She sits down looking down at the jumper thinking about all the people that saw her in it, surely the news has gone around the school by now that Ara and James were together last night at the party. She wondered if her brother would have told their father before she even got a chance to. She sighs, not sure what will happen tomorrow when she has to return to her class. Would James still talk to her? Or would they go to just being acquaintances and saying hello quietly when they see one another in the halls? These questions ran around in her mind, while the fact that Harry Potter was at Hogwarts at the moment and soon the talk of her and James will be hushed for the next few days to come.  She did wonder however, how was James?

James was now being walked back to the Gryffindor common room, by none other than his father, who had people turning heads toward them. Of course, he didn’t notice, due to the fact that his whole life has been like this. Even when he was at Hogwarts, he tended to be the center of attention, that’s what it’s like being the ‘chosen one’. James on the other hand, was noticing more head turns than normal. He was used to the fact of people staring at him, mostly in his first year, due to being Harry Potter’s son. Though he loves being popular, he doesn’t truly like why they are looking toward him. Because they weren’t looking at him, they were looking at his father. He would never admit it but, James always liked coming to Hogwarts because he liked being one of the popular guys. When he was with his father, mother, and his siblings, he always felt shadowed behind them. So here, at Hogwarts, he got to be his own person and not just Harry Potter’s son. 

“I would like to see your brother and sister before I leave.” James nods at his father, as the neared the portrait of the fat lady. “And I’m afraid I must write to your mother about this, she’ll want to know. Just expect a letter from her later in the week.” James sighs, saying the password, letting them into the common room, which Lily happened to be sitting in. 

“Dad!” She says, running up to her father, giving her a hug. “What are you doing here?” Lily slightly looks to her oldest brother, before taking a double back as she notices a few little bruises on his face, “What happened to you?”

“Got into a fight, it's nothing really.” James said, knowing that Lily does have this protective quality in her that she gets from her mother. 

“With who?” She says with an angry look across her face. 

“Some Slytherin, it wasn’t anything serious Lily, promise.” She sighs, looking down for a moment then back up to their father. 

Later that evening, James was up in his dorm laying in his bed looking up at the ceiling. His thoughts began to rome about Ara, he honestly couldn’t get her out of his head. She still had his jumper, and he smiled about it, hoping to see her in it again soon. He knew the rumors going around wouldn’t make her very happy, she seemed like the type of person that didn’t like all of the attention. Considering when she first started at Hogwarts, all everyone would talk about is her father and what he had done during the war. He sighed thinking about how his father had said her last name, how you could tell that brought back memories of her father. James didn’t know how the rest of his family would react upon hearing from his father that he was conversing with a Malfoy but he didn’t care. He started to realize how much he was starting to adore Ara. And he hoped she was feeling the same way. 

#James Sirius Potter #exceptional #scorpius malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader

[micahscowgirl]

Bite Me ~ Chapter 1

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Cussing

Word Count: 2802

This is my first post and my first story. I know it’s not the best ever and I know that there are mistakes, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope that y’all enjoy reading it. Sorry in advance... Micah has my heart on a rope dragging behind him. 

Chapter 1

You have been with the Dutch Van der Linde gang for just over two months. You hooked up with them in Blackwater after a run-in with Dutch himself. He saw your life for what it was: pointless. You were working as a "waitress" in a saloon. Bossed around by the owners and your pleasure-seeking customers. Life wasn't so great for you. Dutch pulled you out of it and gave you a new one.

It had only been a month since you had joined your new family when everything went south for the gang. A heist went sour. Everyone was frantic, packing the camp and running around like ants in their tunnels. Everyone seemed so accustomed to it, but it was all happening so fast, you had to step away to breathe. It startled you when Dutch put his hand on your shoulder and, in all this madness, he smiled. "Y/N, I know this is all happening very fast and you haven't been with us for very long, but we would all be grateful for you to join us on our journey."

You had become quite fond of your new friends, but Blackwater is where you spent your entire life. You were born there, raised there, abandoned by your parents, abused, worked as a whore, taken advantaged up, spent too many nights crying, sore, and broke... It wasn't as hard as a decision as you had thought it would be. 

"Of course I will join you and your Family, Dutch. I am a part of this now, too. This has become my battle."

He smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." He stood and began to walk off. A few steps away, he stopped and turned to face you. "Y/N,"

"Yes, Dutch?"

"This isn't just 'our' family, it's your family now, too." He turned back and walked away.

~~~~~~

It was a month now since the gang left Blackwater. Unlike the other women of the camp, you were treated differently. They all knew you were stronger, tougher than the others. Dutch saw it, Hosea saw it, and even Arthur saw it. After the terrible start of spring in Colter, they saw your talents. You had signs of a leader in you, but also a beast that would fight and steal and, overall, make the gang a whole lot of money.

That is why you are where you are now: sitting at a bar in Strawberry, drinking whiskey, and working with--or more like babysitting--the biggest asshole you know. Micah Bell. He is an overall twisted person, always picking and prying at people's skins, trying to dig out the worst in them. He was one of the few people in the gang that you didn't get along with--Pearson and Molly O'Shea being the other two. He would spend evenings stirring and twisting people up, trying to catch them on fire. He must get off on the idea of someone's brain completely blocked out by rage, almost to the breaking point. 

At the moment, he was playing cards with a few guys. No one at that table seemed to be enjoying themselves. They could've been shoveling cow shit and have been a little more enthused. Wearing frowns on all of their faces and fashioning cigarettes and shot glasses either in their hands or in arms reach. No easy conversations, just harsh glares. They're only playing for money, not for sport. 

After your second beer and third shot, you felt drunk enough to get a good night's rest in an unfamiliar bed. You paid for your drinks and room and made your way up the stairs. After pulling off your hat, shirt, holster, boots, and riding pants, it didn't take long for you to fall asleep when your head hit the pillow.

You were woken up just under an hour later by the sound of glass breaking and guns firing. Jumping out of bed, you grabbed your pistol and crouched on the side of the bed opposite the door, pointing it and waiting. After waiting what felt like forever, you could hear lawmen bringing the commotion to a halt. You stayed in your position a few minutes after the saloon had become quiet again, before standing up and sliding back in under the covers. You had seen your fair share of bar fights: fists, knives, and guns, and you knew the best way to handle them was to just stay out of the way but also remain alert. Keeping your gun closer this time, you managed to fall back asleep very quickly. If you dreamed, you didn't remember them.

~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to a beautiful stream of sunlight making its way into the room. After getting up and stretching, you slide back into your clothes and head out back to the outhouse. After relieving yourself, you made your way around the saloon to your horse. "Hey girl, how was your night?" you say, pulling an apple out of your bag and feeding it to your horse. You pull out your horse brush and begin to wipe away the past days’ grime from its brown fur. After making your way around to the other side, you see him. Baylock, Micah's horse, but instead of being hitched with yours like it was the previous evening, it was standing in front of the town's jail.

"You stupid son of a bitch." You say to yourself. As your brain starts to wash away the sleep and alcohol, you realize that he must've been part of the commotion in the saloon that past night. You mount your horse and begin to trot closer. You see two lawmen standing outside of the door.

"The man in green," --an O'Driscoll, you know-- "said the other guy wasn't in town alone." You freeze. "Says there was a woman with him. Or a girl. She was at that age it was hard to tell." You bow your hat and direct your horse in a different direction. As soon as you passed sight of the town, you kicked your feet and rushed your way back to Horseshoe Lookout. Thinking of your failed mission to find a lead, you realize that Micah has yet again found a way to make your skin burn and your fists tighten. He just had that special talent.

~~~~~~

It was a few days later when you heard that Arthur had broken Micah out, making quite a mess in the process. It was early morning, and you were helping Mary-Beth wash some clothes in a nearby stream when she told you what had happened.

"Micah just had to get his guns from some poor fool in town. Arthur says that Micah shot the guy immediately and then started shooting every lawman and even a few people who tried to get in the way of his escape." She chuckled. "I can't believe Dutch keeps Micah around. Nothing but trouble that bastard is."

"Yeah, and poor Arthur is always picking up his messes it seems." You say just as Arthur starts to walk up.

"Speak of the devil," Mary-Beth says. "We were just talking about how much trouble you are, cowboy." She has always had a thing for Arthur. You wouldn't be surprised if they'd hooked up in the past after a drunken night. If it hasn't happened yet, it was sure to one day.

"You know me, ladies, always picking fights and firing people up. I can't keep my guns holstered for two seconds without getting bored. Oh wait, that's Micah, the asshole that almost got me killed."

"How did that go, by the way?"

"Well, Y/N, I busted him out, broke the damn bars outside his cell, should've been able to get out with minimal casualties, but then our dear pal just had to retrieve his precious guns. We ended up shooting the whole damn town. Barely made it out of there alive. After we got out, he told me that he was going to hang back and try to get something to bring to camp. He called it a 'peace offering'."

"Sounds about right," Mary-Beth says as she drops the shirt she was working on into the basket with the rest of the cleaned clothes. You follow suit and stand, picking up the basket. 

"Here, let me grab that for you," Arthur grabs the basket from under your arm. "Don't need y'all doing all the work." He says with a wink. Mary-Beth giggles, you smile. "Y/N, Dutch wants you to head over to his tent. I think he might have a lead for you. Mary-Beth, I can help you hang these up." She happily skips off with him, turning her head to you to shoot you a smile.

Dutch is standing with Hosea in his tent. "If you could, Hosea, meet with Arthur later and discuss our next move. Speak with Bill as well, and I heard Uncle might have a lead, too."

"Will do, Dutch." He turns to leave, nodding at you as he passes. "Miss."

You return the gesture and walk up to Dutch. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I think I got a lead for you if you're not busy that is. A stagecoach hit, near Strawberry. I know you just returned from your trip there, but I think this will be a perfect job for you since you're so good at playing the part." He's referencing your innocent damsel in distress act. It's a classic, works every time.

"I'm not busy, wouldn't mind some fresh air away from the camp, that's for sure. Washing and mending clothes isn't really my thing."

"Then it's settled." He pulls out his map and tells you his plan. Payroll coach--should be easy enough.

As soon as Dutch is done, you say your goodbyes and head to your horse.

~~~~~~~

It was mid-afternoon when you arrived at the spot Dutch told you. You hitched your horse in the woods nearby and found a tree to sit next to while you waited. It would still be over an hour before it arrived so you figured you'd get comfortable. 

It had been about 40 minutes according to your pocket watch, the sun starting to go behind some hills in the distance. It was still early spring, so the sun set earlier than you liked. Keeping yourself occupied, you picked at the grass around you, pushed your boots around in the dirt, and watched some birds building a nest in a nearby tree. The tree started hurting your back, so you had scooted to sit criss-cross instead, imagining the native Americans sitting around their fires, beating drums, and dancing. They always seemed so happy, so at peace. So lost in thought, you didn't notice the steps behind you, snapping branches and dragging the dirt. It wasn't until you felt a presence inches from your back that your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't react in time; an arm grabbed your torso, locking your arms to your body. A hand covered your mouth. Your heart was racing, your body shifted, trying to loosen yourself, but the grip was too strong, your eyes began to water in terror. 

"Aren't you a little far from home, dollface?" the voice was deep, coming from lips right next to your ear, touching just barely. You shiver, chills running down your entire body. "A damsel like yourself shouldn't be out by herself, there are sick people out there that would just love to take advantage of such a tight, young body." The hold tightens, the strength is unreal, your body crumbles, moving closer to the ground. The weight on your back is too much. You feel tears running down your face. 

You try to say "Please. Leave me be." but all that comes out is a muffled noise coming from your throat.

The voice becomes lighter and immediately more familiar. "What was that, Y/N? I can't hear you. And are you crying?" He chuckles. 

It's Micah, that asshole. He loses his grip on you, letting you fall forward onto the ground, right into the dirt you were digging at what felt like decades ago.

"Micah... you bastard!" you wheeze. You gather the strength to push yourself from the ground. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"I should be asking you the same question. You shouldn't be out here by yourself. Especially if you're going to be stealing someone else's lead."

You looked up at him, the tears had drawn lines in the dirt on your cheeks. "You can have the damn coach. And you better not try to pull any shit like that ever again. Not with me, or anyone else." You get back on your horse and begin to ride away. "Fuck you, Micah."

"I'll consider your offer." He says as you trot away. You feel heat return to your face, and your eyes begin to water once more. 

~~~~~~

The next evening is when Micah made his return. The take must have been huge because everyone was celebrating, and most of them didn't like Micah just like yourself. Although, everyone always happily invites a reason to drink and pretend that everything in the world is good. While most of the camp gathered around the fire, you stood from a distance and watched with a beer in hand. Javier was playing his guitar and Uncle was leading the others in song. Micah sat with Dutch's arm around his shoulder, holding a conversation with him and Arthur. Arthur hated Micah about as much as you did, but the fact that he was keeping himself in the conversation for as long as he was, let you know just how great that stagecoach ended up being. That should've been your prize. 

Working on your second beer, your mind started to turn. You wanted revenge on him. There was one thing you could think of that would really make him pissed, and that was confusing him, playing with his head. Turning his own tricks against him.

After everyone had started to head to their tents, you knew that soon Micah would head out. He didn't have a tent, mainly because he suffered from insomnia, but also because Miss Grimshaw refused to make him one. The fire was getting dim now, but you could still make out his figure. Once he turned to walk into the trees, you followed. He claimed a tree to lean on about 50 paces away from camp. He was facing away, so you quietly made your way up behind him, stopping about five feet behind him. He lit a cigarette and started to smoke. 

"Where's my cut?" You say, making him jump, turning to face you.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N! You shouldn't go sneaking up on people like that!"

"You're one to talk." You walk a little closer to him. "Once again, where's my cut, Micah?"

"You don't get one, you didn't earn it."

"You might see it that way, but I think I did my part. I let Dutch know what happened to you. Although, thinking back, I believe I might have left out a part." He frowns. "Yeah, that's right! I left out the part where you were playing cards with a couple of O'Driscoll boys. Maybe I should fill Dutch in on the whole story." You smirk.

Micah laughs nervously, kicking at the ground. "You know Y/N," he starts moving closer, but you hold your ground. "you really are a little twisted 'damsel in distress', aren't you?"

"Why indeed I am." He's moved so close to you, you feel his heat and smell the whiskey on his breath. His blue eyes are looking straight into your soul, but you don't let him see it."Now, my cut?"

He sticks his cigarette in between his lips and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out 50 dollars and hands it to you. "There, for all of your hard work."

You count it. Slowly. Twisting his nerves. "Hmm... I think this is a little short." You look up at him and he snarls. You reach up and take the cigarette out of his mouth and place it in your own, taking a long draw. You release the smoke directly into his face. "There, that covers it." You pat his cheek. All he does is glare at you, hard. His chest is rising and lowering faster than normal. 

"Fuck you, Y/N."

"I'll consider your offer." You say with a smile and walk away. You feel his eyes on you, but you continue to walk. Out of everything that has happened, there is one thought that surfaces above the rest. When taking the cigarette from his lips, you noticed how surprisingly soft they were. You shake the thought away, and head back to your tent to rest, a smile staying strong on your face.

#micah bell smut #micah bell x reader #micah bell #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #smut #rdr2 fanfic

[jcmorrigan]

Valentine’s Day F/O Letter

For the event hosted by @nougatships​ and @megane-shipping​! I decided to write a letter to Giovanni Potage from EE because I am love him SO MUCH right now. Anyway, it got kinda long, so most of it will be under a cut.

***

Hi Gio,

             This is the first time I’ve ever really written anything of length to you. To any of the ones I love this way, really. Beginnings are hard. There’s so much I want to say, and I’m not sure where to even start. So let’s get the basics out of the way: how are you doing? Successful heists lately? Epic tales of villainy I simply must know about?

           I’ve been fine. Life’s boring, as usual. I would say I don’t even know how you put up with it, but I’ve seen your couch-potato side, so that’s not really a big mystery. I like that. I like that you’re equally up for breaking the mold with some adventure and just…kicking it. (Wow. That’s some old slang. When’s the last time anyone said “kicking it”? Me. Just now.)

           So as for the reason I’m writing this letter…I think it’s best if I just begin in chronological order. So you and I both know you’re not the only one in my heart, and I’m glad you respect this. There’s a time, a place, and an AU for you, and it doesn’t make you any less special. But I’m always stunned when I look back at how we met. The others, it took time to realize I loved them, and how much they meant to me. But you? You broke through that fuckin’ museum wall, and I KNEW you were my type. If you want the receipts, I have the Discord chat of when I was talking to my friend while watching you and screaming about how much I wanted to cuddle you. (LISTEN. I KNOW THAT WAS FORWARD. I’M SORRY FOR BEING A CREEP. SOMETIMES I’M A STALKER.) …Actually, the exact words were when my friend, knowing you were my type, said “If he were any further up your alley, he’d be at your house” and I said “He could come to my house anytime” and I’m sorry your girlfriend is such a creep.

           I haven’t felt that instant…fall that many times in my life. The last time I can remember it, it was for someone real. As in who originates in my world. I think you’ve figured out that sometimes, I compare you to him. That chase went on such a runaround…with men, my whole life after him, I’ve thought of them as goals to achieve. I got the attention of the hot one! Yay! Finally! Now he can love me and all of my little quirks, even though I’m super boring! And I’m not saying that’s incredibly wrong. I’ve made some good relationships that way, actually. (All fictional, of course.)

           But you…what struck me is how much I wanted to be with you for your sake. Not mine. Not to bandy about getting you to notice me, or playing the tsundere game, or worrying I’m not good enough. Sure, I like a slowburn and a good confession, but I really just wanted to be close to you because you made me smile. You had a good sense of humor, you have that unbreakable lighthearted confidence I adore…you’re a little bit of an idiot, but in the absolute best way possible (and you have emotional smarts where I don’t). And on that note! You’re one of the nicest guys I know! Even if you are the bad guy.

           Which was kind of the two-hit combo that slayed me. I have a villain problem. You know this. I know this. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. Some days, I want to be a villain, myself, and have the freedom to do what I want, take revenge on those I feel wronged me, take whatever my heart desires, just not have to live by the RULES anymore. But some days, I become acutely aware of my conscience. Could I ever be a real villain? Could I actually steal? Could I KILL? I think about the people I’d hurt, and I don’t wanna do that. I now know that depending on the situation, I can laugh with the sinners and cry with the saints. (Little Billy Joel for ya.) But with you, I know I don’t really have to…pick. You let me be me, and you let me have that freedom of just…doing bad things that are against the rules. And it feels AWESOME. But then, we never really take it too far, and we still have our friendships, our standards, our moral codes, our etiquette. Basically, you’ll let me be the good guy, too, and you’re just a sweetie pie. Some days, I need to toe the line more; some days, I need to shed blood. But you let me suspend in between, getting the best of both worlds.

           And all this is why I think…maybe you’re my favorite out of all of them. It makes me feel guilty to love you best when I’ve given my heart to two others, and who knows where it will stop? But it’s you I find myself thinking of most often. You who I’d have fun with. You who’d make me smile. You who I’d want to make smile.

           Also, I realized lately. I don’t get jealous over you, not like I thought I would. I like seeing you depicted with other partners, the Blasters or other selfshippers/OCs. I love when I meet someone else who had the good enough taste to fall for you! If you want to invite Crusher or Spike or anyone else you like to be part of this…I know you have enough love for all of us. We can all be happy together. Just say the word!

           Knowing you would support me emotionally no matter what is touching. I’ve relied on you for a lot. I’ve done scary grown-up government stuff while listening to your theme. I invited you to the crew that would go on that flight with me because I hate airplanes so much, and I knew you would give me amazing distraction-cuddles (though I suspect you, also, fear the airplane, and if I’m right about that, I admire you so much for not letting it show). There are times I…really hate myself, or feel worthless. Especially because I have so much trouble validating myself. But I know you’d just put a hand on my shoulder and tell me it’s going to be all right before inviting me to slip on some ski masks and pretty supervillain clothes so we can go hijack sugar cookies from the bakery. (Pink for you. You always have dibs on the pink ones! I haven’t forgotten! And blue for me <3)

           The adventures we’ve been on in my imagination…the walks around Twilight Town (YEAH YEAH I KNOW WRONG WORK OF FICTION), snuggling up in your knitted blankets (which are SO SOFT), making my villainess dress together, the first kiss on the rooftop, dancing like idiots, THE HEISTS…it all makes me really happy. You remind me that I don’t necessarily have to “grow up” to be a grown-up. And, I mean, I knew that, but you make sure I REALLY know that. (Speaking of which, don’t you love how if you add the two of us parents’-basement-dwellers together, you probably end up with one [1] functioning adult?)

           I also really have to thank you for being accepting of my asexuality. I’m always scared it will push others away. They say men only want one thing, right? And I am unfortunately attracted to men. Yaaaaay me. But there are big exceptions to the rule, and you’ve always been the one to say “Fuck gender roles!” I feel like when I’m with you, I never have to worry that you’ll be wanting something I can’t give you.

           In return, I will accept you no matter your body, your identity. I’ve run into a couple different takes on you, but they’re all you.

           I guess that brings me to the hard part of this. This is going public, so I don’t know how specific I want to get. But there was a very powerful force that suggested I couldn’t see you through my own eyes. That no one could do so. It almost tore us apart. I thought it was my moral obligation to let you go. I thought loving you would mean taking a stand on the wrong side and hurting my friends. I thought that what would happen is that every time I thought of you, I would be reminded of ugly truths and harsh realities.

           But after two days, I missed you so much. It was a good wake-up call to know this relationship wasn’t completely baggage-free, and it reminded me that I have many characters in my life who I want to give my attention, but it also proved to me that if I tried to let you go…I would have to physically push you away instead, and in the end, I couldn’t do it. I think back all the time to how good of a brother-dad-mentor-figure you were to Molly, and how you got worried about Fred’s astigmatism, and how I was sure you’d get along with so many of the characters who already made up my world, and how this spoke to your heart. Oh, and also, I needed your dumb ass to say loitering in front of a truck was a valid crime. (Please don’t ever loiter in front of a truck. I’m begging you.) I need you to show me how easily you shift from Grandma Mode to Knife Mode with your knitting needle, to be proud of the way you season your soup attacks, to keep making your own capes, to insist on the benefits of wielding a bat with a fucking knife taped to it, to jet your friends to safety when they’re afraid of such things as fire and traitor bears.

           Whatever comes of all that, I hope there can still be a space for us. You and me. And I’m confident it will happen, now. It already is happening. Because I know that you’d just want me to be happy, no matter where you fell on the issue that began it. And you love and respect my friends, too. I know you see us as our own little group of villains and co-minions and talk about us like we’re an evil team that has to take care of each other, and that’s…honestly so cute. Too bad I’m terrible at putting your words to work. Maybe one day. When I learn how to find the approval I seek without fighting it out of people. But I think that was the moment it went from a crush to actually loving you. When I saw how you would do that with Molly. With everyone. Make sure they knew how valid they were. I…feel bad that I haven’t been able to live up to this lately. Like I’ve failed you. But I can always try again, right? That’s what you’d want me to do! And I do improve on things every day. One day, the minion will surpass her villain (but still stay around with you because that’s what we do)! I hope I can support you in the same way – that when you have things that trouble your mind, that I can help you feel better and get you toward a solution to the problem.

           I know I’m safe with you, and I want to keep you safe, too. I know how much you’d put on the line to defend me, and I just want to protect you from all of the bad in your world – from snooty Vice Principals who call their armies to beat you up (I’m still SO SORRY you went through that!), from the law chasing you away from all that’s familiar, from all the insults and mockery that could ever come your way. I want to stand before you like a shield. To gather the troops of the other characters I know and form a protection squad around you. To make you smile. (Even if you are really, really cute when you cry. Look, I’m not gonna beat around the bush – I do love getting to comfort you. It SUCKS that you have to go through the hard times, but I like…being there. I hope that doesn’t make a sadist of me. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s an overreaction.)

           By the way, I’m kinda sorry for not ordering the lobster bisque at the pub in the airport. I was gonna because of you! But I chickened out! And that salmon I got instead was REALLY good, okay? But it’s a double whammy because I had JUST found out the soup place in the mall closed and I need to make up for this. There will be soup!

           (As of the most recent draft, I had a horrid stomachache last Sunday, and chicken soup was all I could eat for most of the day. I thought of you. Though yours would’ve been better than Campbell’s and we both know it.)

           Fun fact: you are dating a silly, sappy lady. I keep thinking back to this letter – I drafted it once, then went back and added things, and here I am saying I ALMOST mailed this without talking up your looks. Which is probably a good thing because it means I’m primarily with you for your personality, but everyone deserves to feel like they look nice, so here goes: I love your silly, sly smirk. I love your cute little fangies. I love your untamed pink hair. I love when I can see just how deep-pink your eyes are. I love how much of a beanpole you are, and how much taller you are than me (even if it does mean you can’t carry me bridal-style for more than thirty seconds). I love how innocent you can look, and how you can look the absolute OPPOSITE of innocent when you want to. I love the way your face lights up when you’re happy about something, or when you’re being cocky. I love the way you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and I can always see how you feel just by looking (I’m bad at body language and reading between lines, after all). Do not ever doubt that is one handsome man looking back at you from the other side of the mirror! Because I could just watch your smile for so long, unbroken, you don’t even know.

           Thank you for being you. Thank you for letting me be me. Thank you for the fact that we’re our silly selves and we can be grown-ups without growing up in the gray space between good and evil. I can’t wait to see you more – in your own story, where I’m not; in the story just for us, in our own little timeline; in the TBTCverse Twilight Town where we are hounded by complex crossover lore; in the beautiful art everyone draws of you; in any other universe that may bring us together.

           And someday, the time might come that we have to part ways romantically. I’m not looking forward to that. I’m really not. I hope it doesn’t happen. But someday, we might not have the chemistry anymore, or you might find someone better, or I might have to put more focus in what I guess is the “real world.” If that day comes, I hope we can still be friends and mean something to each other. Zucchinis/QPPs, preferably. But if we have to be more distant…just so that I can think of you, and you can think of me, and we’ll both treasure those memories.

           I love you, Giovanni. Or should I say “Boss”?

 Sincerely, with all my heart,

Rachel “Composer” Scribere/Inlustris

(P.S. I wasn’t sure which universe’s last name I should put, seeing as I obviously am not going to write my last name in THIS world, so there, have both the ones you know me as.)

(P.P.S. “If there’s a place that I could be, then I’d be another memory. Can I be the only hope for you? Because you’re the only hope for me.” ~MCR, “The Only Hope for Me Is You,” Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys)

#selfship #i'm at soup! #valentine's day f/o event

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Anons wanted an explanation for the placements I had on my previous tier list, but upon going back and looking it over, I realized that I wanted to move a few characters around, so I ended up getting a new template and remaking it. 

I wrote little bits about each character [yes, each one] below the cut, but be warned, it’s long. 

SS  

“I love you so much that I would sell my soul to make sure you’re happy”

Lee Everett: Lee is a goddamn legend. He deserves to be at the very top. He’s one of the best protagonists I’ve ever played as in a game, his backstory is incredibly interesting, and his relationship with and dedication to protecting  Clementine never felt forced and is one of the highlights of S1. Even now, having replayed S1 a million times, seeing him get bit and slowly become weaker and weaker as he refuses to give up on Clementine still breaks my salt encased heart. Watching him die in the end never fails to put that lump in my throat. I love him.

AJ: I love this kid. I was so worried that they wouldn’t do him justice when the game was announced and I saw the trailer, but I was floored by just how much I grew to love him. He feels like my kid, my responsibility and I want him to grow up strong and smart, but also human. His voice acting is terrific, and I think he’s one of the best child characters we’ve ever been given in video games. His relationship with Clementine rivals Lee and Clem’s relationship and that’s what I wanted. This kid earned his place at the top. 

S4 Clementine: This Clementine is my absolute favorite. While I love all the Clementine’s across the four seasons, I feel like she truly hit her peak in S4. I fucking love her, I’m proud of who she grew up to be, and seeing her journey to this point only solidifies that she’s my favorite. She’s strong and stern, but she has her softer moments with AJ and Louis/Violet, and what else is there really to say? She’s Clementine.  

Louis: ....Do I really need to explain this? I mean, c’mon. If you’ve been following me for a long time- shit, if you’ve only been following me for a few minutes, then y’all know how much I love Louis. I can say with 100% certainty that Louis is my favorite non-playable character across all four games. I’ve made numerous posts, answered over a hundred asks, written thousands of words about him. Everything about him from his character design, his personality, his traumas, his voice acting, his expressions, his relationship with Clementine and AJ and Violet and Marlon and everyone- He’s the best. I love him. 

Rosie: Rosie is the bestest girl in the world. ‘nuff said. 

S

“I fucking love everything about you.”

S1 Clementine: Alright, before y’all come at me with the whole “Why isn’t little baby Clem SS tier you monster??” let me explain: I adore S1 Clementine. She’s still in S tier, after all. However, after playing through these games several times over again, I realize that this really is just the beginning of Clementine’s character and her growth. She’s lovable, she’s cute, and I want to protect her, but she’s not... a compelling character? She doesn’t fully come into herself and develop a stronger personality until S2. Like I said, I still love her and I can’t deny the impact that she had on the characters and us players, but she’s not my favorite Clementine of the bunch. 

S2 Clementine: I fucking love S2 Clementine. I’d actually say that she’s my 2nd favorite Clementine. I give S2 a lot of well-deserved shit, but she is the high point of it all. Something about her character is compelling to me, like how she’s stuck with a bunch of adults who underestimate her yet want her to do everything for them and she just... is so done with it hahaha. But her growth is what it really does it for me. We went from little baby Clementine who whimpered at a small cut on her finger to a Clementine who fucking sews her own arm up, covers herself in walker guts with barely a flinch, can shoot a gun with great accuracy and take down walkers like they ain’t shit, and can survive and make her own decisions. Also, her instant connection with AJ is great. Love it. Love her. 

Javier Garcia: Yo, I love this beautiful man. This man is honestly the best part of ANF, and without him it would’ve been such a shitty game. I found his backstory as an ex-professional baseball player booted from the league for gambling a cool concept. He’s hilarious and charming, too. Honestly, he deserved a better game with better, y’know? The only reason he’s not SS tier is because of the writing and his nonsense with Kate when you don’t want to romance her. It makes it seem like he led her on and then was like “Wait nevermind lol” which is annoying, but other than that, he’s great. Love his relationships with most of the characters, and the ending he got was pretty good. 

James: I don’t talk about him as much as I should because I find James fucking fascinating. If they ever made a DLC or a mini-game for twdg, I want it to be about James and his journey in finding and joining the whisperers, his relationship with Charlie, and how he escaped them. His views on walkers, his survival and killing skills, his past traumas haunting his every moment for fear that he’ll revert back to what he was, his extreme pacifism that ironically turns violent- just what a cool fucking character. And while he has his wild moments [cave scene, anyone? “Oh ouch!” hahahahahaa] he’s still one of my favorites. 

Violet: Oh, Violet. She’s amazing. I love her so damn much. If there’s ever been a character that I see a lot of myself in, it’s her.... which is why I tend to be a little harsh with her sometimes, but I can’t deny that she’s one of the most well-written characters across the whole series. She’s not perfect [both she and Louis do have their tiny inconsistencies that I blame the writing for] but that’s a good thing. And while I don’t ship her and Clementine, I 100% get why a lot of people do. Their relationship is adorable and way more compelling than her previous relationship with Minerva. 

A

“I love you <3″

Carley: My beautiful girlfriend... you were taken away far too soon. Carley’s one of my favorite characters from S1. I wish we could’ve had more time to explore a relationship between her and Lee, but what we did get is enjoyable. She’s a badass, and I will always love the moment she tells Lilly off for being a little bitch, even though it results in her death. Not a day goes by where I’m not salty about that one. 

Molly: Molly’s a goddamn badass. She scales buildings like it’s nothing, she named her weapon Helga, and her backstory with Crawford and her sister is terrific. Also, she’s funny and I love her. That’s that.

Omid: This dude was literally a light in S1. He brought us some humor when we needed it [ “...You broke that dude’s face.” ] and his relationship with Christa was so sweet. Also, him and Lee bonding over being history nerds? Yes, please. It’s bullshit that he was killed off two seconds into S2 but hey... S2 had a lot of bullshit in it so...  Justice for Omid 2k19. 

Luke: *deeeeeeeep inhale* Big Brother Luke did not deserve that bullshit. Literally one of the best characters in S2 and y’all just.... did him dirty like that. And for what? To make room for Kenny and Jane? Bull. Shit. Luke was so damn good, and the only reason he’s not higher is because of what they did to him after ep3. He starts out so kind and supportive and seriously like a big brother character then SUDDENLY he’s stupid and “makes it” with Jane while walkers are trying to eat us and then he gets himself shot and then fucking dies and akjsjdlkjasdkjaslkjasdklerwedascasads- 

S3 Clementine: ...So, here’s where y’all will probably get pissed. S3 Clementine is my least favorite of the bunch. Don’t get me wrong, I still love her and she is still in A tier, but... how do I explain it? She’s in her 13-year-old, emo/angsty phase and it’s hilarious when it shouldn’t be. There are moments where I do become emotional for her, like when David takes AJ away and Javi hugs her, or when Gabe dies and she’s saying goodbye, or when she gets her first period, y’know moments like that! BUT... then we have moments where Javi goes to talk to her and she’s all “HAVING PEOPLE IS GREAT AT FIRST BUT EVENTUALLY EVERYONE DIES” or when she straight up shoots that guy who gave her faulty bullets OR WHEN SHE’S LIKE “IMMA KILL ME A LINGARD” AND.......... it’s too much for me! I can’t take her seriously when she’s this angsty, even when I understand why she is the way she is. Again, to reiterate, I still love her but in ranking all four Clementines, she comes in last for me.... and I can already hear the shit that’s gonna be thrown my way haha

Conrad: The most underappreciated character in S3 and it’s nonsense. Don’t come for me, but this dude is my favorite npc in S3. I love Conrad, and I wish we got more of him. He does have his own little arch if you keep him alive through the end. His grief over Francine is heartbreaking and his downward spiral that leads him to act out and threaten Javi, Clem, and Gabe so that he can get his revenge is wonderful. And btw, he does apologize for pulling the gun on them and makes up for it in the future. And y’know what moves him up into A tier? The moment you let him kill Badger. One of the best kills of the game. I prefer it over beating the shit out of Badger myself. 

Aasim: This boy is my son, and I’m sorry, but he’s really fucking cool. You’ve got this kid who was sent to Ericson for being a pyromaniac [according to Kent, it’s not actually mentioned in game] and grew into this guy who documents everything so that they’ll have a form of history to look back on and help not repeat mistakes. His banter with Louis is funny, and even though he gets fed up with Louis for not taking anything seriously, he still cares deeply about him given how he reacts when Louis loses his tongue. His crush on Ruby is adorable, too. I just love him, he’s great. 

Marlon: Now, originally I put Marlon in a lower tier [the “I like your role in the story” type of tier] but upon reflection I actually find Marlon to be a compelling character. He’s high on the list because of how well he’s portrayed. Marlon has some of the best voice acting across all the games. There isn’t a single moment where I don’t believe what he’s saying, which says something. There are moments where Clementine will say something and I go, “Really? That’s the take they went with? Okay...” but not with Marlon. For only being in ep1, he played his part really fucking well. I won’t defend any of the shit he pulled because it’s awful, but I understand everything he did. He is a coward, a sheep hiding in a wolf’s coat, pretending that he’s got everything under control and putting all the pressure of a leader onto himself and it eventually breaks him. I know they killed him off to further the plot and show how ruthless AJ can be as a child growing up in the world, but I wish he survived past ep1 so that we could really get into the meat of his character. I’ll say it: I love him as fake-friend-to-full-on-antagonistic-character and his role within the story. 

Mitch: I fucking love Mitch and the only reason he isn’t in SS tier is because of how goddamn dirty the writers did him. You give me this boy- this butterknife wielding, foul-mouthed, angry, hilarious, bomb-making boy and make me fall in love with him and THEN YOU KILL HIM OFF IN THE STUPIDEST WAY POSSIBLE. “Oh, lemme just run at the crazy lady with a knife and- OOF! It appears I’ve been throat stabbed bleh-”  I’ve complained about this since ep2, but lemme say it again: Mitch had so much potential to be an amazing character but never got the chance to because we had to add to the death count and make us more afraid of Lilly even though it didn’t do shit because it was a reaction kill rather than one made out of malice. 

Tenn: Tenn is such a tragic character for me. In my personal canon ending, he dies because he was “messing up again” and AJ shot him. This poor kid was so full of hope that the walkers would go away one day, he’s so genuine and never wants to hurt anyone, even if they’re trying to hurt him, and he’s so fucked up from seeing Minerva that he stops thinking and tries to go to her even as she’s being devoured right in front of him. Tenn is like this game’s Sarah, but done right. He deserved better, but he was a well-written character and I love him. His friendship with AJ was so sweet which makes it even more heartbreaking when he dies. Yet another terrific child character. 

B

“I like you and/or your role within the story”

S1 Kenny: This dude is such a chaotic topic. I feel like 90% of the fandom has an incredibly strong opinion on him, and of that 90%, 45% of people absolutely love him and if you say anything negative you’ll get a boat to the head while the other 45% loathe him. Then you’ve got the 10% who don’t have such strong opinions, and that’s where I fall. I like Kenny, and I like S1 Kenny more than his S2 counterpart. He has a great arch throughout the season regardless if you’re his best pal or not. He has some funny lines, some emotional scenes. I’ll never forget the first time I played the scene where Kenny’s crying over Katjaa’s dead body while Duck is laying against the tree on the brink of death. And I definitely will never forget the part where he finds the boy in the attic. Overall, I like him and what he brought to S1. 

Katjaa: She was really sweet and her death broke my heart. I don’t have too much to say about her, but I liked her a lot. She loved her family and met a tragic end. 

Ben: Fucking Ben, man. This poor kid. Another character with wasted potential. I’ve mentioned this plenty of times before, but I wish we could get an alternative ending where Ben was the only one who survived and became Clementine’s new caretaker. There was so much room for growth. He just wanted to help out but kept screwing up and it’s just.... sad. 

Christa: I’ll be honest, the first time I ever played S1, I didn’t like Christa. Something about her rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t care about her as much as I did Omid. However, the more times I replayed it, the more I grew to love her. She’s strong but sweet, and you can’t deny how much she loves Omid. And while I wish we did get to know what happened to her in S2, I can live with it remaining unknown.  

Chuck: As much as I like our guitar playing hobo friend who deserved so much more, I would probably put him a tier lower if it weren’t for the advice that he gives Lee on the train. Because of him, Lee stopped treating Clementine entirely like a little girl in need of protection and cut her hair, taught her to use a gun, and furthered their communication by building a plan together. Without Chuck and his wise hobo words, Lee might’ve fucked both of them over. Also, Chuck’s pretty badass with that shovel, he got a lot of chuckles out of me, but his death was off screen and disappointing. 

Andy St John: Okay. Okay okay okay. Andy. He is so high here [and so much higher than his mom and brother] because to me, he’s the scariest of the St John’s. Why? Because he’s the most normal-appearing of the three. He acts and talks like any normal guy would. He’s someone that I could see myself running into in real life. He’s so good at hiding how fucked up he is from everyone, unlike his brother who you can just look at and go “hahahahaha no thanks” and his mother who’s character design is just awful. I find him to be the strongest of the three, the smartest and the most dangerous. And the final fight between him and Lee is amazing. I love how you can be so furious with him that you keep punching him even after the prompt goes away and then his face goes all purple and swollen. Easily the greatest antagonist in S1.

Eddie: This dude is the best character to come out of the 400 Days dlc. End of story. 

 Alvin: He gave me a juice box and that automatically puts him here. Real great guy but we didn’t get too into his character. Wish we could’ve, though.  

Rebecca: She grew on me tbh. Didn’t like her in ep1 when she was being all pissy and all, but for the most part, she’s pretty good. 

Mike: I will forever wish the writers went through with the concept of Mike being one of the guys who attacked Christa because then he could’ve had a better character backstory. Regardless, I still like him. He’s pretty funny. 

Nick: Nick? Oh, you mean PURE WASTED POTENTIAL. I mean, they really did give us this super flawed but sympathetic and interesting character and kill him off-screen. They really did that. Honestly, S2 really pisses me off sometimes for the way they treated these characters. It all goes downhill once everyone escapes. Yeah, yeah, blah blah not everyone gets a meaningful death blah blah but y’know what? You can do better than that. I loved Nick and I was so excited to see what they’d do with him in the end but NOPE! Justice 4 Nick 2k19

Pete: What a good dude. He stuck by Clementine’s side even when everyone thought she was bit. Love him. Wish we saw more of him. 

Sarah: Ha. Ha. PURE WASTED POTENTIAL 2.0. What else needs to be said? This girl had the foundation for a great character but again, NOPE! I really liked Sarah! I wanted to teach her to use a gun to protect herself! The loss of her father fucking broke her and it was hard to watch but I wanted more and just ahaklsdjlaskjdlkakjaskjsaadkljas ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh-

Ava: Yo. Ava’s a fucking gorgeous badass. Really liked her and how she was sweet on Clementine. Also, it’s interesting that she stuck by David’s side like that. 

David: I have a lot of mixed feelings about David. On one hand, the complicated relationship between him and Javier is good, even if it’s a little bullshit at times. On the other hand, David’s an asshole.  But he’s a great antagonistic character. I do love that about him. The shit with him and Kate was a little annoying, but only because they didn’t ever elaborate on anything. On what level was the marriage fucked? Was it straight-up abusive? What happened to David’s first wife? Why did Kate and David get married in the first place? I got questions! But, like Javier, I think David deserved a better game with better writing. 

Jesus: This dude parkour kills walkers. Pretty fucking badass. 

Tripp: I feel like I don’t like Tripp as much as some people. I like him fine, but I know a lot of folks gush about him. I think he’s a good dude, a little pushy with Eleanor, but he’s loyal and strong. 

S2 Lilly: I fucking hate Lilly. I hate her so goddamn much. She pushes every wrong button with her bullshit “Where's our new recruits?? Lee would be so disappointed knowing he taught you all the wrong things! You’re one of my people now, Clementine” AND THE GODDAMN “Yes, Ma’am” SHIT. Nothing irks me more than every time someone from the delta acts like Lilly’s the baddest bitch and call her “Ma’am” I HATE IT AND I HATE HER. SHE KILLED MITCH. SHE KIDNAPPED MY CHILDREN. SHE DARES TO TRY AND HURT LOUIS LIKE HE’S NOTHING. AND I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT HER....... That being said, y’all are probably thinking “wtf if you hate her so much why isn’t she in F tier???” and that’s because no other antagonist in these games has ever gotten this strong of a reaction out of me. Lilly is a damn good antagonist. She’s not perfect, and there are definitely things I would change or add, but she does her job and makes me absolutely livid [yeah yeah I know ha ha ha ha] every time she’s on screen doing her bullshit. I hate her and that counts for something. She’s easily the best “villain” in the entire series. 

Ruby: I love my funny little hot-headed medic. Ruby’s amazing and I love her. 

Willy: This kid really grew on me. I thought he was weird and creepy at the beginning but I adore him now. His brotherly relationship with Mitch should’ve been explored more, and at times his voice acting is kind of jarring, but I still love him. 

C

“You’re fine, I guess...”

Duck: He’s fine. I like Duck. I like the “what if” scenarios we’ve come up with surrounding his character, and his death always puts a lump in my throat, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to say I love him, y’know?

Doug: Again, he’s fine. He has some funny moments when you save him, and he’s got a cool little panda bear on his sweater but... yeah. He’s okay. 

Mark: Oh hai Mark. He’s cool, and the reason he’s not lower is because the iconic moment of finding him in the hidden room with his legs chopped off choking out the words “Don’t... eat... dinner” forever haunts my nightmares. 

Russell: I’m not a big fan of most of the playable 400 Days characters, but I think if I had to pick a favorite, it’s Russell. His backstory of being with the group that believed in the power of 7′s [I think it was 7 I dunno going off of memory here] was cool and his weird thing with Nate was fun and disturbing. He’s a pretty cool character. 

Carlos: I’ve made posts about Carlos before and how I think he had a lot of potential, but looking strictly at his role in the game and I’m left underwhelmed. I did get a lot of shit for where I placed him in my previous tier because he was [and still is] above S2 Kenny but I’m not going to lie and say I like Kenny more than him because... I don’t. I just think Carlos should’ve been given more development.  

Carver: A cool antagonist who was defeated waaaaaay too early in the game. They were doing a fantastic job at making me hate him with his treatment of Clementine, beating the shit out of Kenny, murdering Alvin and pulling all that shit with Rebecca, but killing him off so quickly didn’t make it feel as satisfying. Again, underwhelming. 

Sam: This pup betrayed me and he ain’t no Rosie, but we played frisbee so he gets a C I guess

Gabe: Y’know, Gabe could’ve been so good. But every time I play through ANF, he ends up annoying me more than Ben. What does that tell you? He’s fine, but he could’ve been a lot better. 

Mariana: I’m not so much “meh” on Mari because I think she’s sweet and likable! The problem is I don’t want to put her any higher because really? What did she do? She died horribly because Badger’s a piece of shit. 

Abel: Meh this guy’s garbage. I only put him up a little higher because the scene with him in the basement is really good. 

Brody: Brody is like the Mariana of S4 for me, just a bit better. I do like her. She had some development but her whole purpose was to die by Marlon’s hand and get the plot going. Would’ve loved to learn more about her, but I couldn’t give her anything higher than a C. 

Minerva: Controversial opinion but........ I don’t like Minerva as much as a lot of people do. If I could be brutally honest, if I were ranking these characters solely on how I feel about them without looking at their roles in the games and character development, Minerva would be in E tier at the highest. However, I can’t deny how tragic and complex her character and backstory is. It’s similar to how I feel about Lilly, but different. I think she’s just so fucked up from the delta that she’s become a husk of who she was and it results in her constantly pissing me off with all her shit. Also, the bridge scene alone bumps her up. That shit was crazy in a good yet tragic way. 

Omar: At one point, I forgot Omar existed until he got shot in the leg...... but he’s also God so y’know. I like him but I also had to make up my own little backstory for him so...

D

“Meh”

S1 Lilly: I don’t care about S1 Lilly in the slightest, she’s awful. They made her way more compelling in S4. And she killed my girlfriend which is bullshit on it’s own.

Jolene: If I could rewrite S1, I would’ve thrown out the Stranger and had Jolene be the kidnapper. As Danny said, “What a waste.”

Bonnie: She’s pretty disappointing, tbh. I didn’t like how the game help pushing her onto Clem and overall she’s pretty forgettable. 

Vince: He’s okay, I guess. He killed a dude one time. And shot a guy’s foot off.

Wyatt: “Meh” hahaha Eddie was a cooler character than he was

Jane: I wish Jane had been the Molly of S2 and stayed gone after she left the first time. I like that she taught Clementine some useful survival tactics and that’s what puts her on this tier, but I think we all know how I feel about the whole Jane vs. Kenny thing by now so... 

S2 Kenny: This Kenny actually moved up a tier because I fully took in everything he’s been through thus far and.... “Meh.” I don’t think he’s good for Clementine, I think she and AJ need a group like Wellington. I recognize that he’s a lot of people’s favorite, but like I said above in his S1 counterpart, I’m the 10% that doesn’t have that strong of an opinion on him. I’d much rather discuss other characters over him. 

Sarita: Forgettable, really. Except for when you get the chance to cut her hand off. That fucking scream of hers is anything but forgettable, yeesh. 

Walter: Again, mostly forgettable. His death was sad, and I do think he’s a good example of what happens when you’re too trusting in this world, but overall he doesn’t stand out to me. 

Kate: I probably would’ve liked Kate more if her romance wasn’t so damn forced. She has some funny lines, but she’s also pretty selfish and fickle when it comes to a lot of things. And I will forever be annoyed at her inability to keep her mouth shut about her and Javi’s relationship [or lack of] in front of David. 

E

“I don’t like you but you’re not the absolute worst, I guess...”

Danny St John and Brenda St John: I put these two together because they have the same issue: They’re fucking creepy. Where Andy was normal and deceiving, these two look like they want to cut my legs off and eat them. I think they’re much weaker in character than Andy was, even with Danny’s weird sexual fixation of his gun and Brenda talking about her husband. 

Vernon: He’s not the absolute worst because I do feel a little sympathy for him losing his daughter, but everything else just makes me not like him. 

Shel and Becca: Easily my two least favorite characters in 400 Days. I had no real interest in either of them. 

Arvo: This guy. I didn’t put him in as the absolute worst because of all the unnecessary shit Kenny put him through. No wonder he wanted to get the hell outta there. 

Clint: I literally couldn’t give a single shit about this dude or what happens to him. 

Eleanor: I don’t like Eleanor. I found her annoying. Her one good quality is her want to help people, but that want didn’t do much to help Tripp now did it, Eleanor.

F

“The absolute worst”

Larry: Did you expect anything else? Fuck this guy. 

Stranger: Worst final antagonist ever. You’re telling me I have to fight this Mister Roger’s tootsie pop? I’ll bet you $1 I can do it with one hand. Fuck this guy. 

Troy: Fuck Troy. All he does is smack Clementine around and then get shot in the dick. 

Joan: This lady is a laughably bad antagonist. The worst fucking “villian” jfc...

---

There ya have it. Do you agree, disagree? Maybe a character I found boring you really liked! Maybe you want to tell me why Kenny is the best/worst again!  We can discuss it. 

I’m always open to talking about these characters!

#twdg #twdg lee #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg louis #twdg rosie #twdg javier #twdg violet #twdg tenn #twdg carley #twdg molly #twdg omid #twdg conrad #twdg aasim #twdg mitch #twdg willy #twdg ruby #twdg marlon #twdg brody #twdg omar #twdg lilly #twdg david #twdg gabe #twdg mariana #twdg kenny #twdg katjaa #twdg duck #twdg mark #long post #very long post

[willsherjohnkhan]

The English Savage

Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening

***

SOMEWHERE DEEP IN THE JUNGLES OF SARAWAK - BORNEO

Molly’s eyes fluttered open, still feeling like she was emerging through a foggy haze. Her mind filled with images she was unable, or unwilling to process.

“Now that you’re awake, perhaps you’d like to explain what it is you’re doing back here?” the baritone voice snapped with undisguised irritation.

Molly bolted upright, the sudden movement causing her head to spin.

Or maybe the curly haired man with piercing blue/green eyes standing over her wearing nothing more than a purple loincloth was the cause.

***

Chapter 2: Into the Unknown

***

LONDON – TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Molly Hooper checked her bank balance once again, and winced. It wasn’t that doing a medical degree and student debt didn’t go hand-in-hand. But it was clear her savings, such as they were, were in desperate need of a cash injection. And the types of jobs she usually took on over term break were not going to cut it.

Scrolling through an Employment Agency’s online job listings for temporary positions, one advert in particular caught her eye.

WANT AN ADVENTURE?

Intrigued, her eyes skimmed through the details and requirements of the position:

Proficient with analog camera... Bring own equipment... Valid passport... All travel expenses paid... Generous pay... Apply to K. Riley on...

Not giving herself time to think things through, Molly grabbed her mobile and entered the number given.

After two rings the phone was answered, “Kitty Riley.”

“Hello, my name’s Molly Hooper. I’m calling about the job advertised on...”

***

KUCHING, SARAWAK, BORNEO – TEN DAYS EARLIER

From the moment she knew she had the job, and her employer, none other than Kitty Riley, the renowned freelance investigative journalist, Molly had done her best to get to know Kitty Riley a little. But Kitty made it clear this was a business arrangement only, she wasn’t looking to make friends.

‘Fair enough,’ Molly thought to herself. So instead she tried to find out more about the assignment that had brought them here.

“So how was he discovered?” Molly asked, genuinely curious.

Kitty didn’t respond immediately, she preferred to keep such details of her investigations close to her chest. But seeing how eager Molly was she eventually relented giving a few scant details. “A couple of environmentalists were in the jungle to assess the effects of climate change on the rainforest,” she replied.” And they apparently just stumbled upon him.”

“Wow!” Molly breathed. “Who would believe Tarzan really exists.”

“Who,” Kitty queried, clearly confused.

“You know, Lord Greystoke. Tarzan of the Jungle, the character created by Edgar Rice Burroughs,” Molly explained. When Kitty still looked at her uncomprehendingly Molly muttered, “Never mind.”

*

While Kitty went out to meet up with the two young men she’d made contact with to be their guides, Molly took the opportunity to leave the hotel and meander along the Kuching Waterfront esplanade that included a number of food stalls and restaurants.

After awhile she found the humid climate a little overpowering after the cooler weather of London, and gratefully sank down on one of many benches, all of which had excellent views of the surrounds.

*

Returning to the hotel just as the rain began falling heavily Molly found Kitty in the company of two young men who were introduced as Umar and Zikri

*

During the week they spent in Kuching they bought supplies that included not only camping gear and a well stocked First Aid kit, but also a number of gifts, to bribe any Natives willing to give information on the whereabouts of the Englishman.

The time was also used so that Kitty and Molly could acclimatise themselves to the weather.

Kitty spent her free time focussing on the assignment, double checking her notes, and checking to see if any further information had become available before they headed out.

Molly spent time getting to know Umar and Zikri who were students like her, but their interest lay in becoming Ecotourism Operators. They were using this opportunity as a trial run of sorts into what they hoped to do full time once they’d raised enough money.

***.

SARAWAK RIVER – THREE DAYS EARLIER

The only way to reach the area where the Englishman was reportedly seen was by boat, and then on foot.

It sounded easy enough, but Molly soon learnt it was anything but.

They had started off using a reasonably large and comfortable boat, but the further they travelled into the forest the river narrowed becoming no more than a stream, from where dense foliage encroached. This meant their only option was to change to the more traditional ‘prahu’.

But the going was continually slowed due to fallen trees that either blocked their way completely, with the only way to get past was to cut through them using machetes, or shoving those that hadn’t completely blocked their path out of the way.

And then there were rapids that had to be looked out for.

Pulling over to the banks and getting out so they could make their way on foot to the various villages along the way were also hazardous with steaming patches of marsh and mangrove swamps.

A dizzying array of vocalisations that included cries, calls, hoots, and howls from animals and birds, intermingled with the shrill, high-pitched trilling of various insects followed them wherever they went, whether on water or land. And though Molly kept a sharp lookout she rarely saw the creatures themselves.

The further they travelled through the jungle, two things became increasingly clear; the Englishman most definitely did exist. And he moved about constantly, staying with each village for only a few months, and sometimes only a few weeks.

***

DEEP IN SARAWAK JUNGLE – THE DAY BEFORE

They finally reached the village of another Ulu Tribe, this one quite possibly at the deepest heart of the jungle. Umar and Zikri had begun to make some enquires when without warning the atmosphere became charged.

Molly looked around to see what had caused the change. And then she saw what, or rather whom. For making their way down the rough ladder from the longhouse was a tall, curly-haired, lithe-framed man dressed in a ‘chavat’, (loincloth).

As soon as the Englishman reached the ground and turned to face them, Molly let out a gasp of recognition, for standing right in front of her was the famed ‘Hat Detective’ himself, Sherlock Holmes.

Barely glancing at Molly and the two guides, whom he immediately dismissed as unimportant, Sherlock turned his gaze on Kitty. Molly noted immediately how his body stiffened with recognition. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a sneer as he glared at the reporter with utter contempt.

**

THE OLD BAILEY – MEN’S TOILETS – TWO YEARS AGO

Sherlock was just finishing washing his hands, when he glanced up and saw the reflection of a young woman standing behind him.

He turned to face her. “Wrong toilet,” he stated.

“There’s all sorts of gossip in the press about you,” she began. “Sooner or later you’re gonna need someone on your side,” reaching into her pocket, Kitty retrieved a business card and tucked it into Sherlock’s breast pocket, “someone to set the record straight.”

Sherlock gave the young journalist a smile that never reached his eyes. “And you think you’re the girl for that job, do you?”

Eager to impress, she responded. “I’m smart, and you can trust me, totally.”

“Smart?” Sherlock nodded, “okay, investigative journalist. Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see,” he challenged her. He gave her a moment to begin. When she didn’t, he continued. “If you’re that skilful, you don’t need an interview. You can just read what you need.”

Still no response, in fact Kitty was now looking a little awkward, like she’s been caught out.

Which she had, and Sherlock knew it. “No? Okay my turn.” He began pacing around her, looking her over, before starting his deductions. His words spoken rapidly are harsh and to the point. “I look at you and I see someone who’s still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You’re wearing an expensive skirt but it’s been re-hemmed twice, only posh skirt you’ve got. And your nails, you can’t afford to do them that often, I see someone who’s hungry, I don’t see smart, and I definitely don’t see trustworthy. But I’ll give you a quote if you like – three little words.”  

He deftly removed her Dictaphone from her pocket and raised it to his lips, slowly, and deliberately he said. “You...repel...me.”

**

DEEP IN SARAWAK JUNGLE – THE DAY BEFORE

“So?  Not dead then.” Kitty smirked, looking like the cat that had caught the canary.  

Unimpressed by her incredibly obvious deduction, the former Consulting Detective responded, “Clearly,” making no attempt to 

***

Chapter 3: The 'Not Dead' Detective

***

DEEP IN SARAWAK JUNGLE, BORNEO – THE DAY BEFORE

The two adversaries stood glaring at one another. Abruptly Sherlock turned to a man who was clearly the tribes Chief, speaking with him in a local dialect.

The Chief listened carefully to what Sherlock told him, and then turned to the men of the tribe and began issuing orders that were followed out immediately.

Molly, Kitty and the two guides found themselves being moved on none too gently. They were being driven back in the direction from which they had come.

When Kitty made to force her way back, one of the men raised a blow pipe to his lips.

“No miss,” Zikri implored with some urgency. “The poison is deadly. And he will use it if you continue to ignore the wishes of their chief, and the white man.”

Kitty backed off and turned with obvious reluctance, and headed towards where they had set up their camp. As she moved off, she made it clear that she wasn’t giving up. “I will get my story, Sherlock Holmes. Not the one I was originally going to write. Now I have something far better.”

*

When satisfied that the unwanted visitors were at least temporarily on their way, Sherlock made his way over to his hut. Inside it was basic and very primitive compared to his rooms at 221B Baker Street. But he had done his best to make it feel like a home. He’d made a table and chair, and there was a small cabinet that contained notebooks, pens, his mobile, passport and a few personal items.

He sat down on his simple bed.

Of all the people to track him down, it had to be Kitty Riley.

The young reporter had, not surprisingly thanks to his harshly expressed opinions concerning her abilities and her trustworthiness, developed quite the chip on her shoulder where he was concerned.

He on the other hand had immediately erased her from his memory the moment he had exited the men’s toilets.

At the time he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Sherlock shifted so that he now reclined on the bed. With his palms pressed together and resting under his chin, he slipped into his Mind Palace to retrieve, and go over the events that had ultimately led him to become a wanted man.

**

THE OLD BAILEY – TWO YEARS BEFORE

His brief encounter with Kitty Riley had taken place just as he was about to appear as the star witness in what he would regard at the time as the most important case of his career.

Sherlock focussed all his energies on making certain that his testimony ensured that James Moriarty went to prison for a very long time.

But he should never have underestimated such a criminal genius. With all the resources at his disposal it was a simple matter for the Napoleon of Crime to get to the jury, thereby guaranteeing their ‘Not Guilty’ verdict.

Sherlock knew from that point on he would be Moriarty’s next target. But what he hadn’t anticipated was the turn of events as they played out.

The image would forever be seared into his brain.

***

BARTS HOSPITAL ROOF – SIX MONTHS LATER

Moriarty believed that he had managed to discredit the Consulting Detective in the eyes of his family, friends, Scotland Yard and the public in general. All he needed was for Sherlock to fall to his death, proof of his acceptance that his reputation had taken a dramatic fall from grace.  

Except Sherlock was equally confident that he had secured Moriarty’s infamous Key Code, and that with it he would be able to restore his reputation that the criminal mastermind had so ingeniously dismantled over the previous 24 hours.

But then Moriarty had informed him that the Key Code didn’t exist, and that what Sherlock had was nothing more than a movement from Bach’s ‘Partita Number One’.  If he was ever going to reinstate his reputation he was going to need Moriarty, and then to Sherlock’s horror Moriarty pulled out a gun and used it to blow his own brains out.

It was suicide, plain and simple.

But his confidence in the judicial system would be severely put to the test when he was arrested, and charged with Moriarty’s murder.

***

THE OLD BAILEY – TWO MONTHS LATER

The irony that he should now find himself standing in the docks was not lost on Sherlock.

The Prosecution had a field day. They played upon the animosity and contempt Sherlock had displayed towards Moriarty during the late criminal masterminds trial.

And then there was the cleverly tampered with CCTV footage that showed an altered version of the final confrontation between Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty.

***

CCTV FOOTAGE

“Here we are at last --- you and me, Sherlock, and our problem – the final problem,” was Moriarty’s greeting as Sherlock joined him on the roof.

*

“You’re ordinary, Sherlock, You’re on the side of the angels. Because as long as I’m alive, you’ve got a way out” Moriarty taunted smugly.

“Oh, I may be on the side of the angels,” Sherlock responded. “But don’t think for one second that I am one of them.”

Sherlock then began to circle his opponent. “I am you,” he stated. “Prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won’t do. You want me to shake hands with you in Hell? I shall not disappoint you.”

*

Then the footage showed Sherlock grabbing hold of Moriarty’s hand, while reaching into the inner pocket of his Belstaff and pulling out a gun which he forced into Moriarty’s mouth.

The footage was purposefully frozen at that point by the court, but not the audio of the ominous sound of the gunshot that ended James Moriarty’s life.

The footage was restarted at the point where it showed Sherlock standing over the body, the gun still in his hand.

***

THE OLD BAILEY

If that hadn’t sealed the detectives fate, than the testimony given by Moriarty’s partner-in-crime, and Peer of the Realm, Lord Sebastian Moran, who claimed to have witnessed the whole thing, and had called the police, was enough to absolutely guarantee it.

Sherlock knew Moran was a traitor. He’d been working for North Korea for a number of years, but he had never been able to gather enough information to prove it.

And not even Mycroft dared to intervene in the judicial proceedings, reluctantly having to allow the events that were set in motion to take place.

The case was a stitch up, and no surprises Sherlock was found guilty.

The press of course had a field day, and even Kitty Riley managed to get her two pence worth in.

***

Although Mycroft had been unable to do anything during the trial, he had come through after Sherlock made his daring escape for freedom.

He had secured Sherlock on a flight out of England, under an assumed name.

And was instrumental in advising the press about this bid to escape justice, giving them details of the flight that was ultimately doomed to crash, killing all on board.

**

DEEP IN SARAWAK JUNGLE, BORNEO

Sherlock emerged from his Mind Palace, and sat up.

With Kitty’s taunting words still fresh in his mind, and despite the humidity, the former detective felt chills run up and down his spine.

‘Was there no end to this nightmare?’

***

Chapter 4: The Ugly Side

***

DEEP IN SARAWAK JUNGLE, BORNEO

Molly rushed to catch up with Kitty who was ploughing through the jungle vegetation, her anger building with every step she took.

“So, you and Sherlock Holmes – you have history?”

Kitty gave an unladylike snort, then acknowledged. “You could say that.”

Molly’s expressive eyes widened, did Kitty mean...?

Seeing the look Kitty shuddered. “God no. He’s definitely not my type.”

“So?  What then?” Molly pressed.

Kitty came to an abrupt halt, turned and appraised Molly suspiciously. “Why do you care?”

“Just curious,” Molly responded honestly. “I mean it was pretty obvious that there’s quite a bit of animosity between you. So what gives?”

“He humiliated me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Why? Because he could,” Kitty responded bitterly. “When I was starting out I’d hoped to get a big scoop by doing a story on him ‘The Man Beneath the Hat’. But he refused, and then he tore me to shreds with his ‘deductions’. He made it clear what he thought of me, and my abilities.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ever since then I’ve worked hard to establish myself and prove him wrong. It wasn’t easy,” the bitterness was building up again. “Every newspaper and magazine editor had heard about how ‘the great detective’ viewed me, and wouldn’t give me the time of day. So, unable to get the type of position I wanted, I decided to go freelance. I worked damned hard,” the bitterness was now replaced by pride and a sense of accomplishment. “And eventually, little by little that hard work paid off.”

Molly was impressed, finding Kitty’s determination and work-ethic admirable. Most people placed in a similar situation would have given up. “Then maybe you should thank Sherlock Holmes for making you push yourself as hard as you have,” she suggested.

“Oh I’ll thank him all right,” Kitty replied, her tone dripping with malice. “I’m going to write an article that will ruin him for eternity.”

“You’re not serious,” Molly gasped horrified.

“Oh I’m deadly serious,” Kitty returned her expression smug. “I’ll make him regret the day he met me.”

“So that’s it, is it?” Molly asked. “Instead of writing an incredibly enticing article about how and why a man from England would choose to live as a native, you’re going to turn it into a sensational expose’ in a pathetic attempt to exact your revenge.”

“He deserves it!” Kitty spat becoming defensive.

“Why? because he hurt your feelings? If your skin is that thin than you’re clearly in the wrong line of work.” Molly retorted.

“He’s a convicted murderer, and a wanted man who faked his own death.”

“Then make your story about why he would go to such lengths. There might be more to the story than what was reported in the press,” Molly argued.

Kitty shook her head adamantly.

“Why not,” Molly asked becoming increasingly exasperated with the journalist.

“Because it wouldn’t make as much money,” was the petulant response.

Kitty stomped off, the guides trailing behind her.

“I’d keep up if I were you Molly Hooper,” the journalist called out. “There are plenty of predators out on the prowl in the jungle. Don’t want to get gobbled up do you.”

*

Despite the warning, Molly stayed behind. She needed time to think. Finding herself a comfortable spot to sit, she settled down and pondered the details as she knew them of the case that had so decisively destroyed the famous detective’s career.

It was clear to her that what had been reported in the papers could not be fully believed. The press had for many years made a handy living reporting on the extraordinarily remarkable abilities of the World’s Only Consulting Detective. They had further improved the sales of their papers and the like by running all sorts of stories about the ‘Hat Detective’, always able to find someone willing to sell their story that would give a usually erroneous account of the detectives personal life.

Sherlock’s refusal to be interviewed was ultimately going to lead to the press turning on him, and Moriarty’s murder was the perfect opportunity.

Molly had always admired Sherlock. But had felt he was out of her league, intellectually and physically. He was tall and gorgeous while she was short and plain. He was enigmatic and gifted, while she by comparison was down to earth, and practical.

This hadn’t stopped her from dreaming of one day getting the opportunity to work with him. It was for this reason in part that she had decided to specialise in Pathology.

Molly’s thoughts next turned to more recent events, concerning a group of sceptics that were making a lot of noise claiming that the case against Sherlock may not have been so cut and dried as first thought.

The Empty Hearse had been established by Phillip Anderson, former Head of Forensics at Scotland Yard. He had never been a fan of Sherlock and his methods, mainly because the consulting detective self-assured ability to consistently see the clues that enabled him to solve the cases that left the police force and the forensics team scratching their heads. Phillip had found it galling that they were always being upstaged by someone he regarded as a mere amateur.

But with Sherlock’s death, and rumours beginning to circulate that he had in fact been right about the tampering of the CCTV footage, Anderson became consumed with guilt. And so as part of his self-appointed penitence, he had established The Empty Hearse so that he and other like-minded people could discuss and investigate any clues that could at least prove the late detective’s innocence.

So caught up in her thoughts, it took Molly awhile for the sounds of a commotion taking place at the campsite to penetrate. With great reluctance she got to her feet and headed over to see what the cause of the ruckus was.

***

CAMPSITE

The sight that greeted her was truly horrifying. The two guides, Umar and Zikri lay dead, their throats cut.

“Molly! Run! Get away from here.”

Molly turned to see Kitty Riley struggling to get out of the grasp of two men who held her securely as they dragged her towards their boat moored close by. Movement behind her alerted her to the fact someone was behind her, turning Molly saw a third man making his way determinedly towards her, a bloodied knife in his hand.

With a quick last look towards Kitty, Molly bent down grabbed a handful of earth and threw it in the eyes of the man approaching her.

“Don’t worry about that one. We’ve already got what we came for.”

The heavily accented words barely registered as Molly fled as fast as her legs could take her into the untamed jungle.

***

ULU VILLAGE

Sherlock was restless, unable to settle to his usual routine. The arrival of Kitty Riley had unnerved him.

He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit here and wait for the authorities to come and arrest him. He needed to make some sort of deal with the journalist.

Knowing full well that it was likely going to be a fruitless exercise, didn’t stop the former detective heading off to where he believed would be the most likely location for where she would have set up camp.

*

He had not gone far when he his ears, sharpened by his time in the jungle, heard the distinctive sound of someone moving swiftly towards him.

Moments later the young woman with long brown hair who had accompanied Kitty emerged through the undergrowth. Fear was driving her forward, causing her to not pay attention to where she was going, with the inevitably result that had her slamming right into him.

Molly looked up, relieved when she recognised the man before her. She managed to gasp out, “Oh, thank God I’ve found you,” before collapsing in a dead faint at his feet.

Left with little other option, Sherlock bent down and gathered the unconscious woman up into his arms, and carried her into his hut.

***

Chapter 5: An Unforeseen Complication   

***

ULU VILLAGE – SHERLOCK’S HUT

“Now that you’re awake, perhaps you’d like to explain what it is you’re doing back here?”

Molly bolted upright, trying her best to ignore the sight of the scantily dressed man who was currently glaring down at her.

And then she remembered why she was there: The guide’s lifeless bodies, Kitty struggling as the men dragged her away. And her frantic instructions for Molly escape. Because Kitty knew if Molly could get back to the Ulu tribe, Sherlock Holmes would be the only person who could track her down. It was this thought that got Molly to her feet

But as soon as she stood up a wave of dizziness assailed her. She shook her head to clear it, she needed to remain focussed time was of the essence.

With no concept of how much time had passed she queried urgently. “How long was I unconscious?”

“A few minutes,” Sherlock replied, his eyes scanning her face, and taking note of the tension in her features.

Molly moved towards the door of the hut. “You have to come with me,” she instructed with surprising force.

“Oh do I indeed,” Sherlock’s irritation was clear. “And why is that exactly?”

Molly noted the way his eyes narrowed as his lips tightened into a determined line. She didn’t have to be a detective to see the distrust in his expression. And in all honesty she couldn’t say she blamed him. She was after all in the employ of a woman who had made a lot of money from writing half truths and outright lies about him, and had done her part in helping to ruin his reputation and his life due to the whole Moriarty fiasco.

But she knew she had to find a way to convince him to come with her to the campsite, only then would he see for himself that she truly did need his help. She turned back to the former detective who remained standing by the bed. “Because you’re Sherlock Holmes, the World’s only Consulting Detective and I have a case for you,” before adding quietly, “It’s a matter of life and death.”

Sherlock was about to retaliate with a snide remark when he noted how ashen her face had become. Her impassioned speech had clearly triggered a memory, and not of the pleasant variety.

With a resigned sigh the former detective made the only decision available to him. With practical efficiency he gathered up a blowpipe and some poison darts which he placed in a pouch, made of animal hide that he had secured to a strap. He then slipped the strap over his head, adjusting it until it rested comfortably over his shoulder and across his chest.

He then made his way over to where Molly stood. “Fine,” he responded. “Then we’d better be on our way, Miss...”

“Molly Hooper,” Molly answered, relief washing over her as she took the hand he offered and shook it.

***

EN ROUTE - CAMPSITE

Sherlock took the lead, his sure silent steps confident as he headed in the direction of the campsite without the need to consult on the precise direction.

As they made their way through the dense jungle, Molly was relieved, as it gave her some breathing space to try and sort out the conflicting emotions she was battling with. She had complete faith in the former detective’s ability to determine who the men were and why they were after Kitty Riley, and to discover where they had taken her. Assuming she was still alive...

Molly shook her head vehemently, to remove the negative thought. The men clearly wanted Kitty for some reason, so she would be more valuable to them alive rather than dead. No, what had Molly concerned was whether Sherlock could set aside his hostility towards the journalist who had contributed to his being in his current position.

A position she found extremely distracting, as circumstances had placed Molly so she had the perfect opportunity to appreciate some might say perve, his near naked state.  He was slim, but not skinny. His time in the jungle had ensured that his broad shouldered lithe frame had become well toned, but not overly muscular. Molly found herself increasingly mesmerised by the play of muscles, from his shoulder blades, down to his taut buttocks...

“Keep up Molly Hooper,” Sherlock instructed sternly.

Rudely jolted from her inappropriate thoughts, Molly felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment when the former detective, his gaze still firmly fixed on the path ahead, chastised her.

“Now is not the time for daydreaming.”

***

THE CAMPSITE

The cause of death of the two guides was self evident, their throats had been cut. A closer inspection revealed the precision of the action. Performed by one who knew exactly what they were doing. Sherlock doubted that either of the young men knew what was happening before the deed was done. So a professional hit then, not just a random assault as he’d first assumed

In the blink of an eye Sherlock went from casual observer to professional investigator. The first order of business was the gathering of any evidence that would lead to the identity of those who had cold-bloodedly murdered the two unarmed guides before kidnapping Kitty Riley.

*

As soon as they had arrived back at the campsite Molly immediately made her way over to her backpack, thankful to find it amongst the chaos, to collect any items that might be of use in the gathering of samples: tweezers, phials, plastic bags and a magnifying glass. It wasn’t much, but for the moment anything was better than nothing.

She returned just as the detective was finishing up his examination of the two guides. Getting to his feet he turned to her. “I don’t suppose you have anything...” upon seeing the items she had with her. “Perfect.”

“Oh, and you might need these,” Molly added, pulling a notebook and pencil from her jeans pocked and handed them to him.

*

Sherlock moved around the campsite, the struggle Kitty had put up clearly evident, as was the when she had been overpowered. His nostrils twitched as he carefully lifted a cloth soaked in chloroform with the tweezers and bagged them.

A quick inspection of the river bank revealed no sign of a body. He was satisfied that she had been taken alive.

But to what purpose, Sherlock was confident the reason Kitty had been targeted was due to her penchant for writing explosive exposes. He’d eat that damned floppy-eared hat if it wasn’t.

The euphoria he’d been feeling instantly died. One stray thought was all it took and the torrent of unwelcome memories returned, overwhelming him, and pouring cold water on his enthusiasm for the investigation, to be replaced with an air of aloof disinterest.

*

Molly became confused and alarmed when Sherlock abruptly stopped what he was doing and instead started packing up.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed.

“Change of plan,” was the cool response.

Her alarm turned to disbelief when it became clear he was intending to leave. Molly scrambled hurriedly over to him, and blocking his way.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

Sherlock released an impatient sigh. “Obvious surly,”

“You’re leaving,” Molly’s disbelief morphed into anger. “Why?”

“Because I’ve gathered enough evidence for the local authorities, with it they should be able to make something of it. Should they apply themselves,” was the cold response.

“What!” Molly couldn’t believe her ears. Not even Sherlock Holmes could be that callous. “Sherlock, you can’t leave this investigation to the local police force.”

“I beg to differ,” he stated as he attempted to move around her.

But Molly stood her ground. “Kitty needs your deductive abilities. She’s relying on you.”

“Then maybe she should have thought about that before writing nothing but lies about people,” he retorted, his tone petulant.

Sherlock turned, determined to head back to his hut. ‘Damned of he was going to be lectured to by this little common sparrow of a woman,’ he thought in growing annoyance.

But Molly hadn’t finished, stepping right into Sherlock’s personal space to continue the argument he had already deemed over.

“Oh dear god,” Molly exclaimed, her whole demeanour changing as she started laughing. “No wonder you and Kitty don’t get on. You’re so much alike.”

Sherlock’s head reared back, as if she’d slapped him.

“Sherlock Holmes and Kitty Riley are two peas in a pod,” she was openly goading him now.

Her action pushed him over the edge, and he snapped.

Molly barely had time to register the change in his demeanour before Sherlock lunged. His usually cold gaze became burning hot, his nostrils flared and a savage snarl emerged through his lips as he grabbed hold of Molly’s ponytail, using it to forcibly wrench her head back.

Molly gave a startled gasp of surprise, mingled with pain.

Her reaction triggered an unexpected need that totally overpowered Sherlock’s usually cool logic. Remorselessly he dragged her slight frame roughly until it collided with his sinewy iron-hard body, using brute force to masterfully subdue her, as he bent down to crush her soft, pliant lips with his own.

His intention had merely been to silence her. But his fierce actions had revealed Molly’s interest in him. She was turned on, her eyes begging him for more. Sherlock was more than happy to oblige her, confident in his ability to resist the temptations she was freely offering him. And he wanted to punish her for her impudence.

But before Sherlock could claim victory, Molly reached up and wound her fingers through his wayward curls, yanking at the sensitive hair follicles before using her short nails to scratch and massage his scalp, causing an uncharacteristic groan of pure lust to escape Sherlock’s cupids-bow lips.

Sherlock was drowning in the sensual onslaught of carnal emotions and cravings that he had spent so many years suppressing. His tongue slipped between Molly’s willing lips, its movements echoing those of his body that was thrusting frantically against Molly’s equally yielding form in its search for sexual release.

Molly too was engulfed in a whirlwind of erotic sensations, her ability to think clearly swept away by Sherlock’s fervour.

Sherlock’s hands moved down her body coming to rest on the curve of her breast, his long agile fingers making quick work of the buttons on her blouse, before slipping inside her bra to rub and pinch the nipple enclosed within. At the same time he rubbed his painfully erect cock against her feminine core, increasing the speed of his thrusts with a ruthless determination, his nostrils filled with the musky scent of her arousal.

But when Molly gave an encouraging groan, it shattered the euphoric spell he was under. Sherlock froze, he became completely motionless, his heated body instantly cooling, the primitive sensualist that had hijacked his mind, replaced with that of a cold, hard-hearted intellectual.

Abruptly Sherlock released his hold on Molly and stepped back, his face now a haughty, aloof mask. Without a word he turned and left the campsite.

***

EN ROUTE - ULU VILLAGE

Sherlock strode away from the campsite, desperate to regain control over the unexpected emotions that had overtaken the cool hard logic that he valued so highly. Unfortunately his attempts to think rationally remained futile with his body, though cool still craving the sexual release it had been so cruelly denied.

Furious with himself over his complete lack of control Sherlock attempted to find relief in thought, only to have his frustration grow when his Mind Palace turned traitor. Without permission it created an extra large room labelled MOLLY HOOPER.

Despite the speculation in the tabloid press Sherlock Holmes was no virgin. But the drug-fuelled trysts he’d engaged in at university had nothing to do with sentiment. Instead those experiences had hardened him, enabling him to strengthen his resistance to the temptations of the flesh.

From the infamous dominatrix Irene Adler, to the wiles of the native woman and girls of the Ulu tribe, all had tried attempted to entice him. And all had failed.

So what was it about Molly Hooper that affected him so?  

While attempting to sort out the reason why he had reacted as he had, the last thing Sherlock needed was for his brother to appear a-la Jiminy Cricket style, perching himself elegantly on Sherlock’s shoulder.

“Taking the coward’s way out, brother mine?” Mycroft asked, his tone mocking as he appraised his younger brother with an expression of supreme superiority.

“Bugger off Mycroft,” Sherlock muttered through gritted teeth.

The spectre merely smiled in an infuriatingly knowing way. He wasn’t going anywhere. At least not until Sherlock admitted the true reason why he needed to escape the campsite.

Any why he’d so ruthlessly abandoned Molly to fend for herself, leaving her to deal with the gruesome crime scene all on her own...

The twinge of guilt that thought provoked had Sherlock coming to an abrupt halt. How could he had left her in such a precarious predicament.

“Sentiment, brother dear, tut, tut,” Mycroft’s voice taunted as Sherlock turned, intending to make his way back to the camp.

By now it was twilight and all manner of animals were on the prowl. Pre-occupied as he was, it wasn’t until a movement out of the corner of his eye alerted Sherlock of the danger he was in. Too late he realised he’d left his blowpipe at the campsite, and all he could do was swear as the Sunda clouded leopard pounced.

***

Chapter 6: In Need of Medical Assistance

***

CAMPSITE

In stunned silence Molly watched Sherlock leave the campsite. She felt like she’d been slapped in the face, and played for a fool.

Of course with his famous deductive abilities it would have been easy for him to observe her attraction to him, she hadn’t exactly done much to hide it.

But did he have to be so cruel to play upon her feelings, and then throw them back in her face?

She knew she’d probably pushed him harder than she should have, but it had amused her to realise just how similar the detective and the journalist were. Her intention had merely been to get Sherlock to admit that the reason he and Kitty Riley butted heads had more to do with the fact that they were more similar than opposite in their approach to their chosen fields.

But she had clearly hit a nerve much rawer than she had anticipated,

And Sherlock’s response had been equally unexpected.

She’d been aware of all the rumours circulating about his sexuality or lack thereof ever since he had made his claims about being ‘married to his work.’ It had led to untold speculation within the presses, both tabloid and the more conservative publications. He was described as anything from a machine right through to gay.

The latter gained a lot of traction when it became known that not even a well known dominatrix could get under his skin. Some of the more salacious tabloids even went so far to claim that the great detective wouldn’t know what to do to a woman, in the sexual context, stating he was an untried virgin.

But Molly had discovered firsthand how wrong that suggestion had been.

The kiss may have begun as a form of punishment, but there was no doubting his expertise, an expertise that easily eclipsed that of hers. Though Molly too was no virgin, her experience up until that point was limited to the fumbling of her fellow uni students, who were all raging hormones, more interested in getting their satisfaction, with as little foreplay as possible.

And she had surprised herself by being incredibly turned on by Sherlock’s primitive savagery. Its potent effect easily overwhelmed any thoughts of protest. Though initially shocked, arousal soon kicked in and she eagerly joined in, letting all reservations slip away.

So when he had pulled away and abruptly left, it felt like he was playing with her emotions, using it as a way to prove his superiority over her.

By now the detective was out of sight, and Molly shook herself out of her reverie, determined to have words with Sherlock when she caught up with him. But that would have to wait. She needed to focus on gathering up the evidence that had been collected.

And then there were the bodies of the two guides.

While her mobile was still fully charged, she took several photos of each, before taking a few samples for DNA testing, and recorded a brief report of the injuries that caused their deaths. She then covered their bodies with the sleeping bags they’d brought with them.

She knew it was probably a pointless exercise, and that by the time authorities eventually arrived the bodies would more than likely be dismembered by any predators that caught the scent of their decomposing bodies.

But she couldn’t bring herself to leave them so exposed. It felt wrong.

She had just finished reciting the Lord’s Prayer, when she became aware of a commotion coming from the direction that Sherlock was headed. Her initial reaction was one of ‘he could go to Hell for all she cared.’

But that thinking went right out the window when she became aware that he was being attacked by what sounded like a big cat.

Looking around frantically for something, anything that could be used as a weapon, Molly spotted the blowpipe Sherlock had discarded once he began searching for clues.

Snatching it up, she headed off in the direction Sherlock had gone.

***

DEEP IN SARAWAK JUNGLE, BORNEO

Sherlock barely had time to raise his arms as the leopard landed, knocking him to the ground.

“Oomtphf!”

With the breath knocked out of him Sherlock knew he was going to have to act fast. Instinct kicked in, he raised his legs to not only protect his chest and stomach, but also to prevent the leopard from reaching his head and neck, while at the same time he used his arms to hold it back.

Realising that in its current position the big cat was in a far more dominant position, Sherlock took it by surprise, using all of his strength to roll himself and the leopard over, so that it was now under him, and with the increased adrenalin pumping through his veins he was able to push himself up enough to enable him to get to a standing position. He then used the remaining few seconds that he had to frantically look for anything that he could use as a weapon.

Recovering from the unexpected manoeuvre the leopard leapt at the former detective in fury, nothing more than a blur of razor sharp teeth and claws that tore at his flesh as it tackled him to the ground once again.

But just as it gained the upper hand it was startled by an unexpected attack from behind.

*

All Molly saw was Sherlock on the ground covered in blood. Fuelled by a surge of adrenalin and with no thought for her own safety, she charged at the leopard, using the blowpipe to strike the unsuspecting animal.

Startled, the leopard immediately drew back. When Molly raised the blowpipe again and moved towards it, the big cat decided to make a strategic withdrawal.

Before it had disappeared into the undergrowth, Molly was at Sherlock’s side and assessing his injuries. She was relieved to find that they were not life threatening, but there were a couple of nasty looking wounds that required immediate medical attention.

“Can you move?”

Sherlock nodded, wincing in pain as he allowed Molly to assist him in getting to his feet. He wrapped his uninjured arm around her shoulders, taking the blowpipe to use as a walking cane. Molly placed her arm securely around his waist to support him as they made their way back to his hut.

***

SHERLOCK’S HUT

Once safely inside Molly assisted Sherlock over to his bed. With a groan of relief he gratefully collapsed.

After a brief search Molly found a box of matches, using them to light a couple of lamps. She then spotted the bucket of fresh water and a cloth Sherlock kept on hand. Bringing them over to where the detective lay, and with great care she began cleaning up the blood so that she could better assess the extent of his injuries, and was relieved when her initial assessment proved correct.

He’d suffered a series of deep scratches, but the wound on his side and his upper arm where the flesh was torn was of concern.

“How are you feeling?” Molly asked.

“Alive,” Sherlock responded, wincing in obvious pain when he tried to move. “How bad is it?” he asked.

“Not too bad. You were incredibly lucky.”

“Thanks to you,” he acknowledged.

Despite the praise Molly was aware that he wasn’t out of the woods yet. The wounds might not be life threatening now, but they were going to require surgery, and she needed to make sure the wounds didn’t become infected. Unfortunately she had nothing with her to use to clean and disinfect his injuries, or dull the pain and sew up the wounds that were of most concern.

Her eyes darted around the small basic hut in search of something, anything she could make use of.

Sherlock watching the way she chewed her lower lip, and quickly deuced her requirements. “Over there,” he said, indicating with a nod of his head. “You should find all you need.”

Molly followed his gaze and spotted a strong box under the table.

Opening it she found a First Aid Kit. Inside there were bandages and the like that you would expect to find, but there was also a bottle of pure alcohol, some surgical grade thread, a vial of liquid morphine, syringes, needles, and a box of rubber gloves.

Molly immediately set about getting everything organised. She washed her hands before putting on a pair of gloves. She used the alcohol to clean the wounds more thoroughly, before threading a needle and carefully drawing the correct dose of morphine into the syringe.

Given the circumstances, and with none of the specialised medical equipment she was not going to be able to knock Sherlock out completely. So she had to limit the dose so that it would mask the pain while he remained conscious throughout the whole procedure. A situation she had dealt with in theory but never in practice, until now.

When Sherlock nodded to confirm that the morphine had kicked in, Molly knew she had to deal with the injuries as quickly and professionally as possible.

Focussing on the task at hand she began on the wound on his side.

*

Sherlock watched on in curiosity that quickly turned to growing admiration. He noted her efforts in making the whole procedure as comfortable for him as she could. It was quite the accomplishment given the circumstances. He admired her deft skill with the needle, her needlework neat and small that would ensure that the scaring, if any, would be minimal.

By the time she’d finished sewing up the wounds to his side and upper arm, Sherlock was confident that in whatever field of medicine she chose to specialise in, Molly Hooper would prove to be an exceptional asset.

Satisfied that the sutures would hold, allowing his injuries to heal, Molly released a sigh of relief.

“You need to get some rest,” she instructed in what she hoped was a firm no-nonsense tone.

Sherlock never liked being told what to do. “Fine,” he responded haughtily to her instruction, but his features softened as he took in her exhausted state. “But only on the grounds that you join me.”

By now Molly didn’t have the energy to argue with him, and simply got on the bed with him.

*

Molly woke to the cacophony of bird calls. The first thing she was aware of was that Sherlock was no longer in the bed with her.

Sitting up she looked around the room, easily finding him. He was standing by the table going through the items he’d collected from the campsite.. She could see he was intently examining one item in particular.

Curious, she got up and made her way over to him to see what it was. But before she could voice her enquiry, Sherlock turned to her, his expression grim. “I know who has Kitty Riley,” he said. “We have to get to Sarawak as quickly as possible. We leave in an hour.”

***

#Sherlolly #Medical student Molly #On the run Sherlock #Kitty Riley on the hunt for a career breaking story #My take on the M&B classic Call of the Heathen