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flowerandblood · 5 months

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The Prince and The Fox (8)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, smut, mention of grooming ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood!

Story Music Playlist.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She woke up hearing the clacking of dishes in the distance. She opened her eyes and furrowed her brow, not knowing for a moment where she was. She looked around and recognised Helaena's living room in confusion, only then remembering with a blush on her face the events of the evening before.

Their passionate kisses, his hand on her soft breast, his arms embracing her throughout the night.

He had slept with her on the couch, his face snuggled into her shoulder, his hands on her palms.

She thought they really were together.

She got up and followed the sounds that led her to the kitchen. In it she saw, amazed, Aemond standing over a frying pan, apparently just making scrambled eggs, next to him water was boiling in a kettle on the burner.

He heard her footsteps and glanced in her direction; she saw that he too was embarrassed and swallowed loudly, stirring in the pan with a wooden spoon.

"Will you eat with me?" He asked lowly, and she agreed with a smile, walking slowly closer.

"Can I help you somehow?" She asked and he nodded, pointing with his head to the mug standing on the countertop.

"Choose what kind of tea you want to drink. I don't know if you want sugar. There are plates upstairs in the cupboard, take three out, I'll ask Aegon if he'll eat with us." He said turning off the fire under the pan and went out into the corridor, shouting from downstairs to his brother if he would have breakfast with them.

After a while Aegon joined them and the three of them sat down at the table. Aegon looked at her wrinkling his brow, sleepy, not yet fully awake.

"Did you stay overnight?" He asked puzzled, and she lowered her gaze, embarrassed, swallowing the bite she had just eaten.

"Yes, I fell asleep on the couch and Aemond probably didn't want to wake me up again." She said in a slightly trembling voice, trying not to give herself away or look at them, taking another bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

Aegon raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother, then grunted loudly, clearly amused, already concentrating on his food.

"Helaena returned safely?" She asked uncertainly wanting to change the subject, worrying if anything had happened to her.

"She texted me a while ago that she was staying with a friend for the night and that she would be home this afternoon." Aemond replied, and she nodded.

Aegon left them alone, saying that he needed to sleep for at least another hour and Aemond looked at her uncertainly, fiddling with his cup in his hand.

"If you want, take a shower. I'll give you a clean towel. We can still play here or in my room. Or watch something." He muttered quickly, as if suddenly throwing out ideas and reasons why she could stay longer.

Her heart was pounding like crazy.

He wanted her not to go home yet.

She agreed and, at his suggestion, bathed, then they moved to his room to play games on his computer. They took their pads with them and spread out comfortably in two leather armchairs, one of which he had brought for her from Helaena's room.

She saw him looking at her, her hair was still slightly damp and completely loose.

She knew that, like her, he was thinking about what had happened between them and that for him it had been an equally groundbreaking experience.

He paused the game they were playing after a while and looked down at his thighs, his lips tightened.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked without looking at her, fiddling with his pad in his hand, his voice trembling as he spoke the words. She nodded.

He licked his lower lip, as if he was gathering what he wanted to say with great difficulty. He was silent for a moment.

"Do you have any physical experience? I mean…one with yourself, for example." He mumbled embarrassedly, sliding lower in his chair as if he wanted to curl up and hide. She lowered her head feeling the embarrassment that was visibly painted on her face.

"…I've never had a boyfriend before, if that's what you're asking." She said quietly and he swallowed loudly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, pale.

"But have you…you know. Have you ever touched yourself?" He asked uncertainly, and she gave him a concerned look, furrowing her brow.

"Why do you ask about it?" She asked in a slightly trembling voice, and he looked at her surprised, feeling subconsciously that he might have crossed a line with this question, even though he didn't want to.

"I just…I just don't want to hurt you. I want to know what point you're at so I can…adjust to you. You know." He shrugged his shoulders pressing his lips together; she felt some kind of pain and at the thought that he was more experienced than her, that he had done it with his ex-girlfriend in all sorts of ways.

She lowered her gaze, looking at her pad with a blank stare, thinking about how she would be a disappointment to him.

How would she give him what she had?

She felt tears under her eyelids, her lower lip beginning to tremble a little. She heard him lean forward in his seat wanting to see her face and seeing her state he moved quickly towards her, touching his hand to her cheek, taking her hair back with a light flick of his fingers.

"− hey − what's going on? − tell me −" He mumbled out, frightened by her condition and the fact that he had offended her. She swallowed hard, looking down at her thighs and shrugged her shoulders.

"− it doesn't make sense − you'll be only frustrated with me − I can't give you what she had −" She uttered with difficulty, and he pressed his forehead against her temple, tightening his hand on her hair.

"− stop − okay? − you don't understand this − I regret a lot of things − I regret that I didn't wait with them − I regret that I couldn't erase all of this and start over, with you −" He whispered, and she felt a strong squeeze in her heart, breathing unevenly through her slightly parted lips.

"− I was proud of the fact that she treated me like a man − that she wanted me like a man − but inside I was terrified − she didn't care, she took what she wanted − I was left with this sickening sense that she used me, that I am just a flesh and nothing more −" He muttered, and she looked up at him, shocked by his words, her eyebrows arched in pain.

"Don't say that." She said softly, quietly, and he swallowed loudly, his jaw clenched, his fingers running over her cheek and lower lip.

"− but it's true − that's how I feel − I did fucked up things with her − I felt like an animal − when I came home afterwards I didn't know what my fucking name was − I couldn't look my mother in the eye −" He choked out with difficulty, his face and healthy eye red, his voice trembling making her feel a tightness in her throat.

"− but with you −" He stammered and chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, his thumb circled and returned back to her cheek.

"− I didn't know it could be like this − so tender − so peaceful, safe − − just your scent and your closeness makes me want you so badly that I can barely keep my hands off you −" He exhaled and bit his lower lip, sighing quietly.

"− that's why I just want to know what you need, how much I can allow myself − you're my girlfriend and I don't want to hurt you − okay? −" He asked in a trembling voice, and she nodded quickly, feeling hot in her heart at his words.

You're my girlfriend.

She looked up at him, swallowing loudly, her lips slightly parted.

"− I'd just like to please you − I'd like to be enough for you −" She whispered in a trembling voice, and he drew her to him, forcing her to sit on his lap and embrace him, his large chair creaking under their shared weight.

She felt safe in his arms, his hand stroking her hair, his lips kissing the top of her head with a tender click. She could hear his heart pounding fast.

"− I want you − I want to wait for you − I want to be worthy of you − make us slowly discover everything together −" He murmured tenderly, placing affectionate kisses on her hair again and again; she snuggled into him tightly, touched, lingering like this with him in the embrace, feeling that they were closer to each other than ever.

"− can you kiss me? −" She asked in a shy, trembling voice. He hummed contentedly and lifted his head, his nose gently rubbed against hers before his lips pressed to hers in a soft, innocent, warm kiss.

She hugged his neck and pressed herself tighter to him wanting to show him how much she needed him, how much she desired him, how happy she was. He murmured contentedly as he embraced her around the waist, their kisses loud, sticky and slow, she could feel his fingers trailing down her back.

She pulled away from him and looked at him with a misty gaze, thinking with a fast beating heart that she wanted to do this, she wanted to open up to him, she wanted him to think she was beautiful.

With a light movement of her trembling hands, she grabbed the material of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her bare chest to him. She saw the pupil of his healthy eye narrowed in shock, his breath caught in his throat, felt his manhood pulsate hard beneath her in his trousers.

She looked at him uncertainly, feeling a slight chill, feeling vulnerable, exposed, however at the same time realising that she was safe, that he would never hurt her.

She saw him swallow loudly, his gaze running from her face to her breasts and back again, his hand gently running over the side of her naked waist. She felt him slowly move forward and press his face against her sternum, placing his hands on the bare skin of her back.

She could feel him pulsing hard beneath her, his fingers trailing up and down her body, but beyond that he didn't move. She slid her fingers into his hair, stroking his head and kissed the top of it leaning over him, pressing her cheek against him with a blush on her face.

She felt his lips place soft, tender kisses on her sternum, and then he pressed the side of his face into her warm flesh, one of his hands tentatively running his fingers gently over her soft, plump breast as he looked at it.

He traced his fingers up and down, a pleasant shiver passing through her every time he ran his fingers over her nipple. He felt it, his thumb deliberately beginning to tease and play with it; she felt a pulsing between her thighs and a pleasant heat in her lower abdomen, involuntarily rubbing against his erection she felt underneath.

She heard him sigh softly, his hips responded to her movements with slow rocking, their bodies in some subconscious reflex begin to press against each other with their breaths speeding up.

He surprised her when he lifted his head suddenly, his lips finding hers in greedy kiss, his hands gripping her armpits in such a way that both his thumbs brushed and teased her nipples.

She moaned into his mouth, feeling a pleasant shiver that shook her whole body, she felt him smirk.

"− feels good? −" He murmured between one sticky kiss and another, and she only nodded, unable to focus on anything other than the wetness and pulsing between her thighs, her hands stroking his cheeks and hair, holding him close.

He pulled away from her and looked at her in a way that made her hot, and then he leaned over and grabbed her right breast in his mouth, sucking and licking her nipple, making her clench her hands in his hair and tilt her head back, a moan escaping her lips again, her thighs speeding up their movements, rubbing against his manhood faster and faster.

"− quiet −" He gasped out between one lick of his tongue and another, starting to suck her again, and she pressed her lips together with difficulty, remembering that Aegon was asleep in the next room. The tension she felt was indescribable, she had never felt this good before in her life.

She heard him let go of her breast with a loud click of his saliva only to deal with her other breast in the same way, making a quiet mewl escape her throat, his hands sliding down to her buttocks forcing her to press harder against him.

"− fuck −" He growled, panting loudly along with her; she had the feeling that they had both lost control and surrendered completely to what was happening between them.

She squealed quietly as he stood up with her, grabbing her under her hips and walked with her towards his bed, thrusting himself onto it with her pulling away from her breasts, looking at her.

"− did you ever touch yourself down there? −" He repeated the question in a trembling voice, and she swallowed loudly, embarrassed, feeling that she had never been so wet before in her life.

"− yes, but − nothing ever came out of it − I mean −" She mumbled out, feeling that she was red, though she didn't know how to put it into words.

She touched herself and it felt good, but she couldn't bring herself to orgasm and had no idea what she was doing wrong.

Never then, however, had her insides pulsed as hard as they did now. She saw that he licked his lips, breathing hard, restraining himself with all his might not to just throw himself at her.

"− would you like me to try? − you know −" He muttered, and she swallowed loudly, looking at him with wide eyes.

"− we don't have to − we can only do what we've been doing − I just want to know −" He added quickly, terrified that he might have imposed too fast a pace on her and frightened her. She swallowed loudly, looking at him with her lips slightly parted, feeling her heart pounding hard.

"− we can try −" She mumbled embarrassedly and saw that he swallowed with difficulty, letting the air out loudly. He nodded, laying down beside her.

"− lie with your back to me − yes, just like that −" He murmured, pulling her to him, embracing her with his arms, she could feel his hard length pressed between her buttocks.

She swallowed loudly as his fingers gently began to tease her nipple again, and his other hand slowly slid lower to the material of her shorts, his warm breath surrounding her ear and cheek.

"− tell me if you get uncomfortable, okay? − promise me −" He whispered in a trembling voice, and she nodded quickly, feeling like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

"− okay −"

She drew in a loud breath as his fingers slid under the material of her panties, in a slow, unhurried motion sinking into her most intimate place. He stopped as her whole body tensed through this new, foreign sensation.

"− do you want me to stop? −" He asked uncertainly, but she shook her head.

He swallowed loudly, gently exploring her condition with his hand, sinking into her hot, soft folds, his fingertips ran gently over her slit, so wet because of her arousal; she gasped, hearing his sudden, surprised, quiet groan.

"− oh fuck − little one − what happened here? −" He asked with some kind of appreciation, spreading her moisture all over her womanhood, his fingers in gentle circular motions began to tease the space around the spot from which shivers ran through her.

"− I − I don't know −" She mumbled embarrassedly and he chuckled softly, his lips placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"− but I know − my little fox got all wet for me −" He whispered, and she felt his words between her thighs, a wave of heat went through her, the space inside her throbbed hard.

"− ah −" She moaned helplessly, his hands simultaneously teasing her nipple and her clit made her body all hot, she felt like the tension in her lower abdomen kept growing, that she was no longer thinking soberly, her hips began to move to the rhythm of his hand.

"− that's it − just feel it − such a good girl −" He praised her, kissing her hair tenderly, obviously feeling her leaking onto his fingers.

She squeezed her eyes shut, panting loudly along with him, feeling him rubbing against her from behind, feeling his hardness pulsing aggressively pressed against her buttocks, feeling that he was turned on by what he was doing to her.

She shuddered and barely stifled a loud moan when she suddenly felt the tip of his middle finger slide into her a little, pushing her tight, throbbing muscles apart.

"− shhh −" He hushed her and she swallowed loudly clenching her lips, reaching back with her hand, grabbing his hair with his murmur of delight, with subconscious movements she sank down onto his finger, letting it fill her, both of them sighing loudly.

"− fuck − so tight − we need to prepare you a bit before you feel this inside you one day, hm? −" He asked, rubbing his hard erection against her buttocks. "− I wouldn't want to tear you apart −"

She let out a loud gasp at his words, all hot, moaning and panting as quietly as she could, his finger sliding in and out of her with a loud click of her moisture.

She arched her back as he found a spot inside her that every time he rubbed it made her go dark before her eyes, his thumb teasing her clit as at the same time the fingers of his other hand massaged and pulled at her nipple.

"− A-Aemond − I think − oh my God −" She mumbled out and opened her mouth wide with a loud moan, sensing that something was coming; he managed to cover her lips with his free hand before she whimpered again and again, her body shook with a wave of pleasure that took her completely by surprise. She breathed loudly, quivering and moaning his name, falling and rising on his finger.

"− oh baby − so much flowed out of you − fuck, I want to feel you so badly −" He breathed out into her ear as her body shook with convulsions, his hand still clamped over her mouth.

He let her go when he felt her calm down; she could feel him looking at her but she just lay there with her eyes closed, concentrating only on how wonderfully intense the experience was.

"− how was it? − did you enjoy it? −" He asked in a trembling voice with some kind of pride, and she just nodded, unable to get anything more out of herself.

"− I'm going to go to the bathroom for a while, okay? − I'll get you some tissues so you can wipe yourself off −" He said quietly and she nodded again. He kissed her on her cheek and got out of bed, walking quickly towards his door, closing it behind him as soon as he left.

He'd been gone quite a while, but she didn't think about it, happy and fulfilled, thinking about the fact that she felt a little more like a woman now, not a little girl.

That even though her whole body was trembling, it felt good.

She opened her eyelids when he returned and took the packet of damp tissues from him, slipping them individually between her thighs, wanting to get rid of that uncomfortable, sticky feeling.

She tossed them into his bin standing next to his bed and lay down again. He settled behind her back as before with his arms around her, kissing the bare skin of her neck and shoulder; she felt that the hardness in his trousers disappeared.

"− what happened to that? −" She asked with amusement, rubbing her buttocks against him; she heard him hum behind her, she knew he was smiling.

"− it's my dark secret −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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cas-kingdom · 1 year

Note

"What are you doing here? It isn't safe!"

With Chicago Fire?❤️

The silence of the derelict building had since been broken only by the moving of burnt furniture and blackened bits of ceiling as you cautiously picked your way through what had been the kitchen before five hours ago.

You bent over your target in the middle of the room and silence reigned once more. Then, naturally:

“Y/N? That you?”

Your refusal to turn at your brother’s voice—though you were so engrossed in whatever you were doing that it was possible you hadn’t even heard him—prompted both Matt and Kelly to exchange looks of confusion and slight concern. It wasn’t often they found Casey Jr. in beaten down houses, despite their job.

Glancing around the room, mentally mapping the likelihood of it caving in around them, Kelly took a few steps forward, Matt following behind. “Y/N, what’re you doing here?” he asked gently, though urgency reared its head all the same. “It isn’t safe.”

It was then that you stood, your mind set. “It’s arson.”

The men stopped. Casey dipped his head a little, an eyebrow raising. “What?”

You turned. The resolution was clear on your face, a determination to get your point, whatever it was, across. “It was arson,” you repeated.

There was a moment of processing. You were a young woman now, accepted into the fire academy and due to start your training as soon as your college exams were done, but you had been part of the firehouse and the institution as a whole your entire life. You’d grown up with Matt as your guardian and the members of 51 your multiple aunts and uncles. If anyone was going to have mountains of fire knowledge, it was the girl who’d been raised by firemen.

Though, if your words were anything to go by, it seemed your few visits to OFI headquarters with Kelly over the years had rubbed off on you the most.

The potential seriousness of the situation setting in, Kelly hurried his steps. “Show us,” he said.

You immediately knelt to the ground, resuming your previous position as Kelly shone his torch where you were pointing. You stretched your hand out and waved it over the ground. “Here. It looks like someone was trying to rub the trail from the ground but it’s obviously still there. It’s—looks like accelerant.” You pointed at a bar stool, its three remaining legs deformed and black. “That was pretty conveniently placed on top of it, too.” You shook your head and bit the inside of your cheek, staring at the dim line leading from the middle of the room towards the stove by the wall. You knew what you were seeing. It all added up.

Matt leant forward to peer closer, brows furrowing in concentration. “She’s not wrong,” he said eventually, brushing flakes of ash away from the trail to see the small grooves in the floorboards, careful not to ruin potential evidence. “See here...these scratch marks look purposeful. A nail?”

Kelly shook his head. “Could be anything.”

“Not much else to think otherwise.” Matt fixed his eyes back on you. “What else you got?”

You rose your fist to your mouth, your confidence momentarily slacking. “Just hunches,” you admitted, “but you’ve always taught me to trust those.” You sat back and glanced between the two. “The family said they didn’t know what happened, right? The wife was cooking, left it for a moment, and it just caught fire.”

“That’s what he said,” Casey said, referring to the husband.

“He. Right. He was wearing gloves when you brought him out. I saw. He wouldn’t take them off and he wouldn’t let the meds take them off. Said it was cold and he was fine, they should be paying more attention to his wife.” 51 had found over the years there were multiple benefits to your placement as Boden’s shadow. You saw things others didn’t; that was your job, after all. Stand back and observe. Watch how they worked. Learn from the best, so when the Academy finally called you up, you’d be the best.

The earlier fire hadn’t been overtly suspicious at all. Apart from the gloves, and the way the man had reacted, everything was pure gut feeling. The house hadn’t been far from the station so you’d walked there the moment you could, eager to quench the inkling that something wasn’t right. It’d often been joked at that you were a Severide clone, not just in your mannerisms, which was no surprise considering the lieutenant’s influential hand in raising you, but also your affinity for fire investigation. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d aided the OFI, and it would undoubtedly not be your last.

Kelly stood to his feet and shone the torch throughout the rest of the room. “He was wearing gloves at the hospital,” he said.

“You saw him at the hospital?” you asked.

Matt rubbed his palm across his forehead and leant his arms on his knees. “We went to check on the wife. That’s why we’re here. To find some family photograph the guy ran back inside to find after overhaul. Don’t even know how he got there, honestly.” He hummed absently and gazed back at the trail. “I guess he could have come back to rub the trail out. Used the photograph as a ruse.”

Kelly turned back with a frown. “He did make a lot of effort telling us not to go outta our way to get it for him.”

“The gloves, Y/N,” Matt said. “You think his hands are burnt?”

“I do. I think he, or someone, set that fire.”

There was a bleak quietude for a moment, the eeriness of the wind passing through the open door and across the burnt ground the only noise to interrupt it. Kelly eventually heaved a sigh and pulled his beanie down over his ears.

“Alright,” he said, “let’s head back to OFI now, give them your findings. Try and open a case.” As you stood up, he put a hand on your shoulder, a knowing smile spreading across his lips. “This is good, you know. Really good.”

“Yeah.” Matt finished taking photos of the little evidence you had found before he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against his side. “We’ll make a firefighter outta you yet.”

You smiled. “I learnt from the best.”

Chicago Fire Masterpost

#chicago fire #matt casey #kelly severide #casey x severide #severide x casey #casey x reader #matt casey x reader #kelly severide x reader #severide x reader #reader #reader fic #sister reader #sister!reader #not mine

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mosslarose · 10 months

Text

Armortentia

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, meaning Professor Sharp is teaching his sixth years how to brew armortentia. Leading to the events of unhinged chaos.

Word count: 1,900+

My character summary here.

It’s their last period of the day, everyone’s tired and grouchy and in all honesty, Sharp cannot be bothered to try teach these teenagers something necessary to the Hogwarts curriculum. Instead, it’s Valentine’s Day, he’s feeling nicer than usual and thinks a lesson on Armortentia might be nice for the students - oh how wrong he was…

It sttarted off like any normal lesson, professor sharp saying what page the students need to turn to, the ingredients they need and a brief explanation of how to brew. The students then disappearing to their stations like zombies as they prepare the elixir.

Thirty minutes go by and already three explosions have happened and an argument between two students who were apparently together? Apparently smelling someone other than the one they’re supposedly with. Sharp barely listened, just scoffing at the pettiness of his students.

“Poppy? Do you think we’re doing this right?” Maisie finally asks as she’s slowly stirring the potion in front of her.

“Looks like it… you can see it turning that pearly colour” Poppy points to the paragraph in the book that clarifies this as she also points to the colour changing liquid in the pot. Maisie just hums back a response. “Give it a sniff, see if you can smell anything” Poppy finally suggests as Maisie stops stirring when it finally reaches the suggested colour in their potions book.

“You first” Maisie laughs as she pulls away, scared she’ll smell something foul instead of her ‘deepest desire’.

“Alright” Poppy says hesitantly as she slowly leans in, carefully trying to smell what her and Maisie just brewed. You can see her nose twitching “no, I can’t-” her eyes go wide as she smiles “oh! I can smell something” she says excitedly as she concentrates on what exactly it is she can smell.

“What can you smell” Maisie asks curiously, looking intently at the shorter (not by much) girl in front of her.

“Umm…” Poppy is still clearly trying to decipher exactly what it is she can smell. Then her eyebrows rise and you can see in the way the edges of her eyes mildly crease that she’s found something familier. “I can smell old parchment” she finally announces, going to smell again and see what else there is to it. “and leather! And a bit of… a bit of vanilla” she says with a proud smile. However, that smile falters as she looks at Maisie who is only squinting at her with furrowed brows.

“Poppy…” Maisie draws out the last syllable as she says the girls name. She looks at her with crossed arms and a knowing, almost annoyed look.

“What? What’s wrong?” Poppy asks. The question laced with concern and uneasiness.

“You are a complete idiot” Maisie says with a light chuckle as she rolls her eyes. Poppy only furrows her brows at the girl, confusion written all over her face. “You’re smelling my bloody brother” Maisie finally announces and Poppy’s cheeks turn a bright crimson as she looks to the floor, switching her weight between the heels and toes of her feet, going back and fourth as she does so. Poppy goes to speak, opening and closing her mouth, lost for words. “You’re my best friend Pop, you could of told me you know” Maisie says as she places a hand on Poppy’s shoulder, trying to reassure her friend.

“I- I wasn’t exactly aware myself” Poppy answers, still flustered by the realisation of a possible liking towards Maisie’s brother Soren.

“You are an idiot” Maisie chuckles as she herself finally decides to smell the concoction. She bows her head and pulls her hair to the side and tucks it behind her ear as she gently sniffs. You can see the light smile on her face, clearly liking the smell before her.

“What can you smell?” Poppy asks from next to Maisie, who continues to smile and smell the potion, almost entranced by it. “Mais?” Poppy asks again, getting the girls attention.

“Oh Umm…” Maisie shakes herself out of whatever trance she was in and smells again, concentrating on the individual smells that mix together like music notes to create the most beautiful symphony.

Both girls completely unaware of what is about to happen across the room from them.

“So, Soren… What can you smell?” Sebastian asks with a smirk on his face, clearly trying to get under the latters skin - annoy him essentially.

“What i smell is no business of yours, Sallow” Soren scoffs as he places the ladle down on the table.

“Oh c’mon on mate…” Sebastian says, thinking carefully of what to say next to most annoy the other “Don’t be coy. Too embarrassed?” Sebastian chuckles. Ominis just nudges him from the seat beside him, obviously in warning to not annoy their good friends brother too much. Sebastian rolls his eyes at him then turns back to Soren, placing his head in his hands and pulling a puppy face “Please…” Sebastian draws out the word and then pouts jokingly when Soren shakes his head in return, clearly tired of Sebastian’s mockery.

“If I comply with your request, then you have to return it and tell me what you smell” Soren says with a knowing smirk, knowing this is something he can hold against the other in the future for his advantage.

“Deal” Sebastian says simply as he spits into his palm and then holds out it out for Soren to shake. Soren looks at the latter in disgust before electing to hold the end of Sebastian’s forefinger and shake that, before pulling a black lace handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaning the ‘dirt’ off his own thumb and finger.

Soren turns around and bows his head gracefully over the cauldron and sniffs. He doesn’t even need to think of what he is smelling and knows instantly each individual, distinct smell from the elixir before him.

“Old books, hay, warm cocoa and hippogriff feathers” Soren announces as he lifts his head swiftly. Sebastian looking at him in utter bemusement. “That’s what a smell.” Soren states like it is completely obvious and Sebastian raises a brow like he’s trying to figure something out.

“That was fast” Sebastian chuckles nervously as he leans into Ominis for agreement, who simply nods so.

“Your turn, Sallow” Soren says with a smirk.

“Hold on…” Ominis finally speaks up, lifting his forefinger as if he’s pausing the people around him, pulling the attention of those closest to him. “That sounds similar to our lovely Sweeting” Ominis states with his own smirk plastered on his face. Soren scoffs.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Soren says as he looks at the two on the station next to him in distaste. “Are you trying to imply that I like Poppy Sweeting?” Soren chuckles like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

“That is exactly what i’m implying” Ominis says from his spot at the potion table. Soren shakes his head at the latter.

“Oh don’t be so absurd” Soren laughs hastily, a slight shake to his words as even he fully doesn’t quite believe himself. Sebastian smirks and laughs and Soren just glares him, Sebastian quickly being quiet as he sees the look on Soren’s face. “Come on Sallow, let’s see what you smell” Soren says finally, raising his eyebrows in daring, changing the topic and pulling the attention from himself. Sebastian huffs as he leans over to smell what he and Ominis not long brewed together.

“I’m not quite sure, can’t decipher it” Sebastian shrugs simply as he pulls away from the cauldron almost instantly.

“Don’t lie to me, Sallow” Soren says, raising an eyebrow. He knows the right thing to say to get it out of him, however. “Or too embarrassed?” Soren smirks as he sees Sebastian’s jaw quite obviously tense in anger. Sebastian leans back over the elixir, nostrils flaring as he takes in the smell before him. You can see his entire body relax as he takes in the smell before him, relishing it.

“I- Uh-” Sebastian stumbles over his own words, trying to find the right way to describe what it is exactly he can smell. Soren raises his eyebrows at him expectantly, knowing Sebastian can’t get out of lying, because they both know Soren will know. “I can smell… uh- garden soil… and wild flowers, but there’s also something slightly more intense, like dark chocolate and mint” Sebastian says and he starts turning red, pulling away from the potion. Oh no-

“You bastard-” Soren goes to pull his wand out as Sebastian moves quickly away from the station, knocking over a chair and then slowly starts taking small steps back.

“For Merlin’s sake, Sebastian” Ominis mutters as he listens to the receding steps of his friend.

“It’s not what you think” Sebastian awkwardly chuckles as he puts both hands up in surrender. “C’mon… mate-”

“I am not your mate” Soren interrupts as he points his wand at Sebastian.

“C’mon Mais, tell me” Poppy persists as she nudges Maisie, trying to get the answer out of her.

“I- it’s like a forest.” Maisie says simply “I can smell pine needles, and fresh rain” she says with a fond smile “and- and smoke. Like a fire that’s just been put out. It’s musky” Maisie says sweetly.

“Maisie” Poppy says knowingly and Maisie looks at the girl, her smile faltering.

“Oh” Maisie finally says as she realised. Poppy just laughs and then points at the girl with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.

“You like Sallow!” Poppy almost yells as she flails her hands in excitement. Maisie is quick to shove her hand over Poppy’s mouth to shut her up.

“Alright say it to the whole world why don’t you” Maisie huffs, clearly embarrassed as her cheeks turn a bright red. Poppy giggles. “Ew! Did you just lick my hand!” Maisie almost squeals as she instantly pulls her had away and proceeds to rub it on Poppy’s robe. “Don’t tell anyone please-”

“My sister!” They then hear Soren’s voice echo across the classroom. “I should take it upon myself to end you right here!” Soren yells again as Garreth and Ominis are getting between Sebastian and Soren. Maisie and Poppy look at each and then back at the palava that appears to be happening at the other end of the class room before they begin to rush over.

“Soren what’s wrong?” Maisie asks as she finally reaches the boys. She’s looking between them all, confusion filling hers and Poppy’s faces.

“He!-” Soren announces as he points to Sebastian “-smelt you in the armortentia!” He says, rage filling his features. He’s trying to break through Garreths hold, who is somehow doing a good job of stopping him from getting to Sebastian.

“Yeah? Well you smelt Poppy!” Sebastian yells from behind Ominis. Poppy blushes at the statement and a slight smile passes over her.

“Soren, I’m fairly sure you’re overreacting” Maisie goes on to say “just- wait hold on… Sebastian you smelt what?” Maisie then turns, realising what is actually going on and looks at a bright red Sebastian who just looks to the floor in embarrassment.

They have all now gathered a crowd and Sharp makes his way through to see what appears to actually be going on.

“Right that’s it, ten points from…” he goes to speak but can’t decipher which house exactly should be punished, who’s who and what’s what and ah fuck it “ten points from all houses” he finally says as he walks away and waves his arm “class dismissed” he says simply before slumping back into his desk, he’s too tired for this shit.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #poppy sweeting #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #professor sharp #potions #Soren and Maisie #hogwarts

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inner-sakura · 2 years

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Hypothetically Ever After

[childhood friends AU, adrienette, slowburn, fake/pretend relationship]

With only two weeks of summer vacation to spare, Marinette enlists Adrien’s help with a task of utmost importance.

“I need you to help me seduce your brother.”

Quite predictably, nothing goes according to plan.

a fic inspired by jennifer echols’s the boys next door, and starrycove’s Brothers AU (where PV Félix is Adrien’s older brother) because both of them have lived in my head and my heart for many years.

read the rest: AO3 | ff.net

chapter thirty-six

Marinette gazed up at the ceiling fan, squinting in concentration. She’d lost track of how long she’d been laying there, trying to pick out the individual paddles as they spun dizzyingly overhead. Based on the way the shadows had shifted and stretched across the ceiling, it had been a while.

Not that it really mattered either way, she thought with a sigh, already resigned to spending her evening exactly the same way she’d spent every waking moment of the rest of her day.

Miserable.

Lonely.

And sick to her stomach. Although that might have been a side effect of all the staring at fast-moving objects.

Marinette closed her eyes, willing the motion sickness away. Now she could add nausea to her ever-growing list of reasons to feel sorry for herself. Wonderful.

Before she could work herself up into a proper sulk, however, her pity party was interrupted by the buzzing of her cellphone.

She reached over blindly, expecting to be greeted by Alya’s picture when she opened her eyes.

Instead, her screen was blank, an unknown number listed at the top.

Marinette eyed it distrustfully. It was probably some kind of spam call. Which she definitely didn’t have the strength or energy to deal with today.

Moving to put the phone back on her nightstand, she paused at the last second, a strange feeling coming over her.

I...think I need to take this.

Almost as though it had a mind of its own, her finger extended, pressing the green button to accept the call before she could second-guess it.

“Hello?” She lifted the phone to her ear, a nervous sort of anticipation thrumming through her veins.

A man’s voice greeted her.

“Is this Marinette?”

Marinette straightened automatically, recognizing the deep voice on the other end of the line.

“Félix?” His name flew out of her mouth, far more incredulously than she’d intended. On the list of unlikely candidates, Félix Agreste was the very last person she’d expected to call her out of the blue. They had never once spoken on the phone, even after all these years of knowing one another.

How the hell did he even get my number? She wondered, her brows furrowing.

There was a long pause.

Marinette pulled the phone away from her ear, double checking that the line was still connected—it was—and that she wasn’t simply hallucinating—she wasn’t.

“Are you free this evening for dinner?” He asked at length.

“Excuse me?” This couldn’t possibly be happening. She must have fallen out of bed in her sleep and slipped into a coma. Or maybe I died and I’m now in purgatory being forced to live out some kind of cruel ironic punishment for the gods' amusement.

She pinched herself on the leg, hard enough to hurt.

“OUCH!” She yelped, wincing apologetically when she remembered that there was a delicate human eardrum on the other end of the receiver that was being directly funnelled all of her mouth sounds. “Sorry...”

Okay, definitely not dead then, Marinette decided, rubbing her beleaguered flesh with a grimace.

Félix let out a long sigh.

“Are you free this evening?” He bit out, enunciating each word slowly and carefully, as though she was a dunderhead who couldn’t understand the basic principles of language. “For dinner?”

At this point, Marinette was certain she had never been more confused in her life. “I mean, technically yes I suppose? But I don’t understand why you would want to—”

Félix cut her off, all business now that he’d received the confirmation he was looking for.

“Excellent. I will pick you up at seven.”

There was a click. Then the line went dead.

Marinette stared at the phone in her hand in disbelief.

Wait a second… Did Félix Agreste just ASK ME OUT??

And did I just say yes???

She swallowed heavily, feeling suddenly faint. “Well, fuck me.”

-x-

All in all, it took her shockingly little time to get ready.

Besides bathing and changing her clothes, Marinette hadn’t really put much effort into her appearance. After all the time she’d spent contemplating what it might be like to be asked out on a date by Félix Agreste, she was surprisingly numb to the concept now that it was actually happening.

She had spent most of her early teenage years daydreaming about this moment, planning everything down to the most minute details of what she would wear—something pretty but casual, light on the accessories, and complete with her cutest pair of shoes—and how she would style her hair—loose and softly curled in a way that practically begged to be touched.

Yes, she’d imagined it all; all of her hypotheticals lined up neatly in a row, just waiting to live up to her happily ever after.

Now though, after everything that had happened last night—and over the past two weeks in general, really—it was all she could do to drag herself into the shower and out of her pyjamas, elaborate fantasies be damned. Reality had a funny way of asserting itself over even the most ironclad of beliefs.

She’d always believed this would be one of the greatest days of her life.

Félix Agreste had finally asked her out! She should be ecstatic.

Instead, as she stared out over the lake, waiting on the porch for his driver to come and pick her up, she couldn’t muster up the will to care about what Félix thought of how she looked, or what she wore, or much of anything really.

In the end, Marinette didn’t feel much of anything at all.

The sound of the screen door slamming drew her out of her musings.

“You look like you’re heading out somewhere,” her father peered at her curiously, before a look of recognition passed over his face. “Oh, date night, is it? Where are you and Adrien headed to this time?”

Marinette flinched, jerking her head away as she tried to hide the surge of emotion caused by his well-intentioned question.

She and Adrien wouldn’t be going on any more dates. There would be no more walking along the canal, no candlelit dinners in cozy Italian restaurants, no jet ski joyrides. No more summer romance.

In fact, Marinette realized with an unpleasant jolt, her summer vacation was nearly over. She only had a few days left on the lake before she had to return home; to Tikki, and Alya, and the monotony of her day-to-day life in Paris.

A life that had very little of Félix and Adrien Agreste in it.

And potentially even less now, she pressed her lips together, her hands clenching into fists in her lap as she considered for the millionth time whether Adrien had any intention of ever speaking to her again.

After last night, the outlook seemed rather grim.

“No,” she responded dully, overcome by a bone-weary exhaustion. “I’m waiting for Félix.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched as his smile fell.

“Marinette? Is everything okay?” The chair creaked under his weight as he took a seat beside her.

Marinette kept her gaze very carefully averted. She knew that all it would take was one look at her father’s concerned face before she was spilling everything, most likely in a gushing torrent of snot and tears. And even though she didn’t particularly care about her appearance at the moment, there was a difference between not being bothered by whether her top really went with her pants, and Félix showing up to find her looking like a blotchy and puffy-faced snot monster.

She might not have much pride left, but what little she did have was very focused on preventing her from looking too beastly.

Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she went on.

“Félix invited me out. I’m not… seeing Adrien anymore,” she barely managed to choke the last part out, the words feeling thick and unwieldy on her tongue.

“Is that so?” Tom’s voice was level as he considered her. “Sounds like there’s a bit more to the story than that.”

He raised his eyebrows significantly, waiting. It was an unspoken prompt for her to fill him in on some of the details.

Marinette bit her lip, her mouth twisting as she deliberated. It was obvious that he didn't intend to let it go until she gave him a bone. Unfortunately for her, that dogged persistence was something that her father and Alya had in common.

At last, she groaned, letting her head thunk back on the chair’s wooden backrest.

“Okay, fine!” She gave in, launching into the most bare-bones explanation she could muster. Briefly outlining her and Adrien’s plan, Marinette glossed over as many of the details as she could. She didn’t feel up to rehashing the entirety of what had occurred over the last two weeks with her father, knowing without question that he would disapprove of the whole ‘dating one boy to catch another’ scheme.

She burned with shame as she admitted to approaching Adrien, recalling how she’d had to coax him into helping her woo his brother.

Through tears, she recounted how she’d set out to snare Félix, and wound up falling victim to a trap of her own making instead; potentially messing things up so badly that she wasn’t sure whether her friendship with Adrien would ever recover. And she cried just a little bit harder when she confessed how terrified she was by this prospect.

By the time she’d finished speaking, her face was wet with tears, and her father’s was completely blank.

Marinette withheld a wince, his non-reaction speaking volumes. He was dumbstruck and she couldn't exactly blame him. The whole thing was… a lot to take in.

They sat side-by-side for what felt like an eternity, listening to the sounds of the lake around them. The mountain wind whispering its secrets to the leaves. The echo of a distant bird’s song beckoning from across the glittering water.

Her heart clenched.

It was a beautiful summer day, and she'd wasted it in misery.

Marinette scrubbed a hand across her face, dashing the remnants of her tears away. So much for my plan to not cry…

“You know,” Tom began, his eyes unfocused as he stared out over the water, toward some distant point beyond the horizon line. “I’m aware that my skills as a handyman leave something to be desired.”

Marinette blinked, thrown by the non sequitur.

Well, that’s... certainly not what I was expecting.

“In fact, I’m willing to admit that I’m pretty terrible at it. That shelving unit I built in the basement collapsed on me today, and would have taken my head off if I hadn’t been half expecting it,” he laughed sheepishly, massaging the back of his neck. “But you know what? I still enjoy it, in spite of my many failed attempts.” He turned to her now, his green eyes twinkling.

“I also appreciate the fact that you and your mother love me enough to let me keep doing it, even though I know you both would probably like nothing more than to tell me to stop. Because you know it’s something that brings me joy.”

Marinette shrugged apologetically. He had her there.

“Basically, the point I’m trying to make is that sometimes it’s okay to not be completely honest with your loved ones, as long as what you’re doing isn’t hurting anyone.”

He gave her a weighted look.

“But it’s important that you’re honest with yourself too, chérie,” Tom leaned over, wrapping a thick arm around her and giving her a squeeze. “Knowing your heart is the first step.”

“Your maman and I raised you to be strong, and capable, and independent. We recognized and agreed very early on that there would be certain life lessons and decisions that we couldn’t make for you, because they are yours alone to make.”

He smiled down at her, warm and still proud despite what she had just confessed to him. “You turned out to be everything we had hoped for and more.”

Marinette swallowed thickly, willing away the warmth she could feel pooling in her eyes. Damnit, just when I thought I was done with this shit…

Her father released her then, hands falling to his knees as he pushed to his feet. Groaning at the symphony of cracks and pops his joints let out, Tom ambled to the door, pausing at the threshold.

“All I ask is that whatever you’re doing with those boys, you be careful.” He gave her one last long, uncharacteristically serious look, his eyes dark with worry. “Both for your sake, and for theirs.”

And with that, he went inside, the screen door closing with a neat click behind him.

Left alone with her thoughts once again, Marinette bowed her head, overcome by an intense wave of guilt and shame.

Involving her friends in the mess she’d created was bad enough, but knowing that she also risked worrying—and possibly even disappointing—her parents? That might be the worst thing of all.

She clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth as she fought off yet another round of tears.

It seemed like the ripples she had made extended far beyond what she’d initially thought possible, and now everyone was feeling the repercussions of her actions; left to deal with the fallout.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

-x-

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #ml fic recs #no miraculous au #ml fanworks #ml brothers au #childhood friends au #ongoing fic #hypothetically ever after

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aspenmissing · 9 months

Text

𝙼𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

Later that night the Impala is driving down a road. Theo is behind the wheels with Dean is the passenger and Sam is the back, leaning forwards. It seems they've been driving under silence for a while after Theo had told Sam and Dean about what she found out in the past about their mom and family.

"I can't believe it. Mom, a hunter?" Dean says, shocked.

"I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't seen it myself" Theo replies with a smile "That woman could kick some ass. I mean, she almost took me down."

"How'd she look?" Sam asks. He shakes his head and rephrases his question "question I mean... was she happy?"

"Yeah, she was awesome. Funny and smart. So hopeful." Theo says, looking back at Sam for a moment and then back on the road "Dad, too. Until of course..." Sam sighs and looks away.

"What?" Dean asks, turning his head to look at Sam.

"Nothing" Sam replies, shrugging "It's just, our parents. And now we find out our grandparents and granduncle too? Our whole family murdered and for what? So Yellow Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?" Theo goes a bit "huh..?" faced over that last statement, thinking about what she's told Sam and Dean about the past. She looks back at Sam, tilting her head.

"Sam, I never said anything about demon blood." Theo says. Dean looks confused to before furrowing his brows, turning his head to face Sam, who looks guilty.

"You knew about that?" Dean asks. Theo turns to face the road again. Sam still doesn't look at Dean nor Thro through the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah," He admits "for about a year." Dean looks out through the window again before turning his head back forwards.

"A whole year?" Theo asks.

"I should have told you two." Sam replies "I'm sorry."

"You've been saying that a lot lately, Sam." Dean says, shaking head head "But whatever. You don't want to tell us, you don't have to. It's fine."

"Dean" Sam says, looking over at Dean, who continues to look out the front window. Sam then looks to his sister "Theo" She looks at him in the rear-view mirror, furrowed browns and a frown before going back to concentrating on the road "Whatever" He says, leaning back into his seat and sighing.

The three arrive in Missouri, Carthage and they reach Jack Montgomery's house. They all watch him from outside using binoculars.

"Are you sure that's him?" Dean asks, lowering the binoculars down from his eyes and looking back at Sam.

"Only Jack Montgomery in town." Sam answers, looking at Dean.

"And we're looking for..." Dean trails off as Theo lifts up another pair of binoculars of her own to her eyes and looks at Jack drinking a beer.

"Travis said to keep an eye out for anything weird." Sam answers.

"Weird?" Dean questions.

"Yeah" Sam replies.

"Alright, well, yeah, I've seen big weird, little weird, weird with crazy on top. But this guy? I mean, come on, this guy's boring." Theo says, dropping the binoculars to look at Sam.

"I don't know, Dean. Travis seemed pretty sure." Sam says as he lifts up another pair of binoculars to his eyes. Not ever a minute later they watch as Travis begins to have a food craze: he grabs the leftover chicken, and starts eating, not bothering with platers or utensils. He begins to eat frantically, like he's not gotten food in days. He throws the finished chicken aside and grabs a pack of uncooked meat and opens it up and starts eating the raw meat, throwing looks over his shoulder for his wife.

"And I thought I got hungry" Theo says, dropping the binoculars with a disgust expression. The brothers do the same, each having a disgust look.

"I'd say that qualifies as weird." Sam says.

Back at ther motel room, the three comes through the door, and stops as they've just entered, seeing something in their room - A smile coming onto Dean and Theo's lips.

"Travis" Dean says says. Travis is sat by the table, beer in hand. "See, Guys. Told you we should have hidden the beer." Dean says sarcastically.

"Smartass. Get over here" Travis laughs and he and Dean hugs. "Ahh, good to see you"

"You too" Dean replies. The two break apart and Travis looks to Theo, smiling, and holding his arms out for a hug.

“Good to see ya man” Theo says, hugging Travis.

"Still as beautiful as ever, Theodora. Broke any more hearts?" Travis says.

"Quite a few" Theo says, laughing as they break apart from the hug "You've gotten bigger, you’re a lot more huggable" She jokes, making them laugh.

"Good to see you" Travis says,

"You too, Travis" Sam replies. They break and Travis looks up at Sam, huffing out a laugh.

"Man, you got tall, kid." Travis says, making the four of them laugh. "How long has it been?"

"Ah, gotta be 10 years" Sam replies.

"You still a. oh, what was it... a mathlete?" Travis asks. Sam scoffs a little.

"No" He replies. Theo laughs.

"Yep, sure is" She says.

"Been too long, guys. I mean, look at you. Grown men and woman." Travis says, looking between the three "John would have been damn proud of you. Sticking together like this."

"Yeah. Yeah, we're as thick as thieves." Dean says, looking at Sam, who's smile is disappearing with Dean's words. Theo shakes her head, sighing "Nothing more important than family." Travis walks over to the table, as Dean follows, ignoring Sam. Theo places her hand on his arm, smiling at him before following Dean.

"Sorry I'm late for the dance." Travis says as he and Dean sit down at the table, while Theo and Sam sit down on the bed besides Dean, across from Travis. "Thanks for helping out an old man. I'm a little, uh, shorthanded." He indicates his right hand and arm, which is covered in a cast and they laugh "So, you track down Montgomery?"

"Yeah, we found him at his home" Sam replies.

"And" Travis asks.

"Well, he had a hell of a case of the munchies, topped off with a burger he forgot to cook." Theo replies, shivering in disgust as she remembers what she witnessed. "He was eating as if it was his last dinner"

"That's him alright" Travis says.

"What's him?" Dean asks.

"Guys, we got a rougarou on our hands." Travis says.

"A rougarou?" Dean asks. He looks over at Sam and Theo for a second "Is that made up?" He then looks back at Travis before Sam or Theo could answer "That sounds made up"

"Everything sounds made up to you, Dean" Theo mutters, earning her a glare from Dean and a light chuckle from Sam and Travis.

"They're mean, nasty little suckers. Rotted teeth, wormy skin, the works." Travis explains.

"Well, that ain't this guy." Dean says, shaking his head "I mean, he was wearing a cell phone on his belt."

"He'll turn ugly soon enough. They start out human, for all intents and purposes." Travis says.

"So, what? They go through some kind of metamorphosis?" Sam asks.

"Yep, like a maggot turning into a bull fly." Travis replies "But most of all-- they're hungry"

"Hungry for what?" Theo asks.

"At first, for everything, but then... for long pig." Sam exhales at that, understanding what Travis meant. Theo scrunches her face up, also understanding what he means. Dean however looks confused.

"Long pig?" He asks.

"He means human flesh" Sam answers.

"And that is my word of the day" Dean says

"Hunger grows in, till they can't fight it." Travis says "Till they got to take themselves a big, juicy chomp, and then it happens."

"What happens?" Sam asks.

"They transform completely and fast." Travis replies. "One bite's all it takes. Eyes, teeth, skin; all turns. No going back either. They feed once, they're a monster forever. And our man Jack's headed there on a bullet train."

"Well, how'd you find this guy if he's a walking, talking human?" Theo asks.

"Let’s just say it runs in his family." Travis answers.

"You mean, uh..." Sam trails off.

"Killed his daddy back in '78." Travis explains "Son of a bitch mangled 8 bodies before I put him down. Guy used to be a dentist. Cadillac, trophy wife... Little did I know, pregnant trophy wife. She put the boy up for adoption. By the time I found out, he was long gone, lost in the system."

"You mean to tell me you couldn't find someone?" Sam asks, making Travis sigh.

"I'm not sure I wanted to." Travis says, making Dean tilt his head in confusion "The idea of hunting down some poor kid... I don't think I'd have the heart." The siblings nod their heads, knowing they too probably could hunt down a kid "No. I wanted to wait, make damn sure I had the right man. Apparently, I do." The three exchange a look and sigh while Travis takes a swig of the beer.

Dean, Theo and Travis sit by the table, fixing gas cans that look like tiny fire-extinguishers for use.

"So fire, huh?" Dean asks.

"The only way I found to kill these bastards; deep-fry 'em." Travis says, still working on his gas can.

"Well, that's gonna be... horrible." Theo says, tilting her head "Is that what you did to Jack's dad?"

"Uh-huh." Travis replies, not looking up at her. The door to the motel opens and Sam comes into the room, papers in hand.

"Not wasting any time, are you?" Sam asks, walking over to them.

"None to waste." Travis says "The guy hulks out, we won't be finding bodies, just remains." Sam sits down on the bed next to the table.

"What if he doesn't hulk out?" Sam asks, making the three look up at him "I did a little homework. Uh, I've been checking out the lore on rougarous."

"What? My 30 years of experience not good enough for you?" Travis asks, sounding slightly offended.

"What?" Sam asks "No. No, I-I- I just wanted to be prepared. I mean, not that you didn’t."

"Sam loves research." Dean says, making Travis nod "He does. He keeps it under his mattress right next to his KY. It's a sickness." He looks over at Sam "It is. Must have got it from Theo back in the day" Theo gives Dean a side glance, rolling her eyes.

"Look, everything you said checked out, of course, but uh. I found a couple of interesting stories about people who have this rougarou gene or whatever. See, they start to turn, but they never take the final step." Sam explains as Theo and Dean side glance Travis every now and then to see how he acts.

"Really?" Theo asks, surprised and hopeful that they won't have to burn Jack.

"See, if they never eat human flesh, they don't fully transform." Sam says, looking at her.

"So what?" She asks "Go vegan, stay human?"

"Basically. Sam says "Or in this case, eat a lot of raw meat, just not..."

"Long pig" Dean finishes.

"Right" Sam says. Dean and Theo smiles a little, Travis is sat in silence- taking in everything Sam has just said.

"Good on you for the due diligence, Sam." He says, standing up "But those are fairy tales." He walks over to the little pantry and pours himself another cup of coffee "Fact is, every rougarou I ever saw or heard of... took that bite."

"Okay, well, that doesn't mean that Jack will" Sam says, while standing up. Dean and Theo watches Sam rise and then stand up themselves.

"So what do we do?" Travis asks "Sit and hope and wait for a body count?

"No, we talk to him. Explain what's happening. That way he can fight it." Sam says. Theo looks at the papers that Sam brought in with him, Dean standing beside her and looking too.

"Fight it?" Travis asks, laughing "Are you kidding me? You ever been really hungry?" Both Theo and Dean look up at Travis in unison "I mean, haven't-eaten-in-days hungry?"

"Yeah" Dean replies and Theo nods.

"Definitely" She says.

"Yeah. Right then. So, somebody slaps a big, juicy sirloin in front of you, you walking away?" Theo sighs and lowers her head, knowing the answer. Dean looks thoughtful for a second and then admits "no" without words, only raising of eyebrows. He and Theo slowly looks over at Sam. "That's what we are to him now, meat on legs." Dean looks back down at the paper in Theo's hand while Theo looks between Travis and Sam "I'm sorry. I'm sure he's a stand-up guy, but it's pure, base instinct. Everything in nature's gotta eat. You think he can stop himself 'cause he's nice?"

"I don't know." Sam says with a firm and serious tone "But we're not gonna kill him unless he does something to get killed for." Dean and Theo looks over at him at that. Sam takes a few breaths and then walks out of the room. Travis looks over at Dean and Theo, a bit puzzled by Sam's reaction.

"What's up with your brother?" He asks. Dean and Theo look over at the door and Dean turns to Travis.

"Don't get me started" Dean replies as he turns to sit down again. Theo sighs.

"He's just always thinking of the good side of people" She says, sitting down at the table.

"Well, it's going to get him killed one day" Travis says "Not everyone is good, and they will use that against him, Theo" She nods.

"I know, I know." She says. "And he knows it to it's just that he finds it hard to comprehend killing someone who looks like he's a victim rather than the monster"

"Well, he better start looking at them at being a monster, or he's gonna mess up and people will be killed" Travis says, turning his back to them. Dean sits down at the table and looks at his sister.

"Sammy's always been like that" Dean says. She looks up at him "That's why he is the best of us" She nods, smiling.

"We did good, huh?" Theo asks, smiling. Dean nods, chuckling lightly.

"Hell, yeah we did" He replies.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #oc insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom

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sherlollyandspoilers · 10 months

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We’re worth it, Chapter 18, October 3rd

Chapters 1 through 17 of We’re worth it can be found here

Here be Dragons is the original fic that this fic is a companion piece for - HBD timeline: right before chapter 16

“Alright you two,” Molly stood in June’s waiting room, hand rubbing her very pregnant belly, lecturing the Holmes brothers, “there is no point in going in there and not just being open and honest. All that will do is frustrate all three of you, make June’s job ten times harder, and waste her time.” Sherlock opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. “I’m not actually talking to you.” She turned her gaze on Mycroft. “If you are not willing to go in there and talk through the stuff between the two of you, just go home now. Sherlock and I have plenty of other things to discuss.”

Mycroft sighed and folded his hands in his lap. “If that had been my intentions, I wouldn’t have even bothered to show up.”

“Good!” She smiled. “Have fun. Sherlock, I’ll see you at home.”

June swallowed hard. She stood staring at her office door, not moving. During her career there had been very few things that had taken her by complete surprise but the phone call she had gotten from a secure government line not even ten minutes after Sherlock and Molly’s first session ended had definitely surprised her. And within 10 minutes of having taken that call, she was in an unidentifiable government vehicle on her way to a secure meeting. This was the first and only time she had met Mycroft Holmes and after 40 minutes of listening to him talk at her, her clearance level had been raised and she left the meeting with a severe warning that the loss of her career would not be the worst thing that would happen to her if she ended up sharing what Sherlock and Molly disclosed in session.

Now she was going to sit in a therapy session with this man for the next fifty minutes and ask him questions about how he felt…her life was weird.

“I know that this session was mostly Molly’s idea, but my assumption is that you two both have things on your mind,” she prompted after they both went silent when the small talk ended.

Sherlock frowned and cleared his throat, “Sometimes it’s hard knowing your brother is in love with your fiancé.”

“And sometimes it’s hard being in love with your brother’s fiancé.”

“I didn’t think you two had officially gotten re-engaged?” June asked with a furrowed brow, confused.

“Formalities,” the two responded simultaneously.

June nodded and suppressed a giggle. “Mycroft I am very interested in hearing what you have to say but knowing how Sherlock typically responds in sessions when he has not been able to express what is going on in his brain, I think I would like to let him expound on his comment first.” Mycroft inclined his head towards her slightly but didn’t say anything. “Sherlock?”

He scrunched his face in concentration, taking his time to gather his thoughts. “Molly shared with me once that she believed had I never come home that she would have eventually moved on with Mycroft.” June watched Mycroft for any reaction to this statement, but he looked as if he was listening to information he had heard a hundred times over. “I was hurt, jealous, and angry but I had been surprised by how much I had needed to hear her explanation.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees, as he often did when talking out difficult topics. “As I listened, her relationship with my brother became clearer to me and I started to understand what he meant to her.” He paused a moment, one side of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “I understood it…not necessarily liking it.” Sitting back, he sighed, “A few days later he and I actually came to an agreement with one another because Molly wanted both of us in her life.”

June nodded and let them sit in silence for a moment, giving them both time, if needed, to process what Sherlock had just said. “Can you tell me about that conversation?” she finally asked.

“After several jabs at each other, in the end we both agreed to move on as it was what was best for Molly…” Sherlock paused for a moment, his eyes unfocused on the present, replaying the past in his mind. “I had been annoyed when Mycroft told me he hadn’t set out to fall in love with Molly but when he told me she had become his best friend, I understood it better.”

“In what way?”

“When I finally let Molly in, it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend, the person I wanted to be around all the time, to tell everything to…it also reminded me of how hard I had worked to keep Molly at a distance when I first met her but even then she had easily worked her way into my mind.” He looked at Mycroft for the first time since he started talking. “How could you have not fallen in love with her?”

Mycroft seemed to think about this but didn’t say anything.

“Mycroft?” June prompted. He looked at her, eyebrow raised, she realized not in question but in concentration.

“The hardest part of being in love with Molly Hooper has always been and will always be that she is in love with Sherlock. Unquestionably and whole heartedly.”

Sherlock frowned at Mycroft’s statement, sitting forward again. He opened and closed his mouth, doing his best to fight off the instant anger Mycroft’s words had caused. He grasped his hands tightly together and breathed.

“What about Mycroft’s words have upset you?” June asked quietly, giving him time to gather himself.

“The way you phrased that statement,” he said, body tense, “made it sound like it was something you knew from the very beginning.”

“Yes?” Mycroft questioned.

“Then why in the hell did you kiss her that night?!” Sherlock sat up, back straight, ridged. “If you knew she loved me and has always loved me and will always love me, why?!”

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but June let Sherlock’s question hang in the air.

“I…” he stopped and cleared his throat. “Did Molly ever tell you what I asked her after I kissed her?”

“You asked her something?” Sherlock asked in surprise, realizing that Molly and he never talked about exactly what had taken place between the two of them that night.

He nodded and cleared his throat again. “I asked her what would have happened if you hadn’t come back…I knew what trajectory our lives were on prior to you coming home and I wanted to hear Molly acknowledge it.”

“What made you want to hear that?” June questioned.

“She’s my best friend and I was tired of keeping an unspoken thing between us…I knew it wasn’t going to change who she was engaged to, but I needed to hear it.” June nodded her understanding. “She wouldn’t have loved me the way she loves you.” He looked at his little brother. “I wasn’t holding any delusional beliefs that it would have been the same.”

“Is that really the kind of life you would have wanted for both of you?”

Mycroft’s brow furrowed and his frown deepened at June’s words. “What do you mean?” he asked, turning back to her.

“You said that Molly wouldn’t have loved you the way she loved Sherlock had you two gotten together…would you have wanted to live with knowing that she loved someone else more? And for Molly, would you have wanted her to be in a relationship where her whole heart wasn’t in it?”

Mycroft considered for a moment. “Any kind of love from Molly is more than I deserve. But for Molly? No, I don’t think I would want that kind of life for her, ever.”

Sherlock seemed to relax at Mycroft’s words.

He turned back to his brother. “To answer your question, why did I kiss her that night – because I was being selfish. I was struggling with balancing the emotions of being proud of you as your brother for making the right decisions with the emotions of grieving the loss of the future that I was never going to have with Molly.”

Sherlock stared at him for a moment longer before simply nodding and looking back at June who was still recovering from the incredibly self-aware statement that had just come out of Mycroft’s mouth.

“Uhh, Sherlock,” she said getting her footing again, “I want to back up a moment.” He nodded at her. “When I asked you to expand on your first statement, sometimes it’s hard knowing your brother is in love with your fiancé, you shared a conversation you had previously had with Molly and why it had been difficult for you then…but I would like for you to share how this continues to be difficult for you.”

Sherlock shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with the emotions he was experiencing, so he was leaning forward again.

She gave him a reassuring smile, “I know that you are used to only sharing your emotions with Molly or your therapists, and that in front of others, you typically shove them down or avoid them, but I think in this instance, it would be helpful for you both.” He nodded and took another moment to regulate.

“At first I believed that I was jealous that Molly had thought about moving on with Mycroft but after working in therapy, I realized that what makes knowing he loves her hard are my own self-deprecating thoughts.” June frowned and he cleared his throat. “Fine, deprecating might be putting it mildly…these thoughts tend towards self-hatred.”

June noticed that as Sherlock talked, Mycroft seemed to be struggling with what he was hearing.

“These thoughts reinforce my insecurities, which in the past few years have hyper-focused on not being good enough for Molly and constantly letting her down.” He sighed and sat back. “As those thoughts mix in my mind with the knowledge that there is someone else who is better for her, knowing he loves her becomes an extremely difficult truth to live with.”

“I can see how that would make knowing he loves her difficult for you.” Sherlock nodded at her words. “Now, and Mycroft,” she quickly interrupted herself, “please do not take this for anything more than what my words are…Sherlock, there is no one else better for Molly.” He furrowed his brow. “She has made it very clear that she loves you completely and that she wants to be with you. She has chosen you, which is why no one else is better for that role.”

Sherlock looked down at his hands smiled, “Molly has said the same thing.”

“She is a very intelligent woman.”

“She is,” both brothers agreed with her. She smiled at the two.

“Now, Mycroft,” he pulled his eyes off the floor and looked at her, “I noticed that when Sherlock was talking, you seemed uncomfortable.”

He nodded in agreement and looked at Sherlock for a moment before looking back at June. “Despite our differences and disagreements, I have always cared for my brother.” Sherlock tilted his head as he listened. “Assuming that he struggled with accepting himself is very different than hearing that he struggles with not hating himself.” Mycroft shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I must admit that I feel my behaviors in the past have contributed significantly to this.”

June nodded as she let Mycroft’s words hang in the air for a moment.

“Sherlock, can you share with Mycroft what you have learned about where your self-hatred most likely stems from?” she asked.

Sherlock nodded and rattled off the words he had heard so many times, “You and my recovery therapist believe that my never-ending negative thought patterns and self-hatred were caused by my unresolved trauma which was reinforced by my destructive and self-sabotaging behaviors.”

June nodded at him before turning back to Mycroft. “It is usual for family members to struggle when they find out that a loved one is dealing with internal hatred and intrusive thoughts, but Sherlock’s trauma is not as simple as you having kept Eurus a secret. As I understand it, Sherlock suppressed his memories long before you lied to your parents about Eurus’ death, correct?” Mycroft nodded. “While I will not lie to you and tell you that your actions had no effect on how your brother sees himself, I will point out that his trauma started before then.”

June could tell Mycroft was processing what she had just said, so she let the silence settle over them.

After a few minutes, she cleared her throat, “Sherlock has shared that you two have spoken about all of the secrets that were kept surrounding Eurus…is there anything else regarding that situation either of you still feel needs to be discussed?”

Sherlock shook his head, but Mycroft turned towards him. “I am sincerely sorry for how I handled the situation with our sister.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but faltered and closed it. Clearing his throat after a moment, he continued, “I hope that as we move forward, we continue to work together to do what is best for her and for our family as a whole…I am also sorry for my actions and my words when you first returned. I was selfish and angry, doing and saying things that I wish I could take back.”

Sherlock sat for a moment before speaking, “And I am s –” June cleared her throat and he glanced at her; she had an eyebrow raised in expectation. “Thank you, I appreciate hearing that.” She gave him a reassuring nod. “I think us continuing to work together is what is best for Eurus.” Mycroft gave him a curt nod. “I feel I should apologize for some of my behaviors when I first got home as well…I am sorry I acted childish then.” Mycroft rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I never properly thanked you for being there for Molly when I couldn’t be. You helped her shoulder the emotional toll of not being able to tell the truth about me and I know how much that meant to her…I also I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for her and Mina over the last year while I was lost in my own head.”

#kate writes #isb #sherlolly

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rubysunnday · 3 years

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reluctant caretaker

A/N: this is a very self indulgent fic, lol. it’s a comfort one for me right now

summary: having three younger siblings often meant Y/N was put in charge of looking after them. But sometimes her older siblings need some help too.

Aka, eight times Y/N did Anthony's job for him and one time he became her father

The trouble with having three younger siblings was that Y/N often got waylaid with looking after them and keeping them occupied. She didn't mind it - it was actually quite enjoyable to watch Hyacinth attack Gregory and to help Francesca with her pianoforte.

But sometimes, Y/N found herself becoming an older sibling to her own older siblings. When the weight of their responsibilities became too much, Y/N was there, like a rock that survives countless storms.

Hyacinth

Hyacinth and Y/N were two of the closest Bridgerton siblings in the entire household. They'd been close ever since Hyacinth's birth - the two becoming thick as thieves despite the years between them.

Hyacinth's beautiful, angelic face often helped Y/N escape the wrath of Anthony whenever Y/N snuck out the house and Y/N returned the favour by helping Hyacinth hide from the siblings she upset and by supporting her chaos.

It was a quiet day in the library and Y/N was minding her own business, organising the books and cleaning the room in general. The library had become a special place for her - her safety room,

“Y/N, hide me!” Hyacinth squeaked, skidding around the corner and running directly into Y/N’s legs.

“Wait, what?” Y/N asked, frowning, stumbling at the force of her little sister running into her. She grabbed

“Just, help me!” Hyacinth repeated, her eyes pleading.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony bellowed, his voice bouncing off the walls. Y/N could hear him marching up the stairs towards the library.

Y/N’s head shot up at the bellow and looked down at her little sister with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“Please, I’ll tell you afterwards,” Hyacinth said, begging.

Y/N sighed and looked around for somewhere to hide Hyacinth. The library was big and didn’t have any decent hiding places. Y/N lifted her long dress up.

“I swear, Hyacinth, you owe me,” she replied as Hyacinth crawled under the fabric, pulling it over her body. Y/N arranged her layers of skirt over her little sister and then pulled her shawl around too.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony bellowed again as he stormed into the room. He spotted Y/N organising the books and turned to her. “Y/N, have you seen Hyacinth?”

Y/N shook her head and shrugged. “No, I have not. Sorry, brother.”

Anthony growled. “If you do, send her to me.”

“Why, what has she done?” Y/N asked innocently.

“She put a frog in my desk drawer,” Anthony snapped. “It’s hopping around the house, Colin is trying to catch it.”

Y/N tried not laugh, pressing her lips together. “Oh. Of course, if I see her, I shall send her to you.”

Anthony stormed off, out of the library. Y/N lifted her skirt up and narrowed her eyes down at Hyacinth.

“A frog, seriously?” She asked as Hyacinth crawled out.

“He took my book away,” Hyacinth replied, looking like an innocent angel.

Y/N rolled her eyes and shoved Hyacinth towards the door. “Shoo, I do not want to get in trouble with Anthony.”

Hyacinth rang off and Y/N resumed looking for her book.

“Hyacinth!”

Y/N burst out laughing as she heard Anthony bellow at Hyacinth, his yell quickly followed by Hyacinth’s shriek and the sound of someone charging down the stairs. Y/N shook her head and smiled, laughing as she heard more yelling and shrieking from her sister.

Gregory

Y/N walked past Gregory’s room and glanced in as she passed. She paused and walked back, taking a look at Gregory and noticing him crying.

Y/N knocked on his door. “Gregory, what’s wrong?”

Gregory sniffed, wiping his eyes as he looked up at his big sister. “My mouse died,” he said softly, hiccuping.

Y/N’s eyes softened and she walked into her brother’s room, crouching down on the floor next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Greg, I am sorry, darling,” Y/N said, stroking his hair.

Gregory had found the mouse lurking in the kitchens one night and - despite the rest of the family telling him to get rid of it - Gregory had kept it, named it and given it a home.

And it had stayed in Gregory’s room for the past three months. Y/N had grown accustomed to checking in on the mouse whenever she went into her brother’s room and knew how closed he’d gotten to the rodent.

“Colin took him away,” Gregory whispered, more tears leaking out his eyes. “And I do not want to leave him but mother is insisting on everyone going to the party -”

“Hey, Gregory, calm down,” Y/N said gently. “We do not have to do anything with your mouse until you are ready. And I will stay by your side this entire party, alright?”

Gregory nodded and gave her a watery smile. “Thank you, sister.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to his head. “Always.”

The floorboard outside Gregory’s room creaked and Y/N turned and looked to see who it was. Anthony stood outside the door, dressed in his waistcoat with his shirtsleeves rolled up, and gave her a smile, mouthing a thank you to Y/N.

Y/N nodded and gave him a returning smile.

Francesca

Y/N eyed Colin. “Brother, that waistcoat is beginning to look a little snug.”

Colin let out a gasp and turned to face her. “How dare you!” He said, hand flying to his chest. “I was not going to say anything but your dresses are beginning to look a bit tight.”

Y/N gasped and whacked Colin’s arm, dodging the shove he aimed at her. “Colin!”

The front door slammed shut and Y/N looked up as Francesca stormed towards them.

“Hey, Franny,” Y/N greeted, smiling.

Francesca didn’t acknowledge her. She shoved past her and Colin and Y/N got a glimpse at her tear stained face as she ran past.

“Francesca!” Colin called, brow furrowing in concern at how upset his sister was.

“Leave me alone!” Francesca yelled, running up the stairs. A few moments later, her door slammed shut.

“Oh, I will go,” Y/N muttered, heading up the stairs after her sister. “Maybe run around the block and work off the bacon you ate at lunch.”

Colin gasped and let out a stuttered mess of insulted sounds as Y/N laughed and walked up the stairs.

Francesca had shut the door behind her but didn’t lock the door. Y/N knocked gently on the door but when she didn’t hear her sister reply, she opened the door and walked inside.

Francesca had dramatically flung herself face down on her bed and was quietly sobbing, her shoulders shaking.

“Oh, Franny,” Y/N said quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her sister and putting a hand on her back, rubbing it gently.

Y/N had no idea what was wrong or what had happened to upset Francesca so much, but she didn’t need to know the specifics. Her sister was upset and needed her big sister on her side.

“Anthony is horrible,” Francesca sobbed. “He said such horrible things about the Earl of Kilmartin and he knows I like him, Y/N/N, he knows.”

Y/N sighed, stroking Francesca’s hair, twirling it around her finger. “Anthony is... well he is Anthony. He is very protective of us, Franny - he had to become a parental figure to all of us when he was barely an adult. I do not blame him for having his reservations about the Earl but know that anything Anthony says is... the majority of the time out of love.”

Francesca rolled over onto her side and looked up at her sister with teary eyes. “Can you talk to him?”

Y/N smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Francesca’s ear. “Of course I can, my love. I shall tell him how ridiculous he is being and that you do not want to hear another word out of him until he can say something nice.”

Francesca giggled and sat up, hugging her sister tightly. “Thank you, sister. Truly.”

Y/N returned the hug. “Anything for you, Francesca.”

Eloise

Y/N concentrated on walking down the stairs, holding the hem of her dress up so that she didn’t trip over. She still wasn’t use to heels.

“You look like a newborn foal, Y/N,” Benedict called, eyeing her with a laugh as she gripped the bannister tightly.

“I detest these heels,” she muttered, taking Benedict’s offered hand and letting him guide her down the rest of the stairs.

“Do not let Eloise hear you say that, she will go off on a rant,” Benedict teased.

It was if mentioning her twin sister’s name summoned her. Eloise suddenly burst out of Anthony’s office in a flurry of expensive silks and tears and ran past Y/N and Benedict. Both siblings stared after her, wincing when the door slammed loudly, shaking the walls.

“What is it with my siblings and running past me in tears?” Y/N asked, despairing. “This is the third time in as many weeks! What did you say, Anthony?” Y/N asked, turning to face her eldest brother with a hefty sigh.

“I merely mentioned her debut again and she got upset,” Anthony replied, shaking his head. “I shall talk to her.”

“No, do not even think about it,” Y/N said, halting Anthony by stepping in front of him. “You will make it worse. I shall go.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’ll come too,” Benedict called.

Y/N paused on the stairs and raised her eyebrows at him. She snorted. “Oh, this will be entertaining.”

Benedict gave her a confused look but shrugged, following after Y/N as she walked up the stairs and to Eloise’s room. Every time Eloise’s debut was brought up, she was bound to get upset or angry. It was the one subject that made her loose her judgement and her cool exterior.

Benedict knocked twice on Eloise’s door. “Eloise?”

“Go away, Benedict!” Eloise yelled and something hit the door with a hefty thud/

Benedict looked vaguely offended and took a step back from the door with a frown.

Y/N smiled to herself and chuckled. “That is exactly what I thought would happen,” she said, crossing her arms and looking up at her brother. “She thinks you’re going to gang up on her.”

“But I’m not going to.”

“Yes, but try telling that to an emotional teenager who’s big brother has upset her,” Y/N replied. “Go downstairs, I will be ten minutes.”

Benedict grumbled but trudged off down the corridor. Y/N waited for him to disappear and then gently knocked on Eloise’s bedroom door.

“El, it’s me,” Y/N called.

There was silence and then the door was unlocked and Eloise appeared, her eyes red.

“How do you do it?” Eloise asked, sniffing.

Y/N frowned. “Do what?”

“Be perfect. Be the perfect daughter and sister all the time,” Eloise elaborated. “I cannot do it and it is so difficult to pretend.”

Y/N smiled at her. “I have been practicing for years, darling Eloise. It is all an act. I am not perfect and certainly not perfect all the time. I am merely perfect enough that mother and Anthony forget about my flaws.”

“How did you get through your debut?” Eloise asked and Y/N could see the genuine fear in her eyes. “How do you cope with all those people looking and watching.”

“For my debut, I relied on Colin,” Y/N replied honestly. “He never left my side unless I was absolutely certain I could manage on my own. Unlike Anthony, there was no judgement or constant interrogation of the suitors. He just listened to me. And after a while, the constant watching and looking does not bother you. It becomes background noise.”

Eloise dropped her head onto the edge of her door and closed her eyes. “I have hardly even begun and I am already exhausted.”

“I know.”

Y/N reached out her hand and grabbed her twin sister’s. Eloise squeezed her hand in return and gave her a tired smile.

“But I will be with you every step of the way, sister,” Y/N promised.

Daphne

Daphne and Y/N had never been particularly close. They were complete opposites growing up - much like Eloise and Daphne were now - and were constantly arguing with one another. But ultimately, they did love each other.

As Y/N grew up, she looked to Daphne for help and guidance and her sister had provide it. But Y/N could tell that her sister was struggling. With her new life as a duchess, as a mother and as a wife.

“Daphne.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

The two were enjoying afternoon tea in the sprawling garden of Hastings House, watching the swans in the lake nearby.

“Are you alright?”

Daphne set her tea down and looked at Y/N. Y/N reached out a hand across the table and gripped Daphne’s, rubbing her thumb over the back of it and giving her a smile.

And that was all it took for Daphne to break down crying at the little table they sat at.

Y/N moved her chair to sit next to her sister and put her arms around her, comforting her as she cried. She didn’t have a clear idea of what Daphne was going through - being a mother was hard in its own right. But Daphne was also running an estate, being a duchess and also trying to navigate high society.

“You know, I am not a mother - or a duchess, for that fact - but what I do know is that I do not know anyone who is stronger than you, Daph. Mother does not count,” Y/N added quickly, noticing Daphne lifting her head up to object.

Daphne gave her sister a watery, emotion filled smile and sat up, taking a deep breath in. “Thank you, sister.”

Y/N smiled, picking her cup of tea up again. “You are welcome. Now, do we have anymore of those biscuits?”

Colin

Y/N was having deja vu.

What was it with her siblings and locking themselves in their rooms whilst crying?

“Someone should go talk to Colin,” Anthony said quietly, setting his newspaper down.

There was an obvious empty space at the breakfast table in between Benedict and Y/N where Colin usually sat. Ever since the Marina incident, Colin had hardly spoken or come out of his room. Wisely, no one had said anything about it. Violet was engrossed in Lady Whistledown, Hyacinth and Gregory were, for once, behaving themselves, and Eloise was quietly cutting her pear up into thin silces.

“He won’t listen to me,” Benedict replied quickly, taking a bite of his toast.

“I am the last person he will want to speak to,” Anthony added, sighing.

The two older brothers both turned to look at Y/N.

Y/N, who was mid bite of her apple, turned to look at them. “What?”

“Well, you are good with crying siblings,” Anthony began.

“Only because you are normally the one who has upset them,” Y/N countered, turning back to her breakfast,

Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Y/N.”

“Oh, fine,” Y/N grumbled, shoving her chair back loudly. “I should really be getting paid for this, honestly.”

Colin’s room was next door to Y/N’s. She paused outside it and sighed.

“This is deja vu,” Y/ muttered, raising a hand, knocking hard on the door. “Colin?”

Colin didn’t reply. Y/N dropped her head on the door and sighed. She grabbed the handle and twisted it, hoping it was open. It swung open with a creak and Y/N poked her head around the wood.

Colin was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with red eyes. He lifted his head and looked at her.

“Hi,” Y/N said quietly, closing the door behind herself and walking further into the room. “You left me on my own at breakfast.”

“Sorry,” Colin muttered.

Y/N walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, nudging Colin to move further over to let her lie down next to him. Colin shuffled over and Y/N laid down next to him, not caring that she was crinkling her dress or ruining her hair.

Colin didn’t talk. Y/N wasn’t expecting him to. But she also wasn’t expecting him to lift his arm up and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Y/N let out a surprised noise but returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his side as best she could.

“Just so you know, they all practically drew straws as to who would come and talk to you,” Y/N said, her voice muffled by Colin’s waistcoat.

“Well, you are an expert now,” Colin replied, his voice a little croaky. “Four siblings now?”

“Do not even get me started, Colin,” Y/N replied, laughing softly. “When I eventually have an emotional break and lock myself in my room, you all better take it in bloody turns.”

Colin laughed, hitting her shoulder as she swore. His laughter faded and he tightened his arms around her but Y/N didn’t mind. It was often the two of them had a moment just them with no one watching or staring.

“Listen, if you come to breakfast I will not throw my orange peel at you,” Y/N said, lifting her head up. “I will happily give you the bits of my bacon that I do not like.”

“Will you give me your extra sausage?” Colin asked.

“I will give you all of my bacon if you give me a sausage,” Y/N countered.

Colin unwrapped his arm from around Y/N’s shoulders and held his hand out to her. “The deal is the deal.”

Y/N snorted. “You did not just quote my favourite book at me,” Y/N said, widening her eyes.

Colin shrugged but his eyes were twinkling for the first time in a few days. Y/N giggled and dropped her head on to a pillow.

“I hate you,” Y/N groaned.

“No you do not,” Colin replied, all but shoving Y/N off his bed. “Now, you have promised me your bacon.”

Benedict

Y/N looked up as another ball of paper whizzed past her head, missing the bin and landing behind it. The bin was beginning to disappear underneath the numerous scrunched up balls of paper. Y/N wisely didn’t say anything, turning back to her book.

Benedict growled, ripping another piece of paper out his sketchbook and launched it at the bin. It missed the bin entirely and smacked Y/N in the head, landing in her lap.

“Sorry,” Benedict called.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. She picked up the ball of paper and opened it, smoothing it out against the front of her book. “What’s wrong with this?”

Benedict looked up. “The shading is all wrong, the body looks weird...” Benedict sighed and ripped another piece of paper out. He threw it at the bin but it hit Y/N again.

“Alright, do I need to move or are you going to stop hitting me with balls of paper?” Y/N asked, closing her book and raising her eyebrows. “I can move the bin closer.”

“Sorry,” Benedict sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head back.

Y/N looked at her brother. She unfolded her legs and stood up, walking up to him. She took the sketchbook from his hands and flipped through it.

“What is wrong with these?” Y/N asked, frowning as she perched herself on the arm of the chair her brother was sat in, leaning on his shoulder.

“They do not look... right.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“The angle is weird -”

“Then move the object or move yourself,” Y/N said simply.

“It isn’t just that,” Benedict said. “Every drawing I do I find myself comparing it to other works of art.”

“But they’re not your style,” Y/N replied. “You cannot compare a Van Gogh to a Holbein because they are completely different styles. You just have to find your own style, Benedict.”

“When did you get so wise?” Benedict asked, looking up at her with genuine admiration and curiosity.

“Oh, I think it is due to the constant pep talks I have to keep giving my siblings,” Y/N said, smiling, pretending to ruffle her imaginary feathers.

Benedict smiled. He nodded to the chair opposite him. “Go sit over there.”

“Why?”

“Just sit over there,” Benedict insisted, shoving her off the arm of the chair.

Y/N sat down on the chair and frowned at him. “Are you going to draw me?!”

“Well, you said move the object.”

“Wait, you were drawing me?!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Hush, you,” Benedict called, pressing a finger to his lips. “I am concentrating.”

Y/N giggled but didn’t move, just smoothed her skirt out and picked up her book again.

Anthony

“Y/N!”

Y/N looked up with a frown, trying to work out if she had heard her name or not. Deciding she hadn’t, Y/N returned to the pianoforte, plonking the keys with no real intention.

“Y/N!”

Anthony stormed into the room and came to a sudden halt as he spotted Y/N sat at the pianoforte. “Y/N, did you not hear me yelling?”

Y/N frowned and looked up. “Did you yell for me?” She asked.

“Yes!” Anthony exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “How did you not hear me?” Y/N looked pointedly at the pianoforte. “Yes, alright, point made, now come with me.”

Anthony turned on his heel and marched off. Y/N quickly stood up, almost tripping over the leg of the stool as she ran after her brother.

“Anthony, slow down a moment!” Y/N called, barely keeping up with her older brother’s long legs. “Anthony!”

Y/N ran down the stairs, somehow skipping the last three, and following Anthony into his office. He stopped suddenly in the doorway and turned to face Y/N.

Y/N, who hadn’t lost the momentum she’d gained running down the stairs, ran full pelt into her brother’s chest and squeaked as she lost her balance.

“Carefully!” Anthony exclaimed, grabbing her arms and holding her up.

“You are the one who stopped!” Y/N yelled back. “What on earth is the matter?”

Anthony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, there is just an awful lot happening, I did not mean to panic you.”

“Anthony, just take a minute to breathe,” Y/N said. “What do you need me for?”

“We have been invited to the Queen’s garden party, and I wanted to know if you were interested in coming,” Anthony said, turning and walking up to his desk. He pulled out the invite from amongst the rest of his paperwork and handed it to her.

Y/N ran her eyes over it and shrugged with a nod. “Yes, I suppose.”

Anthony nodded but Y/N could see that he wasn’t paying her any attention. Y/N sat down in front of his desk.

“Anthony, what is wrong?” Y/N asked softly, nudging his foot with hers when he didn’t reply. “Anthony?”

“There is just a lot going on with the estates, the land, your debut, Eloise’s debut, Benedict and Colin.” Anthony sighed and dropped his head. “I do not know how father managed it all.”

“Well, in all fairness, Anthony, our father was raised and taught how to do it. He had years of practice you were not even out of Eaton when you had to take over,” Y/N replied, folding her hands into her lap. “All of this stress is understandable, brother.”

Anthony looked at his sister with a wistful gaze. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“That is exactly what Benedict said the other day,” Y/N replied, smiling. “And all I did was tell him to stop throwing paper at me.”

Anthony chuckled. He stepped around his desk and came over to Y/N, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Oh, what would we do without you, Y/N?”

“Well, I would imagine that the house would be on fire by now and Eloise would have ran off to anywhere else in the country,” Y/N replied, smirking.

Anthony shoved her gently and Y/N giggled, resting her head on his arm.

Y/N

Her hands were shaking. She could feel the panic overwhelming her like a tidal wave and her stays felt suffocating even though Y/N knew they weren’t tight.

All she had to do was get through tonight and then everything, should be, fine. All she had to do was get through her first ball and then everything would get better.

Y/N felt her eyes begin to sting and her throat close and took a shaky deep breath in as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself but also didn’t look like herself. An imitation of herself looked back at her.

She had never been this nervous before. It was unusual for her to be this panicked and scared before a big event. Y/N let out a little sob and sank down into her chair, burying her face in her hands to try and control her emotion.

Someone knocked on her door and Y/N quickly tried to make herself look presentable and not like she’d been crying.

“Y/N, come on,” Anthony called, walking in, the floorboards creaking under his feet, “we are all waiting.”

“I will be down in a second,” Y/N called, frantically trying to touch up her make up.

Anthony walked around the corner and stopped. He knew Y/N and could see when she was putting a mask on and pretending. He could see her red eyes, her shaking hands, and instantly knew something was wrong.

“Y/N, what is wrong?” Anthony asked softly, slowly approaching her.

Y/N turned and looked at her brother over her shoulder. He gave her a soft, comforting smile, and she instantly broke down, her shoulders shaking and her hands hiding her face.

Anthony rushed over and knelt down in front of her, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her into his chest as she sobbed.

“Alright, calm down, you’re ok,” Anthony whispered, rubbing circles on her back.

“I don’t think I can do this, Anthony,” Y/N sobbed, clinging onto him tightly. “I don’t know if I can be perfect like Daphne was.”

“You do not have to be perfect,” Anthony said, taking her face between his hands and making her look at him. “You just have to be you. And we will be with you every step of the way.”

Y/N nodded and sighed tiredly. She took a deep breath in and straightened up as Anthony wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Ready?” Anthony asked, standing up and offering her a hand.

“As I will ever be,” Y/N replied with a smile, taking his hand.

#Bridgerton #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton!sis #sister reader #platonic #platonic imagine #bridgerton sister #imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines

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lilxberry · 3 years

Text

Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao.

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

_______________

You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

_______________

Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

_______________

You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

_______________

I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom.

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!”

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

��Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1978 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius @pan-pride-12

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worth-more-than-two-thousand · 3 years

Text

Omega’s Observations

Request: Congrats on starting the blog!! Pumped to have a new writer's work to read 🥰 If you need some requests, how about an echo/gn!medic reader who he develops a crush on, for a little of that sweet sweet mutual pining action✨ Dunno if you write pre-citadel or just BB echo, but I'm happy with either. Have a good weekend!! :) (@krussyfed)

Author’s Note: Whew! This took a while for me to get to a place where I felt good about posting it. Honestly, as most of my writing does, it got a bit away from me, but that’s because I love fleshing out a story, showing-not-telling, and building on events from the canon. But if I saw this through until the end, I probably wouldn’t end up posting this for months! So I hope what I have here is worth the wait, and if you want more, let me know!

Story Notes: Unbeta’ed, no obvious warnings.

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Ask her brothers to describe her, and ‘still and quiet’ would not be two of the words any of them would use.

Hunter would call her curious to a fault, then ruffle her hair to let her know that he meant it in the nicest way possible.

Wrecker would boom with laughter, proclaiming her one of them (“Always ready for action and adventurin’! Let’s go get those gundarks!”).

Tech would probably consider for a moment, then use a four-syllable word. Like effervescent.

Echo would call her young and energetic, but his brow would furrow as though this might be a bad thing. Then he would inevitably follow up with a reminder to stay within sight and keep out of trouble. She didn’t mind. She knew he just worried about her. Omega would always reassure him that she would keep close to her brothers. Of course, whether it actually happened was usually another thing.

Crosshair, if he was with them, would probably call her troublesome.

But really, this was a tactical advantage. Her brothers never expected her to be still and quiet, so she could settle in and be observant when it was least expected of her.

Omega was actually quite accustomed to being taciturn, at least when she needed to be. Her time with Nala Se, after all, was mostly like this.

Watching over like a stone guardian as Nala Se pored over the capsules containing her modified brothers…

...being as unobtrusive as possible during another endless meeting with Lama Su…

...laying noiselessly and without complaint as Nala Se inserted a needle into her arm for yet another blood sample…

These days, Omega could be as boisterous and vivacious (two more words Tech had taught her) as she wanted to be, so long as there was no chance of enemies being around. The only time she was obediently still by choice during these times was when she was being treated by Y/N, Clone Force 99’s on-board medic.

Again, this was mostly out of habit from her time with Nala Se, but it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, Y/N fielded all of Omega’s questions with unending patience. And their hands were less clinical, more gentle than Omega was used to. Nala Se was efficient, not a movement wasted in her examinations. Y/N, however, always offered a comforting touch on the back after a scary encounter, and would gently but firmly place their hands on Omega’s face to look her in the eye to assess emotional well-being.

The first time Y/N had done this was on the Ordo Moon, as Y/N was finishing wrapping up Omega’s small scratches on her hands and knees from her misadventures in the underground tunnels.

At this point, not used to such close eye contact, Omega averted her eyes and looked over Y/N’s shoulder for something to distract her from the unusual awkwardness she felt.

Her eyes met Echo’s.

Her awkwardness vanished as he seemed to startle, a faint flush appearing on his neck, as he coughed, crossed his arms, and turned away, suddenly much more interested in examining the ship’s ceiling than anything else.

What an interesting reaction. Her brain filed it away, curiosity piqued.

Then, over the course of a few weeks, Omega confirmed her suspicions.

Echo was always watching Y/N. Echo liked Y/N.

Omega caught him absentmindedly gazing at Y/N’s hands as they tapped thoughtfully on a datapad while Wrecker carried new medical inventory aboard the Marauder during a supply run.

After Wrecker’s successful inhibitor chip removal on Bracca, and Tech volunteered to go next, Omega watched Y/N’s hands fly across the medical controls, fierce determination sharpening their features. Glancing up, she saw that Echo’s attention was similarly arrested, a look on his face that was bordering very close to adoration.

He seemed most captivated by Y/N’s hands, however, whenever they were treating him personally for any ailments or injuries. Echo always sat pin straight, almost comedically robotic (it would be funnier, but his history brought a sort of cruel irony to the thought) and allowing Y/N to turn his body and maneuver his prosthetic arm however was needed without any fidgeting or complaint.

But his eyes were another story. Darting back and forth everywhere their fingers touched, such a stoniness to his face that Omega was certain he was committing every graze, every feather-light touch, to memory. Y/N, as always, was so focused on the medical work that they never seemed to notice.

Omega saw things, though. Echo was like Y/N’s shadow, often slipping into the same room or area Y/N was in, like a ghost. She observed with fascination how he always angled himself to face her whenever there was a conversation in the cockpit. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of them, or if the entire squad was there and discussing a mission, it was as though he had attuned himself to wherever Y/N happened to be and was drawn to them.

Like a sunflower always facing the sun.

She saw in the field how Echo, not Hunter, was usually the one to call the Marauder to check in or alert Y/N to any injuries that would need to be treated when they returned. How the space between his brows would crease whenever they would radio in but only receive the static of communications interference.

Or worse, no answer at all.

Echo wouldn’t say anything, but Omega felt that her brother’s steps would quicken, just a little. And she wasn’t sure she was just imagining a sudden sense of urgency in the air as they completed the mission, with just a bit more efficiency, a bit more ruthlessness than was usual.

Omega saw how Echo always let out a tiny breath in relief, as though he had been holding it the whole time, whenever they returned to the Marauder with its medic unharmed.

And she would never forget that one time they had returned to the Marauder, doors blasted open, interior trashed, with no medic in sight and droplets of blood leading away from the ship.

Omega had never been in war, had only heard about it passively from the conversations between Nala Se and Lama Su, then a bit more directly from her brothers once she was allowed out of the private lab.

She had once asked Tech about the war, but his response clearly paled in comparison to the dark look on Echo’s face, as they battled their way through enemy after enemy to rescue Y/N.

Omega felt as though she understood war a little bit more after this. At least its motivations.

It took longer for Omega to figure out whether her brother’s feelings were reciprocated. Y/N’s affection wasn’t as obvious, but the trick was to watch more for their actions than in body language.

Since Y/N and Tech slept the least, they would swap bunks and so were usually on opposite sleep schedules. This meant that Y/N would stay up late into the night well after the rest of the boys had retired to their bunks, face alight in the glow of a datapad. They would concentrate fiercely, chewing on their thumbnail and pausing often to tap notes into the margins.

Omega eventually managed to snatch and break into Y/N’s data pad, and saw that they were working their way through a series of medical journals, detailing the latest treatment for prosthetics. There were also several articles on treating post-traumatic stress disorder for former prisoners of war.

Omega had even checked Y/N’s search history, and discovered that they had been using an encrypted channel to search for chatter on the whereabouts of the former 501st legion and its various members. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Y/N had much luck so far, but if the number of searches were any indication, they weren’t giving up.

Omega wondered incredulously how none of her other brothers had yet caught on to the two’s clearly mutual affection for each other. Until she realized that no, they already knew.

Once, when Omega had offered Echo some of her Mantell Mix, Echo had sniffed it, much to her amusement. Her giggles subsided immediately when Echo murmured apologetically that he sometimes had trouble digesting pretty much any food that wasn’t nutritional paste, due to half his digestive system being completely artificial.

Of course, this meant that he must have been experiencing constant abdominal discomfort, as they hadn’t had any nutritional paste on the ship since their escape from Kamino. Hunter once mentioned to her that even the plainest of rations seemed to bother him, but he gamely never complained.

One day, Hunter was giving out rations in the cockpit, and had already given Tech and Wrecker their usual. Then he pulled out a green, unlabeled squeeze packet instead of the usual rations bar, and handed it to Echo, who took it with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

“New brand. It should be easier on your digestive systems than the usual stuff. Tastier, too.”

Echo glanced at the packet skeptically, unscrewing the cap and sniffing at its contents.

“It smells...fresh?”

“Try it,” Hunter urged him, to which Echo obediently tried a small amount.

His mouth rounded in a surprised ‘oh’. Omega wished she could have captured the look on his face with a holovid. He stared at the packet in his hands, with a look that was a bit like wonder and amazement.

This didn’t escape Wrecker’s notice, who immediately stood up in protest. “What? Why does Echo get something new to eat?” He glanced forlornly at the slightly crumpled, stale rations bar in his hand. “I want some!”

“They’re too expensive for your appetite, Wrecker,” Hunter replied, just a bit too quickly, though none of the others seemed to notice. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t like it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Wrecker proclaimed, swiping the packet from Echo’s hands despite Hunter’s attempt to chastise him. Wrecker took a giant slurp.

...and immediately spat it out, some of it splattering on poor Gronk.

“Blech! That tastes weird.”

“Probably because it’s made of fruits and vegetables,” Tech said dryly, “Your palette likely isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the subtle bitterness and natural sweetness that are characteristic of those food categories.”

Echo eyed Hunter skeptically. “And we have the money to keep buying these?”

Hunter hummed, closing the rations box and turning away from the cockpit. “Omega’s paying for it from her holochess winnings.” She startled at the sudden mention of her name. “We have extra to spare, for now.” Hunter subtly winked at her when the others weren’t looking.

“Oh. Thank you, Omega,” said Echo, looking at her with true gratitude. Omega flushed a bit, but mostly because it actually didn’t have anything to do with her. She played along, however, and insisted it was no problem. It did seem to make him happy, so there was no harm in a small lie like that, right?

She cornered Hunter later, though, and insisted on him telling her the truth. After wearing him down a bit, he finally relented.

“Okay, but you can’t tell the others, all right? Believe me, I’ve already tried to talk them out of it. But Y/N has been doing some medical work on the side, working at one of the clinics near Cid’s bar. They’ve been using the money to buy these.”

Omega’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why can’t you just tell Echo that?”

Hunter sighed. “Because they don’t want Echo to know. Figures that Echo wouldn’t like them going out on their own to work in the slums for his sake. They’re probably right, of course.” He rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign of an impending headache.

Omega frowned, then decided to go for it.

“You know they like each other, right?”

Hunter blinked at her, looking surprised. At her determined stare, he gave a sigh and muttered something like, ‘I’m getting too old for this’. He proceeded to explain patiently to her that perhaps Echo and Y/N liked each other, but pointed out how awkward or difficult it could be to have a romantic relationship in such close quarters, especially when they as a team also had bigger things to worry about.

It sounded like Hunter had given this exact speech at least twice before.

So Tech and Wrecker knew, then, but were being polite about it (or, in Wrecker’s case, had probably gotten an earful from Hunter earlier about tact and ‘minding one’s own business’).

Well. That wouldn’t do.

By the time Echo got up the nerve to say anything, he’d probably be old! (Omega wouldn’t, but she tried not to think too hard about that particular fact.)

So, she began to scheme. Quietly.

She had the tactical advantage, after all.

#fic request #arc trooper echo #echo x you #echo x reader #echo #tbb echo #star wars tbb #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #tbb omega #echo x g/n reader #unbeta'd

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booksforevermore13 · 3 years

Text

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dogfish

Summary: Lily brings home a dogfish. When Ginny doesn't approve, Harry wonders if there is something else bothering her. If he recalled correctly, it hadn't been very long since his wife had brought home a really old seahorse. Then what really was the matter?

Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer!

...

“To be fair, he followed me home.”

“He is a fish ⁠— “

“⁠— dogfish.”

“And he doesn’t have legs! So, tell me Lils, how in Triton’s hell did he magically walk out of water and follow you home?”

Lily huffed, crossing her arms and avoiding her mum’s look. Then, as a peace offering, she peeked out from under her hair and smiled sheepishly, to which her mum only raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you can’t deny he’s not cute,” she whined, and then bent down to pick him up, while the pup (fish?) nuzzled his nose into her shirt.

“If you ask me, he’s kinda creepy,” James piped in.

“He is not! And no one asked you!”

She watched as her mum narrowed her eyes in her typical mum way, and then sighed, and Lily knew half the battle was won.

“So?” she urged, and her mother glared at her, and then turned her glare towards James as he snickered. Albus raised his arms in defence as their mum turned to him, and hastily looked down at the ground.

“We,” Ginny sighed, shaking her head in defeat, “⁠— oh, I’m going to regret this ⁠— we will talk about this when your dad comes home.”

“Does that mean we can keep him?”

“We will talk about this when your dad,” her mum repeated, looking each of them in the eye, “comes home.”

They nodded, giving each other sombre looks, while the puppy-fish, (fuppy, pish?) yapped excitedly.

“For Triton’s sake, first her brother brings home a dolphin.ow her, a bloody dogfish,” Ginny muttered, and then shooed them out of the kitchen, very well knowing she’d be fighting a losing battle.

Oh, she was definitely going to regret this.

…

“Oh, good you’re home,” Ginny said, folding and unfolding the Pall Mall Gazette. Harry looked at her in confusion, then at the paper, then back at her again, noting the skittish manner with which she was avoiding his gaze.

“I am?”

Ginny shot him a glare, hands on her hips, and Harry offered a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I just ⁠— you sound mad. You look mad.”

“Do I?”

Harry bit back a smile, and then asked, “Who was it this time? James or Lils?”

“She brought home a dogfish,” Ginny gritted out. “A dogfish. With an orange fin. And a snout. A horribly disgusting, slobbering snout!”

Harry shot her a mirthful glance, before gesturing to her to continue.

“We don’t have space for a dogfish!”

“Don’t we?”

Ginny gestured again, waving her hands around as if that could prove her point, and Harry, in a moment of uncertainty, wondered if the dogfish was really the problem. It couldn’t be, for it hadn’t been long before she had herself come home with a seahorse; though it had turned out to be a really old seahorse and had died within a year.

“Ginny,” he started, in a different manner than before. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, at least not directly, but he certainly didn’t expect her to whack him on the head with the roll of paper. He winced, looking at her and wondering if she really had gone mad, before she started speaking through gritted teeth.

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?”

“I am, Gin!” he said quickly. “But you need to talk to me. Really talk to me.”

“I am!”

“I don’t think so!”

“Lily brought a dogfish home!”

“Is the dogfish really the problem, Gin?” Harry asked, and watched as her face morphed from anger to uncertainty, and then back to anger as her brows furrowed, and she glanced back at him again.

“No,” she said curtly, with that stubborn frown on her face, and though Harry was glad he’d managed to figure her out (for once), he couldn’t really place his claims on what exactly had made her upset. She’d seemed fine that morning. He’d kissed her goodbye, she’d stopped it from becoming a full blown makeout session (their children were home, plus he’d had to go to work), and she’d smiled at him, and looked at him with that blazing look of hers, and he’d told her he’d be home early. Everything had been just as it was supposed to be. Everything had been fine.

Except now it wasn’t.

And then to his surprise, Ginny let her head fall on his shoulder, burying her face in his shirt, and Harry let his arms wrap around her, keeping her steady. He tucked her head under his chin, and rested his head on hers, the two of them in the middle of their hallway, arms around each other, and for the moment, it was the most natural thing they’d ever done.

And then her shoulders started shaking.

And Harry’s frown grew increasingly deeper.

“Hey,” he urged. “Gin, hey, hey.” He cupped her face and tilted it upwards, horrified to find her just barely holding back tears. Ginny sniffled, and swiped one hand across her face, further smearing her tears. Harry wiped the rest off with his thumbs, cursing silently to whoever, whatever had made her cry.

“Just… let me have this for a second, please, Harry?” Her voice cracked, and Harry brought her in against his chest, holding her tight, his heart racing a million miles per hour as he mulled over all the things that could have happened.

Then, on second thought, he bent down and picked her up, and it was the thought that she hadn’t even yelped at that, that made him feel an odd sense of triumph.

Harry settled on the couch, gently stroking her hair as she lay on his lap, her tears dampening his shirt, but he couldn’t have cared less.

And yet, he didn’t ask.

He didn’t push.

But he was glad that she trusted him so much to be vulnerable around him, and him around her. It had taken them fifteen years married to each other, and even longer than that, to really know the other like they did now. To know that if they were vulnerable around the other, it didn’t automatically make them weak in their eyes.

And yet, it didn’t change the fact that there he was with a crying Ginny, and him sorely wishing he could beat up the person who’d made her cry.

There were certainly few things he hated more than seeing his wife upset.

“I promise I’m still as sane as you,” Ginny mumbled from beneath him, and he looked down at her, brushing away her hair from her face.

“I never doubted that for a second,” Harry replied.

Ginny let out a laugh, albeit humourless, but it didn’t stop her from getting up and offering him a sad sort of smile. He looked at her, his chest clenching at how her eyes still occasionally watered. Harry opened his mouth, but before he did, Ginny got up from his lap, and sat beside him on the couch, facing away from him.

“Gin, talk to me?” he begged, “and don’t tell me it’s the damn dogfish again because I know, you know, it’s not.”

He caught a tear as it broke away from the dam, and rubbed his thumb against her cheek, his eyes begging for her to talk.

“I…” she sighed. “I want to play again.”

Ginny looked at him, and he was silent, so she continued.

“I want to play Quidditch again. I want to get into that arena, and feel the water rippling around me, and hear the Bludgers whizz by me, and hear the crowd yelling and screaming ⁠—” her voice broke, and a new wave of tears began to slip down her cheeks before she could stop them. “I’m sorry, this is ridiculous⁠ —“

“It’s not.”

“I-I need to get out there again. And it’s selfish of me, and it’s illogical that I suggest leaving Lily and Albus and James alone here; I mean, Lily’s just seven, but I can’t shake this-this feeling that I could ⁠— I should be doing more!”

“Hey,” Harry said, cupping her face and looking into her eyes. He didn’t exactly understand what was truly the matter; all he was really concentrating on was her tears, and how each time they fell, his heart beat painfully within his chest. “This is not selfish, or illogical, or anything you just said right now.” Ginny glanced away, but Harry simply shifted to face her. “Gin, look at me. Look at me,” and when she finally did, his heart clenched yet again to see her eyes tearing up again.

“Demelza called me and told me how they’d made her captain,” she choked out finally, “and I couldn’t help but wonder that if I’d stuck around, then they’d⁠ —“

“⁠— have made you instead,” Harry finished, and brushed away her tears as more fell.

“And that thought made me feel so selfish, and-and guilty when James and Albus and Lils are my world, and- and you. All I wanted back then was to have more time with you, and I have that now. I finally have that now. This-this is all I’ve ever wished for. But, I-I can’t help but relentlessly think and think about that what-if, and everything else that could have been different with that what-if, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Harry was silent, his mind screaming at him to hold her close to him, make her tears go away, but this time, he didn’t think Ginny needed that. This time, he knew Ginny needed answers. And even if he couldn’t give them to her himself, he could help her find them. So if a chord had struck, he asked out of the blue. “Where are those three?”

“What?” Ginny frowned. “Oh, um… they’re at the Burrow. Apparently, they wanted to show their newly acquired…pet to their grandparents, but we both know it’s just going to be them trying to coerce Mum into making them a sweater for that fish.”

“Can you ask your mum if she can keep them at their place for a few hours?”

Ginny looked at him, confused, but she still nodded, taking out her phone from her back pocket. “Any particular reason?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, as he got up from the sofa, and offered her his hand. “We’re going swimming.”

…

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still a better mermaid than you,” Ginny quipped as she looked down at the water pool in front of them.

“I’m a merman. I don’t think I fit your criteria at all.”

“Yes, well, potato, potahto, mer...maid.”

Harry laughed, ducking his head, and Ginny cupped his cheek and turned his face, kissing him gently.

“Thanks for being my loyal listener,” she said, between kisses, and Harry smiled against her lips, wrapping a hand around her waist.

“Always.”

Her laugh echoed in the cave, as she stepped back and winked, before jumping into the pool, and if he could, he would have bottled that sound and gotten drunk on it.

“That’s the laugh,” he said softly, and followed.

…

The Ministry had caves just like the one near their house, almost at every other street in London. They were like Daedulus’ symbols, there where only those who knew where it was could see it.

Harry looked at Ginny again, fully knowing that even after all the times he’d seen her underwater, she still managed to take his breath away. Every time.

She was beautiful.

Her shimmering crimson tail glowed against the water, her hair floating around her in an angry halo, except it wasn’t angry. Not really. Here, Ginny seemed almost at peace.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, and Harry smiled at her, holding out his hand for her to take.

They were at the arena. The arena. They were at Hogwarts.

Lanterns guided their way, lighting their path, as they navigated the dark waters, the soft yellow light on the ocean floor, not much help, but it was, to its credit, useful. More in the sense of reassurance, than anything else.

In what was the oddest twist of the universe, mermen didn’t have tails. They could breathe and swim like their female counterparts, sure, but due to some unexplainable reason, they didn’t have tails.

That gave them a setback, sure, for mermaids were faster, swifter, and he had spent a major part of his Hogwarts years building up his speed and stamina in order to keep up with them.

It didn’t help his case that while underwater, mermaids were by far, the most beautiful creatures on the planet, their tails shining against the silver waters. On the other hand, they were just…them.

“You wanna tell me what’s happening here, Harry?”

Harry smiled at her, then let go of her hand, letting the lanterns guide their way. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, the world around them grew clearer, stiller and what had been darkness had instead turned to light.

“The first time I saw you here,” he said, swimming behind her, and keeping her hands on her shoulders, his voice in her ears, “the first thing I thought was: how the bloody hell was she not on the team yet?”

Ginny laughed, her voice dampened against the waves, but Harry could hear it as clear as day.

“The second thing I thought was that Ginny Weasley here, she was going to be a hell of a player. Someone I could never, ever, compare to.”

Harry turned her face to face him, and grinned. “That’s when I knew I loved you.”

Ginny shook her head, a knowing smile on her face, and Harry had a strange sense of accomplishment when he realized that he had been the one to put it there.

“Harry Potter, you’re one heck of a charmer, you know that?”

He shrugged, looking at her coyly. “I may have been told, once or twice.” He paused. But he didn’t stop. “You’re a lot of things to a lot of people, Gin, but back then, I always thought you were the Ginny Weasley, the fiercest chaser in business. So, whatever you decide to do, we’ll figure it out, just like we always do.”

Ginny gulped, and clutched his hand tightly, looking around the arena as if it was her first time seeing it.

In the end, this had always been her place.

This was where he knew she had to keep coming back.

And if she did, Harry knew he’d do everything in his power to make that happen. He’d quit being an Auror if he had to, stay with the kids, and he’d do it gladly if it meant more time with them. If it meant Ginny getting to follow her dream.

Fifteen years with Gin had made him realise dreams he’d never thought he’d have.

“I want to get back here,” Ginny admitted. “But, I don’t want to be away from them. You know how it was,” she turned to Harry, “back then, when I came home late from practice, all those hours away from James, from you. I don’t want that. That’s why I left, and I’ll do it a thousand times over if I had to.”

“But this, this is all I’ve wanted to do, since I was six and saw Bill fly for the first time. Now…I’m not so sure. But at the same time⁠—”

“⁠— you do,” Harry finished for her, and then grinned, facing her side. “It’s been fifteen years, but I am still trying to figure you out,” he said, as his hands cupped her cheeks, holding her steady, so that he could drink in the sight of her.

“I don’t think you ever will.”

But he’ll never stop trying.

Now she looked at him, several seconds later, brown to green, her to him, eyes glinting with the ghost of a smile. “I know what to do, Harry,” she said softly, and laughed. “And to think it was all for a damn dogfish.”

“I don’t suppose we still have room for it, do we?”

“We’ll have to see.”

Harry nodded, listening for a moment longer to the slight deafness of water around him, and her brown eyes, as radiant as the first time he’d seen them.

Then he kissed her. At her lips’ touch, Harry felt he was rediscovering them again.

“I love you,” Ginny mumbled, her hands tangled in his hair, her lips drawing him in for another kiss.

Harry smiled, knowing he’d never loved her more.

“I love you,” he said.

...

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julek · 3 years

Text

day 17 ❄ freshly baked bread

winter prompt challenge

The leaves have turned brown by the time they start trailing north. Geralt had had a significant number of contracts south of the Alba, after meeting Jaskier in Lyria, and they’d been slowly making their way into Kaedwen so they can arrive at the keep before the first snow. Jaskier’s joined him for many winters at Kaer Morhen now, and he knows better than to wait too long, careful to expose the bard to frozen temperatures when he doesn’t need to.

They’re making camp under a white fir after a long day of walking, but Jaskier doesn’t seem too tired.

“Where are we, exactly?” he asks Geralt, absentmindedly strumming his lute.

Geralt stokes the fire. “Not too far from Hagge.”

Jaskier frowns and licks his lips, and Geralt knows he’s looking at his mental map of the Continent, which, in Geralt’s humble opinion, isn’t all that accurate.

“Hagge... You know I always confuse that one with Brugge? Must be the spelling. Anyway! If we’re near Hagge, we’re near Lettenhove!”

Geralt sits down on a log next to the bard, whose eyes are glinting with excitement. His voice always takes on a soft note when he talks about his family, his expression warm and fond — Geralt knows he misses them, and sadly doesn’t seem to get time to spend around them. Whenever they’re in a city that’s big enough to have a good correspondence system, Jaskier writes to his sisters and his parents, telling them all about their lives as they trudge around the Continent.

Jaskier heaves a small sigh. “Would it be too late for a quick detour? I know you want to get to Kaer Morhen as soon as possible, but I haven’t seen my family for a while and I’d love to hug my mother goodbye for the winter— you don’t have to, though, they can be a lot.” He huffs a laugh. “And maybe— it’s okay if we can’t, actually.”

Geralt shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. He thinks of all the times they strayed from their path just because Geralt had caught word that another Witcher was passing through, the times Jaskier’s missed a banquet just so he could have another round of ale with Geralt’s brothers. “It’s fine, Jask. We can ride out tomorrow.”

“Really?” Jaskier beams, his smile entirely too big for his face and too bright for Geralt to handle, and leans forward to wrap his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. “Oh, that’s so kind of you! I hope you’re prepared, though, they’ll have a million questions about you and they’ll want stories, Geralt—”

“Like you did?”

“Yeah.” Jaskier pauses, a small smile on his lips. “Like I did.”

Getting to Lettenhove isn’t hard by itself — the road’s well-traveled and the closer they get to the village, the more Jaskier remembers. They’ve walked through the marketplace and the smell of freshly baked pies lingers, Geralt’s mouth watering at the thought. There’s a narrow path just on the side of the road, and that’s the one leading to Jaskier’s family’s house. It makes a beautiful picture, the golden treetops curling into one another in each side of the path forming an archway, the stone house in the distance. Jaskier’s scent is tinted with excitement and happiness, and it feels warmer than usual, a bit more muted — home, Geralt thinks.

Jaskier’s family is almost as warm and bright as he is; Geralt’s barely set foot in their house and he’s already pulled into a strong hug, Jaskier’s father clapping on his back with a smile.

“You’re the Witcher!” Jaskier’s mother exclaims, and there’s nothing but pure joy in her scent. “It’s so exciting to meet you, after hearing all of Julian’s songs!”

Geralt can’t help but smile, already overwhelmed by their hospitality. After Jaskier’s sisters have hugged him welcome and introduced themselves —Kitty, Lizzie, and Jane— Geralt’s lead to a room on the second floor, which he belatedly realizes, belongs to Jaskier.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Jaskier’s mother starts as he sets his pack down by the door. “Had we known we’d have guests, we would have gotten the guest room ready— you’ll have to share with Julian, if that’s alright? Or I could ask the girls to find some clean linens and—”

“Thank you,” Geralt says, kindly interrupting her rambling, which sounds familiar. He bites back a smile. “This is perfect.”

She blushes bright red and goes downstairs, and her voice carries as she orders her family around to start preparing dinner. Geralt moves around the room, taking every detail in. Jaskier’s room looks like he’d imagine, and, at the same time, nothing like it — he immediately feels drawn to it, the dark wooden floors and soft blankets on the bed, the bookcase filled with all kinds of books and the seemingly endless stack of papers by his desk. It’s so him, so Jaskier, Geralt can’t think of another word to describe it.

“It’s weird, seeing you here.” Jaskier’s leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his lips.

“Good weird?”

“Definitely good weird,” Jaskier says, and presses a chaste kiss to Geralt’s lips, then wraps his arms around him and lays his head against his shoulder. “I’m glad we’re here. Thank you.”

Geralt gently squeezes his waist, pressing his nose against the crook of Jaskier’s neck, breathing in. He hums against his neck.

“Are you hungry?” Jaskier says when they part. “I’m sure Mother would love to stuff you full of pie and wine.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt wakes in an unfamiliar room. He frowns and goes to reach for his sword when he sees a familiar tangle of brown hair peeking out of the blankets, the warmth of Jaskier’s body against his own grounding him. He drinks Jaskier in; the way his legs are tangled in his, the bard’s head resting on the crook of his arm, his slow breathing. Sunlight filters through the thin curtains and falls around them almost gently, painting everything golden in the early morning.

Geralt traces small circles on Jaskier’s arm, basking in his warmth. They don’t get many moments like this on the road, and Geralt relishes every second of them — no contracts ahead, no obligations, nothing other than laying close to each other. He closes his eyes and gently nuzzles his nose against Jaskier’s hair, hearing the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re thinking sappy thoughts, Witcher,” Jaskier murmurs against his chest, his voice thick with sleep. “I can tell.”

Geralt smiles, then presses a kiss to his temple. “Good morning.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier pulls the blankets over his head, making small sounds of protest, something along the lines of how it’s too early to be awake and too cold to get out of bed, then brings Geralt under with him, draping the covers around them.

“Hi,” he says in the dark under their pile. It’s too warm for Geralt, but for Jaskier, he’ll stay.

“Hi,” Geralt answers, and presses a kiss to Jaskier’s lips this time. It’s slow and sweet and lazy, their lips finding each other again and again, and it’s perfect. “We should get up,” he says when they pull back for air.

Jaskier pouts. “You’re an ingrate, Geralt of Rivia. I bring you to my home, feed you and bathe you—”

“You haven’t bathed me.”

“—share my bed and blankets with you, only for you to demand we get up at the crack of dawn, when we don’t even have anything pressing to attend to. Rude, that’s what you are.”

“I’m sorry,” Geralt says, kissing the frown between Jaskier’s brows. “Will you find it in your good heart to forgive such an indiscretion?”

Jaskier purses his lips, considering. “Hmm, I think I’ll have to. After all, I can’t risk being uninvited to Kaer Morhen. I’ll miss Eskel too much.”

“It’s him you’re after, then?”

“Of course,” Jaskier says with a grin. “This was all a ploy to get to your brother, my one and only.”

“I think you are getting uninvited to Kaer Morhen, after all.”

Jaskier gasps in mock outrage. “Geralt! You wouldn’t.”

“Hmm.” Geralt tosses the blankets aside and sits up on the bed. “It’s decided.”

Jaskier, with his hair all mussed and sleep still tugging at his eyes, kneels on the bed, and he’s never quite looked so beautiful. “I could convince you to change your mind?”

Geralt turns to look at him. “How?”

Jaskier lifts his eyebrows and licks his lips. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”

After a mind-blowing blowjob and another few hours of sleep, Geralt and Jaskier make their way downstairs. The house is silent, and there’s a note on the kitchen table: Went to town to run some errands before the cold settles in. Help yourselves to breakfast! We’ll be back at noon.

“Well, seems we’ve the house to ourselves,” Jaskier says and grabs a mug. “Tea?” Geralt takes a seat at the table and nods. “Okay, I don’t quite remember where everything is— What would you like to eat? I’m sure there’s fruit, and some nuts, and we could— Oh! I could make some bread for you!”

Geralt lifts an eyebrow. “You can bake?”

“Of course I can!” Jaskier starts pulling ingredients out of different drawers and sets them on the table. “I’m quite a proficient baker, mind you.”

Geralt hums and sips at his tea when the water’s done boiling. Jaskier chatters away, bright and awake, and he’s wearing one of Geralt’s shirts. His hair is still a tangled mess, but his cheeks are flushed and he’s in such a good mood his scent is intoxicating. Geralt’s seen him in many ways — performing at banquets and taverns, forehead damp with sweat and a smirk on his lips; composing by a riverbank, his brows furrowed in concentration and a pen hanging from his lips; moving around Novigrad like he owns the place, in one of his brightest doublets and a smile plastered on his face after he downs a bottle of Everluce. He’s beautiful in each and one of Geralt’s memory, but right now, with a line of flour across his cheek, wearing Geralt’s shirt and kneading bread for him, sharing his bed and his home and his life with him, this is the most beautiful Geralt’s ever seen him.

“I love you,” he blurts out.

Jaskier stops mid-rant and brings a hand to his cheek, his eyes wide. “I— you do?”

Geralt breathes out, his chest feeling lighter than it has in years. “I do.” He steps forward, moving closer to him, and presses his hand on top of Jaskier’s. “I do.”

Jaskier smiles, and it feels like sunshine is pouring down on Geralt. He bumps their foreheads together. “I love you too.”

Geralt lets out a quiet laugh and presses a kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth, their breaths intertwined. He thinks of Kaer Morhen, the way the bard takes to it like he’s lived there forever, like there’s no other place he’d rather be. The way he sits by the fire with a book and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the way he teases Eskel and Lambert like they grew up together, the way he follows Vesemir around the keep with a million questions waiting to be answered. The way he belongs.

And Geralt belongs too, he realizes. Here, in the middle of Jaskier’s family’s kitchen, with his arms wrapped around his bard as sunlight washes over them, and the scent of fresh bread and love fills his senses. He’s home, too.

#mywriting #winter prompts #geraskier ficlet #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #this is so sappy i apologize in advance #they're in love. they're home. i don't need anything else

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Changed my update schedule to two times a week (probably Sunday and Wednesdays) because three days was kind of overwhelming hahah. Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and feedback!! I appreciate every single one!!!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Being shot at?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The Pogues come over later to hang out like usual. No one mentions last night's party. I don't know whether its because they don't want to talk about it or we're pretending like it never happened. I'm fine with either.

I sit next to Kie who taps her fingers on a bongo and bobs her head to her own beat. Pope's shuffling a deck of cards to my right and JJ sips on another beer across from me. It's hard to concentrate on what they're talking about. I'm too busy locked in my own head, thinking about what Peterkin said - foster care - what life would be like if we were taken away. Would I ever see my friends again? Would John B and I be in the same foster home? The thought of being separated makes me sick.

"Look, I'm calling it off. All right?" John B pulls me out of my thoughts. JJ rolls his eyes at my brother and glances at me. "Peterkin said if we stay out of the marsh, she'll help us with DCS."

"And you believed her?" JJ asks. "An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop."

John B sighs. "All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun."

Here we go.

"You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass."

"Topper was gonna drown me?"

"Sure looked like it."

"Funny," John B deadpans.

"Have you looked in a mirror?"

"Tell me some more. Come on." I can tell by the look on John B's face that he's getting annoyed. It's pinched and he keeps rolling his eyes.

JJ steps closer to him. "They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win!" He turns around and punches one of the small volleyballs we have tied in a string like a decoration.

"Look, it's okay!" Kie tries to calm him down.

"No, it's not okay! It's not! They don't want us to go down into the marsh." JJ comes back. "That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it." He turns to me and points. "I know you do." Then he looks at Pope. "I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go. You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk. And you -" He turns to Kie. "I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother? But you and me, and Marleigh, man, we got nothing to lose! We really don't all right?"

"JJ -" I sigh.

"And I know it didn't use to be that way for you -"

John B shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's it?"

John B shoves past JJ. "Just get out of my way, bro."

"John B, listen to me. I have a plan." Well thats never good. "You got the key to Cameron's big boat right?"

"No," John B says, already knowing where JJ's head is at.

"There's scuba gear. We borrow that, and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon, and that is what's gonna save you, man. You don't see rich kids going into foster care, do you?"

Here's the thing about JJ. He can be really convincing, which is usually the reason he and I get into the most trouble. Because I always fall for what he's saying. He gives me hope when I don't think there is any. He can be surprisingly optimistic sometimes. And when he is, I fall for his charm and agree with everything he says. If he told me to jump off a bridge, I probably would.

When he looks at me, my lips tug upwards into a smile. This creates a domino effect, and soon the other Pogues get excited. John B looks at me, trying to look disapproving but I shrug in response. I mean, JJ's right. What do we have to lose?

~ ~ ~

I light a match and ignite my gas stove to make myself lunch. A can of chicken noodle soup that's been in my food closet for who knows how long. John B left to grab the tanks from the Cameron's boat, so the rest of us are waiting here until he comes to pick us up.

"You're eating soup? Its like a hundred degrees outside." JJ walks into the kitchen and lifts himself up on the counter next to the stove.

I stir the liquid around with a wooden spoon and smirk. "Do you see any other edible food around here?" JJ chuckles at that. He knows better than anyone how horrible John B and I are at food shopping. "I meant to go to the store today but..." I sigh. "I've been busy."

JJ pauses, causing me to look up at him. He's usually so quick with his wit and humor. Something I admire and love about him. How he always manages to put a smile on my face with some dumb remark or a sarcastic reply. Only now he's staring at me with curiosity. "Are you okay?"

"You mean other than the impending doom that is foster care that's going to hit me and John B in the near future?" I say sarcastically. I turn the stove off and grab two bowls out of the cabinet behind JJ's head. He ducks for me and my waist presses against his thigh. I pour half the soup in each bowl and hand him one with a spoon.

"Yeah, I mean other than that," JJ says. I blow on the liquid on my spoon to cool it down. The steam that comes up from my bowl already makes me feel hot.

"I'm fine," I tell him.

He gives me a look that says he's doesn't believe me, but I ignore it and he doesn't press me on it. Truth is, I am fine. I just have a lot of my mind but I'm going to do my best not to let it ruin my summer. JJ got me excited again. He's promising an adventure and possibly a fortune. He's right. John B and I have nothing to lose. If we don't go on the marsh today, DCS will find another reason to snatch us. So why hold ourselves back?

"Mar, JJ, he's back!" Kie calls out to us from my yard.

JJ sips the last of his broth out of the bowl and I shovel in the last couple of scoops into my mouth. We throw the bowls in the sink and run to the dock where John B and the others are waiting for us.

Pope directs John B to the part of the marsh where we found the wreck. I sit next to Kie in the front of the boat. She's looking at the two tanks that John B was able to snag off the Cameron's boat. Her brows are furrowed in confusion as she studies the gear.

"This is empty," Kie says, looking up at my brother who stops the boat when we find the sunken Grady-White. "You took empty tanks?"

"I..." John B says slowly. He definitely didn't look at it before he took it.

"Okay, this one's a quarter full," Kie says, pulling the tank to her left closer to her. "Its enough for one of us."

"Love it when a plan comes together," I say sarcastically and pass a look to JJ who rolls his eyes.

"Does anybody know how to dive?" Kie asks.

I purse my lips and look around at my friends and brother. None of them speak up.

"Uh..."

"Anybody?" Kie asks.

"It's kind of a Kook sport," I say.

Pope raises his hand. "I...read about it."

"Great, Pope read about it so someone's gonna die," Kie says.

JJ walks towards us and picks up the mouth piece and shrugs his shoulders. "Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?"

Pope answers, "If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends."

JJ glances between Pope and the rest of us. "Bends like..." JJ bends forward, purposely sticking his butt out, "bend over and..."

Pope cuts him off. "The bends kill you."

JJ snaps straight up. "Right."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "I'll do it."

"Uh, I don't think..." JJ starts to say but my brother cuts him off.

"No. I'll do it."

"What, why?" I turn to my brother and send him a glare.

"Because Pope just said it can kill you and you don't listen to instructions very well." My brother glares back at me. I roll my eyes. He does have a point and evidence to prove it. I usually follow my own gut and ignore others' directions. And because I don't want him to bring up past events, I decide not to fight him on it.

"He has a point," JJ says, earning a punch in the bicep from me. He looks at my brother. "You can dive. I'm cool with that."

"Since when can you dive?" Kie says not liking the idea any more than me.

He shrugs. "I'll do it. It's fine."

"Let me do some calculations real quick," Pope says as John B starts putting on the scuba gear.

"You serious?" JJ asks.

"That boat's about thirty feet down. Okay? So it'll take twenty five minutes at that depth. Twenty five. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about...ten feet."

Contrary to popular belief, I do the actual listening to instructions, I just don't always follow through. But I process everything Pope just said and think of a way to make this easier for John B.

I shimmy out of my jean shorts and pull my top over my head, leaving me in a purple and white striped bikini. Without saying anything, I jump into the water with my shirt.

"Uh..." Pope says, looking into the water where I just disappeared. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. But I liked it. A lot," JJ says, staring at the same spot. John B slaps the back JJ's head and glares daggers in his direction. JJ pretends to clear his throat and turns away from John B. "Uh, so..."

Pope pretends to focus on his calculations again, not wanting to get caught by John B for staring at his sister too. "Yeah. Uh, when you uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?"

I guesstimate how deep ten feet is and tie my shirt around the chain attached to our anchor. I look one last time at the blurry image of the sunken boat and pull myself back up.

"Hey," I say to grab their attention. They all look at me. "I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down. It's where you need to do your safety stop."

John B nods. "Cool."

I stay in the water, loving how the water feels around me like a protective blanket. I listen to Pope explain the important parts of diving. There's some kind of meter he has to pay attention to to keep track of time.

"Okay, how much do I need?" John B asks.

"Unclear," Pope answers. "Breathe as little as possible."

JJ slaps John B on the shoulder. "Zen. Think zen, you know?"

John B turns to the water, preparing to jump in next to me. "Yeah. Got it."

"Hey," Pope says, stopping him. "If we get caught in the marsh, we're basically screwed, so better get a move on."

"No pressure or anything," I add.

"Copy that," John B says.

Kie approaches my brother and stands in front of him. She's really close to him, almost inches away from his face. Then she leans in and kisses his cheek slowly. Way more intimate than usual. My eyes widen in surprise and I look at Pope and JJ to see their reaction. They mirror mine.

"Diver down?" Kie says softly.

"Diver down." John B says just as softly.

"See ya, dude," JJ says.

John B jumps in the water and sinks down below me. I lay on my back in the water and bathe in the warmth of the sun above me. I even close my eyes, letting relaxation overcome me. I could probably sleep here if I wanted too.

"Shit, JJ," Pope curses, catching my attention.

"Guys, that's the police," Kie says.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," JJ says, glancing at me.

My eyes go wide with anxiety. I swim closer to the boat and look up at JJ. "JJ, they can't know I'm here. If they find me-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's gonna be okay. They're not going to, just stay there."

I nod and press myself tighter against the boat.

"Just act freaking normal," Kie says through clenched teeth.

I can hear the sirens coming closer until I feel their boat bump against ours. I flinch against it and kick my feet faster to stay afloat. I look down at the water, but I can't see John B. My heart races at the thought of him running out of air.

"Evening," I hear one of the cops greet my friends.

"JJ, tie it off," Pope says.

"How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?" The officer asks them.

"No."

"No. Wow."

My friends play dumb. I look up, finding comfort in seeing JJ's long hair. I can tell he's trying hard not to look down at me.

"Why - why is it closed?" Pope asks.

"Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down." The officer explains.

"Oh."

"See anything?"

"No." JJ purses his lips and shrugs.

"No boats," Kie says. "No."

There's a pause and for a split second I think he's gonna call their bluff. But he doesn't. "Where are the other two kids you always hang with? The twins? They here?"

I bite my bottom lip hard in anticipation for what's to come. He knows we're here. He has to. I can tell by how suspicious he sounds. I look back down in the water, John B still invisible to me. I don't know how much time he has left, but he's definitely running out of it.

"They both had to work," I hear Kie answer.

"Hm," The officer hums. "I'm gonna check your little boat out."

Shit, shit, shit, shit. I look around for a place to hide, but the only thing surrounding me is water. I'm going to have to go under.

"Yeah." JJ coughs, risking one last look at me before pretending to help the officer into the boat. "Yeah, hop aboard."

I push myself under the water and swim directly underneath the boat. I open my eyes, ignoring the sting of the salt water. I can see John B's silhouette by my T-shirt and the blurry light of his timer.

Thirty more seconds pass. I swing my arms upwards, pushing myself deeper into the water. The shadow of the cops' boat is still next to ours. My lungs are screaming at me for for air like they're tearing into my chest. Just like John B, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to last down here.

My body reactively gulps for air, forcing myself to swallow the salt water. It feels like a stab in my chest, my throat on fire. I've got to pop back up to the surface or I'm going to drown.

Just as I'm about to reveal myself, the shadow of the boat drives off. I push myself up, coughing up the water I swallowed and gasping for air. Less than a second later, John B pops up next to me.

"Oh, god! Jesus Christ," Kie says with her eyes closed and her head looking up.

"Don't scare us like that!" Pope says.

JJ watches me instead of John B, concern laced into his features. As I feel my heart go back to its normal pace, I smile at him and laugh the anxiety off. "You good?" He asks me. I nod and let him help me back up to the boat. "How'd it go down there?" He asks my brother. "Did you find anything?"

"Did I find anything?" John B scoffs and holds up a dark velvet bag.

"Yeah, there we go!" JJ claps his shoulders. "That's my boy!"

"Jeez, dude," Pope sighs.

"You okay?" Kie asks John B.

John B pants as he swims closer to the boat. "Yeah, I ran out of air."

"You and me both," I tell him.

John B pulls himself up. When he stands, he's met face to face with Kie who shoves him back playfully. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh...we took care of 'em." Pope says, trying to act like he wasn't going to piss his pants the entire time he was talking to them.

"My bad," John B laughs.

"You're all good."

"Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother," JJ says.

I move to the back of the boat to ring my wet hair out when something catches me eye. Its another boat, but it doesn't look like the one the cops were just using.

"Hey, guys? Guys!" I call louder to grab their attention. "Bogey, two o'clock."

"What?" JJ comes up next to me and eyes the boat that's making its way closer to us.

"Do you recognize the boat?" Pope asks.

"I've never seen it," I answer.

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I can make out two people, I think men, standing in the front. They keep their eyes straight on us. No laughing or talking like a couple of buds would on a boat day in the marsh.

"What are they doing here? The marsh is closed," Kie says.

"Let's not stick around and find out." JJ places his hands on my bare waist and pulls me to the side so he can pull up the anchor.

"JJ get the bowline," John B says, not realizing that JJ was already on it.

"Yeah."

"Should we wait on 'em?" Pope asks.

"No. No. We should leave now. Right now," Kie says, looking directly at John B.

"Go get the stern," John B tells me. "Go!"

I kneel next to JJ and help him. Similar to how I felt in the water, my heart beats violently against my chest and my breathing becomes static. I try not to think of the fear that creeps through my veins as I help release the boat from it's hold in the marsh.

"Guys, don't wait for us! Go!" JJ yells.

"Go!" Kie says.

"Pull out the stern!" Pope yells at us.

I yank the chain hard, revealing the slimy anchor covered in seaweed and moss.

"I don't like this," I mutter to JJ between clenched teeth.

John B pulls away from the wreck. JJ looks between me and the boat that still driving in our direction. "Are they coming for us?"

"Maybe they're fishing," Pope says.

"Go, go, go, go!"

"Go into the marsh," I tell my brother, constantly glancing between him and the other boat.

"Let's go," Kie says. I can hear fear creep into her voice and her hands shake around the drivers seat she's holding with a death grip.

"I'm going. Act natural!" John B hisses and revs the engine of the boat.

He takes a left turn into the marsh. I watch anxiously for the people in the other boat to make its move.

They turn left.

"Guys, they're following us!" Kie says.

"This can't be good," Pope says.

"Dude, you gotta go faster!" JJ says.

"I'm going!" John B yells back.

"Gun it!"

I look behind the boat. They're getting closer. Too close. Can't say I'm surprised. The HMS Pogue is no match for their boat that looks more expensive than my house. However, something catches my eye. Something long the guy in the passenger seat is holding and pointing right at us.

"Is that..." I mutter before I'm cut off by exactly what I was going to say.

The gun shot rings through my ears as if the person who shot it was standing next to me. Before I can react, JJ pulls me down to the floor of our boat by my waist and covers me with his own body. I gotta say, this isn't how I pictured him being on top of me. His left arm outlines my head, keeping me face down while other bullets pass our boat. The cries of my friends are dull through the blood pounding in my ears and my heart inching its way up my throat.

"Holy shit!" Kie shouts.

"John B, get down!" JJ yells.

I try looking up at my brother but JJ's hold is strong. John B's still behind the wheel, trying his best to duck from bullets without crashing the boat.

"We're gonna die!" Pope yells.

I try looking around the boat for anything we can use against these guys. Of course JJ decides to leave the gun he stole at my house for the day, leaving us practically useless against these two strangers.

My eyes find a net pooling in front of Kie's face as she keeps her head down. I try crawling out of JJ's embrace which only makes him tighten his arms around me.

"Kie!" I shout. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "The net!"

Immediately she understands what I'm trying to tell her. She pulls herself away from Pope and army crawls to the wide net. This only makes my friends yell at her, telling her to get down, but she doesn't listen.

"Get down, Kie!" John B shouts.

Another gun shot echoes through the air, making me flinch closer into JJ.

Kie throws the net overboard towards their boat and drops back down to her knees. The sound of the other boat's engine clanging against the net gets my head to perk up and I watch Kie's reaction. She's surprisingly smiling. When she looks at me, she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head in disbelief because that just worked. Their boats gets stuck.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Pope says.

One last gun shot rings through my ears before we make our getaway. I pull myself off the floor and look back at the boat one last time. We severely underestimated how important finding that boat was. Whatever John B found was worth killing us for.

A couple minutes later, John B pulls the boat up to the Chateau and docks it by the wooden slacks that I used as a bed last night. My friends cheer and actually smile after what just happened.

"That was insane!" Kie says.

"Whoo!"

I look at my brother with adrenaline rushing straight to me head. I feel giddy about finding out what JB found - what must be so important. "What do you think it is?"

"Gotta be money, right?" He asks, looking at me.

"That or a couple of keys with street value to the low-to-mid-mills," JJ says, leisurely danglingly his arm around my shoulders.

"Can we please just open the bag?" Pope says loudly, forcing everyone's attention at him who now looks at us sheepishly.

"Wow, Pope," John B laughs. "That's a rare outburst of emotion."

"Okay, you guys are literally killing me with anticipation," He says. "Open the bag!"

"Jeez." JJ whistles.

"We almost died over this," Pope says like its an explanation. But he's right. We did almost die for this, which is why I need to know what's in it now.

John B opens the velvet bag. Something heavier than money falls out of it with a thunk. Its round and metal. Dirty and dented. Physically ugly and maybe priceless, but it looks familiar. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to study it and rack my brain through where I've seen it before.

"Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right," Pope sighs at the sight of our treasure. "Good job, everybody. We found a compass."

The word compass hits me like a train and my body goes slack like my limbs just turned into jell-o. John B is already looking at me, shocked at the real meaning of what we just found. I push myself in front of JJ and look down at the object he's holding. Priceless maybe true to the others but not to me. Not to John B. This means everything.

JJ looks between John B and I and laughs nervously at our reactions. "Dude, what? It's not worth anything."

My brows furrow together in confusion as I try to wrap my head around how we just found our dad's possession on another man's boat. A dead man's boat. But I feel blank. Like someone just wiped all my thoughts and memories.

"This was our father's compass," I say emotionless, keeping my eyes on JB who looks equally as terrified.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick @moniamaybank @urbinoutfiters @brebear121 @x-lulu

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj fic #jj x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks #john b routledge #outer banks rewrite #jj maybank x oc #pope heyward #kiara carrera #obx fic #obx

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Seventeen)

Summary: (Y/N) and Jack follow up on a new lead and make a startling new discovery.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen Kent, England (Previous Chapter)

“Now I remember why I enjoy living in Los Angeles.” (Y/N) grumbled, switching on the windshield wipers and squinting through the down-pouring of rain. “Don’t you just hate the rain sometimes?”

Jack shrugged beside her, his nose buried in a large map as he replied, “Yeah, I guess so. This rain’s pretty tame compared to the stuff we got in the Pacific, though; that was like takin’ a hot shower in the middle of a humid summer. Definitely not something I missed when I shipped back home.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You’re right, that sounds a whole lot worse. How much farther until the turnoff?”

“It should be coming up in less than a mile-urgh, sorry, kilometer, and it should be somewhere on your left.”

They continued driving through the rain, the comfortable silence between them only permeated by the sounds of the rental car’s radio signal cutting in and out. Their visit to the SFC had been more fruitful than either of them predicted it would; for one, they managed to steal an entire classified file detailing Michael Carter’s undercover mission within Hydra and for another, that file contained not one but two hidden messages. One was in the form of a code while the other had been written in invisible ink; as it turned out, the final code from ‘M. Carter’s’ file that had stumped (Y/N) for so long was actually a cypher for the code on their newly-acquired file. It had taken (Y/N) nearly a week of staring at various number and letter sequences to crack it, only to be left with straightforward coordinates that led directly to Gravesend, Kent.

Unfortunately, the invisible message hadn’t been quite as useful to them; (Y/N) and a slightly-disgusted Jack had used a candle to heat the urine-covered page and reveal a paragraph of code but no matter what she tried, she couldn’t decode it. She and Jack had poured over all her translation journals and brainstormed every possible style of code but it looked like nothing she’d ever seen before; the code didn’t even resemble any of the ones Michael had invented to conceal his intel. Maybe Peggy and I can work on it together once we return to the States, she thought with an inward sigh, frustrated that she couldn’t use the skills she’d spent years honing and perfecting to help further their case.

“You’re kinda quiet over there, Specs. Everything okay?”

Glancing over at the man beside her, (Y/N) nodded and gave him a fleeting smile before turning her attention back to the road, feeling her face beginning to warm at his concerned tone. “Just lost in thought, that’s all.”

Something had shifted between her and Jack after she’d confided in him about Freddie’s death; he’d been more considerate and thoughtful whenever they spoke, a far cry from the smug and self-assured man she’d first met all those months ago, and for nearly a week now they’d slept together in the same bed. They’d often joke that it was because their hotel suite was too drafty but (Y/N) knew that it was really because sharing a bed had resulted in the best sleep either of them had experienced in a long while. When their unspoken arrangement had first begun, she’d warned herself not to get used to it but she’d failed spectacularly in that regard; as much as she wanted to solve the case for Peggy’s sake, she was dreading the day when Jack would inevitably return to his old life as Chief of the New York SSR and she’d be left alone once again.

“You sure you’re okay? You’ve got that little line between your eyebrows that you only get whenever you’re worried ‘bout something.” (Y/N) looked over at him in surprise and he merely shrugged. “It’s another one of your tells, Specs, along with fidgeting your hands.”

“Geez, remind me never to play poker with you.” She chuckled to herself before looking back at the road. “I was just thinking about these coordinates. Why would Michael bother coding the coordinates of a small town like Gravesend?

Her partner shrugged beside her. “I’ve got no idea, but that’s why we’ve come prepared for anything.” He patted the shoulder holster that was hidden underneath his navy-colored raincoat; her own gun was tucked into her clutch, alongside her various lock-picking tools, her tube of 103-Forget Me Not lipstick and the camera-pen Howard had lent her before they’d left Los Angeles.

In no time, they reached the small town of Gravesend and the heavy rain had thankfully lightened to a faint drizzle as she parked the car. There weren’t many people outside but just to be on the safe side, (Y/N) and Jack walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, looking every part the happily married couple; their cover allowed them to easily observe and investigate the town without drawing suspicion, and to keep up appearances, they engaged in small talk as they walked but their focus was entirely on their reconnaissance…well, almost entirely.

“I’m serious, Flyboy, I think it’s very sweet that you call your grandmother ‘Gam-Gam!’” (Y/N) insisted, watching as her partner’s blush deepened. The nickname had slipped out when he’d made an offhand comment about one of the houses looking like his grandmother’s, much to his embarrassment and her amusement. “Listen, would it make you feel better if you knew that I have a special nickname for my grandmother? If I tell you what it is, though, you’d better not blabber to anyone else in the office about it…”

Jack raised a challenging brow at her. “Okay, then. What do you call your grandmother?”

“I call her ‘Ram’, because when I was little I couldn’t pronounce certain letters very well.” Her own face flushed as Jack’s azure eyes twinkled with amusement. “There, are you happy now?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I just…” He trailed off, his expression growing serious as he nodded his head towards something in the distance. “I think we just found out why these coordinates are important, Specs.”

Furrowing her brow in confusion, (Y/N) followed his line of sight and nearly gasped aloud at what she saw; at the end of the street stood a sign that read ‘Attwell Airfield’ and an arrow pointing towards the right. “Well, I’ll be damned…” She looked up at Jack and quirked her brow. “How do you feel about a little snooping around?”

“You took the words right outta my mouth.”

When they were sure that no one was looking their way, (Y/N) and Jack made their way down the end of the road and turned right; they walked down the road for several meters before they came across a small path that led off into a line of trees and bushes. Exchanging a look, they followed the path and slowly made their way through the vegetation towards the direction of the airfield.

“Strange that an airfield was never mentioned in any of the files we got on Thomas Attwell,” Jack commented, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of trouble. “You think it’s new?”

“It’s possible. If I were heading the new Secret Empire, I’d certainly want a private means of traveling.” Shrugging, (Y/N) ducked underneath a low-hanging tree branch and glanced over at her partner walking beside her. “It’s also possible that it’s been around for a while now. Thomas Attwell’s brother was an R.A.F. pilot during the war, remember? It could be family-owned, like the orangery back in Los Angeles.”

They continued their trek through the forest of trees, soon reaching the edge of the vegetation; careful to conceal themselves behind the trunk of a wide tree, they examined the airfield; it was on the small side, similar to descriptions she’d heard of the one Howard owned in New Jersey. The airfield’s hangar was only a few dozen meters away from the tree line but from their spot, it was impossible to see if any planes were situated inside of it.

Just as (Y/N) opened her mouth to suggest they get a closer look, two men dressed in tactical gear and holding rifles rounded both corners of the hangar; they passed by each other right in front of the building’s back door and disappeared around each corner. When she looked over at Jack, he was alternating between looking down at his wristwatch and back up at the corners the two guards had appeared from; without glancing away from his task, her partner quietly asked, “How fast can you pick a lock?”

“Between two and five minutes, depending on the type of lock.”

He nodded. “That’ll have to do. When I give the signal, follow my lead.”

The two of them waited with bated breath until finally, the guards appeared around the corners again. They remained still as the two guards disappeared from view, only moving when Jack motioned with his hand to go; they quietly hurried to the hangar’s back door, and (Y/N) knelt down in front of it to determine which tools she’d need while Jack kept watch beside her with his gun at the ready. It was a sturdier lock than the one she’d picked at Fieldman Family Orangery – obviously she’d need to use something better than a hairpin – but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Hurriedly rifling through her crowded purse, she selected the appropriate tools and quickly went about picking the lock, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. After a tense minute or two, the door unlocked with a faint click; since she knew that their time was running out, she jumped to her feet and followed Jack through the doorway, careful to close the door shut behind them.

“Storage room,” Jack lowly stated, his gun at the ready as they crept between rows of plane components and mechanic’s tools; careful not to make any noise, (Y/N) pulled her gun and camera pen out of her clutch before cramming it into her raincoat’s pocket. “This way.”

He led them through the storage room and through an open doorway into a larger, less cluttered space; the cavernous room was nearly empty save for a row of large wooden crates, the sides of which were stamped with the familiar horse-and-vine symbol of the new Secret Empire. Once they made their way over to the crates, Jack holstered his gun and carefully pried the lid off of one of them.

“Looks like we’ve finally found all that stolen gold.” (Y/N) glanced up from the stacked and marked gold bars, meeting her partner’s gaze with a raised brow; he nodded and watched as she used the camera pen to take several pictures, replacing the lid while she tucked the camera pen into her other pocket.

The sound of approaching footsteps forced the two of them to hastily drop behind the crate, and they both held their breaths as a man called out, “Okay, this is the last of it; you guys go grab the others while I let the boss know we’re about done loading the plane.”

“C’mon, let’s move.” Jack quietly spoke as the voices and footsteps faded away, and they both hurried across the large room to a set of metal stairs; since they couldn’t go the same way the voices were coming from, they immediately climbed the stairs and ducked into the room behind the windowed door. When it was clear that they were alone, they lowered their guns and took in their surroundings; the room was on the smaller side, with a desk pushed against one wall laden with various radio equipment and papers, and across from it was a massive window. “All clear; looks like a radio room.”

Already reaching into her pocket for her camera pen, (Y/N) tiptoed to the desk and examined the papers strewn across its surface; there were several telegrams and documents but what instantly drew her attention was a marked map, the edges of which were filled in with sequences of random numbers.

“They’re loading it into a cargo plane,” She looked over to where Jack stood by the windows and met his concerned gaze. “All that gold’s gonna be headed somewhere real soon and I’d bet anything it’s going to Leviathan. We need to find out exactly where that plane’s going, fast.”

Careful not to disturb any of the papers too much, (Y/N) began snapping photographs of them with the camera pen. She was in the middle of taking a photograph of the unusual map when all of a sudden, the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the hangar and was soon punctuated by the shattering of the radio room’s window, causing her entire body to freeze up in shock.

“Get down!” Jack shouted out and before she could even think to move, he tackled her to the floor and covered her body with his own as more gunshots rang out and glass rained down on them. Raising his head a few inches, her partner’s eyes frantically searched hers and his free hand shot up to shield her face from more shattering glass. “Are you hit?”

“I’m fine, but we need to go!” They both crawled over to the window once he rolled off of her, mindful of the glass while they both clutched their guns in their hands. Their backs were pressed against the wall and gunshots continued to ring out as (Y/N) got an idea. “You go back around to the hangar while I draw their fire!”

Jack didn’t look too happy about it but since there was no time to argue he nodded, keeping low to the ground as he made his way to the radio room’s door. She moved so that she stood beside the broken window and waited until Jack left the room to peek around the window’s edge and opening fire, managing to hit two guards before she was forced to duck for cover.

“Dammit, these guys just don’t quit.” (Y/N) grumbled to herself, darting around to fire off a couple more shots and moving back just in time to avoid the fresh barrage of bullets. She didn’t dare look, but she heard the sounds of a scuffle breaking out in the hangar below and assumed that it was Jack taking care of the guards. He certainly took his time there, she thought as she finally released the breath she’d been holding.

“Well, you’re certainly not who I expected to see.” Whirling around, (Y/N) raised her gun at the smirking dark-haired woman standing in the open doorway; the woman’s brow rose, seemingly unperturbed by the gun pointed directly at her chest. “That’s too bad, I’d hoped that Peggy and I would get a chance to catch up.”

A chill went down (Y/N)’s spine at her words and her fingers tightened around the handle of her gun. “Dottie Underwood. So, it’s true, you’ve begun working for the Secret Empire.”

Dottie smirked. “Begun? Oh, honey, we’ve been friendly for quite a while now, ever since they commissioned me to steal from a New York bank’s safety deposit box.”

“The Arena Club pin? The Secret Empire was behind that?”

The Russian spy rolled her eyes in obvious exasperation. “Yes, that’s what I just said. You SSR types are pretty dense, aren’t you?”

“Not dense, just very thorough.” (Y/N) held her gun higher. “Dorothy Underwood, you’re under arrest.” With a quirk of her brow, Dottie took a step forward. “If you take another step, I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

“Do you wanna hear a secret, Agent (Y/L/N)? You’re all out of bullets.”

Squeezing the trigger of her gun, (Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise when it only made a faint click. Dottie took full advantage of her shock, kicking the gun out of her hand and striking her hard in the stomach with her heeled shoe; (Y/N) flew backwards and landed hard on her back, and she scrambled to her feet as the Russian assassin moved in for another attack. (Y/N) blocked her punch and yanked her down before kneeing her in the torso. Recovering quickly, Dottie backhanded her face and grabbed her arm, flipping her over her shoulder and onto her back once again.

The wind was instantly knocked out of (Y/N)’s lungs and while she laid their coughing, Dottie stood over her with a taunting smirk on her face. “You’re too easy; Peggy would’ve at least made it a challenge.”

“We’ve got Thompson, Underwood, time to go!”

(Y/N)’s eyes darted over to the radio from where the familiar voice of Thomas Attwell had emitted, fear clutching at her chest as Dottie sighed in disappointment. “It’s been swell, Agent (Y/L/N), but I have a plane to catch.”

With a swift kick to (Y/N)’s side, the Russian assassin snatched up the papers on the desk and quickly fled the room; (Y/N) struggled to get to her feet and once she finally managed it, she clutched her stomach and limped over to the radio room’s broken window. There was a large cargo plane at the opposite end of the hangar, and she watched as Dottie strode up its extended ramp beside Attwell, who was carrying an unconscious Jack Thompson over his shoulder.

“No!”

Ignoring the pain of her injuries, (Y/N) hurried out of the radio room and down the metal stairs, stopping for a brief moment to grab one of the dead guard’s rifles before staggering into the hangar. The plane’s ramp had closed and it was already taxing down the runway; she aimed the rifle at one of the plane’s wheels and fired, cursing when the shot missed. In desperation, (Y/N) ran through the hangar as fast as she could but she was too late, for the plane had already taken off by the time she reached the hangar’s opening.

“Jack…Jack…” (Y/N) gasped out, her vision blurring with tears as she watched the plane disappear into the clouds; she felt something brush her foot and when she looked down, she recognized it as Jack’s fedora. Reaching down, she gently picked it up and after staring at it for several moments, she finally allowed herself to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: That ending though...wow. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger but I had to! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Eighteen

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #howard stark #dottie underwood #michael carter #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Double the Joy - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: scolding a child, fluffy family stuff

Word count: 4,585

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: I still suck at writing baby talk so I am expecting an army of toddlers to get me soon! 🙈

Nova

“Alright, so then we place this one here...”

Charlie was sitting on the floor with Aoede and they were doing a puzzle together. It was gifted to her by Arthur when she turned 3 but she didn't show any interest in it until this morning when she found it in her room and the second she showed it to us Charlie had to promise her that they will complete it after lunch.

The puzzle is of a dinosaur mum and her newly hatched baby. I found it amusing but not at all surprising because Arthur loved Muggle things and for some reason, Aoede was more than intrigued by them too.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't very pleased that Aoede was more excited about some giant Muggle chickens that don't even exist any more than dragons but once they had the frame down, he got into it.

“Dad, we need another piece hele!” Aoede pointed her tiny finger to where she noticed a piece was missing and they both started to search for it on the big pile they set up together to easily find the right puzzle piece.

I was half laying on the sofa, sipping on my tea and observing them bonding. It was better than Tom and Jerry or any other show or cartoon. Every time they were doing something together I took my time to just stare and admire them. Aoede might be a miniature me but in so many hidden ways she was just like Charlie and I loved to figure those things out and later point them out to him because it meant so much to him to know that she caught some of his genes as well, besides his red hair.

One of the first things I noticed was the way she gets angry – it's all of a sudden and she gives it her all – and Charlie is the same. They both don't know how to handle their temper. With Charlie, I got used to it. With Aoede, it's adorable – for now.

It's also how she frowns and presses her lips together when she is mad. Charlie does the same expression and since she copies so many things after me, I think she got that one from Charlie – probably when he comes home mad when one of the dragons was disobedient and his interns didn't know how to handle it properly.

It shows the most, however, when they cook together. The way they both concentrate when they are measuring things or how they mix the ingredients in the pot. Aoede bends over when she searches for something in the fridge the same way Charlie does and she tends to lower her voice while baking for some reason and I didn't notice that Charlie does the same until last week when he had a sudden inspiration to make banana bread.

Being more than 8 months pregnant, I couldn't do much. Unlike the morning sickness when I was pregnant with Aoede, I feel constantly tired with this one so I am mostly resting and taking every opportunity I can to nap.

At first, it bothered me because I felt so useless, and seeing Charlie being so busy with cleaning and cooking while still going to work and playing with Aoede, I felt like I am not contributing much. The second I expressed my concern, Charlie was quick to calm me down saying that being pregnant and granting his wish to have another baby was contributing enough.

As always, I tried protesting for a few days and even cooked a few meals and bathed Aoede a few times – despite that being one of Charlie's favorite things to do because they splash each other and flood the bathroom. At first, Charlie just glared at me and said nothing, knowing full well that I was stubborn enough to try my best. But the second he saw that it was draining me and that I started sleeping more and more he made me stop and I finally gave in.

Now, I love my quality time on the sofa because I usually have the honor of watching Charlie play with Aoede and it's just the most beautiful sight of how much he loves to spend time with her and how much fun Aoede is having when she has daddy's full attention.

“Okay, we did that part, now to the tail...” Charlie started searching for puzzle pieces again, while Aoede came to me, gave me a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She did that every time she thought that she was spending too much time with her dad and was making me jealous. Every fifteen minutes or so she would pause whatever she was doing and take the opportunity to come and show me that she loves me too.

A knock on the door disturbed our precious little moment and I started to get up.

“I'll get it, love, no need to get up.” Charlie lifted his hand at me to stop me.

“No, no. You two are busy. Let me go, I have to stretch my legs a little anyway.” I smiled at him and he bestowed me with an appreciative smile back, clearly having the best time with his daughter.

I slowly made my way to the hallway and opened the door.

“Good evening!” Bill grinned the second he saw me, his eyes moving from mine to my belly, before pulling me in a hug.

“Oh, my, you are getting big! I can't believe less than a month to go!” Fleur exclaimed and embraced me too.

“Aoede, your godparents are here!” I shouted toward the living room.

“Sorry, dad, I have to go.” I heard Aoede whisper to Charlie before she started running toward us.

“Uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill!” Aoede crashed into Bill with such force that she almost knocked them both over.

“Look at you!” Bill took her in his arms. “Since when are you so big?”

“Uncle Bill, you saw me less than a month ago!” Aoede giggled.

“I know, but still. You must've grown for a full head!” Bill exaggerated.

“Nuh-uh! Tell him, auntie Fleul, he is lying!” Aoede leaned closer to Fleur to hug her too before returning to pay her full attention to Bill's ponytail failing to make it into a braid.

“'e's right! You 'ave grown!” Fleur tickled Aoede's belly, loving how easily entertained she was.

“Look, uncle Bill, auntie Fleul! Daddy and I ale making a puzzle!” Aoede grabbed both of her god parent's hands and rushed them to the living room the second Bill put her down.

“Dinosaurs,” Bill sniggered, “let me guess, a gift from grandpa Artie?”

“Yes!” Aoede lifted her hands excitedly in the air.

“I can see Charlie iz very 'appy about dinosaurs.” Fleur pressed her lips together not to laugh as she sat next to me on the sofa while Bill joined Charlie and Aoede to finish the puzzle.

“So, 'ow are you?” Fleur put her hand on my knee, her eyes that were glued to my belly were sparkling.

“I am about the same. Still very tired but it's almost over.” I sighed and smiled at her.

“You are doing great and it will be worth it once you zee your new baby.” She exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her – she was hiding something. Bill and Fleur were married for 2 years now and we have become really good friends and it's been nice to not be the only girl to marry into the Weasley family. They visit us often, especially now that the dark times are behind us and Aoede expresses that she misses her favorite aunt and uncle.

Only Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and I know that Aoede loves them the most and promised that we won't tell anyone else in the family no to crush their hearts as they all fought to be the favorite of their only niece.

Since we see each other more often, I had the chance to get to know Fleur better which meant I learned when she was hiding something. She has been very supportive ever since we told them and the family that we are pregnant again and even offered for Aoede to stay with them for a week at Shell Cottage so Charlie and I could get a breather and be properly excited about the expecting bundle of joy.

I was used to her asking me how I am and how I am dealing with everything and she even expressed a wish that she wishes to be a mum herself. But her grinning and having sparks in her eyes was something new – as if she couldn't wait to share something with me.

“You are on to me, aren't you?” She giggled as I didn't stop reading her face.

I only hummed in response before looking at Bill who's head was tilted, observing Aoede completing the puzzle with the same sparks in his eyes. I pursed my lips, going full detective mode on this.

“Will you say it on your own or should I just guess?” I smirked, locking eyes with Fleur.

“Guess what?” Charlie looked at us and I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“William, Nova knows.” Fleur pretended to be disappointed.

“Knows what?” Charlie asked confused.

“How did you know? She isn't showing yet.” Bill furrowed his brows.

“Not showing yet?” Charlie's eyes were jumping from Bill to Fleur to me and back.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps all the sparks in your eyes.” I giggled and pointed at both of them, leaving poor Charlie confused.

“I told you she will figure us out!” Fleur's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Okay, somebody has to fill me in!” Charlie didn't look amused at all.

“As I said – will you tell us on your own or should I make a guess?” I cocked an eyebrow at them, giving them one last chance.

“Somebody please just say it.” Charlie ran a hand across his face, looking completely done.

“Let Charlie guess!” Bill laughed, pointing at his brother.

“But –” Charlie frowned at him before giving it some thought.

“So, Nova already knows and it involves both of you and it has to do with sparkling eyes and Fleur not showing something yet.” Charlie had his eyes narrowed, scratching the stubble on his cheek.

Bill, Fleur, and I were watching him solve this mystery, hardly keeping it together. Bill pretended to help Aoede with the puzzle while Fleur and I avoided eye contact not to start laughing. After about 30 seconds of Charlie's gaze switching between his brother and his sister-in-law, his eyes widened in realization.

“Fleur, you're pregnant!” Charlie put his hands over his mouth as Fleur nodded excitedly.

“Not you too!” Before either Charlie and I had a chance to congratulate them Aoede decided to share her opinion on the matter.

“Aoede, you should hug Bill and Fleur and be excited with them,” I said gently and got bestowed with a frown from my daughter.

“Yeah, don't you want a cousin to play with?” Charlie added.

“No!” Aoede stood up, shaking her head. “Couldn't you do this soonel so mum didn't have to get anothel baby?”

Bill and Fleur stared at her with their mouth open. They heard and knew about Aoede not agreeing with mine and Charlie's choice to have another child but they have never witnessed it until now.

“Aoede, that's enough!” Charlie said with a warning voice.

Aoede, who had her mouth slightly opened – ready to say something else – turned to her dad, frowned some more then sat back down in front of her puzzle pretending to search for a piece even though the puzzle was completed and sniffed so silently that I almost didn't catch it.

Bill and Fleur silently exchanged a look while I glared at Charlie who has never risen his voice at Aoede before and even though we couldn't enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy as we did with the first one due to Aoede always having something to say about it, we agreed to be patient with her in the hopes that she would come around.

“Uhm, I need some fresh air,” Bill cleared his throat, “don't you need some fresh air too, Charles?”

Bill nudged his brother and they both stood up. I smiled appreciatively at him and mouthed congratulations not saying it out loud not to get another negative reaction from Aoede.

When they closed the door leading to the back porch behind them, Fleur and I joined Aoede on the floor.

“Sweetheart...”

“Not now, mum. I am busy.” Aoede pretended to sigh, thinking she could hide that she was sobbing.

“Can we 'elp you?” Fleur tilted her head, hoping Aoede would look at her.

“No,” Aoede shook her head, “no, thank you, auntie Fleul.” She tried mustering a smile but failed and instead of her lips curving, she shed another tear.

“Aoede...” I searched for anything to say to her.

It was breaking my heart seeing her this way, trying to hold in the tears and pretending that Charlie's warning voice didn't hurt her.

“Shh, mum. I'm playing.” Aoede lifted her hand at me to stop me from saying anything else.

“Let's give 'er some space,” Fleur whispered to me and stood up.

I was observing my daughter for a moment or so more before Fleur nudged me with her foot to join her.

Charlie

“That was something,” Bill said after we were sitting on the bench in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. I don't know what got over me. I never raised my voice at her before.” I shook my head.

I was ashamed of myself – it was wrong and I should've handled the situation better.

“Yeah, it was evident that this never happened before,” Bill said gently.

“Nova and I promised to each other that we won't talk about the pregnancy in front of her and I guess it just got to me. We were so excited to have another baby and you know I want a bigger family and I just wish Aoede would share that excitement with us.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“She'll come around. I was even younger when dad told me mum was pregnant with you and I was in complete shock trying to convince them that they were wrong.” Bill laughed.

“Wait what?” I asked, incredulously. “You never told me this before.”

“Yeah, I was mad and did not want you at all and now look at us. I can't imagine my life without you.” Bill put an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair.

“But you were always so nice and took care of me.”

“Yeah, you and your cute freckles grew on me.” He winked at me.

“How long did you need to warm up to me?” I wanted to know.

“You would have to ask mum that. I only remember that I threw a tantrum when I had to stay with aunt Muriel when you were being born. Don't you remember how angry you were when mum was pregnant with Percy? You were about Aoede's age.” Bill giggled.

“I do not remember that at all,” I answered honestly.

“We were both mad. I liked the idea of just being the two of us and when our parents told us that they will have another baby they ruined that fantasy and I remember we made a pact about not liking the baby.” Bill was clapping his hand against his knee, laughing so much.

“So we should expect the alliance between Aoede and our second-born when we'll have the third one?” I playfully shook my head.

“Yeah, get ready for that.” Bill gasped for air.

“Thank you for telling me this, Bill. I feel more hopeful that Aoede will come around but even worse about shouting at her.” I bowed my head.

“You're welcome and you'll apologize to her.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, looking up at the starry sky.

“So you still don't know the gender of the baby?” He asked after us being silent for a few minutes.

“Nope. We loved the surprise when the doctor told us Aoede is a girl and we want to do the same this time around.” I grinned.

“I don't think we'll be able to do it.” Bill rubbed his chin. “We're just so excited, you know!”

“Oh, now I can finally say congratulations!” I embraced my brother. “I can't believe I'm going to be a dad again within a month and an uncle in...”

“About 8 months.” Bill finished my sentence. “And thank you. Fleur isn't even a month in so you are the only ones who know for now.”

“Understandable.” I nodded.

“So,” Bill nudged me with his elbow, “any fatherly wisdom to share?”

“I can't believe there is something I can lecture you about and not the other way around.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you beat me to it.” Bill joined me.

“Well, up until the moment you witnessed inside before, I reckon we have been pretty great with our daughter. Treat your child as an adult and talk to them and pay them attention and value their opinion as much as you can. Children are smarter than we give them credit for and always listen to what they like and try making them happy with those things.” I pursed my lips, trying to think of more things.

“How about the pregnancy? Is it normal to feel left out?”

“Oh, yeah. I felt terrible when Nova had morning sickness and I couldn't do anything about it.” I sighed. “But I have learned that just being there for her and encourage her and tell her she is doing great goes a long way.” I grinned.

“Right.” Bill was focused, taking every word I said in.

“Also, try and do as much as you can around the house and for her so she can have a proper rest.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and massage her feet every time you remember. I know Nova would kill for a foot massage especially in the final months when their feet get really swollen.” I explained.

“Got it.” Bill nodded.

“Other than that just be excited and celebrate every moment. Honestly, we were obsessed with Aoede before she was even born.” I giggled. “You mean how you told her stories and sang to her while she was still in Nova's belly?” Bill sniggered.

“How do you know about that?” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“Nova wrote me about it.” He winked at me.

“Well, it's sweet and you'll turn all mushy too once you become a dad.” I lifted my chin, proudly.

“I have no doubt about that. I can't wait.” Bill couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

“You're going to be a great dad.” I patted him on the back.

“If I'm half a father you are, I'll be proud of myself.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it – that compliment meant a lot to me.

Bill was always better in most things we did and he always beat me in everything. But I guess when it comes to being married and having children, I was more experienced and it felt nice to give him advice instead of receiving it for a change.

“Speaking of being a good father...” I cleared my throat and looked at the door.

“Go, go talk to your little girl.” Bill encouraged me and we stood up.

Nova

“She obviously wanted to be alone,” Fleur said in a low voice when we sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes still on Aoede.

“I know but – “ I pressed my lips together.

I knew that if I would say another word my voice would break and I would start to cry – my hormones were getting the best of me. We found the whole thing about Aoede not wanting a sibling funny and we knew that sooner or later she would warm up to the baby but now that I saw how hurt she was when Charlie stopped her from sharing her opinion with us, I realized how serious this was for her.

“Waz zis ze first time Charlie raised 'is voice at 'er?” Fleur put her hand over mine.

“Yes.” I nodded and finally turned to her.

“It must've shocked 'er,” Fleur said understandingly. “Mhm.” I hummed not really knowing what to say.

“Are you okay? I can zee zis is eating you alive,” Fleur said with concern in her voice.

“I have no memories of how I was when I was her age and being an only child I never had to deal with such information and it pains me that I can't relate to her or help her get through this.” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek away.

“I 'ad no idea she iz zo against it.” Fleur was a bit shocked.

“Yeah, it came to a point where Charlie and I started to question if we made a mistake getting pregnant again.” I sighed, remembering all the moments when Aoede got mad when we discussed anything about the pregnancy.

“But you want a bigger family.” Fleur tried cheering me up.

“That's true but the first time around, we celebrated – just me and Charlie. This time we wanted Aoede to join us and share this happy moment with us and she is just not having it and how are we supposed to be excited about it when our daughter is completely miserable over it?”

“She will come around, trust me. I waz ze same.” Fleur chuckled.

“You were?” I brushed another tear away before looking at her.

“Of course! I zink all children are. When my parents told me about being pregnant with Gabrielle I wanted to run away from 'ome!” Fleur laughed, reminiscing on the memory.

“And when did you come around?” I sniffed, a bit cheered up.

“When zey brought 'er from ze 'ospital. When I saw 'er and saw that my parents wanted to include me and still loved me ze same, I calmed down and in a few weeks I was prepared to die for 'er.” Fleur sent me a smile.

“I hope she will be the same.” I looked back at Aoede, who was still sitting in the same position.

“Trust me, you 'ave nothing to worry about. You celebrate your second baby without worry.” Fleur stood up and hugged me tightly – as tightly as my big belly allowed her.

“Thank you, Fleur. Your words really eased my mind.” I murmured.

“Any time.” Fleur smiled and sat back down.

“And congratulations. I am so happy for you two.” I tried to sound excited and whisper at the same time, not wanting to upset Aoede again.

“Zank you! We couldn't be 'appier!” Fleur clapped her hands together.

“How far along are you?” I wanted to know.

“About three weeks. We are not telling anyone else yet but we wanted to tell you.” Fleur was shaking from excitement.

“Oh, our babies are going to be so close in age!” I jumped in my seat.

“I know! I never thought we are going to be pregnant togezer!” Fleur grinned. “Any tips?”

“Well, be prepared for the morning sickness which kicks in at about six weeks, and try to not overwork yourself even though you feel very energetic. Listen to your body even if it has weird food combinations in mind for you to try,” I giggled, “and ask Bill to often massage your feet. That feels so good when they get all swollen.”

“Oh, I can believe that!” Fleur chuckled.

“Other than that, listen to what your doctor says and advises you and try not to think about it too much and with that I mean just try and continue your daily life as much as you can. I went to work until my 5th month and I would continue to go if Charlie wouldn't protest so much.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Do you think Bill will be ze same?” She laughed.

“Oh, yes, most definitely! Be prepared for that!” I joined her.

After our giggles quieted down, I looked at Aoede again.

“I will try talking to her again,” I said to Fleur and stood up.

Right when I reached her, Charlie returned with Bill.

“Love, let me handle this.” He whispered to me, avoiding my eyes.

“No, I can do it.”

“Please, I feel bad. Let me fix my mistake.” Charlie pleaded. “I shouldn't have reacted as I did and I want to apologize to you too. We promised we will give her time and I snapped.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

I watched him sit down next to Aoede and then joined Bill on the sofa, who welcomed me with his arms wide open.

Charlie

“Pumpkin, can I sit next to you?” I asked Aoede with a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Aoede replied, her head bowed down, looking at the puzzle.

“Do you have the time to talk?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

“Daddy wants to apologize for how he talked to you earlier. I was wrong and I am sorry.” I wanted to hug her so badly but I knew we weren't there yet.

“It's okay dad, I undelstand,” Aoede said with her cute voice.

“It's not okay,” I shook my head, “I shouldn't have lost my temper with you.”

“But you love the baby.” Aoede finally looked up at me, her red and puffy eyes broke my heart.

“I do, Pumpkin, but that doesn't mean I love you any less.” I dared to move a bit closer to her.

“I just don't want anything to change,” Aoede sighed, “I like that it's just you, me, and mum.”

“I know, Pumpkin but as mum and I told you before, nothing will change. We will still love you the same, treat you the same, give you the attention and play with you.” I ruffled her soft hair.

“You plomise?” Aoede bestowed me with the sweetest puppy eyes that I have ever gotten.

“I swear on my job.” I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“But,” Aoede gasped loudly, “daddy, you love youl job!”

“Exactly, but I love you and mum and the baby more so that's how you know that I am not lying to you.” I gestured for her to sit in my lap and she climbed over my leg.

“Okay,” Aoede took a deep breath, “I will tly and do bettel.”

“Aoede, it's okay. I understand. Your uncle Bill and I were the same when we found out about your uncle Percy. I know how you feel now and I shouldn't have reacted as I did. I should've been more patient with you and give you time.” I frowned, still disappointed in myself.

“Do you and mum want this baby?” Aoede looked up at me.

“As much as you want to see a unicorn.”

“That much?” Aoede stared at me in awe. “But that is a lot!”

“Yes, that much.”

“Okay, daddy. I will tly to want the baby too.” Aoede pushed more into my body and I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“You will?” I asked surprised, not expecting this outcome at all.

“I will. I sweal on a unicoln.”

I gasped dramatically, knowing how much unicorns mean to her, and made her giggle. As she turned around and looked at me lovingly with her big blue eyes, it warmed my heart knowing that we will be just fine.

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