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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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My Heart Will Go On 🤍 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine | Titanic AU

Set where Bradley falls in love with a first class passenger aboard Titanic

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: third class!Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x first class!female reader (romantic), Natasha Trace x Jake Seresin (romantic), Robert Floyd, Mickey Garcia, Reuben Fitch, Javy Machado, OCs for family members.

Content Warnings: fluff, major angst, profanity, classism and mentions of sexism & misogyny, historical event disaster, death, emotional, light smut-Minors DNI! | female!reader (she/her) wc: 18.3k (this is long be warned)

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: On Wednesday April 10th, 1912, RMS Titanic set sail from Southampton, England on her maiden voyage to America. She carried thousands of passengers from across the world, including 21-year-old American socialite Y/n L/n. No one could have predicted the outcome the ship they said was unsinkable would endeavor. And for Y/n, never did it come to her she’d be boarding a ship with a path of leading her to her soulmate.

Note: Y’all I literally was a MESS during the final few scenes I wrote—I literally had to stop because I was crying. It didn’t help I was playing the Hymn of the Sea and My Heart Will Go On and envisioning the scenes as I wrote them. It was too much really—and I always cry at the end of the movie so it felt the same. Please not this is NOT an exact retelling of the movie plot, i referenced a lot but also did research on the real story of titanic (for example how it was a moonless night so it was very dark). Anyway I’m sorry if this made you a mess like it did to me….we can cry together.

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1958

“Grandma, can you tell us the story about how you met Papa?”

Crickles rose next to her eyes when she softly smiled, bringing the bed sheet up to tuck in the children. Only the dim light from the candle lit the room. Down the hall, the faint sound of Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me To The Moon,” on the record player could be heard. She didn’t even hear her daughter, the children’s mother, come in.

“Honey, you both need to sleep,” the woman knew the subject was a sore one for her mother and father, despite being why they met. In her nearly forty years of life, she’d only heard the story first hand from them once. Any other information was the lectures in history class of the historical tragedy. “We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow so you need to be well rested,” her look was scolding, causing the children, ten and twelve, to pout.

“Pleaaase.”

“Amelia.”

“It’s only half past eight, mama.”

“Yeah, please just one story,” Rebecca pleaded with her sister, “You said they met on a boat like the one we went on last summer!”

Their mother hushed them, “No, I said they met on a ship—that’s very different from the little steamboat your uncle and aunt have.” Her voice goes lower, careful to not to disturb her father from down the hall, “and what did I tell you about asking such things?”

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” the older woman finally stepped in, casting a soft look to her daughter.

She didn’t look convinced, aware of the painful memories the story would bring up. Losing friends and family so suddenly on what was supposed to be the journey of a lifetime. “Mom…..”

“Trust me, Cynthia, it’s okay. You need not to worry about me,” she turns to her grandchildren who appear confused and a little ashamed for causing their mother to scold them. “I think it’s time these little ones get a little history lesson about your father and I. How the Bradshaws came to be.”

“Are you sure?” Cynthia stepped further into the room. She didn’t want to admit it, but she too wanted to hear the story again. The first time had been when she was eighteen, confronting her parents after she found newspaper clippings and the ticket for a first class passenger reading her mother’s name, Y/n L/n, stashed away in a box when they were moving. That’s when they sat her down at the table detailing everything from start to finish.

By the time her parents finished telling the story Cynthia was in a puddle of tears. She understood why her parents always had a haunted look in their eyes whenever April 14th rolled by. It never left them until the 16th, since the 15th was just as significant. Her older sister by eight years, Caroline, warned her to refrain from asking their parents about how they met and she soon realized why. After doing the math, her sister’s birthday was exactly nine months to the day, born on the 14th of January in 1913.

As she got older Cynthia met more children like her. Those whose parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts were among the nearly 2,300 passengers and crew aboard. Children whose family members survived had the same look when the anniversary passed. Just like Cynthia’s parents.

“Mom,” she took a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room, “I don't want you to relive it if it’s too much.”

“I appreciate your concern, honey,” Y/n smiled at her, “but I’ve learned to cope and manage. Your father has too,” she watched Cynthia visibly relax. “In fact, he and I have talked about it a few times since you left home. And I promise to keep it short—and not go into detail about….you know,” she didn’t have to explain further for Cynthia already knew what she implied.

With a nod from her daughter, Y/n adjusts her position so she’s seated more comfortably, allowing the children and Cynthia to see her better. “To tell you the story of how Papa and I met,” she begins, the flicker of the candlelight reflecting against her. “We have to travel back forty-six years. To April tenth, nineteen-twelve…..”

“Hurry, Y/n, we’re gonna be late for check-in!” Her father shouted from in front of her, moving at a fast pace with her mother and younger brother. Clutching a bag in each hand, Y/n tried not to trip while apologizing left and right to people she bumped with. The dress she had on was tight, the skirt brushing against her ankles and Y/n wished she opted out of wearing the pillbox hat her mother insisted she wore.

“Sorry!” She said when she caused a man to drop his basket of apples. “I’m so sorry!” As much as she wanted to help she couldn’t, the whistle of the luxurious ship sounded off in the near distance, resulting in more stress to consume her. Her family was supposed to be dropped off right in front of the dockway, but due to a rough start in the morning they ended up getting caught in traffic just before the turn into the lot. Now they were running with little time until the ship would set off for Cherbourg, France, the first of two stops before sailing to New York.

It wasn’t a classy sight for such a wealthy family. Surely their fellow first class passengers were watching them with disapproval. But then again they always did.

The L/n’s were not your average high class family. While the majority of the first class aboard came from generations of money, Y/n’s father built his real estate business in New York from the ground up after being in the working class for thirty years. They were what you would call ‘new’ to the high class scene and still did things working class people did. She and her brother went to public schools instead of private institutions. They didn’t have an army of maids and butlers in their home, her mother preferring to do the housework herself. Y/n was in her last semester of NYU with passions of being a writer. And her father was very involved in his business despite making it big to the point he could just hire a bunch of people to run it for him.

To them, money was a privilege that could easily be taken away at any point. They were humble in their wealth, sharing it by putting resources into the low income neighborhoods they once lived in. Unlike their newfound peers who’d rather stockpile it away for safekeeping.

Yeah, even with money you hide away from judgment.

Out of breath already, Y/n finally reached the corner her parents had just turned to arrive at the docking platform. There was no stopping the awe-struck expression in face the second her eyes landed on the giant vessel. The smell of fresh paint struck her nose, gaze drifting to the large lettering that sent chills along her arm.

Titanic.

The rumors did no justice when describing the beauty of the ship. Titanic was magnificent. She wondered if her parents were as captivated as she was.

“Y/n! Come one!”

Scratch that thought. Maybe they weren’t.

Picking up the pace, Y/n hauled up onto the platform with her ticket in hand, amazed she didn’t drop it in the chaos.

“Ticket please,” the man dressed in a White Star Line uniform said with his hand out. Her parents and brother were standing off to the side, now taking in the beauty of the ship since they made it on time.

Handing over the paper, the man read over her information and stamped it, allowing her to pass where another man was waiting to escort them to their suite. Settling in Y/n unpacked her gowns and nightwear, hanging them up to prevent wrinkles. Makeup and what little jewelry she had filled the vanity, school books claiming the nightstand. When she finally finished her back hit the bed with an audible huff of relief, sinking into the mattress adorned with fine silk sheets.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” her father said when he found her just a short moment later. “Lunch will be served and my colleague wishes for us to join him and his son. He’d like for the two of you to meet.”

Instantly Y/n bolted up from the bed, suspicious in her eyes, “Why?” There was no denying the possible reason. At 21 years old, finding a suitor to settle down with was expected of her. Personally Y/n wanted to focus on her studies. Not finding a husband. Her parents never pressured her to find someone, but now it seems her father was suggesting such.

Her mother comes into the room, wearing the same expression as her. Her eyes go straight to Y/n’s father, “I told you, I don’t like that man—nor his son. He has no respect for you and you know that!”

“I know that, dear,” he sighs, exhausted in his tone. “Believe me I’m very aware. Look, I’m not trying to set her up on my own accord—in fact, I’ll be happy to decline a proposal if that is what he’s seeking. But he invited us to have lunch with them and I accepted because that’s how things are done. Honey,” he faces Y/n, giving her an assuring gaze, “I’m not pressuring you into anything. Okay? If I said no to this he’d likely pester the entire journey to America and I did not want that for us. So please, give me an hour of your time to get through this meal? Bore the man if you have to so he’s less interested.”

Y/n was eternally grateful she was blessed with a father who did not engage in the typical high class behaviors. Any other man would be presenting her hand in marriage like an auction. She’d seen it with the few friends she’d made. It always started with a ‘meeting’ arranged by the fathers of two people and before they knew it a rock was on the girl's finger.

Her father respected her. He warned her before she sat at the table and found out for herself. Even given his blessing to scare the man off or assuring he’d say no to a proposal. Not many fathers would do that.

“Thank you for telling me in advance, dad. I’m starving too so let’s get this over with,” she makes a face, knowing what he was going to ask of her next. “And I promise to watch my tongue.”

That didn’t last long. She knew the second she sat at the table it wouldn’t. Not only was her father’s colleague the most arrogant man on the planet with no respect for his peers, but his son was as equally the egotistical maniac as he was. Throughout the entire lunch, Y/n didn’t know who exactly was trying to win her affection. Both men seemed to be trying to one up the other. How odd of the father for doing such when it was thought he planned for his son to hopefully become her suitor.

Not the case really.

One comment from Richard to undermine her intelligence had Y/n bolt from the table with a sneaker remark, disregarding the looks of disdain from the two men and others. Her parents remained invested in their meal, shooting a smirk of approval to their daughter.

“You promised me this would be a mutual agreement!” The man shouted in frustration. Her father simply sipped his champagne.

“I promised no such thing, William. I said your son may meet my daughter, but I made no commitments for her to agree to anything more.”

The fresh air and sound of the sea hit Y/n as she stepped onto the deck, overlooking the rear of the ship where the second and third class decks were. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath before slowly letting it exhale. Men like Willam and Richard were not the first she’d interacted with. Unfortunately most of the male population in high class shared personalities in similar nature.

Egotistical, arrogant, narcissistic. The list goes on. Very little respect for women or those of lesser wealth. Y/n prayed she’d never settle for someone like that. The marriage would be a disaster.

Opening her eyes, Y/n rubbed her hands along the smooth railing before slightly leaning over to get a better look. Murmurs filled her ears, children laughing from the lower decks, the band playing a light melody. It was a pretty scene with the sun high in the sky and seagulls flying overhead. They’d be docking in France soon before stopping in Ireland until finally crossing the Atlantic.

As her eyes drifted over the area, Y/n locked gazes with a man who made no attempt to hide he was staring at her. It caught her off guard, but the young woman couldn’t let but stare herself. He was the most handsome man she’d laid eyes on. Brown hair with almost a golden hue to it. Though it was hard to see the color of his eyes from the distance she assumed they were as beautiful as the rest of him. He was tall—even with the distance she saw in the way he towered over the railing he was beside.

And he was looking at her like she was the only girl in existence.

Blinking, her admiration was cut short by the sound of a cheerful voice shouting, “Y/n!” Spinning around, Y/n was met with the dazzling smile of her best friend, Natasha Trace. Surprise etches her expression.

“Natasha!” The two embrace in a hug. “What—you didn’t tell me you were returning to America. I thought your studies were to finish in London.” Natasha was the only genuine friend Yn had made since her father hit the money pot. Maybe it was because Nat’s family was of humble beginnings like the L/n’s.

“I discussed the potential of finishing the semester early,” Natasha explained, beaming and looking radiant with the way the sun was hitting her. “My father sent a ticket through the post once I told him the news.”

“When was this?” Y/n had recently visited the woman when her family were in London. Her father had a business convention and with the finishing of Titanic, he wanted them to be one of the ships first passengers. During her visit, Nat revealed no indication she’d be joining the maiden voyage to New York.

“Shortly after you departed for Southampton. I only had few exams remaining and my professors were very forthcoming with allowing me to do them early. Plus I missed home. My mother has been writing me daily it seems—waiting for me to come home. I think my father spent all his fortune to get the ticket to me in time.”

“I’m amazed he managed to get one,” Y/n commented, taking her arm in hers as they begin to walk away from the railing, but not before casting a second glance to the man on the lower deck. A swarm of butterflies filled her to see he was still looking at her, his friend having to wave a hand in front of his face as though to pull him from a trance. Another gentleman beside him appeared to be staring at Natasha. She must’ve noticed, a faint blush appeared on her cheeks as Y/n escorted her away. “I heard many had to trade services and goods to get one.”

“I can see why,” Natasha waved to the beautiful vessel surrounding them. “This place is magnificent. Almost as though it were a ship made of dreams.” They continued to walk along the deck, nodding to passengers and crew members who greeted them.

“What are your plans once we arrive home? Off to visit your family I presume?”

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, waving to a small child. “I’ll spend a few days with them—my sisters cannot wait to hear of my adventures in England.”

Y/n hums, turning her head slightly with a knowing gaze, “And what of Alan?” She watched a tired sigh leave Natasha, face becoming defeated.

“He expects an answer from me as soon as I return.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“Of course,” Natasha replies, stopping to face her. “I’ve weighed in the advantages marrying him would bring me and my family—my mother is sure to remind me in every letter she writes. He is kind, generous, not like the other men my father wished me to court.”

“But….” Y/n trails off, eyes sympathetic.

“But,” her friend sighs again, “I do not feel what a woman is supposed to feel for her potential fiance. I can’t bring myself to love him. I like him, Y/n, I truly do. But I’d only be hurting the both of us by accepting.”

“Then tell him the truth,” Y/n tells her, bringing a comforting hand to Natasha’s shoulder. “Alan is an understanding man—you’ve been a friend of his since grade school. I doubt he would fault you for not being able to return his affections. Why subject the both of you to pain and a miserable marriage? What happens if you marry him and then fall in love with another?”

Natasha didn’t answer, glancing to the floor with heat coating her cheeks. Y/n squeezed the shoulder she was touching, “Come, let us have a drink,” she began to lead Nat to one of the many lounges in first class, “Take your mind off things while I tell you all about the father and son I recently had lunch with.”

“That sounds interesting…and a little concerning.”

“Trust, dear friend, it was.”

Later on in the evening, Y/n was pulling Natasha to her room to hand over clothing for her to change into.

“This is a horrible idea, Y/n!” She spoke in a rush, untying her dress and moving to be hidden from view.

“Oh it’s not so bad,” Y/n laughed, tossing the clothing she wore on the bed before pulling on the slacks and shirt. “Have some fun. Were you not the one who wanted to explore the ship earlier?”

“Not by sneaking into the third-class compartments!” She waved a hand like it was obvious, “We’re not allowed down there. What if we get caught?”

“That’s why I told you to have your ticket with you,” Y/n reminded her, placing her own ticket into the pocket of her trousers. “And your identification card. If we get caught we show them and if they still do not believe us I will send for my father.”

“You’re awfully confident about this.”

“Natasha, who’s to say we’ll get the chance to travel this ship again once we dock in America? Let us make the most of it while we can.” Placing a scarf around her neck, Y/n nods for Natasha to follow. “Follow my lead.”

Getting caught by crew members when passing between the class decks was what Y/n was prepared for when she first made the impulse decision to explore the ship. Running into the man she had a staring contest with earlier in the day was not something she had planned for.

“Hello,” she breathed out, hands clutching his biceps when he caught her before she could hit the ground after running straight into him without paying attention. He was even more beautiful up close. Hazel eyes boring into her with a small smile painting his lips. He must’ve recognized her too.

“Hello.”

“I think we lost them,” Natasha caught up to her, equally out of breath before freezing at the sight of the group of six men staring at them like deer in headlights. “Oh…”

“Ladies,” the blonde haired man, who Y/n caught looking at Natasha that afternoon tipped his messenger boy hat at them.

“S-sorry,” Y/n stuttered, flickering between the men but always coming back to the one holding her arms. Finally she broke away, embarrassed to have been seen in such a state. “I should have been watching where I was going—.”

“It’s alright,” he replied, voice as soft as his eyes. “No trouble at all, ma’am. Are you both okay?”

“We’re—.”

“There you are!” A shout captured all’s attention, Natasha and Y/n groaning before shooting apologetic frowns to them. “Stop them!”

“We have to go!” Nat grips onto Y/n’s forearm, pushing her to move. “Y/n, I’d like to make it back home and not be forced off this ship in Ireland!” Frantic sounds of approaching footsteps could be made out by the two crew members pursuing the women.

“We know a way,” the man she had yet to learn the name of suddenly said, holding his hand out. “C’mon.”

Maybe it wasn’t wise for two ladies to be following a group of strangers. But considering they’d be facing the wrath of their parents if caught they impulsively agreed, Y/n’s hand taking his. The blonde offered his to Natasha, the woman looking hesitant before accepting and the two led them away from the deck and towards a corridor. With the remaining of their group following from behind, it made it easier for the crew members to lose sight of them.

Music filled their ears, as did the chatter of a crowd the closer they got to wherever they were taking them. Y/n and Natasha shared a look, equally confused, concerned, and intrigued. When they turned the corner into a spiral stairwell, it revealed the source of the noise. Third-class passengers had gathered what appeared to be a celebration. Children and adults were dancing, drinking beer which had to have been smuggled in. A group of men were playing instruments while couples standing in corners displayed affection to one another.

A smile formed on Y/n’s lips. The energy was contagious, making her want to join in on the festivities. She’d almost forgotten what brought her there in the first place.

“They won’t come down here,” his voice brings Y/n out her thoughts, the young woman remembering she was still holding his hand. It felt warm in her own, bringing a heat to her veins that carried to her face.

“Are you sure?”

“They would’ve been here by now if they were that desperate to catch you two.” Pulling her further in, he and his friend let go of the women. “Apologies for being so forward—didn’t think you two would mind seeing you were in such a hurry.” A couple of the friends they were with already went off to mingle, leaving the four off to the side.

“We should be thanking you really,” Y/n replied, hand moving to run her arm nervously. “You’ve saved us from a load of trouble.”

“Looked like it,” the blonde removed a cigarette from his tin, lighting it with match. Offering one to them only Nat accepted, which would’ve been seen as scandalous to their peers above. “So…what brings a couple of first-class gals below deck?”

The two are instantly flustered, “H-how did you—.”

“Well, for starters there’s the fact we saw you ladies this morning on the first-class deck,” Green eyes drift over to Nat, causing her to blush. “And though you dressed the part to pass as someone like us, anyone could tell from the way you carry yourselves that you belong above.”

They didn’t know whether they should be impressed or offended.

“We wanted to explore the ship,” Y/n admits, arms going behind her back like a child caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. The man she was interested in raised a brow, “By dressing up like third-class passengers?”

Natasha made a sound, muttering, “I warned you this was a bad idea.”

“I realize that now, Natasha.”

“What are we supposed to do?” She groaned, “Wait it out till the sun rises? Or when we dock in Ireland when they’re easily distracted?”

“Do you want me to answer that with a plan or were those rhetorical questions to further prove you were right?” Y/n glanced around the place, aware of her friends' annoyed gaze compared to the men who looked amused. Huffing, Y/n faces them, “It’s come to my attention we have yet to know the names of our saviors. Mind telling us, and anything you could offer to help our situation.” Instantly the two straighten.

“Jake Seresin,” said the blonde.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” his hand extends to formally introduce himself. Y/n shakes it, mirroring the smile he gives her. “And about your situation, I’m afraid you can either attempt to sneak past the guards during shift change or like your friend mentioned, wait till we dock in Ireland.”

“That’ll be just before noon,” Natasha sounded like she didn’t like that option. “Your parents would notice you’re not in your room when it comes time for breakfast. We must return as quickly as possible.”

Bradley tilted his head, “Well if that’s the case then you better off with your chances sneaking past the crew, Miss…..” The trail off in his words made her realize she hadn’t given her name. But then again he may have heard when Natasha said it moments prior.

“Y/n L/n,” his reaction to her name was visible. As was Jake’s when she added, “and this is my friend, Natasha Trace.”

Both men shared a look. “L/n, huh? Like the name of that big building on 21st street?”

“That’s the one,” her lips tightened, ready for the judgment and assumptions about to be thrown at her.

Nat felt the same when Jake added, “And your daddy is the one competing with Rockefeller for king of the oil business. I remember reading something about it in the Times.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to use the term ‘king,’” she crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with her walls already in place. “And I wouldn’t trust all you read in the papers. My father has high respect for John—he taught him everything he knows.”

Jake raised his hands in defense, “I mean no offense, ma’am. How about you tell me more over a drink?” The look of surprise had the man grinning, Y/n having to bite back a giggle to not embarrass her friend. She gave Natasha an encouraging nod that read, ‘he’s on the make with you!’

“While you two are chatting,” Bradley suddenly cut in, a determined look in his eyes as they set on Y/n. “Would you like to dance?”

“O-oh,” she began to stutter, now in Natasha’s shoes considering she had yet to accept Jake’s offer of a drink. They both were hesitant to agree to the offers. “Uh—shouldn’t we be looking to see when the night guards change shifts?”

“That’ll be towards dawn,” he assured, “plenty of time for you to return to your room before your parents wake.” At her still unsure gaze, Bradley’s voice turned softer, “just one dance. S’all I ask.”

Meeting Natasha’s eyes, who simply nodded in silent exchange, Y/n raised her hand and let it fall into Bradley’s grasp. “One dance, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Did you really only dance with him for one song, Grandma?” The twelve year old girl, Amelia, was flabbergasted when her grandmother ended the story with, “and we lived happily ever after.” She yearned to hear more.

“That was the plan,” Y/n booped her nose, “but your Papa was a charmer back in the day—still is I should say. One dance became two, and then three. Before we knew it the sun was rising, Natasha and I were in a hurry to return to the first-class deck. Thankfully we made it before anyone could spot us,” lips curl up, a fond memory surfacing in her head, “though to this day I believe my brother knew what we did.”

“How?” Rebecca asked, earning a look from her mother.

Y/n chuckled lightly before responding, “He had that look in his eye that he knew something I didn’t. I never got the chance to ask him if he did,” a sad sigh leaves her, but she quickly masks it to not concern the girls, “but my brother and I had an unspoken connection when we were growing up. Able to know what the other was thinking or trying to imply with little to no words at all.”

“What happened after?” Amelia sat up straight, eyes full of hope. A hopeless romantic, even at a young age, she loved hearing the tales of how people found love. Fairytales were her favorite, where the princess meets the handsome prince and they live happily ever after.

The clock was pushing 9:30, well past the time she and her sister were supposed to be asleep. Amelia believed her mother would’ve stepped in earlier to cut the story short.

And it looked like she was about to do it just then. Standing from the armchair, Cynthia stopped her mother before she could answer, knowing the story was about to take a different turn if it went any further. “I think that’s a story for another day,” her tone was apologetic, but Y/n’s gaze assured her she was right to interrupt. The story would end on a happy note for the girls.

“But—,”

“You mother is right, sweetheart,” Y/n lightly pushed against Amelia’s shoulders to get her to lay down, bringing the sheet back up. Disappointment filled her granddaughter’s expressions, Y/n offering a small smile, “One day, I will tell you both more of my time on Titanic—and how your Papa and I fell in love in those short days sailing the Atlantic. But for now,” she goes to press a kiss to their foreheads, “sleep. We will have breakfast in the morning—I’ll even make French toast for you two.”

Though the girls wanted to hear more, the exhaustion soon took over, both releasing a yawn. Amelia drifted off, picturing Titanic and all its beauty from how Y/n described it, making a mental note to ask to see a picture one day.

Cynthia kissed her daughters goodnight as Y/n blew out the candle, the two exiting the room with Cynthia closing it behind her, leaving it slightly ajar. Approaching the kitchen, Cynthia debated on asking the question on her mind, growing bigger with each second. Everett, her husband of 15 years, had already gone to bed in the guest room they’d been staying the past weekend, leaving her father as the only person other than them still awake.

Y/n was handed her nightly cup of tea from Bradley, the man leaning to kiss her cheek. Sipping the hot contents, she released a sound of content, his arm going around her while he sipped his own. Leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, Cynthia admires the scene in front of her. The look of love in her father’s eyes while he gazed down at Y/n, his own wrinkles adorning his face. Both grayed haired with skin beginning to frail as they approached their 70s.

Cynthia pictured them at 21. Young and carefree with dreams and aspirations. Her mother, a timeless beauty and her father, the handsome charmer. Boarding Titanic to return home after being gone so long, unaware they’d meet their soulmate and experience an event regarded as the deadliest peacetime disasters in history.

They were one of the lucky ones. Surviving when so many were lost, yet they had their fair share of perished loved ones. Cynthia saw it anytime Y/n mentioned her father and brother. Saw it when her father discussed the days he spent with his best friends.

“Little ones finally in bed?” Bradley’s voice removed her from her thoughts, Cynthia nodded when she realized he was asking her.

“Yeah,” she rubbed her arms, “they insisted on hearing a story from grandma.”

“Oh really?” he looked intrigued, peering down at his wife, “which one this time?”

Y/n tightened her mouth slightly, “About how we met.” Instantly his expression changed, but it wasn’t like in the early years where Bradley would shut down at the mere mention of Titanic. Instead a hint of a smile found his lips, knowing it was his granddaughter’s wanting to know how they fell in love.

“Oh,” he hums, shuffling his feet a bit and tightening the hold on Y/n. “What all did you tell them?”

“Up to the morning of the eleventh.” A laugh leaves him, making Cynthia mentally sigh in relief.

“What a night that was,” the memory of him and Jake ushering Y/n and Natasha through the secret pathways they’d found that led straight to first-class replayed in his mind. Peering behind the corridor at the night crew relieving themselves from post, giving only three minutes for the women to cross into the deck without notice. Bradley catching Y/n’s hand before she could leave, “May I see you again, Y/n? If not tonight but the next?” The eye contact between them was intense, desire and what could only be described as the beginning stages of love swarming.

Y/n promised to return, noticing Natasha was promising the same to Jake and handed Bradley the handkerchief she had on her. A kiss to her hand and Bradley watched her go, dragging Natasha away until they disappeared out of sight, leaving the men to avoid being seen as they headed back to the third-class compartments.

“One to remember,” Y/n echoes, leaning more into him. The image of her and Natasha giggling when they made it to her suite flashed in her mind. “I cannot believe that just happened! Oh, Natasha, do you feel what I am feeling? It’s like walking on a cloud!”

“Mom, dad?” Cynthia suddenly spoke, nervous she was about to make them upset by asking the jarring question nagging her brain. When their heads turned the words flew before she could stop them, “Could…could you tell me again about that night?”

Sunday April 14, 1912 started out like any other aboard Titanic. Y/n rose early to accompany her family at breakfast before meeting with Natasha for lunch. Throughout the day they’d reside close to the railing of the first-class deck to oversee the third-class one where Bradley and Jake would wait for them. Subtle looks and waves would be exchanged, the men subjected to howls and whistles from their friends.

In the days leading up she felt like she was living in one of her fairytale novels. The night of the 11th she and Natasha were formally introduced to Mickey, Reuben, Javy, and Bob when they snuck back during the shift change between day and night crew. Y/n enjoyed being with the group. They were funny and outgoing, very different from the men she was usually surrounded by.

Together they’d drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes, dance to the music passengers played and tell tales of their upbringing. Y/n learned Bradley and his friends were all aspiring aviators with backgrounds as mechanics and had grown up in the same neighborhood. He was originally from Virginia and lived in New Jersey with his Godfather after losing his parents to illness when he was sixteen and had no siblings.

Y/n told him about her family, explaining how they were once working class citizens until her father had a leading hand in constructing The National Association of Realtors. Bradley appeared impressed when she told him, finding admiration in those who worked hard for their wealth and not had handed to them on a silver platter. She explained her studies at NYU, dreams of being a writer—a novelist to be more specific, and hobbies of hers such as horseback riding, reading, and writing.

“What type of novels do you wish to write?” Bradley popped some chocolate into his mouth, offering a piece to her which she gladly accepted.

“Thrillers would be interesting to do,” she walked with him along the deck, the sound of the water hitting the ship loud against her ears. Jake had dragged Natasha off God knows where. The others were likely enjoying the company of their new Irish friends they made who boarded during the stop in Queenstown. “A good mystery could be fun. Also who does not like a happily ever after when it comes to love stories?”

“Think this journey may inspire one of the sort?” Bradley’s voice took a different turn, Y/n glancing to see he was already staring at her, a look she could only describe as adoration. It made heat rise in her, butterflies pooling that were threatening to burst from her stomach.

‘Is this what they mean when you’ve fallen in love at first sight?’

Feeling confident, returning the same gaze as Bradley, Y/n replies, “It is too early to say, but if what I feel happening is the same for you…. I find it very well could be.”

That night ended with their first kiss. Shared before the sun rose and Y/n made her leave to her room. Though she was scolded by her mother for missing breakfast due to sleeping in longer than she should have, Y/n didn’t care. The tingling sensation from where Bradley’s lips met hers remained all day, making the young woman yearn for more. A light feeling in her chest as though she was walking on a cloud. It grew stronger with each time she was with Bradley.

Hours were spent together once the night sky took over. Y/n departing for bed right after supper to get a few hours of sleep. When she awoke Natasha was knocking at her door and the two would sneak off—careful not to draw attention to themselves. The night of the 12th Bradley and Y/n crept into the area where the motor vehicles were stored. It was like a candy store for the man, who worked on cars for a living.

They’d play pretend with Bradley acting like Y/n’s driver. “My lady,” he’d say while helping her into the unlocked vehicle. “Why thank you,” her giggle made his heart skip, wishing to hear more of it. Y/n would lean over the seat between them while he leaned back, the two sharing kisses between laughs.

Two young adults living in their own little world. Slowly falling in love as the day turned into night. Each time Y/n left there would be a gaping hole in her heart. Drifting off to sleep with Bradley’s face as the last thing she saw. When the cycle continued on the 13th, all Y/n could think about was coming clean to her family. She could no longer deny there was love between her and Bradley. Despite only knowing each other for three days, Y/n saw his love for her each time they locked eyes. Every little touch had her wanting more. The words he spoke to her were like a poem, her hand itching to write them down so they stayed with her forever.

She wasn’t worried about them judging Bradley for his status. They were once in his position not even a decade ago. Discriminating him for being lower-class would make them hypocrites and just like their peers they criticize on the daily.

Y/n knew her parents wanted her to be happy. Regardless of who or where the person came from, as long as they loved and respected her then Y/n’s parents would accept them. Her happiness was their priority. It was why they constantly turned down marriage arrangements from her father’s colleagues. And when looking at all the qualities Y/n desired in a life-long partner, Bradley possessed all of them.

“Are you going to tell them?” Natasha raised her teacup to her lips, eyes unconscious flickering over the railing to find Jake. They were seated at a table, discussing the feelings rising between them and the men who’ve caught their eyes. Raising her own, Y/n followed her movements and saw Bradley kicking what appeared to be a ball with his friends and some children.

“I don’t know honestly,” she sighed, placing the teacup back on its saucer. Tiny sunglasses framed her face, protecting her eyes from the sun directly in front of her. “Do you plan on telling your family about Jake?” Now it was Natasha's turn to sigh.

“I guess I share the same fears as you. While I believe my father would approve of Jake, I’m scared he will worry too much about his public image. Of my parents, he’s the one with the most hopeful I say yes to Alan’s proposal.”

“Your mother doesn’t want you to marry Alan?”

“She doesn’t want for me to end up like her. Though she grew to love my father eventually, their marriage stemmed from their parents pressuring them,” Natasha’s gaze wandered back over to Jake. “It wasn’t until they had my siblings and I that she felt the love a wife is supposed to have from her husband—and that was because of us. Truth is, Y/n, I don’t think I see myself falling in love with Alan even if we have children.”

“Then be honest with yourself and your parents, Natasha,” Y/n finally said, declining when a server approached with more tea.

Her friend gives a look of challenge, “only if you do the same.”

“I will,” Y/n spoke confidently, before making a face of unease, adding, “when we arrive in New York.”

“And have you discussed this with him yet?” Natasha didn’t have to say Bradley’s name for her to know he was who she was referring to.

“No, but I will bring it up when I see him tonight. We’ve only a few more days till we’re stateside, that gives me time to prepare.”

Y/n was late to meet Bradley that evening due to Richard visiting her unannounced. “Apologies for the interruption this late, Y/n. But do you have a moment?” It took her by surprise, casting a worried glance to Natasha who mirrored it.

“Um, of course. Nat, I’m going to step out for a minute. I’ll be right by the door,” a nod from her friend and Y/n stepped into the corridor, closing the door so it was slightly ajar. “Yes, Richard?”

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior on Wednesday,” the words shocked her, Y/n visibly reacting to them as though she was in disbelief he was actually saying them. “I mean no offense to you and feel as though I was misunderstood in what I was trying to say.” It took every nerve of her to not roll her eyes. Of course he was trying to pass it off as her not understanding him. He was only a few words shy of calling her over dramatic. “If you allow me, I’d like for you to reconsider my proposal of courtship.”

Y/n stated the obvious, “You never offered a proposal, Richard. I took my departure before any proposal could be made.” Naturally he didn’t expect her to point out his flaw, thinking he could get away with gaslighting her into believing she rejected him when in fact there was no rejection at all.

Quickly Richard attempted to improvise, “Well, then allow me to make one now,” he removed his hat, placing it over his chest in a slight bow, “Would you do me the honor of courting you in hopes a beautiful, highly respected marriage may blossom out of?”

Now she was put on the spot, heart increasing well over the average beats per minute. No doubt Natasha was listening in, equally as anxious to hear what Y/n would say. Mentally cursing, Y/n fumbled over her words, “I-I…I must discuss this with my father in the morning. Surely you understand, Richard,” of course she wanted to say no, but without her father with her Y/n feared the outcome. Even with Natasha behind the door, there was no saying Richard could react negatively to rejection. “I cannot give you an answer just yet. B-but you shall have one by tomorrow evening.”

Though Richard obviously didn’t like her answer, he did a job of concealing it, “Of course. It was foolish of me to come so late in the evening—and to assume you’d agree without consultation. Please, take all the time and I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/n.” Once he was gone, Y/n leaned against her door and released a breath she had been holding, Natasha bolting from her chair with a, “What the hell was that?!”

After explaining in depth the details Natasha couldn’t hear and a much needed vent to cool off, the two finally made their way to the third-class deck just after midnight. They found Jake and Bradley in the meeting spot they’d established, sharing a cigar and asking what took them so long. The nervousness in Y/n’s demeanor worried Bradley, who gently pulled her away to give them privacy, “What’s wrong?” The one question had Y/n spilling everything off her chest. From Richard and his stupid proposal to her wanting Bradley to meet her parents.

“I’m very overwhelmed and don’t know what to do,” she cried, eyes lining with unshed tears threatening to spill. “The man is already acting as though I’ve said yes and there’s no way in hell I am going to end up in a loveless marriage for my entire life—not when you’ve taken claim to my heart, though it seems foolish to think you could fall in love with someone in just three days a-and I worry my family is going to say absurd things about your status when it shouldn’t define you because you, Bradley, are the most perfect man I’ve ever met and I love you—.” Her last words are cut off when Bradley’s lips meet her. Large hands cupping her cheeks, the scuff on his face burning her chin as the kiss turns more passionate. Y/n’s hands fly to his hair, soft curls against her fingertips and the woman letting out a light moan when Bradley slips his tongue into her mouth in what people would call French kissing.

Pressing her chest further into his, Y/n feels his arms fall to her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground all while continuing to keep his lips on hers. The wind brushes through her hair, cool air sending chills along her otherwise flaring skin.

“I love you,” he finally whispers against her lips, saying it once more before retraining them to hers. Nothing is said for the remainder of the night, the two finding claim to a storage room where they make love until dawn. The only sound exchanged are hot pants of breath and sighs, Y/n’s nails digging into Bradley’s back while his arms cradle her like she was made of glass. He brings her to a climax so many times she loses count. Moans grew louder to the point she feared someone would walk by and hear them. Bradley swallowed each with a kiss, holding her hand and becoming lost within her. If cloud nine was what she felt when with Bradley, then at that moment she was experiencing euphoria. Feeling the reminisce of him lingering inside her well after they were done.

Basking in the afterglow, Y/n laid her head on Bradley’s chest and felt his fingers trail along her back, making her release a sound of bliss, “Where are you going when we dock?”

It takes a second for him to answer, sleep threatening to consume the man, “Back to New Jersey with the guys—see my Godfather and probably go back to working in his shop. What about you?”

“My studies end in late May so I will return to school for the time being,” she replied, lifting her head slightly to see into his eyes. They were the same as hers. Content, blissed, overwhelmed with happiness. “After that….I do not know. My father I think wishes for me to assist him and my brother with the business. But I’d like to travel—see different places on my own.”

“You know,” Bradley hums, a smirk forming on his mouth, “New Jersey is only a short drive from New York—actually it’s across the harbor, the ferry will get you there quicker.” Y/n’s own lips curled up.

“Are you implying I come visit you in New Jersey, Mr. Bradshaw?”

“Only a mere suggestion Miss. L/n,” he defended, cheekiness in his tone. He then becomes serious, hand cupping the side of her face, “I don’t plan on letting you go after this. My heart won’t allow it. It won’t go on without you.”

It was probably the most romantic thing Y/n had ever heard. Better than any writing on paper and forever engraved into her mind. “I don’t think mine will either.”

All throughout the 14th, Y/n was in a constant inner battle with herself. Wondering how to approach the topic of Bradley to her parents and declining Richard’s proposal. Once they learn she’s no longer a maiden Y/n worried about what their reaction would be. If her father would make Bradley marry her right then and there—not that she would mind honestly but she didn’t know if Bradley wanted the same.

“What is wrong today, my dear,” Y/n flinched from the sudden intrusion. Coming up beside her was her father, placing a hand on the railing in her typical spot on the deck. Natasha had stepped away to find a powder room, leaving Y/n to herself until her father appeared. “You appear to be in distress. I find it difficult you can be in such a state when you’ve got a view like this,” he gestures with his hand to the scene in front of them. Nothing but the beautiful ocean and clear skies, the scene straight from a painting.

“I am only deep in my thoughts, father,” Y/n fidgeted with the material on her dress sleeves, looking away when she saw Bradley as the memory of that morning flashed in her mind. “Thinking about my studies and what to do after.” She heard her father make a ‘humph’ sound.

“Nothing to do with your little admirer then?”

Instantly her stomach fell, heat flaring within her, eyes wide like saucer. Snapping her head to her father, she found his gaze forward and when she followed it, Bradley stood in her vision. Dread consumed her, quickly trying to play it off, “I-I…I don’t know what you mean.” A chuckle fills her ears.

“Darling, I may be getting old but I still have eyes and ears,” a hand rests on her shoulder, pulling her closer. “Do you not think I’ve noticed a shift in you these last few days? Ever since Wednesday’s luncheon you’ve spent every moment of your time on the deck. The knowing glances between you and Natasha—how you two come to this spot every day and spend hours watching those fellas over there,” he lifts his finger to point in their general direction. Crinkles appear beside his eyes when his lips curl, “Not to mention I checked your room the other night to find it vacant. Then when I went to have my late night cigar, I saw you in the distance creeping out of the stairwell with Natasha—but you weren’t alone. Those fellas were with you..” his voice becomes softer while Y/n’s heart picks up pace. “And I know the face of someone smitten. And that one over there—,” he points directly at Bradley, who stood frozen when he looked up to find them staring at them. “He’s smitten with you, my dear girl. Trust me, I know, it’s how I look at your mother.”

While she felt a sudden rush of calmness from her father’s implied approval, the linger of worry still remained. “Are you upset with me, dad?”

“What for, Y/n?”

“Because…” She struggles to find the words and lets out a sound of frustration. “Ugh—I know you are not one to invest your time in gossip but I still cannot help but worry. About how people will view you and all the work you did to give us this life—with these high expectations of who I’ll marry and for me to—.”

He stops her before she could finish, “do you love him?” She’s taken aback by the question, stuttering at his bluntness.

“It—it’s only been four days—.”

“I knew I loved your mother within two,” he tells her, still smiling to help put her at ease. “But let’s not make it a competition. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you love him, Y/n.”

“I do,” she falls to a whisper, finally answering when she locks eyes with Bradley. She could tell he was worried for her, slight strain in his face as though he was trying to decipher what the two were discussing. Offering a small smile in hopes to show it was all okay, Y/n says, “I think I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him he’d be someone important to me. But then talking to him every night since we departed England has only confirmed what I already know. My heart belongs to him.”

With the seal of approval from her father, Y/n spent the rest of the day avoiding Richard—even hiding when she caught him and his father walking the deck in a hurry, as though they were searching for something. More like someone.

She and Natasha had supper in Natasha’s suite, gushing over their newfound happiness with their lovers. Y/n wrote in her diary every single detail so as to not forget it when she got older, capturing the memories in writing. While braiding Natasha’s hair the two discussed the brunette's plans for when they docked. “I’m going to come clean to my parents,” Natasha declared, trying not to move while Y/n finished with the first of two braids. “Tell Alan I cannot marry him and let him know I’m spoken for. He’ll understand…I hope. And for my father he will learn to accept it if he has any objections.”

“I’m happy for you, Nat,” Y/n smiled at her through the mirror. “Truly I am. You deserve to be happy—and Jake is smitten with you.”

“As is Bradley with you,” Natasha smirked, causing her friend to look away shyly. “Oh don’t be shy about it now! I know what took place this morning.” At Y/n’s horrified expression, Natasha laughed, “You were way more tired than usual when we returned to our room. And I couldn’t help but notice a slight struggle when you walked.”

“Good heavens, Natasha!” Y/n let go of the hair to cover her face with her hands, cheeks hot from embarrassment.

“Was it nice?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” eyebrows wiggled at her, Natasha giggling as Y/n playfully tagged at the braid before moving to the next one. Moving on from the subject the two finished getting ready until it was the typical time for them to leave, silently thanking whoever above that Richard did not find her. She’d have to confront him eventually. It was that or pray she could avoid him the remainder of the journey—which was only a couple more days.

Bradley lifted her in the arm when she met him, capturing her lips in a kiss before placing tiny ones over her face. It made her giggle, his scruff tickling with each kiss. “Everything okay today?” was the first thing he asked, “I saw you and who I assume to be your father this afternoon. Looked to be a serious conversation.”

“He’s aware of our endeavors,” she spoke truthfully, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the inevitable. At his anxious eyes she was quick to explain, “He knows I’ve been sneaking at night to see you—he caught me returning to my room. He doesn’t know about this morning….” She watched him bite back a smile, her own forming as the memory resurfaced. “But from our conversation, my father has no objections about us. He wishes to meet you once we dock.”

“He does?” His tone was surprised, Y/n nodding to show she was serious.

“Yes. I told him about your work and he was impressed. Is….is that okay with you?” Her voice goes low, fearful of his answer. A hand cupped her face, holding her gaze to his and Y/n felt her heart nearly stop at the love in his eyes.

“I would be honored to meet your father, Y/n. It disappoints me we have to wait, but I would wait longer if it means I get to receive his blessing.” Before she could say anything else he kissed her, thumb brushing over her cheek making Y/n sigh with bliss. There was no way she could let go of Bradley after they arrived in America. Even if her father had disapproved of them she’d find a way to see him.

Chills run along her body causing Y/n to shudder, the air suddenly dropping in temperature. The reaction has Bradley pull away, “Are you getting cold?”

“A little,” she mentally cursed herself for deciding on a dress instead of trousers and a coat. It was one of her old ones from when she was fifteen. It was ivory colored and a little worn out from wearing it so often as it had been Y/n’s favorite until she got the privilege of purchasing high quality clothing. Though a little tight on her figure it still fit rather good on her.

Removing his jacket, Bradley pulled it around her shoulders before fixing her hair and ignored her protests. It was freezing outside, their breath visible. Surely Bradley would freeze to death as his long shirt would do nothing to combat the cold.

“There you go, doll.” Her reaction to the nickname had him grin, “That should warm you up. Though I could think of another—.”

“Shall I remind you, Mr. Bradshaw, you’re in the presence of a lady and you should refrain from insinuating such scandalous remarks.” Biting his lip, Bradley leans down to hoarsely whisper, grinning at the gasp she releases when she feels his breath hit her ear.

“I don’t recall you reminding me this morning…”

The heat Y/n felt rivaled a fire in a chimney. Consuming her with every inch of her being, she could do nothing but grin while Bradley hid his face in her neck, peppering kisses throughout.

For the next hour they laid on one of the benches, talking of what their lives would be together as the stars danced above them. Y/n pointing out constellations from time to time, making a point to identify Sirius, the brightest star of all. They laughed. They kissed. They dreamed of the future. What their house would look like, “At least two stories. With a big backyard and a dining table to fit ten people.” How many kids they’d have, “Two would be nice, but I wouldn’t mind three. A little mini you and me running around.” If they’ll have animals, “a dog of course. Ooh—a chicken to have fresh eggs for breakfast and possibly a couple of goats.”

It was perfect. Complete and utter bliss.

But that disappeared in the blink of an eye. Right as the clock struck 11:40 pm.

“What’s happening?” Y/n lifted off of Bradley’s chest, sitting up straight by the sound of people shouting on the decks above. Following her suit, Bradley made a motion to stand when he caught sight of Jake and Natasha running toward them.

“What is it?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Jake was out of breath, face red with worry. “But I think I heard someone yell about an iceberg—.” An ugly sound rocketed before Jake could finish his sentence. Jolting movement on the ship deck had them all stumble, Y/n clutching onto Bradley’s side as his arm met her waist. Moments later an intimidatingly large iceberg appeared in their view. Slowly moving as the ship literally whined with effort to avoid collision. But it was to no avail as more striking sounds of ice hitting metal echoed in the night. Pieces fell onto the deck, the four moving slightly aback.

Moments later the ship's engines stopped. Dazed and confused by what they witnessed. Titanic had hit an iceberg. A large one at that. The sound alone was an indicator of how bad the collision was. Stressed shouts of crew members only further confirmed it.

They were left to wonder what would happen next. Were they waiting for the crew to assess the damage before restarting the engines? Would they even be able to? Were they already sending signals to other ships about their collision?

Leaning over the railing, Y/n found the reflection of Titanic’s lights staring back at her. The water was eerily calm, no doubt below freezing. Several other icebergs could be made out in the distance surrounding the ship if she squinted her eyes. With no moon in the sky it made it difficult to see.

Y/n anxiety increased when the thought crossed her mind, ‘Are we going to sink?’ She removed the thought as it appeared. No. There’s no way the Titanic would sink. She was deemed unsinkable by everyone involved in the making of her. She was designed to remain afloat even if four water compartments were flooded.

‘It’ll be alright,’ Y/n thought silently, trying to convince herself more than anything.

But that didn’t last long when Bradley and Jake’s friends rushed over not even twenty minutes later, their nightwear drenched in water and fear coating their eyes. “It’s flooding down there,” Mickey huffed, “all over the floors.” Passengers filled the deck, families huddled together as they awaited information. Mickey’s news sent dread to the young women. Flooding was never a good sign.

Something in Y/n’s gut was telling her to find her family. “I-I need to go,” she glanced at Natasha first and then Bradley, “I should find my father. T-they may know more on the upper deck a-and are not telling us how serious it is down here.” Bradley looked hesitant to let her go, Y/n’s voice turning softer, “I’ll come back. I promise I will—a-and I’ll find out what’s happening.”

“I’ll go with you,” Nat removed herself from Jake, the man wearing the same face as Bradley. “We should go now while the crew are distracted.” Without consulting further, Y/n picked up the skirt of her dress and hurried away with Natasha trailing behind. They made it past each deck, racing up the grand staircase to the level Y/n’s parents were to find them in evident distress. Several other members of their circle were also there.

One look at her father and Y/n’s heart dropped to her stomach. “Dad…” it took everything to remain calm, realizing her hands started to shake when he took them in hers. “What’s happening?” He didn’t want to admit the truth she already knew, but as she squeezed his hands the words left him, confirming the worst.

“Titanic’s taking on water,” the choked gasp was audible no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Her father squeezed her hand, “They’re preparing the lifeboats—you two should go gather some belongings to take with you.” At the mention of lifeboats Y/n mentally thought back to the ones she’d seen lining the ship deck. Counting, her heart further shrieked at the number she summed.

“There's only twenty,” she whispered, horror on her face. “T-there’s got to be three thousand people on this ship. Wha-what—how are they going to save everyone?!” Her voice grew louder with each word. Suddenly she went quiet, the realization hitting her. Behind her Natasha gasped, also realizing the obvious.

All the lifeboats were on the boat deck. Right above the first-class one.

“O-oh my God. They’re not going to be able to save everyone.”

“Y/n—,” her hands slipped from his grasp, “Y/n!!” She was running, skirts dragging along her ankles as she hurried down the path she’d just come from. Urgent footsteps behind her signaled Natasha following, the two women bumping into people without apologizing. Tears lined her eyes the entire way, wishing it was all a horrible nightmare she was going to awake from at any moment.

When she finally found Bradley she collided with him, oblivious to the fact his trousers were soaked in water. Too frantic she made no mind to ask where it came from. “We’re sinking,” she cried against his chest. Even in his arms it did nothing to ease her fear. “The ship’s sinking.”

“Wh-at? No, that’s not possible.”

“She’s unsinkable!”

“It must be a mistake—I’m sure they are working it out as we speak.”

It was utter chaos from then on out. Minutes passed where slowly the passengers would realize the extent of the situation. Cries of children and babies were heard, their parents attempting to calm them despite their own emotions surfacing. Y/n rushed to her suite with Bradley, the man unable to contain his awe at how luxurious the first-class compartments were. He stood like a fish out of water as she flung open her small makeup bag to place her diary, ticket, the few photos she had, and whatever small compatible items Y/n thought were valuable. Clothing and anything else could be replaced.

The door flying open caused her to shriek, Bradley stepping back when Y/n’s father appeared in the doorway. He let out an audible sigh of relief when his eyes landed on her, “Where have you been?” He stepped further into the room, Y/n’s mother and brother trailing behind. All froze at the sight of Bradley standing with her, her father being the only one to recognize him.

“Who’s this?” Said her mother, not shying from looking Bradley up and down. It made him blush, glancing at Y/n for help. But she was also at a loss for words.

“This is the boy I was telling you about. Now as much as I wish we were meeting in any other circumstance,” her father strolled up, closing the bag for Y/n and pulling into his hands while using his free hand to gently push her toward the door, “We need to get to the boat deck this instant.” As they were coming out they met Natasha and Jake, Bradley asking his friend where the others were.

“I don’t know,” Jake stressfully removed his messenger boy hat to run a hand through his hair, “Mickey went to find that girl he’d been shacking up with and Javy I-I thought was behind me.” Bradley gulps, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“We’ll find them,” he firmly states. “We’ll find them all.”

When they reached the boat deck they were faced with the grim reality. Less than two dozen lifeboats would not be enough to get Titanic’s 2,500 passengers to safety. She was going to take many down with her. Time was their emissary. Slowly ticking away by the second.

Coming to the end of the first hour since impact, Bradley brings Y/n’s attention to him when he sees they were only allowing women and children into the boats. Crew members were telling passengers it was only minor damage and they were only putting them in the boats for precaution. Sparks from flares shot into the sky, with hope neighboring ships would notice.

Bradley stared deeply into the eyes he loved, “Marry me.” The question stops the world around them, Y/n’s eyes becoming wide as saucers.

“W-what?”

“Marry me, Y/n,” his tone is serious. “Right now on this ship. Under the stars you love while in front of your family and our friends—i-if tonight…” he trails off, voice becoming shaky. It brings tears to Y/n’s eyes at what he was trying to say. “If tonight is my last night I don’t want to waste another second.” The reason he said ‘my’ instead of ‘our’ last night was knowing deep in his heart Y/n would likely survive instead of him. She would get on a boat and hopefully be rescued.

“Yes,” she whispered, no sign of hesitation in the answer. All the love she felt emitting with one word.

And so the unthinkable happened not a mere ten minutes later. Y/n standing in front of Bradley, hands entwined as the ship’s Chaplin read off vows they repeated. Y/n’s family had tears in their eyes, as did Natasha, Jake, and their friends—who managed to find them at the right moment. Other passengers stopped and stared, some looking on with unreadable expressions, mostly women who found the sight bittersweet. It was almost fitting considering Y/n was wearing a near-white dress.

When asked about exchanging rings Y/n went to say, “no rings,” but Bradley stopped her.

“I have this actually,” his hand goes to his trouser pocket, “It’s not a ring but I think it’ll do.” Removing what could only be described as the most beautiful necklace Y/n had laid eyes on, her mouth parted in disbelief. Diamonds lined the chain, coming down to surround a large blue heart-shaped gem. “It’s a diamond,” Bradley said softly, making Y/n’s eyes widen even more. Wondering how he acquired such a magnificent piece of jewelry that looked like it was worth more than anything she owned.

He must’ve read her mind because Bradley was quick to explain, “My father gave this to my mother when he proposed to her. He got it from his mother, who received it from his father on their wedding day. He never told me how our family came into possession of it, but I once heard him refer to it as the ‘Heart of the Ocean’.” How fitting when they were in the middle of the ocean, and Y/n had become the owner of his heart. “It’s been passed down from Bradshaw to Bradshaw as a gift from a husband to wife. My mother made sure to give it to me before she died,” bringing the necklace around her neck while still facing her, Bradley secured it into place, adjusting it so the heart laid on her chest. Above her own beating heart. “And now it’s yours.”

Hand coming up to her chest, Y/n felt the smooth cut edges of the diamond, tears falling from her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she croaked, sniffing from the overwhelming emotion. “Thank you. I’ll protect it with my life. H-how did you—.”

“Before you came back to find me I made sure to grab it from my room.” So that’s why his pants were soaked. He went to get the necklace before the compartment flooded.

“I-I,” she stuttered, glancing behind to peer at her father. “I don’t have anything—.”

“Worry not, my dear girl,” the watch he always wore unclipped from his wrist. It was his favorite one, the only item he splurged on before they became wealthy. And now he was given it to Y/n’s husband.

“I can’t take this,” Bradley goes to object, but her father silences him. Y/n kisses the older man’s cheek, whispering “thank you,” as she takes the watch before placing it onto Bradley’s wrist.

“By the power invested in me,” the two hold hands once more, letting the tears fall freely. “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Chaplin turns to Bradley, “You may kiss your bride.”

Warm hands cup Y/n’s cheek, lips meeting in the middle to seal the act. No longer was she kissing the handsome stranger who caught her eye aboard the ship of dreams. She was kissing her husband. The man she was to grow old with. To explore the world. Raise children together.

Their fairytale was only beginning. But tragedy was on the horizon. Ending the journey before it could start.

Their friends clapped and cheered, her mother cried. Passengers and crew members witnessing offered nods of congratulations. Before long the happy moment was gone and replaced with the dread once more at the reality facing them. At first Y/n thought Jake and Natasha would marry next, spotting a ring on her friend’s left hand.

“It’s his class ring,” Natasha softly said, admiring the jewelry with glistening eyes. “I told him I’ll marry him once we reach land.” Taking her hand, Y/n squeezes and offers a small, encouraging smile, “We’ll make it the wedding of your dreams.”

The hour reached a half after one, almost two whole since the iceberg struck Titanic. They all gathered to the edge of the boat deck, Y/n’s father ordering her, her mother, and Natasha to put one on. As they did they could hear the crew member shout the same thing he’d been shouting the last hour and half. “Women and children! I need women and children!”

It was then Y/n realized why her father and Bradley were slowly moving them closer. “No,” she whispered, turning fully around. Over Bradleys shoulder she spotted her father speaking to her mother. Behind her children were crying out for their daddies. “I’m not going without you.” His hands met her shoulders. “Don’t ask me to get in that boat, Bradley.”

“You have to.”

“No.”

He squeezed her jacket clad shoulders, “Y/n, please do this for me. Get in the boat with your mother and Natasha. You guys will be safer there.”

“And leave you here!” She shouted, not caring who heard. Here was her newly wedded husband saying goodbye. “You married me not even ten minutes ago—a-and you’re already telling me to leave!?”

“As your husband I’m ensuring you make it off this ship safely! That is my priority—that you’re safe!” His own voice raises, hand going to Y/n’s jaw to force her to look at him when she fights his hold. Bradley was doing his best to keep calm for her sake, not wanting her last image of him to be where he’s scared out of his mind. Though the crew made efforts to conceal the truth, Bradley wasn’t blind. The water was rising closer to the deck, submerging the lower floors past the point of fixing.

Titanic was sinking.

“Don’t ask me to leave you,” Y/n closed her eyes, lip trembling to hold back the sob threatening to escape. “My heart won’t go on without you, Bradley.” It wouldn’t allow her to. Bradley was the keeper of her entire soul. Losing him would destroy her.

“Look at me,” his thumb caressed her cheek, running over her bottom lip to wipe the stray tear. When her eyes opened, Bradley brought her into a kiss. “I’ll find you,” he said pulling away, “Get it in that boat and I promise I will find you when this is all over. I won’t stop till I do.”

“N-no—.”

“I promise you, baby,” he says again, tightening the hold on her. “I will see you again.”

A choked sob left Y/n, pressing her lips to his desperately, the taste of salt hitting her tongue from the tears mixing in. “O-okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, offering a watery smile. “Hey, I’m the luckiest bastard in the world. You’ve made me so.” They kiss once more, Y/n being passed to her father. She leaps into his arms, shaking against him when he tells her he’ll always love her and to take care of her mother.

“Thank you, daddy,” she cries, nuzzling her face into his chest and not wanting to let go. She didn’t have to explain because he already knew the meaning behind her words. ‘Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for always believing in me. Thank you for letting me open my heart to him and giving your blessing. Thank you for loving me.’

“I love you, my dear girl,” his lips meet the crown of her head. “I’ll see you soon.”

After hugging goodbye to her brother, who was refused by crew to board with them since he was seventeen and viewed as a young man rather than a child, Y/n followed behind Natasha and her mother onto the lifeboat. A crew member assisted, taking her hand, “watch your step, madam,” Y/n’s heart raced with each step, falling to the seat on the edge of the aisle, closest to where Bradley stood.

“I love you!” He shouted to her, going as far to lean over the railing of the ship, Y/n rising enough from her seat to offer one last kiss. It was brief, but she poured all her emotion behind it. A shout from the man in charge of the lifeboat yelled for her to sit and Y/n unwillingly listened. All the way down Y/n kept her eyes on Bradley, briefly meeting those of her father and brother. Jake was next to her husband, no doubt watching Natasha seated next to her.

Even when they landed on the water Y/n could not relax. As the crewmen paddled them away, the sight of Titanic was more frightening than she imagined. Growing worse by the minute. The dark blue section of Titanic lower levels were nearly submerged leaving only the decks above the surface.

“I thought it was unsinkable,” a lady gasped, making murmurs of worry echo among the passengers. Y/n shared a look with Natasha, finding the same emotion etched in the other's eyes. It increased when an unpleasant noise filled their ears, snapping their heads to see the rear of Titanic rising in the air, the front completely foregone in the sea. Without realizing it Y/n had stood from her seat, face wretched with horror.

“Oh my God.”

Hands flew to her mouth, gasps radiating behind at the sight of Titanic going dark. Barely could Y/n make out the vessel due to little light without the moon. It made Y/n strain her eyes, desperate to see what was happening. Praying to whoever above Bradley and her family aboard was on the side of the ship still afloat. Y/n’s breathing increased, feeling Natasha stand beside her.

Everything happened so fast after that. What sounded like gunshots rang out mixed with the screams of those still aboard fighting to make it in time to the rear of the ship. Metal and wood crunching caused bile to fill in her mouth, feeling nauseated by the overwhelming panic.

Whimpers escaped Y/n, becoming full force sobs when a horrible *crack* echoed in the night. Titanic had been split in half. And though hard to see in the dark, the sound alone of the moaning ship sent her into despair. Within minutes the rear half of Titanic lifted once more, fully disappearing out of view forever, leaving the cries of her passengers stranded in the 26 degree water desperately fighting to stay alive.

Y/n dropped to her knees, cries mixing with everyone else. The scene was too much to handle. Screams echoing in the darkness, utter misery to show the terror. She didn’t want to imagine how many people were trapped when the ship sank. All she pictured was Bradley’s face. His smile when the lifeboat descended. That one last look of love.

Then Y/n thought of her father and brother. Were they already at the bottom of the ocean? Or were they part of the hundreds screaming in the distance? The sound that was slowly becoming lower signaling their battle was with cold water was ending. Whatever the case Y/n didn’t want to picture their dead bodies—the thought only made her more devastated.

She cried for her mother. She cried for Natasha—who was in the same state as her. She cried for those on the lifeboat. But mostly Y/n cried for herself. For what could have been

For what should have been.

The screams soon drowned out. Leaving a ghostly silence as Y/n’s sobs returned to whimpers. Soon the exhaustion took over and she fell asleep against her mother’s chest. The cold air was a painful reminder of what had taken place. When Y/n awoke it was to the sounds of engines and for a moment she thought it had all been a nightmare. She’d find herself in bed with the sun peering in from the window. Hearing the footsteps of passengers leaving their suits to attend breakfast. And she’d go about her day the same way until it came time to see Bradley.

But it wasn’t a dream. Confirmed when her eyes opened to the dark skies turning an array of colors from the sun rising in the east. First she felt panic, then came the anguish and soon she was silently crying as her heart broke in two, hand coming to hold the diamond on her chest.

RMS Carpathia was their saving Grace. Y/n was pretty much a walking shell of a woman, reluctantly allowing the crew to help her onto the ship. A blanket was placed around her shoulders, a hot tea in her hand, the saucer shaking from her slight tremor. Guiding her mother and Natasha to a spot away from others, Y/n made no effort to drink the tea. She had no energy even though it would warm her up.

A piece of her was missing—forever lost in the ocean.

People stood at the entryway of where passengers were coming in. Hoping to find their loved ones among the survivors. Seeing Natasha peek around to get a better look, Y/n plainly said, “What are you doing?” Her tone was void of emotion, depicting her mental state.

“I heard someone say one of the lifeboats went back—they were searching for survivors in the water.” Instantly a wave of hope rose within her though Y/n was careful to not let it grow. Scared it’d only be met with heartbreak.

But then sandy hair caught her vision causing the teacup to fall from her hand, contents splashing onto the deck. “Y/n?” She ignored her mother, moving to stand on top of the bench a few feet away to overlook the crowd. Heart racing, she desperately searched for the owner of the sandy hair. She didn’t have to search too long.

“BRADLEY!!” The strangled cry escaped her, the man that stood roughly thirty feet away spinning around in a flash he nearly broke his neck. Y/n could see a girl resembling her beside him, Bradley possibly thinking it’d been her and was disappointed to find it wasn’t. Their eyes met, a mix of astonishment and relief, but most of all pure love pouring into their expression.

“Bradley!” Y/n yelled again, dropping from the bench just as he started to run in her direction. It was like slow motion. Y/n pushing through the crowd, frantically keeping her eyes on him to not lose sight.

“Y/n!” She heard him yell. The crowd between them separated and not a moment later Y/n was leaping into his arms, a sound mixed between a cry and laugh falling from her mouth.

“Oh God,” it was really him. He smelled of sea salt and shook like a leaf, but it was him, Y/n pulling away from the embrace just to make sure. “It’s really you.” His hands cupped her cheek, the feeling all too familiar.

“It’s me.”

“Y-you….I thought you were dead!” A tear trailed her cheek, his thumb moving to wipe it. “I saw the ship sink—and I could not see where you’d gone. How—?”

“The boat that came back,” he started to explain, voice shaking from the cold making Y/n stop a man with teacups, handing one to her husband. “I-I was on a piece of driftwood. It kept me from being…being in the water—.” He gulped, flinching as his eyes watered before closing them. Like he was trying to avoid the painful memory.

Now it was Y/n’s turn to hold his face, offering comfort in the best way she could.

“I-I tried get-getting them on but it was too small for a-all of us. Y-your….” He didn’t want to meet her eyes, shame and guilt visible in his face. “Your father wouldn’t get on—no matter h-how much I told him to. Your brother…” he trailed off, tears spilling from his eyes and Y/n brushed them away while fighting her own. Understanding what Bradley was trying to tell her. “And the others…..wh-what they held onto wasn’t enough to keep them out. I-I thought they’d be okay—I kept calling to them when I saw the boat—b-but they wouldn’t—they wouldn’t answer.” The last word ended with a sob, Bradley’s head dropping down onto Y/n’s shoulders as she held him.

They cried together, Y/n cradling the back of his neck with a hand and feeling the rock of his shoulders against her. Mourning the loss of their friends and family. Y/n grieving the death of her father and brother. When her mother and Natasha arrived, both with hopeful eyes turning into despair in seconds. Seeing Bradley in her arms knowing he was on the boat with the other survivors pulled from the water. Neither Jake nor Y/n’s father and brother with him.

Y/n felt Bradley remove himself from her hold. He looked broken, a shell of a man. Placing a hand in his pocket, they watched him take out an item they couldn’t make out. Only when he unfolded it did they realize what it was.

Jake’s hat.

Natasha let out a gut wrenching weep, covering her face with the hat when Bradley handed it to her before falling to her knees. “I’m so sorry,” a fresh wave of tears threatened to escape, Bradley unable to look at her without feeling the guilt for not saving the man she loved. Y/n moved to hold her friend, Natasha clutching onto her forearm while her mother silently grieved beside them.

All around them was a similar scene. Haunting and dreary. Completely different from the joyous celebration not even a week prior when Titanic sailed off on her maiden voyage. Carrying close to 2,300 people across the Atlantic. Some traveling to America for the first time or were on their way home. Now at least 700 of those passengers were on the Carpathia while the other 1,400 belonged to the sea.

The ship’s crew went around to collect names. Recording them to make it easier when going through the logs when they docked to account for all who survived and persisted. Y/n nearly forgot what name she was supposed to give. Boarding Titanic as a L/n but leaving as a Bradshaw. At the crew man’s confused eyes by the hyphenated name she gave Y/n simply stated, “We married as she sank, but the records will show Y/n L/n.”

Three days. It took three days for Carpathia to arrive in New York. The Statue of Liberty greeted her like an old friend, the people she carried unable to enjoy the scenery they’d been anticipating for so long. The sky rained as though it were crying in mourning. Grieving the lost souls instead of welcoming them.

When the ship docked, Y/n held onto her bag in one hand and Bradley’s arm on the other. Her mother and Natasha followed behind, displaying their grief in every movement. Stepping foot onto the pavement, Y/n let out a breath she’d been holding, feeling only a glimmer of relief at the fact they were home. “What now?” Bradley squeezed her hand, conveying everything in the simple gesture.

“We go on,” he admires the skyline briefly, settling his eyes on hers. “As best as we can we go on. We go on for them.”

“My mother was never the same after that night,” the cracking of wood in the fireplace echoed behind Y/n’s words while she sat on the couch beside Bradley in their sunken living room. Cynthia was across from them, wiping at her puffy face from time to time. Unable to control her emotions.

Y/n’s left middle finger unconsciously traced over the jewelry on her right hand. Her mother’s wedding rings. And nestled beneath her blouse was the necklace worth more than what remained of her family’s fortune.

“She nearly sent herself into an early grave trying to stabilize the business my father built from the ground up. Difficult to do back then when men wouldn’t respect a woman's authority,” Y/n smiles fondly at the memory of her mothers strong willed temperament. “My mother was an intelligent woman. She always prepared for the worst at times. And when deciding what to do about the company, she wanted to make sure our family would be okay if disaster were to strike again. It was like she predicted the fall of the stock market—-preventing us from being affected by selling our shares and interests years before the crash even happened.”

Cynthia thought of her grandmother. How hard it must’ve been to lose her husband and son so suddenly then having to become the face of the family. Her daughter discovering she hadn’t bleed since the week prior to boarding Titanic, the family doctor confirming the pregnancy not a day later. Never remarrying despite the many suitors itching to get a hand on the L/n fortune. Cynthia thought of how her grandmother would wake up bright and early every morning to watch the sunrise. Remembering the smell of her perfume and taking Cynthia and her sister to her favorite bistro for afternoon tea. Teaching them how to be independent women. Even on her deathbed as the illness consumed her right as America joined the Second World War, Y/n’s mother never lost her strength. Thinking of the memories had Cynthia missing her.

“And what about Natasha?” In all the years she’d been alive, Cynthia only heard her parents mention Natasha a handful of times. Each one was met with a distant look in her mother’s eyes, followed by grief until she thought of a happy memory associated with her, causing a small smile to form on her Y/n’s lips.

“She was never the same either,” the answer came with a sad exhale. “After reuniting with her family, Natasha spent several weeks at their family home. I visited her often while I finished my studies and did my best to comfort her in any way she needed. She ended up accepting Alan’s marriage proposal, but on the condition that they travel across America first before being wed. The journey would last several months, but in the end they wedded in Manhattan in the winter of 1913 and welcomed a son and daughter soon after,” the memory of Y/n holding Natasha’s son in the hospital flashed in her mind. “They were happy. As happy as they could be. But Alan, the amazing man he was, knew he couldn’t live up to what Jake was to her. The impact he made on Natasha’s heart. Yes, she grew to love Alan eventually—the birth of their children being the main reason she did—but he was not her true love. And he accepted that,” Y/n felt the lump form in her throat. As it always did when she thought about what came next for her friend.

Bradley’s hand rested on her knee, offering consultation knowing it was hard for her to think about Natasha. Her fingers interlaced with his, swallowing back the lump.

“After the end of the War—the first one—Natasha was traveling with her children home from a weekend visiting her parents. It was late and raining, difficult to see….a vehicle ran the sign and plowed straight into them.” Cynthia didn’t hear the soft gasp leave her mouth, her mother’s own tightening to prevent her lip from quivering. “She was gone instantly. Her children too. Alan was a mess as you can imagine—drowning himself in alcohol daily until I stepped in….”

“Wake up, Alan!” Y/n’s palm met his cheek after knocking the bottle from his hand. “What is the matter with you? Is this how you want to die?” She gripped the labels of his stained dress shirt to make him look at her, voice rising with each word. “By wasting away like some goddamn bum when you could be living for them. By continuing on instead of disgracing yourself or their memory. Natasha could have done what you’re doing when Jake died. And she watched him go down, unable to do anything and hear his screams go quiet as he lost his battle with survival. How do you think she dealt with that? She had every reason to not go on. Let the grief consume her and become the shallow of the person you’re on your way toward. But she didn’t!” Y/n let her emotion release. “She went on—she lived for him! And built a life with you—and you may not believe it but Natasha did love you, Alan. Maybe not the way you wished, but she loved you and you are disgracing it by doing this to yourself! Honor her and your children by finding the strength to live for them. Because so help me God, Alan, I will not watch you waste whatever is left of your life like this. You will die alone with no one to show up when it comes time to be there. The choice is yours.”

“Did he?” Cynthia couldn’t help but ask, “Did he eventually learn to cope?”

“He did,” Y/n smiled. It was a genuine one to show she was happy her friend made it through his hard times. “Alan moved to London about a month after that visit. He wrote to us often, telling about his adventures in England and even traveling across the channel to France where he continued exploring Europe. In 1921 he met a nice woman and married. They had a son and permanently resided in London,” Y/n’s tone went lower, the smile slightly falling. “The letters stopped coming in 1943–during the Second War. I do not know to this day what happened to him. If the bombings claimed them or if he died of disease,” she sadly shrugs, “I only hope he was happy with his life. That despite losing Natasha and their kids he was able to find peace.”

“I’m sure he did,” Bradley finally enters the conversation, having been quiet for most of the time and only adding input during the moments Y/n wasn’t there for. Keeping his experience in the water after Titanic sunk short and limited. While he learned to accept what happened and cope with the grief of watching his friends die in front of him, Bradley still felt the open wound in his heart. “You stepping in is what saved him. Had you not said what you did that day, I confidently believe Alan wouldn’t have made it to the next year. Going to London saved him. All he needed was a strong push.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Cynthia broke it. “Do you think they’ll one day find her?” At the confused looks she received her voice went softer, “Titanic. Do you think she’ll ever be located?” She watched her parents take a sharp breath, like they had never thought of the idea.

“Well…” Y/n brought a hand to rub her shoulder, unconsciously moving it to touch her necklace. “I predict she’d be in the place where she sank, at the bottom of the Atlantic. Either in two pieces,” she winced, “or held together by whatever was able to withstand the pressure.”

“I’m sure if the government or whoever is that interested would be able to locate her,” Bradley comments, rubbing Y/n’s knuckles with his thumb. “But I don’t know if we’ll ever see it happen.”

The rest of the evening was filled with Cynthia hearing stories of her parents' lives before Titanic. Laughter fell between them as Bradley relayed the times he and his friends had gotten into trouble on occasion. Y/n talked about her adventures with Natasha while in college and how her father went from a working class man to one made of riches. How her brother was a mischievous child, playing pranks on the higher-class members who would say mean things about their family. Bradley spoke of Pete, his Godfather, and of his parents who were the reason he went to England in the first place in 1912 to fulfill a dream they once wished of.

When it came time to call it a night, Cynthia kissed her parents on the cheek and departed to her room, thanking them for everything and being open with her. Once in their room Y/n removed her necklace, admiring it like she always did before bed and placed it on its holding, letting her thumb run over the smooth surface. On his side Bradley unfastened his watch, placing it next to the framed sepia photo of Y/n from their official wedding day that took place in May of 1912. Next to it were other photos, some black and white, of them over the years after Titanic. Y/n in her graduation gown. Their daughters as children and teenagers, on their wedding days and the birth of their grandchildren.

Tucked into the covers, Y/n smiled at the feeling of Bradley placing a kiss on her forehead. “You okay, doll?”

“I’m good,” she answered, leaning up to press her lips to his jaw. “Are you?”

“I am. More than what I thought I’d be. But you know,” his hand goes to take hers. “Having been so many years and with you by my side every day since, It’s made it easier. When I think about that night I still feel some guilt, but I don’t let it control me. Now when I have so much to live for. You, our daughters and grandchildren. Them.” He didn’t have to say their names for her to know who he was referring to.

Reuben, Javy, Mickey, Bob, Jake, Natasha, her father, her brother.

They didn’t get to experience the lives they should’ve had. So in their place, Y/n and Bradley live everyday like it’s their last. Making it count so when they reunite with them they’ll have plenty of stories to share.

“Me too,” she whispers, curling into him so her head rested on his chest. The gentle beat of his heart filled her ears, bringing ease to the old woman as she drifted off to sleep. Echoing the words Bradley spoke to her the night they docked in New York.

“We go on. We go on for them.”

54 years later. April 2012.

Amelia stared at the pictures lining the wall, under the giant lettering that read First-Class. Hazel eyes drifting over each, reading the words inscribed on the plaques before moving to the next. When she landed on the one she searched for, her gaze turned soft. The black and white picture depicted the woman at a young age, the most eye-catching detail being the heart-shaped diamond around her neck. A moment later Amelia felt movement on either side of her.

“Is that her, Nana?” Her granddaughter, Melody, asked from her right. On her left was Melody’s mother, Amelia’s daughter, Y/n. Named after the woman on the plaque in front of them.

“It is, darling.” Together they read the writing detailing her grandmother’s fate following April 15th, 1912.

Y/n L/n: February 14, 1890 — December 1, 1985

Daughter of New York real estate developer, Y/f/n L/n and his wife Y/m/n L/n. Set sail from Southampton with her parents and younger brother.

Boarded Titanic at age 21.

Passed away at age 95.

Married third-class passenger Bradley Bradshaw aboard Titanic on April 15, 1912 as she sank. Graduated NYU May 1912. Moved to Virginia Beach, Virginia. Two daughters. Published romantic thrillers and a best-selling autobiography. Returned to Titanic wreckage site at age 95 in October 1985. Died from heart failure two months later.

“Wow,” Melody breathed, letting her eyes admire the beautiful woman in the photograph. Her great-great grandmother. When the idea of going to the Titanic museum on the 100th anniversary of the wreck came to her for her school project, Melody had no idea of her linkage to the disaster until the night before when her grandma Amelia said she had a confession to tell her. The whole night was spent sitting in their hotel room with Amelia relaying the story her grandmother Y/n told her when she was 12 before revealing the events of April 15th when she was 18.

Amelia’s own daughter, named after the woman who made a lasting impact on her life, hadn’t heard the tale either. She was just as shocked as Melody to learn her great-grandparents were on Titanic when she sank.

Originally Melody’s idea for her project was to discuss the impact on society the disaster made. But after hearing the story of how her great-great grandparents fell in love aboard the ship, married while it sank, and reunited on Carpathia and lived their lives in memory of the ones they lost, Melody shifted her idea, Focusing on how even when all hope seems to be lost, love finds a way to break through.

“She was beautiful.”

“She was. My grandpa said she was the most beautiful person aboard,” Amelia chuckled. “Though I think his best friend Jake would say otherwise.” Natasha, her grandmother's best friend, came to mind. Amelia takes a moment to point out Natasha’s plaque where they read her unfortunate fate. “It was love at first sight—as cliché as it sounds, but it’s the truth. Four days was all it took for my grandparents to fall in love. Waiting every detail in her diary. Marrying during the moment everyone was in a panic.” Together the three women stepped over to the opposite side of the wall where the third-class survivor plaques were. There Amelia found her grandfather’s handsome face near the top.

Bradley Bradshaw: June 10th, 1889 — September 5th, 1985

Traveled to New York from Southampton with his friends from childhood. Only one to survive after being pulled from the water having climbed onto driftwood after Titanic fully submerged.

Boarded Titanic at age 21.

Passed away at age 96.

Married first-class passenger Y/n L/n aboard Titanic on April 15, 1912 as she sank. Moved to Virginia Beach, Virginia. Two daughters. Became a fighter pilot for US Navy 1914. Drafted into First World War 1915. Died in his sleep four days after the wreckage of Titanic was discovered 1985.

Amelia’s smile was bittersweet, “My mother told me shortly after I learned the full story that she discovered their secret when she found her mother’s ticket tucked away in a box of newspaper clippings about the wreck. NOt too long later my grandmother shared with her the diary detailing her first-hand experiences on Titanic. The night they told her was the first time they had told the story from start to finish—telling it once again the night my grandmother shared with my sister and I how they met. Only she left out the details of that night for the sake we were too young to understand,” Amelia paused, her gaze still on her grandfather’s image. “They told us the rest when I was eighteen. After that, I don’t think I ever heard them mention Titanic until the news broke out that the shipwreck had been discovered. Four days later, my grandfather died in his sleep. His heart just stopped,” Amelia went quiet after adding. “It was like he was waiting.”

Though quiet the entire time, Amerlia’s daughter Y/n was deep in thought. Thinking back to her childhood and the short ten years she got to spend with her great-grandparents. Having been named after Y/n, they two shared a connection and even got the chance to wear the beautiful diamond necklace she always had around her neck. Little Y/n had been shielded from the media attention the family was receiving in the months after Titanic’s discovery. First the death of Bradley, then the elderly Y/n went on a secret trip she had no idea was about. Ending the year by attending her funeral that winter.

Knowing what she did now, Y/n understood why her family reacted a certain way whenever the famous ship was ever mentioned in conversation.

Melody read over the information, frowning slightly. “Do you think she died of a broken heart? Your grandma?”

“Oh I’m certain,” Amelia traveled back a few paces to see Y/n’s plaque. Careful to not bump into other guests in the exhibit. The significance of the day brought many visitors to the museum.

“Being with someone for seventy-four years..how could she go on? My mother feared the journey to the wreck site would kill her, but my grandmother was adamant she’d go. She and my grandfather never believed they’d be alive to witness the ship be located. With his death four days after, my grandmother fulfilled an unspoken promise between them. So she went with my mother and aunt—ninety five years old remember, and saw the waters one last time. One thing you should know is my grandmother never crossed the Atlantic again after 1912. My grandfather did, because of the war, but I think Y/n was waiting until Titanic was located to travel the sea again. A part of her soul was left behind that night—losing the father she adored and her brother. Then you had my grandfather’s best friends.” She took another pause, hands moving to her pockets where she felt the leather bound diary.

Y/n’s diary.

The one she wrote in her will that was to be donated to the Titanic museum on April 15, 2012. Exactly 100 years to the day that the ship of dreams became one with the sea.

“Going to the site filled that final gaping hole in her. But the loss of her true love was too much for my grandmother. And so she passed in her sleep exactly three months to the day after Titanic was found.” Amelia removed the book from her pocket, hand softly touching the rough and dated surface of the leather. “Leaving me with this to fulfill some of her last wishes.”

“Is that…..” Melody leaned closer, her mother doing the same. Both were staring at the book with wonder and awe.

“Her diary,” the older woman confirmed their suspicions. “She wished for it to be donated here on the centennial anniversary,” Amelia gave her granddaughter a look, “I didn’t plan for you wanting to come here when I made sure to fulfill the promise. Having you two here is a bonus—especially now that you know everything.” Amelia could see in their eyes they were practically itching to open the book, wanting to see the contents that laid within.

Moving to a bench in the corner away from prying eyes, Amelia motioned for them to sit on either side of her. “The museum director is expecting me once we finish here so I must be careful with this. For preservation reasons, I’ll be the one to hold and turn the pages, but I’d love to share with you her words. And I know she would want the same,” glancing at the women, she received eager nods. “Alrighty then.”

Opening the cover, their eyes met the cursive writing that belonged to Amelia’s grandmother, her name in bold cursive, Y/n L/n. Amelia gently turned to the first page, dated one month before Titanic sailed on her maiden voyage.

“Monday, March 10, 1912. Father has come home with the news of his invitation to a conference in London next month. Not only has he informed my mother and I of his wishes for us to join him, but also he has purchased tickets for the White Star Line’s new vessel expected to set sail one month from today. They are calling her, Titanic…”

As Amerlia read off the words of her grandmother one last time, she wondered if her grandparents were back on the ship of dreams with their friends and family. Crossing the Atlantic in a place where time and space ceased to exist. Only the open ocean and the beautiful skies. Where Bradley was chasing a giggling Y/n down the corridors. Where Natasha got to live the life she dreamed with Jake. Their friends with them and Y/n’s family together at last.

It was a long wait full of patience. One seventy-four years in the making.

But as Y/n took her last breath on the night of December 1st, 1985, she was young and full of life, wearing the Heart of the Ocean as she ran to board the ship about to sail for a journey that would never end. Coming to the platform where a young Bradley stood, a spitting image of what he looked like the first time she laid eyes on him, his hand out for her to take. Behind him were the smiling faces of her family and friends—some of whom she hadn’t seen in seventy years, with the passengers of Titanic on the decks above. A beaming Natasha holding Jake’s hand, waving to Y/n as her children peeked from behind her legs.

Y/n locked eyes on her husband. The soulmate she had been without for three months. No words were spoken. Conversing everything they wanted to say in just the one look.

‘We’ve been waiting for ya, doll.’

‘I had to do something first.’

‘We know,’ a silent nod passes. ‘We were there with you.’ Gesturing his head to the ship as if to say, ‘You ready?’ Bradley stepped forward, hand still out for Y/n to take. Not even hesitating, Y/n grasped his warm palm in his, the feeling all too familiar as a spark of life shot through her chest.

Boarding Titanic together for the first and final time.

………………

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa

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neptune-ian · 1 month

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More book recs! Only a Monster by Vanessa Len the mc is a biracial asian/british girl in England who finds out her family are "monsters" they can time travel but in order to do it they have to steal time from innocent people(as in stealing 5 minutes from someone means they live 5 minutes less than they could've). except her "soulmate" ends up hunting her down, murdering her family, and anyone else with their powers. She has to keep time traveling with super annoying hot rich brat(ahem totally rooting for him) and find a way to bring her family back to life and also stop the hero from killing them all. The third book isn't out yet.

Threads that Bind by Kika Hatzopoulou I gave it 4 stars only bc sometimes it was a bit too political for me in a cringey way and the romance was BORING BUUTTT the plot is really good and entertaining. MC is a descendant of the fates but has to go on a good murder mystery solving adventure to figure out why people who should be dead aren't and are murdering people.

Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross. Great writing style, really pretty. Academic rivals to lovers. They have magic typewriters that let them type letters to each other from anywhere which is important bc they volunteer to be at the front lines of a war between gods. The plot is a little too messy for my tastes and the second one I dnf bc it was just so boring and the plot was dreadful but I really loved her writing style and the first one was very sweet and cute.

One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig is very gothic and probably better read during the fall it's got those kinds of vibes. In this world if you catch the plague you get killed except when the mc got it she was hidden and didn't get caught. In this world there's magic cards(reminds me of tarot lol) and the cards can give you powers like the Beauty card can enhance your beauty but the more you use it, the more negative side effects come with it, like the more you use the beauty card, the more heartless you become. when the mc was little she touched one of these cards and basically a big bad monster from the card went into her head so she has a big monster living inside her head. Pros: when she needs super strength/speed the monster can help her. Cons: the more she uses its powers, the more it can take control over her mind. She basically has to help the captain and his crew find the rest of the cards to break a curse except if they find out she's had the plague(and has a monster in her head) they'll kill her.

On the list… ✍🏽

I know which ones I may read!!! Thank you anon💙 the first one seems very much interesting and Divine Rivals seems very… tragic but poetic too? At least from what you said, I want to read it too!

The last one somehow reminds me of a book I read too! But it’s not out in english yet just in french and italian.

Thank you anon!

#books recommendations #books

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part I) - Chapter 04

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words: 9.832K

Authors note: In this one I start to explore more of the magical bond between reader and wanda, and well, it will be very much about that from this one on. I need to know if you all prefer longer (and more detailed) chapters about the reader's years at hogwarts like this one (which has been divided into three parts) or if you prefer the pace of the first three chapters (with only the relevant events of the whole year). Enjoy your reading.

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

It's very different having Nebula and Gamora at home.

You were used to having only Tony and Jarvis, and occasionally your father, but now that you have your friends sleeping in the next two rooms, you always have someone your own age to talk to and laugh about the same things.

It took a while for things to normalize, especially the first week. Thanos was furious about the letter that Gamora sent him, saying that they would live with you now. He showed up in the yard of your house the next day, and you have never seen your father so enraged.

They talked for many minutes, and then Thanos demanded to speak to his daughters. Nebula was trembling as she walked out the door, but your father stayed by their side during the entire conversation.

When they went back inside, Thanos left. Two days later, your father signed the adoption papers.

You were surprised when you discovered that Nebula was as passionate about magical mechanics as Tony, so it didn't take long for it to become commonplace for her to disappear into the basement of the house along with your brother, both of them wrapped up in some strange invention. You and Gamora usually spent most of your time in the backyard, she reading some Arithmanian stuff you didn't understand, while you played quidditch, or the two of you tended the garden. Mantis also came to visit you in the summer, and Groot was the size of a small dog now.

You exchanged many letters with Wanda during the vacations. And when Iron brought another one of them a little after dinner, on the antepenultimate week of vacation while you and Gamora were in your room talking about the coming year, she acquired a mischievous look on her face.

"What do you guys talk about so much?" She teased as you took the letter from Iron's beak. You shrugged, feeling your face heat up, and thought it better to look at the paper in your hands than Gamora's face.

“I don’t know,. Everything i think”. You answer.

Gamora is silent as you read the letter. You smile, because it is as if you hear Wanda's voice in the words you read.

"Can I ask you something?" Gamora speaks next, you make a noise with the little one in agreement, without taking your eyes off the paper. "Have you ever kissed anyone?

"What?" you ask in surprise, raising your eyes to her. "N-no."

Gamora's arms are crossed and she's sitting on the bed, and she raises her eyebrow in disbelief.

"Is that so?" She asks and you swallow dryly, confirming. Her expression softens. "I'm only saying that because a lot of people start dating in third grade."

You close the letter in your hands, placing it on the shelf beside you. Ignoring how the subject makes your stomach flip with nervousness, you rest your hands on your knee.

"Do you think we'll start dating too?" You ask shyly, and Gamora smiles, shrugging.

"Who knows?" She retorts. "I never thought about that either. But I do know that Pietro kissed Monica on the mouth after our leave vacation inside a cabin on the Hogwarts express."

"Are you for real?" You asked in surprise. "How did you find out about that?"

"Quill wrote to me last night." She says. "I forgot to tell you."

"Wow." You say.

"Yeah." She agrees. "Peter told me that Pietro turned red as a tomato, but kept smiling. I thought Wanda would tell you that."

You bit your tongue to avoid mentioning that you and Wanda don't talk about such things, and cleared your throat before shrugging.

"Maybe Pietro didn't say anything to her." You say. "I probably won't tell Tony when I have my first kiss."

"You're probably right." Gamora said casually. "But you're going to tell me, right? When you kiss someone, you need to tell me how to do it."

You laughed, walking over to Gamora.

"I promise I will." You say extending your pinky to her. She looks at you confused, "It's a pinky promise, haven't you ever sworn like that?"

"That's muggles' stuff." She comments with a smile, and you laugh.

"Yeah, my dad probably learned it from my mom." You say using your other hand to take Gamora's hand. "Come on, you put your finger like this, and then we swear."

Gamora laughed as she followed your commands, and then you repeated the promise. After you yawned, she bade you goodnight and went to her room.

You fought the urge to reread Wanda's letter, and threw yourself on the bed, not understanding why your brain was replaying Gamora's questions in your mind and you kept thinking of Wanda afterwards.

//-//

The Quidditch World Cup is happening this year, and you can hardly contain yourself with excitement.

You had been to the event a few times when you were younger, but now that you actually played quidditch it was a very different feeling.

Your favorite team was the Guardians of the Galaxy, who had played for England for many years, and were also your father's favorite team. Tony stopped liking them the first year, saying that they were losing too many games, but you knew it was because Steve Rogers was rooting for the Brooklyn Soldiers team and Tony was trying to impress him.

All your friends will be at the event, including many thousands of other witches from all over the world.

You have to wake up at dawn in order not to miss the time of the portal keys that have been scattered around the country by the Ministry of Magic, to prevent wizards from being seen disappearing into inappropriate places that could expose the magical world.

When you came down to the kitchen, everyone was already having breakfast. Your father kissed your forehead as he walked past you, a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"Finally awake, sleepyhead." Teased Tony when he saw you, you just yawned.

"Are we leaving already?" You asked sleepily, grabbing some toast.

"Yes, dear." Her father replied looking at his watch. "Get ready soon, or we'll miss the schedule."

You grumble in agreement, hurrying to get back to your room and take a shower.

When you are ready, and stretching as you walk to the outside of the house, Gamora joins you, a backpack on her back resembling yours.

"I can't wait to see the foreign wizards." She comments excitedly making you smile. Gamora didn't like the sport, and was far more excited to see the witches from the rest of the world than to watch the match.

"I bet there's going to be some Ilvermorny people's stall." You say as you catch up with your father, who was waiting next to Tony and Nebula. Jarvis waves goodbye to you from the doorway, and you begin walking toward the trail beyond the mansion grounds. "They are so show-offy."

Gamora laughs.

"I've never met anyone from the United States." She counters. "But some witches from Japan have been to my house."

You know that the mention of home or Thanos makes Gamora very uncomfortable, so you try to skirt around the subject.

"I guess Nurse Cho was from Mahoutokoro, huh?" You comment, and Gamora shrugs. "Thor had mentioned that during a class, I think."

"I wonder if the other schools are cool like Hogwarts?" She asks, and you smile.

"No place is like Hogwarts."

Gamora laughs, but agrees. You walk in silence for a few more minutes, and it is only when you reach an empty area that you stop.

"Here we are, people." Your father says next, slightly tired from the exercise. He waves for everyone to form a circle as he checks his watch. "Two minutes to go, children. Stand in position please."

There is a small cloth boot in the center of the circle, and you are not the least bit surprised because you know that portal keys are usually the most mundane things you can think of.

You all reach down and touch the boot with your fingertips. You smile at Tony who looks up at you. Two minutes later, you feel a tug, and everything spins around you. Taking a deep breath, you focus on controlling yourself as you are falling into the portal key. And then you land on the ground.

"Here we are." Your father says smiling beside you. You look to the side to see Gamora helping Nebula to stand up properly, as she had remarked that she gets a little queasy with this kind of magic. Tony throws an arm around your shoulders next.

"Ready to see the guardians lose, kid?" He teases causing you to let out a humorless laugh.

"You wish." You grumble pushing Tony lightly, who lets go as he laughs.

And then you start walking again, until you come to a place considerably noisier than where you were before.

The ministry seemed to have bypassed an area with low chains, and you notice the magical aura around the metal, signaling that everything was magically hidden.

There is a wizard in uniform at the entrance, and he collects the tickets before letting you pass into the hut area.

There are many tents of the most varied characteristics. You laugh in surprise when your gaze catches a conjuration exactly like a vacation castle, but much smaller in size. As you walk through the crowd, your father asks everyone to hold hands so as not to get lost as he guides you to the area where you would be staying.

Your father has rented a tent in a more private area of the place, and there are hardly any witches where you are. You like the silence, but you miss how much more fun the other place seems.

"The Rogers and the Barnes should be here by now I imagine." Your father comments as he waves his wand to open the cabin. You enter the room next, it is like a small winter home inside, very cozy.

"Yes, dad." Tony replies throwing his backpack on one of the couches. "I wrote Steve last night."

Howard grumbles in agreement, walking to the kitchen. You place your backpack on the floor next.

"Daddy, can I go look for Wanda and Pietro?" You ask and your father laughs, denying it.

"You didn't eat anything before you left, honey." He says turning around. "Eat something and then you can go look for them."

You grumble, but agree. While you are making some eggs, Steve's family arrives.

"Howard, you outdo yourself every year, my friend." Joseph Rogers comments as he enters the cabin. Your father smiles cheerfully as he hugs him in greeting, then greets Sarah, Steve's mother, with a kiss on the cheek. He ruffles Steve's hair and pats his arm, repeating the same gesture to Bucky, who follows behind.

" Is your father not here, James?" Howard asks next, and Bucky clears his throat.

"No, sir." He replies. "Since my sisters can't come, he took them to a music event in the muggle world. If you want my opinion, rock concerts are as cool as quidditch."

The comment makes Howard laugh in agreement, but Steve's family doesn't seem to understand very well.

Soon they were all around the room, talking animatedly about the most varied subjects. You exchanged a complicit look with Gamora and Nebula, and you took advantage of your father being involved in a conversation with Joseph to leave the cabin.

"Do you have any idea where Professor Lehnsherr has placed the tents?" Gamora asks you once you are outside and you look around.

"No." You reply. "Wanda just wrote that she and Pietro were going to be here too, but I don't even know if it's Magneto that's bringing them."

"We're just left to look then." Nebula concludes and you nod in agreement, starting to walk.

You walk back to the common tent area, looking around.

Gamora and Nebula are easily distracted by the amount of interesting things to see, and almost lose track of you when some witches from the Salem Institute hand them some exchange pamphlets.

It is only at the food stall that you finally find who you were looking for.

"My god, is that...?" You hear Gamora exclaim next to you in surprise. You know she was talking about Professor Lehnsherr, who is wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sunglasses and looks very well, and has a completely different posture than he usually has in class, but you are not looking at him anymore.

Your stomach is restless because you are looking at Wanda, wearing a black skirt with knee socks and boots, and a red jacket. She looks beautiful, and you are blushing.

Gamora waves to them from a distance, and it is Pietro who notices you guys first, waving back cheerfully while nudging Wanda on the shoulder. She blinks in confusion and then smiles when she sees you.

You think your legs have turned to jelly, but you continue walking toward her.

"It's so good to see you girls" Pietro exclaims happily as he hugs Gamora.

"Hi, Wanda." You greet with a half-hearted smile, but Wanda's face lights up and she jumps at you, hugging you tight, and making your heart soar. "It's good to see you too." You whisper humorously against her hair, and Wanda releases you with a reddened face, smiling widely.

"I missed you." She says to you shyly making you look away clumsily, but before you can add anything else, Pietro is greeting you as well, and Wanda does the same with your sisters.

"Hello everyone." Said a male voice next, and you stared at Professor Erik awkwardly. He didn't seem bothered by being approached by any of you, however, a hot dog in his hands.

"Hello, Professor Lehnsherr." You and your sisters said in unison, but the man had an almost friendly expression.

"Don't worry about being formal while we're here, girls." He says. "We're just sorcerers in here, looking for a little cheap entertainment."

You and Gamora exchange a look, not knowing exactly what to say next. Professor Erik sighs, and then looks at his children.

"You can go spend some time with the Starks, twins." He says making his kids let out excited exclamations. "Be back by the start time of the match, please. I don't want to lose sight of you in a place with so many people of unreliable origin."

You don't quite understand what "unreliable origin" means, but you don't question it, excited to spend some time with the Maximoffs.

After Erik gives them a few galleons to buy whatever snacks they want, you walk back to the cabin.

//-//

You spent the whole afternoon with all your friends in the cabin, playing magical games, practicing simple spells, and trying to guess the outcome of the match. When the first warning alarm sounded, you all let out a chorus of excitement.

You ran to your room, looking for the cheerleader accessories you had obtained, while ignoring the teasing Tony was throwing at you about the opponent team's sure victory.

He and the Rogers were all wearing blue and white scarves, bracelets and hats, which represented the colors of the Brooklyn Soldiers.

Your father was wearing a big red jacket with the symbol of a gold star, the team's mark. You gave him one of the buttons you brought.

Pietro was also rooting for the Soldiers, along with Nebula and Bucky, so you didn't try to lend any of your accessories to them.

Wanda was in the room when you put a blue scarf with gold accents around her neck.

"For you to support the team." You commented excitedly, without any idea that Wanda's flushed face was because the scarf smelled like you.

"Thanks." She said shyly, and you just nodded, holding some bottons on her shirt.

Gamora borrowed one of the hats you brought.

When you walked towards the stadium area, all the other spectators were leaving their tents and tents and going in the same direction, so the crowd was even bigger. You did your best not to get lost.

Once inside the iron structure, you felt someone nudge your shoulder.

"Pietro and I need to find Dad." Wanda said and you waved, but then frowned, nodding back.

"I think he found you first." You comment while watching Erik look at you as he enters the same iron corridor. He looks at your family and friends next for a moment, his expression serious. "See you after the game, right?"

"Of course." Wanda smiles before touching your arm lightly. You still feel the touch many moments later.

//-//

The match is absolutely incredible. It is even better because the guardians win with a remarkable difference when catcher Jean Gray captures the Snitch after the second half, the stadium vibrating in celebration.

It's a complete mess after that. There are fireworks, and a lot of noise. Even though they lost the match, all the Brooklyn Soldiers fans are so impressed with the incredible match that they join the celebrations.

You stumble out of the stadium between laughter, Gamora's arm around your shoulders as she laughs at the dance that your father and Joseph are doing on the way back.

Fans of the Guardians continued to light the celebratory fireworks, and there was a huge fireworks scarlet dragon streaking through the skies above your heads.

Your dad and the Rogers family go back to the cabin while you stay outside with Bucky and your friends, wanting to enjoy the rest of the fireworks display. You also want to see Wanda again.

"The Guardians are very excited, aren't they?" Bucky comments with a laugh, noticing an increase in the volume of the crowd's screams. You laugh and you look at the sky again.

When you blink, there is an explosion noise in the distance, so muffled by the other sounds that it makes you confused. Your friends don't seem to have heard, and you step forward, watching the crowd closely.

You see a lot of people laughing, and dancing, and it takes a minute for you to also notice those who are running.

"Guys." You call in confusion, and Gamora who was closest to you turns around with curiosity. "I think there is something wrong."

Another explosion occurs and this time everyone listens. The crowd in front seems to gradually realize that there is something wrong going on. And then the firework dragon in the sky is fading, considerably dimming the lighting.

Your father came out of the hut the next moment, a concerned look on his face, and the wand in his hands.

You feel a panic rising in the pit of your stomach when people start running and screaming, and you notice spells being cast from a distance. You were thinking it might be some kind of cheering team fight, but the possibility is completely ruled out when you notice the masked men in the crowd.

"Get your things now." Order your father out loud and then you are all moving back to the cabin, picking up all your belongings quickly. You hold the backpack tightly against your shoulders when you go out again, complete chaos around you. Your father, Joseph and Sarah lead you among the people, shouting that you need to get back to the portkey. You gasp in surprise when you feel a twinge behind your eyes, and you are struck by a vision of a forest. This little delay is enough to make you stay behind and lose sight of your family.

But you are not looking for them anyway. Your feet are spinning in the opposite position, and you are pushing people to run. You need to find Wanda.

//-//

You end up at the end of the camp, the tents far behind you. The sound of confusion drowned out by the distance. Feeling a new stab of pain in the head, your knees give way and your body lowers, while you raise your hands to your face, immediately being hit by a vision. This time you see a shadow of a tall figure, perhaps a man, standing in front of you. There is a metallic taste of blood in your mouth, and you want to get away, but there is something holding you back. When you blink, you're back the end of the camp.

You don't understand what's going on, and there is a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness in your chest, but you keep walking, crossing the magical chain and moving into the forest. You fall to the ground on your knees a moment later, intense pain all over your body. Gasping, you look up, only to see a green light form in the sky.

At first you thought it might be fireworks, but it was magic. The symbol of a hydra conjured in the clouds was beginning to move, and your entire body weighed.

You looked down, and your eyes caught a figure in the woods. It was a man, but he was too far away and you couldn't see his face. He had his wand raised to the sky, clearly being responsible for conjuring it up. Your head started to spin in pain, and you rested your hands on the ground to try to normalize your breathing, and then the man looked at you.

You felt your heart race when he started walking towards you, but then there were screams and footsteps, and he ran. A moment later, your father was kneeling beside you.

"Darling! Are you okay?" He asked worriedly raising his hands to your face looking for bruises. You sighed, still in pain. Only when the aurors of the ministry of magic raised their wands to the sky and made the mark disappear, you feel your body relieve immediately.

"I saw a man." You confessed breathlessly, and your father looked at you with confusion. But the wizards of the ministries seemed quite interested.

"Where, child?" Asked one of the aurors, you gasped slightly, feeling your body tremble a little.

"He went in that direction." You say pointing. "He was the one who conjured."

The woman nodded in understanding, and left after whistling for the rest of the Aurors to follow her. Your father helped you to stand.

"Honey, listen to me carefully." He said in a mixture of concern and seriousness. "Don't tell anyone about this."

“What, daddy? I don't.."

"Honey, please." He interrupts by stroking your cheeks with his thumb. “I will explain everything to you, I promise. But this needs to stay between us. You can't tell anyone what you saw in the sky.”

You swallow dry, but agree. Your dad doesn't let go of your hand all the way back to the portkey, and when you rejoin your friends again, you lie and say you just got lost in the food stall area after he gives a little grip on your fingers.

//-//

Your father doesn't explain anything to you.

When you return home, he receives urgent howlers from the ministry, and then he returns to the ministry of magic.

You are walking around the kitchen, outraged that you were prevented from looking for Wanda on your way out of the stadium and you have no idea if she is okay.

"What if the Maximoffs have a phone?" You grumble to yourself, but then you remember that you don't even have the number. You press your hands to your face, trying to calm yourself down. Wanda was fine. She had to be.

Gamora and Nebula are sitting on the couch, discussing something with each other, looking concerned. Tony locked himself in the room after Howard refused to tell him what was going on.

You don't understand why you have this horrible feeling in your chest, and you can't stop wondering if Wanda is okay, and then you support your hands on the table, trying to normalize your breathing and stop yourself from crying.

"Hey, breathe." You are almost startled by the voice at your side. Gamora touches your back tenderly, and you shake your head, feeling the tears flow. "She's fine, you need to breathe."

"You don't know that." You snap out of breath, and then Gamora puts her hand on your shoulder, asking you to look at her.

“We met Erik on the way out while you got lost. They left before you came back. ” She tells and you blink confused. “Wanda is safe. Breathe."

You gasp, and then your body relaxes as if a weight has been lifted off your back. Gamora looks at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, but you sigh, hugging her in appreciation.

"Thank you." You whisper against her hair. "I should have asked."

When you let go, she still looks at you with concern.

"Yeah, I know." She says assessing her face. "You should have asked how anyone else would do it."

You frown, not understanding what she is saying. But she still looks at you, suspicious.

“It looks like you were barely listening to us when your dad brought you back. And then I find you like that, and one word is enough to get you back to normal. ”

"What do you mean, Gamora?"

"I'm worried about you." She says. "I don't know what it is, but there is something strange about the way Wanda affects you."

You change the weight of your feet, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's talking about you not being able to bewitch Wanda." Nebula adds by getting up and walking over to you. You blink confused, ready to say that story was too old, but the girl is not intimidated. "She's talking about the way you behave around her."

"I don `t…"

"It's not just about liking someone." Nebula interrupts and you feel your cheeks heat up. "Gamora thought it was because you are in love, but that seems like something else."

Something in your stomach falls. You gasp in surprise.

"I'm not i-in love!" You exclaim with a racing heart. "I'm not…"

Gamora sighs impatiently, messing with hair. And trying to calm you down, she puts her hands on your shoulders next.

"Listen to me, okay?" She asks. "There's something weird about the way you care about Wanda. We don't know what it is, but you need to admit that you can see that too."

Facing your friend back, it takes a moment while you think of your words, for you to speak again.

"I saw a mark in the sky." You confess, deciding to disobey your father. Gamora blinks in confusion, and you clear your throat before you clear up everything that happened. Her hands fall off your shoulders when she opens her eyes wide for your confessions.

"Are you sure it was a hydra?" Nebula asks seriously and you wave.

"Do you know what that means?" You ask, and the girls exchange a look, but before they say it, you hear another voice.

"It is the Mephisto mark."

You get scared of Tony coming down the stairs, his gaze on you as he walks over to where you are. He folds his arms when he reaches you.

"Which means death walkers are back."

"Tony ..."

"You said you saw a wizard." He interrupts seriously. "Do you have any idea who it is?"

"No." You embarrassingly deny it, feeling your stomach sink with the look Tony is giving you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are the one who's been weird." He replies. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

"What did you mean by that?"

"What did you see in your head?" He counters with another question and you start to get angry at the way he is behaving, but tell him anyway. Tony sighs impatiently, turning in the opposite direction. He circles the room for a few moments before speaking again. “Daddy is never going to let us get involved in this. Especially now that you are having visions in your head. ”

"I still haven't told him about it." You grumble and Tony looks at you in surprise.

"Then don't say anything."

"What?" You exclaim with a frown in confusion. "What you mean? I need to say. I have to find out what it is. ”

Tony laughed incredulously.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he retorted. "Dad won't tell us anything. He didn't tell us about being an Auror, or about being friends with Professor Lehnsherr. He didn't even bother to try to understand why you can't bewitch Wanda!" Tony squirms angrily, and you shrink your body to the pitch of his voice. But he sighs, running his hands through his hair, and softening his expression. "I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. It's just... I don't like being lied to."

You looked away, feeling tired. All this talk was making your head hurt, and the previous events had affected you more than you would like to admit.

"I don't know what we can do about this." You say. "I don't understand what's going on, and Dad would be the first person I would ask something, but he's not willing to help us. I feel like I'm at a dead end."

Tony lifts his arm to your shoulder, trying to reassure you.

"Hey, don't be so concerned about it." He says. "I'll find out what I can, and well, we're going back to Hogwarts next week. You and Wanda can try to figure out what this connection is about, while I try to figure out what's going on at the ministry."

You nod in agreement and Tony smiles, hugging you briefly. You hope that despite everything, you will have a quiet year at Hogwarts.

//-//

The Maximoffs are not on board the Hogwarts express.

You are in the same cabin as your friends, squeezed in because not everyone can fit in there, and you take several turns with Peter and Darcy in turn to sit down, while you are spread out in the corridor.

"No sign of Wanda, huh?" Gamora asked as she saw you looking around the hallway for the tenth time while you were standing outside the cabin, listening to Mantis tell you about her summer from inside.

"No." You reply. "I talked to her Slytherin colleagues, but none of them were very happy to tell me anything. Wanda didn't say anything in her last letter."

"Maybe she will arrive in a flying car, I hear they are popular." She jokes, making you laugh briefly. You can't ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach, and you sigh. Gamora places her hands on your shoulders. "Let's find something to distract you, okay? How about some explosive snap?"

//-//

Laughing at Quill's joke about the last statement in the Daily Prophet, as you walked off the train with the rest of your friends toward the castle.

A chorus of excitement coming from some students ahead of you caught your and your friends' attention, who looked in the direction curiously.

"Is that a ship?" You heard someone ask as they pointed in the direction of the lake.

There was a large old ship, right in the center, coming toward the castle. Everyone looked on excitedly.

"Students, please continue toward the castle!" Drax loudly commanded the crowd, and the students exchanged nervous whispers, all extremely curious to know who was coming to the castle. You swapped a glance with Gamora before following the crowd.

//-//

Already seated at the Hufflepuff table, you startled slightly when Mantis touched your hand.

"Calm down, you're making it snow." She asked gently. You shook your head, realizing the cloud you had accidentally conjured up above you. You had been so nervous the last few minutes, which only got worse when your gaze failed to find Wanda at the Slytherin table, and to no avail was the look of reassurance Gamora threw at you when she said she would ask her colleagues about her over dinner. As soon as you sat down at the Hufflepuff table, you played with your wand between your fingers, and before you knew it, it was snowing.

"Sorry about that." You mumble clumsily, putting your wand back away. Mantis is not angry, her look is one of concern.

"I'm sure everything is fine with Wanda." Mantis says to you, and you sigh, running your hand through your hair.

"I think so too." You say. "I just don't know why I can't stop thinking about it."

"Y/N..."

You lost your attention completely on Mantis as your gaze reached the door of the hall just as you noticed the figures entering. Wanda and Pietro, walking hurriedly to the Slytherin table, being two of the last students to enter the hall before the door closed. You made mention of getting up, but Mantis held you by the shoulders.

You were about to complain, but she pointed in the direction of the teachers' table, and you rolled your eyes, because the welcoming speech was about to begin. Your gaze remained on Wanda, but she was looking straight ahead. The only good thing was that the feeling of worry in you diminished considerably now that you were seeing her.

"[...] and I am proud to tell you that a very special event will take place at Hogwarts this year: the Triwizard Tournament!"

You are startled slightly when Headmistress Harkness' words reach your ears at the same moment that the main hall explodes in hubbub. You lose sight of Wanda because people are moving excitedly, and Mantis is nudging you to look forward.

It is only now that you notice the large stone globet and the blue flame displayed in front of the bench. You blink in surprise, feeling your face flush because you spent all the minutes of the speech staring at Wanda without realizing it.

Then the principal speaks again.

"Of course, the ministry has determined rules for the safety of the students." She recounts. "No student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to participate in the tournament, in addition to the dueling rules..."

The principal's speech was drowned out by the chorus of protests from the younger students, especially those in the fifth and sixth grades. You raised your eyebrow slightly, because you noticed that your brother was one of the boys who was shouting in annoyance.

Agatha then made a stern expression, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, and it took only a few moments for the hall to become completely silent, and for her to smile again.

"Note that the other participating schools will be staying with us this year." She continues her speech. "Please welcome the students from Durmstrang Institute."

The doors to the main hall opened again, and a small crowd of students wearing thick winter coats entered. A tall, shabby-looking man with a scar over his right eye was at the front, guiding the students.

"Agatha!" Greeted the man with open arms as he reached the headmistress. Agatha smiled as she hugged him, and you tried to get a look at the new folks, as did the rest of the school, who were looking excitedly at the crowd. You let out a surprised exclamation when you recognized one of the faces. Your classmates also seemed to realize who it was, because many whistles and comments were heard.

"That's Jean Grey, isn't it?" Peter Parker asked sitting next to you. When you confirmed it, he widened his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know she was still in school."

"She's the youngest catcher of the century, Parker." You commented with a smile.

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" He retorted, and you made a noise of agreement.

The students reached the front of the hall next.

"It's good to have you here, Yondu." Said the headmistress. "How was the trip?"

"Wet and noisy, woman!" Rebutted the man humorously. He didn't seem too excited to greet any other teachers, focused only on the woman in front of him. Agatha looked at the students next.

"Please feel free to join any of the empty seats, all the houses were honored to accommodate you." She warned the students, but they only moved after Yondu waved lightly at them.

You bit the inside of your cheek, noting that almost everyone sat down at the Slytherin table. Yondu joined the students next, not failing to take a good look at the goblet before sitting down.

Agatha looked down the hall again.

"Let us also welcome our honored guests from Beauxbatons."

The students at Beauxbatons' institute seemed nicer the first moment you saw them, but as soon as you noticed the way their cloaks were bewitched to land gracefully on the floor as they moved, you figured they must be the kind of people who wouldn't be happy with Hogwarts' cleaning schedule.

The principal of Beauxbatons was a tall, stout woman, very beautiful. She had a crown on her head, and you wondered if the people of Beauxbatons were royalty in some way.

"Ovette, it is an honor to have you with us." She greeted Principal Agatha, but unlike before, her smile was cold, almost fake. The other woman didn't seem happy to be there either, but returned the greeting in the same formality.

The Beauxbatons students sat down at Gryffindor's table, and you giggled when Quill grimaced at you from his table as one of the boys sat down next to him.

Suddenly you felt very hungry. And dinner didn't disappoint.

"I think you'd better wait to talk to Wanda tomorrow," Mantis remarked next to you as soon as you finished eating. You frowned, looking at her.

"Why?"

"Professor Lehnsherr has been staring at the Slytherin table like he's going to cast a good behavior spell at them the entire dinner." She counters as she looks at the teachers' table. You look just in time to catch Erik with a stern look toward the students who were talking loudly on the end before he went back to eating his potato salad.

"Maybe he just expects better behavior while we have guests here." You comments, glancing back to the Slytherin table. Wanda's gaze has not searched for yours all dinner, and you are starting to get annoyed by this.

"If you're going to risk it, I suggest you do it before curfew." Mantis quips as she looks down at her own lap. Groot is trying to steal her piece of chicken, and she smiles as she hands him a loaf of bread.

You look around. All the students are sitting at their respective house tables, and despite the loud buzz of conversation, no one is standing. You know that if you stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, everyone would look at you. Sighing in annoyance, you rest your face on your hand and your elbow on the table, giving up on talking to Wanda during dinner.

When dessert arrives, you become distracted.

//-//

Your best idea is to catch up with Wanda at the end of dinner, but you frown when she doesn't get up from the table along with the other students. The next moment, Professor Erik is joining her, and the crowd of Hufflepuff students pushing you out makes you lose sight of her.

You mumble softly to yourself when you have to go back to the dormitory, and Mantis gives you a short smile, equally annoyed by your nervousness.

//=//

You tried to sleep. Maybe at some point you did.

After you went back to the dorm with everyone else, put on your pajamas and turned off the lights, you think you fell asleep almost immediately. But there was no rest.

The minute you fell asleep, you were somewhere else, fully conscious.

It looked like a graveyard, and there was a lot of smog. You turned over, feeling breathless, and saw a red light, maybe it was a spell. The next moment you woke up, panting, opening your eyes and immediately sitting up in bed. Surprised at the amount of sweat on your shirt, you frowned.

The dormitory was completely dark, and everyone was sleeping around you. You felt thirsty, and as you tried to understand exactly what you had dreamed, you left the room.

The rest of the common room was also empty, and you sighed as an idea crossed your mind. Biting your lips, you shook your head. No, you were not going to sneak through the dormitory into the Slytherin hall, because that was absolutely against all the rules, and more importantly, it would be weird.

Ignoring the sudden urgency you felt to follow your idea, you forced yourself back to your dormitory, hoping that you would be able to sleep again.

//-//

The next day, you had no need to look for Wanda, because she found you first.

As soon as you left for breakfast, accompanied by Mantis, you gasped in surprise as you felt some jump on you just before the entrance to the main hall.

"I missed you." Wanda sighed as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Some students looked at you curiously, but you didn't mind, circling Wanda's waist to return the hug.

"I missed you too." You retorted by hiding your face in her neck, feeling your whole body relax with the scent of her perfume.

But a sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment, and Wanda turned away from you, her cheeks flushed.

"You saw each other last week." Pietro teased with a slight frown on his forehead. He didn't press the matter, however, greeting you afterwards.

You made your way to the Slytherin table, your newly awakened friends looking sleepy as they lazily enjoyed their breakfast.

After greeting everyone, you sat down next to Gamora, who was looking at the daily prophet.

"Not a word about what happened in the Quidditch world cup" She commented indignantly. The group shared the same reaction. "All the news is about the triwizard tournament being held at Hogwarts."

"Maybe they don't want to cause a panic." Quill then reasoned. You knew that he, as well as Mantis, only knew about what happened in the cup because of the letters you and Gamora sent.

"It just seems like they are hiding the truth." Gamora retorts without taking her gaze off the paper. You glance at the figures moving around before turning your attention back to your coffee.

"Clearly corrupt wizarding ministry matters aside, is anyone here going to try to sign up for the tournament?" Quill asked next, causing you to frown as Nebula and Gamora gave a giggle.

"No one here is of age." You comment with confusion, but Quill gives a wry chuckle.

"You Hufflepuff people are adorable." He teases making you laugh. He stretches his arms out to Pietro and Monica's shoulders next as he is sitting between them. "My Gryffindor buddies have found the perfect solution to solve this problem."

You look at the three of them curiously. Gamora rolls her eyes, and turns her attention back to the cereal.

"Let me guess, aging potion?" Nebula then suggests, and Quill lets out an impressed exclamation.

"Look at you Nebula, who would have guessed? I'll make a troublemaker out of you yet." He jokes, but Nebula just raises her middle finger at him, making the rest of the table laugh.

You are slightly distracted because Wanda asked you to pass the jelly to her and your fingers brushed against each other, and you had to keep it together, unaware because the sensation spread a tingle across your skin, so you are startled when Quill lets out an excited exclamation next.

"I just remembered!" He says. "I didn't complain enough about the cancellation of the Quidditch cup between the houses. I was sure Gryffindor would win this year."

Wanda lets out a wry chuckle, and Quill makes a mocking face at her, tossing a piece of bread in her direction.

You like to see your friends like that, playing with each other. The next moment, Mantis asks how Quill intends to get past the goblet spells to put his name on it, and the boy spends the next few minutes arguing that the aging spell is enough to break the enchantment, and your friends seem happy to argue with him about it.

//-//

You're not sure how you're going to tell Wanda that you need to talk to her about the events of the vacations, and the cup, and well, your connection to her, so you ignore the suggestive look Gamora throws at you after coffee and decide to put it off for as long as you can.

Your classes seem to have gotten even harder and more boring, but you struggle. It's even trickier to pay attention when the whole school is excited about the triwizard tournament, and there' a lot of noise between and during the classes, after a while, the teachers give up on calming the moods.

Without Quidditch, you have free periods, and you use this time to spend with your friends, either playing witch chess or explosive snap, or even getting some practice with your broom.

The foreign students get more comfortable as time goes on. You would think that they would be sleeping in one of the dormitories, but they are staying on the ships and in the carriages that they have come on.

The only times you got a glimpse of Beauxbatons' carriages was on the way to the class on the Tract of Magical Creatures, and you weren't the only one trying to get a better look, but the guardian Drax was quick to scare off any curious people who got too close.

With three weeks of classes, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed a lot. You knew it was because the date for choosing champions was approaching, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath about it.

Pietro and Quill actually proceeded with the idea of trying to fool the goblet with an aging potion. You and the girls joined them in the room where the magic object had been placed, and witnessed them try. And fail miserably. Wanda was worried that Pietro had been hurt when he was thrown across the room trying to get through the protective circle, but as soon as she saw his aged face, she laughed, and all the girls followed her.

Pietro and Quill were annoyed for three seconds before they began to laugh as well.

You fell silent the next moment, however, because Jean Grey entered the room accompanied by Headmaster Youndu, both of whom looked at you all reproachfully.

Jean placed a piece of parchment in the flame, and you all watched with some admiration as the goblet accepted her inscription.

The small admiring smile you had on your lip completely disappeared when Jean looked at Wanda on her way out, her gaze flashing in a way that made your stomach turn the wrong way.

When Pietro started talking about how amazing it was to have a famous player at school, you didn't feel excited about the idea anymore.

//-//

After your double period of potions on Thursday the last week of September, you could practically catch the anxious tension of your classmates in the air.

At dinner that night, the school champions would be chosen and even you, who were more concerned about the lack of news from home and the way Tony was clearly avoiding your presence, were curious to know who would be chosen.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved to the center of the main hall and you joined the Hufflepuff table with Mantis, noticing the warning look that Headmistress Okoye cast at anyone who was not behaving in the most chivalrous manner possible, but you didn't remark on it, noticing the wizards wearing formal attire at the teachers' table, probably being employees of the Ministry of Magic and reporters for the Daily Prophet.

A characteristic buzz was going on among the students, but the room fell silent as the students from the other schools entered the hall together with their principals.

When Headmistress Agatha began the selection ceremony, everyone seemed to hold their breath.

"[...] Tonight the goblet will choose the one who is worthy to represent their schools in the triwizard tournament. The ceremony of choice begins now." She gracefully presents, wand in hand. Agatha touches the tip of the goblet next, and the flame on the top changes to red briefly, expelling a piece of parchment through the air. Agatha catches the item between her fingers. "The champion of Durmstrang is Jean Grey."

The room erupts in applause and tears of celebration. You clap happily too, completely forgetting about that day in the hall. You knew that Jean had become quite popular among the Hogwarts gossips, especially since she is already a celebrity, so the reaction of your classmates was not a surprise to you.

You and the rest of the students watched as she accepted the parchment from Agatha before greeting the ministry wizards, and then walked into the small door behind the teachers' desk. As she left, everyone was silent again.

Principal Harkness repeated the wand movement on the goblet, and the flames turned blue again. She paused briefly before announcing the next champion.

"Beauxbatons' champion is Maria Hill!"

You watch a very elegant girl get up from one of the front seats and walk in the same direction as Jean amidst the applause. The commotion is a little less than Grey's, but you know that it is only because Grey was famous.

A moment later it is the turn of the Hogwarts champion, and you are much more excited for this.

Agatha also seems more excited about this, a small smile escaping her lips before she repeats the wand movement.

When the parchment falls into her hands, she reads it aloud.

"The champion of Hogwarts..." She begins and her expression falls, her frown frowning. The brief suspense only makes everyone even more anxious. "Wanda Maximoff."

The crowd's reaction is remarkably different from the other champions; the hall explodes into a buzz of accusations of cheating, pointing out that Wanda was underage, and even snide remarks about a Slytherin representing the school, but you were barely listening. A wave of preoccupation takes over your body completely, and you look around the table for Wanda, but she is already standing up, her chin held high despite all the negative comments. She accepts the parchment Agatha hands her and heads in the same direction as the other champions.

Harkness makes another movement with her wand and the flame from the goblet goes out. In the next second she is leaving the room, being escorted by the other directors and the ministry officials to the Hall of Champions. As soon as the door closes, the hall explodes in agitated hubbub, and many people stand up.

As the teachers call for calm, especially for the Gryffindor students who accuse the Slytherin of cheating, you and Mantis stand up and join your friends.

"I can't believe that just happened." Gamora comments as soon as you reach her, as impressed as she is concerned.

Your gaze searches for Pietro however, and he looks upset.

"Comrade, your sister is the champion of Hogwarts! She managed to do what we were trying to! Why the long face?" Quill asked his friend excited and confused, but when he went to hug Pietro, he pulled away, an angry grimace on his face.

"I can't believe Wanda kept this from me." He grumbled, you and your friends looked at him in surprise.

"Come on Pietro, maybe she didn't think it would work and didn't want to say anything." Quill suggested but the boy shook his head.

"No you don't get it." He retorts. "She absolutely could not have risked doing something like that."

And then he turns away, and heads for the teachers' table. You and your friends are left with puzzled expressions, but upon noticing that he looked like he was going to be talking to his father for quite some time, you return to your conversation.

"I can't believe Wanda didn't tell anyone about putting in the name on the goblet, that's incredible." Quill adds. Nebula begins to argue how dangerous it was for someone without enough magical acquaintance to be in such an ordeal, and your stomach does a turn. You walk away from the conversation, heading toward the group of Tony's friends who were standing a few feet away from you.

"Hey, your friend just caused a stir around here." Tony jokes as soon as you reach him.

"I noticed it." You retort as you spot Professor Strange separating with a spell a student who jumped on top of another. "Everyone is talking about how dangerous it is for her to participate, can you tell me anything good about it?"

Tony laughs at the desperation in your voice.

"I figure eternal glory and the thousand-gallon prize is the good part." He teases, and you run your hands through your hair, trying to ignore the urge to go into that little room and find out if Wanda is okay. Tony assumes a serious expression next, and lowers his tone, not that it was necessary, since everyone seems wrapped up in their own conversations. "You also find it strange that this happens after what happened at the cup, don't you?" He asks and you nod. Tony sighs. "Maybe this is a good time for you to talk to Wanda, little sis. About how you feel about her. And well, maybe as you help her practice for the tournament, you guys can figure out what that connection means."

You nod, feeling your cheeks warm. It was still strange how all your friends knew about the way you cared for Wanda.

You wanted to ask Tony if he had found out anything since you last talked properly, but Professor Strange ordered everyone back to their dormitories the next moment, and after Tony messed up your hair, you turned and headed toward the Hufflepuff students who were leaving the hall.

//-//

There was no way you could sleep without talking to Wanda, so you risked an detention by sneaking out of the dorm after curfew. Mantis grumbled at you to be careful before turning over in her sleepy state, making you laugh softly.

You used a simple invisibility spell on yourself, not so strong that you were completely invisible, but enough to blend into the shadows of the castle as you descended back into the dungeons. Hogwarts was, yes, very scary at that time.

The board at the entrance was sleeping, and after removing the invisibility spell, you poked it with your wand to wake it up.

"What, what is that?" Complained the irritated painting, looking around and acquiring an angry expression when he noticed you.

"I'm sorry. Keep your voice down please." You asked. "I need to get inside."

The painting looked at you suspiciously.

"I have seen you here before, but you are not from the honorable house of Slytherin."

"That is not your problem, Mr. Talos." You retort impatiently. "Just let me in. The password is Polyjuice Potion."

"Your friends will get in trouble if they keep sharing their password with you." Warned the painting before moving, giving you passage to enter.

"Thank you, Mr.Talos." You said with slight irony, walking into the dormitory.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around at the empty environment. You were used to the place, but it was still creepy when poorly lit like this.

"We don't like intruders." Spoke a voice in the corner of the room, making you jump in fright.

"Damn, Nat, you scared the hell out of me." You complained, putting your hand to your chest and feeling your heart racing. The girl giggled, closing the book in her hand and standing up in your direction.

"Why are you here?" she asked with her arms crossed.

You gave her a lopsided smile.

"I came to check on Wanda, of course."

Nat narrowed her eyes at you.

"Why?"

"Why?" you retort after a short laugh. "Because she has just been chosen for the deadliest competition in the wizarding world, and everyone in this place wants to remind me of it!" You exclaim, and can't stop yourself. "I heard a girl say in the hallway that the tournament was banned for the number of deaths! Did you know that? Yeah, neither did I. And well, I can't sleep, because I keep thinking that something like that might happen to Wanda. And when I think about it, I can't breathe and I..."

"Stark, breathe!" Natasha interrupts you with concern, placing her hands on your shoulders. You gasp slightly, realizing that your eyes are filled with tears as you notice your vision blurring. You sigh, trying to normalize your breathing as you force a smile and wipe your face. "God, what was that all about?"

"It was nothing." You grumble. "I'm just worried."

Natasha doesn't buy your excuse, though.

"Tony told me about what happened in the cup." She says as she lowers her arms. You look at her in surprise. "He also told me about how connected to Wanda you have been feeling. I just didn't imagine that you would almost have a little tantrum at the possibility of her getting hurt."

You feel your cheeks flush, looking away to your shoes.

"I didn't have a tantrum."

"Nearly." She teases, but you don't laugh, feeling your stomach churn. Nat looks at you seriously next. "Wanda's not here."

You raise your head in surprise.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know." She replies. "Believe me, you weren't the only one who tried to talk to her. The whole dorm was wanting to know how she tricked the goblet, but no one has seen her since the selection."

You feel your heart soar, and seeing the way you react, Nat raises a hand to your arm again.

"Hey, try not to think about it so much." She says. "Maybe she's with her father. I imagine it's been quite a commotion that a minor has swindled the goblet, and the ministry must be trying to decide what to do. She must be in the teachers' dormitory, she is still a child after all."

"Wanda is already fifteen." You grumble.

"Yes, and I'm sixteen. We're all kids, Y/N." She retorts. "I don't think Professor Lehnsherr was going to leave his daughter alone at such a time."

You sigh, nodding in agreement.

"Try to get some sleep, will you?" Nat asks next. "I'm sure Wanda will talk to you tomorrow. And well, I think she's going to need her best friend to not sleep through the conversation."

"Wanda said I'm her best friend?"

Nat laughs at the way you talk, probably sounding like a lovesick puppy.

"God, you two are a disaster." She comments before waving you toward the exit. You bid her goodnight and thank her before walking back to your dorm.

//-//

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #wandaxyou #wanda x you #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda maximoff x you #wandaxreader #wandamaximoff x reader #wandamaximoff x you #wandamaximoffxreader #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #marvel imagines

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lifenodaijobu · 3 years

Text

Just a little list of my soft Draco obsession

For @vemodalensx

Theres a few here but I’ve left some out since the list was getting a bit long. I might make another list with more.

The list separated between cute Draco and vulnerable Draco just so you can choose whether or not you want a bit of sadness with your softness ^3^

Oh and ofc it goes without saying that the whole list is Bottom Draco hehe

Cute Soft Draco

Flower Crowns (2.4k words)

It started with a single flower 🥀 Draco makes flower crowns for Harry and that is how the whole school finds out about them. A happy dose of Harry with flowers in his hair, and a smitten Draco.

Dreaming of you (21k words)

Harry has nightmares, he wishes for a night when he can sleep without nightmares. What happens when he starts dreaming of Draco Malfoy? Draco left the wizarding world after the war, he's a librarian and lives peacefully in muggle London, what happens when Harry fucking Potter shows up at his work place?

Honey (

Harry is sick of Draco's oh-so-adorable endearments.

The Care and Management of Volatile Veelas

Harry adopts a Veela. He really didn’t mean to.

Quidditch Wife (Part 2)

Theres no real summary for this except for It's got all my favourite guilty pleasures, like protective!Harry and vulnerable!Draco, with a side of jealous!Harry and SportyQuidditch!Harry (and I think the top!Harry rather goes without saying).

All our pieces....fall right into places series

The first story: Draco had had a crush for a while and now that he had Harry in his bed...He was everything that Draco needed.

Trick or Treat

Harry had no idea that he was such a fetishist - a fact which he discovers on Halloween.

Pretty

Harry finds a pair of stockings in the back of their dresser.

The Sweater

After being forced to room together in 8th year, Draco and Harry become friends and decide to continue their living arrangements post Hogwarts. The only problem is, Draco can't seem to stop stealing Harry's clothes.

1095 Roses for a life time

Being woken up by the lips of your boyfriend is always a nice surprise, especially on the morning of yours third anniversary of dating, which leads to hot and passionate morning activity. But all this is just to indulge in themselves, Harry's surprise includes roses and a promise for a lifetime. Will they be the right choice?

Get your kinks out

Harry plays seeker for the Magpies, and he discovers that one of his teammates secretly wears lace panties. What begins as a sexual relationship becomes increasingly complicated by Harry’s fame, Draco’s family, and Harry’s ambivalent feelings about dominating Draco.

Can’t say no

Draco really has the worst friends. When they put a spell on him that he has to say no to everything Harry says.....things don't turn out well.

That time when Harry proposes and gets turned down because of his horrible friends.

What Draco wants

Out of anything a petty fight with Harry Potter could have led to, Draco Malfoy least expected it to end with him bent over a table, questioning his relationship and feelings for Potter, and having the best sex of his life.

Criminal

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit?

Things Change

Harry and Draco's friends notice something different about them when they fight. See what they find out when they walk down an empty hallway.

Whats a little veritasium between two sworn enemies?

Draco Malfoy has a nasty habit of always coming across such bad luck no matter where circumstance presents itself and unfortunately that doesn't seem to change when his bloody nemesis Harry Potter over hears him talking about Veritaserum potions in the hallways past curfew. ( It was Pansy fault really)

Harry wants to know what the Slytherin boy is up to, especially with how nervous Malfoy is, but is that ALL Harry wants to know?

Mr Right Now - side note: Cedric/Draco

What do you do when you're feeling down about your ex? Make him jealous! Story features Cedric Diggory and Draco Malfoy trying to win back their loves, but somehow end up falling into each other's arms

For the love a kitten

With Voldemort Dead, life is not easy for Harry as Old friends become enemies and old enemies become friend. With the return of three Slytherins, Harry life is turned upside down.

How to prepare for a wedding night

I have a neighbour. He is stuck in a loveless relationship and an arranged marriage. He has zero experience in bed. He needs my help so that his love life won't suck for the next few decades. He needs a sex teacher. Oh... and the neighbour happens to be Draco freaking Malfoy. And I might be a little tiny bit in love with the git...

Draco's Scent

In which Harry can't be around Draco for long without the boy's stupid smell messing with his mind, and he really, really hates that.

Turn The Heat Up

Wonky Cooling Charms result in interesting revelations

Flirt

Draco and Hermione make a devastating duo at the Ministry as the respective Department Heads of Wizarding Culture Preservation and Muggle Relations. When Harry Potter gets involved in their latest joint project, Draco can’t seem to stop himself from constantly flirting with him even when it doesn’t seem to affect the golden boy at all. He’s wrong. Harry is most definitely affected. Includes Slytherin shenanigans, Draco sucking at quidditch, and Harry trying not to be charmed. Draco POV.

Angsty/Vulnerable Soft Draco

The Draco Malfoy incident - side note: I cried big time

Draco Malfoy is best friends with a Hufflepuff. A HUFFLEPUFF! He's also partnered with a redhead git, trying to hide from an obsessive green-eyed saviour and has become overly fond with sunrises. It's exhausting. Can't a man plan an assassination in peace around here?

I’m not in your dreams

Draco has dreamt with Harry's voice since he was fourteen, so there's no doubt for him about who his soulmate is. Now, in their Eighth Year, Harry has finally dreamt with his soulmate's voice too. The problem is that Draco was born mute.

Yours for the taking

Draco was raised to be the perfect Omega, but there are things even he cannot endure. When he discovers just what Tom Riddle's plans for him are once he's claimed him he is confronted with an impossible decision. Only one thing remains clear: he will never be able to go back home.

Luckily, Harry Potter is there to save the day

Rough on you - side note: Dark Harry. This is more vulnerable Draco than soft Draco so please read the tags before you start the story :) I was unsure whether I wanted to add this here but hey-ho

"I'm the only one that can give you want you really want." Harry spun Draco around and held his arms at his side and he pressed against his back, whispering against his throat. "That can force you, that can humiliate you… that can hurt you, and you want it. You want me."

Harry is having a bad day. Draco just cannot learn to keep his mouth shut. Neither of them would have predicted it would lead to this.

But who guards the dragon?

This is an expansion of my one-shot, It'll be Okay. You don't have to read it first, it will be in the story. Requested. DMHP Sub/Dom relationship. Slash. Don't like, don't read. Harry thinks a few thinks through, then comes into his creature inheritance. He finds out that he is the dominant mate to one Draco Malfoy. But things are never easy for the boy who lived

Taken For Granted

Having pined for Harry for long enough, Draco decided that it was time to give up and move on. What happens when Harry realizes too late what he's lost?

Mourning

Harry returns to school to complete his NEWTs. There he finds a much changed Draco Malfoy and surprisingly subdued Professor Snape.

In your arms, rests my world

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Inside your mind

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

"I'll Protect You," and you can seal that with an Unbreakable Vow

His friends may tease but Harry doesn't feel bad for keeping a close eye on the Slytherin boy of one Draco Malfoy, after all someone has to do it. So when Harry secretly follows the pure-blood boy out past the courtyard, there's nothing strange or unusual about it; nor is it wrong.

Unfortunately the same can not be said for the scenario Harry accidentally stumbles upon as he can't help but stare in horror. It's not just wrong. It's absolutely despicable and Harry, well, Harry just has to do something about it.

A Big Black Sky

Draco shifts his head as he turns to look at Scorpius, his cheek touching the pillow. "Did you know that…" He pauses, his throat convulsing, and it sounds audible in the silence, besides Michael's steady, even breathing from the other bedroom.

Scorpius is staring back at him, in wait of something new to learn, a beautiful and intelligent child. He has Draco's mind. He has Draco's eyes and nose and mouth and hair. He is his. All his. All he has of Michael are his wild curls and the green of his eyes, and sometimes he looks into them and imagines that they aren't Michael's, but someone else's.

Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky."

Song To Say Goodbye

Draco should have remembered that life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. Somewhere along the way he forgot to always be careful and was left with nothing. It was hard enough getting himself together the first time, can he do it again?

Small spoiler for Song to Say Goodbye below

Its not Drarry Endgame: he ends up with a OMC cuz Harrys a big dickhead

#soft draco #cute draco #vulnerable draco #draco malfoy #harry potter #bottom draco #drarry #fic rec #drarry fic rec

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mellifluousmalfoy · 4 years

Text

violet. // fred weasley x reader.

i’m so so so sorry this took so long, i’ve had the absolute worst case of writer’s block and it’s taking me decades to sift through these requests!! thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for taking years to write this @helloallthethingsilove <33

warning(s): cuss words, and the tiniest pinch of angst i swear.

word count; 3.5k

okay, maybe this is a slight spin-off to flower curse, but you don’t have to read it to read this.

in which you share the same injuries with your soulmate.

“Calm down, [L/N],”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s a downright git is what he is.” I was fuming.

“Who does he think he is to just up and leave me here? I mean, after everything we’ve been through together, I’d assume he’d had said something to me, don’t you agree?” My dorm mates simply rolled their eyes. According to the letter my boyfriend had left me, this outburst was completely spontaneous.

Spontaneous my arse. I had watched him sneak off with his brother and best friend, whispering for the past week or two. He had every chance to tell me yet now he’s run off, only left me a letter with his reasoning.

Lee, poor Lee, had heard the bitter half of my wrath, promising me he would try his best to get hold of my idiot of a boyfriend. Heck, I could just feel they were experimenting with their newest products to come because I was sporting a yellow bruise on the side of my thigh and it was growing immensely painful.

Fred Weasley, you’re going to suffer for this.

Merlin, the thought of him was bringing tears to my eyes. This was the Yule Ball all over again. The git had ditched me that night, but he came back. He always did come back. The fear bloomed in my stomach knowing that this time, this time he wouldn’t be coming back. He said so in his letter, he wouldn’t be returning so as long as that cow of a professor was still here.

I huffed, standing to leave the common room. Being Fred Weasley’s soulmate was a big joke that Merlin or whoever was playing on me, yet it brought to me my best memories. My stomach sank, he was gone.

I bit back the tears that threatened to escape and muttered an excuse to my dorm mates before turning to leave, praying they wouldn’t follow me because I knew they were worried for me. I grumbled to myself as I left the common room, weaving through the halls towards the library.

I sighed contently when I saw the library was rather empty. I tore my bag off my shoulder and settled down into a desk. My arse of a boyfriend may have left, but I still had important exams that would determine my life to complete.

Hogsmeade was busy as always, bustling with students in third year and up, some on dates, some stuck to the side of their friends. I looked around the streets, it was slowly getting warmer as summer approached and I was thanking the heavens for that. I tried to spot the bright red head of hair that was apparently waiting for me.

Lee had managed to get a hold of his best friend and arranged for us to meet in Hogsmeade.

Walking through the excited sea of students, I tried to manoeuvre through the crowd when I spotted an oh so familiar head of hair. I picked up my pace and headed towards the tall gangly male.

He caught sight of me struggling through the crowd and threw me the cheekiest smile he could muster, only to be met with a glare.

Once I got through the crowd, I basically stomped towards the idiot. He held his arms open, expecting a hug only to be met with a hit to his stomach, which would cause both of us to most definitely sport a good bruise.

He winced at the impact and groaned, “What was that for?”

I simply glared at him and straightened my back, staring down at his hunched figure, “Is that really what you’re asking me, you idiot?”

He straightened up at my tone and knew he was definitely in trouble, “Look,” he paused, shifting uncomfortably in his jacket, “I’m sorry, it really was-”

“Cut the spontaneous bullshit, Weasley.” He frowned at my cold tone and I tried my best not to cry. I may have sounded brave now, but I was seconds from crying. I held my breath as I tried my best not to sound vulnerable, “Why couldn’t you have told me?”

I wanted to curse myself for sounding so small, and his frown softened. He removed his gaze from the floor to meet my sad eyes, and I could see the guilt filling his eyes, “I didn’t expect you to be this upset.”

“Then what did you expect, Fred?” He seemed to relax at my use of his first name and took a hesitant step toward me, “How would you feel if I just upped and left with only a letter as an explanation? I still don’t see why you didn’t tell me, so I could have prepared myself a bit better for the time you did leave.” I nibbled on my bottom lip, a stray tear gliding down my cheek which I quickly wiped with the sleeve of my jumper.

I shook my head when he went to take another step towards me, continuing to speak my innermost demons, “If this is a thing about trust-”

“Don’t be daft,” he was quick to cut me off, and I knew my words were wrong, but feelings took over my brain and I couldn’t stop myself.

“For me, it is Fred. This terrifies me, and you can’t blame me for thinking you would do this once we are finished with school.”

“This is different, I have a reason to leave. You know that.” His voice was stern, different from the silly tone he held before, and his eyes were cold.

“Do I?” The question rang in the air and the tears never seemed to stop coming, “Maybe this isn’t for the best. Maybe we-”

“No, you cannot do this. Not now.” He shook his head, his stern tone replaced by confusion. His eyes were begging me, begging for the truth. He knew I was lying to not only him, but myself.

“Fred, I can’t trust you.” It was a lie. I trusted this man with my life yet I continued to lie to him. He knew I was lying to him, it was my turn to beg. Beg for him to tell me I’m silly and to stop lying, to save our relationship. But he only nodded.

“Sure, okay then.”

“A break.” I left the statement out in the air. I wanted to slap myself across the face, to scream at myself and to ask what exactly I was doing, to try and knock some sense into myself. Yet, I continued to push myself away from the man I wanted and needed most. And he let me.

“If things work out, we’ll meet again someday,”

“And if they don’t?”

I didn’t answer his question, the answer was something that I was terrified of. Losing Fred was something that scared me beyond comprehension, yet here I was, making my worst fears come true.

“Just forget about it, Fred.”

“And just what should I forget about?” I wanted to physically stop myself from speaking, stop myself from hurting this man anymore. I wanted to snap out of it because the hurt in his voice, it wasn’t worth all of this pain. The tears that seemed to fill his eyes wasn’t worth all this, yet I continued.

“Us.”

I wanted him to call me stupid like he always did, to pull me by my elbow and hold me against his chest like he always did. I hated myself for hurting him, it was the last thing I had wanted to do. My mouth wouldn’t stop running, completely ignoring the conversations I played in my head the night before, the ones where I would hug him and tell him I missed him, the ones where I’d jab him on the shoulder and he would hug me and apologise, but instead I was a complete idiot.

My tears wouldn’t stop when I turned to leave, and they only seemed to increase when I knew he wouldn’t run after me. I pushed him far enough away from me that he wouldn’t run after me, and I hated myself beyond belief for it.

A year or so later.

Summer was hitting hard surprisingly.

Summer in the UK never seemed to be hot, but this year it was striking down, particularly in my tiny area of England. Although, summer never seemed to be a fun time, especially if Fred was no longer in the mix. Heck, even my family was upset we were no longer together, they owed him my life in so many ways.

Ever since the summer before our sixth year, he was a regular visitor in our house, so much so my parents had let him stay on more than one occasion. My mother always seemed to make the wedding jokes, but the underlying tone made it obvious she was far from joking.

Merlin, I missed him so bloody much.

Graduating Hogwarts was difficult. All the years spent there were now becoming insignificant, the gossips in our houses were barely thought about now. Some say a burden is lifted from your shoulders after graduating, but the burden of being an adult, finding a job and eventually moving out of my family home was heavier than school could ever be.

Surprisingly, the bruises seemed to decrease over time, and it seems as though the experimentation period had been long done, and seeing a glimpse of their shop whenever I went to work, I knew they had achieved their lifelong goal.

Working as a wandmaker had always been my dream, and I only ever confided in one person, and now he wanted nothing to do with me. Garrick Ollivander had agreed to let me be his apprentice and I had been working with him until the store was in ruins mere days ago. Working under such an incredible craftsman was more than I could ever ask for, (perhaps I had to thank my father’s status for that), but I couldn’t find it in myself to be excited, relieved that I had my life set out for me.

Something was itching in the back of my mind. The letter Dumbledore had given me days before his death remained unopened on my bedside table, and I tried to convinced myself it wasn’t important. But Dumbledore himself had handed me the letter, how could it not be important.

It’s been months since I was given the letter yet it still remained untouched.

I grumbled, cursing myself for not having any more restraint, and I walked back into my house and upstairs into my room. The letter was glaring at me, the red wax begging to be opened.

I hesitated for a moment before approaching my bedside table, ripping the letter open before I could second think about the situation.

My stomach flipped at the contents of the letter, Dumbledore had asked me to join the Order of The Phoenix, guessing I already knew about the elite group, and I did. Fred always told me everything- well he used to. Of course the man knew I wouldn’t open the letter until the last moment, because the date of the meeting and the date he had given me the letter were aeons apart, yet he knew.

The date of the meeting was etched right in the centre, and I knew this was it. The someday I had mentioned to Fred, and if he was willing to have me again, I was willing to give my all to him.

I second checked my bags, it seemed that I needed more than just an overnight bag from what Dumbledore had said in the letter, and I packed as much. I made sure I had my wand and any other important things before stepping into my fireplace, reading out the name of the place Dumbledore had written in the letter and threw the floo powder, letting the flames engulf me.

I was met by a warm living room and a Mrs Weasley who seemed to be fluffing the pillow before she snapped around and welcomed me into her arms. I smiled into the hug she gave me and greeted her, “It’s lovely to see you too, Mrs Weasley. But I would love to move my bags if I could please,”

“Oh! I’m sorry dear! Let me get out your way. Don’t be ridiculous, one of the boys will take it off your hands.” And then she bellowed out the boys’ names in the loudest voice she could muster before turning back to me with her signature smile, “Tea? Coffee, dear?”

“No, thank you. All I really want is to sit down for a bit if that’s alright.” I was exhausted, I hardly slept the night before because all I could think about was Fred. Ron sneaked around his mother to grab my bags off my hands and disappeared into the doorway he came through, only giving me an awkward smile as he did so.

“Yes, yes settle down, love. I’ll show you to the kitchen, ‘S where the rest of the Order are.” I could tell the older witch was itching to ask me something from the way she kept glancing at me as we walked down the long hall to the kitchen, “Dumbledore did say you would come around, we’ve been waiting for you for years, dear.”

I wasn’t surprised as to what she said to me, I knew Dumbledore had known I would come around later from the date in the later, I was more shocked at the fact she had said ‘we’, who else had been waiting for me?

The Order was bustling full of Weasleys, they were everywhere, and I was quite surprised to see Bill here. I had met Bill at one of the few Christmases he had come home, and it seemed like he never came home, not as much as Charlie at least.

I looked around the room expectantly, hoping to see Fred amongst the crowd but came up with nothing, only meeting the awkward eyes of George, who oddly seemed apologetic. Merlin, why couldn’t he dislike me? I broke his brother’s heart along with my own.

I sat down into the seat Molly had pulled out for me and suppressed a groan as I settled into the comfortable chair. The room seemed to grow quiet, some staring at the door, some staring at me. I knew he was here now and I tried to fight the urge to glance at the door yet it was useless.

I looked at him and it seemed he only got more handsome over the two years I hadn’t seen him. He no longer had those boyish features, only boyish charms. His face seemed more sculpted and he looked more built. Merlin, how could I have ever left this man.

I held the edge of my seat in my hand, tight enough for my knuckles to turn white. His brown eyes met mine, and I had expected them to be cold but this was different. He seemed completely isolated as his eyes met mine, the smile that was on his face was fading now.

Before I could even understand what happened, he was dragging me by the wrist down the halls, through doors until we settled at what seemed to be his room.

“What are you doing here?” His hand had never let go of my wrist and I was more than focused on it. I had missed his touch so much that this gave me multiple serotonin boosts at once, electricity was radiating off his hold and it was all I could focus on.

“Dumbledore invited me,” I could barely mutter the three words as I looked into his eyes. His walls were so high I couldn’t break them down if I tried, and I knew they had to come down willingly or this would all be lost.

“It’s been so long,” His words held so much weight. He was aware, we were both aware that we had both done some serious growing up which we needed, and maybe we didn’t know each other so well anymore.

“I missed you.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I adverted my stare to the wooden floor below us. I couldn’t lie anymore, I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. I never wanted to tell a lie to him again because it always came with pain. My words stayed in the air in a way that I hated. Did he not miss me?

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling me by the wrist he still held and towards his chest, “I missed you too.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed my face into his neck, and I knew, this was our someday. This was our time, we had grown as people and now we could go back to each other. We were no longer dumb 17-year-olds who thought they knew what they were doing, we were older and much wiser.

Fred sniffled into my hair and I realised the idiot was crying, but I couldn’t deny that I was too, “Is this our someday?”

His question came out as a whisper and I dug myself further into his jacket, “This is most definitely our someday, Freddie.”

Being with Fred during a war was almost impossible, yet we managed. Our houses were reconnected by floo and he frequented at my home once again, much to my parents’ pleasure.

The war. It was here now, it was inevitable yet I wanted to avoid it, to spend more time with Fred as selfish as it sounded.

The castle was now in ruins. The sanctuary of all the students was now crumbling.

I looked around the castle, ran through the wrecked halls trying to find Fred. We had both been assigned to two different parts of the castle to protect, yet I couldn’t stop myself from having to see him. Something was wrong, I could feel it.

The world felt as though it was slowing down as I deflected the spells dark wizards had been throwing from left and right, throwing back my own curses on the way.

My steps were getting slower over time, and as I neared his part of the castle I knew nothing was right in that moment. My ears were ringing, no longer being able to hear my surroundings.

I couldn’t hear Percy, but I could see he was screaming, crying. And it was over Fred’s body. The whole world seemed to cave in on me. This must have been some joke, a big joke the world was playing on me. There was no way in Merlin’s name he was gone. He couldn’t have been. He had promised me he would never leave me again.

My feet seemed to drag along the floor as I approached them. Percy, who heard my approach, snapped his head towards me, holding out his wand until he saw who it was. Merlin, the man was wrecked. I could barely breathe once I reached his side, “This must be some joke, Weasley.”

My voice was hoarse, my throat running dry as I tried my best to compose myself, “You promised, Fred! You promised you’d never leave my side without telling me! Even leaving a letter behind would mean much more than this.”

My heartbeat was banging against my ears, and I realised. What did this mean for the soulmate link? Death was knocking at my door, I could tell. All I had to do was open the bloody door.

I sunk to the floor crying, no longer being able to hold myself up. I was dying, and I wanted to. Percy remained silent as he watched the life drain from my face.

It happened so quickly. I hadn’t expected death to consume me so quick. The last picture in my mind before my body fell limp was his smile, the genuine one he held whenever he was happy, not that cheeky smirk, not that sheepish grin, but that big happy smile.

It was warm. I felt as though I was floating on a bed of clouds as I refused to open my eyes, to wake up from my sleep.

The sleep I had just woken up from was so good and I hadn’t felt this good after a sleep in what felt like years, and in all honesty that was probably true.

“Love, come on it’s time to wake up,”

“Five more minutes, Fred.” I yawned, turning away from his voice, digging my face into the blanket that was draped over me.

“You said that ten minutes ago, love.”

“And what about it?” I asked, turning my head back toward him. It seemed as though I was dreaming, surely he wasn’t truly here. And so I thought of this as a dream and conversed with him like I always did.

“I have to show you around, don’t I?” I could tell from his voice that he was smiling, and it made me want to return it. I finally opened my eyes and met his own warm brown ones, he seemed so real, “Good morning, lovely.”

“G’morning, Freddie.” The smile that itched at the corner of my mouth took over and I beamed up at him. I had never felt so happy to be in his presence, but what he said earlier rung in my ears, “What do you mean by showing me around?”

“Well,” he paused to press a kiss to my forehead, “it’s not every day you meet your soulmate in the afterlife.”

#harry potter #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter x male reader #harry potter x gender neutral reader #fred weasley x male reader #fred weasley x gender neutral reader

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omgrachwrites · 3 years

Text

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Twenty

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, character death, tiny bit of fluff.

Words: 2671

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me, and I’m sorry for the gif I used!

A/N: So here we are at the end! Thank you so much for supporting me with this fic and I'm sorry for this chapter, I kept James and Lily alive to make this part even more sad! This was actually going to end in such an angst filled way but I didn’t want to do that to you guys, though I might write the alternate ending at some point! Hope you guys all enjoy and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Twenty - Wherever You Are

Dread coiled in your stomach that fateful morning as you got yourself dressed and pinned your hair. Reggie was sleeping soundly, letting out little snuffles but still, you picked him up and nuzzled your nose into his fine dark hair as you felt the tears build up behind your eyes. You weren’t aware that you could possibly cry as much as you had done, there were little red rashes beneath your eyes where the salt from your tears had irritated your skin. Your heart seemed to be in a constant state of pain as your husband awaited his trial.

This trial should not be even happening, you were appalled at how James had arrested Sirius for treason, “we’ll be alright, little one,” you whispered to your baby boy, “papa isn’t a traitor, he’s a good man,” you pressed a kiss to Reggie’s little forehead.

James was originally going to hold Sirius’ trial the day after Halloween, but Lily had convinced him otherwise, Lily knew that you wanted nothing more than to be at Sirius’ side. So, the King relented and allowed a few days for you to recover after giving birth to Reggie. Unfortunately, it meant that Sirius would have to spend more time locked in the tower but you knew that Sirius understood.

“Y/N?” a soft warm voice came from the doorway and you looked over with blurred vision to see Andromeda who was smiling at you kindly, “I think the King and Queen are ready to start, I’ll look after the children, because they shouldn’t have to be subjected to such an event.”

You nodded with a sniffle as you placed Reggie into her open, waiting arms, “thank you so much. Are you not coming to the trial?” you muttered, feeling like a shell of yourself.

Andromeda shook her head with a sad smile, “I can’t watch that happen to him, I can’t. He’s not just my cousin, he’s my best friend. I’m so sorry that I can’t be there for you both; I know that he’s not the traitor, he would never betray us. Never. I don’t know what James is thinking having him arrested.”

“You are so amazing, Andromeda, we are so blessed to have you in our lives and we appreciate you so much,” you tried to smile but you feared that it came out as more of a grimace.

Andromeda leaned forward to kiss your cheek with a sweet sad smile, “whatever happens today, it’s been an honour to serve two people who are completely made for each other, two people who are soulmates. Good luck.”

You felt tears sliding down your cheeks, stinging at your sensitive skin, you adored Andromeda, you couldn’t have got by without her, “let’s just hope that the King sees sense and does the right thing. He must know that his best friend could never do this to him, he just wants someone to blame, he sees enemies where there are friends, and it’ll be his undoing,” you mumbled with a tight smile as you departed from your chambers.

You would never admit it out loud but you had a strange sense of foreboding, a horrible feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but feel that something was going to go dreadfully wrong.

As you made your way to the Throne Room where the trial was being held, you just couldn’t understand why on Earth James would believe that Sirius was a traitor. What had happened to make him believe that? Snape was already in the dungeons for committing treason. Under coercion, he had admitted that he had been working for Voldemort but apparently he had told him nothing of the prophecy. You supposed that he had to be lying, he just had to be. According to Lily, the evidence they had against Sirius was damning but it was a lie or a set up, it just had to be.

The atmosphere was heavy and full of dread as you walked into the Throne Room and Lily gave you a brave smile from where she stood at James’ side. James had a grim tight look on his face; the King that you had first met a few springs ago was kind and benevolent. That King was no more, it seemed like his heart had hardened.

Your heart broke when the guards roughly dragged Sirius into the room, showing him no mercy. The past few days that he’d spent in the Tower had seemed to age him considerably, his eyes were starting to take on a haunted look but they softened when he looked at you. You tried to offer him a small smile.

As Sirius was pushed to his knees before the King, James glared at him as he produced a letter, “you’ll remember writing this, I bet,” he snarled and began to read the letter out loud “’Lord Voldemort, in regards to my last letter, you will now know how to break Dumbledore’s enchantments. There are underground caverns and a secret entrance on the West side of the castle. They will lead you into the royal chambers and you can complete your work. Your faithful servant, Sirius Black, Duke of Bedford.”

James tossed the chilling letter at Sirius’ feet, “if it hadn’t been for Peter telling us of the conversation he overhead you having then we would be dead. We managed to prepare and we managed to defeat Voldemort when he came after us. We were supposed to be your friends, your sovereigns. How could you do this to us? How could you plot to kill our son?”

“But, I didn’t!” Sirius shouted, “I didn’t have a conversation of this nature with anybody! I didn’t write that letter, I wouldn’t!”

“Then how do you explain the fact that your seal is on the letter?!” James demanded.

You saw Sirius’ face falter for just a moment and you almost winced, hoping that James didn’t catch it, “my seal was stolen.”

“A likely story,” Remus spoke up, his voice breaking and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Where is Peter? He’s lying to you! I saw him sneaking around the castle with a hooded figure!”

“Of course,” James mockingly slapped a hand to his forehead, “blaming the victim is the right thing to do, you’re just trying to save your own skin. Peter was found dead in the hallways, shortly after he came to warn us of your plan.”

You barely managed to conceal a gasp, Peter was dead? “I didn’t kill him,” Sirius whispered, “I was with my wife who was giving birth to our third child!” he glanced at you and you gave him an encouraging nod.

James looked at you before looking back at Sirius, narrowing his eyes, “the midwife says that you left a couple of hours after the birth, around the time that Peter was murdered, he was killed with your ruby encrusted dagger.”

Sirius swallowed nervously, “I lost that dagger shortly after coming back from our last battle with Voldemort,” that was the truth, you remembered Sirius lamenting after its loss. It was clear that someone was setting him up. Why didn’t James see that? “And the reason for my leaving? It was because I went to see if my twins were awake so they could meet their baby brother!”

“And on the way back, you saw an opportunity to kill Peter!” it was clear that James was hitting Sirius hard with the accusations in the hope that Sirius would confess.

“No!” Sirius took a deep breath, “you’re my best friend, you always have been and I would never do anything to hurt you or your family because you’re my family too, please, you have to believe me,” the tone of Sirius’ voice was pleading but James looked unmoved, which annoyed you.

“The evidence is damning, Sirius. It was your seal, your letter and your dagger, you had the means to kill Peter and betray us. What did you think would happen? Did you think Voldemort would put you on the Throne when he killed us?” James hissed but Sirius said nothing but you could see that he was crying you just wanted to hold him. James glanced over to you, “we found no evidence that Y/N was involved,” cold dread shot through your body and your vision blurred.

“She had nothing to do with any of this,” Sirius glanced at you with tear soaked cheeks and the small smile that he gave you broke your heart.

James nodded, offering you a sympathetic look, “then I’m sorry that you’re married to a traitor,” anger boiled in your veins at James’ words and it was an effort to keep your face straight. He glanced back at Sirius, “Sirius Black, I absolve you of your lands and titles; you are no longer the Duke of Bedford. I charge you with treason and I sentence you to hang by the neck until dead,” Lily gasped in surprise as she looked at her husband.

You felt like you were going to be sick and you rushed forwards to kneel at James’ feet, taking Sirius’ hand in yours, “please, Your Majesty, I beg you, don’t kill him! Think of the children, please,” tears streamed down your cheeks and Lily shot James a meaningful look.

James sighed and bowed his head, glaring at Sirius, “very well, you have an amazing wife who begs for your life even though you’re a traitor,” Sirius just looked at the floor and in that moment you hated James for hurting him. You couldn’t imagine how hard it was to endure this from his best friend, “you’re going to spend the rest of your life in a cell. Take him away,” he nodded to the guards.

You cried out in anguish as the guards began to drag your beautiful husband away. How were you going to live without him? “I love you, Sirius.”

Sirius choked on his tears, “I love you too, and please remember me!”

“Of course!” you sobbed.

You didn’t even get to kiss him one last time; you would never forgive James for breaking up your family. Sirius was innocent; you would bet your life on it.

-----------------

Over the next couple of years that Sirius spent in the Tower, he was full of despair and anger, he couldn’t quite believe that James had locked him away; he couldn’t understand why James hadn’t believed him. How could James think that Sirius could ever hurt his friends? What hurt the most was the fact that he couldn’t see the love of his life or his children, the pain was almost unbearable. He couldn’t even see the grounds from the tiny window in his cell so he couldn’t even catch the slightest glance of Y/N.

In that dank, dark cell Sirius was all alone, he was practically withering away. He wanted his wife and he wanted his children. Reggie had only been a couple of days old when Sirius had been thrown into the Tower, Reggie wouldn’t even remember him.

The guards were particularly cruel; they told Sirius everything that was happening at court. They had told him that the King was forcing Y/N to remarry so she wouldn’t bring shame upon England because she was the wife of a traitor. Sirius had been close to throwing up at this news and he died inside, the knowledge that someone else was going to love his wife killed him inside. A few weeks later, the guards grumbled as they told Sirius that the man that Y/N was supposed to marry had died in a hunting accident. It sounded awful but at the sound of that news, Sirius could breathe again.

10 Years Later

Sirius was rudely awakened by the guards pounding on the bars of his cell, their voices filled with glee, “oi! Wake up, you have some visitors,” Sirius groaned and walked over to the bars to see the guards leering faces, “best make it a good goodbye, you’ll never see your family again after today. Your pretty little wife is going to marry the Austrian Prince.”

The pain that shot through Sirius’ chest almost made his knees buckle and tears stung at his eyes, he backed away from the bars so his family could enter. The breath was stolen from his lungs when his family walked into the cell and the door was closed behind them. Y/N was so beautiful and his children were growing up, and he’d missed it all.

“Sirius!” Y/N cried out as she ran to him and Sirius gathered her up in his arms, after 12 years, she was in his arms again. Once more, she was breathing life back into him, “I’ve missed you so much I love you,” she sobbed into his chest before she cupped his face and drew him into a passionate kiss, her tears running over his lips.

“I missed you too, I missed all of you, I love you,” he pressed his forehead against hers, grinning for the first time in 12 years, it was a wonder that he still remembered how to, he looked at his beautiful children with a smile as Elena and Johnathan ran into his arms, their faces bright with recognition. Reggie smiled at him with a blank look on his face but there was love in his eyes, “look at you three, all grown up.”

“We wish you could have been there, father,” Reggie smiled before hesitantly walking towards him and pulling him into a hug. Sirius smiled as he hugged his son tightly, “it’s good to meet you,” Reggie whispered.

Sirius’ smile dropped a second later when he remembered why they were there, “you’re marrying a Prince? Congratulations.”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a giggle and she lowered her voice so the guards wouldn’t hear, “I am never going to marry another, Lily and James just thinks that I am. The Prince doesn’t want to marry me either, he prefers the company of men,” she blushed, “but he believes you’re innocent, he’s a good man.”

“He believes I’m innocent?” Sirius asked, feeling gobsmacked, he was also elated that Y/N wasn’t going to remarry.

“Yes, and he wants to help, we’re getting you out of here tonight, we’ve got a ship leaving the docks at midnight, the Prince will give us sanctuary in Austria.”

Sirius was excited to get out of here, to feel the sun on his skin again, breaking him out of his cell would be dangerous but he glad that Y/N had an ally, but there was something that bothered him, “you’re coming with me? I don’t want to ruin your lives.”

Johnathan sighed as he rolled his eyes, “come on father, we’re going wherever you do. We’re not letting you go alone.”

“But you’ll always be having to hide, that’s no life for you, any of you,” Sirius bit his lip; he wanted to believe that it was possible but it just wasn’t.

Elena took his hand, “papa,” she whispered, “we love you and we’re a family. We’ve been apart for 12 years; you’re insane if you think we’re not going with you. We want to know you and for you to know us.”

Sirius teared up and sniffled as he looked over at his wife who grinned and cupped his cheeks, “we’ll be here an hour before midnight, the guards won’t be a problem. Leave them to us, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grinned and kissed Y/N deeply before hugging all of his children in turn, excited to be in the world again. The plan was set and at midnight, he was successfully on a ship with his family by his side and a strong ally at his back. This wasn’t how he thought his life was going to be, he never thought he would be running from James’ court but here he was. They were going to be okay. Sirius was free, they were all free, and most importantly, they were together.

-Fin-

-----------------

@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @siriuslyjanhvi @pregnant-piggy @lindatreb @mabelle-cherie @hxrgreeves @britishspidey @mads-bri @classicrocketqueen @sxtansqueen @hufflepuffzutara @potters-heart @bruxa0007 @ourstarsailor @fific7 @galwithbluethoughts @2410slb @sunles @krismeunicornbaobei @theincredibledeadlyviper @deathkat657 @lonegryffindor2005 @writing-your-heart-out

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edie-k · 3 years

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Greener Pastures (Lavender Brown/Mystery Character, Romione, Hinny, Deamus, PG-13)

Title: Greener Pastures

Pairing: Lavender Brown/Mystery Character, Romione, Hinny, Deamus, Past Lavender/Ron, Past Lavender/Seamus

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: At Harry and Ginny's engagement party, Lavender bemoans her single status to a mystery man.

Author's Note: Well, here's an obscure ship for you. Thanks to @adenei for her feedback and kind words!

*************

“I think that proves that for all the complaining I’ve done, Harry, I mean it when I say you are the only one I thought was good enough for my sister,” Ron said from the front of the room, to a chorus of laughter. “So let’s raise a glass to the newly engaged couple!”

From her seat at the bar, Lavender made a face and threw back the remaining contents of her tumblr. Parvati, who was seated next to her, joined the crowd in applauding and cheering Harry and Ginny.

Click below to read more or read at AO3

“That was a nice speech,” commented Parvati.

“Oh, just the best,” muttered Lavender, trying to catch the bartender’s eye.

Parvati shook her head. “I just spotted Adam’s sister. I wanted to ask her about what the expectations are for dress code and stuff at his grandmother’s. All Adam said when I asked him was ‘Whatever’s fine.’ We’re going abroad to meet an entire side of your family I have never met in all the time we’ve been together and you’re telling me whatever is fine.”

“Mmm hmm,” Lavender said, still trying to signal for a drink.

“Are you going to be okay if I-”

“Yes, yes,” said Lavender, sighing. “I’m fine. Sorry if I’m being a drag. Just… that news earlier and then all this… happiness. Go get the dish from Mara so we can go shopping tomorrow.”

Parvati squeezed her friend’s arm before hopping off the stool and wading through the crowd to find Mara. The bartender finally made his way over to her and began to mix her another drink without a word.

At least Adam was out of town on business for the weekend so Lavender didn’t have to third wheel with her best friend and her boyfriend. Because that would have been the only thing more depressing than going to an engagement party with your platonic best friend.

The bartender nudged the glass back to her and she nodded her head in thanks as he made his way back down the bar.

“Is this seat taken?”

Lavender glanced up and met the gaze of a man she’d never seen before.

“Uh, no, be my guest,” she said. “Although be warned that I am shitty company.”

The man chuckled as he sat down on the stool. “I highly doubt that but I’m game to find out.”

Lavender looked at him again. She didn’t recognize him, which was shocking because even though the venue was full, Lavender had thought she would know everyone here. Harry and Ginny were obviously incredibly popular so they had kept tight controls on who was included on the guest list.

The man signaled for the bartender and Lavender took the opportunity to give him a once over. The guy was huge - not in an overweight or bodybuilder type way. He was just tall and solid. Other than her first boyfriend, her preference was tall guys. She was 5”8’ herself and preferred to wear heels when she could so aesthetically, it was nice for her companion to have some height. Nice eyes, cute face. He had dark blond hair and was dressed in a dark blue Muggle button down shirt and black trousers with no robes. Since the war had ended, Muggle style had become popular with the wizards in her age group. Harry, who was raised by Muggles, was always more comfortable in that style of clothing and Ron, who she knew was dressed primarily by Hermione and Hermione’s mum, followed suit. And whatever that little Trio did, everyone else did and for Merlin’s sake, Ron Weasley was now a fucking fashion icon. Lavender took a big swig of her drink.

“It’s a nice party,” said the man. Lavender nodded as the bartender approached. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

The bartender made another drink before placing it in front of the man. He went to reach for his pocket when Lavender noticed a look of panic cross his face. Before she could say anything, the bartender waved him away. “Mr. Potter has the tab covered tonight.”

“Well,” he said, his face relaxed again. He turned back to Lavender. “Should we follow Red’s instructions and toast the happy couple?” The two clinked glasses. “It was a nice speech.”

Lavender snorted.

“You disagree?”

“I’d have thought his wife wrote it for him but there was too much swearing for her to have had a hand,” Lavender said. Then she wiped the palms of her hands down her face. “Ugh, ignore me. It actually was a very touching and funny speech. I’m just in an ugly mood and I have a bit of a history with Ron so I’m being mean for no reason.”

“You dated him?” the man guessed. She nodded. “Huh, he said in the speech that he’d loved his wife since he was 13.”

“And I dated him when we were 16 so…”

“Hence the ugliness,” finished the man.

“Hence the ugliness,” Lavender repeated. “I’m over it, really. Hermione and I shared a room for six years and are better friends now than we ever were at school. As for Ron, that was just some stupid school kid bullshit on both our parts. It’s more that I didn’t realize that my only opportunity to find love was going to be at Hogwarts. If I had known that, I’d have made better choices or… maybe taken Arithmancy to secure a better paying job to support my lonely life.”

“What do you mean?” the man asked.

“Everyone I know, they’re married or engaged or about to be engaged to the person that they dated at Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny dated at school, Neville and Hannah somehow started to date during our last year during the war. My best friend Parvati and her boyfriend dated our sixth year at Hogwarts and then he fled with his Muggle family overseas but they started right back up again when he came back to England. See that girl over there, the pregnant one?”

The man nodded.

“That’s Parvati’s sister. That’s her second kid cooking. She’s married to her prefect partner, Anthony. I guess technically, Ron and Hermione didn’t date at Hogwarts but -”

“He’s loved her since he was 13,” the man said amused.

“Yeah. I’m the only one that couldn’t make it out with a relationship intact.” she moaned, taking another drink.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Lavender took another long drink and contemplated his statement. “You know what? You’re right. Ginny, she also had a relationship that didn’t work out. Do you see that tall bloke over in the corner that she’s talking to?”

The man glanced in the direction Lavender was referring to. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s Dean. He was the guy that Ginny dated before Harry. Now, do you see that cute little Irishman standing next to Dean?”

The man nodded.

“That’s Seamus. He was my ex-boyfriend before Ron. And now he’s Dean’s husband. Met in school, by the way.”

“Oh,” said the man, taken aback.

Lavender narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a problem with that? Because despite the fact that Seamus is just one more example of my inability to keep a boyfriend, I will defend those men and their amazing relationship to the death from any bigot that threatens it.”

“No, no!” the man sputtered. “I’m just… I went to an all-boys school and I knew gay guys but they all hid it and I’m just not used to people being open about it. It’s fine - more than fine. Good for them! I mean, hey, they found each other and are leaving more beautiful women for the rest of us, right?”

“Merlin, I wish I could find a beautiful woman,” Lavender moaned, burying her face in her hands. The bartender seemed to take this as a signal that she needed another drink and provided her with a refill.

“Oh, are you… interested in women?” she heard him ask.

“No,” she moaned. “You must think I’m insane.” Lavender put both her hands on the man’s arm that was closest to her. “I promise that I am not hung up on some school romance from five years ago. It’s just that, if you knew Seamus or Ron at Hogwarts… did you know Seamus or Ron at Hogwarts?”

The man shook his head.

“Okay, so if you knew them, you would know that they were both totally immature prats. After I broke up with Seamus, I thought he was the worst boyfriend ever. He was always running off to spend time with his mates, talking about Quidditch, no interest in spending time with me, dumb jokes. But then, then I dated Ron, who was even worse than him. The only thing he wanted to do with me was snog and I think that was some weird power move with Hermione or his sister… who knows. I have to be way more drunk to psychoanalyze Ron Weasley. Anyway, the last month we were together, he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he wanted to ditch me for Hermione but was just too much of a coward. And yet somehow, both of those idiots ended up married before me! And it’s not like they got married to some random person that they knocked up after a one night stand. Ron eloped with his wonderful, talented, brilliant best friend that he was in love with all through school and the entire time we were dating and Seamus… oh for Godric’s sake.”

Lavender paused in her tirade for a moment. “Seamus also married his wonderful, talented, brilliant best friend that he was probably in love with all through school AND the entire time we were dating. How am I just realizing that?” Lavender groaned, banging her head on the bar.

“Can wizards knock up other wizards?” asked the man. Lavender looked up at him and burst into laughter.

“Oh, thank you for that,” she giggled. “I was spiralling.”

“Uh, yeah, no worries,” said the man, shifting in his seat.

“It’s just that this dating stuff is really hard. The wizarding world is so small, you know? I think it’s why everyone locks in with their soulmate at school, ” Lavender commiserated.

“Have you ever considered dating like, outside the wizarding world?” the man asked.

Lavender shook her head. “How could I? It’s tough enough here. After all the Prophet spotlights on battle injuries and such, everyone knows how I got all these awful scars on my face but it still takes a certain type of man to look past them. And I’m sure there are Muggles that aren't shallow about them either but they would ask how I got them. How would I explain them to a Muggle? I can’t just say ‘Oh during a war at my school, a werewolf tried to rip me to shreds. But don’t worry, I’m not a werewolf although I have some side effects from it.’ They’d think I was insane.”

“Uh, yeah, that does sound a bit… daunting,” the man admitted, looking a bit pale.

“I mean, I’m still a catch. I’m funny, I have a great rack, I make excellent scones, and I’m amazing in bed.” At that comment, she heard the man next to her choke a little and she stifled a smile to continue on. “And even if I could get away with not explaining it to a man, once I meet his family, there’s no way. In my experience, mothers are always trying to find a reason to hate the woman that’s dating their special baby boy. I can’t imagine a Muggle mother taking very kindly to a literal witch with werewolf scars.”

“Yes,” sighed the man before giving a little chuckle. “I can certainly see that. And with all of the, you know, war stuff, I can see where you wish you had a school sweetheart.”

Lavender shook her head and drained the rest of her drink. “Seamus and Ron are just easy targets. I really am not hung up on them. This is about Don.”

“Who’s Don?”

“Don is my last boyfriend. We dated exclusively for eight months and he was so fun and thoughtful and generous. But he never said I love you. He kept telling me that he was too young to settle down and, I believed that he thought that. I really did. So we split in December because we wanted different things.”

“Ah,” said the man. “Seems sensible.”

“And then this morning, I see it in The Daily Prophet.”

“See what?”

“His engagement announcement,” she wailed, throwing herself on the bar again and almost upsetting her glass.

The man patted her on the shoulder. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

“Do you know how long they’ve been dating?” Lavender asked.

“Eight months?” ventured the man.

“FIVE!” Lavender cried.

“Maybe he knocked her up?” suggested the man.

Lavender looked up at him and burst into laughter again. “Merlin, you’re funny. Why am I whinging about all these dolts I’ve surrounded myself with when I should get to know you better?”

“Yeah?” said the man with a grin.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, if you want-”

“Of course,” he interrupted. “A funny, beautiful woman wants to get to know me better - the answer is always yes. I do need a refill. Do you want one? You’re not driving home, are you?”

Lavender giggled.

The man shook his head and looked embarrassed. “Oh, right, you wouldn’t be driving. You would uh - ”

“You must be a Muggle born. Do- I mean, I’ve heard others say that before. Those habits die hard.”

“Actually,” the man took a deep breath. “I’m a Muggle.”

Lavender’s jaw dropped. “How the fuck does a Muggle get invited to the engagement party of the Chosen One and a pureblood Quidditch player?”

“Well, Harry’s my cousin,” the man said. “My name’s Dudley.”

***************

“Do you see that over there?” asked Hermione, nudging Ron. He turned away from his conversation with Neville and Charlie to see what his wife was gesturing to across the room.

“Is that Dudley Dursley chatting up Lavender?” Ron asked, as his eyes landed on the sight before him.

“It appears to be,” said Hermione. “Merlin, they are really flirting. Should we go over there and say something? A warning or...?”

“Right,” said Ron. “Absolutely we should. Which one of them are we warning?”

#lavender brown #lavender deserved better #side hinny #romione fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #romione #deamus #hp fanfic

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washymylifeaway · 3 years

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Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: series edition ;)

ALRIGHT LOVES, BUCKLE UP! IM FORCING MYSELF TO FIND MOTIVATION LOL

As I was making that cursed SakuAtsu fanfic rec post (it really is cursed, but it’ll get done eventually cause I do love the SakuAtsu too much, when tho? only god know LOL), I decided that if I’m gonna finish it, imma have to break it up. SO that’s why this is our lovely series edition post LOL. Originally, it WAS writers, tags, series, then single fics BUT I decided to scrap tags and even then I was like it’s too long..... And so, this post materialized LOL (mayhaps writers next? who knows anymore cause I certainly don’t LOL). These are ONLY some of the series that I absolutely adore, and I say some because 1) the tag is literally like 4k fics long and I was on like page 20 something and I have SO many tabs open rn for SakuAtsu, so chances are I missed one or five LOL :’((((( and 2) my ao3 account hasn’t been made yet (should’ve done this a looooooong time ago) and so I don’t have them all saved anywhere :( (these just sound like excuses LMFAO) So these are just the ones I saw and was like OOP I LOVE and then added LOL (and so they’re in no particular order hehe). I also didn’t *** any of them cause they’re all so freakin good and even if you randomly chose one, you will not be disappointed.

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for series and each individual fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

I would also be more careful cause there are a lot more TW in these fics than other ships!

Terminal Curiosity by favspacetwink, moonlumie (E) // CHECK WARINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES!!! this is one of the BEST series I’ve read for this ship and even though I tend not to read WIP, IT’S WORTH IT! Please read ALL the tags before going into any of the fics in this series because there’s some real spicy stuff that may not be your cup of tea!

your highs and lows by astroeulogy (T,M,E) // this fic made me go on a roller coaster of feels from start to (tentative) finish :))) It’s great and I love it AHHHHH The progression in their relationship is just so ajfkjsf, and I just adore how Atsumu just broke(?) during that first fic and the number of double takes he did, v relatable LOL.

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional by DeathBelle (T,E) // I LOVE the entrance to this fic and how it flowed so well. I think Atsumu is characterized really well throughout this series (I could totally see Atsumu bringing the same thing up over and over again LOL), and his development was done beautifully (You just want to make me say it.,,, Kinda, yeah.). I really freakin love this series so please go ahead and read it don’t be shy hehehe.

we call everything on the ice, "love" by awkwardedgeworth (T) // I LOVE this fic omg,,, it’s in series, but it’s only two fics LOL... Anyway, Notte Stellata is one of my favorite SakuAtsu fics and I have reread it way TOO many times and the fanpage fic IS SO AMAZING (AND FUNNY ASF PLS). I really love ice skating AU’s too so this really made this ‘series’ all the more better <333333

know you better & related stories by theglitterati (T,M,E) // this is definitely one of the best relationship development series I’ve read, I love it so much! It really touches all the bases, and the progression is just SO good. It really is the fic version of the get along shirt, extended edition LOL.

flutterbird (a collection of sakuatsu one-shots) by wordstruck (T,M,E) // this series is such an easy pick up because it’s a bunch of one-shots (esp. if you’re not into smut cause there is some), BUT all of them are def worth a read. Personally, the third one, the sakusa kiyoomi listography, is my favorite (cause imma sucker for Sakusa), but that’s just personal preference hehe :)

Atsumu + Sakusa + The National = ? by isaksara (syailendra) (T,M) // this is another stand alone fic series but with AUs :D I don’t even know like most (ie. all) of the references (LMFAO), but I still read all of them LOL. Again, a personal favorite (without any references LOL) is the second one, famous angels (never come through england), it’s really funny and good and I just love it okay?

Better For Us Both by abrandnewheart (M) // (this was CP from my angst fic rec post LOL tho it is slightly edited cause istg my writing style changes every post LOL) THE MUG FIC. There is a sequel and when I saw it, it took me another week to read it cause I was like,,, am I ready to have my heart break again? No LOL. But the sequel is actually not as angst (but there’s still angst), so if you want to be like semi-broken or whatever, just read the sequel LOL (also it’s Sakusa POV HEHE). It’s so sad and it made me physically hurt every time someone even mentioned mugs afterwards (LOL why am I so dramatic but it’s the truth :///). Go ahead and hurt with me. You should read it even if you don’t like angst because you know what they say, no pain no gain :’)

parallax error: angle of inclination by min_mintobe (T) // okay so technically this ‘isn’t a series’, but it is two fic that are related, and what is that if not A SERIES :DDDDD Anyway, I really love this fic enough that I would find loopholes in my own dang post to recommend it LOL. I really love the service ace bet between Sakusa and Atsumu (I do think it is a superior headcannon (it’s hc right?)) but I also love what’s left unsaid by both in each other’s POVs hehe. If you want to go straight to Sakusa’s POV (cause their different POVs of the same fic), here it is parallax error: line of sight. You can read either first, but I recommend you read both eventually :)

to make any other mistake by honeymilktea (rosevtea) (T) // I, myself, am a very big fan of college Haikyuu (tho idk if it seems like that LOL), and this fic is very much up my alley hehe. I really like the idea that they are both TA’s and that Atsumu would totally bribe Sakusa into fake dating him as well as Sakusa wearing his brightest outfits to spite Atsumu.

How Do You Know? by awkwardedgeworth (T) // these fics are both so funny omg. The google search histories, the trial and error, and just everything in these two fics gives me so much dopamine LOL. There’s one POV for both end of the ship, though their tragedies are slightly different.

the human disaster chronicles by firtree (G,T) // is this another Atsumu gay panic fic? Yes, yes it is and I have absolutely no shame in recommending it hehe. I realllllllly like this fic and Atsumu having a break down cause Sakusa didn’t follow his routine? It is the move. Anyway, pls read this series cause like the title suggests, it really is a disaster (but at least there’s love right? LOL).

I Love You (Though it's Inadvisable) by Anubis_2701 (T) // okay the series itself is a wip (as in only one fic for now LOL), but the fic is so good, I couldn’t leave it off :))))) First, I do love a good soulmate AU and although I’m not a big fan on the body switching AUs, THIS one was SO good!!! It gets really cheesy and fluff at the end, but the beginning of this fic was just so immaculate, that we’re gonna ignore how much the ending made me want to stick my head into a hole (cause it was so FLUFF OMG).

The Germaphobe and the Asshole by metaandpotatoes (T,E) // so this series is also actually a WIP, but it’s okay I only read the first and the last one anyway cause they’re basically stand alone’s LOL. This series focuses a lot on Sakusa’s mysophobia, so if you’re not a fan of the hc, you should prolly pass hehe. TBH, my favorite is the third one, Avoidance Behavior, but that’s mainly cause I really like SunaOsa and I love the brother bond in it!

you are the cause of my euphoria by SugarHighs (T) // ajsfljksadhjkdfk is my first thoughts while reading this series cause ATSUMU WOULD. He would start posting thirst trap pics (which really reminded me of Wonho) in order to prove he was the most good looking member of MSBY. Tho, we do love the clowning of one Sakusa Kiyoomi, as done in the third fic (PLEASE NUMBER 17 AND Cheezel). Even if you can’t get yourself to read the other fics, read the third one, 5 Ways To Tell If The Person You're Dating Is The One, for the free serotonin boost plsplspls.

'basis' - noun. the underlying foundation for an idea or process. by auvelli (T) // like I said, college AU is a great AU, love it. This one, I do love indeed. We do stan having microwaves and mini fridges hehe. I support the ramen endeavors but oatmeal is gross, I said what I said. Anyway, I love the tags in the second fic, so even if you don’t end up reading it, read the tags,,,, they’re funny okay?

and i press you to the pages of my heart by volchitsae (T) // I LOVE THIS ONE, teehee again the college AU makes another appearance LOL. I REALLY love this writer, and this one is so funny but cute at the same time. It’s another two POV fic, but you’ll want to read this one in order hehe. Again, the ending is so FLUFF, that my head wanted to take a visit to the underground BUT ITS OKAY.

affection and acid reflux by volchitsae (T) // so the first fic is ~angst~ but IT GETS BETTER OKAY, happy endings. HAPPY ENDINGS. Anyway, there’s some really cute Sakusa in this one (esp. when he talks to the boy at the village LOVE HIM) and a healthy amount of angst as well. I really like this fic and guess what it is? Say it with me, COLLEGE AU LOL.

how big the hourglass, how deep the sand by volchitsae (E) // did I just recommend the same writer three times in a row? Yup and I think that says something LOL (tbh I like some of their stand alone fics more tho LMFAO but that doesn’t mean these series are bad nononono not at ALL (this sounded sarcastic but that was not the intention LOL)). This one is ~magical~ (v literally) and has some kinky stuff (holy water ftw) in it, so tread carefully :) I would make sure to read the tags before each one because it gets kinda steamy LOL.

^^ if I had to choose between these three, I liked and i press you to the pages of my heart the most just cause the plot was my type LOL. But they’re all good hehe.

a study on you(th) and reverie by sieges (G,T) // this series is such a sad series :( The first two are the only SakuAtsu but the third one is an angst Osamu one so there’s that LOL (and ofc the fourth one is KuniYama (is that their ship name idk)) But the first one is a moving on fic (which I liked) and the second is like basically a fake break up (which I liked more LOL) and both have some nice shares of angst and fluff so choose your battles wisely (or just read both LOL).

Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) // CHECK WARINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES!!! ah yes, the mafia fic LOL. I REALLY LOVE THIS FIC. I felt so bad for Atsumu the entire fic and yes it is, ATSUMU BEST BOY time. Did I really just recommend this series AGAIN for the THIRD TIME in THREE SEPARATE POSTS? Apparently LMFAO I didn’t even know TBH LOL. I just really like this one,,,,,, okay? But pls Atsumu just here for the ride man cause he BEST BOY. Anyway, if you want to see my other comments of this fic that I forgot I did links here :D (links and here are two separate links to two separate posts LOL).

OKAY so that’s most of the series that I saw and was like gotta put this here LOL. And do you see how long this is (I know I’m missing so many series I like istg when I find them later imma cry or just make another post LOL).... Can you imagine how long my actual fic fic one is LOL (i’m not kidding tho it’s so long I might just do fics with their actual summaries instead of adding my invalid, piss poor reviews :/). Ugh the more I think about it, the more I lose motivation to finish LMFAO, so imma go be no thoughts head empty, but I hope you enjoyed reading these series! I love SakuAtsu SO much, so there’s lots more to come (is that good or bad idek). I know I was kinda lazy on the warnings (my bad), so I hope you all were attentive and made sure to check before reading! Also if there are any errors, send me a message/ask! PLS, they’re v embarrassing LOL. (Also tell me if I forget to cap my I’s bc I do that sometimes and I can’t tell cause of the font LMFAO.) The way my posts get slightly more chaotic every time I post LOL.

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furblrwurblr · 3 years

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Moppet!Douxie x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU | Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Fire/Explosion, lots of crying, self esteem issues, misunderstandings cause a lot of emotional turmoil

Note: This is my first fic! I know fics have it worse than art, but if you'd consider leaving tips in the comments, I'd be super grateful! Thanks for taking a look!

It was springtime in Camelot, near the turn of the season. The sun was high, the birds were singing, and you... were late. As a magic user, your life was in constant jeopardy regardless of your employment as the Crowmaster, Crowlord Corbin’s apprentice, penning and sending letters for the kingdom. And in this kingdom, tardiness was not appreciated. Racing through the castle halls with the king’s letters in hand, you noticed movement on your forearms.

“I wonder what color their eyes are. I bet they’re lovely.”

Your lips curled in a tender smile at the curling words that appeared on your skin. Similar musings crossed your soulmate’s mind daily, not leaving your body free of the enigmatic “ink” for years.

No one, not even the renowned Merlin Ambrosius, knew the precise nature of the words that would mark people’s skin, only that they were your soulmate’s thoughts about you. Soulmates were a fickle thing, their connections varying with different cultural beliefs and changing as countries developed. In England, the written words made finding your soulmate a tad difficult as one couldn’t know if their other half was paying any mind when they tried to share personal details. It was said that once you know them wholly, you’re complete in all things. Whatever that means.

You’d once been impatient to meet your own, to know what it means to be complete, but after years of black markings coming and going, covering your body in kind words of admiration, you deemed them worth the wait.

You were shocked from your reverie in a flutter of parchment. You’d bumped into someone, the king’s letters falling to the ground right into… was that slorr juice? You didn’t even apologize to the raven-haired young man whose spell material you’d just gotten all over the floor. You were far too panicked. Knowing your animal magic was of no help here, you scrambled to salvage what you could.

Hisirdoux was in trouble. Merlin would have his head when he told him he lost the slorr juice to another bout of soulmate pondering, and have it again when he discovered that said juice is the reason the king didn’t receive his news regarding the upcoming royal summit. Douxie leaned forward to help but instead opted to frantically search his brace for anything that could help the poor apprentice in front of him.

When he’d finally found the rune, the Crowmaster had just finished shaking off what liquid they could from the sensitive documents. He quickly dried them hoping to save the ink on them as best he could, long fingers flitting over each. In a hurried frenzy of apologies and farewells, the hallway was emptied.

Merlin was less than pleased, and frankly, a little concerned. Douxie usually gets so cautious after a mistake that even Merlin feels his stress, but this was the third time this week. Why was he so focused on his soulmate? After a right scolding, Douxie retired to his room to study. Merlin nearly did a double-take at what was written on his young apprentice’s neck.

“He was quite kind.”

So they’d met. Did his soulmate know? Did Douxie know?

Over the next few weeks, you two kept running into one another. A passing here, an acknowledgment there. After about a month you’d come to look forward to seeing the boy trip over himself en route to Merlin’s study. You helped him carry supplies when the Crowlord was away and talked when he dropped off Merlin’s letters to the court magicians across England. For some reason, you found yourself hanging on his every word and smiling whenever you caught a glimpse of his adorable manbun weaving through the streets.

He felt the same. It was never enough to speak to you in passing and he even left long conversations with you feeling wanting. He doesn’t quite remember how he started, but it’d become a habit to watch you work through the large western tower window. He’d admire your tenderness with the crows and was warmed by your bond with your hawk familiar.

As you left the tower to retire for the night, he always thought you might be cold, but never gathered the courage to walk you to your chambers.

Douxie was concerned. The day was halfway through, winter clouds covering the high sun, and you were nowhere to be seen. He’d watched you enter the western tower at dawn and the candlelight hadn’t been extinguished once. He was principally done with Merlin’s tasks for the day, perhaps he could pop his head in? “just for a minute,” he decided.

He exited his chambers (Merlin’s storage closet) and rapped a knuckle on his master’s desk, pulling his attention from some blueprints. Merlin didn’t speak, just gave an expectant look.

Douxie ran a near-trembling hand through his tied black hair before cautiously speaking up. “Master, may I have the rest of the day off?”

“Whatever brought this on? After the way you’ve been acting these past months?”

Douxie averted his gaze, suddenly finding his shoes far more interesting. “I’d… I’d like to see someone today.”

After a beat, the master wizard quickly scribbled something down on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy.

“Finish these and I’ll consider your time served for the day,” Merlin sighed.

Douxie had been sure he would shut down. He quickly snatched the list and ran to the door, uttering a rushed ‘thank you master’ before it shut behind him. Merlin watched him leave, fondness in his eyes.

The sun was just dipping past the high kingdom walls, turning the town a vibrant orange. Douxie hung the herbs he’d just gathered, heaving a sigh of great relief when the last one was in place. He raced across the west side, eager to visit his… friend? Is that who you were to him? He banished the thought as he came upon the west tower, dark eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Citizens, a lot of them, stood in a line from the tower out down the hallway.

“What’s going on?” he asked a young woman.

“I’m here with my children, the Crowmaster is penning wishlists for Saint Nick. Just a shilling each!”

Douxie nodded and thanked her, then made his way to the tower. He gently pushed past the mob gathered in the doorway, stammering apologies. At last, he reached the Crowlord’s desk. The man himself was nowhere to be seen and you were alone, writing away at the whim of an excited child. He caught a glimpse of your face, you looked tired. Had you really been doing this all day?

Exhausted wasn’t a big enough word to describe how you felt. The only thing keeping you going was reading the various forms of concern written on your skin. By now, you knew you’d met them, but you couldn’t place who it could be. However, thinking was only making you more fatigued as your aching wrist swept across the parchment.

Douxie said nothing, just pulled out the Crowlord’s chair, and sat down. You looked at him, eyes wide, but the only explanation offered was a kind smile. He picked up a quill and called out for the next person to step forward. You turned back to the young girl asking for a sword, your smile wide and heart swelling.

By the time you two finished, the sun was half past the horizon. The last patron left the tower and you both heaved a sigh of relief.

“I can’t than-”

“Um, do you think-”

You looked at one another and laughed, waiting for the other to speak. Douxie hesitated, then took a deep breath.

“Uhm, do you think you’ve some time? I’d like to show you something,” he asked, lifting his eyes to your face.

“Sure,” you replied, smiling and holding out your elbow.

He beamed, quickly grabbing two pieces of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. You raised a brow but let him be as he threaded your arm through his and started walking.

The young wizard’s apprentice couldn’t bring himself to speak, he was far too nervous. Thankfully, you found the silence comfortable as he led you up a winding staircase at the corner of the castle. Once you both reached the top, he gestured to the sea. It was breathtaking. The salty breeze floated through your hair as you admired the sun’s glow over the water and the colors of twilight.

Douxie broke the quiet. “I thought you’d like this. Hmm, it isn’t enough light to write by though.” He waved his hand, sending blue wisps to swirl around you both. You watched them float about, eyes finally landing on Douxie who was making himself comfortable in a crenel, placing the supplies he’d brought with him on the merlon in front of him. You settled across from him, reaching for the quill.

His slender hand caught yours and laid in on the stone, gently massaging your wrist. “You’ll injure yourself at this rate. Let someone else write for you today.” His gaze caught yours, hazel eyes full of concern, and… something else you couldn’t place.

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reveled in the sun on your skin and the breeze on your lips. Douxie shuffled his papers around and spoke up again a moment later.

“So! What’s your wish?” Douxie asked, smiling wide.

“What?” you said, puzzled.

Douxie rose a brow, pointing out “All today, has anyone penned you a wishlist?”

“I suppose not,” you said, the smile settling back onto your face.

He beamed and set the quill to the parchment again. “Fantastic. Not that I think it’s fantastic no one’s offered, I’m just glad I get to- oh, I never even asked. I should have asked first, I’m so sorry-,” His shoulders tensed, but he stopped abruptly when he felt your hand on his.

“Hisirdoux, thank you. I’d love it if you did, there’s no need to worry.”

You started telling him things you wanted for Christmas and conversation flowed from there. Teasing banter and loud laughter filled the sky as it turned to night, blue magic floating around you both excitedly in time with your synchronized heartbeats as he finally walked you to your chambers, even offering you his hood. What could he do? He thought you looked cold.

It was just past noon on Christmas day. The ground sparkled a bright white and children’s laughter rang through the air. You took a deep breath of the crisp air and let it out in a contented sigh, taking a sip of the warm cider your master bought you before he left to celebrate with his family. He invited you to join them, but you opted to celebrate it yourself. You placed the cider on the table next to the window you were sitting in and picked up the small wood block you were fashioning into a present for Douxie. The small wooden cat-dragon only needed his hind leg to be freed from its timber prison. It wasn’t perfect, but it’s the thought that counts. As you worked, sentences curled up your arms and swirling letters kissed the base of your fingers. You paused your whittling with a frown. The only feeling behind this gift was love. You’d accepted you loved Douxie after that night bathed in twilight and lonely smiles, but you felt so incredibly twisted about it. You’d already met your soulmate and they thought about you often. Did your soulmate also worry they’d fallen in love with the wrong person? You shook your head, clearing your mind at the sound of wingbeats. Your hawk familiar landed on your raised knee and began to preen themself, looking at you smugly through pristine feathers.

“I can feel you overthinking things from across the castle,” they spoke, masking concern under teasing.

You scoffed, knowing they were right. “What am I meant to do? I can’t go on like this when I’ve got a soulmate out there. I can’t even try, it’s against the law! They know we’re bonded, what if they see me with him? I don’t want to hurt them like that. Not to mention, what if he’s not perfect for me? I want the soulbond to experience all of another person, but should I give that up for love?”

Your familiar shook their head and flew away, leaving you with your question hanging in the air. Watching them leave, you noticed someone walking towards the slorr’s stable. The manbun was too recognizable for there to be a shred of doubt: Douxie was being put to work on Christmas Day. You turned the wooden Archie in your hand and pushed off the windowsill. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you can’t stay friends.

Douxie was in flux. Archie saw the boy’s neutral expression turn sour as he read what he could of his soulmate’s thoughts. They loved someone else? Would they give him up for someone they’d already met? He couldn’t exactly criticize, he was in the same boat. Y/N was so important to him, but if he found his soulmate, could he quell the confusing little thing they had together for someone he barely knew? He decided he’d understand if his soulmate didn’t love him, he’d want them to do the same. He loved Y/N too much to let them go.

He looked up from his arm and startled. You were waiting for him, leaning against the slorr’s gate, your hawk familiar preening themself. While you laughed at his absentmindedness, he frantically rolled his ¾ sleeves down over the words that betrayed his true heart.

“Y-Y/N! W-what are you doing here? Aren’t you- um, aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” Douxie stammered out as his heart rate slowed.

You pushed off the gate and grabbed the pail he was holding in his hands that were still light with adrenaline. “I am! I opted not to celebrate with Master Corbin and his family, take the day for myself and see where it leads,” you said, a hopeful grin rising to your lips.

Douxie broke into a giddy smile, his heart afloat. They had all of Christmas to enjoy the town and they were here with him? He couldn’t believe his fortune. “Then I’m glad it led you here!” he exclaimed.

Archie curled himself around your leg, butting his dark head into your calf. “Are you here to enjoy the show?” he asked with a purr.

Your laugh was the only thing keeping Douxie from strangling his bespectacled familiar, so he settled for a pout you internally cooed at.

Both of you paused in front of the gate, reluctant to enter. He swung it open with a bow. “Ladies first.”

“Cheeky,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Archie and your familiar started playing with one another as you two prepared to take on the slorr together.

Hm. This was a mess. The slorr seemed to enjoy the happy atmosphere you’d both created so she was a tad more cooperative, but it took longer for her to calm down. You and Douxie were covered head to toe in the glowing blue liquid, trying to remove what you could into the pail Merlin gave him. Your shared laughter slowed to silence as you noticed him staring at you, eyes slowly roving over your face. Did he look… sad? No, that wasn’t it. Before you could scrutinize him further, you felt it. Gentle fingers caressing your cheek, going up, up… Your breath hitched as he laid his palm to your cheek, thumb slowly moving across your face. You let out a shaky breath and he jolted, noticing your wide eyes fixed on his and quickly withdrawing his hand.

He shook some juice from his hand and gesticulated wildly, stammering through an apology. “You- you had some juice on your cheek, I’m so sorry, Merlin’s tower, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“It’s okay, really. Thanks for getting it for me,” you interrupted. You wanted to say more, but his sleeve had risen in his fervor, swirling lines reminding you he wasn’t yours to comfort. Hisirdoux was such an emotional and empathetic being, he wouldn’t leave his soulmate. Especially since his soulmate would have to be an absolute saint, it’s no less than he deserved. Taking a deep breath in, you looked back at him. “Don’t bite your lips, you’ll chap them. Was that your last task for the day?”

Douxie released his lip, fighting the urge to continue chewing it. “It was, and I’ve no clue how I’m going to use the rest of the afternoon,” he said, watching as his familiar and yours playfully wrestled for a mouse.

Your heart leaped, this was your chance! “How would you like to spend it together? There are tons of things to do in town and I’ve saved up my pay for a while so I’ve some wiggle room. Not to mention, I’ve made you something.”

The nervous cloud around you both dissolved as Douxie eagerly agreed and begged you to reveal what you had for him. You denied him with a laugh, smile widening with his every impatient groan. Your familiars ran ahead of you both, swirling in a frenzy of playful fighting and laughter as you walked out of the castle, arm-in-arm.

The town was a sight to behold. Holly curled around door frames, red berries nestled among twisted wreaths. Mistletoe hung from building corners, tracks disrupted the perfect layers of fresh snow, and children weaved and ducked through throngs of people gathered around street musicians. Snowballs were flying at the end of every street, laughter and song floating in the air with the excited chatter of families buying wares for their families, and lines of crushed berries stained the ground. It was an English tradition to wish to meet your soulmate sooner by spreading holly berries in a line on Christmas as a nod to the Chinese legends of the soulstring, a red string that connected soulmates there. Sure, it made a mess of your shoes but you always found it cute.

The first few minutes were unsure, both of you fishing for ideas on what to do first. Archie and your familiar were already deep in conversation, but you and Douxie were struggling. That is, until, the smell of sweet buns reached him. His stomach let out a mighty grumble, a testament to how he’d been working for longer than you and likely hadn’t eaten lunch yet. He covered his pale face with his free hand, too embarrassed to bear seeing you fight a rising smile. You slid your hand down his forearm and grasped his cold fingers, pulling him towards the source of the heavenly aroma. A fiery blush rose to his ears when he registered your fingers lacing with his while you waited in line. Reaching the front, Douxie’s protests fell on deaf ears as you swatted his hands away, insisting you’d pay. The baker gave a soft smile and handed you two of the high coveted baked goods, bidding you both a happy Christmas. Just two apprentices walking hand in hand, browsing stalls, eating together, and enjoying one another's company.

Douxie heard something on the wind and perked up. Lively music came from the town square and Douxie wasn’t about to miss the chance to dance with you. He pulled you from the daggers you were eyeing, making a note of which you lingered on before pulling you close and weaving through the other partygoers. Soon enough, you made it to the musicians, seeing the space before them where a group was dispersing as the song ended. The vocalist started up again, solo for a few lines until the band swelled. Douxie bounced on his heels, recognizing the tune as The Bear and the Maiden Fair. His excitement sent a wave of courage through him and he slipped his fingers from yours, instead grabbing you by the wrist to drag you to the open space. Others joined, forming a circle. Claps and stomps interrupted the smooth movement of the ring. Laughter mixed with the joyful notes of the flute. Hisirdoux couldn’t stop looking at your joined hands, sometimes lifting his gaze to your eyes closed in a laugh. When the vocalist reached the line “lifted her high into the air”, Douxie broke his hand away from the person opposite you, lifted you by the waist, and spun. Your clothes fluttered and for a moment, you were weightless. Douxie’s laughter rang in your ears, lingering just like the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. His hands were warm and firm on your midsection, the heat replaced with a chill as he set you down. You absently continued the dance, happiness clouding the passage of time. Douxie kept your hand in his, allowing your arms to fall to your sides. You looked at each other, breathless smiles lingering on your faces as the song changed once more. You both walked on, catching your breath and coming down from the high.

A few hours later, you’d both had more interaction with each other than you’d had with anyone else all year. It was a welcome break from the same hallways, the same people, and the same routines. You’d bought each other dinner, talked about everything under the sun, and danced through seemingly all of Camelot, only separating for maybe an hour to buy gifts that may or may not have been for one another.

The day was coming to a close, the sun once again a deep vermillion, the snow reflecting it like gems. As you were heading back to the castle, you passed a holly berry stall. Douxie saw you looking at it, sobered by the reminder you were both promised to complete strangers. Just today, he’d fallen so much more in love with you than he thought possible, and if you wanted your soulmate, who was he to deny you? He tugged on your arm, wordlessly offering a pound to the vendor. The woman raised a brow at your intertwined fingers but offered the small basket of berries without a question. You looked at him quizzically when he drew his hand from yours, pouring a good amount into his hand and giving you the remainder. Enjoying the bittersweet silence, you two took turns placing the berries in a line. Archie swatted your familiar’s eager beak from the line of red that was stark against the slow-melting snow. Once you’d finished, Douxie sent you a sad smile and asked if you’d like to exchange gifts in his chambers. You agreed, once again arm-in-arm, streets quiet except for the soft crunching of snow beneath your heavy feet and the pound of heavy hearts.

Hisirdoux lit all his candles as the sun peeked just over the horizon. Archie made himself comfortable on his wizard’s pillow, curling around a tired hawk familiar. Your own wizard associate preened themselves while you and Doux sat on the bed, eventually opting to preen Archie when they were satisfied. Archie let out a yelp when she preened the edge of his ear, earning a look from you. Douxie pulled out a handful of items from his satchel with a flourish and showed you all the things he’d found one by one. Polish for Lancelot’s sword, a garlic braid for one of Galahad’s more ambitious brews, cooked salmon for Archie, and other things spread out in front of him.

He gave a nervous smile. “Close your eyes,” he breathed.

You smiled as your eyes slid shut. His slim, cold fingers touched your hand, causing goosebumps to rise on your arm as he pressed something small into your palm.

“And… open!” He slid his hands from yours and into his lap, an expectant look on his long face. Looking down, you gasped. There laid a ring that looked to be made of vines, weaving around each other and wrapping around the base of a tiny white flower.

“I found a curltrap in the forest on my last herb run and thought you might like it, so I made it into a ring. It won’t wilt. Um… do you? Like it, I mean,” he asked, brows pinching.

You slipped it on and looked at him in awe. Leaning forward, you softly put your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. “Douxie, it’s beautiful. No one’s ever given me such a thoughtful gift, thank you for making it.” He laid his hands on your back and laid his face in the crook of your neck to return the gesture, hand trailing after when you pulled away.

“Your turn!” You reached into your bag and paused. “Close your eyes.”

Douxie pouted but held his hand out after doing as he was told. He felt something hard and contoured, slowly curling his long fingers around it. He opened his eyes and stared at it in awe. It was wood whittled in Archie’s likeness, complete with small green gems for eyes and tiny glasses frames made of wire. His wings were unfurled, his posture inquisitive. Archie looked at it, speechless.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I played it safe. When I told the carpenter it was for you he offered to inlay the gems for free. You’re more appreciated than you think!” you exclaimed with a smile. He whispered a “thank you” as he turned it over in his hands, admiring the details. In all honesty, he’d already committed every dip and groove to memory, he was just replaying your words in his mind. “You’re more appreciated than you think!” He never thought about the impact he had on others, he was too busy being concerned with Merlin’s opinion of him. That’d be something he’d have to work on if it made you smile like that.

The rest of the evening flew by, laughter and the sound of a lute seeping through Douxie’s chamber door and into Merlin’s study. By now you’d fallen asleep on his bed having drifted off while Douxie softly sang a folk lullaby you’d requested. He lifted the blanket over you and laid down, the blanket layered between you two. He stared at you while you slept, soaking you in. The shadows your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. Your chest rising and falling in tandem with his. The black lines swirling to your collarbone- wait. Douxie watched as a thought appeared on your skin, hidden under your shirt. Archie moved in circles at the foot of the bed and stopped abruptly feeling Douxie’s sudden fear. He was so tempted to look but he couldn’t risk you hating him… it’s just to see what they think of you. To see if they deserve you. Yeah, that was a viable excuse. Archie hissed quietly at his friend, watching Douxie’s trembling fingers gingerly expose the skin towards your shoulder. He looked at the two words, puzzled. “They’re breathtaking.” Did they see you in the square? Had it been when you’d separated? Douxie was torn from his own thoughts when you made a noise, your brow furrowing for a moment and relaxing. His hand still had your collarbone exposed, and he watched in equal parts elation and horror as his own thought scrawled itself onto your skin.

“I don’t know if I can let you go.”

His blood ran cold, breath hitching and mind flailing.

You were his. You were fated to be his. But you loved someone else.

Spring had returned to Camelot, plants thriving in the sun’s warmth. The flowers were happy, fluttering in the sea breeze. You furrowed your brow when your heart clenched at the thought of such beautiful blossoms mocking you. A shadow passed over your face as you looked to the flower that still curled itself around your finger. It’d been three months since the best Christmas you’d ever had, but the memory was now stained. Douxie and you still talked, but for some reason, he made excuses to avoid you and felt distant when you were able to cajole him into a short walk. At first, it seemed like he was busy with the amulet, but then he was absent even when Merlin said he was stuck and didn’t require his apprentice’s help. You were disappointed and confused, feeling hurt every time he blew you off with some excuse of running errands for Merlin.

Hisirdoux wasn’t feeling any better. He missed you greatly and seeing what you thought of his excuses only deepened his guilt. But wasn’t this what you wanted? Why would you be so disappointed he wouldn’t spend as much time with you if you loved someone else? He chalked it up to the soulmate bond, ignoring Archie’s concern and attempts at advice. His eyes were sunken in and puffy, due in part to crying himself to sleep watching your pain at his sudden distance write itself on his skin. He’d go to bed with swirling lines of magical ink torturing his dreams and awake a blank slate, ready for it to start all over again.

Archie couldn’t take this. For the past week, he’d been pushing his magic through their psychic bond, pouring parts of a sleep spell into his charge, but that would only work for so long. Douxie was destroying himself from the inside out, all because he couldn’t be selfish for once and speak up. The shifter waited for Douxie to leave for the day, telling him he’d find him at noon. Archie stayed in front of the door until the young man’s voice faded. He sighed, whispering an apology. Douxie wouldn’t want anyone to know, but the boy needed an intervention.

“Merlin? We need to talk.”

Merlin had noticed Douxie’s exhaustion and had purposefully lightened his load, but the boy kept working regardless. Merlin thought less work could allow him to spend more time with the Crowmaster (who at this point couldn’t be anyone BUT Douxie’s soulmate considering how quickly they bonded and how much time they spent together), but he’d come back to his study to see the books sorted a different way every week, the suits of armor impossibly polished, and the herb rack overflowing with all kinds of magical flora. As Archie relayed the events of the past few months, Merlin felt his chest constrict tighter and tighter. His heart bled for the boy, growing angry at just how oblivious you both were. And then, an idea. Not one of his best or subtlest, but it’d get the job done fast and serve as a bit of punishment for confusing his apprentice’s heart.

It was that time of year again. The yearly royal summit had you and the Crowlord running circles around one another, both of you rapidly penning and sending letters and the occasional need to coerce the grumpiest crow, Corvus, to carry just one more letter for the day. Between your familiar’s regular several-day flights to Spain, your scurrying around the castle, and the magic you were giving the crows for some extra juice, you were exhausted. Your eyes were sunken, you weren’t sleeping properly, and you missed Douxie. You didn’t know why, but his absence made your heart hurt. Every time you collected letters from Merlin, your throat closed at seeing his apprentice’s chamber door. Catching a glimpse of him through doorways and windows made your mouth dry. Both Master Corbin and Galahad had noticed your change in attitude, asking you to rest and why Douxie wasn’t with you, confused why you were no longer attached by the hip. You were tired. Everything fell by the wayside as you rushed from official to official. The king himself was concerned for you. Well, as concerned as he was willing to be towards a mage.

Finally, there was a lull. You were able to rest for a while but didn’t dare leave the tower, knowing something would pop up eventually. Sitting down for what felt like the first time in weeks, you let everything go. The “mother hen” of the tower crows, Corinth, coaxed it out of you bit by bit until the dam burst. She preened your scalp while you cried, hot tears rolling down your twisted features. The feeling was comforting, helping to ease your upset. Finally, you were able to speak.

“...I love him, Corinth. I don’t know how I hurt him and I don’t know how to fix it, but I love him. He isn’t mine and he never will be, I know it, I do, so why does it still hurt so much?” you whimpered, drawing your knees to your chest.

“Perhaps he’s blind,” she said sagely.

“He can see perfectly well,” you whispered with an insincere chuckle, still not trusting your ability to speak without breaking down again.

Her eyes glinted in the noontime sun. “Stupid, then.”

You laughed, eyes crinkling and forcing tears that were left on your lashes to fall. “Douxie may well be stupid, but he isn’t simple. It’s one of his many charms.” A soft smile lingered on your face, heart lighter than before. “Thank you Corinth, you listen well.”

She shook out her plumage and settled on your knees, cuddling into your bosom. You stroked her gently, the silence pushing in on your curled form.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Poor Hisirdoux was in flux again. He sat on his bed turning the wooden Archie over in his hands. Merlin had left not too long ago and given him the day. Douxie’s hands felt light without a task. Come to think of it, his head felt light too. He couldn’t sleep yet, but he desperately needed a pick-me-up. A sigh escaped him when he realized his basin was nearly empty. He’d wanted something to do so he might as well refill it. Upon picking up the basin he dropped it immediately, water splashing violently across the floor along with the clatter of wood on stone. Archie yowled, shifting into his dragon form. The boy’s eyes were wide in horror as he recalled his reflection in the water. You see, in England, not only are the words of a soulmate tie important, but their placing on the skin holds equal meaning. Douxie had only ever gotten them on his limbs and the base of his skull when he was younger, but ever since he met Y/N, they began showing on his torso and the left side of his chest. But this… this couldn’t mean anything good. Scrawled black lines, no longer smooth and flourished, curled around his throat. They began from seemingly nowhere and writhed downwards in a creeping spiral, the end reaching for his heart.

“Arch!” he cried. “What’s happening? Why are they like this? What do they say? Arch, Arch, please I need to know what’s wrong!” Tears welled in his hazel eyes as he dragged his hands down his throat, futilely trying to smudge the twisted lines.

Archie felt his fear so strongly his back arched on its own accord, but he found his way to Douxie quickly. He scampered to the boy just as he fell to his knees, his mind nothing but questions. Archie shifted, paws pulling Douxie’s frantic hands into his lap as he curled his wings around the boy’s shoulders. He sniffed and shuddered to a halt, shaky breaths drawing in and out as he lifted his head for Archie to read the swirling text.

Archie’s reaction to your thoughts was well hidden. He knew you two loved each other, but this hurt him just as much as it did Douxie. “...I love him, Corinth. I don’t know how I hurt him and I don’t know how to fix it, but I love him. He isn’t mine and he never will be, I know it, I do, so why does it still hurt so much?” The next bit made him breathe a laugh, but he realized that while it wouldn’t be easy to tell Douxie just how much you were both hurt by each other’s assumptions, it was just the proof he needed. Archie tugged the reluctant apprentice out into Merlin’s study.

Hisirdoux approached the mirror, looking back at Archie before he confronted the letters snaking down his collarbone. He twisted this way and that, heart falling to pieces over and over with every word.

He shifted his hood back into place, fluffing the collar to cast the letters in shadow. One look at Archie’s concerned face was all it took. He sank against the wall, gathering Archie into his arms and burying his face into his familiar’s side. Glistening tears wet Archie’s fur as the cat dragon purred loudly to offer comfort.

Hisirdoux’s breathing evened out. “Arch, what have I done? What can I do?” he whispered, clutching the familiar ever closer.

Archie placed a large paw on the boy’s chest, near his heart. “You can go after them. Tell them what you know.”

Douxie nodded after a beat and gathered himself, quickly walking out of Merlin’s tower and towards the western wing of the castle.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

The king and his court mages piled into a carriage in preparation for the trip to the port where they’d depart to Spain for the royal summit. Merlin and Morgana sat next to each other and shared a look when the carriage lurched forward. Of course Merlin enlisted Morgana’s help, she’s a trusted source of chaos. He felt for the Crowlord’s aura in the tower and nodded to her once he confirmed Corbin was away. While Arthur was distracted, they sent their magic out. Tendrils of light bobbed, weaved, and merged to form two fluorescent lime balls. They floated around as if to get their bearings, then flew at the west tower. Nestled just below the ridge leading from the doorway was a sack of Dworkstone, its contents belonging to various trolls imprisoned in the castle dungeons. One ball started to vibrate just before it pushed to the center of the sack, starting the movement needed for a mother of an explosion The other flattened into a shield, curling itself around the sack. And they waited.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

You were still curled on the floor, Corinth in your lap when the crows began to beat their wings against their cages. Corinth was panicked but managed to push what coherent thought she could into your mind.

“The door… danger... hurry…” She struggled, taking off out the window in a flutter of black.

You felt the disturbance, dread rising in the pit of your stomach. Scrambling to your feet, you barely managed to stand before a loud boom shook the tower. The shield swelled, Trollfire stretching the ward into the room. Your frantic hands undid locks and bonds as quickly as they could, ushering the crows to safety through the large window. The ward began to thin, crackles of green sparks coming undone as the fire fought against Merlin’s magic. You barely managed to throw the last crow out the window before the ward burst into a violent, moving wall of green flames.

You were pushed into the far wall, falling and splitting your brow on the cobblestone. All you could hear was ringing as your vision went white, slowly fading back to normal. You were trapped under the desk and a few chairs, too weak to lift them off. The screech of a hawk sounded far off as your hearing faded in and out. Fire blazed all around you, easily spreading along the hay bedding in the open cages. You coughed, smoke already in the air. Wait. It shouldn’t be this low yet, it’s only been a few moments since the explosion. You quickly sobered into a panic when you realized the wood piled on top of you was burning. Great. Now you were scared and disoriented. A perfect mix for getting out of sticky situations. The only thing to do now was wait.

Douxie could swear he felt his soul leave his body. He was on his way to tell you-- well, everything. You were his everything. He felt it before he heard it. The tingle of troll and human magic filled the air before a loud explosion shook the western tower. The western tower? Fuzzbuckets, you were on duty today! Crows flew from the open window, a whole murder blackening the sky for a few moments. They’d dispersed by the time he made it to the tower entrance. There was a small crowd a few paces back, Lancelot and another knight inspecting the swelling ward full of fire. Douxie pushed through the crowd just in time to see Lancelot raising his sword.

“No! Everyone run!” he screamed.

Lance was already going full swing when he heard it, looking back at Douxie in fear. Douxie grabbed the knight and made the best ward he could on short notice before the shield burst. They were all blasted backward, a few serfs’ tunics setting on fire. His dark hair was thoroughly windswept, his entire body frozen in shock on the ground. Lancelot might have been screaming, but Douxie couldn’t hear it. Blood dripped down his pale face, but Douxie couldn’t feel it. He could have been floating, his head was so light. Sure, his ears rang, his hands trembled, his chest heaved, but all he could feel was you. Your confusion, your panic. You were definitely inside. Douxie struggled to his feet and stumbled forward into the tower, ignoring Galahad’s voice yelling for him to stop.

If he wasn’t suffocating before, he sure was now. Douxie brought his hood to his mouth to filter some of the air and began searching for you. It wasn’t a very big room, but between the fire, smoke, and items strewn throughout, it was proving more difficult than he’d hoped.

You let out a groan, the table pushing splinters into your leg.

He whipped his head towards the source of the sound, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. “Y/N?! Y/N, where are you?” he cried.

Weakly, you spoke through a great cough. “...Douxie? Is that you?”

He hurried to the large pile of wood and began tearing it apart. “It’s me, it’s me, love. Please be alright, please, please, please, you can’t die. You’re not going to die, love.”

Hisirdoux heaved the table off you just as you slumped to the floor. He lifted you by the arms with a mighty roar, dragging you towards the open doorway. Galahad and the knight from earlier ran to catch you both as Douxie slipped into unconsciousness.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Two days. You hadn’t stirred for two days. The sun shone softly through the long linen curtains. Your familiar was perched on the headboard, asleep. Douxie was sat up by your bedside, bandaged hands gingerly holding one of yours while Archie slept on your legs. The boy had gotten burned pulling the debris off of you. He hadn’t left your side, save when the castle nurses forced him to eat, bathe, and sleep. They knew him well, uncoordinated as he was, and it broke their hearts to see him look so tired although the past couple of days were the most rested he’d ever been. He was scared. Everything had gone downhill when he found out you were soulmates and he blamed himself.

“None of this would have happened if I’d just told you. You could have been away from the tower, safe with me. I was too afraid of losing you. All I knew was you loved someone else and I couldn’t let you guilt yourself into abandoning ‘him’ because we’re bonded. I was on my way to tell you, you know. I saw what you were thinking to Corinth and Archie convinced me to go after you. I-” his voice cracked, fresh tears coming to his eyes. “I love you, Y/N. I have long before I knew about the bond. I hurt you. I hurt us both. If only I wasn’t such a coward…” He was weeping now, head hung low and shoulders shaking. “I love you so much, and I still let this happen,” he stammered between quiet sobs. He brought your hand to his forehead, cradling it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, you were.

He jumped when your hand slowly withdrew from his. His head snapped up, and there you were. Sun shining behind you like a halo, your eyes glinting in a tearful smile. You wiped the tears from his cheek, just like he’d done to you with the unruly slorr all those months ago, and let out a yelp of surprise. Douxie had thrown his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

“Doux! Your hair tickles,” you croaked, bringing your arms around him. He was crying again, just a little. His chest felt light. You were here. You were okay. Archie had woken when you jumped and was padding up to your face, pushing himself against your cheek. You sat up slowly when Douxie released you and patted the space next to you on the cot. He settled and looked up at you, eyes still sad.

“So, uh. How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” You cupped his face. “Douxie. I didn’t fall in love with a coward. I fell in love with the bravest, most selfless wizard in Camelot. Not to mention his adorable manbun. I love you too, Hisirdoux Casperan. Soul bond or not, I want to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

He brought his hand to yours, feeling the tiny curl trap blossom on the ring he made you. Gently, he took their hand in his, admiring the accessory. “Even after all I did, you kept it on.”

“And I don’t plan on ever taking it off,” you smiled.

He slowly removed the ring, taking hold of your left hand. His eyes were hopeful and a little scared when he looked up at you, fingers pausing. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Promise?”

“With my whole heart, love.”

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss as he slipped the promise ring onto your finger.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Lance had lost his arm in the explosion but was rather excited about his new prosthetic. You two had healed as well, soon going back to work. Every time you passed one another, fingers brushed, kisses were stolen, and smiles were shared. The entire castle ended up hearing about how you two became so close, and soon enough, you were somewhat of a folk tale amongst the townsfolk. Now, every Christmas, soulmates exchange handmade gifts while sharing sweetbuns, now deemed a good omen for true love.

Even now, 900 years later, you’d hide your smiles as Arcadian couples surprised one another with things they’d made while ordering an eclair at Benoit’s. It’d been so long, but it seems some things stay the same, you and Hisirdoux included. Sure, you’d both grown in character, but around you, he was still the same lovesick fool he had been all those years ago. You still had your ring, which he’d embellished a bit on your wedding day. Douxie still thought about you as much as he did then. Today, while you were at your job at HexTech, you smiled adoringly at the words on your wrist.

“Your eyes are such a lovely color. Oh, how far we’ve come from clumsy accidents and runny ink. I love you, darling. More than you can ever know.”

#douxie #douxie x reader #soulmate au #x reader #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux casperan x reader #toa wizards #tales of arcadia wizards #wizards douxie #wizards archie #toa merlin #toa #idfk what tags to use man #furbleart #it counts #furblewrites #yayyy writing tag for all the ideas ive got but will probably never be done

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royalpain16 · 3 years

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A Brief History of Princess Diana’s Fiery Family

HADLEY HALL MEARES

JUNE 29, 2021 4:04 PM

According to Tina Brown’s The Diana Chronicles. Indeed, the role of the aristocratic family of Diana, Princess of Wales, for centuries has been that of royal disrupter. This legacy stretches to the 14th century, with their disputed ancestor Hugh Despenser’s alleged torrid affair with King Edward II and Despenser’s eventual brutal execution. Clever, charming, and fiery, much like Diana, her ancestors learned how to play the royal game—and then ripped up the rule book.

“Nearly 300 years on, my father would talk about him with an ashamed, resigned chuckle,” Charles, Earl Spencer, writes in The Spencers: A Personal History of an English Family of the mercurial family blackguard Robert Spencer (1641-1702). While the second earl would secure the Spencers’ status as political power players for centuries, he was also “cunning, supple [and] shameless” with “a restless and mischievous temper, a cold heart, and an abject spirt.”

Sunderland’s ascendancy began in the 1670s when he orchestrated King Charles II’s secret pact with England’s traditional enemy, France. Securing large payments from the French king and court for Charles II and himself, Sunderland was rewarded when he was appointed secretary of state.

After double-crossing Charles II’s illegitimate son, the Duke of Monmouth, Sunderland cleverly insinuated himself with new King James II. He converted to Catholicism to appeal to the very Catholic king, and became one of James II’s closest advisers. But the king, though he valued the brilliant man’s diplomatic skills, was fully aware of Sunderland’s duplicity.

James II finally dismissed Sunderland from service in 1688, and he was later exiled. But in December of that year, James II was deposed by the Glorious Revolution, bringing his daughter Mary and her husband, William, Prince of Orange, (with whom Sunderland had conspired) to the throne.

Again in favor, he was rewarded with the post of Lord Chamberlain before retiring from public life in 1697. “Too much cannot be said of his talents,” one historian noted. “Nor too little of his principles.”

The Boss: Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough

The daughter of Parliamentarian Richard Jennings and his scandalous wife, Frances, the passionate, brilliant Sarah (1660-1744) started out as a maid of honor in the court of James II. She became the most powerful woman in England, through her magnetic control of the future Queen Anne, a comparative dullard who worshipped her and perhaps became her lover. (You may remember their relationship from the 2018 movie The Favourite, in which Rachel Weisz played Sarah.)

For Sarah, her friendship with Anne was a way to advance her family and her liberal Whig politics, which she shared with her equally powerful husband, the military hero the Duke of Marlborough. “I hated tyranny by nature,” she wrote in one version of her memoir, according to Ophelia Field’s The Favourite: The Life of Sarah Churchill. “I thought mankind was born free, & if Princes were ordained to make their subjects happy; so I had always in me an invincible aversion to slavery, & to flattery.”

In 1700, Sarah arranged the marriage of her distant relation Charles Spencer, the future Third Earl of Sunderland, with her favorite daughter, Anne. Over the next 44 years, she would shape the family fortunes—and gift them with their famed auburn-tinted locks.

According to The Favourite: The Life of Sarah Churchill, with Anne’s accession to the throne in 1702 Sarah reached the peak of her power, racking up virtually every important post in Queen Anne’s suite, dictating cabinet appointments, and encouraging the ire of satirists.

But cracks would soon begin to appear. Queen Anne was naturally inclined to support the royalist Tories and was encouraged in these leanings by a new favorite named Abigail. A vindictive Sarah became a master propagandist, leaking insinuations about their relationship to the press, and allegedly threatening to blackmail Anne over the contents of their highly charged correspondence.

Sarah was finally forced to vacate her royal apartments in 1711, but she was not down for the count. A brilliant businesswoman, she became the richest woman in England, according to Field, controlling her Spencer grandchildren with promises of money and power. Centuries before the modern Diana and Prince Charles wed, Sarah even attempted to marry her favorite granddaughter—Lady Diana Spencer—to the broke Frederick, Prince of Wales, with a promise of 100,000-pound dowry. The plan fell through.

But not all her grandchildren were willing to be manipulated by their formidable matriarch. Sarah claimed her equally tough granddaughter Anne “[deserved] to be burnt,” and she disinherited her grandson Charles, Fifth Earl of Sunderland, which prompted him to write her:

As for putting me out of your will…I neither expected or desired to be in it. I…assure Your Grace that this is the last time I shall ever trouble you by letter or conversation. I am Your Grace’s grandson, Sunderland.

Sarah’s letter back was brutal. “You end that you are my grandson. Which is indeed a very melancholy truth…had you not been my grandson, you would have been in as bad a condition as you deserve to be.” Fitting words from a woman immortalized by Alexander Pope thusly:

Sixty years the World has been her Trade, The wisest Fool much Time has ever made. From loveless youth to unrespected age, No Passion gratify’d except her Rage.

The Star: Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire

From the start there was something special about Georgiana (1757-1806), the coddled daughter of John, First Earl Spencer and his wife, Margaret. The captivating teenager married the sophisticated William, Duke of Devonshire, in 1774, and quickly became a sensation in London’s highest circles. “[The Duchess of Devonshire] effaces all,” Horace Walpole wrote, according to The Devonshires: The Story of a Family and a Nation. “Her youth, figure, flowing good nature, sense…and modest familiarity, make her a phenomenon.”

Georgiana soon found her cold, older husband was not nearly as interested in her as everyone else. Luckily, she had many talents with which to amuse herself. She set fashions of the day, developed her own haughty way of speaking, known as the “Cavendish drawl,” and became dear friends with Marie Antoinette, according to Amanda Foreman’s The Duchess. She was also a successful novelist, and an amateur scientist.

But it was Georgiana’s brilliance as a Whig operative that would turn her into a target of the press. Constantly brainstorming with her friend, George, Prince of Wales, and political soulmate Charles James Fox, she hosted countless summits at her home. Georgiana was, she later wrote, “in the midst of the action,” seeing

“partys rise and fall—friends be united and disunited—the ties of love give way to caprice, to interest, and to vanity…”

Georgiana also worked essentially as a campaign manager for Whig candidates. During the 1784 election she bravely canvassed the street for Fox, charming Londoners with her common touch. “During her canvass,” Walpole wrote, “the Duchess made no scruple of visiting some of the humblest of electors, dazzling and enchanting them by the fascination of her manner, the power of her beauty and the influence of her high rank.”

According to Foreman’s The Duchess, there were rumors Georgiana kissed men in exchange for votes, leading to scurrilous cartoons distributed by the Tory opposition. “You have almost unavoidably amassed a great deal of useless trash—gathered weeds instead of flowers,” Lady Spencer wrote Georgiana. “You live so constantly in public you cannot live for your own soul.”

Her mother was worried about more than bad press. The hard-partying Georgiana was one of a long line of Spencer gambling addicts. She also had a laudanum dependency, and a scandalous ménage à trois arrangement with her husband and the disreputable Bess Foster. Calamity struck in 1792, when Georgiana became pregnant by the future Prime Minister Charles Grey and was banished from the country for a while.

Georgiana returned to her husband and children two years later. For the remainder of her life she battled ill health, but continued her role as a political operative, aware of what she could have been. “Would I were a man,” she mused to Sir Philip Francis. “To unite my talents, my hopes, my fortune, with [Charles James Fox’s], to make common cause, and fall or rule.”

From the start, the Spencer legacy laid heavily on John Spencer’s (1924-1992)

shoulders. As a child he was constantly cowed by his genealogically obsessed, brutal father, who considered him an intellectual lightweight. “He used to dread the train journey home [from boarding school],” his son, Diana’s brother Charles, writes. “He would hide in shadows of the train carriage, hoping his father had forgotten to collect him.”

But by the 1940s, John’s heroism as a captain in the Royal Scots Greys during World War II, and his tall, good looks and simple charm made him a most eligible bachelor. According to the documentary When the Spencers Met the Monarchy, he was even once looked at by the palace as a suitor to the future Queen Elizabeth II.

Instead, in 1954, Queen Elizabeth II (whom he served as an equerry) attended his wedding to heiress Frances Roche at Westminster Abbey. The couple had four children—Sarah, Jane, Diana, and Charles (another son, John, died shortly after birth). They were a mismatched pair, he rather dull and she vivacious, but John was reportedly blindsided when he discovered Frances was cheating on him. “How many of those years were happy?” he later said of his marriage. “I thought all of them until the moment that we parted.”

After the dissolution of his marriage, John became Diana and Charles’s primary caregiver and developed what Lord Glenconner once termed “an unfortunate raw sausage look.” Although he was stiff and old-fashioned, he attempted to be an involved father, and Diana was determined to be his “comforting angel,” according to The Diana Chronicles.

In 1975, John’s fortunes turned when his curmudgeonly father died, making him the Eighth Earl Spencer. According to Andrew Morton, he also inherited a 2.25-million-pound bill for death duties as well as 80,000-pounds-a-year running costs for Althorp, the family estate in Northamptonshire. He also found a helpmate to run Althorp in the fascinating Raine, Countess of Dartmouth, whom he married in 1976 without even telling his children. “We weren’t invited. ‘Not grand enough,’” his daughter Sarah quipped to a reporter at the time.

Despite the flippant tone, John’s betrayal would cause a deep rift in the family. A severe stroke in 1978 caused him to become frail and even more distant from his children. “He was one person before and he was certainly a different person after,” Princess Diana said, according to Morton. “He’s remained estranged but adoring since. If he comes and sees me he comes and sees me, if he doesn’t he doesn’t. It’s not my problem anymore. It’s his.”

The Rebel: Frances Shand Kydd

Frances Ruth Roche (1936-2004) wasn’t from as noble stock as the Spencers, but her family was far richer. Her father Maurice, fourth Baron Fermoy, was a conservative politician and a “terrible bottom pincher,” Lady Glenconner says in The Diana Chronicles, while her wealthy mother, Ruth, was a scheming, incurable snob and great friend of Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.

It was Ruth who encouraged a teenage Frances to marry the much older John Spencer, despite her tender age. “When you meet someone at the age of 15 and get engaged just five months out of school at 17, you can look back and ask, ‘Was I adult?’” she asked years later. “I sure thought I was at the time.”

The couple cultivated a farm at her family home of Park House in Norfolk, but Frances was quickly disillusioned with life in the country as a young aristocratic mother. “I’m so bloody bored with opening village fetes,” she told a friend. It was no wonder that the fiery Frances wanted more. “She was very attractive and blonde and sexy with such joie de vivre and fun about her,” a friend told Brown, author of The Diana Chronicles.

By the 1960s, Frances escaped to London more and more. She also started having an affair with a married bon vivant named Peter Shand Kydd. In 1967, she separated from John and left her two youngest children with him. “The biggest disruption was when Mummy decided to leg it. That’s the vivid memory we have—the four of us,” Princess Diana later told Andrew Morton.

Frances fought for custody of the children but lost to John, partially due to her own mother, Baroness Fermoy, who testified against her. Social outcasts, the Shand Kydds eventually moved to the coast of Scotland, and their warm household was a refuge for her children when they were allowed to visit. “Diana and I adored it for its wild beauty and the fun we had on the sea, lobster potting and mackerel-fishing,” Charles Spencer recalls.

Frances counseled against her youngest daughter’s marriage to Prince Charles, seeing too many parallels to her own first marriage—including her mother’s encouragement of the match. According to Brown, after voicing her concerns, Diana said, “Mummy, you don’t understand. I love him.” Frances replied, “Love him, or love what he is?” To which Diana asked rhetorically, “What’s the difference?”

The Grande Dames: Barbara Cartland and Raine Spencer

Perhaps no writer influenced generations of British romantics—including Princess Diana—more than Barbara Cartland (1901-2000). The author of 723 books, Cartland had, in the words of Brown, a “penchant for pink, her meringue coiffure and false eyelashes,” which betrayed a steely, snobbish character that was tough as nails.

Cartland would pass both her strength and outrageousness on to her daughter Raine (1929-2016), whom she raised to be, in Brown’s words, a “social monster baby.” Not only did she nab Gerald Legge, Ninth Earl of Dartmouth, but she also forged a career as a conservative politician, becoming the youngest person to ever serve on the Westminster City Council.

“She never took any prisoners, and never took no for an answer,” a friend recalled.

In the early 1970s, Raine set her sights on the divorced John Spencer. “She wanted to marry Daddy; that was her target and that was it,” Princess Diana recalled. According to sources, “Acid Raine” alienated the children and old friends. She also took the reins of Althorp, allegedly selling off family treasures and decorating it in her and her mother’s garish style.

During the lead-up to Diana’s wedding to Prince Charles in 1981, what to do with the clownish Cartlands became a national conversation. According to Brown:

Alexander Chancellor, the editor of The Spectator, wrote an editorial in which he called for a special Act of Parliament to ban Raine and her mother from St. Paul’s Cathedral, adding, “For it would be more than a little unfair on everybody if these two absurdly theatrical ladies were permitted to turn a moving national celebration into a pantomime.” Diana was so afraid the pantomime might indeed take place, she pressed for stratagems to blackball Cartland.

In the end Raine was invited but her mother was not. This would not be the most awkward Spencer wedding—that prize would go to Charles Spencer’s first wedding in 1989, where Diana scolded Raine for her rudeness to their mother. “If only you knew how much we all hated you for what you’ve done, you’ve ruined the house, you spend Daddy’s money and what for?” she hissed.

For her part, Raine would tire of being the scapegoat for the Spencer dysfunction. “I’m absolutely sick of the ‘wicked stepmother’ lark,” she said, according to Kitty Kelley. “You’re never going to make me sound like a human being, because people like to think I’m Dracula’s mother.”

Surprisingly, Diana would come to agree. Toward the end of her life, she grew close to her stepmother, whose no-nonsense advice she came to admire. However, it appears there was no love lost between Diana and her former favorite writer, who would quip of the royal breakup, “Of course, you know where it all went wrong. She wouldn’t do oral sex.”

The Role Model: Lady Sarah McCorquodale

Born in 1955, Sarah Spencer was the oldest, and wildest of John and Frances Spencer’s brood. Reckless and salty from an early age, Brown writes that she was kicked out of boarding school and rode her horse into her grandmother’s living room. “Sarah always had to be the best at everything,” a friend recalled. “The best car, the wittiest put-down, and the best dress.”

She also had a constant shadow in her youngest sister, Diana. “I idolized my eldest sister and I used to do all her washing when she came back from school. I packed her suitcase, ran her bath, made her bed—the whole lot. I did it all and I thought it was wonderful,” Diana told Morton.

In 1977, Sarah, who had suffered from anorexia, according to Brown, met Prince Charles at Ascot. The two began dating, and it was Sarah who introduced Diana to the prince during a shooting party at Althorp (“I’m cupid,” she’d later quip). “I remember,” Diana later said, “feeling desperately sorry for him that my sister was wrapped around his neck because she’s quite a tough old thing.”

But Sarah’s romance with the prince would soon end. She made the mistake of talking to reporters. Not only did she reportedly confess to having “thousands of boyfriends,” she also disparaged Charles as a hopeless romantic. “I wouldn’t marry a man I didn’t love, whether it was a dustman or the King of England,” she said. “If he asked me I would turn him down.”

This cardinal sin would cause Sarah to be promptly frozen out, with Charles reportedly informing her, “You’ve just done something extremely stupid.” And so, only three years later Charles would begin to court the blossoming Diana. Perhaps there was a hint of jealousy in her alleged counsel to a despondent Diana to not pull out of the wedding over his relationship with Camilla: “Bad luck, ‘Duch. Your face is on the tea towels so you’re too late to chicken out.”

#princess diana #lady diana spencer #the spencers #the spencer family #a brief history into princess Diana's fiery family

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cheershalo · 4 years

Text

Here are my favorite larry college/university aus (in order longest to shortest)!

*note: I am not including any a/b/o ones in this list but I’ll do a separate list for those!

*also: most of these are b!L because that’s what i like to read! smut or no-smut is marked as well as the basic tags!

Remember to leave kudos and comment on all these lovely fics if you decide to read!!

🏫 Never Be by @cherrystreet | 117k | b!L - (studying abroad, strangers to friends to lovers, pining, amazing!)

The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

🏫 Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante | 113k | b!L/H - (enemies to friends to lovers, frat boy harry, football player harry, ballet dancer louis, a classic)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

🏫 nothing worsens, nothing grows by @soldouthaz | 103k | b!L - (enemies to to lovers, ot5 friendship, roadtrip au, doesn’t really take place AT the uni, but i’m counting it because it’s phenomenal, d/s undertones, perfect!)

another roadtrip au featuring harry as the misunderstood hipster, louis as the bitter psych major, liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

🏫 The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles | 47k | b!L - (enemies to lovers, hockey player harry, hockey player louis, frat boy harry, d/s undertones, amazing!)

Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other

🏫 Just a Feeling by @crazyupsetter | 44k | b!L - (smut, fluff, frat boy harry, sequel to have you coming back again (lower on the list!), lovely and feel good!)

The first time that Harry thinks about marriage in relation to Louis, he’s eighteen years old, standing in the middle of a crowded frat house, six drinks down and another in his hand.

It’s not the first time that he’s laid eyes on Louis. It’s not even the second time, or the third time, but Harry doesn’t believe in denying what his brain is trying to tell him, and his brain has been telling him that Louis might be the prettiest person in the world ever since that first fateful meeting, when Harry hadn’t been able to stop looking and Louis had ‘accidentally’ spilled his tea all over Harry’s lap in retaliation.

🏫 bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight | 41k | b!L - (enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits, bdsm, really fucking hot, minor angst & jealous harry, perfect in every way <3)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

🏫 Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl | 40k | b!L - (strangers to friends to lovers, fake/pretend relationship, frat boy harry, adorable!)

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

🏫 All The Right Moves by @cherrystreet | 32k | b!L - (very minor enemies to lovers, as in harry is annoyed by louis, but then he meets him <3, smut & fluff, basketball player harry!)

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

🏫 push you out, pull you back in by @behisoneandonly | 32k | b!L - (strangers to lovers, med student harry, fashion student louis, hurt/comfort, d/s undertones, loveeeee)

Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

🏫 Have You Coming Back Again by @crazyupsetter | 31k | b!L - (smut & fluff, somewhat friends with benefits, frat boy harry, pranks, a CLASSIC!!!)

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.

Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.

He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

🏫 If Ignorance Be Bliss by orphan_account | 30k | b!L - (friends to lovers, roommates (sort of), experienced harry, d/s undertones, fluff & smut, masturbation, jealousy, love!)

Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

🏫 Can’t Fool Me by @lads-laddylads | 30k | b!L - (smut & fluff, frat boy harry, d/s undertones)

Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.

🏫 Play The Odds by @alivingfire | 26k | b!L - (childhood best friends to lovers, roommates, bets and wagers, lots of kissing <33)

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

🏫 Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) by TinyBeautifulTales | 25k | b!L - (fluff & smut, very soft and beautiful, frat boy harry)

an ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.

(aka: a college au, harry is a frat boy, and louis wants to know all of his secrets.)

🏫 (summer is over) and i wanna leave you satisfied by @doncasterkitten | 25k | b!L - (roommates, prince harry, ballet dancer louis, hockey player harry, d/s undertones, fun!)

On the very last night of his summer break in London, Louis Tomlinson hooks up with a hot guy. When he gets back home, his roommates tell him that they're going to be getting a new roommate. Said roommate? The same hot guy he hooked up with back in London: Harry Styles, who's looking for a quiet place to go to school and just wants to keep his head down. Funny how he keeps getting noticed, though....

🏫 Love Me Please by @angelichl | 23k | no smut - (soulmates, frat boy harry, instance of a panic attack, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort)

Louis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs.

The only problem?

They're soulmates.

🏫 runnin’ like you did by olaveya | 20k | b!L - (enemies to lovers, angst, pining, oblivious louis, fluff & smut)

A college au where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles

🏫 Deflower Me by @quelquesetoiles | 20k | b!L - (19x19, frat boy harry who isn’t actually a frat boy, virgin louis, pwp?, d/s undertones, hot hot hot, love love love)

Louis is a proud virgin, and no matter how much society tries to make him feel like a freak for not acting on his natural urges, he doesn't suffer from his lack of experience. He has never felt drawn to someone in a way that made him want to get involved sexually with them, and he isn't planning on rushing himself so he can get some because people think it's what he should do.

In walks Fratboy, the Serial Haunter of His (wet) Dreams, who thankfully has a little business going on that might be just what Louis needs.

🏫 No Place Without You by @fackinglouis | 19k | b!L - (strangers to friends to lovers, roommates, harry loves to travel, but he loves louis more <3, love love love)

Harry's in love with life and he's in love with the world.

Louis' in love with Harry and he doesn't think there's any way he can possibly compete.

🏫 Symptoms of a Culture by @fourdrunksluts | 15k | b!L - (fluff & smut, frat boy harry, competition, video games, d/s undertones, an all-time fav)

Harry's fraternity has become obsessed with the newest online game, and they'd like to think they're getting pretty good at it. Only, they keep getting killed by The Rogue, an online player who has no connection to the Frat, but seems to have a vendetta against them.

🏫 Every time that you get undressed (I hear symphonies in my head) by @theboyfriendstagram | 12k | b!L - (frat boy harry, insecure/depressed louis, fluff & angst & smut)

An AU in which Harry is the typical frat boy who doesn't believe in love but falls for the insecure mess that is Louis. Sex and fluff ensue.

🏫 poppies in may by @saffona | 9k | b!L - (friends with benefits, frat boy harry, some angst, fluff & smut)

And maybe he deserves it, Louis thinks bitterly. His hand curls around the fence tightly, and he feels like if he lets go he’ll slid onto the cold ground and never fucking get up again.

Maybe standing here, staring at Harry’s hunched over, retreating back is what he deserves.

🏫 a virgin to that money by eversincewefellapart | 7k | b!L - (enemies to lovers, sex tapes, friends with benefits-ish, hot!)

Harry and Louis are broke university students who hate each other and make a sex tape. (In which Louis gets fucked a lot, Harry can't find the camera, and the road to falling in love is different for everyone.)

🏫 Like You Hate Me by KrisStylinson | 7k | b!L - (enemies to lovers, roommates, d/s undertones, hot hot hot!)

“You have poor taste for someone with the last name Styles,” he says, turning to show the back of his pants to Harry—the pants Harry had just stitched his name across last night to keep this type of thing from happening again.

Of course, he’s accomplished nothing but indirectly making himself pop a stiffy over Louis fucking Tomlinson.

🏫 We’re Dancing On Tables by @allwaswell16 | 6k | np smut - (revenge, jealousy, miscommunication, fluff & smut, happy ending, cute!)

Last week, Louis went on the very best date of his life with the hot guy from his chemistry lab, which was great until the guy never texted him or called him afterwards. Everything is great. Everything is fucking great. Now this guy has the nerve to show up at Louis’ house party, which of course forces Louis to plot to ruin his night.

🏫 you’re safe like the springtime by @soldouthaz | 5k | np smut - (enemies to lovers, trapped in library, misunderstandings, pwp, grinding/dry humping, short but sweet!)

And it's bad enough that he's trapped in the library during a storm, but it's infinitely worse that he's stuck in the library during a storm with his teammate and sworn enemy - Harry Styles.

Okay, so this ended up being a lot longer than I thought (26 fics if I counted correctly) and also included a whole lot more enemies to lovers than I thought (what can I say? it’s a favorite) but every single one of these fics is lovely and deserves attention! Again, remember to leave kudos and comments if you check them out!

Also feel free to let me know if I made any errors!

You can request a category for another fic rec list here.

#fic rec list #my fic rec lists #categories #college aus #jem's favs

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itswildwinters · 3 years

Text

Hello lovelies and welcome to my October 2020 fic recs. These are the fics that I read these last few months. The main pairing is Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles.

This is also an appreciation post to all writers out there. Thank you for contributing so much to the fandom, for making all these incredible pieces of work for us all to read!

I’m wishing you all a happy Halloween in advance!

If you check out any of those incredible fics below, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show your appreciation!

Enjoy!

From What I’ve Tasted of Desire by @evilovesyou

When Louis moves to the small Scottish town of Fortrose to spend some time with his father, he thinks he's come to terms with the fact that the next two years of his life will be rainy and dull. That changes when he meets the ever-elusive Harry Styles in his Biology class and he makes it his goal to find out the big secret surrounding him and his family. Louis unexpectedly finds himself in the eye of a storm of secrecy, age-old myths, friendship and romance.

Twilight AU / Vampires / Werewolves / Slow Burn / Highschool & College AU

eyes off you by @soldouthaz

“Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe while we’re in there,” Liam says.

Through the crack in the door, Louis can just barely make out the broad curve of Harry’s back, the slope of his curls as they tumble down all sleep-soft and lazy, and the sharp twist of his arm - all leading down to where he’s got his pointer and middle finger crossed over each other behind his back.

“I promise,” he tells Liam firmly, “I promise.”

or; a charlie’s angels inspired fic where louis is the brains, harry is the charm, liam is the muscle, and niall drives the getaway car - and zayn is there, too. sometimes.

Action / Pining / Assassins (kill bad people)

Walls by Travis_Crux

Following his line of sight, he frowned and shook his head, "What's wrong?"

"Wasn't your timer on your ring finger?" Liam asked, at that the Alpha immediately swapped the tumbler and looked down at his finger which sported a string of tiny blue flowers on the underside of his ring finger.

The two of them looked at one another.

"You could've touched nearly fifty people by the time you grew delirious," Liam advocated, always the voice of reason. "Comrades, nurses, doctors."

Sighing, he turned away and continued drinking the water. Literally, the only fucking thing remaining in the middle of a fucking war.

Harry has his soulmate timer stuck at zero from the beginning of time but suddenly the fates show mercy and a lovely forget-me-not takes the place of his timer. In between finding his soulmate in a war camp and solving the puzzle of the charismatic doctor who is treating him, all he can hope for is to live.

ABO / World War I / Soulmates / Angst / Hurt-Comfort

works like a charm by @falsegoodnight

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

Harry Potter Setting / Porn With Plot / Enemies to Lovers

(quiet like a fight) fingers laced together by @letthemkissyou

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

Or, the one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it's a whole new world for the both of them.

Hybrid Louis / Past Abuse / Fluff / Angst

We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) by fondleeds

There’s tense silence, the whole room completely hushed. The other teams on surrounding tables look between each other. Then, Louis pushes himself away from the table noisily, chair scraping. His face is angered and crumpled, red at the ears. The door slams behind him as he rushes out. The surrounding teams look at Harry simultaneously.

“God, Simon is going to kill us if we don’t die on this mission first,” Niall moans into his hands.

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

Demons / Enemies to Lovers / Violence / Angst / Fluff / Demon Hunters / Smut

Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse

“We have to get out of here, outside,” Harry whispered, turning his hand in Louis’s grip to hold on and pull them both to their feet. “And how do we fucking do that?” Louis hissed, carefully rising and pulling Harry to his feet before Harry could do it. His gaze darted to the front then back of the arena. “None of the doors are where they’re supposed to be.” “What?” Harry looked around again too, couldn’t see any doors, only knew that they must be there, somewhere. “How do you know?” Confusion slid over Louis's features. “Because we’ve been here before, Haz. It’s the O2.” The show. It must be the first night of their tour. They were too late; they were out of time.

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.

Ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a lot of Harry and Louis alone together, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

Friends to Lovers / Fluff / Angst / Action / Adventure / Magical Realism / Hurt-Comfort / Slow Burn

Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by @crazyupsetter

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

Explicit Sexual Content / Vampires / Incubus / Dubious Consent / Blood / Violence

The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

ABO / Omega Louis / Alpha Harry / Worldbuilding / Slow Burn / Fluff / Angst

Just a bit of work by missyoutoosweetscheeks

It was quite painfully pathetic, really. Twenty five, stable job, stable flat, stable mind (well, quite), a painfully non-existent love life with an even more painfully intact virginity.

Marcel didn't think his life was going to get better with his painfully aparent sociopathic tendencies to block anyone who showed interest in him.

Until, of course, he became Louis Tomlinson's next prey.

In which Marcel is a virgin, and becomes his office's amorous co-worker's next big conquest.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Office Sex / Dubious Consent / Porn Without Plot

Fuck U Betta by @jacaranda-bloom

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

Porn Without Plot / Light BDSM / Top Harry / Bottom Louis

push you out, pull you back in by @behisoneandonly

Harry grips his head in his hands helplessly, yanking the base of his dark curls and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the strands of his hair.

“Hey, hey,” says the petite stranger in front of him, quickly standing up. “Stop, you’re hurting yourself.”

–

Or Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

College/University AU / medical student Harry / Fashion student Louis / Strangers to Lovers / Pining / fluff / slight angst / Hut-Comfort / Anger Management

might we be stardust stories by ryanreynolds

"It was easier being at war."

In which werewolves and vampires have been fighting each other for a century, and Harry and Louis' marriage is what's gonna bring peace to the realm. Hopefully.

Werewolves / Vampires / Arranged Marriage / Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Pining / Fantasy

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

ABO / Fake-Pretend Relationship

until this blood runs cold by @soldouthaz

In a town as small as Louis’, everybody knows everybody and gossip spreads faster than the wildfires that rage on just outside their backdoors in the sweltering heat of summer. When something happens here everyone knows about it within seconds. Neighbors call neighbors and notes are left on doorsteps, old telephone lines ringing until there isn’t a single person who is left in the unknown.

So it’s definitely hot gossip when a vampire moves in across the street from him, the very same one who’s just become Louis’ boss.

Vampire Harry / Frottage / Blood Drinking

call you mine by @falsegoodnight

“I have a request.”

That’s what Louis Tomlinson says to Harry when he opens the front door a bit too aggressively. The latter feels justified after a round of annoyingly incessant knocking that was much too loud in the drowsy sludge of early Saturday morning.

“Zayn’s asleep,” is Harry’s tired, hoarse reply, irritation prickling at his skin. Less than a minute ago he was in bed, feeling perfectly content sprawled out on the mattress with the chilled air from the fan cool against his bare skin. And now he’s leaning up against the wooden door frame in nothing but his briefs because Zayn’s best mate decided that showing up unannounced at seven in the fucking morning was a brilliant idea.

“I’m not here for him,” says Louis curtly.

Or, Louis’ curious about how it feels to be bitten. Harry’s going to need more than just one bite.

Plot What Porn / Vampire Harry / Bottom Louis

your biggest fan by @soldouthaz

Just like everyone else, Louis has a few habits that he can’t seem to break. Guilty pleasures, rather. His nails are perpetually short because he can’t quit biting them, the bottom of his shoes scuffed from tapping his foot constantly. Sometimes his leg gets a cramp from bouncing it so often underneath his desk. That isn't too bad, he reckons, just some average teenage coping mechanisms.

And also, occasionally, minor instances of theft.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Porn What Plot / Nerd Louis / Jock Harry

give me love by @falsegoodnight & @soldouthaz

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

ABO / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis / Bottom Louis / Past Relationship Trauma / Slow Burn / Angst / Fluff

The Stars Look Very Different Today by @kingsofeverything

For Harry Styles, child genius turned glorified spaceship mechanic, rescuing lost or broken down ships is a fairly common occurrence.

There’s nothing common about his latest mission, the ship, or that ship’s captain.

The last thing he expects to find in a distant galaxy is the one thing he’s been missing on Earth.

Space / Time-Travel / Science Fiction & Fantasy / Enemies to Lovers

The cat is out of the bag by 28sunflowers

Harry somehow gets himself stuck as a black cat on Halloween and needs help from Louis to change back into his human form.

The problem is: Louis doesn’t even know witches exist, much less that Harry is one. And there’s also the fact he thinks Harry is ghosting him after they had sex for the first time.

So the situations isn’t ideal. But it’s okay. Harry will figure something out.

Light angst / Witch Harry / Potions Accident / Fluff and Humour

#fic recs #october 2020 #larry stylinson

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shefanispeculator · 3 years

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Gwen Stefani had begun working on new music before the lockdown hit, but says it was only when she brought up the idea of reintroducing herself to her collaborators that inspiration struck. “I'm not trying to force myself on anyone, and I'm not trying to have a comeback,” she says with a laugh. “I’m simply going to do some music without feeling defensive about it. Whoever likes me can listen. If you don't like it, you can actually say you don't like it! I don't care. I just want to put music out.”

After cutting a song in February with rising songwriter and producer Luke Niccoli (who’s worked with buzzy acts like Yves Tumor, Miya Folick, and Joji), Stefani was virtually introduced to pop hitmaker Ross Golan (Selena Gomez, The Chicks, P!nk), who suggested the trio write about exactly what the singer was feeling: a desire to remind people that she’s not just records collecting dust on your shelf.

“Let Me Reintroduce Myself,” released Monday, is a feel-good return to the ska/pop/reggae hybrid — record-scratching, horns, a walking bass line — that Stefani perfected during her time fronting No Doubt. Using her downtime in Oklahoma during the pandemic to dig back into ska’s roots, she immersed herself in the history of the genre, leading her to feel like now was the right moment to return to the sounds that first put her on the map 30 years ago. “All of the riots had happened, and I just started thinking so much about when I started loving music and why,” she says. “It was eighth grade when I learned about ska and Madness and the Selecter and all those bands that started to define the kind of music that I felt like I fit into; here I was, this Catholic girl from Anaheim doing reggae music! But that music was all about unity and anti-racism, and that was in the '70s. Then we were doing it in the '90s. And now here we are, again, in the same old mess.”

After the “Let Me Reintroduce Myself” writing session in late August (for which she later cut her vocals safely at the Los Angeles studio, the Village), Stefani began referring to Golan and Niccoli as her “song soulmates,” joining forces on a handful of other Zoom-born songs since then that will, if all goes according to plan, see the light of day some time in 2021. But for now, the No Doubt singer’s new track is a welcome return to form after five seasons judging The Voice, twice topping the country charts with fiance Blake Shelton, and building upon the success of her first-ever Christmas album, 2017’s You Make It Feel Like Christmas. “I just said, "I want to do some reggae,’” she remembers. “And it was just this weird full circle moment, because as soon as I started telling whoever I was going into the studio about that, they were so inspired too.”

In a call late last week, Stefani walked EW through returning to solo music, revisiting her back catalogue on the heels of Tragic Kingdom’s 25th anniversary, and how some of her biggest hits have gained new resonance in recent years.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: How are you feeling knowing this song is about to come out? GWEN STEFANI: Under the circumstances, to be able to put out new music is just beyond a gift. Even if it wasn't a pandemic it would be exciting, but it's crazy with the pandemic, you know what I'm saying? I just didn't think it was going to come this year or that I'd be this lucky.

What was your headspace like as you went into writing and recording new solo material this year? Well, this is the deal: I haven't really put a record out in five years. That's a long time. I don't know how it went by so quickly. I would have loved to, but I was doing the Vegas show [Just a Girl] and that took up a lot of time. Before that, I toured the record before, [2016’s This Is What the Truth Feels Like], and the next thing you know, five years passed. I also was feeling like... "Does anyone really want to hear new music from me?" It's so much work to make new music, and I think about all the bands that I loved — I don't go looking for their new records. I just listen to the stuff that I liked in high school .

Somebody sent me a song called “When Loving Gets Old,” and I really loved it. Nobody sends me songs. Why doesn't anyone just send me, like, “Umbrella”? I got this song, I actually liked it. I went in to record it. The girl that sent it to me said, "They actually wrote this for you." And I was like, "Really? No wonder the lyrics feel so good. Why don't I write with them?” We wrote this song called “Cry Happy,” made up of all of these lyrics I’d written on my phone. We had this really great day, but I had to rush home to the kids. It's so different these days; you get there and you have to get home to cook dinner, so I didn't get to cut a demo. That was last February. And then we hit lockdown.

I spent a hundred days in Oklahoma, doing laundry and cooking. We had 15 people there. It was an incredible pause on life to be there at the ranch with the boys and just have this surreal lifestyle for a while, but nothing to do with the life included creating music or anything like that. But Blake happens to have a studio there and had to do some work and brought an engineer in. So I recorded the vocals on “Cry Happy,” and that was like lighting a match to a wildfire because I was like, “My god, I’ve got to do music."

You felt inspiration again? I felt all kinds of inspirations and ideas. It's like God saying, "You’ve got to do this now." When I get that urgency, you can't stop me. I'm like, “I’ve got to go write songs. That's what I need right now. And I don't even care if anyone hears them, or if they think they suck, I'm doing it, now.”

When I got back to L.A., I went into the studio. Everything was plastic-guarded. You get your temperature taken. Everybody's wearing masks. By then, all of the riots had happened. I started to go back and investigate ska and reggae, and I found all these documentaries about how ska was born in the 1960s, how that was linked to the Jubilee when Jamaica was being freed from England. Starting No Doubt, we were the third-wave imitating the 1960s.Then I found this documentary on a school in Jamaica called the Alpha Boys School, which was run by Catholic nuns. There's this little white Catholic nun called Sister Mary Ignatius Davies who helped nurture reggae music. You can see all these pictures of her with these little boys and they're learning these brass instruments. The first ska band that was ever born was these kids out of Alpha Boys School, the Skatalites. No Doubt used to listen to them. Doing my research, it all just felt so full-circle.

So this music was born out of that. I wanted to go back and make something that was joyful and back to my roots, where it all started. [Pre-pandemic] I’d been in the studio with Luke Niccoli and he's the one that said you really should work with my friend Ross, who turned out to be someone who really gets my sarcasm, and the fun side of my lyrics. We really hit it off.

With Luke, we taught each other a lot, especially when it came to ska and reggae, because I kept saying, "Dude, no, listen to Sublime. It has to have scratching in it. It has to be '90s." So he was discovering all this stuff that he didn't know, but bringing his technology and youth to the sound. It was a perfect kind of combination between the three of us. And we wrote a bunch of songs together and I know we're going to write more.

Lyrically, “Let Me Reintroduce Myself” addresses the idea of people thinking of you as a relic. Is that how you feel? At the beginning of this process, I feel like I had to make excuses for why I wanted to make new music. I felt like people were going to judge me and be like, "Well, you're like super old. Why would you even want to?" This is just how my brain works. Anyone would, you know what I mean? Everybody has their own fears or insecurities.

Ross’s reaction was [for us to incorporate] a way of saying, “Well, I haven't really gone anywhere if you really think about it.” I just had a No. 1 hit on [country] radio ["Nobody But You"] — two of them actually, because the next one's ["Happy Anywhere"] going to go No. 1 soon [Editor’s note: it did, 24 hours after our call]. We were just trying to say I haven't really gone anywhere. I'm still doing the same thing. I still wear the same kind of stuff that I've always worn. It's just an evolution.

“Let Me Reintroduce Myself” references your past, lyrically and visually. Some artists are really loath to look backwards, but you seem extremely willing to. Why is that? Five years ago, when my life blew up in my face, there was a lot of looking back. Music has always been a really amazing place to pour my heart and emotions into. It's like therapy.

When I was offered to do the Vegas show — a huge milestone for me — it was very reflective. I think it's an incredible thing to put out new music and have your sound evolve, whether it be through the No Doubt years or the three solo records I did. The first solo record [2004’s Love. Angel. Music. Baby.] was very much a dance record — that was the pop music when I was in high school that I wasn't into, but was the backdrop of my life. Back then, I said, "You know what? I want to try to make that kind of music. I want a dance song." It was so incredible to be able to work with all the talented people that I did and have such a different kind of sound like that, which made me want to do the second record, [2007’s The Sweet Escape].

The third solo record was not born in the same way. It didn't have a reference for the production. It was just, “How do I get through this time in my life? I've got to write these songs. I don't care how they're dressed up sonically. It's just getting them out.” During the process of doing that, I fall in love and I'm writing a song about my life basically being over and then starting to fall in love at the same time, all with one album.

After that, it was like, how do I evolve? When you do a new record, usually everything comes with that: the tour, the merch, the vibe. But when you're doing a Vegas show, you don't have a new song. You don't have anything new. How do you create a show around everything you've done? So there was a lot of looking back and thinking about, “How do I make this feel super nostalgic? How do I make this feel like, when everyone's coming from around the whole world to see me in this room, we have this common story, and that these songs were the backdrop to our lives?”

This year marked the 25th anniversary of No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom. How has that record changed meaning for you over the years? I don't really like anniversaries. I don't really celebrate like, “Oh, I wore that in 1995. Now it's 10 years later, woo!” But then when it actually happened and I started seeing everyone posting and seeing all the stuff that we had done — things I don't remember, until I see the image — I was just overwhelmed, like, "Oh my god, we did that?" It was a really emotional couple of days. I really enjoyed hearing just how much that record impacted people. It really is truly mind-blowing to me that I get to do music, let alone to be part of people's lives in that way. It's hard to wrap my head around it.

I'm really proud of Tragic Kingdom. It was a very weird album. I was so naive. I didn't even know how to write a song. I don't know how I wrote those songs because I didn’t know anything back then. But doing the Vegas show was a really reflective time, because doing a song like “Just a Girl” every night felt more relevant than ever, especially in the last couple of years with the rise of the #MeToo movement. It feels like history repeating itself. We've come far, but we haven't. I always thought that I would outgrow that song and be a woman and not be able to sing the words “I'm just a girl” anymore, but it felt more relevant than it ever felt in my whole life. It was bizarre.

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

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OK, December 21

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Queen Elizabeth cancels Christmas

Page 1: Big Pic -- David Beckham in an ad for Haig Club

Page 2: Contents

Page 4: Bella and Olivia Jade Giannulli -- life on their own -- find out what Lori Loughlin and Mossimo Giannulli’s daughters have been up to while their famous parents sweat it out in prison -- Bella has been so stressed out and felt she deserved a trip with her buds so she went to a luxury resort in Santa Barbara over Thanksgiving weekend

Page 6: It’s been a little over a year since Felicity Huffman was released from prison after serving her time for role in the college admissions scandal but she is finally starting to get her life and career back on track -- initially she was nervous about working again given the controversy and everything that went down and she seriously wondered if there would be anything out there for her material-wise but she shouldn’t have worried as she landed a part in an upcoming pilot in which she’ll play a recently widowed owner of a Triple-A baseball team and she’s really excited about the show

Page 7: Kristin Cavallari is fed up with Carrie Underwood’s meddling in her divorce from Jay Cutler -- after Kristin called time on her seven-year marriage Carrie and her husband Mike Fisher who used to be Nashville couple-friends to both Kristin and Jay have taken Jay’s side and since then there’s been some snide stuff said that’s made it clear how Carrie really fills about Kristin -- while Jay spent Thanksgiving with Carrie and Mike, Kristin filmed a wine-fueled Instagram Live and Carrie finds this type of thirsty behavior on social media incredibly lame and she’s saying it’s obvious Kristin cares more about upping her profile than making any type of family peace

* After nearly 60 years in showbiz Cher has a different aspirations -- since traveling to Pakistan to help a mistreated elephant from a local zoo be relocated to an animal sanctuary she’s saying this is her new mission to help endangered species in third world countries and campaign for other good eco causes -- Cher spends much of her time cooped up and bored in her Malibu mansion and her trip made her realize there’s a world out there that needs her help

* Mark Harmon of NCIS is all work and no play these days and nearly two decades in the same TV gig as Leroy Gibbs has only made things worse as the responsibilities of the show seem to wear heavier on Mark by the year and even on a break you can’t get him to crack a smile or tell a joke; he’d rather go lie down in his trailer -- off set Mark and his wife of 33 years Pam Dawber get along because they’re such homebodies and Mark can usually be found working on his cars in the garage or relaxing in the yard and he cherishes his quiet time but people have stopped inviting him out because he’s known as Mr. Boring

Page 8: Dolly Parton is spreading Christmas cheer far and wide with a new TV special and album and Netflix movie but at her home in Tennessee the holiday spirit is decidedly lacking because Dolly is forgoing her favorite 40-year-running traditions which are filling her house with trees and driving her nieces and nephews and their kids around her farm in golf carts dressed as Santa and handing out presents because of her concern for her husband Carl Dean who has Alzheimer’s disease and he’s in a high-risk group for coronavirus so she’s restricted the property to just them and two staff members -- it breaks Dolly’s heart to have to cancel her big annual celebration and she’s still decorated her home to the nines but it’s a lonely feeling knowing the family won’t be there to see it

* Prince William and Duchess Kate Middleton are proving themselves to be perfectly postmodern parents by raising their kids Prince George and Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis with firm rules for TV and electronic use -- Kate who recently revealed she’s fielded her share of temper tantrums actively attempts to stave off meltdowns with a strict rewards chart and the kids have to earn screen time -- Kate prefers to keep them busy with activities like board games and hikes and baking which the children enjoy anyway

* After spending the last several years living a relatively low-key life in his native England Russell Brand is desperate to have a bigger presence in Hollywood but his wife Laura insists he stay put -- Russell’s craving SoCal living and the copious acting jobs and event invites that came with it but Laura prefers their British life outside the spotlight with their young daughters -- while some work has come to him in England like the upcoming Death on the Nile if he had his way he’d make a more aggressive career push in L.A.

Page 10: Red Hot on the Red Carpet -- stars stand out in festive green dresses -- Carly Pearce, Angela Bassett, Zendaya

Page 11: Jodie Comer, Adriana Lima

Page 12: Who Wore It Better? Melissa Gorga vs. Jennifer Lahmers, Abigail Spencer vs. Hailey Bieber in Max Mara, Olivia Culpo vs. Aurora Culpo

Page 14: News in Photos -- Brooke Burke with Christmas ornaments that will be auctioned by non-profit Operation Smile

Page 16: Audrina Patridge brought along her daughter Kirra’s favorite toys for a picnic in Beverly Hills, Padma Lakshmi visits The Vitamin Shoppe in NYC, Brandy at the BET Soul Train Awards

Page 17: Kelly Rutherford felt the love from her dogs in L.A., Shawn Mendes out for a walk in Miami

Page 21: Robin Wright and husband Clement Giraudet held hands while riding their bikes in L.A., long-time friends Gabrielle Union and Snoop Dogg unpacked ingredients delivered by Shipt

Page 22: Josh Duhamel on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, Karlie Kloss on her new Adidas collection

Page 24: Vanessa Hudgens snuggled up to her beloved pup Darla while at the park in L.A., Jay-Z taking a walk around the island in Hawaii

Page 25: Kimora Lee Simmons and her children handed out food to residents of a housing complex, Prince Jackson safely helped a community church distribute food to those in need

Page 26: Inside My Home -- Ariel Winter’s stylish setup

Page 28: Like most Garth Brooks and wife Trisha Yearwood have had a challenging 2020 but their 15-year marriage was put to the test this past summer when the country superstars’ daughter Allie tested positive for Covid-19 -- they were worried sick and had to go into quarantine themselves and not being able to hold Allie’s hand was terrible for both of them but fortunately Allie’s case was mild and Garth and Trisha’s tests came back negative

Page 30: Kylie Jenner and Travis Scott who have amicably coparented their daughter Stormi since their split last year and recently spent Thanksgiving together as a family are drawing up plans to have another baby together in 2021 because both of them want to give Stormi a sibling ASAP and neither can imagine going through this process with anyone else -- the exes are figuring out a contract to specify their family plans that will protect Kylie’s money and outline coparenting terms more formally and give them each an agreeable share of custody if things don’t stay as rosy down the line

* They’ve costarred in five films and have proclaimed they’re each other’s work wives and are finally single at the same time so pals of Jennifer Aniston and Jason Sudeikis are urging the longtime friends to give it a go romantically especially now that Jason has split from Olivia Wilde -- Jennifer always says Jason makes her laugh the way no one else can -- while Jason’s primarily focusing on coparenting his kids he’s long harbored warm and fuzzy feelings toward Jen and he would love to ask her out but the only thing holding him back is the potential to ruin their solid friendship

* Love Bites -- Johnny Galecki and Alaina Meyer split, Rihanna and A$AP Rocky dating, Jonathan Bennett and Jaymes Vaughan engaged

Page 31: Matthew Perry’s loved ones are worried the Friends star has made a rash call by suddenly getting engaged to literary manager Molly Hurwitz -- the on-off two-year romance between Matthew and Molly has been dysfunctional from the get-go and Matthew’s way more into this than Molly who seems to love him more like a brother

* A rough year for Prince Harry and Meghan Markle including inter-family strife and a move across the pond and a devastating miscarriage has only strengthened their bond -- after Meghan revealed she and Harry had miscarried in July the two were quite overwhelmed by the outpouring of compassion and the response not only validated their decision to go public a thousand times over but it also helped them grow even closer -- they’re determined to put this behind them and try for another baby at the earliest opportunity but more than anything else it’s really underlined how they belong together as soulmates

Page 32: Cover Story -- Queen Elizabeth’s holiday shake-up -- inside the monarch’s heartbreaking decision to call off the family’s annual Christmas celebration -- the queen will celebrate the holidays at Windsor Castle in Berkshire for the first time in more than three decades -- while the queen is upset not to have the company of the younger royals this year she has to think about her and Prince Philip’s health

Page 36: Katie Holmes’ season of joy -- how Katie is spending the holidays with her new love Emilio Vitolo Jr.

Page 38: Mistaken Identity -- with these celeb look-alikes it’s deja vu all over again -- Carrie Underwood and Reese Witherspoon, Daniel Radcliffe and Elijah Wood

Page 39: Mark Wahlberg and Matt Damon, Amy Adams and Isla Fisher, Lucy Hale and Selena Gomez

Page 40: Interview -- Tommy Lee’s new beat -- the veteran rock star opens up about his latest solo album and his new fan base

Page 42: Gal Power -- how Wonder Woman actress Gal Gadot gets into superhero shape

Page 43: Fight Club -- these buttkicking superheroines pushed themselves to new limits -- Brie Larson, Scarlett Johansson, Danai Gurira

Page 46: Style -- Zendaya for Lancome’s new mascara

Page 48: Sleek activewear from celeb-loved label Gigi C Bikinis makes it easy to look like a star when you work out

Page 49: 5 minutes with Adrienne Bailon

Page 54: Entertainment

Page 58: Buzz -- Disney Holiday Singalong featuring Ryan Seacrest, Katy Perry, Pink and daughter Willow, Ciara and her kids Future and Sienna

Page 60: Sound Bites -- Nelly on feeling disappointed with placing third on Dancing With the Stars, Kaley Cuoco on husband Karl Cook’s social media presence, Megan Fox on first meeting boyfriend Machine Gun Kelly

Page 61: Paul McCartney on why he doesn’t like taking pictures with fans, Cardi B joking about how her 2-year-old crashed her selfie video

Page 62: Horoscope -- Sagittarius Vanessa Hudgens turned 32 on December 14

Page 64: By the Numbers -- Dan Levy

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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 42

Updates came through pictures of the home floors being torn up that you had wished to change and repair, with glimpses of each room being finished off had arrived. Piles of wood came in the mail next with a shot of your new chandelier that was hung up in its place. Along with the pirate ship chandelier your dad had help swapping out one of the two circular sconces hung a good fourteen feet off the ground from the eighteen foot ceiling to give your dad a good head clearance after several checks on chain lengths to find the right level. The dining room was first and room by room the team got to assembling everything to the impressive sketches that were easily to transfer to diagrams they used for creating what you had dreamed of. Including the adorable rounded built in bench for your dining area on your floor to go with a small table you had yet to choose you wanted to shop for with Richard.

More and more it was coming together and with each room done your dad got to cleaning all that he could, knowing you’d have done the same thing to get it all ready to be touched with hands or bare feet, same as you’d wash clothes before wearing them. Upstairs in the kids floor and your dad’s spare bedroom the crew of workers got to creating the bunk beds you had designed to impressive detail that swapped easily to blueprints for them at how precise all the measurements and designated layout you had compiled for them. Built ins for the nursery were among that list with a better setup in the damaged closets through that floor. The cabinets and counters on the moved layout included the new island for the kitchen and a second in your closet with bench attached, all full of storage to add to your hideaways. All these were just the perfect and off to the side with disposable camera in hand he captured the whole process to get the tiles laid in perfectly level. Flooring for each room was laid when each built in had been completed to ensure the floors wouldn’t have to be redone again later.

A few days later when he was certain that the tiles were solidified and able to be scrubbed stirring up the lingering urge to buy you the appliances to fill the empty spaces between nights of eyeing your furniture trying to guess just where you might want to move everything. For his own floor at least he had pictured coupons cut out of what he wanted to get to furnish his area to go with the paint choices he wished to have. This would take a while to get the home finalized but over the rest of your lifetimes you could make it a home for you and your soon to be growing family.

Fresh off a night shoot through the apartment door you went smirking as you flipped through the latest group of pictures from your dad he’d sent by mail. Expecting the lights off when you noticed they were on and out of exhaustion it took a moment to realize that Richard must have flown in to surprise you a day earlier. After locking the door to the kitchen you went finding your groggy fiancé in just a pair of sweats cooking you supper humming to himself. His feet shuffling side to side and post flinch at your hands easing from his elbows down his arms he smirked hearing, “Wanna dance handsome?”

“For the rest of my life.” Around he turned enjoying a loving moment of dancing together with you between stolen stirs of the meal on the skillet. With a warm kiss once the skillet was moved to the cool burner the dance came to an end and simply serving out the food. Onto his lap you were settled to eat together beginning the process of sharing all you’d missed. “I’m so sorry I missed those days responding to your calls and messages, my Love.”

“It’s ok, knew it must have been important. Didn’t think it would be another house for us.”

“Well I think it’s perfect to start our marriage off on the right foot in a place that’s all ours. Brought you some pictures, we can go through yours as well, compare notes.”

“How come you didn’t tell me you were coming in early?” you said easing your arms around the back of his neck deepening his smile having you in his arms again.

“Date mix up this once, though I do love surprising you this once it was by chance.” His arms tightened and he lifted you up as he stood carrying you to bed, “Now, bedtime.”

Shared pictures had a trip to the nearest paint shop to look at paint swatches for you to give a try in the break before the flight to New Zealand. Small plans like where furniture would be moved had been sketched out and marked off a few tasks at least for the big move you had to handle soon. Thankfully easier with the bunk beds already built as a surprise from your dad that he had it handled for you including having bought the mattresses for the eight of them the crews were glad to help ease into place to finish the job off. The moving crew had been hired already for the date filming was through and they would help a bit to bring everything inside, all mostly staying on the main floor except for the mattress that you and your dad, if they refused, could get up to the third floor to the empty non nursery bedroom under the staircase.

Over the big move the one thing brighter than this was collecting and paying for the wedding band he couldn’t stop stealing glances at while you were at work beaming at how everything was falling into place. He only had another week until it was time to head back to England and it took everything in him not to spoil the surprise for Lee that he could be moving in with you as he clearly wanted and was hinting to. Pictures didn’t help while he practically pouted over the pictures of the basement he even made suggestions of what colors he would choose for those walls he later would confirm with a trip to the store to find swatches of his own.

Half a week more was all Richard could handle and chuckling to himself he was off to the airport leaving you the task of putting the young man out of his misery so he could plan moving in when you decided to. You wouldn’t mind living in a half done home as long as you were working to finish it. And against his urge to be there to help you get it ready he did have to get back to film another tv appearance to finish off the list of jobs that might keep him from being done in time to fly out to New Zealand to be with you again in that wonderful place. A feeling Richard shared of the new place he had bought until he was staying with you to film an extra slot in King Kong and assist with whatever extra roles Peter might need in Return of the King before the big trip back to New York to actually move in with you.

Scenes flew by and finally you had everything with Lee’s help in your living room, including his furniture that now his siblings had shared they grew out of the interest in having his hand-me-downs for their own college dorms. Thankful for sharing the moving truck along with the team he helped to empty the apartments that you both turned the keys in for making sure that the mail boxes were empty before you did so. The truck drivers gave an estimate on when they would arrive at the new place and once the taxi arrived the trip to the same lovely airport was underway.

Trying to deflect the subject you asked Lee, “Glad you got some new clothes?” Referring to the wardrobe the film crew let you guys have. While some of the pieces you wore were a bit out of your taste you were thrilled to get the fluff accented jacket from your winter scenes along with the silver daisy ring you now wore on your right ring finger that had helped to cover the ring indent from your engagement ring while on screen. All the rest could be passed on to your cousins back in Texas or donated.

“I do enjoy free clothes, thought they might charge us for them though. Had to pay for one of the guys’ jackets on Soldier’s Girl.”

“I think it might be for our unique measurements.”

“No, they gave Tracy her wardrobe too, whole main slot got theirs,” making his brows furrow, “Kind of odd though. Like a fire sale.”

“Maybe they just do that for their Canadian shows, dump the wardrobes. Glad they didn’t try to give me that car. That clutch was bitchy as hell.”

Lowly he chuckled, “Thought it was just my feet being bigger than yours.” That had his eyes on you and his pout coming on, “Thanks again for letting me put my stuff in your basement. It won’t be in the way? Of all your things?”

You smirked answering, “No, I am fairly certain it won’t be.”

“Do you know when you’re going to move in?”

“Dad’s been picking up some tarps and stuff for us to get started on the primer for the rooms that were patched, which is pretty much all of the ones from the main floor up. Guess the old guy ran out of energy at the basement he only broke the pantry. Then there’s appliances.”

“So, like a few weeks?”

“Don’t know, we’ll see, a lot of walls to cover.”

“Any faster if I help?”

“If you like, but you don’t have to.”

“I like to paint.”

Security went easily except for the awkward grin you traded with the security agent who looked inside the box in his hand and then to you, “My wedding band.”

“Congratulations,” he said. Closing the box he put back in your satchel he asked you to empty for him seeing an unreadable clump of that and your pens and coin purse that didn’t turn out to be anything dangerous at all. The reveal greatly calmed his nerves from a start of the shift find he had been sharing with the other guards of how the passenger was arrested when the items were to be confiscated.

“Thank you, was a bit scared to mail it home.”

“I would be too.” He replied while you filled your bag again you shouldered with shoes in hand to step aside and pull your converse back on while Lee tied his sneakers back on.

All the way out to the bus once your bags were claimed from the baggage terminal Lee smiled trying to be coy that he was working his way back to the topic of the apartment again. A set of posters on the subway of new films out soon gave you a nice smokescreen to distract him all the way through the cameras and people excited to see you back in town again on their ways about their lives. All that missed the bouncy customer or familiar face gone for so long. Up the front stoop you went glad to be out of the public view feeling oddly sentimental back to the first time you’d gone up this stoop. Five flights later another sigh came from Lee who was following you to eat with you and your dad close to exploding to just demand the basement.

Right to your room the duffel and suitcase were taken and left while your smiling dad was setting the lunch he’d fixed for you three on the counter, right off knowing something was up with Lee. “Welcome back Lee.” He rumbled and watched you come back with a small gift bag with spare set of keys in hand he’d agreed to have cut for you to give to Lee as a surprise. Instantly knowing why you’d gone for the bag first thing to keep from hurling it at him later if he kept it up.

“Thanks, missed being around you too. Heard you’ve been busy mastering all the repairs of the new home.”

His eyes however shifted to the bag you dangled from its handles, “Merry Unbirthday there Grinner.”

“What did you get me?” he all but hummed out in your dad’s move closer to accept your tight hug. Tentatively he poked his fingers in the top of the bag to peek inside and his lips parted at the key ring hooked on his finger now out of the bag. “Why are there keys?” He managed to crack out making you giggle.

“Well I don’t want you trying to break the damn door down to get in to your apartment each night.” That broke the damn and with an elated shriek of sorts he over your back crashed into your dad’s chest around you hugging you both muffling your giggles to your dad’s deep chuckles patting him on the back until his step back freed you again.

“You’re serious?” He squeaked out with brows lifted.

“Seriously Lee, even when your agent sends you to LA, I have the room I’m not gonna have you staying in some hotel or whatever.”

“He does like to send me there,” he replied almost painfully.

Joe, “But you can always fly back, and when you pick to be in a relationship or whatever you can still come visit, come see the puppy we are going to pick.”

Lee’s open mouthed smile came back, “You’re getting a puppy?!”

“Not right away, still have to get the house good and back from New Zealand and all that, maybe for the holidays.” Deepening his grin even more.

Lee took his seat as your dad nudged you to yours to get eating saying, “For now, eat up, I know you are both chomping at the bit to get started and we could get a good deal handled before lunch if we time it right.”

Lee asked, “I do have to ask, we’re painting, don’t they have crews for that?”

Your dad answered, “The quote I got calling a company that paints was $800 supplies not included and they only work three hours a day, which by their math would take them to do one room.”

You scoffed, “Lazy bastards.”

The reply making him laugh and Lee smirk surprised at you, “Exactly, we’ve painted barns as a family in two days before. Huge barns, we could kill half the floor by nightfall easy I got L’s ladders he said we could use and we can get pizza tonight, stuffed crust then go and kill some more tomorrow and pause when the moving truck arrives. How did you split belongings, because, his stuff and those stairs-,”

You both answered, “His/Mine is in the back.”

“And we’ll tell them when it’s his stuff and they can use his front steps.” You added.

Your dad asked Lee, “How do you think your parents will take the news?”

That had Lee’s excited grin flinch down again, “Um, well, my dad actually got transferred back to Oklahoma. They moved back last month.”

“Lee,” you and your dad said together while you placed a hand on his shoulder luring his smile out again. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Joe, “Your Gran ok?”

Lee nodded, “She’s good, better, but dad missed home and the land and she needs help with her bee keeping and honey products which mom will be managing while dad still works and does his bit on the weekends. Sally and Will both got into southern universities so they’re close by and going to love that, so they will be thrilled that I have a home base here while they’re away.”

Joe, “You’re always gonna have a place at our homes, you know that.”

Lee nodded, “Dad says it helped that I moved out when I did, now I’ve been, I’ll say ‘on my own’ for a couple years almost, that helped his saying that with me on my feet and you guys here to be my family and support when they can’t, case in point my appendix, that they felt ok moving back again. And I’ve been working Off-Broadway parts and I’ve got another I’m auditioning for while you’re off to New Zealand. The two awards I’ve been nominated for from those roles they’re so proud and have been so excited to see me study and graduate twice with a Bachelor’s degree and it is a bit scary to not have them in their townhouse a subway stop away. But I can do it. You both did such amazing things all on your own so I know it’s not impossible.” He glanced your way asking, “How are the grandparents taking the move?”

“I haven’t really spilled I put money on it, they have this show they’re working on getting together before the premier next week. I have emailed Babu that I found a place, a home and he shared they were over the moon, inches from throwing money to get it for me if it was out of my budget because I mentioned that I was waiting on the Bard funds. They haven’t said much past progress on their show and there’s something in me saying they’re already picking out my wedding dress, because it was huge when I told them Rich proposed. Long call, it’s big.”

Lee smirked chuckling along with your dad who said, “Oh they picked some designs from top designers, including an adaptation of the one they had planned for your mom’s.”

That had Lee looking between you reading the mood at the hardly mentioned mysterious mom that was subtly taken as a sore topic for the both of you, “They did? I thought I’d be too short for that dress.”

Lee, “I’m picturing poofy.”

You looked at him, “It’s actually more, think swan lake, jewel accents around the edges and down the dress, which is pink and it’s a mermaid figure with a sheer back section.”

He was smiling again, “Pink dress?”

“If you get married in the snow you have to stand out. It’s a blush at best, really beautiful.”

Hand extended your dad patted your hand, “If you want the dress they will make sure it fits your figure flawlessly.”

“You don’t think they’d force a big bash?”

“No,” he shook his head, “They’ve actually seen pictures and video of the reception we had and they love the pictures, if you wanted a ceremony at home on the ranch they would be all for it. Less stress and they could see where you grew up outside of their visitations.”

Lee purred, “So, how will they act if you bought a house?”

After swallowing your mouthful you had been chewing you replied, “Nowhere near as bad as it will be when they hear Rich bought a house too in England and we’ve both picked rooms for which would fit a possible nursery.” That had your dad chuckle around his mouthful.

Lee, “Wow, babies already?”

“We just want to know where to put the baby when we get one,”

Lee chuckled, “Where to put it,”

“There’s a room on the third floor, you’ll see it, I walk in, it’s the perfect spot for a nursery.”

Your dad said, “You do just know, right up there with where you want the pool table or big screen, you catch a vibe.”

Lee, “I can’t wait to see your baby room.”

Excitedly you said, “I picked a pirate ship chandelier for it.” Parting his lips in a smile, “Peter Pan theme.”

Lee, “I am so jealous, where the hell did you find a pirate ship chandelier?”

“L’s books he gave us for supplies and lighting.”

Lee, “You are going to have such lucky stunning babies. I am so jealous, love you both, but so jealous, and if I ever do get a baby on the way you are decorating my nursery.”

“Your babies are going to be so tall,” Your dad chuckled again, “Mine up in the air, cuz they could take after him and get actual legs for days or be tiny like me.” Your head turned to your dad, “Speaking of which, we need a courtesy level for those shelves in the kitchen that anything communal is down where I can reach it.”

He nodded saying, “I actually made sure your cabinets are a bit longer than average, which the builders were a bit confused until I said how tall you are.”

“Tall,” you giggled out and Lee laughed knowing what you were hinting to. “Me on my toes the Director was floored when I got back asking if I’d grown. Said I was stretching and he didn’t believe me till I went flat footed again.”

Your dad chuckled and said, “Communal levels are accepted, and your reading nook, got you a special set of steps for you that can be moved around to match the shelves. Since there’s carpet there we can lay down a runner to keep from getting indents in it. You could still grow taller, who knows, I grew another three inches when I hit 26, you burst up 6 inches a few years back, who knows.”

“I don’t imagine myself shooting up another six inches,” you giggled out, “And there is no telling how much easier it would be to get roles where they don’t have to worry about pairing me with a living tree like Lee here. You should have seen the panic first day when we showed on set and I was in sneakers and he’s a good foot plus over me,” making Lee chuckle lowering his fork.

Lee while you took another bite said, “Full deer in the headlights till she goes up nearly on her toes. Loved it, each day seeing her just kill their expectations they set for her. Legit they thought she was around 5 ft 9 on set before she got there just seeing her in the Ring compared to Amber.”

Your dad said, “You’re always able to stretch and defy appearances, and you will continue to, even in ballet you make the most elegant long lines like you have legs for days just like your mom could do. Your height has never held you back until those idiots at the London Ballet used it as an excuse to not use a Bolshoi prodigy. And they are eating those words since Bard came out I can bet you that.”

You nodded and said, “Babushka called about that, they asked what my schedule was next year,” parting their lips. “She in her own screw you stoic flare said that as long as the director who tried to hint that I had to screw him on a night out on the town to get a role was working there I would never touch their company door again.”

Lee, “Good for her,”

“All while Babu had been leaking the reason I didn’t renew my contract and now there’s a twenty five principal dancer roster who have filed a lawsuit saying they were exploited out of their company.”

Lee, “Oh shit!”

“Exactly, it is, huge. The director got fired and all these companies and doing an inventory of their casting directors and have been snapping up those formerly blacklisted dancers for their next seasons.”

Your dad said, “They did the right thing, you aren’t changing your mind, are you?”

“The Royal Ballet actually asked if I would be up to a sort of Little Mermaid show they are going to film, so it would be one performance, ballet and the musical aspect, they need someone that can do what I did in Bard it’s a whole sort of alternative ballet twist. I told them I’d be up for it, the whole thing is going for this children’s hospital charity as for tickets and disc sales, the director’s kid was sick and he saw so many kids there with parents struggling and it’s going to be so good but they want to nail down the cast now.”

Lee, “You gotta do it.”

Your dad nodded, “That would be fantastic, and there’s no telling how your friends will blow up about it like they did Chicago. Do they show the kids the show?”

“Yes, they’re going to have a whole premier in a few hospitals for the kids and their parents. Which it’s getting Disney’s permission for the musical and it sounds really fun. It’s the songs the kids all know it’s just got ballet added to it.”

Lee smiled, “And you’re Ariel?”

“Yes,” you smiled, “They want my hair a bit longer though, it’s been good that I got to tie my hair back this last month, since I lightened my hair it’s been growing like crazy. Nearly to the middle of my back when I straighten it. And they just have this apple red hair spray they’re gonna try on my hair to try and keep from my having to bleach it all and then go fire engine red that I’ll be talking to the Queens about. And they have extensions ”

Your dad, “I think it’s mainly due to having the color there to show where it used to be. When do rehearsals start?”

“Next week, then it’s two weeks of rehearsals then it’s on that Saturday.”

Lee asked, “And they always had Little Mermaid in mind?”

That had you giggle, “Mr Tarl from Julliard is heading it with Mr Combs and they said they could get in touch with me and again I’m going short notice on this but it’s so good from what they told me. They did say it would be hitting the press today.”

Your dad asked, “And the gramps know?”

“Babu does, that was part of the call for the London Ballet thing. No doubt will be bragging again, they are going to jet out for it, should have their show stable by then and they are thrilled it’s for charity and they can buy a copy or dozens of copies. And then I can show them the place, sort of a two-fer.” That had them chuckle in your shoulder pop taking another bite of your food.

Hair tied back once you’d changed from your sweater to an already paint splattered t shirt to go with your shorts that you didn’t mind getting paint on as you had another pair of jeans ready to be cut off soon at the countless tears they’d gained over the years. Practically shaking Lee eyed the front gate you unlocked followed by the next two, the first you locked behind you leaving the mudroom open in Lee’s excited circle that had you giggling showing him first the chandelier and starting with the book hideaway your hand latched onto your dad’s in each exciting discovery of what he’d added from your designs.

Every floor upwards was searched with you lingering in front of the beds you had designed. Both sets of bunk beds brought to life to perfection the both of you tested the steps on alongside your dad for a third heftier body proving your plan did truly work before Lee trotted down the steps to his floor he absolutely loved mentally settling colors and layout of his furniture. Then he broke out of that to come back up with you to start opening the windows on the main floor beginning to lay out the tarps ignoring the people taking pictures of you and the guys.

The guys worked rollers up and down the walls. You focused on taping and edging the molding before climbing on the highest ladder you sat on the top rung with a long handled brush to mark along the top of the ceiling that your dad scooted around the room to help you finish the whole room. The front rooms were first up and working your ways back having skipped the wall going up the stairs you managed to finish off half the floor stopping for a lunch on the patio off the sunroom enjoying the sun and fresh air until the primer called again. The second half was easier with the kitchen being mostly tile and cupboards coating the walls except for strips along the top. Even without paint the room had you giddy to see an actual kitchen coming together. And with the back windows cracked you locked the front ones and closed the shutters again to head back to your apartment for pizza dinner.

Partway done with the second floor through the open windows you heard and upon moving to them the moving truck was viewed. Down you hurried to welcome the crew that unloaded the main furniture into the center of the living room before helping to get the mattress up to the top floor into your bedroom. The crew carried the barely used mattress from Canada to be broken in over the years for your bedroom. With yours from the NY apartment set to be settled in the third floor while your dad would be glad to take the set of mattresses from the half bedroom to stretch out on top of the bed platform kit he had bought and had been building to keep them together.

Lee’s things were easier with his boxes settled around the furniture he’d move to his preference later to help you get back to finishing the second floor. Lee got called to an audition the third day but still you and your dad kept on working and somehow finishing by lunch without having to juggle that third person. The spare time gave you plenty of time to work in your apartment at night to get up to that peak limber state you liked to be in that your nerves had told you that you weren’t in even after having spent nights reverting to your ballet stretches and elastic band exercises in the last months of the show.

Pt 43

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC #In Canada #Finish Filming #Back to New York #Progress Reports #Painting Now #Remodeling the Brownstone

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