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erathene · 4 months

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A Fool's Hope

Summary: Aragorn has returned to Helm's Deep, which is rushing to prepare for the arrival of Isengard's Uruk army. Unfortunately, recent events take a heavy toll on the future king of Gondor, and you struggle with your own doubts as you try to pick up the pieces.

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: Aragorn & GN!Reader

Warnings: Whump, loss of consciousness, nausea, Aragorn is Not A Well Man™.

Author's note: It has been years since I've written anything, and real life has been extra busy as I'm now a mum to my 16 month old son. Now I'm starting to get some time back for my own hobbies I've started writing a few fics. Enjoy! 😚

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Thirty sacks of grain, check.

Fifteen barrels of mead, check.

Ten crates of carrots and twelve of cabbages, check.

Eight bushels of apples, check.

The scratch of your quill against parchment could scarcely be heard over the hubbub of activity that was swelling through Helm's Deep. The fortress was in full preparation mode, readying for the battle that was to come. It seemed that every citizen had their own duty to fulfil; whether that be sharpening weapons at the grindstone, filling quivers with arrows or reinforcing the main gate.

Things were a little calmer here amongst the supplies and foodstuffs that had been amassed in recent weeks from the many arrivals to the fortress. Crates were neatly stacked one on top of the other whilst large oak barrels lined the thick stone wall. King Théoden had tasked you with tallying all of the rations that had been gathered together and ensuring their safe delivery to the Glittering Caves beyond the keep. To some, it may have appeared a simple task, with no true impact or merit. However, as Keeper of the Granary in Edoras, you knew all too well how plans for a siege could go disastrously awry should there not be adequate supplies to keep the troops fed and watered. The king himself would want to know the exact figures of every product stored, and most importantly how it could be stretched to cover the longest amount of time possible without his soldiers going hungry. It was a crucial part of the battle plans.

Consequently, every note you made on your parchment sheet was checked and re-checked, before the containers were carried off to the caves. The gravity and significance of the task at hand also kept your mind from dwelling on the thought of the thousands of Uruks which would soon be on the doorstep. You were no fighter, and had you not been kept busy with this charge, you might have found yourself completely overwhelmed with the anxiety of the battle ahead.

"Those three sacks there can go next," you indicated to one of the youths who had been placed under your command for this task. "And ensure they are stored off the ground; we don't want spoiled grain on our hands." You watched as the boy nodded at your instructions and heaved a sack over his shoulder.

You turned back to your parchment paper, studying the values you had written. A few more calculations and you would be ready to present your findings back to the king and his war council, who were due to meet shortly for the final time. Presenting information to all the lords of Edoras may have intimidated some, but to you it seemed wholly insignificant compared to your apprehension of the conflict to come.

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you glanced up quickly. Standing before you was Lord Aragorn, his gaze passing over the various containers that were held in the small area you were working in.

"My lord," you said as you bowed your head respectfully. "Is there something I can do for you?"

This was a paltry suggestion, for the man looked more than worse for wear. You had heard other folk speak of how he had been dragged off the cliff by one of the wolves of Isengard, and how he had ridden day and night to warn Théoden's people of the doom that was marching towards them. Yet nobody had spoken of his impairment. His complexion was pale beneath the dirt and grime of the skirmish and subsequent journey here, which also extended to his hair and clothing. A torn strip of cloth was tied around his upper arm, the crude bandage failing to fully cover an abrasion that was still red and raw underneath. His posture was irregular, likely caused by bruising beneath his garments and a cracked rib or two, and he gripped the hilt of his weapon as an old man would cling to a walking stick. As you took in his appearance, you found yourself morbidly surprised that he was still standing.

"How are our supplies looking, Grainkeeper?" Aragorn asked, referring to you in the Common Tongue translation of your Rohirric title.

"Satisfactory, my lord," you replied quickly. "We won't be living in luxury, but I believe with careful management of our food stocks, we'll be able to see ourselves through at least a month of war or longer. The majority of the supplies have already been taken to the caves and stored securely. As you can see, we are about to move the final items," you gestured to the remaining crates of legumes and bushels of apples. You reported your findings to him as you would to King Théoden, taking the opportunity to see how the results would be received.

"Good," he nodded. "That is good."

It didn't escape your attention how his grey eyes became glassy and unmoving as you gave your report, how his hand gripped the pommel of his sword with greater tension than before. "My lord, are you quite well?" you asked tentatively.

Aragorn blinked, returning from his reverie. "Well enough," he nodded with a forced smile.

You felt less than convinced by his response. Nevertheless, he was a grown man, and it was not your place to fuss over him. With a pretence of curiosity to cover your underlying fears, you asked him about the preparations for the defence of the keep. Truth be told, you had been far too preoccupied in the makeshift open-air storeroom to take much notice of these activities.

"The reservists are being drawn behind the main wall, and archers will be positioned to support the keep," Aragorn said in a monotonous tone, as though he had repeated the battle plans over and over many times already. "King Théoden has sent his scouts to..." His sentence trailed off as he began to blink rapidly, reaching out to steady himself on one of the barrels of mead. Any remaining colour drained from his face as his breath came short and sharp.

Worry surged in your stomach for the man as he swayed dangerously on the spot. "My lord, you really should sit down. Here," you offered kindly, upturning an empty crate for him to use as a makeshift seat. "I'll fetch you some water."

No sooner had you turned your back, there was an almighty crash as something went tumbling into the awaiting crates and barrels. You spun around on the spot and saw Aragorn sprawled on the floor, surrounded by upturned containers and stray carrots. A few apples rolled past the prone man whose limbs were haphazardly crumpled beneath him. Rushing to his side, you lifted back the mop of dark hair that lined his face; his eyes were half-lidded and his lips parted, as if he were trying to speak but his body was completely betraying him. You called his name, but there was no reaction. Pressing your fingers to his neck, you felt his racing heartbeat echoing in his veins beneath skin that was clammy to the touch.

You called out to him again, the panic becoming evident in your voice. "Lord Aragorn, can you hear me?" You shook his shoulder vigorously in the hope of rousing him. Just as you were about to dash off to find help, you were rewarded when he let out a low, guttural moan.

"My lord?"

You could just about make out the "M' fine," he mumbled into the floor. His fists clenched as began to push himself up to sitting, his hair falling over his facial features as he moved.

"Come, rest against the wall here." You gestured a few feet away where there was a gap between the mead barrels and crates. None of the colour had returned to his cheeks yet, and you fretted inwardly about whether he would lose consciousness again as you aided him. Soon enough, however, the man was resting against the cool stone, taking in deep and shaking breaths with his eyes firmly shut.

You rushed to fill a spare flagon with water from a nearby jug, the liquid sloshing as you hurried back to Aragorn. The man opened one eye as you handed him the cup. "I'm fine," he repeated, seeing the concern etched on your face.

"I'm sure you are, my lord," you said grimly. "But it would lessen my worry to see you drink."

Aragorn extended his hand towards the flagon, but seeing how he shook uncontrollably, you brought the cup to his lips instead. Slowly, he took a few small sips as the flagon tilted.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

"Aye. Thank you," he said. You helped him take a few more sips from the flagon, satisfied by the colouring that was slowly returning to his cheeks.

Suddenly, another voice called over the barrels. "Lord Aragorn?"

You stood quickly, and saw the voice belonged to the captain of the king's guard, Háma. He looked slightly taken aback by your sudden appearance from behind several barrels. "Captain Háma, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am looking for Lord Aragorn. King Théoden wishes to see him immediately."

You briefly looked down at Aragorn, who was still slumped behind the barrels. At first he caught your gaze with pleading grey eyes, before his eyelids fell and his head shifted lightly from side to side to convey his refusal. You understood; he wasn't ready, not yet.

You feigned reaching for your parchment which had been abandoned on top of a nearby barrel, hoping Háma would not be suspicious of your downward glance. "I'm afraid I have not seen him, sir. Perhaps he has gone to the armoury?"

Háma's stern gaze was fixed on you for several moments, before he frowned with disappointment. "I have already looked there, but perhaps we missed each other. As you were, Grainkeeper." He departed the area, his armour and chainmail ringing as he walked.

As soon as the captain rounded the corner, you bent back down behind the storage containers to level with Aragorn.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not sure I could have faced the king right now. Not while I have no strength left in me."

"That's quite alright, Lord Aragorn. Here," you gave him a polite smile before reaching out and offering one of the apples that had been thrown in his fall.

Aragorn blanched at the sight of the fruit. "I'm not hungry," he grunted through gritted teeth.

"You said it yourself, you are lacking strength." From your pocket you pulled a small knife, and holding the fruit in your palm you began to slowly remove the apple skin with the edge of the blade. "This should help you recover somewhat." You cut the skinned apple into pieces in your hand, handing the man a wedge.

Aragorn took the apple piece, but paused for a good minute or two before it entered his mouth. He chewed slowly, grinding the fruit down into a pulp, before he swallowed with a grimace. He looked like he was trying very hard not to vomit.

You searched for a topic of conversation to draw his focus away from his churning stomach. Unfortunately, the only subject brimming the surface of your thoughts was the feeling of impending doom waiting for the siege to begin; the same feeling you had largely ignored whilst you had been occupied by your work.

You blurted out a question that had been rattling around your mind before you could even consider whether it would be appropriate to ask. "Is it true? There are really ten thousand Uruks marching on us?"

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. From the numbers I saw, Isengard is likely to be deserted."

You sighed, unable to mask your pessimism. "Ten thousand against three hundred. So there truly is no hope for us.."

"I disagree," said Aragorn quietly. "We still have hope."

"Are we not fools to hope at all? Knowing what we are up against?"

"Nay," said Aragorn. "To hope is not foolish. We have a choice; to choose hope over fear. Choosing hope means choosing to believe that there are better days to come, if one has the courage to fight for it. That is not foolish in the slightest."

"No, I suppose not," you said, slightly surprised by the wisdom he demonstrated seemingly beyond his years.

You suddenly heard your name being called from beyond the barrels. Rising to your feet once more, you saw the young man who had carried a sack of grain to the caves had returned. He stood obediently awaiting his next instructions, but you saw how his eyes curiously travelled around the chaos of upturned crates and loose vegetables that had appeared in his absence. "Never mind the mess now, boy," you shooed him away as soon as he held a crate of cabbages in his arms.

"I should help you tidy up," Aragorn said firmly. "This is my doing after all."

"Are you sure, my lord?" You worried whether or not he should be standing so soon after his blackout.

"Yes. I insist," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

"That would be appreciated, thank you."

Together, you gathered up the provisions that had been thrown when the man had taken his tumble, and the chaos was soon reorganised back into neatly stacked crates. You looked around to see where you had left your parchment of notes, only to see the man holding them in his outstretched hand.

"Remember; choose hope over fear," he said, touching your shoulder before taking his leave of you.

His comment seemed to lighten the very air around you, the weight of complete helplessness clearing from your mind. You turned back to your parchment paper, feeling more resolved than ever to be a part of this final stand against evil, even if it was with a fool's hope.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn x y/n #aragorn x you #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #fanfiction #aragorn #the two towers #aragorn son of arathorn #whump #aragorn whump

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scotianostra · 1 month

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Happy 92nd Birthday veteran Scottish actress Phyllida Law, born on May *8th 1932 in Glasgow.

Wiki has 8th July on the first line of their page on Phyllida, but on the side panel has May 8th, so who knows!?

There is very little about her early life except she was born in Glasgow, the daughter of Megsie “Meg” and William Law, a journalist. She said once of he Glasgow upbringing “When you grow up in Glasgow with a Glaswegian granny, you’re taught that pride is a wicked thing. I still feel a bit like that.“ Phyllida grew up in Glasgow’s west end, just off Great Western Road, but war broke out when she was just seven and she found herself evacuated to places such as Lenzie, in Dunbartonshire, and Skelmorlie, Ayrshire.

That gave her a love for the Scots countryside which means she now splits her life between her home in London and a family cottage in Argyll. Phyllida would fit in well with the Scottish & Proud ethos, in an interview she says:

“I’m passionate about my Scots heritage. How could I not be? I can’t live without it. There’s no way I could live without those hills and it’s got to be the west coast. “I sometimes travel to Edinburgh then go up to Pittenweem or somewhere and I think to myself, ‘This isn’t Scotland.’ It’s a wonderful coastline but it’s not Scotland for me.

“When my parents lived in Glasgow they were always looking for a cottage to which they could retire. They found one in Ardentinney, so I visit that a lot.

She joined the Bristol Old Vic in 1952, from what I can gather she was first in the wardrobe department, the first pic shows her standing, from a 1952 photo. Heron screen acting credits start in 1958 and are very extensive, the pick of them are Dixon of Dock Green and a stint as the storyteller in the great children’s show Jackanory in the 60’s. It must have been during her time in the BBC’s children’s TV department she met her husband to be The Magic Roundabout narrator Eric Thompson, She has previously stated that the character of Ermintrude the cow was modelled on her.

Angels in the 70’s and of course Taggart in the 80’s as well Thomson, the variety series hosted by actress Emma Thompson in 1988, Emma just happens to be her daughter. Heartbeat, Hamish Macbeth and Dangerfield in the 90’s, Waking the dead and Doctors in the noughties has kept her busy, now in her 86th year she has still been appearing on the small screen, in The Other Wife and New Tricks during the past 8 years. Film roles include She is known for her work on Much Ado About Nothing , The Time Machine and The Winter Guest.

Phyllida spends most of her time in Argyll in a house she shares with her daughter Emma. who is spending more time looking after her mother, as she was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 2915.

Phyllida constantly needs the support of a wheelchair and even assistance when washing due to the effect the condition is having on her.

Due to the progressive nature of the condition, symptoms tend to gradually worsen over time. It is common for individuals to struggle both with walking and talking at the height of the condition.

Phyllida herself spoke about the burdens of looking after an infirm parent, she looked after her mother, Meg who suffered with Alzheimer’s disease. Mego died in 1994 aged 93 after almost 20 years of being cared for by Ms Law at her mother's home in the village of Ardentinny on the west coast, near Dunoon.

Emma said of her mother “Mum is quite lame so it's a case of taking her out in a wheelchair, and making sure she takes her medication. The meds are amazing."

#scotland #scottish #history #actress #happy birthday

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b-blushes · 2 months

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Surprise project reveal: POND!!!

Since the start of the year I’ve been working on turning one third of this flowerbed into a pond, hopefully for wildlife! I’ve done all the research, planning, and buying, and my dad has pretty much done all the manual labour due I’m disabled, ginormous shoutout to my dad! And to my friend for coming over to help me start digging out dead plants which needed to go before we could get started! <3 As you may know, I have been wanting to see tadpoles soooooo badly, and also have a patch of garden that is too large for me to manageably maintain, so I decided to try and create a new habitat for a plethora of creatures! I researched native plants and what they add to the environment (hiding places for tadpoles, baby newts and any other critters that end up in there, attracting pollinators (good for pollinators and also good for creatures that eat them!), plants that newts like to lay spawn in, what kind of plant will provide year-round shelter and cover, etc) and designed the pond according to which I liked. On two sides of the pond we made a ‘bog garden’ lined with pond liner with a couple of holes poked in it so there was a liiiiiitle drainage, and then filled with aquatic soil.

I also added a shallow area for bees and other creatures to drink (I will add some more rocks to this though as the water level is high at the moment!), as well as making sure that anyone gets into the pond can also get out of it. I filled it with rainwater, so hopefully it will establish soon and I will start to see pond beasts in my garden!!!

The brooklime planted inside a container within the pond, and surrounded by gravel and shallow water, will grow across the pond to provide cover. Unfortunately I picked up a non-native horsetail instead of our native one by accident, but nonetheless it will be perfect for dragonfly nymphs to crawl out of the water and moult to become dragonflies!

I placed one water forget-me-not in the water itself, and another in the bog garden to see which they prefer. The one in the photo on the left went in to the bog garden first, and is flowering! Followed by the one in the centre photo in the water which is a couple of weeks behind. In the section of the bog garden pictured in the middle, is a native iris and a native marsh marigold (closeup on the right) which will both flower yellow - behind these I'm going to build a log pile as additional habitat and a place for any creatures to take shelter in a cool, damp, protected place.

Also in the bog garden (along the long side of the pond) is native water mint which will flower pink, and a corkscrew rush which appeared in one of my mums flowerpots so needed to be transplanted somewhere else. (It's being shadowed by another self-set teasel, that one should flower next year!)

Water crowfoot inside the pond! These will grow much bigger and have white flowers too! The pond is very fresh (the water has only just cleared enough from planting to be able to see to the bottom properly in the last couple of days), so I’m looking forward to all the plants getting huge and seeing flowers too. It’s also within an existing flowerbed, so this year it looks as if at least one self-set teasel will flower next to the pond (they flower in their second year), and I also planted an ornamental sage to provide shade to one end, as it’s in quite a bright spot and I have another of these growing elsewhere which overwintered really well and is so bushy! It was also buzzing with bees and other guys last year, and flowers for a really long time.

I think that's everything! I'm so excited to have gotten to this point, I've been dreaming of my own pond for years, and I'm hoping I designed one that will end up being home to lots of creatures that I can watch! :') I can't wait for it all to establish and hopefully becoming a bustling ecosystem.

#pond tag

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metacrisisdoctor · 1 year

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Lying with this love, that’s where he’ll be

an alien intruder makes itself known in the tyler household. for the @tentoorosemicrofics challenge. i used “icy” as the prompt. cookies for anyone who understands what the title is a refence to!

1.7k. family fluff. post empire of the wolf.

READ ON AO3

Like most things, it will all make sense in retrospect. Or at least some of it will.

The situation is starting to come into focus now, really- the thought of what could be happening so terrifying Rose can only mentally kick herself for letting the Doctor wander off into the snow to get her some aspirin for her cramps.

("Never doubt my love for you, Rose Tyler. This stuff could kill me.")

Well- what she had thought were period cramps.

Cramps have never felt this bad though, and the only thing Rose can focus on is the terrified look on her daughter's face. And the pain. Oh God, the pain. Splitting pain radiating from her womb and spreading, spreading, spreading until she can barely walk over to the sofa, even with Mia holding her arm and leading the way with a patience no teenage girl can muster unless they're really scared.

It's then that is clicks. The only time she's ever felt this pain was seventeen years ago.

She's in labour. And she hadn't even known she was pregnant.

This universe has a sense of humor, doesn't it? Hard to deny that now.

For years Mia had begged them for a sibling, and they'd tried. Of course they had. Many times, without complaint. Sometimes multiple times a day, as due diligence. They had a name picked out and everything, the perfect name. And when the Doctor saw a tiny suit or miniature converse, he couldn't help but bring them home.

They'd tried until they could say that one child was miracle enough, and after a while Mia had contended herself with an orange cat that the Doctor pretended to hate and playdates with Tony.

They were happy. They are happy.

Happiness comes and goes, however. In this moment, happy is certainly not the term she would use.

The contraction that takes a hold of her is so intense that her knees give out. It increases until she can't help but scream in agony while Mia holds her waist. A drop of sweat falls into Rose's eye and blurs her vision when she opens her eyes. The room seems bigger than it ever has, the couch never so bloody fucking stupidly far.

"Don't die," Mia whimpers. Rose can feel her daughter's arms trembling, and she knows she's crying. There is nothing Rose wants more than to comfort her, to stand up straight and tell her that she's fine. That she isn't dying. But she can barely string together three words.

Three words are better than none, "I'm gonna alright."

Mia sniffles, "I love you, Mummy."

And blimey, Mia hasn't called her anything other than "Mum" or "whatever," in ages. It's enough to to make her laugh, tears springing to her eyes at how young Mia sounds. But it makes her heart hurt too. Mia really thinks she’s watching her die.

The pain ebbs into a dull ache, giving her enough reprieve to say those words back and keep moving. When they finally make it to the sofa, Rose pulls her phone from her pocket to call her husband. Her hands are slick with sweat and the device slips from her hands like butter and clatters to the floor.

Rose curses, taking a deep breath. "I need you to call your father. He should be back soon, he just went to the store but we should warn him... before he gets home."

Mia's eyes are as wide as saucers despite the sleep lines on her face and her messy braid. Guilt twists inside Rose again. She had hoped this, whatever it was, wouldn't wake her. But it did, of course it did. She was having a baby for Christ's sake.

"Warn him about what?! We don't even know what's wrong. We have to get to the hospital."

A furious shake of the head has Mia's mouth closing back up. She lifts her hips and starts tugging her sweatpants down. "No time. Baby's coming."

"Baby?! Since when are you pregnant?!"

"Hell if I know!"

Just then fresh, freezing air spreads throughout the room, cooling Rose's burning skin as the Doctor bursts through the door. The small bag of pain killers and crisps in his hand looks equal parts ridiculous and terribly endearing. He has snow on his shoulders, piled on the blue wool of his coat, soaking his cotton jim jams and stuck to his hair.

He's panting like he's been running, his own terrified expression mirroring Mia's- but it's clear that he heard every last bit of their exchange before opening the door.

"I already called him," Mia explains, tapping her temple a bit smugly, "with my mind."

Before Rose can respond something cheeky about their alien mind connection the pain rips through her again, and she slides off the sofa and onto the floor with a groan. She tastes blood and realizes she's biting her cheek.

Snow tracks across the room as he makes his way over to them. He quickly shrugs off the coat and kneels on the floor in front of his wife. His hands are cold as ice and Rose flinches when he gently touches her thigh, then leans down to have a look.

"Oh hello," he croons, before looking back up and smiling widely. "You're crowning. I can see the head. Looks like I'm right on time for once."

"I didn't know," Rose sobs, thinking of all the glasses of wine she's had. The prenatal pills she should have taken- especially at her age. It's hard to know exactly how old she is anymore, but above forty is a good guess. She thinks of the spotting she had taken as her period, as menopause kicking in.

The small, tiny bulge that she had thought was bloating. But it was a baby, their baby, somehow hidden away in her own body.

How could she have been so blind?

"Rose, I know what you're thinking but it's alright. None of us knew. But I don't think our child wants to be ignored any longer, eh?"

They share a small smile and Mia nods in agreement, pushing the sweaty hair away from her mothers face. Rose attempts to pull her hand from Mia's but the teenager refuses to let go, determined. "I'm not leaving."

It's all goes so fast then, nothing like her seventeen hour long labour of years past. The silence of the night is filled with the sounds of one small, (mostly) human life making it's way home.

"Come on, you're doing so well. Just one big one for me."

Her red, blotchy face scrunches as she pushes one more time.

"I'll catch you," the Doctor says, and she knows he's not talking to her anymore. Suddenly, she really really want to meet her baby. It's as if she can't wait another second to hold them. Besides her Mia gasps and let's go of her hand, finally, to whip off her favourite pink hoodie for the Doctor to wrap the baby in.

Just like that it's over. Her husband makes a sound of victory, between a sob and cheer. The room is suspiciously silent though, and she sits up straighter, trying to get a look at them despite her pain and confusion. The entire room smells like copper.

Her voice is raw and trembling when she speaks, "Why isn't he crying?"

He's so small, the chock of brown hair on his head the only thing making him seem bigger than he is.

Fear contracts around her heart like scar tissue, old memories of children they have both lost in their time apart bubbling to the surface of the ocean of her mind and threatening to pull them down into an abyss she doesn't know if they could ever come back from. She watches as the Doctor rubs circles on the baby's back, his face tense. After what feels like an eternity, a piercing cry fills the room.

"That's more like it," the Doctor chuckles, his voice thick with unshed tears. Relief courses through her entire being, her arms opening instinctively. "I think he was asleep."

It makes sense doesn't it? At least in her mind it does. Mia had been non-stop energy, dancing on her bladder at all times. Takes after her father. Maybe this one shares her love for sleeping in. But even if he doesn't, she doesn't mind one bit.

"Where have you been hiding?" She murmurs as their son is place on her chest, wrapped in his sisters love, delivered from his father's hands. The three of them sit in stunned, awed silence until he settles, making small snuffled sounds into Rose's sternum.

Mia's words are accompanied by a small giggle. "A little stowaway, he is." She tugs the fabric that obscures his slimey little face down to run a fingertip over his features, amazed that her little brother has finally made an appearance.

Rose marvels at how well the Doctor is taking this, how perfect the timing is. He had been so afraid to be a father again. If it hadn't been for Tony, maybe he would have been able to open his heart to this part of himself again, but she's so glad he did. Fatherhood fits him like a glove, like he was born for it. But if Mia had been a surprise, she doesn't know how he would have reacted.

Everything worked out just as it should have, it seems.

In a few moments they will rush to the hospital, they'll call Jackie and tell her there won't be a Christmas party this year after all. There will be months of nappy changes, and sleepless nights and guilt followed by comfort. By happiness. By love. Always, always love.

Now, at three in the morning, there is a moment of complete serenity as snow continues to fall around their townhouse. The fireplace crackles. All old wounds heal.

A family of four, propped on the floor, nestled safely in their home.

"It's good to finally meet you, Jack." the Doctor whispers then leans toward and presses a kiss to Rose's brow, then one to Mia's before making his way back down to the newest member of their family. "And don't you dare let your grandmother think we named you after her. I'll tell you now, in fact, at two minutes old, that you were named after-"

—

Somewhere in a world not much different than their own, Captain Jack Harkness suddenly looks up at the sky and smiles.

He doesn't know why.

#*#my fic #dw fic #doctor who #dw #doctor x rose #tentoo x rose #tentoorose #tentoo #rose tyler #metacrisis doctor #mia tyler #timepetals #tenrose #ten x rose #(for exposure)#don't love this but it's done

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phanfictioncatalogue · 6 months

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Christmas Hurt/Comfort Masterlist

A Toast to Now (ao3) - melapplesphan

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, 2016, and Phil Lester's plane home for the holidays has been delayed due to snow. In a fit of boredom, he finds himself taking an uncharacteristic leap and striking up a conversation with "DanielH."

Meanwhile, Dan Howell can't quite believe that AmazingPhil - the same guy who ignored his messages 7 years ago - just started chatting with him on Grindr.

All I Want for Christmas is You (ao3) - Evening42

Summary: Phil plans to spend Christmas apart from Dan again with their respective families, however all Dan wants is to spend Christmas together.

Christmas Party - cafephan

Summary: During a Christmas party with his friends, Phil finds himself alone and upset in a room full of loved-up couples. Dan is there to comfort him.

crimesmas (ao3) - cuddlydreamsonrainydays

Summary: Phil wants to graduate. Phil will graduate. And he'll do well. Whatever it takes. Even if he'll have to be a shell of himself for a while.Then, Dan comes along. Things do not always go according to plan.

He's a student first, a criminal next, and somewhere in the attic of himself, he'll find this thing he used to be, this person, too.

december 18th: mama's boy (ao3) - angelmichelangelo

Summary: when phil said kath had put up that shout poster in his bedroom when he came home for christmas :3

no matter how old phil gets, he's still babied by his mum

home is where the wifi connects automatically (ao3) - oqua

Summary: The wifi at Dan's parents' house is utter crap, which is definitely why he's always so miserable when he visits his family for Christmas. Because of the wifi.

(Or at least, that's what he chooses to tell himself.)

I’ll Be Home For Christmas (ao3) - wigglyfishh

Summary: Dan finds himself missing his home over the holidays.

make up something to believe in your heart of hearts (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: "A fic based in reality where Dan breaks Phil's heart. Maybe he cheats on Phil or breaks up with him or says something really terrible to him. The saddest fic ever that will make me ugly cry. Happy ending preferred but not required."

Because who doesn't love a bit of angst at Christmas?

Patching the Holes (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Dan is really close with his grandma. He spontaneously decides to come out to his very homophobic family on Christmas. Obviously doesn’t go well. Then stuff happens

So tell me when you're going to let me in - definitelythor

Summary: After Dan's kicked out of his family home at Christmas, he picks up a hitchhiker on the way to York, and at first he wonders if he's made a huge mistake. But Phil's actually kind of perfect, and maybe fate does exist after all

there's no winning on christmas (ao3) - neopold

Summary: Phil bought an extra ticket, but Dan just can't follow him home for Christmas

something else is supposed to happen (ao3) - wrongbed

Summary: Dan hates going back to his family’s house for Christmas. He hates going back to his family’s house, period. But, honestly, he doesn’t really like going to Phil’s house either.

What We Are to Each Other (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: So maybe they both suck at communication. Maybe Dan needs to talk to Phil about what they are to each other. And maybe Phil needs to sit his parents down and tell them that big, slightly scary thing about himself. But maybe it'll all work itself out, one way or another.

Where You Lead, I Will Follow (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: all you have to do is call my name and I'll be there, on the next train.

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: They've been through a lot, over the years. Some days are harder than others, but they are each other's constant.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfic #phan #phanfiction #masterlists #Christmas #Christmas masterlist #dan and phil

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shyvioletcat · 1 year

Text

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! It’s my birthday today and my gift to you is this chapter that took me far too long to finish. I really hope you like it and I’m not going to delay any longer.

~ Made of Ashes Masterlist ~

~~~~~

Rowan’s day started like any other, he got up, checked his emails, got ready for work and ate his breakfast. It wasn’t until he was half way through his cereal that he realised anything out of the ordinary. A notification lit up his phone and he assumed that it was just an email but a quick glance told him it was a text from his mother. He wasn’t one to have a preview on his lock screen, so he unlocked his phone to read it.

Happy Birthday, son. Hope you have a nice and relaxing day. Love, Mum.

He blinked once, and then remembered that today was, in fact, his birthday. Rowan had forgotten, and he didn’t care. There were other things that needed to be done today instead of acknowledging another year on the earth. Without any effort Rowan sent a simple thank you text back. Today was just another day, there was nothing special about it, nothing to celebrate.

When he got into work Rowan barely looked up from his phone. Partly due to the copious amount of emails in his inbox and partly because he didn’t want to interact with anyone. No one should know about his birthday, he wasn’t exactly the most social being in this office. Essar might, but that came with the inside knowledge of being the head of HR. And they were friendly, but not friends. A casual birthday wish was all Rowan expected of her if he couldn't avoid it.

So when he walked into his office and there was an obscenely large gift basket sitting on his desk Rowan was taken aback.

Slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket he approached the desk, circled it while inspecting the gift basket. From the items he could see he could tell this thing wasn’t cheap. The bottle of whiskey in there would have well over a hundred dollars on its own. Rowan stopped by his chair, peering over the layers of clear cellophane for a card. It was tucked under one of the corners of the physical woven basket and he didn’t bother to wait with his suspicions any longer and slid it out from underneath the substantial weight. He tore at the envelope and flipped open the small card.

For the third time today, his birthday had presented him with yet another surprise.

Inside the card was an elegant and simple message of birthday well wishes—from his boss. The text was printed so Maeve hadn’t signed it off herself, and Rowan doubted that she had even come up with the words herself they were so generic. Still, she had gone through this much effort to give him a gift. Regardless of whatever thought and effort was put into the obscene jumble of items, Rowan picked up the basket and moved it off his desk to one of the couches in his office. He had work to do, so he would be returning that later.

Later turned out to be just before close of business. It would be the worst time to carry the thing through the office when everyone was cramming to finish what they could before they were allowed to go home. Instead Rowan waited, using the quiet moment to see to more personal affairs. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages. There was another one from his mother asking about his day, and a text along with a missed call from his father. A few texts from friends, which he took a glance over. He was about to reply when a ding from his computer drew his attention away. Rowan had expected it to be a client or co-worker sending in an email desperately before he became unavailable. But it wasn’t, it was from someone completely unexpected.

It must have been morbid curiosity that made him click on it. What he should have done was checked in on the small empty box beside it and deleted it. But instead, his mouse found its way onto the subject heading and it opened on his screen. It was just an e-card, outdated and cheesy. But ever since they had started dating she had sent one to him. What had started out as a joke had become a tradition and now Rowan stared at something that had been waiting a full year to be delivered to him.

The photo was of him and Aelin, taken on his last birthday and he was sure if he looked for some kind of date stamp he’d find that the entire email was created just hours after it was taken. She did it that way so she wouldn’t forget, so that he wouldn’t be forgotten. The irony of it was that she had forgotten, after everything this had slipped her mind and hadn’t been cancelled.

Rowan couldn’t help it, he stared at the joy on their faces, the way they so easily stood with their bodies so close together. The hand Aelin had on the collar of his jacket was tight and he remembered how she had pulled him in for a kiss with that grip. The joke of the e-card had been how badly it was done, Aelin annually tried her hand at his job, presenting him with a horribly designed card. He worked in advertising, anything he presented to the public was flawless. But with its garish and clashing colours and comic sans font, this was awful. It was the text that drew in his focus now.

Happiest of Birthdays to you, Buzzard,

Can’t wait to celebrate with you later ;)

I love you, forever and always.

Aelin.

For the first time in a while he felt the weight on his chest that he had worked so hard to remove. He had to tell himself that all this was a reminder of what he’d had, a part of his past and nothing that was part of his future. Not after what Aelin had forced him into. That familiar anger settled on him, something that was so natural to him after these months of silence. With an easy click on the trashcan icon the email was gone. There wouldn’t be another.

Rowan was officially done with the day and he knew Maeve would be in her office, rarely one to leave early despite her position. So he once again picked up the gift basket, and walked it through the mostly empty office space. No one paid him any attention except Maeve’s secretary when he stopped outside the door. She was new, Rowan hadn’t learnt her name yet.

“Mr Whitethorn, you can go in,” she said with a trained and pleasant smile. Rowan didn’t return it, he just nodded.

Maeve was sitting at her desk, glasses on as she annotated whatever she was going over. She didn’t look up until she was ready, always holding the upper hand. When she did glance up she did a double take before she lent back in her chair to see him better.

“Ah, I see you got my gift,” she said smoothly.

“I did, but I can’t accept it,” Rowan told her, not wanting to draw this out. “It’s too much and I don’t care for my birthday anyway. It’s just another day.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Maeve didn’t push the matter of the gift, just gestured for him to put it down. Although he didn’t miss what he thought was annoyance flash across her face. “If you won’t accept the gift, can I interest you in dinner instead?”

Rowan put the ridiculous hamper on one of the chairs by her desk. “Not tonight.”

“Are you sure? I could get us into Spring Rose, I know the chef,” Maeve persisted.

The name of the restaurant brought him up short. Rowan knew the place, he had taken Aelin there when he’d brought her to visit her parents. She had met him after work, dressed to the nines and beautiful.

“No,” Rowan said flatly. “Thank you for the offer but I can’t.”

Maeve laughed humourlessly. “You’ve just told me that you don’t care for your birthday and you’re returning my gift. It’s not likely that you have plans for the evening.”

She was weaving a web to catch him and right now it was pissing Rowan off. He just wanted to go home and be done with today. “I understand, it’s a generous offer. But not tonight.”

“I might hold you to that,” Maeve said casually. “It's unfortunate that you don’t want the hamper, but I understand. I’ll just have to enjoy it myself.”

Rowan was relieved that she relented, arguing about his boss about his birthday was not something he wished to do. “Goodnight, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Goodbye, Rowan,” was all Maeve said and then she went back to her screens.

He grabbed his things from his office and then he headed for his car, thoughts invading his mind. The email stung in a way Rowan hadn’t expected. It was a reminder to him that he and Aelin had always thought they were in it for the long haul. How wrong they had been. A few messages popped up on his dash, most likely birthday well wishes. Rowan planned to ignore all of those, and just reply to his mother. She didn’t deserve his foul mood. He replied to her on the ride up in the elevator and then threw the phone into his laptop bag with the full intent of not looking at it until tomorrow.

His apartment seemed quieter than usual, something about his solitude more oppressive. The email had provoked something in him. Rowan began to wonder if Aelin ever thought about him, or if she had to fight so hard to banish him from her thoughts like he had done. Work was his remedy for that, what was Aelin doing to distract herself?

Rowan sighed, going to his fridge and got himself a beer. There was nothing to be done about this, and just like everything else he had done regarding Aelin, he shoved the thoughts over the email out and away. They served no purpose, he didn’t need them. He sat on the couch and reached for the remote, taking a long sip of his beer while the TV booted up. Something mysterious and crime filled would be good to distract him, to give him a good puzzle to solve.

He chose a series he’d heard cursory good reviews about. While the opening credits played he went to the fridge, grabbed out a cold container of pasta and another beer. Rowan made good time, sitting down just and the director’s name faded from the screen. He set his next beer on the low coffee table in front of him and yanked the lid off the container of pasta. It would be better heated up but he just couldn’t be bothered. Reaching for his beer, clinking it against the unopened one, the glass making a sharp ting over the sound of the TV.

Rowan sighed and took a long swig of his beer before saying, “Happy birthday to me.”

~~~~~

Leaving the house with a little baby was still such a strange thing. Aelin had done it a few times now, not once by herself, until today. Childbirth had wrecked her more than she had expected and it had taken her longer to recover than she would realise. Elide had tried to warn her—Aelin had been too cocky. She had pretty much spent the first 6 weeks of Elsie’s life in her apartment unless someone came to pick her up or visit, and there had been plenty of visitors to keep her sane. Today at least she had driven by herself, albeit a little slower and a hell of a lot more cautious than she usually would.

She was meeting Elide, Lorcan and Korbin at the local shopping centre. They had plans to get some lunch and then do some casual shopping. Aelin was running late, but chances were so were they as well. Children tended to cause that. Popping the boot Aelin pulled out the pram and unfolded it with practised ease. Because Aelin had been practising ever since she bought the thing, she had no plans to be fumbling around trying to fold or unfold it in a desperate situation. Flicking on the break, Aelin went to the back door and got Elsie out of her car seat. She was dozing, her brow furrowed like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to be awake or not.

“Oh, come on little Elsie,” Aelin cooed, scooping the infant out of the car. She went to put Elsie into the pram but as soon as Aelin started to ease the baby onto the padded bassinet she loudly proclaimed her displeasure. “Ok, not doing that then.”

Aelin dropped the nappy bag into the pram instead and rested Elsie on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her beanied head. The pram was easy enough to manoeuvre with one hand—another feature Aelin had tested out. A short walk and an elevator ride later they were in the large courtyard that was surrounded by a variety of restaurants. Aelin’s eyes landed on the Italian place selected for luch, because Korbin’s current favourite food was pasta at the moment. It was across the courtyard through the autumn sunshine. It was a very rare sunny day in late November, by now winter usually had the city in its thrall, but today was very nice.

When Aelin reached the door of the restaurant a waiter rushed to open the door for her. She nodded her thanks and then looked around for her lunch companions. Korbin gave them away, Aelin heard his loud laugh and then saw his dark head of hair pop up over the booth then quickly disappear again. Whatever game Korbin was playing made Aelin smile and she navigated the pram through the tables.

“Hey guys,” Aelin said as she got closer. Korbin waved an enthusiastic hello, hyped up on all the activity.

“You right?” Lorcan asked, starting to rise out of the booth to help as Korbin peered over the seat again.

Aelin shook her head and flicked on the pram brake. “No, I’m good.”

She slid onto the seat next to Elide, sighing like she’d just been through a whole ordeal instead of walking from the car to the restaurant.

“Gimme,” Elide held out her hands for the baby.

“Oh, it’s nice to see you too,” Aelin joked but handed the baby over anyway.

Elide grinned, air kissing at Aelin. “You know I love you even more.” With the next sentence her voice changed into baby talk. “This one is just so squishy.”

Aelin rolled her eyes playfully, because she totally understood where Elide was coming from. Then she turned to the little boy who was trying to climb on his dad's shoulder. “Hey, Korby, look who Mum has.”

Korbin turned, eyes landing on Elide and they all watched as his face morphed into something that could be described as disgust. Lorcan chuckled and Aelin grinned. It was common knowledge that Korbin was not a fan of the new baby, and if the toddler had the capability to hate anything, he hated when Elide held her.

“You two are not helping,” Elide scolded, rubbing Elsie’s back. “We’re supposed to be encouraging him to like the baby.”

“Ells, he’s nearly two,” Lorcan said. “He’s going to do what he’s going to do.”

“Still,” Elide pressed.

Aelin laughed. “He’ll come around, he doesn’t have a choice. I’m sure they’ll be friends… eventually.”

With the teasing done with, Aelin turned her attention to the menu. By the time they had ordered Elide had gotten Elsie to sleep and was happily holding her until the food arrived. Korbin immediately started eating his nuggets and chips, losing interest in games and the baby. But Elide would need two hands to eat her steak sandwich. Aelin was about to offer to move Elsie to the pram but Lorcan got there first. He leaned over and easily eased the infant over the table, holding her close as he stood up. Very gently he put Elsie down in the pram, taking the time to tuck her in and make sure she was comfortable. It was still odd to see Lorcan be so… soft. Especially when it was somehow related to Aelin. The truce between them that had started on the way to the hospital was still holding strong it seemed.

The lunch was nice and Elsie blessedly stayed asleep the whole time. With a few interruptions from Korbin, Aelin was able to hold nice and casual adult conversations that didn’t always revolve around the baby. It was nice, it felt like things were getting back to normal. They finished, paid and then headed to the main shopping complex to browse the stores. Women’s clothes didn’t particularly hold Lorcan’s attention so he wandered off, leaving the mothers and children for a bit.

“This would look fantastic on you,” Elide said, holding up a simple but elegant red dress.

Aelin shrugged. “I’d have nowhere to wear it.”

“Yet,” Elide said pointedly.

“Elide, Elsie is six weeks old. No one is going to be interested in this mess,” Aelin gestured to herself.

The brunette scoffed. “One, you are not a mess.”

“I am,” Aelin countered.

“A hot mess then. And two, I never said anything about a date, you could wear the dress anytime. Sometimes it’s just nice to put clothes on that don’t have stains on them,” Elide explained. “It’s just nice to do something just for you. That’s all.”

Aelin looked at the dress and considered, she even completed trying it on, but then Korbin ran into Elide’s legs a distinct smell following him.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Elide muttered, taking Korbin’s hand. “Come on, let's get you changed then. Meet you back here?”

“No, I’ll just wait on the seats outside,” Aelin said.

They moved out of the store together, but then Elide hurried away towards the bathrooms. Aelin went to the couches that took up some of the in between spaces in the middle of the different stores. She had just sat down when she heard her own child fussing and pulled the pram close so that she could get Elsie out. Pushing back the visor Aelin saw Elisie’s fists waving around, the rest of her body still tucked securely in the blanket from Lorcan’s efforts.

“I bet you’re hungry,” Aelin said, and reached down into the nappy bag under the bassinet of the pram. She’d packed a bottle to prepare for this, the thought of feeding in public was a little daunting and Aelin wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to attempt it. Public nudity wasn’t on her list of things to do today.

Aelin kept sifting blindly through the nappy bag, waiting to feel the smooth lid of the bottle. But she didn’t. As Elsie started to cry louder Aelin pulled the bag into her lap, visibly searching.

“No,” Aelin hissed. “No, I didn’t…”

Now she was pulling things out of the bag because she couldn’t believe how she'd forgotten something so essential. While she stared at the wet wipes and extra onesie in her hand and the half empty bag, Elsie decided to start screaming her lungs out with desperate and hungry cries. If that went on any longer Aelin might end up with a boob problem and soak through her shirt triggered by her baby’s needs. Aelin probably had about thirty seconds before this went into a full blown crisis and she might be scared off coming out by herself again.

The parents' room was all the way at the other end of the shopping mall. It would take her at least 5 minutes to get there, longer if she couldn’t get an elevator. The panic was setting in and if only made Elsie fuss more. Aelin only had one choice. Going on instinct and what was now muscle memory, Aelin cradled Elsie while she unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt. There was no time to grab a wrap to drape over herself and she wore a maternity singlet under her blouse so realistically she would barely be exposed. But still her cheeks burned with embarrassment as Elsie sought out her meal. Maybe once she was settled Aelin would be able to grab something.

As Elsie started to feed Aelin felt her anxiety start to ebb and she sunk into the couch a little more. It was fine, everything was fine, and now Aelin could start to think. Making sure not to disturb her now content daughter, Aelin leaned towards the pram to get the muslin wrap that sat in the bottom basket. It wasn’t easy and leaving Elsie to her task was the main priority. And the little baby did not like the disturbance.

Cheeks burning, Aelin sat back up at the request of the impatient whimpering. It was fine, this was fine. She was just doing what women had been doing for millions of years. There was no reason to be embarrassed. That didn’t stop her shoulders from tightening when she caught an older woman looking at her, disapproval written all over her face and that just transferred to the friend next to her.

Aelin glanced down, feeling so self conscious. She was barely showing any skin, what she wore hid most of it. It wasn’t like she was parading around topless. Her stomach dropped as one of the irritated women started walking over. Mummy blogs were full of horror stories of women breastfeeding in public. Aelin was about to live one.

“Excuse me, sorry,” the woman said, stopping right in front of Aelin.

Aelin’s voice caught in his throat. “Yes?”

“I would really appreciate it if you covered up.”

And there it was. Aelin tried not to flush, but her cheeks were burning red. “I’m just feeding my baby.”

“I can see that,” the woman’s blue eyes narrowed. “I just don’t think—“

“Is there a problem?”

Aelin hadn’t noticed Lorcan approaching, she had been too focused on the woman intent on embarrassing her. But there he stood, looming over the both of them with his arms crossed, a challenge on his face. Aelin tried not to smile as the unsolicited advice giver blanched a little.

“I meant no disrespect,” the woman said. “But—”

“Then you’ll have no problem leaving,” Lorcan cut in.

The woman weighed her options for half a moment and then thankfully left. Aelin let out a nervous laugh mixed with a sigh, and realised there might be tears of relief gathering in her eyes. Lorcan definitely pretended not to notice as he landed on the couch next to her. He kept his arms crossed and the do not approach expression on his face, glaring at anyone who even glanced at Aelin wrong. It was almost comical, and Aelin might had laughed—if her throat would stop feeling so tight.

“Thank you, Lorcan,” Aelin said eventually. She hated the way her voice shook just a fraction.

Lorcan shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “Kid’s gotta eat.”

Then something very weird happened. Lorcan offered his fist for a fist bump. Without hesitation Aelin knocked his knuckles with hers, a new feeling of camaraderie bloomed between them. Lorcan had her back, and it was a strangely comforting feeling.

It wasn’t long before Elide found them too, by then Elsie was sitting on Aelin’s knee with assistance. Aelin patted the infant’s back, hoping the burp would be more air than vomit.

“What’s going on here?” Elide asked while Korby ran circles around her knees.

“Oh, Lorcan’s just defending my honour,” Aelin said.

Elide turned a questioning glance at her husband, he gave her the slightest hint of a smile. “Some people need to pull their heads out of their arses.”

“Ohhh-kay,” Elide said, with no idea of what was happening.

Aelin would have explained further, but Elsie chose just then to burp up half her lunch. Lorcan was there a second later, whipping out a burp cloth from the pram to catch it.

“Truly my knight in shining armour,” Aelin added, as lightly as she could. This was heading into a new and slightly weird aspect of their relationship.

Aelin knew that Lorcan had taken Rowan’s side in things, he had chosen to tolerate her for so long she really had to commend his dedication to it. When Korbin was born things had gotten better, but she always felt that wall there because he was Rowan’s friend and not her’s. But now, it was almost like they were fringing into the realm of friends. If their general banter was any indication they might already be there.

“Here, let me take her,” Lorcan offered, reaching out for the infant. “Go do your lady stuff or whatever. I’ll take these two to the park.”

With a few extra thank yous Aelin and Elide resumed their shopping expedition. They were in a homewares store when Aelin felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She looked at the notification taking a moment to figure out what it was. It was an email, telling her her e-card had been sent. For a moment Aelin just blinked at it as she remembered exactly what it was. It was Rowan’s birthday and her annual half-assed card she had curated for this year had been sent.

Aelin hadn’t even realised what the date was, on one hand she had trouble keeping track these days and on the other she really didn’t care anymore. She just hit delete and didn’t bother to give it another thought. Without her making a new for next year the tradition would die. That didn’t matter, she had better things to focus on now. And yet some simmering bitter part of her hoped that Rowan got it. It would be early evening in Doranelle now, maybe it would catch him just before he left for home. Aelin hoped that it would make him think of her and he would regret what he’d so readily thrown away.

~~~~~

Iris and Evander had told Aelin they would be in Orynth a little over a week. They already had a few things they’d planned to do before the unexpected revelation of an unknown grandchild had disrupted that, and asked if they could fit in seeing Elsie in between. After that first outing in the park and considering how well that went, Aelin agreed. Guilt might have been the main motivator but it was easy enough to see that they were quickly falling in love with their granddaughter.

The easiest way to sort it all out was for Iris and Evander to drop by the bakery in between galleries and sightseeing. They had done that at least once a day over the past few days, they had even managed it twice yesterday. Iris would send a text and Aelin would bring Elsie out from her office. The little girl was excited to see her new friends and would happily go along with them, leading them to a table, and Aelin would go back to work. That’s where they were now, tucked into one of the tables in the corner out of the way. Today the grandparents had bought Elsie a colouring in pack and she stood on a chair with Evander sitting close by to make sure she didn’t fall as she created whatever her heart desired.

Aelin watched as she waited for Emrys to finish making her coffee, needing a little buzz as afternoon rolled around. When it was done he pushed it over the counter and nodded to the commotion in the corner.

“You never did tell me who they were.”

Aelin cringed. She hadn’t and that may have been a little purposeful. “Do you remember that guy who came in a while ago and things were a little weird?”

Emrys hummed as a way of saying yes.

“He’s Elsie’s father and those two are his parents,” Aelin gestured with a hand to the occupied table.

Emrys tightened his grip on the dishcloth he held. “I thought you called him an unfeeling and pathetic bastard.”

“I did say that, yes.” That was one of the more tamer things she had called him.

“And that he was long gone,” Emrys added.

Aelin shrugged at that. “Not as much as I was expecting.”

“Well, that explains some things,” Emrys said.

Cringing again, Aelin turned back to where Elsie was holding court. She hadn’t been the best employee over the last few months while she dealt with this situation. She’d been distracted and late or worked from home without much notice. Emrys had never said a thing, probably assuming Elsie was the cause. And she was, just in a roundabout way.

Untying and dropping his apron on the counter Emrys said, “I should go introduce myself.”

Before Aelin could even think of protesting, Emrys had Iris and Evander’s drinks in hand and took them over to the table. She watched as he approached and once Elsie saw her face lit up in a bright smile and she started showing him all the things she had created. Emrys smiled, fixing one of Elsie’s clips that had come loose, smiling and nodding along. He very much had been something of a surrogate grandfather to the girl, and very protective of the two of them. It was touching that he would be so concerned for them. It just reminded Aelin that Emrys was a good and kind man.

Emrys introduced himself to the grandparents, shaking hands with both of them. Everyone was all smiles, not that Aelin expected anything less. It was just strange to have the life she had left behind meet up with the one she had forged for herself. Aelin tore her eyes away and ducked behind the counter, picking out a small chocolate tart for herself. Eating behind the counter wasn’t exactly sanitary so she put it on a plate and went to sit down and have a chat with the elder Whitethorns.

She passed Emrys on the way and he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “They seem nice. They adore little Elsie.”

Aelin nodded. “They’re good people. And they really do.”

The admission made unexpected emotions surge to the surface. She couldn’t help but feel like she had stolen time from them. They were Elsie’s grandparents, and if these past days were any indication they would have been fantastic grandparents. Iris and Evander had never done anything wrong by Aelin in the time she and Rowan had dated, so had it been wrong to keep Elsie from them?

That was a question that kept hounding her and that she continually ignored. It felt like one that might send her tower toppling. So, once again she did ignore it and worked a conscious smile onto her face. When Aelin sat down at the table it took her daughter a moment to notice that she had, and in fact she noticed the tart first. Elsie’s eyes landed on the chocolatey goodness, then followed the hand up the arm to the face that owned it.

“Mama!” Elsie said, her face delighted. “I some?”

Aelin’s smile turned genuine and she nodded, scooping up a spoonful of tart to offer it to her daughter.

“We’re not pulling you away from work, are we?” Iris asked.

“No, I don’t have anything urgent to get to,” Aelin answered. “I had something to ask you anyway. On Saturday there’s a get together at a park, it’ll be us and the Salvaterres, and my cousin will come too. We get the kids together to play every so often and the weather will start getting too cold soon to take them outside. Anyway… would you like to come?”

Aelin had rambled a little but her thoughts were all a bit jumbled today and she just needed to get the offer out. She had already cleared it with the others, Aedion hadn’t met her maybe would have been in-laws and the perpetual busybody he was, he'd insisted out of curiosity alone.

“Oh, Saturday?” Evander hedged.

“Yeah, Saturday,” Aelin confirmed.

It was Iris who picked up the conversation after that. “We had plans with Rowan on Saturday.”

Aelin was going to drown in the amount of awkwardness that swept over her. “Ah.”

Iris looked at Elsie like she was contemplating something, her lips tight. Aelin just waited, she didn’t want to butt into this situation. She would leave it up to them to make the choice between their granddaughter and their son. That was a choice Aelin had no business interfering with, regardless of what she thought the better decision was.

“Might I suggest something, and I want you to feel no obligation to agree,” Iris said.

“Of course,” Aelin tried not to let the hesitation she felt into her voice.

“Would you consider inviting Rowan? I know things are awkward between you, and there’s some tension when you inevitably run into each other,” Iris stated, obviously having been filled in on his side of things. “Might it be good to meet on neutral ground. Have an official introduction of sorts, let Elspeth explore her curiosity with him in an environment that doesn’t encroach on your sanctuary.”

Aelin sat for a moment, just processing Iris’ idea. She had made some valid points. Elsie had a very obvious interest in Rowan, and Aelin had noticed it multiple times. The moment in the bakery most noticeably, it was like she couldn’t keep away when they ended up in the same vicinity. And that was something Aelin didn’t want to look at too closely at—the why of Elsie’s behaviour. If Rowan came there wouldn’t be the pressure of just him and them. There would be other people to buffer interactions and create distance. Iris and Evander would be there, Rowan could be their situation to deal with. And with how gracious they had been over the whole secret grandchild thing… maybe Aelin could allow them this.

“Yeah, okay,” Aelin said at last. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Aelin knew it would be awkward and she would need to do some damage control with Aedion, but this could be the icebreaker that she needed. Probably how the baby shower should have gone if they had been more prepared. In the truth of it, Aelin was losing her fight. The vigilance and the anger was exhausting, and on more than one occasion it was evident that Elsie had been affected by the strain. Maybe a move toward neutrality wasn’t such a bad idea.

~~~~~

His mother was a saint, or maybe she was just gods blessed. Either way Rowan didn’t know how she’d accomplished it or how he was going to thank her for doing what he couldn’t. As grateful as he was, it didn’t banish the nerves over what was happening today or the situations he’d find himself in. In his mind the whole thing seemed uncomfortable and awkward. What was he supposed to do at a playdate at a children’s playground when he had no children himself? Well, he did. At least biologically.

Aelin would be there, so would the Salvaterres and the Ashryvers apparently. Iris hadn’t mentioned if Aelin’s parents would be coming, but Rowan hoped they weren’t. That would be the one inconvenience that might send him running. His last interaction with Rhoe Galathynius had been tense to say the least and Rowan was not looking to test the limits of that man’s patience again any time soon.

Rowan had driven his parents to the local playground, the cool early autumn air invading his lungs as he tried to keep his anxiety from showing. Getting out of the car hadn’t been as ebay as it should have been.

“Calm down, son,” Iris said to him, squeezing his arm once as they started walking away from the parked car. “Your nerves will do you no good.”

The playground was fairly busy, but Elspeth was easy to spot. Her curls and bright laughter drew Rowan’s attention immediately. She was being chased by Fenrys who had Korbin on his shoulders. Ruben ran interference to keep Fenrys back so that Elspeth could win whatever game they were playing. It was a sight to see, but it just left Rowan feeling conflicted. Another reminder that he was very much on the outside of this. With a quick glance around it was a relief to see that the elder Galathyniuses were not in attendance, but there was still Aedion to contend with.

“Let’s go and say hello,” Evander said, leading the charge to one of the shaded picnic tables that the group was gathering at.

“What’s Fenrys doing here?” Iris mused and Rowan stopped short. He was one part of the tale that had been left out. “Aelin never mentioned him coming along, does he have a kid too?”

“Um,” Rowan stammered out. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Then why…” This time his mother stopped, her words trailing off as she watched the scene unfold, looking to where Fenrys had stopped playing with the children and was now wrapping his arms around Aelin. She beamed up and he dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “They’re together.”

The three of them were halted now, still far enough away that they hadn’t been noticed and the hushed circle that was forming wouldn’t seem rude. Iris’ eyes narrowed, suspicion and confusion shining there. Rowan had been there, and imagined he would have looked much the same when he had first spotted the couple in the grocery store.

“Yeah, they are,” Rowan offered lamely.

Iris gestured in their direction. “You’re okay with this? He was your friend?”

Rowan didn’t think this was the time or place to recount how not okay he was with it, he’d have time to admit his sins later. “I’ve had to accept it.”

Iris shook her head. “What a dick move.”

Any other time Rowan would have laughed at hearing a term like that come from his mother’s mouth, but right now he was too tense.

“Now, we don’t know the circumstances or the reasons,” Evander came in, ever the measured calmness to the tempers of his other family members. “It’s not our business and not why we’re here. So, shall we?”

With a final shake of her head, Iris took the lead this time, Rowan following stiffly behind. It was time to face his fate.

~~~~~

Aelin tensed as she saw the Whitethorns walking over. It was the moment of truth. Her boyfriend’s arms were still around so he felt the shift in her body language. He peered over her shoulder, obviously having seen who was coming as well, and tilted her head up with his fingers.

“You say the word and I’ll very politely ask them to leave, or just one of them anyway,” Fenrys offered.

He hadn’t been enthusiastic about the idea of Rowan coming, and it had Aelin explaining it twice for him to come around. Fenrys still wasn’t thrilled, but he trusted her judgement on this.

“No, it’s fine,” Aelin assured him. “It’s something that needs to be done.”

“Is it?” That comment came from Lysandra who was currently rocking the youngest member of their party. Eamon Salvaterre was very much contentedly asleep.

For all of Fenrys’ understanding Aedion and Lysandra had been doubly opposed. They thought the best course of action was to ignore Rowan completely, even when that was clearly not working.

“Please try and be at least polite, and Iris and Evander don’t deserve any ill feelings,” Aelin told them. “Just… be nice.”

“You chose to do this in public so we couldn’t cause a scene didn’t you? Smart.” Elide said and Aelin hushed her viciously as the others came into earshot.

“Hello, hello,” Iris said pleasantly.

Aelin disentangled herself from Fenrys and stepped over to where Iris was standing so that she could introduce everyone. “Hi, Iris. This is my cousin, Aedion, and his wife Lysandra. And this is Elide who married our dear Lorcan, but we have no idea why. Had two of his children too, which is another mystery entirely. Fenrys you know, of course.”

There were waves and hellos exchange, and Aelin noticed Fenrys’ features fall a little when Iris wouldn’t quite meet his eye. Rowan lingered at the back looking so awkward and out of place Aelin almost pitied him. Almost, there was the whole abandonment thing holding back her compassion.

“Elsie is playing with the other kids, but I’m sure once she sees you she’ll come and say hello,” Aelin said, not sure of what else to do now.

“Right,” Evander nodded. “Rowan, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Bless Evander and his tact for leading Rowan away, most likely to talk about nothing. It relieved some of the tension but not all of it. Aelin was sure that she wouldn’t relax until she was safe at home again. She looked at the play equipment and saw Korby and Rue helping Elsie across the ropes arranged as a spider’s web. It was quite sweet how those boys doted on her.

“So, you married Lorcan, did you?” Iris said, starting up a conversation with Elide.

Aelin felt a tug on her hand, and was being drawn off to the side. It wasn’t a child though.

“I don’t think Iris is very happy with me,” Fensys whispered.

“I’m sure you’re imagining it.” Aelin did not sound convincing.

Her boyfriend sighed. “I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess Rowan left out the little tidbit about us.”

“Mama!” This time it was a child that took Aelin’s hand. “Mama, not watching.”

“No, sorry, I wasn’t,” Aelin dropped into a crouch, wiping off a smudge of dirt on Elsie’s face. “Did you see that Iris and Evan are here?”

The pigtails on top of her head whipped around as Elsie turned in search of her newest friends. She grinned when she spotted Iris talking to Elide.

“Wanna go say hi?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, ‘peas,” Elsie said, not waiting for her mother before running for Iris’ legs. Luckily she didn’t collide too hard and Iris just placed a comforting hand on the little girl’s head.

“You want to do this now?” Fenrys asked as Aelin stood.

“Might as well.”

There had been extensive conversation about how The Introduction, as they had dubbed it, would go. Aelin wasn’t exactly comfortable sending off Elsie by herself, and on the flip side she also didn’t feel comfortable being the fifth wheel in the situation. Fenrys offered to do it instead, despite the history between him and Rowan. That had mellowed out anyway and the boys would have to be on their best behaviour with Rowan’s parent’s around. It wasn’t a question of trust, Aelin knew Elsie was entirely safe. She just wanted someone who would be wholly on Elsie’s side and be a way out if she needed it. So it was decided Fenrys would do it, keeping his distance and not interfering, but just to keep an eye on things.

Fenrys went over and charmingly sorted out the situation himself, following as Iris took Elsie’s hand and walked towards where Rowan and his father had been waiting. He kept his distance, like he said he would, hands in his pockets as he spoke to both his companions. They reached their destination and Aelin watched it all happen as Rowan crouched down to talk to Elsie. She couldn’t see Elsie’s face, but Rowan’s lit up. He smiled, it looked slightly stunned, but it was there. They talked for a few moments before Korbin darted over, full speed as he used the momentum of coming off the slide to propel himself. He spoke to Elsie, completely ignoring the adults. The little girl at least gave her audience a wave before she ran off as well.

“I don’t know why you agreed to this.”

Aelin threw a glance over her shoulder and saw Aedion scowling in Rowan’s direction. Out of everyone Aedion had been the most vocal and oppositional to Rowan attending today. Even though Aelin had explained the reasoning for it multiple times and with her cousin being as stubborn as she was, refused to alter his opinion.

“It’s my business, not yours,” Aelin snapped.

“Sure, whatever,” Aedion dropped Ruben’s lunchbox on the table and then started walking away.

“Wait, where are you going?” Aelin had her suspicions.

Aedion turned still, stepping backward, a devilish smile on his face. “I’m just going to have a little chat.”

~~~~~

One thing Rowan didn’t want to do was force the interaction, so his father kept him company while he kept his distance from the rest of the party. He was wishing Lorcan had come, but it was only Elide with their two boys. It would just make the whole situation a whole less awkward with someone who was willing to talk to him. Rowan was definitely the outsider and he wasn’t going to push his luck. He also didn’t miss the baleful glares that Aedion was sending his way.

“He’s her cousin, right?” His father asked and Rowan nodded. “Big brother is more like.”

“They’ve been close since they were kids,” Rowan explained.

Evander hummed something, then sat down on a nearby bench. “Looks like your mother is working her magic.”

Rowan turned, his breath catching at the sight of his mother leading his daughter by the hand—coming right for them. Elspeth was nearly bouncing with uncontained energy. Her grandmother was saying something and the toddler listened with rapt attention. Rowan was so focused on Elspeth that she didn’t notice at first that Fenrys was with them, keeping his distance but looking very much the protective Uncle. It seemed Aelin had sent a bodyguard along, Rowan wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or impressed. They all stopped a healthy distance away

“Elsie, I want to meet someone,” Iris said. “This is my son Rowan, I think you’ve seen him around.”

Elspeth looked in between the two adults, before she settled on him and gave Rowan a wide smile. “Hi, hi, Ro-yen.”

His heart flipped in his chest to hear her try and pronounce his name in her sweet little voice. Rowan couched down so that he could see her better. “Hi, Elsie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Officially.”

Elspeth laughed, hugging Iris’ leg. Rowan couldn’t help his own smile at the toddler’s vivaciousness.

She babbled something too fast for Rowan to follow along, so he just nodded instead. The moment they were having was broken by Korbin running over. “Elsie come play. Rue will catch you on the slide.”

“Yeah!” Elspeth took the hand Korbin offered, but she turned back to wave, “Bye! Bye!”

Iris gave Elspeth a little wave as Rowan stood, she said to anyone that would listen, “She’s such a darling.”

Fenrys politely excused himself. “I’ll head back.”

With nothing else to do, Rowan sat down on a bench to give his parents a break from babysitting him, telling them he’d be fine and to go chat. He started going through some emails for work when the unexpected happened. A shadow fell over him, and looking up Rowan saw Aedion standing in front of him. They hadn’t interacted since the day Rowan had arrived in Orynth and he didn’t expect this conversation to go any better than that one. The look on Aedion’s face had Rowan standing, just even the playing field.

“I don’t know why she's doing what she’s doing or what your game plan is here, but you have no idea what Aelin has been through these past three years without you.” Aedion crossed his arms just to look more imposing. “So don’t get comfortable.”

“Your opinion is duly noted,” Rowan said, reminding himself he wasn’t here to start a fight, especially not with Aedion. Not when this whole charade was his first chance at real connection. He wanted to comment on how it actually hadn’t been his fault that he was excluded from Elspeth’s life, but that was an inflammatory comment. Luckily Rowan was saved by his phone ringing. “I have to take this.”

Aedion just nodded and let him be. The call turned out to be from a telemarketer but it still gave Rowan the out he needed. He sat on the bench again, seeing that his mother was with Elsie, the two of them searching in the grass for something. From where he sat, Rowan could hear her squeal of excitement and he couldn’t help but smile. He began wishing she’d come over to him again, or maybe he could go over to her, a few sentences wasn’t how he imagined this day going.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Elide asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Of course not,” Rowan replied, moving down the wooden bench to make room for her. She had her youngest with her, sleeping despite the sunlight and the noise.

“Single guy at the park,” she clicked her tongue. “Not a good look.”

“Hey, I could be some single dad with no friends and one of those kids could be mine,” Rowan said wryly. “Hold on a second.”

Elide laughed but quickly stopped herself when it disturbed the baby in her arms.

“I come in peace, I swear,” she said as she sat down. “I never thanked you properly for what you did for Lorcan after Eamon was born. It really helped us out. Life with a newborn isn’t easy and you throw a toddler into that…” she made an exasperated sound. “You made my life a lot easier.”

“Don’t mention it,” Rowan said, and he meant it. He didn’t know what to do with that line of conversation.

“Rowan, I also wanted to apologise. I was not nice to you when you arrived,” Elide said.

Rowan shrugged. “You had a perfectly good reason not to.”

“Still… I don’t know.” Elide sighed. “This whole thing is a mess.”

With nothing to say, Rowan just nodded along. A silence stretched out, it wasn’t particularly awkward and he was grateful for whatever solidarity Elide was showing him right now.

Out of nowhere she said, “Do you want to hold him?”

Rowan’s gaze snapped over to where Elide was gently gesturing to her son. A bubble of nervousness rose in him, he hadn’t really ever held a baby before, not since he was younger and his little cousins had been placed on his lap. But regardless of all that, Rowan found himself wanting to.

“Yeah, if that's okay,” he said lamely.

Elide in all her wisdom read every bit of nervousness he had and smiled. “I’ll help you.”

She stood so that she could rest the baby in Rowan’s arms easier. Once he had a firm grip on Eamon, Elide gently prompted his arms to where they needed to be for a more comfortable hold. The infant was cradled in his arms, looking so small and peaceful.

“Breathe, Rowan,” Elide chided. “That won’t wake him up.”

Rowan hadn't even noticed how shallow his breathing had gotten until Elide pointed it out. He did what he was told, letting out a large exhale. And she had been right, the baby didn’t wake up. Eamon wasn’t heavy, but it was a comforting sort of weight in Rowan’s arms. There was some clarity and peace that came from holding a baby that he had been totally ignorant of.

“Ro-yen!”

That little voice almost startled him, and Rowan might have jumped if not for his determination not to wake Eamon. Elspeth was running for him cutting across the grass and the concrete path.

“Hey there,” Rowan said. “What are you doing Elspeth?”

Behind her, his mothering was following, just a bit slower than a rambunctious toddler.

“I have a thing,” Elspeth declared. Then she noticed the baby in Rowan’s arms. “Oh, baby.”

So gently, she patted Eamon’s dark hair.

“Here, I’ll leave you to it,” Elide said, taking the baby back and leaving him and Elspeth alone.

Elspeth looked up at him, green eyes shining as she smiled. “I have a thing.”

She climbed up onto the bench next to him, and even though Rowan was compelled to help her he didn’t. In the end she managed absolutely fine on her own. Now, Rowan could only watch as she reached out, picking up his hand from where it had rested on his knee. He let her pry his fingers open and put a small white flower in the middle of his palm. Elspeth’s tiny hand rested on his wrist, her finger contracting to hold him better. Rowan was still as anything, like the smallest movement might scare her away.

“For you,” Elspeth declared.

“Thank you,” Rowan said, still not moving a muscle. “It’s beautiful.”

“Like you!” she said, sitting back on her knees. “Mama say that everyone is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” was the only reply Rowan could come up with.

“Just so you know,” his mother said, having finally caught up. “I in no way shape or form encouraged this.”

That stunned Rowan even further.

“Iris is my friend,” Elspeth said. “You can be my friend too, Ro-yen.”

With that simple and heartfelt declaration Elspeth was off, back to chasing Korbin around the playground. Rowan looked down at the flower in his hand, not wanting to lose it he pulled out his wallet and slipped it inside.

“That went well,” Iris said, smiling after her granddaughter. Rowan didn’t have the words to reply, he just nodded. Noticing his pensive state, his mother offered, “Time to go?”

Rowan gave an awkward general goodbye to the overall group, not noticing who returned it. Elspeth gave him an enthusiastic wave however from the top of the slide and he returned it. On the drive back to the hotel his parents were staying in, Rowan managed to keep up small talk all the way up to saying goodbye. He blacked all feeling until he was back in his apartment, thankfully not running into anyone else that might live in the building.

Once inside, a myriad of feelings hit him. He could still feel the phantom touch of Elspeth touching him, like his brain was determined to remember it, to hold onto that feeling as long as he could. Rowan could also the remember the feeling of Eamon in his arms, and he began to wonder if she had felt like that. He would never know, he never got the chance to know her when he was that small.

Rowan braced his hands on the kitchen counter, barely remembering how he got there, as it felt like his chest was caving in. Today had been a tiny glimpse of what he had missed, of a little life he hadn’t had the privilege to be a part of. Something inside him longed for it, and he wasn’t afraid to admit how much that terrified him.

Questions flooded him, close to overwhelming him. Why hadn’t Aelin told him? Why hadn’t she reached out and let him be a part of this? Why couldn’t he shake the rage that was welling inside him?

A fist slammed on the counter and Rowan hissed at the pain. It offered him some clarity enough to realise it had been him. He had been an absolute bastard, and the fallout may not have been entirely his fault but he shared the majority of it. Enough was enough, some twisted lines of fate had given Rowan this opportunity and he wasn’t about to waste his second chance.

It was time that he proved himself.

~~~~~

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#made of ashes #rowaelin fanfiction

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wastelandmoony · 1 year

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Déjà Vécu: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen : Kiss & Tell

Summary: Ending the school year with a revelation.

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only!, angst, anxiety/overwhelming feelings, language, mentions of death and self harm, mentions of abuse, mentions of drinking.

Read on AO3

Companion Playlist

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

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May 6th, 1974

As Spring rolled in, the grounds began to thaw, but the air still held the occasional brisk chill. The same hot and cold could perfectly describe the state of Sirius and Mary’s relationship. The marathon make-out sessions were replaced by explosive arguments, each one being of similar substance: Sirius’ immaturity. Frankly, she was on Mary’s side with almost every fight they overheard, though none ever dared to get involved. The tension amongst the group was wound so tightly, with Sirius more often than not in a sour mood due to being scolded by his girlfriend for being a complete and utter twat. Mary, being strong and vocally opinionated, was never one to back down, holding her ground for as long as possible until Sirius would eventually slink back and apologize, resulting in a feverous display of lips and tongues.

The following week, the cycle would start again. It was exhausting.

On the morning of May’s full moon, Remus Lupin snapped.

“PLEASE! For the love of Merlin, Godric, and all things sacred, can you two REFRAIN from trying to swallow the other whole during breakfast!” He slammed his fists onto the table, startling the rest of them with the aggression.

The entire surrounding table went silent. Sirius and Mary stared at him in shock, hands still tangled in each other’s hair.

One could blame it on the moon, but they had all wanted to say it out loud for months now, it was only a matter of time.

After the initial shock of the outburst wore off, Sirius pinched his face into a scowl, “What’s got you all pissy?”

From under the table, she landed a swift kick to his shin. James, Peter, herself, and Sirius had all memorized the lunar cycles ever since finding out about Remus’ lycanthropy, always aware of the upcoming full moons months in advance. Sirius however, had begun to slack, choosing instead to memorize the curves of his girlfriends body.

Remus stood up in a huff, tossing his book bag over a shoulder and storming out of the hall.

She watched as the realization of what Sirius had done washed over his face.

“You’re an absolute moron,” she grumbled while he raked a hand through his messy hair.

Mary slid off his lap and onto the bench, “Is Remus okay? He seems really on edge…”

“He’s fine,” James, her, and Peter said in unison. Not suspicious at all.

“He seems to be in the hospital wing a lot—“ Lily chimed in, brow creased in concern.

“—he gets migraines,” she shot the redhead a firm look, one that demanded an end to the matter.

“Oh my mum’s prone to those, they’re awful!” Thank god for Mary fucking MacDonald.

Seizing the window, James stood up and clapped a now-sulking Sirius on the shoulder, “I’m headed to the pitch, fancy some drills?”

He nodded, offering a half-hearted smile to his friend and rising from the table.

“Mind if I join?” She began to pack up her bag, “I could use a welcome distraction from studying.”

James grinned, eager at the chance to indoctrinate another member into his quidditch cult.

Marlene tagged along as well, catching up just as they were approaching the pitch. They began to part, James, Sirius, and Marlene heading to the field while she was contented to stay in the stands and observe. The two boys were already rocketing into the air when she heard Marlene whistle, turning to see her friend standing with an extra broom in her hand, waggling her eyebrows, “We can have a pick-up game if you join!”

Minutes later, she found herself sitting thirty feet in the air, watching as Sirius launched the quaffle past Marlene’s outstretched arm and through the hoop she had been trying to defend. Sirius pumped his fist victoriously into the air as Marlene pouted, shooting him a determined death glare. The sun was almost at its highest point, blazing down as the four of them got lost amongst the early summer breeze.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, James came to a hovering stop alongside.

“Thanks for letting me join you, it feels really good to get my head out of the books for a bit,” she smiled, watching as he wiped his glasses with his shirt.

“I’m happy you came,” he grinned back, “I’ve missed you.”

“You see me every day, James.”

Putting his glasses back on, he stared over at the other two, who were testing out new tactics for next year’s quidditch season, “Yeah, but it seems like you’ve grown distant the past few months—”

Her eyes snapped to his face. Had she been pulling away? End of term exams were taking up most of her time recently, Remus usually being the only one to accompany her in the library.

James’ melancholy face watched Sirius across the pitch, eyes never leaving his friend as he swooped around, “—are you avoiding him?”

Her left hand tightened around the broom handle, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about…”

Sirius completed an impressive dive, smiling broadly over at them in a silent “did you see me?”

He looked beautiful out here in the sunlight, the warm air rustling his hair in just the right way.

He always looked beautiful.

Goddamnit.

She looked over at James, eyes pleading with him for help.

The bastard smirked.

“I won’t say anything, I promise.”

His words did little to regulate her wildly beating heart.

“How did this happen…” she whispered, James returning a shrug.

“If I’m being honest, I had a bet with Pete that you and Lupin would end up together by fourth year.”

She kicked him playfully, “Glad to hear my love life is such a hot topic for you two.”

James smiled smugly, dark unruly curls falling into his eyes as a breeze rushed past.

“Besides,” she gazed back over towards the opposite end of the pitch, “We already explored that, and it didn’t work.”

“What?!” James nearly fell off his broom, eyes wide as he stared in disbelief at her mischievous grin.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Potter.”

James made a face somewhere between shock and offense, steadying himself on the broom. Meters away, Sirius dove down towards the field, and her eyes followed, landing on Mary who had just entered the stands. James must have heard the hitch in her breath as Sirius scooped Mary up and twirled her around.

“I like Mary—” he stated matter-of-factly.

She hummed in response, not giving way to the storm of emotions stirring just beyond her throat.

“—but I don’t think they’ll last,” he shook his head.

“Why not? She’s nice, and pretty, and—“

“—he doesn’t let her in…not like he does with you,” James’ eyes were zeroed in on hers, “It’s why she’s so short with him, why they’re constantly at odds, she has no idea what’s going on in his head.”

But do any of them? Does anyone actually know what’s going on in Sirius Black’s labyrinth of a brain? She thought back to the time in his bed, curtains pulled tight as he confessed everything; the look in his eyes that screamed for human connection. Had he only truly opened up to her?

“Does he…talk to you?” It came out of her mouth as barely a whisper, watching as James took a deep breath.

“He does,” he sighed, “but not until after you apparently.”

She stared at him blankly. That couldn’t be true, right? James and Sirius were best friends, and she was just…her.

As she opened her mouth to say something, James’ eyes lit up towards something on the ground. Following his beaming, she saw a flash of red hair appear beside Mary in the stands, turning back to watch James’ expression work through (at minimum) five emotions at once.

She shook her head, letting out a low laugh, “Go on, then. I’m going to fly around a bit, you don’t need to wait for me.”

James shot her a thankful wink before soaring down to once again try and flatter Lily Evans.

She pulled up, easing the broom into taking her upwards a few more feet. Clearing the tops of the stand towers, she had an unobstructed view of the castle in all its glory. The lake was choppy today, tips of tiny waves hummed along the surface like television static. She closed her eyes and breathed in the warm spring air. If she focused hard enough, she could smell the greenhouses, the woody scent of freshly mulched beds paired with earthy petrichor. The vibrations of another presence forced her eyes open.

“If you go any higher you’ll end up in the clouds at this rate,” Sirius smiled.

She returned the gesture on a smaller scale, James’ words still echoing in her head.

“Where’d Mary run off to?” She didn’t see why he had followed her up here.

Sirius shrugged, squinting off over the lake, “Something about studying with Remus.”

That strangely made her feel better, knowing that someone was keeping him company. Mary could hold her own when it came to Remus’ random moods, though still completely in the dark about their root cause. She silently hoped he apologized for his outburst earlier, making a note to ask later tonight.

“Y’know,” he broke the silence, eyeing her with a hopeful expression, “You’ve gotten a lot better at flying since our last group outing—“

She took a swing at his shoulder, one that he narrowly missed by shifting slightly. Sirius grinned, causing her to burst out laughing.

“I think I still have bruises from that fall,” she giggled.

“You should really think about trying out for the team next year, we have a chaser leaving and a few alternates. I’m sure James would love to have you on the roster.”

She shot him a look, “Be serious, please.”

His expression was unwavering as he stared back, “I always am, Yellowjacket.”

She groaned loudly. Insufferable.

“Are you that eager to spend more time with me, Black?” She jested, sticking her tongue between her teeth.

Although she was joking, for a brief moment something completely sincere glazed over Sirius’ face, only to be quickly broken by one of his trademark smirks.

“Race you back?” The look in his eyes was beautifully sinister.

An equally devilish smile was returned by her, turning quickly to beat him back to the ground.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #marauders era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #marauders x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x you #james potter fluff

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zablife · 2 years

Text

Champagne Problems

Alfie Solomons x wife reader

Summary: You're hosting a party in a matter of minutes, but too drunk to manage. How will Alfie react?

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @wandawiccan60. Tysm for requesting this bc I love writing for Alfie!

Warnings: drinking

Although the party downstairs had already begun, you were still in your satin slip, attempting to wrap a long double strand of pearls around your neck. However, you were hopelessly entangled, afraid to move for fear of breaking the beloved piece of jewelry. Finally you had no choice but to call out desperately to your husband, “Alfieeeee!”

Alfie popped his head out of the bathroom, looking handsome in his tuxedo. He took in the sight of you, struggling with the present he’d bought you two months ago after you’d given him the most beautiful baby girl. He wondered what you were doing and why you weren't ready.

“I’m caught, Alf!” You whimpered pathetically before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m like a little spider caught in my own beautiful pearl web, my darling!”

Alfie ran a hand over his beard as he glanced at the empty champagne glass in front of you, realizing you were drunk. “Let me help you, treacle,” he said rushing to your side. Alfie untangled you easily, placing the necklace on a tray before turning to you with a serious expression.

He pointed at the champagne glass asking, “How many have you had?” He couldn’t really blame you if you'd chosen to indulge though, tonight was your one night off from your duties as a new mum. You'd been taking such good care of your daughter, but you were nervous about playing hostess for the first time in months. He had been the one to bring you the first glass of refreshment to ease your nerves and now he was regretting that decision.

“I…well…” you couldn’t admit it had only been one glass that had you feeling lightheaded. Then again it had been nearly a year since you’d had any alcohol due to the pregnancy and breastfeeding your new babe. “It was just the one, love,” you admitted softly, looking down at your hands.

It was Alfie’s turn to laugh then and he let out an uproarious fit, smacking his knee at your honesty. “You are a picture, dove. Can you walk?” He asked trying to assess how drunk you were and if you could greet guests in your current state. You stood from the vanity and fell into his arms.

“Right, well, you’re off to bed,” he said, picking you up bridal style with a grunt.

“Alfie, you’ll hurt your hip,” you protested, reaching for his cheek in worry.

“And you’ll break your neck if you try to walk in these heels so I think the trade off is fair enough innit?” he said studying you carefully. You laughed at his justification and allowed him to place you on the bed gingerly. You smiled watching his large fingers fumble with the buckle of your shoes and said, “I’m sorry to let the side down.”

“Nah, pet. Who’s gonna slag off a new mum for missing a ridiculous party?” He said looking at you lovingly. “Rest, my darlin’. You’ve earned it.” He kissed you gently as he pulled the covers over you.

You sat up slightly and held his cheeks between your small hands. “I love you, Alf. Come back to bed and I’ll show you how much.” He hummed with satisfaction and pushed you back into the pillows. “Rest first,” he implored and you closed your heavy eyelids.

Moodboard created by the lovely @raincoffeeandfandoms. Ty for the beautiful gift!

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Alfie Solomons fanfic #Alfie Solomons imagine #Alfie Solomons x female reader

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willow-writer-ivy · 9 months

Text

The Story of us

So here is the first official chapter of TSOU please enjoy the next chapter is due next sat also face claim for Ophlia is Olivia Holt :)

The story of us look like a tradgey now.

Every story has a beginning, middle and ending. However, my story starts when we were 9 and it's still ongoing. Will it end? I mean we just have to find out.

“He shoots, he scores,” Jamie shouts as he kicks the ball into the goal only to pout when the ball didn't get in, “Lia, you're supposed to let me score,” he whined. Lia laughed as she picked up the ball.

“Im a goalie im suppose to save the goal,”

“But, it's me, your friend. Whatever kick it back to me,”

Lia smiled as she kicked the ball; she watched as it hit Jamie straight in the face. “Crap! MUM aunt Georgie!” Lia screamed before running over to Jamiee, who was trying not to cry.

“I'm so sorry,” she says

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt.” Lia watched as Georgie ran over to them both, “Im sorry,” she cried; she could feel her mother pull her into a hug, whispering it was not her fault, “Don't be silly darling, just a nose. bleed come on, dinner is ready,”

“So I take it you're not becoming a footballer, then?” Jamie asks as he lies down next to Lia, who shakes her head, “Nope, think I'm going to stick to dancing; less chance of hurting anyone,”

“Shame, I would be awesome. Jamie Tarrt's best friend is another footballer; we both be famous,”

“Really, keep dreaming,” Lia mumbles.

“Oh, come think about I’ll be a famous footballer, and you be a famous dancer; we make quite a pair,”

“Keep dreaming; what if I don't wanna be a dancer or you don't want to be a footballer?”

“Why wouldn’t I be a footballer? What am I good at?” he asked, slightly upset.

“I mean, we are 9; what if by the time we're old, we doing totally different things,”

“Not me, I'm a footballer, just watch. I’ll be playing besides Roy Kent and you, well, you be an amazing dancer on Broadway, who will come to my games obviously,”

“And why is that? What if I don't want to be a dancer, or I'm not even your friend by then?” Jamie glanced at Ophelia, “Where is all of this coming from?” he asked as he turned on his stomach.

“You might not see it, but close your eyes and imagine it. I do; when I'm at home in my bed, I close my eyes and think, "I mean, can't you imagine it,” Jamie glanced over at Lia, who had her eyes closed; a slight smile could be seen. “We can make it,” he whispered.

That was Jamie all over even from a young age he knew what he wanted to be, stubborn from the day he was born, that what georgie use to say about him, and i can see why most of us at the age of 9 don't even know what we want to play with but Jamie, he knew and that what i remember about him once he gets an idea he stick at it no matter how embarrassing, silly or hard it is.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5 years and nothing has changed well not for Jamie at least he is still trying to be a footballer, and he is pretty good, I mean he Jamie he is currently playing on a u16 team and he will get scouted. I mean look at him.

“So how did this happen again?” Coach Adams says as he glares at the teenagers sitting in his office, his eyes landing on the only non-injured person. “Tarrt, explain,”

“Well, it was an open game, meaning anyone could play, so this girl asked to play with us, and we all agreed except Connor, who said girls are weak, but we ignored him and let her play. She has a mean kick; once she scored a goal, she turned to Connor and said it was embarrassing that someone who plays football defeated a girl. The next time she had a ball, he did a dirty tackle, causing her to fly across the pitch,” He says, looking over at the girl; she seemed very familiar. “So, how did Connor get a busted nose?” Adams asked.

“Because after he tackled me, I went to be the goalkeeper, stopped Connor from scoring, and then kicked the ball, hitting him in the face, which was an accident. I have a habit of kicking the ball into people's faces. Just ask my mum,”

“Connor, is this true?” Adam asked,

“No sir, they're lying. Tartt is jealous that I'm better than him and got this bitch to attack me!” he says.

“Call me a bitch and see what happens,” the girl says, standing up and facing him, causing Jamie to stand between them.

“Well, Connor, according to the camera, their story adds up. Miss, I'm sorry. What is your name?” Adam asks.

“Ophelia, Hart,”

Jamie froze; no, this is not her, “Well, Miss Hart, the under-16 woman, is looking for a new player,”

“Sorry, sir, but football is not really my thing,”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I'm more for dancing. I'm only here cause my mum was picking me up with an old friend,”

“Well, that's a shame if dancing doesn't work out; you know where to find me. As for you, Connor, I think two weeks of being benched and helping the girl's team would do you some good. Tarot, well done for not causing trouble this time,”

Jamie watched as Connor stormed off, not before glaring at them both, “Well, that went well,” Lia said, looking at her phone. “Nice seeing you again, Tarrt; I am slightly offended that you didn't remember me. i thought that kick would make you remember she mumbles.

“Shit Lia, my Lia who used to live next to me,” Jamie says. “Fuck, your hot,” “shit, I mean,” Jamie shut his mouth before he could make things worse; he noticed Lia laughing at him.

I loved being his Lia.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

9 years old.

When Jamie found out Lia was leaving, they ran away, more like hiding in the treehouse Lia's dad built for them, “We could stay here, you know,” Jamiee says as he stares up at the ceiling. “Or me mum can have ya; she always said you were a daughter she always wanted,”

“I tried, no luck; mum showed me where we will live. It's nice, but it means I won't see you,” she says. “I mean, were J&L the famous footballer and the dancer,”

“Thought you said it was a silly dream,”

“It's not silly, it's nice something to dream about, and as to quote snow white, if you dream it more than once, it will come true so,”

“I've got you something. Had to beg me mum, but here,” Jamie dropped a little box into Lia's hand. Lia smiled when she opened the box, “It's a football necklace, so you can wear it whenever you miss me.”

That was the end of us, I mean I thought it was you know how it is at 9 the littlest thing is the end of the world, but moving away from your best friend is definitely the worst thing, if only she knew the worst is yet to come.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present.

“I see you still dreaming of being a famous footballer?” Lia asked as she sat on the steps of the sports centre

“Of course, and what about you? Are you still my dancer?” he asked, sitting beside her.

“Yeah, actually, there is this audition to join a dance team,”

“You smash it when is it?”

“I already had it; it's why I came here. Mum said she would pick me up after she had a catch-up with someone,”

“So, how long have you been back?” he asked.

“2 years ago, we lived in Sheffield and then moved back here a few months ago.” Just then, there was a beep; the couple looked to see Emma and Georgie in the car, “Lia, what happened!” Emma says as she jumps out of the car.

“Relax, mum, it's fine,” Lia says.

“It's true, Emma; you should see the other guy,” Jamie watched as Emma stared at him.

“Jamiee,” Emma says, pulling him into a hug; he watches as Georgie does the same to Ophelia. “Oh, how you guys have grown,”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years later.

It's strange, being friends with someone, I mean we knew each other since we were 9 and watching them grow, however it was hard, watching seeing the person you once knew change and not for the best, Jamie was changing, he knew he was good.

“Tarrt scores another goal, making it 3-1,” Ophelia smiles as Jamie runs around the pitch, cheering with his teammates; she noticed that Adams was talking to someone she knew Jamie was being scouted for.

When the games ended, everyone stood up cheering; Opheila watched as Jamie ran over and pulled her into a kiss, causing his teammates to whoop and cheer. Ophelia watched as Jamiee dragged her over to his teammates, “I see you have met my gorgeous girlfriend,”

“So what did you think?” Jamie asked as he gave Opheila his jacket.

“You were good,” she says looking up at him, “So what did Andrew want to talk to you about?”

“Oh, I'm being scouted, for man city, there is an over 16 junior football team and he says i have potential but i need to play really well in my next few games so hopefully i'll be playing professionally next year.”

And he did, when Jamie got told the news we had a massive party, his team, me my mum his mum and step dad, it was one of the best memories we had, i remember he pulled me away from the party, and we shared a moment just the two of us, if only i knew

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years later.

“What do you mean we're done?” Ophelia asks.

“Well, since im big time now, i think i should date someone you know in my league, i mean, im Jamie fucking Tarrt. Besides, you haven't been a good girlfriend. i mean, ever since i got signed, you haven't been to any of the games. Do you know how embarrassing it is,”

“Are you fucking kidding me, i have a life, new flash; the world doesn't revolve around you, i have a life alright, and your right, i haven't been a girlfriend, but you've been a shit boyfriend, tell me do you know what day it is?”

“No, if it's so important, I wouldn't have forgotten,” Jamie watched as Ophelia flipped him off; only then did he notice the suitcase. “Are you seriously leaving me, babe? No one leaves me?”

“I am, happy fucking 5 years anniversary to us,”

There we are the story done, from childhood friends, to lover to strangers all the memories we shared that's all we had, you know how it is we split up went our different ways, and so that was it the end of us, well i thought it was but apparently life loves to throw a spanner into the works.

#fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x ofc #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x female character #jamie tartt imagine

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tutuandscoot · 8 months

Note

Part three of the interwiew moment feels thing. Is Scott dissing current ice skating saying they grew up in an era where they had to take risks? Also i find the fact that they sometimes choose what to do based on what would be more unexpected hilarious. And Scott mentioning Suzanne by name saying she sort of lay the groundwork for that, like yea give that woman all the credit she deserves. Oh and them talking a lot whenever they do meet up now thats really endearing, sort of derailing the interwiew. Their parents waking up at 4 in the morning every day for years oh they really must have loved seeing their kids doing what they loved, it seems like a small thing but really its huge, how much they did for their kids. And the train analogy is nice and Scott saying he really likes it too when tessa is wondering if shes taking it too far. They really support each other so much. And them ending the interwiew saying they wouldnt be where they are without all the people supporting them. Its a really nice way to end the interwiew not focusing on themself but on others. And yea thats the interwiew. I hope this wasnt too rambling for you. If I manage to form more coherent thoughts about parts of this, il send you another ask. But yea the interwiew had a really nice vibe to it, being serious but not at the same time.

No this was a more coherent summary than I could’ve done!

This bit about their parents sacrificing so much for them:

So heads up I’m not a parent and I’m an only child so i might be speaking out of my arse here and of course every family situation is different

Disclosures out of the way;

When I was growing up dancing and being super into it and quite talented- starting to look for more opportunities out side of just my crappy dance school, my mum would basically drop everything for me. She wasn’t a single parent but she basically was bc my dad did nothing for me in this respect, she had one part time job that didn’t pay much and every single cent went to me and my dancing. I didn’t have the early wake ups like vm did thankfully but I had to travel really far away to get better training. She would pick my up from school after work 3 days a week and we would drive 2 hours away for 4 hours of dance, finish at 9 and drive home for 2 hours while I sleep in the car and the next day I would have to be at school at 6 am for school dance, then there was the exorbitant fees for training, pointe shoes, uniforms, physio, competitions, travel- my first international competition I got to the finals and she didn’t have enough money left to get a ticket to watch me, so she waited in the dressing rooms listening over the sound system.

She did so much for me and when I stopped dancing due to my back problems she layed an enormous amount of guilt on herself thinking it was her fault/ she shouldn’t have let me pursue this when my back condition developed bc it ended in so much pain and heart break. That was really hard for us and we fell out of our very close relationship over that grief, but we’re now getting back on better terms.

(I’m sorry this is a little life story)

On the contrary:

My best friend growing up who I danced with, she was one of 3 kids and her family was far more well off than me, she did dance and gymnastics- I’m pretty sure at one point she was national level at gymnastics. Anyway, one day her mum said to my mum “I could never do what you do for your daughter (me)”.

Now she had 3 young kids, worked full time, understandable it would be hard to take her daughter all around the place.

But VM’s parents did it.

They both have multiple siblings, yes some of T’s were much older when she was a child starting skating, but Scott’s were closer in age. T’s parents worked full time- her grandma helped out a lot. Skating is RIDICULOUSLY expensive and very hard to get funding for- a lot of adult skaters work other jobs to support themselves. They did it- they did all that for their kids- their youngest kids at that which a) in a way the others were older and could take care of themselves more but b) raising kids is expensive and again I’m not a parent but I imagine by kid 3 or 4 this gets exhausting- so now having the last kids to be born in each family be the ones doing the most and having the most insane- as VM said, depraved lifestyle full of strictness most kids don’t ever insure- their parents still did that for them.

This is not a comment on good and bad parenting- as I said people have different situations- but there are some that really do go above and beyond and don’t let anything/ don’t make excuses for themselves as parents for not giving their children everything to succeed- VM’s parents are incredible they deserve so much credit for what wonderful children they raised- NO MEDIA TRAINING- they were just raised so well to be kind and empathetic and appreciate every opportunity to afforded them.

Parents of the freaking century!!

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harrison-abbott · 3 months

Text

FREDDIE

My brother Freddie was sentenced to be executed. He’d been on Death Row for years; but he was due to be killed next week. On the Tuesday. So I drove over to see him for one last time, on the Saturday.

Freddie was always crazy. He got beaten up a lot by my Dad when he was little. Before I was born, or too young to understand. Because I was born four years after Freddie, and Dad left when I was two, so I don’t remember much of the beatings Freddie took from him. Dad abandoned us with Mum.

And then Mum started beating Freddie. Like it was some kind of replacement. As if she was replacing her man’s behaviour: and those incidents I do remember. Freddie cowering in the corner of the kitchen whilst she kept kicking him; and she would pull his hair and prod him in the kidneys. She did it with me as well. She’d slap me. The vaguest thing would rocket her off. Mostly when she was tired after coming home from the supermarket, a thirteen hour shift and she hadn’t had a drink yet.

Then one day when Freddie was nine he fought back. She started on him. Again, in the kitchen; and I began screaming for her to stop. Freddie picked up a chair and he whacked her with it.

And there followed this clean silence in the room. All of us quite amazed. I remember watching Freddie’s face. He didn’t look like Freddie anymore. And I had rarely seen Mother scared before, aside from when it came to bills, and where to find money, or if she had ran out of booze.

Then Freddie hit her again, with the chair, and Mum shrieked and ran away and locked herself in her bedroom.

That gave Freddie a new perspective of himself which was ironic in so many ways. Because he’d responded to his parental battery with physical violence: and it had worked. And yet, there was nobody to help him out with what had happened to him for the last nine years. There was no soul to tell him that what he experienced was not okay and that it was nothing to do with anything he had provoked.

And so he was left with violence as a means of dealing with the planet. And, because he grew tall and brawny from quite a young age, this worked well for him. Made sense.

Freddie wasn’t so mean to me. You’d expect that with all of the abuse he’d taken, he would naturally take it out on his little sister. But he didn’t. That’s what usually happens in families but I can’t put that label on him.

In fact, he could be pretty kind. Like, if Mother was doing one of her tantrums and throwing stuff around the house, he would keep me in his bedroom until the storm had subsided, so she couldn’t get at me. … Or, umm, if I had a fever or the flu he would head down to the store and get me some aspirin and orange juice. Things like those – things that mother didn’t do. …

There was one time on my birthday when Mother was out getting drunk somewhere, that Freddie and his mate Benny got me this little cake from the supermarket. There weren’t any candles because we didn’t have any candles at home. So they sang happy birthday to me without any candles on it. But Freddie told me to make a wish anyway and pretend that there were candles there anyway, and that I could blow them out in my imagination. And the wish would still come true. And Freddie and Benny had just stolen the cake from the supermarket, because they didn’t have the money to buy it. And Freddie admitted that he’d nicked it. They just put the cake box in Freddie’s rucksack and bolted out the doors with it. Benny was laughing, and it got me giggling as well. So Freddie, Bennie and I gorged on the stolen cake. … That remains my favourite birthday. In fact that was the only birthday I’ve ever enjoyed.

Freddie first went to jail when he was 17. There’s not much point in explaining what he did back then. Most teenagers don’t have the ability to keep their decision making in check. And that spell damaged the rest of his life. In and out of prisons. He would get released and then do something stupid and would be back in jail for another stretch. His crimes weren’t always violent. Most of them weren’t actually. But he couldn’t cope with his mind. How can anybody cope with that deranged type of history?

Our Mother died when Freddie was inside on one of these stretches. When I went to visit him back then I asked him if he could get permission to leave, for a day, to come to the funeral? Would he be able to do that?

“I don’t want to come to the funeral,” Freddie said. And his face was about as blank as if he was saying he didn’t like a particular taste or smell.

The crime that put him on Death Row I don’t want to talk about. That definitely was a vicious deed. Freddie had finally snapped, in an ultimate sense. And he knew that the death penalty was legal in this State. And he must’ve known that he would get caught. He didn’t even try and flee. Just let the police arrest him.

And so now I was driving over to this prison on a Saturday morning to go and see my elder brother for the last ever time.

I tried to listen to music on the drive over. But this was too demented. Because I can only ever listen to pop songs, happy songs; and they didn’t fit the mood of what was happening. … Nor did the weather outside match the tone of today, as it was all clear skied with a big smiley sun. The motorway wasn’t busy because it was young morning and I got to the prison building.

It - the building – looked just as horrible as you’d expect. This stark hulking breast of a place.

I had been here to visit Freddie several times before. I had to go through security checks. It bemused me what they would expect from a woman who was five foot three to do in a maximum security institution. What could I possibly do here? But, I suppose, I was my sister’s brother … I’ve certainly done horrible things myself. Am not perfect by any means.

After I had been searched and padded and so on, I was escorted down a long white corridor that smelled of toothpaste. My escort was a man with tough white hair and a black moustache, who smelled of cigarettes, and who chewed gum in a manic fashion. I’d met him a few times before – this guard – and I’d still never heard him speak aside from when I first came to visit Freddie.

The visiting room was at the far end of this hallway.

I saw Freddie fairly quickly. He was sitting calmly at one of the tables. And most of the room was empty, aside from the guards and two other inmates who were waiting on their visitors. The inmates and Freddie wore their orange prison clothing. Whilst the guards hung out on the periphery in their icy way.

Freddie grinned.

Despite what he was and how old and ugly he still had tremendous teeth. When I saw him smile and wave at me I felt this thickness develop in my throat and my eyes began to hurt. But, I made it over to his table. And I was allowed to hug him.

“Hey there, Freddie,” I said.

“Hey there, June.”

His shoulders were like touching a big dog’s back or the bonnet of a car. We sat down.

“Thanks for coming to see me, June,” he said.

“No problem.”

“How is Bruno doing?”

Bruno was my cat that I had at home. I did not, at this point, have a boyfriend, or any children. And so Freddie usually asked me how Bruno the cat was. I told Freddie he was fine. … Then to move the conversation on I began to tell a funny story that happened at my work the other day.

I worked in a restaurant. And the story was that despite me working there for eight years, I had been proud that I had never dropped a single plate or glass, or anything. You know how waiters and waitresses drop plates? It’s just what they do. Well, I hadn’t lost my virginity with that in 8 years working at this joint. And I finally dropped a plate in front of the kitchen staff. Because I had been working there for so long, all the chefs knew me and were fond of me. And they were stunned that I had finally broken something by accident.

And so they all began cheering and applauding that I had achieved a breakage. They bought me drinks after the shifts as a way of celebrating.

“Ho ho ho,” Freddie went. “Well done, Sis. Good effort.”

Those teeth were gleaming again.

And then after my story had finished there was this gap in the dialogue. We were the only people speaking in the room. Because the other prisoners’ guests hadn’t arrived yet, and the guards were still frozen to the walls; and so I was a bit nervous about speaking loud. I’ve never been that good at telling stories orally. As in, face to face. I can write okay, but, I have a naturally quiet voice and I’m just not so neat at saying it in person.

So I was thinking all of the above things and then I looked up at Freddie and he was watching me. He wasn’t smiling and he was concerned, about what I was thinking.

And that heaviness from earlier, in my throat, grew, and my eyes winced. And then I just broke apart and I clapped my hands to my head. Started crying.

It’s odd how when you cry your face blushes up because half of it is with the physical blood of crying and the other half with embarrassment. You can’t control it. And I kept my hands over my face because I felt humiliated in this setting. I tried not to make so much noise. The prisoners and guards were probably aware of it. Where they looking over at me? Yeah, most likely.

Then I felt a warm lumpy feeling on my shoulder. I peeked through my fingers. Freddie was holding me with his thick palm. And he was smiling.

“It’s all right, June,” he whispered, “it will be okay.”

I took out some tissues. And soaked up my cheeks, and gradually the blood in the cheeks faded.

“Jesus, June,” Freddie said, grinning, “it’s me that’s getting a lethal injection on Tuesday. Not you. Cheer up.”

I laughed. The tears spilled down my face in hot lines. The way that summer rain does sometimes when you look out at it from a window.

“Hey, Freddie?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“You remember when we were little. And it was my birthday. I think I must’ve been seven or so. Mum was out who knows where getting hammered. She probably forgot it was my birthday. Remember when you and Benny stole that cake for me? You couldn’t pay for it so you robbed it from the store and took it home as a present?”

Freddie’s eyeballs scanned his memory, and then his eyes flashed. He sprang up.

“Ah, ha! Yeah I do remember that. Ha ha, yeah.”

“It was a really fancy cake as well.”

“Yeah it was pretty tasty.”

We chuckled. I was still crying. I shuddered with rage and despair and memory and humour.

It was crazy that this man was going to be murdered by the State in three days. Insane that this was still happening, that was still allowed to happen, in this century. I couldn’t declare that my brother was a good man. Most likely he wasn’t. But at what point did the State have the righteousness to end his life?

That story about the cake finally made me quit crying. And then Freddie began to tell other stories about Benny (who was his best mate back when they were teens). And, see? Freddie was really great at telling tales face to face. Whereas I wasn’t.

I had an hour to spend with Freddie. That was the time they legally gave us as visitors. There was a clock on the far wall and the long hand got to ten minutes to the hour.

Another little pause in the dialogue. Where we both looked at each other … until Freddie said to me,

“We’ll still see each other in the afterlife, Sis.”

I nodded, and felt my face scrunch up again, go all red again.

Freddie only said the ‘afterlife’. He didn’t whether it would be Heaven or Hell.

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