#I AM SO IN LOVE WITH HER INCANT TAKE IT ANYMORE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsaguapapi · 2 years

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Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8

Chapter 9

Ashes to Ashes

Trigger Warning- Birth, Death, Blood. NO BABIES DIE! *If after reading this chapter and you feel like I left out a warning, please let me know*

Anyhoo, enjoy <3

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The Vibe:

listen before i go

I slowly open my eyes, letting the light peek through. Rubbing my head I feel a piercing headache coming through.

Oh god my head

Realizing I'm not in my bed I sit up scanning the unfamiliar room. Judging by the décor I'm still in Wakanda, but everything looks outdated compared to the room I stayed in the night before. This room was way larger than the guest room I was in, in fact, this looks like Shuri's new room.

"What am I doing here?" I whisper to myself

I get out of bed and look out the window. Just as I thought, I'm in the royal suite; I look out and see that Wakanda looks different, like a de-evolved version of itself. The Maglev Train is nowhere to be seen.

"Something's wrong. This feels wrong." I say to myself. Before I could fully freak out, I feel something take over my body, it was as if I went on autopilot. I hear a knock on the door.

"Your highness are you awake?"

"Yes" I reply, but it wasn't me.

That's not my voice.

"Will you be joining us for breakfast today my Queen?"

"No, thank you"

The voice behind the door pauses before they continue, "Ororo please, I beg you. You need to leave your chambers; it's been months since his death, and your people need you. The baby inside you needs you."

BABY?

"I can't. Not yet" I pause, "Leave the food at the door please"

"As you wish." They say defeated.

My possessed body begins to walk to the mirror and I look at myself. I look like me, my face looks like mine, and my hair is still white but not in braids, just brushed out. I open my robe and begin to rub my stomach; I am very much pregnant, like any day now this baby could be making its dramatic exit.

"Millaenyia, my sweet child, I'll bring him back to us," this unrecognizable voice says

Oh my god, am I in my mother's body... Ew I'm pregnant with myself

I--My mother begins to walk to the empty space in the room and removes the carpeting on the floor exposing circular sigils on the ground.

Witches marks...

She sits cross-legged in the middle of the circle holding her hands out right on each knee. I now realize her fingertips are black. My mother begins to chant,

Darkhold I summon thee

Make yourself seen

And come to me

The Darkhold appeared floating between her hands; it was exuding a black aura causing a sense of panic in my soul. This is dark forbidden magic.

"Show me the resurrections spell." She commands

The book begins to flip to the requested incantation.

My mother begins to speak, "Those who seek the loved ones lost must offer something to pay the cost. Speak your offer and recite the spell from which you'll be taken straight to hell."

Before continuing, she sits there for a long time contemplating her next move, "I have to do this" she begins to cry, "I have to"

Recollecting herself she breathes in and speaks, "I offer my power"

The air in the room goes cold and with a rush of wind, a demonic voice speaks, "I accept. Proceed"

My mother begins the spell,

Hands vermillion

Star of five

Bright Cotillion

Raven's dive

Nightshades Promise

Spirit's strive, to the living

Let now the dead come alive.

Suddenly we are engulfed in flames, I can't see the room anymore, only fire. The floor begins to rumble under us. My mother quickly hides the book in her robes and holds on to her stomach bracing herself until everything stopped. The floor stopped moving and the fire slowly disappeared around us. Looking around, we see nothing but a man sitting on a throne. He wore a black suit but was barefoot. He had a face but I could not quite place any of his features; it was like his face was a blur

Why can't I see his face?

There were no windows, no doors, no furniture, nothing. The room was completely empty other than us and the man.

"So it's you seeking help?" he speaks "Queen Ororo eh? What would your ancestors think of you willingly giving up your gifts... for some man?"

"He wasn't some man. Takes my powers I don't care, I just want my family back."

He chuckles, "So be it." He holds his hand out towards us and begins to take what felt like the life from my mother's body. As he does this I can see her hair start to change to black and her black fingertips begin to go back to normal. Once he was done he dropped his hand, "Delicious." He says "Your prize is there." Nodding his head behind us.

The Vibe:

Donny Hathaway - A Song For You

We turn and see a man standing there; he was wearing a version of the Black Panther suit.

Is that my dad?

He speaks up, "My love where are we? You're pregnant?" he pauses, "I can't be here, I died." He panics

My mother rushes to him and hugs him, "My love." She puts his hand to her belly, "this is our daughter. I wanted to tell you that day but it was too late."

"My daughter?" He smiles but it quickly fades, "What have you done? I should not be here. This is not right."

Before my mother responds she folds over In pain, "the baby is coming" she panics "We must go." She turns around and looks at the mysterious man, "send us home."

He laughs, "I think not." and points to my father, "He's not looking so good."

My father begins to cough and fall to the ground, "what's happening to me?"

My mother rushes to hold him on his way down. Just a minute ago my father looked no more than 35 years old, but now he's wrinkled up and small like an old man. He's aging right before our eyes.

He's dying

"I love yo-" my father's last words before he turned to dust in my mother's arms.

My mother screamed until she could no more; it was both out of emotional pain and pain from her womb.

I think she's about to give birth

"We had a deal!" She yelled with pain and anger in her voice.

"And I delivered; you wanted him alive and I brought him back. However, we did not discuss for how long."

"Bring him back please." She begs "For longer this time"

"What do you have to offer?" he asks

"I have nothing. Please!" She cries in pain

"You have that." He says pointing at her stomach

"My baby? No, she's all I have left."

"That's disappointing" he scoffs, "Well, in that case, you have nothing." He waves his hand and a portal opens "Leave me." With those words, my mother was forcefully flung through the portal and fell hard onto some grass in a forest. She tried to get up but couldn't, the baby was coming, I was coming.

Unable to move anymore my mother began to focus her breathing and push. We were there for what felt like hours screaming and pushing; the pain was excruciating and my mother was profusely bleeding, way more than I think you're supposed to.

Finally, after one long push and screaming her heart out, the baby/me is fully out. Breathing a long sigh of relief she picks me up and lays back with me resting on her chest. I begin to cry and she covers me fully in her robe.

"Hush my child." She whispers "I'm so sorry" She cries and begins to teeth chatter, "It's so cold.."

Oh god, she's dying...

My crying turned into screams at this point all my mother could do was hold me and keep me warm. The light began to slowly fade, and we were losing consciousness, as we close our eyes I hear, "Agatha look I found the baby! Can we keep this one?" the voice said. I don't hear the response but I do feel someone grab the book from my mother's robe, "What have we here little one?" And with that everything goes black.

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I violently regain consciousness, Opening my eyes felt like the hardest thing I have ever done. I try to move but fail, my body is so weak. I try to speak but my throat is hoarse and dry, all I could do was scan the room.

Looking around I realize I'm on the ground and that people are surrounding me. It was my friends,

That's right, we were having brunch

Once again I attempt to speak, putting more power behind my voice, "Why am I on the floor?"

"Oh thank god," Peter says. I hadn't realized he was holding me in his arms, very tightly might I'd add.

"Ki'ichpan, praise the gods," it was Namor holding my hand right by Peter's side.

"What happened to me?" I hoarsely ask

"You went full Max Mayfield on us," Riri says

I laugh at the absurdity

"She's not kidding your eyes rolled back and you went stiff like you were possessed," Shuri speaks up "you stayed that way for 5 min"

Slowly I sit up feeling extreme pain whenever I move. I turn around and look at Peter his face was red and his eyes were puffy. I take my free hand and firmly grab his, "I'm okay." he squeezes my hand. My eyes fall on Namor and he looks just as distraught as Peter, in fact, I look at everyone in the room and they look horrified.

"Guys I'm okay. I swear it." I reassure everyone," What happened?"

"You touched your mother's diary." Ramonda answers, "What did you see child?"

I suddenly remember what just happened to me, " I saw what happened to my parents. I lived it through my mother's eyes" I begin to cry, letting all that emotion finally hit me. Part of me wished that she was alive somewhere looking for me, "Oh god" I weep "She died alone in the woods." I begin to ramble and cry; my breathing became erratic

I think I'm having a panic attack

Things in the room begin to float and fling around; I'm losing control. Ramonda crouches in front of me trying to calm me down, "Breathe my child." she tries to breath with me "What can we do to help you."

I can't answer her, my body won't allow it.

"Milleaynia look at me." I follow that voice, It was Namor "What do you need?" He calmly asks

Between crying and hyperventilating I finally answer, "Sedate me. Please.." I beg

Ramonda looks to Shuri, " Grab your med kit."

"No need," Okoye speaks as she walks over to me. "You're gonna feel a pinch." She then pinches the pressure point in my neck effectively knocking me out.

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lostforgottenspaces · 1 year

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Two Hearts

word count: 1266

“So you don’t want this anymore.”

It was a bright sunny day. James, Sirius and Regulus were chasing each other around the quidditch pitch on their brooms. Lily and Remus were occasionally throwing things at them when they came close. Mary and Peter had made a picnic and were arguing over what order they should eat the food. Off in the distance, Evan was laughing at Barty stuck in a tree.

The cheerful summer day seemed oblivious of Marlene and Dorcas hidden in a nook.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well, that’s what it sounds like.” Marlene crossed her arms over her chest and took a step back from Dorcas.

Dorcas stepped back in front of her as if Marlene was acting irrationally. “I said that I can’t do this, not that I don’t want to.”

“So what changed then, as far as I’m aware you were fine with this yesterday when we were making out.” What Dorcas had said came out of the blue. The last thing Marlene had expected when Dorcas brought her over was… this. Maybe she was getting angry, but she’d be caught off guard and was so scared that she was going to lose Dorcas. So yeah, all rational thoughts had gone out the window.

“I was- I am, but Marlene it’s nearly the end of our last year. You’ve heard the talk, right? Of Voldemort and his plans and the murders and Death Eaters and all that? Things aren’t going to be safe out there and it’s going to be so much harder than Hogwarts.” Dorcas clenched her jaw. Marlene didn’t get it.

"So? I'm gonna fight Cas, Dumbledore has a resistance and plans to fight Voldemort when the time comes. They're out there saving people and finding Death Eaters, so that's what I'll do too." It was her duty. She wanted to protect her friends and loved ones and she could do that by helping kill this asshole psychopath. What didn't Dorcas understand? "We can do it together you know, it's not some 'Gryffindor only' thing, we need all the help we can get."

Dorcas' eyes suddenly filled with tears and her grip on her satchel tightened. "But I can't Marls, that's the problem, I can't just join Dumbledore and fight for-"

"Well, why not?" Marlene demanded, cutting her off. "There's no secret initiation test you need to pass, you don't need fucking credentials or something its just-"

"BECAUSE OF MY FUCKING PARENTS MARLENE!" Everything seemed to go dead quiet at that. Dorcas hastily wiped her eyes with her palm. "Because both of them have joined him and they expect me to as well. So many of our parents have. Mine, Reg's, Evan's. Most of the Slytherins are planning to join him, either because their families have, or that's how they were raised. They don't have options. And neither do I."

"But why do they have to tell you what to do! You don't want to join him so how could they make you? You're your own person they can't control you or-"

"Yes, They Can! They can and they will. Marlene, my parents are shitty people and I am their only child. I am expected to follow them and uphold the family name. If I don't there will be consequences." Both girls were frustrated and on edge. Marlene's brain was moving at a million miles an hour trying to process what the fuck was going on, and Dorcas was about to punch something.

They seemed to be in their own world of torment. Their friends were oblivious, still causing mayhem in the distance. Peter and Mary had finally made up their minds and were handing out little plates to Lily, Regulus and Remus. While James and Sirius had also gotten stuck in the tree trying to get Barty down. Evan was lying on the ground below them but that was likely because he was laughing so much. Marlene was wondering how long it would take them to figure out that Evan had put a sticking charm on the tree and there was a simple incantation to reverse it.

She might've laughed if she wasn't so pissed, upset and confused. "Okay but like what kind of consequences? Can we help? Is it like banning you from quidditch? Kicking you out? Cutting off your allowance? Grounding you?"

"It's unforgivable curses Marlene," Dorcas snapped. While her family was not the only one that used... old-fashioned methods, it was not something she tended to mention. Marlene's jaw dropped and she went pale. Dorcas laughed bitterly. "Yes, if I don't follow all their orders, or maintain our perfect image, or sell my fucking soul to Voldemort, then they will make me. My parents will use the Crutiatus curse until I am begging to join Voldemort. Plan A fails? Well, Imperio is Plan B. And if for some reason, after all that, I'm still not the perfect daughter, They Will Kill Me. So no, I have no other option. You may have Pureblood parents Marlene but you do not have Pureblood supremacist parents."

"Merlin, Cas, I-"

"Yeah, you didn't know. I know." Dorcas looked away, watching their friends enjoy the sun. "I shouldn't have expected you to understand."

"So there's nothing we can do, nothing I can do, to help you? The Unforgivable Curses are illegal, they shouldn't be allowed to treat you like that."

"Neither should Regulus and Sirius' parents, neither should Evan's dad or Barty's dad, but we don't get a say in that."

For a moment they just stood in silence. Not sure what to do. Not sure what to say. They were learning that the world was not kind; life was not fair. Marlene was on the verge of tears. Dorcas was hurting and there was nothing she could do to help. She was going to lose her. It was like watching sand fall between her fingers and realising she'd never be able to stop it. This was it. There was no waking up and realising it was a dream; no miracle solution falling into her lap. It wasn't like in books and movies, where everything works out and they all live happily ever after. She was going to lose Dorcas. The mere thought shattered her heart.

"I-," Marlene turned back towards her girlfriend, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "I really, love you, you know that right?"

Dorcas squeezed her eyes together. "Yeah, I know," she whispered. "I love you too."

Marlene stared into Dorcas' eyes and saw the pain and fear hidden behind the topaz. She started crying harder, reaching out for Dorcas' hands.

Dorcas held them with equal force. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just- I can't do this anymore. Knowing that it's never going to work. Tricking myself into thinking I have a future with you. It hurts too much-"

Cutting herself off, she screwed her face up in pain and sorrow, desperately trying to hold herself together.

"Waking up beside you in the mornings," Dorcas said, her voice cracking. "Waking up beside you, with your arms wrapped around me. Makes me feel like we could do that every day for the rest of our lives."

Marlene's grip on Dorcas' hands tightened and she looked up at her through her tears. I love you she whispered I love you, I love you, I love you. She knew it wasn't going to make any difference. Dorcas pulled her into a hug, and they clung to each other, wishing they could stay like that forever. Fused into one another. Unable to be separated. Two hearts beating as one.

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hollowed-polaris · 7 months

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A True F®iend

As I had expected, he was a creature straight from my nightmares, the ones that haunted me since my childhood. But their dread wasn’t even closer to the one when my mother sent me to the so-called “sacrifice for salvation”. Mom always said I was special, chosen by God for a glorious purpose. And I’d finally meet Dad, the hero she always spoke of, in a place beyond the stars, the so-called “Heaven” of hers.

Twelve. I was just twelve. I guess the selfishness would have made them even sacrifice a child for their sake. But when my mother was dragging me to the bonfire and the flames crackled, casting long shadows that danced like demons on the walls, Unlike the other kids, I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t terrified. I was exited for once. I wanted it to go faster. Then their chanting started, in a forgotten language that sent shivers down my spine but mom, her eyes blazed, her voice rising with each word. The others watched, their faces paled and bleached. Shame flickered in their eyes, a silent apology I couldn’t understand then. The fire roared, and a monstrous figure emerged from the flames. It wasn’t the angel I pictured, but a creature of hell. Panic clawed at my throat, but my mom’s hand shoved me forward.

“Take him!” she screamed, her voice laced with something darker than the awoken demon. “Take him and grant me salvation! Grant me powers! Give me beauty! Give me a long life! Oh Lord; thou shalt bestow the faithful servant of yours!”

The world around me blurred. Claws sunk into my flesh, searing pain ripping through me. My screams were lost in the inferno, my mother’s laughter echoing in my ears. Then, darkness. Oh, the darkness… I asked the demon who was taking me,

“Am I going to heaven? Am I going to meet my father? Am I going to be salivated?”

The creature let out a chilling laugh. “Salvation? No, child. But a powerful offering, that you are. Thou shalt be granted to the lord of the demons as a sacrifice.”

When I woke, I wasn’t a boy anymore. I was something…else. The truth settled on me like a shroud – I wasn’t going to heaven. Mom hadn’t saved me; she’d damned me. I was a sacrifice, offered not to God, but to a demon. A demon born from her lies and a love that burned hotter than any fire.

When the sulfurous stench was choking me, when the thick smoke was clinging to my lungs like a vengeful spirit. I couldn’t then understand why my mother was screaming the forbidden incantations. Which I was always forsaken to say. I once saw them written in her diary, which I thought were just ‘bad words’ and she forbade me to even ever talk about them. And I never gave them a second thought after that. But now, I was just too mesmerized by my dreams of meeting my father. The world around me was just a macabre canvas painted in shades of crimson and black. Now I knew why… The fact is, that demons not only reside in hell, but on earth too. In the shape of people. I am one myself or have become one from the “sacrificing ritual” I was subjected to. I was a blank, a nondescriptive ‘feeling less’ being.

And now here I was, standing deceived, told that fires and flames were waiting for me, Not my father. But an eternal kiss of death, or a fate even worse than death, for which I wasn’t ever told. I can see the bonfire roaring, and a pyre of desperation, fueled by my mother’s fervent chanting, now it’s echoing in my ears, and I can’t stop the salty drops from trickling down my cheeks. They aren’t even salty anymore. They too, have left me hanging, to my fate that was about to come. I don’t even know how you can even cry after what the demon told me and how shocked I was just. They say that “you can’t cry while in shock”. Again humans, lying… it is in nature

I was taken to a grand mansion, engulfed in fires and smoke. The demon who brought me here was banished here before me, now stood a hulking figure, its form shifting like smoke, revealing glimpses of obsidian skin, horns that pierced the inky sky, and eyes that glowed like embers. Yet, instead of the fiery torment I was expecting, he extended a clawed hand.

“Welcome, child,” his voice rumbled, an avalanche of sound that shook the very ground. “Don’t fear. You were not meant for the flames of the damned, but for a different kind of fire.”

Hesitant, I approached, the ground littered with bones, both human and monstrous. The demon knelt, his bulk dwarfing me. My gaze darted, searching for the familiar kindness of a human face, finding only the cruel glint of his eyes.

“What do you want?” I whispered, my voice barely audible amidst the desolate landscape.

“A child,” he rumbled, his voice surprisingly gentle. “One I can call my own.”

Confusion was contorting my features. A demon, wanting a child? This concept was as bizarre as it was terrifying. He saw my terror and, with a sigh that rattled the very bones of my body, tapped my forehead. It felt numb and surprisingly loving. Like the hand of a loving parent. And I traveled into my memories. I saw myself, years younger, sitting back at the dinner table, my mother’s touch missing my cheek for the first time since my father’s passing. She had grown distant, consumed by the cult that promised her powers. In the memory, the demon, a wisp of shadow in the corner, watched me with a flicker of sympathy in his burning eyes.

“I saw the loneliness in your heart, son” he explained, “the hollowness left by a mother consumed by shadows. I wished to offer you another path, a life beyond the clutches of oblivion.”

The truth, as bizarre as it sounded, also resonated with me. My mother, blinded by her zealotry, had slashed my fate to be worse than death. Yet, this demon, this creature of infernal fire, is offering me a twisted form of hope.

Hesitantly, I reached out, my small, trembling hand, and the demon’s massive clawed fingers engulfed it. It was surprisingly warm, not the chilling touch I had imagined. A flicker of a smile crossed his monstrous face.

“Welcome, my child,” he rumbled once more, the sound softer this time, almost welcoming. “To your new home and a family forged in the fires of the Underworld.” And he kissed my cheeks. I wasn’t kissed for so long. And this kind of a meaningless act made me forget everything cruel that happened to me. And I cried and cried in his arms for a while.

Days turned to months, the green twilight painting my memories with a melancholic hue. The demon, whom I came to call ‘Zayn’, became my fatherly figure, an unexpected source of warmth and guidance in this desolate realm. He taught me the language of the damned, the lore of this infernal world, and the skills needed to survive amongst the monstrous denizens. I learned to control the shadows, my grief and rage weaving into tendrils of darkness that danced to my command. I honed my reflexes, learning to wield the obsidian blade he gifted me, its edge imbued with the very essence of his own demonic power.

Though I missed the warmth of the sun and the gentle touch of human skin, I found a twisted sense of belonging under Zayn’s tutelage. He instilled in me a sense of purpose, a reason to exist beyond the pyre of my sacrifice.

One day, I looked into his eyes, those burning embers that had once filled me with terror, now holding a flicker of warmth.

“I went home yesterday, to the earth. I saw the portal behind the trenches.”

I whispered, the words tasting foreign on my tongue. He listened patiently as I recounted my journey, the sights, the smells, the overwhelming sense of belonging and alienation that washed over me in the human world, of the hollowed-out journey. When I finished, a heavy silence descended upon us.

“Do you wish to return, son?” he finally asked, his voice laced with a hint of trepidation.

I shook my head, the decision forming within me. “No,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “This is where I now belong, with you.”

Zayn smiled, though small and fleeting, it was the most genuine expression I had ever seen on his monstrous face. He pulled me into a hug, his immense form dwarfing mine. At that moment, under the sickly green sky of the Underworld, I found a solace I never thought possible, a family forged in the fires of hell.

The end

#story #writing #writers on tumblr

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thedaybeforelastwrites · 1 year

Text

An impossible point in the universe | reylo

Summary: Rated MA. Rey gives into her connection with Kylo Ren — a oneshot that takes place in the time between TLJ and TROS. (But also— bond shenanigans lead to confronting unresolved sexual tension but does nothing to help with unresolved emotional tension — a bit of angst-my fav) Word Count: 3102 Author's note: Back after many years with my first story in a the star wars fandom even though TROS came out over 3 years ago. *shrugs* I don't understand me either. ____________________________________

Rey lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, exhausted beyond measure, wondering why it keeps happening because she can't seem to figure it out and she doesn't know how much longer she can shut Kylo Ren out.

Snoke had said that he was the one linking them through the force. He had said that it was all a part of his scheme, his machinations, his plans—one that ultimately led to his end—but his nonetheless. So why was it that she was still sensing Ben—no, Kylo Ren, she reminds herself for the thousandth time because Ben was who she wanted him to be but Kylo Ren was who he'd chosen—at the corner of her mind? Why was there this constant ache, growing stronger day by day, from resisting giving into their bond?

It's a knock in her head that had started out demure like the tap of a knuckle and had gradually persisted until it felt like someone was banging and kicking on a locked door inside her skull. And the strangest part is that she can tell that Kylo himself has been fighting it too.

She wonders if he is as exhausted as she is.

She wonders how long it will be until one of them gives in.

It hadn't hit her the first time it happened after Snoke's incredibly satisfying demise. When Kylo was looking up at her, not nearly as angry as she'd thought he'd look after she'd refused him. In fact, the confusion and hurt hit her the hardest, and maybe she had even sensed a hint of hopefulness left over right before she'd closed the hatch and taken off with the resistance.

He had betrayed everything that they'd been building, asking what he had of her. Rey thinks about that moment so often, his pleading tone— because please had never sounded like an incantation before and she doubts ever will again— and how his hand was outstretched as if only Rey's grasp held his absolution. As if, though he could never forgive himself—'I am a monster, he'd said'—if she could, if she could just grab on to him then everything would be right.

She thinks about how for a moment she'd actually considered it—not joining him to rule while they watched the universe burn in their wake as he'd have allowed but just... joining him, just him and how intense the urge had been, how horrible and terrifying, and how she'd longed—ached—for someone who wanted all of her, needed her.

She wasn't important to Ben because he needed her for what she could do—he could do it too, just as well, or even better, their meetings had made it hard to tell—Ben needed Rey not in spite of, but even more so, for the worst parts of her, for all the brokenness, the self-doubt, and the invisible marks her loneliness had etched into her soul, marks that matched his. It was why he did not seem to care or even remember that scar she had left on him, because really, what's one more?

And it was always so incredibly hard for Rey to feel wanted with that clawing, nagging, reminder in the back of her head that she was born into this world lacking that one essential feeling—love— from the people who should have felt it for her most.

Everything goes quiet, light and darkness—and the entirety of the force— begins to fill her up and she braces herself for what she knows is about to happen because she just can't push back against it anymore.

But some things are harder to brace for than others.

Rey turns her head to the side and millions of lightyears away and also right in front of her, Kylo Ren is, like she is, lying in bed. Only, their bond makes it feel as if he is right beside her, just inches away and it is the closest that they've been since they'd touched, the fire-light flickering between them, but everything is so different now. Everything has been destroyed. And it would seem, that while they had both been fighting it, the bond between them had only grown stronger.

She can feel his sharp inhale as if stolen from her lungs.

And it is aggravating because it would have been hard enough to ignore him from across a room. Like this, she can count the moles and freckles on his cheeks— if she wants.

"Did it hurt you too?" he asks, and there is a hint of an emotion in his tone that she doesn't wish to place.

Same as he had the first time the force linked them like this, he has spoken first. Rey looks away, trying not to linger on how his brown eyes still look as oddly open to her as she remembers, as though once he had let her in, he could no longer reverse what he'd done.

"That's the only reason I'm allowing this right now," she responds, trying to muster up the same amount of anger she'd felt six months ago but it had all ebbed away, leaving only disappointment (and a feeling of true loneliness) in its wake.

In fact, she has to actively try to ignore the relief that's filling her at seeing him again.

"Where are you?"

The question nearly makes her laugh. Her eyebrows furrow, "Why would I ever tell you that?"

Rey could never put her faith in him again. He was the enemy now. And yet, there's a weird realization that comes along with that thought because he had always been the enemy hadn't he—but just… not always to her. Along the way she had forgotten.

The expression on his face is unreadable and he doesn't answer her. Instead, he looks away, at whatever ceiling it is that he rests under.

They are silent for a long time, laying in bed together, and it is both the most comfortable and most uneasy Rey has been in months.

"Do you want to know what I can't stop thinking about?" he suddenly says, his deep voice so close to a whisper that she barely hears it. He doesn't wait for her to say yes. "I keep thinking, if Snoke created this link, then it should be gone. But since it isn't," and he turns his head to look at her again, his eyes roaming her face as if making sure of the truth of their bond, that she is near, "This must be something else."

His words start her heart racing because hadn't she just been thinking the same, right before giving in to this? There must be a reason why they keep getting pulled towards each other, why it literally hurts to avoid this thing they have.

There has been a link, a magnetism between them from the moment she'd first laid eyes on his fully masked form, on Kylo Ren, deep in the forest. She can remember the fear then like a dream, a fear that had changed and morphed into something else as in every moment since she had gotten closer to Ben, the core of him.

Getting to know Ben, had been like staring into a mirror. She had known it in her soul that Kylo Ren had just as much of a chance of coming back to himself, a Ben so much like her, as she had of becoming like him and from that point on there had been no fear, just understanding, and hope, and the lure of being right on the precipice of something great, the desire to give in to that deep, unmistakable bond. And they had both reached for it.

Even as she thinks it, Ben's eyes slip from her eyes to her lips and back up again, and her stomach flips. Has he come to the same conclusion as she has? The same conclusion she doesn't let herself think. They are the same, two sides of the same coin, two parts of a whole. Fated to be.

Her throat goes dry and quickly she breaks the look between them, being the one to stare away this time. She breathes heavily through her nose as she tries to calm her nerves. She can feel his gaze still on her and her face has gone hot, her entire body has gone hot and as if the thought of her own body spurs his into action, he turns on his side—her bed and blankets shifting against her too hot skin with his weight— to face her fully.

Even now there is that desire to let him in, to be truly seen by someone, to be…

"I didn't give in because of the pain," he says, and with his admission his voice has dropped an octave, "I'm accustomed to pain. I gave in because I've passed the point of wanting you."

Her traitorous heart skips a beat.

Rey closes her eyes as the intimacy of laying in bed together fully hits her. She can't speak and if Rey is being honest, she doesn't trust herself to respond to what he's said. If she's being honest, she should have gotten out of the bed as soon as they'd connected but she hadn't done that had she? Either way, he hasn't finished talking so it turns out she does not have to respond.

"Ever since we touched, it is the only thing I've been able to think about, to dream about. I've imagined what might have happened if Luke hadn't discovered us. I've imagined, lacing our fingers together, bringing you close. I've imagined…" and he stops, a heavy breath leaving him, "It's been driving me insane."

It's like they're living the same life because it's been haunting her too, invading her thoughts. That small touch had changed something and it could never go back to the way it was before. She had never been closer to someone than she had in that moment, never felt so seen, never felt so right.

Rey's breathing hard and though it's against her best judgment she turns back to look at him. His eyes have always been where his emotions show the clearest, but this time—and the knot in her stomach tightens—the longing is not only there, it's plainly written all over his face.

She can almost hear it again—the begging, the please— and she'd been strong enough to not give into him once… shouldn't that count for something?

Shouldn't it?

It is almost as if she's merely watching herself do it, completely out of control, as she turns towards him and reaches out. He reacts immediately. It must be the invitation that he's been waiting for because suddenly he has met her halfway.

And while first, their reaching hands do in fact lace together, grabbing on tightly, it is not much longer before those laced hands are pressed into the pillow beside Rey's head as Kylo Ren hovers over her.

They pause, staring at each other and unbidden Rey can't help but to ponder about the mechanics of their bond. To her, he is in her room—Fin, and Poe, and everyone else just down the corridor but to him, she must be laying in his bed surrounded by The First Order that he leads now.

It is ridiculous. It should matter, it really should, but as she stares up at him nothing could matter any more than this impossible point in the Universe that they have created.

They start moving again, and now their hands glide across each other, roam, and feel, and caress with a desperation that could only come from avoiding this for the last half year.

And god, his arms, and his chest and his stomach are all just as hard to the touch as Rey had dreamed of, taut from his likely obsessive training and his terrible misdeeds.

She only gives those truths a second before pushing them forcefully aside because it is his mouth, when finally they have touched enough, that is the surprise as his soft lips meet hers and his talented tongue force all thoughts beyond his body, and her body, and how right this feels, from her mind.

Rey can't say that it is a surprise but he is unapologetic about his need. Everything he does, he does fully. As he kisses her, he pushes his fingers into her hair, pulls her closer. When he grabs her waist, his hands are rough and greedy. When she presses herself against him, he rolls his hips hard against her in return, and it is enough to make her gasp.

He wants her so badly, and that feeling of being someone's World is all Rey has ever wanted. And she knows, because they are the same, just given different choices at different times, that he needs to be seen just as much as she does. That he needs to be understood and loved.

And she does love him—just not unconditionally because Rey cannot love Kylo Ren. She can't love him through all of the things that he's done—she can't even let herself think about them for too long, but she can love Ben and hope that he will finally win the war going on inside the body they share.

She tries with all of her to get her own message through, angling her mouth against his, deepening their kiss, 'Please' she thinks and hopes he can taste it, 'please turn Ben.'

When they finally break apart, they are both dazed and lightheaded. She places his hands beneath her shirt and responds by undressing her quickly— as if he is sure that at any moment she might disappear— while she takes her time with him, though he is only covered from the waist down anyway. He looks like he enjoys it nearly as much as she does.

And then she places a palm against his chest, pushing him away from her.

The fear that takes over his expression, breaks her heart but she keeps pushing until she has changed their positions and pushed him down on the bed. And when she climbs on top of him—he is so much bigger than her—she kisses him deeply until the fear fully ebbs away.

She is not going anywhere, not now, not yet.

His gasp against her mouth is the most alluring thing she's ever heard, as she sinks on to him. And when finally she has all of him, is full to the brim, he grabs her hips halting her, as if memorizing the feeling.

"I love you Rey," he says and she is not sure if it is Kylo Ren or Ben or both speaking.

"I know," she says, with a small smile because it's all that she can give them. It is only Ben that she is willing to give her heart to but she can give into this.

Experimentally, Rey rolls her hips and the strangled groan that Kylo Ren releases nearly undoes her.

He is a wreck and they have just barely begun. It makes her feel powerful in a way that even the force has never made her feel and so she does it again, and again, savoring the look of him—hair fanned away from his face, eyes half-lidded and watching, mouth agape—and the feel of him—thick and hard where she needs him most, rough hands gripping her thighs.

And for a while, he seems content to let her be in complete control, let her ride him into oblivion but when Rey starts to get close, it's like he can sense it and in turn she can sense the urgency in him.

His hips begin to rise to meet her own, his thumb finds its rightful place between her legs, and the beat of his heart, already erratic beneath her palms, quickens in pace.

He says her name like a plea and surges up to drag his mouth over her mouth, her neck, her chest, moaning into her skin. She can feel him everywhere, even the places he's not physically touching. It's hard to explain. It must be the bond, but the feeling is overwhelming. And the arm that's not attached to the thumb rubbing quick, frantic circles against her, latches around her waist urging her to move faster.

Suddenly, it strikes her just how badly he wants to be the reason, wants to be the one capable of making her lose herself, pushing her over the edge. How badly he needs it and it is that thought that gets her there, the pressure inside bursting to release.

The noise she makes as she clenches and throbs around him is loud and it isn't until she feels her back pressed into the bed—he has changed their position— and his hand gently covering her mouth, muffling the sound, that she remembers all the others nearby—Fin, and Poe, and Rose, and the entire resistance —that might have heard her, not that she can bring herself to care as this spot in the universe they've created shrinks down into a point of pure pleasure.

And he keeps going, somehow managing to angle his hips just right, his large body pressing down on her own, drawing out her orgasm until she is tensing again and rolling into another one. She shakes beneath him, a warm, tingling glow spreading through her just as he groans out his own release, hips jerking out of rhythm until finally he stops.

The two of them stay like that, catching their breath between fevered kisses, wrapped up in each other. And he stays inside her even as he softens, even as the sweat on their skin starts to go cold.

And they are satisfied, fully, in one sense of the word, but in another, perhaps more important sense, they are not satisfied at all.

It is a quieting realization and in the silence all the ways that this was not everything that they needed become harder and harder to ignore… until finally, he disentangles from her, rolling to lay on his back—still close enough to touch but not so close that they aren't both aware that their time is near its end.

Rey stares up at the ceiling, holding back tears. "I love you Ben," she whispers, heart clenching, because it's true and because the silence has become deafening.

She doesn't turn to him but feels his heavy gaze as he looks at her, his eyes roaming over the profile of her face, taking her in as if committing whatever it is that he sees to memory.

"I know," Kylo Ren finally answers.

So Rey turns away from the force and their connection, and is alone.

#reylo #rey x kylo ren #rey x ben #star wars fanfic #my fanfiction #my ff #ff #omg i'm back #writing fanfic #what's happening #it's been so long

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lantsovsupremacist · 3 years

Text

nikolai lantsov: currents

warnings: nikolai lantsov being the best man ever wouldn’t you know 🙄☝️

spoilers: set during king of scars but no major spoilers!!!

you looked up from the paperwork strewn about the desk situated in a far corner of the war room. tucked away here, you would never be the first target. some might call it paranoia or chalk it up to the trauma of the civil war, but you simply preferred a spot to observe quietly in the shadows.

toyla and tamar followed the king inside, nodding at zoya, genya, and david surrounding you.

“oh. it’s you. it’s all of you. i...” the man, or more likely boy, who skittered into the room spoke in a squeaky tone, “an absolute honor. a dream, really.”

briefly meeting nikolai’s eyes as he turned around from shutting the door behind him, you transferred your line of sight to the figure now bowing at your feet. zoya scoffed, eyes rolling to the heavens. genya and david shared a cohesive frown.

dropping the pen from your hand, you pushed your hair over your shoulders and straightened. you listened thoughtfully as he gave an introduction to each of your fellow grisha, recounting his apparent conclusions of them. when he treaded the sparkling waters that were genya, your face began to drop into anger.

“the first tailor, who bears the marks of the darkling’s blessing.”

her flinch did not go unnoticed by you. and as the only one whose temper rivaled yours kept hers in check, you failed to. the pressure immediately began to decrease in the room and the air dry of any moisture. nikolai’s head whipped up, perhaps the one most familiar with your temperament (other than zoya in your shared youth—never happy to be on the receiving end of a soaked kefta in class).

his hands flew up, taking a step towards you, bartering with any position he could gain. your fierce protection over genya was not unknown to those close to you, a flaw in the monk’s faulty perception. you let your shoulders fall, calming any potential downpour.

if yuri noticed your show of power, he made no move to address it, “ravka’s most powerful tide maker. oh the stories of how the darkling sanctioned you with the power to drown men on land.”

you froze but not because of a lie. his words were all true. the darkling hand selected you for this special training at age eleven. you allowed the legend to transpire, protecting you much like kaz brekker, dirtyhands of ketterdam. this was not a lore you would repeat with starry eyes and dreams of an otherworldly fantasy. none of the lives you had been forced to take before jumping ship to join sturmhond during the civil war could be washed away.

for all of your hard edges and brutal words, there were chinks in your armor that could not be hidden. tamar and toyla brought a hand to their weapons in startling unison. zoya’s eyes called out for yours.

nikolai’s features immediately darkened, an eclipse shadowing the usual light in his eyes. he rose from his chair slowly, exhibiting all of the power that he had inherited.

the shameless monk managed to hold himself upright but the unchecked tremble of his fingers exposed the fear instilled by the king’s actions.

“if i ever hear of her name—any of their names—leaving your mouth again,” nikolai began, his words sharper than the edge of his sword, “for any purpose in any country,” nikolai paused to watch yuri shrink under his steady gaze, “there will be nothing left for your believers to mourn into martyrdom.”

you held your chin high, your eyes twin daggers poised to launch across the room and eagerly embed themselves in a target. the ire in your chest began to subside upon witnessing yuri’s response to your boyfriend’s threats, only to be readily replaced by a flush of desire as his hazel eyes sharpened.

breaking eye contact with the monk who could not decide where to offer his, you glanced about the room. zoya had steeled herself beside you, radiating enough anger to address each of yuri’s mislead and misspoken opinions. even david’s face appeared from behind the book in his hands, though he kept his page by leaving it open to rest on his lap.

“am i correct in my assumption that you have heard me clearly,” nikolai’s voice carried across the walls, not quite commanding any longer but instead demanding the attention of those stood inside.

“y-yes your highness,” yuri stumbled out weakly as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his wiry nose.

after finishing up matters with your friends, nikolai took off out of the room, glancing back to make sure you intended to follow. you fell in step behind him, remaining quiet until you reached the stairs leading up to his chambers.

“i could have handled him, you know,” you pressed nikolai, hands repeatedly flexing and unflexing as they brushed against the sides of your blue kefta. your tone held no anger, simply indicating a truth.

nikolai drummed his fingers against the railing, pausing before turning back to face you, “of course you could have, love, but where’s the fun in that for me?”

you appreciated his willingness to defend your honor but the playfulness in his tone felt forced. he did not even make an attempt at his trademark smile imbued by charm and confidence. you decided in that moment that you would do to see it’s safe return.

“nik,” you spoke, repeating yourself after the absence of an answer, “nik.” your hand finding its way into his own hanging limply at his side.

“do you really see yourself in that way?” his voice shook, nearly choking on his final words.

any time the topic was brought up, nikolai was reminded of your stance. you had broken down to him the night after the darkling fell at the hands of alina starkov. no matter any of your friend’s persuasion, you stood firm in your position. you deserved to pay for the harm you inflicted on so many innocent. you were a monster, one who had given in to being handcrafted by another.

the untroubled nature with which he typically carried himself had vanished. your own expression faltered. his particular kind of magic, knowing smirks and careful quips that were like incantations for smiles, vanished.

and while it was normal for nikolai to drop the facade of a charming king around you, the pain held in his eyes plummeted your heart into your stomach.

“i think i did once,” you replied airily, not wasting your breath on a lie that nikolai could surely detect before the sound waves settled, “right after the war ended.”

nikolai chewed on the inside of his cheek anxiously, “but you’ve intentionally chosen past tense to describe these feelings.”

“yes,” you nodded, drawing your lover closer to you by the lapels of his jacket, “always so observant. it’s only of the many things i admire about you.”

nikolai sighed, closing his eyes and letting his blonde curls fall upon your forehead. you brought a hand up to stroke his cheekbone, soaking in the warmth of his skin pressed up against own.

“your strength,” nikolai said after a moment, drawing a hand to your waist, “your perseverance.”

“hmm?” you hummed quietly in question, content to reside with him inside this moment only belonging to the two of you.

“qualities i admire in you, my love,” he smiled after a moment, not entirely to be described as filled with confidence but surety nonetheless.

the flush of color in your cheeks always reminded nikolai of the pink dahlias planted in his favorite corner of the garden. maybe it was because it was where he had first kissed you. he decided that was probably his reason, although he never needed one to justify the beauty of either the memory or girl in front of him now.

too caught up in the memory, nikolai’s lips dipped to yours. you could always grasp a lingering taste of saltwater no matter how far away he was from sea, how many weeks removed. it reminded you of home. it was home.

“i love that you protect me, sobachka” you whispered against his lips, down his jaw and neck.

you did not need the exaggerated tales of your terrifying capabilities to destroy to wear as armor anymore, for you had the best man you had ever known to guard you.

as his hand wove into your hair and the other spiraling lower down your back, your breath hitched in your throat when he answered, “i can do so much more than that, my sea.”

nikolai settled on a simple quip, something guaranteed to make you smile. as a boy, he dreamed of a girl who would laugh at all of his jokes. when he grew, he figured many would be forged, a fallacy to fall in good graces with the king. he had yet to detect a lie within the giggles that left your lips.

the golden haired king would do anything to see you smile. he would pour hours into chasing perfection for you. once, he had even allowed toyla to confer with him about romantic poetry. despite the recitation being quite dreadful, you had laughed the most you had in a long time that day. now, just to catch up with the smallest piece of that magic again, he brought a new poem to you each night.

“i thought that i had seen the most gorgeous sights as sturmhond,” he began, unable to help biting his lip at your smallest quirk of a smile, “the volkvolny showed me how to fall in love with the endless waves at sea.”

you sucked in a breath, immersed in the way he spoke so intentionally. he was entrancing. you loved to hear about his travels before you met him, immersed in his storytelling.

“but none of them were every as beautiful as the ones you make,” he finished with a grin.

instead of reaching up to smack him at the cliche, you ignored your first reaction and instead pulled him closer to you. with your hands tucked against the back of his neck, you allowed your thumb to ruffle his lose and unruly curls. here, he was soft and gentle, untouched by his role.

“our ship had four other tidemakers,” you voiced softly, recalling your betrayal of the darkling after sturmhond’s crew imposed a mutiny, “but you chose me to lead the crew. you told me that was because i was the most powerful, but i certainly wasn’t with the waves. my power was not as practiced with currents.”

“but they were the prettiest,” he chuckled with puppy dog eyes honoring his nickname.

you gaped at this confession, “are you telling me you picked me as a leader during a war because the waves i created were pretty?” the initial seriousness in your tone melted away with every breath.

“i remember calling them the prettiest,” he twisted your hips, swaying you with him, “didn’t help me that the girl that could make them was the most gorgeous one i had ever seen. darling, i’m a prince, so i will inform you now that i have met a lot of people.”

your laughter was more delicate now, trailing off as you found direction in his eyes, “i had not been trusted with currents in years,” your voice softened, “he wanted my power elsewhere. i hated all of it. do you know the only memory i have of my parents is my father guiding the currents with me while we fished outside of town as a child? i was so excited to create like that with my power but all i did was destroy,” fighting back any moisture building in your eyes, you continued, “you gave me that back, nikolai.”

nikolai felt his heart stir inside his chest. he caught up to one of his most favorite smiles of yours. a rarity it was, reserved for the quietest and most understated moments that you could hardly share due to the both of your occupations and temperaments.

“i love every part of you,” nikolai dictated, “every drop of saltwater in the sea could not compare.”

you repeated the phrase before stilling, “well, now you’ve gone and ruined this with another one of toyla’s fictions.”

“ah, ah,” he tsked, “i made that one up myself, love.”

#nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #storm and siege #rule of wolves #sturmhond #zoya nazyanelsky #shadow and bone fic #nikolai x reader

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glasschampagne · 3 years

Text

Fantasies

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: 1.9 k

Warnings: like one swear word, reader dissociates.

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Harry, and a request by @oyasumimosura I hope it lives up to your imagination love, Y/n is not quite as innocent as you asked, but I hope you still like it.

(Request: Hi, I was wondering if you could do Harry Potter x reader? Where The reader likes Harry but she can’t tell him because (y/n) knows that Harry likes Cho, still (y/n) was a loyal friend to Harry. In the fifth year, Umbridge interrogates (y/n) by torturing her just to reveal what Harry’s been up to. But (y/n) didn’t reveal any causing Umbridge to slap her so hard, (y/n) copes up the pain with her “happy place” where she imagined herself being with Harry at the yule ball and they were happy together. Which, (y/n) is the only one who could last longer when there's tortures.)

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Ever since he had first defeated Voldemort as a baby, Harry Potter had been praised by the entirety of the Wizarding Society.

But after Voldemort had risen from the dead, those praises became threats. Harry was deemed insane. Only a handful of people still believed in him. Only a handful of people were willing to fight for him. And one of those people was Y/N Y/L.

When she met him, both merely first years, she had been impressed by his uncommon sassy attitude. An intense desire to be his friend had bloomed inside her. And she had accomplished that. But then, friendship had turned into the need to grab him by the shirt, kiss him senselessly, and call him hers. She had not accomplished that. And she knew she probably never would.

See, Harry was deeply infatuated by Cho Chang. She was older, smart, and incredibly gorgeous. Her appeal was undeniable. She was also Cedric Diggory´s ex-girlfriend, and there was yet to be a man who could compare to him.

As his friend, Y/N was determined to support Harry through the hardships of unrequited love. Although maybe his affections weren’t so unrequited anymore…

She watched Harry help his beloved cast a Patronus. One hand on her waist, the other softly guiding her hand as they murmured the incantation together. Maybe there was a man who could compete with Diggory’s memory.

“You need to stop torturing yourself like this Y/n/n”

She turned to face her friend, Ron Weasley, brotherly concern plastered all over his face.

Ron had found out about her crush on Harry the previous year. The bloke was much more emotionally intelligent than people credited him for.

“Would you like to duel? Competition always cheers you up” he beamed.

Ron had always succeeded in lifting her spirits. But this time was different. This time, Y/N realized she had really lost Harry.

“I don’t really feel like duelling. But honestly, you’re right” she admitted “I need to stop causing myself more pain. I’ll just take a walk to distract himself”

Ron let her go, nodding softly. He loved Harry like a brother, but he worried his obliviousness would end up shattering Y/N’s very spirit.

She left the Room of Requirements, where the Dumbledore’s Army meetings were taking place, and checked for tails before walking away. She was planning on wandering the halls, daydreaming about a universe where Harry loved her. But she didn’t get very far. Just as she turned a corner, she came face to face with Draco Malfoy. Annoying git he was.

“Oh, if it isn’t Potter’s lapdog” he spat.

“Shove off you little ferret” she replied as she tried to dodge him.

“Take it back!” he demanded “I am not a ferret!”

“Oh sorry, was it a squirrel then?” she mocked him.

Oh, how easy it was to rile him up. Malfoy gritted his teeth and drew out his wand. She mirrored him. If Malfoy wanted to curse her, she wouldn’t let him do so without a fight. Harry had taught her that.

“Attacking fellow students Miss Y/L?” a honeyed voice spoke behind her.

She turned around. Standing there, in all her nasty glory, was the pink toad Hogwarts had learnt to call Professor. Professor Umbridge.

“I see Mr. Potter’s barbarian ways have stuck to his acquaintances” she cooed.

“He is not a barbarian!” Y/n/n replied, unable to contain herself. “He is a brave boy, who’s gone through way too much: but still insists on saving everyone” she continued, her voice growing firmer and more confident with every word that left her lips. “He wants to fight for what’s right, even when you, pompous arseholes in the Ministry insist on denying the truth!”

Umbridge just grinned maliciously. She had just been insulted to her face, and she seemed…pleased.

“Oh Miss Y/L, I didn’t know you to be this…passionate”

Her voice sent chills down Y/N’s spine, but she did her best to strongly stand her ground.

“And I didn’t know you to be so closely acquainted with Mr. Potter either” the woman finalized.

That couldn’t be a good sign. Y/n/n knew it, and she was terrified. This woman had more power than anyone else in Hogwarts, and every piece of information she learned became a weapon in her hands.

“Malfoy, take her to my office”

That moment, Y/n/n knew she was doomed. She had heard of the woman’s methods to extract information. Now, the battle was to take place in the depths of her mind.

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Back in the Room of Requirements, Cho Chang had mastered a perfectly corporeal Patronus. She had kissed Harry’s cheek, praising his teaching abilities. Harry smiled like a buffoon and made his way towards his friends. He couldn’t wait to tell them that Cho bloody Chang had just kissed his cheek. Ron would pat him in the back and congratulate him. Hermione would probably tell him to be more discrete with such topics. Y/n/n would smile warmly at him. Y/n/n would hug him and tell him he was indeed a wonderful teacher. Y/n/n would tell him how proud she was, filling his heart with warmth. Y/n/n… where the hell was Y/n/n?

“Ron!” he called “Where is Y/n/n?”

“Oh, she went for a walk” he shrugged, clearly not seeing an issue.

“Malfoy’s doing rounds today” Harry stated, his gaze frozen in no specific direction as he processed the implications of his declaration.

A bad feeling began clouding his senses, worrying him immensely.

“We need to find her” he ordered “Now”

“I’ll get the Map” Ron said, alarmed by the sudden shift in his mate’s demeanour. “Mione, go with Harry”

The trio split, knowing they were fighting against the clock. They knew Y/N was strong, but no one was stronger than unforgivable curses and Veritaserum.

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“For the last time, Miss Y/L” Umbridge said “What kind of information has Mr. Potter shared with you?”

Y/N was panting. She had just discovered how skilled the woman was with dehydration hexes. Her body felt weak, as if she might faint. But she wasn’t a stubborn Gryffindor for nothing.

“And for the last time Professor” she spat “We only ever talk about Quidditch. Wanna hear about the Cannons?”

Umbridge lost it and slapped her across the face. It shouldn’t have been so painful, but her weakened body could barely take it. Harry she remembered. She was staying strong for Harry.

Too bad he would never know how devoted she was. He was probably still in the Room of Requirements, doing his best to woo Cho. He was probably staring at her gorgeous figure that very moment. Just like he had done the previous year at the Yule ball.

Y/N had been dying to dance with Harry. But he had paid her no mind. Sometimes she liked to daydream about actually having the chance. Wear a beautiful dress, and spin around the Hall curled in Harry’s arms.

With that thought in mind, Y/N allowed her mind to follow the fantasy. She allowed that beautiful daydream to take her away from her reality. She felt so peaceful, she couldn’t even hear Umbridge’s complaints and demands anymore. She could only feel the arms of her beloved, twirling her in his arms. Twirling, twirling and twirling into the depths of her subconscious.

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Harry was losing it. He couldn’t find her. She was probably in danger, and he couldn’t find her. He knew it was his fault.

Despite his hero complex, Harry knew he couldn’t protect everyone. But Y/N wasn’t just anyone. She was his friend, but in a completely different way than Ron or Hermione. She knew how to help him calm down, and cheer him up. She made him feel safe. She made him feel like he could be vulnerable.

But when she had been vulnerable roaming the halls alone, he hadn’t protected her. He had been too busy flirting with a girl —that no matter how wonderful she was—, could never compete with Y/N. His Y/N.

“Harry!”

He turned around. Ron was running up to him, clearly agitated.

“Found her on the map” he panted, trying to catch his breath “Umbridge’s got her”

Ron couldn’t even blink before Harry stormed away. He took Hermione’s hand, and together they ran after their friend.

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Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she had gotten out. When she awoke from the beautiful fantasy that kept her strong, Umbridge was nowhere to be seen. In her place stood Vincent Crabbe, watching her. She hated the bloke, and she hated his mocking over her trapped form. She did remember punching him in the nose. It was a pleasant memory.

She walked down the halls in a confused state, trying to find the way to her Common Room.

“Y/n/n!” she heard.

She turned to see her friend Hermione Granger running up to her. Hermione engulfed her into a hug, and she returned it a couple of seconds later.

“Are you alright?” she cried.

“Yeah” she replied “Just a little disorient—”

“Your hand is all bloodied!” Hermione almost shrieked, cutting Y/N mid-sentence.

“Blimey, there’s a splatter on your face too” Ron commented, showing up next to Hermione.

He didn’t sound as stressed as Hermione, and she could tell as well.

“Don’t worry, it’s not mine” Y/N said, trying to reassure them before Hermione began scolding Ron for not being more concerned about it.

The horror on her friend’s faces would have been comical in different circumstances.

“It’s Crabbe’s” she explained “I broke his nose on my way out. They left him to watch me”

“What?” she looked up to the voice. Harry.

Despite looking dishevelled from just catching up with his friends, he was as dashing as in her fantasies.

“Ronald, walk me to the library” Hermione said, breaking the silence and tugging Ron’s arm. He followed without a word of complaint.

Now they were alone. Just Harry and Y/N. Y/N and Harry.

“I didn’t give her any information” she said after noticing his concerned expression.

“Wasn’t worried about that” he replied, slowly taking her bloodied hand in his. “But I’m impressed you didn’t, that woman’s methods…you look exhausted Y/n/n”

His voice seemed to break for a moment. She squeezed his hand. Reassuring Harry was the only thing in her mind.

“It wasn’t that hard…concealing the information I mean” she blurted out, not really thinking about the kind of information she was revealing “I just…slipped into my fantasies” she confessed.

“Fantasies?” he repeated.

“Fantasies of you and I” she admitted “Dancing. Hugging. Holding hands…Touching lips”

She no longer cared if he found out about her secret adoration. Actually, at that moment, she thought he ought to know he had saved her. He had to know he was the reason she didn’t break.

Harry was speechless. Did she...?

“Sorry” she quickly apologized, seeing as he hadn’t said a word to her practically babbling her heart out “I know it may sound mental…”

Harry cut her apology short by placing his hands on her cheeks. He softly caressed her face with his thumb. Even with an expression of utter confusion, she still managed to be the most beautiful person in his eyes.

“The only thing that’s mental” he whispered “Is that we’re not making your fantasies a reality right now”

She looked at him. He looked at her. There was silent communication between their gazes, a vow that claimed I love you.

And with that, they melted into each other. Dancing, hugging, holding hands…and touching lips.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #cho chang #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy #dolores umbridge #professor umbridge #vincent crabbe #crabbe and goyle #harry potter fluff

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fuckit-hero-of-trains · 3 years

Note

*slides into your ask box and lands on my face* Reread all the Tongs content, I am once again in love with her. Headcanons please and thank you

So even in the beginning of The Chain taking care of Tongs (when she is still very much a kitten and Four is still very much averse to cats) she gets into the habit of following Four around. The one who smells like a wolf and who sometimes is a wolf told her to make sure the little one was okay and Tongs takes this job very seriously. Besides just the job, though, she likes him. Likes that he gives her space and independence. Likes that he doesn't pick her up when she doesn't want to be picked up or try to pet her when she's not in the mood. She likes him. Wants to be his friend. And so she follows him around.

Four, meanwhile, is have A Time trying to figure out why this little cat keeps chasing him???? Can she smell the minish on him???? Does he smell like prey and fear???? Is she hunting him???? He would really like to shrink down and talk to the minish of this era to see if they have any info on these portals, but she's always there, just a few feet behind him. He hasn't seen her chase any minish (though, they also haven't crossed paths with any since she came into their care) but he doesn't want to risk leading her to an unsuspecting village. Doesn't look forward to what might happen when she encounters him at the size of a mouse.

And so they continue on like that for a while, Four barely managing to maintain an air of cool indifference to the little adoring kitten trodding along behind him. Until one day Four sees Tongs quite literally wrapped up with the others; Wind has the little kitten in his arms, Warriors scarf thrown over the both of them. They are valiantly evading capture from the captain while simultaneously getting cat fur all over his precious keep sake, which will no doubt make the Pretty Boy's allergies act up.

So in the commotion, Four slips away, allowing the pull of Minish magic to guide him deeper into the woods. It isn't hard for him to find portals anymore. Not when he knows exactly what he's looking for. And not now that he can feel the sugary-sweet fizz and bubble of warm, familiar magic growing stronger in his chest the closer he grows to one.

A chittering incantation sings from his lips as easily as water flows down a river and he can feel that warm fizz bubble crackle in his chest first expand to encompass his whole body and then pull in. In and in and in and in, the energy tugs at the magic in his blood and skin and bones until both it and he take up a fraction of the space they once occupied.

He turns to hop off the tree stump and down into the undergrowth below when a flash of gray and black bolts forward.

It's her, of course. Tongs. Though she is still a kitten, she is already large. She will be a very big cat one day. One day that Four swears he isn't going to get to see because here she is, standing on her hind legs, her front paws and head hooked onto the the tree stump as two wide green-orange eyes lock on him.

Her pupils dilate, going from slivers to dinner plates.

Literally, part of him whispers snidely as she opens her mouth and–!

"Oh, Little One! I left you alone for a few minutes and you got even littler!"

Four blinks.

Her voice is higher than he thought it would be. So much higher. So much younger.

None of the cats in castle town had ever spoken to him. Spoken at him, yes, their shrill caterwauling of "Come here come here come here, Got You!" sometimes still echoes in his dreams, but that was the extent of their conversation, if one could even call them that.

They had never really spoken to him.

He had almost forgotten that they could.

Or that he could speak back.

"Are you okay?" Tongs continues in that too high, too young voice. "Should I get Wolf? Or-or Armor?"

"No! No, I..." Four stumbles over his words. "I'm okay."

"Oh, okay."

He watches as she relaxes a fraction.

And then–

"Wait! You can understand me?!"

Maybe its the way her eyes go impossibly wider, more black than green-orange. Or the way she seems to stumble on her hind legs, as if this revelation has quite literally knocked her off balance. Or the way her fur puffs up, as if she has been literally shocked as opposed to only metaphorically.

Four isn't sure quite what it is, but something about her response jolts a laugh past his lips despite the fear that still hums through his veins.

"Yes, I can understand you," He forces out between chuckles. And then to clarify, "But only when I'm in this form."

"Oh, that's amazing!" Her voice is a purr and her eyes are so very very bright. "Now we can be friends for real!"

Before Four can correct her, that, actually, when he is this size he would mostly prefer her to be back at camp or literally anywhere not near him, she takes a step back, her paws and head leaving the stump as she sits back on all fours. She curls her tail around her paws and looks up at him.

"It's nice to finally be able to actually introduce myself to you," she says politely and Four wonders idly where she learned such manners.

He's not this formal, is he...?

"My name is Tongs," she says with a purr, interrupting his thoughts, "But you already knew that, seeing as you're the one who named me! I hope we can be good friends, Little One!"

And Four...

Something about hearing her say her own name, a name he had given off handedly, a name that she says with such pride makes Four almost feel breathless.

And it makes something like a hesitant smile pull at his face.

"It's nice to meet you, Tongs." He reaches a tiny hand out and is proud of the way he doesn't even flinch when she leans forward and begins to purr when he pets between ears that already dwarf him. "You can call me Four."

#this may have gotten a little out of hand #anyway #this is how I imagine their first talk #Tongs the Benevolent #lu four #train talk

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quindolyn · 4 years

Note

heyyyyy, can you do harry imagine where when they fight with the death eaters fem reader rescues sirius from bellatrix because she know he is the only relative harry has and gets hurt, so in the hospital harry visits her and thanks her and she tells him that she loves her? like lots of fluff😻

To Be Lovable || Harry Potter

Word Count: 4069

A/N: Hey love, I hope you enjoy this! It was a lot of fun to write.

Warnings: mentions of a broken bone, let’s just pretend that Sirius’ name has already been cleared, obviously not canon, I believe that that is it.

Masterlist

Life had fucked Harry Potter over, that was for sure. It basically said “fuck you” and gave him the responsibility of saving muggle and wizardkind alike. Robbed him of a family, of a childhood, of any semblance of the confidence he so desperately needed.

But life always outs. Life will always find a way to straighten itself out, even the scales. Life had given Harry Sirius Black, so it was doing a pretty good job so far. Just as life had fucked Harry Potter, it’d fucked Sirius Black too.

When life gave them each other it slowly started mending its wrong doings with Sirius’ false imprisonment, Harry’s lack of a father figure, their shared lack of affection of any sort. In Harry Sirius had found a friend, a son and in Sirius, Harry had found a father, someone to care.

You had spent the last five years watching Harry suffer trial after trial all while you suffered a trial of your own, the trial of loving him from afar. As much as you adored Harry, and you really did, how could you not? From the blush that painted his cheeks at the slightest compliment, to the way his glasses sat crooked on his nose, to the messy black mop of hair that sat upon his head the boy was completely and utterly loveable. But it was because of the love you harbored for the boy that you refused to confess your feelings to him, he had more than enough on his plate. The Boy Who Lived most definitely had better things to do with his time than deal with the feelings of a hormonal teenager. Perhaps that was life’s way of fucking with you, making you love a boy who didn’t have it within him to love you back.

Life didn’t get to fuck with Harry Potter anymore, he’d done more than his fair share of suffering, of grieving, he’d more than served a punishment he’d never earned. That’s all you could think about as you saw Bellatrix point her wand at Sirius’ form, laughing maniacally as a jet of green light shot from the tip of her wand, aimed directly at Sirius.

Head thrown back in laughter, eyes closed, it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to dodge the curse leaving you with no other option but to full on tackle him. You threw your body at him, aiming to take him down at the knees but failing rather miserably instead wrapping your arms around his chest and instead of knocking him to the ground, making him stumble backward.

Regardless, on the floor, or a few inches to the right, you still managed to knock him out of the curse’s path. Sirius hadn’t realized who was on top of him or that their intentions were good rather than evil, in the heat of the moment, with curses flying to and fro you were flung from his body as he knocked you onto the floor.

As you landed on your side, your arm trapped beneath you, you heard the distinct, sickening snap of what couldn't have been anything other than bone. The sound rang through the din in the room, impossible to miss but yet no one seemed to offer you so much as a glance, anyone except Sirius that was.

“Shit” He swore, bending down to access the damage, gently turning you on to your back so that he could get a better look at your arm, “I’m so sorry (Y/N).”

“It’s fine Sirius,” You slurred, not daring to look at your arm, the pain you were feeling was enough, you were more than fine without visuals to match. Having never broken a bone before you were not ready for the immense pain that festered in your arm, sharp and stabbing it felt like every single nerve in your arm was being bludgeoned over and over again, mercy be damned.

“You’re slurring your words (Y/N),” Sirius scolded, not angry at you but rather at himself, “You’re not okay and it’s not fine. Now did you hit your head too?”

You thought for a moment, had you hit your head?

Yes, you remembered the thump of your skull against the hard stone of the room hidden deep within the Department of Mysteries, and the more you thought about it, the more clearly you could feel that the dull thrum of pain was still present where the initial impact had occurred.

“Y-yeah,” You stuttered out, your vision blurring as the man kneeling above you started to fade, “I think so, it hurts.” Black spots began to dance through your vision, the cacophony of noise in the room became a low buzz as the sound of your blood rushing through your veins overwhelmed you. It became the only thing you could hear.

You heard the faint noise of Sirius letting out a slew of curses, not all of which seemed to be in English as his hands moved to your scalp, gently pressing down until a sharp pain coursed through you.

“Fuck,” Someone, swore, him or you, you weren’t sure. It was very possible it had been either of you as Sirius pulled his hand away from your head and back into your visage. His middle three fingers were soaked in blood, your blood. Crimson and dripping from his digits the metallic scent flooded your nostrils making you work not to gag as you found the stench to be truly nauseating.

He spoke again, or at least you thought he did as you could faintly make out the whisper of his voice and the moving of his lips.

Faintly you wondered if you heard the familiar voice of a certain bespectacled boy, frantic as he approached you, and the glimpse of dark, messy hair you caught almost convinced you of such. But as more and more blackness took over your vision it became harder and harder to tell until you were completely swallowed, and your eyes blinked closed into a dark, dreamless sleep.

“She’s not exactly asleep,” Someone was talking.

“Well she sure as hell isn’t awake,” There was someone in the room.

“If you’d let me finish Mr. Weasley-”

“Oh shut up,” This voice was new, deeper than either of the previous ones, its posh accent distinctly different than the other two, “No need to condescend the boy just tell us if (Y/N)’s going to be alright. Harry’s going to want to know when he finishes his business with Dumbledore.”

Harry? Was Harry alright? Stupid question, if precedent was anything to go on, he probably wasn’t.

At the mention of his name you felt a wave of energy surge through you, it was only with that energy you were able to blink your eyes open. They desperately wanted to close as the harsh white light of the room flooded your irises but you refused to let them, instead squinting so that the light entering your vision was limited.

“As I was saying,” The first voice continued, “She’s in a medically induced coma, this isn’t a restful sleep this is because she can’t afford to be conscious right now and when she wakes up she’s going to be in a whole world of pain and having the six of you here isn’t going to help her.”

No one seemed to notice your new state of consciousness as they continued their conversation, voices tense with worry as they batted back and forth in a game of verbal racketball, a question met by an answer which was countered by another question.

You were too out of it to take offense to their neglect as you felt that surge of energy start to slip away from you, like sand through your fingertips. Grasping onto the last whispers of it before it drifted away from you entirely you cleared your throat, the sound minuscule but apparently just loud enough to catch the attention of a certain red headed girl.

“(Y/N),” This voice was unmistakable Ginny. You turned your head to face the source of her voice, met by the blurry outline of unmistakable Weasley red, they really should just patent it at this point, hair surrounding a pale face. “(Y/N) you’re awake!” She lunged towards you gripping your arm in her hand, albeit a little painfully, but all pain, and sound, and sight seemed fuzzy, like remembering a dream from the night prior.

At Ginny’s words, all heads in the room snapped to your form where you laid in the hospital bed, looking as though you’d seen better days. Which granted, you had.

It took a second for them all to register the meaning behind what Ginny had announced, but as soon as they did they went into a flurry, a healer rushing to take your vitals, moving her wand up and down your body, muttering incantations under her breath. Molly was at your side, gazing at you with brown eyes swimming with worry as she ran a hand down the side of your face which was still lolled to the side. Two identical boys stood at the foot of your bed while two girls, the previously spoken of redhead and her curly haired friend stood back, giving the Healers space to move about.

Sirius stood over Molly’s shoulder, his eyes drowning in guilt as he failed to return your gaze.

“Where am I?” Godric you sounded awful, and it felt like there was gravel in your throat, irritating you even as you merely swallowed.

“St. Mungo’s darling,” Molly answered promptly, trying and failing to suppress a sniffle, “You were hurt at the Department of Mysteries.”

You remembered, oh you undoubtedly remembered. The ache in your arm and head was more than enough to remind you of what had occurred, it was reinforced by the dark haired man looming in the corner refusing to meet your eyes.

After a good deal of fussing both by the Healers and Molly people finally started to stream out of your room, first Ginny and Hermione, followed by the twins and finally the Healers and Molly.

That left just you and Sirius, who still refused to meet your eyes, in the small room which smelt of dittany and blood.

It was silent for a minute, then two, before you simply couldn’t take it anymore, if he wasn’t going to say something you would, “S’not your fault Sirius,” Your voice was still rather hoarse but it had improved significantly after downing the three cups of water than had been placed in front of you.

“You were just trying to save me, you did save me and now you’re hurt.” His head which had previously been hung raised to finally meet your eyes, the shame he carried in his eyes was palpable, remorse etched into his face. A face which reflected every year he’d lived on this planet and then some.

“M’gonna be fine Sirius, you didn’t know it was me I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” You shook your head lightly to refocus your eyes but that just amplified the pain already pounding in your skull.

Reluctantly Sirius trudged towards you before pulling a chair up to your bed and eventually resting himself in it, not looking at your face but rather at the foot of the bed. “Why’d you do it (Y/N)? Why’d you go to all that trouble to save an old man like me?” There was none of his usual humor in his voice, only a sorrowful curiosity.

“You’re all he has left Sirius,” This drew his attention, craning his neck to look at you, his eyes, accompanied by his continued silence urged you on, “You can’t die on him because then he’ll have no one.”

For the first time since you’d tackled him in the Department on Mysteries however long ago, Sirius Black smiled. Unlike his usual smirks or grins, the one that graced his face was gentle, and perhaps a bit hopeful as well.

“Not so sure about that love,” He let out a laugh so light it was barely a laugh, more like a puff of air, “He’d still have you, wouldn’t he?”

You willed yourself not to give away your true feelings for Harry to his godfather of all people, but the nervous grin that adorned your face was a dead give away to his already good guess.

“He cares about you (Y/N),” Sirius was merciful, sparing you from verbalizing the feelings that the both of you now acknowledged existed, “We had to drag him away from you at the Department of Mysteries.”

“That was Harry?” You perked up, “I didn’t just imagine him?”

“Nope,” He replied, popping his p, “He almost punched Moony when tried to drag him away from you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that you simply didn’t.

“He had to meet with Dumbledore to discuss something, that’s why he wasn’t here when you woke up,” Sirius explained.

“Oh, its okay, I’m sure he has much better things to do than come visit-”

You were cut off mid sentence by the sound of feet thumping down the hallway outside your room. Both you and Sirius turned your heads to watch someone fly by the cracked door of the room, his voice booming as he called out for you, then Ron, then Hermione.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to be a little quieter,” The stern but kind voice drifted into the room from the hallway.

“Where is she?” Yup, that has Harry. The sound of his voice was ingrained in your head and had been for countless years now.

You and Sirius stayed silent, still watching the door, listening to the tense conversation taking place between Harry and the St. Mungo’s staff member before you heard Hermione’s voice cut in, trying to calm the two men down.

“Well it sounds like he’s going to be in here soon,” Sirius said, standing up from his chair, gazing down at you.

“It does,” You agreed.

“I will never be able to thank you enough (Y/N), not only for saving my life today but for being such a good friend to Harry, giving him the love that he deserves.” Tears brimmed at the raven haired man’s eyes as he laid his palm atop your hand.

“Of course Sirius,” Your voice cracked mid sentence as you too were gulping down tears.

Leaning down Sirius pressed a fatherly kiss to the crown of your head just as Harry burst through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” The older chuckled, pulling back to his full height as Harry bounded towards you, completely ignoring the presence of his godfather.

“(Y/N)!” His long legs got him to you in no time at all, when he reached you his eyes snagged on your broken arm before meeting your own.

Sirius sent you a silent wink as he slipped from the room, you hadn’t noticed him even make his way towards the door. He made sure to shut the door tightly behind him so that you and Harry would be granted some privacy.

“Hi Harry,” You let out a watery chuckle as you took in his appearance, he looked like he’d gotten caught in a wind tunnel with his hair all messy, and the fabric of his tight fitting t-shirt clinging to his chest.

“Don’t laugh,” He frowned down at you as he settled himself next to you on the bed, “You might hurt your lung or something.”

You smiled at his clueless, over protective behavior, “S’not my lungs that are hurt H, just my arm and my head.”

“There’s nothing just about it,” He countered, “You’d be fine without your arm but you need your head (Y/N/N), can’t go walking around without it.”

You opened your mouth to say something but you didn’t get the chance before he started talking again, pushing himself off up the flimsy mattress to pace next to your bed, “What the hell were you thinking jumping on Sirius like that?”

You rolled your eyes at his outburst, “Bellatrix had cast the Killing Curse at him, Harry, he was going to die if I didn’t do something!” Your voice raised against your will as you got defensive, you may have loved Harry but that didn’t stop you from getting aggravated with him when he was being an idiot. Take now for example.

“You could’ve died (Y/N)! Don’t you understand that? You could’ve died and I-”

“But I didn’t Harry! I didn’t die and I’m fine now.”

“The hell you are! You’re lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo’s with a broken arm and a concussion, if that's your definition of fine then I’d hate to see what not fine is!”

“I’m a big girl Potter, I can take care of myself,” You argued, pushing yourself up on the bed so that you were sitting upright, independent of your pillows. How was he being so daft? You’d saved the closest person he had to real family and now here he was, completely railing on you.

He was so caught up in his own head, continuing to pace up and down the length of the room that he didn’t seem to notice when you started swaying, no doubt because you had lifted yourself up too quickly and your head should’ve been resting on your pillow.

“You may be a big girl (Y/N), but clearly you shouldn’t be left to your own devices because what would possess someone to do something so idiotic?”

You tried to swallow the anger you felt bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to explode in an eruption of words you weren’t quite ready to say out loud. But as he went on and on you found it harder and harder to swallow your feelings until they inevitably bubbled over.

“You idiot,” You cut him off, too fed up with him to listen to what he had to say, “I wasn’t going to let Sirius die because he’s the only family you have Harry! You love him and it would kill me to see him ripped from you, just like so many other good things have been ripped from you, because…”

You went silent, all of a sudden your voice seemed very loud in the sterile room and you realized it’s because he finally shut up.

“Because why?” He asked turning so that he was facing you, “Because why?”

“Because I-” You felt a rush of heat flooded your face and quickly averted your gaze from the boy, focusing instead on the clock hung on the wall opposite your bed.

You were quiet for a moment, hoping he would show you mercy and continue on with his ranting but he didn’t. Harry never did stand down from a fight, especially not one that he could win.

Coming to terms with the fact that the only way this was ending was with a confession from you, you gulped. And with your saliva you swallowed your pride, turning back to face the boy who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Because I love you, okay?” You admitted to him, letting your vision glaze over so you wouldn’t have to see the eventual look of guilt wash over his features before he gently turned you down, apologizing, calling you beautiful, telling you how you deserved someone better. Even though there was no one better than him.

You thought he looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at you, unblinking.

Eventually, after what could’ve been a couple of seconds or could’ve been a couple of hours, he spoke, “Y-you love me?” He sounded incredulous like he didn’t really believe you.

And that’s when it hit you, he didn’t really believe you.

As a wave of indescribable sorrow washed over you, at the notion that the beautiful boy in front of you really had no clue just how beautiful he was, you maneuvered yourself so that you could stand up, throwing one leg over the edge of the bed, and then the other.

Pushing yourself up into an upright position you were immediately swaying, ready to collapse onto the floor, and Harry must’ve observed that as he came back to his senses as he looped his arms under yours, pulling you into his toned chest, hard from countless hours of Quidditch practice.

“What do you think you’re doing (Y/N/N)?” His voice was softer now, meant for only you to hear.

“Was gonna show you how much I love you,” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt as you abandoned all of your inhibitions, you needed to tell him how you felt, “You clearly don’t believe me when I tell you and that’s ridiculous Haz because you’re lovely and wonderful and you light up my day every time I see you. I can’t imagine my life without you,” You paused your ramble, not noticing the brilliant shade of vermillion his face had turned.

“No, I can imagine it without you Harry and it’s horrible, it’s not a life worth living.”

“Don’t say that (Y/N),” He cut you off, a frown gracing his enviably red lips.

“Would you let me finish Potter?” You sniped playfully, “I love you, Harry, I’ve loved you since we were first years and it kills me that you don’t see how lovable you are. Because you are lovable Harry,” You pulled back a bit to rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, “You are completely lovable, and that’s why I put myself in harm’s way today, because if it meant saving someone you love, then it is worth it. It will always be worth it.”

You watched as tears spilled down his cheeks, but you could tell by the smile pulling at his wobbling lips that they were happy tears, “Y-you love me?”

How your heart could break at three simple words baffled you but it did, “I love you, Harry, I have loved you and I will always love you.”

A smile overtaking his entire face split it in half, a toothy grin you’d like to see on him more often, “I-”

“You don’t have to say it back H, the fact you’re not turning me down right now is more than enough. You don’t have to say it back, we can take it slow,” You cut him off, not wanting to rush him.

“I want to though, I want to say it back.” He insisted, sounding like an eager puppy.

“Really?” You couldn’t suppress the optimistic lilt to your voice.

He nodded surely, still grinning down at you. “I love you (Y/N).”

You had to stop yourself from crying, or screaming, or jumping in the air, or some combination of all three, but that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to scream and jump and cry but you preferred being in Harry’s arms much more.

“May I kiss you?” Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper you could barely hear.

“Yes please,” You giggled, standing up on your tippy toes as he leaned down to capture your lips in his.

You poured all the passion of the past five years into that kiss, all of the stolen glances at him, all of the nights spent sobbing, thinking that he could never love you back. All of the sacrifices, all of the hugs, and the smiles you shared. They were all poured into the kiss and they all meant so much more now because being part of something so beautiful could only make those memories better.

Harry wrapped his arms around your back, pressing your body to his while being careful to mind your hurt arm. You dug the fingers on the hand of your healthy arm in his thick hair, using it as an anchor to pull yourself closer to him.

You pulled away first, taking big gulps of air in an attempt to refill your empty lungs.

“You love me,” Harry stated simply, staring down at you adoringly.

“I love you,” You agreed with a small nod of your head.

“I can’t believe you actually love me.” He smiled again, this grin even goofier than the last, making his emerald eyes shine.

You smiled at the look of childlike happiness that adorned his face, “And I can’t believe it took me this long to tell you.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst

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buildmeafairytale · 4 years

Text

Demon Boyfriends: Elow &Siphorus

Suprise! I wrote something! What’s better than one demon boyfriend, you ask? Two demon boyfriends, duh. I started this literal months ago, and I’m not going to lie, it's very self indulgent and porny. My praise kink is clear and in full swing. I was going to make one of the characters a hard core brat but he turned soft, what can I say. Anyways, I hope you guys like this! This is a link to my Ko-Fi, everything is appreciated but nothing is expected. <3

Life has been going great for you. Too great, really. You landed a well paying job in a cute small town named Talon Valley. You found the cottage of your dreams in the forest a few miles out of town. It was perfectly desolate and had a garden already set up in the back, as well as shelves that will work perfectly to store your potions. You already picked a great altar space, as well. It was your first time living alone, and you were excited to finally practice your craft in peace.

Except there was no peace, and you soon discovered you were not alone. At first, the misplaced items didn’t phase you. You were still unpacking and you really didn’t know where you set things most of the time anyway. Only after the first couple weeks when things were supposed to be in their places, did you start to notice.

You were a witch, sure. But that didn’t mean you weren’t easily spooked. You didn’t want to make things worse, so instead of doing a cleanse that could anger something stronger than you, you did a few charms and protection spells on yourself. That did nothing to stop the tiny torments. If anything, they increased. Not only were several potions moved, but they were mixed together haphazardly. Then your blinds would open after you had closed them, or your fridge would be left cracked. All harmless things, but knowing someone or something else was doing this was enough to have you constantly on edge. You just wanted to relax, dammit!

You never thought of this side of living alone. During the day, you were living in a beautiful cottage in the lush green forest, but at night it felt as though you were in a haunted cabin in the woods. You really couldn’t take it anymore. You had cried and whimpered all night when you felt you were being watched, and by the time the sun rose you had resolved to deal with this.

You gathered some materials and made your way out of the house. After all, a summoning spell required a lot of concentration and you certainly wouldn't be able to do it in there. You found a nice clearing not too far from your home, and set up. You lit a few candles, did a few incantations, and waited. You were about to give up when, in a puff of smoke, a demon appeared. They were crouched down with blue flames dancing around them, but even still they seemed massive.

As the demon uncurled and stood himself upright, it seemed as though more and more limbs appeared. You counted six arms coming out of him, his whole body a gradient of black to white. His pitch black fingertips seemed as though they were covered in soot, and as you got closer to the middle of his body his skin was more and more milky white. Hooved feet clap on the ground. He had dark eyes and horns like a ram’s curled on the side of their head, with long black hair in between, and he towered over you.

He lowered himself and took your shaking hand in one of his large ones, his pure white eyes staring at you.

“It is lovely to meet you, my master,” his voice is like velvet, and he flashes you his sharp teeth at you before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “They call me Siphorus. I cannot wait to be of service to you.”

You let out a bleating laugh, unsure what to make of this. You weren’t expecting such a large and powerful demon to come; you weren’t even out of the broom closet and this kind of thing should take years of real practice.

“Um, master?”

He chuckled under his breath, “Yes, master,” he rose, “You summoned me and I am under your command. I promise to fulfil anything you ask of me.”

You ignored his suggestive promise. Smooth as he may be, you were out in the middle of the woods for a more important reason. “You can just call me Lily if you’d like? And well, I sort of need your help with something?”

“Like I said, I am under your command, master,” he prompts you, a clawed finger lifting your chin up.

“There’s something in my house,” you tell him, clearing your throat and putting some space in between the two of you. “Something spooky and it...watches me I think. I don’t know how to make it go away by myself.”

“A powerful witch such as yourself?” he frowns “No matter, I shall play the role of your gallant protector.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Honestly, who talks like that? For someone who looks so formidable, he’s a bit on the odd side. At least he is going to help you.

He starts towards your house, although you aren’t sure how he knows the way.

“Ah yes, I can feel his presence here.” Siphorus opens the door for you with a flourishing gesture.

As soon as one of his hooved feet lands on the other side of your doorway, chaos breaks out. Cabinets are slamming, furniture is being overturned, and the lights are flickering.

“She is MY master! GET OUT!” A voice yells out as lightbulbs start to explode. You let out a scream as glass flies at you, covering your face and burying it in the stomach of the demon by your side. With a wave of his hand Siphorus halts the glass midair, something you probably could have done if you hadn’t been so panicked. You step away from him once again, your face hot. You try to convince yourself it’s from his inner hellfire, but you aren’t too sure.

Siphorus clicks his tongue in a disapproving manner. “Now now, let us not make a mess of our sweet Lilians home, hm?”

An angry hissing sound responds back, things slamming and shaking but nothing as messy.

“This is quite the tantrum. Honestly, show yourself and be gone!” Siphorus calls out, and a figure starts to appear.

White hot flames spiral out in your living room and from within it steps another demon. This one is almost as tall as Siphorus, but not quite. He is lanky, and his skin textured, light colored but red seemed to be pumping underneath, as if it was scar tissue. This one only has one pair of arms, and has no hair. His eyes are cat-like and stare straight at Siphorus, flames around him roaring even stronger.

“GET OUT!” the figure yells, and you flinch into Siphorus once again.

The flames suddenly go out, and you turn to see the other demon looking at you now.

“What,” he paused, swallowing thickly. “What is going on? Did you...find a new demon?” He asked, his voice sounding distraught. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You stand there confused at his words. He doesn’t sound scary at all, if anything he sounds heartbroken. The fear melts away, and you take a step away from Siphorus.

“What do you mean a new demon? This one belong to you?” Siphorus asks, eyebrow raised. You just shake your head, and he heaves a dramatic sigh.

“Of course I belong to her. I became attached to her weeks ago and she brought me home. She was walking in the forest and I felt her energy. It was lonely so I came with,” he hissed these words out, eyes turned to slits.

“She was scared and I had to keep her safe! She was making protection charms and satchels and sticking them everywhere.”

“From you, you nimwit! She didn’t even know you were in the house!” Siphorus admonishes him, “You should have at least presented yourself!”

His face falls further and the demon places himself on one of your dining room chairs, dwarfing it.

“But, she never asked for me? I was never summoned to do her bidding, or had any reason to show myself. I just thought she knew I was here, and would ask me if she needed anything. Since she didn’t ask, I just watched over her.” he sniffles, and you get a knot in your throat.

A pitiful “Oh,” passes through your lips. You move over to him, letting him scoop you onto his lap.

“I just wanted to be a good demon, I’d never had a master that was such a nice witch,” he whines high in the back of his throat, nosing at your hair. You coo at him the way you would a scared puppy, doting on him with attention and sweet pets on his scarred and hairless head.

You then hear a scoff from Siphorus, both you and the new demon turning to look at him.

“What?”

“The two of you are absolutely pitiful, do you know that?” Siphorus asks, baffled.

You stay cuddled up, “Well, wait - what is your name?” you look up into his eyes, his fangs pushing into his soft looking lips.

“Elow, master,” he replies into your hair, still trying to get as close as possible to you.

“Elow, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell him, giving him a sweet smile he readily returns. “Well I’m absolutely fine with Elow staying. And I don’t think we’re pitiful.”

Siphorus sputters. “Well, I suppose we have a bit of a problem, then. You summoned me to get rid of him, and I cannot leave until your summons are completed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just don’t feel good about making him leave now, Siphorus.” You tell him, and feel Elows long arms wrap even tighter around you.

“Yes, Siphorus. Please don’t make me leave now,” Elow asks him, eyes wide.

You assure Siphorus you will help him in any way that you can.

“You can stay here until we figure out how to let you go back, of course. I- do you sleep?” you ask them. “I can get some rooms ready for you!” And you scurry off, hoping that the two demons get along.

You aren’t sure how to act now that you have both demons staying in your home. Firstly, you layout some ground rules as far as Elow touching your potions and leaving the fridge door open. He looks so sad after your gentle scolding, so you take some time to comfort him as well. The two of you snuggle up on your small couch and watch a movie. He’s informed you that he has been starved of contact for a long while, and he basks in your touch. You enjoy it as well, and his warmth lulls you to sleep. When the two of you wake, you are covered in a blanket. It’s soft and black, and not one you had seen before. It smelled slightly of fire.

The three of you had settled into a routine. On the days you went to work, you came home to a clean house, and a meal. It was all so domestic, and occasionally one or both of your demons would produce a human glamour and come with you into town. They always kept on sunglasses, though, because they couldn’t change their eyes. You doubt the inhabitants of Talon Valley would mind. Siphorus had informed you that most of the people living here were some kind of supernatural being. As a witch, you fit right in.

So well, in fact, that you had befriended another witch already. She was much more confident in her abilities, and had already figured out a solution to Siphorus being stuck with you.

Coming back from a visit with her, you had mixed feelings. You had a solution, sure, but you had grown so fond of your demon. You didn’t want to let him go, and already felt hollow just thinking about him departing. You creak the front door open while lost in thought and were unprepared for what you were seeing. Standing in shock, you take in the scene before you.

Through the doorway, you can see Elow on top of Siphorus. His head is thrown back, and high pitched moans leave him. You can make out the deep bass of Siphorus encouraging him as Elow bounces on his cock, thoroughly impaled. Siphous is leaning back on one set of hands, with the others on either side of Elow’s hips and face. Elow’s own hardness bobs between his thighs, long and thick. It’s textured like the rest of him, but redder. You feel your own face get hot, and the gasp that leaves your lips is what finally catches your demons’ attention.

Elow is embarrassed and won’t look at you, trying to hide behind a tangle of sooty arms. Siphorus just smirks at you, taking in your doe-eyed appearance. You feel as if your heartbeat is between your legs.

“Isn’t our Elow so beautiful,” he draws out, running his hand along the other demon’s flank. Elow shudders, still fully seated, and you nod. “So beautiful, so good for me. For us,” he purrs into Elow’s ear, his milky eyes still locked on yours. This time Elow actually moans, weather that be from the thickness spearing him open or the words alone, you are unsure. Siphorus beacons you closer, and you feel as though you are under a spell.

With a touch of your magic, the door is shut and locked. Your feet carry you closer to them, and Elow peaks at you, somehow both demure and debauched. He isn’t much smaller than Siphorus, really, but he looks tiny like this. He whispers a “Hi,” into your hand, kissing it gently. You return the sentiment, caressing his face. He squirms and whimpers, and you see his cock jump. “Oh, honey,” you coo, and pull him in for a sweet kiss. One of Siphorus’s hands tangles in your hair, while the other of the set is on Elow’s head, encouraging you two. He encourages you vocally too, his pleased throaty moans making your kiss turn feverish.

“Join us, master,” Siphorus implores you, a hand wandering down your thigh.

Behind the lust you feel for them, a sense of nervous insecurity rises when you go to take your clothes off. You pull off your outerwear, taking your time. Your demons must sense your hesitance, as they pull you between their intertwined forms, Elow at your back.

“Shh master, just focus on my hands,” Elow tells you, ever so sweet. His hands move along your breasts, kneading the flesh there. One rises up, covering your throat. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just holds his hand there. His thumb comes up to brush along your lips, and you take it into your mouth without a conscious thought, sucking and wrapping your tongue around it, an action that draws moans from both of your demons.

“Do not try to hide from us,” Siphorus’s voice is but an echoing growl, teeth pressing into your ear. “We can smell you, master. The air is thick with your want, let us serve you.” From where you rest on his torso, you can feel his hips moving, along with Elow’s hardness pressing against your lower back. You whimper around the thumb in your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Elow removes his hands, and you let out a pleading moan, not wanting them to stop.

“You have to tell us, master. Tell us what you want, and it’s yours, please,” Elow says, his voice a breath of a whisper.

“Yes, darling, just tell us,” Siphorus echoes the sentiment, and you feel dizzy with want.

“Please,” you breath out, “Please touch me. Take me,” you plead to them.

No sooner do the words leave your lips their hands wrap back around you. You push your butt back onto Elow’s pulsing cock, rolling against it. He whimpers out, and you can only imagine how full he must feel. You use your magic to take your clothes off, not wanting to break the contact with your lovers. Feeling them against your skin is worth any nervousness you may have been feeling. Siphorus captures your mouth in a kiss, and although you may be his master, it is clear who is in control. The press of his teeth to your lips has your hips jerking, and you’re sure they can both feel how wet you are perched on Siphorus’s muscular abdomen.

Siphorus’s hips are moving harder now, meeting Elow’s bouncing ass. A pair of Siphorus’s hands wrap around your hips and in one fluid motion, hovers you on top of his face. Your hands find his horns, steading yourself. He makes a loud, wounded noise at your grip, and Elow moans out at the particularly hard thrust that follows. You take that as a sign to loosen your hold, and pack his reaction away in the back of your mind for another day. You then look down and see Siphorus’s tongue, so very long and pink, seeking out your heat.

He suddenly growls, and flips you around so that you’re facing Elow, and his tongue presses into you. It stretches you and you feel it press against your walls, long enough that it can still curve to press to your clit. The sensations are overwhelming, and you cannot help but rock against them.

You get to watch Elow being fucked, and you meet his mouth in a frenzied kiss. Both of you are being held tight by Siphorus’s hands, being pleasured by him. The hands around Elow are thrusting him up and down, and the peek you get of Siphorus’s member has you clenching harder around his tongue. He laps up the wetness spilling from you as if he is starved, the noises coming from him sound as if he is tasting salvation. Elow acts much the same, drinking from your mouth as if it is the finest wine.

You feel all too much and not enough, and you wrap a hand around Elow’s cock. It’s hot and heavy in your grip, and Elow turns to putty, begging.

“Please don’t stop, please master,” he whines, high in his throat. Incoherent noises keep coming, and you assure him you won’t stop, pressing yourself further onto Siphorus.

“Not gonna stop honey, wanna make you feel good. Such a sweet demon, aren’t you? My sweet demon.” You praise him and his movements turn jerky. The noises leaving him become even more frantic and high pitched. He reaches a crescendo and spills into your hand, covering you in his thick white cum. You don’t stop until he is pulling away from your hand, a whimpering mess convulsing on your other demon's cock. Your other demon, who is now redoubling his assault against your cunt, seems close as well. You watch him tense up and with an animalistic grunt, fill up Elow with his seed. His tongue is still fucking into you, and the visual he and Elow provide is all that is needed to push you over the edge, tensing and jerking away as your climax leaves you breathless.

The three of you pull yourselves apart, you considerably more out of breath than your demons, who are much quicker to recover. Elow is behind you while Siphorus leans upright against the couch, stretching out his many muscles and preening before you. You let your eyes rake over him, and you feel desire bubbling in your skin.

His nostrils flare, and his eyes dig into you even harder, predatory. You feel your heart pound and you’re sure he can smell your want, just as he said.

“Oh, Lily, you think we are done with you?” Siphorus asks you, reaching over to tuck a sweat soaked strand of hair away from your face.

“I hope not,” you whisper out, ignoring how hot you feel your face getting. You gnaw on your lip, and feel Elow stretch his arms out. You lean into them, already feeling breathless.

“C’mere master, please? Can I have you this way?” He asks, tucking you to his front. One hand moves to rest on your throat while the other goes to your leg. You nod eagerly, letting him hoist your leg up as he nudges his member against your opening. He ruts against you before seating himself inside in one lazy thrust. All of your nerve endings are ablaze, and your hands wrap around his forearm, keeping his hand pressed against your neck. He keeps a slow pace, and molasses runs through your veins. The moans that leave you sound desperate, and you watch as Siphorus fists his cock, his other hands tweaking his nipples and moving up and down his body.

You can feel the magic he is putting off, and it’s as if his hands are touching you from where he is in front of you. He is content with watching this time, it seems.

“Deeper, Elow. Give it to her deeper.” Not just watching then, apparently. He is giving orders as well. You moan out as Elow follows his direction and presses deeper into you, an eager “Yes'' leaving his lips. A phantom hand, courtesy of Siphorus, is circling your clit. The slow but persistent pleasure had you throbbing and jerking back into Elows arms, the two of you overstimulated together in the best of ways. More phantom hands ghost over you and go to Elow, who lets out a whorish moan at the feeling.

“Good boy, just like that,” Siphorus praises and nods.

You whimpered and met his milky gaze, “You too darling, you’re such a good girl for us. Such a good little master, aren’t you?” he asks, his smirk downright predatory.

His words pull a noise out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of making. Between his words, phantom hands, and Elow’s deep movements massaging your inner walls, you don’t last long. You feel yourself tense again, sparks flying through your veins as you milk the cock nestled deep inside you. Siphorus is still talking to the two of you, praising you though you can’t make out the words. Elow finishes too, locking himself inside you as he fills you with his seed. He grunts and makes breathy sounds into your neck as he continues to fill you.The warmth of it has aftershocks rippling through you, and you lean your head back against his shoulder as the two of you enjoy your afterglow. He slips from you minutes later, and you feel his plentiful cum running down the inside of your thighs. You should feel a bit grossed out, but all you feel is sated and claimed.

Siphorus must have finished with you as well, since you feel tendrils of his magic cleaning you up. They run up and down your body, prompting you to further melt into them. Your eyes peek open and he is there, smiling and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Shh, let me get us comfortable,” he tells you, before conjuring up a nest of blankets and cushions for you, all with a subtle fiery scent. You and Elow don’t even have to move, all the better since you still very much feel boneless. If Elow’s soft and content noises are anything to go by, he feels the same. Siphorus nuzzles himself in, the three of you tangled together.

“May I admit something, my dearests?” he asks us, answered only with a humming affirmative.

“I- Well, I didn’t have to stay. I’ve been free to leave but I just really, really wanted to stay.” You had not heard him sound so vulnerable before, and you squeeze one of his hands. You’re surprised, but not upset by the news. If anything, it lifts a weight off of your shoulders.

“Pft, tell me something I did not already know,” Elow teases him, his eyes still closed and a smile on his face.

Siphorus sputters, taken aback, but it turns into hearty laughter.

“I’m glad you stayed,” you tell him, kissing him in your half - asleep state.

The blankets and content hum of magic in the air lull you to sleep, surrounded by your loves.

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jinx-jade · 3 years

Text

April Angst and Fluff gift exchange

Angst-Prompt-2 “you remember?” “Of course I remember.”

I took a line of the song mercy out of context.

This is the result.

Part 1 of Mercy

for @celestial-void-the-3rd

______________________

The spotted vigilante looked around numbly.

There’s fire everywhere.

Injured, dead, frightened, sobbing, and mourning civilians of all ages were scattered amongst the rubble.

Buildings, sidewalks, and roads were broken, falling apart, and heavily damaged.

Yet the spotted vigilante was simply numb.

Far too used to seeing this level of destruction and death.

There was only a small difference between this and an akuma attack.

There is no miraculous cure.

The cure was only responsible for removing any trace that a miraculi was involved.

The only reason it reversed deaths, healed the injured, and restored the surrounding areas was because a miraculi had caused it in one way or another.

This?

This time the deaths are supposed to be permanent.

This time the destruction is supposed to stay.

Marinette looked at the other heroes, vigilantes, and magic users.

They all seem stiff.

Each of them seemed to have carefully placed a blank mask of neutrality on their features.

The only reason Marinette could even read their emotions was due to her time as Ladybug during Hawkmoth’s terror.

That thought alone strikes a bitter cord.

Marinette is not Ladybug, hero of Paris.

Not anymore at least.

She is Miracle, a mage, and a member of the Justice League.

No one in the League knows that she has the miraculi.

Marinette plans that no one ever will know that she has the miraculi in her possession until she gives up her title.

Not her friends, Dick, Babs, Jason, Cass, Tim, and Damian.

Not her family, Tom, and Sabine.

Not even her Fiancé, Jon.

Was it really worth keeping her title as guardian such a big secret when she can help?

Sure the miraculous cure won’t work, but the guardians had created a spell with the same effect.

Looking around again, Marinette clenches her hands in thought.

The spell requires four things.

The first, guardian blood to be used to draw the mark.

The second, read the incantation in the guardian’s tongue.

The third, read the incantation in your love’s tongue, be it, platonic love or romantic love.

The fourth, an unknown price.

Marinette had memorized this spell for a rainy day.

She never thought using it would be a real possibility, and she doesn’t know its price.

Taking a deep breath Marinette forced her body to relax.

Marinette moved from the spot she had been standing still in, effectively gaining the other JL members’ attention with the movement.

As Marinette walked with the attention on her, she bent down and picked up a discarded blade that probably belonged to one of the bats.

Marinette continued walking as she twirled the blade in her hands, arriving at the desired area.

She knelt down on an area of ground that was mainly clear, or at the very least, clear enough to draw the mark.

With all the destruction, crackling fire, and crumbling buildings, Marinette thought it would be too loud for herself to focus, yet at this moment, it was eerily silent.

Marinette didn’t look up from the ground, knowing that her resolve might break if she dared to look at the ones she cared for.

Taking in a deep breath Marinette quickly sliced a line from the crease of her elbow to the inner side of her writs.

She could hear the others question what she was doing but she ignored it as she let the blood run down to her hand.

Marinette began by drawing the outer circle of the mark before drawing the inner details, kneeling on the outside of the mark while her blood continued to run down her arm and into the symbols.

She began the incantation in the guardian’s tongue.

“Gnimusnoc lla eht ria edisni ym sgnul,” Marinette could feel her chest tighten with this line.

“Gnippir lla eht niks morf ffo ym senob,” Her skin began to burn as she had to keep herself from hissing out in pain.

“M’i deraperp ot ecifircas ym efil,” She could feel her eyes stinging, with tears or pain, she’s not sure. All Marinette could do was close her eyes tightly.

“I dluow yldalg od ti eciwt,” Marinette could vaguely hear someone call out to stop her.

Most likely one of the magic users since the guardian’s tongue was the same as a normal magic user's spells.

Marinette clenched her eyes a bit tighter.

Her love’s tough is English.

They would all know exactly what she’s saying.

Marinette opened her eyes when she felt Pollen’s magic being used.

She began to speak again, under the assumption that everyone who could possibly stop her is currently paralyzed.

“Consuming all the air inside my lungs,” she hissed out in pain.

“Ripping all the skin from off my bones,” Marinette can see how pale her skin is now, resembling porcelain in both color and warmth.

“I’m prepared to sacrifice my life,” She could see the marks of the Grand Guardian appear on herself. Her chest felt as it was being crushed under one of the buildings

“I would gladly do it twice” Marinette states, as she wabbled on her knees.

Marinette finally looked up, eyes meeting the eyes of her Fiancé, her love, before completely collapses, her head hitting the ground as she whispers a plea to any deity, spirit, fate, or balance that would listen. “Please have mercy on them.”

Marinette felt Pollen’s magic snap as someone finally broke through, the bee kwami not bothering to rebuild the spell.

She vaguely felt someone pick her up and hold her to their chest.

Panicked shouts, whispers, and sobs could be heard.

A flood of light appeared so bright that she could see it without opening her eyes.

With that, Marinette let her consciousness fade into darkness as she released the title of Grand Guardian to her successors.

Marinette gasped awake.

Her head was pounding.

What happened?

Oh.

That’s right.

She had used her life to cast a spell with the same properties as the miraculous cure.

Wait.

She remembered?

Of course, she remembered.

Why would anything she did go smoothly?

Looking around Marinette was met with the people of her temple and her successors.

“What’s going on?” Marinette questioned.

“We felt you transfer your title but something wasn’t right,” Manon said as she helped her sit up.

“So what happened?” Marinette questioned once again.

“The balance has laid claim to you, high priestess. While those you choose to succeed you now have your old title, you have gained a new” One of the elders answered.

Marinette let out a tired sigh.

"I am honored by the Balance,” Marinette claimed, resigning herself to her fate.

#maribat #@maribat-angst-fluff-april #april angst and fluff exchange

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divagonzo · 3 years

Text

The Incident - Romione +

Ao3

A/N: Thanks to @vivithefolle for getting through my enormous writer’s block to inspire me to write this story. It’s angst filled Hurt/Comfort/Family with many triggering aspects for those who are ND. I apologize for it but the story wouldn’t leave me alone.

Given the nature of the subject matter, I’m personally rating this M rated - and because of the troubling aspects of the story, especially for those who would be triggered by what the story entails.

CW: child bullying, child injury, being bullied for being neurodivergent

Give me my demarcation line, damn it!

The Incident

Once more, with Feeling

Hermione took her reading glasses off of her nose and rubbed her eyes. She was absolutely at her wit’s end with the bloody bureaucracy of the Wizengamot and why they refuse to do things her way when it’s the best for everyone involved. But No, that sod Purifoy has to put in his Galleon and derail everything and cause a ruckus in the chambers.

“Mrs. Granger?” Hermione’s executive assistant Miranda Blunt stuck her head in the office. “Mrs. Potter is calling, says it’s an emergency.”

“Put her through,” Hermione got up from her vast oaken desk and went to the fireplace. The flames in there turned green from the warming orange from the chilly August morning.

“Hermione,” Ginny’s voice came through crystal clear. “We need you at St. Mungo’s immediately.”

Her heart lurched to a sudden stop. “What’s happened? Ron?” Hermione rose from the fireplace and went to collect her purse from the secure drawer in her desk. “If it involves Harry he’s going to catch an earful.” She pulled the compact mirror from her pocket and opened it, waiting the seconds for her assistant to open hers. “I’m going to St. Mungo’s. I’ll check back in as soon as I can.”

“Understood.” Miranda broke the connection.

“What’s happened?” Hermione reached for the urn on the mantle.

“It’s Hugo,” Ginny didn’t elaborate. “We need you immediately.”

Hermione froze. Her baby. Well, not a real baby anymore, not after the growth spurt he had this summer and seemed to stretch out by inches, taking after Ron, but still such a sweet boy. She enjoyed snuggling him when he would allow it, but he couldn’t fall asleep unless Ron was holding him in his arms, holding onto him awkwardly until his soft snores told everyone that he could be gently placed in his own bed.

She shook herself from her stupor and reached into the urn for the Floo powder and threw it in, stepping through the few blocks to the Auror waiting area. She saw Ginny sitting there with Rose, James, Al, and Lily Luna. Harry was nowhere to be found. Rose had her hand wrapped up, like she’d broken it and James was sitting on the other side of the room, two black eyes and a blood crusted nose that looked like it hadn’t been treated yet.

“Where –

“The nurse will see you back,” Ginny said stoically.

Hermione ran from the room to the admission desk and saw the Nurse. Hermione knew her well enough by face and first name but wasn’t much beyond that. “I was told my son was admitted. Hugo Weasley-Granger.”

“Yes, you’re needed.” The nurse left the window and met Hermione at the doors, walking briskly into the various hallways that hadn’t changed much in the last 20 years. “Mrs. Potter brought your son in about twenty minutes ago and we said we needed you immediately. He’s been hurt but there’s something else going on, something we don’t quite understand, and you might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

Hermione went into the area and saw her son sitting in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped around his knees. There was some crusted blood on his neck, below his ear, and a huge bruise on the side of his face.

“He won’t let us near him, Mrs. Weasley,” a medi-witch spoke up first. “Any time any of us even gets within a meter of him, he screams.”

“I am going to sit on the ground. Every time I finish a sentence, move me six inches closer. His therapist has things in place to help him when he gets like this.” Hermione dropped her purse and put her wand down. She knew about these behaviors and she’d read up on how to help him cope as well.

“Hugo, Mummy is here.” Her voice was so flat to her own ears it frightened her – but she knew from Audrey that it would be soothing for her son. “You’re safe. No one else is going to hurt you,” She felt magic surround her, ever so slowly shifting her forward towards her son. “Aunt Ginny told me you needed me. I came straight away.”

She repeated the mantra until she was sitting right in front of her son. While he looked somewhat like Ron, being gangly and with auburn hair with ginger strands and streaks through it, it had her texture, along with freckles across his nose and on his neck. But he took after her in personality, temperament, and how he saw the world, but only more intensely. She understood him, when he would be quiet for hours at a time, or completely engrossed in something that interested him.

She suspected he was much like her by the time he was a year old, with some behaviors she had been watching to see if they manifested. As soon as they started, she took him to a Muggle doctor who recommended her to a specialist who made a tentative diagnosis. He had a cadre of therapists to help him with his speech and role playing so he wouldn’t have a meltdown for any change in his daily schedule.

She knew. She didn’t need it to be tentative, from how much he’d get overwhelmed at Sunday lunches at the Burrow to not liking being hugged or easily frustrated to even the texture of his clothing, which she understood far too well. Yes, he was much like her so seeing him like this was painful. But while her parents struggled for so long, she fought like hell so he wouldn’t struggle as much as she did growing up.

“Hugo, I am right here. I’m not going anywhere. No one is going to hurt you. When you are ready, you can crawl into my lap. Take the time you need.”

Ever so slowly, in what felt like hours was probably seconds, Hugo slowly ceased rocking before crawling into her lap, right before he started rocking hard yet again.

He settled in and she took a deep breath, knowing that the first giant hurdle had been passed.

“Love, the medi-witch is going to use magic to put us up on the bed. Close your eyes and bury your face in my chest. They won’t be using magic on you, only me.” He did as instructed, burying his head into the flannel of her jumper. She looked at the Medi-witch. She watched the non-verbal incantation wand movement and braced slightly. Magic enveloped her again, levitating her from the very cold tile floor up onto the gurney.

“Sweetie, will you hold my hand? I don’t want you to talk but I do need you to communicate with me and I know this way is much easier for you right now.” She opened her hand and waited for him to put his in hers, squeezing it hard.

“That’s terrific, love. Now you don’t have to talk at all the rest of the time we’re here, only answer my questions by squeezing my hand.” Hermione stared over his head at the Medi-witch and watched her procure parchment and self-dictating quill. She nodded once for Hermione to start.

“Did Rosie hurt you?” One squeeze. “Rosie didn’t hurt you. That’s good. I’m happy to hear that.”

“Did Lils hurt you?” One squeeze. “Al?” One squeeze. “So Jamie hurt you?” Two squeezes.

“Could you tell Aunt Ginny what happened?” One squeeze. “You hurt too much, doesn’t it?” Two squeezes. “I thought so. Are you still hurting?” Two squeezes. “And you don’t want to tattle on Jamie?” One squeeze.

“Was Jamie playing Quidditch?” Two squeezes. “Was he chasing a snitch?” One squeeze. “Throwing a Quaffle?” Two squeezes. “The bludger?” two squeezes.

“Were you on your toy broom outside, playing?” Two squeezes. “Was Aunt Ginny watching you?” One squeeze. “Jamie convinced you to go play outside with him and Rose?” Two squeezes. “And then you got hurt and saw Aunt Ginny?” Two squeezes.

“Jamie convinced you to come outside and ride your broom without an adult.” She sighed. “Jamie means well sometimes but he doesn’t quite fathom why the rules are in place for Hugo.” She turned back to her son. “I’m not mad at you, sweetie. You love your older cousin and want to be able to play with him and Rosie and you hate being left out.” Two squeezes. “Yes, I figured as such.”

Hermione looked at the other medi-witch. “Have you asked Mrs. Potter what happened?”

“She said that she found two bludgers flying around their pitch and Hugo on the ground crying.”

“Did Jamie hit the bludgers at you?” Hugo started rocking. “More than once?” The rocking grew frantic and she felt her shirt getting damp.

The door crashed open, and Ron stood in the doorway, seeing his wife and child on the gurney. Hermione slightly shook her head before seeing his ears turning red. Right now she couldn’t cope with Ron and Hugo so Ron would have to deal with it, for now at least.

He closed the door softly while Hermione rocked Hugo in her lap, letting her son have his silent meltdown without him noticing everyone in the room watching him. People watching him meltdown always made it worse.

The Healer pulled his wand and handed it to the medi-witch, showing Hermione without his wand that he wanted to charm Hugo to sleep so they could tend him. She nodded and watched the healer gently apply the charm to her son and felt him drift off to sleep, like he’d fallen asleep in her arms which he hadn’t done since he was a toddler. He always preferred his Daddy once he could make his wishes known. She wouldn’t complain, even if her heart had been beating out of her chest entirely too hard for her continued good health.

She stood and gently placed her son on the gurney, feeling a sob try to erupt. She stifled it, knowing she’d pay for it later on but Hugo came first.

“Now that he’s asleep, we can check him. We did not want to do that without a parent’s presence and their permission. But his behavior was so queer that – “

Hermione turned and if she’d had her wand in her hand, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t have hexed the healer tending her son. “His behaviour is not queer,” Hermione growled. “My son is Autistic. He’s been diagnosed by Muggle doctors and has Healer Reeves as his Magical counselor. He takes after me that way and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to my son that way.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” he retorted instantly. “He got upset and we didn’t know how to help him once Mrs. Potter had left the room.”

“Now you know,” she snorted, “and now you can tell me what happened.”

Hermione stepped back to the side of the room and watched the Healers and multiple medi-witches work on her son, using magical diagnostic charms and spells to work. They worked efficiently, silently, with a medi-witch dictating the medical records.

Seconds passed that felt like days, with the Healers finally turning back to Hermione, seeing her. “He will be OK. From what Mrs. Potter told us, along with our tests, he has a concussion from getting hit with a bludger. There is also a huge bruise on his back from what looks like another bludger impact. I’d almost say that someone was hitting them at your son, but I don’t like to make assumptions. Bruise paste will fix the back but for the head, he will need time at home, with little in the way of lights and noise. It’s not severe, not like Quidditch players get from time to time, but he will require some time to rest and recover.”

“There’s nothing you can do for him?”

“These things are tricky when it comes to the brain. Even Muggle Medicine has limitations when it comes to this kind of brain injury. But at his age, he needs rest and quiet and darkness to remove stimulation for him. It would probably benefit him in the long run, too, given what you’ve said.”

She sighed, trying to take a deep breath that just wouldn’t happen. Her precious son, her sensitive child, was bullied by an older cousin. That was bad enough. That would be dealt with as soon as Hugo was home and asleep in his bed. But to add a possible traumatic brain injury to it, at his age, was a bit too far. Fortunately, she had ample time accrued to take off and spend it with him, or work from home given everything going on. However, seeing to what happened took priority after tending Hugo.

“When can we take him home, since my husband is probably out in the waiting room?”

“We shall be finished shortly, maybe a few more minutes, and then take him home straightaway. No Floo travel for at least a month. No Portkeys either since it might aggravate any sort of injury. Apparition or Muggle transport only, and then keep it as minimal as possible, for his benefit.”

Hermione understood that all too well. She tended Harry and Ron occasionally after mishaps with the Aurors. “Please keep him asleep until I return. I need to go speak with my husband.” She collected her purse from near the door and slipped out, knowing that Ron would be mad with grief. Instead, she found him pacing the hallway around the first corner.

“How is he?” He raced up to her when he saw her, embracing her like she desperately needed. She didn’t realize how much tension let go with his hug. “I didn’t want to come back in and upset Hugh. I knew you’d have it under control.”

Hermione explained what happened as well as what caused it. Ron’s face grew even more pale than normal but his ears and neck grew intensely red.

“I’m upset too but we will handle it later, once we get Hugo home and in bed resting. And it’s not like Ginny probably hasn’t tended to things by now.” She slumped back into her husband’s arms. Who knew that her heart would have two distinct beats from her own, and stress hers when anything happened to either of her kids. She hadn’t realized until now how much her children’s welfare meant to her, especially when it came to the treatment by the family. “We need the healers to check on Rosie. She had a wrap around her wrist when I rushed through the waiting room.”

“You go get Hugo and take him home. I’ll tend to Rosie and we’ll be home straightaway. I also will need to speak with her and find out what happened.”

Hermione took a deep breath, relaxing her back and shoulders. “I’ll see you when you get home, Love.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips. The privacy of the hallway would suffice, given the overwhelming adoration she had for her husband. He was her rock, her foundation, rarely getting inside his head too much now, but also giving her subtle direction and taking the mental load on what needed to be done without being boorish like she could be. He never demanded, and never expressed disappointment when she made a different decision but, most of the time, his wisdom was exactly what she needed when she felt lost and drowning in indecision.

She turned and went back to the room to collect her son and take him home.

*****************

“Hermione, we’re home,” Ron bellowed into their residence outside of Cardiff. “And Ginny will be over as soon as the Healers tend Jamie.”

Hermione came out of Hugo’s room, closing the door without shutting it completely. “I have it dark and quiet in his room, and the potion the healers gave him should let him sleep for hours. They said he needed to sleep and rest as much as possible for the next two weeks, minimum. I’ve already spoken to Miranda and set the owls to come here and she will pop over after work to bring today’s docket and tomorrow’s as well.”

“Mum, I’m sorry,” Rosie chimed in. “I saw what happened and instead of running to get Aunt Ginny I got upset and hit Jamie. I know it was wrong but – “

“What happened?” Hermione tried to keep her voice neutral for her older child, who was just like her Dad with her underlying temper. She wasn’t mad at Rosie and she needed to keep her temper in check with her child, who might mistake that Mum was mad at her, and not frustrated with the situation.

Rose looked at her Dad and he nodded before she turned back to her Mum.

“Everyone went outside to play, with Aunt Ginny watching us. Al and Lils were inside coloring and Hugo came out to fly around. Lils yelled and Aunt Ginny went back inside.” Rose looked at Ron and he nodded, prodding her gently to continue.

“Jamie and I kept playing Quidditch out back, throwing the quaffle while dodging the bludgers flying around while Aunt Ginny was inside making Lunch. It was so much fun, and we were laughing when either of us missed the Quaffle or got bumped by the bludger. I thought Hugo had gone inside with Aunt Ginny since I didn’t see him. Jamie flew down and plucked up a beater’s bat out of the box and said he’d take a swipe at them while flying and I said OK since it’s good practice for me, too.”

“You know how I feel about that,” Hermione said, “especially with Aunt Ginny not keeping a close watch on you while you’re doing it.”

“I know,” Rose replied. “I thought she’d be inside only for a few moments.”

“Ok, go ahead.”

“So the bludgers were flying around and Jamie had his beater’s bat out while also throwing the Quaffle at me from time to time. Anyway, I told Jamie to wait a moment because I wanted something to drink. I heard him laughing and then I heard a thump and saw Hugo on the ground and his broom broken. I didn’t know Hugo had come back outside to fly some more. I looked up and saw one racing for Hugo. I ran towards him but couldn’t stop it from hitting him in the head before bouncing off. I ran back for my broom and raced up to where Jamie was. He looked boggled that another bludger had hit Hugo. I… I flew into him while on my broom before taking his beater’s bat and hitting him with it.

“Aunt Ginny came outside and saw Hugo on the ground. She dropped the tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice and ran to him, yelling at us to get down on the ground, that we needed to go to St. Mungo’s.” Rose held her head down. “I know I should have gotten her first, but I was so upset that Jamie did that, and laughing about it.”

“I don’t fault you for being upset but you know better. No quidditch this weekend for you. A small consequence for how you acted instead of going to get Aunt Ginny should be sufficient punishment. Besides, your wrist will be sore for a day or two anyway, I reckon, hitting Jamie with the beater’s bat.”

“Yes, Mum.”

Hermione looked up at her quiet husband. “What are we going to do about Jamie? This isn’t the first time he’s been a toerag towards Hugo.”

The fireplace roared to life and Ginny was inside the flames. “The Healers are finished with Jamie. Can we come through? He needs to know what his punishment is for what he did today.”

Ron and Hermione shared a look, not bothering to look at Rosie. “Come on through,” they said in unison.

The fireplace roared high inside the hearth and Albus stepped through first, followed by a tidier Jamie, followed by Ginny holding Lily Luna to her chest. His face was still bruised but his nose was fixed and the blood removed from his shirt. Within moments they were all free of dust and so was the den. “We won’t be staying long. Jamie has a very long list of things he has to do as punishment for what happened today.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was aiming for Rose. I -“

“Enough, James!,” Ginny’s voice was quiet, dangerous, and one that no one wanted to cross.

“Did you tell Hugo he could come outside with you?” Ron asked first.

“Well, yeah, at first. Mum had been outside and it was nice and then mum went inside for a minute and Hugo was having fun on his toy broom while Rosie and I were playing Quidditch.”

“He’s six years old, James.” Hermione’s voice brooked no insolence. “He isn’t to ride his broom without supervision, ever. Did you not understand that?”

“No,” his voice grew quiet. “Mum said it was OK. I didn’t think – “

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t see Al or Lils on their brooms, did you?”

“No,” he said again. “But he had been riding earlier so I thought it was ok.”

Ron stood before James, towering over the lad. He was in his Auror stance, looking like he was ready to fight with his bare hands. “Why did you hit the bludgers at Rosie? I gave your parents that set, as a gift when you turned two.” Ron huffed. “I know that set. Grandpa, Uncle George, and I charmed it so the bludgers wouldn’t be brutal unless you hit the bludger with a bat. The first time you hit that bludger with a bat, it disabled the charm.”

“We’ve done it before. No one got hurt - “

“It’s no excuse, James,” Ginny said. “You know the rules - no beater bats unless an adult is outside with you. It’s one reason why you’re being punished - for being reckless while playing.”

“Didn’t you bother to see that Hugo was in the way?” Ron’s Auror voice had come out. “Do you think it’s funny picking on him? We know this isn’t the first time he’s not tattled on you. He’s six years old. He’s a child compared to you.”

“I wasn’t aiming at him. It was an accident - “

Ron took a step forward. James backed up into his Mum, standing almost as tall as her at 11. “An accident is you falling off your broom. An accident is dropping a glass of pumpkin juice because you weren’t paying attention. No, you chose to swing the beater’s bat and hit it at Rosie, even if you didn’t intend it to hit Hugo, it did, and it hurt him terribly.”

“I didn’t mean to! He was having fun with us, playing Quidditch.”

“Bollocks, James.” Ron’s temper seemed to be erupting. “He’s never expressed a moment’s interest in Quidditch, unlike Rosie. Didn’t you realize that?”

“No,” his voice was whiney. “We thought he - ”

“There’s no we to it, James,” Hermione cut in. “She says she told you she was landing to get a drink of juice and heard you laughing and saw the bludger hit Hugo in the head.”

“Bullying kids is never funny, James. Ever. It’s unacceptable behavior from anyone, much less you. I’d have thought better of you when it came to being kind to your cousins.”

“He doesn’t know,” Ginny said under her breath. “We’ve not told them.”

Ron crossed his arms but stood there looking ferocious. He spied Rose at the edge of the hallway, listening intently. Al and Lils were there with her.

“I’m sorry,” a small tear leaked out. He refused to look at any of the adults but stared at their shoes.

“I don’t think so, James,” Ron interrupted. “I don’t think you’re sorry for hurting Hugo. I know you’ve done it before and you were let off with a warning. But not this time. No, this behavior is unacceptable in this family, but especially from you. You’re eleven and starting Hogwarts in a month. You’ve gotten your letter and are expected to have some level of maturity, even for your age. Mistreating small kids is behavior that other toerags do,” Ron snorted before hearing Malfoy under Hermione’s breath.

“He’s already grounded for the next month, Ron,” Ginny added. “But beyond that is up to you and Hermione.

“What do you think, Hermione?”

She turned back to her Godson. “James, look at me.” He looked up but refused to make eye contact. “I said look at me, James Sirius Potter.” He finally did and Hermione saw the fear on his face. “You hurt Hugo. He’s in his bed asleep and can’t come to play at all for the next two weeks because of your mindless behavior. He might need longer to recover from your thoughtless actions. You picked on him for whatever reason, after we as a family have told everyone that he’s to be treated a certain way. And yet you, for some reason that isn’t important now, decided to be careless around him. We already know he’s not told on you for previous things because he adores you, or did, and didn’t want you to get into trouble.

“But you are in deep trouble now.”

He shuddered slightly.

“But I also think that you aren’t sorry for what you did, only that it was worse than you expected and got in trouble for it. No, you chose to hit those bludgers in his direction intentionally. Whether you were aiming for Rosie or Hugo doesn’t matter. Your impulsiveness hurt someone. I’d be furious if you had hurt Rosie, too.”

‘I’m – “

“Don’t say you’re sorry until you actually mean it,” Ginny spat. “You’re only sorry for the consequences impacting you.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Go home and get me your broom. Now.”

“Mum?” James looked at her. “My broom? What are you going to do?”

“You’re already in trouble. Questioning my judgment will make it ten times worse. Go get your broom, now, James.”

He ran for the fireplace and tossed floo powder into it, disappearing in the green flames.

“What do you have in mind?” Ron asked.

Ginny stood there pondering a moment. “Until he shows some real maturity, I think losing any and all flying privileges on his broom will suffice. He will hand over his broom to you and so he can’t nick it like I used to do when no one was looking. I also think that it might be smart that he is not able to try out for the house team for a couple of years.:

Ron took a deep breath, like he’d been holding it in. “If he thinks he can get away with tosser behaviour this should break it for good. Merlin knows how relentless Fred and George were to me.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s make it two years.” She turned to look at the window next to the fireplace. A small sigh escaped. “I’ll owl Minerva this weekend and let her know. Not being allowed to try out until he’s a little older would be a benefit. First years aren’t allowed to try out anyway so two years will make him the start of his third year so he should be mature enough. If not we can have it extended.”

“Ok.” Ron slumped slightly. “Hermione can decide on when he’s allowed to use his broom again. I won’t interfere.”

“Neither will I,” Ginny added.

James ran back through the fire to where he handed it to his Mum. Ginny turned and handed it to Hermione.

“James, for hurting Hugo – “

“I didn’t – “

“Yes, you did. I’ve seen it before. I watched you with Fred laughing when Hugo was being picked on.”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“No, if you were you’d have not done it.” Hermione’s fierce stare made him bow his head. “We’ve discussed what is acceptable and what isn’t.”

“You don’t pick kids younger than you. I know we’ve taught you better.” Ron’s disappointment was evident.

Ginny stood there, resolute. “You’re grounded from flying for the rest of the summer. You’re also losing your broom until Aunt Hermione says you can have it back.”

He spun, facing his Mum. “No! That’s not fair!” He turned back around and saw his Uncle staring him down.

“Fair is following the rules set down – and that was that Hugo is to be protected, not picked on.” Ron gave a piercing look, freezing James’ protests. “Aunt Hermione and I will keep your broom, until you prove to us that you can follow the simplest of rules, of which is You don’t pick on Hugo – ever. You hurt him, James, and that’s not something that a mere I’m sorry will fix. So, until you prove it to us, you’re grounded from your boom. I know Rosie won’t share hers, not with what she’s heard.”

“No! Not my broom. It’s mine!”

“No, now it’s ours, until we decide to return it to you.”

“I am writing to Headmistress McGonagall, to tell her you will not be allowed to try out for the house teams for an additional year, since first years aren’t allowed to try out.”

“Two years!”

“You hit him twice, this time. The consequences for hurting Hugo and laughing about it should be severe.”

“We think that you need time to learn empathy, to treat those who you don’t respect with kindness, and respect, by not bullying them, ever.”

James let a sob out before covering his face and running for the fireplace. It flared for a moment before settling down.

The adults stood quietly for a moment with the rest of the kids present. “Rosie, go back to your room. We’ll be in shortly.” Rosie nodded before doing as asked.

“She was punished too, right?”

“We have. She’s grounded from her broom and quidditch, too. Just not as long, but for hitting Jamie afterward and not running to get you first.”

“Sounds fair,” Ginny looked at her other two kids. “How about we head home and the two of you can play more. Jamie will be grounded for quite some time. But you two know better than to pick on Hugo, right?” Two very enthusiastic nods were her answer.

“We’ll see you Sunday, even if you don’t come for Sunday lunch. Harry and I will pop over to have a few with you and bring leftovers if you don’t show.”

Ginny gave Hermione a hug and received a light pat on the shoulder from Ron before stepping to the fireplace hearth. “I am sorry for James’ behavior. He knows better and I know when Harry finds out, he’s going to blow his stack over it.” She looked at her two younger children. “It might also be time to sit this bunch down and explain a few things.” The adults shared a look.

“I’m sure once he knows everything about the consequences of the incident, he’ll calm down. We don’t want James turning into a toerag like Dudley was growing up.”

Ginny shook her head. “No, we don’t. Love to both of you and my nephew, too.” Al went first through the fireplace before Ginny pulled Lily Luna close to her and spun away in the flames.

After they left, Ron went to the cooling cabinet for a cold pumpkin juice and brought Hermione some water. “You think we were too hard on him? Two years is a very long time when you’re that young.”

“No, I think it’s just right. Ginny only banned him from Quidditch for the Summer and she only banned him from trying out for the house team until the start of his third year. She didn’t say he couldn’t fly on a family broom, only that we would hold his broom until he proved he’s mature enough to get it back. He’s free to fly but not on his prized possession or playing the sport he loves.”

Ron necked the bottle of his juice. “You think it will work?”

“I think it’s a fair and just punishment for hurting Hugo, even accidentally. We don’t want a repeat of the incident ever again.” Ron opened his arms and Hermione melted into the embrace, finally feeling the tension from everything that happened today melt. She stifled a sob but felt Ron’s arms tighten around her.

“Everything will sort itself out, Hermione. You’ll see.”

“I know.” They stayed hugging for a long while, both lost in their thoughts on their precious son.

63 notes · View notes

kerie-prince · 4 years

Text

We’re Worlds Apart (1)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj/Muggle fem!reader

Post-Battle of Hogwarts

warnings: language

series m.list | general m.list

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif cred)

"They want... me?"

Draco Malfoy sat across his supervisor in his office at St. Mungos. His eyes widened at the offer he was given.

"Well Mr. Malfoy, you've certainly shown us around here that you do well at your job. If I must say so myself, I believe you're ready for the job," his boss has explained. Draco had recently finished his Fellowship and became a remarkable Healer. So much so that the Santa Marie Hospital for Maj Persons in Buffalo, New York contacted his supervisor to offer him a position as Head Healer. It was an incredible opportunity, one that a person could only dream of.

Draco sat still in his chair, shocked that of all Healers from his department, Santa Marie wanted him. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco was determined to change the views people had of him. He was no longer the prejudice prat that he was at school. Draco Lucius Malfoy is now a matured, capable young man. He worked hard and was proud that he did everything on his own. No help from daddy dearest, no pressure of the Malfoy name. It was all him.

"I would love to take this job. When would I start?"

Draco finished filing his paperwork at the Ministry of Magic that was to be sent to the Magical Congress of the United States containing his work permit and all the necessary identification. Walking around London, he grew excited about it. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since he got his letter for Hogwarts.

The next thing he has left to do was to find housing. There was an office located in Diagon Alley that specialized in international real estate. Draco walked into the brightly lit office. Much to his surprise, Daphne Greengrass stood at the reception desk.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Malfoy," she said with a smile on her lips. He was quite relieved to see a familiar face. "Good to see you too, Daph. I'm checking in to see Ms. Moreau. I'm moving to America soon." Daphne was both shocked and impressed that Draco would be making such a big move. They chatted momentarily about the reason for him moving and she congratulated him. Soon enough, the real estate agent walked out and called Draco into her office.

She sat at her desk and gestured for him to take the seat opposite her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Moreau," Draco had slightly bowed his head.

"Please, call me Gwen," she smiled as she reached to shake his hand, "I see from your paperwork that you're moving to America, correct?" he nodded his head in response. "Fantastic! Now, looking at the locations for Buffalo, we have quite a bit of selections from houses to flats. Of course, in America they're called 'apartments'. With your budget, you would be able to get this nice house that is just a 10 minute drive to the Apparition office to Santa Marie's." She showed Draco pictures of the house. It was quaint. An all white, one story house that had three bedrooms, a lifted porch, small kitchen, two bathrooms, trimmed green grass in front and a dark stained wooden fence that went around the house. Draco nearly fell in love with it. Its contrast to the Malfoy Manor was warm and inviting.

Gwen had shown him pictures of the other places she had gathered for him, but none of them peeked his interest as the first house did. It was quite silly as he thought about it. Most likely, he would be working long hours at the hospital to even be able to appreciate the home. It made more sense to get an apartment as he would most likely just use the space to sleep and eat. But the house was begging for him to live there. After about an hour long session, Draco made his final decision on the small house.

"Excellent choice, I had hoped you'd love it. Now, before I contact the sellers about your offer, I must let you know this before you sign anything," Draco shifted in his seat. Of course there had to be a catch. A house this perfect needed one thing to go wrong. Was it busted windows? A terrible neighborhood? Shitty pipelines? He nodded for her to continue.

"This is an integrated neighborhood. Both muggles and wizards live around and you might not know which are which for a while." Muggles. He sat in silence, staring down at the photos of the house. Did he really want a muggle neighbor? No, you're past this Draco thought. The old Draco wouldn't even give the place a second thought. But he wasn't him anymore. "I don't care. I'll take it."

—

You woke up in the morning, stretching your arms and legs out of the thick blanket. It was currently 8:47 am, your alarm clock beside you still had 13 minutes to alert you to wake up. Deciding to just get a head start on the day, you walked into the your bathroom and started your shower. The water was at the hottest you took and you went about your daily routine. You said your repeated incantations in the shower as you lathered yourself with soap:

Water, water, wash away. Water, water, cleanse today.

Walking out your shower, you grabbed your towel and recited the next spell as you dried yourself:

By the earth in the soap,

by the air in the steam,

by the fire that heats the water,

by the water that cleanses,

I am cleansed, clean, and ready for the day.

When you were 12 years old, you used to watch your grandmother perform Wicca in her bedroom. Your mother didn't particularly join in on the belief, but also didn't oppose to you starting alongside your grandmother when you turned 18. Now, you were almost 26 and still kept on the same practices.

On the contrary to people's interpretation or views of witchcraft, you called yourself a White Witch; someone who performs good magick upon selfless reasons. You never hexed anyone nor wished any ill fate. The Laws of Nature was surely watching at all times and if you did, expect to get the same fate but in threefold. Not that you even had any reason to do such things, anyways.

After getting ready, you grabbed your bag, keys — which held a protection charm — and went on your way to work. Your cat sat in her tower located in your living room and she watched you walk out. Getting into your car, you noticed movement next door. A big, moving truck was parked and a crew of movers carried furniture into the house. Finally, someone new you thought.

Feeling nosy, you sat patiently to figure out who it was moving next door. Was it a family? An elderly couple? Maybe newlyweds. Right when you were about to pull out of your driveway, a handsome blond stepped out of the house guiding the movers where things were going to be placed. You couldn't hear his voice, but could tell from the distance that it had to be attractive.

He looked around the street and caught you starting from your car. You hesitantly raised your hand to wave at him but was cut off by a man walking up to him with a clipboard gesturing where to sign. You looked at the time on your watch and nearly panicked at how the time passed, leaving you with only 15 minutes to get to work. Hauling ass, your car let a screech out as your foot punched the gas pedal. You'll be able to introduce yourself later, Y/N.

—

A few days passed and Draco was headed for the Apparition office to his new workplace. He had leased a new car to drive there. According to the Magical Congress, wizards and witches that lived in integrated neighborhoods must check in at Apparition offices to not raise suspicions from No-Maj. Seemed quite silly at first, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. He remembers the first time he went to Diagon Alley with his father through the Leaky Cauldron, finding it hidden with a wall that required taps against it. Behind it, a magical alley hidden from muggles.

He pulled into the office building lot with ease. It was clean on the outside and had a sign on top that only read MCA Co,. At the front door, there was a pin pad with numbers on it that kept it locked. Draco pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number. The door made a clicking noise which signaled that it was unlocked.

In the front was a young man sat at a reception desk typing away onto a computer. It was a strange sight for Draco as he's never seen one before. He walked up to the desk and waited for the person to acknowledge him.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to the Magical Congress' Apparition Office. May I see your ID pass, please?"!the accent was unfamiliar to Draco, but he nonetheless reached for the pass clipped to his trousers and gave it to the receptionist. He scanned the pass, handed it back to Draco and raised up from his chair to guide Draco to the door which had a direct line to the hospital. "Have a good day, sir!" were his last words before he went back to his desk.

Draco looked at the address once more before appariting into Santa Marie's. Here goes nothing.

—

It was a long day at the office. Setting up appointments with new clients, greeting all the new people he'd be working with, and a surprise welcome party to end it. Everyone he met had different variations of American accents. Some from Chicago, some from California, and some from the native state of New York.

A man by the name of Ian Parker helped Draco navigate around the building. Draco was quite relieved to hear that Ian had lived close by, just two blocks and a turn away. They had lunch together and talked about just simple things about each other. It felt nice to meet somebody and they not know who you are and things you've done in the past.

Once he got home, the first thing Draco did was start to run the shower, gathering his sleepwear as the water heated up. Not meaning to, Draco noticed how his bedroom window had perfect view of yours. To him, it was extremely odd.

You had faux vines that curled around your four-poster bed, a couple of plants that hung against the wall and posters of movies that Draco knows for a fact he's never seen in his life. You walked into your room and went up to a small drawer and dug through it. After a few seconds, you grabbed out some incense sticks, lit them and stood them on the stand that laid on your dresser. Afterwards, you sat on the floor with your legs crossed and started taking deep breaths.

Draco caught himself staring for too long and was about to head into the shower until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. There you sat, but this time, you held items in your hands. One held what Draco thought to be just some colorful rocks. The other hand held a bundle of herbs on fire at the tips. Your lips moved and it had Draco curious. Your hand with the herbs moved in a specific pattern, creating smoke around you. Once you finished, you set the rocks and herbs down at a table and left the room. That was odd. Draco thought. He passed it off and went on about his night.

—

"It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. And trust me when I say that Hogwarts has its fair shares of odd moments," Draco sat in the break room with Ian and two other people, Ashley and Blaine. They laughed at the description Draco had of you and settled after Ian began his explanation.

"It seems that your No-Maj neighbor is considered a Wiccan." What in Merlin's name is that?

"Pardon? What's do you mean?"

"It's what they call witchcraft," Ashley added, "it became a popular thing after the Salem Witch Trials. Of course, there's no real magic to it like what we can do, but they nonetheless believe it works."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Muggles are trying to be witches? This was probably the last thing he ever thought he would hear. Inside, a familiar feeling had ignited. A feeling he had, or he supposed still had, for a certain species. He didn't like it but to find out that what he is had become a fantasy to be was upsetting. He was born into this life, not them. Not you.

—

It had been a really nice day at work. People had been kind and you sold out of a new oil you made. As you entered your home, your cat ran up to your legs and purred against you. You smile down at her and made your way to prepare your dinners.

She nibbled away at her bowl and you watched in content.

Outside, you heard a car pulling in. It's probably him. You peaked out the window in the living room and your guess was correct. He stepped out of a black car and walked to his door. You tried catching his attention by waving your arms about, hoping he glanced your way. When he did, you waved excitedly to him.

He stared at you with a straight face, no hint of any feeling. It was odd, people usually like you and wave back but this guy was just looking at you. Not doing anything. You looked around to see if there was something behind you, only to look back and see that he was gone. Ooo...kay?

You grabbed your sweater and decided to introduce yourself to your new neighbor. It had been almost a week and it seemed that he still hadn't acquainted himself to anyone on the street. The cool, spring breeze sent a pleasant chill down your spine as you walked on the sidewalk.

Once you stepped in front his door, you knocked three times. No answer. Three more times. No answer. The lights that were on had turned off and curtains had been shut in almost a blink of an eye. He had made it clear that he was not in a mood to talk to anyone. It slightly hurt your feelings, but you told yourself to not dwell on it. He's just tired from work. Just then, an idea popped in your mind as you headed back home.

—

"Stupid fucking muggle clock," Draco cursed as he was running around his bedroom getting dressed. He overslept by an hour and had 10 minutes to be in the Apparition office to go to work. Damn American laws.

He grabbed an apple, not his usual sour green one but a sweet red one this time, grabbed his bag and ran for the front door. Something taped to the door caught his attention and he halted his movements. It seemed to have been a note someone left. He unfolded the paper and read it to himself;

Hello! My name's Y/N and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I hope we can become good friends~ if there's anything you need or if you'd ever like to get acquainted over coffee, please feel free to knock on my door! It'd be nice to get to know you :)

At the bottom of the note was a small drawing of a witches pointed hat and Draco immediately knew who left the note. Almost on instinct, the note caught on fire in his hands and the ashes fell to the ground. He dusted his hand off and went to work. As if we would ever become friends.

—

next chp

taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco x you

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oopskashish · 4 years

Text

The Cursed Boy

A/N: this is probably my favourite fic so far. I absolutely adored writing this and it was a brilliant idea, my love. Thank you for requesting it, I hope you enjoy.

Also this was requested by @findzelda who is so sweet and lovely. Thank you for putting up with me. I love you💖

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader

Summary: Sirius is cursed that anyone who would love him will get hurt or die. Would he able to break it or would he have to live with it forever?

Warnings: angsty, fluffy (very much so), bad parents, hopeless and sad Sirius.

“YOU INSOLENT FILTHY BRAT! BEING AROUND MUGGLES AND MUGGLEBORNS WILL DO YOU NO GOOD! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO YELL AT YOU TO TELL YOU TO STAY PURE! THIS IS THE MOST ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK FAMILY AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS DISGUSTING BEHAVIOUR OF YOURS!” Walburga screamed at her eldest son who was glaring back at her.

“YOU KEEP ON BESMIRCHING OUR NAME AND WITH THIS BEHAVIOUR OF YOURS YOU WILL END UP IN STREETS!”

“That’s a better place to be there than here!” Sirius yelled back at her.

Walburga took in a deep breath in and simply flicked her wand at him, casting a non-verbal hex on him.

“Anyone who will now love you in any manner will die or get hurt. This will show you your place.” Walburga turned around and left.

Sirius was left flabbergasted as he stared at the staircase in horror. It was no bluff, he knew it better than anyone. His mother was cruel as the grass was green during the spring.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom. He packed his bags, ignoring his quaking hands. He wiped his teary eyes and packed everything he needed.

He dragged the suitcase down the stairs, not caring about the noise it made. He was suprised that neither of his parents came out, but at least that was good.

Sirius entered the hall, where his brother was there.

Regulus looked up from his book and his eyes widened when he saw Sirius opening the drawer and searching for floo powder. His suitcase was all packed up, and he was carrying another bag which was filled to brim on his shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Regulus’ voice trembled.

“There is nothing left for me here. Be intelligent and run away while you can.” Sirius grumbled, and he finally found the powder. He took a handful and took all of his luggage to the fireplace. He stepped in there and yelled.

“POTTER HOUSEHOLD, GODRIC’S HOLLOW!”

He closed his eyes when he felt the familiar feeling of being twisted into the flames, opening them only when he heard the tape Mrs. Potter loved to play.

No one was there in the hall.

He was already crying when he got his stuff out of the fireplace. He heard Mrs. Potter come in. She wordlessly embraced him and let him cry on her shoulder.

Sirius sobbed till his throat felt raw and his eyes were stinging with pain. He had held Mrs. Potter tightly, as if she would vanish into the thin air. She consoled the cursed boy gently.

When Sirius parted away, he saw James standing beside his mother. The two brothers embraced each other.

“What’s wrong, padfoot?” James whispered.

“I am never going back again. Never.” Sirius says, parting away and he rubbed his eyes harshly.

“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish, Sirius. It’s always a pleasure to have you.” Euphemia says kindly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Euphemia led the two boys into the kitchen and made Sirius some tea. James said nothing to his friend but kept a watchful eye on him, knowing his friend isn’t ready to speak right now.

Sirius thanked her when she served him tea. He sipped it and felt the soothing warmth spread in his body.

Sirius kept the cup in the saucer and took a deep breath in.

“My mother cursed me.” Sirius whispered.

James eyes widened just like that of his mother. “What was the incantation, child?”

Sirius shook his head at her. “I dunno, it was non-verbal. But she said that anyone who will love me will die or get hurt.”

Euphemia muttered some profanities under her breath that could have made even pirates blush, let alone two 16 year boys.

“We will find a cure, don’t worry.” Euphemia tells him, giving him a gentle smile.

-/-

Sirius sat on the couch, stunned. He was aware of the watchful eyes of the Potters and the curse breaker who were staring at him speechlessly.

He let out a shaky breath as looked down at his lap.

“Excuse me.” He muttered and got up. Just as he was out of the room, he sprinted upstairs to the bedroom James’ parents had given them.

It was a nice room, a stark contrast to what he had in his parents’ house. The walls were coated in the cream colour and minimal neutral decorations were there in the room. The room felt so home like just like the rest of the house, unlike the house he grew up in.

James entered the room to find Sirius sitting on the ground, crying silently. James knelt down and hugged him fiercely.

Sirius held onto James tightly as if he was the last string of sanity he was so desperately clinging onto., He laboured to breath let alone get a sentence out. He couldn’t believe it.

James held his friend’s shaking body, consoling the best he can. His heart broke to see his brother, his best friend, like this. In all the years they had been friends, Sirius hardly ever cried.

The last time James had actually seen Sirius cry before the summer holidays was when a cat got hurt.

“We will figure something out, don’t worry.” James whispered.

Sirius parted away, wiping his tears. “How?” He whispered. “We have gone through so many books, contacted so many people and it’s all hopeless. I can’t see you with a new injury every single week! Your mum burnt her hand and your dad got hurt by a potion that exploded.”

James sighed. “We don’t care, we will do something and we reverse this curse. Believe me.” James pulled Sirius into another hug, knowing his friend desperately needed it.

-/-

Sirius entered the Great Hall along side with his friends, staying aloof from the group. He looked around and found a certain ravenclaw had her hand bleeding.

A few teachers were around and she was being escorted to the hospital by Professor McGonagall herself.

Sirius sighed when he watched Y/N’s tears before she got out of the hall.

Y/N Y/L/N was a Ravenclaw who could be easily mistaken for a Hufflepuff. She was nice to everyone in the year, even people like Evan Rosier or Lucius Malfoy couldn’t bring themselves to hate her.

Kindness was oozing out of her, and she was the crush of Sirius. It was not hard to fall in love with a person who was as lovely as her.

Born and raised into a wealthy family, she was down to earth and never spurlged her money on unnecessary things like Sirius’ cousins. Instead she would buy books, so many that all the marauders had to help her once to carry them.

“It was just so tempting to buy them!” She would justify. James would laugh at her as Sirius found it adorable. She had even given Remus the liberty to borrow any of her books anytime he wanted, which was rather rare.

He remembered how his friends had told him that she was in love with him. At first it was hard to believe that.

Why would an angel like her would fall for me? Sirius would wonder.

And if this was due to the curse, Sirius was going to kill himself if that’s what it takes to end it. He just can’t watch people he love get hurt.

Remus’ full moon have been going so much worse and Peter once got hurt by Moony on the full moon night. James had already fallen off his broomstick and had fainted.

It was cruel to watch people he love suffer.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to Remus.

“We will make it through this.”

Sirius nodded, pretending to be hopeful.

-/-

Y/N entered the classroom and looked around, searching for an empty seat. Her eyes lit up when she found the seat beside Sirius empty. She quickly walked in that direction.

“Hi Sirius.” She chirps.

Sirius looked up, suprised but then he concealed his expression with annoyance. “What?”

Her smile slips away as she blinked at him in utter flabbergast. Never have Sirius been rude to her even when he is angry. She looks down, not being able to look in his cold grey eyes anymore.

“I was just wondering if I can sit beside you, but obviously you don’t want me here. I’ll just go. Have a good day.” She walks away.

Her heart breaks when she didn’t hear him call out to her as she expected.

-/-

“Maybe he was just in a bad mood? Maybe he had a fight with James, he is always seeming to be avoiding him too.” Ellie, her best friend, comforts her.

“Probably.” She mutters. She looked up at the Black Lake, the rare sunshine was making the waters glimmer like diamonds. The spot where she sat with her friends was also very isolated from others, making the tranquility in the air hug her.

“There is Sirius.” Ellie whispers. Y/N follows her gaze and found Sirius just a little away from them, looking at the lake alone.

“I am going to talk to him.” She says, getting up.

“Best of luck.” Ellie smiles at her.

Y/N walks to him, making sure her footsteps are as quiet as they can be against the grass. She bit her lip anxiously, finding the right words before standing beside him.

“Sirius.” She whispers.

He snaps his gaze at her.

“I have noticed you have been rather alone. I thought you might want some company.” She says, smiling up at him hopefully.

Sirius scowled at her and turns away abruptly and struts away.

She watched him walk away to the castle, her heart slowly breaking into a thousand pieces just like his.

-/-

“James!” Y/N yelled in the corridors, running upto him.

James turned to her, smiling at her. “Hello, y/n, how are you?”

“I have been good, thank you for asking. How is your head? That fall from the broomstick seemed painful.” She says, eyeing the bandage on his head.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He shrugs. “Come along, I am going to have a walk by the Quidditch Pitch.”

Y/N nods and follows him, hugging her novel to her chest as they got out of the castle. They walk in silence till they reach a secluded area.

“So how do I have the pleasure to be blessed by your presence?” James asked in his usual dramatic tone.

Y/N chuckled a bit in amusement. “Well, I wanted to ask you something. It might invade your privacy a bit though, so I apologise in advance.”

James nodded, letting her continue.

She looked at the grass as she talked. “I have noticed that Sirius is being pretty aloof and, um, mean. Has something happened? I am very concerned about him.”

James sighs, coming to a stop and facing her.

“You deserve an explanation, you really do, but this isn’t my secret, love.” James says, running a hand through his ever messy hair.

She looked up at him, tilting her head a bit. “I am just very concerned, but okay, I understand.”

James sighs heavily again. “I will tell you but you can’t tell a single soul, please.”

“I promise I won’t.” She says earnestly.

“So you see,” James began, “Sirius was, um, cursed by someone that anyone who loves him will get hurt.”

She gasps.

“Or die.” He added.

“That’s so cruel.” She whispers, not even being able to fathom how lonely and terrible he must be feeling.

She was pulled into a hug by James, and she didn’t even notice the tears that were running down her cheeks.

“He has been staying away from everyone. And it’s pretty obvious that you’re in love with him.” James finishes, rubbing her back gently.

Y/N squeezed her eyes close as she hugged him back, tears still pouring out of her eyes.

How could someone dare to do this to Sirius? she thought.

She suddenly parted away, wiping away the tears by her hands. “I can help!” She says.

James looks at her sadly. “We have tried a lot, and we are not getting anywhere.”

“No James, you don’t understand. My godfather is the head of Department of Cursebreaking. If I call him here on the Hogsmeade weekend, he can come and help us out.” She says, her voice full of hope.

James lips parted in suprise. “Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“Of course not! He has a liking for me and he always tells me to write to him if I am in any trouble. He can handle this all, I am sure of that.” She beams at him.

James grins back and hugs her again. “You are wonderful.”

“Let’s go to the owlery and send a letter already!” She says parting away, and dragging him to the tower.

James’ grin couldn’t leave his face. Finally his friend would be alright.

-/-

“Do you see him?” Remus asks y/n as they, along with other Marauders minus Sirius, were looking for her godfather.

“He should be near Three Broomsticks.” She says, biting her lip as she looked around.

She smiled when she saw a man with jet black hair and bronze skin leaning against the wall, his hands buried in the expensive coat he was wearing. He also had a brown bag along with him.

“He is there!” She exclaims, rushing to him.

Her godfather smiled when he saw her and pushed himself off the brick wall and embraced her, kissing her hair.

“Hello uncle.” She smiles.

“Hi Y/N/N, how are you?”

“Just fine. How are you?”

“Brilliant.” Christian glanced at the boys. “You all must be Y/N’s friends.”

“Yes, sir. I am James, he is Remus, and that is Peter.” James says earnestly.

“Nice to meet you all,” Christian nods. “Also, please call me Christian. Let’s get inside the shop, it’s freezing outside.”

They all rushed into the shop and sat at a table, ordering four butterbeer and a firewhiskey.

“Oh, by the way, Y/N,” Christian says, handing her the bag, “for you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, opening peaking into the bag and she gasps. “All the works of Shakespeare! Uncle, you didn’t have to-”

“None of that, I know you love muggle literature and he is like the Merlin there or something,” He shrugs.

The boys exchanged a look at that.

Shakespeare wasn’t a Merlin of muggles, but they didn’t care to correct him.

The drinks were served and the talk began.

“So, Y/N, why did you call me here?” Christian asks, sipping his whiskey.

“Uncle, one of my friends has got cursed. Could you please help him out?” She asks him.

“Of course I will. What curse was it?”

“Christian,” James began. “He was cursed by someone that anyone who will love him will get hurt or die.”

Christian’s eyes widened at that.

“And who used that curse?” His voice was now grave.

“We are in no position to tell you that, sir. I mean no disrespect but we can’t disclose that without our friend’s consent.” Remus says.

Christian nods.

“Understandable. The use of that curse can results into one way trip to Azkaban without trial. It is hard to break, not impossible but hard.” He nods.

“Oh.” Y/N mumbles.

“Can I meet this friend of yours?” He asks James.

“Of course, he is in the forest right now. I can call him here.” James offered.

“No, that would waste a lot of time. If we two go there, it’ll be faster.”

“I am coming too!” Y/N exclaims.

“And me.” Remus adds.

“Me too.” Peter says.

“Very well, then.” Christian sighs, knowing that ressurecting the dead is easier than convincing anything to teenagers.

The five of them then made their way to the forest, while Christian asked the boys generic questions.

What do you wanna do later in your life? Ah, auror? Excellent. What about you, Remus? A professor, lovely. Mind it that students only get worse with time when it comes to mischief.

Y/N paid half a mind to the chatter and was more focused on finding Sirius. She caught a glimpse of the raven haired boy who was dressed in an expensive coat, no shocker there, kicking a few pebbles around.

“There he is!” Y/N exclaims, and rushed to Sirius without waiting for the rest of the group.

“Sirius!” She calls out for him.

The said boy turned around, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sees his friends and a strange man.

“What?” He asks, in a gentler tone than the one from their previous encounters.

“So, mate,” James began sheepishly, “I, um, told Y/N about the situation-”

“YOU WHAT?”

“She deserved an explanation, you know it bloody well. And she found a way to help you out.” James says, a bit scared due to the outburst of his friend.

“We have already talked to some curse breakers and they said it’s impossible.” Sirius snaps.

“Who said that?” Christian raises an eyebrow.

“Mr. Henry Jones, sir.” Sirius answered.

“Jones isn’t that advanced curse breaker. He is good for the common curses, but the one that you’re suffering with, he wouldn’t be efficient in dealing with that. However, I can help you break this curse.” Christian answers.

“You can?” Sirius blinked in astonishment.

“Of course, I can. I am the head of the Cursebreaking department. However, we would have to do it tomorrow. I would need another wand to help me with it.”

“I can help!” Y/N exclaims, blushing when everyone turned to her in surprise.

“I won’t doubt your skills, love, but I need someone professional with me.” Christian smiles kindly at her.

“Oh, okay.” She murmurs.

“Sirius, can I please have a word with you in private?” Christian asks.

“Of course, sir.”

The two walked away from the group, Christian keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings. They reached to a secluded area.

Christian takes his wand out and flicks it while Sirius looked at him curiously.

“I don’t want anyone eavesdropping.” Christian answers the unasked question.

“I want to know who did this to you.” Christian says, sitting beside him on the rock.

“I can’t tell you that.” Sirius says, looking at the ground.

“Sirius, this curse is against the law and is a part of the dark magic. I can’t let go of this problem without arresting the one who caused it. You will be safe, I will assure you that. I can provide you security too, if you want.” Christian offers.

“I am sorry, sir, I just can’t.” Sirius shakes his head.

Christian sighs. “Was it a member of your family?”

Sirius nods solemnly.

“I can already make guesses, child, since I know a few people of your family well enough. But I respect your silence. If you change your mind, don’t forget to contact me.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sirius says sincerely.

“Of course, Sirius. I just want to tell you one more thing.” Sirius nods. “All of us need love to exist, and you’re no exception to it. You deserve love just as much as anyone else on this planet. Don’t forget that.” Christian got up and offered Sirius a kind smile.

“I won’t forget it, sir, thank you.”

Christian didn’t miss the tear that slipped away from his eyes but decided to say nothing.

-/-

“Moony, take everyone else away.” Sirius whispered in his friend’s ear as they all walked in the hallways of Hogwarts after their trip.

“Best of luck.” Remus gave him a smile before dragging away James and Peter to Gryffindor common room.

Sirius offered a hand to Y/N who happily accepted it and was led away by the gryffindor boy to a secluded hallway.

“Y/N.” Sirius whispers, not being able to look in her eyes. “I am so terribly sorry for being so mean to you these past weeks. I just wanted you to fall out of love with me. I couldn’t bear to watch you get hurt. I am so sorry.”

Y/N cupped his face and made him look at her. “You don’t have to apologise for anything, Sirius. I understand and I would have done the same if I was in your position.”

Sirius looked at her as a storm of whirling emotions was taking over his body. He was grateful, upset, happy, excited, aching, and feeling a thousand emotions all at once, and it was suffocating almost.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you did.” He whispers, stepping closer to her.

She smiled at him. “You don’t have to thank me either, I couldn’t bare the sight of you in grief.”

“I am convinced, my love,” he looks into those tantalizing eyes that he dream of most of his nights, “that you’re an angel.”

Bashful peonies bloomed in her cheeks as heat was taking over her body. She couldn’t help but hug him tightly, her hands around his neck as his went around her waist.

“You deserve love, Sirius.” She whispers in his ear. “I want you to know that you deserve so much love that you’re exploding with it, so much that you’re drowning in it willingly. You deserve the love that makes universes collide with one another. You deserve that is powerful enough to ignite the sun. You deserve it all, Sirius. All of it.”

Sirius couldn’t comprehend how could someone have so much love, and that too for him. He wanted to take those words away from her and morph them into a jewel and make it a locket that he would wear even after death, which would rest near his heart to remind him of this moment until the time ends.

Sirius blinked his tears away, as he pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. “I have no idea what I deserve in this world, but I do know that if I want love, I want it from you and no one else.” He whispers, cupping her face as if she was the most magnificent creation of the gods, which to she indeed was.

According to him, gods must have spared several infinities to ponder and create her. Each part of her was weaved in the threads of gold and unparalleled jewels that Sirius could not name. He was certain that Aphrodite herself must have blessed her to be the most enchanting human being.

“May I kiss you?” He whispers, looking at her lips which he so desperately wanted to kiss.

“Yes, please.” She whispered back.

The two of them lean in and their lips brush against one another, and they felt the real magic that no wand can produce. Only together could it be produced.

They could barely think of anything but the divine feeling that was filling their lungs instead of oxygen. The sweetness of it invaded their veins and it danced along with their blood.

It was that moment they found it, they can’t find this kind of love anywhere but in each other. It was the kind of love that created life. It didn’t need words to describe itself, for the words could barely capture a sliver of what it is.

Y/N parted away, heaving as she leaned against his shoulder, her eyes shutting close to feel the love he had for echo in her soul. Sirius’ lips however trailed their way to her neck and started softly kissing her there.

“Will you be mine, love?” He asks her in a whisper.

She gave him a smile that made him question the definition of ethereal he was told by his elders.

“I have always been yours, darling.”

-/-

Y/N was waiting anxiously along with the three Marauders. Sirius was with Christian and another curse breaker named Matthew. All of it had been discussed with Dumbledore by Christian and they were granted permission to take Sirius to the ministry where the things would be executed more efficiently.

“He will be alright.”

“James whom are you convincing, yourself or us?” Remus snorts but James pay no mind to him.

Y/N was pacing in their dormitory, James was tugging at his hair, Remus was relatively calmer than others but he was still fidgeting, and Peter was stress eating a batch of cookies his grandmother sent him.

Y/N stopped when she saw the door in front of her open up and a beaming Sirius came in. She immediately rushed to him and flung herself at him.

Sirius caught his girl and hugged her tightly, kissing her hair. “It worked.” He whispers just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“HELL YEAH!” James whooped.

Y/N pulled Sirius into a kiss, ignoring everyone else. It was a slow kiss that slowed down the time along with it. They were both blissfully wrapped up in feeling stars explode in their bodies to look at others.

Sirius soon pulled away and kissed her forehead before going and hugging his friends. James had tackled him on the floor due to sheer happiness that was practically lighting up the room.

His brother was alright and that’s what mattered to him right now, and nothing else did.

After Sirius was done hugging everyone, he fell on the bed.

“I am bloody exhausted and I am going to sleep.” He announces before looking at Y/N. “Please cuddle me.”

“Whipped.” Peter mumbles as Y/N laid on bed beside Sirius who pulled her to himself and was clinging to her like a Niffler clings to his gold.

“We are leaving, too much PDA for my liking.” James announces and takes his two friends with him to the common room.

Sirius didn’t respond to them and only nuzzled his head in her neck, kissing the skin there before sighing.

“Thank you, my love.” He whispers.

She shuddered seraphically at the feeling of his lips against her neck. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do, you bloody well know I do.” He whispered, holding her closer as his eyes were beginning to shut. “But we will talk about it later. All I want is to sleep in the arms of the most ethereal girl in the world.”

Y/N kissed his hair and smiled. “I love you, Sirius.”

He smiles. “I never get tired of hearing those words or my name from your mouth.”

“I adore you, Sirius and I will say it till my last breath.”

He hums and pulls away a little, kissing her nose.

“Will you sing me a song?” He asks.

She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t sing.”

Sirius pouted and tilted his head a little. “You won’t sing for me?”

She hums, pretending to think.

“On one condition.” She plays his curls which made him grin.

“Anything.” He replies eagerly.

“You have to kiss me.”

“My pleasure.” And he leaned into another breathtakingly enchanting kiss, confessing their eternal love by the movements of their lips.

-/-/-/-

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