#so...of course they were given to anne?

[fideidefenswhore]

What do you think about the whole Anne wanting the christening robe from Catherine that she brought from Spain?

The Lady, not being satisfied with what she has received already, has solicited the King to ask the Queen for a very rich triumphal cloth which she brought from Spain to wrap up her children with at baptism (en temps de la tesme (?) qu. baptesme?), which she would be glad to make use of very soon. The Queen has replied that it has not pleased God she should be so ill advised as to grant any favor in a case so horrible and abominable.

Chapuys to Charles V. (July 1533)

So, I mean...there's no record of this response, or any letters, that corroborate this incident? And there should ostensibly be a few, right? At the very least the letter requesting it and the letter of refusal.

All that's left, really, is to argue for the likelihood based on what we know.

Against: Anne doesn't seem to have wanted reminders of Catherine around? She didn't like that Henry's shirts were being made for her by that reason, it's theorized she "could not abide the sight" of monkeys because they were Catherine's favorite pets, etc.

Moreoever, the argument Borman has made that this was a symbol of legitimate royal blood, I mean...sure, it definitely was, but it was passed down through the Trasmataras? It seems strange that Anne would request it as seeing her future child as an extension of that dynasty, actually, it makes like...no sense. Had the christening robe been one used by Henry and his siblings, perhaps his mother and theirs, and for some reason Catherine had this in her possession, then it would make sense.

And doubly, the argument Henry was making at this time was that his children by Catherine could not have even be bona fides, because the marriage contravened divine law. So, the christening robe, as far as their perspective would have went, would actually be associated with illegitimacy (since it was used for the children of Henry and Catherine), thus asking for it would be contradictory to the beliefs they espoused, as would the imagery of that symbol.

Since it doesn't make any sense even as far as symbolism goes, if Anne requested it, the gesture could only have come from a place of cruelty and pettiness. There's reports of Anne being petty and cruel, so that does nothing to disprove anything, really. In this vein, Elizabeth Norton states that Anne “spotted  an opportunity to continue her persecution of Catherine”.

So, maybe the argument can be made that the request was not even so much a symbol of power and legitimacy, as it was that the robe was said to be very beautiful and Anne thus wanted to use it? With perhaps the added benefit that some of her detractors might recognize it and seethe, Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne

For: Anne did, if memory serves, take several items from the inventory of Catherine's goods and used them in her household, as did Henry. I have the quote of these items from a biography saved somewhere, I would have to find it, I can't remember if they were sort of more generic, utilitarian objects (gilt pitchers, that sort of thing) or if there were any that displayed Catherine's actual symbols. Either way, this demonstrates that Anne was not that adverse to reminders of Catherine surrounding her, so lends credence to the claim made by Chapuys here.

[aefensteorrra]

I have the opportunity to spend a month in Michigan this autumn and that should be an easy decision (go! especially before I have more responsibilities) but it’s not

[agroteraa]

Never Be Like You

Felix Catton x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: AU where Saltburn's ending never happened. Felix lived happily up to 2016 (and on), where he met you at your new job. Meaning he is around 29 here and you are younger.

Yes, a fic based on THAT Jacob Elordi edit

Using the song "Never Be Like You" by Flume feat. Kai

Shout-out to Kasey @kcsvids ❤️

Tags: fluff, implied slow burn, AU.

Word Count: 3,8K

Early August in London this year was quite rainy, but fortunately, the day you had to go around the city with the documents turned out to be surprisingly sunny and pleasant. It was the second month of your new job.

The bell on the door in the coffee shop tinkled as you went inside in search of your senior colleague, whose errands you had been running for half the day.

"Annabel, hi! I’ve signed the documents, made copies and notarized them. Here are the originals in the folder, and here are the copies," you said, sitting down on the opposite chair and rummaging in your bag, taking out all the necessary papers.

"Oh, thank you, Y/N! I expected that you would only have time to pick up the documents, and you have already done everything! Cool, you're doing great!" the girl smiled at you, and then added, "Our new capable young employee."

She said this to a young man in a colored seemingly expensive shirt who was sitting relaxed close to her on the couch and drinking coffee. He looked at you with a smile while Annabel was having a dialogue with you and complimenting you on the work done. God. This was the guy from your job, whom you saw rarely and from afar, but you really wanted to know more about him. You didn't even know his name because you were too shy to ask, and besides, you didn't talk close yet to people in your new place.

"Felix. Felix Catton," he introduced himself, extending his long arm across the table.

"Y/N," you answered a little timidly, shaking his hand. His fingers were no less long than the hand itself, and his palm was warm, "Um... Y/N L/N."

"Okay, I have to run, bye, Ann," the guy kissed her on the cheek, threw some money on the table and smiled at you again, "It was nice to meet you, a new capable young employee."

Young. Not that young, it was your second full-time job after graduating from the university, but of course you were younger than the two of them. Annabel, as far as you knew, was almost 29 years old. Felix was probably about the same age, it was hard for you to tell. It seemed that he could be aged from 23 to 33, given that he looked so youthful and lively.

"So... does he work for our company? It seems that I saw him in the office, but very rarely..." you tried to find out information about this man from Annabel as casually as possible.

"Yes, Felix has... a more of a free schedule. His father is a co–owner of the company. So, he is not particularly worried about being a worker of the year. However, it's not like I live at work either," Annabel began to tell you openly. It seems you had already realized that she was also a pretty laid-back person, "So… What are you ordering?"

Despite your protests, Annabel ordered and paid for you coffee and lunch anyway, and then continued, "We studied at Oxford together. You could say he helped me get a job here later."

Oh. You got it. It seems that the picture in your head had finally begun to take shape. It became clear to you why some people worked hard from early morning till night in the same office as someone came at lunchtime at best and generally behaved as if they had known each other half their lives. Because that how it was. Many of them were Oxonians, and had known each other since the university, and some even from boarding schools. Of course, you also received a decent education, but it was nothing compared to Oxford. But this was also often not only about education, but also about lifestyle in general. Your family was not any close to be called poor, but still it was not comparable to this level of life, and you were able to get a current job only because of your hard work and probably decent amount of luck.

You felt a little sad at the thought that for them you probably were a girl who came out of nowhere and did the paperwork, and it was very possible that you would remain that way in their eyes. In Felix's eyes, in particular. That was how you imagined his life as a golden boy, who was apparently at this stage of his life employed in his own parents' company, where he did not need to make any effort to stay there and at the same time receive a round sum of money. Usually it also led to a certain lifestyle.

While Annabel was stirring her coffee with a spoon, you noticed an engagement ring on her hand, which you didn't seem to notice before or just didn't pay attention to.

"Oh... can I... congratulate you?" you asked, barely hiding your awkwardness, "Is it... Felix?"

"Yes, thank you… What? Felix?" the girl laughed, "No. We used to date back at the university, and after that… Well, now we are not. I can't imagine Felix as a fiancé or husband. To be honest, I don't think he can either. He's a pretty free spirit, let's put it this way."

You exhaled and nodded, on the one hand satisfied with the answer, and on the other hand you were upset and got into thinking even more. Yes, it seemed that you two were different, too different, and it came to be clear in just a half an hour on a lunch.

But that didn't stop you from thinking about him anyway for the whole next month. He still rarely came to the office, but now he nodded and smiled broadly if he saw you. You even chatted briefly a couple of times in the hallway and over a cup of coffee in the office kitchen. You still didn't know what he really was like, but he seemed nice and friendly, even though he was always in a hurry for somewhere else. Or someone else. You couldn't help but still look forward to these short meetings.

And that how the autumn came.

"Well, lucky you, Y/N – it seems that a small anniversary of three months of your work here coincides with our seasonal party," sipping from her cup, Annabel informed you, "Once in a season we go out somewhere with the whole team. Well, to be more exact – with the least boring group of people here. Come with us? We're thinking of going to a club this time."

You willingly agreed, pleased that you were invited to this party. After all, it was not for nothing that you'd been Annabel's indispensable assistant, helping her out all the time. And, to be honest, you did a lot of her own work for her. And also you hoped that you and her began to get closer in personal level, even though you were quite different, it was still quite a fun.

Week later, you were hurrying along the streets while looking at the navigator where exactly the club that Annabel was talking about was located. You were late because you spent a lot of time on dressing up and doing makeup. You wanted to make an impression and you were a little nervous. Nervous because all this time you were wondering if Felix would come or not. You were worried about both scenarios, but you still wanted him to come first of all, even though you had no idea what and how should happen next.

The place greeted you with loud enough but pleasant music and colorful lighting. Your colleagues were sitting on the sofas nearby. Annabel waved cheerfully, "Y/N! We're here! Hi! Yes, you're not even the last one, so make yourself comfortable."

You greeted everyone who was sitting. You felt quite awkward, because you didn't communicate with everyone at least on the same level you did with Annabel, but you hoped that the evening would go well and that you didn't come in vain. And it turned out to be quite alright, but anyway, part of your thoughts was roaming whether Felix would come or not.

"Okay, guys, and now we'll drink to the Y/N! She's been helping me a lot lately. Y/N, I hope this is just the beginning of your work with us!" Annabel toasted.

"To a new young capable employee!" said a velvety deep voice behind you. You turned around. Felix stood behind, dressed in a white shirt and jeans. He had a shot glass in his hand and he had some kind of red cowboy hat on a rope behind his neck and back.

You all clinked drinks together and then started to sit back down on the sofas.

"Hello, Y/N," Felix smiled broadly at you, "Glad you were invited too."

"Oh, Felix, where have you been?" your colleagues began to ask him as he sat down with them and began to tell about being stuck in another club and then getting through traffic jams here to you all.

"Unexpectedly. I thought he wasn't coming, huh," you said softly to Annabel.

"Why wouldn't Felix come to the party? It's not like going to office meetings, you know," the girl chuckled.

You continued to chat with Annabel this evening. Felix, unfortunately, did not approach you, and seemingly had fun chitchatting with all the people on the couch in front of you, although he kept glancing at you, so it seemed to you. But maybe it just seemed, because you had been drinking for the first time in a long time, and your head was already starting to feel a little dizzy.

But over time, your interlocutor talked more and more about her own with her long-time colleagues and friends, until she almost completely forgot about your presence. You began to feel gradually lonely in this company. Maybe you were right. A girl from nowhere who couldn’t even afford too many drinks in this place in central London, who was helping Oxford graduates who were, are and will be fine, with paperwork they weren’t really willing to do. But it was better to splurge on another drink than to sit and think all these thoughts.

Walking through the crowd to the bar, you stood in line and chose what to take for yourself. Something strong, but not very expensive, if possible.

"You have a small anniversary in our company today. It should be celebrated," a pleasant voice spoke softly almost in your ear. Turning your head to the side, you found Felix, who was leaning almost his entire body against the counter. He had definitely had a drink and was even more relaxed and cheerful than usual, "It's all on me, of course."

You protested a little, but Catton quickly dismissed all objections, taking two drinks for you at once and one glass for himself, "And this is about time you tell me how do you find the work here with us, where you came from and generally about yourself."

You headed back to the sofa with drinks. Since the path was laying through the dancing crowd, and you had two glasses in your hands, Felix held you protectively, placing his hand on your back and guiding you through all the people, making sure that no one would touch you. The feeling of his big warm hand on your back, on your skin, half-opened due to the design of the dress, definitely excited you and gave you goosebumps.

Some people from your company, including Annabel, was already gone to the dance floor, so you sat down on an empty sofa together and started talking. It was very uneasy and unusual for you to see Felix so close to you, also in such an informal setting. His big brown eyes looked at you attentively while you talked a little about yourself, about your education, how you got a job at this company, what you were doing here and who you started communicating with. What dark fluffy eyelashes he had. He was so handsome. You blushed a little and got embarrassed, but still, because of the abundance of information that you had to tell him, your brain was a little distracted and calmed down.

"That's great, Y/N. You're so... hardworking. And, apparently, you’ve achieved a lot on your own. That's very cool," Felix nodded with a serious face.

"Well, I haven't achieved anything special yet that I would really like, but thank you for the kind words. It's great that you're interested in your future subordinates."

"Oh, so you know? Well... we'll see about that. My dad is a co–owner of the company, but not the owner. So, it's not at all a fact that I'm going to manage over here," Felix was a little embarrassed and cleared his throat, "And I don't know what's going to happen next, I don't guess into the future for that long… Maybe I'll go abroad somewhere, like I've already done before, huh."

Then Felix began to tell about some parts of his own life - a little about his childhood, about studying at Oxford, what he did there and where he went later. He was quite modest and obviously tried not to emphasize his fabulously luxurious lifestyle, but this was the kind of thing that could not be completely kept to oneself. This manifested itself even in behavior and appearance, not to mention the stories.

But you liked, you really did like talking to him. With all that said, Felix Catton had a talent for making you feel like you were welcome, that you were no worse than him, that your lifestyle was no less boring or less important when he wanted to grant his attention. Even if you were completely different. You were listened to very attentively.

Due to this feeling, combined with his appearance and charisma in general, you were ready to never get up from this couch, if only your conversations would last forever.

But the forever ended quickly when Felix's friends yanked him onto the dance floor. Friends, and maybe not only friends. It seemed that many female colleagues and just a lot of the girls nearby were staring endlessly and smile charmingly at him in the hope of getting more of his attention. Of course, you could understand that oh so well. But all the same, you were upset that your chances were probably much less than those of all his acquaintances in his circle. Even if it was just about a sort of a close communication.

You finished your second drink and went to get another one. While you were standing in line, one of this year's hits started playing in the hall. A gentle female voice began to tell her story:

What I would do to take away

This fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain

Now I fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

I would give anything to change this like-minded heart

That loves fake shiny things

Now I fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

You couldn't take your eyes off Felix, who was having fun in the middle of the crowd – he was giving himself up to the music, dancing to the beat. Green, blue and sometimes purple spots of light slid across his face and his clothes. How graceful and natural he was now, as if he had been born on the dance floor.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

Felix completely broke up and went dancing at the pole jokingly. You didn't know if he was already so tipsy or just so relaxed naturally to that extent, but you couldn't look away with your mouth slightly opened. He was holding onto the pole with one hand, and with the other he was waving in the air, also swinging his hips.

How do I make you wanna stay

Hate sleeping on my own

Missing the way you taste

Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

Stop looking at me with those eyes

Like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why

Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

Your heart sank. Even though this song was about trying to bring back an existing relationship, it still somehow resonated especially with you right now. Particularly the line "Never be like you", which seemed to repeat your thought, which you carefully tried to hide from yourself tonight. You would never be like Felix.

The crowd gathered at the bar gradually pushed the gawking and not moving you closer to the dance floor, where Catton noticed you.

"Hey, Y/N, why are you just standing there so lost? Join me," the guy said cheerfully, slightly pulling you by the hand closer to him.

You started dancing together, he put on his red hat on to make you laugh a little. He was smiling widely, swaying from side to side bewitchingly in front of you.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

His white shirt was unbuttoned now, apparently, he had been hot for a while. Beads of sweat gathered on his skin and disappeared with him in the rays of the strobe light from time to time, which shone behind his back. In such lighting, it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion, and that was all a beautiful movie in which you accidentally fell into the place of the main character. But it wasn't a fantasy, it was your night right now.

I'm falling on my knees

Forgive me, I'm a fucking fool

I'm begging darling please

Absolve me of my sins, won't you

You wanted this moment to last forever. And unlike the conversation on the couch, it really felt like it was happening, like in a dream that no one dared to break. You were drowning in his magnetic gaze and smile, which he was giving only to you now. He was like Prince Charming of the 2010’s.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

Baby, baby please believe me

Come on take it easy

Please don't ever leave me... oooh

Never be like you

You mentally repeated the last lines of this song until your face itself took on a slightly pleading look. Felix seemed to catch it and touched your shoulder. His lips parted in the desire to say something, but he just stood there for a few seconds in silence, as if considering what to say and do next.

"... by the way, you look great today. I mean, your office looks are cute too, but this… You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said after a while.

You smiled sheepishly as you continued to dance, drifting back into a musical and slightly alcoholic trance until it was interrupted by several of Felix's friends and your colleagues.

"Buddy, we've going home," the guys shook hands, and then started talking about some of their business. You moved a little to the side, and as soon as you did that, Felix slowly began to be surrounded by familiar and not so very familiar people. You went for a cocktail, and then headed to the couch, where you started talking to a colleague of yours. You kept glancing in Felix's direction at the same time, but he still didn't come up, engrossed in talking and some dancing.

After saying goodbye to your colleague, who also left, you finished your cocktail and finally decided to check your phone. Oh. You didn't know it was so late. You started looking for a taxi, but it costed a lot right now. Confused, you sat alone, staring at the screen and sucking from a straw a mix of melted ice and a cocktail from the bottom of a glass.

"Please pardon me for leaving you for a while," the hot hand laid on your back and then its owner appeared behind it, who plopped down on the sofa next to you. He looked at you with slightly regretful doe eyes, "Are you... leaving already?"

"Yes, it's very late, and there's a lot to do tomorrow… But the taxi is still expensive, I guess I'll wait a little longer."

"What are you talking about? I'll get you a car right now," Felix took out his phone and began to quickly type something on it.

"Oh, come on, don't..."

"Hey. We're celebrating your anniversary at work, our new best employee. Have you already forgotten?" the guy interrupted you, grinning, "Tell me your address, please."

You gave your address, Catton smiled slightly.

Five minutes later, a business class taxi pulled up to the club. You just went outside, and the warm air of an early autumn night pleasantly enveloped you after the hot and stuffy nightclub.

"Is this really my car?" you were amazed. Felix turned his head to the left and right, and then, leaning over, said in a serious tone, "I don't see any exactly the same beautiful girl waiting for exactly the same taxi, and do you?"

You giggled and blushed noticeably. There was a pause hanged in the night air.

"Thanks for your company, Y/N. I'm glad you're with us now. I hope we'll see each other more often from now on."

You looked him straight in the eye, and then nodded slightly and slowly.

"Good night. Please text when you... Ah..." Felix rolled his eyes at himself, "I don't have your phone number."

He looked down, shaking his head and chewing lightly on his lip. A knot tied in your stomach. Felix. Catton. Asked. You. Your. Number. It might had been more of a common courtesy, of course, but your heart started beating a lot faster anyway. Of course, you dictated your phone number to him, which made him full of ill-concealed joy. Having recorded it in his smartphone, he said, as if nothing had happened, "Yeah, great, now I have a place to text to find out how you got home," and put you in a taxi.

He gently touched your shoulders once more when he put you in the car. He pressed his lips almost weightlessly to your ear, "Good night again, Y/N. Thank you for this evening," his mumble was very warm and pleasant, you felt your hair rising on your skin.

Watching the taxi leave, from which window you looked at him back, Felix lit a cigarette. He was smiling widely and contentedly, exhaling smoke and slightly twitching his whole body on the spot from another surge of energy. He was obviously going to attend the work more often from now on.

[justauthoring]

the winner takes it all.

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )

warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader

“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”

Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown. 

“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.

“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”

Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).

“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction. 

But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.

It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.

It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.

Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—

And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.

Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”

The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.

Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.

“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.

Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.

Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something? 

Had Sebastian misread everything?

The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—

“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling. 

“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.

It was obvious where you were.

“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”

Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.

The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.

I win.

Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.

It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.

The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.

Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.

“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”

Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”

Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”

“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”

Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague. 

Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”

“—She’s been poisoned!”

Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.

“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”

Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it. 

Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”

Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”

Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”

For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.

A moment passes.

“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”

Anne grins; “exactly.”

“What?” Sebastian cries.

“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”

The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.

“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”

Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.

-

Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.

Where were you?

Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.

You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.

“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.

He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.

“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!

Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”

“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”

“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”

Stunned, you let her words register.

Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.

“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.

“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”

Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”

The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”

But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.

“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”

Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”

“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”

“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.

I win.

“Now, Mr. Prewett.”

Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.

The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”

Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”

“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”

His words bring comfort, even if a little.

“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”

Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”

Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.

Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.

“I’m sorry.”

Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”

You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”

Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.” 

Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.

He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”

You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”

“Jealous.”

He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.

“Incredibly jealous.”

You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”

He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.

Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”

You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”

[ultralightpoe]

Rubies Hidden With Blood -Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: Hello, thank you for the patience while I am on a writing break. I’m still trying to figure out life and how to fix it, but I channeled some of the pain and anger into this and I hope you like it . I hope you are all staying safe and healthy out there in the world - Ultralightpoe

Warnings: mentions of executions, adultery, foul language

Word Count: 4996

MAIN Master List

Description: Inspired by Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth. (INSPIRED. You are not either of them you’re a character inspired by them)

(Thank you for the gif @onemillionyous )

x Enjoy! x

To Anne Boleyn, who spent the last month of her life preparing for the rest of her daughters life to the best of her ability. Every stitch and warning given was noticed.

And to Elizabeth, who spent the rest of her life hiding footprints for her mother in a home that had tried to strip her memory.

To the bond of the two, never truly understood.

-

You stood, stiff and freezing in the cold weather, on the very steps your mother walked up the day she was executed. A message you were very sure your father intended, one that you would not cave into. 

Verlain, your fathers hand, stood to your right with a grim expression as he did his best to stop looking to the stained spot at the top of the steps. Where her blood had leaked down, seeping into the stone in a mark that would be there forever. It would be centuries before her death would be forgotten, a fact that sent a wave of nausea through you, gripping you in its fierce hold as you tried to inhale some fresh air. Fighting to keep the tears welling in your eyes at bay as the corset constricts against your ribs. 

Breathe. Keep your wits about you. 

“Are you feeling alright, your highness?” Verlain asks, eyebrows pinching together as he watches your hand slide across the front of your dress, as if you could ease the ache in your ribs and lungs from rubbing it. His tone slips at the last two words and you have to bite back the bitter laugh, not willing to risk your breath on it. 

A moon ago you had been nothing more than a bastard to this court, upon his orders. Anyone within earshot of his majesty knew that the forsaken daughter of the castle whore would be painted a bastard the rest of her life. 

The second her body had been carted off he had your handmaiden pack you up, sending you both to an estate far off, so that he would never have to look upon your face again. 

“You haunt me! You plain cunt! You HAUNT ME!” He had yelled the day you begged, the day you crawled to your knees begging him to keep you. Of course you haunted him, you had her face. And whether he had to look upon you or not you were sure she haunted his every move. 

She surely hadn’t visited you since she passed. There were no ghosts in the offwood estate. This castle, however, had more than you could dare keep track of. 

But you hadn’t seen her. Whether you should be thankful for that had yet to be seen. 

“Princess?” Verlain asks again, taking a step up, getting closer as he extends a hand to you. “Prin-“ 

“Don’t call me that.” You sneer, slapping his hand away from you and readjusting the veil that covered your face. Even with your back turned to the spit you could still see her blood on the stone, gulping quickly. Don’t look. Don’t. Look. 

But Verlains eyes cast behind you to the stain, his neck showing an audible gulp before he guiltily looks back to you. “Princess, I never got to speak with you after-“ 

“I’m not your princess.” Your tone was cold, and you made a show of shooing him away. “And you should mind yourself, Lord Verlain. If his majesty catches you this close he might think ill of the intent.”

Verlains face pales, the man stepping back so quickly he nearly slips on the steps before turning back to the courtyard below, fixing his embellished attire. 

You missed being a bastard. A bastard would never be sold off like this. 

There was a war brewing, and many of the kingdoms were beginning to panic for alliances, this kingdom included. And there was one ally that everyone wanted, the seven kingdoms. Westeros. For there was truly no war that could be won against them. 

You’d never seen a dragon, and if this was any under circumstance you would be excited. But this was your very own death march. Or as your mothers own prophet had claimed “you’ll earn your mothers reckoning.” 

There was an ax somewhere out there with your name on it….. or maybe the jaw of a dragon ready to chew you up. 

Before you could much more on it a firm grip snatches the back of your neck, pulling a gasp from you as it pulls you to them aggressively, the smell of wine filling your senses. “You step a foot out of line today and I’ll have your head just like I had your fucking mothers. You hear me, bastard? I’ll spike in on a fucking post.” 

You can only nod, afraid that if you give a verbal response you might whine in pain, and you refuse to show him that weakness. He takes your response, letting go before moving to speak with Verlain as your older sister and little brother stand off to the side. 

The best way to secure an alliance was through marriage. Your older sister couldn’t be married off since she was already married to a lord, and your younger brother was the heir to the kingdom, not to mention the Targaryens didn’t have many girls to marry off. 

But they had Aemond Targaryen, the rumored demon of Westeros, with one eye and the largest dragon. 

So you were renamed a princess, one that would be able to marry a prince. 

Princess of whores being married to a prince of monsters. If your mother could see you now. 

Bile rises up your throat as the memory of her face flashes through your mind, your eyes once again welling with tears. Stop thinking about her. Stop stop stop stop stop.

The heavy sound of thunder pulls your attention, blinking slowly as you try to peer through the veil to see the storm on its way, only to see clear skies. Confusion fills you as your brother gasps loudly, and then you see them, a hoard of dragons filling the skylines as their wings flap in unison . Not thunder, dragons. 

Nausea fills you once more, and yet your mouth goes dry, fists clenching into the heavy skirts of your dress as you spot the older dragon riding in the back, a blur of long white hair flying with it. 

And you know without a doubt, your future husband has arrived. 

- 

“Listen to me.” She sobs, falling to her knees before you as you cry out, the banging on the door scaring you even more than her tears. “You need to listen to me.” 

“Where is papa?!” You scream, your mothers handmaidens rushing around the room as she pulls your face closer to hers by the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together. 

“Listen. To. Me.” She seethes, wiping your tears with a swipe of her thumb. “Breathe. Keep your wits about you. I need you to remember that these people are not your kin. They are not yours. They will not protect you.” 

“Mama-“ 

“And your father is not- do. Not. Trust. Your. Father.” 

“Mama please-“ 

“You need to remember to breathe. Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And?” 

“Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And…. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. They cannot break me.” 

“Good. Good girl.” She sobs, reaching to kiss your forehead, her lips holding there for a long moment as the door to your mothers apartments break open and the guards storm in. 

The handmaidens pull you back quickly, right as your mother shoves something in the top of your dress before they are on her. There is no gentleness in the way they grab her by her hair and drag her out, and there is no gentleness in the grip the handmaidens keep on you as you claw and bite to get to her. 

By the time they are out of sight there is nothing left but her shoe that had fallen as she was dragged out, and what she had hidden in your dress. 

Your mother had been taken. 

- 

Aemond was sick of the wind, a feeling he never thought he would get and yet it has arrived. He was ready to land, get a break from the beast below his thighs and have a meal that hadn’t been dried and shoved into a satchel last week. 

His mothers boat stayed below them, his eldest sister's dragon taking the lead of their travel in the front as his uncle stuck to her right. Aegon, a spoiled brat through and through, was left in Kings Landing to act as King Regent as Rhaenyra traveled with them. 

Helaena and Jacaerys keeping him in check. 

But his brother had gotten under Aemonds skin just fine before they left, whispering rumors about his future bride in drunken slurs that made him both angry in a protective manner and angry in nervousness that the whispers might be true. 

“They passed her mother around the court like a toy to their whims, and when she was used up they killed her and replaced her with her daughter. You’ll get nothing but a rag dear brother.” 

The kingdom they flew to now had always been secretive within itself, and word rarely left it’s shores. The only thing anyone really knew is they had an army of soldiers that had yet to be conquered, who wore gold armor and spoke in ancient whispers. 

He is snapped out of his haze as Rhaenyra signals to land, and Aemond takes a moment to rejoice in the feeling of his feet on soil, focusing on that the entire hike up to the castle with his mothers arm now looped into his as Vhagar and the ship are left at the docks. 

“Don’t be nervous.” Alicent Hightower whispers, reaching a hand to swipe at his cheek, humming in discontent before licking the pad of her thumb and swiping his cheek once more. He groans, trying to pull back. 

Even if she meant well he knew his mother never understood how painful the skin near his eye was. The scar was always pulling and swollen, not to mention how hard the eye was to clean if the patch moved even the slightest bit. 

“I hear she’s beautiful.” Lucerys offers, keeping close to his own mothers side. “You saw her painting!” 

Indeed Aemond had, and like a lovestruck fool he had stared at it for hours until it was time to go. The very painting now sat in his chambers, waiting to be hung for after the wedding…. If there was to be a wedding. 

His chest tightens as the castle steps come into view, multiple figures dressed in their finest clothes standing among them. 

In the front, in the most ridiculous frille of red and gold, stood the king. A smug smile laced on his features as an overly large crown stands on his head. Beside him with her arms crossed primly was a younger woman, wearing a smaller tiara of red rubies and a busty gown that he was sure Aegon would have leered at, smiling from ear to ear. 

The king and his 5th wife then, and behind him a bit to the left on an upper step, had to be Verlain. The hand to the king. 

Two more figures a bit further up, one clad in a light blue dress, rubbing at her stomach softly as she watched with nothing more than a nervous expression. Making eye contact with Aemond for just a moment before her face goes red and she looks away, disgust at himself rising in his chest. 

What will my future wife think? He wonders, panic clawing at his throat. Will she refuse me? Will I truly be so ugly?

Before he can take a closer look at the boy beside the pregnant woman he looks over to…. You. Standing a little further to the right of the rest, obviously not really knowing where else to go, with a veil covering your face and wearing a gown of black and red. The long petticoat skirts held within your hands, the long bell sleeves barely covering your hands and the cape connected to the back of the dress making you look every bit pristine. 

The first thing he notes is the lack of jewelry. No rings, no crown or tiara, no bracelets. An odd thing since the rest of your family was completely adorned with anything they could find. 

“Queen Rhaenyra.” The king smiles, bowing his head the slightest inch, a fact that has both Aemond and Damon straightening. A slight to Rhaenyra, he was sure. “And her traveling companions. We welcome you.” 

Aemond risks another look to you as Verlain extends a hand to help you descend the stairs. He can’t hear anything of what anyone is saying as he watches you, heart thumping through his chest at your every movement. 

“-and this is my daughter.” The king mumbles out, his tone tightening at the phrase daughter as you bow gracefully, neck going low as you curtsy need to Rhaenyra then greet the rest of the party in correct order. Before he could say anything you lift the veil and his breath catches. 

The oil painting did you no Justice. And within moments he found himself yearning to trace his fingers over your cheek as he had done to the painting to see how the softness would compare. 

“And this is my brother, Aemond Targaryen. First of his name, rider of the great Vhagar and-“ 

“It is an honor.” The king interrupts Rhaenyra, your cheeks tinging with blush as your jaw tightens. You must know your father is being disrespectful then, and at least one of you has the decency to be embarrassed. 

“As much as I love flattery,” he begins, not tearing his eyes from you. “I’d prefer if you showed my sister more respect. Last person to disrespect her so had his head sliced through the middle.” 

Daemon has the audacity to check his nails for dirt as Rhaenyra sends him a knowing look, his mother tightening her hold on his elbow in approval before moving to you. 

“It is an honor to meet you.” She holds out both hands, which you calmly place your own above as you watch her, and Aemond sees the skepticism glint in them. The narrowing of them as your nose scrunches. “Your beauty was surely understated. Don’t you agree Aemond?” 

“Indeed. But to be fair I don’t think any painting or letter would ever do you justice.” You don’t say anything, merely bow your head in feigned shyness while the crowned woman behind you speaks up. 

“They say she has her mothers complexion.” She giggles loudly, and your spine tightens quickly. “May the child be blessed with the one good thing about her-“ 

“You’ve had a long journey. I’m sure your hungry and we still some final touches on this alliance. I trust you find my daughter to your liking?” There that tone is again, like he is disgusted to call you his daughter. 

“Of course. We accept the marriage proposal, let’s feast and forge out the rest of the details.” Rhaenyra nods, allowing Daemon to help her up the stairs as the king leads them inside. 

Aemond is torn between offering his mother his arm or you, desperate to touch you but not wanting to seem like the type to leave his mother. 

Lucerys is there, offering his arm and drawing the first actual smile from you, a wave of anger filling Aemond at the sight. “Might I escort you to dinner?”

“You may escort me up the stairs, but unfortunately it would be improper for me to join dinner.” His mother snaps her attention to that, watching you as closely as Aemond already had been while Lucerys leads you up the steps. 

They both watch as you look in the opposite direction of where you are walking, keeping your face turned away from one particular spot. 

“Is that…. Blood?” His mother gasps, and Aemond can do nothing but stare at the large stain of it, blinking slowly as the sun hits the dial at the top of the staircase. 

It was clear that this had been set up as a stage at some point, the message still stained into the earth. 

He doesn’t answer his mother, instead he helps her up the steps as he follows the rest of the group. 

-

He was angry. It was the only thing he could register, the anger. The rest of it was numb, the blade that took his eye had made sure of it. No love, no happiness, no remorse. He just felt anger. 

It burnt through his throat until he had no choice but to scream, tore through his chest like acid as he raged to relieve some of it, his sword swinging at anything he could. 

The posts on his bed were the first to have been attacked, the broken canopy it once held brutalized and torn in the corner. The desk was next and he even took a hot poker from the fire to shatter the mirror in one swift move. 

Every move was sheer force, every yell was an attempt to ease him, every slam of his fist and kick of his feet an instinct he could not fight. 

Where was the justice? 

People avoided looking at him now, whispers following him everywhere he went. Females outwardly laughed and gasped at him, acting as if he was a demon that had clawed from the shadows.

“Aemond.” Alicent tries, her hands folded against her dress as she watches her son rage within the walls of his room, feeling useless. He was in pain and there was nothing she could do. “Aemond please.” 

“I DONT WANT TO BE HERE! THEY THINK IM A MONSTER!” 

“Aemond-“ 

“KILL ME! KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME!” He rages, picking up the sword once more as she takes a step back, the tears falling from her eyes. She knows he would never, he was forged from steel itself, but the fear consumes her as she calls for Cole. Sobbing. 

“Help him.” She pleads, hearing the old dragon roar in the distance as Aemond shatters under the pressure. 

“It hurts.” The boy sobs, falling into the glass of his once mirror. “It won’t stop hurting!”

Cole nods, without a word he heaves the boy up, dragging him out and across the glass until they clear the room. His grip is brutal, even Aegon tries to stop them when they pass him in the hall. 

“Where are you taking my brother?” He snaps, standing straight, the soberest Aemond has ever seen him. 

But Cole doesn’t answer, and when Aemond trips the armor pinches into his skin as he is hefted back up until they make it to the training yard. 

“You want to die? Earn it.” Cole snaps, picking up a sword. He doesn’t warn his strike, Aemond barely has a second to dodge as the blade swipes at him, falling to the mud quickly. 

The wetness of it seeps into his clothes, staining them as his fingers dig in to crawl to the weapons to defend himself. 

He remembers the feel of the earth in that moment, latching on to that anger once more as he stands to fight.

- 

You weren’t allowed at the feast, a fact that Aemond finds suspicious as his Uncle moves around the room with his hand on his sword ready for an attack, making eye contact with each servant there. Everyone was on edge, this entire ordeal one that screams trap. 

“Might I ask why the bride will not be joining us?” Rhaenyra breaks the silence, fixing herself in the chair given, nodding to the rest of her party to sit as well. 

“After the events of her mother…. It’s better if she doesn’t join us.” The king answers, casting a look to Daemon. “She mourns her mother. Taken too soon from an illness.” 

The air around them turns pungent, the sign of a lie fallen flat. Lucerys casts him a side look, his thick eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the king raises a glass to toast. 

“To the blessed union of our families.” Everyone raises their own glasses before taking a sip, but not Aemond, he sets his glass down and looks around the room some more while the conversation is struggling to be picked back up. 

“Those are lovely pearls.” Alicent tries, doing her best to ease some of the tension. 

“Oh thank you.” The young queen giggles, leaning forward. “It’s out of fashion out here ever since-“ 

The king slams his hand upon her own, a bang emanating from the wood. She flinches, but tries to smile through it and Aemond feels a rage fill him as he imagines you having to do the same thing before. Is that why you chose not to eat with them?

“Pearls are…. Out of fashion out here.” Your sister fills in the silence, “the woman at the court tend to avoid them.” 

“Speaking of.” Verlain smiles. “I have some things packed and ready to be transported. Gifts from the royal family to yours as a part of the arrangement. To be presented on the wedding day.” 

“I just hope there will be room for all of us aboard that ship of yours.” The king smiles, though Aemond sees right through it. 

“I can assure you it’s quite big. What a lonely ride it was here, while the others rode dragons. I am looking forward to the company on the way back. I do hope the bride fares well in the sea.” 

“I believe my sister to be excited for it.” The pregnant once smiles, the first real smile from this table. 

Aemond says nothing, picking up his goblet and draining the liquid in one easy go. Even the wine here tasted shit. Lucerys laughs under his breath when a pig is set on the table and when Aemond turns to glare thinking the jest is to him he finds that the young queen was using her cutlery to check her appearance. 

He leans closer, Lucerys following his lead. “I hope that my future bride is not too attached to her family. For if I have to spend a second past the wedding with them I might just-“ 

Alicent slaps his shoulder quickly, making him sit up as Lucerys snickers. Whether he got to finish his sentence or not the message had been delivered. 

- 

She spent the last month of her life trapped in a tiny room, with nothing but a bed and a small window barred to keep her in. Her chamber pot was changed once a week and she was allowed one handmaiden. 

But she tried not to let it craze her, pouring herself into preparations for the future ahead of her. Everyday followed the same routine. 

In the morning she was brought to a chapel within the castle where the minister would pray with her, and every morning he would ask her if she had any sins she’d like to pray forgiveness for. She never did, for she remained adamant that she did nothing wrong. And she could withstand the scalding look the man gave her each time for his opinion did not matter, she knew her truth. 

She spent the days seeing, ordering dresses and adjusting them. Day after day. Ordering dress after dress, a small gift her lord husband had allowed her. If she were to die then at least she would die well dressed. 

But the dresses weren’t for her, she didn’t pour over every stitch for herself and she didn’t hem each one to perfection for her own vanity, for she knew the second this was over for her that her daughters life would be ruined. 

She would prepare as much as she could for her daughter, she was a mother and she would not fail her even in her last moments. 

Meanwhile you begged and pleaded for her back, crying into your sisters arms as she held you, rocking you back and forth. 

Your father hadn’t come to see you since she was taken, and you weren’t allowed at court, soon enough even your sister was denying visits. Left alone with your handmaiden until the fateful day. 

Verlain, one of your fathers men, came to the door and excitement filled you when you saw him. He had always been so kind and often stole sweets for you when no one was looking, but that morning he didn’t smile. 

“I thought she might want one more friendly face with her.” He explains to the handmaiden, who has tears in her eyes as she nods. She pulls you away and prepares you, lacing your corset and dressing you in black before taking your hand and leading you through the halls. 

“Are we going to see-“ 

“Shhh. Don’t say a word.” Verlain warns, trying to keep his voice soft. “Not today little lamb.” 

You nod, reaching to grab his hand as well as they lead you to the courtyard. You remain in the back, with a good view of the steps, still holding both their hands. 

Your mothers group of handmaidens stood to the side of the steps, all looking worried and most with tears falling down while someone hisses at Verlain. 

“You brought her kin?!” 

“The king demanded she be here.” Verlain answers back, something like grief crossing his face. “To witness.” 

And witness you did. 

You remember it well, the silent scream that clogged your throat and the way you tried running for her. You had fallen when Verlain pulled you back, your fingers digging into the mud as you tried to crawl to her with all your strength as the blood poured down. 

After you had been dragged, kicking and screaming, to your chambers you’d been thrown in by the guards. The first person allowed access to come and see you had been your mothers main handmaiden, one you hadn’t seen at the execution, who you would later learn had reported your mother falsely. 

She did not hug you, she did not coddle you. The only thing she asked was “your mothers necklace? Have you any idea where she hid it?” 

You told her no, still crying, feeling betrayed. 

She left soon after. 

A week after that you were forced to kneel before your father as he stripped you of your title and your lineage. “You are her daughter and nothing more. A bastard in the eyes of the faith and the crown.” 

You sobbed and begged him not to, crying over and over “papa!” 

He screamed at you, slapping you across the cheek so hard you sprawled across the stone. 

That night, your last night in the castle, you sat by a singular burning candle as an unknown phantom gently traced the bruise, singing softly to you as you waited for your mother to appear to you. 

If there was anyone who would use your gift you were sure it would be her. 

But she never came, and you were sent away, and soon the castle was scrubbed of her memory.

- 

Your last night there was spent exactly the same as years ago, a fresh bruise adorning your cheek from your fat- his majesty, and you sitting by a candle and waiting for her. Silently pleading for her ghost to appear. 

“Come on mother.” You whisper, waiting. “Just one more time before I meet you in the afterlife. Please.” 

She does not show, and when the sun begins to rise you are escorted from your rooms down to the docks were your luggage was being loaded. 

“Is this all you have?” Lucerys, the name he introduced himself with yesterday, asks and you nod. 

“Not much is provided for Basta- for brides to be.” He takes your lie, smiling before you curtsy and allow him to run and catch up with his mother and father. 

“I hope you will be okay with entertaining my mother for the journey.” An even voice fills the silence, your heart lunging through your chest as you turn to see the prince. You thought he was gorgeous, desperate to reach a hand out and see what was under the patch. 

You refrained of course. 

He, however, seemed unable to control himself as he brought a hand up to the bruise on your cheekbone. His fingertips tracing over it ever so lightly. 

“How does he have black hair?” You ask, desperate to get the topic away from your cheek before it can even start. 

“It’s…. A long story.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Might I escort you to your chambers on the boat.” 

He holds out a hand for you to take, and for a moment a pitch of fear fills you. Don’t look don’t look don’t look. 

But you can’t stop yourself from turning to those steps, and seeing the blood among them for the last time. Once you’re gone that’s all that will be left of her memory, and that tears a hole through your soul. 

She shouldn’t have to be alone here, but you were sure that you would find her soon enough, there was no way you would ever survive the Targaryens. It was the only reason your father would ever bother to accept this at all. 

So, ignoring the white haired god beside you, you turn fully to the steps and bow properly. “Until we meet again.” 

Your tears sink into the dirt, in the exact spot you once crawled, and when a breeze hits your cheek you can do nothing but lift your head to see her. Standing at the top of the steps, bowing back to you. 

Tears fall quicker, and your throat stings from it as you turn to grab the princes still outstretched hand, and as the last remnants of the second queen fade the last memory of her is lead away to the docks, clutching the lost necklace tightly in the pocket of a dress she once sewed. 

And you know, that just as your mother once did, you would meet your fate with your head held high. 

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. They cannot break me. 

But you hadn’t quite known what Kings Landing had in store for you, no one had expected it really.

(It's been a minute since I wrote something like this and this is the first time in months that writing hadn't felt like a chore. I hope you enjoy it!)

Part 2.... maybe?

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Josephine Baker:

Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.

Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.

She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.

So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry

Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

[spaceyaceface]

Losing Patience

Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Request: Ominis is sick of seeing his best friends pine for each other, so he forces them to get together. Requested by @scrambled-eggs-y

Warnings: None :)

Also available on AO3

Ominis Gaunt considered himself a patient young man—he had, after all, been friends with Sebastian and Anne for several years. He knew all too well the weary sighs given by professors and peers given after one or the other had done something irritating. His reserve of patience was tried even more when a certain girl joined the vacancy Anne left in their fifth year—it was incredible; he’d used to think that there was only a certain amount of trouble the students of Hogwarts could get away with. Y/N quickly surpassed what he had once thought were the limits. Her and Sebastian were a wonderfully horrible pair. It was fun to watch, really—when they weren’t meddling in Dark Magic, of course. 

But time had passed and the pair had gotten off the dark path they’d been traveling down. Ominis was grateful for this, obviously, but it seemed that the two had chosen a new, almost as horrible path—one that was finally testing his deep well of patience. 

The idiots had fallen in love with each other, and were too stupid to admit it. 

It was sickening, the way they flirted with each other, always toeing the edge while never stepping off it. It had been that way for nearly a year now—it hadn’t taken long for him to catch on. There were inflections in their voices reserved solely for each other, soft tones they used when they thought no one else was listening. One of them just had to take that leap of faith, through themselves off the edge and into the arms of the other that were desperately waiting for them. 

He knew that each of their hesitations stemmed from similar things—both were ridiculously stubborn. Sebastian held fast to the title of the most stubborn person Ominis had ever met. Y/N was a close second. Both were insecure. Y/N was more obvious in this trait, feeling like her status as “Hero of Hogwarts” was beyond her, while Sebastian hid this a bit better. But Ominis knew his oldest friend well. 

Somehow, Ominis found himself stuck between the two of them yet again, listening to them bicker like a married couple as they practiced their charms. 

“Sebastian, the movement is more circular, you’re doing it too boxy, it’s not—”

“This is exactly how I’ve been doing it since second year, I think I’d have figured it out by now.” 

“Oh really? Then why isn’t it working, hm?” 

Ominis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never going to get a moment of rest with the two of you.” 

Sebastian chuckled. “What fun would that be?” Ominis heard an unsatisfied hum. Sebastian must have tried the charm one more time, once again failing to get the desired result. 

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, Sebastian, give me that.” Y/N leaned over Ominis, grabbing the lock Sebastian was practicing on from the table and placing it in front of her. “Alohamora,” she said, and her spell was followed by a distinct click signaling her success. Ominis could only imagine the satisfied look she was sporting. “Too boxy, see?” 

“You know full well I’ve done that spell right thousands of times,” Sebastian whined. 

“So what is it that’s throwing you off?” Y/N gave an over-dramatic gasp. “It’s my stunning good looks, isn’t it?” 

“More like your horrid spell. Seems like someone was off feeding her hippogriffs before class, did you step in dung or something?” 

The three of them stood up after hearing Professor Ronan dismiss them. Y/N took the opportunity to shove Sebastian’s arm. “I smell wonderful. I know for a fact you like my perfume, you git.” 

“I—shut up, I’m not a git,” Sebastian said, voice a bit tight. “I’ll take you to Hogsmeade this weekend to prove it. You, um, and Ominis.” 

“Fine then,” Y/N said. There it was, that hint of disappointment Ominis knew all too well. 

Idiots. The both of them. 

Ominis tuned out the rest of their conversation as they continued down the hall. At that moment, he made a decision. He’d get them to confess—they likely wouldn’t be any less insufferable once together, but that stupid tension would be gone. 

It was Ominis’s turn for a bit of mischief. 

—-----

The next time Ominis found himself alone with Sebastian was that night in the common room. Y/N had gone up to bed after they had all snuck back from the Undercroft, and Sebastian was just about to do the same when Ominis called after him. 

“What?” Sebastian asked, a bit puzzled. It wasn’t like Ominis to keep him up late.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Ominis said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. 

He heard Sebastian shift uncomfortably. “And what is this something?”

“Y/N.” 

Sebastian took a moment to reply. “Is… is something wrong with her? Are you worried about her? I didn’t think she was acting off, did I miss—”

“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, Sebastian, this is exactly why I need to talk to you about this,” Ominis said, exasperated. 

“Well, if you could enlighten me, I would much appreciate it,” Sebastian spat back. 

“I have never seen you this worked up about anything,” Ominis said. He let out a low chuckle. “Honestly, it’s a bit pathetic. Would you please just get on and tell her how you feel? It’s infuriating.” 

“Hang on, are you implying that—”

“You’re helplessly in love with her? Absolutely.” He smirked. “Though I know for certain it’s much more than just implied.”

Oh, what he wouldn’t have given to see Sebastian’s face at that moment. He could only imagine the fury, the disbelief, it must truly have been a sight to behold. “I’m not… Look Ominis, even if I was… interested in her that way, I would never tell her.” 

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same.”

Ominis scoffed and pushed himself off of the wall, standing in front of Sebastian. “You two flirt more than you breathe when you’re around each other.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Sebastian said defensively. “That’s just how we are. As friends.” 

“Right,” Ominis said, tone sarcastic. “The two of you are truly duller than I realized. You’re the blind one if you can’t see how she feels about you.”

Sebastian stormed up the stairs to their dorm room without another word. It seemed that he wouldn’t get anywhere with him. Though perhaps with Y/N…

He considered it lucky that they had History of Magic together the next day. She continued taking the class because though Binns was an abysmal professor, she found the subject itself interesting. Ominis took it because it was a great class to nap in. 

He wouldn’t be napping today, though. When he took his seat next to Y/N, he whispered to her. “Tell Sebastian you’re in love with him yet?”

Y/N jumped in her seat, used to Ominis being asleep in mere moments of sitting down. “What—what are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. He’s too coward to say anything himself. Would you please do the honor and admit it to him so you two could get a move on?” 

She leaned down to whisper as Binns droned on. “You know full well that Sebastian is a flirt with everyone. He doesn’t feel that way towards me.”

“So you do fancy him.” 

She huffed, clearly regretting her words. “I’m not telling him. It would ruin our friendship.”

“Isn’t that what you want? To ruin it?” 

“Ominis, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to pummel you with my textbook.”

Ominis frowned, laying his head down and taking a troubled nap. 

—-----

There was a new tension in the air that afternoon. Things between the three of them were… strained. Ominis guessed that by planting the thought that they might have their feelings returned, both of his friends were stuck trying to overanalyze one another. It created a whole new dynamic of overly polite words and gestures. It. Was. Awful. 

For a little bit, he thought this might be it—he could have pushed them close enough to the edge that they had no choice but to leap, but as the afternoon stretched on, he realized he had gotten his hopes up too soon. 

As he listened to Y/N shyly thank Sebastian for holding the door open for her for what had to be the tenth time, Ominis was about out of his mind. He knew that despite the shift in their behaviors, they were no closer to admitting their feelings to one another than they were yesterday. 

A plan formed in his mind. It was stupid, really—but he figured idiotic friends called for idiotic measures. 

“Before we go to the common room, could we make a quick stop?” Ominis said, hoping they’d be willing to follow him. 

“If it’s quick,” Y/N said. Sebastian didn’t argue. 

He kept them chatting with small talk about classes and essays as they walked around the corridors. It was enough to distract them from thinking of his location. Finally, they stood in front of a supply closet, one he and Sebastian had hid in a few times during their early years of sneaking around the school. 

He opened the door and frowned, humming in disapproval. 

Y/N came to stand by his side. “What’s the matter?”

“Not sure. Could I borrow your wand for a moment?” Ominis asked. Oh God, please let this work. 

He heard the shuffle of her robes as she pulled it out, handing it to him. Too easy. “Why?”

Ominis grinned wickedly. “Oh, no reason.” 

Before either of his friends could react, he shoved them both into the closet, Sebastian giving a groan of discomfort as he hit the far wall of the tiny room. Ominis stood in the doorway, smiling at them. 

“I’m not opening this door until the two of you sort yourselves out. You know what I’m talking about.” He slammed the door shut and charmed the lock, leaning against the wall beside it with a sigh. 

—----

When the Ominis closed the door, the pair found themselves enveloped in darkness.  It took Y/N a moment to process her situation—she was locked in a dark room, without her wand. Oh, and Sebastian was there. She jolted forward, realizing she had been leaning back against him, pressing him between her and the wall. His chest had been warm against her back. She was glad it was dark in there. 

She pounded her fist on the door. “Ominis! You prick, let us out of here!” 

Sebastian joined in her shouting. “I swear Ominis, if you don’t open the door I’m going to—” 

He didn’t get to finish his threat, interrupted by the snickering on the other side of the door. Y/N groaned. “He’s not letting us out.” 

Sebastian shifted in the small space, pulling his arm forward apoligizing as he brushed against Y/N’s shoulder. There was hardly room to move in there. She shuffled around facing him right as he said, “Lumos.”

She slammed her eyes shut at the bright light blinding her from the tip of his wand. “Merlin’s Beard, Sebastian.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lowering the wand a bit. She tried to look up at him, white spots dancing in her vision. Godric, he was close.

He frowned slightly. “I still have my wand. I can try unlocking the door.”

“Well, you did prove abysmal at that spell just yesterday, but go ahead.” 

He tried, to no avail. Y/N took the wand from his hand, insisting she try herself, but it still didn’t work—the wand didn’t want to cooperate with her. There was more snickering from outside of the closet. 

Y/N groaned, laying her head back against the wall behind her. “Bloody Hell,” she said.

Sebastian leaned against his own wall across from her. “Now what? Do you… know what Ominis was going on about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled. 

Sebastian sighed. “It really doesn’t seem like we have a choice.”

Silence settled between them. It went on for several moments before they both started talking at once.

“I guess I should just—”

“Well, there’s no getting around it—”

They both shut their mouths, staring at one another. “Um,” Sebastian said. “Ladies first.”

“No, uh, you go first. I insist,” she responded. 

He sighed in defeat, arms folded across his chest. He looked away from her, focusing on the corner of the closet’s ceiling. “I… know what Ominis is getting at by locking us in here. I suppose I’m rather… fond of you, and I guess that it’s driving him mad—”

“Fond?” she asked. “Why would that be driving him mad, we’re friends, of course you would be—”

“Ok, fine, fond isn’t the right word for this. It’s um, well it’s more like I’m in love with you.” His eyes met hers for a brief moment, before dodging away again. 

Despite the nerves bubbling up in her stomach, she couldn’t help but start to smile. “Like you’re in love with me?”

He looked down at her again, and upon seeing the smile on her face, he kept his gaze there. “Not like,” he admitted. “I am. I’m completely mad about you, Y/N.” 

She took a step forward as he unfolded his arms. In that small space, that was all it took to be a breath away from him. “That’s good,” she said softly, smile widening. 

He leaned forward, grinning down at her. “Really?” 

“Really,” she said, hands resting on his shoulders. “Because I’m in love with you, too.” 

His lips found hers in an instant, his large hands coming to settle on her waist in an effort to pull her even closer. The first kiss was short, interrupted by the smiles they both wore. But then he leaned down to kiss her again, and oh Merlin, were his lips soft as they brushed against hers, begging for more as he tasted her. His fingers dug into her waist, and—

The door of the closet banged open, light flooding down on them. 

Ominis smirked at the both of them. “There we are. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She flushed, glad her friend couldn’t see the state of them both. He set her wand on the ground beside the door. “Right, well I’ll leave you two to it. As a thank you, I expect you not to snog around me.” 

Ominis turned and left. Sebastian looked back down at her, face red, but smile wide. “We were in the middle of something, weren’t we?”

Y/N grabbed her wand and slammed the closet door shut once more.

[allthelovehes]

Field Day Reunion* | Part 2

Summary: Harry finally takes Y/N home when Charlie is with his grandmother for the night.

Pairing: Singledad!Harry x Teacher!Y/N

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Lovemaking, oral f receiving, eager babies, exes to lovers?

A/N: I imagine Harry and Y/N to be British in this universe, so they went to highschool from age 11 - 16(ish) and college from 16 - 20(ish). Idk why but I felt the need to specify haha ENJOY LOVES

Harry and Y/N agreed to take things slow for the sake of Charlie. This means that they have been going on dates every now and then, but not every weekend because Harry doesn't want to just drop off his kid at Anne's, so he can go out with this woman. That doesn't mean however that they don't see each other.

Y/N started teaching Charlie's class a couple of weeks ago. Ever since then, Harry sees her every day because he is the one who drops Charlie off at school and picks him up later in the day. Those little moments are filled with loving glances and private jokes but also Harry teasingly flirting with the love of his life.

Yes, Harry is absolutely smitten by this woman. Given their history, he now believes that he shouldn't have let her go back then. Yes, being high school sweethearts who are going to different colleges isn't the perfect scenario for two love birds. They didn't want to do the long-distance thing when they were only 17, but Harry now knows it would've all been worth it.

He doesn't regret their decisions though. If the two of them never broke up, Harry would've never become a dad to Charlie and he wouldn't want to miss him for the world. The kid is his life, he'd literally give everything to see that little cheeky smile on the four-year-old's face.

Anne was a big fan of Y/N when they were teenagers, she was the sweetest girl so of course she approved of Harry dating her. So when Harry told his mom how Y/N is now Charlie's new teacher she was excited, to say the least. But when he told his mother that they had been on a date, her heart was filled with love. She was rooting for his son, finally meeting that happiness he was so dearly craving.

So, from the moment Harry announces to his mom about him and Y/N taking it slow, Anne has done anything in her power to help Harry out. Taking over babysitting duty whenever she can and just keeping the little boy out of her son's way. Hinting at her son how she's free next Saturday, in case Charlie wants to come play at grandma's house. Just, everything.

And that's exactly why, this afternoon, he decides to take his mom up on that offer. Harry and Y/N have been on four official dates so far and not once has he taken her home. It felt a bit too forward, too soon. But today was different, Harry invited her over to his house, show her around and make his intentions very clear, she's a keeper.

“Char, come on. Put your shoes on, grandma is waiting for you.” Harry tells his son, picking up the overnight bag he packed for his son.

“Where are you going, daddy? I wanna go too!” The little boy cries, pouting at his dad with such innocence.

“I'm sorry, buddy. But you are staying with grandma.” Harry explains to his son, feeling a bit guilty. But he also didn't want to specify anything about his plans for today. See, Charlie is the biggest fan of Y/N at school and it warms Harry's heart to see him so fond of her. But that only gives him more reasons to keep his love life in the shadows for his son.

“But why?” Charlie whines, but knowing it's already a lost battle, he slips on his shoes in silence. Harry shakes his head, suppressing a giggle. Once a kid starts asking why, you know there is no ending to the discussion.

“Let's go, Char.” Harry states instead, dragging his boy out of their house and into the car.

After he drops Charlie off and Anne's, he drives straight back home. His heart pounding with nerves. He'd be lying if he said that he isn't a little bit anxious right now. He hasn't had a girl over for years on end, not in this context. And he's really hoping she's going to want to stay over. He told her to bring an overnight bag, just in case she wanted to stay. He also mentioned how Charlie is sleeping at his mother's place, hoping it would send the right message, but he wasn't quite sure.

When he arrives home, he finds Y/N just parking her car a little further down the street. She's on time, more like half an hour early. Harry lets out a nervous giggle and he hopes that it isn't too obvious that he's anxious right now.

“Eager much?” He jokes as soon as she reaches his front yard. She giggles slightly embarrassed and Harry simply wants to kiss that cute blush off her face.

“I didn't want to run late. Traffic, you know.” She explains, a small smile gracing her face.

“Relax, babe. I'm glad you are early, actually.” Harry smiles sweetly, pulling her in for a quick hug and placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Y/N lets out a flirtatious giggle, getting on her toes to press her lips on his. Harry instantly melts into the kiss, holding her tightly against his chest.

“C'mon, let's go inside.” Harry whispers, pulling away a bit hesitantly. Y/N softly nods in agreement and Harry loosens his grip on her, only to grab her hand and guide her inside. “Welcome to our home.”

“It looks lovely.” Y/N compliments, letting her eyes roam around the living room. You can tell by the way his space is organised that Harry is a neat person, the room is filled with all things the father and son love dearly. A nice TV hangs against the wall, some family pictures are scattered around the wall above the couch and the wall across the room holds shelves filled with movies, video games and records. It's all Harry and it takes the man's breath away knowing that she likes his place.

“Thank you.”

“Let me give you a tour.” Harry says, tugging on her arm and guiding her through his entire house. She had already seen the small hallway when she first entered the house, and a glimpse of the living room, but there is more. There is an open kitchen concept which leads out into the backyard with big sliding doors. It's really neat and pretty, every one of the rooms in the house has little Harry vibes. The house screams family home, it suits Harry really well.

When they finish the tour downstairs, Harry hesitates to show her his upstairs living space. He feels like taking her upstairs is something very intimate, maybe even too forward, yet he would love to show her around. With an unsure glance at her, Harry points his finger to the stairs, silently asking if she wants to continue the tour.

Y/N nods softly and gives him a sweet, yet excited smile. “Let's go, I'm very curious.” She says causing Harry to chuckle and they continue their walk through his house.

“Okay, so this is Charlie's room and his bathroom.” Harry explains. Y/N takes it all in as if he's giving her the time of her life. Harry is beyond grateful because he really does love her and he hopes that she is going to melt into their lives and live here one day.

They move over to the other side of the hallway, Harry gestures at the next room, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously. Y/N opens the door carefully when Harry speaks up. “This is uh- my room.” She pushes the door open further and carefully walks inside.

“This is very you.” She giggles when he walks in after her. Harry doesn't know why, but a blush creeps up his cheeks. Y/N isn't mocking him or making fun of him, her giggle sounds very fond, maybe she is just as nervous as he is.

The bedroom is decorated with warm colours and it features a king-sized bed that looks comfy and cosy. Y/N's gaze is glued to the bed, no doubt in her mind that she'd like to sleep in a bed like that. Especially if that means Harry would be right next to her.

She doesn't ponder her thoughts for too long because she knows that it will end with an almost unbearable aching between her legs.

When they dated in high school, they were only 15 years old. So sleeping with one another was out of the question. They kept dating until they were 16 and 17, but it still didn't feel right for them at that moment to take that step. Now that they are both adults and they want to take things a bit more seriously, Harry would like to finally take the next step in their relationship. Maybe tonight.

“Uhm- so behind you is my ensuite.” He points to the door behind her, gesturing at it with a little nod.

“Oh my.” Y/N's attention is immediately turned to the door when Harry mentions it. She slowly opens the door, stepping into the big room. It's modern and clean, and oh so spacious. There's a walk-in shower and a big tub next to it.

Harry just watches her in awe as she explores the bathroom. She almost seems mesmerised by his place and that makes his heart flutter. It's like she belongs in here and it is her house.

Y/N makes her way back to Harry with a dreamy look in her eyes. She wraps her arms around Harry's neck and pulls him close. She sighs. “Your home looks very lovely, Harry.”

“Not as lovely as you.” He blurts out in a weak attempt at flirting, but it comes off a bit nervous so he might have failed miserably.

“You're cheesy.” Y/N giggles. Harry tightens his grip on her waist and pulls her impossibly closer, flashing her a dimpled smile. Y/N leans in and lets her lips softly brush his in a very gentle kiss. Harry immediately melts into the kiss, tilting his head down to kiss her deeper, but she abruptly pulls away after only a second.

“I- uh- I'll go put my bag in this room, if that's okay?” She asks and Harry crooks his head to the side.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Depends on what you're thinking.” She winks and pulls away from Harry.

“That you are going to stay over.” Harry flashes her a flirtatious smile.

“Exactly.” Y/N nods in agreement, a smug smile on her face and a glimpse of hope flashing in her eyes. “If that's still alright with you?”

“Of course, you don't have to ask.” Harry reassures, making her grin widely. He squeezes her hand for a second and then releases her hand, letting her step away and put her bag in the room.

Harry is beyond excited now, hoping for them to take their relationship to the next level. If they hadn't broken up back in high school, Harry might've even proposed by now. Yeah, he'd love to be married to her one day. But maybe it's too soon to be thinking about marriage, he remembers how it felt to be with her, back when they were only kids, hopelessly in love. He wants that back, now more than ever. ***

Y/N comes back downstairs to see that Harry is already making dinner. He greets her with a wide smile and places a soft peck on her lips.

“Mmh, what's that smell?” She asks curiously, leaning on the counter in the kitchen and watching Harry move around confidently.

“You, I reckon.” He smirks. Y/N lightly shakes her head, failing to hide her smile. “I'm making you pasta, love.”

“Mmmh, my favourite.”

“I know.” Harry smiles proudly.

Harry lets her know how she can pick a wine if she wants, and where she can find some glasses. She of course doesn't miss the obvious fact that Harry has planned everything ahead. That certainly turns her on.

They eat in a comfortable silence, their ankles playfully tangling with one another. Harry does the dishes while Y/N takes a second in the living room to scroll through her phone. As soon as the kitchen is clean, Harry joins her on the couch. He lifts her legs, placing them on his lap and letting her lean into his side.

“Charlie was a little upset to leave.” Harry says all of a sudden. Y/N chuckles, knowing just how clingy that four-year-old is to his dad. She finds that unbelievably adorable.

“Is he going to be mad at us?” She asks, not knowing how to proceed. She doesn't want the cute and innocent little boy to dislike her in any way.

“Us? No. Me? Maybe. I haven't told him about us yet, don't want him to tell the whole class and make it awkward for you at work.” Harry explains causing Y/N to smirk and nod, loving that he cares that much.

“So what does he think we are?” Y/N pries.

“I've told him you are my friend and that I like you a whole lot.” Harry tells her, making her smile.

“A whole lot, huh?” Y/N giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. Harry flashes her a cheeky smile and runs his fingers through her hair. “Sounds like you have a little crush.” She teases.

“Hmm, kinda do. Can't help it though.” Harry admits and leans into her, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. Y/N squirms under his touch, silently letting him know that this is okay. Then, she dips her head slightly and closes her lips on his.

The kiss instantly deepens and Y/N quickly crawls into Harry's lap, getting a better angle to kiss him passionately. His hands rest on her hips and hold her in place as he slowly kisses his way down her neck. Y/N closes her eyes, taking in the touch and taste of Harry. God, he really does turn her on.

So far they hadn't had the opportunity to make out like this. It's all been dates outside of either of their homes and kisses over the console of his car or at her front door. Feeling her thighs on each side of him and her lips working his like it's her favourite pastime makes Harry understand how badly he wants this to work out.

She lets her arms drape around his neck as her mouth finds his again, this time kissing him hungrily. Her lips sloppily brush against his, her teeth leaving grazes against his already tender bottom lip. He's just as eager to make out with her as she is.

She eventually breaks away, though, just to reconnect with those green gems Harry calls his eyes. He gives her a warm smile and his thumbs run under her shirt.

“You are so beautiful, love. Always been.” Harry murmurs against her lips before going in for another kiss. The gesture takes her back to high school, them sharing kisses on her porch after he walked her home from school. Always ending with a tight hug and whispers that went something like this.

But she's not in high school anymore, and so are her urges. Now, she simply can't get enough of Harry, and by the feeling of a firm swelling in his pants, she knows he is affected as much as she. It's quite the ego boost.

Harry had spent many nights, imagining how his first time making love to her would go. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heat deliciously dripping, his name leaving her lips in a quivering cry when they both reach the peak of their pleasure. But he always kept the fantasy bundled up in his mind, he knew that it was too soon for that. Not anymore, though, because Y/N makes it very clear to him that she wants him.

“Harry.” She whimpers and rolls her hips into his. Her core grinds against his crotch and she swears she could make herself come from this. Just humping his bulge will be enough to have her reeling.

“I'm taking that as your consent, love.” Harry murmurs, pecking her lips. But she doesn't reply, she just hums in agreement. Enough for Harry to lift the two of them up, causing her to squeal slightly. He carries her upstairs and drops her on the bed.

It's happening.

Harry climbs on top of her, pressing her down with his weight. His lips crash back on hers and she accepts his passionate kisses with just the same amount of passion. She tumbles her hands around his neck, making sure he stays exactly where he is right now.

After a few minutes of more intense making out, Harry needs to come up for air. His chest is rising and falling and his hair is a hot mess, Y/N giggles teasingly, running her fingers through it to arrange it neatly.

“You're gorgeous.” Harry utters and places a delicate kiss on her jaw, Y/N lets out a shaky breath. Her heart soars when Harry compliments her. Her chin tilts towards him, their mouths closing in for more sucking and licking and biting and tugging. “But I'm dying to know how gorgeous you are underneath all this.”

She can't help the blood that rushes to her cheeks, and she can hardly breathe. Harry reaches down, lifting her shirt over her head. He wastes no time as soon as the fabric passes over her body. He's sucking the skin at her shoulder with eagerness.

“Fuck.” She curses as his teeth nip into her, his lips brushing it so faintly as soon as there's the red and purplish proof he's marked her. For a moment he feels guilty, thinking it's inappropriate, but he can't help but want this. He wants to become one with her and claim her as his own.

Harry gently kneads her breast with his hands, eliciting an erotic moan from her. Y/N isn't shy about her body. Her hand reaches to her back and she unclasps her bra, pulling it off and letting her boobs bounce freely. Harry gulps at the sight, they are just as magnificent as he had imagined them a few years back.

Harry kisses his way down her upper body and without a second thought, takes a nipple into his mouth. The man toys with it with his tongue, making Y/N's centre burn with desire. She hisses at the warmth of his mouth sucking and licking and nibbling. He then moves over to the other nipple, giving it equal attention before Y/N groans and speaks up.

“Fuck, I- I can't take it any longer, Harry.” Y/N whimpers, feeling her core starting to pulsate. She needs him there and she needs it now.

“Tell me what you want then, love.” Harry husks, his cock painfully straining in his trousers.

“Touch me. Eat me out, lick me clean. I don't care, but for fuck's sake-“ She heaves, her hands roaming down to the lining of Harry's trousers.

He doesn't need to be told twice, within a few seconds he is standing next to the bed, tugging off her trousers with her panties. Before quickly stripping down, he catches her eye looking longingly at the obvious erection in his boxers. She has been waiting for this to happen.

Y/N smiles as she observes him, he is so beautiful to her. His every flaw is precious. Y/N sees how his veins are straining underneath the thin layer of his skin as his fists clench around his bed sheets. How those plump pink lips are slightly parted, allowing his rapid, ragged breathing to escape.

Harry palms himself through his briefs, stroking his erection while keeping his eyes focused on the woman beneath him. With her lying on his bed in all her beauty, legs spread, his name on her parted lips. She is truly the epitome of sheer loveliness.

Harry kneels down at the side of the bed before he wraps his arms around her thighs to pull her closer to the edge. “You sure, baby?” He asks once more, although Y/N has been very clear with what she wants.

“Positive.” She mutters and in less than a second, Harry gently presses his lips against her folds. Kissing all around her pussy but never quite touching the most intimate parts. This drives her insane and her hands reach out to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer to her center. “Please.” She whimpers needily.

Harry doesn't make her wait, instead, he runs one finger through her folds before spreading them apart as his tongue prods over the heated skin. A loud grunt escapes his lips when he realises how sweet she tastes. It's everything he could've imagined and more. He then gets to work, flicking his tongue over her clit expertly, making Y/N buck her hips in appreciation. She pants, trying not to explode from pleasure at the feeling.

His free hand slides up to her lower stomach to hold her down and withhold her from squirming too much. Her juices are escaping from inside her, soiling his lips and chin and the duvet. Harry just can't get enough. His thumb scratches at her pelvis and as Y/N looks down, she sees him bobbing up and down eagerly, his eyes closed shut as he devours her. She hisses at the obscene sight.

“Ah- f-fuck!” Y/N stutters out, Harry now digging his fingers into her and slightly curling them inside her, hitting her g-spot and bringing her closer to her orgasm. “Harry!” She warns, her eyes practically rolling back at how he licks her, but that doesn't make him stop, no, he speeds up even.

His lips are locked on her clit, sucking as his fingertips massage her inner walls and let her slick seep out. She can't keep her legs still if she tries, her toes are curling and her thighs are shaking.

“Mmmh.” Harry moans lowly, tasting her juices as they keep flowing, signalling she won't last a second longer. “Come for me, darling.” He releases for a split second only to murmur those words, causing her body to respond with a shattering climax.

“Oh-ffu-Harry!” Y/N cries out as the burning knot inside her undoes and explodes. It's nothing like she's ever felt before, men never really seemed to know how to satisfy her, but Harry is all it takes for her to let go and forget about all the bad sex she ever had. She gasps loudly, riding out her orgasm as he keeps working her gently with his fingers and mouth. “Jesus fuck.”

Her legs fall to her sides. Harry comes up and wipes his mouth clean, chuckling at how Y/N is gasping for air. Her chest heaving as she does her best to try and breathe. “Good?” He hums and kisses her collarbone as he awaits a response.

“Too good.” She chokes out a laugh as soon as she can catch her breath again. She reaches down to caress his cheek, causing him to glance up. “Need a taste.” She huffs, as her hand goes down to his cock. Harry smirks and stops her. Gaining her attention with a quirked brow, indicating she doesn't understand.

“I desperately want to be inside of you, and I won't be able to last as long as I plan to if your puffy lips would work their magic on my cock right now.” He tells her bluntly, keeping his lust-filled gaze on her. And honestly, that might've just been the sexiest thing anyone has ever told her. She gives him a coy nod before he props himself up. He pushes his boxers down his legs and hovers over her.

Harry reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom while Y/N finally has her tiny fingers wrapped around Harry's erect and dripping cock. It's long and hard, the tip glistening and soft. Her hand runs down his shaft, paying close attention to the pattern of those prominent veins. His big hand reaches for her wrist.

“Hate to stop you, love, but you'll be the death of me.” Harry breathes as he slowly rolls the condom down his shaft. Y/N smiles adoringly, holding back laughter. Harry shakes his head amused, glad he brings that same childlike chuckle to Y/N's face that he used to adore when they were younger.

Then Y/N's face changes to surprise as Harry wraps his arms around her upper body to place her further on the bed, her head now resting on his soft pillows. Harry takes his position above her and cups her chin as he gently kisses her.

“Are you ready for me?” He asks. His cock now directly at her entrance, he holds it with his hand, teasing her.

“Yes, H. Please, yes.” She eagerly replies. So Harry presses a firm kiss on her mouth as he carefully pushes himself in. Just the tip before he pulls back again, teasing her incredibly slowly. Y/N groans in annoyance but lets him. Instead, she circles her arms around his neck and lets her fingertips draw nonsensical doodles on his scalp.

Her eyes shut when he finally thrusts himself forward, inserting his cock fully and feeling her pussy clenching around him. At first, he moves slowly, deliberately waiting for the satisfying burn to fade. His palms are pressed flat next to her shoulders as he secures his balance above her. She just can't keep her moans inside, not when he fucks her with all the love in the world.

“Fuck.” Harry grits, noticing how tight she is. Y/N keeps her eyes closed and lets him take control, simply doing what she feels is right, and that is responding to Harry's pace and needs. She finds solace in his sweet scent and she's sure she's addicted to it from now on.

As his hips rock, he slips his tongue into her mouth. Y/N's walls clench around him as his pace picks up. Her slick dripping out of her, coating their inner thighs as he slowly dips in and out.

“Give me your leg.” He says as he taps his fingers on her right thigh. Y/N obediently pulls her leg up and Harry positions himself a bit differently, the tip of his cock hammering against her cervix, reaching spots she didn't know could feel so good.

He places her leg on his shoulder and holds it in place with his arm wrapped around her knee. The newfound angle allows him to fuck her deeper and Harry can't hold himself back anymore. He slams into her, she moans in pleasure when he picks up the pace, making their sweaty bodies become one.

“G-goddamn, love.” He grunts, loving how they move as one. The muscles of his abdomen tense up under his skin with every hard thrust he delivers, he simply can't bear to slow down his movement. Harry continues to rut in and out, bringing both of them higher.

His left-hand reaches down, pressing down on her pubic bone for extra stimulation as his thumb finds her clit. Harry then knows he won't last long. Feeling her pussy already milking his cock, he knows she is close too.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the butterflies in her stomach building up again as Harry hits her G-spot every time he slams back into her.

“H-Harry- shit.” Y/N pants rapidly. She can feel how her juices are dripping from her and covering Harry's dick, definitely creating a wet spot underneath her bum on the duvet. She rolls her eyes back. She can't hold out for much longer.

“Nghh, yeah? Come for me, again, baby.” Harry groans as his pace starts to get sloppy. Y/N loves how his brows furrow and his jaw tightens up every time he pushes in.

“Aah- I'm-“ She starts and her walls clench around him, squeezing his hard cock inside her as she comes. The sensation is too much for Harry to bear. His hot liquid explodes into the rubber as her warm pussy milks him.

“Mmph.” Harry moans and with the last bit of power in his limp body, he slowly rocks back and forth to ride out their orgasms until they both collapse, tired and sweating messes.

“God, I can't believe that just happened.” Y/N puffs as they lie next to each other for a few moments. Harry hums, rolling to her side and pulling out of her in the process. Y/N catches his glance, seeing how his green eyes look like they shine even in the dark, love and affection radiating from them.

“I finally had sex with the girl of my dreams.” He murmurs, scooting a bit closer as Y/N feels him reach to her hand to twine their fingers together. She giggles at his sweetness before opening her mouth to speak.

“I now understand why you didn't want Charlie here today.” She remarks, earning a playful look from Harry. She brings her fingers up to brush the hair off his forehead. “I love you.” Y/N suddenly utters, surprising herself. “I mean it.”

“I love you too.” Harry says without a second thought before placing his wet lips on hers. It's not like they hadn't said I love you to each other when they were younger, but adult I love you's are different, stronger, more meaningful. Y/N grins, nudging her nose against his cheek and pecking his lips.

“We should do something about the stickiness, shouldn't we?” Harry says running his finger on the inside of her thigh. Y/N chuckles as she nods her head in agreement, slightly ashamed but just couldn't care less right now. She's happy, Harry's happy and that's all that matters.

Harry picks her up from the bed again, gaining another squeal as he carries her to the bathroom. They hop in the shower and their touches remain gentle. Just soft kisses and long glances. Once they're all washed up, they slide back between the sheets in an after-sex, shower-fresh bliss.

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[lemonwrap]

Imagine: a Dishonored AU where Ghost is marked and gifted with the Outsider’s powers, and Soap is the royalty he protects.

As a young child, Simon grew up poor—so poor that his father couldn’t repay the debts he racked up. Not when he spent nearly every cent on booze. 

When Simon is eight, the street gang his father had been avoiding for nearly a year finally catches up with him. Although Simon manages to escape, the gang kills his entire family as retribution—his father, mother, and older brother, Tommy. Ghost didn’t care for his father in the least, but it’s still a shock to see a corpse. 

That night, as he sobs on his cracked front doorstep and mourns the loss of his mother and brother, he falls asleep. He awakens in a strange place, where chunks of buildings and land float throughout a vast abyss. 

Simon wanders around for an unknown amount of time investigating—it could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been years. A flurry of inky black particles form in the air and quickly arrange themselves into a…being.

There’s something distinctly godlike about the being. He isn’t human. His eyes are pitch black, an abyss with no bounds, and his skin is pale as snow. He holds himself with a rigid posture, arms crossed, and chin lifted as he looks down upon the young boy. 

“Hello, Simon,” the being says. 

“Who are you?” Simon whispers. 

“I am the Outsider. Your life has taken a turn, has it not? I have chosen you and drawn you into the Void,” he says. “There are forces in the world and beyond the world, great forces that men call ‘magic’, and now these forces will serve your will.”

Simon doesn’t say anything else, mystified. What is he talking about? There’s always been stories of magic, of the Outsider, but magic doesn’t really exist, does it? But nothing else can explain how real this all feels, from the cold, empty air to the calls of the whales as they float throughout the chasm of this realm, to the Outsider himself. 

“This is my mark,” the Outsider says, and he lifts his hand. Suddenly, Simon’s own left hand is burning, and he jumps at the pain, looking down at it in alarm. There’s an intricate design forming on the back of his hand, and when he tries to wipe it off, it’s smooth and stays firmly in place like a tattoo would.

“Use this newfound power, my gift to you, Simon. How you use what I have given you falls upon you, as it has to the others before you. And now, I return you to your world—but know that I will be watching with great interest.”

In the morning, Simon wakes up on his doorstep again. He immediately checks his hand and is startled to see that it’s still there, and it doesn’t come off. It wasn’t just a dream.

He lives on the streets after that. 

Simon spends years honing his abilities, including his ability to Blink moderate distances, Wind Blast opponents or objects, and his sword fighting skills. He also maintains a strong, agile body ready for just about anything, and even adopts the name Ghost, coming from his ability to Blink and his stealth. 

In his dreams, Ghost sometimes finds himself in the Void, but he never sees the Outsider. His mark is as visible and strong as ever, though, and so he keeps it covered constantly.

At sixteen, Ghost enters the Blade Verbana, an annual sword-fighting competition. The prize is a spot in the Serkonan Guard, something he would have almost zero chance of gaining otherwise.

Ghost wins, of course. Even without his powers, most of his opponents were no match for him. He didn’t use his powers in the competition because using his Wind Blast to throw one of his opponents into a wall or Blinking to dodge would give him away. Black magic is feared and looked down upon, and its discovery would subject him to arrest or death. Ghost knows that is what he possesses, so he keeps it a secret, only using it when alone or in an emergency.

After two years of service, the Duke of Serkonos sends Ghost to Dunwall to serve Empress Anne MacTavish. The Empress assigns him to be the Royal Protector, specifically for her son. 

That’s when he meets John MacTavish.

He’s Ghost’s age, has a stupid haircut in the form of a mohawk, and likes to be called Soap. Ghost thinks he’s insolent and irritating, with the most redeeming thing about him is that he doesn’t talk down on Ghost and doesn’t purposely flaunt his wealth or status. It makes his attitude a little more bearable. However, Soap has a healthy disrespect for authority and, to Ghost’s annoyance, likes to flee the elegant balls his mother hosts and sneak out of his room in the tower at night. It’s Ghost’s job to protect and guard him, and Soap is making it a pain in the ass.

Ghost isn’t particularly attached to his fiery ward until one night, when Soap slips out of his room yet again. Ghost tracks him down and eventually finds Soap in the middle of a brawl with three men in an alleyway, losing badly. Ghost helps him. He and Soap fight side by side, though Soap is clearly lacking in any real technique, and Ghost chases the men away. He could’ve easily Wind Blasted them, but he doesn’t want to try and explain that to Soap. 

He’s about to yell at Soap until he realizes there’s a girl there, too. A teenager, only a few years younger than them. Soap had been defending her. Ghost is still annoyed, but not quite as upset as before as he drags Soap back to the tower. He tends to a pouting Soap’s scrapes and sends him back to his room with a blooming black eye. 

The next day, when Ghost is reprimanded for allowing Soap to leave his room and get hurt, Soap jumps in to defend the Royal Protector. Ghost manages to avoid punishment, although Soap and his black eye make quite the sight as his mother chews him out. 

After that, they get closer. 

As it is his duty to do so, Ghost follows Soap just about everywhere, much to Soap’s annoyance. When Soap isn’t sneaking out, roaming the city streets, or meeting up with his friend Gaz, he likes to find reprieve in the small patch of woods near the tower. Sometimes he takes a dip in the small pond located there. 

“C’mon, Ghost,” Soap urges, waggling his eyebrows as he tosses his shirt to the side. “The water’s fine.” 

“I’m supposed to be guarding you,” Ghost says gruffly as Soap steps in. He tries very hard not to look at Soap’s chest, his strong biceps, or his tanned skin.

“You’re so serious all the time,” Soap huffs, taking his arm and playfully splashing Ghost with water. From the edge, Ghost is torn between wanting to splash him back and wanting to stay on guard. 

“I won’t let you get in trouble,” Soap assures him. “You need to relax a little!” 

Ah, fuck it. What’s a little fun? Ghost has more clothes back at the tower, anyway. He kicks off his boots.

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ghost says. 

“Warn me about wh—“

Ghost doesn’t hear the rest of his sentence. Clothes on, he impulsively cannonballs straight into the pond, splashing water all over the place in a huge wave. When he rises to the surface, Soap is sputtering and spitting water out of his mouth. 

“I didn't mean come in like that,” Soap laughs incredulously. Later, when they return to the tower, Ghost dripping all over the floors and boots squelching with every step, Soap tells his mother that he pushed Ghost in just so that Ghost wouldn’t get in trouble. 

Between their banter and jokes, Ghost also teaches Soap more about self defense, and they spar frequently. Soap gets better and better, but against Ghost’s years of experience and unnatural talents, Ghost still wins. Soap gets some good hits in, though, and he can hold his own in a fight. 

Soap quickly becomes likable—and despite his intention to stay distant, Ghost starts crushing on Soap. He’s still professional, of course, but it’s hard for him to not like Soap, especially when they spend so much time together. Soap treats him well, too, and the brazen-faced man often shows him a softer, more kind side of himself. Ghost’s own facade slips more often than he intends it to.

Sometimes, Ghost wishes he could tell Soap about the Outsider’s mark. He doesn’t, and the Outsider never visits him either. Perhaps Ghost is too boring for him now that he isn’t a street rat. 

Less than a year after Ghost is appointed as Soap’s Royal Protector, the Empress falls ill and dies. At only eighteen, Soap becomes the new Emperor of the Empire of the Isles. 

Soap doesn’t get a lot of time to process it all when the council urges him to make a public statement and officially inherit the title. After, Soap stands with Ghost at his side as the aides move Soap’s belongings into his new quarters—his mother’s old room. 

Soap doesn’t say a word and just stands there with watery eyes. Unsure if this was a line he should cross, Ghost attempts to go stand outside Soap’s door, but Soap asks him to stay. The new Emperor cries into Ghost’s shoulder that night. 

Ghost tries his best to help Soap deal with his grief, but even with personal experience, he’s not the greatest at it. Even so, Soap begins to get the hang of being Emperor and proves himself to be a benevolent and competent leader. The people become fond of Soap and respect him greatly.

It isn’t enough to keep him from being targeted, though. 

It’s a quiet night, nearly three years after being appointed Emperor, when a group of assassins makes an attempt on Soap’s life. Soap and Ghost are resting in a gazebo, looking out at the water, and standing much too close for Ghost to even pretend he’s being professional. He can’t stop looking at Soap, from his grown-out mohawk that hasn’t been trimmed in months to his beautiful blue eyes. Ghost wants to kiss Soap so, so badly, but he does no such thing, and resigns himself to observing.

Neither of them are prepared for the attack, but Ghost recovers first. There’s six of them, all covering their faces like Ghost does—perhaps they had heard of Ghost’s fighting prowess and thought that they could overwhelm him with numbers.

He doesn’t let that happen. 

Everything comes in a rush, and he’s using the Outsider’s mark to prevent them from even touching Soap. Soap knocks one of them out in the ensuing struggle and beats the shit out of another, but Ghost is a whirlwind, dodging and Blinking to avoid blows, Wind Blasting his opponents to the ground, and using his sword like it’s an extension of his own body. It’s over quicker than Ghost had expected. 

“Shit,” Soap says breathlessly, visibly shaken when Ghost pulls his sword out of the last assassin’s stomach. 

“You alright, Johnny?” Ghost asks, stumbling forward, and finds that he’s very out of breath. 

“Simon? What’s that on your side?” Soap asks, his brow creasing with worry. “Are you—“

Ghost staggers, and suddenly his side is bursting with pain. He can’t believe he didn’t notice it before. He reaches his hand to where the pain is radiating and can feel the hot blood quickly gushing from the wound. 

“Simon?!” Soap rushes forward, and suddenly, Ghost feels a little too woozy. Shit, they must’ve gotten him bad.

“It’s fine,” Ghost grunts, trying not to worry Soap too much, but it’s starting to get dark and Ghost is dizzy.

The last thing he hears is Soap frantically calling his name.

When Ghost wakes up, he’s in a dim room that he recognizes as Soap’s quarters. There’s a weight on his thigh, and he looks down to see Soap’s head resting on him. Soap’s closed eyes are puffy like he’s been crying, and there’s shadows under them, too. Ghost shifts and lets out a groan as a sharp pain shoots through his side, and Soap immediately notices, his eyes snapping open. 

But then his face switches from relief and crumples into a terrible, terrible guilt. 

Soap sits up and lays his hand on Ghost’s chest, and Ghost realizes that he’s feeling how his chest rises and falls. Ghost doesn’t know what to say, but anything he possibly could fades when Soap lets out a shuddering gasp and begins to cry. It quickly turns into hiccuping sobs, and Ghost worriedly grabs Soap’s hands in his own, trying to soothe him. 

“Ah, shit. Johnny, it’s okay,” Ghost says, wanting to lean forward but wincing. Soap pushes him back against the propped-up pillows, his cheeks wet with tears, lip wobbling, brows upturned in utter sorrow. Ghost feels like an asshole for letting himself get hurt so badly. 

“It’s not. I thought you were going to die,” Soap says, his breathing hitched. 

“I had to protect you,” Ghost says, running his hands up Soap’s arms. 

“But—“

“Johnny, I’d do it a thousand times if it meant you lived.” 

Soap sniffles and lays his head back down on Ghost’s thigh, and Ghost pets his hair. 

Later, they talk about what happened. At Soap’s probing, Ghost cautiously admits that he had been marked by the Outsider as a child. Soap doesn’t seem to find this off-putting, nor does he call for Ghost’s arrest or beheading. He doesn’t seem to think any differently of Ghost, although he does seem incredibly intrigued by the mark on Ghost’s hand that he’d diligently kept hidden until now.

Only a day and a half after being stabbed, Ghost gets out of bed and hobbles around some, much to Soap’s displeasure. 

When he gets tired, he lets Soap lead him back into bed. They’re close, and Ghost just can’t help himself. He strokes his hand through Soap’s hair softly, and Soap allows it—seems to enjoy it, even. 

And then he’s using the hand in Soap’s hair to urge him closer, kissing him before he can stop himself, because he’s wanted to do this for three years at this point. Ghost quickly pulls back, though, stunned at what he’s just done.

Soap looks just as stunned for a moment, but then he grins.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re feeling better?” Soap laughs, following Ghost’s lips and kissing him fiercely. 

“Better because of you,” Ghost manages to say between their desperate kisses. He doesn’t even care that his side still hurts like a bitch and that it’ll likely be weeks before he’s back on his feet.

“You big fuckin’ sap,” Soap says. “I love you.” 

“Yeah?” Ghost breathes. 

“Yeah,” Soap affirms, and that’s that.

[thenerdykneazle]

Slytherin Green

Summary: Sebastian is none too pleased to discover you've borrowed Garreth's jumper after his experimental potion ruined your usual uniform. Your duelling practice threatens to turn into a falling out.

Seb's POV

Sebastian Sallow x Ravenclaw F!MC

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, 7th year, aged-up characters, jealousy, CMNF, Seb being toxic

Word count: 5129

Sebastian owed you the world. He would be rotting in Azkaban if it wasn’t for you. He’d spent all of sixth year trying to earn the second chance you’d given him. He helped you on every new mission to root out the last of the Ashwinders or chase off poachers. He helped you with homework. He practically followed you around like a lost puppy, or so Imelda would say. But he couldn’t help if he wanted to be around you all the time.

He'd grown to have quite the crush on you. Not that he’d ever admit it. He didn’t want you to think everything he did for you was a ploy for your affections. Besides, he knew how you felt about him. He’d find you slumped against Ominis as you both napped against a wall. He saw how you’d ruffle Garreth’s hair when you teased him. You gave Natty and Poppy hugs constantly. Even Imelda would get a punch to the arm or a squeeze of her cheeks, much to her dismay. But you never touched him. Not on purpose, anyway.

There was the odd brush of a hand as you trekked through the forest or press of your sides together while hiding from dark wizards or dangerous beasts. But, unlike the rest of your friends, you seemed averse to touch him. He’d dream about it being different sometimes. The heat of your hands sinking into his arms as he tangled your hair around his fingers. Your hot mouth on his neck. The warmth of your body flush against his.

There was a chill that had sunk into his bones ever since he used that damned relic. He felt certain you could warm him in a way blankets, cloaks, and the common room fire always failed. Their heat couldn’t reach deep enough. But you. You would seep into his very soul. He was sure of it.

He wondered if you could feel the chill. If that was what made you loathe to touch him. He worried further if you were simply repulsed by him – by the things you now knew him to be capable of. Maybe you only kept him close to ensure he didn’t slip back into dark magic.

He knew any further misdeeds of his would weigh on your conscience. You would blame yourself for letting him walk free. So, he was determined to ensure that you didn’t regret your choice. He hadn’t even touched a dark tome since the end of fifth year. Not just for you. He’d realized how much he almost lost due to the seductive forces of malevolent magic and decided to stop before he made even worse mistakes. That didn’t mean he’d given up on curing Anne, of course. He was searching for any sort of unusual medicine that might help her. He’d written healers across the continent about her symptoms to see if they had any ideas. So far, he hadn’t had any luck, but he held out hope.

You helped him, too. You spent every spare moment sat across from him at a library table, reading old healer manuals and texts on curse breaking. You’d even gotten Professor Weasley to help tutor you on the latter subject. Sebastian would’ve felt guilty if he didn’t love spending the time with you so much. He cherished every moment spent with you, partly because he feared that, at any moment, you might cut him out – that his sins would catch up with him, and you’d abandon him.

He couldn’t take the thought of not having you in his life. He was paranoid about someone stealing you away. As he entered potions class, he was faced with one of the many things that made him nervous about the prospect.

You were already at your station, which you shared with Garreth.

That day, you were revising brewing veritaserum before you would learn to make the antidote next class. Sebastian didn’t like the mischievous look on the ginger’s face as he whispered to you.

You just rolled your eyes at him.

“Good morning, Sebastian!” you said with a bright smile when you noticed him.

“Hello, MC,” he replied, returning your grin. “Still on for some duelling practice this evening?”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you vowed.

He beamed at you. “Brilliant! Meet you after dinner, then?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” you replied.

Sebastian’s gaze flicked over to your tablemate. His smile vanished. “Weasley.”

“Sallow,” the gregarious Gryffindor replied coolly.

The lesson was torture. Despite having learned the potion the previous year, Sebastian almost mucked it up three separate times. He even almost used a fwooper feather instead of jobberknoll. He kept getting distracted looking over at your station. Garreth kept leaning over and whispering to you, and you kept giggling in response. Smarmy git should focus on his studies more, Sebastian thought.

Suddenly, a cyan plume of steam rose from Garreth’s cauldron, forming a cloud overhead. Blue slime began raining down on your whole station. You shrieked.

“Whoops! That wasn’t supposed to happen!” Garreth said as he stared curiously at his cauldron.

Sharp quickly vanished the sludge from the cauldron, but the cloud kept growing. “Everyone out!” he growled before looking pointedly at Garreth and MC. “Except you two.”

The professor sounded exasperated. Sebastian was taken out in the current of fleeing students. As he left, he could see Sharp casting several spells at the cloud in vain. He could also see you were splattered in blue goo.

“I don’t know why Sharp is punishing you for Garreth’s idiocy,” Sebastian groused as you both walked from the Great Hall to the Undercroft. You were goo-free now, fortunately.

“Well, I did dare him to brew it,” you admitted.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You really shouldn’t encourage him. He’s a hazard.”

You shrugged. “It was so boring, though. It’s worth the detention.”

Sebastian frowned harder at the thought of you and Garreth sat together in detention.  “What time is that again?” he asked.

You sighed. “Eight,” you replied before stepping into the old clock.

Sebastian followed close behind you. “I’ll have to make quick work of you, then,” he teased.

You sent him a scandalized glance over your shoulder. “Merlin, that sounds a bit rude, doesn’t it?” you replied.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that!” he said in an exasperated tone, but his cheeks coloured, nonetheless. He hoped it was too dark for you to tell. “Besides, I’m not falling for your innocent Ravenclaw act.”

You spun on your heel and batted your lashes affectedly at him. It still made his heart race. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently before shooting him a sarcastic smile. “Now are you going to keep prattling on or ‘make quick work of me’?”

Sebastian’s voice caught in his throat as a string of lewd images flashed through his mind – mostly of you on top of or bent over the desk you were walking towards. His ears were burning as you smirked at him.

“Snake got your tongue?” you asked, amused.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “No,” he said lamely as he unhooked his robes. He draped them over a crate.

You shed your own robe, as well, tossing it over the chair as you always did. You began rolling your oversized sleeves up past your elbows.

Sebastian saw red, literally and figuratively. “What the fuck is that?” he hissed.

You looked down at the crimson jumper and then back up at him. “What?” you said brusquely. “My shirt was stained from the goo, so Garreth lent me his jumper. So, no fire spells today, please and thank you.”

Sebastian’s jaw tensed. “That looks absolutely ridiculous,” he said harshly.

You shrugged. “Better than looking like I have doxy sick all over me,” you argued. “Now stop being so childish. It’s not like I’ve switched houses. It’s just a jumper.”

“People exchange scarves when they’re courting,” he said. “You look like you’ve gone off and shagged him in a broom cupboard!”

“Go fuck yourself, Sebastian,” you replied acerbically. He could tell you were more upset than you were letting on. Your shoulders were tight, and your jaw was clenched. There was a fire smouldering in your eyes. He was surprised you hadn’t–

With a quick flick of your wand, you sent a nonverbal blasting curse at him. It hit him in the shoulder, leaving a large but minor burn. Your nonverbal spells were always weaker. “Ow!” he whinged. “That’s hardly sporting!”

“Well, you’re an arsehole. You don’t deserve me being sporting,” you bit back.

“Have it your way,” he growled before send a slew of spells in your direction.

You blocked the first three and dodged out of the way of the last one, which was a blasting curse of his own. “Oi! I said no fire!” you barked, glancing down to check for scorch marks.

Sebastian glared at you. “Oh, yes, I’d hate for your little keepsake to be damaged!”

He sent two more blasting curses at you. You dove, rolling out of their path. When you got back to your feet, you started your counterattack with a stunner. “You. Are. So. Frustrating!”

You punctuated every word with a basic cast.

“I’m frustrating?” he bellowed. His eyes darkened as he prowled in a circle around you, poised to strike the instant your arm twitched. “You are the most infuriating witch I’ve ever met!”

You rolled your eyes. You pivoted to stay facing him as he stalked around you. “You’re the one upset about a bloody jumper!”

“Well, you’re the one acting like it belongs in the deepest vault at Gringotts,” he shot back.

You scoffed. “What do you even care?”

He cared that it was Garreth sodding Weasley’s jumper and as red as his stupid hair.

He cared that you were acting like some moon-eyed, besotted little girl.

He cared that, while you wouldn’t even touch him, you were pleased as punch to be wearing another man’s clothes.

“I don’t care,” he asserted, losing most of his venom as he aimed for nonchalance. “It’s just…embarrassing.”

“Well, if I’m so embarrassing–” you started, hurling an exploding charm at him. He dodged it, and it blew apart a crate, instead. “–then you don’t need to be seen with me.”

You hit him with a banishing charm he was too stunned to dodge. He flew back into a large stack of old books, scattering them all over the floor. “What are you saying?” he asked as he scrambled back to his feet. Fear had edged into his voice.

“I’m saying you don’t bloody owe me anything!” you fumed amidst sending a flurry of spells at his head. He blocked them all and even sent back some spells of his own. You growled in rage as a severing charm caught your arm. “If you hate me so much, then you can fuck right off! I won’t make you hang around.”

You felt like your shoulder might pop right out with the force you used slashing your wand through the air. Your spells deflected off Sebastian’s shield charm or hit random object across the room as he evaded them. By the time you stopped casting, several small piles of rubble were smouldering and you were panting to catch your breath.

You expected a counterattack, but Sebastian dropped his wand as soon as you stopped.

His whole face had fallen. “I didn’t…I don’t hate you,” he said quietly as he stepped forward through the tattered books and splintered wood. You let your wand arm drop.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you spat as he approached.

“How could you think I hate you? I–” He choked back the words. “I care about you so much.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Not more than you hate Gryffindors, apparently,” you said bitterly.

“The only reason I put up with that self-righteous lot is for you!” he said, jabbing a finger into your chest. You took a step back. “You’re the one that can’t seem to stand being around me.”

You rolled your eyes. “How d’you figure that?” you asked, incredulous.

“I’m the only person you keep at arm’s length. You snuggle up to Ominis like you’re a couple of crup puppies. You, Natty, and Poppy are practically conjoined twins. You play with Weasley’s stupid ginger hair all the time – and you’re in his sodding jumper. You’re even touchy with Imelda. And you act like I’d burn you or give you some incurable disease if you got too close.”

“You’re insane! I…I don’t do that,” you said, but your voice faltered.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You’re not hiding your little crush from anyone, love,” he bit out, making you blush madly. “It’s rather obvious that you’re smitten with Weasley. But the point is–”

“I don’t have feelings for Garreth,” you interjected.

“Yeah, obviously,” he said sarcastically, giving the hem of the jumper a swift tug.

He pulled harder than he’d meant to, sending you stumbling forward into him. You let out a little gasp as you smacked into his chest. He caught you by the arms to steady you. You hissed in pain, and Sebastian immediately released you. There was blood on his right hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” he said, quickly reaching into his pocket. He took out a phial of green liquid. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth, avoiding using his bloodied hand, and passed it to you.

You took the potion from him gingerly, and he noted how you carefully avoided brushing his fingers. You downed the brew in one gulp. His eyes caught on the column of your neck as you swallowed. He blinked and forced himself to look away.

You returned the empty phial, and he pocketed it. He stepped closer before carefully pulling the cut in your sleeve apart to inspect your skin. It was already mended.

He turned his head to your face, examining you with concern marring his features. “Does it still hurt?”

You stared at him with wide eyes. “Um, no. It’s fine now…thank you,” you said, looking down and taking a step backwards.

Sebastian huffed as you pulled away from him – like you always did. “That is exactly what I’m talking about!”

You furrowed your brow. “What is?”

“You’re constantly putting space between us,” he said. His breath caught as a realization struck him. “Are…are you afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you?” you asked like it was a laughable idea.

He ran his left hand through his hair. “Well, if it’s not that and you don’t hate me, then what is it?” He was clearly exasperated.

You stared up at him, biting your lip anxiously. You let your gaze fall again, landing on his bloody palm. You scourgified his hand for him, since his wand was still lying on the floor amongst the wreckage. He waited out your silence. “I just…” You took a deep breath. “It’s difficult for me to be close to you.”

You glanced up at him. He looked gutted. He stayed rigid, even though what he wanted most was to reach out to you. “But why? What did I do? I’ll fix it, I promise! Just tell me what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Seb,” you said, unable to stop the flush from coming to your cheeks. “It’s just hard because it’s not the same with you. I…I like you. And I know you don’t like me. Obviously. But it just hurts to be close to you when it can’t be in the way I want.”

Sebastian blinked rapidly. He looked stunned. “What?” he nearly yelled.

“Please don’t make it a big deal,” you pled. “It’s really not.”

Sebastian was still reeling. “You like me? As in fancy me?”

You just nodded.

In a flash, he had your face in his hands and his lips on yours. He kissed you fiercely, and the warmth of your lips spread through his whole face and down his neck. The heat from your cheeks seeped into his palms. He pulled back before you could even reciprocate. You just gaped at him.

“Why on earth would you think I don’t like you?” he asked, bewildered.

“I heard you telling Isaac Cooper last week that I’m a terrible dancer and he should ask Natty to the Halloween dance, instead,” you said, looking at your shoes.

Sebastian rolled his eyes even as he stroked his thumbs over your cheeks fondly. “Because I didn’t want to watch him spin you around the Great Hall all night or snog you behind the jack-o’-lanterns. Because I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else.”

“You mean you were jealous?” you asked. You gasped. “That’s why you’re so peeved over a silly jumper!”

You were wearing an arrogant smirk now.

Sebastian glared at you. “Obviously, you silly witch,” he said grumpily. “Now take the ruddy thing off! I’m not kissing you again while you’re in it.”

“Is that so?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “But it’s so cozy. And it smells like butterscotch and sarsaparilla. It’s quite nice, don’t you think?”

You were biting back a smile, but Sebastian wasn’t amused.

His hands dropped from your face. “No, I don’t,” he gritted out. “Off. Now.”

You gave a shocked gasp. “That’s no way to treat a lady, Sebastian!” you teased.

He narrowed his gaze at you. “You can take off the jumper, or I can do it for you,” he said darkly. “But I can’t promise I’ll stop there.”

Your eyes sparked with excitement. “And you’ll overpower me how, exactly?” you asked with a cocky grin. “You don’t even have your wand.”

He fisted a hand into your hair as he leaned in, letting his lips ghost over your ear. “I don’t need it to make you beg,” he replied in a low voice. You’d already admitted how affected you were by him. He was feeling rather confident.

His words shot straight to your core. He leaned back to watch your reaction. You licked your lips as his eyes dragged over you. Grabbing the hem with both hands, he pulled the jumper off over your head. He flung it across the room. You were left in your thin combinations and trousers. Immediately, his lips were back on yours. He held your hips as he backed you toward the desk. His fingers flexed into your curves as he memorized the feel of them.

As your bum hit the desk, his hands slid up your back, leaving a trail of fire. He pressed his body flush against yours, eliminating the remaining space between you, and he gave an involuntary shiver. Holding you was like stepping into a warm home after a hike through a snowy forest. Breaking your kiss, Sebastian dipped his head to press his lips along your collar bone. His tongue darted out, tasting the salt on your skin. A moan escaped your lips, and he smirked against you.

“Shut up,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything, love,” he replied before nipping at your skin.

You breathed in a sharp gasp before he recaptured your lips. He slid his tongue forward, licking into your mouth. He groaned with need as he tasted you, whispers of the tea and chocolate pudding you’d had at dinner meeting his tongue. He’d imagined it on countless nights, but now he had the real thing. Then he felt you smirk.

He brought one of his hands around to your front and palmed your breast through the thin cotton covering it. He could feel your nipple perk up at his touch.

“Sebastian,” you whimpered as you panted for breath.

Much better. He quickly began on the buttons lining the front of your undergarment. “Need something, darling?” he asked as he pulled your top open. He brought his hands to cup under both breasts as he kissed down your sternum. He peppered kiss over each mound, avoiding where you’d be most sensitive.

You were keening continuously. Your hands tangled in his hair. He could feel you trying to guide him gently to where you wanted him.

“You need to say it, love,” he said firmly.

You let out a frustrated whine. “I want you to k-kiss me,” you managed.

Sebastian kissed your lips briefly. “Like that? Or here?” He kissed your shoulder.

You shook your head urgently. Your teeth had sunk deep into your bottom lip. The desperation in your face made Sebastian’s cock jump.

He kissed the inside of your breast, then looked at you expectantly.

You let out a pathetic groan. “Please, Sebastian.”

Your whole face was scarlet, though he wasn’t sure if it was from need or embarrassment.

He took mercy on you and latched onto your nipple, massaging his tongue into it as his hand kneaded your other breast. Your moan echoed through the underground chamber. He worked your clothes off your shoulders as his tongue flicked back and forth over your nipple. Your top half was stripped bare. Sebastian released your breast and leaned back to admire you. He took in every contour with reverent attention. His saliva glistened on your skin, but the sheen was already fading.

Using your purchase in his mane, you pulled Sebastian into another heated kiss. He let you explore his mouth with your tongue as he worked to undo your trousers. He moved down to your shoulder, tracing down the long lines of your neck on the way there. He sucked a dark mark into the top of your shoulder, a much more lasting sign of his presence with you.

Your hands shot down to his shoulders, and your nails dug into his jacket. He slid his own hand into your unbuttoned trousers, slipping underneath your combinations and down to your core. He groaned at how slick it was.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel so fucking good.”

You moaned as his fingers slid through your swollen folds. He found your nub at the apex and stroked over it languidly. Your hands on his shoulders tightened, and your head fell back. Your breathing grew more and more ragged as he switched to quick little circles.

“Oh gods, Sebastian!” you cried.

“That’s it,” he praised. “I want you to come for me, MC. Can you come like this?”

You nodded eagerly as a whine escaped you. Your lip was back trapped between your teeth, and your eyes were screwed shut.

“Look at me,” Sebastian demanded. He wanted to watch you fall apart. Your thighs were trembling, and he suspected you were close.

Your eyes snapped open.

“Good girl,” he said. “Let me see you. See what I do to you.”

“Fuck, Seb! I…I’m…” you tried. You cut yourself off with a cry of pleasure.

Your hips jerked against Sebastian’s hand. Your eyes had glazed over, but you kept them open. You keened and panted as your orgasm flowed through you.

“Thank you. You’re so beautiful,” Sebastian whispered before pressing a kiss to your temple as he slid his hand out of your trousers.

You laughed. “I should be thanking you.”

He gripped your waistband with both hands, hooking his thumbs underneath your combinations, as well. “May I?”

“Gods, yes!” you replied.

He tugged the clothes down your legs, crouching down and helping you step out of them along with your shoes and stockings. He kissed your thigh tenderly on the way back up. As he stood, you began unbuttoning his waistcoat and tugging his shirt out of his trousers.

Just then, your wand started buzzing in your pile of discarded clothes. Your head snapped in its direction. “Fuck! I’ve got to get going,” you said.

Sebastian pinned your hips to the desk with his own. “If you think I’m letting you run off to see Weasley before I’m through with you…”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s detention, not a social call.”

His jaw tensed. “We can do this here, or I can come and fuck you in front of Weasley and Sharp. And I don’t think you want to be expelled, so you’re not leaving until my cum is running down your thighs so that the next time you think of accepting a jumper from Garreth bloody Weasley, you’ll remember the feeling of my cock inside you and your tits in my mouth and think better of how you cover them.”

You were staring up at him with lust-blown eyes. “Merlin, you’re such a prick!” you chided, even as you were undoing his belt. You added under your breath, “It shouldn’t be so hot.”

Sebastian grabbed you under your arse and lifted you onto the edge of the desk. He leaned over you as he gave a punishing kiss, laying you back in the process. Gods, he would snog you for hours if you had the time. As he stood back up, he undid his trousers and pulled himself out of them. He held your thigh with one hand and the base of his cock with the other. He allowed himself to stroke his head through your slick folds a few times before lining himself up at your entrance.

You were propped up on your elbows and staring in awe at where your bodies were about to be joined.

Sebastian pressed forward, sinking into your heat. Finally. It was like sliding into a warm bath after a rough fight. “Merlin, it’s like you were fucking made for me, MC!”

Every thrust into you was pure bliss. Your tits bounced with every rock into you, and Sebastian couldn’t resist bending down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth again. He was pleased with the moans that poured from your lips. The pace of his hips suffered, and he didn’t have the time for it, but he kept sucking on your perfect breast, anyway. And he couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry about it. It was the first time he got to have you – though, it definitely wouldn’t be the last if he had anything to say about it – and he was going to enjoy it fully, damn it!

He moved to kiss your lips, slipping his tongue back into your mouth to remind himself how you taste. Then, he finally righted himself and focused on the task at hand. With a bruising grip on your hips, he pounded into you over and over. He watched as your body clung to him while he pulled back before disappearing inside once more. All he could think about was filling you up. Marking his territory from the inside out. Because now that he had you, he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. You were finally his – just like he’d been yours since fifth year.

“You feel incredible, Seb!” you moaned, your back arching off the desk as you’d long abandoned propping yourself up.

“I’m gonna make you come again,” he vowed in a strangled voice, making you whimper in anticipation. “That’s it. Be a good girl and come on my cock.”

He released one of your legs, which wrapped around his waist as he thumbed your clit. Your breath hitched. “Fuck, Seb!”

Your thighs began to tremble, and your chest was covered in a sheen of sweat. Sebastian’s teeth sank into his lip. You looked positively delicious as you neared your peak. The noises you made were obscene. Your body writhed in pleasure. Your cunt was clamped around him. He felt ready to explode. But he knew you were close, so he did everything he could to hold off his own climax. But it was so hard. You were in ecstasy because of him. The fact made his head spin and his cock ache.

Your breathing halted altogether as your body tensed, and then suddenly you let out a keening cry and gasped for breath. Your walls fluttered around him, and Sebastian went rigid as he came with you. Waves of pleasure crashed through him as he hissed out a string of expletives.

He collapsed forward, exhausted. You drew him into a kiss with a hand on his cheek. It was slow but still full of passion as your mouths melded together. He rested his forehead on yours and panted in your breaths like he was stealing the air straight from your lungs.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips.

He kissed you again, and then nuzzled his nose against yours when he pulled back. “I love you.” The words had bubbled up, unable to be contained in his throat. All air left his lungs with their escape. Instead, they filled with panic.

“I love you, too, Sebastian,” you admitted. “I think I have for a long time.”

He could breathe again. He scooped you into his arms and just held you against his chest. He never wanted to let you go. He pressed a kiss to the love bite he’d left on your shoulder. You let out a contented sigh as your hands rubbed up and down his back lazily.

Suddenly, you tensed. “Fuck! I’ve got to go!”

You slid out from under him and began collecting your clothes. Sebastian fished his wand out of the wreckage and summoned the jumper. He mended the cut from his severing charm and vanished your blood from the sleeve. He’d rather rip it to shreds, but he knew you’d want to return it intact. He slid off his suit jacket and transfigured it into a Slytherin jumper.

“Have you seen–?” you started as you looked up after doing up your trousers. Your face broke into amusement as you saw Sebastian holding out the emerald jumper to you.

You took it and slid it over your head.

Sebastian smirked at you. “Green’s much more your colour,” he asserted.

“That makes two of us,” you quipped, winking at him as you pulled your cloak on.

You snagged Garreth’s jumper from Sebastian and rushed for the door.

“What? No kiss goodbye?” he asked.

You spun around, smirking at him as you walked backwards. “I’ll need to wash up properly after detention. You can meet me in the prefect’s bathroom. I think you’ll quite enjoy just how – and where – I’d like to kiss you.”

Sebastian’s pulse jumped. His eyes darkened as they fell on your lips – his witch’s lips. He was still speechless as you slipped through the gate, chuckling at him.

Several thoughts were running through his head all at once. The first was that Ominis would kill him if he found the Undercroft in this state. The second was that you were in need of a date to the Halloween Dance. The third, and most important, was that he should thank Garreth for his inadvertent assistance in getting you to admit your feelings for Sebastian – and tell him to keep his sodding wardrobe to himself.

[geekwritersworld]

Little Artist

Pairing: Peaky Blinders x you (more mentions of Tommy and you though)

Warnings: fluff, one liner angst at the end (I am incapable of not adding angst to everything I write)

Summary: As stated below in the request. @anne-17890

Hello, I could ask one in which the younger sister of the Shelbys, maybe she is 14/15 years old wants to be an artist and she has a lot of talent but the family does not know but the art teacher one day calls the Shelbys at school to talk about her sister and they discover her talent and that she received a letter from a private school in London to study on full scholarship. Thank you for your time

A/n: I've taken forever for this request and I am so sorry about that. My only defense being that ADHD is an absolute pain in the rear :)

Do let me know what you think ❤️

You weren't much of a reader, you didn't care much for music nor did you like being stuck around your siblings all the time. And of course they didn't let you anywhere near the business so you spent most of your time by yourself. You tried out new things, hoping something would stick and become a hobby. And on a whim one day you decided to try your hand at art.

And at some point it stuck. You began frequently drawing, improving yourself each day. And it was becoming more than a hobby. So to escape you turned to art; to the one thing you found almost calming. To express your emotions and to sketch what you pictured the world beyond small heath looked like.

And you were exceptionally good too, you realized. You were grateful for that, of course. Your siblings occasionally noticed your work at the table where you'd forgotten them on late nights and ensured to compliment your skills when you woke, but lately you made sure to conceal your work.

Despite your classmates keeping their distance from you knowing you were a Shelby, you managed to make one good friend-Nancy-to whom you'd grown quite close.

You both found common ground in your love and flair for art. So you'd both spend time at Nancy's house, making mess of her living room floor with all the art supplies. Sometimes you left your sketch book with her, not wanting your brothers fussing over your art.

Taking up an art class at school without the knowledge of your siblings you found solace in the art room. You weren't sure what was keeping you from letting your family know of your art skills. Sure they knew you could sketch and create art, but they never knew the extent of it. They never knew of your capability to create hyper realistic images on paper with mere pencils everyone used everyday.

Of course, Nancy was sworn to secrecy to never reveal to your family. But it wasn't through Nancy that the Shelby's ultimately found out of their youngest sisters talent.

It all began on a particularly dreary morning. When you were relieved you'd left your sketch book with Nancy due to the rain drizzling down on the way to school.

That damp afternoon you walked home knowing something you hadn't that morning and you avoided walking home with Nancy aware that she'd ask you questions about why you'd been pulled aside that morning in school by the head.

"Now Y/n" The professor sat you down with the head on the other side of the table listening intently. Sitting down, hesitating at first, you wondered what you'd done.

"We wanted to talk to you Ms. Shelby" she paused " about what you plan to do once you've finished school" You almost wanted to laugh, if you didn't know any better, you'd assume she was literally sitting on the edge of her chair with how intently she waited for your response.

"You mean for university?" you asked confused.

"Yes" she nodded

"well I don't know really, I haven't given it much thought seeing that I have a few more years to go" you said, nervous.

Your professor smiled kindly and looked at you. You still wondered why you arts professor was here, talking to you when you were due in math class.

"Thing is, your art" she cleared her throat " your artistic abilities are admirable. It's very rare to see such talent" she continued "and we've ..er.... communicated with one of the universities in London, and they're want to offer you a full scholarship in arts, should you chose to enroll at that university, we've received a letter from them as well, for you"

You stared at her, your mind blank. You expected to see John burst into the room laughing at you for the joke they were played on you. Surely itwasn't...it couldn't be.

"what" you rasped, throat drying.

Smiling wider, the head this time, pushed an envelope towards you "here"

Reaching forward with a hesitant hand, you slipped open the envelope and began to read the letter that resided inside.

Once you'd scanned the letter and read the words over and over you held on to it.

"could I keep this?" you mumbled

"of course" both women said unison.

"can i think about it? if that's alright" you looked at them.

Nodding the professor responded "of course!"

So you took your time. Or rather you avoided your professors. Rushing out the moment school was done, reaching at the last possible moment- making sure to take an extra long route to school; you did everything you could to avoid your professors and best friend.

You made excuses and tried avoiding Nancy as much as you could.

You wouldn't tell your family. They didn't need to know.

Of course Aunt Pol noticed your sudden odd behavior. She noticed you were home more often than usual, you didn't sit in the living room as much you used to, and coming home earlier from school than normal and you'd been avoiding your family; barely talking to them anymore.

Pol and Tommy knew you were a shy kid, you had been your whole life. However you were never this quiet with you family, especially with him and Arthur.

Frustrated Tommy slammed the pen down on the table making one of the men in the betting shop to flinch. He couldn't stop wondering what was wrong with his youngest sibling. He didn't get it. Were you in trouble?

Why were you more closed off than usual? Tommy knew you were too much of a Shelby to directly tell them even if they asked you what was wrong.

He got up and decided he needed some fresh air- and a cigarette.

Tommy wasn't sure where he was heading until he got there.

Exhausted, not to mention surprised that your arts professor had walked right past you that morning, you thought it was odd since you'd been avoiding her for over a week; deciding not to dwell on it too long you put your things together and got ready to leave.

You looked forward to going home and getting some sleep and perhaps even meeting Nancy later on.

Once classes were let out, you slipped your bag onto your shoulder and bolted for the door but stopped short when you spotted your older brother standing near the gates looking straight ahead at you.

Standing still as the rest of the children rushed past you- some even knocking into you, you remained still until Tommy tilted his head at you releasing a puff of smoke from his lips.

Taking in a deep breath trying to push through the mist of confusion in your head you walked towards him "what are you doing here Tom?"

You occasionally called him Tom instead of Tommy, and sometimes it bugged Tommy but in a way it was endearing plus if there was one person he'd tolerate referring to him as Tom it would be you.

"No reason" the look in his eyes told you different.

Rolling your eyes, you moved past him, intending to walk home "why didn't you tell us?" Tommy's footsteps were slow behind you against the wet gravel.

"what?" you snapped your head to look at him, your fingers turning cold despite the humid air.

"I think" Tommy caught up to you slowly, staring ahead "you know what."

"so she fucking tattled" you snorted suddenly "how mature for a grown woman" you were infuriated but nervous at Tommy's reaction.

"she didn't have much of a choice considering I asked her how you were"

"Why the fuck are you asking my professors how I am ?!" you looked at Tommy like he was deranged. Maybe he was, you didn't know. All that smoking and drinking was probably catching up.

"Because you won't talk to us" your brothers nonchalant attitude was beginning to frustrate you even more.

"Well you never asked did you?" you sassed.

Tommy stopped walking and you stopped a few steps ahead of him turning to look at him "would you have told us if we asked?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes "no" you mumbled "fuck off" and continued walking.

Tommy let out a mirthless chuckle.

The rest of the walk back home was in silence, you could feel your brothers eyes boring in the back of your head and you did your best to bite your tongue and not snap back at him.

Shutting the door behind you Tommy spoke with an uncharacteristic soft tone "y/n"

letting your shoulders drop, you took a deep breath to avoid crying then turned to look at Tommy.

"Look, Tommy, I'm not going so leave it alone" you walked into the kitchen and picked up a glass to pour yourself some water.

"Why not?" Tommy leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

Instead of responding you stared right back at Tommy with unrelenting gaze that you knew your aunt held so often with your brothers too.

After a minute of the two of you standing and staring at each other in silence you said " 'cause I don't want to go. Now let it go will you" Pushing past him you went up the stairs to your room.

You didn't see Tommy again that day until the next morning when you opened the door with your school bag in hand and almost walked into him standing right outside your door.

"morning y/n" sarcasm laced your brothers words.

"What?" you narrowed your eyes looking at him.

"You" he reached forward and pulled your bag off your shoulder " are coming with me today" he shoved your bag onto your bed and put his hand on your shoulder.

Your eyes widened "where" you looked at him

He didn't respond rather he nudged you out of your doorway and downstairs.

"There's the bloody artist!" Arthur shouted when he spotted you coming down the stairs.

you immediately turned to glare at Tommy and caught him rolling his eyes at Arthur.

"Where ya goin' Tommy?" Arthur ignored the obvious annoyance his siblings felt toward him in the moment.

"Nowhere" Tommy mumbled

Taking his distraction from you as an opportunity you ducked from under his hand on your shoulder and bolted back up the stairs.

"Y/N" Tommy yelled bolting after you. Arthur laughed watching Tommy run after you.

Rushing into your room in time, you slammed the door shut and locked it. Ignoring Tommy's knocking on the door.

Grabbing your bag you slid open your window and threw it out. And then slipped your left leg out the window and securing it safely on the edge you ducked and climbed out completely, still hearing Tommy ordering you to open the door.

Managing to climb down safely, you dusted your clothes and turned around and walked right into Aunt Pol standing there arms crossed watching you, not impressed, and Tommy stood behind her smirking.

"might want to take the front door next time " John snickered walking out to where the three of you were.

"Right" Aunt Pol moved forward while guiding you back into the house- through the door- she continued "you're going with Tommy, I don't bloody know where he's taking you but he's told me it's important".

"But I have school!" you fought back " for which I'm probably late thanks to Thomas" you exclaimed.

"well then you better go along with him quickly so you don't have to skip another day" Pol smirked.

Truth was, Tommy knew, that Pol of course had noticed the change in your behavior as well no doubt, and when he told her last night that he was going to pull you out of school for the day for something important, she didn't argue knowing her nephew must obviously know something and if he wasn't telling her now he would later.

Tommy didn't tell her cause he wanted you to tell them yourself. He didn't want to push you away any further by revealing something you still preferred keeping to yourself.

You knew it was hopeless fighting back if Aunt Pol was involved and siding with your brother.

Grumbling, you let your bag fall of your shoulder, put it on the sofa and turned to Tommy "fine" you stomped outside.

Tommy, who had a cigarette in between his lips, let out a puff of smoke and then walked after you.

Slamming the door shut to the car, you sulked. Your frustration grew stronger the more you kept thinking about Tommy doing this because of yesterday. You didn't understand why he couldn't just let it be.

Tommy didn't speak at all on the drive, he juts looked ahead. And you didn't bother asking him where he was taking you. You were too stubborn to ask. Instead, you leaned your head back against the seat and closed your eyes.

Having fallen asleep you didn't realize how long the car ride was, and only woke when Tommy nudged your shoulder calling your name.

Looking out the window yawning, you felt your breath hitch the moment your eyes adjusted on the massive building in front of you. The red bricked building stood in front of you with a field of grass stretching wide in front of it. The grass was greener than you'd ever seen grass to be. You opened the door and got out standing still, afraid that if you moved you'd wake up back in your damp room in Birmingham. The air, it was-clean- it wasn't damp with a lingering smell of something stale, like in small heath.

Tommy watched you take in where he'd brought you. His chest tightened noticing the disbelief in your eyes. He felt a sudden rush of pride and love. He wanted this for you. He wanted you to be able to get away from small heath. He wanted you to have this, he knew you deserved it more than anyone.

You'd kept to yourself your whole life. Content with the little you had, never asking for anything.

And god, Tommy knew you were so smart and capable of making something of yourself. He didn't understand why you didn't want this -or rather- why you were refusing it when it was being handed to you.

He so desperately wanted you to go here. Moving to stand next to you, he put his arm around your shoulder.

"What do you think?"

You were too struck with amazement to actually speak aloud, instead you whispered "I don't know"

And you didn't. You wished so desperately to go here now that you'd seen where you had the opportunity to come. But the same questions haunted you in the back of your mind, how would your family be able to afford financing your stay. Just finding a place for you to live would be a big expense.

You couldn't ask this of them. You couldn't move to live such a life in London, when your family would still be breathing the toxic fumes of small heath.

Tommy could almost feel your longing. To come here, to make a life for yourself. But he couldn't figure out what was holding you back, why you were adamantly refusing, why you hadn't told them either.

He couldn't understand it.

"Would it be selfish Tommy?" you whispered, shifting your weight on your left leg.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows "no it wouldn't" he said softly.

He didn't think his heart was capable of breaking again, but apparently he learnt that it was the moment you asked him that question. It broke his heart to think that you were willing to let your future go just because you thought it would be selfish to ask this of your family. Because you didn't want them to spend their money on your education.

"I want to come here Tommy, I really do" you couldn't help it anymore. You turned to look at Tommy, tears brimming your eyes and you slipped your hand in his and held it tightly.

He wasn't expecting to see the tears in your eyes, so when you slipped your hand his, a few seconds later he let go and instead slipped his arm around your shoulder again and pulled you into his side.

"then you're going to come here eh" he rubbed your shoulder.

"How are we going to afford it?" you hiccuped.

"you're the first Shelby to be offered a fuckin' scholarship and that's what your worried about?" Tommy chuckled.

You were always the more grounded Shelby, but it never occurred to him just how far your selflessness went.

"Listen to me" he made you look at him "we'll afford it alright, we've got more money now than before and by the time you have to leave we'll have even more, plus I've got Ada a place you could stay with her, after she finds out I've got her a place of course"

"Tommy-"

"It's not for you to worry about money, you leave that to us" your brother clarified.

You said nothing further but continued leaning into your older brothers side until he finally asked you if you were ready to leave.

Watching the building fade past you, you turned back around looking in front "they know then?"

"Only that you've been told you've got exceptional art skills" he gave a small smile.

You were grateful he hadn't told your family of your scholarship opportunity yet "thank you".

You spent the trip back to Birmingham wondering how you'd tell your family. You were beyond nervous and the bundle of nerves only worsened as Tommy turned into the familiar streets of the Small heath.

When the car came to a halt you almost refused to get out but you had to get out at some point. So you did. With shivering legs and a pounding heart.

Only when Tommy nudged you into the pub did you realize that you'd never told Tommy that you were going to tell your family today. But somehow he knew you'd agree once you'd seen the place you were being given the opportunity to go to. And seeing your family gathered at the table when you entered the pub only confirmed this realization.

"Ada will be here soon" Tommy walked over and sat down next to Arthur-a decision he knew he would regret the moment you told them.

The chair scraped against the dark wooden floor as you took one from another table and sat down. In the same instant that you sat down, Ada strolled into the Garrison, taking off her hat.

Once she'd sat down grumbling about how this better not be a meeting revealing one of Tommy's fuck ups.

But Tommy had rolled his eyes and clarified "we're here 'cause Y/n has something to tell us"

You sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling, and then looked back at the unflinching gaze of your entire family focused on you.

"right-um-well" you cleared your throat and shifted slightly in your chair. "I-um" you began bouncing your knee.

You realized in that instant that the only way you'd be bale to tell them was if you didn't look at them directly and avoided the look of disappointment they'd inevitably express at your selfish-ness of asking something like this of them.

So instead you looked at your fidgeting hands and came out with it in one breath "I've been offered a scholarship to a university In London for-um-art and I've decid-thought of taking it"

There it was. The heavy disappointed silence. Your heart dropped at the silence. Even Harry it seemed had stopped wiping the bar behind you.

You could hear everyone's breathing in the loud silence, more so you could hear your own heart beating quite rapidly and were sure everyone else could too.

"A shelby going to bloody university!" Your head snapped up to meet Aunt Pol's tear brimmed eyes. She was beaming, and you realzied you'd never actually seen a smile on her that actually reached her eyes- before this that is.

The relief washed over you like a wave, you could physically feel the relief in your skin, your shoulders felt lighter and you felt as htough you were giong to start fully sobbing at any second.

Arthur sat stunned for a few more minutes while Ada and John hugged you, raving about how proud they were of you. Finn congratulated you Arthur seemed to come to and started literally bellowing out of happiness. You were pretty sure he was just making noises and not even shouting proper sentences, "little one's going to fookin' University!", Tommy instantly took a deep breath looking at the ceiling standing up.

Chcukling, you said "I'm not litt-oh" Arthur hugged you tighter than he had before, unable to contain his happiness for you and you had to tap him on the shoulder letting him knowing you couldn't breath.

Once he let go John, Finn and Ada continued talking excitedly making lists of things you'd need for university, and you leaned your head past Arthur and looked at Tommy who was now leaning against the wooden beam; smiling at you.

"how come you got a scholar-whatever-it-is and I didn't?" You heard Finn say behind you.

"Maybe cause you never fucking went after the first day of 6th grade" John laughed, making Finn roll his eyes.

You however walked to Tommy and engulfed him in a hug. Squeezing him as tight as you could. And Tommy did the same.

He looked up at Pol who and gave him a nod. Tommy knew it was his aunts way of letting him know he had done the right thing in doing whatever he had done to convince you to get away to a better life.

"hang on" Ada said then "we've all been here talking about how fuckin proud we are of you for your scholarship, but we've barely seen your bloody art"

So of course the next thing you knew you were being dragged down to watery lane to show them your art book. Which you didn't have, seeing as you'd left it at Nancy's so John then accompanied you to pick it up and watched you tell Nancy you'd explain everything later.

John was itching to grab your book from you and take a peek on the way home, but he also knew you would chew his ear off for it and decided against it.

The moment your family's eyes glimpsed the first page, they proceeded to compliment you, but Ada made it a point to let you know you were a downright arse for keeping your work from them.

Tommy and Pol stayed up that night, long after everyone else had gone to bed- after Tommy had carried you to your room.

Sitting down next to his aunt with a drink, he leaned back on his chair.

"y/n's going to have a better life Pol" Tommy sighed, smiling a little.

"god knows if there's anyone that deserves it more than anyone, it's that child." Pol nodded.

And he knew it was true. He doted on you from the moment you were born. When you opened your eyes and looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, Tommy swore he would kill for you.

And not once since did he take his job as the older brother for granted, if anything he always went the extra mile to make sure you were safe.

Of course the rest of your family protected you too, but Tommy like always, went beyond what was necessary sometimes. But he would rather do too much than too little and end up having you hurt.

A few months later, it was this very habit of Tommy's, the one that kept you safe for 15 years, that made the new Irish Inspector in small heath, watch you from the alley as you walked home one evening.

[cookierunauprompts]

I just finished watching King Kong (2005) and this idea hit me like a truck: Shadow Milk Cookie as King Kong and Y/N Cookie as Ann Darrow!

i have never seen king kong but i sorta understand like... the tiniest bit about it.... So uh, Reader's getting kidnapped for this one as that's pretty much the only thing i know from King Kong.

Requested Prompts #44 - 💓

" White Lily Cookie! Don't! It's a trap!" You try to scream out, but no matter what you say nothing can reach White Lily's ears as she was trapped within your captor's maze. You watched as the flurry of the new guardian's magic went towards the fake tree, reviving it almost instantly to the shock of the eerily real-seeming fake Shadow Milk Cookie. You were the only one to have realized that it was fake, so he'd given the group a question that he knew they'd get wrong no matter what. Thus he'd taken you prisoner back in the 'real' world, one that looked a lot like the world within the Maze of Deceit except the key difference was that there was a lot more goopy, abyssal shadows littered with blue eyes staring at everything. You silence yourself with a yelp as one of the beast's fingers press into your head, because yes he does have actual hands apparently. " Ah ah ah!" You heard him tut, " I don't believe that this play needs any input from the audience, does it now?" Shadow Milk hummed, bringing you up to his face so you could look into his calculating gaze. " Besides, they can't hear you anymore anyways, so why even bother?" You hesitate, he was right and you knew it. You almost instantly deflated, your prior determination to escape filtering out of you like air from a balloon with a hole in it. " Aw, you look so cute when you're all hopeless like that! It's almost making me reconsider your position as prisoner!" He cooed, poking at your face with his claw(not the tip of it though). " I doubt that there's anything worse than being a prisoner to you." You groan, leaning away from his touch. A shriek is pulled from your throat as Shadow Milk grabs onto the sliver tree, or at least what remains of it. He spins around it like those character in musicals sometimes do with poles before hoisting himself up to sit between the branches as if they were a throne. " I' wouldn't be too sure about that~!" He teased, holding you up in front of his face. You doubted that, and it showed on your face. " No offense, but I doubt that there is." You said rather un-enthusiastically. " You really think so?" The beast grinned in an almost wild manner, you got the feeling you said something you really shouldn't have. " Because i can think of a lot of things! Of course, I won't be listing all of them for the sake of our family friendly audience. But there are much worse fates than being a prisoner to me!" " Like... like what?" You asked hesitantly. " Hmm..." He leaned in close, eyes shining brightly as he stared down at you. Some kind of deranged hunger slipping into his expression as he did so. " Like being a little snack." You froze up, the pause between that and his next statement being far too long for your liking. " Oh I'm only joking! There's no need to fret, I don't intend to cannibalize you... yet." You squeaked with fear, leaning away as much as you could as he threw his head back into a maniacal laugh. " Oh you're just so gullible- it's adorable!" He mused, a grin that was still far too wide plastered on his face. " I think I might have to keep you, even if Silly-Lily tries to seal me back up in the tree for real!" Well, at least now you know that unless the others save you you're probably screwed. Yippee.

[armoricaroyalty]

Rosalind of Armorica: The princess will see you now

Crown Princess Rosalind wants to become the most accessible member of the Armorican royal family. Is she ready for the pressure?

It’s hard to escape Crown Princess Rosalind. The 27-year-old heir to the Armorican throne is seemingly everywhere: cutting ribbons at hospital wards in Nordienne, meeting with conservationists and gamekeepers in the highlands north of Bortaine, smiling on the cover of glossy supermarket tabloids.

The omnipresence is part of a deliberate strategy, according to the Crown Princess. “We can’t hold ourselves apart from the people we serve,” says Rosalind. “We need to be hypervisible. We have to be real to our people, not just faces on stamps.”

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note: I never do recreations, but I did recreate this 2021 Tatler cover because it was just really striking. Thank you to @warwickroyals for sharing the Tatler graphic with me!

article continues below the cut!

Of course, hypervisibility is nothing new to the mega-popular heir to the Armorican throne. Already a superstar within her home country, Rosalind rose to international prominence after accompanying her father on a state visit to Uspana in November 2017. At just 27 years old, she is already considered one of the most accomplished living royals. In 2012, she graduated from the elite Allard University with dual degrees in economics and music performance. Two years later, she launched herself into full-time royal work, quickly racking up 34 patronages, ranging from the national ballet to the Ministry for Sustainable Energy. Last year, she completed over 400 engagements on behalf of her father. In terms of extracurricular activities, Rosalind is an accomplished tennis player, speaks six languages fluently, composed the score for ANN’s upcoming documentary on sustainable energy Green Horizons, and owns an international real estate portfolio valued in the hundreds of millions.

Sitting across from me at a private supper club in the tony Pearl District, she brings a relentless, focused energy to our conversation. Everything about her conveys poise and intensity, from her impeccable posture to her ad-exec smile to her sensible suede pumps. Her favorite rose-shaped brooch (purchased by her great-grandfather in 1962 and worn by both her grandmother and great-grandmother) adorns the lapel of her cropped jacket, which the diminutive Crown Princess has paired with wide-legged trousers. Her smile doesn’t waver as the conversation turns to her relationship with her father.

"We have very different styles. [My father has] never given an interview, and well, look at me now!”

“His Majesty is very supportive,” Rosalind says. “We work together very well, and in the last few years, he’s really come to rely on me.” It’s a bold claim for a member of the normally self-effacing and media-shy Armorican royal family, but it’s backed up by the numbers: including his weekly visits with the prime minister, the reclusive King of the Armoricans carried out just 131 engagements last year, approximately one third the number completed by the overachieving Crown Princess. “We have very different styles,” she laughs. “He’s never given an interview, and well, look at me now!”

"I suppose [my parents] meant well, but [my upbringing has] been quite a disadvantage."

Crown Princess Rosalind is the oldest child and only daughter of Andre, King of the Armoricans and former hockey pro Elise Sutton. According to Rosalind, the King and Queen—then the Duke and Duchess of Arbor—tried to give their children an “informal upbringing,” away from the pressures of royal life. “I suppose they meant well, but it’s really been quite a disadvantage,” she confesses. “When I meet my peers internationally, it’s very clear that they were more directly brought up to rule. I used to feel so behind. I’ve had to work hard to catch up.”

“Was it difficult, growing up as a member of the Royal Family?” I ask.

“No,” says Rosalind, hesitating. “But I think that it was difficult to be royal in my family.”

“I think that it was difficult to be royal in my family.”

[youroomwasquare]

Marcy Wu, and Why Her Unfinished Character Arc Worked.

I'm gonna ramble a bit about our favorite newtopian ranger, marcy wu!!

so. I, like many others in the fandom, was a bit disappointed with how the show handled marcy's growth and character arc. it felt rushed.. incomplete, and overall messy. I felt that marcy's growth wasn't given the same attention and care that anne & sasha's growth was. coupled with the overall tragedy of marcy's character and role in the story, I was feeling extremely discontented with marcy's character.. until I realized that the show writers may have unintentionally made that the point of marcy's arc.

because LISTEN. out of all of them, marcy was the one who came away with the least positive things from amphibia. she didn't connect with her amphibian charges (she even admits it herself in the finale, and says that she wished she got to know them better), she was more focused on the technical and worldly aspects of amphibia, and while she did come into her own, she wasn't able to address and tackle her underlying core issues in the way that anne and sasha were. --

the two main themes of amphibia are learning to embrace change and letting go. and all the story arcs of the calamity trio showcase this in different ways (that's a discussion for another time, however). of these two themes, marcy's arc leans more towards the letting go aspect. but here's the thing. that was her main problem. marcy's greatest fear is being alone, and her greatest flaw is her inability to let go. marcy couldn't FATHOM a world without anne and sasha. they were her biggest support system, and by moving, marcy was essentially stranded. she had a hard time connecting with people, and she didn't have the social skills that anne and sasha did. so to her, moving was the absolute WORST thing that could have happened. she was unable to live in a world without anne and sasha, and so she didn't. she chose to take matters into her own hands, and as long as she was able to get anne and sasha on board, everything would be fine, right? wrong. we obviously saw how catastrophic that was, both for marcy and everyone around her. it was beat into marcy's head repeatedly how reckless and stupid and downright fatal her mistake could have been, how fatal it was. marcy's biggest lesson in amphibia was that there are some things you will have to let go of. no matter how desperately you latch onto them, there will always be claw marks left behind.

--

my point however, is that this was marcy's only major flaw. marcy was a flawed character, deeply flawed in some ways, but from what I observed, she was never flawed in the way anne and sasha were. outside of her major flaw.. marcy was a pretty well rounded person. and of course, there is growth to be left desired, but most of marcy's (visible) flaws were communication, and the ability to make yourself be truly seen in a friendship.. and they aren't really even flaws. more just things she needs to work on.

unlike anne, she didn't have self-esteem issues. she was pretty confident in her abilities and her interests, as shown by the first temple. surrounded by the right people (which at the time, were unfortunately not anne and sasha), she would've flourished. and in amphibia, she did. because for once, she was allowed to be the person she truly wanted to be. and unlike sasha, she didn't have horrendous control issues. anne and sasha's flaws are what I like to call character flaws, flaws that are innate and come from you; ie, they aren't as a result of other people's actions. anne and sasha were allowed to address and properly correct their character flaws because amphibia (and the places they landed in) was the perfect environment for them to see their flaws and to see the consequences that came with them. sasha learned that trying to control everyone and everything around you will only drive them away, and end up destroying both them and you in the process. her strength came from lifting people up, allowing them to rise WITH her instead of pushing them down like she used to. anne learned that self love is important, and in order to become the best version of yourself, you need to surround yourself with love, and in turn, it will come back to you. anne's heart comes from the people around her. their love allowed her to give love tenfold-- both to herself and the people around her. their major flaws only got resolved because of amphibia.

but marcy? her main flaw, which is letting go? that could not be resolved in amphibia, no. because amphibia only amplified this flaw. because choosing to go to amphibia, making the conscious decision to run away, is the entire reason why this flaw is most prominent. marcy flourished in amphibia, yes, but she was never able to address her major flaw. because of a multitude of different reasons, of course, but also because to marcy, amphibia was another out. another way to run from her problems instead of facing them head on and dealing with the fallout. anne dealt with the fallout. she stood up to sasha, for ONCE in her life, and watched her plummet down a cliff in return. (this is a weak point, but for the sake of parallels, I can't take it out.) sasha dealt with the fallout. she betrayed anne, once, twice, and was forced to go back to wartwood, anne's town, with the knowledge that she and anne are no longer friends, no longer anything. marcy's way of dealing with the fallout.. was not the core. to many, the core may be a physical personification of all of marcy's flaws coming back to bite her in the behind, but I disagree. the core was a cruel, merciless, and downright horrible way for marcy to learn her lesson, yes, but the core was not the fallout. the fallout, that showed marcy the consequences of her major flaw, was in true colors. was in the throne room. was in watching anne and sasha's faces twist into horror and disgust, respectively. the fallout was in living with the fact that everything she did was for nothing, and that she still had to live in a world without anne and sasha, that in her mind, they now hated her. that was when marcy hit rock bottom. and when you hit rock bottom, you have nowhere to go but up, right?

--

marcy did atone. in the core, in the face of everything she could have ever wanted being handed to her on a silver platter, she said no. she swatted aldrich’s hand, and said that for once in my life, I'm not going to run away. I'm going to face this head on. and why did she do that, pray tell? because of anne and sasha. because everything that marcy wu did depended on anne and sasha. because in her mind, even if they hated her, she'd rather face their potential wrath instead of accepting a reality without them. the real them. it's natural, of course. her major flaw was not of just letting go. it was letting go of anne and sasha.

--

and so, the reason why marcy wu's major flaw could never be resolved in amphibia, is because amphibia is a personification of marcy wu's major flaw. sure, she had good moments, and things about it she will always cherish and remember (and less good things that she’ll always remember), but marcy wu could not start getting better, could not start healing, until after she left amphibia. going through that portal meant many things, for all of them, but for marcy, I think it represented her final act of truly letting go. of letting go of her escapism, and her tendency to run away. of letting go of the old version of her, who came to amphibia with the intent of being with anne and sasha forever. going through that portal also symbolizes the end of that version of their friendship, the version that marcy kept chasing after. and I think that’s one of the many reasons why the only way to close off marcy’s journey, at least from our point, is by having her move. the move, and how marcy dealt with it, was what started this entire, crazy journey. and by choosing to have marcy move at the end of the series, even after everything that happened, is a brilliant move from the show’s writers. because it shows that marcy truly did learn from her time in amphibia. she HAS accepted and is taking the steps to overcome her major flaw, and I think more than anything, that is proof of the growth that marcy is capable of. marcy acknowledges that anne and sasha changed, yes, but through her actions and words, she also acknowledges that she changed as well. going through the portal, going back to earth, facing everything is a symbol of marcy's growth. because the marcy we were introduced to would have never done that.

--

going to amphibia changed all three of them. and even though we only get to see anne and sasha’s growth, marcy’s growth is SO poignant as well. I think it was for the best to leave marcy’s arc unfinished, because it shows that she still has a lot to learn and a LOT of healing to undergo. marcy’s final arc in the show has drawn to a close. but her character has not. and the amount of opportunities, possibilities, lessons, friendships, love, and more, are limitless. I also think it's poignant that we're left with a sort of open ended interpretation as to what happened to marcy after she moved. as for her friendship with the girls, I have many thoughts on that, but that’s also a discussion for another time. I think I’ll close it off by saying that moving was good for marcy in a different way as well: it allowed the calamity trio to truly come into their own. their reconciliation with marcy in all in was proof that they want to give their friendship another try, and that they are better off in each other’s lives. but showing that they drifted apart, came back together, and redefined their friendship on their own terms is beautiful. I think even without amphibia, they eventually would have to come apart. not forever of course, but long enough to carve out their own paths and figure out what they want to do with their lives. I know the fandom loves the idea of them being codependent messes together (it’s also a guilty pleasure for me lol) but I LOVE the fact that in canon, they allowed their childhood friendship to morph into something new, something better. in the wise words of anne boonchuy, change can be difficult, but it’s how we grow. but of the things you let go, you’d be surprised what makes its way back to you.

not to get all sappy, but out of all of them, I think I’m the proudest of marcy. and I relate to her a lot! so writing this was extra personal :,)

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

MC!Reader x Sebastian Sallow (platonic!)

Sebastian was definitely keeping a wide berth from you, you knew this much. What you didn’t know was why. He had been trying to sort out all his dark thoughts, his tumultuous feelings, the guilt of what happened to his uncle and losing Anne, possibly forever. You had done so much for him, he had realised this now. However, you had your own troubles and burdens; the loss of your dear Professor Fig, and well, the entire battle against Ranrok in general. He thought you certainly wouldn’t have time for his emotional problems too. Especially, after how he had treated you in the weeks leading up to those tragic events. He realised how selfish he had been and thought staying away from you would be helpful.

It was driving you absolutely crazy. The fact that the boy you’d given everything to would just now walk by with just a glance and a curt nod. It was worse than anything. More than once, you found yourself tempted to cast a basic cast (or even a confringo) at him just to get him to respond to you, react in some way to your existence.

In the weeks leading up to the end of term, you realised that without Professor Fig, you now didn’t really have anywhere to go once the Summer holidays arrived. You certainly couldn’t go back to the muggle orphanage. Originally, you had been planning to ask Sebastian and Anne if they’d speak to their uncle Solomon, about letting you stay… but clearly that wasn’t going to work anymore. You couldn’t ask Ominis, because he was trying to escape his family, and Poppy had her own issues with family. You thought of then asking Natty, but after she had literally taken a cruciatus curse for you, you weren’t quite convinced that Professor Onai would be willing to have the living, breathing reminder of it staying with them for the whole summer.

So, who had been left? In the end, you plucked up the courage to ask Imelda Reyes. Shockingly, the Quidditch obsessed witch had warmed up to you and had agreed, but only under the strict pretence that you would have to fly together a lot and let Imelda practise Quidditch as much as she pleased with you.

Of course, you felt you had no choice but to agree. However, in between these flying practices, you were finding yourself bored, restless and still thinking endlessly of Sebastian, of Ominis and Professor Fig. You needed something to do, desperately. So, one evening you had pulled out the old familiar field guide that Professor Weasley had given you at the start of your fifth year, and you decided to set a quest for yourself; specifically, to complete all the Merlin trials before the start of your sixth year.

It started out as a fun little distraction, but as the weeks drew on it became more and more like a desperate obsession. Sometimes, you’d spend hours trying to solve them, refusing to eat, drink or rest until you had solved that particular trial. You were slowly but surely running yourself ragged over these damn trials.

It didn’t take long for Imelda to be concerned after your flying times started slowing down, and Imelda being Imelda, she certainly didn’t hesitate to call you out on it. More than once she had uttered, “You look awful, Y/N.”

On this particular day, you planned to solve two Merlin trials that were close to Feldcroft. They were too close for your liking to the village Sebastian grew up in, and you had been wanting to avoid it for a long time, but at this point you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to solve them. You had to solve them all.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was sat outside on the grass by his house, reading a book. He looked up to notice the familiar outline of you flying on your thestral overhead, looking positively wild. Curiosity and concern piqued, he closed his book and decided to try and follow you. It took him a while to track down your trail, only having the vague idea of what direction you were going in, and he sighed in relief when he saw the thestral hoofprints that soon evolved into your familiar steps.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he saw you, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating the scene he found. You sat there on the stony cobblestones of the Merlin trial, almost in tears and muttering to yourself. “Where are you?” You frantically whispered, as you started rapidly casting confringo and incendio at literally everything. “There must be another! Why aren’t you working?” You muttered again, growling in frustration.

You stood up to turn and cast confringo once again, as you heard something behind you, but before you cast, you gasped in shock and your wand fell from your hand, clattering onto the cobblestone. Both of you stood there, staring at each other, neither of you sure what to say.

The longer you both stood there in silence, the deeper Sebastian’s brow furrowed in deep concern as he looked you over. “You look awful.” His words echoed in your mind like he was Imelda’s parrot.

“Thanks very much, you don’t look so great yourself.” You retorted, sighing slightly, his words affecting you more than you’d care to admit.

An awkward silence passed between you. “Why are you here?” Sebastian asked, stepping forward. “Why are you here?” You countered defensively, taking a subtle step back. “Saw you flying overhead, got curious.” Sebastian replied nonchalantly, shrugging slightly.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

As soon as you said it, you outwardly cringed, feeling like it was very inappropriate in the circumstances. Your flushed face looked around for an escape.

“I’m sorry, that was-” “No, it’s okay.” You tried to apologise, but Sebastian cut in before you could finish. Another awkward pause ensued.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in Feldcroft? Shouldn’t you be back at home or wherever.” You kicked the ground with your shoe as you tried to think of a response, stammering slightly. “I can’t go back. Was going to stay with Fig, but obviously that didn’t work out.” You forced an awkward laugh, burying a sob that threatened to surface. “I’m staying with- well, it isn’t important. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” You turned away from him, considering the conversation over.

“You’re trying to solve the Merlin trial, aren’t you?” Sebastian said it as more of a statement rather than a question, as if he already knew the answer. You raised an eyebrow, feeling as if he somehow knew what you had been up to this whole time. “Yes, I am. Trying to, anyway. This one is impossible!” You paused, looking at Sebastian’s face with suspicion. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he replied. “That’s because I'm not. Ominis has been writing to me the whole summer with updates about various… things.” At this he paused, a small, sly smirk appearing on his face. “He told me that he’s heard about several sightings of the Hero of Hogwarts-” “Don’t call me that.” You interrupted him, muttering under your breath as you grit your teeth, your face contorting with disgust at that name. “Okay… sightings of a certain person flying around the Scottish highlands and mysterious ivy arches appearing in your wake.”

You turned back completely to face him fully, your mouth gaping open, your shoulders slumping down. “Recently his letters have been sounding more concerned. People are worried about you.” Sebastian sighed loudly, restarting his sentence. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be, I’m fine. Just passing the time, that’s all.” You replied, a little more hostile than you had intended. Sebastian shook his head, reaching for you as you stepped back. “Why are you doing this, Y/N?” Sebastian stepped toward you again. “Why not?” You retorted, your voice raising slightly.

“You’re taking it too far, Y/N. It has become an obsession. It has got to stop.” He pleaded with you. “You hypocrite! This is harmless!” You cried out, shaking your head in disbelief, “You’d know all about taking things too far, wouldn’t you?!” He stopped, shaking his head with a grim expression, knowing that he probably deserved that comment.

“What happens when you’ve finished all of them, Y/N? What then?”

A heavy silence passed between you. You suddenly sat back down on the ground, completely stunned by the question as if you had just taken a stupefy to the chest. In all this time, you hadn’t actually thought about it. You presumed it would take the whole school holiday, but you only had eight trials left to go, and three weeks to do them in. You’d be done, for sure, before then.

“I don’t know.” Your voice sounded small and strangled, as you looked up to the sky which was beginning to darken for the evening. “I have to solve them. I just know I have to.”

At that moment, Sebastian spotted the missing fire pillar that you’d been so fervently seeking. “It’s over there.” He pointed to it in defeat. You immediately threw powerful confringo spells at all the pillars. The arch reveals itself and you sighed in immense relief, finally smiling.

Sebastian smiled along with you. “That’s very satisfying.” He admitted. “It is, for a few seconds. Then I feel empty, hollow, and craving more.”

“So, you look for the next one to find that joy for a few more seconds.” Sebastian shook his head. “That’s a slippery slope you are on, Y/N.”

“I know.” You stared up at the sky, doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“Come back with me, it is getting dark.” Sebastian offered, turning around and walking away, not looking back to see if you were following him or not. For whatever reason, you found yourself silently following him back into Feldcroft. He could hear your footsteps behind him, but chose not to say anything.

As you gingerly stepped through the front door of the familiar house, you immediately felt the intense pang of a bizarre mix of guilt, nostalgia and longing. It was strange to walk in and not see Solomon pottering about, to not see Anne sat on her chair or her bed. “Do sit down.” Sebastian offered, and you hesitated, looking between your remaining options. Instinctively, you avoided Anne’s usual seats.

A cup of tea and an apple was thrusted under your face. “Eat. Drink.” Sebastian practically commanded, the undertone betrayed his deep concern. You looked up at him quizzically. “You look like you need something sweet. I know you like them.”

You tried to smile, but it fell rather flat. As you sat and nourished yourself in silence, a heavy oppressive feeling sat on your chest. “How can you stand it?” You blurted out suddenly, turning to look at Sebastian. He raised an eyebrow, inviting you to elaborate. “Being in this house, alone, I mean.”

Sebastian simply shrugged, moving to lean on the kitchen countertop. “Because I have no choice. These were my actions, and now I must suffer the consequences. I learnt the hard way that some things just cannot be changed.”

“I don’t think I could do that.” “Do what?” “That.” You vaguely gestured at him. He chuckled. “It seems after everything, I still have new things to teach my charge.” A smile and small blush appeared on your face as you thought back to your first trip with him to Hogsmeade. “Ah, there’s the elusive smile I’ve been looking for.” “Stop it, Sebastian.” You smiled despite your words.

The atmosphere already felt a little lighter and a weight felt like it had finally been released from your shoulders. This. This feeling is what you’d been searching for all summer. Sebastian gave a soft smile, kneeling down so that he was eye-level with you. “Y/N, I promise to solve the rest of them with you, together. I want to turn this all into a positive memory for you.”

You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He gasps slightly, surprised by the motion, before he returned it. “You already have, Sebastian.”