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greensagephase · 1 year ago

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Nonviolent Communication - Part Six

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: A few weeks after your first mission with Miguel, he shows up at your apartment to show you something.

Word Count: 10,161 (Someone needs to take my laptop away from me. I promise this will be the longest part. I won't let it happen again.)

Warning: Soft Miguel; Sad Miguel; It made me wish for summer to end even more; Some readers may not recognize some food items mentioned but it's not too important for the plot, however, you can find a guide right here if you want to know what they look like; Slight mention of abuse

Music inspo while writing:

"Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (I love this song so much. The Gaby and Miguel edits with this song make me want to sob each time 🥹)

Part Six

The trees in your city slowly change colors as the weeks go by. The greenery of summer fades only for nature to offer its orange, yellow, and red hues on your morning patrols. The sun retreats into hiding sooner, while the moon and stars emerge earlier, lighting the early, chilly evenings. It’s finally autumn. Coffee and book shops play autumnal music in the background as quiet and intimate conversations take place in small, cozy corners. The sweet scent of cinnamon and coffee fills the air. People walk the streets wearing cozy and warm apparel, coffee in hands to provide warmth. When you walk on the busy sidewalks of your city to buy groceries, you see the lively colors of autumn behind condensed window displays. You take notice of the faux autumn leaves and twinkling lights. The sight of mums and pumpkins meets you here and there.

You begin to go out to bookshops more often. You spend time with your friends, both outside and during work. Your friendship with them grows stronger. They visit you in your universe as you start inviting them for dinner at your humble apartment. You slowly begin to talk about Peter with them, feeling easier to bring him up each time you do so.

Many weeks have gone by since your first mission with Miguel. It’s not the last one. You find yourself going on missions with Jess, one other person, and him once a week now. You are no longer surprised by it. It’s normal. One week he assigns you to the same side of the city he works on, the next one he doesn’t. It’s a pattern. Each time you work on the same side, he suggests that the two of you swing through the city when you’re both done scanning for anomaly matter.

It's part of the surveillance and learning plan he has implemented, of course. So, this makes perfect sense. Every other week, you find yourselves on the tallest building’s rooftop, overseeing the city. Sometimes you talk briefly. Sometimes Miguel tells you about anomalies that have been caught from that universe in the past, before your recruitment into the Spider Society. Before you knew of each other’s existence. Other times, it’s you who tells him about anomalies you have caught with other colleagues. You listen intently to each other’s words as a form of respect and trust.

You continue to organize Miguel’s lab. With the weekly assigned missions, your time organizing his lab, and the minutes before scheduled meetings that add up, you begin to spend roughly four hours around the founder and commander of the Spider Society each week. You continue to take coffee for meetings, arriving early as always. Miguel sometimes talks to you about the anomalies from the previous week before anyone else arrives, your conversation ceasing when other ears enter the room. Sometimes you take food to him when you arrive to organize the lab. Miguel is no longer surprised like he used to be about the coffee cups, or like the first time you took him empanadas weeks ago. He accepts the food, and thanks you.

Without fully realizing it, there’s a shift between the two of you. So subtle, like the changing leaves of trees in autumn.

It’s the first of November. You walk around your apartment with your fall playlist playing in the background as you do random chores even though it’s ten at night. You do laundry you needed to catch up on. You put away the little amount of Halloween decorations you have. You wash dishes and clean the kitchen. You fix the throw blanket on your couch. You dust your furniture. It’s all a bunch of random chores that you’ve been meaning to do but have been too busy to get done over the week due to missions, patrolling your city, and Halloween. A lot of petty crimes occur on the holiday because people think they can get away with it if they wear costumes.

You’re also hit with a random spur of energy, so you take advantage of it. You move quietly around your apartment, your music filling the space that would otherwise be silent. As you clean, you think about how different this year has been compared to the last three years. You especially think about this as the holidays are right around the corner now. For once in three years, you have plans for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Peter and Mary Jane are hosting Friendsgiving at their universe. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited you and the rest of the group for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to their building’s party and then again for New Years.

It's been so long since you even celebrated. You found no point since it was just you and you cut off your friends from your universe. You smile as you clean thinking how it will be different this year. You can’t help but stop and stare at one of Peter’s photos on the wall. He would be happy, you think.

You’re in your bedroom now, putting away random objects that have made other areas of the apartment their home for days when a multidimensional portal opens in your living room. You sense it. You walk out of your bedroom just as the floating objects in your living room fall back into place. The portal is fading now.

Miguel stands in the middle of your apartment. His eyes take in your living room, lightly decorated for the autumn season. He spots a few pumpkins and faux leaves on your bookshelf. He can smell the scent of autumn candles as the music plays softly in the background. He finally turns around, looking for you, it seems. His gaze falls on you, meeting your eyes.

“Miguel. Is everything alright?” you ask, as you stand just outside your bedroom.

Miguel looks around for a second at the fallen objects. He gives you an apologetic look before he speaks. “Everything is fine.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. It’s past eleven at night and your boss just showed up. Randomly. Or at least it seems so. You see Miguel’s eyes scan you briefly, probably noticing that you’re still in normal clothes and not pajamas despite how late it is. His eyes meet yours again as he briefly thinks about how this is officially the third time he has been to your apartment. You are officially the only colleague he has visited these many times in such a short amount of time. He doesn’t let himself think too much of it now.

“Are you busy right now?” he asks at last, quietly.

“I was just doing some chores so, no…” you say, unsure of where this is going. He said everything is fine. He is calm. That means there’s no threat to the multiverse. No need to change into your suit right away.

Miguel nods and sighs so quietly, you barely register it. “I would like - to show you something,” he says, still meeting your eyes.

You stand there for a second or two, processing what he just said before you nod slowly.

“Should I change into my suit?” you ask, still unsure of what’s going on, but Miguel shakes his head.

“No need to change.”

You nod. “Oh, okay. Then – I’m ready,” you say quietly, still standing just outside your bedroom.

Miguel nods before he clicks on his gizmo, opening a portal again. The portal opens. Its lights shine brightly around your apartment and objects begin to float again. You quickly grab your own gizmo, sliding it on before you approach him. He motions for you to enter first and as you do so, you briefly wonder if you should’ve grabbed a jacket as your sweater is on the lighter side. Your worry melts, however, as you step into Miguel’s lab, where it’s warm. You sense Miguel right behind you, so you step to the side. Your eyes scan the lab, trying to figure out what Miguel wants to show you, but you see nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, you don’t know what you’re looking for.

Miguel is standing next to you now as the portal’s colors and lights begin to fade away. You look over at Miguel and find him looking down at the floor as if thinking. You wonder then. What is he trying to show you? Whatever it is, it seems that he might be reconsidering.

“If you’re not comfortable showing me, it’s okay,” you say quietly, not wanting him to feel pressured to show you now but he lifts his gaze to yours and shakes his head softly.

“No – I want to show you,” he says quietly, and you nod.

Miguel nods back before he turns and starts walking deeper into his lab. You follow him, giving him some distance just in case he changes his mind. He walks to a side of the lab that’s not usually trafficked by people, behind his platform. Your curiosity grows with each second as you walk around it, a few feet behind Miguel. Your nose is slowly overwhelmed by a rich and sharp scent, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. Miguel looks behind his shoulder as he finally stops walking. You see it then, or part of it as Miguel’s body covers some of your vision because he’s a few feet in front of you.

“You can come closer,” Miguel says, sensing that you’re still too far away.

As your eyes take in what you can see in that moment, you immediately know where the scent is coming from when your eyes fall on marigold flowers.

An ofrenda, as Miguel had said weeks ago when you were celebrating Peter’s birthday. You suddenly remember. It’s the first of November. Dia de los Muertos. Your mind flashes back to that moment. You were cutting Miguel a second slice of cake, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing when he spoke.

“I also…” Miguel said, pausing. “I celebrate Dia de los Muertos, I don’t know if you -” he paused, and you nodded then, indicating you knew what he was talking about as you put the slice on his plate. “I make a small ofrenda for them.” You placed his plate in front of him, meeting his eyes. “So – it’s not – Don’t feel as if…” Miguel said, trailing off and you nodded.

He had shared that with you then, to make you feel less embarrassed. To assure you, you weren’t alone in remembering, celebrating, and honoring Peter even after his death.

Your eyes flicker to Miguel for a few seconds, his attention is back to the ofrenda. You step closer, keeping your eyes on him, as you do so. You stop, standing a few feet behind him still, not wanting to invade his space. Not wanting to invade his ofrenda, his act of remembrance, celebration, and honor for his loved ones.

Sensing your reluctance to walk closer, Miguel speaks in a hushed tone.

“Y/N… you may come closer,” he whispers.

You stand still for a few seconds and then walk closer, stopping next to him. Your eyes take in the ofrenda as you’re able to appreciate it more now that you’re closer to it. Miguel’s ofrenda is absolutely beautiful and you can see the effort he put into it as your eyes take it in.

The ofrenda is made of two levels, both are covered in a bright blue fabric. Sheets of tissue paper in lively colors were cut into intricate patterns and hung from the edges of both levels. You notice the second level holds four photographs, which are in physical, wooden frames. Despite the advanced universe of your boss, Miguel O’Hara still used physical, wooden picture frames for his ofrenda. For some reason, that makes you feel tenderness towards the man next to you. Your eyes move from each picture slowly. The first photo your eyes fall on show an older woman. You take in her appearance, noticing some of her features are familiar. Miguel’s face flashes in your mind. His mother, you realize, knowing nothing about her. No one knows anything about Miguel’s family. It isn’t something that Miguel ever talks about.

Your eyes move to the other end of the level, falling on the photograph of a young man. He was handsome with one of those cheeky, boyish smiles. You notice he looks on the younger side and you can’t help but wonder if Miguel once had a brother.

The two photos in the center show people you have seen before. Two individuals you know a little about.

Gabriella and Miguel’s wife. Your eyes fall on Gabriella, noticing that her photo was more centered on the ofrenda. You notice the decorations then. Small sugar skulls made of clay fill the gaps between each photograph. Marigold flowers serve as a pop of color behind the picture frames and clay sugar skulls. Lit candles light up the ofrenda on both levels. They flicker softly, creating a soft and intimate moment.

Your eyes fall to the lowest level. You still find marigold flowers, sugar skulls, and lit candles but there are other items in front of each photograph. You remember that on Dia de los Muertos, loved ones place food, drinks, and other objects that those who have passed away enjoyed in life. In front of his mother’s photograph, Miguel placed a plate with food, surrounded by fruit like apples and oranges. A glass bottle with an orange drink was placed next to it. When you move to the young man, who you are almost certain is Miguel’s brother, you spot tamales, a drink, and two pink pieces of bread in the shape of a seashell. Pan dulce. There are also these thin, bright yellow candy-sized packages next to his drink. Your eyes almost miss it but there’s a scarf looped around the plates with food. When you look back at the photograph, you notice the young man is wearing that very same scarf in his photo.

You move to Miguel’s wife. She, too, has a plate with food, different from the others. You cannot help but wonder… Did Miguel cook their favorite meals? Once again, tenderness washes over you as you imagine Miguel spending the day cooking and setting up his ofrenda. You finish looking at Miguel’s wife section, seeing some candy and a drink, too.

It's Gabriella’s section that really strikes you, making a bittersweet feeling rush through you as you scan her section. There are three plates of food. You don’t recognize the food in one of them but the other one you do. Pancakes with chocolate chips on top. Your mind flashes back to months ago, when you entered Miguel’s lab after he found out that Lyla had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of Gabriella and his wife. He had mentioned Gabriella loved his breakfasts, especially pancakes with chocolate chips, when he was telling you a little bit about her.

Your heart aches as you continue to stare at the pancakes. You swallow the knot that has begun to form in your throat. You tell yourself to calm down. You know Dia de los Muertos is not about grief. It’s about celebrating those who have passed away. Remembering and honoring them. A night for loved ones to visit and spend time with those who are still alive.

You sigh quietly as your eyes move. You spot more items in Gabriella’s section. There is quite a bit of candy, which makes you smile. You spot small, green and white, bottles with pointy red lids. There are small packs with bright pink tablets, which remind you of gum. Your eyes fall on two lollipops. They have a clown face printed on it, showing a chocolate covered marshmallow with gummies as a face. There’s more candy, like those thin bright yellow packs you saw on the young man’s side. Your eyes move to the last plate. Gabriella also has the same kind of pan dulce found on the young man’s plate: two pink seashell-like pieces of bread.

There are also drinks in Gabriella’s section. You find tiny see-through bottles, almost the height of your pointing finger with a beige liquid and red letters printed on the outside. There’s also a tall glass of what looks like chocolate milk, next to a short, blue container with an animated character printed on it. And finally, there’s a large mug of rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon. Arroz con leche.

It doesn’t stop there, however. The bright blue fabric covers some of the floor and right there you find toys and other random objects. Your eyes immediately fall on a soccer ball, reminding you that Gabriella loved to play soccer and was part of the soccer team at her school. You smile as you keep your eyes on it for a few seconds. You spot children’s books on the side, noticing that some of them fall under the science genre.

You remember that Miguel shared with you that Gabriella loved science and enjoyed reading. There are other toys of course, like dolls and small animal figures. Your eyes fall on one item specifically though. A small acoustic guitar. You briefly wonder if little Gabriella liked to play the acoustic guitar but of course, you don’t ask about it.

Your eyes take in the ofrenda again, all of it now. Miguel did a beautiful job. You smile softly at the sight and the fact that Miguel went to your apartment tonight to show you his ofrenda. He’s honoring his loved ones in his own way, and he invited you to be a part of it. The same way you invited him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Miguel move. He slowly gets on his knees in front of the ofrenda, with a soft sigh before he rests his body over his heels. You notice he’s looking straight ahead at Gabriella’s photo. You slowly drop to your knees, too, and as you stare at Gabriella’s photo you speak, breaking the silence.

“It’s beautiful, Miguel,” you whisper softly in Miguel’s quiet lab.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, softly.

The two of you stare silently at the ofrenda. The candles’ wicks flicker softly, still casting soft shadows on the photographs. You think about Miguel’s loved ones. He has lost so many people even before Gabriella and his wife. You can’t help but wonder now, how lonely was Miguel that he inserted himself in another world?

You have never judged him and never will for this. However, you cannot help but feel heartache for him. He has lost so many people. Why did life take so much from this man? This man, who you have begun to know better with each passing day, who was soft, loving, kind, and caring on the inside? He didn’t show these traits much these days, but you have received his kindness before.

He showed you kindness the day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. It wasn’t Jess who sent him. He had shown up on his own. You still wonder about that. How he had asked you not to bring it up to Jess so he wasn’t caught in a lie. He didn’t want you to know he had done it because he wanted to or because his true, hidden traits had led him to do it. Ever since he lost Gabriella and his wife, he was distant and cold, unwilling to attach himself to anyone again. Except, his true self was still there, hidden under the surface of his coldness and unattachment.

He made appearances sometimes. Like that day at your apartment. Or the day he talked about Gabriella to you when you walked into his lab, not knowing he was having a bad day because of Lyla’s secret. Or on Peter’s birthday. And there were other moments you hadn’t been around for like the time he allowed Gwen Stacy into the Spider Society. Even though he didn’t want her to be a part of it because of her connection with Miles, Miguel allowed her recruitment because of the issue with her father and her Spider-Woman identity.

That version of Miguel made his appearance today. Miguel O’Hara spent his entire day working on his ofrenda for his loved ones. He cooked. He cut the tissue paper. He printed out the photos and placed them in picture frames despite being able to simply display them with screens. He picked out the marigold flowers. He bought drinks, candy, and toys. He put together his ofrenda.

As the two of you kneel before it, there’s a shared understanding between the two of you. There’s comfort. Vulnerability. Trust. A bond between the two of you that has been forming over the last months strengthens.

You sigh softly as your eyes land on the soccer ball again. Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down to see your face. He sees you looking at the soccer ball.

“She loved playing soccer, so I bought her one,” Miguel mutters quietly, and you nod.

“I remember. She played in the soccer team,” you say softly.

Miguel nods, feeling a warm sensation wash over his chest as you mention that fact. It has been many weeks now since he shared that with you. And you remembered.

“I think – she must be very happy to see her favorite breakfast,” you add, looking up at Miguel.

He looks down at you. You remembered that, too. Miguel nods before turning away slowly. He has never shared much about his life with others. Not with Jess or Peter, who were already a part of his life back then. They knew some parts of his life of course but he had never gone into much detail. It had been too painful. It was easier to keep it all to himself, put away at the back of his mind while he exhausted himself with work to keep his emotions at bay.

You are the first one he has shared some of those days with. Miguel can’t help but think about the first day he met you. Jess introduced you and of course, he had thought you were the opposite of him. You seemed so happy and alive despite having lost someone. He had been so wrong about you. You carried your own grief and loss but hid it so well.

Either way, had someone told him that he was going to be opening to you in so many ways back then, he would’ve laughed. He wouldn’t have believed it, but it was true. He has opened up to you. And you remember. You listened to him. You didn’t ask questions. You understood.

Miguel sighs softly, looking at the photographs. You knew of his wife and sweet Gabriella of course but not of his mother or Gabriel. Little Gabrielito. Miguel shakes his head softly at his brother’s photograph, thinking how he left too soon.

Miguel clears his throat, turning slightly to you now. This catches your attention, so you turn to face him.

“The young man – that’s my brother. Gabriel, or as I called him, Gabrielito. He passed away a few years ago,” Miguel shares.

You offer Miguel a sad smile, not speaking. Not wanting to discourage Miguel from sharing.

“He was my little brother,” Miguel says. “He was such – a pain on the butt sometimes but he always meant well. He was always cheery. Kind.”

You nod, wanting to say that you could tell just by the cheeky smile on Gabriel’s face. Miguel notices that you seem reluctant to speak. He thinks about how respectful you always are. Again, you never ask questions. You never overstep his boundary lines. And hell, his respect for you grows in that moment even more. You are a good person. You are kind. Miguel fails to notice it, but his heart beats a bit faster. You are the closest he has to a friend these days even though he doesn’t fully realize it. You are the only person he was willing to share this moment with because you allowed him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration. He wanted to reciprocate the gesture.

And, as he stares down at your face, he realizes that he wants to hear your thoughts. He wants to know what you think. He wants you to ask questions because he feels comfortable with you. The firm boundary line he has established and maintained for so long, crumbles in that moment for you.

“You can talk, you know,” Miguel says softly, prompting you to offer him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to intrude or overstep. I know how delicate and personal these moments are,” you respond truthfully. “Thank you for letting me in on your celebration,” you whisper, and Miguel detects the sincerity in your tone.

He nods. “You made me a part of Peter’s birthday celebration … I wanted you to be a part of mine,” he answers softly.

You nod once again, giving him a brighter smile. “Thank you,” you whisper, meaning it.

Not everyone understood of course but you understood each other. With his words coming back to you, about being able to talk, you sigh softly before you speak.

“Your brother – I can tell he was cheerful with that cheeky smile,” you say, turning to Gabriel’s photo.

Miguel’s eyes fall on his brother’s smile. It was indeed cheeky.

“Since a kid,” Miguel shares. “He always had that smile. It never changed throughout his life. There were always at least two girls who had crushes on him when we were kids because of it,” he says fondly, his mind going back to days that were long gone when Gabriel and he were still in school.

You chuckle lowly. “I can imagine it got him into some trouble with the girls,” you say, smiling, unable to stop yourself from also thinking of younger Miguel. You wonder what he was like when he was a teenager. You wonder if he also had girls crushing after him, and you are immediately confident he did. If Gabriel had the girls crushing, there was no doubt Miguel definitely did, too. You have never thought of Miguel in that way but even though you have never thought of him like that, it doesn’t mean you are blind. Miguel is an attractive man to say the least. People, mostly women but even some of the men in the Spider Society, talk about it sometimes. Even if you hadn’t noticed it yourself, you are sure you would’ve at one point with the questionable conversations you overheard sometimes in passing when colleagues thought they were being discreet, except they weren’t.

“Believe me, it did. I once had to come to his rescue because this girl’s boyfriend thought he was flirting with her,” Miguel says, shaking his head, missing his brother. “But he wasn’t like that. He was a good person. A good man.”

Miguel thought of Gabriel when he allowed himself to think about the past. He loved his brother even when there were tensions between them.

“He was the better brother,” Miguel mutters. “He was kind. Unselfish.”

You can’t help but get hung up on the word “unselfish.” Did Miguel think he was selfish?

When he thought about Gabriel, Miguel couldn’t help but wonder what his little brother would have said about what he did. He was so selfless and compassionate. If there is a Heaven, Miguel fears that Gabriel must have disagreed with his decision. With what he did in Gabriella’s universe.

You sense a slight shift in Miguel’s mood, even when your mind is still stuck on the indication that Miguel feels like he was the selfish brother of the two. You feel the urge to keep the mood light. You don’t want to see Miguel sad or upset, so you speak up.

“He sounds like a wonderful person. I think I would’ve liked him a lot,” you start, looking at Gabriel’s photo before looking down at the yellow candy packs. “I see he and Gabriella liked the same candy,” you add softly, hoping to lighten his mood again.

Miguel, staring at his brother’s photo, briefly thinks about what you said, and he agrees. In fact, Miguel can’t help but think that Gabriel would have befriended you was he still alive. You were both warm and happy people. Unselfish, he thought again.

“Gabriel would have liked you,” Miguel says, knowing this is true. “I think you two would have been great friends,” he says pausing for a few seconds. “And yes – they’re called Pulparindos. It’s made from the pulp of tamarind fruit. Gabriel loved them. I swear he ate like four a day. He always had some with him,” Miguel says with an amused tone but there’s no smile on his face. “Imagine my surprise when I found out Gabriella also loved them,” he adds fondly.

You nod, that’s why both Gabriel and Gabriella had the same kind of candy then. You also feel somewhat pleased with the fact that Miguel thinks his brother would’ve liked you.

“We would go to the store, and she always made a beeline for the candy aisle. I could never say no to her,” Miguel says, his voice still laced with that fondness as he thinks of the times they went to get groceries. “We made an agreement. She could have one piece of candy each day but no more. She always respected the deal.”

You stare at Gabriella’s photograph. She’s in the frame alone, smiling at the camera. Again, there’s that toothy smile you remember from weeks ago. Your heart aches for her. For Gabriel. For Miguel’s wife.

For Miguel… who didn’t have the luxury of visiting all his loved ones at the cemetery, you suddenly realize as the two of you remain kneeling on the floor. Miguel couldn’t visit his wife or Gabriella. There were no bodies to be buried. No funerals.

Your sudden realization cuts deep into your soul. You cannot imagine what you would do if you were in his shoes. If you didn’t have at least that small comfort of knowing that Peter rested somewhere in peace. Or the comfort of being able to visit him whenever you wanted or needed to. Or the comfort of talking to him, even when you know your stories are heard by silence.

Miguel had none of that when it came to Gabriella and his wife. Your heart feels heavy with pain for Miguel. You have never thought of this and to be honest, no one else has either. Miguel was expected to move on eventually but how could someone move on when they didn’t even have the chance to mourn properly? How could anyone move on when they didn’t have a place to visit their loved ones?

It has been those small things that you have taken for granted that have helped you during your mourning period. Those comforts that mostly everyone who loses a loved one has but for Miguel… it’s not true. He doesn’t have any of those comforts.

You feel the sudden urge, for the second time in months, to reach out for Miguel. You want to comfort him. You want to hold him in your arms and tell him how sorry you are that this has happened to him. That you are sorry that he has lost so many loved ones. That he lost his wife and Gabriella, his loving family.

You want to tell him that he deserves so much more. That he deserves a family and happiness. And that he’s not selfish for wanting these things. You want to hold Miguel, and take away his grief, sadness, guilt, and any other negative emotion he still carries with him.

You just want to comfort Miguel.

Your hand, which has been resting on your lap, rises slowly, involuntarily, in Miguel’s direction. You freeze for about two seconds, realizing what you are about to do. You bring your hand back to your lap discreetly, or at least you hope it was discreetly.

You cannot comfort Miguel in the way that you usually comfort people because he doesn’t do physical touch. No matter how badly you want to rest your hand over his and let the gesture speak for itself, you know you can’t. Or rather, shouldn’t. You don’t dare break his boundary line as you return your attention to Gabriella’s photo.

Beside you, Miguel also stares at his daughter’s photo. His mind has paused the memories and instead, is overtaken by the fact that you were reaching for him just seconds ago. He didn’t fail to see the way you stopped yourself. He senses it’s not because of impropriety or even changing your mind about it but for another reason.

As Miguel stares at Gabriella’s photo, he wonders how you know. Perhaps it was Jess, he realizes. Perhaps she mentioned that he cannot do physical touch these days. And you, as always, respected his space. He silently appreciates your respect and the fact that you wanted to comfort him. He sighs softly. It’s been so long since he has been comforted by someone physically.

The last time he felt another person’s skin was… with you, he realizes, remembering the day he checked up on you. That day, for once, he allowed his hand to be bare so he could feel your face, to check if you were running a fever. That was the first time he had felt another person’s skin in a really long time, and there hadn’t been any other instances since then. He remembers how natural it had felt to press his hand to your forehead regardless.

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears your stomach grumble, making him turn to you. He narrows his eyes slightly as you slowly look at him.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

You shake your head, embarrassed, thinking about how you had an early dinner and that was hours ago. “No. I ate something a few hours ago. It was just my stomach being – weird,” you say softly and Miguel stares down at you, knowing you’re lying.

Before you know it, he gets up with ease. “Hold on,” he says walking away and around his platform.

You wait there, not knowing where he’s going on, or what he’s doing. It’s a few minutes later that Miguel returns. You hear his footsteps and turn around to find Miguel carrying two cups and two plastic bags hanging from his right wrist. Noticing your furrowed brows at the sight, Miguel walks over to you and hands you one of the cups.

You immediately feel the warmth of the drink before the scent of coffee fills your nostrils when you take the cup from his hand. You look up at Miguel, with curious eyes but he doesn’t say anything as he kneels next to you again, this time much closer than before, you notice. Miguel places his own cup to the side before he pulls the plastic bags off his wrist.

“I only made enough of the food for them…” Miguel says, pausing and nodding at the plates with food. “But I did get extra of this,” he says, opening one of the bags and showing you.

You catch a glimpse of pan dulce, which you have tried before. You meet his eyes again as he moves the bag closer to you. He motions for you to get some.

“I know you’re hungry,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “Please.”

You feel reluctant but then again, the pan dulce looks too appetizing to say no to. You nod slowly and reach into the bag, grabbing a pink, round seashell like piece of pan dulce.

“Those are called conchas,” Miguel says as he sees what you chose. He turns to the ofrenda. “Gabriel and Gabriella loved those. Especially the pink ones.”

You turn to the ofrenda, returning your attention to the pink conchas you noticed earlier on Gabriel and Gabriella’s sections.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, holding the cup of coffee and pan dulce, feeling embarrassed. You wonder if this is how Miguel felt the first couple of times you took him coffee and then in the last couple of weeks food.

Miguel’s head turns to the side to look at you. “You’re welcome,” he says softly before he, too, grabs a concha.

He looks away from you as he breaks a piece of the pan dulce to make you feel comfortable. He knows you were lying to hide the embarrassment of your hunger, so he turns away to give you space. He brings a small piece of the concha to his mouth, the pan dulce reminding him of his childhood when his mother made hot chocolate for Gabriel and him. Miguel remembers how Gabriel and him always looked forward to autumn and winter because the food was better. They got hot chocolate with pan dulce; tamales of all kinds, including his favorite ones, which were the sweet ones back then because he loved the sweetness of them and the fact that his mother added food coloring to make them colorful; they also got buñuelos, and pozole amongst other delicious foods.

Miguel brings the piece of pan dulce to his mouth as he thinks of the past, of his childhood. He didn’t think too often about it but when he did, he tried to only think of the memories that included Gabriel. He didn’t like to think of other memories that included the man he once thought was his father. The same man whose last name Miguel still holds to this day. Other memories included his mother as well. Some were from the early days of his life and then from her last years when they had grown closer once there were no more secrets and lies between them.

It was just his mother and Gabriel. Neither his stepfather nor biological father were thought of. Nor were they on his ofrenda. He couldn’t bring himself to add them to the ofrenda that was for those he loved and cherished dearly. Those he missed.

“That was my mother,” Miguel suddenly says once he finishes eating the small piece of concha, remembering he hasn’t talked about her. “Her name was… Conchata.”

You finish chewing the small piece of bread you, too, broke off. You nod. “She was beautiful,” you say as you turn your attention to her photograph. You can see Miguel got a lot of her features, as did Gabriel. You don’t say anything about the fact that there’s no sign of his father, not knowing Miguel had a stepfather as well.

“She was… We didn’t have the best relationship for some time, but things changed in her last years. It was often a problem between Gabriel and I in those years. He always tried to remain neutral. I, on the other hand…” Miguel trails off, thinking of the past. “I distanced myself from her for some time until we resolved our issues.”

You frown a little. Is this why he thought Gabriel was better? Because Gabriel remained neutral in whatever problems Miguel and Conchata had? Despite Miguel indicating that he isn’t as good as Gabriel, even saying he distanced himself from his mother in a negative tone, you can’t bring yourself to think of him any less. You have no right to begin with. You don’t know what happened between them. There’s so much that you still don’t know about Miguel. So much he might never reveal. Either way, you don’t care.

“We all have our reasons for what we do,” you finally say, thinking this was the best neutral thing to say. “You had your reasons for distancing yourself.”

Miguel nods, appreciating your response. “I did,” he says simply, thinking about those reasons. Thinking about the abuse from his stepfather that his mother allowed. About the manipulation. The lies.

He has never shared his past with anyone. The only person that knew of it has passed away, taking those memories with him to the grave. Gabriel. Miguel doesn’t know if he will ever share that. He put it in the past for the most part.

However, he couldn’t help but feel that if he ever shared his past… it would be with you but not tonight. At least not all of it.

Miguel clears his throat. “I had a stepfather and of course, a biological father but I wasn’t close to either of them. They have both passed away, too.”

You notice a slight change of tone. It’s laced with resentment. You put your cup of coffee down.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you say gently. “Tonight, is for them, right?” you ask softly, motioning to the ofrenda.

Miguel nods. “Yes, but I know the other members talk. About my past. About my family.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. That’s how you found out about what happened in Gabriella’s universe and what happened with Miles. It turns out that despite being superheroes and being part of a professional superhero society, its members were not immune to gossip.

“I didn’t have a good relationship with either of them. That’s why they’re not on the ofrenda,” Miguel continues, feeling like he wanted to get it out of his chest for once.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you reply, and Miguel nods.

“It’s in the past now. I just wanted to say it – since my mother is on it. And again, I know people talk.”

You nod, feeling sad that Miguel feels the need to share his past life. “Please know that you never have to explain yourself. It’s your life, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation,” you say, surprising yourself with your words and tone but you hope you make your point clear. He shouldn’t feel pressured to share anything just to satisfy people’s curiosity. “But thank you – for trusting me enough to share that with me,” you add, softly again.

Miguel feels stunned by your words, especially your change of tone. It almost felt like you were scolding him. He can’t help but feel comforted while also amused by it. He feels his lips curl upward as he looks down at you. You notice it, of course. The slight curling of his lips. Did you almost make Miguel smile?

You can’t help but stare at his mouth. You have seen his smile in a photograph before and it was… beautiful. You remember the spark in his eyes as he smiled. His smile was such a sight it made you wonder what it would be like to see it in person. You can’t help but feel selfish at this moment. You want – need – to see Miguel O’Hara smile.

You want to see him happy because he deserves it.

You meet his eyes and offer him a small smile, feeling happy that you almost made him smile but Miguel surprises you. Miguel, for once,returns a genuine, small smile.

Miguel O’Hara, founder and commander of the Spider Society, your boss, is smiling at you.

You feel like your breath has caught in your throat suddenly. Miguel is smiling at you. It’s a small one but it’s a smile. You stare at it and meet his eyes. The moment feels much longer than it lasts but in a good way. You abruptly look down at your piece of pan dulce, feeling like you are overwhelmed by the sight of Miguel’s smile. You can’t comprehend your emotions, so you take a piece of pan dulce and change the subject.

“This is really good. Thank you,” you tell him, looking up at him again.

The smile is gone but there’s still a hint of it on his face as he looks down at his own piece of pan dulce. His mood is lighter, indicating that the resentment you detected earlier about his fathers is gone. You realize he found your sudden change of tone, which you now realize may have come off as scolding, amusing and you don’t mind it.

“Glad you liked it,” he says with a tone you can’t pinpoint right now as his smile is still flashing in your mind. “And thank you. For your words,” Miguel adds, meaning it.

You nod at him and take another bite of your concha, thinking. You are never going to forget this night.

The two of you continue to kneel on the floor but it feels like your distance has decreased somehow. You can feel his body warmth much closer as you eat pan dulce and hot coffee. The lab is silent and mostly dark around the two of you, but you find yourselves in a peaceful and comforting silence as the scent of marigold flowers and coffee fills your nostrils. The soft flickering of the candles on the ofrenda creates a warm and soothing mood, spreading that warmness to the two of you on this cold November night.

It is a beautiful moment, shared by two people who understand each other on many levels. It is a moment that will pass, like every other moment you have shared so far but just like the rest, it will be a moment the two of you will look back on. It is a moment that only the two of you will know of as there is an unspoken agreement these moments were for yourselves only.

Miguel eats his piece of bread, quietly. He’s thinking about your reaction to him smiling. It makes him feel a mix of emotions. Was the sight of him smiling, even if it was a small smile, so surprising? Of course, he knows he doesn’t smile much these days, but your reaction makes him feel like the sight of it is a once in a lifetime moment. That was one emotion.

Another emotion is… what is the word? His emotions and thoughts are a bit out of place tonight, making it harder to think but he feels… satisfaction? Is that the right word he’s looking for? The point is that he found some joy in seeing your surprise, and your sudden – was it shyness? Was the sight too much for you that you had to look away and change the subject?

Miguel takes a sip of his coffee as he thinks about how he liked your reaction to him smiling, no matter how small it was. He sets the cup down and looks at the other plastic bag he brought with him. He picks it up, remembering.

“There’s candy here, too,” Miguel says opening it.

You finish eating your piece of bread, making a note to look for some pan dulce in your own universe because it was wonderful, as you turn your attention to the bag. You’re still thinking of Miguel smiling. You watch as Miguel pulls out different candy, holding so much in one hand because of its size.

He shows you the candy, and you recognize it from the ofrenda. He extends his arm out to you, offering you candy. You look up at him.

“What do you recommend?” you ask, and he begins to tell you what each candy is, even when you recognize some of it from trying it before.

You eventually go for a clown lollipop, which makes Miguel raise his eyebrow slightly.

“What? It has three things. Marshmallow on the inside, chocolate on the outside, and gummies,” you say giving him a small smile.

“You got a point,” Miguel says, grabbing one himself.

The two of you open your clown lollipops. You look at your own, noticing the gummies’ placement on the lollipop, which are supposed to signify the eyes and mouth, are crooked, looking nothing like the picture on the wrapping. You frown a little but shrug.

Next to you, Miguel stifles a low chuckle, noticing your frown at the appearance of your lollipop. He shows you his.

“The thing about these is that they never look like the picture on the wrapper,” he says quietly as you look at his crooked lollipop.

You chuckle, noticing his has the mouth upside down. “I was a little disappointed but I’m pretty sure the taste is going to make up for it,” you say, looking at it before you take a bite, making sure to go around the gummies.

Miguel watches, wanting to see your reaction. You chew the small piece you bit off, the chocolate and marshmallow melting in your mouth. Miguel sees the pleasant look on your face.

“Oh wow, this is – I think I’m in trouble,” you say, taking another small bite, still going around the gummies, deciding you’re going to leave them for last.

Miguel raises an eyebrow as he, too, takes a bite of his, also going around the gummies, as you mention being in trouble. You finish eating and look over at him.

“I used to have a sweet tooth. I think this is going to make me return to my bad ways,” you explain as you take another bite.

Miguel feels like smiling again as he sees you go for another bite. He also notices that you left the gummies for last, which reminds him of Gabriella because she used to do the same thing when he bought these lollipops for her.

The two of you spend another hour sharing candy and Miguel tells you about each one. Miguel eats the same candy you choose each time, as if he was trying it for the first time as well. He pays attention to your reactions, noticing which candy leaves the best impression on you. He also shares bits and pieces of Gabriella’s liking for a specific kind of candy. You listen intently when he speaks, appreciating his openness with you. You notice there’s no sadness as he speaks fondly of her. At least not tonight.

“I guess we’re not sleeping tonight,” he mutters as the two of you are now sitting, still on the floor, facing the ofrenda.

It’s past midnight now and the two of you have eaten quite a bit of candy, plus you had that cup of coffee. You both feel awake and alert.

“I don’t think I was planning on sleeping early, anyway,” you say quietly, staring at the flickering candles.

Miguel leans back on his hands, stretching his back slightly. The two bags he bought earlier are between you. The plastic wrappers from the candy you two ate are in a neat pile.

“You were doing chores,” he says, remembering you had mentioned that when he arrived.

You nod. “I had some random chores that I meant to do over the week but didn’t get to.”

“I’ve been keeping you busy with missions,” he says, looking at the photos of his loved ones.

You chuckle lightly. “It’s just the life of a superhero.”

Miguel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. When he lived in Gabriella’s world, he took every chore in the house. He cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, dishes, cut the lawn, and many other chores on top of being a father and a superhero. There were days when it all felt like too much, especially when he was unable to complete some of those chores when his superhero duty called. When he felt like that, when it was all too much, he just reminded himself that it didn’t matter. It was okay if the lawn grew a bit tall. It was okay if he got behind a day or two on laundry. It was okay as long as it meant he got to spend time with Gabriella. Her happiness and comfort were his top priority, and if he had to choose which he often did, between doing laundry or sitting on Gabriella’s bedroom floor playing with dolls because she asked him to join her, he always chose spending time with her.

The satisfaction of done laundry, or a clean sink, never compared to Gabriella’s smiles and laughs. If he could pay to hear her laugh live again, Miguel would give up everything he owned. Even if it was just one more time.

Miguel sighs softly, thinking of Gabriella. Memories of them playing on her bedroom floor flash through his mind. He can hear her voice and laugh. He remembers the way it felt to hold her in his arms. He remembers the nights he had to find a way to fit in her tiny bed to comfort her because she had nightmares. He’d lay there for hours, even if his muscles were tired. Even when his body desperately wanted to stretch to ease the tension, he laid there, guarding her sleep. He remembers the natural father instinct that surged through him. It was as if he had been meant to be a father his whole life.

As Miguel stares at the ofrenda, his eyes fall on the toys, and he silently prays that Gabriella visited him on this Dia de los Muertos. He prays that she forgave him for lying. For replacing her biological father. He prays that she found joy in the toys and food.

“Perdóname, mija.”

“Do you – do you mind telling me more about her?” you ask in a whisper, noticing Miguel’s lingering eyes on his deceased daughter’s photograph. You don’t know what gave you the confidence to ask that and you quickly add, “I’m sorry, I – you don’t have to. I don’t know what came over me.”

Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down at you. Your eyes meet. He’s quiet for a few seconds but his face is calm. He doesn’t look upset, and he’s not. He’s glad you asked. He’s just surprised and comforted by how you asked. It’s strange. Sometimes he feels like you grieve with him. He sees it in your eyes and detects it in your words and tone. He has never felt like anyone could share his grief. Until you. You didn’t even know Gabriella or his wife, or that version of himself.

Regardless of that fact, Miguel feels like you grieve with him. As if you grieve the opportunity of knowing them and a life he no longer has.

Miguel nods at last. “Gabriella…”

And so, the two of you spend another hour or so together in his lab. Miguel O’Hara begins to talk about his daughter and it’s like a door opens. His memories pour out of him, and you listen intently, nodding. He talks about the times she was sick, the time she fell from a swing and the scraped knee afterward, about her playing with dolls and him having to change his voice to be in character. He talks about the car rides back home after soccer matches and how Gabriella would be filled with energy the first fifteen minutes before she passed out asleep, exhausted from the game and her excitement from winning. He tells you so much than the last time. So much more, that you feel like you knew Gabriella yourself. You smile tenderly as Miguel talks about her in a way that just enforces how great of a father he was.

It's a while later when the two of you get up from the floor. You help him clean up, despite his protests. The two of you stand in front of the ofrenda for a few minutes, in silence afterward. You finally turn your head towards him, looking up at him. He notices and looks down at you, meeting your gaze.

“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy,” you say quietly, and he nods slowly.

You wish you could say more. Again, you feel that rush of emotions for this man. You wish you could tell him that he deserves happiness. That he deserves so much more…

“Thank you for coming,” he replies, and you nod with a small smile because you feel that that’s the only thing you can do.

You fall into silence again for a few seconds before you sigh softly.

“I should probably head back now,” you say, looking down at your gizmo to check the time.

Miguel also checks his gizmo, surprised. It’s very late. When he finished setting up the ofrenda and was ready to travel to your universe to invite you, he had no intention of keeping you up this late. He thought it would be an hour or so. Instead, the two of you have spent the last three hours on the floor eating pan dulce and candy, with him talking and sharing details of his life.

For a brief moment, Miguel tries to imagine doing this with someone else. He can’t. No one else pops into his head, for the two of you speak so differently when you are alone. You understand each other.

Miguel finally nods. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

You shake your head with a smile. “Don’t apologize. As I said, I was going to stay up to do some chores but…” you trail off and try to put your thoughts together without them coming off wrong. You want to say that you much prefer this. Spending time with him. Keeping each other company. How can you say that without it coming off wrong? You look away from his gaze for a few seconds, trying to think of how to word this and simply having no idea how to do so without giving the wrong impression. You shake your head softly at yourself, feeling silly for being unable to pull your thoughts together. You meet his eyes again, which have been on you this whole time. Miguel can see that you’re struggling to find a way to say what’s on your mind. It makes him want to know even more what you’re thinking.

“What I’m trying to say is that – I’m here,” you finally say and immediately feel like that was not the best way to say it, but it is also not the worst. “I’m here – for you.”

And I don’t mind stopping what I’m doing to be there for you, you silently think but can’t voice that part out loud.

Miguel stares down at you, your words echoing in his head. You’re here… for him. And he knows you mean it as your eyes meet. Miguel gives you a soft nod, his eyes show appreciation.

“Thank you…” he says, with a warm feeling in his chest.

You nod and give him another smile, seeing that appreciative look in his eyes. That will have to do. Maybe in the future you can say more but for tonight, that will have to do.

Miguel wants to say the same to you, but he can’t. The words get caught in his throat. He looks at the plastic bags from earlier. He pulls out two chocolate lollipops and some of the other candy he saw you liked the most, not fully realizing that he perfectly remembers this information. He looks at the bag with pan dulce. There are only two pieces of bread left. He extends his arms, offering you the bag with bread and the candy. It’s his own way of reciprocating your words to him. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“Oh, thank you but you don’t have to do that,” you say not making a move to take the items.

He looks down at you. “I insist… please,” he says quietly with a firm yet breathy tone.

Noticing his tone, you nod slowly and take the items from his hands gently. Your bare fingers brush his suited palm and fingers as you take the individual pieces of candy. The sensation is almost ticklish to Miguel’s palm, but he keeps his hand steady. Once you have everything in your hands, you look up at him again and smile.

“There was no need for this but thank you.”

Miguel nods, wishing he could’ve done this on top of reciprocating your words. Maybe another time.

“I hope you enjoy the other pieces of bread,” he says softly.

“I have no doubt I will,” you reply, still smiling. There’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you before you speak again. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again… for everything.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you. I’ll see you later today,” he replies remembering it’s already early morning.

You nod one more time at him before you turn your eyes to the ofrenda. Your eyes fall on each photograph, and you say a silent goodbye to them. You don’t celebrate but you hope that they came to see Miguel tonight.

“Good night,” you finally say.

“Good night,” Miguel replies before you walk around the platform. Miguel remains standing in front of his ofrenda. He hears the multidimensional portal open nearby and then it’s quiet again. His eyes fall on each photograph, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on his loved ones’ faces. He stands there for a few minutes, quietly thinking before he breaks the silence in his empty lab.

“I’m here for you, too...”

_________________

Translation for italicized words: Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - Altar for Day of the Death Pan Dulce - Sweet Bread (Mexican pastries) "Perdóname, mija" - "Forgive me, my daughter." Mija(o) is a combination of "Mi" and "Hija(o)"

For the other italicized food items mentioned by Miguel from his childhood and items described on Gabriella's ofrenda, you can find a food guide right here that I quickly put together.

Ok, so I just want to say sorry for the freaking LONG update. My jaw dropped when I checked the word count once I was done editing (no wonder it took me so long). I don't think any other part will be this long. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and that if you love autumn (like me) this brought you comfort. I'm done with this summer heat 😭

I also want to ask how would you guys feel about a short Christmas part? It wouldn't be super long but I thought of Miguel in Christmas time and I just - Imagine Miguel in a chunky cable knit turtle neck sweater!! (Screaming, crying) If not, it's okay. I already have the "next" part mapped out and... I'm not well thinking about it.

As always, thank you for the support. For the lovely comments and asks. Reading them makes me so happy. Thank you 🥹

I love Miguel,

Alondra

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes

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angel-calypso · 2 months ago

Note

oh i need one with erik🫦 where y/n thinks he and raven have something and she gets really sad and heartbroken… (I leave the ending to you) (srry english not my first language)

i hope this is sorta what you were asking!!! i did my best 😽

Mistaken part one

i really loved writing this. but be mindful it's my first work in probably over two years since school ended for me. i tried my best so sorry if it's not up to standards i'll get back in soon. I also don't have a laptop, so this is all being typed out in my phone and edited. I'm so sorry if there's mistakes i'm trying my best i swear

part two

erik lehnsherr x reader. not sure if there's any warnings or triggers. just a heartbroken reader for a tad. hope you all enjoy. it is part one, i'm working two jobs right now and im going to try and put out part two soon

It had been a few weeks since you moved into the mansion. Charles had invited you to stay with the team after you had helped them on a mission. You hadn't known there were other people like yourself. Mutants. You always thought it was a derogatory word, but when you had stumbled upon the team fighting some lunatic, you had seen how beautiful and powerful the word mutant could be. You were seven when your mutation appeared. It allows you to control plants, dirt, small pebbles, you could feel the Earth in your veins. Since moving in, Hank has studied you, absolutely fascinated with your mutation, as he is with all of theirs.

The first couple days, you kept to yourself. Keeping quiet during dinners, just observing and listening. occasionally someone would ask you a question. Normally Erik, who seemed to always be wanting to know more about you. He would smile at you, always ready to start a conversation. Eventually, with time, you found yourself invited to Charles' office at night, having a drink and watching him and Erik play chess. You grew incredibly fond of these nights. The three of them were laughing and talking into the late hours of the night. Sometimes you would fall asleep there, but seemed to somehow always wake up in your bed. As you grew to love those nights, you found yourself falling in love with Erik. His beautiful eyes that followed you everywhere you went, the way he would catch your eye and walk over to you every time. The morning tea and lunch picnics. You had just barely started convincing yourself that maybe, he felt the same. that maybe you had a real chance at something with him.

“you know, we outta teach you how to play darling.” Charles pulled you out of your thoughts one night. They had been in silence for a few minutes, awaiting his next move. You had been watching intently trying to balance your thoughts, the game, and if you were honest the occasional stare at Erik. The way he sat calmly in the back of his chair, holding his drink in one hand and tapping his armrest with the other. Plotting his moves. He always looked so handsome in the warm light of the office. The drinks are always getting to you, always having to stop yourself from reaching out and taking his hand.

“I'd much rather watch you two play.” You had finally pulled your eyes off of Erik to look at Charles with his knowing smile. you blushed slightly, hoping charles wasn't in your head, always forgetting of the telepath. Erik laughed unaware of the interaction between the two.

“I think y/n would have you beat Charles” Erik chimed in. You smiled, sometimes you thought he thinks too highly of you.

“Yeah right, she'd be too distracted,” Charles playfully scoffed. At this you asked if they needed another drink. She got up, noticed the bottle was left in the kitchen tonight, and walked out with hers and Erik's cup. When you came back, you noticed a new arrival had joined them for the first time. You hadn't met her yet but assumed it to be Raven, Charles’ sister. She had been on a mission for the last couple months. you would've loved meeting her, if it wasn't for the sight you walked in on leaving your heart in your stomach. Raven was hugging Erik, her legs wrapped around him. You didn't hear anything being said, the blood rushing through your ears a loud roar. But you had seen enough. You walked over to your seat. Charles knew something was off, you begged him not to be in your mind for this. you hoped he wouldn't. You didn't notice upon seeing you, Erik grew the biggest smile, almost immediately letting go of Raven and whispering to her. She also smiled, putting her hand out to you.

“you must be y/n!!! I'm Raven, I've heard so much about you. I'm so glad to meet you! “ Under other circumstances you would've loved meeting her, finally meeting charles’ sister he would always talk about. But the tinge of seeing her all over Erik tainted the meeting. You told her it was nice to meet her, sending her a small smile while shaking her hand. It wasn't her fault. You let go and hand Erik his drink.

“Thank you Meine Liebe” You would normally love and melt at this, Erik had fooled you. You just nodded your head. you were willing yourself not to cry just yet. The stinging in your eyes daring to disobey you. A few minutes go by and you excuse yourself off to bed. Before anyone could say anything you were out the door.

translations Meine liebe- My love in german

I know i know, it's pretty short. I'll work on part two as quickly as i can. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in part 2!!!

#erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto #x men #x men first class #charles xavier #magneto x reader #charles xavier x reader #erik lehnsherr x reader x charles xavier #x men apocalypse #x men au #x men movies #x men comics #x men x reader #i don't know what else #x reader

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thesirencove · 2 months ago

Text

ᨒ ོ ☼ YOU'VE BECOME MY CEILING -- SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

another angst fic !! i love writing angst so this is nothing new from me ofc :) once again , this is a fic i posted on a previous blog , which i since removed from said blog as i decided to focus on another topic . so i'm here to once again share my works :) i've also since edited this fic a bit , as i wrote it a bit ago !! let me know your thoughts on this one and enjoy <3

my requests are open and let me know if anyone would like a part two to this !

tissues are once again needed and there is no use of y/n in this fic

sam winchester x fem!reader (romantic)

summary: when sam pulls away, and reader just can't keep going. loosely based on the song "the gold" , specifically phoebe bridgers version

warnings: break ups (sorta ?) , minor descriptions + mentions of suffocation (if you blink you'll probably miss it) , abandonment , loss of love (to some degree) , unrequited love but not really (???) , sad sam (again </3)

word count: 1.8k

love was difficult. it was consuming. beautiful. costly. the best feeling in the world, and the worst one. it was all of these things at the same time.

sometimes it was the most freeing thing in the world. other times it was suffocating. it could be a good suffocating, at times. the love so overwhelming that she burst with joy at the feeling. a love she held so closely that she couldn’t find ways to express it any further even as she drowned in the feeling.

other times it made her want to cry everything out. it made her want to collapse on the floor, heart and lungs heavy. it made her dread the silence during fights, or the sleepless nights waiting for a phone call back. it made her dread the days spent waiting for him to come home. the tears welling up in her eyes when she could only imagine the worst as minutes became hours, which would become days and eventually weeks. it was dreadful.

but the good parts made up for it. the nights spent curled up in each others’ arms. hearing each others’ shallow breaths as they slept. the warmth of being near one another. the way the light shone in a different way, because things were good. things were calm. he was home and so was she. the smiles rarely ever left either of their faces. being in close proximity was all they needed. they’d talk, but the silence was just as peaceful. it wasn’t deafening or painful. it didn’t make her heart wrench. both of them were safe and in love and happy.

that’s not the way it was now. right now the silence was heavy. so was her heart. her lungs felt like they were constricting. like there wasn’t enough air left for her to breathe. it felt like their love was dying out. like the flame they’d so carefully spent time fostering was dying out, providing barely any light. she didn’t want it to. she was grabbing at it, pulling it back towards her, like a child trying to save their most prized possesion that’s about to be thrown out. she tried to save it. so, so hard. she would spend nights awake, thinking how to fix things. how to make it better, for both of them. how to make sure they were both safe and in love and happy again.

but he wasn’t making that effort. he had shut down. she didn’t know what it was. he came home one day after weeks of no contact on a long hunt, and since then it’s been like this. she had to tiptoe around him on eggshells. the feeling of acid burning her throat never left. she tried to get him to talk. to say something. to open up to her, so she could help him. but he had snapped. she wouldn’t give up, though. she tried, again and again. it always ended the same, with sam angry and her silent tears soaking the pillow. after months of trying she decided it wasn’t worth pushing any further.

he would open up in time, right? he just needed to find the initiative to come to her himself, to not be forced into opening up, right? things would get fixed in time and it would be all okay again. but it didn’t happen. the time didn’t come. and yet again, hours would become days, which would be come weeks and slowly those weeks would become months. except this time he wasn’t away. he was home. he was with her. and yet the distance between them was further than ever before.

i love you, she thought.

i love you with all my heart and soul. i love you unconditionally. i love you even through the heaviness in my heart and the tears that stain my cheeks every day.

but it’s just not enough, she realized. her one-sided love wasn’t enough. she couldn’t be the only person with love in this relationship. it was slowly breaking her, tearing her apart. she was a shell of herself now, just as sam has been these past few months.

so she packed a bag. just one. only what she needed. not everything. she left the rest. she would be coming back. she knew she would. a love like this doesn’t just end. there’s bumps in the road. there always are. but this bump needed a little extra time and care. and that had to come in the form of being away. she needed to be able to breathe. perhaps he, too, needed space.

distance makes the heart grow fonder, no?

and with that one bag in hand, she left the room she shared with him. with her sam. the love of her life. the man who now sat at the kitchen table, absolutely unrecognizable. she watched him from afar. sitting there, motionless. a bottle of beer stood in front of him.

she placed her bag down where she was, positioning it so he wouldn’t see. and she entered the kitchen.

one last time, she thought to herself. she wouldn’t be saying goodbye. that’s not what this was. she was going to be back. but she couldn’t leave without seeing him one more time. giving him one last kiss before she was gone.

“sam,” she croaked out. her voice was barely louder than a whisper. he didn’t respond.

“sam,” she said once again, louder this time. it caught his attention. he looked up at her.

“i love you,” she said to him. her eyes were glossy. she was breathing as evenly as she could, her lungs constricting as her heart beat so fast that she practically felt it in her throat. she didn’t want him to see her cry, even though he had so many times in the past.

“mhm,” was his only response. he looked away from her soon after, his motions so slow they were almost robotic. it was as though he were on autopilot, picking up his beer and taking a swig of it. she took that as her sign. her final push. to do this. to take some time away from him, let him figure things out. he wasn’t going to do that with her around. these past few months have proven that. even through every time she tried to help him, to figure out why he’d shut down, he would just push her further away. she bent down and placed a kiss to his forehead.

i’m sorry, she thought to herself.

and so she took one last look at him. she turned towards the door. and she walked out. moving her legs was a chore. it was difficult and every bone in her body screamed at her to turn back around. to get down on the floor, to her knees, and beg him to talk to her, to tell her what was wrong. but it wouldn’t work. she knew that, because she already tried it.

so against every instinct in her body, against every thought in her head but one, she grabbed the bag she had hidden behind the wall outside the kitchen, and left.

sam heard the door close. he didn’t think much of it. a day later, when the house was quieter than he was used to, he glazed over the thought that she wasn’t back yet. but that one day had yet again become days, which had eventually become a week. something changed in him. he called her. he rung her phone non-stop. he left message after message. he had sat in that same spot in the kitchen, phone in hand, waiting for her to pick the phone back up. but she hadn’t.

he had finally woken up from his daze. he finally realized that he had lost her. it took her leaving for him to realize that things weren’t okay. that he wasn’t okay. none of it was.

he wished he had told her, that he opened up to her about what happened on that hunt. about how he tried to save a child, and couldn’t. how he saw himself in this young boy, so frightened and yet trying to show strength. a child that he then saw buried by his family a week later. the monsters in town were gone thanks to him, but a child had died. and he couldn’t forgive himself for that, he couldn’t bring himself to function properly. this child, so closely mirroring his younger self was gone because of him. and so he shut down.

she tried to help him, to get him to open up, but goddamnit he just wouldn’t listen. and now he’d lost her, too. she was gone, not answering the phone. he wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back, though he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

and one lonely night in november, sam was laying in her room. he’d been curled up in a ball on her bed, her scent having nearly faded completely, when he saw the leather poking out from inside her closet. and he got up. pulled out what it was that caught his eye.

her journal. the one thing she refused to go anywhere without, she had left behind. so he opened it. and he read, and read, and read. he couldn’t stop reading. and he hated himself more and more with each entry. he knew he shouldn’t have read it, but he couldn’t help himself. he wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back, and this was the closest thing to her that he now had.

he watched their love crumple in front of his eyes, the memories burnt into the pages. but their love wasn’t enough for it to stay.

it’s my fault, he’d repeat in his head. over and over and over again. non-stop, like a mantra. and when he got to the last page, he had felt his heart shatter. he had become physically ill at what he read.

it’s like he’s become my ceiling, the page read.

a blank wall i stare at, unmoving and not in love with me, no matter how much i may love him, it finished.

and just like that, sam winchester had broken himself more than he had already been broken. but he would wait. he’d wait for her to return. he’d look for her. he’d hope that she’d come back. and in the meantime he’d work on himself. fix himself. he’d pull himself out of the rut he was in, so that when she came back, he could give her all the love in the world again. so she could look at him with all the light in the world once more.

he would become her the sun again and brighten her world. he realized that he needs to open up to her, that he can rely on her. he doesn’t have to be scared of her love anymore. she wouldn’t run away if he told her what happened. she’d only love him unconditionally. and oh, how sam wished she were still here.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #angst #so much angst #romantic relationships #₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ aqua's fanfics

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corneliaavenue-ao3 · 2 months ago

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Summer's a Knife (a graveyard fic)

Graveyard fics are fics that I started and will never return to. Some are vague outlines, some are 4 sentences, some are 40 pages. But if they haunt me, I want them to haunt you too.

I am actually sad that this became a graveyard fic. But I truly cannot write it anymore. I wanted to release this first chapter in May of 2022... you see how well that went for me.

This is the first summer after the war from Ginny's POV. It is sad, it is romantic, it deals with grief. It was going to have flashbacks to Ginny's sixth year. It was going to have 4 big chapters and a small epilogue, each chapter focusing on a month. It was going to be one of my favorite things I wrote. Unfortanetly, I don't feel that way anymore.

May (chapter title: so long daisy May) is the only complete (non-edited) chapter. I knew what I wanted to write in June (the best and worst day of June), no clue what July (I've been down since July) would bring, and an idea for August (August slipped away)

I even had a playlist made

Chapter 1 is below the cut because it is 10k words, and I am giving it all to you. After that I will explain the rest of the vibes of the fic with some snippets I wrote. Sorry this is a LONG POST.

You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times. We're not trying.

If I bleed, you’ll be the last to know

So Long Daisy May

Ginny’s bloodstained trainers echoed on the cobblestone path to her Great Aunt’s house.

Once again, she was sent away for being too young. It wasn’t that long ago her parents were begging her to leave, to come back here for safety away from the final battle. Harry gave her a look that he didn’t want to see her either. She stayed of course. Fought in the war that was her fight as much as any other member of her family’s fight. Probably even more than most of them to be honest.

Now the war was over, she was sent away again. Her mum didn’t want Ginny to stay at Hogwarts any longer than necessary, wary of any lurking danger from Death Eaters still roaming the grounds. The Burrow was not safe yet. Her dad, Bill, and Charlie left soon after Voldemort fell to ensure that their home would be safe for them to come home. Molly Weasley could not bear to convince George to leave his twin’s side in the room of all the deceased. Ron was off somewhere once again, probably conjoined to Harry and Hermione’s sides, unbearable for them to separate.

That is how Ginny ends up with Percy of all brother’s returning to Great Aunt Muriel’s cold mansion that foggy, early morning.

Percy took a moment to knock on the front door. Ginny was planning to just walk inside, finding herself too tired to care about politeness and proper etiquette.

The front door swung open 30 seconds later, a small house elf stood in the entryway.

“Hey, Milsey. We were sent here to update Muriel and wait it out until the Burrow is safe,” Ginny said.

Milsey bowed down, “Of course, anything for Prewett blood.”

Ginny didn’t even try to hide her eye roll. She could practically hear Hermione in her ear ranting about House Elf Welfare.

“You don’t need to bow for us, Milsey,” Percy said. The first words he said aloud since their mum sent them here. Ginny did not know what to make of Percy anymore. He was the only brother who noticed anything was wrong with her during her first year at Hogwarts, and then he was the only one who checked up on her during her second year. Then he stopped caring about her. Ron told her that he got a letter from Percy telling him to stop being friends with Harry during his fifth year. She didn’t even get that. She could not understand how he could ignore his family for two years, and then come back begging for forgiveness.

Fred had forgiven him.

The thought of Fred made her entire insides clench. She wanted to vomit even though she had not had anything to eat in hours.

Percy walked through the front door, Ginny closely following.

“I am 109 years old, I just can’t have people showing up to my house unannounced at the crack of dawn. I have not even finished my tea yet this morning. Ginevra, your shoes are filthy. Take them off before you step on my Egyptian Rug, it is older than me and made from Sphynx fur,” Ginny’s aunt said in one breath.

Muriel stood in the doorway, wrapped in her silk nightgown, arms folded, looking very unpleased to see her niece and nephew. “And where is Molly? I need to speak with her about her inability to raise polite children who give warning when they are going to visit their aunt!”

Ginny felt Percy’s hand wrap around her bicep, warning her to not make a retort. “We will make sure we give you notice next time we visit, Auntie Muriel. Thank you for letting us pop in this morning,” Percy said, using his trademark pompous voice.

Muriel grunted, "I missed you Percy. You were always the most respectable Weasley. The Prewett blood runs strong in you."

Percy squeezed Ginny's arm again as a reminder to stay calm. Ginny turned and gave him a look that read something like I’m not a baby, get your annoying hands off of me. She wasn’t sure he quite got the message, but he removed his hand anyway.

“We are only here until dad gives us the all clear to go back home. I will clear out all of our things we left in your spare rooms. Your favorite Weasley can update you on what has happened in the last 24 hours.” Ginny turned, not even sparing a glance at Percy to see his reaction to the news that he would be the one updating the family about Fred’s death. She crossed over the sphinx rug and stormed up the stairs, making sure to leave dirty footprints with each step.

Her room was first. Her trunk sat in the middle of the floor, a few articles of clothing scattered across the floor, but mostly still packed. She didn’t want to admit it to her mum at the time, but she kept her trunk packed in case they needed to make another quick escape. Now, it seems so frivolous caring about her things when her family is now forever torn apart.

She quickly gathered her clothes strewn around and shoved them into her trunk. Levitating her trunk out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

The Ministry of Magic has more to worry about at the moment than some underage magic.

Her parent’s room was next. Unlike Ginny, they did not have their trunks already packed from school, so they did not bring much from the Burrow. Ginny noticed this on her third day at her aunt’s house when her mum had not changed robes. Looking around the room, Ginny gathered what little items were there and put them into her own trunk.

The twin’s room was last.

Ginny took a deep breath, bracing herself before pushing the door open slowly. Unsurprisingly, the room was a mess. Weasley Wizard Wheezes products piled in boxes on the floor and stacked on top of the bed. Mail in orders haphazardly organized in some system that only made sense to George. In the corner was Fred’s belongings frozen in time, never to be touched by him again.

Flashbacks to the Great Hall flooded her brain.

The smell of burning smoke clogged her nose. Seamus guided her back inside from the courtyard into the entryway of the Great Hall. Everything was too quiet. The emeralds littered on the floor cracked under her step, echoing against the stone walls. Suddenly Bill was there, pulling her from Seamus into his arms. He was crying. Why was he crying? He led her to the middle of the Great Hall where her family was huddled together. She counted the amount of heads, realizing two were missing. Slowly she approached her mum, who was kneeling on the ground in front of - NO.

Ginny stumbled, tripping over a box of sparklers on the ground. Her knees crashed into the footboard of the bed. A spare sparkler fizzled on the ground then ignited the entire box. An impressive explosion lit up the entire room, burning an imprint on the ceiling. Smoke filled her lungs. Spluttering, Ginny sunk to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In and out. Quicker. Faster.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

She felt herself start to hyperventilate. Her throat clogged up, unable to suck in deep enough breath to fill her lungs with oxygen. Tears blurred her vision. Pressure built in her head, she felt like she was submerged underwater. Unable to catch her breath. Drowning in her tears.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. For a second, she thought she was with Bill back in the Great Hall again before realizing that was not the brother holding her.

“It’s alright, Ginny,” Percy soothed her.

Sobs wracked her body. She was exhausted. She could not keep them in any longer. Tucking her head into Percy’s chest, Ginny cried for her brother. She would never hear Fred tell another joke or have a late night race on the brooms. Her whole body ached. Several hours after his death, she finally felt the magnitude of the loss of Fred.

Percy scratched her back, lightly tracing his fingertips down her spine, soothing her. Just like he had the time she broke down during their trip to Egypt. Slowly, oxygen inflated her lungs and her sobs lessened. Her breath slowed back to a stable rate.

"Thanks, Perce," Ginny said when she finally trusted her own voice.

"Don't mention it," he shrugged. "How about you get some rest, I will clean up the rest of this room."

Ginny was too tired to protest. Pulling herself to stand, Ginny nodded at Percy before slowly making her way back to her guest bedroom. She didn't even bother changing into fresh clothes before crawling into bed. Curled into a ball, she pulled the covers tightly around her.

Her thoughts drifted to the same person she dreamt about for the entire year before the blackness wrapped around her, pulling her into a deep sleep.

Hours too soon she was gently shook awake. Groggy eyes opened to her father smiling down at her. He aged so much within the last year. What red was once in his hair has turned primarily gray, fresh wrinkles were etched into his face. Ginny flung her arms around his neck.

“It’s safe to go home now.”

“Where’s Percy?” Ginny asked, hating how childish her voice sounded.

Her dad stroked her hair, “Already home. Let’s join him.”

Her dad grabbed the trunk on the ground and Ginny’s hand, side-apparating her to the Burrow. Teaching the sixth years how to apparate was not a priority this past year. Just another flaw in her education from the last 9 months. Her landing was not soft. Stumbling a few steps, Ginny stood at the top of the hill, just inside the ward line.

“Everyone else is inside,” her dad said.

Stumbling over herself, Ginny ran down the hill to her home. At first glance, the Burrow looked the same as the day she left it. But as she got closer to the front door, she noticed more things amiss. The treeline looked different like a few branches were knocked away. The grass was scorched yellow like someone burned it. Windows were cracked or blasted open with missing shards of glass.

The front door groaned open with her push. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together, heads bent down, all snapped up at the sound of her entering the kitchen.

“Ginny!” Hermione smiled, standing to embrace her in a hug.

Ginny squeezed her friend back. She didn’t get to appreciate seeing the three of them at Hogwarts. Hermione was much thinner than the last time she saw her. They all were.

Ron embraced her next, giving her a pat on the back. She let go and looked over at the end of the table where Harry now stood.

“Hi,” Harry said.

He looked good. Thin like the other two, but still handsome. He had somehow gotten taller over the last year, his hair long, messier than she had ever seen it. The dark rings around his eyes and his hollow cheeks emphasized his green eyes. Staring at her the same way he had a year ago, like he was staring into a brilliant light.

Her heart skipped a beat.

But in the next heartbeat, they were crossing the room to one another. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, hers around his waist. Pulling each other close. She pressed her ear against his chest.

He's alive, heart is beating, lungs are expanding with each breath.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive.

The stairs creaked, alerting them to the presence of another Weasley member. Ginny pulled back from Harry just slightly, not completely breaking contact, as George entered the room. Slowly, he crossed the room, giving Ginny a quick pat on the head before leaving out the back door. Reality sunk back in as she watched the back of George’s head.

Fred's dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

She felt her throat start to clog again. The unbearable feeling of loss started to overwhelm her. Slowly, she pulled away from Harry. She could not lose it again, especially not in front of the others who went through so much more than she had. Ron also lost Fred, and he wasn’t breaking down at the sight of George.

And George, who would see Fred’s face whenever he looked in the mirror, did not deserve Ginny breaking down by looking at him. It made her feel like an awful person for almost losing it. No one needed the stress of taking care of her while they too were struggling.

“He hasn’t said anything,” Ron said, filling the silence. Ginny realized her eyes had not left the back door George exited. “Charlie went back to Hogwarts to convince him to leave. He got back maybe 20 minutes before you did.”

Ginny wouldn’t know what to say either when everyone looked at you like they were seeing a ghost.

“Where’s everyone else?” Ginny asked.

Ron nodded to the back door. “Bill and Fleur are out back. They checked the house for curses, but haven’t finished the rest of the property.” He pointed to the stairs next. “Mum’s up in her room. I imagine now that dad is back, she will spend the rest of the day in the kitchen. She shares her love through food, you know. And I think she has a lot of love she will want to share.”

Ron’s prediction that Molly Weasley would cook a feast for dinner was not far off. A few hours later, everyone was crammed at the table, along with enough food to feed them for days. Harry sat next to her with a plate stacked full. Throughout their meal, they exchanged casual brushes and quick glances.

“What are Kingsley’s plans with the Ministry?” Harry asked her dad as he passed the salad bowl to her.

“There is a lot to figure out. The Ministry was corrupted, that is no secret.” Percy kept his head down, avoiding the gaze of his father. Arthur took a bite of his chicken before continuing, “It is fair to assume there will be trials, but those probably won’t occur until later this summer. First, the physical damages of the war need to be fixed before the government can fix itself. Kingsley is working with Gawain to assess the damage first.”

“Do we know how many people lost their lives?” Bill asked.

Arthur shook his head. “It is unclear. There are still those unaccounted for in addition to those in critical care at Saint Mungos. But right now the number is at 43, not including Death Eaters.”

The clattering of silverware halted. Silence overcame the table as the magnitude of the battle overcame them.

“Excuse me,” Harry stood, tossing his fork on his half finished plate of food. He crossed the kitchen and made his way up the stairs, not bothering to look back at any of them.

Ron silently stood too, following Harry up. Hermione paused, eyes following Ron, but she stayed in her seat. “He will be fine,” Hermione reassured the table, not making eye contact with any direct member of the Weasley family as she spoke.

The table remained awkwardly quiet for the rest of the meal. Fleur spoke of Shell Cottage to fill the silence. Ginny excused herself to her room as soon as she felt appropriate to leave.

“I will be right back,” Hermione said as she passed Ginny’s bedroom door later that evening, two plates of food balanced on her arm.

Ginny nodded and continued to get ready for bed. By the time Hermione returned, Ginny had already tucked herself into bed, facing the wall. Hermione silently dressed for bed. “Goodnight, Ginny.”

Her circadian clock was off. Even though her entire body felt exhausted, Ginny lay awake staring up at the cracked ceiling of her own bedroom for hours. Sleeping at Muriel’s threw her off. In other circumstances, she would have taken this opportunity for a night flight. But she didn't feel safe flying alone tonight. Her mum would also be worried sick if she found out Ginny went out alone unsupervised in the middle of the night. Ginny did not need to be an added reason for her mother's stress right now.

So instead she shifted in her bed, trying to drift off to sleep. Counting Hermione's rhythmic breaths as she slept on the cot next to her bed.

One.

Two.

In.

Out.

Ginny tried to prevent her thoughts from drifting to anything depressing. No Fred, no Hogwarts, not even her childhood home. So instead she tried to make her mind go blank, to think of absolutely nothing besides the sound of Hermione’s breath.

Her counts of Hermione’s breaths quickened. “No, please no!”

“Hermione?” Ginny leaned over the edge to peer down at her friend. Her face was twisted in distress. The faded quilt was thrown off her body as she tossed and turned in her sleep. “It’s fake! Please stop!” a blood curdling, terrible scream escaped Hermione’s lips.

Hermione bolted straight up, eyes widened in fear, her hand reached for her right forearm. Ginny crawled out of her bed, squeezing next to Hermione on the cot. Tentatively, she reached out, stroking her back.

Hermione flinched away from her touch before finally relaxing. She tugged the sleeves of her jumper down her arms and pulled her knees into her chest. Ginny continued to try to provide comfort to her friend.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione finally looked at her. “Sorry.”

Wrapping Hermione into an embrace, Ginny whispered, “You have no need to apologize. I wasn’t even asleep.”

Hermione hummed. “Bellatrix, well…” she trailed off, staring out the bedroom window. The quarter moon provided minimal light in Ginny’s bedroom, so Ginny could hardly make out the look on Hermione’s face. “Nevermind,” Hermione finished, pushing herself away from Ginny, standing. “I’m going to go sleep upstairs, so you can get some rest. Goodnight Ginny.”

She grabbed her wand and bolted out the door, leaving Ginny all alone.

Ginny sighed and crawled back into her own bed. She punched her lumpy pillow, trying to find a comfortable enough position to drift off to sleep. With Hermione gone, she lost her distraction from letting her mind run wild. Now, thoughts of Bellatrix infiltrated her head.

Chaos reigned. Flashes of lights of every color surrounded her. She fired off spells at any person still cowardly enough to hide their face behind a mask. Harry was dead, but Tom had not won. She would make sure of it. Ginny caught sight of her wild mane of black hair before she saw her face. Firing off a cascade of curses, each aimed for Tom’s right-hand woman, each somehow deflected with ease. Bellatrix gave her a wicked smile, and for a moment Ginny wondered if Bellatrix knew exactly who she was and why she was so distraught. Hermione and Luna joined her side to fight Bellatrix. A streak of green passed her head, and for a moment, Ginny thought she would finally be at peace.

All good judgment she made hours prior about not flying tonight was out the window. She needed out.

Shoving her feet in her trainers and grabbing a jumper to combat the cool May evening air, Ginny quickly slipped out of her bedroom. Taking the stairs two at a time, pushing open the backdoor, and sprinting the moment she stepped out into the night.

With no one to tend to it in over a month and Death Eaters to trample it to the ground, the orchard was a disaster. Apples littered the ground, the sweet fruit squashed underfoot. The burnt grass damp with dew.

The broom closet smelled musty. Thankfully, it appeared untouched. Ginny grabbed an old Cleansweep, swinging one leg over the handle in a fluid motion. Her feet firmly placed on the ground, inhaling the cold air, she pushed off into the dark sky.

The common phrase “It’s like riding a broom,” never fit so eloquently. Months away from the sky, and it is almost like she had never left. She pressed her chest closer to the handle to center her gravity, and she was soaring. Past the treeline and the top of her home, she flew lazy laps. Circling the property, spiraling in the open air.

Her lungs expanded with cold air, her heart kicked faster with adrenaline, and her mind forgot old haunts. She felt invincible. She felt alive.

Slowly, she looped closer to the ground.

She noticed his dark hair first.

Once she flew within earshot, Harry started to speak. “Imagine my surprise to be awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of your brother snogging.”

For the first time in days, Ginny smiled "I hope it wasn't with the picture of Aunt Muriel he keeps stashed under his pillow.”

A laugh escaped Harry’s lips. It was one of the most joyous sounds Ginny ever heard. "I think he finally has reason to dispose of that picture."

“Oh?” Ginny questioned, the tips of her toes grazing the grass as she hovered closer to him.

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up, “Your brother is snogging Hermione Granger.”

“When did that happen? Oh, you haven’t been stuck third wheeling them this entire time have you?” Ginny asked, sympathetically patting Harry’s arm.

Harry looked down at where Ginny was touching him, slowly moving his other hand up to give her fingers a gentle squeeze. Ginny sucked in a breath.

He shook his head, letting go of her hand, “They didn’t snog until yesterday.”

“But yesterday was the ba-”

“Exactly,” Harry said, interrupting her. “How long have you been out here?”

"I couldn’t sleep, and Hermione had a nightmare,” she said, shaking her head. “It was Bellatrix. That's all that I know."

A dark look crossed Harry’s features. "I can only imagine."

Ginny did not push further. It wasn't Harry’s secret to tell, nor was it her's to know.

Instead, she slid off the Cleansweep and took a seat next to him. Enough space to not touch, but enough to feel the electricity between them. The hairs on her arm stood straight up. All day, tension wrung between them. Each touch sparked every nerve in her body. For months, she dreamt about what she would do when she saw him again, and now she was too overwhelmed to act.

They sat in the silence, staring up at the stars. As each second ticked by, she became more and more unsure how to express how much she missed him. Harry shifted beside her, and Ginny braved a glance to peek over at him only to find his bright, green eyes focused on her.

He hesitated for only a moment before his signature look of determination swept across his features. A look found right before doing something brave and stupid.

And then he kissed her.

If Ginny thought it was easy to return to flying after time away, nothing compared to kissing Harry. The feel of his mouth slanted against hers felt like coming home. Nothing was more natural. An instinct. Just like the instinct of Harry’s hands to wind in her hair and hers to press against his chest.

No words were said aloud, but so much was shared within one kiss. They were always good at having silent conversations. A single look. A single touch. So many emotions and thoughts expressed between them in those moments.

His hands in her hair. I missed you.

Her hands wrapped around his waist. Please don’t go again.

Their lips pressed together. I need you.

Eventually they broke apart after what could have been several days. Ginny always lost track of time when Harry kissed her. Pulling away, Ginny let out an uncharacteristic giggle, relishing in the warmth of an alive Harry.

She shifted her weight, leaning against his side. Her head rest on his shoulder. His arms snaked around her waist. Slot against one another like no time had passed since those days spent by the lake.

That is where they stayed until daylight broke over the horizon.

Days were quiet. Planning funerals drained livelihood out of the Burrow. Ginny found herself helping where she could. Her mum was constantly cooking in the kitchen, so Ginny would help clean. She didn’t speak, she kept her thoughts to herself. When Harry was in the room, they moved like they were dancing. Never touching.

Nights were loud. Hermione would leave her room after everyone officially went to bed to join Ron in his. That was when Ginny would sneak out to fly. Harry would join her minutes later, some joke on his lips about Ron and Hermione and how he wished maybe they went back to fighting. Then they would fly together or sit and talk. Eventually, they would fall asleep under the stars pressed into each other's arms, waking just at the crack of dawn to sneak back into their respective bedrooms.

One bright morning, Ginny followed the scent of fresh breads and sweet sugar down to the kitchen. Her mum hunched over the oven, a faded floral apron tied loosely around her waist. Ginny would not be surprised if she barely missed her mum waking up to slave away in the kitchen right as her and Harry were sneaking back into their beds.

“Morning, mum,” Ginny said, giving her mum a squeeze around the waist.

“Good morning, dear,” her mum replied, leaning into her hug. “I would like you and Charlie to run some errands for me today.”

“Sure,” Ginny said, stealing a pastry from the counter. “What do you need?” She asked, mouth full of scone.

Her mum turned back to the oven to pull out a fresh pie. “I would love it if you could run some of these breads to some families for me. The Browns, the Deacons, and the Rivers. I believe Deacon’s daughter was in your year. Sophie was it?”

The scone in her mouth went stale. Bile rose, burning her throat on the way up. Ginny grabbed a napkin off the counter and spit out the mushed up pastry. “Yeah, Sophie,” Ginny’s voice wavered. She cleared the acid from her throat, pushing the sound of late night giggles about Hogwarts gossip out from her head. “I can do that for you. Where’s Charlie?”

After wrangling her second eldest brother from the yard, the pair apparated, Ginny tightly wrapping her hand around Charlie's arm, to the home of Ron’s ex girlfriend.

Ever the introvert, Charlie left her to do all the talking and condolences.

After giving her final sorrows to the Brown Family, Charlie grabbed her arm and apparated them to the small Wizarding village the Deacon’s lived.

Ginny stumbles forward as her feet crashed into the stepping stones of her dead dormmates home. Steadying herself, Ginny wondered if she would ever get used to apparition. Flying makes sense. Apparating does not.

Grabbing her brother’s arm, she turned him to face her, “Listen, let me do this house alone, yeah?”

Charlie gave her a look, questioning her judgment. “You know you aren’t of age and mum would slit my throat.”

“Please. She was my friend.”

Something in her eyes must have given enough reasoning to Charlie to let her go alone. “I will wait over at the shop across the street. Meet me there when you’re done.”

Ginny pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his thick waist. Charlie was the closest of her siblings to her own height, so she could rest her chin on his shoulder during the embrace. “I won’t be too long.”

She turned away from her brother, the pie her mother gave her rest carefully on her arm. Steadying herself with a shaky breath, she knocked.

A moment passed. And then another. Ginny held her breath as she waited. Maybe she would not have to face them. Maybe she could set the pie down on the step and turn her back and run away from the grief inside the home. But before Ginny could follow her intrusive thoughts, the door opened to a beautiful woman with short auburn hair and laugh lines carved into her face even though she looked as though she had not had a reason to laugh in a long time.

“Hello, my name is Ginn-”

“Ginny come in,” Sophie’s mum invited her in, opening the door wider for Ginny to slip inside.

She shouldn’t be surprised that Mrs. Deacon knew who she was, a classmate of her daughters, a Weasley, a blood traitor whose family housed The Boy Who Lived for years. Ginny did not want to know what the exact reason was that Mrs. Deacon recognized her.

“My mum made this for you,” Ginny said, offering the baked pie that would never fill the Sophie-sized hole in her heart.

“Thank you, that is very sweet of her and sweet of you to drop it off.”

Sophie’s mum took the pie and set it on the kitchen counter filled with other condolence foods. Ginny felt nauseous at the sight.

Ginny sat on the gray loveseat and turned away from the sight and took in the room around her. Light cascaded in and reflected off of the framed photos on the cream wall to brighten the room. Photos of Sophie and her little brother, Samuel, were everywhere. Together with a woman, who must have been their grandmother, standing in Diagon Alley. Sophie singing in the frog choir with her hair tucked back in her signature butterfly clips. Sam tugging on a much younger Sophie’s hair and running away. All moments forever to cycle on repeat, but to never be updated again.

The bile that she swallowed that morning began to rise again.

“Would you like something to drink, dear?” Mrs. Deacon asked, pulling Ginny out of her reverie.

“No, thank you,” Ginny replied, even though she could probably use a glass of water or a shot of firewhiskey.

A grunt from the door leading to the hallway alerted Ginny of Mr. Deacon’s presence. He was a tall man, not as tall as her own father, but much wider. He worked for the Ministry’s Portkey Office. Sophie often boasted about all the places her father traveled for work, and Ginny could see it. A man like him did not belong behind a desk.

“Elric, this is Ginny. She is,” Mrs. Deacon paused, “She was one of Sophie’s classmates.”

Ginny stood to her feet, “Mr. Deacon, I am so sorry for your loss.”

Mr. Deacon waved his hand, his other rubbing his sternum like he too struggled with gastric reflux at the reminder of Sophie.

“I too am sorry for yours. I heard you lost a brother.”

The grief of losing Fred washed over her again like a wave that quickly retreated into a cool, cold nothing. “Yes, I did. Thank you.” Ginny sat back down on the couch. The Deacons sat across from her, gripping each other’s hands.

Silence swept over the room like a cloak. Thick, warm, and suffocating.

Ginny broke the silence first.

“Sophie was-,” Ginny paused, clearing her throat, “she was a beautiful soul. Her voice lit up the dorm room. She would sing under her breath and she studied and then belt songs in the shower. She was wicked at potions and brilliant at Gobstones. She was one of my best friends, and I am so sorry for your loss.”

The all too familiar prickling sensation behind her eyes grew. Rapidly blinking, trying to keep the tears at bay, because she had so much more to say. So she pressed on. “I was there,” Ginny said, looking up to meet Mrs. Deacon’s eye.

The scent of smoke encroached her olfactory system. The feel of Sophie’s manicured hand in her own haunted her skin.

Ginny ignored the memories and pressed on. “When You-Know-Who asked for a pause, I went out to the ground to help.” The words recover bodies left unsaid. “I saw her lying there. She was alive, and she was asking for you. She loved you so much.” The tears building in her eyes escaped, rolling steadily down her cheeks.

"They told us her body was recovered during The Silent Hour, but never by who," Mr. Deacon said, tears brimming his eyes. “Thank you, Ginny.”

The guilt bubbling in her gut was interrupted by footsteps bounding down the steps. Little, 12-year old, Samuel Deacon slid into the room.

“Ginny!” Samuel shouted, eyes filled with joy as though he were seeing a hero. And to him he probably was. She had not seen him in months. Thankfully, Samuel was long gone from Hogwarts during the battle, but the last time she saw him was forever ingrained in her brain. The memory seeped through her pores.

“Pain does not last forever,” Amycus Carrow said to a room full of scared students. “But the memory of it does.” He sauntered across the front of the entrance hall, each step deliberate to draw out the dramatics of what he was saying. Ginny guessed he got this schtick from Tom. “Which is why it makes such an excellent punishment. You remember the pain, so maybe next time you won’t misbehave.” He turned to face her, smiling like a Grindylow ready to to entangle their prey within their long fingers.

“Now can someone please tell me which illiterate idiot graffitied the walls?” Amycus’s voice echoes through the hall. Dozens of eyes stayed focused on the floor. “Was it you?” A finger pointing at a short Hufflepuff boy standing over in the corner. His eyes widened at being called out for a crime he never committed.

“No,” the boy stuttered.

“I don’t believe you,” Amycus sneered, clenching the collar of his cloak, dragging him out into the open. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Sa-Samuel,” the young boy managed to stutter out.

“Well, Sa-Samuel, I hope you remember to never misbehave again.” With those words, Amycus lifted his wand.

Quickly shoving her hand into her bag, fumbling around searching for the jar of paint stashed at the bottom. Her fingers found the cool glass and she yanked it out and threw it at Amycus’s feet.

He turned to meet her, and grinned. The Grindylow caught his prey. “I see I found the illiterate idiot.” He turned his wand to her face, “Crucio.”

“Sam, it is good to see you,” Ginny asked, voice overly pleasant.

To Ginny’s horror, Mrs. Deacon said, “Samuel has told me a lot about you.” She smiled too warmly at her. Like she wasn’t the reason Sam was not almost cursed in the first place. Like she wasn’t the last one to see her daughter alive. Like she deserved forgiveness.

Ginny’s stomach turned and threatened to spill out on their carpet. She needed to leave.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality. I do need to get going.”

Both of the Deacon’s stood immediately.

“Of course,” Mrs. Deacon said.

“Let me walk you out,” Mr. Deacon said.

So Ginny let herself be ushered out. She kept her mouth clamped shut. Afraid to vomit out words along with her guts.

As she reached the door, Mr. Deacon stopped her, “Sophie’s funeral is set on the thirteenth. We would love it if you could make it.”

Ginny couldn’t trust her words, so she nodded in agreement, and burst out the front door. As soon as the door closed, she broke out into a sprint, down to the corner shop where Charlie should be waiting for her.

He was leaning against the side wall, lazily smoking a cigarette.

"Take me home." Ginny said, walking past Charlie.

"But we have one more-"

"Take me home."

Charlie paused before grabbing her arm and spinning on his heel. They arrived in front of the Burrow a second later. Ginny sprinted to the broom shed. Grabbing the closest broom, not even checking whose it belongs to, Ginny kicked off of the ground.

She lapped the Burrow several times, streaking by as fast as the broom allowed her. Up in the air, she could blame her tears on the wind in her eyes instead of the guilt she felt in her heart.

That night, she did not fly.

Hermione snuck out of the room, but Ginny stayed in her bed. Waiting. A soft knock on the door alerted her of his presence. Her bed shifted from his added weight.

They avoided each other that day. Well really, Ginny avoided him and everyone else. Hiding in the sky, and when she was called inside by her mum, she hid in the kitchen. Charlie did not say anything to her, which was a blessing. Her mum did comment on the extra pie brought up, but a quick lie that the Rivers were not home avoided anymore questions.

Harry’s arms snuck around her waist, pulling her against his chest. She tucked herself under his chin as he pressed his nose into her hair. Her hair was still damp from the shower she took earlier that evening, but she knew Harry would not care. In fact, he probably preferred it. The scent of her shampoo freshly washed into her hair. It calmed him.

She wondered if he was struggling with what was going to happen tomorrow as much as she knew she would.

But she did not ask.

Slowly, his breaths evened as he fell asleep behind her. And Ginny fell shortly after.

All mornings have been quiet since the battle at the Burrow. But none compared to this one. Outside, the morning fog was thick and suffocating. Inside, so was the silence.

Weasley family members dressed in black to bury their loudest family member.

When it was time, her father led the family to the grave. Walking in a line to the apparition line on the edge of the Burrow property, and one-by-one apparating to Fred’s final destination. Ginny stood and watched as her loved ones disappeared with a pop. Her dad stood by her side and lifted his arm.

“Ready?”

No.

“Yes,” she said, gripping his arm.

The graveyard was busier than she expected. Her family is large, but so was Fred’s impact.

Old classmates of his, old teammates, old co-workers lined the chairs in the back. Professor McGonagall could be seen from her tall witch’s hat. Hagrid stood off to the side, already loudly sobbing. Ginny felt her tears join his.

She made her way to the front and sat in her seat nestled between Ron and George. The same small wizard that preached at Dumbledore’s funeral and Bill’s wedding stood in the front. A twisted thought crossed her mind about how busy that man is during this week.

And he talked in platitudes. He talked about his sacrifice, how he was a light in the family. But never really about Fred. Ginny wished she had taken the time to write something, then maybe Fred would have gotten the send off he deserved.

George gripped her hand near the end of the small wizard’s speech. “Are you ready to see some magic?”

Ginny grinned, a warmth spreading across her chest. “Always.”

George grinned back at her, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wand. With a small flick of his wrist. A bang behind the gravestones went off.

Gasps wrang out from behind her. Aunt Muriel gave out a shriek of terror, as fireworks lit up the foggy sky.

Sparks flew above her, spelling out the initials F.W. And for the first time all week, Ginny was crying, but she was not upset by it.

After the funeral, the mood was much brighter, the fog outside lifted with the smoke of the fireworks, and Ginny could feel like she could breathe again.

Slowly, the crowd began to thin. Angelina grabbed George’s arm and loudly declared that they were going to the Leaky to celebrate Fred’s life and a group followed her. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur followed shortly after them. After a moment of contemplation, Percy followed suit.

Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading further into the graveyard to where her brothers lay. Her father followed a few steps behind her.

Ron and Hermione were still sitting in their seats. Their chairs were now pushed impossibly close together as Hermione almost sat on Ron’s lap with her head tucked against his chest, and Ron’s face pressed into her hair. Masking the tears that he was shedding.

Ginny steadily made her way up to Fred’s grave. Ash sprinkled the grass from the firework show. She lowered herself to the ground, sitting to the right of the gravestone.

“Hey, Forge,” Ginny murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on the stone. “Miss you.”

Ginny slowly descended down the stairs, unsure exactly which one would creak under her step. She wasn’t sure who would be worse to alert of her late night excursion: her mother or her great aunt.

All she wanted to do was see them and not just take Bill’s word for it that they were safe. Luna. Dean. Hermione. Ron. And of course Harry. Mum nearly locked her in her bedroom when Ginny asked to go to Shell Cottage.

So now she was sneaking to the fireplace in the middle of the night to floo her way over to Shell Cottage. A task significantly less dangerous than any of the times she snuck out in the middle of the night this last year.

The third from the bottom step let out a loud groan.

“Shit.”

“Going somewhere?” A voice from the top of the stairs called down to her. Thankfully, it was the person who would most likely go with her on this adventure.

“I thought getting some nice fresh, saltwater air would be nice at this time of night. Want to come along?” Ginny asked, nodding her head to the living room.

Fred quickly descended the stairs, uncaring if he woke the entire house along the way.

"Is that the plan then? Run off to Shell Cottage without letting anyone know where you're going?"

"You know."

"I know because I caught you sneaking out," Fred retorted. "And when mum and dad wake in the morning and find your bed empty? What will you do after they chain you to your bed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "They won't tie me to the bed."

"No, probably not, but you won't be let out of their sight. And when the time comes when it is important for you to sneak out, you won't be able to."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, hating that she didn't understand.

"I'm saying, wait. Wait until something big. I will go with you then. Not when you're sneaking out to see your boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend."

"I didn't realize you were sneaking off to see Thomas. Don't let me stop you then," Fred teased.

"Oh, shove off," Ginny said, pushing his shoulder.

Heavy footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Harry stood above her, head of messy hair blocking the sun. He held his hand out, an offer to help her up.

She took it, pulling herself up and into his arms in one fluid motion. He enveloped her in a hug, holding her tight against his chest. Ginny breathed in the scent of him. Woodsy and cool, like the morning air in the autumn.

Reluctantly, she detangled herself from him, keeping her hand intertwined in his. There they stood, hand in hand, staring down at Fred Weasley’s grave.

Fred Weasley

1/4/1978 - 2/5/1998

Mischief

Harry gave her fingers a squeeze before letting go. He bent down in front of Fred’s grave. He paused for a second, before pulling out his wand, waving it carefully. A bouquet of daisies appeared in the dirt. Fresh and white. Harry stood, reaching back for her hand, but refusing to look at her.

“Hermione and I went to my parent’s graves on Christmas. She did this,” Harry said, waving his hands at the flowers on the ground, “I thought Fred deserved some too.” He bent down and picked one from the ground, “Daisies mean new beginnings.”

He shifted his weight, "or at least that's what Hermione told me when she showed me how to do the spell."

Ginny’s gut twisted into a knot. "They're beautiful," was all she could muster out. She wasn't sure she wanted a new beginning. She wanted to start all over.

"For you," Harry said, handing her a single flower.

Ginny smiled and accepted the pity flower. Harry didn't believe in the pity flowers either, but it was thoughtful, so Ginny tucked it into her pocket.

When she got home later that night, she tossed it into her windowsill. With hope that maybe the rest of the summer improved from the beginning.

The next several days were spent in mourning. Traveling from funeral to funeral.

Colin’s funeral was hard because she spent 30 minutes before leaving being coached by Hermione on the intricacies of a muggle funeral. Obviously, no fireworks like Fred’s nor an ablaze casket like at Dumbledore’s. But instead a metal contraption that would slowly lower his wooden casket into the ground.

She sat near front on the side with Neville and Seamus on either side of her. Harry with Ron and Hermione in the back, trying to keep attention off of them as much as possible.

Ginny grieved for her friend. Her Herbology partner. The person who never tired answering her questions about the Muggle World. The same sinking feeling that ebbed and flowed in her since the battle came back. She was the reason why he lost half of his first year lying petrified in the hospital wing. Tom was the reason he lost the rest of his life.

Tonks and Remus’s funerals were next. Members of the Order carried both caskets. Kingsley had tears streaming down his face with Tonks’ casket on his shoulders. Her dad looked more tired than usual under the weight of Remus’s casket.

Only one other gravestone stood in the ground on the plot of land. Tonks’ final resting place lay next to the empty grave of her father whose body was never recovered.

In the last row sat Andromeda cradling a young Teddy Lupin. Remus showed her a picture of young Teddy when he visited the Weasley’s at Muriel’s place. Then, his hair was a bright orange. Now, it lacked any sign of vibrance, instead he wore Remus’s signature sandy hair.

Next to Andromeda sat Narcissa, poised, dressed head to toe in expensive black robes. Looking every bit out of place Ginny is sure she felt.

Harry did a double-take after he noticed her next to his godson. Ginny reached forward and laced her fingers with his, offering a squeeze of comfort. On the other side of Harry, Ron pulled Hermione closer to his body.

Instead of the small wizard, Kingsley stood in front of the graves and gave a speech about hope and love and loss. A personal story about Tonks catching a death eater by tripping on top of him was interrupted by wails coming from the back row.

Little Teddy’s uncontrollable sobs echoed in the cemetery. Andromeda tried shushing him to no avail. Narcissa stood, offering a hand, a moment passed before Andromeda passed over her grandson to her sister. Narcissa carried Teddy further away from the funeral and whispers of the guests.

“She has no right,” hissed Ron.

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, his leg bouncing, looking everything but fine.

Kingsley continued on with Teddy’s sobs quieted by distance. Ron kept anxiously looking over his shoulder back at Narcissa while Hermione stared straight forward. Harry leaned forward in his seat, releasing his grip on her hand.

Ginny, for her part, kept listening to Kingsley and silently wondered if she would ever fully understand what happened with those three last year.

The funeral ended with Kingsley and Gawain Robards casting golden sparks at the pair of caskets before they slowly descended into the ground.

Gradually, the crowd began to thin out. Narcissa carefully returned to her sister’s side off in the back, swaying back and forth, cradling a sleepy Teddy in her arms.

Harry stood and started to make his way back towards where his Godson was.

“Mr. Potter. May I have a word?” Gawain Robards asked.

Harry froze momentarily, and Ginny wondered if he was going to tell the Head Auror to fuck right off before he calmly nodded. Robards stuck out his hand, leading Harry away from the crowds, in the opposite direction of Narcissa Malfoy.

Ginny stood frozen next to Ron and Hermione, both just as conflicted as she felt on whether they should eavesdrop on Robards and Harry’s conversation or confront Mrs. Malfoy.

Her mum approached the Black sisters. Ginny snuck over to the back, Ron and Hermione following her closely, ready to witness whatever drama could unfold between Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy. But instead of sharp words or curses shot from wands, her mum swept both Andy and Narcissa into a warm embrace

“I am so sorry about your sister,” Mum said, pulling away from the Black sisters.

Narcissa placed a hand on her mum’s arm, “We do anything to protect our children.” She gave Andromeda a curt nod and took a slender finger to brush Teddy’s cheek. “I won’t intrude any longer than I meant to. It was good to see you, Andy.”

With a pop, Narcissa disappeared.

Harry stormed by a few seconds later, Robards still standing where Harry left him, hand rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice questioned.

“Later,” Harry shortly replied before apparating off, not even sparing Ginny a second glance.

Hermione sighed, turning to Ron. “Ready?” Ron gripped her hand and then both disappeared with another pop.

“Wanker,” Ginny muttered under her breath, “You were supposed to apparate me home.”

Kicking a rock on the ground, Ginny begrudgingly walked back to where her mother was now rocking Teddy.

On the thirteenth, Ginny dressed once again in black. Hermione and her traded their black robes so they were not wearing the exact same outfit to every funeral they attended. By the fourth day of funerals, Fleur was offering her wardrobe to them as well, altering her clothes to fit their bodies.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended every funeral, each of them feeling like they owed it to the witch or wizard who lost their life. Just yesterday, they attended the funeral of a Slytherin fifth year girl that none of them had even met. Ginny joined them most days. Harry side-along apparating her to the graveyard. Occasionally, other members of the D.A. would be in attendance and Ginny would stand next to them.

Harry planned on arriving right before the funeral started, but Ginny wanted to be there as early as possible. Hermione’s heels clicked as she walked down the Burrow steps into the kitchen. “Ready, Ginny?”

Together they apparated to a large wizarding cemetery. A place where thousands of purebloods were buried before. A place that currently had an unusually high amount of fresh mounds of dirt and 6 foot holes due to the significant amount of deaths during the war.

Ginny found her dormmates immediately. Jessica embracing Elise with Athena rubbing circles on her back. They all looked up as Ginny and Hermione approached the trio.

Jessica let go of Elise to engulf Ginny into a hug. "I am so sorry about Fred, Ginny."

"Thank you, Jess."

Jessica paused before wrapping Hermione in a hug as well.

Athena pulled something out of her pocket and placed it in Ginny’s hand.

"Here."

Opening her palm, Ginny felt that familiar tug of her gut. In her hand was a green butterfly clip, similar to the ones Sophie often donned in her hair. Looking up, she saw her roommates all had one clipped in their hair as well.

"Thank you," Ginny choked out, clipping her loose strands back.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Athena asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, "Thank you for the invite, but Ron and Harry should be arriving soon. I will sit with them in the back. You four should sit together."

Hermione gave Ginny’s shoulder a squeeze before walking to the back row of chairs.

The funeral started not too long later. Ginny pressed between Athena and Elise near the front. The four dormmates held hands the entire time, offering gentle squeezes of support to one another as they buried their friend. Little Samuel Deacon sobbed throughout the entire procession, and Ginny wished nothing more than him to have his sister back.

Ginny stayed back after the funeral to watch Harry approach the Deacon family. It was something he did after every burial, apologize to the family. Ginny wished Harry understood that Sophie’s death was not his fault.

Samuel turned away from his parents and gave her a small wave. Ginny lifted her hand, but turned away. The nausea associated with Sophie was churning in her stomach once again.

That night, with her back pressed against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her churning stomach, she lay frozen still.

"You okay?" Harry murmured in her ear.

She wasn't, but she couldn't admit that secret out loud. Especially to the person who carried so much more guilt than she could even begin to imagine. So she lied.

"I'm fine."

Harry had no reason to believe her lie, since it was his favorite lie to tell too. But he pretended for her, pulling her closer to his chest, pressing his lips to the back of her skull.

Not shortly after, his breaths evened out as he was lulled to sleep. Ginny’s brain was ignited on fire, keeping her awake.

“I know, it’s going to be alright,” Ginny lied. Sophie continued to whimper in pain. Ginny could only bear to look at her face, scared of what the rest of her crushed body may look like.

“I want to go home,” Sophie cried out, tears leaking down her face. Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes too.

A sound from behind her drew her away from her dying friend. Ginny couldn’t see anyone, but something in her wanted to get up and follow.

Sophie’s weak cough drew her back in. Blood tinged on her lips, her face losing color as each second passed. “Will you stay with me until I go?” Sophie asked, her voice childlike. She is just a child, Ginny realized. At 17 years old, there was so much Sophie never experienced. So many people Sophie was leaving behind. Ginny’s gut flipped realizing this is why her own mother wanted her to stay hidden.

“Of course,” Ginny choked out.

Sophie’s fingers managed to find Ginny’s. “It’s okay, Gin. You were one of my best of friends.”

Ginny snapped herself out of the memory. Harry still wrapped tightly around her, his heat radiating off his body suffocating her. She wrestled herself out from underneath him, desperately trying to not wake him. She needed fresh air.

Barefoot in the grass, Ginny padded to the paddock and grabbed her broom. She took flight and hoped the night air could cool the fire she felt in her brain.

As the sun began to crack streaks of light in the sky, Ginny crept back into her bedroom. Harry softly snored in her sheets. Ginny smiled as she slid back into his arms. She had been awake for nearly 24 hours, her brain was finally exhausted enough to finally fall asleep.

With no more funerals to attend, the rest of May trickled by. Everyone was stagnant with grief, finding it difficult to progress on. Charlie was growing restless, staying now at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur, but not feeling like he could abandon the family back in Romania just yet. Every time he mentioned the country, her mum would burst into tears.

Percy was just there. All the time. He and her dad would attend work, but then he would always come back to the Burrow instead of his own apartment.

Ginny sat with George most days. They had a quiet understanding that talking was the last thing either one of them wanted to do. A few days a week, they would go to Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes and organize the mess. Some days, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson would stop by and help up, filling in the silence with endless chatter. Other days, the pair would sit on the front counter, passing back and forth a bottle of butterbeer with the radio blasting Wizard Rock in the background.

Ron and Hermione were wrapped around each other at all times of the day. One couldn't even use the toilet without the other hovering nearby on the stairwell.

She had not seen Harry in days due to conflicting schedules. He would fall asleep in her bed after a long day of performing bullshit politics with Kingsley, and Ginny would join him after her nightly flight. When she finally rose in the late morning, his side of her bed would be cold.

Moments alone were rare, and those moments were spent exploring each other's bodies instead of exploring each other's thoughts. They were two vastly different novels only sharing a page with one another and then snapping the book shut before either one could read any further. So Ginny came to her own conclusions.

The burn marks on his thighs were fresh as though his escape dragon from Gringotts scorched him. The ribs she traced with finger in the dark told her that food was scarce. The lightning shaped scar on his chest told a horror story she didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. The erythematous circle branded into his chest was the most confusing part of his story.

Ginny hated to think what conclusions Harry was drawing from her body.

On a cool evening in late May, Ginny decided to actually retire to bed at a reasonable time. The sky had opened into a massive thunderstorm which was not relenting any time soon. Harry and her had played a round of Exploding Snap earlier in the day to pass the time.

"Are you falling asleep with me tonight?" Harry asked, bare legs crossed on her bed, his hand propped behind his head. He looked so casual, like her bed was his own.

"Only if you promise not to snore tonight," Ginny teased.

A pillow flew at her face. Ginny snapped it from the air and threw it right back into Harry’s face. With glasses askew and a smile tugging at his lips, Harry reached out a hand to her.

She eagerly took it, being led to her own bed.

Ginny melted into Harry’s side, his hands immediately resting on her hips pulling her close. She tilted her chin to slot her lips against his.

This part was easy. Harry’s body was a map she had traced and memorized a year ago, and, during the quiet dark nights in her dorm room, she recited to herself.

His lips were soft and chapped. Teeth grazing her own lips, threatening to roughen her up with a bite or two. His chest pressed against her own. His hands, one always wrapped around a strand of her hair, tugging her whenever she pressed up against him just right. His strong thighs, one always slotted in between her legs.

That was the mantra she replayed in her head over and over while her fingers wandered down her skin last year.

But now, in the dark of her warm bedroom, it was Harry’s fingers trailing down her body.

“You’re perfect,” Harry murmured into her collarbone as she moaned his name.

Ginny came undone with the touch of his fingertips, her world bursting, once again, into a fire. Her insides ignited for Harry. She felt far from perfect, but with Harry she felt alive.

Her hands worked to remove his faded T-shirt, eager to return the favor. Fingers trailed down his chest, avoiding the new scars on his body. She wrapped her hand around his length and Harry’s breath hitched, a noise escaping his mouth that Ginny wanted to bottle up and savor forever. He never had to say anything to her ever again as long as he kept making that noise.

“Ginny,” Harry moaned, “I don’t think I will last much long-”

Ginny shut him up by capturing his mouth with her own. Teeth grazing his swollen lips. With a few more pumps, Harry shuddered about another moan that made Ginny’s toes curl.

Harry blinked his eyes open, green irises hidden behind his black pupils, staring hungerly at her. He pressed lazy kisses along her jawline, nose, forehead, before finally catching her lips. “You make me forget everything bad,” Harry sighed into her lips.

Ginny’s insides turned cold, the blazing heat evaporated and replaced by an icy tundra. She wasn’t sure why, Harry’s confession or the idea of forgetting, losing memories.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Ginny said, hoping to prevent any more confessions from slipping through his loose lips.

“Night, Gin” Harry replied softly.

Harry’s bare chest rose and fell with each breath, and Ginny wished nothing more than the ability to join him in unconsciousness. Her finger traced the lightning bolt on his chest, her own chest tightening with memories of that day. She thought she lost him. The final blow in a series of blows that kept hitting her over and over again that night.

With everything she lost, she had to keep taking steps. One at a time.

One breath in. One breath out.

Ginny glanced out her window. The rain had slowed to a trickle. The blooming daisy sitting in the window sill caught her eye. She bolted up from her bed, grabbing the flower on her way out the door.

The orchard was still a mess. Her mum had removed the destroyed flowers, but all that was left was upturned earth. Falling to her hands and knees, Ginny dug in the soil. A wand would have made it easier, but she did not want easy.

Taking a step back and admiring her work, the daisy Harry had given her now rooted in the soil of the orchard. Alone. With a promise of growth.

To new beginnings.

The best and worst day of June (chapter 2)

If May trickled slowly like the water on the River Styx, June crashed in like a tsunami under Poseidon's rage.

The back door slammed close after George drunkenly stumbly out

Maps of Australia and pictures of the brain were pinned up on her walls. Gwenog Jones’s face was covered by a colorful poster highlighting the anatomy of the brain.

“Do you need any help?” Ginny asked.

Hermione tutted, wrapping her hair into a bun and sticking her want through it. “I wouldn’t mind a fresh pair of eyes. Thanks.”

Ginny picked up one of the massive textbook with a brain on the cover Charms of the Central Nervous System: Don’t be Nervous! Opening to the back glossary, Ginny scanned the O’s until she found what she was looking for.

Peering over her shoulder, Hermione said “I didn’t obliviate my parents’ memories. I blocked them.”

“What’s the difference?”

Hermione stood from the bed and walked over to the brain poster covering Gwenog’s face. “Obliviation destroys old memories. Burns them. That is why Gilderoy Lockhart will never fully recover because so much of his brain was destroyed. If little bits are taken then there is some neuroplasticity and ability to regenerate what was missing, but if I took 17 years of my parents' lives from them, I would never be able to get that back.” She paused, staring off into the distance, as though she was realizing the challenge she could be facing instead.

Shaking her head, Hermione continued. “So instead of taking away their memories, I hid them behind a wall.”

“The hippocampus stores memories,” Hermione said, pointing to a part of the brain that looked nothing like a seahorse. “So that is where my parents’ memories are being blocked. I just put their old memories behind a wall and put new memories in front of that wall.”

“There has not been a whole lot of research, but in theory, worst case scenario, if I remove their new memories too quickly, I could cause their brain to blow.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Not like pew pew,” Hermione said, mimicking an explosion. “More like, their brains would swell to fill in the space of the memories that I took back. Which could cause their brain to expand and possibly herniate causing a stroke."

She mindlessly flipped through the pages of the textbook, hoping something would give her hints about memory and memory loss.

Ginny drops comments every now and then about memory loss

She is not very happy that Hermione took her parents memories

“What are you planning on telling your parents when you see them?”

“That I am their daughter and I had to keep them safe.”

“Do you think they will understand?”

“From personal experience, amnesia and having your memories taken from you can be very traumatizing.”

“This is different from the diary, Ginny. I was trying to keep them safe.”

As we will find out in a later chapter, Ginny is not talking about the diary

"Are you going to go with them?" Ginny asks on a warm night.

"No, I don't fancy facing another Winter so soon," Harry replied

And there it was. A hint about what he had faced this past year, but neither one pushed forward. She could ask, and he might answer, but then he might ask the same of her. And that was something she did not want to answer. Some Gryffindor she is.

Harry tells her everything about the horcruxes and how we was one for the last 16 years of his life.

Ginny tells Harry very little about what she experienced this last year.

Hermione goes up to switch beds like they do every night and when Harry is lying next to her, she dreams about him. But when he talks she hears Tom. When she wakes and Harry is laying right next to her, she freaks the fuck out.

The next day she runs away to Lunas

Luna “I always liked being outside. Now I love it even more. It is open, and bright. I’m not a big fan of the dark right now.”

“If you want to talk about it, I will happily listen.”

“Ginny, you are such a good listener, but not a very good talker.”

“You should tell Ron that. He says I never shut up.”

“Oh no you talk, you just don’t talk about what is bothering you. You ask questions about me or how other people are doing, but when people ask how you are doing. You deflect. You talk about how Quidditch is going, or how your family is. But never you.

A few nights later, Harry joins her out flying, and that is when she admits that she is afraid that she was never in love with Harry, but she was attracted to the horcrux within him this entire time.

Harry has to put his big boy pants on and try to be emotionally mature hearing that from her. (Boy does not do a very good job, but at least he is trying)

He tries to get her to open up more about what happened to her and slowly we start to see some things

She picked up a strand of grass, carefully pulling it apart into two separate pieces. A simple distraction. "What do you know of last year?"

"Only what little Neville has told me."

"I'm sure what he told you paints the picture of what happened," she shrugged. She couldn't meet his gaze, she stared at the grass in her hand, delicately tying it into a knot. His hand reached for hers, fingers intertwining. He squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly. Offering support.

---

She is hiding. She doesn’t want to talk to Harry, or see her mum’s broken face. So she is hiding in the one place no one would look.

Laying on Fred’s bed, she could finally be alone.

***enter depressing thoughts here***

---

On June 22nd, she dreams of Tom. She always dreams of him on this day. Their anniversary of meeting face to face in a chamber meant to be a secret. She wants to ask Harry if he remembers, but she doesn't dare for the fear of what he might say.

I forgot.

Lucky you.

So she keeps this nightmare to herself just like she kept the past year to herself. She felt like she was slowly becoming a chamber full of secrets herself.

That night, with her back against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her stomach, was the first time she felt brave all day. In the dark where he couldn’t see her face, when they were alone, unlikely to be overheard since the house was asleep. She finally muttered the truth that haunted her.

“I'm the reason Sophie's dead.”

The only indication that Harry heard her was the pause in his breath. Harry’s arm tightened, pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. And because he understands her perfectly, he does not suggest that she possibly could not be a murderer, he asks a different question.

“Why do you think so?”

She inhales slowly, calming down her nerves. “I left her on the courtyard. We were fighting together, Colin and Seamus were also there. Spells were flying everywhere, and I lost her in the crowd. There just was so much chaos. Then a death eater was in front of me, I think it was Avery, firing curse after curse at me,” Ginny paused, flashes of that night playing over and over in her mind. “I fired a reducto at the arch above his head and it collapsed on top of him. But it caused a lot more damage. It wasn’t much later that Voldemort called for a pause.

“After, well after, I went inside,” Ginny said, skipping over finding out about Fred’s death, “I went out to the courtyard to find survivors. To help. That is where I found her. Underneath the rubble that I caused.”

"You couldn’t have known.”

But Ginny felt like she should have known better. She knew innocent actions have consequences after surviving her first year

I've been down since July

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you

The Great Depression

Pieces of her life were black. Dark and missing and forgotten. She had soared to unimaginable heights to try to find them, but every time she thought she heard a whisper of a memory, it turned into his voice mocking her, or worse, her own voice laughing at her.

Hermione and Ron come back from Australia

Hermione apologizes to Ginny because her mum cannot forgive her. Her dad had to play mediator in the argument.

Her parents are coming back to England eventually, but not yet. They wanted more time before returning home.

Ron and Ginny conversation

"It's supposed to be easy. Harry and me. How it was before."

"What did you used to talk about."

"I tried prying once to know what he was up to with Dumbledore, but Harry not so subtly shut that down quickly. So we stuck to safe topics. Quidditch, O.W.L.s, how maroon definitely isn't your color."

Ron scowled.

Criminal Trials get announced for the Death Eaters and the date

A brown owl flew into the kitchen, dropping off the newest edition of the Daily Prophet on Hermione’s plate. She reached into her shorts pocket to trade a knut for the paper. Ron fed a small piece of his breakfast sausage to the owl as compensation as well. The owl gave a satisfied hoot before flapping its wings and flying out of the kitchen window.

Ginny pointed her fork at her brother. "Who was the person I suggested you snogged for practice?"

"Are you seriously asking me security questions right now?"

"The Ron Weasley I know would never voluntarily give up some of his breakfast."

Ron stabbed his fork in another piece of sausage, taking the whole thing in his mouth, "Yeah well I've matured."

"Oh! They released the dates for the trails!" Hermione shouted, interrupting them.

Ron looked away from her and turned back to his girlfriend. “When’s Malfoy’s?” He asked, kindly swallowing his food before asking.

The Carrow trials get announced for like August 13th, making sure that they are AFTER Ginny's birthday which makes her an adult, therefore, she is required to speak at them if they summon her as a witness

yeah this was done intentionally, fuck the ministry for forcing my girl to have to relive her trauma

Harry’s birthday

Ginny gets drunk at Harry’s party

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

August slipped away

Ginny’s birthday

Carrow trials

Amycus was a man. He only understood pain in tears and in blood. He didn’t understand that to girls blood meant nothing more than washing their sheets that night before bed. He didn’t understand that girlhood was pain, or that tears could be shed from grief or laughter.

Alecto was a woman. She understood that trauma of girlhood because no matter how horrid she currently is, she was a victim of it too. She understood how to torture a young girl scared of her past. She knew how to weaponize memories, or the lack thereof, so that Ginny could continue to torture herself without Alecto lifting another finger.

Ginny turned to the other side of the courtroom where Amycus Carrow sat. His face emotionless, but his muddy eyes filled with glee, like her reliving her torture was *erotic* for him.

She felt her heart quicken. Calm down.

Breathe in and out.

"Her brother told me."

Her mind brought her back to the floor of the DADA classroom. Those same hungry brown eyes staring down at her, his wand still raised. Every one of her nerve endings felt like it was on fire, every synapse filled with ice. Her mind bounced from one area of her body to the next, unable to focus on what body system hurt the most. Amycus lowered his wand and sneered down at her, "I know Alecto makes you forget her detentions, but I want this one to be unforgettable."

The courtroom was silent. The judge leaned forward in his chair, "Can you please further explain, Miss Weasley?"

Breathe In.

Out.

In.

Out.

• So since I never actually wrote what happened to Ginny during her time with Alecto, I will tell you all now. Alecto would erase Ginny's memory after every detention. Often times, the detentions were tame, because the punishment was the fact that Ginny was slowly losing her mind and she felt like she was reliving her first year at Hogwarts. Alecto figured out that Ginny was the girl in the chamber (because how would people not know this information? like Ginny wrote her suicide note on the wall in red paint) and used that to torment her. Also tying in the fact that Amycus was still torturing my poor girl with the cruciatus curse, Ginny was going through it. And it is not like she could really tell anyone what was happening to her because she didn't know what was happening to her. She eventually pieced it together.

• The coming together of Harry and Ginny officially

You'll Have New Septembers

The epilogue where Harry sends Ginny off on the Hogwarts express

#graveyard fic #hinny #ginny weasley #i could just upload the first chapter.... but that also feels like a disservice to the rest of the fic #Spotify

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gaysindistress · 1 year ago

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As Good a Reason - seven

pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, blood, more character deaths, smutty moments but not full spice

word count: 2.6k

Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn @emerald-writes

a/n: AHHHH HERE'S THE FINAL PART OF AS GOOD A REASON!!!! I know I went MIA for a minute but I'm back. I started a new job and moved states so it's been an absolutely crazy week for me. Going forward, I'm going to be slower with updating and fics will probably only come out once a week. I've been focusing on editing Divine Violence and catching up on my reading stack (my poor kindle is overloaded) but I promise I won't forget about all of you on tumblr <3 <3 <3

six | series masterlist

Victoria is silent during the drive, keeping her stare ahead and out the front window without so much as a single glance to her sister or brother. Y/N keeps shooting glances at Niklaus for explanation but he offers nothing.

“Vic,” she says softly, touching her sister’s shoulder and she flinches at the touch, “Vic what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer at first but the second time that her sister asks, she briefly looks back at her and whispers something.

“What did you say?”

Clearing her throat, she says the unthinkable, “Brock made me do it.”

“What did he make you do?” Niklaus says as he leans towards the front seat.

“I didn’t have a choice. He….he said if I loved him, I would do it.”

Steve glances over in concern from the driver’s seat, “What is she going on about?”

“I know just as much as you,” Y/N scoffs before turning to her sister, “Vic what did he make you do?” “He said that if I was a good daughter, I would do it,” she mumbles to herself as she pulls something from under her loose sweatshirt. Steve looks over at her again and slams on the breaks in efforts to stop her from pulling out the weapon. The sudden stop sends everyone flying forward as well the knife Victoria had started to pull out. Steve snatches it up before she can with one hand and has a gun pointed at with the other. The car behind them, the one that Sam and James are in, slams to a halt as well as the two men clamor out.

“What the fuck?” James hisses when he approaches the driver’s side. He narrows his eyes at everyone inside the car and lets out a disappointed sigh when he sees the knife and a shaking Victoria.

“I expected more of you, Victoria Marie,” he scolds her as if she is a child and nods to Sam and Steve. Sam rips the backseat door open and pulls the other two triplets out as Steve hands him the knife.

“What are you doing?” Niklaus sneers at Sam and James but neither of them answer. Y/N tries her hand at getting an answer but again gets nothing aside from a stern look from James. Steve exits the vehicle next as the two are dragged back to the second car. He grabs hold of Y/N who fights him tooth and nail to get out of his hold but it’s useless.

As they’re shoved into the car, they hear a gunshot. Both gasp and let out cries of anger, rage, pain, sadness, anything at all that they’ve felt in the last six years. James joins them in the car, cleaning the barrel of Steve’s gun off on his pant leg. He says nothing as Sam drives off.

The car where Victoria should be in is starting to smoke as flames try to lick up the sides. Y/N looks at him in horror but no reaction.

Two Rumlows gone in the span of two hours.

Who is next?

Five days pass before Y/N leaves her room.

She guarded the door with any piece of furniture she could find and refused to open it unless absolutely necessary. Niklaus, of course, had been the only expectation however he too rarely left his room.

That was until Steve pounded on their doors, demanding that they be downstairs in 15 minutes for a reunion dinner. Y/N scoffs at the idea of having a reunion dinner when all her and her brother want to do is grieve.

Another pound on the door brings her attention back and she takes a sharp breath in before opening it. A black box sits on the ground in front of the door and it takes everything in her to not stomp on the fragile lid. She picks it up and tosses it onto her bed, staring at it as she sits on the floor. It’s similar to the box she got that first night days ago.

Weeks ago.

Months ago?

Honestly at this point, Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was dragged back to this hell hole of a city and had her life turned upside down. All she knows is that the grip that James had on her is growing tighter everyday. It’s becoming suffocating, squeezing out any breath that she tries to take and that box on her bed is a physical reminder of the hand that’s always wrapped around her throat.

She climbs to her feet and hesitantly takes a seat next to the box, contemplating whether or not she should let the hand control her even more. A thought crosses her mind, one that chills her to the bone.

What would James do to Klaus?

Her fingers quickly flick open the box and the lid slides back to reveal a gold necklace sitting on black tissue paper. She lets out a deep sigh at the theatrics that James puts into everything that he does. Picking up the necklace, Y/N scoffs as she looks it over. Of course, he would ask…command her to wear a necklace with his name on it.

However as her fingers pick it up, they catch on the paper to show a bundle of black gleaming fabric. She pulls the paper back even more and takes out the dress he’s also silently demanding that she wears. It’s a mid length square neck dress that will no doubt show off everything she wants to hide from men like James.

Sneering at both disgusting gifts, she throws them back into the box and shoves it off her bed. It clatters to the floor as she stares at it in anger, a deep feral anger that needs to be released. This anger accepts only one payment though and that is blood. More specifically that of the White Wolf’s.

Only the sounds of clanking silverware and the occasional conversation between James and his men. Niklaus and Y/N stayed silent from the moment they saw each other in the hall. He glared at the dress and necklace she wore and she wanted desperately to tell him it was all a facade but she couldn’t without tipping off the men around them. She could see the palpable anger in his eyes, the hurt that flashed when he read the name that claimed her throat. She tried to convey with her eyes that it would all end tonight but he looked away too quickly and went back to eating.

The dining room is much like the rest of the house, black and devoid of any emotion. She wants to make a remark about it mirroring the inside of the owner’s heart but one quick glance to the head of the table keeps it locked behind her painted lips.

James, ever the regal mafia leader, is leaning back in his chair as he watches over his subjects. Surprisingly he’s only wearing a half buttoned black short sleeve and black slacks. Y/N pretends to trail her eyes over the tanned skin that is on display and when she lands on his face, there is a smirk welcoming her heated gaze. He takes a swallow of his favored amber liquid without breaking eye contact with her. A shiver of disgust wants to wash over her body but she suppresses it as Sam speaks. He drones on about whatever useless business he and Steve dealt with today, no doubt so insignificant that if Klaus or Y/N tried to use it against them, it would do nothing. She knew this routine well; dangle pieces of information before their enemies in efforts to get them to strike. Brock had done it time and time again to the point that the remaining Triplets knew it well. Well enough to not take the bait.

Dinner slowly comes to an end as servants take away the empty places, leaving all of the guests to glare at each other. Y/N’s fingers tap lightly on the steak knife that remains, drawing attention to it and Steve motions for it to be taken away. James chuckles under his breath as he watches the interaction but says nothing. Y/N smirks on the inside but puts on a face of frustration.

Both her and the White Wolf knew that if she was going to try something, she wouldn’t have been so obvious as to grab a steak knife. No, James knows that it’s a distraction but he wants to watch her plan unfold before stopping her.

His sharp eyes meet hers again and they pin her to her seat. She sees his mouth move but she can’t hear the words that come out. She guesses that he dismissed everyone from the way that everyone clears out of the room , leaving them alone. Niklaus shoots her a glance before Sam pushes him out and she gives her brother a small nod.

I’ll be okay.

Niklaus doesn’t fight Sam because he knows that she will be but it does little to calm the rising fear. He nods back.

Be careful.

She smiles at him, covering her sinister plan with sibling love.

Once the door is closed and they are finally alone, Y/N settles her gaze back on James who had been watching the interaction. He sits his glass on the arm of his chair as he looks her over. A twinkle of something positively feral flashes in his eye when he takes in the necklace and dress she is wearing.

“I figured it better to comply,” she offers as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Comply?” he questions, “You make it sound like I’m a tyrant.”

“You’re far worse.”

James lets out a deep laugh that’s more animal like than human, “If I were then your brother’s head would’ve been served for dinner.”

Y/N takes another slow sip of her wine to hide her seething anger at the suggestion.

“And then I would’ve taken you in front of the others.”

She turns to narrow her eyes at him, “What if I said no?”

“You won’t have.”

“How can you be so sure?” The glass of his cup clinks on the table as he sits it on the table before him, “Look at what you’re wearing. I’d say that is a pretty good indication that you wouldn’t say that to me.”

She rolls her eyes at him and sits her own glass on the table. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for her next move. Before James can say another vile thing, she quickly stands and walks to the head of the table. Perching herself on the table just beside him, Y/N gently pushes at the arm of James’ chair. Taking the hint, he moves back an inch and takes her by the hips to pull her in front of him. She had only been this close to him a handful of times but every time it’s just as terrifying as the last. His cold attitude extends to the air that circles him and now her. His scent of leather, guns, and blood engulf her and caress the sides of her face as he watches her every move.

In another life, she knew that she would’ve fallen for him. She could see the charm and confidence that he would use on her to get her into bed. She could see the way that he would shower her with gifts to the point where she would have to beg him to stop. She could see how he would laugh when he kissed up her neck, claiming that she would never have enough and would never stop giving her the world.

However now with the predatory look in his eye, she’s not sure that he would ever be the James that she pictured in her head. This man, the White Wolf, is the image of pure evil down to the way that he lazily smiles up at her, a dark look swimming in his equally darkening eyes.

“Don’t pull anything stupid, little snake,” he murmurs to her as he drinks in the way his name lays on her breasts.

“Who said I was going to do anything?” she murmurs back as she leans down into his space.

“I know that look.”

She bats her lashes at him, fiending innocence and he laughs again, that deep rumble in his chest squeezing the air from her lungs. His right hand makes a slow climb up her arm as she leans down and finds its place on her throat, just above where his name sits on its golden chain. His thumb rubs her jaw, tipping her face down by her chin so he can look at her better. His tongue swipes his bottom lip as he appreciates the red painted on hers.

“We both know you’re not some stupid innocent doll,” he whispers to her, “You’re my little snake, clever and deadly.”

“Are you my White Wolf then?”

James smirks at her question and draws her closer, “That depends.”

“On?”

“If you plan to keep trying to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him. His soft lips move against hers in a slow but domineering way, control every slide and move they make. The hand around her neck slips into her loose hair while his other hand pulls her by the hips onto his lap and slips up on her lower back. Under her, she can feel the hardness forming in his pants and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him moving against her. One of her hands tangles into her hair, pulling at it so his head falls back and she descends upon his neck.

Y/N leaves wet kisses on his jaw and down his neck as they move against each other, gasps and moans leaving both of them. In their desperation to devour each other, James didn’t notice that her other hand was nowhere to be felt on his body nor did he see the flash of silver in the fire light.

“Fuck,” he chokes out when that flash of silver hides a place in between his sixth and seventh rib. Y/N quickly pulls the small dinner knife out and plunges back into the same area. The shock of her attack and the pain that is growing hot in his side stop him from pushing her off or defending himself in other ways.

She pulls away, still sitting on top of him with the bloody knife in her hand and gives him a small smile. He breathlessly chuckles at the sight, “Wouldn’t dream of it?”

“It’s not a dream anymore,” she offers with a small shrug.

James drops his hands from her body as she slides off and lets her knife on the table just out of his reach. The attack on his spleen will cause him to bleed out slowly enough that he will feel every moment of it but fast enough that there would be nothing anyone could do to help him. They both know it and he wants to laugh again at the situation but the pain prevents him from doing so.

“Why?” he asks, almost too quiet for her to hear but she does. She pauses at the door to answer him.

“Spite.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #as good a reason bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader

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wikiangela · 9 months ago

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tease tidbit tuesday💀

tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck 💖

hi! so, yesterday I randomly opened the doc with the buddie death cast au - which is a fic I started writing last summer on vacation and never got back to it but then made progress lol it's gonna be MCD, which i know is not everyone's thing so feel free to ignore this 🤣 it's basically buddie in the universe of the "they both die at the end"/"the first to die at the end" books so it's gonna be sad, sorry lol (I never even read mcd, idk why i'm writing this but this idea just wants to be written i guess haha) gotta put this weird mood I've been in lately to good use and finally write this 🤣 not sure if I'm happy with this snippet, but it all needs editing, the first two snippets were written on my phone and haven't been edited yet lol

I posted two snippets so far, gonna link them both snippet 1 | snippet 2

___

“Is all of this clear, Eddie?” she asks in the end.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” he says shortly. He should've just hung up immediately. Or cancel this stupid subscription after Shannon died. Sometimes he wonders if maybe people who get the calls and coincidentally get into accidents, for example, just give up and refuse to fight because they think it’s their time. Not like Shannon could do much, her injuries were too severe when they got there, but the point stands. Maybe they get more reckless, thinking it doesn’t matter anyway.

There’s a short pause on the line, but then Jane speaks up again, her tone softer, more sympathy seeping through.

“I know it’s not easy to accept, if you’d like some help with that, on out website you can find therapists and grief counselors specializing in-”

“Listen.” Eddie interrupts. He’s spent enough time in therapy. He’s not doing it on his supposedly last day. “I know it’s all bullshit. I don’t care. You said what you had to say, I listened, for whatever reason.” he rolls his eyes. He really should’ve hung up, or not answered at all. “Is this conversation over yet?” he asks and is met with another moment of silence. She’s probably wondering what everyone else always is: why is he even spending money on this if he doesn’t believe. He has an answer ready to go, but that’s not what she asks.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says quieter, whispering, probably not allowed to go too much off-script.

“Sure, why not.” he shrugs. He’s wide awake now, anyway, he’s not in a hurry. Not like he’s dying anytime soon.

“If it was your last day, how would you spend it? You don’t have to answer, just think about it.” she adds quickly, her tone much softer and gentler now. Eddie’s mind immediately supplies a picture of Christopher and Buck, just a casual hang-out, like usual, maybe going to the movies, or the aquarium, or the planetarium, something fun for his kid. And later a gathering with the rest of their family, maybe a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s, with Maddie and Chim, and Hen and Karen, all their kids, just everyone having fun together. Yeah, that’d be a perfect day. “There’s no harm in spending today just like this, if possible. Just in case.” Jane adds, still whispering. He doesn’t tell her that’s more or less his plan, anyway, for the evening after his 12-hour shift. During which nothing will happen to him, because Death-Cast doesn’t know shit. “Well, lastly, Eddie,” Jane’s voice is back at normal-volume, tone strictly professional but sympathetic, as she recites the end of her script, “on behalf of everyone here at Death-Cast, we’re so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest.”

Eddie hangs up without a word.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @diazsdimples @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks

#tease tidbit tuesday #death cast buddie au #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #angst #buddie angst #mcd #i don't know how yet but eddie will die in this one bc apparently ive been in the mood to break my own heart lmao #i wanted to say maybe i'd share smth happier tomorrow but i don't think i have any happy wips im actively working on rn???#there are happy wips in general but im not really in the mood/inspired for those rn #ran out of happy when i finished the natalia fic i guess lol #who even am i lmao what's with all the angst and sad im usually all about fluff 🤣#(gonna share some more of alive shannon tomorrow!)#btw if you haven't read the books and have questions hmu but also i'll try to make everything clear in the fic lol #but also SO recommend the books they're so good and so sad and I think about them like at least once a week (the prequel wrecked me)

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simpforfandoms · 2 years ago

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to be loved

please send in requests, it’s like the only way I have actual motivation to write. wrote this in an hour after writing a six page essay. sorry I haven’t been active

summary: you want to be lost in him, but not in this way.

pairing: bruce wayne x reader (no pronouns used (at least I don’t think))

genre: angst no comfort because in real life that doesn’t happen.

warnings: no editing

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

“You’re being so much like your father”

“My father was a good man.”

“Oh please, your father was a corrupt business man!”

The conversation is now a full blown argument. It wasn’t about getting your point across. It wasn’t about trying to state your mind. No it was a competition. Who could respond quicker? Who could hurt the other person more? Who would win? No more educated statements, only rash insults.

“Don’t you dare talk about my father that way!” He yells walking toward you, as to challenge you.

You shake your head at his tactics, “Everyone told me you got the worst qualities from your father. The self absorbness, the playboy facade, and the way you can never see when to give up. That you would never make a good husband” You scoff in disbelief. “And I defended you! Never noticing your red flags because you hid them so well!” You cry out

“Oh you want to present yourself as a victim to make yourself feel better? You and I both know you chose this life” He screams at you.

In every argument you have ever had, never once had he screamed at you. In all the rage and frustration, your beloved and devoted husband had never ever been as mad at you as he was now. His eyes were hardened and no matter how deep you looked into them you could find not a once of love. The very realization of this made you sick to your stomach, and you instantly feel tears well. Whether they were from shock, frustration, or sadness, you didn’t know. In truth, you knew you had no right to be upset at his words. You’re the one who started the argument. But some selfish part of you did want to play the victim. Deep down you knew there was truth to his words, not that you’d ever admit it.

“You wanted it until you didn’t.” He states much calmer than before. You assume this is probably because he noticed your tears or maybe it was because he just wanted to stop the yelling.

You shake your head rapidly, as if to stop the tears, “What choice did I have? I wanted you! Not the Batman. And when you told me that you couldn’t- No that you wouldn’t give up the mask, I understood, I really did. And when things started getting tough I was there for you because I love you. And to love you means to love every part of you including Batman. But now it seems you’re consumed by it, him. The man I fell in love with is no longer there. It’s just a shell of a man that once was. I don’t recognize you anymore. I look at you and all I see him”

You look him in the eyes to see anything, anything at all, but you see nothing but a mask. A mask he was putting on. You sigh. Maybe this is the end of it all. You didn’t want it to be. You love him. Hell, you had given your whole life to him. You didn’t go out and explore the world, unlike Bruce who left you for a 7 year journey. But you never once dated anyone else during that time. Remaining faithful. Because you loved him and couldn’t betray him like that even if you were on a break. When he said he had to leave to do something important, you promised him that you would be there when he came back with open arms. You’d know him since you were children, dated since you were teenagers, married since you were adults. Never once have you dared to look at another man. Bruce was the only man for you. You were sure of it. But sometimes you wondered what life would be like if you hadn’t waited for him all those years ago. You often get postcards from your old friends exploring the world. Each and everyone you read with a pinge of envy. Envious that they got to live their life while you’re here in Gotham, still with your Highschool sweet heart. Maybe that’s why you never went to any of the stupid highschool reunions. You knew they would judge you for being in the same spot and relationship you were in all those years ago. They would ask you what have you done? And you wouldn’t know how to respond. Truth is you’ve done nothing with your life but Bruce. He was your whole life. Your whole goddamn universe. But somewhere alone the line you got tired of it. Tired of it all. You felt stuck. And that’s the worse feeling in the whole world. A third wheel in your own relationship. You can’t just leave him because throughout the years it became a kind of codependency. He couldn’t function without you, and you without him. But you can’t do it anymore. It deteriorating you. Can’t he see your sunken eyes from staying up all night waiting for him? Your callused hands from stitching his wounds? Your biten lips from biting them every-time he goes out in fear he might not return? You love him with all your heart but sometimes love just isn’t enough.

He lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. He loves you. He knows that. He knows you better than anyone, but yet he doesn’t know what you want him to do. Perhaps he should do what he wants to do. But what he wants to do is run out and go punch some unsuspecting criminals to blow off steam. What good would that do if when he gets back you might not be there? However this is Bruce Wayne we’re talking about. The Bruce Wayne that is afraid. Afraid that even if he does try to talk it out you’ll admit something that will be harder to swallow than you just leaving unannounced. He wouldn’t know how’d he handle it if you ever blatantly told him you were leaving and why. He can stand you leaving without closure because then at least he can still have hope. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had to accept the truth. That it’s his fault that you’re leaving. So he did what he does best. Leave to go punch some bad guys.

You scoff through tears in disbelief, he had turned away from you to go on patrol. Typical Bruce. You wanted him to fight. To argue. To reassure you that everything was going to be alright. That he still loved you. That he cared. But he doesn’t. Instead he gets into the Batmobile and drives off. You don’t know why you expected more from him. You had almost yelled after him. But you didn’t. Now no amount of words can fix what’s already broken. It’s time you let go of this broken ship before it takes you down with it.

…

When Bruce gets back he’s not surprised that all of your stuff is gone. He anticipated it. But yet it still hurts. A part of him had hoped that you would be waiting when he got home. Opened armed and ready for his apology, like you had done so many times before. This time was different though. You had pulled your heart and soul out to him and he ignored you. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You finally came to your senses that you deserved better. Bruce let’s out a weak smile at the thought of you finally being happy in all the way he couldn’t make you. Your crinkled eyes as you smiled. Your laugh that you thought was the ugliest thing, but the most beautiful thing to him. You deserved to be like that all the time. You deserve it all, he thinks. He is taken back to the harsh reality of the situation by a soft knock. He can’t help the way his heart leaps at the thought that it might be you. But then he opens the door and sees Alfred. His hope instantly fading.

“Master Bruce, I brought you some sleeping tea. As I imagine that it might be hard for you to sleep.” That’s all Alfred says, and places the the tea tray on the bedside table.

Nothing more nothing less. That’s what everyone loves about Alfred. He knows not to bring up you gone because he knows Bruce isn’t ready to talk about it. But he’ll bring him tea to silently let him know that he’s knows and he’s there. Bruce wonders if he had done the same for you. Well comforted you as you were leaving. Reassured you that you’d be okay. He’s glad that Alfred brought him some tea so he can go to sleep where his dreams with you reside. Bruce can’t help but feel the ache in the top of his stomach at the thought of you. Guilt? Sadness? Anger? Perhaps all three. He’s mad at himself for not fighting for you when he had the chance. Guilt for not giving up the stupid Batman. He knew you would do it for him. Had he said the word you would do anything for him. If he had told you to stay you would’ve. Guilt for keeping you in a this relationship for so long when you deserved so much better. His subconscious knew that he couldn’t keep you trapped in a relationship with him forever. So he let you go. He loves you, and you him. But like they always say if you love something you have to let it go. But letting you go it is better than losing the love completely if he continued to drain you. It would grow to become a even more resentful marriage than it already was. At least now there was still love left, and cherished memories not ruined by hate and anguish.

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #Bruce wayne x reader angst #angst #no comfort #marrige #bruce wayne one shot #Bruce Wayne x reader one shot #Bruce wayne x you #Batman x reader #dc comics #dc comics imagine #Spotify

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legacygirlingreen · 2 years ago

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Christmas with the Sallow Family: Chapter 4 || Sugarplum Fairy

Authors Note:

I am back! I apologize for taking so long, school really heated up, but I graduate in about 10 days so I am finally getting free time back! Thank everyone who’s continued to support this story. I really hope this has been worth the wait, and soon should have more availability to work on future chapters! I haven’t had much time to edit, but I figured it better to post and edit later. Again, thank you all! Special thanks to @anto-pops for the advice on writing NSFW content, as this is my first attempt at it… So strap in folks because things are finally getting a tad serious.

Also, I usually go for historical accuracy, but couldn’t resist throwing in the Nutcracker during a fic set at Christmas. Historically it wouldn’t become a ballet till about a year later, but for the purposes here we can bend the rules a tad… Anyways, sending positive vibes to you all!

Warnings: NSFW content! (Finally). Minors do not interact! 18+.

Reminder: This work is part of a larger collection of work, see Masterlist (Pinned on Profile) for the rest of this fic!

Word count: 9,000 words

previous chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/legacygirlingreen/713708165693308928/christmas-with-the-sallow-family-chapter-3?source=share

After an uneventful dinner in the Sallow home, the four young adults migrated out into the center of the hamlet with the rest of residents to partake in Christmas Eve festivities. Some of the older men played enchanted instruments to the tunes of upbeat folk songs, as children ran around playfully dancing to their song. Solomon who had opted to stand guard with some of the town’s men in case of another goblin attack, left them without the looming sense of awkwardness that had existed while they ate a few hours prior.

Sebastian had opted to change back out of his father’s jumper, as it was slowly getting colder, and he didn’t want to damper the mood with its presence. She still wore the same dress as before as they watched as Anne was playfully spinning with one of the young boys in their village. Ominis had laughed as the small boy, who had grown quite smitten with Anne as she remained behind in Feldcroft, politely asked her to dance with him. Shortly there after, Ominis himself was roped into showing the younger sister of the boy dancing with Anne how he was able to use his wand to move about despite his blindness, as the girl was also heavily vision impaired. Sebastian watched as his twin had to duck quite low to move her head under the small child’s arm as the boy attempted to spin her as he saw the adults of their hamlet do for the women. At the same time, Ominis was cautiously moving the small girl about in front of him with his wand pointed out in front of the both of them. It made him smile seeing his friend and his sister engaged so sweetly with smaller children who lived next door.

Without thought, he turned himself towards the girl next to him. She sat perched on one of the low stone walls surrounding the main circle of their village’s center. Sebastian found himself standing behind her, arms coming to rest on the sides of her, as she leaned back slightly onto his chest in her seated position. She turned her head to the left, noting how Ominis was entertaining the little girl by sharing how he navigated the world with a child who shared his condition.

“I never knew Ominis was so good with children” she said as she noted the way he helped lift the girl, who was nearing the end of her toddler years, and moved them both towards Anne and the young boy with the help of his wand. The little girl shrieked in laughter at how she, like Ominis, had a vague sense of the world around them with the help of the sentient wand.

“I do believe it may just be that child in particular” Sebastian sad with a chuckle before continuing “He usually finds kids off putting and overtly loud”.

“I guess I can understand where he is coming from… it is still sweet nonetheless.” She said, words trailing off in deep thought at the sight before them both. Anne and Ominis had rejoined with the young siblings, forming a small circle where they all were slowly spinning together.

Sebastian watched for a moment longer, before allowing his eyes to wander back to the girl. He couldn’t help but notice the way the moonlight cast lovely shadows on her face, or the way the firelight danced in her eyes. Hearing the melodic laughter of the children, yet his own eyes lost as they danced over her distracted form, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to a place they could both inhabit in the future. How he could home from work, crossing the threshold to greet her, before reaching down to observe whatever mischief some smaller version of them had created during his time away for the day.

“What are your thoughts on children?” She asked, breaking his train of thought before it could fully develop.

“In general or…?” He asked, aiming to figure out exactly what kind of answer she was desiring from him. He didn’t doubt for a second if she asked him, despite their age, he would give an honest answer. He simply wanted her to ask him without any reservations and on her own terms.

“Well I mean obviously in general, but also… having kids? Is that something you want some day?” She asked him, wavering for a moment before finding confidence to turn her body around to face him as she firmly planted her stare in his own.

“I like children. I enjoy the way their minds work, and how they are honest to a fault. I admit, I haven’t had much experience with them up close I am afraid. My parents only had Anne and I, as it was a traumatic delivery for my mother, so they decided one pair of rambunctious twins to be enough. Solomon has never even attempted to find a woman. We have no other family, so the extent of my experience has been back here during the summers with the few children in the hamlet.” He said, fingers playing with the strings of her corset unconsciously as his eyes wandered around the bustling hamlet to observe the youth spread about.

Sebastian remembered small moments where he had been asked to watch over the siblings dancing with his Twin over the past summer, and how while nerve wracking at times, he enjoyed getting the chance to entertain them. They never failed to make him laugh at their antics.

He looked back up into her pleading eyes, and he knew what she wanted to hear. “I definitely want children someday” he said confidently. Even before he had met her, he knew that at the very least he wanted to pass on his family’s namesake, as there was little chance Solomon would, and he was the only remaining Sallow who could. Although, with as much as he knew Ominis hated being a Gaunt, it wouldn’t surprise him if one day their friend took Anne’s name…

“You do?” She asked, seemingly shocked at how open he was on the topic, especially at his age. While the Twins were due for their 17th birthday shortly after Christmas, she was surprised he already had come to a conclusion on his future while still, in the eyes of the law, technically being considered a child himself. While in her muggle village he may be considered old enough to already have started that path in life, she had come to learn that in the Wizarding World, they were not quite as quick to marry off their sons and daughters…

“Of course” he said, smile beaming at her pleasant surprised expression. She briefly looked down at her lap before reaching forward to tug his jacket only slightly so he would come closer to her. He chuckled at her desire to pull him closer as he admitted he wanted children.

“Hey now, just because I desire children someday does not mean I want them now” he playfully retorted while wiggling is eyebrows at her action and he loved watching as she turned bright red at his teasing. She scoffed but didn’t push him away. She smoothed a hand over the trim of his lapel before straightening the simple “S” pin he adorned on the same side as his heart.

“What about you Missy? Do you see yourself having children?” He asked her, realizing she hadn’t commented on the matter. While her smile had told him that she most likely held the same ideas as him in the matter, he didn’t truly know.

She lifted her hand to cup Sebastian’s cheek as she carefully brushed a hand over the planes of his face. Her other hand migrated to his shoulder, fingers slowly tracing the soft hair at the back of his neck as his eyes slowly drifted shut at her soft contact. A small smile worked its way onto his face, as no matter how much she did it, he truly never got over how much he adored her gentle fingertips brushing along his skin and hair. However this was short lived, as she began speaking, his eyes snapped back open to watch her reply.

“I could see myself coming home to a little girl maybe… with a thousand freckles spilling across her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose” she said, softly tracing a path across the center of his face with her pointer finger before coming to frame his eyes as she continued “perhaps she would even have big doe eyes, full of the same mischief I see right here”. She softly traced the skin under his eyes as she gazed up at him. He felt a shudder run through him as she kept going.

“Or a young boy… with a big toothy grin” she said, fingers lightly brushing over his lips as he suddenly felt a weight drop in his stomach, but she didn’t stop there. The fingers in his hair continued as their movement went from unconscious to deliberate. “Maybe he’d have thick, unruly, brown hair that would need to be tied back while he played like his father…”

Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the way she seemed to remember what he had told her about himself as a child in the Undercroft that so long ago. The day he decided he would do anything to be able to show her his love. He loved how comfortable she felt confirming that he would in fact be the father of these idealistic children. Even more, he loved the thought of her desiring a possible daughter to have his dark eyes or a son having his thick Scottish hair.

He always had wondered what parts of his parents he inherited, as well as what one day he would pass on. While he wasn’t particularly fond of his skin’s blemishes from spending so much time in the sun, a small part of him was relieved to hear how much she seemed to adore the marks that covered his body.

If he focused hard enough, Sebastian could almost see the same image in his head. A little girl with similarly colored locks to her own, framing chubby cheeks filled with freckles. The shallow slope of his nose, but her soft smile paired with his dark eyes and her long eyelashes. He could almost cry thinking of how sweet such a child could look being perfectly comprised of both their features. He had always loved the name Estelle.

She paused for a moment, worried her words had frightened him, as he continued blinking rapidly with a far off look in his eye. He was shocked back to reality when her hand started slowly trailing off his face to return to her lap. Sebastian pushed it back up before she got very far, his fingers caressing her own as he took in a deep breath to steady himself.

“While I like your train of thought…” he started, slightly startled by how the lump in his throat made itself known as he began to speak, but he powered through as he stared in her eyes.

“I think that’s entirely too much of myself in children I one day hope, will take after their mother’s beauty”

“Yo-you want your children to…” she couldn’t find the words as she had a thousand thoughts running through her brain at his admission that one day, he wanted to share a home and children with her.

“To look as lovely as you, yes.” He said, noting the way she had a small tear leak out without realizing. Sebastian simply brushed it off her cheek without commenting on it. He understood how such words might draw such a reaction. He had felt such an odd stirring in himself at the conversation. All the sorrow he’d known for losing his parents mixed with the joy he felt knowing he was building something with this lovely girl.

“I disagree… I think their father to be quite handsome” she said, loving the way his dimples appeared at her comment.

“Then its settled. One day we will make beautiful children and people can argue which one of us contributed more to their good looks.” He responded making her laugh so hard she clutched his shoulder as he joined in her laughter.

“We should probably join in the festivities” she said, looking around to see if anyone was lingering too close to hear their conversation. He leaned in, as if he was going to tell her a secret.

“I would much rather stay here and talk about making babies with you…” he purred in her ear and she pushed him away slightly.

“Sebastian!” She exclaimed, noting the way her reaction only spurred him on further as he dipped his head back in laughter.

“I didn’t know you were such a prude” he said, drawing her to stand from her seated position on the wall. Sebastian carefully escorted her to where the hamlet were still dancing in the late hours of the evening in the grass. As he pulled her close, one hand resting on her waist, and the other holding her hand, he noticed the slight pout she had on her face.

“I am not a prude…” she mumbled as she allowed him to slowly start moving about in small circles while holding her.

“Could have fooled me” he responded, noticing the way her eyes quickly darted around to see if anyone around them was watching before she leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder. She sighed before she tipped her chin towards his ear: “talking about your desire for future children, and discussing the act of making them are two very different conversations” she purred.

Sebastian’s hand on her waist tightened, holding her closer to his body. In fact, he was slowly beginning to feel the beat of her heart through the fabric of his undershirt, his own sweater, and jacket. Not to mention the layers she was wearing… He felt the need to pull her close despite the fact he was warming up along every inch of his body. He barely recognized that a very light snow was beginning to fall because how hot he suddenly found himself. The only reason he noticed was seeing the way small flakes began to get caught in her hair, and he imagined he looked similar.

“Could you see yourself entertaining…” he trailed off as he noticed Anne and Ominis standing a few feet away. Ominis was holding her hand as Anne was beaming at himself and the girl. He looked back down at the girl in his arms, “can we pick this conversation back up later?” he asked her. She nodded as they continued their simple dancing to the slow song of the band. Every so often Sebastian would lift her arm, twisting her gracefully, before returning her to their pose. He was by no means a wonderful dancer, but he seemed to understand a simple box step, and that’s all she needed. It however, warm her heart to be dancing again after so long. It wasn’t long however before the song came to an end.

Throughout the evening the pair had heard the almost continuous sound of instrumental music playing, so the sudden silence that permeated the air was mildly jarring. As she lifted her head to see if the band was retiring for the evening, she was surprised to meet Anne’s mischievous expression.

Ominis stood near the band, conversing with some of the men as Anne attempted to drag the girl from Sebastian’s arms. He let out a sigh as he tightened his arm around her a little confused why his twin was attempting to get the girls attention so intently.

“Anne is something wrong?” She asked, slightly concerned as to why the girl was attempting to remove her with the degree of effort she was aiming to use. Anne shook her head, finally successful in unraveling the couple.

Before Sebastian could question what was happening, Anne whisked her away and Ominis quickly came to drag Sebastian off in the opposite direction without a word. “Ominis, what the hell?” He asked annoyed as his friend simply shook his head no, a small smile stretched across his lips. Whatever Anne was planning must not be too terrible if Ominis was going along with it.

Sebastian found himself suddenly off to the side of the area everyone had been dancing, with the two young siblings from next door, as Ominis left them to join some of the adults of Feldcroft. Sebastian was extremely confused what they were doing, as many of them started talking amongst themselves and using their wands to start conjuring a small wooden platform on the ground. A proper dance space replaced the uneven ground. But why now?

It wasn’t long before he found an answer to all his questions in the form of Bernard Ndiaye coming forward. The members of the hamlet all stood to the side of the platform, allowing the shopkeeper to cross the small stage, to make an announcement.

“It appears that we had a dancer in our midst and didn’t even know it. After speaking with young Anne Sallow, this year’s newest addition has agreed to showcase a muggle tradition I hear is very popular this time of year.” Ndiaye spoke briefly before quickly standing to the side.

Sebastian recognized the sounds of Tchaikovsky, as his mother had adored the composers work. Every year around this time they would all make their way into the muggle portions of London just to watch the ballet for his mothers sake. Sebastian had almost forgotten about it, but Anne seemed to have remembered. It had been years since they had be able to watch a performance.

Looking around he was surprised to find Anne back at his side as she carefully wrapped her slender arm around his own, lightly squeezing his bicep. Sebastian looked to see if she had returned with his twin but was disappointed seeing she returned alone. Before he could question Anne as to where his love had wandered off to he immediately felt his knees almost give out.

In the corner of the small wooden platform there she stood. She must have used some sort of transfiguration charm to change her long green dress, as she now was a vision in soft lavender. Her delicate arms, exposed to the cool air, as only thin straps held up the bodice around her breasts and abdomen. At her waist soft lace and tule flared, just barely covering her most intimate areas. Sebastian couldn’t stop his wandering eyes from noticing how the thin tights she wore clung to her soft but muscular legs, especially given how much of them were displayed before him. Atop her head rested a small diadem, shining in the moonlight.

She had pulled her hair back into a small bun, leaving her nape exposed. Sebastian was struck so suddenly by how his mind l seemingly split into both thoughts of how downright ethereal she looked and how incredibly sexy she was. He was both smitten and feeling himself with growing arousals at how delicate yet strong she looked.

As the band softly played transitional music, she lifted her gaze to Anne, giving her a shy smile, before taking a deep breath. She refused to let her gaze wander to Sebastian, for fear she may loose her nerves if she saw his eyes on her. She nodded to the few men with instruments that they could begin and she closed her eyes, attempting to remember the steps she had all but memorized from her years partaking in the muggle study of ballet.

The opening notes of dance of the sugar plum fairy started and she was off. The playful melody of the Russian composer, although missing some of the instruments a full orchestra would have, filled the air. Almost as if riding a horse, the steps immediately came flooding back to her memory as she gracefully moved about the small stage on her toes, arms extended.

She tried her best to not think of how much the movements were causing her abdomen to ache with pain or her lugs burn. After mentioning to Anne in Hogsmeade that she had studied ballet for years, the girl had all but pleaded on her knees to see at least some part of The Nutcracker, as it was their mothers favorite. She conceded knowing it would lift the girls spirits, however she had not known the full extent to which she had been roped into until the girl had escorted her away from Sebastian.

Sebastian watched her earnestly as she moved about the space with the same grace she used when she dueled. He had been right in his assumption she did in fact know how to dance, as here she stood, body moving with such a lovely flow it replicated that of a stream. Her movements both soft and delicate, yet poised and full of strength. The way the stars and the falling snow framed her feminine form. The way the moonlight and firelight made the diadem and crystals on her bodice sparkle replicated that of a princess. Her soft smile at the confidence in her movements. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt a small handkerchief being thrust into his hands. He didn’t even look down to see that Ominis’s outstretched hand had been holding his own pocket square, as he refused to tear his eyes away from her for even a second. The world could come crashing down around them and he still would not be able to look away from the delicate creature in front of him. He half wondered if she was part nymph or siren, as the way she moved her body enticed him in ways he ought not know to be possible.

It wasn’t long before the band began to quicken their pace, with her rapidly increasing her tempo as well. She began moving about in such fast twirls, constantly upon her toes, matching the musicality. She was like a flurry of snow, twisting her body with such speed and skill. As fast as the dance had started, they quickly drew their instruments to the close, as she stopped, drawing her arms into an outstretched pose to conclude the dance.

As the people of Feldcroft began to cheer for her, clapping loudly, she began searching the crowds for Sebastian. With all the townspeople and snow picking up its pace, it was difficult to see where he had gotten off to. As she drew herself into a soft bow she saw a single white rose land in front of her. She quickly drew it into her hand before slowly making her way off the wood floor.

She barely heard Bernard speaking to the hamlet as she made her way to the left side of the stage. The people around her parted, allowing a direct path towards Sebastian. As she got closer she saw the soft glistening of tears in his eyes and on his face.

Sebastian felt like he was watching an angel make its way from heaven, down to him as she took soft steps towards him. He was thankful his neighbors had respected them enough to separate, making her journey easier. He hadn’t even attempted to brush the tears from his eyes, proudly wearing them as she deserved to know what a lovely reaction her talent had brought out in him.

When she had finished, he had found himself transforming the handkerchief in his hands into a single rose, tossing it at her feet the same way that he’d seen muggles do in London. When he found her situated directly in front of him, beaming up into his eyes, he didn’t care who was around them. The young siblings next door, his own sister, the townspeople, hell even Solomon: they were all irrelevant to this beautiful angel. His beautiful angel.

She softly brushed the tears off his face as he smiled, a few more continuing to slip out. The girl laughed softly, not in jest, but in elation at how much love was pouring from his eyes.

Sebastian brought his hand up, to firmly hold hers against his face as he ground himself in the moment. A selfish part of him never wanted this wonderful day to end.

It wasn’t long before the chilling Scottish air made itself known again, as she shivered against him, given how much of her body was exposed. He quickly unwrapped her arms, sliding off his jacket, before gently laying it around her shoulders.

“You must be freezing, sorry I didn’t think of that” he whispered out. The town around them had resumed dancing, wandering off to let the young adults converse as they pleased.

She brushed off his comment, but pulled the jacket tighter around her body. She looked back up at him, eyes still shining with amazement. He took the rose that had been held in her hand, placing it behind her ear. His fingers trailed down her cheek and jaw before his hand plant itself against the side of her neck. Sebastian softly pulled her into his tall frame, as his other hand came to rest on her bent elbow. They continued to softly sway as he held her head close to his chest, and she let her arms stay wrapped around his waist.

“I don’t think I have ever been happier in my entire life” he softly hummed out. She tightened her grip on his lower back, softly inhaling his woody scent.

“Me either” she replied, unable to fill her senses with enough of Sebastian Sallow as they softly turned in the moonlight. She wanted more. She didn’t care that her legs were freezing or ballet slippers were terrible shoes to walk in. She simply wanted to bottle up this feeling and keep it close to her heart forever.

As another song started up they heard a throat being cleared not far from them. She lifted her head from its place over his heart as Sebastian noticed Solomon standing near by, his expression unreadable.

“It is getting late. I think it is time you all retire.” He spoke firmly, but didn’t comment on how they were dancing nor her costume.

Sebastian only nodded, before spinning her around to head back towards their tent. Anne and Ominis were already back inside when they arrived. Immediately upon entering Anne jumped the girl.

“Oh Merlin! That was so amazing! Thank you so much, it truly meant so much to be able to experience one of our old traditions. You are so talented.” Anne blabbered on as she continued a string of “you’re welcome” and “thank you” in response to all she kept saying.

Sebastian leaned against the support beam for the main room watching as the girl demonstrated some of the poses for Anne. She shrugged his jacket off inside the tents warmth, thanks to Ominis having started the fire. Once again he found himself staring at the lovely lines her legs were creating as she lifted her weight onto one foot, and moved her other leg to the height of her waist with ease. When she lifted her arms, the skirt also raised, giving him a very open view of her tight and bloomer clad rear. What he would give to always have her in such attire.

She turned around after demonstrating to Anne some of the basics she had come to know, and when she did she noted the down-right sinful look in Sebastian’s eyes. She moved to grab his coat off the cushions from when she had set it down, while Anne sat next to Ominis by the fire. When she approached him, she noticed a small plant extending down from the support beam, to rest just over his head. Mistletoe.

Sebastian looked up at the small plant he was conjuring with the wand at his side. He knew the tradition would make her laugh, and when she caught sight of it she grew slightly pink knowing what he wanted from her.

The boy drew her close, pulling her under the small white bulbs with him. The devilish grin upon his face making her grow even warmer. He pulled the jacket from her hands, letting it fall to the floor with no regard for how it crumpled, before wrapping his other arm around her waist.

“Your opinions on mistletoe m’lady?” He asked, staring intently into her eyes.

“I suppose it is a fun tradition, although if you wanted a kiss, you need not ask”

Sebastian needed no further encouragement, pulling her waist directly into contact with his. Her eyes grew wide at realizing his manhood was pressing into her clothed center, but as his lips made contact with hers, they fluttered shut. His other hand planted on the small of her back, and both of hers finding place on his shoulders. He playfully lowered her weight, as he dipped her forward while continued kissing her. She sighed into his mouth as when he lowered them both, his weight pressed into her most sensitive area even more than it had when he pulled her against his body.

Sebastian returned her to her feet reluctantly, pulling his mouth from hers to give a small kiss to her cheek before nuzzling his nose to the side of her face.

“Have I succeeded in sweeping you off your feet darling?” He teased and she shivered as his long eyelashes tickled her cheek. She nodded, holding him close, breathing in his scent.

“You two are appalling.” Anne said while standing, breaking up their moment as she reaching a hand out for Ominis. The pair migrated towards the boys side of the tent together.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Sebastian asked, playfully taunting his sister.

“To sleep” she said, continuing to pull the blushing blond with her.

“Mhm… and I am the appalling one” he responded sarcastically as she rolled her eyes, sliding into the privacy of the other room. Ominis gave a shy wave before following her.

“You know if it were anyone other than Ominis I’d ring their neck” he playfully chuckled watching his best friends shy allowance of his twins rule breaking.

She scoffed “Please, as if you are much better in that arena Mr. Sallow” as she poked a finger into his chest playfully.

Sebastian stiffened at her words, grabbing her hand as he pulled her backwards into the privacy of the other room. As soon as the curtain gave way he cast a simple silencing charm, throwing his wand to the side.

He lowered his mouth to her ear, lightly nipping it. “Say that again” he all but growled against her skin.

“Say what again?” She asked playfully as his hands found their way under the many layers of tule, fingers splayed across her lower cheeks.

“You know what” he said, feeling his self control starting to waiver as the events of the last few days were building. Their stolen kisses, almost watching her die, sharing a sensual bath, waking up next to her, her body on display during the dance and their conversations on a future. It all felt too much, as if he’d wake up and it all had been a dream. Sebastian needed the chance to prove he was worthy of their lofty expectations for the future, that he was worthy of her love and adoration. That he could be the man she deserved. Someone who could take care of her, provide for her, protect her and give her the life she deserved.

“Only if you answer me this” she said, trailing off as he caressed her skin through the tights. He mumbled out what she assumed was “sure” against her neck as he continued to kiss and suck lightly on the delicate skin exposed but her bun.

They were playing with fire and she knew it. She just hoped that when it was all said and done neither of them wound up burned.

“Would you like to resume our conversation from earlier now that we are alone?” She tried to keep her voice as sultry as possible but finding it difficult with the wonderful way he mapped out the skin of her neck and shoulders with his lips while his fingers traced her lower regions.

“While I would love to have that conversation, I don’t particularly feel like talking right now, do you…” he huskily whispered into her neck making her shudder.

She shook her head at his words as he carefully walked the both of them backwards towards the bed. When her legs made contact with the edge of the mattress, he gently helped her sit at the edge before lowering himself to the floor in front of her.

She raised a tentative eyebrow at him as he sat on his knees in front of her. In his mind, she looked downright ethereal, still in the beaded costume, head covered in jewels.

Sebastian carefully brought his chin to rest just above her knee, looking up at her through his eyelashes as she curled a hand into his hair.

Lowering his hands, he slowly began to unravel her ballet slippers off each foot, carefully tracing his finger up her leg as he did so. She felt a deep warmth spread about her at his soft traces, as the tights were not thick.

He placed soft kisses on the skin of her thigh as he whispered against her skin. “My Angel… goddess divine…” she heard against her legs as she continued to pour his love into her.

Sebastian looked up into her eyes again as he tried to find an ounce of his slipping self control. Her fingers still wound in his tresses and her soft gaze upon him as he laid more gentle kisses upon her skin. “Aphrodite herself” he said with a groan.

Let me worship you.

She was caught off guard at his words but he continued to plead with her. Sebastian shook her hand from his hair, rising as much as he could while still on his knees for her. He held her hand close to his heart, eyes imploring hers as his body softly shook in anticipation. Sebastian hoped she could feel the way his heart beat against her fingers. The way it beat for her.

Let me show you all the praise you deserve, my goddess. Please I beg you.

She couldn’t help but feel herself giving in, as seeing him beg on his knees for her was something she never thought possible. What happened to the proud Slytherin boy she met her first day Hogwarts who taunted her in class? He had wound his way into her very soul, loosing the arrogance that plagued him, now ready to be whatever she needed, as she graciously returned the same sentiments. She softly nodded, bringing his face up as she tipped his chin forward to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

Every moment they spent alone plagued with teasing and playful comments built into a strong sense of longing, only being held back by external rules of propriety. As he moved his mouth against hers that first time, cracks began to form. Now in the privacy on Christmas Eve, That’s when the damn finally broke.

Sebastian carefully pulled himself from the floor, helping her rise gently to her feet as he softly turned her around. His fingers lightly brushed against her corsets strings while his lips continued to softly press kisses and sweet words of praise along her shoulders.

My beautiful angel…

Most beautiful part of this world…

His movements were careful as he slowly unraveled the soft lace from her skin. As it became loose he slowly allowed the material to fall to the floor. She remained unclothed from the waist up, only bloomers and tights covering her lower half.

She turned to face him in the dim light, seeing the adoration in his chocolate eyes as she slowly slid her hands under his sweater, pulling it up his torso. Sebastian allowed her to carefully slip it off his body before she did the same for his undershirt. When his chest finally was exposed again she couldn’t help but lightly whimper at seeing his soft flesh, and he quickly pulled her back into his towering frame.

His left hand held the juncture between her jaw and neck, fingers softly tracing the skin he found there. Sebastian carefully lifted her face up to his own as her trembling fingers wound there way into his hair once again. With her pressed into him, he could feel her hardened nipples against the planes of chest, loving the way their skin to skin contact created a fire in his stomach.

His other hand slipped lower, find purchase along her waistband, toying with it as he kissed her gently. As he did so, her fingers continued weaving in and out of his hair, and it wasn’t long before he ran a testing swipe along her bottom lip with his tongue. Sebastian couldn’t help but groan when she opened for him, letting their kisses to deepen as their tongues carefully danced together. It wasn’t long before she was pulling away, feeling breathless at their actions.

Taking the opportunity of their pause in kisses, he gripped the band of her remaining clothing, and slowly lowered himself to the floor as he slid the material from her body, undergarments coming with it. He did so carefully, afraid she would snap to her senses and stop him. Sebastian was surprised when her bloomers touched the floor, and he found himself once again on his knees, this time directly in front of her naked form. His found himself carefully helping her step out of the clothes, tossing them into the unknown as he caressed her calf as he once again lifted his gaze.

When the cool air exposed her womanhood she quickly sought to cover herself not just from the cold but his gaze, as his eyes were only a few inches away from her most sensitive area.

She should have ran, should have stopped his advances, but truly there was no reservation within her that he did not already own every fiber of her being. He had her from the moment she met his mischievous gaze, beside the fireplace that day seemingly so long ago. They were destined to remain with one another, a very conviction they both seemed to understand. These physical acts were merely a way at demonstrating their devotion to one another. Damn the rules, they both broke every rules around them always. What’s one more in the name of such a love?

He carefully laid his cheek along her stomach, her hands preventing him from closing the gap between his face and her womanhood. As he gazed up at her, eyes darker than she thought imaginable, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he planned to do. He seemed to be allowing her to guide him to whatever boundary she desired. And while she was enticed seeing him still at her feet in such a manor, she was taking her time to become comfortable giving herself to him.

Being so close to her heat, Sebastian could smell her arousal, and it was slowly feeding his own. From the moment he’d spoken with her that evening along the wall, about a future together, he had maintained a slight strain in his briefs. When she had danced before him, that feeling grew more intense. Now having her looking down upon her, unclothed, still wearing that semi-ridiculous crown he felt the intensity of his own erection threatening to burst out. He wanted to see her, feel her, and even though it was vulgar he wanted to taste her.

Sebastian allowed her to take her time. He simply laid his head against her, continuing to breathe her in as she grew comfortable with the image of him half nude on his knees in front of her. His fingers wound around to her backside, slowly tracing patterns on her soft curves. If she was paying attention she would have realized those patterns weren’t aimless, as he traced the word “mine” into the skin of her ass.

Eventually she unwound one hand from guarding her sacredness. She carefully brought her fingers into his hair, hoping to calm the storm raging inside. He groaned against her, as her nails scraped along his scalp. Sebastian continued looking into her eyes, and without even having to say the words he felt their soft exchange through their expressions.

“Please allow me to make you feel good” his eyes plead

“I trust you” hers responded as she let go, allowing him to finally see her up close.

He nearly lost his composure seeing such forbidden fruit right before his eyes. Ever so carefully he moved a hand to lightly trace the skin of her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat as he continued the slow torture of quiet gasps and soft touches.

Dragging his gaze back up to her, he carefully whispered out, “so beautiful” with a choked sob before he placed his lips on her.

Her hips bucked involuntarily at the feeling of his warm mouth against her lower curls. Slowly sliding her legs apart, he shifted between them to lick a testing stripe along her slit. As he did so, her slick arousal coated his tongue and he found himself moaning into her womanhood at the taste.

While he initially was gentle, after one small sip, he dived into her, lapping as if he was a man wandering the desert. She felt herself slowly trembling at the ministrations of his tongue on her sex, legs going weak. If his strong arms weren’t holding her upright she surely would’ve fallen over.

He continued to use his mouth on her in any way possible. He licked along her entrance and tasted every drop she provided for him. When his tongue finally found her pearl he brought his lips around it, lightly sucking on her clitorus as she cried out, hands tightening into his hair, pulling his face closer to her heat.

At her involuntary reaction he groaned around her, the vibrations becoming too much for her to bear. She looked down at him one last time before falling over an edge she didn’t even know she was standing upon. As she did so, her legs buckled and he did his best to keep her upright as his tongue continued to prod her entrance through her orgasm. Her unintentional aggression towards him , paired with the sounds she made, was enough to send him barreling after her. His cock twitched inside his trousers as he coated his underwear with his own seed. When she finally came down he softly lowered her onto the bed, dropping his head to her lap as he pulled back.

When she stopped seeing the stars she looked down at him. With red cheeks and her arousal coating his mouth and chin he looked absolutely divine. He smiled at her, carefully dragging a finger around to collect her own wetness from her now swollen opening before placing it in his mouth. Licking the remains from his lips, he sighed.

“You taste heavenly” he told her as she carefully brushed a weary hand through his curls.

She blushed at his words, feeling the need to cover herself, but she restrained realizing if he was willing to do such an act there’s no reason to cover now.

“I may require guidance to return the favor” she said shyly, gesturing in the darkness towards him. Sebastian laughed against her skin enjoying the way her fingers lovingly toyed with his hair. Of all the ways he had felt her deft fingers in his locks, this moment was now his favorite.

“That won’t be necessary love” he said with a chuckle, turning his face to kiss her other wrist.

“Of course it is… I understand that there’s a give and a take to these matters…” she tried to explain but he shook his head, before slowly standing.

Ever so carefully he lifted her wrist to place a delicate hand over the wet spot on his trousers. Her face went from confusion to recognition as she felt his cum through the material. Oh.

“But… how..?” She asked, realizing she hadn’t even touched him directly. Sebastian shrugged before he leaned in closer to her.

“I really enjoyed making you feel good I suppose” he spoke as he looked into her eyes. For a brief second he swore he could see hearts in them as she sighed.

Carefully she lifted a hand to cup his cheek before she responded “you beautiful, selfless, man”

He let out a soft chuckle at her kind words, his nose carefully caressing her own lovingly as he nuzzled her soft skin. Sebastian gave her a gentle peck before pulling the both of them down to lay down on the bed. She found herself smiling at the unique lingering taste of her on his lips as he kissed her slowly.

After a few moments basking in the afterglow together, he rose to his elbow to gaze down at her. He carefully brushed a hand over the few strands of hair escaping her slowly slipping bun before sliding off the bed. He knew if he was to sleep in the same bed as her, he should have the decency to change his briefs since sleeping in the nude may be too much of a line to cross now.

Carefully he slipped out of their half of the tent, making his way over to where his belongings were on the other side. As he approached the room he knew contained his sister and his oldest friend he worried about barging in unannounced, but also felt awkward about raising his voice in case they were asleep.

When he found himself directly in front of the flap he was met with the relieving sound of their hushed whispers. Unable to prevent himself from ease dropping he listened to their quiet voices for a moment.

“I can’t believe he transformed my good pocket square into a flower” Ominis chuckled softly and Sebastian remembered that he had in fact ruined his friends possession.

“I will make sure he replaces it, I promise” he heard his sister respond with a sigh.

There was a beat of silence and Sebastian found himself almost taking that as a good opportunity to announce himself but he stopped at Ominis’s voice.

“Was Sebastian really weeping during the ballet?” He asked, no malice in his tone, merely curiousity.

“I wouldn’t call it weeping… more like tears of joy perhaps… like being moved to such extremes in the face of something beautiful. Like how a man may cry at the birth of his child.” Anne explained, and Sebastian found himself thankful his sister attempted to explain what she observed in a way that would exonerate him of being weak.

“That is surprising. I never imagined Sebastian of all people to feel such adoration for another… not that I see him as incapable of those feelings, its just…” Ominis trailed off unsure how to explain his thoughts on the matter, worried he would say something to upset Anne on the status of her Twin’s love affair.

“I think I understand what you mean… the intensity to which it is apparent they feel for each other is shocking I suppose. It reminds me of our parents in a way” Anne replied taking his hand into her own, fingers carefully tracing the callouses on his palm from constantly holding his wand to guide him.

Sebastian felt himself surprised knowing his twin saw the same love his parents held for each other in his own feelings towards the new 5th year. It made him feel as if they’d be proud of him.

“Do you think they will… move forward with things in the near future?” Ominis asked cautiously.

“Perhaps” Anne replied, pondering what Ominis was asking. They had both heard his confession the day outside with Solomon, and had witness their share of moments where even the blind boy could practically see the love rolling off the pair.

“I selfish part of me hopes they do” Anne spoke softly into her lap as Ominis raised a questioning brow at her, confused why she wanted her brother to move forward with such adult acts like engagements and marriage.

Sebastian also found himself leaning closer, curious. Anne felt her eyes blur a bit as she carefully swallowed a small lump in her throat before continuing.

“I don’t know how much time I have left… I want to…” she stopped for a moment to collect herself before she kept going. “I need to know Sebs is going to be happy. That he will have someone there for him when I am gone.”

“Don’t say that Annabel-“ Ominis found himself using her full name, not liking her train of thought. He didn’t like acknowledging her curse, same as the rest of their party, but knowing he may only have limited time with her was a painful reminder.

“I believe in their ability. I know if anyone can find a cure it is the two of them. But if they cannot… I just want the chance to see them both devote their lives to one another.” Anne said in a hushed tone. Sebastian felt a weight in his heart, having not realized that his sisters condition could lead to a place in which a vacancy existed during his important life moments.

Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from pushing back the flap of the tent, eyes glassed with tears as he startled the pair. Anne sat up, wand ready as she recognized her twin’s face in the darkness.

Sebastian rushed forward, forgetting the reason he was in there to begin with, forgetting the love of his life was waiting for him. Ignoring Ominis sitting to the right of them. As he brought Anne into his chest he heard her soft cries as she wound her arms around them. They had tried their best to ignore the direness of her illness for so long, to acknowledge it now felt frightening.

When she quickly recovered he found himself softly whispering into her hair “I promise you will be there to see that.” At his words she looked up at him, slightly grimly. For a moment she thought he was referring to his never ending search to find a cure.

“Sebs… I am not sure there is a cur-“ she began but he cut her off.

“I am not talking about finding a cure Anne.” He spoke defiantly.

Anne realized that he was confirming he would make sure to wed if she became worse off.

“You don’t have to… I don’t expect you to rush into a commitment like that on my behalf.” She worried that she may push the pair together faster at her declining health.

“Anne… I would marry her tomorrow if I could figure out the logistics. But I would do so in a heartbeat to make sure you can be there.” He said and she found herself nodding. Sebastian let his sister go, navigating towards his bag he brought back from school.

He was worried that she would begin to worry at his absence, and didn’t want his sister realizing there was still a mess in his trousers…

“It’s Christmas. Let’s just try to focus on being together, and we can figure out the rest tomorrow, a’right?” He asked, collecting some clothes, before lingering by the entrance.

Anne nodded, returning to Ominis’s side. Sebastian watched as his friend cautiously lifted a hand to place it on his sisters. He smiled, realizing they too were operating on possible limited time.

“Take care of her Ominis.” He said, giving his friend the permission the Gaunt boy had been struggling to ask for since he grew attached to the girl.

Sebastian didn’t need to hear the boys reply, so he merely stepped back and snuffed out the fire in the main room.

When he returned, he found his love laying on her side, curled up along the foot of the bed. Shrugging his pants and briefs off he carefully used a wet cloth to wash himself before sliding on fresh underclothes. Bringing the same cloth, he carefully turned her over enough to help wash away the mess on her womanhood.

As he did so, she carefully cracked an eye open. She slid her legs open more as he continued to clean her to the best of his ability before dropping the cloth to the floor. She sleepily leaned up as he undid the pins holding the diadem to her head, carefully placing it on the floor, before helping her to let down her hair.

As it tumbled free, covering her shoulders and breasts he sighed. He was always surprised how she continued to look more and more beautiful in his eyes.

Sebastian helped lift her sleepy arms up enough to work the sleep shirt he brought onto her form. He figured that she’d be comfortable in his clothes, as his size would turn a simple shirt into a dress on her small body. As he slid it over her, she smiled, feeling enveloped in his earthy smell.

Ever so carefully he helped her slide under the covers, so she would easily be able to slip back into her slumber. Joining her, he brought an arm up to pull her against his body. When she snuggled backwards into him he smiled, thinking about his conversation with Anne. That night he found sleep difficult as he pondered the logistics of addressing the topic.

As he finally drifted off to sleep, he decided his best course of action to be a lengthy conversation with Solomon, and for once he wasn’t concerned about the outcome…

To be continued…

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow/reader #ominis gaunt #fluff #anne sallow #ominis x anne #smut

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onwesterlywinds · 1 month ago

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Livvy's #FFXIVWrite2024 Wrap-Up Post

Hi all - we did it! Whether you wrote all thirty days, are still catching up, won't be writing all the prompts or were just spectating this year... we made it through September!

As always, I have to kick things off with a massive thanks to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for creating this incredible event and keeping it running every year. This is by far my favorite XIV event because it's such an incredible showcase of the talent and love we all pour into our own (and each other's!) work, and it couldn't be possible with Moen's absolutely massive investment of time and energy.

This was my SIXTH consecutive year completing #FFXIVWrite! Last year, I learned my lesson about not tempting fate by invoking all the previous life crises I had weathered each September that absolutely would not inhibit me from writing (and I lied in last year's recap, everything was absolutely not fine). This year, in lieu of breaking out the thirty pieces I posted across twenty different characters, I'm going to share some things I've learned this year about myself, my writing, and/or my characters:

I wrote some of my absolute favorite bits with five or fewer minutes until the deadline. Whatever lesson I learn from this will be the wrong one.

Ashe and Rosenheim tied for the highest number of prompts: they each came in at four this year. Rosenheim has historically been a really tricky character to write, because he's so stoic and introspective... but I think I was feeling the sad man hours this year. Ahtyn came in just below them at three prompts.

Ashe and Ilberd canonically fucked during 2.1 (before she and Edge got serious). (I already knew they had canonically fucked pre-2.0, but this new information is extremely important to me. I love my favorite war criminal.)

Ahtyn canonically crossfades.

Ahtyn is also working through some intense and complicated feelings about her legacy post-Endwalker. Getting to develop a new side of her character has been an incredible and unexpected gift.

I try not to track collective word counts for this challenge because I tend to put myself under way too much pressure when I do, and because I like the freedom of going back and editing some pieces after the fact, but I can tell regardless that I've written way more this year than in any year before: I've had more pieces with 1k+ words this time around than any other year previously!

My #FFXIVWrite pieces for this year can be found here! I'm thinking of posting some of them on AO3, so stay tuned for more info!

Thank you to all the wonderful friends who cheered me on, read my stuff religiously, offered thoughts or inspiration, and/or were even more excited about the prospect of an Ashe/Edge/Hien threesome than I was. It made a massive difference, this year and all years. ✨

I'm hoping to use this blog more often outside of September - stay tuned!

And if you're still reading this, if you participated this year, this is a direct invitation for you to send me a piece you've written this year that you're especially proud of. Yes, you!

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2024

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elvenbeard · 1 year ago

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I was at Phantom Liberty Tour Cologne and this is how it went!

Img: A screen showing Johnny Silverhand with tickets to the Phantom Liberty Tour Cologne and the title "Phantom Liberty Tour - 25. August 2023 Köln"

The following is 100% an expression of my personal views! I experienced the Phantom Liberty Tour event in Cologne as overall extremely positive, I had been very hyped about it in the weeks and days before, and CDPR did not disappoint me in any way shape or form with what they put together! For transparency, I didn’t have to pay for anything beyond my own travel costs and accommodation, everything else was included solely in my application for the event being accepted.

This post is intended as a way to give a glimpse into the experience to everyone who couldn’t go or whose application wasn’t accepted -and I just wanted to share my thoughts xD It was a very small and exclusive event with very limited tickets, and I still feel super priviliged to have been able to go there. I’m aiming to share my experience with everyone reading this now and give you at least a little peek behind the scenes of it all!

We didn’t have to sign any NDAs or such, we only weren’t allowed to take pics/videos or make audio recordings of the showcased gameplay!

If you’re also going to one of the upcoming events in your respective countries, maybe wait reading this until you’ve been there to not ruin any potential surprises! And also, if you don’t wanna be spoilered about anything Phantom Liberty as such, meaning, the actual game and story, but still wanna know about what the event was like: I will put a warning onto sections that contain spoilers for the gameplay, so you can skip those!

How me and my sibling even got invited in the first place

I only learned about this event more or less on accident when my sibling sent me a screenshot of an Instagram post about it XD So, big props to them for giving us both this chance! XD That was back in May, the post said “tell us why we should invite you to the PL tour in Cologne” in its sign-up form. I did, and then waited patiently to maybe hear back from them. Originally, after sending my submission, I received a reply saying that “if you’re invited, we (CDPR organizer team) will get back to you until August 4th “. In my submission I wrote something along the lines of that I’m relatively new to the game and fandom, but it quickly evolved into my new favourite video game and unlocked so much creativity for me, so that I’m making my own mods for it now, create art, and write. My sibling was a fan of the first hour, preordered the Collector’s Edition for PS4 back then, and now we can both simultaneously get hyped for Phantom Liberty. It would be an amazing opportunity if we could also attend this event together!

When I hadn’t heard back by then I accepted that I hadn’t been selected, was a bit sad, but it was alright. But then, a few days later while I was at work, I got an email with the headline “Hey Choomba” and I was like wtf? So, turns out, due to the insane amount of submissions they pushed back the notification day about a week. Around 1,500 people sent applications that the organizers all looked at individually, and only around 250 guests plus team members and special guests were actually present that night. I didn’t know about the delay in response, because I’m not active on social media beyond Tumblr… lemme tell you though, that was such a nice surprise, and I was super happy and would’ve been none the wiser had I not been picked xD

Due to the shorter timeframe though it was now a little harder to find a hotel still, as the PL Tour took place during Gamescom week. So, half of Gaming Europe was already in Cologne for that convention and hotels were scarce. On the one hand, it obviously made sense they put the date this weekend, so the devs already in Cologne anyway could swing by with ease. On the other hand, if you were, like me, definitely not from Cologne or the general area, a little more prep time ahead would’ve been nice.

Still though, my sibling and I still found a somewhat reasonable hotel and drove to Cologne in the early morning hours of August 25th!

Img: The door to the venue with a bright red "Phantom Liberty Tour" banner above the entrance

(cont. below the cut, long post with many pics, beware!)

The Venue, the Queue, the Delay, the Tickets

The sole information we had in advance was an address, to bring our ID cards as they’d make sure we are on the guest list and are 18+ years old. The event would start at 6pm and last until 12am. It said that "cosplays are very much appreciated" so I went in casual cosplay as Vince, because why the hell not XD But that was it in terms of what we knew about what was going to happen.

At around 5.20 p.m. we were at the location given to us via E-Mail. Parking was eh, but alright, we found a space close by, and as we drove past the venue, they were just in process of setting up their flag and banner. So yay, we’re in the right place! :D

Img: The black CDPR flag above the entrance :3

I was so fucking hyped, I couldn’t last in the car a second longer, so we just joined the queue and waited despite the occasional rain shower. We got talking a little bit with the people around us, there were some fellow modders, everyone was wearing some kind of merch, there were lots of fantastic cosplayers, too! Miles Tost, CDPR level design, was there and briefly talked to us all waiting patiently. Then we were informed that sadly there would be a little bit of a delay. I think at around 6.30 or so the queue finally started moving and at around 7 my sibling and I were inside the venue :D The reason of the delay is and was unclear, we learned later though that the guy responsible for the organization had set up something like this for the first time iirc, and therefore I’ll happily forgive the slight delay. Overall, the night was fantastic and I sure as hell couldn’t have done it better!

After checking our IDs, the lovely people by the entrance handed us our numbered tickets! One of the staff then asked us if we’d already played Phantom Liberty at Gamescom, which we hadn’t, so we also received one of those yellow plastic throwaway bracelets. Those who had already played it got a red one. The reasoning here was that they only had a small play area upstairs, so not everyone would be getting a chance to play the demo of the game, and people who hadn’t seen it yet would be preferred, to keep things fair. During the night some people with yellow bracelets would then be randomly approached by a member of the team and invited upstairs with a “mystery ticket”. I sadly didn’t get to play the game myself, neither my sibling, but we still got to see the gameplay anyway :3 We’ll get to that in a minute.

Img: Mine and my sibling's tickets, front and backside respectively; the bottom text on the backside says "be careful not to damage this section as you may still need it over the course of the night!", both tickets feature prominent circuit board and barcode designs

CDPR also invited us to free drinks with little tokens, and there was a broad selection of non-alcoholic and alcoholic beverages at a small bar! I would’ve loved for there to be something like a Johnny Silverhand or Jackie Welles to order, but I guess it wasn’t the Afterlife after all. Still though, free drinks, even if generic, pretty cool :D

Activities within the Venue

While we were queuing outside still, we’d also heard about various activities that had been offered at the Warsaw station of the tour, and those were different from what we could do in Cologne!

After receiving our tickets and everything we were free to explore the location for a bit, as the actual show wouldn’t start until 8pm (originally 7 pm but well… delays :D).

There was the main floor with a big, convention center style setup with rows of chairs and some bar tables. There was the huge screen, the bar, and a really cool netrunner chair for taking pictures that the cosplayers rightfully loved :D On the left side were also a small Xbox play area where you could test out some Xbox game pass games XD The event had tons of sponsors contributing something cool.

Img: The main area of the venue right before the show begins, an industrial-style interior with bright red and white lights, and many people looking at a big screen at the wall featuring Johnny and a welcome text in German and English respectively

Next door was a little secluded area for a podcast to be recorded later during the night, as well as a booth where visitors could record video messages for the devs (I missed my chance here and that’s what I regret most about not doing during that night ;A; but I think/hope a lot of others present seized the opportunity to send some love to Poland for this amazing game and team <3).

Img: A small square room with four high-end gaming PC stations sponsored by NVIDIA; the screens are currently showing the main menu screen of Cyberpunk 2077 - can I just take one of these home with me please?

Then there was the upstairs area with the gaming corner, as well as another little recording studio set up by an independent German filmmaker team who were documenting the development of Phantom Liberty! We could’ve also contributed to that, if we had wished to, but I preferred to stay behind the camera this time around xD Looking forward to watching the documentary though once it’s out!

Img: a Netrunner chair replica surrounded by screens and gadgets

There was also an outdoors courtyard area serving as a chillout zone with food (vegetarian options available) and a really cool live medieval folk band playing songs from the Witcher OST :D The various walls on the inside were decorated with photos showcasing German cosplayers and works of fan artists, and those of them who were there that night were allowed to take their photos home as a little extra special keepsake!

Community Love

The community love was so, so real and despite being comparatively new to the game and fandom still I felt super at home and comfortable and welcome. Kind of like, “I’m in the right place”, if that makes sense XD

Speaking of community… while we were still outside in the queue my sibling pointed out to me that there was a Kerry cosplayer in the line behind us, and lemme tell you, I was fucking hyped and made it my mission to greet them over the course of the evening xD I’ve been to a few smaller, less gaming-focused cons this year and there were few Cyberpunk cosplayers, no Kerry so far, so this was my chance!

Turns out, the Kerry in question was none other than fantastic @ophani (you can follow her on Instagram as well and check out what she’s working on atm!) who had been one of the first Cyberpunk people I’d ever followed on tumblr after becoming more involved in the fandom xD So yeah, the fanboy moment was even more real once I’d realized that. Also, there with her, amongst others, was @korribancosplay (also on Instagram!! Go check out his fantastic work <3) who actually recognized me first for being there looking sorta like Vince. He recognized that specific V with that hair and tattoos from my art xD I was like whaaaah! Honestly, that was my highlight of the night hands down in regards to meeting fellow fans :D Again, big shoutout to you two for the lovely conversation and everything, we’ll definitely stay in touch, and I hope I can venture over to NRW again in the future to meet up! xD

Img: Left, ophani as Kerry Eurodyne in his 2023 appearance <3, right, korribancosplay as Goro Takemura - I wish I'd brought a proper camera, blurry phone pics that I tried to somehow save through editing ftw :D

There were a lot of other amazing cosplayers, accompanying the two mentioned, and others as well that I didn’t all get to talk to but yeah… it was amazing seeing them all regardless and the love everyone poured into their costumes! Really got me hyped about getting back into cosplaying as well!

Let the Show Begin

But then it was finally 8pm and everyone gathered in the main showcase area.

None other than male V’s German VA Björn Schalla opened the show with a little speech (“I guess I don’t have to say who’s speaking right now”). That already sealed the deal for me in terms of “okay yeah, CDPR not playing games (figuratively), this is gonna be an amazing night if literal fucking Voice-of-V is here as a special guest”.

Then the German community managers joined for a little introduction and walkthrough of the schedule, as well as all the devs and CDPR team members present for the night came on stage to kick off the event officially with a big selfie. Shame on me for not really knowing who exactly everyone was, I’m too new and not as well versed in the who-is-who yet, but there were some very big names that people got super excited about so o.o

Img: Left, Björn Schalla aka German voice of male V, giving a little introduction speech reading out loud some randomly picked names from the guest list; right, the CDPR team and devs at the venue on stage together

Pretty much immediately afterwards, Miles Tost came back on stage, and we got to experience about an hour of gameplay of Phantom Liberty! If you don’t want spoilers for the expansion, skip the next section until the “Spoilers end here” line! I will try not to take too much away, but I want to give an honest and thorough review of what I’ve seen!

SPOILERS START HERE

The Game Showcase – Public Demo

The way this worked was, Miles stood on the front stage and narrated through the gameplay shown on the big screen, while the German community manager (iirc) Ryan played the game following a predetermined route I assume. He very strictly showed specific features, locations, and took a few very specific dialogue choices, always omitting the blue optional ones and just going with one of the generic yellow ones. The V in the demo was a male corpo, and Ryan never chose any of the plentily available Corpo dialogue options (and I’m very thankful for that, so we as players get to explore those ourselves somewhere further down the line :3).

Miles mentioned that the build shown to us was around three months old, and the first half hour of the game we saw revolved around Songbird guiding V through Dogtown prior to Myers’ plane crashing. They showed some minor NPCs running shops, the new Ripperdoc interface, and so on and so forth. I liked the new Ripperdoc animation but would’ve loved it to be even more expansive than it was in that build XD It was more a “sits down, selects cyberware to buy, then sits back up again after a short black screen, wiggles briefly then ventures forth” moment. Not comparable to the first scene with Viktor, when V gets their optics installed in the main game, but it still adds a little immersion!

V was also wearing very funky purple tights (the same level of tightness as a netrunner suit, but textured sort of like crocodile leather? I have a mighty need for them), and very sporty white sneakers that I also didn’t recognize from the main game. Everyone in the room very much loved his extravagant fashion sense XDD

So far so good, V walks through Dogtown a bit more and has some fun banter with Songbird who is not there physically, but also not quite on the phone… Then the president crashes into Dogtown kind of how it was shown in one of the trailers, and V has to go and save her, obviously, fighting Kurt Hansens forces! Up until this point of getting to and saving Myers from the wreckage was part of the publicly available demo that could also be tested at Gamescom and that I think was also showcased in recent dev streams.

The Game Showcase – Extended Demo

BUT THEN we got to a screen that said “extended demo unlocked” and got to experience some more, so far unseen content!

There was a bit of a time skip, V now traveling with President Myers and trying to get her to safety. Then we quickly got to a scene I had been kind of anxious about: V having to take an oath to become a special agent working for the NUSA. Thankfully though: you didn’t actually have to take the oath as shown in the trailer, and I was relieved, because being forced to do that that would’ve ended the expansion for my V then and there XD You still get to work for Myers though, and then V actually ventured out to find Solomon Reed! :O

We got to see quite a bit more of Dogtown, which is much bigger than I had assumed o.o Like, big buildings, proper streets, etc. etc. - not massive, but also not small! It seemed to sort of seamlessly blend into Pacifica, maybe… But in the showcase we didn’t venture far enough to the limits of the area to really be able to tell how exactly it is integrated into the world. Also, no visuals on the new Badlands areas or anything beyond this little story mission, but I think for a showcase like this that would’ve been too much! Mr. Hands called about a gig though that he maybe shouldn’t have, interrupting Miles' speech a little XD I don’t recall the exact details, but it sounded like a "SOS: Merc needed" type gig. I’m super excited about that, too, there's tons to do in this area!

They also showed the new phone interface, as well as the completely reworked skill trees, which is something @darcidarlin asked me about!

For the phone interface I’m so so thankful! It was so much bigger and organized, much easier to handle and read.

About the skill trees I’m super torn in a way… they’re different and simpler now, but sometimes simpler isn’t necessarily better imo. I’m used to my current build and skills, I like the attributes, and I don’t really see yet how my old playstyle is gonna translate into this new version. Basically, what they did (or at least how it seemed to me) was replace the attributes with "Skills". There is a "Relic" skill, an "Edgerunner" skill, and so forth, at least I saw nothing labelled "Cool", "Strength", "Tech" in the way I'm used to, but the glimpse we got was too short and superficial to really get a good idea of the new menu layout and contents.

The combat they showcased looked very fun, but it was all very centered around hands-on fighting, guns, swords, heavy cyberware. They showed very little stealth and no hacking/tech, and me being a predominantly stealth/hacking/tech player I was a bit “meh” and beginning to wonder if I’ll still have fun with what’s to come in the same way I do now. They kinda quickly flicked through the skill trees and I almost had the impression they completely remodelled Tech into a Cyberware skillset now, with armor fully tied to cyberware as well… I really don’t know XD Right now I can do a tech-heavy build without getting chromed up to my teeth, and I’d like to keep it that way… But I’m not sure if it’ll still work out like this in 2.0. Not much info on Cyberpsychosis either, only that again, with Tech perks, you can increase your threshold in terms of how much chrome V can stuff into their body before suffering an "overload". My low-on-chrome but otherwise tech-loving V is crying a little bit about this change XD

But yeah, this build was 3 months old. And my impression of the skills way waaaay to brief, so it's likely I'm getting upset about nothing XD Specifically for getting a closer look at combat and skills I would’ve needed to test the game out myself, so take everything about this with a big grain of salt!

Next up Ryan made a savegame and they showed the reworked police system a bit. Calling his vehicle in the middle of Dogtown was hilariously difficult, as it kept glitching and crashing into some parked cars the AI just didn’t seem to recognize, always ending up lying on its roof xD Miles joked “Oh no, some glitches just persist no matter what we do… but I bet your car can’t do this!”

Once Ryan had finally managed to get into his car though he started shooting. When you commit crimes in Dogtown, the NCPD will actually not come after your ass, but instead Kurt Hansen’s Barghest, which is neat! They are similarly equipped and will put up a bit of a fight for sure. There is now basically a 5-star system like I know it from GTA, and as soon as you reach 5, MaxTac will show up and whoop your ass. And man, they did not mess around XD MaxTac is not unbeatable, V put up quite the fight and managed to take down a couple of them, but in the end he got overwhelmed and taken down xD It did take a considerable amount of effort and destruction and killing though to even get to five stars, so much so that both Miles and Ryan were getting a bit desperate about it taking so long. So yeah, you really kinda have to put some actual effort into even getting MaxTac’s attention was my impression, and I do like that a lot to keep it balanced!

After this little demonstration of the police system, V went on to find Solomon Reed and damn, the first encounter with him is so fucking cool… I will not spoiler it here, because yeah. Wait and see! I really loved it, Spy-Thriller vibes over 9000, they definitely hit the mark on that XD

There is also so so so so much lovely new banter with Johnny. He was very present throughout this second part of the demo and had a lot to say on his past as a soldier, which I was really hoping for!! So, I’m definitely looking forward to seeing how deep it’s gonna get and even more so how it’s gonna end o.o

So much though to the gameplay I saw and my impression on it! There are more details I can share on request, so hmu via DM or ask if you wanna know more! There definitely were a lot of little choices in dialogues, and there seem to be a lot of choices that you can mess up that then have consequences, too :o High risk, high reward vibes, fitting for the high stakes this story seems to have.

One other random sidenote: the music is insanely beautiful o.o There was a new sort of action-packed background track for finding President Myers in Dogtown. And at the end of the demo there was another new song playing that was sort of… “dreamy, but in a dreadful way” sounding? A female vocalist, no actual lyrics, electronic music with similar vibes to the “V” main menu song, but quieter and calmer and sadder. My sibling found it annoying after a while XD But I really enjoyed it, and I kind feel like it could’ve been Songbird’s theme!

I got a question by @cheapcheapfaker about updated character models and animations that kinda fit into this section of the post! So… sadly I cannot answer it for sure because we only got to see the expansion characters and never ventured out of Dogtown (and I didn’t get to play the game myself to test out if it would’ve been possible to go and meet somebody else). What I can say is, I personally didn’t notice much of an update of Johnny’s appearance or facial animations at all actually. I know others did in regard to the same build of the game I got to see. There was no opportunity to ask, and a lot of questions that went sort of deeper into the territory of technical or story stuff, Miles wasn’t allowed to answer at that point. I think they played the game on the highest graphics settings, too, with path tracing on, which was also was something I’m not used to seeing with my rig. Johnny looked somewhat different to me actually, but not in an improved or updated way, more in a higher/different settings way.

What was confirmed during the Q&A though that followed on a different topic later (I made a post about it here already), was that they did go back and fix some voice lines in the main game that turned out weird in the German dub. And I read somewhere else before that “no system was untouched” for making Update 2.0, so maybe the other characters also received some minor updates and final polish. But nothing concrete sadly that was said or came up during my experience of the evening!

SPOILERS END HERE

Meet and Greet with German V

After the showcase of the game was over and some people had received mystery tickets to test Phantom Liberty on their own time, the crowd dispersed across the venue for a variety of activities. I tried to get into the “leave a message to the devs” booth, but it was occupied quite permanently, so I went back and then sat and waited for the Q&A, because that was super-duper down my alley, and I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it. In the podcast room next door some devs had come together to talk a bit more about the expansion as such, too, including Miles.

I had to gather all the fucking courage in my body, and I think being sorta sleep deprived and pumped full of adrenaline helped, but before the Q&A started, I went up to Björn to ask for an autograph and we very briefly talked. I got to tell him that I loved the way he played V so so much, lol XD I wasn’t very coherent, but he was very kind and funny, super chill guy!

Img: My ticket now signed "Für Elven, von 'V'" and Björn Schalla's autograph - need to get a fancy frame for it asap xD

I’m so glad that after the Q&A, of which you can find the detailed content in this separate post I made already, I went up again to get a pic done with him and Localization Director Mikolaj! :D So yes, this was definitely my personal highlight of the evening’s program, maybe even more so than seeing the new exclusive gameplay!

Img: Left, the Q&A with Björn and Mikolaj, right, Mikolaj and me and Björn XD

Raffle and Goodies

Towards the end of the night the live band that had been playing outside joined us in the main room (because, of course, the neighbors had complained about the noise… the peak Germany experience, the organizers got threatened with “we’re gonna call the cops if you continue playing music outside after 10 pm” x’D). But like this those of us who had been mostly inside watching the show at this point also got to experience the music a bit, which was very nice!

We were getting close to the end of the night already, and then people with goodie bags started walking in from all corners :O So I ventured forth once more to score one, but I think there definitely was enough for all, and at the end of this post I’m gonna show you what was inside :3

Img: Me holding my roughly letter-format sized Cyberpunk 2077 Phantom Liberty paper goodie bag :3

The last item on the agenda was called “Quiz and Raffle”, due to the delayed start of the night though they decided to skip the quiz, or rather, do a quick run of some of the questions they had prepared. It was all something like “What was the name of the character that X called to take over his shift?” or “What was the sign above the location V had to go to during X section of the gig?”, so nothing super hard. You just had to pay a little bit of attention during the game showcase. But yeah, the quiz was skipped and instead the raffle prizes were handed out a bit more freely and damn… there was a lot o.o Displate had gifted a super limited edition illuminated poster, as well as several of their tarot card metal posters. There were gaming keyboards, custom Cyberpunk themed PC cases, some leftovers from the Gear store, figurines, and so on and so forth. Some of the bigger prices were given out via random number generator, where our individual ticket numbers were important again, others were just handed out a bit more freely.

Ryan: “Damn, I have so many gaming mice left, what am I gonna do now…” Random Audience member: “Can I have one?” Ryan: “Sure! :D” *hands them a mouse*

Img: Ryan and Carolin of the German Community Management team at the end of the event with some closing words on stage

This part of the night was honestly just very lighthearted and funny, and I really felt entertained from start to finish XD There were no boring moments or situations where I was like “urgh, I wish we could just continue now” because even during the breaks I talked to people or was still recovering from a previous encounter or experience XD

The End of the Event

The event then ended pretty much on time a short while after midnight, some people had left a bit early to catch their trains, some lingered a little while longer. Lemme tell you, I didn’t wanna leave, I just wanted to move in and live with all these people forever in an amazing little Cyberpunk bubble. But I was also running on like 3 hours of sleep at that point, was extremely overwhelmed with so many positive experiences and impressions, and so we then left after taking some final snaps here and there and walking through the venue once more.

Img: The exit of the venue late at night with the Phantom Liberty Tour Banner now glowing

10/10 would go again, it was a blast, and I wouldn’t have minded for it to go on another six hours xD Not that I managed to sleep much anyway that night, because my brain was still going BRRR from all the impressions and conversations and encounters (still is to a degree right now, but I’m slowly getting calmer again xDD)

The Goodie Bag

Finally back at the hotel I got a proper look at the goodie bag!! All of this was also included in us just *being* there, like, whaaat...

Img: an overview of a variety of items featured in the goodie bag!

The goodies everyone got: a t-shirt with the Barghest logo in front and the Phantom Liberty Tour locations on the back. It was available in a lot of different sizes that you could ask for quite easily, and I hope there was one available for everyone and every body!

Img: A bright red, VERY WRINKLED t-shirt with a graffiti-style Barghest logo on its front in orange, and a white and orange print with the Phantom Liberty Tour locations on the back

The shirt is 100% cotton and made in Poland, but it smelled really really bad, coming out of a plastic bag XDD Not gonna put that on before it goes through the wash. But the quality seems very decent, and the color and print are really nice ;A; Could wear this casually under a shirt or zipper hoodie without anyone even being able to tell it’s gaming merch, and I love me a versatile piece like that!!

Then there was a Phantom Liberty themed sticker sheet with a nice rainbow holo effect :3 Some factions, some people and places, some more generic stickers. It’s very pretty and I think I might actually just frame it together with my signed ticket XD

Img: A holographic Phantom Liberty themed sticker sheet including faction and Night City logos amongst others

What I really really really loved though were these two Cologne-unique pieces: another sticker and a patch :O These seem to be 100% exclusives to the Cologne event, and I figure you can get something similar at the other events as well! Will treasure these like hell <3

Img: A blue and orange fabric patch and a holographic black and white sticker showing the same design: Phantom Tour Cologne below a stylized moth

And finally, everyone got a little mystery bag within their mystery bag, containing one of 6 keyboard cap thingies (don’t even know wtf they’re called but they’re cute XD). They were modelled after the various ingame factions, even including Barghest I believe! :O You can swap them out with any key on a mechanical gaming keyboard. I got Maelstrom, my sibling had the Mox :D So you could’ve definitely swapped with someone else for your fave faction, but I was actually quite pleased with Maelstrom :3

Img: Two small keyboard key replacer thingies... I don't know what to call them. One is red, featuring the head of a maelstromer on top, the other is blue, featuring the pink skull-head with bob haircut and bow of the Mox

So yes… that was my Phantom Liberty Tour experience! I apologize for the insanely long post, but I do hope you enjoyed reading it!

I tried to keep it somewhat concise and coherent and could definitely go more into detail about the gameplay elements we saw, the venue, the people there, and so on and so forth. So, don’t hesitate to hit me up with your questions :D And obviously, thanks so much for reading to the very end <3

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk phantom liberty #phantom liberty #phantom liberty tour #phantom liberty spoilers #elven attends phantom liberty tour posting

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