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rangers-arecool · 2 months ago

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Calm Amid the Thunder

For: Open | Ask if you’d like it specified to your muse Muse: Skiá Catanach Meme: PDR Week 4 2022 Prompt: Trust Setting: Killin, Scotland | Summer of 1995

Summer time in the small Scottish Highlands village of Killin rarely altered life for the residents who lived there all year round. Although more stable than some of the other towns and villages situated in and around the Highlands, the weather did have a tendency to not do as foretold. But that was to be expected when living so close to the Dochart Waterfalls, which formed part of the River Dochart, and the Breadalbane mountains. However, summer time also brought something else to Killin and that was tourists.

A lot of tourists.

It often meant that a few of the small community shops had to draft in extra help over the tourist season, which ran from May to the end of September. Most of the people pulled into help were permanent residents of the village or students who were home for the summer and willing to earn some money. None of the extra help were outsiders, all except for one and everyone in Killin agreed that she was a permanent resident despite her protests.

“Skiá! Good morning and -”

“If the next words out of yer mouth are ‘will you go out with me this afternoon?, I will throw ye out of this pub, Murdoch.”

“Good thing that I wasn’t talking to you then, Ciarach. Besides, you can’t throw me out as it’s not yer pub.”

Distracted momentarily from what she was doing by the call of her name, it didn’t take the grey eyed young woman long to realise who had called her. Normally she didn’t have a problem with speaking to Nathan Murdoch, as well as denying all of his offers and advances. But after everything that had happened at Hogwarts School over the last year and losing one of the few people she, well Fred, had trusted, Skiá didn’t want to deal with him. And it showed.

A single glance at the weariness on the pale features of one of their most liked youngest residents, had the pub/inn’s owner acting. At 29 years old and nearly 6ft7, Sam Catanach towered above most of the people who worked, lived and visited Killin. He was often called the gentle giant of the Scottish Highlands, for he was known to help rescue those who needed assistance up on the mountains. But there was also another side to him. A side that only the village’s magical folk knew about.

Sam was a born werewolf and the Alpha of the Scottish Catanach Pack. He was also one of the Leaders of the Day community, which allowed him to step in whenever anything occurred in the village during the daytime. Like right now. “Conall might not be able tae throw ye out but I can an’ will, Nathan. Leave the lass alone or I’ll ban ye from ‘ere again.” It wouldn’t be the first time that he had banned the 25 year old fisherman from the establishment and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it to protect someone. In particular, a certain gender fluid English teenager.

While the quiet werewolf Alpha dealt with Nathan, Skiá packed everything away and slipped into the shadows. She didn’t really feel like dealing with anyone else that day, except for Conall and Sam. But that was one of the best parts about living out here. Unlike back at the Weasley family home, the Burrow, she wasn’t falling over people or having to share a bathroom.

Although she did miss George and Ginny sometimes but her twin wasn’t living at the Burrow anymore. The only two kids still in the family home were Ginny and Ron. Bill and Charlie were Egypt and Romania respectively while Percy and George lived in London. Her twin and their older brothers all tried to visit, even Percy as it gave him a break.

A very loud screech caught the redhead’s attention and made a rarely seen grin form on her lips as she stepped from the shadows near her home. There was no need to avoid the diving Peregrine Falcon as she knew exactly who it was. Strike, her animal companion of 5 years. Seeing the dark streak and hearing the loud screech had become a constant for her now. It was often the falcon who alerted those around her if something was wrong and being the fastest bird of prey in the world, it rarely took him long to get to places.

There was absolutely nothing about this day that make the barely 5ft4 17 year old witch be prepared for what was to come. No one had plans to visit and with the tell-tale early warning signs of a thunderstorm approaching, she had no plans to go out tonight. It was going to be a quiet evening in for her curled up with a book, a hot chocolate and listening to music in front of the living room fireplace.

Or at least, that’s what her plan was.

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warnersister · 1 year ago

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Oh, how you’d changed him

Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary: how you’d changed Tom and his life for the better, and how ridiculous his previous plans seemed after that.

Tom had carefully planned out his world domination, created his alias Lord Voldemort and the horrors that would go with him. He decided that he would single-handedly take over the wizarding world by any means necessary and reek havoc amongst the weaklings that surrounded him. This; a plan he had created since he was merely a boy, determined to return what this cruel world had forced upon him - sorrow and pain.

Until he met you. To Tom, you were like a breath of fresh air, an unbeatable presence with bright and hopeful features that offered a sense of peace in his life. You had been acquaintances since first year, however had become more familiar in sixth-year potions, just as he was plotting his first horcruxes along with the basallisk attack, you had been assigned as station-partners in the early September of that year.

When your names had been read Tom quirked a brow, however was not disappointed with the testily - having duly noted your previous achievements in the subject and feeling as though you could come in handy later down the line when his domination was more of a priority than his studies, but his world came crashing down when you turned in your seat to examine him.

Tom was lead to believe that he was incapable of love. A monotone psychopathic freak lacking human emotions, yet obtaining alien abilities. It when your eyes looked him over and your hair swayed behind your shoulders, he was unable to ignore the way his heartbeat quickened and breath faltered, in Tom’s eyes you were unfathomably gorgeous and he was unable to look away, a Medusa incapable of stoning her victims.

You held your hand out calmly and he admired the way your posture was straight and head held in a confident stature. “Y/n,” you said, lips soft and plump and voice soothing and gentle. “Tom,” he replied, voice failing him as he fumbled over his words with a stutter - something having never happened to him previously. You giggled at his mistake and he found himself enjoying the sound, instinctively making it his mission to hear it once more, unable to stop the smile appearing on his lips.

Tom also appreciated your knack for perfection. Your potions never failed to exceed beyond perfection and your applause was always deserved, taken with a humble nod to your peers before you set out defying the next odds in your path.

Naturally, Tom began to gravitate towards you outside of lectures, also. He’d find himself on the path to walk you to class or accompany you to the dinner table, or beside you in the library studying beyond the librarian’s patience and working hours. Tom found comfort in your presence and allowed himself to indulge regardless of what ‘Lord Voldemort’ told him to do.

Eventually, he’d offered his arm to stroll down with you to Hogsmeade on a chilly autum day, a few weeks before Christmas celebrations would commence and the winter solstice would turn the Scottish highlands surrounding you into an awe-worthy winter wonderland. “May I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” Tom asked with a small smile, holding his arm out to you while you friends giggled and pushed you towards him. You’d laughed with him as you threaded your forearm alongside his, joining you both at the hip while you replied: “yes, you may Tommy.”

Strangely, he never felt any kind of resentment to any nickname you’d give him other than his name. He welcomed your names with open arms and answered to nearly any plausible noun that passed his lips. He even bought you butterbeer to warm your frostbitten lips, sipping simultaneously while the barmaid offered a few obvious knowing glances.

You shivered as you walked on, the many layers you had adorned on top of your skin no match for the ever-growing cold attacking Hogwarts and found yourself struggling with chattering teeth. Tom immediately removed his long coat and wrapped it around you, admiring both the chivalry of his actions and the satisfied smile on your face when your body temperature started to rise. “No, no, Tom. You’ll get cold.” You said, a reluctant whine passing your lips to which he shrugged. With anyone else, he would’ve let you freeze to death, but not you. He would die for you, freeze to death if you will. “I’m fine, I’m more concerned about getting you back to the castle without hypothermia.” He says with a small chuckle, pulling you into his side by the waist. “I guess you aren’t so cold-hearted as you make yourself out to be, Tom Riddle.” He looks down at you and considers your words for a few seconds.

“You confuse me, y/n. I’ve never felt so warm and gleeful around a person yet you never fail to bring a smile to my face. Teach me how to do that.” I instructs but you shake your head no gently. “I cannot do that simply due to the face that you do it to me, also.” You reply, each exchanging knowing glances between each others eyes and lips. He leans down and traps your lips with his own, warming your body through a simple yet sophisticated gesture and from that day forward you were referred to as his girlfriend.

Of course, however he had also come clean about his upbringing and eventually the chamber and the basilisk. He had told you he was conceived under the influence of a love spell and believed that he was incapable of loving until he had met you. You laid on his bed as you talked; his head on your chest while you weaved your fingers thought his chestnut locks and listened to him. “I read a while back now about a recently investigated muggle issue called autism and it has occurred to me that you’re not incapable of love, you have asbergers Tom. I’ll read the passage to you later.” And all of a sudden all of his unjustified emotions and troubles made sense and he could finally find an unknowingly lost sense of peace within himself knowing what truly made him into the Tom Riddle he was.

When he took you into the chamber he’d told you all about his plan for domination and his large magical snake and how he had a few followers and you never judged him once. If anything you thought it was impressive that he yearned for revenge instead of acceptance but reasoned that perhaps an oversized snake and a killing spree were not the solutions he was searching for. The basilisk lived shrunken to normal size in a glass cage beside his bed after that.

And as the time went by and your relationship flourished, Voldemort seemed more like a past phase than a goal and was more focused on the life he going to create with you. He called his ‘followers’ pathetic and told them to get a life when they questioned his authority over their devotion.

Eventually, it came time for you to graduate and Tom’s hand was tightly clasped in your own as you looked at the castle for a final time. You were silent, acknowledging the end of this era and slowly coming to terms with it. After a while, Tom scoffed. “World domination.” He said with a smile shaking his head. “Who’s ever heard of such a thing?” He turned and picked up your bags along with his own. “Ready to go, darling?”

The two of you had shared your own compartment on the train ride home, others finding their own cubbies as Tom scared them off from sitting with you. Your head was rested on his shoulder as he read a muggle book to you that you had bought the previous summer ‘the great gatsby’. It was a deep and considerate book and made you think about your future, also.

“What’re we going to do now?” You ask out of the blue, interrupting his sentence as he simply closes his book and looks down at you, your face deep in thought. “Well,” he hummed, thinking for a moment. “We’ve booked that cottage in the Peak District for a few weeks, how about we think it all out then?” And you nod. “Sounds like a plan then.”

The next few weeks were spent waking together in the high peaks of the muggle countryside, simply talking and appreciating one another’s company and plotting your lives.

“Is it bad that I want to stay here forever?” You ask him, looking out at the sunsetting one warm winter evening. Tom thinks thoughtfully before saying “if it is then it’s bad that I want to stay here too.” As a pureblood witch you were born under the believe that muggle life was pointless and undeserving, and as had Tom - but together you realised you preferred the quiet and solitary, and not needing to use magic to do everything all of the time. It was a change. And it was nice.

One morning mid-august Tom was reading the newspaper and you were making you both toast. “Someone’s selling the property up the street.” He says and you sip on your drink and look out of the window. “What? The old farmhouse.” “No, the one with the long drive and vines up the side.” You sigh dreamily. “Oh, if only.” You say with a chuckle. “Darling we can afford it.” Tom says and you stay in silence for a moment, sharing the thoughts weaving through your minds. “It wouldn’t take up a large chunk of our savings.” He drops his reading glasses to the end of his nose and smirks. “We’re rich in muggle terms.” You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so humble, Riddle.” He stands up and slides his hands around your waist to hold you close as you share the view of the house in question. “We’re buying it.” He spoke after a while, finalising his decision. “What happened to the ‘I hate muggles and never want to be amongst them’?” You ask, turning to him with a cocked brow. He just shrugs. “They were Voldemort’s views. Not mine.”

Matter several months going back and forth with the previous owners and settling on an asking price, you were standing in front of the house- your house, beside tom, exactly how you had when you were leaving Hogwarts. “This is our house.” You say, not taking your eyes off of the scenic view before you. Tom takes you into his side and rubs your arm comfortingly before kissing your temple. “Our home.”

Tom became an Auror, acting as an undercover wizard in the muggle setting catching and reporting any source of dark or unrightfully used magic. You took up being a healer, training in the wizarding world but practising in your home village, being known as a respectable young doctor who all the elderly or adjacent citizens resided in to get treatment - and anything you gave them always worked.

It was a spring morning when you were down at the bakery picking up a loaf of bread for your dinners. “How’s that fella of yours?” The lady asked with a smirk. “Oh Tom’s fine, just left for work.” “Popped the question yet?” The old woman asks, elbowing you slightly. “We’re only twenty Agatha!” You say with a laugh. “Well, Arthur and I were married when we were nineteen.” She crossed her arms. “I thought you were telling me how much you hated him?” You laugh. “Oh he gets on my wire, but we were still married!”

That left you with the thought in your mind for the remainder of the day - you’d decided that Tom Riddle was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and then some.

In February you both took a trip down to the Lake District and rented a boat house with a large lake, your jobs and ‘trust funds’ inherited from family members allowed you to do this rather frequently and easily, nothing out of the ordinary to take a trip for a long weekend.

It was at sunset, rather early due to daylight saving hours when you rowed out onto the lake to just sit in tranquility for a little while, appreciating the quiet time together. You’d rose to your feet, sure that you had seen an owl fly by and when you turned around, Tom was on one knee, box in hand. In the box, the ring of Salazar Slytherin himself with a bunch of roses in the other.

“Agatha told me today is Cupid’s holiday.” He say, voice just beyond a whisper as a smile grew on your face and tears formed. “You know, until I was sixteen I was asphyxiated with the idea of taking over the world, finding a victim to take the pain that I felt. But those silly little thoughts were gone when I met you, the only person I live and breathe for. I never thought I could, however I love you, yn ln. And it would do me great honour if you would be my wife.”

You’d kissed and hugged him and wept into his shoulder as you happily embraced - ready to start the rest of your lives together. There were no other young women in the village and your parents had practically alienated you when you went to live with muggles so the ladies who attended your doctors practise took you shopping for your wedding dress - Tom insisted on paying.

Dolly was brutally honest and Susan started crying, Agatha kissed you and called you her daughter and it was certainly a day to remember - a gorgeous fitting dress, white and highlighting your features gracefully.

You’d gotten married in the village church, an audience of your neighbours and close friends and a few companions from school, Agatha was your maid of honour and Greta your flower girl, gleaming smile on her face while her husband rolled her down the isle in her wheelchair while she sassily threw rose petals. And Dumbledore was sat in the front row, a smart suit on while he smiled at the man the little evil boy turned out to be, and the gorgeous woman you had flourished into.

It was a beautiful ceremony and a beautiful day. And you were now the beautiful yn Riddle.

In September, Abraxas Malfoy and his wife wanted to celebrate their wedding anniversary and asked if they would drop their son, Lucius off for the week so they could go away. You and Tom decided to take the week off work and look after him, after all, the young lad needed to be accustomed to his god parents!

One evening Lucius had pleaded with you to go sit in the garden and paint together and of course you complied, taking the supplied and the young boy on your hip, and headed for the grass to make a mess. And make a mess you did, there was red in your hair and blue on his white libel shirt, and hardly anything on the page. Tom watched from the window sipping on a cup of tea, watching as you interacted with the young boy so naturally, tickling his stomach and laughing as you played hidey-boo. It created an odd twang in his stomach, the same he had felt when he had first laid eyes on you.

One day when the boy had been reunited with his parents, Tom had been sent on a mission to retrieve an escaped boggart. During his time at Hogwarts, his biggest was recognisably his own dead corpse, but when he approached the creature, it’s form was your grave with him sat looking deathly ill beside it weeping. Your headstone read ‘a loving wife and doctor, no children’ his stomach dropped when he realised what he needed. What he needed right now.

He got home that night and held you close and cried, feeling you warm and full of life. You caressed his shaking body as you soothes him, and when he had calmed he had taken your face into his hands and cradled it, telling you suddenly “yn I want a baby.”

Throughout your pregnancy, Tom was tender and reluctant to let you move without him being beside you. He became more protective than he already was an even took an extended paternity leave just before your due date.

Prior to that however, he worshiped you like a goddess. He would make you decaf tea - something you grumbled about but he refused to listen. He stopped smoking his pipe inside the house, instead taking it to the end of the garden while he and Mr Garson next door chatted about his wife and you. He made you lay on the settee and sat on the floor beside your growing stomach while he read old wives tales from a book inherited from his mother. He even sang to it once or twice. After the sixth month mark when your belly was becoming noticeably plump to the point you could rest your tea cup upon it without it falling off, he began carrying you everywhere. Regardless of how far the distance, and the fact you were carrying another human, he acted as though you were a feather that needed assistance and carried you the way he did on your wedding night.

When you took your own maternity leave, he was even more pleased - before he’d sit beside you in your doctors office and never took his eyes off of you, now he needn’t a reason to why. In his eyes, his love was pregnant and needed tending too. He’d shower with you and lift your stomach until he saw the face of satisfaction he knew well and loved. And he’d be lying if he said the breasts you were growing didn’t make his mouth water, as well as the fact there was a possibility that he could impregnate a pregnant woman - a thought that drove him wild but alas after many attempts, it was eventually an unsuccessful mission.

And in the next July, Tom was sweating as he held your hand and felt a great pain as you cried in agony beside him. You were in a muggle hospital, Agatha had awoken in the middle of the night and heard your pained cries and ordered her husband, Mr Garson to drive you to the hospital which he did, adjusting his thick-lenses on his glasses and having to be awoken a few times at the wheel from Tom’s furious barks, but you made it on one piece, and at quarter to ten, you produced him a son, deciding on naming him Mattheo Riddle.

After giving him a bath, the midwife’s tried to take him away ‘give you a break’, but you refused. Groggily saying “I’ve only had him ten minutes why would I need a break.” And Tom soon shooed them off, getting into the bed beside you and holding your son skin-to-skin as he slept on his fathers chest, and you on his shoulder. When you drifted off he kissed the top of your head gently and whispered sweetly “well done, mummy.”

Tom was determined to be the father he didn’t have. And a good one at that.

Mr and Mrs Garson cried when you asked them to be the godparents, you would’ve appointed the role to everyone in this village if you could - your own little family larger than it seemed.

The newborn stage went by awefully fast and you and Tom self with every hurdle and hiccup together, all the nappies and sick, and the 3AM walks when baby Matty would not settle. It was gone and soon you had a walking talking toddler of whom you were both awfully proud of.

The chilly autumnal eves suddenly turned into even colder winter morns, Christmas was making its rounds in the muggle world and you and Tom had became accustomed to it. You decorated the tree, hung candles, sung carols, gave presents and ate specialty meals on the 25th. Tom sat in his armchair, Mattheo on lap, reading glasses down to the end of his nose as he read A Christmas Carol to him.

You were making dinner, Mince Pie was on the menu that night in particular, and you smiled as you notice the snow falling. You wiped your hands and leant against the doorframe watching your two boys in awe, just memorising the picture for a moment. “Are you alright, my love?” Tom asked, smiling up at you. “Just admiring the picture.” You say, mirroring his grin. Then you turn to your son. “I’m awfully sorry to interrupt, master Riddle. However, so I do believe it is snowing.” He gasped dramatically when he heard the news. “Snow! But we’re reading! But snow!” You both laugh at his dilemma then suggest “how about we eat dinner, then we’ll read out in the snow and make a snowman.” The young boy squeals in delight and runs to the dining room to eat, sitting ever so patiently yet with an impatient smile on those cheeky lips.

That evening you built a snowman, read the last part of the book, and put your son peacefully to sleep in his bed after singing ‘Silent Night’ to him. You and Tom basked in the sight for a moment, just taking in the calmness of the setting.

And as Tom looked down at you, he thought of how you’d changed him.

*scoff* Lord Voldemort, who’d ever heard of anything so ridiculous?

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kay9leo · 2 months ago

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Siblings' judgement

When MC's siblings were asked what was the most interesting thing that happened to them in the summer when they went back to school, it was watching Sebastian navigate NYC when he went to visit them in New York. These are their drawings:

MC/Iñaki's little sister, Grace and her Drawing:

MC/Iñaki's little brother, Ricky and his drawing:

Meet Grace and Ricky, MC's younger Irish/Catholic siblings. They met Sebastian a few times before and know what he's like and found it rather amusing seeing him almost die (in their words) by nearly getting hit by bicyclists and runners right when they are about to cross the street. The only reason he hasn't gotten hurt yet is because Iñaki pulls him back right at the last second since she has a 6th sense about these things as Sebastian's life flashes before his life as he see the bicyclists and runners zoom right pass him.

While both younger siblings know that Sebastian isn't Iñaki's boyfriend...they do question their closeness. Especially when they notice Sebastian's cheeks blush when Iñaki is holding his hand the entire time they are in Manhattan.

I like to think that in Sebastian's subconscious (and in Ricky's observation), he thinks Iñaki is holding his hand because she likes him. Meanwhile, Iñaki is holding his hand the entire time so he won't get lost in the crowd of people and to be his guide on when to cross the street/jaywalk.

(Did I draw this because I pulled what Iñaki did in preventing a loved one from being hit by a bike/runner/scooter and held hands/arms to not lose them in the crowd? Yes. Yes I did.)

I would like to imagine this took place during the summer between 4th and 5th year for Iñaki. She and her family went back home to New York for a bit and Sebastian was able to visit them.

Her family took him out to Manhattan. Needless to say, navigating the city is a completely different beast to navigating Hogsmeade and Sebastian hasn't been to any major city since Solomon became his and Anne's guardian after his parents died. So he has no city navigation survival skills. Especially in the muggle world as a pureblood.

(I would like to think that it was either her parents who bought him a round trip ticket for a week since he seemed so interested in knowing what NYC or it was Ominis who used his money to help him get a ticket; partly since Ominis knows that Sebastian and Solomon bump heads often -more so since Anne got cursed- and wants to keep him out of his own household for his safety and mental health and partly to sort of guide Sebastian away from the Dark Arts and see if he can find some knowledge in the States that Sebastian hasn't been able to find at Hogwarts).

...

And both Grace and Ricky couldn't spell correctly for that day since they were sleep deprived. They literally arrived to London hours before their first day of school because their airline had canceled the family's flight at the last minute and rescheduled it for them to return a lot later than expected. While Grace and Ricky went to school sleep deprived, Iñaki completely missed taking the Hogwarts Express and arrived at school on the 2nd since they had to wait for Professor Fig to take her once he got their owl.

All three siblings really had a rough 1st week due to being jet legged XD

...

More about Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga

#After Sebastian's visit to NYC it is very likely that the form that his boggart takes is a bicyclist #that will literally ram into him at full force for a while #I drew this because when you become a tour guide for your friends/family in NYC one of your main jobs #is to help prevent them getting hit by cyclists runners and people on ebikes and e-scooters #I literally prevented my family from being hit by them and everyone always get shook at how fast everyone goes here #If you thought Seb was huffing on his way to Hogsmeade he's hiding his fatigue behind his grin claiming he can walk a few more blocks #he doesn't want to be outdone by MC's younger siblings who aren't breaking a sweat yet #No really he's secretly dying from NYC summer heat/humidity #But now he also sees why MC walks so fast back at Hogwarts - her walking speed is everyone else's jogging speed #and why MC will walk crazy amounts in the highlands despite having a broom or floo access #Modern AU...sort of #inaki martinez cariaga #Inaki #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy

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