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countryclubstarkey · 4 years ago

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SOMETHING TO REMEMBER - Sirius Black Smut

Pairings: Sirius Black x Virgin Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, first time, fingering, making out and more

Word Count: 2k+

*Not my Gif

The marauders were quite famous at Hogwarts, known for their pranking and good looks; the group of boys had everyone looking at them at all times. Some people looked at them with hatred, such as Severus Snape and others worshipped the ground they walked on.

You had neutral feelings about them as long as they didn’t mess with you, you were fine with whatever chaos they were causing, plus their good looks and charm were always a nice thing to be around.

Today, the group of boys decided to turn all the Slytherin uniforms Gryffindor red, causing most of them to be in a foul mood. You found it particularly funny, especially when you saw Lucius Malfoy with his platinum hair in the uniform.

Late afternoon on Friday, you were all sitting in potions listening to Slughorn ramble about random topics that he found interesting when suddenly a student knocked on the door.

“Professor Slughorn, Professor McGonagall needs you for something important,” a random second-year student told him. “I’ll be back soon everyone, please read page 300 in the meantime.”

Nobody truly listened to him; instead, everyone turned to their friends.

Feeling a sudden warmth around your ear and you turned to see Sirius Black closing in and leaning towards you. You and Sirius had a strange relationship; he would flirt with you at any chance he could just to see you blush, and to be honest, you didn’t mind the attention.

“So you coming to my party tonight?” he whispered gently in your ear. Your body covered with chills because of how close he was.

“I don’t think so; I have a lot to study.”

A pouty expression made its way on his face, “cmon it’s my birthday; it would mean a lot to the birthday boy.”

Before you could reply, Professor Slughorn made his way back into the room and began his lesson again with just a few minutes left of class. As you were heading back to your dorm room after, a loud booming sound echoed throughout the hall calling your name, “Y/N, wait up.”

Sirius was rushing across the hall trying to reach you, “you never said yes, you know,” the fit boy told you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to guide you to your dorm.

“Fine, I’ll come for a little bit, and that’s only because I want to talk to Remus about this new book that came out last month,” you mentioned.

Little chuckles escaped his lips as he found your slight obsession with books adorable, but he would never mention that to you at least not right now. “We both know you’re coming for me, darling, save me dance,” Sirius said while walking away, causing you to let out a deep sigh because of how he was making you feel.

Meanwhile, when you got back to your dorm, you decided to pick what to wear to the party and got ready since you only had a little bit of time before it became dark. Whenever any of the marauders threw a party, they tended to get a little wild and out of control so you had to prepare yourself for that.

When nighttime finally hit, you met up with Lily, Alice, Marlene and Mary to head to the party together. Glowing lights brightly lit the Gryffindor common room, the smell of alcohol and weed flowing through the air and the music was loudly played throughout the room. No doubt the music choice were all Sirius’s favourite muggle songs.

You saw the birthday boy and James singing along to whatever song they could their hands on while dancing on the tables already out of their minds. Remus and Peter were trying to get them down before they injured themselves but they were having trouble standing up themselves.

“Guess we have to catch up,” Marlene grinned and dragged all of you to the table that offered the fire whiskey. After several shots, you were finally relaxed and in a similar mindset as the boys. As time went on, you danced and took even more shots with everyone at the party, including Remus, who decided to let loose tonight. Everyone was having the time of their lives, nobody thought about what was going on outside of Hogwarts, but only the party in the Gryffindor common room.

Around 3 a.m, people started heading back to their rooms, and only you, Lily, Marlene, Mary, Alice, Frank and the marauders were left sitting on the couches.

“Let’s play spin the bottle,” Mary suddenly brought up and pulled everyone in a circle. Mary decided to spin the bottle first, and it landed on Marlene; the two girls didn’t hesitate and shared a sweet but intimate kiss.

“That was too easy for you guys,” Remus blurted out, suddenly feeling the effects of the alcohol. The girls shrugged while giggling as Marlene spun the bottle and it landed on James. James gave her a quick peck out of respect for Lily.

Next, James spun the bottle, and it landed on Sirius Black.

“No, Padfoot, cmon not again,” James groaned out, not interested in kissing his best mate. Curiously, Alice said, “what do you mean not again?”

Sirius winked, “That’s a story for another time; let’s go prongs, pucker up.” James and Sirius leaned in and gave each other a quick kiss before wiping it off as soon as they finished. The whole group erupted into laughter over the discomfort they saw in the two.

As the laugher started to die down, you began to grow nervous as you noticed it was Sirius’s turn to spin the bottle, and just because of your luck, the bottle landed on you.

Sirius moved towards you, “May I?” You nodded your head at him as you both gradually leaned in and connected your lips. Sirius could feel how nervous you were, so he allowed you to make the next move without pushing you any further.

You deepened the kiss when you felt at ease and could taste cigarettes, fire whiskey and a hint of honey lingering on his lips.

Sirius raised his hand to caress the soft skin of your jaw as he slipped his tongue slowly past your lips, trying to savour this moment as much as he could. Both of you didn’t realize the others were still there until you heard someone clear their throat. Sirius sighed against your lips before giving you one last peck and pulling away to look at your friends again.

The awkward moment passed as time went on, and one by one, everyone went to bed until it was only you and Sirius.

“You know this wasn’t a one-time thing; I really wanted to kiss you, love. I’ve actually liked you for a while now,” Sirius broke the silence and grabbed your hand.

You smiled at him, returning his actions, “I wanted to kiss you too Sirius.” A big grin made its way across his face as he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his lap.

This time you closed the distance between the two of you as your hands grasped his precious locks. The kiss got deeper and more intense with time. You pulled away to steady your breathing as Sirius attached his lips to your jaw, nipping at the skin. Sirius loved the way your skin felt on his lips as he left kisses all across your neck and jaw.

“We should stop before we do something you might regret,” Sirius tried pulling away, but you captured his face and brought him back into the kiss.

In a soothing tone, “I’m not going to regret doing anything with you because I have feelings for you too, I’m sure Sirius,” you told him. Suddenly, Sirius stood up with you wrapped around his body as he headed towards the door of the common room.

“Where are we going,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible. “Somewhere that’s going to give us a little more privacy.”

A door appeared out of nowhere on one of the walls allowing Sirius to step in. It was a replica of the Gryffindor common room except a king-sized bed in the middle. He settled you on the bed as he began kissing down your body, not leaving an inch uncovered.

You helped him unbutton your shirt as he started to kiss your exposed breasts, leaving love bites that you’ll cherish in the morning. “Siri-us,” your moans filled the room as you pulled his hair from the pleasure.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” his words made you blush as you tried to hide your face in your arms, but he didn’t give you the chance to do so. He took off your shirt and bra as he began palming and teasing your nipples, causing chills to gather around your body. You tried to take his shirt off, but his actions stopped you midway. One hand continued to caress your tits, but his other hand started to rub you through your panties, trying to gather your arousal.

“Darling, are you trying to kill me,” he groaned out. Sirius took your panties off but kept your skirt on as he began rubbing your bare cunt.

“We can stop anytime, you know, are you sure you want me to continue,” he asked you one last time. You nodded your head furiously at him trying to get him to continue, “I need words Y/N.”

“Yes, please,” you told him as he entered one finger through your folds and teased your clit with his thumb. Feeling your body clench hard around him as you tried to adjust to the new feeling. Once your body relaxed; he sped up his movements and added another finger.

You felt a foreign feeling on your clit, as something wet started licking at it. Sirius’s head was between your legs as his tongue worked on your clit and his fingers in your pussy. The new action created a different feeling, a good difference. “Plea-se, don’t stop. I’m going to cu-,” you panted as you felt your stomach twist and clench.

“Let go for me,” Sirius groaned out as he felt you release on his tongue and fingers. He helped you calm down after your orgasm by rubbing your thighs whispering praises throughout the entire process. When your eyes opened, Sirius was leaning over and looking at you with lust and love in his eyes. You felt his bulge rubbing against your body as he began peppering kisses on your face.

You both helped him out of his clothes so that he was left bare. His cock stood proudly as the red tip was oozing already with pre-cum and the rest throbbing. He switched your positions so that he was laying underneath you now as you sat in his lap in nothing but your skirt from earlier tonight, quickly; he casted a contraception spell.

His hands rubbed down his cock to get it ready for your next move.

“Ready?” the raven-haired boy asked. His thumbs rubbing circles around your hips, reassuring you if you had any regret you can back out now.

You nodded and braced yourself before slowly lowering yourself on his cock. Your breathing increased as he stretched you out, the pain increased as you went down inch by inch, his face scrunched up in pain and pleasure as he wanted nothing more than to thrust fully into you.

“Love, it’ll feel a lot better if you relaxed,” he told you, trying to make this pleasurable for you both when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

You controlled your breathing as you felt your muscles loosen and the pain became more bearable. He felt you relax around him as it became more pleasurable rather than painful. Sirius gently thrusted trying to see your reactions at a slow pace; with a nod and brief bounce, his thrusts got quicker.

Pleasurable moans left your lips as his cock hit spots that you weren’t familiar with; you began returning his thrusts and tried to control the movements yourself when you felt more comfortable. Nails started dragging down his chest when Sirius angled his hips differently, causing him to aim at your g-spot.

“Darling, you feel so nice and tight,” he groaned out, trying to last a little longer but your pussy preventing it. He dragged your body towards his own and began rapidly thrusting, causing the room to be filled with your loud moans. His lips connected to your neck, breasts and anything else that he could find. He saw your mouth fall open when his finger made contact with your clit as he rubbed a figure-eight motion helping you reach climax.

“I’-m close,” you groaned in his ear as your body began shaking and the tight feeling made its way back in your stomach. Sirius didn’t stop when he felt you cum all over his cock, he continued working you through your orgasm while trying to reach his at the same time.

“Sh-it” he exclaimed as he released his cum. You felt his cum mix with yours as it dripped out leaking onto your thighs and the bed.

Once both of you came down from your high, you slowly got off Sirius to lay down beside him cuddling into his warm body. The only sounds in the empty room were your heavy breathing and the light rain that was hitting the windows. The air began to feel cooler as you snuggled deeper into Sirius, burying your head in his chest.

“How was that for you,” his beautiful voice genuinely asked you.

In a calm tone, “Something worth remembering” you told him as your eyes started to flutter away.

#sirius black smut #sirius black #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x reader smut #ben barnes #Ben Barnes smut #marauders smut

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nightcolorz · 3 years ago

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Hyper-analyzing Abner Krill as a rebuttal to James Gunn’s hella confusing Polka Dot Man take (spoilers)

For reference, this is the tweet I‘ll be referring to:

Like most of The Suicide Squad fans (from what I’ve seen), I didn’t get the impression that Abner was an attention seeker AT ALL throughout the film, the opposite really. He��s probably the most reserved member of the squad, most of the scenes he appears in have him awkwardly standing in the background of a shot, rarely (if ever) joining in on the other’s banter. When he does speak it often stunts the flow of the conversation, leaving whoever was involved standing around in a baffled silence. Abner is incredibly socially awkward, I think we can all agree on that. He doesn’t understand what is and what isn’t socially acceptable, most likely due to his incredibly sheltered childhood living as (what’s basically) his mother’s lab rat. This creates what I think is a very interesting contradiction between Abner’s obvious attempts to keep himself private between his seemingly randomly abrupt “attention-seeking“ esk comments. As James Gunn said, Abner takes “opportunities”. If you think about it, all of Abner’s “attention seeking” moments are responses to other characters speaking to him/asking him questions (ie: Robert: We’re all gonna die” Abner:“I hope so”, “Cleo: I thought you were the crazy one” Abner: “I am”, *Suicide Squad tries to explain away their previous, unnecessary mass murder* Abner: “I turned them into my mother in my head and killed them”). People tend to forget that before Abner notoriously trauma dumped to the rest of the Squad about his mother, he very actively tried to avoid having that conversation. Upon first asking about Abner’s polka dot virus, he tells the others that it’s “just a rash”, when he’s finally confronted about it again (right before he finally caves) he looks clearly uncomfortable and asks Robert to “just drop it”. Even during his little backstory rant he tries to simplify it and gloss over the events as quickly as possible. Instead of explaining his ongoing hallucinations of his mother (or whether she actually is dead or alive, for that matter, which was originally the question he was meant to be answering) he simply says she’s “everywhere” and refuses to elaborate. Hell, the other members of The Suicide Squad probably have no idea what the fuck he means by that, it would be quite the stretch for them to catch onto what was really going on just by Abner’s very breif description. (Ofc, it’s implied they eventually catch on, gathered from Robert shouting “its your mom!” at the very end, but my point still stands). So, I‘d say the thesis of this post is “Is Abner an attention seeker?” or more specifically, “Why is Abner so frank about his trauma when he otherwise tries to keep it hidden?” Well, I’d say this relates closely back to my earliest point, Abner is VERY socially awkward as well as very sheltered. When he bluntly speaks about his poor mental health, childhood trauma, ect, he (most likely) doesn’t consider the attention he’s bringing upon himself, or how awkward he‘s making his peers feel. He’s simply doing what’s expected of him, answering honestly, or alternatively adding what he can to the conversation.

Growing up under his mother’s foot meant he was to respond when he was spoken too, and he hasn’t yet grasped the crucial differences between the social climate of his abusive household and the rest of society. Why would he? From what we understand, Abner went straight from mom’s house to prison. The Suicide mission was his chance to experience the world, to try alcohol for the first time and dance with his new friends. To me, Abner’s tragically awkward hallucinations were less a chance for some visual comedy and more a subtle allegory for how Abner still has the mindset he did as an abused child. Everyone is his mother, everyone is powerful and scary and out to hurt him.

However, if theirs one thing I do agree with James Gunn on, it’s that I don’t think he had a connection with Milton that was that much deeper than he did with the rest of The Suicide Squad. Yes, yes I know, hot take alert/s, but lemme explain first okay. I agree that Abner most likely did have a crush on Milton, I thought that was made very clear (according to some fans, my assumptions were wrong). However, this doesn’t mean that I think they had some sort of thrilling “love affair” (as Robert puts it). To Abner, Milton represents normality, something he was never able to achieve. He’s just an average guy, a truck driver who cowers in fear of him and the squad, begging them not to hurt him. Milton’s so far removed from the kind of person his mother was that it’s impossible to project her onto him. He’s not powerful, he doesn’t want to hurt him, he couldn’t if he tried. He fears Abner, and I feel like that would have been quite the culture shock for someone who spent his entire life cowering at his mothers mercy, or otherwise as the wimp that not even Calendar Man could respect. It wasn’t necessarily Milton as a person that Abner became attached to (they only knew each other for like a day, of course) but what he represented to him. I don’t think this is that much of a big deal to be honest, I think James Gunn either one: worded his point very poorly or two: had an original interpretation of the character that was miscommunicated because of his actor’s very different interpretation. In the end I think David Dastmalchain’s interpretation came off far clearer than James Gunn’s did (which has been causing most of the confusion), and tbh I’m sort of glad that was the case. As a neurodivergent person who struggles highly with tone I’m absolutely in love with Polka Dot Man and David Dastmalchain’s performance. A character who comes off as “attention seeking” and blunt because he doesn’t understand when it is or isn’t appropriate to overshare is VERY relatable and compelling to me, and is far more interesting than whatever James Gunn’s original vision was. Of course, I don’t think James Gunn should get “canceled“ over this, I highly doubt he intended to call socially awkward people “attention seeking” for not understanding social cues, he made that pretty clear in the replies of his tweet. I don’t think he was originally referring to Polka Dot Man’s social anxiety, but it did sorta come off that way in the end so I understand how people could be upset. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what James Gunn’s original interpretations were because they clearly didn’t come off in the film, and we were left with something far better! (in my opinion, obviously). I’m glad James Gunn made that tweet though, because it gave me a lot of food for thought.

(TLDR: Abner isn’t attention seeking, he’s socially awkward and grew up sheltered and abused, so he doesn’t understand why oversharing is inappropriate. Abner didn’t have a meaningful relationship with Milton per say, but he became attached to him because he represents normality for him, something he’s never experienced. James Gunn isn’t problematic for his bad take, it probably just expresses a mistranslation of his original vision.)

#polka dot man #polkadot man #abner krill #james gunn #the suicide squad #tss #Suicide Squad #long post #character analysis #milton #dceu #david dastmalchian

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

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After reading your opinion on Molly Weasley, i want to know: What are you're opinions on the Weasley family? Besides Ron & Molly that is.

Five characters? In one post? Well, alright, here we go.

The Weasleys as a Whole

I’ve mentioned this before but JKR writes the Weasleys to clearly be a believable but ideal family. They’re all fiercely loyal, progressive per wizarding world standards, love each other and Harry deeply, and have this wonderful off-kilter joyous house where there’s always some rambunctious thing going on.

Harry comes to associate the Weasleys with family and, personally, I believe a large part of him marrying Ginny boils down to it will make him a Weasley for real.

That said, they’ve got some major issues. They’re very righteous people who, as a whole, will ice you out the moment they even suspect you do something that disagrees with them. You don’t even have to do it, what you did or didn’t do doesn’t even have to be something terrible or something bad, but god help you if the family decides they’re done with you.

They’re very resentful of people like the Malfoys. This isn’t just because Lucius is a smarmy, pompous, ass (he is) or that he indirectly almost murdered Ginny but seems to mostly be because Lucius has so much money. All of their interactions seem to boil down to the money. More than this though, the Weasleys seem fully supportive of laws that... well, used against themselves would be a travesty but used against the likes of the Malfoys it’s about damn time.

They’re unquestioningly loyal to Dumbledore. Granted, most people we see in canon are, Dumbledore’s very very very good at convincing people he’s a saint. However, these guys are practically his cult member to the point where they do things like refuse to have Harry over the summer, even before Voldemort returned, because Dumbledore told them not to.

They also never really adopt Harry into the family. Oh they give him a nice sweater, he comes over every once in a while to the house, he’s very good friends with Ron but he’s mostly treated just like that, a good friend. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, except the way JKR sets it up we’re supposed to believe this is the family Harry found. It’s just that the family Harry’s found let’s him stay in a house with bars on his window where twelve-year-old Ron tells them, “Harry’s muggle family is really really awful” in a way that should have been raising red flags. Hermione practically lives at the Weasleys, Harry never does.

Now, are the Weasleys evil? No, far from it, they’re ordinary people who act in ways I’d expect ordinary people too. Technically they didn’t have to do anything more for Harry than they did, they didn’t have to hate Lucius Malfoy for better reasons, and they don’t have to be even slightly less worshipful of Dumbledore. They’re people, and they’re fine characters, but the overwhelming worship and love of the Weasleys we see across fandom does get on my nerves.

But you asked for individuals, so here we go.

Arthur Weasley

Arthur is the epitome of “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” in the worst of ways and is, frankly, a giant awful joke to me. He’s the white kid you see going around with dread locks, a beanie the color of the Jamaican flag, smoking weed, and attempting to speak like Bob Marley

Only, because he does it with muggle things, we’re supposed to find him funny and progressive.

Arthur is absolutely, albeit unwittingly, condescending in his love of muggle knickknacks. He has no idea how any of it actually works, not limited to how muggles could possible survive without the gold standard, but ardently believes he does because he can enchant the car to fly. Seriously, that he believes he’s an expert on muggle culture, as a pureblood wizard who heads an office in the ministry on it, is the worst part. His love of toasters comes across as, “Wow, look how cool it is that these poor little muggles made all this neat stuff. We should absolutely love the muggles because of it!” And that he heads an office in the ministry called “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” which is all about catching down Jackass style pranksters who think it would be hilarious of they enchanted toasters to bludgeon muggles to death...

Goddammit Arthur, why do you exist?

Right, otherwise, he’s got some pride issues going on. Part of the reason Percy is excommunicated is not so much that Percy doesn’t believe Harry, but because Percy dared to do better than Arthur in his own career. Arthur is stuck in his position as head of a joke of a department, he is an underling at its finest, and frankly likely only has that position because he’s a pureblood and the idea of putting a halfblood or even muggleborn at the head of a department dealing with muggles just made the higher ups shudder. (Don’t tell Arthur that though, he likes to think he’s not benefitting from nepotism).

Arthur goes so far to accuse Percy as Fudge’s secretary as spying on him. Arthur, the guy who heads “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts”. Yeah, Arthur, I’m sure Fudge is really wasting his time using his straight laced secretary to find out all your dirty secrets.

He also tends to see the world as very black and white. When Skeeter in book 4 writes an article after the Quidditch World Cup disaster complaining about the ministry’s lax security in enabling domestic terrorists to enter (something completely valid and true by the way) Arthur is so personally offended that both he and Percy go straight to the ministry to complain about Rita Skeeter and her daring to assume freedom of speech! HOW DARE SHE CALL THE MINISTRY’S NON-EXISTENT SECURITY AT THE WORLD CUP LAX! (To be fair, she also cited Arthur as having been in attendance at the event, a ministry employee, and having done nothing but, well, this is also true Arthur. You’re in a guerilla, underground, resistance movement. If I didn’t already think the Order was a joke this would kind of highlight it for me).

He’s also very resentful of Lucius Malfoy, and it seems to mostly be about the money. Arthur and Molly have a severe spending problem and actively resent that Lucius is swimming in money. That Arthur is ardently pleased about a law being passed in which the ministry without warrant can ransack Lucius Malfoy’s home...

Well, Arthur, imagine the slippery slope if the government decides that it would like to search the Weasley home without warrant? In fact, he doesn’t even have to imagine it, as the beloved government in a few short years turns against him and then it’s all about how corrupt the ministry is.

Arthur’s delightfully narrowminded, basically, and reminds us at nearly every opportunity.

Percy Weasley

Mostly, I just feel bad for Percy. Percy’s the son/brother that nobody likes and he’s painfully aware of that fact. He doesn’t fit in with the others, he has far too much ambition for the Gryffindor family and they resent him for it, and then he dares to say things like “I don’t know guys, Voldemort resurrecting from the dead after decades doesn’t sound plausible, we know Harry’s a little off kilter, and Dumbledore’s one shady dude”. Percy happens to be wrong about Voldemort resurrecting (and admits as much when the evidence is plainly visible), but he’s pretty on the money with the rest of it.

Regardless, growing up we see Ron constantly hating on Percy along with the rest of the siblings. I’m sure Percy is obnoxious, and certainly full of himself after making prefect and head boy, but he’s very clearly even before Order of the Phoenix the Least Favorite Brother (TM).

Then the Weasley family completely ices him out for a) getting a very high ranking position very quickly as Fudge’s secretary and b) not being gung ho about Dumbledore saying crazy things in the paper. Remember that to Percy Harry is Ron’s weird friend who seems to get into highly illegal activities every other week. From Percy’s point of view, it’s probably a matter of time before Harry becomes a crack head in Knockturn Alley (or given how behind the times wizards tend to be, an opium den).

He’s constantly getting Ron into not only trouble but life threatening situations, is erratic and apparently a parseltongue of all things, and now Harry’s flipped his lid and saying that Voldemort has been resurrected after having gone through a very traumatic experience of watching a classmate somehow die.

While we see Percy kind of (sort of) make up with the family it’s clear that for Percy to have any relation with these people he’s the one who will always, ALWAYS, have to come crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. It’s the Weasley way or the highway and I imagine, at some point probably a little after/during that epilogue, Percy will just slowly drift away because it’s just not worth it anymore.

Percy’s very much the black sheep of the family.

Fred and George Weasley

You all are going to kill me, but I actually don’t care in the slightest about Fred and George Weasley. This is because they basically have no personality aside from “funny”.

They just have their weird, tandem, twin act and are either playing jokes on the school or else serving as Deus ex Machina in giving Harry magical items such as the Marauder’s Map for no apparent reason. The plot told them it was time, I guess.

Their jokes, while not as bad as Sirius and James’ “Let’s sexually harrass Severus Snape by pantsing and beating him at the edge of Hogwarts lake” or Sirius’ “Let’s get Snape eaten by a werewolf!” are still often needlessly cruel and... kind of pointless. They harass Slytherin house constantly just because they happen to be Slytherins, they’re acceptable victims (which of course makes house tension that much worse). Harry gets sent a toilet seat in the hospital because... that’s funny? Har de har?

They’re so indistinguishable from one another I routinely see people mistake which one got his ear chopped off and which one died. Because the point is, that we can’t tell the difference! It doesn’t matter who lived and who died because all we know is that Freorge is dead!

Similarly, you see tons of fics around where character of the day ends up in this weird twincestuous relationship with Fred and George and it’s not only for a) that delightful twincest but b) because they’re such a singular unit that any attempt to pair one with somebody else feels weird. So you just get these porn fics about Fred and George being weird rapey teenagers who seem like they’d be more interested dating each other.

Charlie Weasley

I really have no thoughts on Charlie. He raises dragons in Romania, the family loves him. Now, dragon raising feels like one of the most dangerous jobs in the Harry Potter universe, like Charlie had just gone and signed up to be a lumberjack but he seems to like it?

We really don’t see much of Charlie, he’s just the obligatory older Weasley son so that the Weasleys can be this ridiculously large family.

Bill Weasley

We see slightly more of Bill, but again, not enough to really leave an impression. We know that his marrying Fleur sent Molly into a complete state, and that they’re going to have awkward Christmas dinners forever because of it where Fleur just sits there and pretends not to loathe every second of Molly’s presence while Molly notes how bad it is that Victoire got stuck with that ugly pink hair instead of the Weasley red.

Bill doesn’t seem to really do anything about this. He still marries Fleur, but we don’t really see a major confrontation where he tells the family “Look, I’m marrying her, so grow up.” So, I imagine he just tries to smile pleasantly and tells Fleur to just endure it for another few hours. He loves his family, his family’s great, but they only have to see Fleur once a year at Christmas.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny is weird. She’s this weird, frankly, almost personality-less void whose sole obsession in life seems to be marrying Harry. She and Harry end up in the world’s weirdest relationship and I honestly have no idea how people ship it other than canon told them to.

Ginny’s... well, first off, she’s very much in love with an idea. She had always worshipped Harry Potter but then he personally saves her life in what was a horrifically traumatic year and so that feeling just grows even more. Despite being Ron’s sister, she barely seems to know Harry, and everything she seems to like about it are just things she made up.

I imagine her and Harry’s marriage will be littered with affairs on her end. Not divorce though, because Harry would never admit his wife is having affairs on him all the time even if someone directly confronted him. Harry also won’t admit he’s gay.

More than though we get hints of a personality. Ginny’s a fiery red-head tomboy with a temper. But... Well, it’s only ever hints. She never felt like a real person to me. She has I think one throwaway line about the Chamber of Secrets incident and how it personally affected her. We’re told she’s great at the bat boogey hex so we know she’s a fiery independent woman.

She feels more like a character sheet than an actual person.

Whenever she’s around I always had this nagging question in my head where I ask why Ginny’s here. She has a lot of potential but nothing’s ever done with her. And when something is, it’s to get her into this bizarre relationship with Harry where he imagines there’s a green rage monster in his chest that loves her skin.

Okay Harry, if you say so.

TL;DR: The Weasleys aren’t evil or anything, I’m not on Team Bash Them All, but they are shortsighted, ordinary, people who don’t deserve to be worshipped as all that is good in this world.

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honeyapplepi · 4 years ago

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Parallels From Another Life

warnings: angst, fluff, soulmate stuff, mentions of death, death, injury (tried not to be too descriptive)

in game au

a/n: was in the mood to write for sapnap and got this idea. This was way angstier than i planned, and i blame the fact that i was listening to taylor swift while writing it.

sapnap x gn!reader, james x gn!reader, mason x gn!reader

italics = flashbacks

masterlist (requests are open) | part two

You were baking like you did everyday. Though it was your job to do so. You owned a bakery in the small practically abandoned town. Despite the town being broke you made a fair share of money considering you fed them with your bread.

It was almost noon in the quiet town. You had sold all the bread you were going to today, so you decided to close the bakery. It wasn’t like any new people would arrive and if the bandits arrived you wouldn’t want them to think you were open.

You were upstairs in your home, that connected to your bakery, when you heard the sound of the bakery door opening. Your fault for not locking up, but no one comes in when it’s closed. You grabbed a sword from your chest and slowly walked down the stairs. When you reached the end and saw who was at the door you sighed and put down your sword.

“Mason? Shouldn’t you be out committing banditry?,” you asked smiling at him playfully. He smiled at you while walking up to your counter.

“You know that’s not all I do, right?,” Mason asked.

“Well, how would I know. It’s all I see you do,” you said to him.

“Well, if you went on that date with me you’d know I do more than just steal,” Mason responded. Mason had been wanting a date with you for almost as long as you’d know him and every time you’d reject him.

“Maybe in another life,” you smirked at him.

“Then I can’t wait for that life,” Mason said smiling at you. You rolled your eyes before offering him some bread like you do every time he comes over.

You didn’t live in the L’Manberg or the Dream Smp since you liked to keep out of all the wars, so you lived a little bit away in a smallish forest. You were tending to your garden when you heard footsteps that you recognized as Sapnap’s.

“Hello, Sapnap,” you said smiling to yourself, but not looking up from your garden.

“Y/N!,” Sapnap said greeting you excitedly like he did every time he saw you.

“What are doing here? Shouldn’t you be off setting things on fire and killing other people’s pets,” you said finally looking towards the brunette. He smiled walking towards you as you began towards your door with a basket filled with carrots.

“What? I can’t visit my dear friend, Y/N?,” Sapnap asked taking the basket from you and carrying it inside.

“It’s not that it’s that usually when you come over you end up asking me on a date and then I always reply...

“Maybe in another life. I know, but maybe one day i’ll ask and you’ll say yes and that “in another life” becomes “in this life”,” Sapnap said finishing the sentence for you.

You smiled at him. You did truly like him as much as he liked you, but with the wars and the constant conflict, and need for leverage any relationship that was romantic wasn’t exactly worth it. Especially when the person was so involved in the conflict and could die any moment.

You had known Sir Billium and his less rich friends for years. You had known Sir Billium since you were both children and James you had met at one of Billium’s part years ago. You and James were pretty close, but didn’t hang out too much since his wife wasn’t the biggest fan of you. That being because she thought James liked you and if anything it was the other way around.

You quietly entered the small mansion you were one of the last ones and despite everyone wearing a mask you managed to recognize them. Everyone except one person who seemed out of place. Once you said your hellos to Billium he introduced you to the newcomer. His name was Karl and when you said hello he gave you a weird look like he had known you for years.

The masquerade went on as planned even when a second unexpected guest came. And everything was fine until the lights flickered off. Everyone went to hide you following close behind James not wanting to lose him in the darkness. Once the lights were back on, it was revealed that the second unexpected guest, Drew, had died.

No one seemed bothered since no one cared for the poor, in money, man. The second time the lights flickered off you did the same following James once again. Afterwards it was revealed that it was Lyaria that was presumably murdered. The pattern continued on until the only ones left were you, Oliver, Billium, James, Karl, and the butler.

You planned to go with James and Oliver when the lights went off again, but found yourself lost in the mansion. You began walking through the dark mansion stopping when you tripped over something. You tried to get a look, but couldn’t because of the dark room.

“Hello?,” you heard a faint voice that you recognized as James’s.

“James? Are you okay!,” you said kneeling down to be near him.

“Y-yeah, i’m fine,” James said lying though you didn’t know that.

“Well, we should get help. I’ll go find Billium and Karl,” you said about to get up when you felt James’s hand on yours.

“Oh,” you said realizing what James’s fate would be. You sat back down next to him not letting go of his hand. You couldn’t see anything because it was dark, but you could feel his hand on yours. The two of you stayed silent not saying anything.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered. James didn’t respond in words, but you felt him pick up your hand and place a soft kiss on your knuckles. The lights flickered back on, and he was gone.

It was late at night when you heard a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone. but nonetheless you tiredly walked towards your door. Opening it you saw an injured Sapnap standing at your door. “hi,” he groaned.

“Oh, my god,” you said quickly helping sapnap inside and on your couch. You ran towards your bathroom getting what you needed to help him.

“What happened?,” You said as you hurriedly took a seat next to him and began to help him. You propped up his leg and began cleaning his injuries.

“Fight with Tommy,” Sapnap answered turning to look at you. You sighed and continued to tend to his wounds.

“You could’ve been hurt worse. You could’ve died,” you said starting to bandage him up.

“I know,” he answered softly. The two of you sat in silence even after you were done fixing him up. After you were done, you grabbed him a blanket and helped him lay down on your couch.

You sat down on the floor in front him and smiled softly. “You good, now?,” you asked. He just nodded clearly worn out from his fight.

“You gotta start being careful, because I really don’t wanna lose you,” you muttered softly as Sapnap drifted into a peaceful sleep. Well as peaceful as someone who almost died could be. You leaned in giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before walking back to your bedroom to sleep. You had always felt close to Sapnap almost as if you had known him for decades.

#sapnap x y/n #sapnap x reader #sapnap #tales of the smp #dream smp #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dream #dreamwas taken

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ichayalovesyou · 4 years ago

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TOS Crew-Phobias

Been thinking about And The Children Shall Lead and how the kids play on everyone’s inner Beast, and trying to decipher what fears each crew member may have based on what the children made them do and see.

The asterisk means it’s either an approximation because their fear is too specific, or if they had this fear they’ve since developed means of coping

James Kirk: Autophobia

Autophobia: Fear of being alone

I feel like this one’s pretty obvious. People tend to make the argument that the Enterprise (the ship itself) is Kirk’s overpowering true love, but I don’t think that’s it. It’s more the friends and the life that he’s made within The Enterprise that he’s terrified of losing. Some of the places we see Jim at his most upset and afraid in the series are when he feels he’s been abandoned or is forcibly (and seemingly permanently) separated from the crew. How visibly upset he is on the empty Enterprise in This Side of Paradise and The Mark of Gideon, lashing out at Spock when the crew reluctantly relieves him of duty in The Deadly Years, and his deep resentment toward Deela when she kidnaps him in Wink of An Eye. This is also further reinforced by his actions in Star Trek: The Motion Picture & The Search for Spock. He’s also one of the two characters (the other being Sulu) where his fear counts as an actual phobia and not a hypothetical phobia, ingrained personality trait, or symptom of Neurodivergence.

S’chn T’gai Spock: *OCD (fear of losing control)

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: Obsessive thoughts that lead to repetitive actions.

If anything what we might perceive as OCD-like (or at least Neurodivergent) behavior may be typical of the Vulcan condition. I don’t think Spock has OCD, or at least I don’t know enough about it to say for sure, but what came up whenever I looked up “fear of hurting others/losing control” it came up without fail. While we don’t actually get to see whatever is making Spock’s hand tremble, momentarily defy orders and act as though everything is fine. I think we can surmise that his Beast convinced him that following the order would somehow hurt Jim or that he would be possessed/controlled to do so. Operation: Annihilate, Amok Time, Plato’s Stepchildren and essentially Spock’s whole character arc prove this to be true.

Bones: *Hyper-Empathy/Thanatophobia

Thanatophobia: Fear of death, dying, watching others die and/or others watching you die

There is a headcanon that Dr. McCoy is autistic with the hyper-empathy symptom, meaning he has a really hard time watching others suffer. This may have been the reason he became a doctor in the first place, or became worse/was triggered by his father’s death. While not technically a phobia and we don’t see Bones face his Beast in ATCSL. Evidence from other episodes supports this, Miri, Metamorphosis, Plato’s Stepchildren, The Empath, and For The World is Hollow & I Have Touched The Sky all heavily support this.

Scotty-Astrophobia

Astrophobia: Fear of getting lost or dying in space

Seems like kind of a ridiculous fear for someone who builds, maintains, and lives starships to have right? Maybe, but if that is something he’s deeply afraid of, it would make his surpassing ability to make certain the ship doesn’t explode despite impossible odds make plenty of sense. I don’t think it’s space itself that freaks Scotty out, it’s the idea of being stuck out there and/or suffering the cold and grizzly death that is getting sucked out into space does. So he does everything in his power to ensure that never happens. Out of all the supporting characters, the events of the episode that sparked this post aside, Scotty seems to have the best handle on his fear, the most condemning evidence that he’s got Astrophobia occurs later in season 3. He freezes up in the Jeffrey’s Tube during delicate work in That Which Survives. As well as telling his love interest that being bone deep afraid that you’re going to die in the cold vacuum of space is a perfectly normal thing to constantly think about in Lights of Zetar. Still, he is uncommonly steely-eyed and level headed whenever he has the con, even in the face of his fear. I used to theorize that maybe he was afraid of failure/imperfection, but Scotty’s Jerry-Rigs and Duct-tape way of doing things doesn’t lend itself to that idea. What stuck out to me was his comment “we’ll all be lost, forever lost!” in And The Children Shall Lead that made me think Astrophobia would be a good fit.

Nyota Uhura-Nosophobia

Nosophobia: Fear of contracting deadly disease

Uhura’s fear seems to be dying a slow and painful death by disease, one where she is irrevocably physically/mentally altered by her suffering. There’s evidence for this when she sees the appeal of immortality in I, Mudd, and that she’s scared she’ll end up like Chekov in The Tholian Web. Nosophobia is not hypochondria (convincing yourself that you have a disease/compulsively self-diagnosing) or germaphobia (extreme fear of germs and sickness). Nosophobia is more long term, an irrational fear of things like cancer and Alzheimer’s and other such conditions as well as potentially deadly viruses. It seems to me that if Uhura were to die she’d rather it be quick and painless rather than endure that sort of battle.

Hikaru Sulu-Cleithrophobia

Cleithrophobia: Fear of being trapped

Again, someone I thought maybe was afraid of failure (afraid of failing by destroying the ship with the swords in ATCSL) before I picked up on a very interesting pattern I noticed from The Corbomite Maneuver. Sulu gets really fatalistic and/or agitated when it seems like he’s trapped with no way out. He hyper fixates on the countdown when their trapped and condemned to destruction by Balok in The Corbomite Maneuver, he makes dark jokes while trapped and freezing to death on the planet from The Enemy Within. He seizes up instead of fleeing or fighting the Law Givers in Return if The Archons, and even panics a little when they’re trapped by the giant hand in Who Mourns For Adonais (and usually Sulu is insanely chill under pressure). Cleithrophobia gets confused with Claustrophobia often, but Celthrophobia has much more emphasis on the trapped and no way out elements than just enclosed spaces. So him being terrified by being unable to move because it’s surrounded by swords actually makes a lot of sense! Honestly, I find it uniquely fitting that a flyboy with an enthusiasm for growing things would be agitated by places that do not allow growth or flight.

Pavel Chekov-Proditophobia (in reverse)

Proditophobia: Fear of betrayal

Proditophobia is the fear of being betrayed, but there is more evidence to suggest that Pavel is waaaaay more terrified of betraying or being disloyal rather than being the victim of that action. There’s certainly evidence for it in both The Trouble with Tribbles and Day of The Dove, where he is driven to act out violently on the behalf of those he feels deep loyalty towards, in his head, allowing someone else’s reputation to be trashed counts as disloyalty. And The Children Shall Lead also shows us, at least at this point in Chekov’s character development, he feels more loyalty to Starfleet than the Enterprise crew (something that certainly changes/evolves by the time the movies roll around). The case might even have been that he was all bark and no bite and really wasn’t actually going to kill his Captain or mentor, he was just hoping they’d believe him so that they’d go peacefully and he wouldn’t have to worry about betraying Starfleet at all. I used to think maybe he feared punishment or retribution, but he’d never break any rules if that were the case, and if I know anything about this feral gremlin of an Ensign, he’ll do that in a split second if someone questions his loyalty.

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thepartyresponsible · 3 years ago

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this soundtrack fill is for kittenlzlz, who i cannot tag because it’s all sabotage all the time over here. also, i'm sorry, i didn’t realize you’d changed your prompt until after i wrote this one, so this is for the first thing you sent in.

anyway, here’s some dystopian sci-fi angst for sam and bucky with a hopeful ending. the song for this one is “achilles come down” by gang of youth.

—

When he was young, Sam spent thirty-seven weeks in New Mexico, learning how to keep people alive until evac. That others may live was a motto they preferred to operationalize rather than idealize, and, without the EMT training, pararescue tended to turn into high-risk body retrieval. So he spent the better part of a year learning how to keep a body breathing, and he learned, also, how to recognize when any effort was likely to be wasted.

Which is how he knows that what he’s looking at isn’t fully human. Because a human would already be dead.

It’s the blood that tells him, more than anything else. The Chitauri bleed a thick, dark blue substance that goes black if their cybernetics are leaking. And there’s plenty of blue and black puddled on the asphalt, but that red is a hemoglobin gift, and that means it’s all human.

“Shit, man,” Sam says, crouching next to the only human at this massacre. “You could keep a blood bank in business all by yourself.”

The man lifts his head and blinks at him, slow and a little dazed. Not dazed enough, though. He can almost focus on Sam’s face. “Not anymore,” he says, after a beat.

More blood bubbles up at the corners of his mouth. Sam can see it between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Sam says. And he laughs, because he might as well. Because he came out here with a team of ten to clean out the aliens, and it looks like one guy did their work for them. “Guess not.”

He’s a pathetic sight, really. Ragged body armor, hair clumped together, skin sticky with blood and ichor. He’s belly down on the cracked parking lot, and there’s a smear of blood behind him, showing exactly how far he’s managed to drag himself.

Sam’s not excited about what he’s going to see, when he rolls this guy over on his back.

“You gonna fight me if I help you?” he asks.

Most of them, these Enhanced, the surviving Super Soldiers, they can’t help it. Sam’s had to put a few down himself, although not for a while now. It’s been almost a year since he had to kill anything with a human face.

The man sighs. He rests his forehead against the asphalt, closes his eyes. His fingers flex and then go still. “I don’t know,” he says.

That others may live, Sam thinks. But the problem has always been that lives are balanced on both sides of the scales, and, sometimes, saving one means sacrificing another.

This man killed fifteen Chitauri, and he did it alone. There are kids back at the base. Vulnerable people.

The safest choice would be to leave him here. Let him save himself, if he can. But Sam’s never really been the safe choice type.

“Okay,” he says, hands curling around his shoulders, carefully rolling the man over on his back, “let’s see the damage.”

It’s enough to kill a human. But that’s not really what he’s dealing with.

—

The Super Soldiers were a desperation play. Sam was supposed to be one of them. The best of Earth’s fighters, dosed with serum, patched up with cybernetics based on Chitauri tech, sent out to face the enemies that had invaded the planet.

Sam’s still not sure exactly how it happened, what level of their defenses failed. He only knows failure by its consequences.

The neural implants were hacked. The soldiers turned against their people. Sam, who’d been four days out from his own procedure, was shifted to a team tasked with hunting them down and eliminating them.

These days, there aren’t many left. There’s not much of anyone left. The Chitauri fundamentally misunderstood their target. Sam could’ve warned them. The species of mutually assured destruction was never going to die quiet.

He thinks about that while the Soldier sleeps, chained to a bed in a locked basement in an abandoned building two miles from the base. Sam keeps watch. He has a radio in case anything goes wrong, but he doesn’t intend to use it for anything other than warning them what’s coming.

“I could’ve been you,” Sam tells him. And then, smiling at nothing, shaking his head, “Hell, you could’ve been me.”

He wonders where he’s from. He wonders what his name is.

He wonders, when he can’t help it, what he did. If he ever killed anyone Sam used to know.

—

The Soldier sleeps for forty hours and then sits straight up in bed, rips the chains off his wrists like they’re pipe cleaners, and then turns to face Sam. “What the hell,” he says.

“Oh, well,” Sam says, too startled to be afraid. “Didn’t want anyone stealing you.”

The Soldiers makes a face at him, an incredulous sneer that twists up his mouth and pulls his dark eyebrows together, and he looks so human, so perfectly skeptical, that Sam starts laughing.

“Well,” he says, with a shrug, “you killed fifteen aliens with a tire iron. You’re a treasure.”

“And I want it back.” he says, immediately. “Where’s my tire iron?”

“Confiscated,” Sam says.

He glares, and Sam‘s probably meant to be intimidated, but he knows – they both know – that, if this guy wanted to scare Sam, he could just start breaking bones. Or walls. “I want it back when I leave.”

“Leave,” Sam repeats. He kicks back in his chair, balances on the back legs as he swings his feet up onto the Soldier’s bed. “Why’re you leaving?”

The Soldier stares at Sam’s booted feet near his knees. “Usually it’s the fact that I’m a timebomb that chases me off,” he says, “but it looks like your manners are the real horrorshow around here.”

Sam grins at him. He’s merciless about it, uses the most charming smile in his arsenal. He expects the guy to soften a bit, but he’s not expecting the doubletake he gets, the there-and-away bounce of his stare, like Sam’s suddenly something he wants to look at but doesn’t want to get caught looking at.

Huh, he thinks.

“When’s the last time you hurt someone?” Sam asks.

The Soldier’s face crumples up and then flattens out. “What is this? Some kinda trial? An interrogation?”

“If this were an interrogation, I wouldn’t’ve given you the soft pillows,” Sam tells him.

The Soldier doesn’t look like he buys it. But, after a moment, he tips his head to the side. “Probably wouldn’t want to get blood on these white sheets,” he acknowledges.

“Christ,” Sam says, because that more or less seems to be the only thing he could possibly say to something like that.

The Soldier shrugs. He brushes his hair away from his face, blinks, and gives Sam a skeptical sideways stare. “Did you wash my hair?”

“With a firehose,” Sam confirms. “Damn near shaved the whole thing off. You were a mess, man.”

He shrugs. “It’s messy work.”

And, sure, it is. Sam knows. His base is the first resettlement outpost in this region. They’ve been clearing Chitauri out of the area for months.

But he still takes a damn shower whenever possible.

“Who were you?” Sam asks. “Before the program?”

The Soldier looks away. Looks at nothing. After a long pause, he recites, careful and rote, “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. 107th.”

“Okay,” Sam says. “James. When’s the last time you hurt a human being?”

He worries at his lower lip, teeth pressing into the skin. He’s quiet for a very long time. “Thirteen months, ten days,” he says, finally.

Sam considers the timeline. “You think it’s over?”

“I think the implant’s in my fucking brain,” he says. “It’ll be over at brain death.”

“It’s just a chip,” Sam says. “It’s not sentient. Someone’s gotta send the message, right?”

The Soldier’s jaw works. “Even if the aliens stay out, there’s gonna be plenty of people who want to use someone like me, as soon as they rebuild enough to manage.”

It’s a hell of thing, and it could’ve been Sam.

He nudges the Soldier’s knee with his boot, and the Soldier stares at the point of contact. He doesn’t look angry anymore. If Sam had to use a word to describe the expression on the Soldier’s face, he thinks he’d use something bittersweet and barbed, something like lonely or longing.

“Gonna be a long damn time before anyone’s rebuilt,” he says.

“Aliens could have reinforcements here at any time,” the Soldier says.

“Maybe,” Sam says, although he thinks they might’ve learned some kind of lesson. At the very least, they’ve probably learned that it’s just not worth the effort.

“Look,” Sam says. “I think you should come back to the base.”

“No,” he says. Immediate and definite, louder then he’s been so far.

Sam expected it. Maybe part of him hoped for it. “Okay,” he says. “Then we’ll stay here. And, when you’re better, I want you to take a radio. And I want you to check in with us. All right? Every day.”

The Soldier stares at him. “Why the hell would you want that?”

Sam smiles, studies the hollows of the Soldier’s face, the scars, the freckles he must’ve earned when he was young, used to play too long in the sun. He has, Sam thinks, beautiful eyes. “There’s not a lot of us left,” he says.

“‘Us,’” the Soldier repeats, scoffing audibly.

“Us,” Sam repeats. He nudges the Soldier’s knee again, and the Soldier cuts his eyes away, glares at the wall. But, a moment later, he shifts, leans his knee into Sam.

—

His name is Bucky Barnes. He’s fussy as hell, stubborn beyond belief, helpful every chance he can get, and fond of cats and songbirds. He doesn’t cheat at cards, and he doesn’t accuse Sam of it either, even when Sam beats him damn near every hand.

He’s a good man. Even now.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Sam says. Because it’s been two weeks, and Bucky’s decided he’s well enough to go.

Bucky ducks his head. “Shut up,” he says.

Sam wonders if he was always this head shy about affection.

“C’mere,” he says. “I’ll give you a goodbye kiss.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, practically scuttling away, head still ducked. When he raises it, he’s grinning one of his ghost grins, the ones that almost show who he used to be, like a faint echo of a louder, happier man.

“Okay,” Sam says. “But if I don’t get a goodbye kiss, I’m definitely not gonna talk dirty to you on that radio. You gotta put in the work, Bucky.”

“I hate you,” Bucky tells him, and his crush couldn’t be more obvious. Sam would be embarrassed for him, if he weren’t busy being charmed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says. “Check in every day, or I’m gonna track you down.”

“Hm,” Bucky says. He adjusts his pack on his shoulders. He’s got that tire iron, an alarming number of knives, and two guns. He’s setting off to kill more aliens. He’s going alone. “That supposed to be a threat?”

He was a Barnes in the Army and Sam was a Wilson in the Air Force, and so Bucky is a Super Soldier and Sam is not. It’s unpredictable, sometimes, the way mercy falls.

“Be careful out there,” Sam says, and he knocks his elbow against Bucky’s.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He rolls his eyes and then catches Sam watching, and he blinks, falters. “Yeah,” he says, again. Softer, steadier. A promise, not a joke.

Sam considers him, lets the moment hang. Waits. Sometimes, all Bucky needs is the space and time to make up his own mind.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Bucky says.

“There it is,” Sam says, grinning, almost crowing in triumphant. “There--”

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes again, getting theatrical about it. “I already regret saying it.”

“Can’t take it back,” Sam taunts, grinning wide and smug.

“I’m going,” Bucky says, and he starts off, doesn’t look back.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam calls, when Bucky’s just about to break through the treeline, disappear into the woods. “I hate to see you go, but I love----”

“Fuck off, Sam!” Bucky says, but he’s laughing, and Sam can still hear it – surprised and happy, fully human – even after Bucky disappears.

#writing #soundtrack fills

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originalwinnercheesecake · 4 years ago

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Parabatai bond Essay... Why they may all be destined to end

Parabatai: defined by Cassandra Clare as a rare intense where a pare of warriors connect/bond in childhood and then decide to knit their souls together so that they can always stay together and always carry a piece of the other inside them. Defined by the fandom as “ a type of (supposedly) platonic marriage”. Cassandra Clare also wants to claim it as a type of bond that is unique to the shadow world, but honestly I can name several pair of Parabatai all across different media’s. Just looking at early 2000′s children's anime and Disney esqu movies we have Ash/Pikachu, Yugi Muto/the Pharaoh, Hiccup/Toothless, Woody/Buzz, etc...

... If you share my taste in these media’s you probably noticed that of the 4 other series “Parabatai” I listed 3 out of 4 (Ash and Pikachu are still partners right?) have to split off from the other due to changes of destiny/life. This is also the case for man,y many parabatai in The Shadowhunter Chronicles. Sounding off pairs that are important enough for me to care about underneath

Jonathan Shadowhunter/David the Silent: Let’s began at the beginning. Jonathan Shadowhunter was the first ever Shadowhunter. His favorite person in the world was his companion David, who wasn’t as much of a fighter as Jonathan but was very smart and very good at keeping Jonathan grounded when necessary. After being traumatized by a greater demon when fighting alone one da, David gave up fighting (and speaking), and became the first ever silent brother. The story said this broke their bond and broke Jonathan down to tears. I am sure David still loved him though. David could have chosen to go back to being a mundane but instead chose to undergo the rituals to turn himself into a silent brother. David was never that into fighting/war. Everything he did he did out of love for Johnathan. When David was no longer able to be there for Jonathan as a solider, he found a new way as a Silent Brother.

Robert Lightwood/ Michael Wayland: Parabatai and joined at the hip as teenagers. When Michael confessed to having romantic feelings towards Robert confusion as to his own feelings and fears surrounded by change drove Robert to reject Michael in a cruel and harsh way. Their bond is officially severed after the uprising when Michael die,s and Robert is exiled. Decades later Robert still regards hurting Michael as the biggest mistake in his life, the persist moment when he lost faith in himself. It is only after he confesses to his oldest child what he did and how it still haunts him all these years, only after he is finally able to acknowledge within himself the importance of the memories he has of Michael, that Robert is able to finally turn his life around for the better.

Valentine Morgenstern/ Lucian Greymark: Parabatai while studying at the academy, and for a few years afterwards. When Luke started to doubt Valentine’s plans, Valentine took him to be ambushed by a pack of feral werewolves hoping Luke would be killed instead Luke was turned. After this Valentine and Luke became bitter enemy's. These two men who once had so much love for the other, now swore to destroy any plan the other had and would fight with the intent to kill upon seeing he other. Despite all this bad blood, both still loved the memories of who the other used to be, and it is implied that a lot of their hatred for who the other is now is born from grief over they Parabatai they lost.

William Herondale/James Carstairs: CC’s closest Parabatai pair. Both Will and Jem had their whole lives shattered by demons when they were just children, and afterwards questioned at times if it was still really had much of a reason to carry on. Then they met each other and decided that they had to carry on because they loved the other to much to leave them alone. These two are in a way echo’s of Jonathan and David, and like David Jem joins the brotherhood when it is no longer possible for him to stay with Will and Tessa as a shadowhunter. They lose the bonds, but keep their love for each other. Will calls silent city on a daily basis with some excuse for needing Brother Zachariah, and Jem faithfully answers every call.

Julian Backthorn/Emma Carstairs: Fall in love, turn into Giant “true Shadowhunters”. Their bond is severed when their runes are burned off by heavenly fire coursing though their veins. By this time though their relationship had already changed from a platonic one to a romantic one.

James Herondale/ Matthew Fairchild: The two that unquestionably love each other, but do not always love the others choices. As Parabatai they try to reach out to the other and help them. But both boys deal with so much and have trouble recognizing/excepting help when it when offered. Matthew is more aware of James issues than James is of Mathews, All though by the end of Chain of Iron even Matthew is at lose to understand James. James for his part only just starts to realize how sick Matthew may be. There are a lot of theories floating around that Matthew may being to sick to function as/ protect himself as a shadowhunter. With so much to recover from will their Parabatai bond last, or are they destined to seperate?

Cordelia Carstairs/ Lucie Herondale: The will they-won’t they pair. They have planed o one day become Parabatai since they were little girls, but have never gotten around to it. They are both nearly adults now and the story already seems to be puling them in opposite direction, so a lot of people now doubt that they will even make it to the ceremony.

Jace Herondale/ Alexander Lightwood: CC’ first pair of Parabatai, and so far the only pair to keep their bond for the whole series. Like seriously even when Jace died, he came back with the bond intact and Alec reporting that he only felt a little off for a few minutes. CC’s newest reasoning behind that is that there is apparently a delay time between one parabatai dying and the bond severing, and Jace came back before his and Alec’s had time to do more than fray at the edges. So that means that our boys stayed tethered together even when Jace was on his way to the afterlife. WOW (keep this reason CC, it actually kinda works). Jace and Alec’s bond has lasted the longest, but we still have 4 more books where something bad can happen to one of them, and they are now fighting in 2 wars at once.

Clary Fairchild/ SImon Lovelace: became Parabatai in between series, after both failing as a couple, and Simon going through multiple species changes. They are still parabatai in the most recent book but, like with Jace and Alec, we still have 4 future books that could change in. Clary, Jace, and Simon are CC’s three original main characters. She claims that the plan is to wrap up the Shadowhunter Chronicles for good in The Wicked Powers. What is the likelihood that she will leave all three of her original mains alive. I mean Clary already had a vision where “a version of herself” died, and Simon was originally supposed to die in COHF, but CC’s friends begged her to let him live.

While CC claims that Parabatai are rare in her universe, what seems to actually be rare is Parabatai staying bonded throughout the pairs lives. Why is that? Well lets remember that one of the rules for Parabatai is that they must meet and be bonded during childhood, Once they become adults they are no longer eligible. A fact of growing up is that lives and people change: We make friends, we love our friends,are there for them while we can be, and yet sometimes as we grow friends part ways. People die, they move away, or just grow apart. Memories of old friends and places we all used to hang out become beloved memories of being younger. During a time in our lives when we felt more innocent and care free. A time that sadly never lasts. In conclusion to why parabatai bonds tend to break parabatai could represent the close bonds of childhood, the friends who helped you grow into an adult, and some one who you are able to treasure your memories of as an adult, even if, due to circumstance, you no longer see that person as much or at all. Value your parabatai because you don’t know how long you will actually have them

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derailedfiction · 4 years ago

Text

The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader | James Barnes & Fem!Reader

Word count: 6764

Warnigns: smut, a bit of swearing

Summary: After John Walker's outburst, Reader.and the boys ™️ follow a promising lead of a certain doctor.

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE :D enjoy <3

tag list: @sea-murai you’re my smut queen

What a mess, you thought replaying in your head over, and over again how the poor man was decapitated. You returned to the empty apartment and made yourself a drink, which you drank at the spot and immediately you refilled empty glass. You looked at the amber liquid pensive. It was not the first time you saw somebody getting killed but the brutality of the act itself and the direct publicity it had from the very start, made you feel sick.

With heavy sight, you sat down on the sofa and closed your eyes. It was not the only haunting thought that was in your mind. The kiss. You suspected he did it to play with you, but you could not stop feeling his lips upon yours. How gentle and soft they were and Zemo’s gloved hand lightly caressing your chin as you succumbed to his actions.

What a nonsense, you thought and took away your own fingers that tried to trace his touch on your lips. But it was a pleasant nonsense, and you did not really want to let it go.

“Still here?” you heard Sam as he walked in. “Your great prize just escaped; you’re not following him?”

“Kein Problem, Sam. Ich verfolge ihm, [Not a problem, Sam. I’m tracking him,]” you answered him opening your eyes.

They both looked like they have been through hell. Weary, bruised up with some cuts on faces, but somehow victorious as you spotted the shield in Sam’s hands, still wearing some marks of blood on its surface.

“We must think what to do with Walker, he clearly snapped,” Bucky said as he was taking off his gear. “It’s hard to deal with what he’s done to the shield.”

That sounded way more accusatory than it supposed to be, and you saw Sam slightly tensing his jawline, listening to Bucky. It was something that you were used to, as James would from time to time throw such punchlines toward Sam, and how he has treated the shield.

You got up and went for the first aid kit, which still was in bathroom after Zemo helped you with taking out the bullet. You heard them heatedly arguing back in the room, so you grabbed the kit and went back.

“Sitz [Sit,]” you ordered James showing him the chair, and surprisingly he obliged. You then took a swab with sanitizer and tried to clean his face cuts, but he retreated catching your hand. “Komm jetzt, es wird nur für einen Moment kneifen [Come now, it’ll pinch only for a moment,]“

He let your hand go, rather unconvinced and allowed you to continue with the procedure.

“Sie mussen ihm neutraliziren. [You have to neutralize him.]” you referred to what they were arguing about, whilst cleaning James’ nose cut. “Er kann nicht ein Super-Soldat sein. Das ist zu gefährlich. [He can’t be a super soldier. It’s too dangerous.]”

“Well, that’s out of the question,” James answered with sigh.

“Yeah, but how do you want to take down a bloody murderer? It’s not like we can burst into his house and handcuff him, man,” Sam stood looking at the two of you, with crossed arms. “He’s a straight up killer, a super killer. He won’t go easy, especially as something broke in him.”

“I have told you something was not alright about him,” with nod you agreed to what Bucky has said.

“Warum hat er diesen Mann getötet? Was ist passiert? [Why did he kill that man? What has happened?]” you asked.

“Lemar, his partner died in action. It was actually Karli that pushed him into the wall, but Walker set his mind on that man,” you stood silent for a longer while, thinking intensively about something. In the meantime you let James to go, as you finished with cleaning of his cuts and invited Sam to take his place.

“Ich kenne eine Frau, sie ist eine Wissenschaftlerin und sie hatte an dem Super-Soldat Serum und einer Art Gegenmittel gearbeitet. [I know a woman. She’s a scientist and she worked on the super soldier serum and some kind of antidote.]”

“Really? – Nicht bewegen, [Don’t move,]” Sam looked at you as Bucky explained him what you have said. You found it utterly irritating and hard to tend his head cut as he moved all the time.

“Nun, ich kenne sie nicht persönlich, aber ich weiß, dass es diesen Wissenschaftler gibt, der versucht, die Wirkung des Serums umzukehren. [Well, I don't know her personally, but I do know that there is this scientist who is trying to reverse the effects of the serum,]” you took your time washing the wounds and bruised lip.

Only when you finished, you cleaned up and put the rest of the things back into the first aid kit. Then you took out your laptop and started looking for some useful information.

“Don’t you think is worth a shot?” Bucky asked Sam, who wasn’t that convinced to your idea. He didn’t trust you and you could not blame him for that. Especially, as you let Zemo escape their custody.

“Do we have other option? We should try this, it’ll be easier to do something with him, when he’s not a super soldier,” you felt Sam’s glances as he has spoken with James. “But still, I don’t trust her that much to do as she proposes.”

“For a bit we’re stuck with her,” they both stopped talking to look at you, working on the computer. You paused and looked back at them.

“Was? [What?]” you tilted your head and returned to your work.

“Anyway, we try to find this scientist and then we go back to States. I’m done with Europe for a while.”

“Mags du die offiziele Treffen? [Do you like official meetings?]”, you closed laptop and approached men. “[I know you have enough of Europe, but we’ll be here for a bit longer. In two days, there’s an annual meeting of scientist. What very little people know that it is also an annual convention of all sorts of medical freaks.]”

“Where is it?”

“Come sta il tuo gentiluomo italiano? Andiamo a Venezia. [How is your Italian? We are going to Venice],” you asked them with disarming smile as you saw confusion on their faces.

“How many languages do you know, woman?” Sam was highly shocked considering your ability to change languages so easily.

“A lot,” you smiled cheekily answering him in the purest English, much to his dismay.

***

“Do we have to go through the plan again?” you growled under your nose, hesitantly getting up from the bed you sat on.

You arrived in Venice in the early morning, when the whole city was still asleep. The three of you took that opportunity to do a short reconnaissance in front of the opera where later that day, the event was to be held. A square in front of it was rather small but provided enough space to set an observation station. You really hoped for a moment free to go and visit a bit more of the city you haven’t seen for a long time. Unfortunately, during the day you were seated in the nearby café as Sam and James went inside.

“Bucky and I go inside, and we try to find this doctor of yours. You Y/N, will be a watch-out in the nearby,” James looked at you for a moment, thinking about something.

“Can you tell me again, why you can’t go inside with us?”

“Wie ich Ihnen bereits sagte, wünschen mir einige Leute dort den Tod, [As I told you, some of the people there wish me dead,]“ you shook your head lightly. “So, denke ich, das ist keine gute Idee für mich in zu gehen. Jeder würde wissen, dass etwas lost ist. [So, I think it’s not a good idea for me to go in. Everybody would know something is going on.]”

James was visibly tormented by the idea of you doing things on your own.

“Es ist in Ordnung, ich verstehe dich und dass du mir nicht vertraust, James. [That’s alright, I understand you and that you don’t trust me, James,]” you gently put your hand on his arm. “Aber wir haben keine anderen Lösungen [But we don’t have any other options,]“ he sighed as he knew there was no other idea and that was your best shot so far.

“Right, but how do we get in there? We don’t even have clothes or anything?”

You smiled broadly as you were waiting for this question. You went to the phone and dialed a number, “Sie werden hinreißend aussehen, [You’ll look ravishing,]” you winked at them and started talking on the phone.

Within an hour, you were gaily sitting in a comfortable chair, slowly drinking your second mimosa and simply enjoying the view. Sam and James were trying on their tuxedos for the evening, which was truly captivating activity as you could look at two well-built men in smart clothes.

“Is it me or Y/N enjoys this a bit too much?” Sam turned around to see himself in the mirror.

“Ja, ich genieße die Aussicht, [Yes, I do enjoy the view,]” you smiled and raised your glass to toast and finished off the drink, which was immediately refilled.

Bucky stood silently in his dark-blue velvet jacket and you could have sworn he was mumbling something about you acting like Zemo.

“Komm schon Jungs, du muss anständig aussehen, um in die Oper zu gehen, [Come on boys, you have to look decent to go to the opera,]” the tailor took the last measurements from Sam and invited Bucky to stand on a low step.

“Ah, James, du siehst absolut schneidig aus [James, you look absolutely dashing],” you complimented the man as the dark shade of blue looked absolutely mesmerizing on him. “Du auch siehst absolut schneidig aus, Sam,” what was more to say, you simply took pleasure in both, observing them in those fancy clothes and how miserable they were at the same time.

“Aren’t you getting ready?” Sam asked, looking at himself in the mirror one more time. You sensed that he actually liked being dressed like this.

“Ja, aber ich bin schon bereit, schau. [Yes, but I’m already ready, look,]” with your free hand you pointed to a hanger with long, evening dress in your favourite colour, next to which stood high-heels.

As you finished your last drink, you got up from the armchair and spoke to the tailor, who informed you that there, is need only for small changes and outfits would be ready within two hours. You smiled to him and left the room with the dress and shoes to get ready.

It was not your first time to be a watch out but what concerned you the most about this evening, was the fact that you still had the Powerbroker’s men after you. The odds were rather unlikely for them to come but they were not zero. Then again, you did not really owe anything to James or Bucky, to stay and to help them here or to go after Walker and neutralize his super soldier abilities.

You looked at your reflection in a mirror, carefully observing how the fabric of the dress draped over your body. The sleeves were of right length to nicely cover the bandage on your arm. It was a simple, evening dress as many others, but it had something in it that made you checking-out yourself for a longer moment. Was it the cleavage, not revealing yet complementing your breasts? Or maybe a nicely cut waist, hugging your body well-fitted? You did not really know, and it did not bother you. The effect was stunning, and you loved it. It was a perfect camouflage for your position. Being in that dress allowed you to look as one of the guests, who casually went outside to smoke and was about to go back. The only thing that didn’t go well with this outfit was your purple black eye from the other day, but what make-up cannot solve?

It took you a bit longer than you wished but you managed to cover the bruised area with an evening look. As you finished the last touches of your gala outfit you took out two boxes with the equipment you got from a friendly smuggler you knew from the past.

“So, I brought some good stuff,” you said as you returned to the boys and put first small box on the table.

“She speaks,” escaped from Sam’s mouth. And it was not the only sense that was shocked as his eyes were wandering on your figure, as much as James’s. “You look really nice.”

“Yes, I do,” you replied in such way on purpose, so he had to think about it. You opened the box revealing small earplugs. “We’ll communicate through them. It’s so small nobody will notice it,” you handed one for each of them and put one in your ear.

“Why now?” Sam was still inquiring about your magical ability to speak English, all of sudden.

“I thought it would be easier if both of you would understand me, not just James,” you answered him. “And honestly, gentleman you should consider wearing suits more often… They really suit you.” Sam was visibly flattered by your compliment, while James mumbled something again. “Do you want to go over the plan again?”

“I think we’re good. You’re observing, we’re inside looking for your doctor. We get needed information and head out,” Sam summed up shortly, as you took out invitation. “Only one?”

“Yeah, you’re going as a pair. Settle between who is who’s one plus,” you handed him the piece of paper with grin. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I preferred when you spoke German at least I didn’t understand you,” he sighed heavily. You lightly shrugged your arms and turned on a little screen, which was showing halls of the opera house from different angles. You wrinkled your nose lightly observing one of the video.

“What?” you heard Bucky over your shoulder, standing behind.

“Nothing, I just spotted a bar I want to invade before we begin,” you answered him and turned off the device.

“How professional,” Sam snorted.

“Come now, darling,” you smiled blissfully and grabbing their arms as you were leaving the apartment. “What can go wrong?”

***

As you soon found out quite a lot of things could have gone wrong, starting with your high-heels and Venetian pavement that was not co-operating with them to finish with a bottle of not-so-cold champagne you have hoped for.

“How is it going?” you asked through the earplug, observing incoming wave of smart-clothed people.

“So far, so good,” you heard Sam and you saw him with a drink in a hand, “How does our target will look like?”

“Tall, blonde, she’ll be probably with a cane. She had some sorts of accident and can’t walk without it,” you replied smiling to the passing by couple, “She should be easy to spot. Please, don’t scare her.” Sam let a short laugh.

“Well then, let’s get to it,” James was rather tensed, observing guests coming in.

“You should go and take your seats, the play is about to start.”

“What?” they asked simultaneously.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you smiled to yourself, seeing their distressed faces in camera, “As a treat for guests, you’ll be able to see one of the finest version of Don Jovanni. Enjoy gentlemen –”

And you lost sound at that moment, you could have seen they were saying something to you but it was just lost.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

What a piece of shit, you thought taking out the comm and gently hitting it in order to work.

“Hello?”

“Problems in paradise?” a familiar voice, you thought you won’t hear for a time, asked as you turned around to see Zemo standing in the shadows like a common creep.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re doing perfectly well,” you said, observing the entrance. Quite a lot of people were still going in, even though the opera has already started. “I’m surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“I got a little bit bored, and I decided to come back,” Zemo said, walking up to you slowly.

“Don’t tell me you missed Sam or James’s company?” you scoffed him with a smile just in the corner of your lips.

“I missed your company Y/N, if I may speak freely,” you raised your eyebrow at his words. Zemo stopped next to you and observed the façade of the opera house. “It’s quite a crowd, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. I never liked those official meetings, really. The only one good thing about such parties is this,” you showed him a bottle of champagne you took earlier from the opera’s kitchen. “Want some? But I warn you, I don’t have any fancy glasses, so we have to drink straight from the bottle,” you drank from it and passed the alcohol to Zemo, which he gladly accepted.

“Are our mutual friend inside?” you nodded. “How did you make them go inside?”

“It wasn’t that hard, really,” he was standing with such close proximity, you had no problem with smelling his cologne nor with feeling his warmth. “Is it your doings that our communication is jammed?”

Zemo smiled innocently and pretended to turn the key against his mouth, “I know nothing of such thing, Y/N. But then again, we wouldn’t have had this opportunity to talk freely.”

“And you came, God knows from where, just to talk with me?” he opened his arms and shrugged them.

“Night is still young, and you don’t have to stand here waiting for them to return. They’re big boys,” he took the liberty to caress your neck skin as he spoke, giving you shivers along the spine.

“What we do here is important, Zemo,” you slowly turned your gaze upon him. “Honestly, I don’t really want to see any more dead bodies caused by this man.” You lazily leaned towards him, occasionally glancing at his lips. So, tempting to try them one more time.

“I can see that, Y/N,” Zemo answered in low whisper, still caressing your neck.

You moved even closer to the man and just inches before his mouth, you paused and said, “Give me back champagne.”

You saw how his face shifted as he gave you a short smirk along the bottle, from which you took another sip.

“So, hypothetically, where would you want to go, Zemo?” you asked, enjoying the sensation of his gloved hand against your skin.

“Hypothetically, there is a little hotel, not that far from here where, hypothetically, I have an apartment – Of course, you have – where we can go and talk,” you rose your eyebrow as he took his hand away and took of his signature coat to put it around your shoulders. “It’s rather chilly.”

“What a chivalry of yours, Zemo,” you stated, even though you accepted it with quite a pleasure, “Shall we go?” As for a true gentleman, hidden under a mask of a terrorist, he offered you his arm, which you gladly took.

The two of you went for a relatively short stroll, which raised questions you wanted to ask, how on earth he found out about this event and that you will be there, but you just let it go.

You shook your head for his proposition of a drink as you reached the apartment, you felt a little bit light-headed after the champagne and wanted to make a pause. You nonchalantly slipped the coat on an armchair and sat down on a small sofa.

“Well, you can now tell me why are you back? I mean, you had a clear way of escaping and be free as wind,” you pressed your lips tight, and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer you. He poured you two drinks and handed one to you even though you didn’t want any.

Just as soon as he sat down, he started, “It might sound strange, but I wanted to spend some time with a person who will not try to kill me.” You smiled to your whiskey and sipped a little of it, “And as much as I enjoyed co-operating with Sam and James, it was tiring after a while to look over your shoulder.”

You raised your eyebrow in amusement. It was the very Baron Zemo who just said, he must have looked if there was anyone wanting to stab him. You found that hilarious and couldn’t prevent a silent laugh.

“I must say, Zemo, that sounds rather funny, being said by you.”

“Why? Because I know my way out of any situation, even if it demands some stabbing?” he looked at you, gently smiling.

“Precisely,” you narrowed your eyes, observing him. In this dim light and with that smile on his lips he seemed to be quite relaxed and peaceful. A rare view for anyone watching. “You know what, I missed our little talks like that.”

“I’ll drink to that, Y/N.”

You observed him for a moment, urging to ask a burning question that you carried since the beginning of your reunion, “How do you feel?”

He stopped drinking and looked at you surprised, “Ravishing, what do you mean?”

“You perfectly know, what do I mean, Baron,” you slowly took another sip of the drink, “You know, you were severely depressed in the jail, so obviously I’m a little bit concerned how do you feel now. You wanted to kill yourself, Zemo. It doesn’t happen just like that,” you snapped your fingers, looking expectantly at him.

“If that will ease your mind upon this matter, I went through the therapy during my incarnation,” he looked at the peaceful night through the window. “ – and it helped for a certain extend.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Zemo. I really am,” you smiled lightly and finished your drink. “You want a refill?” You stood up from your armchair and took his glass, as you headed for the bar. “Same or you want to change for something else?”

“The usual,” you snorted and poured him whiskey.

“So,” you started, handing Zemo his glass back, “shall we speak about something a bit more cheerful?”

As the two of you engaged into conversation, the time passed by unnoticed. You must have admitted that Zemo was a delightful chat partner as he could talk about literary everything starting from political matters and literature to what knife would be the best for a hand-to-hand combat. It was that kind of dispute which was challenging you and yet allowed you to carry it on effortlessly.

Your engagement in conversation with Zemo, reminded you how the two of you had similar talks when he was in German prison. You were quite proud of yourself when you successfully infiltrated that prison posing as a trauma counsellor. There was no real therapy, but it allowed you to plan and implement the escape. Though, now you could see much more emotions and freedom in his talking and way of acting. You found it enjoyable to observe him a bit more alive than he used to be.

At one moment you were standing and slowly dancing to the music played from a gramophone and it was quite blurry for you to recall who came up with this idea. But it was pleasurable when you felt his arm gently resting around your waist as the other supported your hand, even though both of you had some percentages in blood. You were slowly rocking across the room, trying to avoid sneaky furniture that would appear out of nowhere, to your disapproval.

“Maybe it’s best if we sit for now, we’re not the best dancers after this amount of alcohol,” you led Zemo by his hand to the sofa, on which you sat down.

“You look lovely in this dress, Y/N.”

“I know, thank you,” you gave him a cheeky smile, much to his amusement.

“You know what…”

“Are you going to tell me it would look better on the floor?” you interrupted, and Zemo chuckled in response.

“Only if you want to, Y/N,” you shifted on the sofa to move a bit closer towards him.

“What do you want, then?”

“You,” this simple response made you astonished, uncertain what to say.

“Is this drunken you speaking, or real you?” your fingers started slowly caressing the back of his hand, in anticipation of Zemo’s answer.

“What would you like me to be?” you lightly shook your head.

“Does it really matter?” you asked, not really knowing whether you were asking yourself or Zemo. Before he could answer you in any way, you placed a short, uncertain kiss on the man’s lips, which was followed by much longer and needy one. You wanted to retreat after this, to think about it but Zemo’s hand in your hair prevented it sufficiently and pulled you back for another kiss, heated and passionate.

You felt the zip of your dress going down and as you leaned in the kiss, the material slide off revealing your shoulders. You pushed him gently on the sofa seat and comfortably nested yourself on Zemo. Your fingers were tenderly stroking his hair as your kiss became deeper and sweeter with each passing second.

His lips slipped from yours to your jawline and neck leaving trail of messy kisses, each of it awarded by your soft moan. You felt as if you were melting under every single touch, stroke or nip left on your skin.

“Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?” he asked into your neck, kissing it possessively.

“After you, Helmut,” you placed another peck in the corner of his lips and sat up.

Baron swiftly got up and offered his hand to lead you to the bedroom, where he took his time stripping you out of the dress, along saying how much he admired you and your body. As your apparel hit the floor, it revealed you were wearing no lingerie.

“Y/N,” Zemo chucked huskily, grabbing you by your waist and turning around to see you, “You’re full of surprises, my dear.”

You rested your forearms on his chest observing how his eyes brightened. Your fingers played with the collar of the man’s shirt before leaning in for another kiss, which he tenderly gave you.

“Why am I the only one undressed?” you softly purred, revelling in his gentle strokes. You moved your hands to ably undo his belt and shoulder holster, which were now laying on the floor.

“Is it my fault you weren’t wearing any underwear?”

“Is it my fault you were so eager to undress me?” you replied with another question, working on his clothes. Zemo chuckled allowing you to do further undressing of him. “You know what…” you paused your doings and took your hands away, looking at him slyly, “You’re a big boy, do it yourself.”

You walked away from him with a cheeky smile and sat down on a bed, resting on your palms with crossed legs. Zemo tilted his head letting a quiet sigh of disbelief as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, still maintaining eye contact with you. Oddly, you found it quite erogenous, and your breath quicken a bit watching him stripping the rest of clothes.

“Like what you see?”

“Come to me,” you softly lured, feeling deprived of his touch and affection for too long. You climbed higher on the bed making room for Zemo, who was over you within seconds.

“So needy,” he chuckled darkly, leaving lazily trail of kisses starting on your collar just to end right next to your ear. His hand was exploring your hip, gently clenching fingers into your sensitive skin, enjoying each of your soft moans. “So impatient – and so welcoming.”

You deeply inhaled feeling his fingers inside you, already dripping wet.

“Y/N…” Zemo caught each of your whines with his lips slowly fingering you, “You’re such a beautiful mess.” You laughed in his mouth which quickly turned into loud groan of pleasure as heat inside you was more and more mounting.

“Zemo, I want you,” you said quietly and whimpered as he took his fingers away from you.

“Good Lord, Y/N. You even taste as good as you look,” he smiled devilishly, licking off your juices and suspended any actions, glancing at you somehow distressed.

“What is it?” you looked up, searching for his eyes.

“It’s just been a while since I – ” you shushed him with your finger on his lips.

“Roll over,” you said sternly and surprisingly he was more than happy to oblige and pull you on top, “Good boy, Helmut,” you awarded him with a loving kiss.

You straddled him and helped yourself with your hand to position his member to your entrance, and you slowly lowered down on him. Both of you gasped at the same moment as you froze to feel him better inside you. “You’re quite to take,” you whispered slowly rocking your hips, much to Zemo’s approval. After a moment of his stillness, Zemo started to counter your movements.

“Oh, my – Helmut,” you gasped airlessly feeling his thrusts and trying to keep up with the pace. “Don’t you dare to stop,” you bit your lip, watching what hot mess he became beneath you. It seemed as his hands were all over you, all the time, yet you felt them mostly strongly gripping your hips as he kept thrusting in you.

“You are beautiful, Y/N. I cannot get enough of you,” with each next pound into you, you felt your legs were about to fail you. Zemo saw that as you were faintly allowing your head to fall down with sorrow moans of pleasure.

He unceremoniously flipped you on your back and trapped between the mattress and his body.

“That’s unexpected,” you said pulling him closer, sinking your fingers into his messy hair, “But not unwelcomed.”

“You were barely holding on. I couldn’t allow anything happen to you,” he stated, changing his pace to much slower and mor passionate lovemaking.

“You have well-rested, my dear Bar–ON,” a moan escaped your lips as he suddenly caught your nipple in teeth and bit it.

Zemo hooked your legs around his hips as he started to pound into you mercilessly, catching every single moan and scream of pleasure that escaped your mouth with his indecent kisses. Within a blink of an eye your arms were held by his hand, above your head, much restraining your movement. You tried to squirm your freedom, but he was relentless in overpowering you.

“Don’t move, be a good girl,” his whisper next to your ear made your eyes even darker from lust and you obliged to Helmut’s demand. “Good girl,” he praised you huskily, cupping your breast with the free hand.

“Helmut, I – ” you shivered strongly as your climax was almost there. Your hips were coming ahead his thrust gaining as much friction and stimulation as you could get. “Please, let me go… I want to touch you, to feel you when I come on you,” you pleaded sweetly arching your body toward him even more.

As soon as your arms were free, you clenched them around his upper body, dugging nails into his back. Your breath was becoming more and more frantic as you were on the very edge of your climax. All of your nerves were aching for it to happen, controlling over your body as you softly whimpered into Zemo’s neck nonsense. His brown eyes, now almost black were staring at you as if you were his pray, his victim.

“Don’t you dare stopping n-OW,” you were an absolute mess and him changing pace for the faster one was bringing you over the edge.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” Zemo’s hips were smashing into you with the force you have never suspected him. You nodded sloppily kissing his face wherever you could and then it happened.

You felt overwhelming wave of heat and shivers overpowering your body as your orgasm hit. For a moment you stopped breathing and allowed to be filled with this shake inside you and how your muscles tensed around him. Your arms were holding onto Zemo, whose moves became hastier and erratic, close to his own finale. He rested his head on your shoulder breathing heavily and babbling as with few last thrusts he came in you, with loud moan.

He stopped moving to catch his breath and slowly slipped out of you.

“You are intense, Y/N,” his soft smile was something amazing to observe. You could have sworn there was only affection and nothing more in him, at the moment.

“Well, I got to taste my own medicine, Helmut. I think I might have some bruises,” you looked at him out of breath and satisfied.

Zemo pulled you closer and left few short kisses on your forehead before he spoke to you, “Sleep now, I’ll get you back to boys tomorrow morning.”

As much as you hated the idea of being vulnerable in your sleep, you settled down comfortably next to Zemo, slowly falling asleep. His arm around your shoulder was holding you steadily, yet you could still hear his heart fast beating. Listening to it and how it was getting slower as to the regular hear beat, you found yourself drowsy enough to relax and fall asleep on his chest.

***

Your sleep was abruptly finished by the phone ring.

“Hallo?” you took the phone quickly not to wake up sleeping man next to you.

“Y/N? Care to explain your sudden missing?” you heard James on the other side and stopped breathing for a moment.

You got up and left the bedroom with sleeping Zemo and you replied, “Ich hatte einen Dinge zu machen.[I had some things to do.]”

“Yeah, right. I’m waiting outside,”

“Was? [What?]” a shocked question slipped your lips.

“Das. [That.] I put a tracker on you. I didn’t want another runner like Zemo. Come down or I’ll come for you,” he said and hung up.

FUck, fuck, FUCK, you thought shocked as you started quickly looking for your clothes. Outside the window, you indeed noticed Bucky standing under a street lantern on the opposite side of the hotel’s entrance. As you were gathering your dress and shoes, you noticed some kind of package on a chair, opposite to the bed. You almost omitted it as they were all black and only delicate shimmering in the streetlight, caught your attention.

I hope these will be more comfortable to pursue me in.

You smiled lightly and put the note in the pocket. How come that he could not speak about his feelings but had no problem with showing them in other ways. You took the pile from the chair and you noticed it was surprisingly heavy, as you walked into the bathroom.

How does that man know so much about me?, you asked yourself putting on clothes he prepared. And of course, they fitted you perfectly, which was quite amazing. You haven’t had a slightest idea what kind of material it was, but it felt so comfortable as if you were wearing a second skin. You slipped your feet into boots and laced them thoroughly.

The last thing from the pile was a black box in which you found lather shoulder holster, quite similar to the one Zemo was wearing himself. You put it on and adjusted to your preference and when it was perfectly laying on you, you inserted a gun into the holster.

Before you went away, you have left a short notice foe Zemo that you must have gone.

“Why did you left your position?” he asked as soon as you saw you leaving the hotel, and narrowed his eyes checking out your outfit closely. “Weren’t you wearing a dress?”

“Und jetzt trage ich das. [And now I wear this,]” you answered shortly, unsure how to feel about this whole situation. “Es ist nicht nett, dass du mir nicht vertraust. Aber ich verstehen es. [It’s not nice that you don’t trust me. But I get it].”

“Well, I was right not to trust you, Y/N. Why did you leave?”

“Ich habe dir gesagt, ich musste mich um einige Dinge kümmern. Es ist nicht so, dass ich an euch beide gebunden bin. [I told you, I had some things to attend to. It’s not like I’m bound to you two],” you snarled back at him. “Wo ist Sam? [Where’s Sam?]”

“Back at our hideout,” James sighed quietly and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, listen… You don’t have to tell me why you left, just –,” he stopped for a second looking at you. “Just leave any kind of note that you’re going…”

“Oh, warst du besorgt? [Oh, you were worried?]” you looked at him surprised as he growled with huff. “Das ist schön, James. [That’s lovely, James.]” you mocked him with light smile.

You never would have thought that any of them, James nor Sam, would display any kind of concern of your person. It was even funnier, considering the fact you just did write a note for Zemo, so he would not be troubled about your whereabouts.

“Just don’t do it again, ok?” he looked miserable as you laughed silently at this revelation. You gently patted his arm and nodded to his ask. “You’re not going back there? To your things?”

“Nein, alles ist gut, James. Wir können zurückgehen und darüber nachdenken, was als nächstes zu tun ist. [No, everything is good, James. We can go back and think what to do next,]” you said and started walking down the quiet road.

“I’m afraid no, she wasn’t even there,” Bucky answered and looked at you.

Sweet Lord, these boots are comfortable, you thought taking each next step.

“Haben sie mit diesem Wissenschaftler Glück gehabt? [Did you get any luck with that doctor?]” you asked after a while.

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you muttered under your nose silently, “You’re sure about that? [Bist du darüber sicher?]”

“Yes, we’ve talked to some other scientist that told us, she went missing like three days ago. Presumably taken by the Power Broker, as she was last seen in Madripoor.”

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you repeated louder, which caught Bucky’s attention.

“Why is she so important to you?”

“Willst du wirklich, dass Walker länger ein Supersoldat ist? [Do you really want Walker to be any longer a super soldier?]” you answered with another question. “Ich denke, wir müssen uns ausruhen und dann überlegen, was wir als nächstes tun sollen, [I think, we should take a rest and the think what to do next.]“

“That’s good idea,” he shortly agreed as you came in the apartment.

You noticed Sam sleeping on the sofa under a blanket. Surely something that was taken care of by James.

“I really enjoyed this opera, you know?” you smiled softly hearing it, “It was nice to do something normal? I guess.”

“Ich bin erfreut, das zu hören, [I’m happy to hear it,]” you lowered your voice not to wake the other man.

You looked at James trying to figure out what was he all about. No doubt, he was a caring and a caring persona and that softened you. It was truly awful what happened to him in the past because he did not deserved it at all.

“Es gab nie eine Schwester, [There was never a sister,]” this sentence sounded louder than you thought after a moment of silence.

“I know, Y/N,” you turned to him with surprised expression, a question painted all over your face. “It wasn’t exactly that hard to figure it out, especially since I found your file in published S.H.I.E.L.D. documents.”

You sighed heavily, “Wie viel weißt du [How much do you know]?”

“Pretty much all of it. That you helped Zemo going after the Avengers,” he took off his jacket and hung it over the chair, then continued, “And I just found out about your ailment, you want to treat so badly, Y/N.”

“Okay, willst du dich ausruhen oder darüber reden [Alright, do you want to rest or to talk about it]?” you rubbed your eyes. It was quite late and you dreamt only about continuing your sleep but you couldn’t leave it just like this.

“Let’s talk. We still have some time.”

“Nimm dann die Flasche und zwei Gläser [Grab the bottle and two glasses, then],” you moved to the bedroom and made him space on the bed. “Es wird einige Zeit in Anspruch nehmen [It will take some time],” you said closing the door.

#zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x y/n #baron zemo x you #baron helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #reader #fanfic #tfatws

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headboyweasley · 4 years ago

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to my beloved // h.p

pairing : harry potter x reader

summary : when harry learns you’ve gone missing, he hits rock bottom. no one can reach out to him until a peculiar letter ends up in his possession.

warnings : ANGST (happy ending???), swearing, post-war, alcohol/implied alcohol abuse, violence (against inanimate objects), missing person/presumed dead, mentions of food

word count : 1.3k

author’s note : hi!! this is my very first fic posted on tumblr, so i hope you enjoy. i’m actually really proud of this one, as it was inspired by my favorite song “play this when i’m gone” by machine gun kelly. also, thank you for the support on my masterlist! it means the literal world. also my favorite writers followed me and i am freaking out. sorry for the this long note,,, i tend to ramble. enjoy!

( disclaimer : gif is not mine! )

It had been months since the war had ended. While the wizarding world was still healing, the future for it had become hopeful. The threat of war had hung over the heads of the community, so once it had been taken away, everything was reborn. Bustling crowds and children’s laughter had filled Diagon Alley once more; the boarded up shops had now opened up, gleaming with pride. Many felt grateful for this new age.

The last person people expect to be so devastated was Harry Potter. Afterall, he was the one that killed Voldemort. Good things don’t happen to heroes, as someone had once told him. He gave everyone that hope, but he couldn’t find it in himself. Why, you may ask? Well, my friend, he found out you were among the missing people in the aftermath of the war. The love of his life, his sunshine, his darling had been snatched from him.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but sometimes he wishes that he hadn’t gone to the forest to face Voldemort. Sometimes he wishes he had hid away in Shell Cottage with you and grown old together. When he decided that was selfish, he tried to find other ways he could have won that war with you by his side.

He knew he couldn’t. What happened was the only true ending.

A sigh fell from his lips as the bottle was barely held by the tip of his fingers. The bedroom reeked of firewhiskey, which wasn’t a surprise since there was a surplus of them scattered across the floor. He took a final sip before letting this bottle join the rest.

Of course, Ron and Hermione had attempted to help. They had kept it up for a couple months through staying at his home and making meals for him. Hermione tried reading to him, while Ron kept his friend updated with Quidditch and the Weasley family. This had come to an abrupt halt, though, after a particularly angry outburst from Harry. They had given him one last look of sympathy before apparating.

That had been months ago, and since then, Harry had been trapped inside his mind and flat.

“You never do anything fucking right. First, you lose the love of your life. Next, you ruin the relationship between you and your best friends. You’re fucking alone, and you’re going to die that way.” He seethed with anger just looking at himself in the small mirror. He continued to glare at himself for a few more minutes before grabbing the mini dresser and slamming it into the floor.

Glass shattered, while his old Hogwarts uniform and merchandise tumbled out. Violence was an often thing for the items in his home. Usually after a bottle and self-degrading speech, he’d destroy something to let the anger fizzle. The aftermath of this, though, was a bit of a coping mechanism, as he would fix things by hand instead of using magic. It let his mind breathe; focus on anything but his self-hatred.

He crouched down to pick up his Gryffindor scarf, wrapping it around himself and relishing in its warmth with shut eyes. It reminded him of the freezing wind that nipped at his skin whenever he went out to visit Hagrid, or the times his roommates were challenging who could put on the most layers. These memories let him be at ease. They always transported him from the harsh reality to the happier days.

Once he allowed himself to come back, his eyes scanned for something that would ground him to the real world. He expected to find a bottle to do so, but instead laid eyes on an unfamiliar envelope at his feet. It couldn’t have been his Hogwarts letter, as this one did not bear the mark to close it. However, there was a date written at the top in an all too familiar handwriting. Then, it clicked.

Your handwriting.

Harry scrambled to grab the paper. It was sliding all over the hardwood floor when he kept grabbing at it recklessly. After a struggle that felt like forever, he held the envelope in his shaking hands. Yes, that was definitely your handwriting within the date that read “31 July 1997.” He flipped it over to find “To My Beloved” written across the front.

It felt as time had stopped, as he carefully pulled the flap from its seal. To him, it was like he was touching a part of you. Granted it was written over a year ago, but the small spark of hope held onto it anyways. Slowly, he pulled out the folded up paper inside. Deep breaths, he thought. He did quite the opposite, though, as his breath hitched when he read it.

Hi there, Harry. I hope you’re doing well.

If you find this, there’s a good chance something happened to me.

Already, tears pricked his eyes. He continued, despite his semi-blurry vision.

Please don’t fret though. Things happen for a reason, remember? If you hadn’t stayed in the hospital wing after your bone disappeared, you wouldn’t have met me and my major clumsiness. I’d like to think that’s another reason Lockhart’s git self had ended up as teacher; for our chance to meet.

It’s ok to cry, but please don’t think that it’s your fault. I am so in love with you, Harry James Potter. I dedicated my life to you. I promised you I’d follow you until the end, and I followed through.

Since I filled my promise, please promise that you’ll live; that you’ll find that happiness in your life again. You’re the best damn seeker I know, so don’t go telling me that you can’t. I mean, I’m sure you killed Voldemort and brought light into the dark world. You deserve to be in that light. Don’t dwell on the past, my love. Focus on the future. All I want is for you to be happy.

I know we never got married, but I knew you were mine from the beginning. The box with this letter; I thought I’d give it now before it was too late. In marriage, you want the best for your partner. That’s exactly what I want. When you wear this, please remember to do whatever you can to be happy. If not for you, then for me.

I love you, Harry Potter. I am so proud of you.

Yours, Y/N

The letter would be covered in wet spots if his glasses hadn’t taken the fall. He let out a choked sob as he clutched the letter to his chest. His eyes scanned the area for the aforementioned box, and found it between a few bottles. One hand darted out and snatched it up, while the other kept a tight grip on the now wrinkling letter. Slowly, he flicked open the lid with his thumb.

A wedding band glistened against the little light peeking through the blinds. Upon seeing it, he hesitantly let the letter fall onto his lap and went to take the jewelry instead. His hands shook as he grabbed it and slipped it into his finger. A perfect fit, of course.

Maybe, just maybe, the ring was magic. It must be, as there was a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. Happiness? Love? Hope? He sifted through a few emotions before landing on a feeling of content. This letter was the closure he had been subconsciously grasping for. Now that he had it, he felt reconciliation with his mind.

Harry pushed himself up to stand, and with shaky legs, he made his way to his home phone. He made sure one hand held the paper that brought him much peace, while the other dialed the number. It rang a few times before a familiar voice answered. A final deep breath before he responded.

“Hermione? I think.. I think I’m ready to change.”

!taglist! @/empty :(

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #fanfic #harry potter fic #fic #hermione granger #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #draco malfoy #neville longbottom #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #pansy parkinson #taylor fics

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sweeethinny · 3 years ago

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The Duke - Chapter 10

A.N: OK, let's go Thank you very much to the comments, really, I know it takes time, but I'm glad you're here always waiting for a new chapter for your understanding: everything in *ITALIC* is flashback, it's a chapter basically made up of that, it explains some things it was the chapter i waited the longest to arrive, i liked it in the end, i hope you did too <3 AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE

It was a cold night, it had rained that afternoon and the sky was cloudy, it looked like it would rain later in the morning, but Arabella was happy about that, as the damp, muggy weather made her sneeze every minute and her asthma was actually getting worse. She should visit a doctor soon. She continued to walk down the empty street, the hem of her dress was getting more and more muddy, no matter how much she pulled her skirt up a little, every time she stepped into a puddle the mud splashed and it was no use effort in trying to get that dress clean. She should have picked an older one to go out with, since she knew the streets would be dreadful after all that rain, not the brand new one she'd bought after working so hard. Was it just a piece of sewn fabric, why was it so expensive? There weren't even enough details or buttons to justify it. But if Isabel was telling the truth, the fabric had come from India, and that in itself had already increased the price twice as much, and Arabella knew that the woman would not lie to her… She hoped at least. As she walked the streets of Godric's Hollow, she thought about how another lonely night would be, and that maybe tomorrow she would send a letter to her great-aunt asking if she could stay a few days at her farm, just to have the company of other people besides the two her cats; Silk and Melindra. “Help!” The scream echoed behind her, and Arabella turned, startled, to see if anyone was hurt or what might have triggered that scream. It was a female scream, and it made her think that maybe a woman could be chased by some maniac, and even though she wasn't very strong, two women fought better than just one, so she ran towards the scream, not caring more about the mud splashing on her dress. Near Ms. Bright’s shop, there was a woman lying down and bleeding, her clothes torn and a baby in her lap. She looked scared, dumped near a ditch that had been made a few days ago to start building a fashion studio around the corner, the scant dress that still covered her was smeared with what looked like blood and mud, and Arabella thought she saw blood running down her legs. Whether it was an injury or something more disturbing, she couldn't tell. The woman held the baby tightly to her chest, wrapped in an old blanket as dirty as she was, and the poor child spared no effort in crying, looking more than scared. “I'm here, what happened?” Arabella ran to her, helping the poor girl to her seat, noticing that the poor baby was also smeared with blood, but she couldn't tell whose blood it was. ‘Come, come to my house, I can help you-’ "No," she cried, brown eyes startled and wide, as if they'd seen death a few feet away. “Someone is following me, I – I'm going to be killed, I know I will, my husband is after me and – you need to get the boy.” She lifted the baby towards Arabella. 'He's trying to kill us, he thinks the child isn't his, he thinks I cheated on him, and he's coming, I-' The woman stopped, as if she'd heard something, but then thunder made the Earth shudder. ‘Please save the boy, I beg you, he already tried to kill the boy but I was always on time, but now I feel like I won't be able to save him.’ “You must come with me.” Arabella pleaded once more, kneeling in front of the woman, trying to get her to rise. When she reached for her forearm, however, her hand was wet with blood, and the tear in the side of her dress let her see a hideous cut in her ribs, the blood running like water in a waterfall, dripping onto the floor and other parts of her dress. "I told you," she muttered, sobbing. 'I'm going to die, I'm not going to make it, I can't stand walking any longer, I managed to run away from him but I can't stand it much longer… Take the boy.' The woman lifted the boy again, who now seemed to cry even more, waking a few neighborhood dogs, as the sky glowed brighter, the earth trembling a few seconds later. "Take him away, don't let him die." 'How-how am I going to leave you here, I can't-' Another thunder shook the earth, and this time, the storm began to fall stronger

than the afternoon, the winds suddenly getting strong, which seemed to scare the boy even more. ‘He will get sick! Get him, take care of him!” As if on instinct, Arabella scooped him up in her arms, wrapping him in her scarf so he was a little warmer. Footsteps were heard nearby, and the woman seemed to despair even more. 'Go! Get Harry and go!’ “What's his name?” Arabella yelled over the noise of the rain, trying to understand what she had said. ‘Henry! His name is Henry!’ ---------------------- “Poor Duchess,” someone says, but all Arabella can see is the white flag atop the castle, an immense sadness shattering her chest into a million pieces. "Who could do something that horrible?" Another says, all paying attention to the newspaper that reports how Harry Potter, the Duke's eldest son, was found dead near a creek not far away. Probably killed by Death Eaters. “They're all nasty human beings!” A man said, looking horrified by the media descriptions, then looking up at the castle again. It's not that far away, it faces the mountains that end Godric's Hollow, separating them from another village, and it's positioned in a way that's seen from anywhere, no matter where you are, you'll see the castle and the huge towers, next to the flags that stand proudly on the masts. One with the English flag, the other with the Potter family crest. But today, both give way to white flags. The boy is dead. Arabella wipes the tears from her eyes and watches little Henry sleep in her arms, oblivious to the commotion. She sympathizes with the Duchess's pain as she looks at that little baby who nearly died along with her mother - Arabella knew that the woman's body was found lifeless the next morning - and remembers the time she too felt the pain of losing a child, of losing the one she loved most to Death Eaters. She kisses the boy's forehead, the pale scar of lightning makes him unique, and Arabella lets herself cry, thinking of the Duchess herself, and how they took away her right to fondle her own son. ---------------------- Arabella did not remember seeing the Duke in public since the incident two years ago. He smiles and nods, but she notices - because she's been there once too - that he's sick, that the gold-and-red scarf around his neck seems to have a lot of fabric left over, as well as his pants. She notices the dark circles under his eyes, and the sunken cheeks, but the man still smiles and waves at people. Henry was on her lap, yesterday he turned two, and Arabella doesn't know very well when he was born, but her neighbor, who is a doctor, said he wasn't much older than four or five months, so she decided that his birthday would be the day before they met, because she thought it was too tragic to celebrate the day she found him in his mother's lap half dead, but she didn't want to stray too far from the date. The Duke smiles and nods to a little girl on his father's shoulders, he is walking through the village as he usually does, something that brings him closer to the people who live there and keeps him in power. He's a good man, after his father, the best they've ever had for sure. He stops when he gets close to Arabella, and she smiles because she used to paint the portraits of the royal family until she had a problem with her fist and was forced to quit her profession, but the man never seems to forget the time she drew him on his 17th birthday. "I'm still waiting for you to draw me and my wife." He says, as he always has since she informed him that she had unfortunately been forced to stop. The man isn't charging her though, he smiles, and watches Henry in her lap, almost sleeping on her shoulder. “It's a beautiful boy.” She thought she saw a shadow in his eyes, but it was so fast she thought it was just her imagination. 'How old is he?' "Two years," she says, and now she's sure the man looks sick, because for a second he stops and stares at Henry, as if wondering what his two-year-old son would be like. Arabella knows because she used to do this. "My condolences, my Lord." "It's okay, I’m fine," the

man says, and he winks at Henry, who hides in his mother's neck, before going off to talk to another woman. ---------------------- “Why are we different?” Henry asks, sitting on the table as Arabella tends to his scraped knee. 'We don't have the same eye color, and my hair doesn't match yours.' She knows he doesn't mean to be mean, he's just a curious and very intelligent child, that he's noticed the dissimilarities between them. She smiles, applying ointment to the wound. ‘Because you are my son at heart, and children at heart are sometimes not like their mothers at heart.’ 'What is a child at heart?' He agrees to be picked up by her, and Arabella leads them into their small living room, sitting on the sofa with Henry on her lap, looking at her with big green eyes gleaming with curiosity, black strands falling over his eyelashes. She needs to cut his hair soon. “It means that you were born from another belly, not mine.” She places a hand over her stomach. “But that's just what separates us, because my love for you surpasses any barrier.” Arabella smiles, kissing his cheek, and Henry seems satisfied with the explanation. 'I love you so much too, this size here!' He opens his arms as much as he can, and the demonstration warms her heart as always, making her smile and hug her son as tightly as she assures him that she loves him even more. | J. P | James was concentrating on the duels when Remus arrived. He was marveling at how well Mr. Figg dueled, neither shivering nor losing time when Mr. Rosier hit back one of his spells, and the man didn't even look tired. He had always found dueling an incredibly boring and dull part of parties when he was younger, accompanied by his father and seeing the men fall in a few minutes, James preferred the parties and the after, when the house was silent and dark and he could go out to meet some woman. It was at one of these parties that he met Lily, during a nighttime getaway he saw her jumping out the window. First he followed her thinking that she was also going to meet someone, and James being a curious young man that he was, he wondered what kind of man that woman liked to sneak with. Maybe he had a chance. But later, when he saw her come out of the house and run towards the lake nearby, James didn't understand. She didn't like him following her, of course, it had been a dumb idea and nowadays he was ashamed of his younger self's actions, but that's what got them talking for the first time. She smiled in embarrassment as he praised her ability to climb a vine. "James!" Remus called after him, cheeks flushed and blue eyes pained toward him. The first thing that came to his mind was that Lily was hurt, and that made him lose all interest in watching the Duel and made him turn to his friend in alarm. “What happened?” He tried to be as discreet as possible, trying to keep other men from noticing his splurge. Sirius did a good job of distracting two young men. "Lily needs you…and she asked me to take Mr. Figg too." Remus muttered the last part, making James frown and look at the boy on his left, who had finally won the duel. Rosier looked tired. 'Is it urgent.' "Is she hurt?" It was a valid concern, James feared his wife would get sicker now that she was surrounded by people, and maybe someone had said something to her and Lily had one of her fits again. ‘And why does she want the boy? Should I tell Arthur? ‘No, don't say anything to anyone, just come… We're in the dungeons.’ ---------------------- Henry did not know how to control his magic, and that distressed Arabella. If he was a Muggle it would be so much easier, she knew that, because when Henry made that poor boy float, and then made a flower vase explode, she knew she would have to explain a lot to him: Why couldn't he go to a proper college and why she didn't do magic like he did. Arabella no longer felt ashamed of being a Squib, she had accepted the condition and lived normally, or at least as she managed to, avoiding whenever anyone asked about it just to avoid people's prejudice. Some thought she was a

Muggle who had married a wizard, and that's why she knew so much about it. Others thought that she just hadn't had a chance to go to school, and that's why she didn't know how to properly control magic. "They made fun of me!" Henry said, annoyed, his eyes red from crying. “They said things—horrible things to me!” He sobbed, which made Arabella even sadder and more worried. His green eyes glistened with tears, staring at her for answers. "They told me I-I'll never be good at-at anything." He sobbed louder and louder, the scraped knee now forgotten, as if the internal pain was much bigger. She was about to cry with him. “Henry, honey, listen to me.” She took a deep breath, thinking that conversation had come earlier than she'd planned. ‘What they said is a lie. They don't know how to control their magic either, they probably won't for a good few years, and you're already good at a lot of things, of course you are, Henry. You're much better at putting together puzzles, and you're much faster too, I mean, you always win at the races.' Arabella smiled sweetly, smoothing his messy hair, thinking how unfair it was that such a sweet little boy already got to know this side of life. She wished she could just show the good side of life, and leave the thorns and stones for when he understood things better. Arabella wondered how her mother managed to do this so masterfully, because right now, she wanted to be able to hex the parents of those boys and force them to teach their children more respect for others. She wished it had been her who had been pushed and thrown out of the game, not her child. Her heart broke even more, feeling helpless. ‘Don't listen to what they say, ok? You're amazing, a very smart kid, and your future will be bright.” She promised, because it was true. Arabella would do anything for her son. ---------------------- Henry ran as fast as he could, passing through the trees and not even bothering with the branches that scratched his skin, he just needed to get out of there. He knew he shouldn't have pissed off those boys, but they were scaring another younger boy, and just because they'd now gone to that stupid school of stupid people, they thought they were even better than the rest of the people there. Henry wished he could go to Hogwarts, but his mother had told him that you needed to receive a letter, and that they were only sent for a few families - maybe if you're lucky you get the letter, she said smiling, even though the smile didn't reach her eyes. Arabella had never said this, but Henry knew he would probably never get the letter; he wasn't rich and he didn't have a father, and for some reason, that seemed to be enough to keep him away from others. He ran even faster when he heard loud laughter, he wasn't afraid of those kids anymore, Henry had grown up while they were in school, more than they were, but they had one advantage: magic. Arabella couldn't buy a wand, so he didn't have one, and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to use it. “You're a wimpy coward if your only way to fight is with magic…don't you know how to punch?” Henry had said to Jilian, the biggest idiot of them all. Henry wasn't very good at punching, but he was very fast, while when Greg tried to cast a spell on him, he ran off into the forest, barely noticing when his own magic created a dome around him, preventing any spells from hitting him. . ---------------------- “Why are we so different?” Henry asked, taking a seat beside Arabella as she kneaded the bread on the table. She looked at him, noticing that the boy was all sweaty and looking a little smudged with dirt. “How many times have I told you not to go into the woods?” She returned her gaze to the dough, continuing to knead. "It's quieter there." He shrugged, pulling his sweaty hair off his forehead, letting his scar show for a few seconds before hiding it again. “And more dangerous too, and you know it.” Arabella raised her eyebrows, scolding him. She'd heard horrible stories of people meeting a werewolf deep in the woods, and as much as she didn't

know whether or not it was true, she didn't want Henry to take any chances like that. He was only 13 years old, he should have been playing with the other kids on the street and not running into the trees. "Okay, I won't do it anymore." He sighed, but she knew he would break that promise the next time he had the opportunity. ‘But then? Why aren't we alike?’ "Henry, because you were born from another belly. I already said that" She placed the buns in the oven, washing her hands afterwards and looking up at him with a gentle smile on her face. "I met you when you were very young, you know this story." "But why can I make things float and you can't?" His green eyes stared at her with an expression much harder and more serious than she was used to, as if he would know if she lied. ‘Because not all of us are born doing magic. Some of us are good at something other than magic… It's something you need to be born knowing how to do, you can't develop it, just improve it.” Arabella swallowed, trying not to show so much the scars that had left on her. People weren't kind when they found out you were a Squib. He was quiet for a few minutes, looking at his hands as if he wanted to find the right words. The sun streaming through the kitchen windows illuminated his black hair, a few strands reflecting an almost red copper color that Arabella thought was beautiful. 'Can you never do magic?' He looked at her, and all the worry she'd ever felt, scared that maybe Henry would feel sorry for her or ashamed of her, drained and slipped out as his green eyes stared at her, full of affection and sadness. Not the same sadness that always came with grief, but as if he felt bad that he did magic and she didn't, as if he understood now why some people offended her and treated her differently. "No." She gave a half smile. "But I'm not sad about it anymore, I like who I am." And it was true. Henry nodded, still being silent for a while, seeming to absorb the information, then he got up from the wooden bench, walking over to her and hugging her. He was no longer her little boy—as much as he always would be her baby—Henry now almost reached her chest, and it wouldn't be long before he was taller than her. She hugged him back, enjoying this show of affection, imagining that a few years from now he wouldn't like hugs so much. "I love you," he said. ‘I love you very much too. Forever and ever.” Arabella kissed the top of his head, tightening her hold even more, as if she was afraid someone would suddenly take him away from her. ---------------------- It had been a long time since James had been in the dungeons, he didn't like going there, it was cold, wet, lonely, and it made him think too much. It made him think his son's things were there, in boxes organized as if they were just another mess and not everything he and Lily had ever dreamed of. It made him think of the pain that resided in his chest, the emptiness that nothing in the world had ever been able to fill. James hated the dungeons. Lily, unlike him, loved being there, she said it was the best place for her to think, and the calmest of all - 'It's where I feel that no one will look at me with pity, where I can think of my son in peace, you know what I'm talking about," she said when James questioned her about the surroundings. He knew, he understood her, James had changed into Prongs many more times than necessary, he did it every time the pain got too much to take. He walked down the stairs, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine, couldn't anyone make this place something less scary? After Remus left, James warned Sirius, who tried to pretend as best he could and further entertain the men who now looked curious to death, while he went to talk to Mr. Figg. "I need you to accompany me, but I need you to do this cautiously and discreetly," James asked, looking into those green eyes closely, trying to remember where he knew that expression. "I'll go ahead, meet me in five minutes at the entrance to the stone path, do you know where it is?" The man nodded, tucking

his wand into the waistband of his pants and straightening his robes. 'I'll let Arthur know I'll take you, just so he won't be worried, but I think you understand that you shouldn't say anything to anyone, right?' "Yes, my Lord." The man made a brief, discreet bow, and James grimaced, not understanding why that made him uncomfortable. Now James heard footsteps behind him as he walked through the dungeon, neither of them saying anything. Why had Lily asked Mr. Figg to come along? Had she found out something about the boy? Something bad? James glanced quickly over his shoulder, noticing that the man looked warmed too, his hands behind him and his back straight. Has something happened to Miss Weasley? Well, if so, Arthur would be called too, right? James broke off as soon as he reached the last room, the one he avoided the most, and the only one with lighted candles. The first thing he saw when he entered were the boxes, stacked against a wall, then he realized there were some of Harry's things on the floor, smeared with dirt and sticks, and James' heart missed a beat when he saw the Snitch Pajamas The gold one he'd bought when he found out Lily was pregnant was now all filthy and torn. Had they been attacked? Was that why Lily sent for him? Then he saw Remus, opening Lily's herb cabinet and looking for something inside, he looked worried. In the back, near the only window there, was Peter, all smeared with mud too, sitting on the floor with his hands behind his back, his red cheeks making him look like a child caught doing something wrong, and his rumpled clothes hinting that he had fought someone. Finally, sitting on the bench was Lily. Her dress was dirty too, but that wasn't what James first noticed, it was her red face, her pink cheeks like when she drank wine, her hands shaking as she poured something into the cauldron, looking more nervous than ever. "What's going on?" James glanced at the three of them, feeling even more anxious. "Lily, what the fuck is going on?" "Did you bring Henry?" James frowned at her calling the man by his first name, but nodded anyway, Peter sighed in the corner, looking almost terrified, not making eye contact with James for a moment. ‘Great, send him in.’ ---------------------- Henry knew he shouldn't be there, his mother had forbidden him, but he had nowhere else to go. Jilian had come back from his stupid school and he seemed more than happy to train some spells on Henry, and even though he had honed his punching technique, he couldn't compete with magic. So he ran into the forest. It was cold there, it had rained last night and the earth had turned to mud, and because of the tall trees the sun's rays didn't penetrate as much, and the whole environment ended up getting wetter than usual. Henry shivered as the wind made him wonder why he hadn't grabbed a jacket. He was sitting on the usual rock, it was close to the river that separated them from the Muggles, and it gave him a good view across the village. There were houses like the ones on this side, but they always looked a lot less colorful than the ones he was used to, and there weren't as many flowers and trees either, as if the Muggles were willing to clear every bit of land they found, leaving everything gray and monotonous. Henry had asked his mother if they could go to that side of the village, but Arabella had been stern to say he was forbidden to even think about going to the Muggles. He chuckled softly, thinking that if it hadn't been for the river that separated them, he probably would have managed to at least get there, curious as always. A noise startled him, making him jump and hide behind the rock, praying it wasn't one of Jilian's friends, as he would be at such a disadvantage. There wasn't much to run now, Henry had almost reached the end of the forest, and unless he took a chance and ran towards the darkest and scariest part, the other option was to jump into the river. And he wasn't doing any of those things. But when he didn't hear voices or anything to indicate they were people, he stood up,

watching a deer walking around, distracted by everything, as if nothing else mattered. Henry had never seen one this close, and he was a little fascinated by the animal, he understood why there are two deer on the Potter family crest. It really was a beautiful animal, and if he could choose, he would also want them emblazoned on his chest. Henry stepped out from behind the rock, careful not to startle the animal, trying to get as close as he could. “Hey,” he called, even though it didn't make much sense. The animal turned, eyes huge now in his direction. It had been a bad idea, he cursed himself mentally, imagining that that animal was too big and would probably kill him without a second thought… Did deer eat human flesh? Henry didn't know, but they probably hurt anyone who scared them and made them feel in danger. The animal approached, slowly, and each step made the boy's stomach turn and his heart race. Deer were fast, much faster than Henry was. He was dead. But when the animal's black eyes got much closer than Henry had ever thought he saw, the animal bowed, as if saying hello to him. Without thinking twice, he did the same, maintaining eye contact with the deer. Heavens, couldn't he be less weird? Bending over to deer, blowing things up without meaning to... Henry stood up after a while, being careful to do this as slowly as possible, still afraid the deer would decide to kill him then and there. But the animal seemed to have other plans, because he lay down in front of the boy, as if he were an adorable little dog. Henry sat beside him too, having no choice; he didn't have many friends, and he had nothing else to do, so why not? His ass got a little wet from the dirt, but nothing too uncomfortable. The deer shifted and brought its head closer to Henry's crossed leg, as if asking for affection, and the boy didn't wait for another move to do so, leaning his back against the stone and reaching out to stroke the slightly coarse fur of the animal For some strange reason, Henry felt comfortable doing it, as if he had done it before, it was something familiar that burned in his chest. But he didn't think about it much, just fell silent and watched the forest in front of him. ---------------------- "Lily, what's going on?" James asked, feeling uneasy as he watched the tension surround the room, Remus looked nervous and Peter avoided looking up, as if he was suddenly afraid to face one of them. Lily turned to James, her green eyes seemed to glow with hatred, her nostrils swollen, an expression he'd seen a few times over the years, but one that always scared him. "What... What happened?" Her shaky voice made him look at Remus again, the worry growing by the second. "Oh James." She shook her head, as if suddenly too much pain hit her, and he ran to her protection, opening his arms to hold her and protect her from anything that had happened while he was gone. "Guys, anyone…?" He glanced at his friends, but again, Peter didn't look at him. "Tell him, Peter!" Lily yelled, breaking out of James' embrace and turning to the man sitting on the floor, pointing her wand in his direction. ‘Lily, what the hell!?’ "No, James," She held up a hand, silencing him. "Tell Peter, tell him what you did to our son." His world stopped, his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets as James stared at his friend, begging for all that was most sacred that he hadn't quite understood. Peter was his brother, his best friend, they met when they went to Hogwarts together, he was there when James needed it most, when they decided to become Animagus… Peter wouldn't do that, he couldn't! James doubted that one day the pain of losing a child would be replaced by another, that hellish emptiness that tore at him more and more inside, that made him not sleep well on rainy nights, that still made him walk into the boy's immaculate room and sit on the floor wondering what he should have done differently. He would do anything to get his son back, his boy. But the pain that hit him when Peter shook his head and lowered his head, making him

realize his hands were tied behind his body, came very close. His best friend… betrayed him? "Peter?" James pleaded, begged, for it to be a lie, for Lily to be mad. It was a lie! It had to be. "I had to, James... I... he made me." ---------------------- The weather was not so good, Peter realized when he Apparated, the sky was dark and windy like never before. He should have worn another cloak, this one was too thin and made him cold. And other gloves too, because now these were bloody and torn. Who knew a woman could be so strong? Peter dragged the woman's passed out body with him, feeling a little sickened by that when he realized her wound was getting worse with each passing minute, he needed to be quick. Leaving the body where no one could find it, he pulled a strand of her hair into the potion and then took it, the horrible taste of iron made him want to spit it out on the floor, but now there was no turning back, he would have to swallow and continue with the plan. Lord Voldemort had promised him a great reward in exchange for the boy's life, and for the first time in a long time, Peter felt important and wanted. It wasn't that Black boy who was chosen, or even Snape, no no, he was the one Voldemort thought capable of completing the mission, he thought he was strong enough. How long has it been since? He only stayed inside the Order because James kept him there, no one really wanted him there, not even Dumbledore, Peter didn't need him to say it to know, it was visible to everyone. For the old man, any other man could do the job better than he… Probably if Lily were there too, she would be chosen before Peter. Potter this, Black that, Peter was tired. Why didn't anyone realize he was also strong and smart? Well, now that was over, Voldemort had seen his potential and chosen him to do this mission, and Peter wasn't going to fail now. When he was fully transformed into that whore, he apparated into the castle, glad the potion didn't stop him from doing so. Stupid James should have put in better security than a simple spell. Peter had seen James that afternoon, he said that today was Harry's first night trying to sleep alone and that he and Lily were excited to see how he would react to the change, so the plan would be even easier to execute. As excited as Peter was at the idea of being useful to someone, he knew he couldn't kill James, he had to really want to do it with all his heart. When he reached the boy's room, Peter looked around, noting the choice of bright, cheerful colors, the many teddy bears scattered around, the photos on the walls and in the frames above the dresser. Little Harry slept peacefully in his bed, wrapped in the pale blue blanket, looking peaceful, cuddled up with his deer teddy bear. He was a lot like James, Peter thought, watching the boy move his short legs like he was kicking something in the dream. He hadn't really thought about that part of the plan, he figured he'd have the guts to just take the boy and end his life right there, or in some alley farther along, but when Peter picked him up, being careful not to waking him up, that lavender scent invaded his nostrils and he watched the baby more closely. The boy looked helpless in his arms, like he wasn't even real, and if he wasn't watching the boy's belly rise and fall, Peter would think he was a doll. Voldemort would never know if he had killed the boy or not, and pausing to analyze the situation now, Peter also didn't know if he could kill the boy. He wanted to show that he was strong and useful, but a baby? Harry looked so…small. When he stirred, startling Peter, and seemed to be looking for something - maybe his mother's scent - he realized it was time to act, there was no turning back, it had to be now. And when lightning flashed in the sky, he cast a spell to prevent Harry from listening when he broke the glass to fake an escape, Peter waited for thunder to do so and then Apparated out of the castle, knowing that this was the best thing to do. There were two paths now, and he needed to think quickly

which was better, kill Harry and throw him in some hole, or give the boy to someone else. Of course he would risk this person recognizing the baby, but he would have to bet his luck on finding another baby like this for Lily and James to bury, or maybe even run to the Muggle village and find some woman there. It had to be fast, Harry would wake up any second and Peter didn't have much time after that. As soon as he spotted a woman a few blocks away and Harry opened his eyes in his arms, Peter acted without thinking, taking the knife from his pants pocket and opening a wound in his ribs, before starting to scream for help. ---------------------- James clapped his hand over his mouth, denying it over and over, not believing what he was hearing. No no no no. This had to be a lie, this had to be a lie. Peter would never do that, Peter was his brother, he would never… No, this could only be a joke. He could barely handle the pain right now, thinking he'd rather die than have to deal with it. It hurt so much that James thought he might start bleeding at any moment, his chest lacerated after hearing about it. He couldn't even feel angry. His boy, his little boy, whom he'd loved so much ever since Lily told him she was pregnant, that it made him want to scream from the top of the roof in so much joy… “I could kill you right now,” he said, after what seemed like an eternity, barely able to face the traitor. "But…" James shook his head, closing his eyes to try to make it hurt a little less, his father's voice resonating through his mind; "You must be careful with Peter," he said before he died. "Men like him are easily attracted to the side that shines the most." James had thought his father was delusional when he said that, thought it was the fever, but no, the bastard really was a weakling and a coward. Letting himself be attracted to those he once hated. If he really hated it. "I can't even look at you." James turned to Lily, who looked distraught to death at having to hear that story. He wanted to kill Peter even more for making her suffer like that. The traitor had been there the next day, helping with the searches, he had hugged Lily when she cried, told her everything would be fine. "James, give me your hand," asked Lily, her own trembling, reaching out towards him. 'Why?' "Lils…he could be lying—" She shook her head, telling Remus to shut up. "Give me your hand James." Now her voice was stronger, more determined, and her green eyes sparkled even more. He did so, letting her grab his palm and run the tip of the knife, causing the blood to drip and smear her workbench and floor, before finally dripping into the cauldron. “Lily, what are you doing?” But she didn't answer him, cutting her own palm and spilling her blood along with his, then looking over her husband's shoulder. She looked more nervous than ever, and her severed hand shook even more as she held it out to the man behind James. "Give me your hand, Henry." Her green eyes sparkled with tears, and James didn't know if the man did as she asked just because she was a Duchess, or because she was crying. "Yes, ma'am." He walked over and let her do the same thing with his palm, passing the tip of the knife and then letting the blood spill into the cauldron. The potion began to bubble fiercely, as did James' chest when he realized what Lily was up to. He had seen her make this potion a few times, and if his thinking was correct, then maybe he could vomit right there, his stomach churning and making him feel weak. James didn't want to get his hopes up, it only served to hurt when unrequited, but he was unable to hold back the urge and looked at the man behind him, and then at Peter, who now looked even more guilty, if that was possible. If this was another one of his jobs with Voldemort, James knew he would kill him right there, with his bare hands. Forget magic and wands, he would tear that mouse apart like a hungry lion. James turned to the cauldron again when Lily sobbed and he smelled the lavender scent all over the room, and the once gray

potion was now a pinkish hue, the three drops of blood seemed to dance in the middle of the liquid, before of finally meeting at the end, getting connected. "Harry." Lily turned to the man, but James remained frozen, watching the cauldron in front of him. They had never reached this result, usually the potion would explode or nothing happened, and the smell was never that sweet aroma that seemed to fill all the hollows in his chest, as if he suddenly felt no more pain. As he turned back, as Lily advanced towards the boy, James thought that maybe nothing would ever compare to this. "Harry," Lily repeated, but this time she touched him, and as if the boy felt it too, he lowered his green eyes to her. James remembered then where he knew that look… It was Lily's eyes. Her trembling hand went to his forehead, lifting the hair lying there, just to let them see the lightning scar marked into his skin. It was too much to handle, James didn't know how he was still standing, but suddenly he started to feel tears rolling down his cheeks and as if this was the last drop of water to overflow the bucket, he sobbed. He inched closer to Lily, wanting to take a closer look at his son, as if he was afraid this was a dream and soon he would no longer have the chance to memorize every detail of it. His boy… "You-" Harry trailed off, as if he was feeling like James and Lily, his chest filling up and all that emptiness seeming to finally heal. "My parents?" He looked at James, and it was as if time had never passed. He still had the same expression as that little baby James used to cuddle up to sleep on. "I knew I knew you from somewhere," James managed to say, his throat seeming to scratch with the effort it took. "I would never be able to forget…" He didn't mind the tears rolling down his face, but he tried to wipe the ones down Harry's face. "I would never be able to forget my son."

#hinny #harry x ginny #jily lives #hinny au #the duke #harry potter #ginny weasley

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years ago

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Out of Time [5]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary: After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 4719

Warnings: none

The next few days seem to pass in a frenzy and before you know it, it’s already Saturday. Steve had asked you in the morning if you wanted to catch a movie with him later and it nearly killed you to have to refuse him. It was hard to miss the look of longing that had developed in his gaze whenever he looked at you ever since the two of you shared that dance. You felt that very same longing down to your very soul.

You would give just about anything to be able to stay here, living in a bubble of bliss. To protect him from all the horrors you know he will face if he fulfills his destiny. But you know you can’t do that. In fact, you have to do quite the opposite. You have to do everything in your power to make sure that it all still happens.

So, you’d started dropping little hints here and there. Trying to encourage him to try for recruitment again. Talking about the war effort and how bad they needed more soldiers. Groaning about how none of the people showing up at the recruitment center are a good fit for the program you work for. You make sure to get it into his head that fighting in the war isn’t about killing the most people in order to win, it’s about stopping bad people from doing even worse things.

By the time you’re walking into the Recruitment Center Saturday morning, all that’s left to do is hang onto that faith like you’re always telling Dr. Erskine. You have to believe that things are going to go right, otherwise, you’re not sure what you’re going to do.

The center is a madhouse all day long, which certainly helps to keep you distracted. The Fair has brought droves of people into the area. Dr. Erskine gives you a pat on the shoulder in passing between interviews and comments that this had been a pretty good idea. You certainly were seeing new faces today. Some good, most… not quite. There were several groups of men coming in with their friends, rowdy from the alcohol provided at the Fair, and boasting about how they were going to be the guy to win the war. Those ones tended to be a little handsy. You may have accidentally broken a few fingers.

When Erskine caught onto what was happening, he’d sent you out to run a perimeter check to give you some space. At that point, night had already fallen. The Fair looked even more magnificent under the cover of night. The buildings were lit up like Christmas trees and they had fireworks going off in the distance.

“Excuse me, Miss?” you hear a familiar voice and turn to see one Sgt. James Barnes dressed to the nines in his military uniform. “I’m looking for my friend, Steve. He was just with us at the Stark show but then disappeared. He’s blonde, kinda thin, always walks around with his head down. Have you seen him by any chance?”

You have to calm the pounding of your heart before you can respond. “Um, yes… I think I saw him heading toward the Recruitment Center,” you tell Bucky. Even though you hadn’t actually seen him, you know that’s where he must be.

Bucky frowns, sighing in irritation. “That little punk,” he mutters under his breath. You’re pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear that and have to refrain from smirking. “Uh, thank you,” he nods, backing away and heads in the direction of the center, the two women with him following behind.

It takes everything in you not to go rushing over there yourself to make sure things are going according to plan. You have to make sure your presence can’t interfere with Dr. Erskine seeing Steve for the first time. You complete a full lap around the Fair, hoping that will have killed enough time before you start to make your way back.

You watch a figure heading your way and come to a stop.

“This is me not sneaking up on you,” Howard proclaims, hands raised in innocence.

“Mr. Stark,” you greet, smiling in amusement. “How was your show? Did you blow them out of the water?” you ask, using his turn of phrase against him.

“Well, something certainly blew,” he laughs good-naturedly. “I take it, you saw what happened?”

You shake your head, “No, but I’ve certainly heard all about it.”

“News travels fast.”

“I happen to be in a unique position where knowing exactly what happens, and when, can mean a matter of life or death,” you tell him frankly.

“Well, then I guess I better let you get back to work. Maybe we can get drinks sometime when death is no longer on the table,” he grins.

“Have a good evening, Mr. Stark,” you dismiss, beginning to step around him to continue on your way.

“Vic?” You look up to catch Steve coming out of the Recruitment Center. His gaze flickers over your shoulder to watch the man you’d just been speaking with walk away. “You know Howard Stark?”

You walk up to him, shrugging your shoulders casually. “He’s more of an acquaintance,” you explain. More like an annoyance.

“I just…” his brow furrows and he frowns. “I don’t understand what you’d be doing, hanging around a guy like me when you know a man like that.”

“Steve,” you step up to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. It doesn’t escape your notice how he’d referred to himself as just a guy, but Howard as a man. “I love that you don’t have an ego the size of Texas, like most men in this world, but you really need to start giving yourself more credit.”

He smiles wryly. “I’ll try and work on that. This certainly helps,” he lifts up a brown folder that he carries and hands it to you.

You open it to find his enlistment papers. It’s stamped with 1A on the bottom and has Dr. Erskine’s signature for approval. The relief you feel is so immense you could just about collapse right now. “Steve, that’s amazing!” you tell him, sharing his excitement.

“I ship out to Camp Lehigh tomorrow morning.”

You close the folder and hand it back to him, “Well, then. I guess I’ll see you there,” you grin.

“You will?” he questions in surprise.

“I told you that I was only in New York for the week. Wherever Dr. Erskine goes, I go.”

Steve feels a strange sense of relief knowing that he’ll still get to be around you, and this isn’t goodbye, just yet. “Do you really think I’ve got a shot at this? You said you were looking for soldiers with a specific skillset. Why would Dr. Erskine choose me?”

“Because of this,” you tap a finger against his temple. “And because of this,” you drop your hand to tap at his chest. “Anyone can pick up a gun and follow orders. You have to be more than that. This isn’t about strength or bravery. This is about knowing the value of a life before you decide to take it. I’m not saying that this next week is going to be easy for you. In fact, it’s probably going to be very difficult. But you have to show them that you’re more than the sum of your parts. I know you can do this, Steve. You’re destined for greatness.”

You catch the way his eyes dip to your lips but barely have enough time for that to register before he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. Not expecting him to do that, you stiffen up from the shock. Steve reacts almost immediately, pulling back with a panicked look on his face. “I’m so sorry. I thought-”

You grab his face in both of your hands and smash your lips back onto his. You kiss him long and slow, just the way you know he likes it. You can feel his inexperience in the way he’s slow to respond. He nearly drops the folder in his hands, remembering at the last second to grip it tighter with one hand as the other falls to your hip. Your tongue darts out to lick tentatively at his plump lower lip. He tastes salty, like popcorn from the fair. You feel his entire body shiver when your tongue swipes against his lips again.

His heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of his chest and he’s getting dizzy from lack of oxygen, but he doesn’t want this to stop. You make the decision for him, when you pull back, your nose brushing tenderly against his. He has to blink several times as the haze clears from his mind before he meets your hooded gaze. “Wow…” he breathes. “I- that was… wow.”

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable he is. “Right back at ‘cha,” you wink.

His lips split into a dopey grin. He knows that he must look like an idiot, but he’s past the point of caring. “How much longer do you have to stay?” he asks.

You look down at your watch. “Maybe another hour or so.”

“I can wait if you want to go home together?” he asks, hope shining in his eyes.

Your gaze softens, “I’d like that. Why don’t you finish checking out the Fair and then meet me back here?”

“Okay,” he agrees, eyes flickering down to your lips once more.

Unable to help yourself, you lean in for another kiss. He kisses back a little more fervently. When you pull back, you have to physically distance yourself by stepping away from him, otherwise, you’d never let him leave. “See you in an hour,” you smile.

“Yeah,” he nods once, walking backward a few steps before turning to head back to the Fair exhibits. For the first time, he walks with his shoulders back and his head held high. There’s almost even a bounce to his steps. He glances once over his shoulder and grins when he sees that you’re still watching him.

“So, that is the one, huh?”

You start at the sound of Dr. Erskine’s voice, not having heard him walking up to you. “Hmmm?” you question, unsure if he’s asking whether you think Steve is the one for Project Rebirth, or what exactly.

He grins and gives you a knowing look. “The man capable of holding your interest. You have good taste.”

You laugh nervously, your blood heating in embarrassment. “Didn’t I say you might meet him one day?”

He chuckles. “Yes, well. It would have saved me quite a few gray hairs if you had brought him over a lot sooner.”

You grin widely at that. “Sorry, Doctor,” you apologize with a light laugh. “But it needed to be his own decision to come. He wouldn’t have accepted if he thought the offer had been handed to him because of me.”

“I can understand that,” he nods along to your words. “Well, why don’t you take the rest of the evening off and go enjoy the fair with your man?”

You look up at him in surprise. “Really?”

He smiles fondly down at you. “You won’t have much time to spend with him once we’re at the base. And I can now rest easy, knowing there is a candidate that I can truly put my faith in.”

“I thought scientists didn’t believe in faith.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “This one may have changed his mind.”

You smile victoriously.

“Just make sure he’s not late for the bus tomorrow morning. You and I can head for Camp Lehigh afterward.”

“Of course,” you nod.

“Enjoy your evening, Vic,” he dismisses you, beginning to turn back toward the Recruitment center.

“Thank you, Doctor,” you call after him.

He waves you off before you turn and excitedly hurry toward the direction Steve disappeared to. It takes a minute to find him in the large crowd. It’s definitely not as easy to spot him without those broad shoulders. Eventually, you catch sight of his blonde head of hair and make your way over. You approach him from behind and loop your arm through his.

His head swings over to you, surprise lining his features until his eyes meet yours. “Hey!” he greets you with a toothy grin.

“Erskine gave me the rest of the night off,” you grin back.

“Oh, well do you want to head home now, then?”

You shake your head, still smiling. “No. I want to see the Fair and share a bag of popcorn with my best guy.”

Steve starts to look around. “Well, is he meeting us here, or…” he pretends not to know who you’re talking about.

“Steve!” you laugh and slap his shoulder.

He laughs too. His eyes flicker all over your face and you can almost feel their caress. “I’ve never been anyone’s best guy before.”

“Would a kiss help to convince you?”

“It might.”

You happily lean in until your lips are pressed to his. You keep this one sweet, but short, not wanting to cause a scene that might embarrass you both. “How about now?” you ask, tilting your head to rest your forehead against his.

“I think I’m getting there.” His words tickle your cheeks.

You laugh, pulling back. With your arm still linked through his, you tug Steve toward the closest popcorn stand. He holds the bag while you happily munch on the salty snack and look around at the exhibits. You find it absolutely hilarious how dated all of these latest and greatest inventions all are. It’s almost difficult to keep it to yourself.

You’re highly amused and thoroughly enjoying yourself, but your internal commentary is far more entertaining than the actual exhibits. Mostly, you’re just enjoying what little time you have left with Steve. As the crowds begin to thin out and the night air starts to grow colder, you and Steve decide that it’s time to head back home.

The two of you walk through the door hand in hand. You feel lighter than air and you’re just so happy that you can now kiss him whenever you want. And you did. Multiple times on the journey home. The blissed-out expression hasn’t left his face all night and it just makes you want to kiss him even more. The way your heart pounds in your chest makes this feel like new love, even though you’ve been in love with him for years.

You’re barely able to let go of each other long enough to get ready for bed. And even once you are both tucked away for the night, you’re more wrapped up in each other than in the blankets. You pull out of, yet another, lengthy lip-lock. He’s getting better with each one, picking up on your cues and responding in kind. It makes you feel like a teenager all over again. Making out with your boyfriend in the dark. Getting drunk and giggly off of his kisses. Steve is breathless by the end of every one, but like a champ, he keeps coming back for more.

“We should sleep,” you whisper, trying to be the voice of reason. “You need to be at the bus station bright and early and you still need to pack.”

“Just one more,” he insists, leaning forward and stealing your lips back. You can’t protest and he damn well knows it. With your hand at the back of his neck, your nails scratch at the shorter hairs right at his nape. His own hand presses against the middle of your back, pushing your body even closer to his. You can feel his arousal against your lower abdomen, but he doesn’t act on it. If you thought he was ready for it, you’d try to get him to, but for now, you’re content with just kissing him.

You pull back once again. While he catches his breath, you duck your head down, tucking it beneath his chin and bury your face into his chest. “Okay, now we’re really going to sleep,” you urge, safely tucked out of reach.

“Fine,” he sighs stubbornly, tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hair.

You laugh and your breath causes his skin to tingle. “Good night, Steve.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he responds. “Sweet dreams, Vic.”

A content hum leaves your throat as your muscles begin to relax. “Who needs sweet dreams when this is so much better?”

For the first time in a long time, Steve falls asleep with a smile on his face.

The two of you pack up together when morning comes. You’ve slipped back into your military uniform and have taken the dark green dress coat out of your suitcase to help cover the mended bullet holes in your shirt and to make room for you to pack away your toiletry bag and first aid kit.

You look around Steve’s bedroom to make sure you’ve got everything. The glint of metal catches your eye from the top of the dresser inside the closet. Stepping closer, you find that it’s the pistol you took from those Hydra agents at the beginning of the week. God, that feels like a lifetime ago. Glancing around to make sure you’re still alone, you grab the gun and take it to your suitcase. It may come in handy later. You pull out the magazine and check the chamber before tucking the gun away and closing up the suitcase.

Lifting it by the handle, you walk out of Steve’s room. You pause as you enter the living room, smiling at the sight before you. Steve is sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his bookshelf. His suitcase is only half-filled with clothing and he’s packing books into the other half.

“You’re probably going to be the only person showing up with books in their suitcase,” you laugh lightly.

He looks up from the two books he has in either hand and grins. “You’re the one that said I should stand out.” He puts one book into the case and places the other back on the shelf.

“Valid point.” You move to set your suitcase down by the front door. “You almost ready?”

“Almost.” He reaches up to grab a picture frame that sits on top of the bookshelf, next to the radio.

“Is that your parents?” you ask, looking at the black and white photo over his shoulder. It shows a pretty blonde woman and a man dressed in a World War I uniform.

“Yeah. They took this the day he shipped out. Ma was already pregnant with me, but didn’t know it, yet.” Turning the frame around, he unlatches the back door and pulls the photo out. He tucks it for safekeeping under the hardcover of one of his books before placing the empty frame back on the shelf.

He pulls the trunk closed and flips the latches to lock it shut. He then pushes up onto his feet with a small grunt. “Well, I guess I’m as ready as I can get. I still kind of feel like I’m not completely sure what I’m getting myself into.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Just think of this as your next adventure.”

You each carry your own suitcases out of the apartment and Steve turns around to lock the front door. You take one last look at the place. If everything goes according to plan, you’ll never end up back here. It’s a bittersweet feeling. You may have only stayed here for a week, but it was long enough to make this place feel like a home to you. You’re going to cherish the memories that were created here.

“Shall we?” Steve asks after making sure that the door is securely locked.

“We shall,” you nod, taking his hand in yours and carrying your suitcase with the other. The two of you walk down the steps and out onto the street, hailing a taxi next. The driver pulls over and steps out to help you place your bags into the trunk of the car. Steve holds the door open for you to take a seat in the back before sliding in after you.

He gives the driver instructions to take you both to the bus depot where he’s been told to report. As the taxi takes off, you notice the way Steve’s leg bounces up and down. You’re not sure if it’s from nerves or because he’s excited. It may be a little of both. Reaching over, you take his hand back into yours, threading your fingers between his.

He turns away from the window to meet your gaze, smiling softly when he sees you looking tenderly back at him. He lifts your entwined hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

The taxi soon pulls up to the front of the bus depot. At the back of the turn-about area, you can see that the bus destined for Camp Lehigh is already waiting, a line of men stand out front getting their bags loaded into the side of the bus before boarding. You step out of the taxi from your side and help Steve pull his case from the back. He sets it down on the edge of the sidewalk before turning back to you.

“I’ll see you there, Soldier,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Don’t go easy on me, okay?” he requests.

You smirk openly, “It’s not me you need to worry about.” A picture of Colonel Phillips comes to mind.

He scoffs out a laugh. “Well, don’t tell anyone to go easy on me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you grin, amused by his request. He never likes having things handed to him. “Good luck.”

He grins wide, lifting his suitcase and taking a step back. “I don’t need luck. I’ve got Lady Victory on my side.”

Your heart stops as you’re overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. You’ve heard him say that before. Multiple times. It was basically his default response whenever anyone told him ‘good luck’ during missions. He’d say it with that same cheeky grin and that twinkle in his eyes.

It had to be a coincidence. Right?

Steve is already out of earshot by the time your mind restarts and your default response comes tumbling out. “Love you too, Cap.”

Your heart clenches as your mind begins to race. Is there a deeper meaning here? Something that you’re missing, maybe?

“Where to, Miss?” the taxi driver pulls you out of your thoughts, eager to keep things moving.

“Right…” you pull your focus and get back into the vehicle. You give him the address to Dr. Erskine’s apartment in Queens. The doctor told you to meet him there before an SSR designated driver would show up to take you both to Camp Lehigh.

You watch Steve’s figure through the car window until the taxi pulls out, your mind still racing. It had to just be a coincidence, you surmise and try to push the thought from your mind.

You spend the drive down with Dr. Erskine going over the testing rubric for the recruits. It’s heavily weighted toward the strength side of the spectrum and it makes you wonder just how exactly Steve manages to pull this off. Your Steve never really mentioned much about what actually happened at Camp Lehigh. All he said was that it had been a grueling and intense week of testing and training that his body definitely hadn’t been prepared for. And yet, it also ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him.

As the car pulls onto the base, it drives past all the soldiers marching in formation and standing at attention out on the main field. The driver eventually comes to a stop right outside the officer quarters. You step out of the car on your side and walk around the back to re-join Dr. Erskine. The two of you look over toward the front door of the building where Colonel Phillips is now stepping out.

“Doctor, welcome back.” He greets stepping up to you both and shaking Erskine’s hand. “Who’s this?” he questions, giving you a brief side glance.

“Agent V, sir,” you introduce yourself with a salute.

“She’s my personal assistant,” Erskine explains.

“Since when do you have a personal assistant?”

Erskine gives him a hard look. “Since you gave me only a week to find a candidate.”

Colonel Phillips releases a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them come in. I’m pretty sure I know which one you picked.” He places his hands on his hips and stares you down. “Agent “V”, huh. That short for something?”

You stare back, unflinching. “Victory, sir.”

“Oh boy,” he rolls his eyes. “That sounds like some sorta BS that New York Senator would cook up.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep in the snark.

“Lieutenant, please escort Agent V to her quarters. She’ll be bunking with Agent Carter,” Colonel Phillips orders a passing soldier before turning back to Erskine. “You and I are going to talk about these candidates.”

You turn to find that your driver has already pulled your suitcase from the back of the car for you. You give him your thanks as you take it and then follow the Lieutenant inside. The soldier leads you to a door at the very end of the hall, to the left. You knock once on the door.

“Come in,” you hear from inside.

Turning the knob, you push open the door and step inside. The room looks similar to a college dorm. Two matching twin-sized beds, two matching desks, two sets of drawers. There’s a door immediately to the right, which you assume is the bathroom.

Peggy sits at the desk closest to the door, various papers spread across its surface. “Can I help you?” she asks, pushing her chair out to stand.

“I’m Agent V,” you introduce yourself. “I’m here as Dr. Erskine’s assistant. Colonel Phillips instructed me to stay here.”

“A pleasure to meet you, I’m Agent Carter.” She reaches her hand out to greet you.

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling like an absolute idiot. You never dreamed you’d get to meet this woman. She was an absolute legend amongst female SHIELD Agents.

“God knows we could certainly use another woman around here,” Peggy smiles, gesturing for you to come further into the room. “Sheets for your bed should be in the top drawer to the right. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” you smile kindly. You glance at the paperwork on her desk as you pass by before you set your suitcase down next to your bed. “Are you looking over the reports for the new recruits?”

“Yes,” she stands next to the desk and brushes her fingers over the papers. “Colonel Phillips has made it clear that we are picking our subject from this group. We won’t see the men until tomorrow morning, but just based on their recruitment reports, it’s obvious there’s one that doesn’t seem to belong with the rest.”

You can’t help but chuckle under your breath. “You’re talking about Steve Rogers, aren’t you?” Peggy looks up from the paperwork to meet your gaze. “Dr. Erskine picked Rogers out himself.”

She nods, “I saw the signature of approval, I just can’t figure out why.”

You grin widely, “I think you’ll know by the end of the week.”

She finds herself matching your smile. “Well, now I’m intrigued.”

You laugh briefly and turn to get your suitcase unpacked and your bed made. Steve had once told you that the romance portrayed between himself and Agent Carter had been purely propaganda for the media. Sure, he’d respected the hell out of her, but he only ever saw her as a friend. And supposedly, the feelings had been mutual, so you had no reason to feel threatened by her presence.

“Where are the recruits now?” you ask while stuffing your pillow into a white cotton pillowcase.

“Getting fitted for their uniforms and having their dog tags stamped out. After that, they’ll spend the next several hours filling out paperwork.”

You release a low hum, “Lucky them.”

Part 6

#steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve x reader #40s steve x reader #captain america x reader

453 notes · View notes

beautifulmadnesss · 4 years ago

Text

“Mirror of Erised”Potter!Reader Imagine

A/N I’m not quite sure how to title this. I guess there is some Lupin/Reader in a fatherly way, but mostly it’s just a lot of angst about James and Lily’s daughter reacting to Sirius’s death with the Mirror of Erised.

I approached it from the side, not sure I was ready fo face what I knew was waiting for me in the reflection. When I was ready, I took a deep breath and walked forward. The moment I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, all of the tears I was holding back released. I collapsed to the floor in a heap. My body convulsed with the force of the sobs coming from my aching chest. I pulled my knees tight to my chest and buried my head, unable to face the family I would never have. The anger came next. Bubbling up and exploding in a scream. It wasn’t enough that I would never be able to feel my mother’s fingers in my hair, comforting me as I cried. I would never get to laugh at my father praising my efforts to rebel while my mother chastised him. Harry would never get to hear our dad cheering for him in a match or beam with pride seeing him win the house cup. We would never gather for a family Christmas in our own home or get to experience what it’s like to be held by the person who helped shape us into the people we are today. All the things I had never let myself imagine before Sirius. It wasn’t fair that we got to experience just enough to make it agonizing to lose.

The anger propelled me to my feet and I spun around wildly until I found the nearest object to destroy. My entire body was trembling and my mind was swirling with falsified memories of a life I would never have. Hatred for Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Dudley, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Umbridge, Pettigrew, Barty Crouch Jr, and all the other people who had hurt me burned furiously. I wanted to make them hurt in the same way they had hurt me. I wanted to destroy every inch of ground they touched, any good thing in their lives I wanted to rip it away, to watch it crumble before their eyes. I wanted them to feel what it was like to always be afraid when you were happy because you know eventually someone will be there to turn it to ruins and you will be left completely alone with nothing but regret for letting another person die because of you.

“You have to stop!” I was snapped out of my thoughts and back into the classroom. I gasped when I saw the destruction surrounding me. The tables and chairs that were once in neat rows had now been scattered to the sides of the room and were now blazing with fire. Harry was the one who was yelling at me, but he couldn’t come much past the doorway due to the quickly growing fire. All of my anger quickly gave way to fear.

“I can’t find my wand!” I screamed, quickly followed by coughing. The room was rapidly filling with smoke as well as the completely out of control fire. My eyes were burning and I blinked rapidly through hazy vision.

“What do you mean, then how did you do this?” He shouted back over the flames.

“I don’t know,” I replied feeling completely lost and honestly terrified. “Harry, what do I do?” I wailed.

“Just wait here, I’ll get Lupin.” He turned and ran off before I could beg him to stay. I went to face the mirror again only to find it consumed with fire, though it didn’t appear to be affecting it at all.

I coughed again, feeling the smoke building up in my lungs and making it difficult to breath. The seconds felt like hours as I helplessly watched the room burn around me. How could I have done this? The crackling seemed to deafening out all other sounds, pounding in my ears.

What if I hadn’t heard Harry when I did? I suddenly thought. I could’ve killed him. He would’ve been dead and it would be all my fault. There is no way I would be able to defeat Voldemort on my own. He was the one who was brave and kind and noble.

My knees gave out as my rapid breathing brought more and more smoke into my lungs. I panicked as I also noticed the fire growing more and more, climbing up the walls and now encompassing the ceiling as well. How long before it spread through the castle and killed someone?

“My fault.” I moaned, my lungs still attempting to expel all of the smoke.

“You have to listen to me, please,” Lupins voice pulled me back to my senses. I felt his hands gripping my shoulders and noticed that it was slightly easier to breathe. “Look at me.” He commanded.

I lifted my green eyes to meet his and some part of me wondered if he even saw my mother in them, just as everyone else. He couldn’t, not now. My mother was the complete opposite of me. I may have her eyes, her hair, and her freckles, but I didn’t have her talent for potions, her natural charm, and most defiantly not the selfless love that protected Harry and I.

“You have to calm down. I can put this fire out, but you must calm down or it will only continue to grow,” his voice was soft and gentle, but I shook my head.

“This is all my fault. Everything is all my fault. She died to protect me and all I do is get people killed.”

“That isn’t true. You know it’s not.”

“Yes it is!” I erupted and so did the room, though I noticed that Lupin must have some sort of charm surrounding us, because I didn’t feel the heat or the smoke. “My parents died because we existed, Ginny nearly died because someone wanted to get to us. Cedric died because I made him go into the tournament and then he was murdered just for being in the way. Sirius died because it was my idea to go to the Ministry. How many people are going to die because of me? I’m not a good person like Harry is. He always does the right thing and I still have no idea why I’m in Gryffindor because look at what a monster I am.” He glanced at the still growing fire wearily, but quickly turned back to me.

“Your father did some terrible things, but he wasn’t a bad person and neither are you. You have been through horrible things and have an enormous amount of pressure on you, but you are not a bad person. The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor because it saw your pure heart. You feel things so deeply and you can use that for good.” He moved his hands to hold mine. “You are not a monster and those deaths are not your fault.”

“I’m scared,” I whimpered. “I don’t even know how I did this. I was just so angry and I wanted them to hurt like I do. I wanted to destroy them because of what they did. What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re just a kid. It’s okay to be scared and it’s okay to be angry. That doesn’t make you the same as them.” He squeezed my hands reassuringly and I nodded.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Accio wand,” he cried and seconds later he was holding my wand, which was miraculously unscathed. He handed it to me with a small smile before standing and turning his attention to the fire. After a few moments he was able to get the fire doused completely with the water emitting from his wand.

“Thank you,” I said softly, still feeling guilty, though I knew the room could be magically repaired I still shuddered at the thought of what I could’ve done.

“You doubt yourself far too much. I’ve seen the good you can do. You are an incredibly powerful witch. I saw it with your patronus in your third year, though don’t tell your brother you got yours first,” he added with a laugh, earning a small smile from me. “Even now, to be performing wandless magic is exceptional talent. I know that you tend to use your magical practice for similar uses as your father, from the times I caught you with the Weasley twins, but I also know that you can do incredible things. Don’t count yourself out just because you aren’t perfect.” I hugged him gratefully. “He would be proud of you and so would she. Don’t ever doubt that for a moment.”

A/N I’m writing everyday for NaNoWriMo, so send me requests :)

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #potter!reader #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #James potter #lily potter #sirius black #imagine

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