#might be my 7th drawing of them snuggling?

[rustingcat]

Safe♥️

[gryffindormischief]

Prompt: After a busy period in their respective works, married hinny cant find time to be intimate even though the kids are at hogwarts and they have the house all to themselves. Finally having enough of not seeing each other, one of them storms into the office of the other

A/N: A combo of 3 prompts (other 2 listed below)! I won't say any of the are exactly following the prompt because that would be a definite lie. I got carried away with the inspiration and this happened. Hope you like! It's my first hinny in what feels like a super long time??

FF // Ao3

“I am very young, very foolish, and very in love with you.”

AHEM do one where uh AHEM Harry and Ginny are left alone while everyone else is buying their Christmas presents and they ᵇᵃⁿᵍ and Ginny is like ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ and they almost get caught but like they dont and the next day Ron finds out and is pissed NEY livid at Harry and Hermione and Neville calm him down Jus wondering man 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

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Operose

It sounds great when your supervisor says ‘shadow me’, at least theoretically it does. Experience, new learning opportunities, the unspoken expectation that this means promotions are in your future. Even better when your husband gets a similar offer from his supervisor and you start to sound like a power couple even if you feel a bit like an imposter, like the 14-year-old version of yourself woke up in your 22-year-old body, like you’ve secretly fooled everyone into thinking you’re competent.

But really that’s not the worst of it, because Ginny’s become a bit of an expert in talking herself out of that kind of mindset. It’s peaks and valleys. The real sticking point of trouble is the fact that between work and family, she and Harry haven’t had that magic combination of time, energy, and privacy to allow for a conversation about everything, let alone some bonding that’s less conversational in the traditional sense.

Regardless, Ginny hardly has enough time to think about what she wants to be doing since she barely has time enough to do what she must. And it might seem the best option is drawing boundaries with the family but it’s nearing Christmas and she can’t resist the little puppy dog looks starting with Molly and running all the way through the group to Teddy and Victoire. Sometimes, in her sleep deprived stupors looking over more gameplay strategy charts than she ever dreamed of as captain in her 7th year, Ginny wonders if Ron’s convinced them all to join his conspiracy to prevent her from getting any. Lucky for her brother, Ginny knows her judgment has to be clouded, because it’s quarter past eight and she’s actually excited she might wrap up ‘early’, which lately has come to mean before ten.

With a long suffering sigh, Ginny lifts her pen - a fancy muggle style one from Harry - and resumes her notes. The inky little players flit about the page when Ginny taps it with her wand and she scribbles away until the door behind her slams open with a heart-stopping bang.

Ginny has her wand at the intruder’s throat in seconds, her wheely chair squeaking across the floor until it thuds against the wall. “What the fu- Harry?”

“Gin - I miss you. Even though we’re together and we share a bed and - ”

“Oh hell Harry,” Ginny groans, surging forward to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck.

Ginny of a few months ago might’ve been shocked, but she wants to hold him more than anything else. In fact three minutes ago Ginny probably would’ve thought her first reaction would be to drag Harry toward her until she hopped her little bum up on the desk and then - maybe she still does want that.

But first she just wants to smell him.

“Miss you too,” Ginny finally mumbles against his neck, “So much.”

“I know you’re busy - I managed to wrap up my must do’s for the next fourteen hours. And Robards is emotionally torn about my overtime and his own improved sleep schedule.”

“So?”

“So he told me to go home.”

Ginny snuggles closer. “And?”

Harry laughs against her hair. “And be back at ten tomorrow.”

“What a guy.”

“Stand up bloke,” Harry agrees dryly, “Are you…”

“I guess…I guess my sense about what is and is not absolutely time sensitive might have become a bit suspect lately.”

“Which means?” Harry asks, pressing his lips to her temple.

Ginny leans back and teases her fingers through Harry’s messy waves. “Which means you and your friend down below can get reacquainted with me and my - ”

With a low groan, Harry hoists her onto the desk and runs his hands up her back, dragging her t-shirt up with them. Ginny follows his lead, picks up on it even, deepening the kiss until Harry pulls away.

“Why’d you pull away?”

Harry’s thumb brushes along her cheekbone, his eyes soft and searching like he’s trying to memorize every inch of her face. “I am very young, very foolish, and very in love with you.”

“Not that young gramps,” Ginny laughs, flicking at the handful of greys that have appeared at his temple.

“Twenty three, Gin! I can’t control my hair’s inability to count years.”

Sighing, Ginny tugs him closer by tightening her legs around his hips. “I’m not complaining, not really. Except your new haircut and those little silvery bits - I nearly tackled you at Sunday dinner last week, family or no. It’s quite disturbing.”

“Well I’m sorry I’m so sexy,” Harry says with a chuckle, brushing her hair back from her face, the softness a direct contradiction to his brash words.

“On days where I can’t do anything about it, me too.”

“So does that mean - ”

A large feline - Ginny’s not a zoologist - patronus leaps into view and immediately pulls Harry’s gaze. His clear disappointment and slumped shoulders are something of a comfort but Ginny can’t really summon up much emotion beyond a long growl. Disappointed rather than satisfied unfortunately.

“I could - ”

“You can’t Harry. Remember one of the things I like so much about you?”

“My arse?”

“Hmm that is a good bit,” Ginny says with a smile, “But the part - the thing I want you to remember no matter how annoyed and short tempered and grumbly I may ever get, I know your desire to protect and do the right thing is part of you.”

He laughs a little, self deprecating, and Ginny brushes her thumb along his jaw. “Not that I won’t say you get carried away at times. But I love you, even the bits that tend to give me unresolved desires.”

Harry leans in, gives her a long, lingering kiss. “Paused, not abandoned.”

Ginny pats his cheek, then nudges his face sideways with a playful tap. “I’ll save your place.”

And she does, at least in her mind, fingers reaching up to toy with the place on her neck Harry had abandoned with tangible devastation. It’s a small comfort as she powers through a few more tasks before bundling up and returning to their flat for a quiet night.

A quiet, lonesome night.

She’s exhausted, sore, and admittedly partaking in something of a pity party, so she’s in bed within 30 minutes of arriving home. Her limbs are weighty with sleep when she wakes to Harry slipping between the sheets as quietly and gently as he can manage. Which she has learned over their year or so of marriage is not much. Mostly, she finds better rest knowing he’s home and safe.

Somewhat clumsily, she reaches backward to encourage some kind of cuddle-style physical contact and Harry takes the hint, slinging one arm over her waist and pulling her close. His breath is warm across her neck when he murmurs some string of unintelligible words that includes her name.

The last vestiges of stress melt from her muscles with Harry’s light squeeze and quiet, “Love you,” until Ginny drifts back off to sleep.

Despite growing knowledge that it’s bad for their health in all senses of the idea, Ginny and Harry’s schedules don’t really let up. They gripe, eat rushed dinners in each other’s offices, melt into exhausted heaps in bed, and to Ron’s great annoyance share heated looks across the family table.

“It’s not even noon and there are children present,” Ron barks one Sunday as winter winds whistle around the Burrow.

Harry jolts from the sudden sound but his gaze is slow to leave hers. In fact he’s still half looking her way when he growls back, “You’re the only one who seems to have a problem with me looking at my wife.”

Charlie muffles his laughter behind a forkful of quiche and nudges Ginny’s side. “Frustrated Harry versus embattled Ron.”

“Hermione’s still not letting it go?”

“You didn’t see how long he paused when she unveiled the matching hats.”

Ginny snickers and looks up since she can practically feel Harry’s eyes on her. He’s smirking like he can guess some teasing of Ron is taking place, Harry has something of a sixth sense for it.

“How bad were they?”

Charlie shakes his head. “So many pom poms, Ginny. He looked like a Pygmy Puff.”

He laughs, but stops almost immediately and shoots a furtive glance toward Hermione.

“Worse than a Horntail when she’s mad, eh?” Ginny whispers, grabbing two drop biscuits and passing one to Charlie. “Eat up. If she heard that little observation it might be your last meal.”

Charlie’s reply is lost to Molly and George’s rising voices. “What do you mean coming over tomorrow?”

“Angie’s parents, it’s not a big deal.”

Angelina flicks him in the forehead. “I told you to tell her a week ago.”

“I know but - ”

“You said you did!”

Molly shoves away from the table, nearly tipping it in her rush. She would have without Bill’s quick grab. “Mum!”

Arthur gives a warning shake of his head in Bill’s direction and rises next to Molly. “Dear we can - ”

“I don’t even have gifts for them yet - they’ll think I don’t - George!”

“Yes Mummy?” George answers with just the right amount of sass to truly send Molly into a tailspin.

Luckily, Percy of all people jumps in and quells the rising fire. “Mum, why don’t you head to the shops, get prepped for tomorrow. It’s still early!”

​​”The parents, the grandparents, the cousins! Family deserves heartfelt knitting.”

“They can have a couple of hats,” Hermione mutters, narrowed eyes darting toward Ron.

“Bloody Buggering hell, I like the fu- ”

“Ron I may cross with your brother but I’m not deaf.”

Harry quietly excuses himself to the garden, and Ron watches him go longingly, “Mate I’ll come - ”

Harry waves him off while Hermione scoffs and disappears with a pop. Bill’s just picked up Victoire and started ushering Fleur to the fireplace so he nudges Ron in the back on his way past, “You have duties elsewhere. The Boy Who Robbed Gringotts can handle himself for a bit.”

Somehow, Angelina and Arthur manage to broker a peace between their spouses and Ginny really wants to avoid accidentally being invited to the impromptu nightmare of a shopping trip so she pats her mother on the shoulder and grabs an armful of dishes. “Go on Mum, I’ll handle things here.”

Soon, sooner than Ginny thought possible, the Burrow is quiet save the slow rush of water as she scrubs each dish by hand. It’s perhaps more manual labor than necessary, but Harry’s got her hooked on - Harry. She nearly drops the plate in her hand when she realizes she and Harry are alone together during the day for the first time in a hideously long period.

With quick, decisive strokes of her wand, Ginny soon has plates hovering over the soapy water and the scrub brush and towel working away. Leftovers are next, packed away and shuffled into the icebox like little soldiers marching off to their barracks.

Then she’s tucking her wand away and practically sprinting out to the yard to find Harry. Only to run directly into him and nearly knock them both unconscious with the force of the blow.

Instead Ginny’s left with a smarting tailbone and a half dazed husband currently looming overhead. She’s not completely displeased.

Laughter slowly rumbles from Harry’s chest. He buries his face in her hair and finally sighs. “Great minds?”

Ginny scratches lightly at his back. “Great minds end up in a heap on the floor?”

Harry runs his fingers down Ginny’s arms ‘til they reach her hands. He presses a short kiss to her lips. “Not much to complain about.”

As she plants her feet on the floor, rag rug soft beneath her toes, Harry drags her arms overhead and holds them in place with gentle firmness.

Her eyes dart to his and he waits, breathing suddenly strained, until she gives a brief nod. At her approval, Harry presses lightly, a quiet instruction to keep her hands in place while he begins exploring behind her ear, down her neck, along her collarbone.

For a moment, Ginny forgets herself and one hand ends up knit through Harry’s soft locks but she soon earns a low growl that sends her heart pounding. “Gin.”

Obedient, she raises her hand back overhead, though she does lift her hips lightly. She’s never good at complete patience.

Harry laughs against her lips while he palms her rear, bringing her hips flush with his. While he continues his exploration of the deep v of her t-shirt, Ginny grasps desperately overhead, one hand finally finding a chair leg she holds onto for dear life.

The rough wood reminds her of their precarious location, the numerous options at their disposal that would suit their needs much better. But it’s been too long and she’s so desperate and half believes if they try and relocate it’ll all fall apart.

Right now, she would like to do the falling apart herself.

Warmth pools low in her belly as Harry presses kisses over her shirt, like he’s too mad with need to even pause to pull it overhead. His thumbs have snuck under the hem, drawing distracting circles above her hipbones, teasing below the waistband of her shorts.

Ginny lifts her hips again, this time without Harry’s prompting and he groans, fingers finally fumbling at the snap on her shorts.

She’s halfway gone already and he hasn’t even discovered she’s wearing his favorite polka-dot knickers yet.

And then, like all good things, the gorgeous interlude is interrupted by her most obnoxious and untimely brother.

“Bloody hell!”

Ginny tips her head backward as much as she can manage, hairs catching on the wood floor. “Can we help you Ron?”

His shock is a bit overdone, in Ginny’s opinion. He’s seconds away from dropping the plate in his hands and they haven’t even unbuckled trousers yet. What a drama queen.

“In the kitchen Gin? In front of my biscuits?!” Ron gestures with the dish wildly enough that an oatmeal raisin drops to the floor.

Harry’s buried his face in the valley of her chest, though it seems it’s more to calm himself than titillate. “Ron?”

Ron truly appears near tossing up his brunch when he answers, “Yes?”

“Buzz off.”

Green pallor turns red as Ron slams the biscuits on the table. “That’ll teach me to try and help my ex best mate.

After one final deep breath, Harry sits up on his heels and levels an unimpressed glare Ron’s way. “Oh bugger off you’re just avoiding Hermione.”

“No biscuits for you! And you can finish the yard yourself.”

Harry nudges Ginny’s knee and she tilts her head back to a comfortable position. Once she’s recovered from the bit of vertigo, she finds Harry looking at her meaningfully. She can only hope her interpretation is correct.

Quickly enough, she learns she knows her husband’s looks quite well since he’s reaching for one of her hands to help her to her feet and gesturing to the kitchen and yard with his free arm. “Ron, since you’re here you can finish up right? Good.”

Ginny only has a half a moment to enjoy Ron’s fish-like gaping before she feels that tell-tale tug behind her navel and watches the kitchen disappear and landing with one pop in their quiet flat.

“Up you get, Potter,” Harry instructs, gesturing toward the bed with a tilt of his head.

She pauses long enough to take Harry in - hands on hips, the twisting cords of muscle in his forearms - and then follows instruction and hops up with a few squeaks of bedsprings. “Come and get me.”

[seriouslysnape]

HIii! I was wondering if you could write something Fred (6th/7th year) x Gryffindor Reader (i know u dont usually write him) maybe something where reader and fred are best friends and shes in love with him but she thinks he dosent like her that way with a fuffy ending? maybe some angst not too much tho thank youuu <3 if you dont want to write fred (😭) you can write it for lupin (6th/7th year)

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His Favorite Girl

Fred Weasley x Gryffindor! Reader

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 3,430

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.”

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The Gryffindor common room. An ever changing space for all Gryffindor students to unwind, study, or party, depending on the occasion. The common room was always crowded from wall to wall after a Quidditch match, especially when Gryffindor reigned victorious. The players all filed in, bursting with good energy and an itch to celebrate their win. Oliver Wood exploded inside first with an unmistakably beaming smile spreading across his face.

The Gryffindor students who hadn’t been able to make it to watch the match automatically knew that they had won based on Oliver’s visible jubilant mood. You were one of the unfortunate ones that hadn’t been able to make it, but you knew that the team would bring the party to you. The Weasley twins came bopping in next, George carrying a very happy Harry Potter on his shoulders. Harry leapt off of George’s shoulders before the tall twin could knock him into the top of the doorframe.

Your sights automatically set on the other Weasley twin. Fred was beaming with delight at their impressive win. Fred was damn proud to be a Gryffindor, and beating the brakes off of Slytherin was one of his favorite pastimes. He couldn’t be any happier at this moment. It warmed your heart to see him so joyful and full of glee.

You raked over his tall, slender yet muscular frame. His signature red hair was damp with sweat and parts of his face were caked with dirt.

Fred caught your stare, his smile never leaving his face as he gave you a friendly wink. You closed the Potions book in your lap, getting up from the sofa with a silent hope that your thumping heartbeat wasn’t obvious to anyone.

It was a hard thing to do. Keeping your ever growing crush and admiration for Fred Weasley under wraps was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. The seemingly simple solution (as all of your friends had told you) to do would be to “just tell him” how you felt. But it was MUCH easier said than done.

There were so many things that could possibly go wrong if you were to confess your feelings to Fred. You would be running the risk of ruining a beautiful friendship that had done nothing but blossom over the last seven years if he didn’t share that same admiration. You didn’t want to lose your best friend just because your heart felt differently than his.

At the same time, you wanted to tell him every scrap and ounce of how your soul felt lost without him. There had been a few times over the years where you had an opportunity to lay your heart out on the line for him. Each time you had this heavy feeling in your chest letting you know you needed to make a move.

You built up the courage each time, but were interrupted by George or another one of your friends before you could bite the bullet. You knew it wasn’t healthy to keep this holed away in yourself. Your love would only grow more. The more days that passed, the more you began to wonder how different your life would be if you never told him. Not to mention that graduation was only a few months away, and there was always the risk of losing contact with him when you went separate ways.

That is, IF you were to go separate ways.

On the other side of the coin, there was always a chance that Fred possibly did harbor the same admiration for you. That would totally change things in the long run. The idea of starting a romantic relationship, possibly getting married, and having a family was nothing short of perfect.

But you had to get to that point first.

Everyone rallied around Harry, shaking him excitedly and singing their praises to him for his incredible Snitch catch. Suddenly, blaring and thunderous chatter filled the common room as more exhilarated students piled in. Within the hour, a sea of Gryffindors occupied the room, complete with blasting music and an ungodly amount of alcohol.

Oliver had gathered a crowd of first years in one corner of the common room as he retold every solitary second of the match from his point of view, starting from the very beginning. The wide eyed first year wizards and witches were on the edge of their seats as they listened to his story, some of them beginning to wonder if they had what it took to be great Quidditch players.

On the other side of the room, you were settled once again on the sofa with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, who were seated in the arm chairs across from you. They were exhausted from playing all day, but that didn’t stop them from engaging in some girl talk.

Alicia and Katie were your dearest friends, and they were the only ones who knew about your crush on Fred. A crush that had quite honestly evolved into something much more. They were always keeping an ear out to see if Fred said anything remotely leading them to believe that he might like you back. As surprising as it was, Fred never really outwardly spoke about his romantic side.

Speaking of, Fred and George were in another corner of the room with Harry and Ron, doing God only knows what. Fred was considerably tipsy, but nothing even close to plastered. You had seen Fred drunk before, and needless to say, it was a hysterical sight.

“So, [Y/N],” Alicia spoke up, her dark skin looking extra glowy from the fire roaring in the fireplace; “Fred was awfully excited to come back to tell you that we won.”

Katie perked up, her head lifting from where it had been leaning on the back of the chair.

“Yeah! The first thing that he told George was that he couldn’t wait to tell you the news. Although, I guess Oliver kind of told everyone before Fred had the chance.”

“Really? He said that?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Alicia nodded vigorously, gripping Katie’s forearm with elation. Alicia and Katie had never tried to set the two of you up, mainly because you had begged them not to. That didn’t stop them from trying to be the ultimate wingwomen. They believed that you and Fred would be a stellar couple. They were convinced you were made for one another.

They both feared that you’d never make an attempt to make it happen.

“He sure did. I heard him myself.” Katie replied.

Alicia glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward closer to you. Her voice was quiet, loud enough so only you and Katie could hear as she spoke.

“Graduation is coming up quickly. You’ve got to tell him.” She advised.

You sighed heavily. If you had a galleon for every time one of them had told you that, you’d be a wealthy woman. They just didn’t seem to get that it just isn’t that easy. You wouldn’t deny that proclaiming your deepest secret to someone didn’t scare you. It was terrifying to offer your heart and soul to someone, even when you knew that they might get broken as a result. You didn’t want to live with a broken heart.

But you didn’t want to live always asking yourself “what if”.

Before you could respond, a figure plopped themself next to you, his familiar scent sending flutters all through you. Fred basically snuggled up next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Despite the fact that you weren’t dating, Fred was comfortable enough with you to get extremely close, which didn’t help your situation at all.

Alicia and Katie held down their snickers and giggles at how you were clearly flustered. You tried not to wriggle too much under Fred’s hold, and draw any attention to yourself. He was your best friend, and you knew how to play it cool when he was around.

“Hi, [Y/N].” Fred slurred loudly over the noise.

You laughed softly at the smell of Firewhiskey that was radiating off of him. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you’d have a drink with Fred from time to time.

“Hey, Fred. Congratulations on the match.” You complimented.

Fred grinned proudly, looking down at your slumped body. His eyes were beginning to glaze over from the alcohol, but he looked as sober as ever. He had a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify.

“Thanks. Those bloody Slytherins got what they deserved.” He stated.

“Oliver seems over the moon with how it went.” You remarked, smiling as you looked behind you to see Oliver now standing on a table as he continued telling his thrilling tale.

When you turned back to Fred, you couldn’t help but notice how Fred hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. The butterflies in your belly were going totally bananas now. His gaze did eventually shift to the Potions book that was placed next to your feet, and he let out a guttural sound. He reached for it, noting that it had obviously been put to good use in the last several hours.

“Have you been studying?” He questioned, holding the book in his hand.

You sheepishly nodded, aimlessly reaching for the textbook. An offended look crossed Fred’s face as he held the book far out of your reach. Damn his long arms.

“I have a test on Monday. Advanced Potions is kicking my ass this year and I’ve just barely been getting by so I have to study extra time.” You expressed, laughing at your fruitless attempt to get the book back.

His sharp jaw fell open a tad and he stretched back even further to ensure you didn’t get the book back for now.

“You’re kidding me. I missed my favorite girl at the match because she was stuck in the common room studying for a TEST?” He acquired, not even aware of the weight behind his choice of words.

You felt your smile fade into more of a bashful expression. Your body slinked back into the cushions, forgetting all about the book. His words rang in your word.

Favorite girl.

Fred Weasley’s favorite girl.

Alicia and Katie were both wide eyed and jaw dropped at what he had just said. They were looking back and forth between the two of you like they were at an intense tennis match.

Fred was so aloof and oblivious to the fact that he had literally just melted your heart with a single sentence. You spent so much time with Fred that you just didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

Fred knew you backwards and forwards. He could see straight through you when you were lying or when you were sad, but claiming you were fine. He always remembered your favorite treats from Honeydukes and how you liked hot Butterbeer on cold winter nights. It made him happy to hear you talk about your favorite Muggle novels or tell him about something funny that happened in McGonagall’s class. He knew you better than anyone.

But why couldn’t he see the way you were yearning for him?

“You missed me?” You asked, shrinking even further into the cushions.

Fred looked at you as if that were the dumbest question he had ever been graced with. He lowered his arm at your sudden demeanor change, gently putting the book in your hand. Alicia and Katie leaned in carefully, eager to see where this conversation was going. Much to their disappointment, Fred didn’t get a chance to answer due to another member joining you on the couch.

George landed less gracefully than Fred had, basically landing on top of you and smothering you. Your shrieks were muffled in George’s Quidditch robes, Fred wrestling his brother off of you.

“Hey! George, get off of her.” He grunted, heaving his brother’s very limp body off of you.

Alicia threw her hands up in defeat at the interruption, Katie falling back into her chair. So close, yet so far. You gasped for air as George fell on the open seat next to Fred. George was way further gone than Fred. He was barely even able to keep his eyes open, let alone get any real, complete thought across.

“Nice timing, George.” Katie said sarcastically.

You gave her a menacing look, not wanting her to bring it up. George snorted, and his sentence came out more as one incoherent word.

“Did I interrupt something important?” He heavily slurred between hiccups.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to George to ruin this for you. You were discouraged that your chance had been shot down once again, but it wasn’t George’s fault. You were just glad to see your friends in such high spirits. Soon enough, the rest of the party goers had crowded towards the center of the room where you were. The party raged on well into the night, a complete celebration with dancing, singing, and more drinking.

As easily as the party could’ve carried on and on, eventually the famed players’ exhaustion caught up with them and they all slowly dwindled down and sauntered off to their respective dorm rooms. You hugged Alicia and Katie goodnight, knowing they’d be passed out in their beds by the time you got up to your dorm room.

You spoke to Harry and Ron for a bit, giving Harry a friendly kiss on the top of his head for his winning catch. His pasty white cheeks went red as he and Ron retreated to their room in a fit of blushy giggles. That left just you and the twins in the common room that was now completely trashed. Empty cups and half spilled bottles of alcohol were scattered about, people even leaving behind some of their school stuff to be recollected in the morning.

George was a mumbling, intoxicated mess. He was close to falling asleep, and Fred wanted to get him to bed before he was completely unable to stand up. You’d be up for a while cleaning up the common room. You always hated leaving a room knowing it was messy, so you didn’t mind picking up after everyone. Fred knew you’d stay behind to clean up, but he didn’t want you to have to do it alone. He draped his babbling twin over his shoulders, grimacing at how George was usually heavier when he was drunk.

“I’m going to run George upstairs and then I’ll be back to lend you a hand.” He smiled, ignoring the things that George was trying to say to him.

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.” You said, tossing a handful of cups away.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to be lonely is all.” He said, turning on his heel and marching up the boys’ dormitory stairs with George.

You felt a warm flush course through you at his words once more. You weren’t sure why you were extra sensitive to him tonight. Sure enough, Fred returned a few minutes later, almost stumbling into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. You both laughed as he gave a witty comment.

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.” He said, walking into the room once he steadied himself.

“Is George okay?” You asked, accepting the pile of empty bottles that Fred placed into your trash bag.

You usually hand cleaned for the first few minutes, but would eventually grow bored and cast a spell from your wand to finish the work. It was seldom that the common room was this quiet, so you liked to bask in the silence for a little after there was a party.

Fred scoffed with a nod.

“Oh, yeah. He’ll be fine. Nasty hangover in the morning, but there’s a potion for that.”

As usual, the two of you were tired of cleaning, so you waved your wand with a quick cleaning charm. You both watched in amazement as the trash and everything else whisked around the room into trash bins, leaving the room spotless. You put your wand in your back pocket with a satisfied hum. Usually, this would be the time where you went to bed, but you were getting that familiar heavy feeling in your chest.

It immediately dawned on you that you had a perfect chance here. No one was around, and no one would be around for more than enough time.

“You want to sit and chat for a bit?” Fred questioned, noticing your dazed look; “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

The fireplace was still occupied with a cozy warm fire, which was very inviting. You nodded, following Fred to the same couch you had been on earlier. The common room was beyond peaceful now, your head almost lulling onto Fred’s shoulder in relaxation.

Oddly enough, you weren’t freaked out now. In all the past times you had tried to do this, you were a jittery mess and could barely get a word out without stuttering. You felt so at ease now, as if this was something you did often. You hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol tonight, so you couldn’t blame it on that.

“So what’s up?” Fred questioned after you didn’t initiate a conversation.

He had unknowingly opened a door that you knew you had to take. It was now or never.

“I’m just thinking about some things.” You admitted.

Fred’s curiosity was sparked now. He was always interested and willing to hear what was going on in your mind.

“What kind of things?” He pressed on.

Your sights were set on the flames in front of you, causing you to miss the way that Fred was looking at you with such fondness and care. He was cherishing every passing second of this moment.

“You and me.” You confessed.

Fred was filling with anticipation, not sure where you were going with this. He raised a brow.

“What about us?” He replied.

You took a breath.

“Fred, what did you mean when you said I was your favorite girl?” You queried.

Fred looked into your eyes that were peering up at him in a puppy-like way. He noticed that you were expecting an answer. Fred, as confident as ever, responded with a voice like butter, his accent a little thicker.

“Because you’re my favorite person in the world.” He revealed.

Your heart caught in your throat and your breathing hitched. So far so good.

“I am?” You asked to confirm

Fred’s arm that was around you pulled you in closer. You were being flooded with such a sense of intimacy that it was overwhelming. Your nose was level with his chin, and you were so close to his face that you swore you could hear the blood flowing through his face. Fred knew what was happening now, and he was ecstatic about it. He had wanted you all along, but never knew how’d you’d react. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you off.

He thought about all the times he had seen you upset, and how it hurt him when you were pained with something. He always wished for nothing but happiness for you. He didn’t want to ruin things because of how he felt.

But now he was sure that you’d be here to stay.

“Absolutely you are. You’re all I ever think about.” He whispered, stroking your face with the side of his thumb that was wrapped around you.

This didn’t feel real, but felt all too real at the same time.

“Why are you whispering?” You smiled softly, whispering back to him.

He smirked, and whispered again.

“Because I want you to know how much I love you.”

A cannon of confetti seemingly exploded all throughout your body. Shock, desire, lust, love, want, everything went through you all at once. This wasn’t at all how you had imagined this happening, but you were happy that it did. It was very fitting for the two of you.

“Kiss me.” You whispered once more.

He lowered his head and his lips caught yours in a feverish way. All the pent up feelings from the last 6 years all loaded themselves into the kiss. It was a huge weight off of your shoulders.

“I love you,” You professed once Fred pulled away; “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to tell you that.”

Fred chuckled lightly, responding before kissing you again.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

[spacegaywritings]

Love and other tragedies (2/7) “Dreams are my Reality”

Summary: Roman, Patton and Remus grow somewhat closer.

Tags: crying, institutionalised, underlying mental health issues, food mention, implied trauma, talks of doctors and therapy

tumblr: 1 / 2 (you are here) / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 .

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 // all.

 My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

 Story under the cut - Words: ~1k

2nd APR

 Oh, beloved Mary!

 Can you believe it! They are not giving us knives! They said we are in a more intense care unit and cannot be given knives, not even plastic ones.

I am enraged at this but Remus does not seem to mind. Well, he does not even eat.

 The food brought to him stopped and now they give him liquid things. He eats them and I told him I was glad he finally ate because I was worried.

He smiled and hummed but did not say anything. I really think I am helping him get better.

 Yours truly,

Prince Roman.

 PS:

HE CUDDLED WITH ME! I THINK HE TRUSTS ME!

 ROMAn-

  4th APR

 Dearest Mary, my heart and soul !

 Snuggling with the little beta makes my heart swoon. He won over my affections already. I shall be the bestest of friends for him and care like nobody else did before! As a self-declared prince I swore to him I shall slay all his enemies.

Again, he smiled. He looked like a dream, Mary.

 He still comes to lunch with me but shies away from other people.

I really thought he might like Patton.

 Yours,

A sad prince.

  5th APR

 Mary dear, I need to rush !

 They are considering taking the little gremlin away from me. We don’t have keys to lock ourselves in but I did shut the door and I will sit in front of it until they leave. Nobody take him away!

 Roman

  6th APR

 Oh my, oh my. Mary, my heart.

 I might have made a mistake.

They said they wanted to take him to the doctor because he refused to go but I got upset and yelled and he cried and now I feel all ruined inside.

 I am a rotten prince.

We cried together and hugged until he was calm. Then they took him to therapy. He was really tired in his face when he got back and laid on top of me and made funny noises until I held him and then he fell asleep.

I will keep the mean thoughts away from him.

 Yours,

Prince Roman.

  7th APR

 Mary, my love.

 I wish you could speak with me. I wonder what you feel in your heart. I feel fuzzy and it tickles me greatly. When I see him, I smile.

 I apologised to him, once more. This time, I made it a grand thing and offered him a little drawing. We only have crayons because other pens are too sharp, I think. They scratch.

I drew him with a happy smile and said he is lovely.

 Remus teared up and hugged me and I carried him to lunch. He drank his food and I gave him a spoon of my soup. He looked about to cry and Patton said nice things but Remus only hugged me.

 I feel so warm, I could cry.

 Yours,

The loving Prince Roman

  12th APR

 Mary! Mary!

 I cannot believe it!! Maybe if I write it to you, it actually happened!

Remus talked. It was not much but he said my name when he woke up and I almost cried.

 Yours,

Prince Roman!

  13th APR

 Mary of mine!

 Remus tried Patton’s salad.

Things are normal.

 Keep forgetting to write you.. therapy is getting weird and scary but as a good prince, I will face every duty and adventure without fear! I shall continue on my quest to betterment.

 Yours,

A struggling but trying Prince!

  15th APR

 Dear Mary,

 I am allowed to move up into another block soon. Unless I don’t stay stable, they will move me. I will be away from Remus.

They said I will get time to go out and even have kitchen time but I don’t want to go anymore. What is the point of cooking or using cutlery when I can’t be here?

 Patton and I got really close and Remus is a bit more at ease around him. Remus started talking a bit after coming from therapy again. He is going to the doctors again but does not speak about it.

I wonder if he is okay. He is here with me, so he can’t be okay.

 At least he started speaking a bit. It is just a few words at once but he does speak! He repeats things a lot like when he says “soup soup soup!” and he does not stop for a while but that is okay. When I touch him, he goes quiet and snuggles up to him.

I told him I like him very much and he hugged me.

 I feel really confused. I start remembering things and they scare me.

He holds me, now.

 Yours,

Prince Roman.

[lordsicheng]

w1 hyung line as dads please 👀 (astrology wise)

I usually need to check the houses on this (especially 4th/10th house), but I’ll just look into their sun/moon combo and other placements for reference~

Jisung

The soft but loud dad who is always there for his kids

Very loving and understanding as a father

Will look out for you no matter what: you’re his #1 priority

Your biggest cheerleader!!! His sun and moon combo come for a very soft, loving person who gives energy to others at the same time through encouragement

“Y/n, when you grow up I hope you become what you want to be.”

Dreams very big for his child/children

Probably the type to find some cool activities for his kids to do

Definitely the dad who comes up with traveling to places all the time

“Let’s go to Japan… wait, no, how about Hawaii?”

A softie, would only scold his child/children if he knows they have done something wrong

Probably the dad who encourages/is very supportive of his child/children the most if they want to study abroad

Lowkey the embarrassing dad who tries to fit in with the crew when your friends are around

“Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself? It was two tired.”

“Dad please”

“Did you guys know y/n has a stuffed plushie in their closet? They’ve had that ever since they were 3 and calls it Mr. Snuggles″

“DAD NO STOP”

Listens to your problems if you have any, will give you advice if you need them

Ngl, he’s gonna be loud when at home sometimes (think: Sunday mornings where he blasts music from your living room speakers and sings loudly until you’re forced to wake up and sing/dance with him)

Probably the dad to also tease his kids if they’re dating anyone

“Oh, that guy you liked from 7th grade asked you out? Ayeee do you want me to make reservations? Drive you to the meetup place? Do you need money for an outfit?”

Sungwoon

The dad who is like the mom

Just like Jisung, he looks out for his kids all the time

Nurtures them just as much as how their mom would, maybe even more

Naggity nag nag nag 

Aims to provide a very calm and loving atmosphere at home 

Very family oriented, puts them first before anything (Cancer moon)

I see him as the type to always make sure their kids grow up as very loving and kind

Again like Jisung, only scolds his child/children if they’ve done something very wrong but as well makes sure he tells them he loves them and is only looking out for them right after

Can be loud, tries to fit in with the generation of his kids

“Iphone… what? Last time I checked I had an Iphone 7… you’re telling me it’s XV now???”

Actually is good at entertaining people especially if they’re close to his kids/whole family so expect guests often

Worrier tbh, likely even more than the mom

*calls you while you’re still on your way home and stuck in traffic* “Where are you? Are you hanging out with friends? You didn’t tell me beforehand if so. It’s 7:30, we have to eat dinner together-”

“Dad I’m stuck in traffic”

“Oh… could you pass by a convenience store and grab some milk on your way home then please”

Gives all the love he could give to his family even if they grow sick of it

So protective, even if you’ve grown old he’ll show signs of protectiveness and worry

“Okay I know you’re about to get married, but remember to call home often okay….”

But once he sees he has given enough love and nurture to his future kids, he’ll feel very accomplished as a father and would always look at you with a warming smile

Minhyun

The dad who seems serious but isn’t always is

Jokes aside, he’s probably gonna win the award for best father of the year

He balances the proper nurturing and disciplining to himself and I see him to be the type to put this to his future children as well

I also see him somewhat of a strict type– but definitely not the suffocating type of strict, more like he wants to look out for his kids all the time and makes sure they’re doing things right 

The dad who very much supports and encourages their kids to go with their dreams

His Capricorn moon can show somewhat of a placement where he values his future family’s finances, so he’d be pretty good at differentiating the needs and wants for the family– needs are a priority, wants are rewards

Speaking of finances, he’d likely gift his wife and kids often, especially valuable things if his kids have earned it (coughs a car at 18? just graduate with great grades my child)

DAD JOKES, again

Will make sure his family has a routine, like doing chores together one day and then just having lighthearted fun/travelling the next as a reward

“Alright, let’s go out of town tomorrow! But first, the kitchen needs a bit of cleaning…”

Totally would joke around with his kids often even though he can give dry jokes sometimes oops

Doesn’t force himself to fit in with the new generation as he becomes a father, but will make sure he knows what’s up and respects it fully

Nurtures his kids with so much love even if he just gives them a sentence of an advice 

Might also be prone to scolding his future kids if they lie often to him and disrespects him, especially if they’ve done something very wrong (e.g using his credit card without asking)

You? Dating? Get through your father, Minhyun, first

“Oh, I’ve heard you’re taking up engineering? Say, what do you think is the basis of having a good relationship between your course and my kid’s? Would you be able to make a great team for a business?”

Will make sure he provides the best, and only the best for his family

Seongwoo

The straightforward and fun-loving dad who tries to be serious

Compared to the others, Seongwoo would probably slightly more serious than the others

His sun/moon combo makes him as someone who believes that honesty is always the best policy and individuality is necessary

For short, he wants a stable and goal-oriented family in the future

Even though he shows himself as somewhat of a funny guy (still on stance that he has an air rising ok), he actually knows what he is doing and definitely makes decisions quick for his family if he believes it’s the right path

But it doesn’t mean he won’t be in for a little bit of fun, especially when it comes to his kids!

He loves fun, not gonna lie, and may not try to be more serious than usual whenever he lets loose on being with his family

Gives love as if it was always needed in the atmosphere of his home

“Love is always love and everyone deserves it.”

Always make sure there are values and independence within the family

Reminds his kids all the time to always stay humble and work hard in anything they do

His idea of a bonding session with his family? Anything, honestly. Karaoke nights, dining out, shopping, out-of-town trips, name it: He’s got it all planned and covered

“So we’re gonna go to the mall to just hang out, but make sure to not overspend. We’re gonna eat at your mom’s favorite restaurant tonight, too.”

Very thoughtful, also the type to be able to gift their children what they want if they have earned it with his trust

Likely the dad who would have a hard time trying to assure himself his kid is grown up and knows this and that about dating: would go calm one second and paranoid the next

“Be home at 10pm, alright! Don’t be like me when I was a young adult… Also don’t forget to call when you’re on your way home-”

“Dad, it’s only a movie”

“It’S oNLy A mOvIe. How would I know you’re not going somewhere else?”

Makes it a point that every step is a milestone and all goals shall be achieved within the family in the future

Jaehwan

The dad who aspires their children to be different

Of all the hyung line, Jaehwan would definitely be the type to not take his job as a dad seriously

Not that he’d be a bad dad, but he would want freedom to be given to his kids all the time– but at the same time, wants them to work hard on their future endeavors

Values communication within the family, would definitely try to talk to his kids very often even if he’s just asking what they’re up to (Gemini and Virgo [his sun and moon, respectively], are ruled by Mercury, the planet of communication)

Assists everyone in the family on whatever they’re doing, even if it’s their kid’s projects and they don’t have a clue on what to help out on

“Wait, you need to make a poster slogan? Oh… let me see if I can draw a butterfly or something really quick”

“No dad not a butterfly just-”

“GIMME A SECOND I’M GRABBING CRAYONS”

I’ve noticed Gemini placements want to show/encourage others on their own talents, so in this case, Jaehwan would definitely help his kids aspire to be inclined to music as they grow up

His Virgo moon can be quite nitpicky and overthink a lot, so he can sometimes feel the need to see perfectionism within his offsprings

Wants to make his future home an atmosphere where everyone is comfortable enough to make it seem like they never want to leave

He also values creativity within his home with the flair of simplicity

Lowkey nags too but only if he’s seeing something wrong within the family / having problems 

Expect lots of simple artworks in your home, especially statues and figurines of anything music related as he sees this as a way of showing off the family’s individual efforts and talents

Encourages their kids to always find the right time to do this and that, especially when it comes to love and work

“Are you sure you love that person? Alright, as long as they take care of you and not hurt you, I will approve.”

Daniel

The dad who wants his kids to dream big

Both his sun and moon are in Sagittarius, so I see him likely to expect his family to be very open on doing anything

He might also often not take being a father seriously as he sees himself almost like a kid at times

Values proper honesty, love and understanding in the family

Puts the needs of the family first, as always

Aspires to have his kids learn many things as they grow up, especially with his help

Most likely the dad who would encourage/make his family live abroad and start a new life

Or just move pretty often, his sun and moon shows he’s likely the type to want to “move around” a lot

Likely the dad who tries to fit in with his kids/the new generation honestly

“Oh, this gadget is new? How much is it? I’m getting one tomorrow, are those one of the ‘in” stuff kids are using these days?”

Jokes around with his family a lot, might even do pranks with them to their mom/his wife

And when his wife finds out Daniel’s gonna be all sulky when his kids say it was all his idea

“It wasn’t my idea, they told me to do it!”

“Daniel you’re a grown man”

“IT WAS THEIR IDEA I TELL YOU”

Highkey the savage dad because he can smell bullshit right away

Values much freedom within the family, doesn’t want them to feel suffocated on the thought of having to always do boring routines

Makes sure they travel pretty often, tbh, maybe even once a week or two weeks depending on everyone’s time

Will always be supportive of his kids’ dreams, whatever they are as long as they mean no harm 

Sports? Daniel’s likely gonna teach each of his kid at least one sport at a time

He would likely scold only if his kids have done wrong, but he lets his wife do it more than him– he would much rather talk to them in a proper way if so rather than scold them

Also kind of clingy to his wife and kids, only because he wants everyone to always be together and have a home filled with love and respect

[secret-rendezvous1d]

Full House This Christmas

DECEMBER 7TH, 2017.

Alfies first xmas ADDED: Baby Styles first Christmas and you celebrate it at Anne's house. ADDED: Ooohh you should do a cheeky “making out in the car outside of Anne’s house and getting caught by Gemma knocking on the car window” blogmas story

Okay, so, first of all; I need to issue an apology for this coming to you so late. I was on such a roll and then this one stumped a little and I just need a couple of days to really sort it out. I do like how it turned out, though. And I’ve included a number of characters that I don’t think I ever gone passed before... so, that’s an achievement within an achievement. ;))

Second of all; I just want to thank everyone for being so incredibly supportive and loving of this years Blogmas. It’s been some time since I’ve posted a lengthy story and to have so many coming out at once, I’ve realised I’ve missed it a whole lot more than I thought. I love doing my Harry Talks but I love writing stories, a little more, and it feels good to get back in that groove.

Third of all; I thank you for sticking around and giving me feedback to better everything I write. I know, sometimes, it can be a bit of a shambles so I appreciate everything that gets sent in for me to think about. 

Feedback is welcomed, as always.

Enjoy! xx

CHRISTMAS EVE, 12PM. CHESHIRE, HOLMES CHAPEL.

You always loved going back to Cheshire at Christmas-time; probably a tiny amount more than Harry loved the feeling of being back home. And when Anne had suggested a big family Christmas, sparking up the idea after Alfie had been born, it was an offer that neither of you could refuse.

Harry let the car roll down the narrow streets, located on the outskirts of Holmes Chapel, at a casual speed that allowed you to take in the all-too familiar surroundings of a small town you’d always felt welcomed in. The shops, on the high-street, were decorated with tinsel in the windows, jelly stickers were stuck up on the doors to welcome customers, christmas lights strung up and twinkling around the gutters of the bakeries, and chalkboards propped up outside the pubs to inform passersby that Sunday was doing “the best roast dinners in town!” and that booking early guaranteed you a seat. You loved listening to Harry tell Persephone all about where he grew up. Pointing out the shops he used to spend his pocket money in, taking the long way to Anne’s so he could show her the bakery that gave him his first Saturday job, driving passed the parks and telling her all about how he used to scrape his knees on the tarmac when he toppled off the slide or how he cut up his elbows when he fell over on the bark. Hearing your daughter perk up, tapping her fingers against the steamed glass of her window, decorated with drawings and faces, pointing out how the streets and the houses didn’t look anything like what she’d seen in London and that she liked how quiet it was and that it wasn’t so busy; because, for a five-year old, she liked the security of being safe when she was out with her parents and she liked to be somewhere that she could play without horns beeping or having rowdy shouts coming from the down the road or having the constant sounds of cars rolling passed the garden.

It wasn’t long before you were taking the anticipated and excited drive up the familiar street that homed his mother’s house. Already seeing her stood in her front porch, tucked up under her thick dressing gown and nursing a mug of coffee, that was decorated with the cold frost from the morning, where the sun hadn’t quite hit the area to melt the ice. Trees bare and lifeless, that would be littered with apples and leaves of the darkest greens, and standing tall in the front garden. Brown leaves falling into piles on the grass. Cars parked outside, leaving an open space for Harry to park the Rover, belonging to his aunt and uncle and his cousins, who had brought along their respected partners.

“Seff, look who’s waiting for us,” Harry said, twisting the knob of the volume button to the radio and turning down the festive music that hummed through the car, hearing a cheeky giggle come from his daughter as he took a look over his shoulder, seeing her wave frantically with a grin on her lips, “is that nana, yeah? Are you excited to spend Christmas with her again?”

“Yeah! Nana makes the best cookies and gives me loads’a chocolate ice-cream with ‘em, daddy. Said I could help her make them, too,” Persephone nodded, bouncing in her seat as she looked towards her little brother. The four-month old baby rousing from his snooze, settled comfily in his car-seat, having lulled into a sleep before the car had made it on the lengthy and tedious motorway outside London. The car coming to a halt beside an empty parking space, in the driveway built to the side of the house, as Harry pulled the keys from the ignition. “Alfie’s awake, mummy.”

“Oh, is he? I think someone might be a bit hungry, then. He didn’t eat a lot when we stopped,” you hummed, unclipping the seatbelt from around your front, carefully guiding it back into place, before pushing the side door open. Swinging your legs out and setting your feet upon the gravel, crunching stones under your weight, immediately being engulfed into a tight hug from your mother-in-law. Squeezing you to her front and swaying the both of you softly. “Hey, hi. God, I’ve missed you.”

“I wish the four of you would pop up a bit more. I miss being a mother to my sweet boy,” Anne laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling away from you, adjusting the dressing gown around her before tightening the belt around the middle. Watching over your shoulder as Harry climbed out of the drivers side of the car, giving the door a bump with his hip and releasing a pent-up breath from the cold air that stuck his exposed arms. Pulling the passenger door open so he could tend to the baby, gurgling and kicking his legs out against the back of the seat, tucked up beneath his thick blankets. “Just say the words or give me a ring or even send me a text, and I’ll be on a train down to see you all, no matter what the time is.”

She wrapped her hand around the handle to Persephone’s door, helping the bubbly little girl open it, before she was jumping up and down on her feet, bouncing and rocking on her heels before wrapping her arms around her grandmother’s waist. Hugging her tightly and pushing her face into Anne’s soft dressing gown-clad tummy.

“Hi, sweet girl. Nana’s missed you. You’ve grown up so much, haven’t you, huh? Want you to slow down, I do,” Anne hummed softly, running her fingers through Persephone’s hair, “are you going to help me with the cookies and the dinner for tomorrow, yeah? Gon’a need all the help I can get.”

“Daddy said I can help him with the cranberry sauce, too. And, you said I could help with making the cookies,” Persephone reminded her, a gap between her teeth, right at the front, a tiny white tooth peeking from her gum as her adult tooth began to push through her inflamed gum, “daddy let me bring my smarties to put in them but he said that you could ‘cide on that.”

“I think we could do a mixture of smarties and chocolate chips. Think everyone would love that.”

Her tiny fingers slotted through Anne’s slender ones, holding tightly onto her hand, as she closed the door with force behind the motion, siding away from the black car as Harry closed the passenger door on the opposite side. Locking the car before disappearing, bending over, for a brief second to wrap his hand around the handle of Alfie’s car-seat, lifting his son from the floor, the baby-bag set upon his shoulder, as he scuffed around the hood with a smile.

“Lets get you all inside and in the warm. The weather’s not so nice for the little bub, is it? Ella and Gemma have been doing some research and they’ve spent all morning making a few pitchers of pink grapefruit margaritas. Non-alcoholic so everyone, including the kids, can have some, so there are some glasses waiting for you on the kitchen counter,” Anne smiled, slippers kicking up small pebbled stones as she and Persephone lead the way towards the open front door. “Everyone’s a bit excited to see your gorgeous little man, as well. Your aunt, in particular. She can’t quite believe how grown up you’ve become, Harry.”

“She said the exact same thing when Seff was born. Couldn’t quite believe how old I was and that” Harry chuckled, following you into the porch-way and letting you close the front door behind him. Clicking at the doorframe and barricading the air, present with a Jack Frost chill, from swirling into the warmth of the house. Hit directly, smack bang in the face, with the heat that came from both the fire crackling in the living room and from the heating turned up, full blast. “It’s so good to be home.”

It wasn’t long before everyone had separated into their own ways.

Everyone had moved from the hallway and situated themselves around the lower level of the house. Persephone taking up the tiny space in the middle of the sofa, cosying up between Ben and his wife, giving their cheeks kisses and letting Ben slip off her loafers to set them by the coffee table with his suede boots, whilst Matty and his wife watched from the sidelines, waiting for their time to have a snuggle with the little girl. Chatting to her about how school was going, gasping when she told them a story that had shocked her tiny mind, letting her count from one to twenty and asking her all about how she found being a big-sister, cooing when she told them stories about how she’d helped her daddy change him one night and how she shares baths with him and how she fed him the day before. Anne having gone back to busying herself in the kitchen as she worked on getting two cottage pies completed and ready for oven for dinner that evening, instructing Robin to get more firewood from the garden and to find the most expensive bottles of wine from the wine cellar to make a change from the sweet that came from the grapefruit. Rummaging through the cupboards for matching place-mats and coasters and the wine glasses kept for the best occasions. Alfie, content in being passed from Gemma and Michal, sat at the dining table, to Ella and Dee, who were stood in the kitchen, before ending up in Mike’s arms, who was leaning against the counter and waiting for the kettle to brew to make tea and coffee for those who’d accepted his offer. The four-month old smiling brightly up at his great-uncle and finding amusement in Mike’s finger coming into contact with his little nose.

“He’s just a precious little bub, isn’t he? He’s absolutely gorgeous. Congratulations,” Dee cooed, her arm holding you tight to her side as the both of you nursed glasses of the vibrant red sparkler that lingered on the lips and tasted absolutely beautiful. Sitting on your tastebuds and making you crave a follow-up glass. You hummed a gentle thank-you in appreciation, followed by a sheepish smile, before she continued. “You’ve got two adorable children, sweetheart. It’s good to see him so happy. He’s always loved kids. Me and Anne, we’ve always discussed the topic of Harry and Gem having their own kids. Knowing that Gem and Michal are on the verge of maybe trying for a baby, and getting snuggles with your little sweeties, it’s so lovely. It’s been a while since we’ve had babies in the family.”

Your eyes lingered on your husband as he stood to the side with his uncle, chatting idly about the snuffling but giggling baby each time he felt a touch to the tip of his nose, a smile bright on your lips.

“He’s been amazing, you know? When Persephone was born, we were nervous wrecks. Neither of us knew what we were getting ourselves into. We didn’t know what to do when she cried or when she was sick but he was so great with her. There are times when I just can’t believe we made them” you said softly, chest aching as you watched Harry reach for the baby, cradling him to his chest with Alfie’s head pushed into the hollow of his neck, “he’s like a professional dad. It’s unreal. Whenever I see him, I just fall more in love with him and I never thought it was possible.”

“You know he loves you a whole lot as well, right? I’m telling you, my boyfriend has never looked at me in the way that Harry looks at you. He has a twinkle in his eye and he’s never looked so happy before. Not even when he used to be up on stage and performing in front of thousands, every single night,” Ella gave your shoulder a rub before dropping his lips to your cheek, “and that’s all on you.”

CHRISTMAS EVE, 8PM.

“Do you think we brought enough food for your mum? I feel like we should have gotten those vegetarian burgers or those vegetable samosas from the curry counter. Not saying that everyone is going to be absolute carnivores and devour the meat but, what if your cousins have gone vegan or something? We don’t see or talk to them a lot, Harry.” You looked over your shoulder, twisting your body in the front passenger seat, and huffed out a heavy breath, blowing your fringe up and from in front of your face. The backseats of Harry’s car being stocked up, and packed as well as he could pack it, with party food and snacks to feast upon throughout the evening of the Christmas day. The main course already having been prepared and the adults already given their strict tasks on what they were on duty for looking after. “Your mum gave us this task to do properly, Harry. Don’t want to muck this up.”

“I think we’ve just brought the whole of Waitrose back home with us, love. There is nothing that we don’t have. Brought two of everything from the bloody freezer aisles and I’m pretty sure I pulled my groin running back to get that cheese,” he teased softly, pulling the car-keys from the ignition of the engine and hooking the key-ring around his index finger, the keys jingling whilst the metal clinked with the metallic Gucci bands around his fingers. Her head turned towards him. “And don’t you dare say we forgot the bloody vegetarian burgers. For Christ sake, just don’t say it.”

“But, Harry-”

“No,” he pushed his forefinger to your lips. Your mouth smushed against his digit as he gave you an amused smile. “If anyone was a vegetarian, mum would be making a whole different meal for them tomorrow, yeah? The only one, not eating a Christmas turkey dinner tomorrow, is our little man. He’s having a pureed Christmas dinner made up of potatoes and some chicken.”

“Harry, this isn’t funny.”

“Hey, no, no, I’m not laughing at you, Gorgeous. I’m not laughing at you. I promise,” he unclipped his seatbelt and let it swing behind him, coiling back into place at the side of his seat, before he settled himself to face you. A leg bent up, the toes of his boots nudged into the gear-stick, whilst the other stayed flat in the footwell beneath the wheel. “I think it’s great that your mother slash party host instincts are kicking in, but, we’re just the guests tonight. You’re worrying over absolutely nothing, you silly goose. Mum would have said to get anything vegan if we did have someone, in the family, who didn’t eat meat. But, she hasn’t said anything. And last time I saw Matt and Ben, they were devouring a turkey sandwich, with their wives, by a hotel pool, just a few years ago,” he reached across the console and reached for your hand, tugging it back to rest upon his thigh, “stop worrying over this. If we’ve forgotten anything, I’ll just have to pop out later tonight and hunt down a 24-hour garage or something.”

“But-”

“Please,” he huffed, squeezing your fingers with his, “stop worrying. I don’t like it when you worry over the tiniest of things. Makes me worry and, we both know how I get when we both worry. You don’t like kissing lips that have been bitten or have evidence of blood,” he snickered, taking a glance in the direction of the porch. The driveway light, having switched on upon the car’s arrival, having now turned itself off, with there being no detection of movement. The porch light being enough to get them safely up the stoney pavement, with their arms full of Waitrose bags. “I reckon we’ve got about 10 minutes before someone comes out to see what we’re doing. Or to offer their help. But I don’t think it’ll be the latter. Scotch on over here and gi’me a coupl’a kisses. I feel like I haven’t snogged you enough today.”

You snorted and rolled your head back against the headrest of your seat, nose scrunched up as you reached down to the side of your thigh and unclipped the seatbelt that kept you securely fastened to the front seat. A click being heard as you let it slide over your front and swing back into place.

“How old are you? Seventeen, got your first car, and want to shag your girl in drivers seat, huh?” You teased playfully, feeling his hand tug upon yours as you sat upright, helping you swing your leg over the console and grabbing your hips to hold you tightly, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he situated himself, a little cosier, to give you more room to straddle his lap. Forearms resting upon his shoulders, fingers delicately, curled around his ears, as the curves of your shoes fit perfectly against the curve of the cushioned seat beside his jean-clad thighs. “I’m getting flashbacks.”

Sitting in the same position, in the same parking space, in front of the same house, of the same month, but no longer just boyfriend and girlfriend, 3-years into a relationship. Squeezing in some alone-time before you were torn apart to be squeezed and hugged by all members of his family who Anne had invited; his grandfather, having always been particularly excited to see you when he heard the news of you coming up North, being the main culprit to why Harry wouldn't have you by his side through the night, but who was he to complain?

“Pretty sure I was close to bustin’ a nut in that old car. Held a lot’a memories that old thing did, didn’t it? Seff absolutely loved that car, she did. We’re proper parents now, aren't we, huh? Gon’a have a minivan soon,” he chuckled, his warm breath, minted and smelling vaguely of the coffee that he'd brought from the supermarket café upon arrival, fanning over your face from the millimetre gap between your heads. The fronts of his lips curved up, slightly pouted, as his nose wiggled from the tip. Hands cupping your bum as you sat comfortably upon his legs. “I can see you driving a mini-van, actually. Lookin’ like such a mum. With cheerios all over the floor from the school run, smears on the windows because the kids love to draw faces on the foggy glass, odd shoes and socks left behind because they’d kick off their trainers in the sleep. And you’ve got all your old CDs in the front and the kids absolutely hate your taste in music. Just like their dad does.”

“Hey, we have the same music taste. All those CDs will be yours, anyway. Just stolen from your collection,” you grinned, pressing a set of rhythmic kisses to his lips, one after the other after the other, as your thumbs rubbed over the shells of his ears, “would’ve never given The Rolling Stones or Savage Garden a listen if it wasn’t for you. Throw in some Shania Twain, too.”

He scoffed heavily and dropped his forehead forward, his hair tickling your nose as he shook his head, “absolutely nothin’ could beat a bit of Shania Twain. What did you listen to before you met me? Sounds like utter rubbish.”

“You see, I was in with the kids. Listening to the charts and what Grimmy would play on the radio in the mornings and I’d buy the number ones from iTunes. I wasn’t living in the 80s,” you smirked, his head lifting back up. Eyebrows furrowed to show a look of offence but his lips quirked into a lopsided smile, “I mean, when I met you, you looked like you were in with the trends. Converse boots were in fashion then, weren’t they? Remember your bedroom was full of those white tattered shoes that I hate knowing that you still own.”

“Gon’a give ‘em to Seff, if her feet ever grow as big as mine,” he chuckled, “one of our kids has to end up with the good ole’ Styles feet, right? Size ten by the time they’re eighteen.”

“I hope not. Your feet get cold easily. I don’t need an alarm clock in the mornings. You nudging me with your toes is enough to startle me awake. Like they’ve been stuck in a freezer all night and you just slot them back on before I wake up,” his lips split into a cheek-aching grin, his head falling to your shoulder as your fingers raked through the hairs at the back of his neck, “I like dainty. I miss having little new baby feet in the house, you know?” You hummed in delight as he puffed out a breath from between his teeth and began peppering kisses to your neck. The collar of your striped jumper, stretched overtime from being overused and worn more than you could count throughout the winter months, having fallen to expose your collarbone. “Doesn’t mean I want to make babies now, mister. We’ve got a baby in the house already.”

“Just want to have a make-out with my missus. S’that so wrong, huh?”

You shook your head and tilted your head to the side, cheek coming flush against his hairline as his journey of kisses, sponged softly and nudged into the crooks of your collarbone and hollows of neck, began to travel up towards your jawline. Delicately pressed to your skin, tasting hints of your perfume that clung to the tiny wrinkles formed upon your neck, because, if he went any harder or introduced his teeth, you’d shatter beneath him, like fine china hitting a tiled floor, without a chance to piece you back together. His nose peeking over your soft chin, pressing a kiss to the apple curve below your bottom lip before pressing a final peck to your lipstick-stained lips. A kiss that started as a few pecks, similarly to your display of affection beforehand, and soon turned into something that had you, cautiously, pressed against the steering wheel with an elbow that was dangerously close to  the horn. A kiss that took the both of you into another world, homing tongues and teeth.

But a knock, heavy and thudding against the window, is what tore you away from each other. Eyes fluttering open as you found his green eyes and he found yours, before turning your attention to the woman standing on the other side of the door; Gemma. A tea-towel draped over her shoulder, hands disappearing under the sleeves of her thick jumper, as she shifted upon her slippered feet to keep her blood from freezing up in her veins. Her breath fogging up the window of the car.

“Alfie’s been sick all down Ella’s back after she fed him and he’s pooed his nappy and it’s gone all over his baby grow and Percy’s not liking the smell of the house because of it and mum’s fretting over your son all whilst you’re out here and snogging faces like a couple of horny teenagers. Sure you’d have slipped in a quickie, if I didn’t appear,” she scolded, her voice muffled by the glass, tapping her finger to the window, again, with a deep frown on her face. Harry’s finger pushing upon a button that made the window slide down with a creak. “Mum wants the food to put in the freezer. Sure you can stop sucking faces for an hour and help. Plenty of time to do be making more babies when there isn’t a house full of people in front of you.”

“Just fancied a smooch,” Harry retorted, pulling the button to make the window slide back up, “be in in a second.”

His sister stomped her foot and rolled her eyes, pulling the chequered tea-towel from her shoulder, and balling it up in her.

“Harry!”

CHRISTMAS EVE, 9:30PM.

The small blow-up bed, that his cousins had helped blow up over the course of the evening, fitting for one tiny person to lay upon, sat much lower than the queen-sized bed that accommodated his aching back, pushed against the bedroom wall. That sat at a reasonable height for him to perch upon without having to strain any muscles to get down and back up again. His knees pulled to his chest as he sat on the edge, his body causing a dent beneath him, Persephone’s body curled up underneath the duvet, as he made sure to sit with her until she dozed off. Chatting sleepily to him, slurring her words and interrupting herself with yawns, as hummed back in response, ears still perked to attend to any cries that may erupt from his son, fast asleep in the travel cot. Arms stretched by his head, legs covered with his blue knitted blanket, with his lips parted.

“Daddy, how does Santa know where me and Alfie are so that he can drop off our presents? What if he takes them to our house in ‘ampstead and forgets to bring them here for us to open in the morning?” his five-year old questioned, her eyelids heavy as she fought the urge to close them. Her fingers, holding onto one of his large palms, twisting his wedding back around his finger. “Daddy, what if we don’t have our presents?”

“Well, that won’t happen, little love,” he swivelled around, as best as he could, to face her, looking down at her as she cosied up to the teddy-bear she’d brought along with her, “mummy and daddy had a little chat with Santa Claus and we gave him nana’s address so that he can slide down her chimney tonight, when we’re all fast asleep, to drop all of our presents off. Told him we have a really good girl who’s waiting for her Christmas presents and he promised us that he’d deliver them to her,” Harry grinned, cupping the back of her head with his free hand and pushing back the strands that sprung free from the blue band keeping her hair in a ponytail, “pinky promised me, he did. And we both know what that means.”

“Means he can’t break it, daddy!”

“That’s right,” he nodded, his head swinging around to the bathroom door that creaked open. The flick of the light switch echoing around the en-suite as you turned off the light and pulled the door closed. Wiping your wet hands on your pyjama trousers before settling upon the bed, taking off your rings and sliding off an extra blue band to tie your own hair back. “You’re fightin’ sleep, you are, little missus. Got’a be asleep for Santa to come in the morning, haven’t we, hm?”

Persephone nodded, bringing her hands to rub at her aching eyes. His body hunching over to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Love you, daddy,” she whispered, a yawn soon following in suit, “see you in the mornin’.”

CHRISTMAS DAY, 7AM.

The atmosphere was cold as Harry took gentle steps down towards the lower level of the house, dodging the creaking stairs on the stairway and humming to keep his son entertained and away from the thought of craving attention from somebody. The skin of his legs covered in goosebumps as his bare feet pressed against the carpeted floor of the hallway, his mind focused on shuffling around anything in his path that would make a noise and wake someone up in the house, respecting that he wasn’t in his own home anymore. Upstairs, guesting a number of people who wouldn’t be all-too pleased about being rudely woken up so early on Christmas Day morning; hangovers reeling over them. 

Upon entering the living room, to pass through to the kitchen to warm up a bottle of milk, he could hear the soft, and barely audible, thrum of Frank Sinatra playing from an old record, and he expected to see his older sister nursing a mug of coffee and watching re-runs of old Christmas music videos or his aunt taking the job of getting presents sorted into piles around the living room, dressed in a dressing gown with slippers on her feet, and glasses upon her nose and she read tag after tag. But, instead, he was greeted by the gentle and calming face of his mother, squeezed into the corner of the sofa, presents piled around her on the floor and towering high, skimming through an old photo album, with worn out pages, filled with old film photographs of his childhood.

“What are you doing awake?” Harry murmured, a yawn following his words as he kept a slightly disgruntled Alfie content in the crook of his arm. Patting his bum softly as his feet took towards the sofa, perching down beside his mother and tucking Alfie’s feet beneath his arm. “Wasn’t expecting you to be up so early. Thought you’d be wanting a lie-in before breakfast. You slept okay, yeah?”

“Of course, yeah. I slept fine. I just, I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep so I thought I’d come down here and get an early start on the dinner. I’ve got some bacon and sausages warming in the oven, if you’re hungry,” Anne smiled, reaching a hand over as Alfie took hold of her finger, “what are you doing awake, though? Heard you and the missus late last night.”

She looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, his cheeks flushing a bright pink, head ducking down to look at his son.

“Wasn’t anything like that, mum. Just chatting and doing some reminiscing about Persephone’s first Christmas and all that. Late night pillow talk, you know?” Harry grinned. Tired, lopsided and a little lax with his muscles. “Alfie was a bit fussy this morning and I wanted to keep my ladies asleep, for as long as possible, before everyone woke up for today. Thought I’d come down, catch up on some telly, and then help you with breakfast,” his eyes fell to her lap where a thick and overflowing leather-bound book sat upon her knees. A cup of tea, steaming on the coffee table, sitting untouched, with a couple of mince pies sat on the coaster beside it. “What one are you looking at there?”

“Just the old baby photos of you and Gemma from your first Christmas day. Yesterday gave me some time to really see the both of you as the individual adults that you both became,” she gave Alfie a large grin as he wrapped his lips around the tip of her finger, suckling on her the tip and wiping his tongue across the skin below her nail. Her eyes scouring over her grandson, soft and with a lot of love lighting up her orbs. “It made me feel a little overwhelmed, you know? You were this small once, sweet boy, and it just seems like yesterday that I was bringing you home from the hospital. Now you’ve got your own baby boy, celebrating his first Christmas, and a gorgeous little girl upstairs, who’s becoming more herself every single day, and you’re no longer my baby. No longer needing me to help you.”

“Mum,” he cooed softly, shuffling closer to her and reaching for her free hand, “m’still that little boy you loved to watch grow up. Got my own little boy to enjoy watching and you’ve got a grandson to watch grow up, yeah? He loves you already.”

“Thank you for coming to spend Christmas here this year. Especially Alfie’s first. I know you may have wanted to spend it at home, like you did with Percy’s first Christmas, and” she smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I know you like spending time with your own little family but it’s always lovely to have you back under my roof. I don’t have to miss you so much when we part ways because I know you’re only in the room next door.”

“You know I love coming back. ‘specially when v’got my own family with me, who are always just as excited to be back here as I am,” he grinned, giving her hand a squeeze before he held Alfie in her direction, “give ‘im a cuddle. You’ll be doin’ me a huge favour. Think he’d like a Christmas morning snuggle whilst I go for a wee and wake my girls up. Do you need me to go and wake Gem up or-”

“I wouldn’t. I think they’re awake but you know how your sister gets when they interrupted in the mornings,” Anne reached for the baby and cradled him to her chest, craning her neck down to press a kiss to his baby shampoo-scented, blonde hair. “Go have a lie-in yourself. I’ve got him,” she looked down at Alfie as Harry stood to his feet, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, “nana’s got you, hasn’t she, hm? Nana’s always got you, sweet boy.”

[joeys-piano]

Writing Tag Meme

i was tagged by my peep, @n3rdlif343va ~! If you ever want to flesh out an idea, n3rd is a great person to bounce the thoughts with. Amiable, kind, energetic, and a sweetie-pie are some the adjectives I would describe them as, and n3rd is a cool person to chill with

Alright onto this thing…

1) How many works in progress to do you currently have in progress? Just one right now. Another one is in its outlining-stage so it might count??? I’m one of those people that can’t juggle more than one project at once. If I’m going to work on something, I have to commit to it to the very end.

2) Do you/would you write fan fiction?

79 fanfics on AO3 and about 12 more on ff.net. I don’t regret joining the fanfic-world because I’ve met so many people to talk to, hangout with, bounce ideas with, and to just chill. I don’t gift a lot of works, but I think it’s cool that peeps gift each other fics and just enjoy each other’s company.

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?

Paper book is easier for me to read because it doesn’t hurt my eyes, and I can draw my pencil under the sentences so I can keep track of where I am. It’s so hard for me to read fanfic because I have to use my finger so it smudges my one, the mouse cursor doesn’t move fast enough, and the brightness hurts my eyes.

4) When did you start writing?

Around 7th grade...so, I was 12 or 13 when I started. I told stories orally when I was younger and that was my foundation before I transitioned to the keyboard. I’ve thought about pursuing writing as a career, but I feel safer having it as a hobby. This is how I de-stress.

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?

@fandomgirl394

is my AU buddy! I bounce ideas off of her every time we see each other, and she’s my best friend when it comes to figuring a story out and developing characters within an AU-scenario~<3

@n3rdlif343va is an amazing person, supporter, and writer. They’ve helped me a lot while outlining and world-building, and their enthusiasm keeps me going when I have to tackle long projects~!

@thewonderfulkatsukinikifrovs and I are goofy peeps who like to squeal when something cool happens in the fandom, and we often reply to each other’s posts to build ideas or HCs and that’s always fun~!

@stormstruck-angel , though we don’t talk about writing a lot, talking to storm has helped me develop a writing-voice for a Victorian-era parody that I’m currently doing~

6) Where is your favourite place to write?

Behind my laptop on a squishy couch with a fluffy blanket so I can snuggle against it. If I have to, I’ll “write” on my phone. I don’t carry around journals where I jot down ideas or leave sticky notes to myself. I tried the sticky note-thing once and my laptop screen was filled with all sorts of notes for myself and it got too cluttered! Just, if I have an idea for something, I open up the preexisting word document on Google Doc, break into a new page, and jot little bullet points of what I want to do

7) Favourite childhood book?

The Harry Potter series was what motivated me to read and create my own stories so~

8) Writing for fun or writing for publication?

Writing for fun. I used to dream about being published one day, but it would stress me out too much. haha

9) Pen and paper or computer?

Computer. And if I’m on my phone, Google Docs saves me a lot. I used to jot down with pen and paper, but I would write so much that it cramped my hands. Technology is easier for me.

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?

Other than the standard English classes, I took a full-year Creative Writing course last year and wrote fanfic. That’s where the majority of my YoI fanfics came from. I just wrote them for class because I had the time. And I would write fanfic after I finished my programs for Computer Science, but that’s a different story.

11) What inspires you to write?

For laughter, to feel a certain way, to offer a different viewpoint to a topic, for hugs and good feelings when I don’t feel good inside, to vent whatever frustration I’ve been holding, to reconcile an issue between me and someone else, and I hope that my writing has made someone smile. Even if it’s just a little, and it feels great to make someone laugh.

I’m tagging: @vityanikiforova , @d2diamond , @agape-rose , @miraculous-katsukii , @silencedfalcon , @thewonderfulkatsukinikifrovs , @teekettle

[templarhalo]

Endryd Haar:The Riven Hound Chapter 3

“So how long do I have?” Danek asked.

“Six Terran months.”  Apothecary-Captain Asclepias  Phoebus Reticulus said.

“You really need to work on your bedside manner Custodes.” Danek said with a laugh.

“You are an Astartes, not a mortal, and not a Ligo aetos going through accelerated aging and enhancement. “ Asclepias said dryly.

Asclepias’ was quite different from Danek.  He was pale and blond with sea-green eyes. He was quite handsome.

Danek knew Asclepias’ dry  tone was his way of coming to terms with the fact that his closest friend was going to be dead in less than a year.

He grunted in pain as Asclepias  injected  him with another shot.   Everytime he visited Asclepias, he needed more shots.   Fresh Larraman’s cells, antibiotics, stimulants and more.

He grunted again as he fel t soft but calloused hands gently remove the covering of the  bionics that made up half of his chest .

“At least the bionics are holding up.” Asclepias said.

 “That’s not the only thing holding up.”  Danek said with a smile.

Danek’s bionic eye had been modified to assess medical data, It reported that Asclepias’ heart rate had increased.

“ I should get you fitted for that augmetic leg first.” The Custodes replied.

“And how long will that take?”

“Not long.  And Aella won’t back for an hour.” Asclepias said.

 Danek smiled.

The Petitioner’s City was huge .

Vesta felt like she could spend days here and only scratch the surface of the city.  The architecture was so diverse, the people were so varied.  Different skin tones, different clothing.  It was like nothing she had seen, not even on Byzas Longa,a world that had been on the crossroads between Segmentum Obscurus and Segmentum Solar.  

She saw vendors peddling their wares.  Stands selling food, spices, clothing, books.

A man shoved a tray of chocolates in her face .   Another held up a piece of green  silk so sheer she could make out the man’s acne from behind it.

She saw an ogryn hammering at a piece of Adamantium.   She saw a team of Caucasian broadbacks hawling stone.

In the distance she could see the Himalazia mountains.  

“It’s good to be home.” Boian  said.

“You’re from Terra?” Vesta asked.

“Aye, Haar, Danek  and I were part of the first recruits for the Twelfth. Before we were World Eaters, before we were the War Hounds, were the just the Twelfth.  Haar,Danek  and I are the last of the Old Grey Legions.  I was from Slavia. Haar was from Europa and I have no idea where Danek was from.” Boian said.

The crowds were thick.  Lucifer Blacks, Administratum scribes, tech priests.  Haar even saw a pair of Imperial Fists on patrol.

The stands and tightly packed streets soon  gave way to the residential area.  Two story houses and small stores dominated the area.  

Boian paused near one of them.  Vesta smelled grilling meat and freshly baked bread.

Boian returned with a paper wrapped fresh off the grill steak in one hand and a jar of black olives in another. Vesta saw six more crammed in his ammo pouches.

“Kal Jakar may be armored physically and spiritually  against corruption,but he loves olives. “ Boian said.

He took a bite of steak. Meat juice dribbled onto his gorget.  Vesta saw Haar conversing with  a man  in ragged clothing.  He handed him a red coin with the lightening and Eagle symbol of Unity.

“What’s that coin for?’ Vesta asked.

“Identification, the Administratum can’t identify every citizen on Terra, let alone alone the refugees that have been pouring in.  That coin will get him to the Tyrannis without any Bureaucratic delay.” Boian said.  The Blackshield finished his steak and chucked the paper wrapper in an already overflowing waste receptacle.  He opened a jar of olives and popped a few in his mouth.

Vesta held out her hand, and Boian dropped a handful into her awaiting palm.

They continued to walk for a block and that entered a two story store.

Its sign read:

Alessander Graves: Rogue Trader  and collector.

Haar opened the door. A bell chimed.  

The store was rather small, with a counter of  dark wood and

“ Endryd! It’s been too long my friend! How can I be of service?”   

Haar actually smiled.  

“Any Astartes wargear you’ve managed to scavenge. And anything else that might catch our eyes.”

Alessander Graves was an older man  with slicked back silver hair and wild blue eyes. He wore a red and gold longcoat over a plain white dress shirt and blue pants with ornate silver shinguards. A Charnabal saber was sheathed at his hip and a plasma pistol in  his shoulder holster.

“And you brought a young lady this time! I would have preferred Lady Philone, but I love meeting new people!” Graves said with a hearty laugh.

“My name is Vesta Augustus.”  she said.

Graves  bowed.

“Alessander Graves, Rogue Trader and scoundrel of Segmentum Obscurus at your service.”

He shook Vesta’s hand.

“You have a firm handshake my dear.” Graves said.

“Thank you sir.” Vesta said.

Graves laughed like a melodic horse. She found his laugh annoying,but she liked him much better than many of the Rogue Traders who had come into her father’s court.

“In terms of Astartes wargear I don’t have much.  I recovered some suits of MKIII power armor from one of the Corpse Grinders Destroyers.    A few Bolters and Chainswords, some autocannons, and a couple of Plasma guns.”

“What kind of condition are they in?”

“It varies.  Some are just worth their weight in scrap, others look fresh from Mars.”

 “Mind if I take a look?” Boian asked.

“It’s your coin old friend.” Alessander said.

Boian nodded and strode to a room in the back of a store.

Alessander stared at Vesta.

“Oh! Before I forget.“  He led Vesta to a stasis field.

Inside was a  suit of Power Armor.  The chest and shoulders  was clearly from a suit of  MK1 Thunder Power Armor that were adapted for a regular sized human.  The legs pieces were Carapace armor.  The gauntlets were smooth grey Ceramite, untouched by war. A purple cloak woven th gold with threads of gold was draped over the armor shoulders.

 It was the most beautiful thing Vesta had ever seen.

Haar felt his breath hitch,

“Is that-”

“A voidsheen cloak, aye.”

Alessander looked at Vesta.

“Well put it on  lass! You’re gonna be wearing it! For throne’s sake you’re running around with a Blackshield! You’re going to  need more protection than that pretty sword of yours.”

Before Vesta moved to deactivate the stasis field, she had to  ask one question.

“Do you sell black  paint?”

Refugee Camp  TK57-1128-117-2224-A was just one of many refugee camps that had sprung up on Terra when the galaxy caught fire.  The Emperor in his infinite wisdom had guided Kal Jakar here.

 Laden with Rucksacks full of food that wasn’t nutrient paste and liquid electrolyte packets, toys and clothing, Kal Jakar strode into  the camp.  

Many of the refugees wore tattered clothing and had thin faces.

Kar Jakar wordlessly  began distributing the supplies.  

There was fear on some of the faces.  An Astartes, one in blackened armor was handing out food and supplies.   In what universe did that happen?  Astartes were gene-forged killers, murderers conquers.  They burned worlds with a smile beneath the helms.  

When did Astartes show such  compassion?

When did an Astartes act Human?

Once the supplies was distributed he walked among the camp, blessing the refugees.  He taught children how to read.  He helped clean the camp to  prevent disease spreading.

As he was leading a small group of refugees in prayer, Kal heard the clanking of Ceramite on  rough dirt.

It was an Imperial Fist. The heraldic cross on his right shoulder pad identified him as a veteran.  He bore the insignia of a breacher legionnaire, as if the boarding shield and modified Tigrus pattern bolter didn’t distinguish it.  A Two handed Power Sword with a silver cross hilt rested in a scabbard of black Inwit leather.  Judging by his unit markings and laurel insignia the legionnaire was  the sergeant  of the 5th Breacher Siege Squad of the 30th company, 7th Battalion of the Second Shield Corp of the First Sphere.  

The Legionnaire removed his Mark III helm ,revealing a scarred face with  close cropped  black hair and eyes the color of Terra’s drained oceans.  

He reached into  a bolt pistol magazine and removed  a tattered Lectio Divinitatus chapbook.

 “My Wall Brother believed  in this faith.  He prayed to the Emperor as he dyed to  the poisoned blade of an Alpha Legionnaire. “

The Legionnaire’s face curled.

“I wish to  know more,  I need guidance.  Horus draws closer to  Terra.  I need to know Chaplain. Does He protect.  Does the Emperor Protect?!”

Tears streaked down his face and great sobs racked the Space Marine’s body.  A little girl no more than eight Terran years put a hand on his shoulder pad.  She had the same blue eyes as him and long messy blond hair.  She wore a blue dress and had a blue bow in her hair.

The Imperial Fist looked at the child, than at Kal Jakar.

“He does protect.  In ways you cannot possibly imagine.  Tell me brother, what is your name?’

“It is Emetris, I am stationed at Daylight Wall.”

“Will you pray with us Emetris?” Kal Jakar asked.

Emetris looked around at the refugees, than at Kal Jakar.

 “ I will Chaplain.”

Danek felt something burrowing under the sheets.  His eyes snapped open.  

Asclepius was snuggled next to him .  His breathing was steady.

Danek felt a cough in his throat and forced it down.  He reached for the glass of water and the pills on a small bronze tray.

After he got the water and pills down his burned throat he looked at the sheets and then held a hand under his nose.  No blood on the clean white sheets or the furs.  That was some improvement.      

He turned and his diminishing eyesight picked out little Aella laying next to Asclepius.

“How’d you get in here little one?” Danek asked

“Picked the lock. I learned to do that yesterday.”

“And how was today?” he layed back down.  Aella snuggled next to him and engulfed herself in the pile of furs and cotton sheets.

“Paperwork, classes, The Emperor set his hair on fire again. Valdor and Lady Arlette were bickering again, Amon gave us some cake from the palace kitchens, We got to practice with our Guardian Spears again, but it wasn’t as fun because we weren’t shooting at Tribune Ra. ”

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll shoot at  Prefect Diocletian.” Danek rasped.  He’d have to get his augmetics checked tomorrow.

“ Maybe.” She said with a yawn.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

Danek felt warmth blossom in what was left of his chest.

“I am now.”

[templarhalo]

Endryd Haar: The Riven Hound Chapter 3

This is chapter 3 unbolded and with some minor editing here and there Chapter 4 is coming soon.

“So how long do I have?” Danek asked.

“Six Terran months.”  Apothecary-Captain Asclepias  Phoebus Reticulus said.

“You really need to work on your bedside manner Custodes.” Danek said with a laugh.

“You are an Astartes, not a mortal, and not a Ligo aetos going through accelerated aging and enhancement. “ Asclepias said dryly.

Asclepias’ was quite different from Danek.  He was pale and blond with sea-green eyes. He was quite handsome.

Danek knew Asclepias’ dry  tone was his way of coming to terms with the fact that his closest friend was going to be dead in less than a year.

He grunted in pain as Asclepias  injected  him with another shot.   Everytime he visited Asclepias,he needed more shots.   Fresh Larraman’s cells, antibiotics, stimulants and more.

He grunted again as he felt soft but calloused hands gently remove the covering of the  bionics that made up half of his chest .

“At least the bionics are holding up.” Asclepias said.

“That’s not the only thing holding up.”  Danek said with a smile.

Danek’s bionic eye had been modified to assess medical data,and Asclepias’ heart rate had increased.

“ I should get you fitted for that augmetic leg first.” The Custodes replied.

“And how long will that take?”

“Not long.  And Aella won't back for an hour.” Asclepias said.

Danek smiled.

The Petitioner’s City was huge .

Vesta felt like she could spend days here and only scratch the surface of the city.  The architecture was so diverse, the people were so varied.  Different skin tones, different clothing.  It was like nothing she had seen, not even on Byzas Longa,a world that had been on the crossroads between Segmentum Obscurus and Segmentum Solar.  

She saw vendors peddling their wares.  Stands selling food, spices, clothing, books.

A man shoved a tray of chocolates in her face .   Another held up a piece of green  silk so sheer she could make out the man's acne from behind it.

She saw an ogryn hammering at a piece of Adamantium.   She saw a team of Caucasian broadbacks hawling stone.

In the distance she could see the Himalazia mountains.  

“It’s good to be home.” Boian  said.

“You’re from Terra?” Vesta asked.

“Aye, Haar, Danek  and I were part of the first recruits for the Twelfth. Before we were World Eaters, before we were the War Hounds, were the just the Twelfth.  Haar,Danek  and I are the last of the Old Grey Legions.  I was from Slavia. Haar was from Europa and I have no idea where Danek was from.” Boian said.

The crowds were thick.  Lucifer Blacks, Administratum scribes, tech priests.  Haar even saw a pair of Imperial Fists on patrol.

The stands and tightly packed streets soon  gave way to the residential area.  Two story houses and small stores dominated the area.  

Boian paused near one of them.  Vesta smelled grilling meat and freshly baked bread.

Boian returned with a paper wrapped fresh off the grill steak in one hand and a jar of black olives in another. Vesta saw six more crammed in his ammo pouches.

“Kal Jakar may be armored physically and spiritually  against corruption,but he loves olives. “ Boian said.

He took a bite of steak. Meat juice dribbled onto his gorget.  Vesta saw Haar conversing with  a man  in ragged clothing.  He handed him a red coin with the lightening and Eagle symbol of Unity.

“What’s that coin for?’ Vesta asked.

“Identification, the Administratum can’t identify every citizen on Terra, let alone alone the refugees that have been pouring in.  That coin will get him to the Tyrannis without any Bureaucratic delay.” Boian said.  The Blackshield finished his steak and chucked the paper wrapper in an already overflowing waste receptacle.  He opened a jar of olives and popped a few in his mouth.

Vesta held out her hand, and Boian dropped a handful into her awaiting palm.

They continued to walk for a block and that entered a two story store.

Its sign read

Alessander Graves: Rogue Trader  and collector.

Haar opened the door. A bell chimed.  

The store was rather small, with a counter of  dark wood and

“ Endryd! It's been too long my friend! How can I be of service?”   

Haar actually smiled.  

“Any Astartes wargear you've managed to scavenge. And anything else that might catch our eyes.”

Alessander Graves was an older man  with slicked back silver hair and wild blue eyes. He wore a red and gold longcoat over a plain white dress shirt and blue pants with ornate silver shinguards. A Charnabal saber was sheathed at his hip and a plasma pistol in  his shoulder holster.

“And you brought a young lady this time! I would have preferred Lady Philone, but I love meeting new people!” Graves said with a hearty laugh.

“My name is Vesta Augustus.”  she said.

Graves  bowed.

“Alessander Graves, Rogue Trader and scounderal of Segmentum Obscurus at your service.”

He shook Vesta’s hand.

“You have a firm handshake my dear.” Graves said.

“Thank you sir.” Vesta said.

Graves laughed like a melodic horse. She found his laugh annoying,but she liked him much better than many of the Rogue Traders who had come into her father's court.

“In terms of Astartes wargear I don’t have much.  I recovered some suits of MKIII power armor from one of the Corpse Grinders Destroyers.    A few Bolters and Chainswords, some autocannons, and a couple of Plasma guns.”

“What kind of condition are they in?”

“It varies.  Some are just worth their weight in scrap, others look fresh from Mars.”

“Mind if I take a look?” Boian asked.

“It’s your coin old friend.” Alessander said.

Boian nodded and strode to a room in the back of a store.

Alessander stared at Vesta.

“Oh! Before I forget, “ He led Vesta to a stasis field.

Inside was a  suit of Power Armor.  The chest and shoulders  was clearly from a suit  MK1  Thunder power that were adapted for a regular sized human.  The legs pieces were Carapace armor.  The gauntlets were smooth grey Ceramite, untouched by war. A purple cloak woven th gold with threads of gold was draped over the armor shoulders.

It was the most beautiful thing Vesta had ever seen.

Haar felt his breath hitch,

“Is that-”

“A voidsheen cloak, aye.”

Alessander looked at Vesta.

“Well put it on  lass! You're gonna be wearing it! For throne's sake you're running around with a Blackshield! You're going to  need more protection than that pretty sword of yours.”

Before Vesta moved to deactivate the stasis field, she had to  ask one question.

“Do you sell black  paint?”

Refugee Camp  TK57-1128-117-2224-A was just one of many refugee camps that had sprung up on Terra when the galaxy caught fire.  The Emperor in his infinite wisdom had guided Kal Jakar here.

Laden with Rucksacks full of food that wasn't nutrient paste and liquid electrolyte packets, toys and clothing, Kal Jakar strode into  the camp.  

Many of the refugees wore tattered clothing and had thin faces.

Kar Jakar wordlessly  began distributing the supplies.  

There was fear on some of the faces.  An Astartes, one in blackened armor distributing supplies ? In what universe did that happen?  Astartes were gene-forged killers, murderers conquers.  They burned worlds with a smile beneath the helms.  

When did Astartes show such  compassion?

When did an Astartes act Human?

Once the supplies was distributed he walked among the camp, blessing the refugees.  He taught children how to read.  He helped clean the camp to  prevent disease spreading.

As he was leading a small group of refugees in prayer, Kal heard the clanking of Ceramite on  rough dirt.

It was an Imperial Fist.  A veteran judging by the heraldic cross on his right shoulder pad.  He bore the insignia of a breacher legionnaire, as if the boarding shield and modified Tigrus pattern bolter didn’t distinguish it.  A Two handed Power Sword with a silver cross hilt rested in a scabbard of black Inwit leather  Judging by his unit markings and laurel insignia the legionnaire was  the sergeant  of the 5th Breacher Siege Squad of the 30th company, 7th Battalion of the Second Shield Corp of the First Sphere.  

The Legionnaire removed his Mark III helm ,revealing a scarred face with  close cropped  black hair and eyes the color of Terra’s drained oceans.  

He reached into  a bolt pistol magazine and removed  a tattered Lectio Divinitatus chapbook.

“My Wall Brother believed  in this faith.  He prayed to the Emperor as he dyed to the poisoned blade of an Alpha Legionnaire. “

The Legionnaire's face curled.

“I wish to  know more,  I need guidance.  Horus draws closer to Terra.  I need to know Chaplain. Does He protect?  Does the Emperor Protect?!”

Tears streaked down his face and great sobs racked the Space Marine’s body.  A little girl no more than eight Terran years put a hand on his shoulder pad.  She had the same blue eyes as him and long messy blond hair.  She wore a blue dress and had a blue bow in her hair.

The Imperial Fist looked at the child than at Kal Jakar.

“He does protect.  In ways you cannot possibly imagine.  Tell me brother, what is your name?’

“It is Emetris, I am stationed at Daylight Wall.”

“Will you pray with us Emetris?” Kal Jakar asked.

Emetris looked around at the refugees, than at Kal Jakar.

“ I will Chaplain.”

Danek felt something burrowing under the sheets.  His eyes snapped open.  

Asclepius was snuggled next to him .  His breathing was steady.

Danek felt a cough in his throat and forced it down.  He reached for the glass of water and the pills on  a small bronze tray.

After, he got the water and pills down his  burned throat he looked at the sheets and then held a hand under his nose.  No blood on the clean white sheets or the furs.  That was some improvement.      

He turned and his diminishing eyesight picked out little Aella laying next to Asclepius.

“How’d you get in here little one?” Danek asked

“Picked the lock. I learned to do that yesterday.”

“And how was today?” he layed back down.  Aella snuggled next to him and engulfed herself in the pile of furs and cotton sheets.

“Paperwork, classes, The Emperor set his hair on fire again. Valdor and Lady Arlette were bickering again, Amon gave us some cake from the palace kitchens, We got to practice with our Guardian Spears again, but it wasn’t as fun because we weren’t shooting at Tribune Ra. ”

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll shoot at  Prefect Diocletian.” Danek rasped.  He’d half to  get his augmetics checked tomorrow.

“ Maybe.” She said with a yawn.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

Danek felt warmth blossom in what was left of his chest.

“I am now.”