#plot point: a marauder in the night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stellarbit · 4 months ago

Text

Shifting Loyalties NSFW

Word Count: 7.7k Pairings: The Bad Batch x fem!reader, Tech girlies you get an extra treat. Warnings: I'm not gonna lie y'all, this is smut with almost no plot. I can't list it all. I have no excuses, it's all the batch at once so that should give you an idea of what you're walking into. But no clonecest here. Barely proofread. Summary: The Bad Batch and you are supporting the 501st on a mission, where you are reunited with your old squad. The Batch get a bit jealous and Jesse fans the flame. NSFW

Fives is alive for this because, who doesn’t need more Fives and who doesn’t want to scream at canon sometimes.

“It’s obnoxious is what it is.” Crosshair spat, biting down hard enough on his toothpick to snap it in two.

The source of his irritation was the scene unfolding amongst the men of the 501st. During another last-minute mission as General Skywalker's backup, you and Echo had settled in with your former squad before it was time to turn in for the night. Gathered in a loose circle were Echo, Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, and you, catching up while the Batch observed from a distance.

Perched on a crate, with Fives at your side leaning on an elbow and talking your ear off, you crossed your ankles and swayed your feet lightly, clearly enjoying the conversation. When Fives' hand casually landed on your thigh, emphasizing his point, Wrecker couldn't suppress a low groan.

"What's so special about those guys, anyway?" Wrecker grumbled, tossing a hand in your direction as a loud laugh escaped you. "I bet it's not even that funny!"

Paying as little attention to the situation as possible, Tech interjected, "There's nothing 'special' about them. It’s simply a shared history." He glanced up to see Fives stand a bit taller, gesturing animatedly as he dominated the conversation. Fives leaned closer to you, his hands gripping your knees for balance.

Logically, there was nothing wrong with their behavior. As Tech understood it, such comradery was not uncommon amongst the regs. Yet seeing you at the center of it set his teeth on edge.

Kix and Jesse had picked up on the Batch’s attitude the moment you stepped off the Marauder. Rex warmed up to the 99’s but the rest of the 501st maintained their distance. That distance solidified into distaste when you left the 501st to join the Batch.

As Rex and Echo broke away on their own, Jesse sidled up to your side, opposite of Fives, with Kix at his side. While Fives pulled every laugh out of you he could, Kix noticed the scowl Tech was leveling him and subtly nudged Jesse.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience.” Kix muttered.

Jesse glanced briefly towards the four Batch members who were watching intently. "Oh, really?" Jesse scoffed, his gaze sweeping over the group before returning to you with a renewed, cocky smile. “Well, then let’s give them something to look at.”

Hopping up next to you, Jesse leaned into your space to position behind your back and hovering over your waist. “Say, Shorty?” He finally interrupted Fives’ ramblings, getting the ARC trooper to push off of you.

“Oh!” You laughed. “Back to ‘Shorty’ are we?”

Fives crossed his arms and grinned, “Well, seeing as how you are shorter than us - you’ll always be a shorty to us.” He nodded towards his brothers at your side. You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at you betrayed your enjoyment

Catching this, Jesse and Fives shared a knowing look, Fives briefly glancing at Jesse's hand still poised near your side. Fives then uncrossed his arms and nodded subtly.

“As I was saying…” Jesse continued, his tone teasing. “You ever get over that little twitch of yours?”

A confused look passed over you. With a small shake of your head you asked, “What ‘twitch?’”

Without warning, Jesse’s hand snapped to your side, his fingers wiggling into your ribs, eliciting a yelp as you jumped into him. In a desperate attempt to escape his tickling, you shimmied forward, laughing through the discomfort. The sudden movement toppled you off the crate, straight into Fives’ waiting arms. Without missing a beat, he caught you with one arm cradling your ass and the other holding you by your waist.

Jesse and Kix chuckled as you shoved against Fives, your feigned anger fooling no one. Kix leaned over to Jesse, musing, "Oh, they didn't like that one bit."

“Looks like someone should go lend them some comfort.” Jesse said sarcastically, sauntering off towards the four troopers.

From their side, the Batch watched on in disgust as you sat in Fives’ arms losing yourself in laughter. He hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a couple of times for show, before setting you back on your feet.

"Show off," Hunter muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned from the spectacle. He gestured to his brothers with a brisk nod. "C'mon lads, let’s head inside." Despite the order, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair remained firmly in place as Jesse approached, his presence igniting further irritation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Crosshair as Jesse closed in, his tone playful yet provocative. "You're not heading out so soon, are you, fellas?" He jerked a thumb back in your direction, his grin sharp. "You’re missing all the fun over here."

“Oh goody.” Crosshair angled a mean smile at him, placing a toothpick between his lips. “Tell me, are all regs as dull as you?”

Maintaining his composure, Jesse leaned in slightly, his confidence unshaken. “With her smiling like that, I can’t say I’m too worried about being dull. We always kept her smiling. In fact, most nights with us ended with her being happy.” He casually rested a hand on his hip, his smirk widening. “Guess you fellas are only good with clankers.”

Tech, standing next to Crosshair, frowned deeply, his eyes flicking between the men of the 501st and you. His voice was sharp, clinical. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Before Jesse could reply, Wrecker pushed forward, his massive frame towering as he stepped between his brothers. His voice was deep and menacing, each word dripping with threat., “Yeah, what are you in-sin-ua-ting?”

Jesse stepped closer, meeting the challenge and smirking up at the large clone. “I’m saying, we must’ve been doing something you aren't.” His gaze briefly flickering over to where you were mingling with others, finally realizing where Jesse had strayed off to. While he could, Jesse snuck in one more jab. “Guess Echo didn’t tell you everything. We were more than a squad to her.”

The implication ripped a growl from Crosshair, but before he could escalate the situation, your warm voice broke the tension. “You wouldn’t be causing trouble now, would you, Jesse?”

Jesse turned toward you with a feigned innocence, his chuckle light. “Of course not,” he replied smoothly. “Just catching them up on the old days.” As he clapped a hand on your shoulder and gave it a playful shake, he threw in, “Speaking of which, why don’t you bunk with us tonight, Shorty? It’ll be just like old times.”

His use of your nickname in front of your squad heated your face. From the noise Crosshair made, you were going to have trouble living that down.

With a laugh, you rolled his hand off your shoulder, your tone light but firm. “Oh, I don’t think so. I actually need to get some sleep.” You poked a finger into Jesse’s chest plate playfully yet pointedly. “Which I’m sure wouldn’t happen with your lot around.”

Wrecker's eyebrows flew up as he shot a look at Hunter, who wore a similarly stunned expression. They were just beginning to catch glimpses of your unfiltered self, and while they had suspected the men of the 501st were trying to rile them up, they never dreamt of the level of intimacy you just admitted to.

Seeing you banter so comfortably with the regs, with laughter and playful jabs, left the Batch glowering. For the first time in their lives, they were truly jealous of these regs. They were getting used to being the closest to you, the ones you leaned on during missions, and this unexpected side of you—closer with regs than them—struck a chord.

“Let’s go, lads.” Hunter ordered with a firmness that turned your head. You knew your squad was on edge with the regs, but Hunter sounded almost angry. He left without another word and his brothers trailed behind shortly after. Crosshair was the last to leave, flicking his toothpick past Jesse, barely missing his face.

Watching them retreat to the makeshift barracks adjacent to the 501st’s, you turned to Jesse, your expression one of exasperation. "What did you do?" you demanded.

Jesse put his hands up innocently, saying, “Not my fault your squad doesn’t like to share.”

Share? Weighing the worth of further questioning him against checking in with the Batch, you grumbled in frustration and pointed a warning finger at your former squadmate, “You’re just as bad.” Not allowing him to get under your skin as well you made for your barracks.

You walked in on the Batch quietly conversing, standing around Wrecker as he sat on a bottom bunk. Out of the lot, Tech and Wrecker turned slightly to see you walking in their direction. You gave a little wave as you neared. The conversation fell silent the nearer you got, widening your nervous smile. They are not happy, you inwardly groaned

Attempting to break the tension you said in a light tone, “Can’t believe we’re actually sleeping in the barracks.” Pulling up to the corner of Wrecker’s bunk, you leaned against the post, arms crossed. “Echo will be pleasantly surprised.”

Crosshair snorted, “It fits. He’s full of surprises.” His odd response, again, pinched your brows.

Widening your eyes and raising your brows in the awkward moment, you flared your fingers out around your arms. “Well, I’ll just pick a bunk.”

You pushed off the bunk only for Wrecker to catch you by the elbow and tug you into his lap, teetering on his thigh, with a hand at the small of your back.

You twisted in your spot to smile at Wrecker, who was looking unexpectedly bashful. “What’s all this?” They boys had only recently started toeing past physical boundaries, this was a bit of a jump for them. Further trying to dissipate the tension, you rocked into Wrecker with your hip. “Scared of sleeping alone suddenly?”

Wrecker swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly to his brothers as if seeking support or reassurance.

Maintaining a polite, albeit confused, smile you followed his line of sight.. While Tech kept his nose in his datapad, Crosshair stepped up next to Hunter, prompting the Sergeant to step forward and take a knee in front of you.

Hunter's gaze was heavy as he took a deep breath, then slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours. The intensity there caused you to catch and hold your breath, something going taut between you.

"We've been thinking," Hunter began, his voice cautious, as if testing the waters. His hand gently came to rest over your knee, his touch causing you to straighten instinctively, pressing you further into Wrecker’s lap. Until then, you had almost forgotten your position with Wrecker, but his large hand then settled more firmly around your waist.

The dual sensation of their touches sent a shiver through you, a subtle tremble that Wrecker evidently felt too, eliciting a soft, strained noise from him.

“There’s something we’d like to do for you.” Hunter smiled, his hand sliding north of your knee.

You went stock still, eyes blown wide as Hunter leaned in. You shot a look at Crosshair to find him twirling a toothpick between his fingers with a satisfied smile. Next to him, Tech caught your eyes. Where Hunter’s eyes had stilled you, Tech’s thrilled you. You were happy to be seated with Wrecker, because having Tech’s full attention made you feel weak.

“What’s that?” You asked, voice just above a whisper, as you broke away from Tech to find Hunter still watching you. You heart jumped into your throat when Hunter’s thumb smoothed over your inner thigh.

“Have you ever thought about-” Hunter paused, clearing his throat to cover up his hesitation. Slowly and calmly he started again, “Have you ever thought about spending the night with us?”

“I already-”

“Think a little harder.” Crosshair cut you off with an amused tune. Your eyes snapped to Crosshair and, somehow, the arrogance in his stance filled you in on Hunter’s meaning. Heat flared through you, flushing your face so quickly you knew even your ears were red.

On more than one occasion you’d found release lost in the fantasy of being the center of their attention. Every time you witnessed them sans armor you had to manually breathe through professionalism.

Again you looked to Hunter, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a slow nod. Hunter dipped his head, hiding the way his smile widened. Barely lifting his head, he chuffed and followed up with, “Would you like to spend tonight with us?”

You were able to swallow the whine in your throat enough to nod another affirmative. Hunter opened his mouth but was interrupted by Tech.

“That will not suffice.” Both you and Hunter looked to Tech for clarification. Tech adjusted his goggles but shook his head. “If this is something you want, you will need to agree to what we are asking verbally.” Your legs squeezed together at Tech’s stern tone.

You felt Hunter’s gaze shift back to you, but you eyes were trained on Tech. A smile, wobbly and excited, fluttered over your lips. “Yes,” Heat pooled between your legs, you squirmed in Wrecker’s lap, and you said. “I want to spend the night the night with you guys.”

Wrecker’s other hand found your side, firming his grip to hold you in place. He laughed through his nerves, “Watch it with that.”

Suddenly, you became very aware of where you were seated in his lap. Pushed back over his knee, just an inch or so from his crotch. If you twisted even the slightest you’d pressed him. With intent, you carefully turned into him to offer a smile. As Wrecker groaned against the pressure of your leg you offered a half-assed apology.

Wrecker took one look at you and crashed his lips into yours. A moment of shock hit you before your started moving against him, melting into the feel of his tongue against yours. When Wrecker leaned you back and deepened the kiss, a little needy noise escaped you

It was enough for Crosshair to kick Wrecker’s foot. “Ease up.” Crosshair. Wrecker did indeed ease up, breaking the kiss and leaving you dazed and panting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe your lips dry. “Got a lil excited there.”

All you could manage was a hum as he righted you in his lap. Hunter tilted his head back, his smile turning into a challe, “You sure wanna do this?”

You answered by sliding from Wrecker’s knee onto his, slipping your arms around his neck, and stopping just as your lips hovered over his. Lightly squeezing his thigh between yours, you said on a breath. “I’ll only say it once more. I want this.” Grinding onto him, you added. “Badly.”

Catching his lips in a slow kiss, you moved with his hands as they found your hips and pressed you harder onto his knee. With every brush of your clit against him, an ache, hot and desperate, grew in your core. The sound of shuffling armor only reached you as Hunter tapped your thigh, easing you back into reality. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

Eager to continue as quickly as possible, you bounced off of Hunter’s knee to make quick work of your attire. By the time you were down to your underthings they were all down to their blacks in some way. Tech’s was still zipped up, Crosshair and Hunter had theirs stripped to the waist, and Wrecker was stepping out of his.

Just the sight of them fully dressed was enough to fluster you, finally seeing them bare made you feel downright feral.

Wrecker stepped over to you, his already erect cock swaying with him. Your mouth went dry at his size, though it was fitting for a man of his stature. He tilted his head with a grin and gestured for the bunk behind you.

As you sat, you came face to face with his massive member before he dropped to a knee. The idea of taking him first, after not having anyone for a long time, thrilled you as much as it intimidated you. A warm body pressed against your back as a pair of long legs, still dressed in black, appeared on either side of you.

Wrecker hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them off as Tech, in a low tone, said into your ear, “He’s going to warm you up.”

The chill his voice sent through you hit at the same time Wrecker’s tongue slid over you. Arching into Tech, you whined as Wrecker picked up a steady pace of long flat licks that ended with covering your clit with his mouth.

Tech wormed a hand between your bodies to discard your bra and give him access to your chest. Gloved hands cupped around your breasts, gently tracing the shape of them before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your entire body tensed as Tech played with your nipples. From between your legs, Wrecker chuckled as he slid his middle finger into you, “Oh, she likes that.” The ache Hunter had ignited grew as Wrecker kissed and sucked on your clit while working his finger into you.

“Is it true that you enjoy this?” Tech asked, applying more pressure as you writhed against him.

“Yes,” You barely managed to pant as you quickly reached your peak. “I do, I do, I-”

As you tightened around Wrecker’s finger, he suddenly broke away from you, leaving you empty and at the painful edge of release. “Not yet.” Wrecker left a kiss on your inner thigh as you grabbed to pull him back, only stopped by Tech holding you against him.

“Not yet.” Tech repeated sternly, again stilling you with his voice in your ear.

Wrecker stood as Tech slid out from behind you. Wrecker took his place, positioning you on top of his lap to spread your knees with his. Taking his finger, still wet with you, he traced your slit all the way to your ass. You were starting to tense at the sensation when Wrecker cooed as he slid his finger into you. “Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Spread wide as Wrecker fingered you, Hunter could see how badly you ached to be filled. With each stroke of Wrecker’s finger, you visibly clenched. Hunter finally released the length of him when you pressed a hand over your mouth to restrain a moan.

Crosshair stepped in to pull your hand away, letting the tail end of your noises loose. “They could hear.” You whined louder than you wanted.

Crosshair held your face in his hand, angling you to face him. With a hand braced on the top bunk, Crosshair leaned down to your eye level. Sucking on a tooth, he smirked as his eyes roamed your writhing form. Meeting your gaze again he gave you a gentle shake as he practically purred, “Then let’s give them something to listen to.”

He’d distracted you enough that Hunter’s sliding into between your legs startled you. Crosshair released your face when Hunter’s cock made contact with you. You leaned forward for a glimpse of him. His swollen head slid over you until he brushed up passed your clit. Precum leaked from him and slid down to mix with your own wetness. Hunter traced you a few times before he tipped your chin up.

Lined up with you, Hunter asked, “Ready?” Wrecker buried his finger in you as they both waited for your answer.

“Hunter, please.” You quickly whined, bracing your hand on his shoulders, truly desperate to be filled with him.

Hunter leaned in and rolled his hips into you, slowly breaching you until he was completely inside. “You feel,” Huntered groaned, “So good.” As he started pulling out, Wrecker timed his fingers with him.

Standing within reach of you, Crosshair pulled himself free of his blacks as he watched on. Your attention only pulled away from where you and Hunter were joined when you caught sight of Crosshair stroking himself.

Your noises grew in volume as the Hunter and Wrecker filled you over and over. Only a few strokes in and your toes were already curlling. Feeling your sudden grip, Hunter fully sheathed himself in you as Wrecker left you empty.

“You good?” Hunter asked in a strained voice as he throbbed within you.

You nodded, a blissful smile flashing over you. “Really good.”

Beneath you, Wrecker squirmed to reposition himself, even raising you out of his way as he did. You heard Wrecker spit but couldn’t tell what on. Hunter pulled you against him for support as Wrecker pressed up against your ass and slid over its entrance. You tried to whip around but Hunter held you firm.

Pressing a kiss into your neck, Hunter mumbled, “Tell us to stop and we will.”

While Wrecker waited, throbbing against you, Hunter lightly rocked his hips, moving just enough to rub into your cervix. You watched Crosshair’s head angle to get a view of your ass, then your heaving chest, before settling back on your eyes. He continued stroking himself, smirk growing as a needy expression flooded you.

You swallowed hard when precum spilled out of Crosshair’s cock. “Keep going.” You moaned, granting Wrecker the permission to pull you down onto him. Your body went taught when the flare of his glans pushed past your threshold. Inhaling, you whined and waited for more of Wrecker.

You only waited a second longer before you were grinding yourself over him, not only taking more of Wrecker but grinding farther onto Hunter. “That’s a good girl.” Wrecker sighed happily as he leaned back on one hand and supported your ass as you moved over him.

The two of them had you completely filled, stretching you in a way that made you see stars. You knew you’d never be the same after feeling this. Hunter angled your hips enough that each thrust pushed into your G-spot. Each of their thrusts had you whimpering louder as you felt the ache in your core tighten.

Giving your ass cheek a firm grasp, Wrecker’s head fall back in ecstacy. It took everything in him to not move faster and push harder into you. He wanted to feel you make you come completely undone around him, break apart for him even, but he sat back and let you pleasure yourself on him.

Eyes still on Crosshair, you extended an open hand to him, urging him closer. The sniper snorted but obliged you, giving you full access to his body. Resting back on Wrecker, you let Hunter take over the rhythm as you pulled Crosshair closer.

Swiping a thumb over Crosshair’s slit, his precum spilled over you. Crosshair ran a hand over your hair and around to your jawline. “Of course that’s not enough for you,” Crosshair mused. His cock, thick in your hand, had a small patch of silver hair at its base you brushed as you pumped your hand over him.

Each deliberate move of your hand challenged Crosshair’s composure. He clenched his jaw to hide the pleasure he felt. His resolve cracked as his eyes fluttered and he leaned in to your grasp.

The rare sight of Crosshair’s softened features made you whimper and writhe in Hunter’s hold. Your tightening grip rushed Hunter to his limit. He rested his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Mesh’la, keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.”

Allowing himself a few shallow thrusts, Wrecker groaned, “I’m right there too.” He’d barely gotten the words out when Wrecker groaned loudly, pumping hard into you as he throbbed and lost control.

Hunter picked up his pace until he quickly pulled out and, a second later, coated you in cum. His hips kept rocking against you, rubbing over your clit and fueling the ache in your core. “Right there, right there.” You encouraged him as he kept moving over you until completely emptied himself.

With Wrecker still throbbing inside you, paired with the sudden pressure on your clit, your orgasm hit you hard. It wracked your body until your legs quivered. Fucked into an euphoric state, you leaned towards Crosshair, still aching for pleasure. You’d never dreamt this would be a reality and you were quickly becoming greedy.

“Easy now,” Wrecker murmured and, as gently as he could, eased out of you. Without him and Hunter, you felt emptier than ever before.

Hunter scooted back enough to sit back on his knees, panting and pushing his hair back out of his face. He watched as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your shoulder and helped you crawl over his legs to face Crosshair.

Prying your mouth open with a thumb, Crosshair hummed down to you, “If you want a taste, you better do it quickly.” A chill ran down your spine as Crosshair pulled you by your mouth, guiding you to the tip of his cock.

You stuck your tongue out to swirl around his head. He hissed as you eagerly took him into your mouth, bobbing over him and swiping your tongue side to side as you did. As promised, Crosshair only allowed you a small taste of him before pulling you off him.

He knelt to your eye level, crouching on the balls of his feet, to ask, “Do you want more?”

Your brows pulled together and a lazy smile lifted your lips. “I want you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair stilled for a moment, something striking a chord in him. His eyes quickly scanned yours before he caught your lips in a fast, hurried kiss. He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “On your knees.”

The sniper helped you to your feet and got you onto the neighboring bunk. He guided you onto your hands and knees, facing his brothers. There was no teasing nor dragging out the moment. No, Crosshair immediately lined himself up with you, leaned over to cage you in his arms, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

In one smooth thrust, Crosshair buried himself inside of you, immediately taking up a steady pace as he fucked you into the bunk. Crosshair draped himself over you, sneaking a hand around you and right to the apex of your thighs.

“Incoming.” Tech chimed from across the room.

Crosshair held you in place as the barracks door swooshed open and Echo walked in. A drop of panic hit your stomach when Echo’s sweeping look found you. Confused, horror overtook the cyborg and as he hurried over.

Nearly stumbling over Hunter, still regaining his composure on the floor, Echo ripped around to you. “Crosshair, what do you think you are doing?!”

Crosshair pushed off of you, straightening to posture over you and face Echo. Using your hips as leverage, Crosshair slowed his pace and confidently answered, “Whatever what she wants.”

Echo’s expression went stunned as he knelt in front of you. Slightly dazed, flushed, and cum covered, you tucked your face into the mattress in a rush of embarrassment. Still, you whined each time Crosshair’s hips hit yours.

Echo reached a concerned hand out, encouraging you to lift yourself again. His eyes searched yours, but you were too far gone to do anything but reach for the man in front of you. You ran your hand as far down Echo’s torso as you could and turned to press a kiss into his palm. “Echo.” His name came out on a moan that brought heat to his cheeks.

“Looks like there is something else she wants.” Crosshair chuckled behind you. He leaned back over you, bringing his mouth to your ear but holding Echo’s stare. “Why don’t you tell Echo what you want?”

You could barely think through Crosshair’s relentless thrusting and the rhythm of his fingers. “Echo.” His eyes slid to you to catch you kissing his hand again. “I want to taste you.” Licking the length of his hand, you wrapped your mouth around his forefinger.

Echo had been growing hard from the moment he saw your bare skin until the softness of your mouth got him instantly hard. Glancing between you, Echo kept an eye on the hand still reaching for him and slowly brought his hips to meet your touch.

As you pried off his codpiece with one hand, Echo assisted in pulling himself out of his underlayer.

You pulled Echo by his thigh so that he overshadowed your face. Starting at his base, where his balls met his shaft, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the length of him. Reaching his tip, you steadied him with your hand.

Echo mumbled under a grunt as you moved your mouth over him, “Oh, stars.”

The taste of Echo narrowed your focus on him, seeking to hear his pleasure. When Crosshair heard your own muffled moans, felt them with his chest against your back, he lifted off you. He traced a finger down your spine, feeling you arch into his touch as he went.

Echo was still adjusting to the reality he’d walked into when you started working your hand in tandom with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He couldn’t help himself as he kept his hand firm and met your rhythm with his own. You slackened into him as he pushed against the back of your throat.

The way you twitched around Crosshair, pulled a moan from him. Sensing your little struggle as you tried to take more of Echo, Crosshair again reached for your clit. “Relax.” He whispered as his hand made lazy circles around you.

Sliding off of Echo you swallowed and looked up to find him watching you with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. You didn’t look away as you opened wider and took him into your mouth. With a deep breath you relaxed as best you could and pushed him to the back of your throat. Moaning around him you pressed on until you felt him squeeze down your throat.

A moan, breathless and low, finally escaped Echo and he held you fast against him. The sounds you’d worked so hard for twisted that familiar ache in your core. Your eyes watered against the pressure as his cock twitched in your throat. You tasted him spilling inside you as he came undone.

Crosshair grunted, shuddering as you clenched down on him. Unwilling to finish before you did, Crosshair focused his touch on your clit into light, fast strokes.

You tapped Echo repeatedly until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Gasping for air your fell onto your elbows, head hanging over the side of the bunk. Face down, ass up you sounded on the verge of tears as you warbled, “Cross, I can’t. I’m gonna-”

His thrusts become long, slow, and angled right into the soft spot inside you. “Go on then.” Crosshair urged you on. “We all want to hear you.”

The low tone of his voice finished you. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out as you lost yourself in Crosshair’s hold. He continued pushing you through your release as long as he could until Crosshair had to pull out. Gripping your hips tight, he thrust one final time against you and sent ropes of his cum down your back. In the throws of his own pleasure, his groans matched yours in volume.

It took a few moments for your both to settle back into the present. Your legs were so weak that you were at Crosshair’s mercy to keep you upright. He felt you relax and sag into his him, prompting him to gently lay you to rest on your side. He brushed your hair out of your face, letting you look up at him without moving your head.

He watched you pant a second longer, swallowed and asked, “You okay?”

A little smile came to you. You coughed out an affirmative hum, and warmly croaked, “More than okay.”

Echo came around to your side, looking over you with concern. “What can we do?”

“Relax.” Hunter, already half dressed, came behind Echo and gestured casually towards another area. “Tech’s on it.” His gaze softened as he smiled down at you over Echo’s shoulder. “You really are something.”

His praise sent a wave of warmth through you, though you could only muster a pleasant hum in response, your energy still recovering.

“Tech’s gonna help you get cleaned up. That okay with you?” Hunter waved someone, presumably Tech, over.

Taking a deep breath, you raised onto your elbow. Tech was indeed inbound carrying some supplies and still full dressed. Suddenly you felt as bare as you were. You couldn’t look away, but gave Hunter the nod he and Crosshair needed to step away.

“C’mon boys, let’s give her some privacy.”

Echo looked you over once more, nodded and followed his brothers lead.

Soon it was just you and Tech in the quiet. For most of what happened, you’d lost track of Tech. Who had, by the looks of it, had steered completely clear of the scene.

Tech settled down next to you, placing a stack of necessities beside your head—clothes, towels, all topped with a bowl of water. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position with one hand, inspecting the items he had brought. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, the simple kindness in his preparation bringing some softness you very much needed.

“Sit up.” Tech instructed as he brought the water closer. You followed his order, positioning yourself with your back slightly turned. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Tech dip a small towl in the water before bringing it to your shoulder.

The towel was cool against your flushed skin. Jumping you said through a chill, “That’s cold, Tech.”

“You do not want warm water for this.” Tech said matter-of-factly. “Heat will denature the proteins in the se-”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” You said quickly, cutting him off while also doing terrible job at covering your embarassment.

Tech rotated between wiping your back and ringing out the towel. When silence again fell over you, Tech asked softly. “Are you in any pain?”

You thought for a moment, doing a mental sweep of your body, and replied, “No, I’m okay.” You squeezed your eyes shut hearing yourself stuttering your words.

Tech immediately questioned you again, “Are you having regrets?”

You flinched to turn around, but kept your back to him. “No.” You replied softly. It went quiet again as Tech did a final swipe of your back.

“Now turn around.” Tech swapped out the towel for a fresh one as you slowly turned to face him.

Again, Tech dampened the cloth and brought it to your skin, the cool touch hitching your breath. As his hands carefully wiped your skin, he observed your slow, controlled breathing. His eyes darted to yours.

“You are uncharacteristically silent.” Tech noted bluntly with no follow up theory as to why.

Shoving your nerves to a manageable level, you blurted out, “Why didn’t you join?”

Tech’s hand stilled, but he kept your gaze for a beat. Moving to dampen the towel, he followed it with his eyes. He shrugged, saying, “Not really my thing.”

Your stomach dropped at his simple dismissal. Under your breath you said, “Oh.”

You kept watching Tech as he brought the towel back to your chest. When it came time to wipe your breast, Tech found your gaze again. He flattened his hand under the cloth and ran his whole hand over your breast, his thumb catching on your nipple.

A brazen surg hit you and you pushed, “So, I’m not really your thing?”

Tech pulled back slightly with his hand wiping you. Raising a brow he asked cautiously, “My thing?”

Despite slightly regretting your line of questioning, your fingers fidgeted together as you clarified, “As in, you’re not interested in being with me.”

His wariness faded as he focused back on his work, again rinsing the towel. “That… is not entirely accurate.” He lowered the towel down between your breasts to your stomach. He wore a cocky smile as he said, “Besides, something such as after care requires a more delicate touch.”

You caught his hand before he made it to your navel. “Then what would be entirely accurate?”

Tech looked up through his goggles, his lip pulling to the side as he weighed what to say next. He wanted to make sure he was indeed being entirely accurate as he confessed, “I’m not interested in being with you in the company of others.”

His insinuation caught you off guard. Sitting a little more upright, your angled your head for a better view of those brown eyes. “So… you do want me?”

Tech’s head sagged slightly as he deadpanned. “Well, of course I do.” In your surprise, you released Tech’s hand and allowed him to finish wiping you down.

Steeling yourself against the warmth following his touch, you prodded further, “What if it was just you and I?”

Missing the subtlety behind you question, Tech simply replied, “That would be different for me.”

“It’s just you and I now, Tech,” You reminded him, voice barely above a whisper.

He was mid rinse when he heard you. The thought caused him to pause only for a moment before he wrung the towel out and turned back to you. Tech didn’t move to touch you. Instead, he muttered, “I did consider that, but I was not certain such an arrangment would interest you.”

Unable to let the chance pass, you grabbed Tech’s wrist again and flat out admitting, “It very much interests me.”

His attention fell to your hold on him for a moment. Gently he pulled out of your hand, moving the cool towel between your legs. Leaning closer as the fabric met your skin, Tech asked, “Does it interest you right now?”

“Well, of course it does.” You repeated his words in an impression of him. He hadn’t anticipated the sudden playfulness in your voice, but it brought a small smile to Tech.

Carefully, he wiped you clean, noting the movement in your face as he found every sensitive bit. When he was satisifed with his work, Tech set all the items he brought on the floor. He sat in front of you, one leg over the side of the bunk, and adjusted his goggles as he took in the full view of you. “You are beautiful," He marveled.

You got to your knees and scooted closer. With bated breath you asked what you've wanted to for weeks, “Can I kiss you?”

Tech blinked once, then twice before responding, “Given the circumstances, that wouldn’t be unwarranted.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that forced a smile from you.

Your reaction pulled a mirrored smile from Tech that had crawling into his lap. With no restraint, you moved in to kiss him. Pecking him with feverish kisses, Tech quickly relaxed into your rhythm to deepen the sensation. It seemed he'd been waiting just as long as you.

His hands slid around to your back and tugged you against him. You held Tech’s face in your hands and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. It took little coaxing for Tech to give you access to his mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his.

You sat intertwined, blissfully lost in the taste of each other and comfortable in each other’s hold. Tech hardened beneath you and the angle your were sat on Tech had your crotch directly against his. The realization hit you both at the same time as started moving against one another.

The friction of his blacks made the pressure between your legs that much more mind numbing. Moaning into your kiss, you retreated a fraction with Tech chasing your lips. “Get out of this.” You managed to say.

Tech straightened himself while keeping you in his lap and his mouth on yours. Without breaking away from you, he peeled out of his blacks. Only when he couldn’t budge them farther did Tech pull away. You both were desperate for air, but more desperate for each other.

Dodging Tech’s hands, you helped him the rest of the way out of the clothing and hurried back into his lap. Tech leaned back against the bed post when you were saddled on top of him. With Tech’s assistance you raised yourself over him. The natural curve of his cock allowed you to line up with him without your hands.

You tried to lower yourself, but Tech’s hand on your ass held you in place. “May I record this?”

Without question you nodded. After he tapped the side of his goggles, he returned your nod and released his hold on you.

As soon as he eased up you sunk onto him. The sudden fullness of him immediately brightening your smile. Tech firmed his grip on your back, pulling you and your clit against his abdomen. “I’d like you to start slow.”

You gave in to his request, supporting yourself on his shoulders as you patiently rolled your hips. He had you pressed against him in a way that constantly stimulated you, sending more warmth between your legs. When he felt what it did to you, heard his name on your tongue, he started moving beneath you, saying almost in warning, “I’m going to move faster.”

Tech was stronger than you'd imagined, effortlessly sliding you over him and thrusting into you from below. The pace at which you moved against each other, completely intertwined, quickly sent you into delirium. He pressed against you in every way, against the walls of your pussy and the ache in your clit. By the grip you had on Tech, there was no hiding your rising ecstasy.

“That-” Tech grunted out, leaning you further so you were completely against him. “Must feel good.” His tone was confident, arrogant even and it made you want to fuck him until he couldn’t speak.

Still, your new position gave Tech the leverage he needed to find your G-spot. As he grazed it, you cried out his name, encouraging him to maintain that specific angle. “Tech! Keep going right there, please.” Your encouragement ended in pleading.

Doing exactly as you asked, Tech held you in place and drilled into you. Keeping a careful, steady rhythm that in moments took you right to the edge of an orgasm and shoved you right over.

You couldn’t speak as you shook in Tech’s arms. Every inch of you quaked as a softer wave of heat spread through you. Lolling against Tech, he held you close and he rocked you both forward.

Still seated inside you, Tech rested you onto your back with your legs hooked behind him. Turning your cheek with a kiss, Tech exposed your neck. He pumped into you while he trailed kisses to your ear.

“This is the only way I’ll have you.” Tech purred into your ear. You locked your ankles and pulled Tech deeper inside you. Tech noticably throbbed and chuckled softly, “That is not going to help me last.”

You used your legs as leverage to move over him, humming, “Good, I don’t want you to.”

Tech pulled back to flash you smirk. “In that case…” He rested a elbow by your head, held you by your waist and pulled out to thrust back into you. “I’m already close. You need to tell me where you want me.”

Feeling him deep inside you made it an easy decision. You pressed him with another kiss as you said, “Inside.”

Tech rocked hard into you, thoroughly filling you as he came inside you. The two of you settled into each other, spent and panting through mutual trembling.

“Well,” Tech took a deep breath and pushed up over you. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After all the heat died down and you were all in fresh clothes, you laid out on your cot with an arm over your eyes. In their respective cots, Crosshair and Echo lounged on the edge of sleep while Wrecker and Hunter and Tech were quietly chatting.

Before the night ended you had one last relentless question.

Popping up on an elbow, you looked towars the still awake men. “Hunter?” You singled out the leader. Once you caught his eye you asked, “What caused all that?” The silence that fell pulled a suspicious smile from you.

With his back to you, Crosshair snorted, broadening your smile. You laughed and asked again, “What?”

Wrecker groaned, rolling his head back. “It was the regs.”

Echo immediately perked up, twisting to exchange a look with you. “What about them?” Echo asked warily.

Hunter sighed, “Jesse told us about how they used to…” He took a deep breath and rolled his hand as he continued, “Make you happy, let’s say.”

“And Echo knew.” Wrecker grumbled.

“Wait-” You and Echo tried interjecting, but Tech cut in.

“Not to mention you said how you wouldn’t get any sleep with them.”

When the dots connected for you, you covered your mouth, hung open, with a hand but couldn’t back the laugh that bubbled out of you.

From his cot, Echo covered his face with a groan, “Oh, no.”

Even Crosshair now sat up, exchanging confused looks with Tech, Wrecker, and Hunter.

Crosshair glanced at you and with an annoyed undertone he asked, “What?” He clearly did not like being on the outside of whatever you and Echo knew.

You shook your head and couldn’t fully answer through your laughter. “I never…”

Echo waved his prosthetic in the direction of the wall shared with the 501st. “We never did any of that. Jesse was just getting under your skin.” He groaned again, looking upwards and begging the Force for help. Gesturing in your direction he added, “And we wouldn’t get any sleep because they’d never stop yapping.”

You took deep breaths to settle down as Crosshair started chuckling.

“In retrospect, that is the more plausible option.” Tech said, shocked Jesse got the better of him.

Collapsing on your bunk, you called out warmly, “For the record, I am much happier as a part of this squad.”

Crosshair got the last word in, scoffing the last of his humor away, “Better be.”

taglist: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @psychrebel I hope specifically hope this makes you happy

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manageablemischiefs-blog · 9 months ago

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Let's Reflect On: Peter Pettigrew's erasure from The Marauders by a big portion of the Harry Potter fandom.

Peter Pettigrew was an 11-year-old boy who happened to be in the same compartment of the Hogwarts Express as James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. They all befriended each other through that interaction - through being sorted in the same house, being dormmates, having things in common, being comfortable around each other.

Peter Pettigrew was a twenty-something-year-old man who was threatened to sell his friends to Voldemort. He was a coward, not a follower.

Even Voldemort himself says it:

“[…] Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?" He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob. “You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don’t you?”“

Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire, Chapter 33: The Death Eaters

In the end, at the moment of his death, when ordered to strangle Harry he hesitated. Now, we have seen him murder without batting an eyelash, why would he not do the same with Harry?

Here's my take on it:

I believe Wormtail saw Harry as more than a chore, a body to dispose of. He saw him as James' son. His best friend whom he helped killing son. All the guilt and grief he had been trying to justify and push away since that fateful night dawned on him.

Peter had been there for his beginning; for James and Lily’s beginning. He was there at their wedding, at the baby shower (if there was one), for every Christmas since first year... He felt, not sure love, but definitely guilt. He looked at Harry and saw the face of James and the never-quivering eyes that once belonged to Lily. It was much easier living without carrying the responsibility of having cast the spell that ended their lives.

He hesitated, which caused the silver hand Voldemort had given to him to sense that as a sign of weakness and/or disloyalty, leading him to be strangled to death. With such a choice, he saves Harry’s life and, to me, finds redemption for his treason.

I’m not saying you should love Peter or that he was a wonderful human being who should now be showered with flowers and kisses by any means, but he has a story and he has a past. He has a built-up of growing insecurities until he betrays his friends. All of this is essential to understand that the twenty-something-year-old Peter Pettigrew is not the same as Hogwarts student Peter Pettigrew. There’s background and nuance to each character - If we ignore it and pretend he was an idiot through and through it just turns him into an empty character with no real importance in the plot, which is not the case. Don't reduce the complex relationship of the marauders to that.

To expand on the topic, the extraordinary @theprogressofspring has quite an extensive section on their blog labeled In Defense of Peter Pettigrew, with essays that go much more into detail and actually gave me the courage to post this entire thing. In addition, they also began a while ago writing The Life Cycle of the Common Rat; a story from Peter's point of view, tackling the first Wizarding War and refreshing characterizations of young adult marauders and Lily; it was a really tricky time, and sometimes the people we love are cunts and the people we hate are not pure evil.

#thank you if you've reached this far #seriously it means a lot #discussing peter pettigrew #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #james potter #the marauders #marauders era #marauders headcanon #anti marauders fandom #harry potter

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ms-snape · 1 month ago

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Hiiii I absolutely adore your blog and your fanfics, they’re always so amazing!!!Could I request a Remus Lupin x reader fic set in the Marauders era with the classic ‘fake dating’ trope? Maybe the reader and Remus agree to pretend to date to get their friends off their backs about dating other people. But as they spend more time together, things start to feel a little too real, and they both struggle with their growing feelings. Lots of awkward, adorable moments, mutual pining, and a fluffy confession at the end when they realize they’re no longer pretending. Thank you so much! 🥰

Title: Pretend

Warning: Fake dating

Word Count:2000+

Masterlist

---

The flickering candles of the library cast warm, golden shadows across the wooden tables, where ancient tomes and parchments were scattered about like fallen leaves in autumn. Y/n Y/l/n sat at one of the corner tables, her brow furrowed in concentration as she attempted to decipher the convoluted language of a particularly dry textbook on Charms. The faint rustle of pages turning and the soft sound of quills scratching against parchment enveloped her, a welcome respite from the ever-pressing noise of Hogwarts life.

It was a typical evening, but it felt different—heavier. Perhaps it was the weight of expectations that hung in the air, the same way the summer sun hung over the horizon, refusing to set. Her best friend, Lily Evans, had been relentless in her efforts to push Y/n into the dating world. With a roll of her eyes, Y/n remembered how Lily’s voice had taken on that eager, hopeful tone just the week before.

"You need to find someone, Y/n! All of the girls are dating; it’s not fair that you’re missing out. You and Remus both refuse to find yourselves someone!" Lily had exclaimed, and Y/n had felt her heart skip, but not for the reasons Lily might have hoped.

Remus Lupin was undoubtedly one of the most intriguing boys at Hogwarts. With his kind eyes and gentle demeanor, he had an aura of warmth that drew people to him. However, Y/n had never dared to consider him beyond friendship. They had shared countless moments of laughter, late-night study sessions, and quiet chats under the stars, but Y/n could hardly entertain the idea of complicating their bond with romance.

Across the library, Remus sat at a separate table, his own textbook open but his gaze wandering. The way he absentmindedly ran a hand through his tousled hair caused a flutter in Y/n’s stomach. Little did he know that every sigh and smile was being meticulously documented in her mind, like a cherished secret she kept locked away.

But tonight, they would find solace in each other’s company, perhaps even escape the relentless pressures from their friends. It was after another futile attempt to focus that Remus finally caught her gaze, his eyes lighting up as they met.

"Y/n, are you alright? You seem distracted," he said, leaning forward slightly, his brows knitting together with concern.

"Just tired of studying," she sighed, setting her quill down. "I feel like all Lily does is nag me about finding a boyfriend. Honestly, I think she’s forgotten about her studies altogether. She’s too busy plotting my love life."

A smile broke out on Remus's face, and Y/n felt warmth spread through her chest at the sight. "I know what you mean. The boys have been hounding me about finding a girlfriend, too. It’s unbearable at this point."

"Perhaps we could just… pretend?" Y/n suggested, her voice quiet, as if the mere thought of the idea was an outrageous whim. But as soon as she said it, a spark ignited in her mind, lighting up the darker corners of her imagination. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "We could fake date. Just to get them off our backs."

Remus’s expression shifted from curiosity to amusement, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "You think that will work? It might just make them worse. They’ll be even more eager to see us together if they think we’re dating!"

"I know," she replied, suppressing a giggle. "But it might just be mad enough to work. We can be so ridiculous that they’ll drop the subject."

His eyes glimmered with mischief as he contemplated her proposition. "Alright, then. Just between us, though. No one can know it’s fake."

And so, with the flick of a wand, they forged a pact that night, nestled among the whispers of the library’s ancient walls. They would pretend to date, and maybe, just maybe, they would emerge unscathed from their friends' relentless matchmaking.

The next few days unfolded like an unexpected dream, a whimsical farce that danced through the corridors of Hogwarts. Remus and Y/n played their roles beautifully, transforming their casual friendship into something that felt tangible. The Marauders, blissfully unaware of the charade, were absolutely delighted by the new development.

"You two are adorable together!" James exclaimed one evening in the Gryffindor common room. "I knew you’d eventually get together. It was only a matter of time!"

Y/n exchanged a glance with Remus, her heart racing at the thought. His warm smile made her feel giddy and safe at once, a contrast to the tightness in her chest that came from pretending. “Thanks, James,” she said, trying to keep her tone light and playful.

Sirius, leaning back against the couch, smirked and chimed in, "You should let him take you to Hogsmeade this weekend. I can totally see you two snogging under the trees!"

"Yeah, definitely!" Remus added, trying to keep the laughter from escaping his lips. “I mean, it would be a shame to waste such a great opportunity.”

“Right,” Y/n said, fighting the urge to laugh. “Snogging under the trees sounds… lovely.”

As the days passed, the lines between pretense and reality began to blur. Each shared glance, every fleeting touch—those little moments that had once felt innocent now carried a weight that made Y/n’s heart race. She watched Remus as he helped her study for Transfiguration, his brow furrowed in concentration as he explained the complexities of the subject.

“Just picture it like this,” he said, gesturing with his hands as if crafting an invisible object in the air. “It’s all about envisioning the final product. You need to see it clearly in your mind before you can transform it.”

She nodded, her attention captivated not just by his words but by the way he animatedly expressed himself. “You make it sound so easy,” she replied, her heart thumping in rhythm with the growing tension between them.

“Only because I’ve been at it longer than you,” he said, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “You’ll get there in no time.”

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Y/n found herself leaning closer to him, their shoulders brushing against one another. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, a magnetic pull that tugged at her heartstrings.

The following days brought more study sessions, each one layered with stolen glances and shared laughter. Their friends noticed the change in their dynamic, often teasingly nudging them closer together. It was during one of these moments that Y/n felt the air shift between them, a palpable tension hanging like a veil.

One evening, while they were studying in the library again, Remus accidentally knocked over a stack of books, sending them tumbling to the floor with a loud thud. They both bent down to pick them up at the same time, their heads colliding softly.

“Ouch!” they exclaimed simultaneously, pulling back and bursting into laughter.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern etching his features as he reached out to check on her. His fingers brushed against her hair, sending shivers down her spine.

“I’m fine! Just a little lightheaded, maybe,” Y/n said, her cheeks flushing as their eyes locked.

In that moment, the pretense melted away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotions bubbling to the surface. She realized she didn’t just like being around Remus; she was beginning to feel something much deeper.

As the weeks wore on, they found themselves navigating through the intricacies of their “relationship” with surprising ease. The Marauders often encouraged them, unaware of the truth behind the facade.

One evening, during a particularly lively game of Exploding Snap in the common room, Lily cornered Y/n. “So, what’s it like dating Remus? He’s such a sweetheart. You two are like the perfect couple!”

Y/n’s heart raced at the thought. “Yeah, he’s great,” she replied, her voice a bit higher than usual. “But it’s still new. We’re just figuring things out.”

Lily’s eyes sparkled with delight. “You know, I think he really likes you. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

A nervous laugh escaped Y/n’s lips, her stomach flipping. “Of course, he does! I mean, we’re… dating, right?”

But deep down, Y/n felt the growing pang of guilt gnawing at her. She was pretending to date Remus while simultaneously realizing she was falling for him, a truth that grew heavier with every moment they spent together.

One crisp autumn afternoon, as leaves danced in the wind, Remus and Y/n found themselves wandering the grounds of Hogwarts, their laughter echoing off the castle walls. They had just enjoyed a delightful lunch in the Great Hall, where Sirius had taken it upon himself to declare that their relationship was a “beautiful blossoming love story.”

“Thanks, Pads” Remus had mumbled, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement coloring his cheeks.

Now, strolling under the golden canopy of trees, Y/n stole glances at Remus as they walked side by side, their fingers almost brushing. She felt the world around them fade away, leaving just the two of them enveloped in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“You know,” Remus started, his voice soft as they paused by a gnarled oak tree, “this whole fake dating thing might actually have some benefits.”

“Oh? Like what?” Y/n asked, feigning innocence while her heart raced.

“For one, I get to spend more time with you, and you’ve managed to distract me from all the pressure my friends have been putting on me,” he said, his gaze steady as it met hers. “And, I must admit, you’re quite… captivating.”

Y/n felt her breath hitch, warmth flooding her cheeks. “I could say the same about you, Remus. You’re—”

Before she could finish her thought, a sudden rustle in the leaves caught their attention. Lily and the Marauders appeared, their laughter ringing out like chimes in the wind. Y/n and Remus quickly adopted their best couple smiles, aware that their friends would dissect every detail of their interaction.

“Hey, you two! What are you doing?” James called out, grinning widely. “Are you getting cozy under that tree? How sweet!”

“Just taking a break from studying,” Remus said, his voice light, though a hint of nervousness crept in.

“Liar,” Sirius teased, poking his friend’s side. “You were about to confess your undying love, weren’t you? Right, Y/n?”

Y/n felt her heart flutter at the mention of love, but she played along, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Of course! I can’t help but adore him.”

Remus’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and delight crossing his features. Y/n’s heart raced as she realized they had both said too much. But it felt… right.

As the group engaged in playful banter, Y/n caught Remus’s gaze again, and for a moment, the world around them faded once more. The warmth between them pulsed, thick with unspoken words. They were treading the fine line of friendship and something more, and neither of them seemed willing to back away.

That evening, as they returned to the Gryffindor common room, Remus pulled Y/n aside, a serious expression crossing his face. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Of course,” she replied, her heart pounding. They moved away from the chatter of their friends, settling into a cozy corner of the room, where the warmth of the fireplace flickered invitingly.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit she had come to adore. “About us.”

“Us?” she echoed, feeling the tension in the air thicken.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze steady but his voice wavering. “I know this started as a joke, but…”

“But?” Y/n pressed, her heart racing.

“But it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore,” he confessed, stepping closer. “I care about you, Y/n. Like really care. I didn’t expect this to happen, but I can’t pretend anymore. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

The confession hung in the air between them, a fragile thread connecting their hearts. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up as she processed his words, realizing they echoed her own feelings. “I feel the same way, Remus” she admitted softly. “I thought I was just pretending, but I’ve started to fall for you too.”

Relief flooded his features, and a soft smile broke out across his lips, lighting up his entire face. “Really?”

“Really,” she affirmed, a mixture of joy and anxiety coursing through her.

With a hesitant but hopeful look in his eyes, Remus took her hand gently, intertwining their fingers. “So, we’re not pretending anymore?”

“No, we’re not,” Y/n replied, feeling emboldened by their shared honesty. “We’re real.”

He leaned in, his breath brushing against her skin as he whispered, “So... Can I kiss you?”

Her heart soared at the question, and she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”

In that moment, everything else faded away as Remus leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a sweet promise of what was to come, a culmination of all the moments that had led them here. Y/n melted into the kiss, feeling the warmth of his lips against hers, a sensation that sent shivers down her spine.

As they pulled away, laughter echoed from the common room, but it felt distant now, like a world apart. Remus brushed his thumb across her cheek, his eyes shining with warmth. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n’s heart raced, her lips curling into a smile. “Me too.”

Their laughter mingled as they stood in the corner, their hands still clasped together. The pressures from their friends no longer mattered. In this moment, it was just Y/n and Remus, two hearts intertwined, ready to explore the uncharted territory of their newfound love.

As they rejoined the group, the Marauders and Lily exchanged knowing glances, clearly thrilled for the couple they believed to be dating. Unbeknownst to them, their fake romance had transformed into something genuine, and as Y/n glanced at Remus, she couldn’t help but feel that the best was yet to come.

The warmth of their connection enveloped them as they navigated the halls of Hogwarts together, side by side, hand in hand. They were no longer just friends playing a role; they were two souls in a dance of love, ready to embrace whatever adventures lay ahead.

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vodika-vibes · 2 months ago

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Can we get some Echo smut pretty please!! (Also one of my biggest pet peeves is how like every tbb echo/reader fic is always about him being insecure about his prosthetics like I get it but it's so repetitive. My man can be so confident and cocky when he wants to be and people seem to forget that.)

Who's Insecure

Summary: Several months after joining Clone Force 99, Hunter surprises them with a night off at a local club. But, for some reason, his brothers seem to think he will be insecure about his new appearance. Which means, he has a point to prove.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1557

Warnings: Smut, club sex, Echo uses his scomp for purposes it's not designed for

A/N: So, I love Echo, and I love Echo smut, and I'm really not sure why I don't write more of it. But, anyway, here's Echo smut with some plot. It's not a lot of smut, but I hope you like it anyway.

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

It’s a nice club. It’s not 79s, it doesn’t have the same comfortable vibe that 79s has, but it’s good all the same. The alcohol is cheap, the snacks are edible, and the music is loud.

For Echo, it’s good enough.

Honestly, he’s more surprised that his little brothers were willing to go clubbing at all.

While he would never say so to their faces, they aren’t really the clubbing type.

Which is a shame, because there’s a cute girl near the bar who hasn’t taken her eyes off Tech since they arrived. But, knowing his genius little brother, he won’t notice. And, even if he did notice, he wouldn’t know what to do about it.

At times like this, he really misses Fives and Jesse.

But, much more importantly, he has his eyes on a pretty little thing dancing up a storm on the dance floor. So far she’s turned away everyone who’s tried to dance with her. That said, she keeps meeting his gaze and tossing him flirty grins, so he’s just biding his time.

What kind of older brother will he be if he ditches his brothers before making sure that they’re having a good time?

“Echo?” He pauses, his bottle only centimeters away from his lips, and he tears his eyes away from swaying hips to focus his attention on his, suddenly nervous, brother.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Just,” Hunter nervously shares a look with Crosshair, who looks almost bored, “We just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Echo stares at them blankly for a moment, and then he smiles, “Sorry?” He’s got to at least pretend to be a good role model, right? He can’t just ask them what the kriff they’re talking about, that’s rude.

“We know that you’re a little uncertain about your new look,” Tech says without looking up from his datapad.

I’m what now? Echo blinks at his brothers, genuinely thrown by Tech’s comment.

“And people can be cruel,” Hunter continues, “Just don’t let it get to you if people make comments—”

Suddenly, Echo realizes that his new little brothers seem to think that he’s insecure about his prosthetics. Or his scars. Or maybe both. Maybe he’s done too good of a job at hiding his gremlin personality (as Rex calls it) from them.

He hums thoughtfully, his mind racing, and then his gaze slides back to the dance floor. For a moment, his gaze lingers on a specific pair of swaying hips and legs that go on for miles…and then he smirks.

Echo downs the rest of his drink and sets the bottle on the table, before he pushes to his feet, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, vod’e.” He turns to head to the dance floor, “I won’t be back to the Marauder tonight,” He tosses over his shoulder with a slightly smug smirk.

He weaves through the crowd of people and dismisses the two men who are trying to force his dance partner to dance with them with a flick of two fingers.

She grins up at him, “I wondered if you were going to join me,” She teases, her voice light and conversational.

Echo’s hand slides low on her hip, “Patience is a virtue, didn’t you know?” He’s amused and he sounds it, “I’m definitely worth waiting for, babe.”

She hums and trails her fingers down the front of his shirt, “Prove it?”

“Gladly.”

In full honesty, you didn’t expect the cute soldier to actually come over to you. You don’t expect your flirty looks, teasing smiles, and seductive dancing to tempt him onto the dance floor with you. Let alone for him to clutch you to him as though you’re his and his alone.

He’s confident and cocky, not to mention strong and unfairly handsome. He has you wrapped around his little finger after one dance, after two you’d probably agree to anything he asked, and after the third dance, you’re wondering what you have to do to be able to keep him.

Your back bumps against the cool metal door of a storage room, and you can feel the music from the club vibrating down to your bones, but neither sensation is as important to you as the feel of his lips against yours, and his tongue sliding against your own.

His arm is tight around your waist, holding you flush against him, as he blindly opens the door behind you and then walks you into the small room. You hear him lock the door as it slides shut behind him, and you whine low in your throat as he pulls away from you.

Echo chuckles and cups your cheek, “Someone’s eager,” He kisses you quickly, and pulls away again making you pout up at him. He looks amused, you can tell that much even in the dim light of the storage room, though you’re not sure why he’s so amused.

You don’t say anything, just deepen your pout, and lean into his warmth.

His thumb slides across your lower lip, “Ah, cyare. I’m going to have to break you of these bratty tendencies,” But, even as he says it, he looks delighted.

“Not bratty,” You whine, before you take his thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently. You have a very talented mouth, maybe if you show him just how talented you are he’ll continue touching you again.

You keep your gaze locked with his, so you watch as arousal darkens his gaze. “Very bratty,” His voice is lower now, and you shiver at the promising tone in his voice, “Take your clothes off.”

You blink at him and pull away from his thumb, “All of them?”

“Did I stutter?”

You take a step back and slowly start peeling your clothes off. You’re not wearing much, all things considered. A top, a skirt, panties, and your sandals.

You’re about to toss your panties to join the rest of your clothes, but Echo tugs them out of your hand and shoves them in his pocket. You don’t mind, it’s not like you don’t have more after all.

“Mm, look at how pretty you are,” Echo murmurs, as he backs you toward a table near the back wall and encourages you to sit on it. It’s surprisingly sturdy, for a wooden table. He taps the inside of your knees, spreading your legs so that he’s able to stand between your thighs.

His gaze drops to your pussy, and he releases a quiet breath, “Look at how wet you are,” His gaze flickers to your face as he slowly brushes his scomp against your clit, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “All this for me?”

For some reason, you feel like you should be embarrassed at just how aroused you are for this man you just met, but you aren’t. You feel safe and warm and you want more.

You are aware enough to know that he’s not a mind reader, so you squirm under him and spread your legs slightly, “More,”

He grins at you, “What was that? You want me to stop?”

“No, More! Echo—”

He pulls his scomp away from your clit, and you release a whine of displeasure, which is quickly muffled by his lips against yours, “Greedy,” He chides against your lips, “And so rude. Did no one teach you manners?” His tone is teasing.

You blink at him, hazily, “Please?”

“Please what, beautiful?”

You tug on the front of his shirt, “Touch me,”

“I am touching you,”

And he is, his lips are moving across your jaw and down your neck, while his hand alternated between tightly clutching your hip, and caressing every inch of skin that he can reach.

You squirm against him, able to feel his erection pressed against your thigh through his jeans, “Stop teasing me,” You whine.

“All you have to do is tell me what you want,” Echo replies, “That’s it. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I want—” You’re interrupted by a loud moan at the sensation of his scomp ghosting against your pussy.

“You want?” He’s laughing, the jerk.

It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and you shoot him the neediest look you can muster, “I want your cock, please?”

His grin widens, “Well,” Echo leans in and kisses you slowly, “Who am I to deny such a polite request?”

He pulls away just enough to unfasten his pants and tug his boxers just enough out of the way for his cock to bounce free, “You’re not gonna fully undress?” You ask, breathlessly.

“If you’re a good girl,” Echo replies as he gathers some of your arousal on his fingers to spread on his cock, “Maybe you can have me in your bed and see me naked.”

“I can be good,” You counter, and then your head falls back with a moan as the head of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yeah?” His hand moves to the back of your head and he makes you look at him. There’s a grin on his handsome face, and you gasp as he thrusts deep inside you with one firm roll of his hips.

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he bottoms out and stops moving, much to your displeasure.

Echo’s lips hover just over yours, as he throws your words back at you, “Prove it.”

@n0vqni @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @cc--2224 @adriennelenoir

#star wars #tbb #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #18+ fic #nsft #answered asks

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solarspringg · 3 months ago

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Random Marauders Headcanons :3

• Sirius has awful hearing. If you want to talk to him, you have either be super close to him or yell super fucking loud. His hearing is ruined from constantly blasting his music at such a high volume. James is always telling him to turn the volume down and that he needs some kind of hearing aid (half jokingingly). However, Sirius claims his hearing is perfect, but that’s the biggest lie ever.

• James runs hot. Like it’s actually insane how he’s always hot. It will be the middle of winter and he will be complaining that he’s warm while in a t-shirt and shorts. When he’s back at home he’s constantly adjusting the thermostat (his parents hate it) and brings a fan with him to school every year.

• Remus loves listening to people talk, especially Sirius. After a long day Sirius will rant to Remus and go into full on detail, and he will just sit there and listen until Sirius is done and then offer his commentary. He loves it when his friends will have full on conversations that’ll last hours and he’s just listening, smiling about how absurd their topic of discussion is, because you know it always is.

• Peter is an amazing cook and baker. When it came to the other Marauder’s birthdays, he was always in charge of making the cake, and the cake was always so damn good. He is an absolute genius in the kitchen and if you give him a recipe, he’ll make it ten times better.

• Lily hates contemporary romance novels. Absolutely loathes them. She complains that it’s always the same plot and most of the time, the writing is uninspired, lazy, and boring. She prefers classics, biographies, non-fiction, and poetry. Her favorite book of all time is Little Women.

• Mary is extremely passionate makeup. She has a blog about it and everything; from posting her makeup looks, to providing tips, to even writing essays about the history of makeup products and its usage. She does her makeup everyday because she thinks it’s so fun to get ready and try out new looks.

• Marlene can’t dance. Seriously, she’s has the worst rhythm in the world, but she will dance whenever she can. There’s nothing she loves more than to dance at parties and events because it makes her so ecstatic, and she could not give a single fuck as to what anyone thinks of her or her dancing.

• Dorcas is extremely allergic to animals, especially cats. Whenever there is a cat in the area she’s constantly sneezing and her eyes water a lot. One time Evan and Barty took a stray cat in and hid it in their dorm for months. Dorcas’ allergies went crazy and she finally hit her breaking point and screamed at the top of her lungs: “WHERE IS THE FUCKING CAT?!”

• Pandora loves arts and crafts. When it comes to gifts, they’re always homemade and made with an extreme amount of care. She will make cards, jewelry, sweaters, anything. You name it, she’ll make it. She loves scrapbooking as well— She’ll spend months creating books of memories for the people she cares about.

• Regulus is a restless sleeper. It used to be really bad when he was younger. He has an extensive routine he has to follow before bed in order to actually sleep throughout the night, which consists of sleepy time tea, reading, and even yoga (recommended by Pandora and they even do it together sometimes). If he doesn’t follow that routine, he’s up all night tossing and turning.

• Barty cheats at every game he plays. Cards? He either counting them or hiding them anywhere he can. Anything having to do with fake money? He’s stealing money when no one is looking. Literally any game he’s cheating. He’s not even that competitive, most of the time he doesn’t care if he wins, he just doesn’t want to lose.

• Evan is obsessed with anything that has to do with needles and sharp objects. He loves getting piercings and tattoos as well as watching others get them because he thinks the process is cool. He also really loves knives and has a huge collection of them, having knives from practically all over the world.

#marauders #dead gay wizards #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #barty crouch junior #evan rosier #regulus black #pandora lovegood #marauders headcanon #headcanon #harry potter #the marauders

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

The return to Hogwarts.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out to be added to the Taglist, I have tried adding everyone but some blogs cannot be added? I will keep trying for you all 🖤

Apparating into Hogsmeade just outside the anti-apparition jinx perimeter was the only feasible way you could get close to the castle, but it was extremely dangerous, to say the least. There was a bounty upon all of your heads, none more than Harry who had been marked as undesirable number 1. Your plan was to sneak in through the Honeydukes cellar passageway, navigating Hogmeade in the dark just as you had the night George lost his ear to confront Snape. You wished you had the marauders map on your possession and had cursed yourself multiple times for not keeping it to hand, knowing that Grimmauld place was much too risky to return to now that Yaxley had discovered the location of the safe house after fleeing the ministry.

You had not anticipated the alarm that sounded out the second you all apparated into Hogmeade, the Caterwauling charm forcing you to run for cover the second your feet landed on the ground. Snatchers and death eaters were hot on your tails as you hid behind folded tables in the market, holding your breath and trying to control your shaking limbs. Snow covered the ground and you tried your hardest to hide your tracks but it was too late, all of you huddled together beneath a table as footsteps approached. Only when another alarm sounded off in the distance did the men relent and began running to investigate, assuming it to be Harry.

You stood quickly and beckoned the rest of your group to follow you, trying to slip through the jitty that ran between the Hog's Head and the side entrance to Honeydukes. Your heart sunk as you spotted a newly installed railing too late, cornering you and preventing you from escaping. You turned to Ron with a look of fear in your eyes, desperately trying to think up a backup plan as you tried to pull the secret passageways from your memory.

"Potter, in here!" A voice whispered from the side, urging you to run forward for cover.

A large portrait on the wall grabbed your attention immediately, a young girl with a clipped smile and distant eyes.

"You bloody fools, what were you thinking coming here?" The deep voice said, walking into the room. His likeness to your ex-headmaster was striking though not in the way that they were identical but almost as if they had the same kind eyes and long white hair and beards. "Have you any idea how dangerous it is?"

"You're Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother," Harry says, watching as the man briefly pauses mid-step before continuing on to peak out the shuttered windows, looking for any sign of suspicion with a vague noise of confirmation.

Aberforth kindly fetched some food and drink for you all though you don't launch for it as Ron and Hermione do, your stomach in knots about the next task.

"We need to get into the castle, tonight," Harry says with urgency, also not moving to reach for the food.

When Aberforth turns to him with a look of confusion and disgust, Harry presses, "Dumbledore gave us a job to do."

"Did he now?" Aberforth replies sneakily, pouring himself a drink. "Nice job? Easy?" He asks sarcastically, implying a conflict between them and previous knowledge of Albus' riddle like tasks. His face beamed with a sardonic smile that didn't reach his eyes, though he clearly found it an amusing situation.

"We've been hunting Horcruxes," Harry admits. Your gaze shoots your to him in surprise and alarm that he'd admitted it out loud to a man you barely knew. In truth, you had been more than hesitant about things since the incident with Bathilda, not to mention your multiple uses of Polyjuice Potion in the last few months alone. Quite frankly, you didn't trust anyone to be who they claimed to be.

"We think the last one's inside the castle, but we'll need your help getting in," Harry says. The tension on the room lingers as Aberforth places down his drink, eyeing Harry with suspicion, not astounded at the claim as you had anticipated him to act.

"That's not a job my brother's given you, it's a suicide mission. Do yourself a favor boy. Go home. Live a little longer."

"Dumbledore trusted me, to see this through," Harry counters, unfazed by Aberforth's harsh tone.

"What makes you think you can trust

him! What makes you think you can believe anything my brother told you! In all the time you knew him, did he ever mention my name? Did he ever mention hers?" Aberforth gestures to the painting of the young girl you'd spotted upon entering, her vacant expression never changing even as she's addressed.

"Why should he?" Harry begins to say, before Aberforth interjects.

"Keep secrets? You tell me." He goads.

"I trusted him."

"That's a boys answer," Aberforth dismisses. You cast a glance at Hermione as the two argue back and forth, keeping surprisingly cool under the tension. Ron, standing beside Hermione, looks less concerned as he continues to eat, shoving his mouth full of food as he watches the confrontation before him. "A boy who goes chasing Horcruxes on the word of a man who wouldn't even tell him

where to start. You're lying. Not just to me, which doesn't matter, but to yourself as well. That's what a fool does." Aberforth has taken a few steps towards Harry but he stands resolute. "You don't strike me as a fool, Harry Potter. So I'll ask you again. There must be a reason."

Harry remains resolute even as Aberforth moves ever closer to him, the tension lingeries thickly in the air as you await Harry's answer.

"I'm not interested in what happened between you and your brother, I don't care that you've given up. I trust the man I knew. We need to get into the castle tonight."

Ron's gaze flickers to you and you look upon eachother with an unreadable expression, both relating caution as you anticipate Aberforth's next move. Harry stands strong, not cowering under the dark gaze of your helper. After several seconds of intense, silent exchange, Aberforth shifts his gaze to the painting of the girl, his eyes softening as he glances at her, relenting.

The girl gives a nod, still holding her wistful smile and turns, waking off into the distance of the oil painting, her form getting increasingly smaller the further she walks.

"Where've you sent her?" Asks Harry, curiously watching the girl disappear from the frame.

"You'll see soon enough," Aberforth replies, a little cagey.

"That's Ariana, isn't it? Your sister. She's beautiful," you say, trying to pull Aberforth back on to your side, feeling like a disquiet was pulling at him and Harry that you didn't want to linger.

"She'll always be beautiful," Aberforth says, glancing at you briefly. You nod with a small smile, understanding his wistful tone.

"She died very young, didn't she," Hermione adds delicately, though Aberforth doesn't glance at her, nor reply for a few moments as Hermione's statement hangs in the air.

"My brother sacrificed many things, in his journey to find power, including Ariana. She was devoted to him -- he gave her everything, but time."

"Thank you Mr Dumbledore," you say quietly. He stares at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before nodding curtly and walking into the other room up the stone steps. You catch Ron's eyes who looks at you in question but you shoot him a harsh glare, telling him to back off. The four of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, looking around the sparse room and waiting for your next instruction or sign.

"She's coming back! And she's got someone with her!" Hermione calls, scrutinising the painting as a very small figure emerges from the back of the canvas. The whole scene is slightly ominous as you wait for the image to become clear, a sense of dread filling you as you consider who would be with her. Had you been set up?

"Who's that with her?" Ron asks, moving to stand closer as you all fixate on the second figure, increasing in size as they move closer, seeing that the second person was limping. The second person moves behind the girl, concealed completely as the frame around the painting creaks open from the right side. You draw your wand, ready for whatever might be unleashed but frown as you see the opening to a dark and long tunnel, revealing exactly who was stepping closer. "Bloody hell!"

"Neville!" Harry says with a smile, thankful to see an old friend. "You look

"Like hell I reckon," Neville says, crouching down with his wand in his hand. His cardigan is marked and dirty, much like his face that holds scars and fresh cuts. "This is nothing. Seamus is worse. You'll see." He looks at you, then Hermione and then Ron, all with a smile as you greet eachother.

"Hey, Ab. We've got a couple more coming through," he says, turning to Aberforth and addressing him with a familiarity which tells you everything you need to know about the kind bar owner who had been exactly who he stated to be.

"I don't remember this being on the Marauder's Map," you say quietly with a tone of suspicion, looking at the walls of the damp and dark tunnel that surrounds you, completely unfamiliar to even you. Having George and Fred as best friends turned lovers ensured that you knew every secret passageway and hiding place in the castle, and this was one you had never found before.

"That's because it never existed till now. The seven secret passages were sealed off before the start of the year. This is the only way in or out now. The grounds are crawling with Death Eaters and Dementors," Neville explains, leading the way with his wand extended, exuding light to guide your path.

"How bad is it with Snape as Headmaster?" Hermione asks. Even in the semi-darkness you notice her gaze flicking to you at the mention of your old potion master and mentor.

"Hardly ever see him. It's the Carrows you have to watch out for."

"The Carrows?"

"Brother and sister. They're in charge of discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows," he says, pointing to the newest gash on his face.

"They did that to you? But why?" Hermione asks.

"Today's Dark Arts lesson had us practicing the Cruciatus Curse, on First Years. I refused. Hogwarts has changed."

You're amazed by the change in Neville, no longer seeing a scared boy but rather a confident man, no longer afraid to stand up for himself or the people around him. It's a bittersweet reverence you feel, conflicted by his words, knowing that this new regime must have forced him to change. You wondered about everyone else, how had they fared?

Just as you approach the end of the tunnel, a large door appears, blocking any further light. Neville turns to you all with a grin on his face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's have a bit of fun, shall we?" He turns back to reach for the door and slowly begins pushing it open, moving forward to block you all with his body.

"Hey! Listen up, you lot! Brought you a surprise," he calls out, addressing what you assume to be other students.

"Not more of Aberforth's cooking, I hope. Be a surprise if we could digest it," you hear a voice call back, a voice you instantly recognise as Seamus.

Without replying, Neville steps to one side and reveals you all stood behind him, Harry first with Ron, then you and then Hermione in near single file within the small entrance to the tunnel.

"Blimey!" Seamus calls out, his face amongst a sea of others who all turn to the opening at Seamus' exclamation. The crowd erupts with cheers and hollars, your names called out as people begin to stand, clapping and smiling up at you all. You recognise many of the faces there, Luna, Cho, Dean, Lavender, Cormac, Padma and Parvati, Nigel and more. You look around hopefully to try and spot Ginny but you can't see her familiar face nor the familiar red hair you're so hopeful to see.

You descend down the ladder and are immediately met with a surge of hugs, backslaps and handshakes as the group of your fellow students embrace you, greeting each of you with an excitement you'd not anticipated.

"Get the word out to Remus and the others that Harry and the gang are back," Neville says quietly to Nigel, making you freeze in Padma's arms. You naturally assumed 'the others' meant Order members, would they all be joining you? Would you finally get to see Fred and George again? And if you did, would they even want to see you?

You faked a smile as more people greeted you but you felt as if you were on autopilot, your mind spiralling at the idea of seeing your loved one's again and their reaction. You tried to focus of Bill's words from before, his tone was positive and present tense, hopefully they did still want you. You watched from over the shoulder of a student you didn't recognise to see Nigel scrambling to work an old battered wizard wireless, navigating through the crackles of it warming up, speaking quickly and fighting to keep the large headphones on.

"River, DA calling. Do you read? We have a new weather report: Lightning has struck. I repeat, lightning has struck."

"Okay, okay! Stand down! Let's not kill them before You-Know-Who gets the chance!" Neville says, trying to calm the group who have taken to mainly swarming Harry. The sea of people parts and Ron, stood beside Harry, takes your hand, pulling you in towards him as he does the same to Hermione, keeping you all close together.

"Right then. What's the plan, Harry?" Neville says, crossing his arms as he looks expectantly at Harry.

Harry gazes out over the expectant faces in the room, noting the hollow eyes and broken bodies and the desperate, almost palpable desire for hope amongst the crowd. For a moment he seems lost, remaining mute as he is awed by the sacrifice his friends have made.

"Okay. There's something we need to find, something hidden here in the castle. It could help us defeat You-Know-Who," he says determinedly, though if not a little lost. You share a look with Hermione that looks hesitant and concerned, both of you worried to give the game away.

"What is it?" Neville asks.

"We don't know," Harry replies.

"Where is it?" Dean asks, still looking hopeful.

"Don't know that either."

There's a brief pause that lingers with awkwardness, the sea of hopeful faces falling a little as the anticlimactic information is relayed.

"I realize it's not much to go on," Harry says.

"That's nothing to go on," Seamus says a little defensively, rendering Harry speechless for the moment, faltering under the unexpected backlash.

You spot the Ravenclaw banner in the distance and place your hand on Harry's shoulder, stepping in for him as it seems that he's a little lost for words, trying to navigate what exactly he could and should tell them.

"We think it's something to do with Ravenclaw," you say, side stepping to move in line with Harry at the front. "The thing we're looking for, it would be small, easy to conceal. It'd most likely be valuable and sentimental to Ravenclaw herself," you say, looking around at the sea of people who have turned their attention to you. You fixate on the eagle symbol on the banner, trying to look at the Ravenclaw students in the room, knowing they would be the most likely to have some information.

Your words are met with near silence and lost faces, confusion upon some as they look around at each other clueless.

"Well, there's Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem," Luna says from near the back.

"Oh, bloody hell. Here we go," Ron mutters under his breath behind you and you deliver a swift concealed kick to his shin to shut him up.

"The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Hasn't anyone ever heard of it? It's quite famous," Luna says looking around as people turn in her direction, not taking her seriously.

"Yes, but Luna, it's lost. For centuries now. There's not a person alive today who's seen it," Cho says delicately, not wanting to humiliate Luna in front of the crowd. The other Ravenclaw's nod in agreement.

"Excuse me. But would someone tell me what a bloody diadem is?" Ron says, stepping to the other side of you so he doesn't get kicked again.

"It's a kind of crown. You know, like a tiara," Cho says.

You look towards Hermione and raise your eyebrows, seeing the same understanding in her eyes. It was possible, more than possible.

Just then, there's a distinctive rumble of the door opening and you freeze for a moment before you spot Ginny walking quickly over to the assembled group. She freezes for a moment, staring at Harry before mumbling his name with a smile. Ron gives a wave and says hi, though she pays no notice, still intensely staring at Harry who is staring back just the same.

"Six months she hasn't seen me and it's like I'm Frankie First Year. I mean, I'm only her brother," Ron mumbles between you and Hermione and you can't help but smile at his childish grumbling.

"Got loads of those, though, doesn't she? There's only one Harry," Seamus says, turning to you with a smile and a little wiggle of his eyebrows, making your heart flutter and your stomach tie into knots, having momentarily forgotten about the impending reunion with your boyfriends.

"Shut up, Seamus," Ron says without any real conviction, only to be interrupted by Neville who turns to Ginny with a frown.

"What is it, Ginny?"

"Snape knows. He knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade," she says, still frozen to the spot, looking alarmed. Her gaze breaks away only briefly as she looks to you, then Ron, then Hermione. She eventually runs forward and embraces Harry, then pulls you in, then Ron and then Hermione.

"We need to do something," Harry says, turning to your group.

"How long until the order gets here?" You hear Ron ask Neville, trying to make a plan, knowing it would be foolish to act before the order had assembled.

"Anytime now, they've all been called to arms," he replies, looking back towards you as you nod. Trying to ignore the knot in your stomach and the lump in your throat, you turn to Harry, his gazed fixed to the floor, seemingly trying to think of options.

"Harry we need to overthrow Snape," Hermione says, a dangerous look in her eye.

"But we have to catch him off guard," you say, agreeing with Hermione. "We have to wait for the Order to arrive, if it turns into a fight we need backup. Neville how many of the teachers are on his side?"

"Just the Carrow's I'd say, most others have either been threatened, left or stayed to protect the students," Neville says, moving to stand closer to you all, the intel for the plan.

"We surprise Snape, overthrow and outnumber them, then we search the castle whilst the Order sets up defences," you say, looking directly at Harry so that he'd listen to your reasoning, "once we start this, there's no turning back."

He nods almost immediately, his gaze turning to you as he works through the plan in his head.

"That could work," Ron says encouragingly, moving closer to place a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Suddenly a loud alarm rings out, a whirring sound reminiscent of an old war time air raid alarm. You flinch, as does your little group though the other students seem completely unfazed, each of them dispersing to grab their discarded school robes.

"What's happening?" Harry asks, looking around frantically.

"Snape's called an assembly," Ginny explains, quickly placing her outer robes around her. "We have 10 minutes to get to the Great Hall."

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione exclaims as Harry reaches for a robe, quickly placing the cloak around him. So much for your plan.

"You wait here for the Order, I'll sneak in with the crowd, he won't be expecting that," he says, fingers struggling with the ties of the cloak in his haste.

"Hermione it might be the best way," you say carefully, expecting the disbelieving look she gives you. "Snape doesn't know Harry's already in the castle, right Gin?" You ask, turning to Ginny.

"No, the castle would be locked down if he did," Ginny says, agreeing with you.

"I have some Polyjuice potion," you begin to say but Harry stops you.

"No, it has to be me," Harry says, and you nod in understanding, letting him go.

The students pour out, including Harry who is concealed between Ginny and another Gryffindor student you don't recognise, leaving you, Ron and Hermione alone to await the Order's arrival.

The sound of the students marching in formation is an ominous noise, the steady beat of the synchronised footsteps only illuminating the quickened pace of your pounding heart. You took a seat on one of the crates in the back corner of the room, your back to both walls, staring into your lap and wringing your hands as nerves overtake you. The Order, most importantly Fred and George, would be here any minute and you didn't even know where to begin with greeting them.

Would they still want you?

Would they be harsh and dismissive?

Were they mad at you for leaving?

Your stomach flipped with nerves and you tried to hold back the nauseous feeling that kept rising up, your entire being riddled with anxiety. The others seemed to sense your internal distress and left you alone, standing together and talking quietly in the other corner. You pulled out the lebetum from your pocket to keep you occupied and distracted, looking into the frosted glass as you tried thinking of happy memories to see the words form but you were too anxious and conflicted to get a clear thought in your mind, the words remaining hidden. You still weren't certain what the exact use for it was, though it had helped you to retrieve the sword of Gryffindor. Why was the doe significant? You were pretty sure that Dumbledore's patronus was a Phoenix, so surely it couldn't be Albus helping you beyond the grave. The only clue you had was Dobby's cryptic message delivered just before he died, 'my boss was right'. But Dobby was a free elf, Harry had ensured that after the chamber of secrets, planting the sock which freed him from the Malfoys.

Just as you huffed out a breath of disappointment and placed the lebetum back deep into your pocket, a deep rumbling noise broke through the quiet room, alerting you to an intruder. Holding out your wand you waited a few seconds for the figure to appear, visibly shrinking in relief when you noticed Kingsley's signature blue robes coming into view. He was followed close behind by Remus and then Neville. Arthur and Molly stepped in and then Bill and Fleur. It was like you were being tortured on purpose, having to wait and sift through the familiar members until you finally saw the two near identical beings you'd longer for all this time.

They all naturally congregated around Hermione and Ron, greeting them with warmth having seen them first as they entered, your position partially hidden in the back corner. Almost immediately, you see George and Fred looking around worriedly as you aren't with Ron and Hermione. George catches your eye line first and you immediately stood up on shaking legs, feeling breathless and frozen in place, unable to take even a single step out of overwhelming fear that you'd be rejected after all this time.

His face erupts with sheer relief as he nudges Fred hard with his elbow, alerting his twin to your presence. Both twins turned to face you and within one second of turning, they run off from the group and bolt over to you, each pulling at your frozen form as tears erupt, free flowing down your face. George takes hold of you first, muttering unintelligible words as he cradles you tightly. The movement hurts your tender shoulder but you couldn't care less whilst you sob into his chest in relief. Fred speaks too but you can't make it out, both of their voices mixing to form a symphony of background noise. Fred then pulls you into his arms and spins you around, holding all of your weight as you sob and laugh at the same time. He puts you down on the floor and kisses you hard, hands tangling in your hair, no part of you left untouched as George grabs hold of your spare hand, feeling you firmly between them.

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm so sorry baby, I never meant-."

"You're really here."

"I love you."

"Missed you so bloody much."

You all speak at the same time, still clutching onto each other desperately as if one of you would disappear at any moment. George stops speaking and pulls you into a kiss, all his emotions pouring into the kiss, his remorse and regret, longing and desperation from the last months all culminating within him.

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to push you away, I took it out on you and I will never forgive myself," George says with a hiccup, still holding you as he pulls away from the kiss, speaking quickly so that he can be the first one to talk. Your tears have slowed now and from what you can see, both of the twins have their own tear lines too.

"No I'm sorry, I never wanted to leave you, especially not after everything that happened."

"We understand sweetheart," Fred says, stepping back in after giving you and George a moment. He places his hands onto your waist and you stand between both men, exactly where you should always be.

You hear a cough from the corner of the room and turn to see Remus with his hand in front of his mouth, looking sheepish and a little embarrassed having to break up your reunion. You understand, knowing that business needed taking care of first. You walk back to the group and are greeted warmly by Molly who pulls you into a bone crushing hug, followed by Arthur. Fleur then pulls you in and Bill strides over to you, placing his arm much more gently around you, knowing the problem with your shoulder.

"Told you," he whispers in your ear and you smile, gently elbowing him playfully which makes him laugh, your boyfriends paying close attention to your interaction.

"So where do we begin?" Hermione asks, looking towards Kingsley for leadership. He explains his plan but stops when he realises he doesn't quite know why you've returned.

"We need time," you say, standing straight. "We have to search the castle for something and destroy it."

"Then time you'll have," Kingsley says with a nod, ushering you all forward as you walk in formation towards the great hall where Harry would be revealing himself. You're flanked by your boyfriends, neither of them letting you out of their sight nor more than an arms length away as you walk between them.

Kingsley and Remus cast matching stunning spells as soon as you all round the corner to the hall, taking out the two deatheaters who were guarding the entrance to the hall.

You wait in tense silence, trying to listen in to what you believe to be Snape's threatening monologue until you hear a chorus of gasps, alerting you that Harry had made his move. It was time to act.

Taglist:

@missryerye @football1921 @rk-ceres @weasleywheezer @lotusloisstuff @c0comichi @xthatpottahfanx @aigowen @fandom-taylor @weasleyluver85 @mariamkhaled87 @jewelsrules @ledger-kaos @bucksdonkey @clara-carpenter-morgan @jinxxangel13 @darkrozesblog

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #george weasley #george weasley x you #weasley twins smut #weasley twins x you #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley x reader x george weasley

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like-a-bantha · 9 months ago

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Late Nights in Hyperspace

Summary: As the rest of Clone Force 99 sleeps, you and Tech spend some quality time in the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder playing games on your datapad.

Pairing: Tech & GN Reader (Could be read as romantic or platonic, no Y/N or physical description of reader's appearance)

Rating: G

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1k

A/N: A friend introduced me to The Watermelon Game the other day and now I am obsessed! Maybe too obsessed, since this is what came of it (as well as a full circle of evolution with Star Wars fruit)! Wrote this silly little fic in between rounds of the game while I finish up the next chapter of Busted Hyperdrive, hope you enjoy! <3

AO3 | Masterlist

“You are still doing it wrong,” a deadpan voice mutters over my shoulder, I can practically feel the frustration radiating off of the man behind me, betraying that flat tone, “I have devised a strategy to avoid total failure, allow me to take the controls.”

“I know what I’m doing, Tech, relax.” My grip tightens around the controls almost posessively, hoping he didn’t pick up on the fact that any confidence in my voice is bogus. I know I’m flying blind, that's the point, but I’m not telling him that. I take a deep breath and plot my next move.

“I would strongly advise against that.” He’s leaned forward in his chair, his voice much closer than before, and his fingertips brush against my shoulder as he grips the back of my seat.

“Would you.”

“Yes, I would. Though, I know you do not plan on heeding my advice, please know my strategy would be much more effective.”

“Would it.” I don’t crack, no, I keep my cool as I finally align the shot and take a deep breath before hitting the button. Bombs away.

The tension in the cockpit is astronomically, laughably high. If this were a holofilm the scene before me would be playing out in slow motion as Tech and I lean forward dramatically to watch the little cartoon jellyfruit fall from the top of my holopad screen to the jumbled pile of fruits below. It’d then cut to the horror on my face slowly transforming into triumphant delight, and Tech’s into shocked defeat, as it comes in contact with another jellyfruit, metamorphosing into a shuura and setting off a chain reaction. Fruits combine, growing larger as they bounce around the screen before settling at the bottom in a small pile. What once was a jumbled mess of fruits has become a single lamta, two meilooruns, and a handful of jogans.

I turn to Tech with a smug grin, “You were saying?”

After a moment, he finally pries his gaze from the screen in my hands to meet my eyes. It’s a rare occasion, proving Tech wrong, so I may as well savor it. I don’t get long, though, as the corners of his lips start to curve into the beginning of a smile, “That should not have worked.”

“But it did!” I nearly shout in glee, laughing quietly in hopes I didn’t just wake the rest of the squad, fast asleep in the racks behind us as we drift through hyperspace. “C’mon, you have to admit that was impressive. I’m only one away from getting the shi-shok and I beat your high score!”

“Your current score is quite the accomplishment. Though, I must admit, it would have been much more impressive had you planned it, dear,” he chides, leaning back into his seat.

“I mean, technically I did,” I shrug, returning my attention to the screen to line up the hovering jogan with the pile below. “Like, it’s the objective of the game. It’s all intentional by default, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Tech chuckles behind me. He shifts forward once again when a dricklefruit appears at the top of my screen with another just behind it, “Place those on top of the meiloorun on the left.”

“Stop backseat gaming, I need it by the kavasa.” I shift the fruit to the right side of the screen.

“The transformation will disrupt the top layer, sending the smaller fruits to the bottom,” I want to disagree with him, but the longer I linger over the drop button the more sound his assessment seems, “Strategy, dear.”

I shoot him a look over my shoulder, I should’ve expected the knowing grin I’m met with. Taking his advice, I move the tiny fruit back to the left side of the screen and let it fall before dropping the next on top of it. The two fuse into a jellyfruit, and a jellyfruit appears at the top of the screen. “You didn’t know that was gonna happen.”

“It was highly probable,” he counters, readjusting his goggles with a confident smirk.

“Nah, I don’t buy it, no way,” I laugh as I drop the fruit, watching as they turn into a shuura with an animated poof, the force of it sending the matching fruit on the right straight to it. The fruits settle into a perfect opening for my next two moves, turning the meiloorun below into a second lamta, then, the final fruit, the highest possible combination in the game: the shi-shok. It’s the closest I’ve ever gotten, I’m well past my previous high score and I should feel victorious, but I can’t seem to bring myself to, “It feels wrong.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t turn to look at him but I hear the confusion in his voice.

“I didn’t catch that, it doesn’t feel like my win.” I bite the inside of my lip in thought, tapping my fingers on the side of the datapad.

“I did not mean to steal your victory, so to speak.” He leans forward once again, thoughtfully this time; his hand returning to the back of my seat, his fingertips ghosting over my shoulder. “This is entirely ‘your win’.”

I meet his eyes and find nothing but sincerity. I nod just once before turning back to the screen and dropping the fruit. Who knew watching cartoon fruits turning into slightly larger cartoon fruits could feel so cathartic. When my gaze returns to Tech, after the lamtas become a massive shi-shok and the fruits begin to settle, I can only smile.

His hand now fully rests on my shoulder and his smile drops to something just a bit more serious, “You now hold the highest score in the game. I will change that.”

Though I pick up on the humor in his voice, as much as he tried suppressing it, I play along and clutch the datapad to my chest, “Never.” Our little act only lasts a few seconds before we’re both trying to keep the volume of our laughter to a minimum.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch & reader #star wars x reader #tech x reader #tech x you #tech tbb

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jimblejamblewritings · 1 year ago

Text

the fake date plot | part 4.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: literally none that I can think of this is supposed to be just good fluffy fun

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: sorry this part is so short

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

You woke up to the sound of absolute silence. The marauders must have all been gone to go do other stuff. You sat up and stretched, seeing a little note on the nightstand addressed to you. Picking it up, you read over James’ words. Everyone was doing their own thing for the day. He’d be back after quidditch practice and you were free to use any of his shower products but don’t touch the pearl looking bottle because that was Sirius’ stuff.

You made your way to breakfast and grabbed a bunch of stuff before setting it down in the marauders’ room and leaving again. Aside from Marlene because she was clearly at quidditch with James, your roommates were all there. You reassured them that you were fine from yesterday and you know Sirius didn’t mean it or wouldn’t have said it if he realized you were talking about yourself.

They looked at each other when you said you would probably be back but not until later. You covered your food with a heating charm and went to go take the best shower ever.

If you always got to use his stuff, you’d be taking showers in James’ bathroom forever. Rich friends were such a nice perk. You’d have to brag to the ladies and maybe sneak some of James’ products back to the dorm.

The steam filled with bright droplets of potions and a bit too much giggle serum. The hot water relaxed your muscles and made you feel good. You didn’t hear the dorm door open as you turned around to let the water hit your back.

James came back from quidditch practice without Sirius who still wanted to go to Hogsmeade since everything closed early on Sunday. The other boy decided not to go and just wait for everyone to come home. He knocked on the bathroom door after setting down his broom and taking off most of his uniform.

“Hello?” you called out.

“It’s James, can I come in?”

“Yeah.” You heard the squeak of the door open before some footsteps. “Merlin, are you peeing? While I’m taking a shower?!”

James chuckled. “I had to go. Anyway, you had to stop and pee three times when I was taking care of you. The second time you made me hold your hand while on the toilet.”

“Wait, seriously? I’m never drinking again.”

“I also came in to talk.” He muttered the silencing charm on the bathroom. “I think we should change the plan. We’re a week or two ahead of schedule and I just don’t think a big gesture would be believable. Especially after last night.”

You listened, and agreed, about the plan change. You and James decided that a small gesture was better. Let people just start to notice that you were dating instead of forcing everyone to witness it.

Now the only problem was you needed several little things that would catch enough people’s eyes that they’d start to talk. Or just something that would make them believe you were dating. The point was James couldn’t publicly ask you out anymore.

You both paused when you heard footsteps and the dorm door swung open. And voices. More than one. More than just boys. Your roommates were wondering where you were because they didn’t see you come back to your dorm after breakfast.

The other three marauders were wondering if James went to Hogsmeade after all since he wasn’t in the room. You stuck your head out of the curtain to meet James’ eyes. He quickly muttered a charm to get rid of suspicion as to the bathroom being oddly silent. You could hear Marlene laugh.

“Or he’s taking his own sweet time in the shower.”

“Let’s just set up the picnic now and get him in a minute,” Peter said.

The others agreed with him. For a moment, you and James breathed out a sigh of relief. Now the next thing was figuring out how to get one of you out of the bathroom and then the other one without anyone noticing.

“Prongs! I’m coming in, need to take a shit.”

You motioned for James to run into the shower. He got in just as the door opened. You realized the marauders had a very open door policy in their room. Without a care, Sirius started talking to James who was trying to keep conversation while looking everywhere but where you were standing.

If it wasn’t important to stay quiet you would’ve laughed. He was holding up your washcloth to censor your boobs. You felt bad. He was fully clothed and the water was beating down on him, soaking through his fabric. Sirius just kept chatting, causing you to roll your eyes as you hoped he would go away soon.

“How long are you going to be in the shower? There’s a picnic in the middle of our room.”

James cleared his throat. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

“Alright, I’m coming in before the food gets cold. Or worse, Mary eats all the treacle tarts before I even get one.”

“Huh?!” you and James both squeaked.

Sirius scrunched his eyebrows at the noise. To save time, the marauders often showered with each other. Normally if someone didn’t want to shower they would just say so. James’ panic at you two being caught in the shower made him lose control for a moment.

Your eyes went wide and you screamed when a deer suddenly replaced the boy in front of you. The deer slipped around as he tried not to stab you with his antlers until suddenly the shower curtain was falling down with Prongs wrapped in it.

You screamed some more as you turned around so Sirius couldn’t see most of you. His eyes went wide. Quickly, he pulled up his pants, ran water over his hands, and ran out of the bathroom as fast as he could. James turned back into his person-self, completely covered by the shower curtain. He stood up and walked over to you. The two of you just stared at each other for a moment. James nodded.

“I’m going to get you some clothes so I can wear my anxiety sweatpants you’ve stolen.”

You nodded. “At least we don’t need an idea anymore.”

“Yep.”

James left the bathroom, refusing to look at anyone as he did so. There was no doubt Sirius told everyone in a panic. He went to his wardrobe and grabbed some stuff for you before going back to hide in the bathroom. Even though they shouldn’t have, all your friends listened at the door. You laughed when he held up the clothes.

“I love overalls!”

“Perfect. I’m taking my sweatpants back,” Jame said as he handed you your clothes before peeling off the wet fabric stuck to him.��

“You say that like I’m some thief.”

“You kind of are.”

“Am not!” you gasped with a sort of indigence.

James looked at you through the mirror. “I have so many pajamas and the only thing you take is the same pair of sweatpants. That’s a habitual thief.”

“James Potter, this is character assassination.”

He came closer to you, grabbing your hand. You both were of the understanding that once you left the safety of the bathroom there was an act to uphold. And only once Xeno or Lily wanted to be with you, or until the week before Valentine’s Day when you would break up if they didn’t want to be responsible for you and James splitting, could you end the ruse. You squeezed his hand before letting him pull you towards the door.

(part 5)

THIS TAGLIST:

@starsval @helloitsmeeeeeee @callsigndiamond @isabela30 @rachelccollier @ghostkingblake @b3t0xic @tendous-pretty-hair @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @superduckmilkshake @sendnuwudes @prongsprincessworld @slightlynotslightlyobsessing @wildernessflora @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @mommymilkerfanclub

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

#james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #marauders fluff #marauders fic #marauders imagines #marauders era

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twinkletoeskc · 5 months ago

Text

Untitled Marauders Fanfic Ch. 1

Summary: 3 O/Cs meet accidentally one night at the beginning of term, little do they know secrets of a certain prankster group become unveiled. What feelings will be provoked? What plots will unravel? All will be revealed in due time.

Heavy enemies to lovers trope, multiple relationships, different POVs, found family, toxic relationships, abusive families

Ships: James Potter x O/C, Remus Lupin X O/C, Sirius Black x O/C

Warnings: umm some violence?? Eventual smut tho not yet

A/N: Hi so I’m actually not the author but my friend gave me permission to post on her behalf. Any positive feedback is welcome and let us know if you would like to see more. Also we don’t have a name for it yet either so any ideas with that would also be appreciated. xo

O/C character moodboard:

(Unknown Title) Ch.1

It is uncharacteristically hot on the first of September, and the students start to lose their clothes as they stand around the massive fire burning on the campus green. Kal stands on the outcrop of her friends, watching them all get drunk and couple up to kick off the new term. She watches as a Hufflepuff walks off with another 6-year into the forest, their giggling swallowed by the roar of the fire and the gaggle of excited students.

She yawns, her shirt sticking to her skin from the humidity. One of her friends offers her the dregs of his alcohol, but she declines. He slinks off nonchalantly, and she takes a seat on the hill, surveying the fanfare from above while nestled in the soft grass. A soft breeze brushes her hair off her sweaty neck, and she follows its path, laying back on the grass and looking at the clear sky above.

The sky is vacant of stars, the full moon illuminating the sky and outshining the other heavenly bodies. She closes her eyes against the glow of the moon, its shine remaining even behind her eyelids.

She just gets comfortable when she hears a howl from the forest.

Her eyes open immediately, and she sits up, turning her head in the direction of the dark forest. She looks back at the group of students partying on the green, but none of them seem to have heard what she did. She stands slowly, eyes focused on the line of forest a few hundred yards from her. She pulls out her wand when she hears another howl, the grass crunching beneath her feet as she slowly makes a path to the wood.

She pauses at the tree line, her toes a brush away from the perimeter of the forest. She takes a slow breath. It feels colder here, so close to something forbidden. She takes another step.

The trees behind her almost entirely swallow the light of the bonfire, but she is unafraid. She ventures into the forest boldly, her wand at the ready. She hears the ghost of cries from the other creatures in the forest, and they raise goosebumps on her arms, but they are nothing like what she heard sitting on the green.

She pauses, hearing a rustling in the forest behind her. She turns around frantically.

“Lumos,” she whispers.

Her wand provides scant light in the overpowering darkness of the forest, and she can hardly see what is in front of her.

“Who’s there?” She asks, her voice swallowed by the trees. A branch snaps to her left, and she turns in that direction, her wand on the defensive.

“Fuck off with the sneaky shit.” She swears, her eyes focused on a silhouette shadowed between two trees. Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step forward, raising the light of her wand to see…

A flash of blue streaks past her face, and she swears, stumbling back.

“Did you just try to curse me?” She exclaims, her eyes wide in disbelief. The other girl remains grudgingly silent, stepping out from the canopy of the trees into the wand light. Her wand is also raised, pointed at Kal’s chest.

“What are you doing out here?” Kal asks, taking a step toward her aggressor.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says, her wand hand steady and trained on Kal, “I saw you sneak off from the party.”

Kal raises her eyebrows, a small smile playing on her shadowed features. “So, you followed me? I’m flattered.”

The other girl scowls, “Don’t inflate your ego. I only came to see what kind of shit you get into in the forest at night like this. Merlin knows what filth you might conspire with.”

Kal snorts, “Those are mighty words. I thought your family respected the House of Black.”

“Not blood traitors like you,” the other girl sneers.

Kal frowns, “Who says I’m a blood traitor?” She asks. The girl nods to the Gryffindor emblem on Kal’s shirt, “Look where you were sorted. All the great Blacks have been in Slytherin. The only ones who aren’t are you and your shithead little traitor of a cousin—”

The girl is interrupted as a jinx flies narrowly past her face and into the space between the trees beyond. She gasps, her confidence thrown as Kal opens her mouth to spit out another curse. She, however, pauses as a squeal echoes through the night.

Both girls stop, their bravado dampened as the squeal reverberates through the trees. They exchange glances before the two of them slowly make their way through the wood to where the noise came from.

Kal raises her wand to provide light, and nearly screams when the Hufflepuff girl she saw sneaking off from earlier suddenly emerges from a crop of trees. She is out of breath and flustered, her lipstick smudged on her face and her hair a mess. Kal frowns, “Have you… been snogging in the forbidden forest?” She asks, incredulity leaking into her voice.

The Hufflepuff looks at her assuredly, “Obviously. Which one of you whores jinxed my date?”

The two girls exchange wavering glances before another howl cracks the silence of the night.

“Shit!” The Hufflepuff exclaims, and the two girls shush her fervently.

“What in the bloody hell was that?” The Hufflepuff exclaims.

“I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Kal explains.

“And it’s why you shouldn’t be in the fucking forest anyway,” the other girl continues, chastising the Hufflepuff.

Another howl reverberates through the air, and this time it sounds closer. The girls slowly inch closer to each other, back-to-back to see around them at all angles.

They hear movement in the darkness ahead of them, and another howl echoes above. Kal swallows a scream as a creature runs through the darkness, the pads of its paws slamming against the hard earth. The Hufflepuff covers her eyes as the creature runs upon the girls missing as it transforms mid-stride from animal to man.

Kal gawks at the disheveled figure, “Sirius?”

Sirius’s eyes are wide with frustration, “Kalliope?” He growls, running a hand through his dark hair. The Hufflepuff girl peaks through her fingers, “Do you two… know each other?” She asks.

“She’s my cousin.” Sirius says, nodding to Kal. Kal flinches at their family link spoken so openly, scowling into the dark.

The Slytherin girl eyes Sirius warily, her brain visibly working behind her eyes. Sirius meets her gaze, shuffling uncomfortably on his feet.

“The fuck are you three doing out here?” Sirius asks urgently, “Do you know what tonight is?”

The Hufflepuff blinks, “It’s… the start of term.” A howl rings close to them, and the Hufflepuff cries out, clutching onto the Slytherin girl. The other girl grimaces but lets her hold onto her arm as she readies her wand with the other hand.

Sirius is visibly nervous, looking around the group warily. “No, you fumbling idiots, it’s a full moon!”

The Slytherin’s eyes widen, “Wait…” She mumbles.

A near growl vibrates the dirt beneath their feet. “Shit…” Sirius whispers, his body tensing defensively. Kal’s eyes widen, following Sirius’s gaze into the forest.

“Is there a werewolf in the forest?” The Slytherin asks, looking at Sirius. He ignores her as the growling draws closer, “Merlin, please…” He prays silently. The Hufflepuff stiffens, her fingers digging painfully into the arm of the Slytherin girl. Branches creak near them, and Sirius growls, “Remus!” he calls out. Kal’s jaw drops, “Remus?” She asks, and the Slytherin girl continues, “Lupin’s a werewolf?”

“I knew it!” The Hufflepuff whispers in the midst of her terror just as something charges out of the darkness.

The groups scatters, and the werewolf pounces. He lands on the Slytherin girl, his weight swallowing her scream.

“Remus, no!” Sirius yells, shifting into a shaggy black dog. The werewolf raises a paw, slicing across the Slytherin’s face. Sirius pounces on Remus, their bodies crashing together. Snarls and growls fill the night as the two boys roll around on the grass, biting and scratching at each other.

Tears mingle with the blood dripping drown the Slytherin girl’s face as she frantically shuffles backward on the grass.

“Come on!” Kal says, lifting the girl off the ground. She grabs the Hufflepuff girl’s arm, running away from the scene before them. They run blindly into the forest not knowing which way it out. The Hufflepuff screams again as a figure cuts across their path.

James Potter looks at them frenziedly, stopping them in their tracks. “What the hell are you three doing? Do you know—”

“Do you know what tonight is?” Kal mocks him, “Yes we are well aware that it’s a full moon, thank you.” They can still hear the boys fighting in the distance, their roars of rage slowly making their way closer to the group.

“Damnit,” James whispers, stepping forward and grabbing Kal’s hand. She jerks back, but his grip tightens. His blue eyes meet hers with intensity, “You better bloody well hold on if you want to get out of here.” He says. She opens her mouth to respond, but he begins running. She’s tugged along in tow, her hand in his. The other girls follow desperately, their footsteps loudly crunching through the dead earth under their feet.

The Hufflepuff nearly sobs when they reach the edge of the forest, the bonfire once again in their sights. They can still hear the wolf and the animagus behind them, seemingly drawing closer with each beat of their feet.

James gives Kal a final push through the edge of the forest, “I though the Blacks were meant to be smarter than this.” He snaps, turning to address the situation within the forest.

“Fuck you, Potter!” Kal yells into the darkness. The Slytherin wobbles on her feet, blood smearing on her shirt. The Hufflepuff desperately attempts to alleviate the situation, trying to keep the Slytherin upright.

Kal turns to the other girls, sighing dejectedly. “Happy beginning of term…” She mumbles to herself.

“Well, well, well…”

Someone limps slowly over the crest of the hill; she can hear the greasy smile in his voice.

“What do we have here?” Filch asks, holding up his lantern with a wide grin.

The Slytherin collapses.

The Hufflepuff starts crying.

Kal buries her head in her hands, “Damnit…”

#the maruaders #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #harry potter #hogwarts oc #original character #original post #marauders #marauders smut #james potter smut #sirius orion black #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #professor snape

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paragonrobits · 6 months ago

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so i was browsing some things and I came across this bit in Quora noting a signifcant bit from 'Remember It' in X-Men 97

bearing in mind one thing I was actually talking about to my brother tonight, but i forgot that it might have some in-universe context; one of Gambit's biggest running plot lines and character details in the original comics is that he is directly responsible for the Morlock Massacre, a horrific event where Mister Sinister (a man so unbelievably evil that not only does he call himself Mister Sinister, he was so evil Victorian scientists kicked him out of the scientific community because even they thought his eugenics ideas were too evil) had Gambit recruit the team that would become the Marauders, at the time an extremely deadly team of killers and mercenaries. Gambit was at this point somewhat mercenary and didn't know or care what they did.

And then the Marauders slaughtered the Morlocks, a community of scared mutants too inhuman-looking to live among humanity but not powerful enough to defend themselves, so they isolated themselves in the sewers of New York. The X-Men tried to defend them, but they were also horribly maimed in the process; Angel (as he was then knonw) was crucified to a wall and septic infection necessitated the amputation of his wings and caused him into a horrible doom spiral is perhaps the most dramatic example, but just about everyone got fucked up in it.

Gambit only found out later, and after he joined the X-Men the horrors he had unknowingly allowed to happen haunted him.

Now, consider the events of Remember It (and oh god i just saw it the night before as of this writing and realizing that its Gambit's last words before he does the most heroic thing and takes out a goddamn master mold is FUCKING ME UP)

WELL, I DIDNT EVEN TIHNK OF THAT.

I DIDN'T EVEN MAKE THAT CONNECTION.

I AM SUPER OBSESSED WITH THE CLAREMONT ERA ESPECIALLY AS ITS BEING REPRESENTED IN THIS SERIES AND THIS HIT ME LIKE A GODDAMN TRUCK AND FUCKING THANK YOU THIS HURTS BUT ITS A GOOD KIND OF HURT. GOOD NIGHT, SWEET PRINCE, YOU WENT OUT LIKE A REAL GODDAMN X-MAN.

(A link to the post I screenshotted here.)

#x men 97 #x men 97 spoilers #gambit marvel #marvel #queued

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to-fly-with-clipped-wings · 10 months ago

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Chapter 1.1 - The Unexpected Visit

Pairing: Harry Potter x Chosen One! Reader

‘“I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.” Hagrid turned to you, a mixture of warmth and respect blazing in his kind eyes. You straightened your back, preening under his gaze. So, what he was saying, basically was that you were the hero of the wizarding world. It had been you. The antidote to the disease. The champion. You were the saviour.’ OR: in which unexpected encounters open your eyes to a whole new world. One, it seems, you know nothing about, but knows everything about you. → Set in a universe where you are the chosen one, and Harry Potter is your best friend who tries to help you navigate the woes of being the lone hero of the wizarding world. A swap au where you are the chosen one, your parents are dead but the marauders + Lily are not. Eventual Harry x Reader, slowburn, friends to lovers. Author’s note: throughout this chapter I’ve put in some obvious parallels to the canon HP universe, but as we progress through the whole series, the plot may or may not become more canon divergent since you are you, and not Harry Potter… Anyways, welcome!!! Let’s see what (Y/n) (L/n), the girl who lived, gets up to. Thank you and enjoy! Series Masterlist

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

Your scar was hurting.

The lightning bolt-shaped mark that rested above your right eye, in a manner of which your foster-mother, Mira Caddel, despised. Your hair had always been a flying mess because of her insistence in shaping it in such a particular way that it hid your ‘hideous scar’. You had definitely been through your pick of crude hairstyles and forced bangs in your lifetime.

It also didn’t help that your foster-sister, Odette, enjoyed grabbing the ends of it when she pushed your head into the bowl of the toilet. You swore that she ripped out at least half of your head when she did (yet, strangely enough, when you got back up, your hair was as normal as it normally was).

Anyways, back to the matter at hand, you supposed.

Your scar typically didn’t pain you. It was more like a weirdly-shaped birthmark at its best. But, right now, it was throbbing, releasing shockwaves of pain that reverberated throughout your head.

You tried thinking of what you’d done to cause this. You couldn’t have hit your head on anything (even though this was a common occurrence since you had outgrown the cupboard under the stairs years ago), because you had just woken up. You didn’t think it was the usual migraine either, because they didn’t want to make you want to scratch off your lightning-bolt scar. You quite liked it after all — it added to your timeless charm.

Maybe it was something you ate last night? What did you do last night? You couldn’t remember it point-blank but —

Oh, that was right. Seconds ago, you were fast asleep, in a dream that involved a bright green flash of light and the sound of a small child’s cry. You had a funny feeling that you’d had the same dream before.

You clutched your forehead. The pain was slowly becoming unbearable, as though someone had stabbed a knife into your brain. You looked around, hoping to find some relief or explanation, but all you saw was the familiar sight of your tiny, cramped room. The floor was littered with clothes, books, and toys that you had collected over the years, mostly from the trash or the charity shops.

A sharp rapping on the door to the cupboard caused you to jump.

A gruff voice snapped out. “Oi, girl! You awake yet? C’mon!”

You groaned, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Callum Caddel, the final puzzle piece to your ‘family’, if that’s what one would call this arrangement. He was your foster father, a well-established family man to most, but a wacky old sod to you. He always managed to go out of his way to irritate or prod a taunting comment toward you.

Your real parents, you’d been told, were killed in a car accident when you were very little. About one year old, too. That was also how you’d acquired your lightning scar. The Caddels didn’t often answer your questions about your biological family, mostly because they didn’t know the answers themselves. You had wound up in the foster care system for about two years before they had taken you in, although you presumed the only reason they did was because they got a sum of two hundred pounds a month for it. The Caddels often did find themselves on the shorter side of the economical scale, and from your own experience, knew how they jumped like fishes out of a bowl at any chance of opportune (free) money.

You stood up, dusting off your tattered pyjamas. A spider scurried up the pant leg, and you bent down to pick it off. Spiders weren’t an odd presence in your humble abode, in fact, you thought yourself to be basically a spider magnet of sorts considering how many you’d find latched to you when you woke up.

The fast knocking resumed. “I want you out! Out!”

You pulled open the door harshly, meeting the pink, rounded, wheezing face of Callum. You snarked at him. “Woulda keep quiet, old man? I’m up.”

“Good riddance,” he spat, looking awfully sour for someone with a chocolate stain on the right side of his mouth. “Hurry up and make us breakfast, girl. We do our own jobs around here, you need to pick up slack! Least, I remind you that you were the one to pick that as your chore. Don’t you know how long we’ve waited for you to wake up?” You eyed him distastefully. “I don’t see much waiting,” referring to the brown mark on his face.

He swelled like a bullfrog, huffing and crossing his arms across his chest. “What did you say to me?” You run a hand down your face. It was too early for this. Brushing past him, you entered the kitchen and began your routine of cracking eggs onto the pan.

You had just begun to fry the bacon when Odette herself decided to grace the kitchen with her glorious presence. Odette looked like an odd mix between her two parents. Her face was in a perpetual state of pinky rage, and her neck blended seamlessly into her torso (in a way that made it seem she did not have any neck at all). Her blue eyes were wide-spread and little, obviously drawn freckles lined her cheeks, sort of in a straight line. You enjoyed making fun at how her freckles seemed to be inching ever so slightly off her face everyday. With how aggressively she would apply them, some freckles would end up roughly the same size as a failed chocolate chip cookie. Her black hair was down, greasy and shiny and damp, which didn’t help her case either.

You were glad that you were not forced to share the same bathroom as her, because the times you’d stepped foot in it (you were forced to scrub it clean, you would have never done it willingly), the poor drain was quite literally clogged with what seemed to be half of Odette’s scalp. You would say that the poor thing ate more than its owner, and that was certainly saying something.

Mira entered the kitchen soon after. Her skin was deeply tanned from all the fake-tanning solutions she’d gone through, still, it was very patchy and not done well at all. Her box-dyed blonde hair was thrown over her shoulder and she brushed her long, claw-like fingers through it. “She looks like a doll”, Callum loved to swoon and you would love to reply with exaggerated, painful gagging, which never went down well with the Caddels.

She narrowed her eyes at you before taking a seat at the table and waving her hand at you. “Glad to see you’re up.”

You glared at her, muttering “lazy oaf”, under your breath before handing out the plates until there was only yours left. It was a flimsy child’s plate, one that Odette had outgrown at the ripe age of four. You powered through your food, the smiling face of Bambi peeking through your slowly diminishing heap of bacon.

Odette’s ugly mug began to twist itself into her gruesome smirk, and her lips parted. Probably to hurl out a teasing jab at your oversized clothes (which was not a phase!) or messy hair. But, before said insult could escape your foster-sister, you all heard the click of the letter-box followed by the flop of letters on the door mat.

Too intune with the deliciously appealing food on your plate, you did your very best to ignore the petulant stares of the Caddels, the stares that edged you down expectantly to fetch the mail.

“Get the post, Odette,” you snapped at her, not glancing up from your precious.

She huffed and got up to get the post.

Your ears were finally being blessed, listening to the heavy thumps as Odette tramped her way down the corridor to the front door. Just as you sank into your chair lazily, her high-pitched shrill cut through the air of the Caddels’ kitchen.

Mira gasped and sprung up from her chair. “Odette!” She sprinted to where you’d heard the scream. The pointy part of her high heel hooked onto the leg of the chair you were sitting on, causing her to stumble. She caught herself on the back of your chair, but the force of her grip somehow managed to topple it over, sending you almost flying and then rolling across the floor.

Groaning, you sat up from your new position on the ground. The clicking of heels and the heavy pants emitted from Mira and Callum respectively grew distant, as the pair of them rushed to check on their precious daughter.

Now, you didn’t really care about the girl herself, but when there was just the slightest possibility that she could be out there, embarrassing herself or prissing her pants in fear - well, now that was an opportunity you couldn’t bear to miss.

As you follow after them, you deliberated whether or not to pop up over to get the camera in order to capture the moment ahead of you.

Looking back, you think that, perhaps, you should have, considering that very moment was to become one of the very best ones you would ever have in your life.

“Who - who are you?” you heard Callum shout. “Don’t you dare come in! Don’t y - !”

“Ah, shut up Caddel, yeh great prune.” retorted another voice.

You did not recognise that voice. The Caddels were social people, sure. They frequently left the house for social outings, like the occasional meetings run by Callum’s drill firm, but never had someone stepped foot near the house. Too ashamed to reveal the tiny size of their floor plan, you reckoned, or maybe they were afraid that the dreadful state of your cupboard under the stairs would scare the lot of them off.

Of course, that did not mean no one knew of your existence. Years of praying that some knight in shining armour would come to whisk you away from the Caddels led you to pick up on rather strange occurrences. Very strange strangers would often stop (quite dramatically too) in the middle of the street to gawk at you. A tiny, funny looking man in a violet top hat had bowed to you once, or when a terribly old woman had winked at you from inside a bus. Ms Fig, the cranky, resident catwoman and your babysitter, down the street also treated you with a gentle softness, offering you extra packs of crisps to take home with you.

The point was, this whole situation was odd. But why?

Your feet skidded against the floor as you came to a stop.

A giant man, one no less than ten feet, with a great, scraggly beard and obsidian eyes that glinted slightly in the light, was stood in the doorway. You barely had time to notice that the poor door was hanging off its hinges, like it had been forcibly opened.

The house was already rundown and shabby enough, and you hoped the giant man would pay for the repair funds. The house wasn’t big enough to fit the four of you, let alone some giant. This was evident when he squeezed his body into the house, causing the door to pop off its frame and go crashing down. The giant man jumped slightly, and the back of his head bumped into the hanging light bulb on the roof. Tiny little shards of crystals pelted down.

Odette squealed and stumbled backwards into the house. The other two, who had gone ghost white with fear, were opening and closing their mouths like lost fish. Callum raised his pointer finger at the giant man, but did nothing more.

The giant’s eyes swivelled around the room before settling on you. His face, still hidden under his mass of hair, grew into a warm smile at the sight of you. A smile, you decided, had to take second place on your very short list of best smiles (after your smile, of course. The Caddels hadn’t qualified, with their hideous jugs, so it was a meagre list of two).

“Ah, there she is! ‘Ello, (Y/n).”

You looked toward him, and if your hands wanted to tremble, you didn’t show it.

Who was this man, and how did he know your name?

“Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby.” the giant man’s smile grew. His eyes swept you up and down, certainly taking note of the baggy, rumpled clothes you had on. “I got summat fer yeh.”

He turned around, fishing for something inside the massive coat he had on. He spun back around, brandishing two things; a letter made from yellowish parchment paper with a purple wax seal, and a slightly squashed box.

Now it was your mouth that was openly gaping at the man. He raised an eyebrow at you, grinning, before handing you the letter.

You almost ripped it out of his hands, your curiosity taking over you. The giant man chuckled at your eagerness.

Ms (Y/n) (L/n)

The Cupboard under the Stairs

5 Alva St

Midlothian

You stared at the letter.

You did often get letters. You were quite popular at school, after all, for your reckless charm. But, still, no one knew about the cupboard under the stairs. Not even a single whisper of it was breathed outside of the house.

“W-what is that?” Mira croaked out. You had forgotten she was there.

The giant man looked like he was about to snap her at but you beat him to it. “Well, that’s what I’m finding out obviously. You think I know more than you?”

The giant man huffed out a small chuckle at your hostility.

Ignoring the faint flushing of Mira’s tanned face, and Callum turning a slight purple on behalf of his wife, you flipped the letter over and yanked out the paper within.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Ms (L/n),

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

You read the letter, and felt a warm tingle surge through your body.

Excitement.

Hagrid smiled warmly at you.

“Yer a witch, (Y/n).”

You had always known you were different, that you had something special inside you. The strange occurrences, the oddly shaped scar on your forehead. That didn’t happen to just anyone. You weren’t like the Caddels, you knew you never had been.

And now, you had proof. You were a witch. A real, honest-to-goodness witch.

You grinned down at the letter, before tilting your head at the giant man. “I can’t believe it. A witch. That’s — that’s well, incredible!”

The giant man was openly laughing at your ecstasy. Even Mira, Callum and Odette had nothing to say. You could see them craning their necks to stare at the letter in your hands.

You smiled at the giant once more when a sudden thought struck you. “Ah — er, maybe I should’ve started with this, but, who are you exactly?”

His shoulders shook with each of his chuckles. “The name’s Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper o’ Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts — yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’course.”

Mira stepped forward, quite suddenly. “I don’t understand. A witch? What are you talking about? Witches, wizards — the whole thing! Those aren’t real!”

Your smile faltered at this. In your excitement (the prospect of finally being whisked away from here), perhaps you had allowed a cloud of delusion to settle over your head. She was right. Magic? Wouldn’t you have known if there was a magical society thriving right under your nose?

You shook your head at this. No. There had to be one. There just had to.

Hagrid’s face fell but he was quick to bring it back up. “Tha’s right. You lot are muggles. Yer hadn’t an inkling of magic.”

“What are muggles?” you asked, perking up at the unfamiliar jargon.

“A muggle,” Hagrid began, “is what we call non-magic folk like them. It’s real bad luck that you ‘ad to grow up with ‘em, instead of yer parents. I knew we shoulda left ya wit’ a wizarding family… ‘least then yeh woulda known about - ”

His eyes widened with realisation as he whipped around suddenly to face you, a sad expression taking over his features. “Then tha’ means you never learnt about yer parents. About Hogwarts. About yerself!”

He looked quite distressed, as he ran a hand down his big face. “A sad thing, really. The whole situ’tion with yer parents. A huge scandal, ‘specially since yeh don’t even know what happened. Ya know, every kid in our world knows yer name? Yer famous!”

Hagrid looked at you, his eyes sparkling brightly. You blinked dumbly.

“Yer famous!” he repeated, noticing the stunned faces on your and the Caddel’s faces. “Gulpin’ gargoyles, I knew Dumbledore said yeh didn’t know much but, I didn’t expec’ yeh knew so little.”

You sucked in a breath, chest puffing out affront. You certainly knew your stuff. Hell, you were salutatorian in your maths class, captain of the football team and the most liked person in your year level. You definitely weren’t stupid, if that was what Hagrid was suggesting.

Hagrid sighed deeply. “It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but its incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows — ”

“Who?” you asked testily, not quite enjoying the way he was talking about this whole thing like it was as obvious as the sky was blue or the grass was green.

“Well — I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.”

“Why not?” “People are still scared of ‘im. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…” Hagrid visibly gulped.

“Can you write it down?” you suggested helpfully, unfolding your arms.

“Nah - can’t spell it. All right - Voldemort.” Hagrid flinched, like some had just rammed a knife into his back. “Don’ make me say it again. Anyways, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘ cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, didn’t knew who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange witch or wizards… terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘Course, some stood up to him - an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then anyway.”

He breathed out, wiping at his eyes. “Now, yer mum was as good a witch I ever knew. Yer father was great as well. Brillian’, the two of ‘em were. Truly. But then, You-Know-Who turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ — an’ —”

He stopped suddenly, pulled out a very dirty handkerchief and blew his nose with it. A noise that caused the remaining chandeliers to rattle.

“He killed them,” you said quietly. It hadn’t been a car crash… no. They were murdered.

“He killed ‘em. An’ then — an’ this is the real myst’ry of the thing — he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn’t do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That’s what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an’ dad an’ yer house, even — but it didn’t work on you, an’ that’s why yer famous. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill ‘em, no one except you, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts — an’ you was only a baby, an’ you lived.”

You raised your hand to cup the scar on your face. A vivid flash of green filled your vision, but this time, you could hear something else — a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid sighed again. “Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter a buildin’ an’ — ” he reached for his handkerchief. “An’ left yeh there, since yeh had no other family!” Hagrid dabbed at the corner of his eyes.

The amount of questions you held grew exponentially. “But, what happened to Vol — er — I mean, You-Know-Who?”

“Good question. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That’s the biggest myst’ry, see… he was gettin’ more an’ more powerful — why’d he go?

“Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’ believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done if he was comin’ back. Most of us reckon he’s still out there somewhere, but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. ‘Cause somethin’ about you finished him, (Y/n). There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn’t counted on — I dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.”

Hagrid turned to you, a mixture of warmth and respect blazing in his kind eyes. You straightened your back, preening under his gaze. So, what he was saying, basically was that you were the hero of the wizarding world. It had been you. The antidote to the disease. The champion. You were the saviour.

The Caddels gaped at you, and then at Hagrid, their heads swivelling like fans at a game of tennis. The foster-couple had their mouths angled toward the floor, looking positively bewildered and confounded at the entire exchange. You truly didn’t care what Mira and Callum thought of you. They were just muggles, according to Hagrid. They were ordinary and boring. Not like you.

You were a witch, a sorceress destined for greatness.

You looked up at the giant man, who was smiling at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “So, what do you say, Ms. (L/n)? Are you ready to join the wizarding world?”

You didn’t hesitate. You nodded eagerly, clutching the letter to your chest. “Yes, yes, yes! I can’t wait to go to Hogwarts!”

The giant man laughed heartily. “Tha’s the spirit, lass!”

“J-just hold on now,” muttered Callum, stepping forward. “That’s all dandy and all — ” you saw Hagrid’s eyebrow twitch. “— but, who’s going to be paying for her funds? Not us, I can assure you.”

Hagrid scowled. “We’ll cover it then. Ungrateful old muggle.”

You stifled a laugh.

Callum snatched the letter from your hands, inspecting the list of equipment. “She needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books, wands, cauldrons. This is just some great joke isn’t it?” He turned to you suddenly, his moustache twitching violently. “You’re in one hell of a punishment after this, girl. Think it’s funny, do you? Wasting our time with this wizarding nonsense. Some hilarious prank.”

“It’s very much real,” spoke Hagrid, his voice rising steadily. “And don’ yeh worry yer little head off, Caddel. She’s one of us. You don’t need to be butting yer head into it now. Yeh’ve done all yeh needed to fer the past ten years, bare minimum from the looks of it, but we’ve got ‘er now. ”

Callum’s face went an ugly shade of purple. “Good, I suppose.” he replied stiffly. “Then get along.”

He grabbed Mira’s shoulders and they started walking back into the kitchens. Odette turned to look at you, her eyes flickering to Hagrid, before her lips curled into a wide smirk. “Have fun, at your special school.”

You sent her a nasty glare, taking a step toward her before Hagrid disciplined her for you. A loud explosion blew Odette’s hair backwards, a warning blast that, to your pleasure, curtailed her growing ego. She shrieked and high-tailed it to the kitchen, sprinting faster than you’d ever seen her run before.

You barked out a laugh at Hagrid’s guilty face.

“Sorry, shouldn’ta lost me temper. I’d be grateful yeh if didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I’m — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter do a bit ter get yer letters to yeh an’ stuff — one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job — ”

“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?” you asked, tilting your head at him in interest.

“Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”

“Why were you expelled?” “We’ve spent alotta time here,” said Hagrid loudly. “We still gotta get yer books an’ all. Let’s get goin’.”

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Diagon Alley was a strange little place.

After passing through a grubby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, and getting your hand furiously shaken by everyone in the store, Hagrid had led to the small outroom beside the pub and whacked his pink umbrella against a stray, mouldy looking brick.

You raised an eyebrow unimpressed when nothing happened after a second. The very next second, however, the entire structure began to collapse and expose the treasures hidden within.

A knobbly street with stores positively hanging from the ground as they towered over everyone — even diminishing Hagrid of his giant stature. From what you could see, there was a cauldron shop with various different kinds of pewter, copper, brass, even silver cauldrons. There was an owl emporium, from which you could hear the distant chirping of owls, and a ‘Quidditch store’ (whatever that was) with boys and girls around your own age stood around the place, pressing their noses to the glass. At the very end of the street, there was a snowy-white building, significantly larger than the rest, whose sign read ‘Gringotts.’

Hagrid had debriefed you on some of the commonly known things in the wizarding world; one of which was Gringotts. Gringotts was the resident wizarding bank, where wizards would deposit their money (knuts, sickles and galleons) into vaults that were fiercely guarded by goblins. Apparently your parents had even stored a wizarding fortune for you in one of those little vaults.

And so was true. A goblin named Griphook cracked open your vault to reveal piles and mountains of bronze, silver and gold coins. You reached inside and grabbed as many coins as would fit into your pouch.

You visited another vault too, one for ‘secret Hogwarts business’ as Hagrid put it. Of course, you tried your best to get a peak at the small item wrapped delicately in its brown paper package, but Hagrid had been quick to shove it into his coat pocket.

After a tumultuous cart ride back up to the surface, you went about doing some boringish house-keeping work, which included sizing your robes, buying your books, stationary and other equipment (Hagrid wouldn’t let you get the rainbow, colour changing ink bottle nor the quill that sung melodies to you as you wrote).

The last thing that was left was getting your wand. But before that, Hagrid had departed mysteriously, telling you to stay put at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour with your chocolate and raspberry ice cream (with chopped nuts) until he returned.

Naturally, you did not stay put.

Sauntering over to the ‘Quidditch’ shop you had passed before, ice cream cone in hand, you joined the small crowd still present in front of the display windows. You took a small lick of the chocolate syrup as you squinted your eyes at the thing everyone was obsessing over.

A broomstick.

You stifled a laugh. Of course, witches and wizards rode brooms – what else were you expecting? It must’ve been a form of transportation here. The label under the broom read ‘Nimbus Two Thousand - newest model of the Nimbus line.’ You looked at it appreciatively.

You leaned to the right slightly, trying to look at the models surrounding the Nimbus, but you swayed too far and ended up bumping shoulders with one of the boys next to you. He jumped and turned to you with a start.

“Sorry,” you grinned at him. “I was trying to look at the other brooms.”

He smiled back at you uncertainly. “That’s fine. Are you a first-year at Hogwarts too?” The boy had messy black hair and rounded glasses perched on his nose. His brilliantly emerald-stained eyes shone out, past the glare of his lenses, as he made eye contact with you. He was quite scrawny for his age too, or perhaps that was created by the robes he was donning. Weirdly, your breath stuttered slightly. Now that was strange - your breath had never frozen quite like that before. Maybe it was part of the wizard charm, he was the first wizard you had really talked to (aside from Hagrid, but you were still unsure if he was a giant, a wizard or both).

Oh cripes, he wanted an answer didn’t he? “Uh — yes, I am. First-year. Hogwarts.” You nodded, in order to solidify your statement.

“That’s cool,” said the boy. His hair flopped onto his face and he pushed it back to expose the unmarred skin on his forehead. Your hair too had also fallen onto your face, covering your scar, but you weren’t as fussed about adjusting it. “I’m a first-year as well.” He gestured to the shop in front of you. “Do you like Quidditch? Well, you’re standing here so you probably do. Do you play much? What position?”

“If we’re being honest here, I frankly have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scratched your cheek, smiling sheepishly at the boy. He blinked, tilting his head. “Oh, like you don’t know what Quidditch is? At all?” “Yeah.” you answered. “I just came here to check out what had everyone so excited.”

“Oh, okay,” said the boy. “Are you a muggle-born then? Sorry — I hadn’t realised.” You continued to smile blankly at him, head empty from the stuff he was speaking of (what on earth was a muggle-born?).

“I’m a half-blood, see. My father’s a pure-blood, but my mum’s a muggle-born,” he said. “They’re out picking up some extra supplies with my uncles. Don’t worry if you aren’t familiar with anything yet! My mum was too, when she was invited to Hogwats, but then she ended up being top of her year and head girl. Here, let me explain Quidditch to you - you’ll love it…”

The boy rambled on with his speech about the sport - something about seven players, four balls, something called a chaser? which was what position he played. You certainly didn’t absorb anything he was saying, but you did note that he had a nice smile. A bit awkward and unsure, but it was still nice.

He was about to dive into the finer details of the game when Hagrid’s voice called out. “(Y/n)! (Y/n), where are you?!”

You grinned apologetically at the boy, stuffing the end part of the cone into your mouth. “Sorry - that’ll be me. Great talking to you though, see ya at Hogwarts!”

You began to scurry away toward the sound of Hagrid’s distressed call, missing the way the boy’s green eyes widened at your name. “(Y/n)... (L/n)?”

His father, James Potter, snuck up behind him and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “What’s up, little Prongslet?”

The rest of his family came piling up behind the two. His mother, Lily Potter, whose forest-green eyes and bright red hair were positively sparkling at the sight of her husband and son. Lagging slightly behind were his uncle, Remus Lupin – with his robes prim and proper, not shabby at all, how he liked them – and his other uncle, Sirius Black, who was currently partaking (with much joy, might one add) in trying to pull Remus’s robe hood over his face.

“Alright, Harry?” asked Lily, her fingers brushing away his bangs. “What’re you looking at?” “Um. Nothing,” said Harry Potter, tearing his eyes away from the spot you were last standing and back to his family. They met his gaze with their own warm, bright ones. “At least, I think so.”

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

The thing, Hagrid had left to do, ended up being a present for you. A little something for your admission into Hogwarts, he had mentioned. You were grinning ear to ear, thanking him profusely, when you had discovered what he had given you. You were proud to say that now, tucked delicately under your left arm, was a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. You’d have to decide a name for her later, you thought.

The final store to get checked off was a shabby building tucked nicely away in the corner of Diagon Alley. Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC.

The place was tiny and quiet, and it almost reminded you of a strange library - though the only difference was that it was near empty and the shelves were lined with boxes containing wands rather than books.

Hagrid took a seat on a small pink spindly chair, though he nearly leaped off it when a soft voice echoed out within the small shop. “Good afternoon.”

“Hello!” you said back, twisting your neck to try and get a glimpse of the voice. “I’m (Y/n) - “ “(L/n). (Y/n) (L/n), yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon.” An old man popped up in front of you, his watery grey eyes fervently scanning your figure up and down.

Mr Ollivander touched the lightning scar on your forehead with a long, white finger. “I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… Well, if I’d known what that wand was going out in the world to do…”

He shook his head, before suddenly whipping out a measuring tape to eyeball the length of your dominant arm.

“I remember when your mother was here, buying her first wand. Twelve inches exactly, malleable, unicorn hair. Aspen.” The measuring tape flew away from his hands, now measuring the width of your nostrils by itself.

Your mouth blubbered slightly, gaping at the man in astonishment. “How do you remember that?” The man chuckled. “I remember all of the wands I’ve ever sold, (Y/n) (L/n).”

“Do you know my father’s one, then?” “Your father never purchased a wand.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Was your father like Hagrid then? Expelled from Hogwarts before he could get a wand? (Well, Hagrid did have a wand you guessed, tucked inside his flowery pink umbrella). Your eyes widened.

Was Hagrid your fath —

“He was a muggle,” explained Mr Ollivander. The tape had now switched to measuring the length of your face. “He didn’t have any magic.”

“Oh.” was all you said in reply.

“That’s quite enough,” he spoke to the tape, which fell limp to the floor. “Right then, Ms (L/n). Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it, and give it a wave.”

You took the wand from his hands but before you could do so much as to lift it, Mr Ollivander snatched it out of your hand at once.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -”

And try you did, but Mr Ollivander had snatched it back almost instantaneously once again.

“No, no - here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out.” You tried. And tried. And a little more. The pile of wands on the spindly grew and grew until the poor chair was squeaking and compressing under the weight. Yet, despite the failures in finding your wand, the more Mr Ollivander pulled from the walls, the happier he became.

“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

You took the wand and it immediately spluttered to life. A shower of golden sparks exploded from its tips as you brought it swooshing down from your head. An explosion of colourful fireworks emitted from it, creating little light spots, like the sort you’d find at the surface of a swimming pool. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr Ollivander cried, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… How curious. How very curious…”

He began wrapping your wand in a brown paper bag. “Curious… curious…”

“What’s curious,” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

Mr Ollivander’s silvery gaze hooked onto yours. “I remember every wand I’ve sold, Ms (L/n). Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that scar.”

Your throat became dry.

“Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Ms (L/n)... After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great.”

Great things.

Terrible, yes, but great. That was right.

Ollivander, in his old manly rambles and silvery light gaze, was correct. That was you — (Y/n) (L/n). The only survivor of Voldemort’s wrath, and the sole hero of the wizarding world. It was you who bore the weight of this burden now, and you sure did hope that your shoulders were steady enough.

→ Author’s note: Hello my lovelies, thank you so much for picking up The Girl Who Lived series! 💖 (I think I’ll abbreviate it to TGWL when I write about it though hehe)!!! If you couldn’t tell, this will follow the plotline of the books but it will deliberately omit, add or change some events ;0 Hoped you somewhat liked the whiff of interaction we got between reader and Harry (verrryyy brief but there is more to come, promise!) You don’t have to read this next part but I like analysing and explaining texts so I’m kinda gonna go ham on this chapter//series Reader grew up with her foster family rather than her aunt and uncle like Harry. There was no particular reason for this, ‘specially since both families are pretty similar 😀 Though, one thing that I wanted to point out was that the Caddels aren’t supposed to be as abusive as the Dursleys. The Dursleys are cruel to Harry because they hate magic and they’re spiteful of it, because Petunia was jealous of Lily. On the other hand, the Caddels are an ordinary, Muggle family who happen to be quite prudent and stingy. They have a small house that’s not big enough to house four people, which is why reader lives in the cupboard under the stairs. Odette and reader’s relationship is a more hostile version of a typical sibling relationship, not the social hierarchy pyramid that was Harry’s and Dudley’s. Anyways, the point is they hold no real grudge against magic, but they aren’t fond of reader herself, hence the mocking jabs. Because of this distinct lack of hatred, not only did reader receive her letter on the first day, rather than that canon goose chase/hunt thing, but Hagrid also wasn’t as aggressive to them as he was to the Dursley’s. They don’t hate magic, nor do they hate the reader. To them, she kind of just exists This partly ties into reader’s quite arrogant and brazen personality (which I will analyse more in depth later on… no spoilers!) So yeah, the Caddels aren’t evil or abusive at heart, just a family who needs money and happens to have taken in a teenager with a bucket load of angst (which I will also tap into later ;) (One more thing soz… but if you’re wondering why you met Harry instead of Draco in Diagon Alley like in the og books, well in the canon, Harry goes to Diagon Alley like on the 31st of July (very late). On the other hand, reader received her letter first up so they went to get the supplies on like the 1st hence her and Draco’s times don’t overlap! I chucked Harry in here because since he lives with his parents now, James would def want Harry to get his stuff ASAP to teach him random crap and Lily would want him to start studying or practising for school LOL) Series Masterlist

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