#them looking down and watching Victoire live

[starfallkaz]

Robin & Ramy

Thinking of a Babel afterlife, and I’m imagining Robin and Ramy meeting there. The clasped shoulders, fierce grip, drawing close to press foreheads together, with all those words unsaid but felt. Ramy softly saying ‘Birdy’ , the shudder of relief that would go through Robin, who thought he’d never hear his name through Ramy’s lips again. The overwhelming relief to be together again.

[reneedenoailles]

They behead valets, don't they ? (a vfv oneshot)

HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE END OF VFV !

fandom: vying for versailles pairing: implied / mentioned renée x louis characters: renée de noailles (called victoire here), alexandre bontemps rating: M word count: 1176 words. trigger warnings: implied animal abuse, implied daddy issues i guess. also victoire enacting psychological warfare on a 39 year old man. also talk of mildly gory public executions. summary: after framing alexandre for the murder of queen maria theresa, victoire de noailles, duchess of marly & official mistress decides to see alexandre in the bastille, before his execution. tagging: @rc-catalog

La Bastille, 1667.

Footsteps echoed throughout the halls, causing Alexandre Bontemps to snap out of his reverie, soon realizing how cold the ground of this prison cell was. Prison... Never in his life had he thought the King - whom he had worked to serve since boyhood - would lock him in the prison reserved for traitors to the Crown. All because of her... Victoire.

The one he brought to court - who he thought he could use. He hated to admit it, but she had outsmarted him. Never, in his thirty-nine years of living, had he felt so silly. He had been outplayed. "This way." He heard de Montlezun speak, right before he turned around.

And there she was. The Queen. The strongest piece on the board. He turned, scowling as he saw the source of his troubles. She had her usual smirk painted on those dark red lips, a smirk that Alexandre despised more than anything - the very same smirk that caused him to end up here.

"Didn't think you one for prayer." Victoire finally spoke, causing him to get up. Standing so tall, and yet, so... inferior. She smiled up at him, gold jewelry shining in his eyes. "I am not." He quietly replied. "But sometimes one tries to rely on the ones from Above, if those on Earth fail him." Even through his quiet tone, Victoire could hear his inner anger - the anger he's worked for so long to keep hidden underneath his wicked smiles. "I know you poisoned the Queen." "I have no idea what you mean." She viciously replied, of course - knowing exactly what he meant by that. They both knew, but clearly, one of them had the upper hand.

"All I know is that you killed her, and tried to frame me for both, the attempted murder of the King, and the murder of the Queen."

Alexandre got closer, tenaciously gripping onto the jail cell's bars - getting his face as close as he could. His features, clearly affected by both his age, and this recent turn of events, hardened, displaying his anger. "You will never get away with this." "Looks like I will." Victoire, on the other side, could not possibly look any brighter. This felt cathartic to her, breaking free of Alexandre's control, and becoming the Queen of France, although she wasn't so sure of that last part - it all depended on Louis. Queen or not, what mattered to her most was established: control, and by association, revenge.

She was elated at the mere thought of Alexandre's head on the chopping block, waiting for the sword to fall down on him. The Duchess of Marly's inner arrogance killed Alexandre - he hated her. He HATED her. And he hated himself. For bringing her to court, for not being smart enough on that note, for miscalculating... He shook the bars a little, his voice raising. "You're a witch ! You're nothing but a lowly, disgusting witch ! You'll burn in Hell for this !" He yelled at her, which simply made her laugh. To her, that was hilarious, watching Alexandre's mask slip off. He had made her cry before, and now she could crack him open, like an egg. A freshly picked egg from a chicken's nest - the chicken, in this case, being the King and his little creatures.

"I'd suggest you speak to me in another tone, Alexandre." While she was smiling - her voice seemed more commanding, as if she were chastising her maid. It instantly shut down Alexandre, as she continued. "I am the Duchess of Marly. You WILL speak to me with the due respect you owe me, Bontemps." She emphasized his last name, and his lack of titles along with it, before continuing. "While you may fancy yourself the little title of Valet, at the end of the day, you are a servant. A peasant, I'd even go as far as saying. Do not forget that the King was generous enough to have you die by the sword, like a noble. I could always change that..." She wrapped one of her hands around a bar of the cell, that empty look in her eye making him shiver and back away.

It was as if she had no emotion, her eyes showcasing a form of pure, yet disastrously calm madness. "I could always talk to the King about you." Victoire's lips curled into a smirk - one that displayed how much she actually held Alexandre in her palm. "You could be burned, like a witch. Like Bonne. Poor her." She didn't even mean those words, but the chill running down Alexandre's spine somehow... excited her, in a way. The memories of two years ago, the Valet blackmailing her, were still very fresh in her mind, so now that she had gotten the upper hand, she was going to at least have fun with it. "Maybe you'll be on the breaking wheel. Or maybe..."

She saw his fear, in those eyes, and how much he was trying to conceal said fear. "I'll have you quartered, like Ravaillac. He did kill a King... And you poisoned a Queen." "I did not ! You liar !" "Do not bark at me." She quickly responded, leaning in. "Your father must have trained the dogs better than that." At that thought - seeing how he immediately recoiled - she decided to keep going. She wanted him not only weak, but broken after this encounter. She wanted his mask to completely shatter. "I wonder how he would feel, if he saw you right now. What a disappointment his beloved son must be. More worthless than the dogs he trained."

"SHUT UP !" Alexandre suddenly yelled, tears streaming down his aged face. Victoire stepped back just a bit, letting go of the bars. She had never seen Alexandre cry, she didn't even know he could do that. But that ? It pleased her. She couldn't help but allow a little smirk to appear on her beautiful face, seeing him be the shadow of the man who blackmailed her. His father must have brought back painful memories, it seems.

He was entirely humiliated.

Reduced to this; a crying mess, on the floor, his knees giving away as he looked up to the woman who had kneeled down, to be on his level. Her smirk was still overwhelmingly present, looking down at him.

The way she looked at him... it wasn't like a woman looking at a man. It was like a chess player, looking at a pawn. Victoire leaned in, voice low, yet clear enough for him to hear.

"I own you, Alexandre."

And with that, he watched her get up, and dust herself off. Not even addressing him a last word - nothing. Simply turning on her heels, and walking away. He gripped onto the bars, watching her leave, waiting for the moment she would turn around and look at him.

"VICTOIRE ! VICTOIRE !" He screamed her name, louder, and louder - as loud as he could, loud enough to lose his voice. But she was already gone.

And there he lied, all alone, in his cell. In the dark.

[angelsaxis]

Ooh the layers to every interaction these four have. Their toxic ass racist white girl friend plays dumb about or outright refuses to acknowledge the racial reality that they're living under, and it corrupts basically every word that comes out of her mouth. They were put in a dangerous racist situation because of her. Robin's white passing and has unfortunately adopted the same patronizing/paternalistic protection orders that your typical white Englishman would have for anyone who was Black or Indian and under their care. Robin's genuine concern for his friend's safety is beat out by how much he's internalized the shitty parts of England and academia. I wonder if they'd had this conversation earlier if it would have gone smoother (as in, if Letty hadn't been hanging around them and unintentionally making everything worse, whether the conversation would have ended on a better note. I'm thinking no.)

That's because Robin's primary reason for not telling Ramy and Victoire about Griffin was the paternalism. The "I need to protect you from yourself". The "it's my Job to keep you safe". The awareness of the violence Victoire and Ramy are subject to on a daily basis isn't a substitute for actually treating them like adults capable of making their own decisions about their lives. Does Robin love them? Yes. Did he royally fuck up? Also yeah.

It's fascinating to watch how the level of honesty they have with each other varies depending on who's present (Letty) and then what they're talking about. So much can go unsaid, and STILL there's things Robin doesn't *understand*. He doesn't understand that Ramy would have gone with Hermes not because of his impulsiveness and pride but because Ramy has never once in his life cared for or given a fuck about the "safety" and "comforts" that white people can offer him. Ramy hates white people, which is largely why he can't stand Letty (this is in turn largely aided by Letty's a) personality and b) family history). He understands his role in colonial Britain because he's been dealing with it and witnessing it since he was a child, and he grew up in an explicitly colonized area, and he had a family to teach him the necessary lessons of survival and pride. Things Robin entirely lacked. From what it looks like to me, Robin didn't even know he was mixed til he got to England?

I wonder if they were doomed to head down this path from the start. In another post I'd speculated about whether the ways they'd hurt each other would be specific to their personalities and interactions, as in if Letty's racism would come to a head and destroy what little patience Ramy has left for her. I don't have a neat conclusion to this, I'm just thinking.

[melrosing]

Did you finish babel? I liked some parts of it but the characterization was quite thin, especially for ramy and victoire. It also had a very interesting magic system which did not seem to affect the world in the slightest which i found baffling.

yeahhhh I finished it a couple days ago and I’m just. glad it’s over. idk further thoughts under the cut bc spoilers

so I just thought it was one of the least subtle things I’ve ever read, which I think some people may feel is unfair because the British Empire was not a subtle evil. but I’ve seen people conflate ‘subtlety’ with ‘understatement’, and I don’t think the two are synonymous.

what I think subtlety could look like in Robin’s case is maybe, for example, Professor Lovell having two sides: one where he seems kind and encouraging to Robin, and then another kind of barely concealed disgust for his son, that is more his true self. this would make Robin’s conflict over the side he truly belongs to a more interesting one in the context of the story, as he wrestles with his father’s true character, and the fact that he is using him as an instrument in the perpetuation of empire.

the conflict robin ACTUALLY experiences in the story is like he’s already come to the table more or less clear on what the two sides on Empire represent but he doesn’t want to put he and his friends in danger so he puts off joining the revolution etc. that’s not a very interesting conflict to read, because the work it takes to get Robin to this level of awareness is never truly demonstrated. Ramy and Victoire are exercising levels of discourse about colonialism and racism that are just bizarre to read in a novel supposedly set in 1836. they honestly read like students in the 21st century?? like I think it’s likely that as intelligent characters, Ramy and Victoire would be internally articulating their experiences to themselves, but they constantly talk like they’re aware of a broader dialogue with plenty of academic literature behind it etc.

and idk I think kuang just doesn’t seem to want to do the work of taking her characters from a place of relative ignorance and think about the things that would radicalise them, and the things, on the other hand, that might make them look the other way. like Robin seems to have no strong memories of Canton, no people he seems to really remember outside of his home. how does that affect the sides he chooses? or was this really just something Kuang forgot to mention lol

so I just felt like the whole novel is set up with that conclusion reached already - it’s not interesting to watch the characters nod for hundreds of pages that colonialism is bad, and never really see how they reached this conclusion in…. England 1836. it makes it even more frustrating when they keep talking down to Letty like she should know better. HOW???

and also I just rolled my eyes w the Letty twist bc it was so obvious it was going to happen. and even more when Kuang then writes this tragic backstory for Letty that seems to say, ‘see, I did write her as a complicated character’. sorry but this all comes too late! it’s no good presenting Letty’s supposed complexities when you’re so far past the point of reckoning with them. it doesn’t change her from what she functionally was, which was a straw man for the protagonists to argue their points against. saying ‘she was a victim of misogyny’ when you’ve avoided addressing that experience on any level (like Robin even thinks to himself it wouldn’t be very feminist to call Letty hysterical but does it anyway, so apparently these characters also have full awareness of the women’s suffrage movement but never engage with it and what it means for Letty’s experiences).

like idk I’m really not saying that Letty shouldn’t have been written as racist and a colonialist apologist - she lives in a society and it makes sense to have a character in the group who chafes with their ideas, one from the other side. but you can write her as a character too, and not just a straw man. and if you want to turn around at the end and say ‘see she’s still sympathetic on some level!’ you have to have actually explored the things that make Letty somewhat sympathetic on the page. all she seems to do from my POV is put her foot in it every 20 pages so the others can call her stupid and white and think how sick they all are of her lmao

and yeah I just didn’t find them well rounded characters anyway, as you say… like nothing any of them did surprised me, the only one who’s afforded any growth is Robin - and that all seems backwards because he seems to have already reached the conclusion that should’ve changed his outlook completely, and the others around him are just waiting for him to say so because so have they. and there’s this suggestion of romantic feelings between Robin and Ramy but I never cared about whether anything happened bc… there’s just nothing special or charged about their interactions w each other?? like we have Robin thinking he likes the way Ramy’s hair falls once and Ramy saying ‘don’t you know’ but that’s it?? ok sure

and yeah idk I think to be honest I did zone out slightly when they were explaining what the silver bars do in an early chapter so that’s a little bit on me but from there you never really do see what they… functionally do?? they support the whole world but like. ok how. and yeah, how has the fact that this society discovered magic in the era of ANCIENT ROME changed not a singular thing about today’s society!! why is literally just a few academics in one Oxford college running this whole show!! you’re telling me not even the Italians got in on this?? so functionally the silver is a mcguffin

and also finally like. I have spent a lil time around Oxford students (my friend studied there for many years and this wasn’t her but some of those I’ve met whilst visiting) and god this has some of the really grating tendencies of some of them, where they convince themselves that Oxford is the whole world, everything really comes back to Oxford, and they want their criticisms of the place to coexist w the fact that they really love the fancy champagne parties, and they want everyone to stand around and listen as they explain how they DO understand Oxford’s colonialist history no REALLY, but also have they told you about this crazy little tradition that on 16th June every year St. Tristwilliam is said to sing a single note for an hour at the tallest tower in the smallest courtyard at 4AM exactly and it’s said that all the gargoyles dance a happy jig and isn’t that magical there’s nothing like Oxford like girl PLEASE….. anyway Kuang’s like that. not Robin as the protag so much as literally Kuang in writing this

[tomjamesavery]

Twins and Trampoline Parks Written for the Ginnyversary Challenge with the prompt: #I16 — "Why had no-one ever mentioned Mum's twin?" Read on: AO3 Ginny felt like she had been trampled by a horde of wild elephants.

It was Albus’ 14th birthday and they had invited the entire next generation of the Weasley-Potter Clan. Albus had wished to go to a trampoline park for his birthday party, and so Ginny and Harry had organized a trip to London, which with twelve kids in tow, reminded Ginny of the time when Hagrid had them trying to herd Mooncalves back in Care of Magical Creatures. Especially cause Albus had brought three extra boys from his year, including Scorpius. But today she luckily had the help of her husband, who was currently consoling a crying Lily, as well as Teddy and Victoire. Molly and Roxanne had opted out of coming since they were simply too old to attend a children’s birthday party, and unlike Teddy and his girlfriend, didn’t have the same close ties to Albus. “Stay together” Ginny called out, as she watched James and Fred sprinting down the street Albus, Rose, and Hugo in close ties behind them, she only rolled her eyes and shot Teddy a grateful look as he paced after the Kids.

After what had felt like the most stressful journey of her life, the group finally arrived at the trampoline park, and Ginny felt positively ready for a nice nap.

The kids were sorted into little groups as they changed their socks into jumping ones, and Ginny felt relief, the trampoline park guides would take it from there. She plopped herself down onto a cushioned bench that let her oversee the entire indoor park, and since it was a Saturday it was pretty full. As the howling horde of children threw themselves onto the trampolines she sighed in relief, closing her eyes for a second, just as she felt a strong hand coming around her waist, the familiar scent of her husband’s cologne filling her nostrils. And it calmed her instantly, she still had her eyes closed as she simply laid her head onto his shoulder, and he pulled her towards him, as they melted into each other.

“Those lot really can be a handful.” He started, his voice soft.

“Not quite the innocent little angels we all were.” Harry teased, and Ginny only snorted in response, now opening her eyes to observe the screeching and laughing group that was wildly playing in front of them.

“I can't decide if we were worse or better.” She asked, watching as James and Fred tossed a laughing Hugo into the ball pit, sending up a shower of rainbow balls in response.

Harry giggled. “Maybe it’s better to leave that question unanswered.”

His left hand came up cupping Ginny’s cheek as he leaned in and they chastely kissed each other on the lips. But their little moment was short-lived as Ginny heard an all too familiar groan from their right.

“Mum! Dad! Can't you two stop for five minutes.” Albus' shrill voice rang out.

Ginny giggled as she and Harry disconnected, now turning towards their second-oldest son, he had Rose and Scorpius in tow, who both shot each other a grin.

“What is it Al, do you need anything,” Ginny asked, taking in the sweat-covered boy, his hair and eyes just like his father's.

Albus shook his head. “No, but you got to see this Mum. Why did no one mention you had a twin.” Ginny was confused for a second, but Albus pointed to their right where a red-haired woman was talking with a man, her hair almost the exact tone and length as Ginny’s.

Ginny couldn’t believe her eyes, the woman even seemed to be around the same height as her, similar body shape and all.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a smirking Scorpius whisper something into Albus' ear, as he nodded towards Ginny’s clone, earning him an elbow to the stomach from Albus. But Ginny was too distracted by the woman to really notice, something about seeing someone looking so much like yourself was strangely eerie. But when she felt Harry’s lips on her neck she relaxed again. “Babe she doesn’t look like one bit, you’re so much prettier, more vibrant, and her hair doesn’t have that flaming look that yours has.” He whispered

“And your butt looks miles better from that angle!” Ginny chuckled as she turned towards her husband again. “Oh, you’d know that.” She cupped his face and they came together for another kiss, this time deep and desperately, and she quickly lost herself in him. Not even noticing the familiar call out behind them. “Mum! Dad!”

[cassiaratheslytherpuff]

Word Excerpt Ask Game ✨

Bird, flight, or feather

Thank you for asking 💚

For 'bird', here's an excerpt from an old Teddy/James fic

“You sure you don’t mind me staying here?” Teddy asked, vaguely gesturing to the spare bedroom in James’ flat. “Not at all,” James reassured him. And it was true, in a sense. Because he really hadn’t minded Teddy staying with him. He just hadn’t been sure how it would work to live with the man he was painfully, secretly in love with. “You won’t feel weird bringing birds home with someone here?” Teddy laughed. It didn’t reach his eyes, but after he’d just broken up with Victoire James hadn’t expected it to. “I don’t really bring girls home,” James said, too honestly. “I – er, usually go to their place,” he lied. It was easier that way, saying he was off enjoying casual nights with random girls. It stopped people asking. Kept them from trying to set him up.

For 'flight', here's an excerpt from a Drarry fic

He’s not far out from London, but it’s far enough that he decides to activate the invisibility shield and put the car in flight mode. He’s glad now that he decided to brave the Weasleys’ shop to buy his car, instead of getting it at a Muggle dealership like he’d originally planned. If the car’s ability to fly gets the dog to a vet faster, it would definitely be worth the shame he felt going into their shop after being on the wrong side of the war.

And finally 'feather'. This is from a Prongsfoot WIP

“We can’t use the stairs,” James says, nodding to the window. “We’ll have to jump.” James decides not to linger on it for too long. He climbs into the windowsill and looks down at the drop. It’s far, especially with no broom between his legs. He pulls his wand out, grits his teeth and jumps. “Arresto Momentum,” he gasps, his body slowing to a stop inches from the ground. He turns and watches as Sirius jumps too, though he uses another spell that makes him drift like a feather all the way down. James makes a mental note to have Sirius teach him once this is all over.

Not sure what it means that not a single one of these excerpts actually has a bird, feather or anything like it.

[wolfsbanepotion]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 — got a curse i cannot lift, shines when the sunset shifts, when the moon is round and full.

[ look ] [ listen ]

calm waves lapping coolly at your ankles while you collect shards of sea glass, a rolling fog on a full moon that gives you goosebumps, treacle tart and butter beer warm against your tongue, sitting high up in the swaying boughs of a willow tree, a crinkled smile that makes your heart race, dancing late night in the living room around the neck of a bottle, watching the sunrise glint off abraxan wings, a wave taking you out at the knees, flipping you through the water and grating you cruelly across the sand.

character parallels: connell waldron (normal people), peeta mellark (the hunger games), charlie kelmeckis (the perks of being a wallflower), isaak valtersen (skam), nathan byrne (the b*stard son & the devil himself), gale dekarios (bg3), malyen oretsev (shadow and bone), kristoff bjorgman (frozen), steve harrington (stranger things), alphonse elric (fma:b), elio perlman (call me by your name)

Full Name: Louis Alphons Weasley Gender/Pronouns: Cis man | he/him Age: Twenty-three Birthdate: May 18th Parents: Bill Weasley & Fleur Weasley (née Delacour) Siblings: Victoire Weasley, Dominique Weasley. Birth place: Shell Cottage, Tinworth, Cornwall. Height: 6"1 Species: 1/8th Veela Wizard [Afflicted with Lycanthropy] Nationality: British Affiliation: Order of the Phoenix. Body Alterations/Marks: Most of the left side of Louis' body is riddled with tearing scars, hip to mid-shoulder blade. A tattoo of the order symbol, the initials of others who fell fighting alongside him, this is pretty large by now and dominates the inside of his left bicep.

Personality Traits: - unassertive, impressionable, reclusive, pessimistic, sensitive, jaded + contemplative, solicitous, cordial, charming, dutiful, pragmatic, jocular

Blood Status: Pureblood Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff Wand Arm: Right Pet: Pet Crup. Patronus: Granian Winged Horse Wand: 13 1/8 inches, Chestnut, Reasonably Supple, Phoenix feather core.

what a waste, army dreamers.

a good soldier boy, he had a head for tactics and a body to lay down for the war. so he went.

compared to many, louis knows he had luck on his side with the way they grew up. he had his siblings, both his parents, they even managed to hold onto shell cottage for most of it.

felt deep pressure to be popular and well-liked, he found it easy to amass friends but he was nauseated by stress whenever he was teased too heavily or accurately. his entire world spinning, unable to speak, to breathe until he fled. 

as a child it was simply his nature spurring him to use his veela charm to try to sow hope and camaraderie in a room, as his time on the front lines grew he started to actively hone it to stop morale from tanking after bad losses. he had a habit of making people rally with one of his freckled hands on their shoulder.

always found it difficult not to be liked so the harsh reality of war made everything seem very overwhelming. he tried to remain unperturbed and threw himself into the pragmatics of the infantry. known for charging back inside or through battlefields plucking order members off the floor and physically carrying them to healer triage. a skilled fighter, best with magics that lend to altering the mind/illusions etc.

lives in a tent nomadically accompanying a wild abraxan herd since the attack, also collects dragon census data to ensure no native species are under current threat from the enemy. collects wild herbology samples and makes sure the habitats are healthy. he is an excellent watercolourist, paints landscapes as well as fauna and flora. occasionally sketches visitors.

accomplished quidditch chaser. plays the piano.

before he turned he was obsessed with taking polaroids with his film camera, he has about 900 total that he still keeps catalogued but he looks a them far less than he used to. they cut with a keener edge now. anyone close to louis would have been given some of these.

has a crup named chipie or 'chip', who has three legs and just sort of trots along behind louis most places. very well behaved... most of the time.

two-three years ago during a battle, louis was dragged off as a trophy to be bitten by a werewolf, if this could have happened in front of other order members i'm sure the de would have made it so. keeping parts of what happened that night fluid enough that some parts are almost [wanted connections]

reticent and world-weary nowadays, he has lost some of the naive precocious, almost bolshy nature he retained beforehand. never kisses and tells but still often charms his way into beds at safehouses if he has no known enemies in residence.

something changed in him after the attack, after he survived. those who had known him watched him draw back behind an impenetrable shield overnight. the realisation that he was dangerous now, fundamentally changed.

it is interesting, as the veela magic and the werewolf curse interact the charm still perpetuates but only one person so far and those who are very sensitive will feel a threatening predatory undertone to the enticing that was never there before.

a recovering people-pleaser who finds it incredibly difficult to lay out boundaries or know how he feels about anything in the moment. trying his best.

CONNECTION IDEAS

Experimenting on his werewolf form to provide better weapons against the other side's lycanthropes. Yes, this is fucked up, yes I need it.

Honey don't feed it, (he will come back) who is letting him darken their doorway? And why do they know better babe? 

A rivalry (maybe originated in quidditch) hate? Or do they have mad chemistry? Did they used to be friends? (maybe i'm thinking about challengers MB)

Someone who used to be Lou's friend or at least neutral on him who is now terrified of him due to their own past dark experiences with werewolves.  

Magizoologist? You might rarely spot this ginger motherfucker striding quietly up and down hillsides with his quill taking notes beside him. 

Someone who he was hooking up with/closer with who he ghosted after he got mauled and came to terms with his new affliction.

there's a curse comes with a kiss, the bite that binds the gift that gives.

[moonyfr]

Seasons -883 words

Remus sat and watched Prongs and Padfoot play fight on the grass of the meadow. Wormtail had played with them for a while but decided it was an unfair fight, what with him being a tiny rat and the other two being a massive stag and a larger dog, so now he sat on Remus’ shoulder instead, watching with him. It was warm out, the summer sun shining bright in the sky at the four bodies, and Remus couldn’t help but wish there was some sort of shade here. It was almost a week after they all had graduated Hogwarts and they wanted to get some pure fun before starting to really live out their lives, and while out on their search for something interesting they’d found a nice closed up meadow in a secluded area not too far away from London, and James and Sirius had decided this was the perfect place to hang out before starting their adult lives.

Remus threw the stick over the meadow and watched with a fond smile as Padfoot chased after it. It wasn’t really as fun as it could have been, if they didn’t have the war hanging over their shoulders, but they both needed a break from all of that, especially Sirius, who had been worried sick ever since James and Lily had to go into hiding. Remus had remembered the meadow they’d been to a few summers ago and suggested they go there, which Sirius had eventually agreed to. It was nice. Getting a break from all the stress and just getting a minute to breathe. The cold autumn air turned Remus’ cheeks red, but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. He just wanted to get to enjoy this moment of peace in this beautiful meadow with the man he loved.

Remus stared with empty eyes out over the white meadow in front of him, regretting ever leaving his flat at all. It had been a bit over a year since James and Lilys deaths, and it was his second winter in his adult life where he didn’t have anyone to spend it with. It didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right. Sirius was supposed to be here, play fighting with James and making stupid jokes. James was supposed to be here, lighting up the sombre mood with his never-ending enthusiasm. Peter was supposed to be here, complaining about the cold and how they should just go inside and play chess instead. But they weren’t. James and Peter were dead, and Sirius had betrayed them. Sirius, who had played with Remus on this exact meadow. Sirius who had promised to never betray him again. Remus could feel his knees buckle at the thought of the man who he had loved, he still loved, despite everything, and he broke down crying. Sobbing in the middle of the cold meadow.

Teddy Lupin sat with his back to the apple tree in the middle of the meadow, sitting in the trees shadow to avoid the scorching sun. He’d found the place a while back, he and Victoire had been looking for a place to hang out now that their years at Hogwarts were over, and they’d stumbled across the meadow. It was one of Teddy’s favourite places, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. His favourite part was the tree. It was obvious that it had been planted, since it was the only apple tree around, and he couldn’t help but wonder why they had planted it just there. Wonder what this place had meant to whoever did it. He didn’t know, and he’d likely never know, it was a mystery, like most things about his dad. Teddy was used to mysteries at this point, was used to the feeling of not understanding something, or someone for that matter. Which is probably why he didn’t question why the apple tree in the middle of the hidden away meadow made him feel like home.

Remus stood in the middle of the blooming meadow with a shovel in his hand. Sirius hadn’t betrayed him, but that didn’t matter anymore. Sirius was dead. He had been dead for a while now, but the sting in his heart was just as painful as it had been when he died. It was always going to be. But Remus knew that he might die soon too, the war was growing bigger by the second and whilst Remus knew he’d do anything to fight for what was right, he couldn’t know if he’d survive. Part of him didn’t want to. Part of him wanted to die the same way his friends and lover had, so that he could join them wherever they were. He was almost certain he would. It was the only thing that made sense. But he wanted to leave something behind. Sure, there was the map, but that thing was sure to stop working once he died. And this meadow had meant something to him, to all marauders, so he wanted to leave something here too. He began digging and planted the seed of an apple tree in the ground, hoping for it to bloom with spring and grow bigger with the years. Hoping someone else would find this meadow and enjoy the shade the tree would provide.

.

[fangssss2006]

Okay guys buckle up it's Fangs yap time again

If you also like marauders I apologize I do have some marauders rooted head canons in here

I make mood/vision boards I use in my Tik Toks and they all have hidden head canons so finally my time to talk about them

Teddy Lupin

He definitely collects CDs and also burns and makes his own CDs. He also collects those pin buttons especially the space and NASA ones. He loves gummies, it got to the point everyone has a bag on hand if they know he's coming because they'll just end up at the store anyway if they don't have some. He plays guitar and he'll sometimes burn CDs and make some with his own music. He occasionally gives these to his friends and loved ones. I also think people tell him a lot that he looks like his mom and has her soul and has his dad's heart.

Victoire Weasley

Loves those healthy breakfasts like oatmeal and smooth bowls and always reads a book while eating or she's outside or looking out the window just enjoying nature. LOVE taking pictures she always has a camera on her and has memory cards full of her and teddy. Has a trinket box she decorated when she was like 11 and adds trinkets all the time. Loves those beaded and braided bracelets but she hasn't figured out how to completely master it so her sister makes them for her. And you see how her and teddy have flowers in their pockets? Yeah they pick flowers and put them in their pockets then they'll go back inside and make cute little crafts or add another page to a scrap book

Dominique Weasley

She has darker red hair but has blonde streaks. Loves to draw and write she has journals filled with drawings and writings it's all cluttered together but perfectly together that it's still extremely organized. Loves donuts especially the kind of ones in the picture. Has a strict skin care routine and night routine that she has to go through with doesn't matter the time as long as she does it before bed. She loves Paris she prefers it over any other place. When they visit she lives in the moment every second. She has a big fluffy white dog she takes every where don't ask why but she definitely does. She's definitely the "cold" sibling and has some depression (self projecting 🤞)

Louis Weasley

He definitely prefers to read in French and always picks up at least 5 books every time they visit Paris. Loves fruit he can eat it all day everyday and loves coconut water? Idk man that's just what I'm getting. Wears a lot of rings strictly only silver. He also prefers Paris over anywhere else. He's definitely closer to Dominique they're always together especially after vic started hanging out with Teddy more (it's ok tho they love him and understand). He absolutely loves Dominique's dog, basically just both of their baby

James Sirius Potter

Bro falls asleep constantly, if he's sitting down and starts reading or is being read to he's just out like a baby. He LOVES vinyl and is constantly trying to find his favs on it. He definitely started loving it after Harry decided to give him some of Sirius' old ones and some of his dad's he found. He doesn't play guitar but he collects guitar picks because he thinks they're cool. It started after teddy would give him his old ones after he would get new ones. Obviously he plays quidditch and he loves it. As much as he loves playing it I think he enjoys it more watching it and cheering. He definitely has a golden retriever that he's had since he was like 12. Just like Harry gets people saying how much he looks like his dad James gets the same thing but it's always oh you look just like Harry...and he looks like his oh my you're just like them both and he doesn't get sad about it he smiles big every time and says thank you they're the best guys I've known and heard of

Albus Severus Potter

(side note I saw someone head canon a name change of Cedric Remus potter. Idk how I feel about it but maybe some one would like it)

He has a pocket watch that belonged to regulus all though Harry thought it was Sirius' because he would carry it around all the time. He loves sketching out mythical creatures and plants, also putting samples of leaves or fur or scales if he has any, and basically making his own magic guide books. He would wear headphones a lot or have them on his neck if they had them. He collects a shit ton of crystals and pretty much any little witch trinket from muggle spiritual shops (can't remember the name rn even though I literally go to them all the time) has Altoids tins or something adjacent and puts things he might use for spells be might find useful and keeps them in his bag or Pocket. Has a black cat that he got from the shelter when James got his dog, he originally didn't want one he just was excited about a dog being in the house but he saw the cat and she was the runt and stayed away from the rest and he just felt something about her so he asked and ofc they got her

Lily Luna Potter

She loves fairy tales and loves the older style books because they're GORGEOUS so ginny always gets one when she finds them thrifting. When ginny gets new makeup or doesn't feel like something she got fits her she'll give it to Lily to use for fun because Lily likes to paint with them or just color things but she'll keep the red pallets to practice with. Her and Harry will pick little flowers on the side of the sidewalk on walks then go home and dry them in books and Lily tacs them on the walls of her room and Harry has some all over him and Ginny's room. Lily has colorful succulents everywhere and always comes home with some because professor Long bottom always gives her herbology plants. She definitely has that dog i saw her and was omg your definitely lily's. They just fit each other's vibe so well, I think she got her for Christmas one year. She also looks scarily like Lily when she was her age and people say it all the time and Lily also doesn't mind because she thinks Lily was absolutely pretty

Scorpius Malfoy

He definitely reads fantasy books like LOTR religiously. I like to believe teddy sometimes visits with them because they're family and it was dracos idea. So one year teddy gave him a ds and he was OBSESSED. He definitely makes those decorative tube jars with flowers and bugs that are naturally preserved and has them around his room. This also isn't on the board but I think his ceiling has constellations on it and it has Sirius, regulus, draco, and Scorpius up there so in away he had family there. He definitely got the tin idea from Albus but instead put things he loves in there and puts it in his pocket or bag. There's no way he doesn't like those little calico critters he definitely has some. He also got a golden retriever puppy after the whole time travel stuff

Delphi Riddle

(side note don't come after me for adding her this happened on tik tok I think she's a very interesting character and like to look into that. I'm not saying I like her I just like interesting characters.)

Gets nose bleeds a lot especially when she's reading while she's stressed so she has a lot of stains in her books. Prefers to just light candles instead of turning on a lamp It's easier on her eyes because she's constantly getting headaches and she likes to be extra and edgy. Has a pet snake or two I feel like that's a given. She collects snake skin and preserves snakes in jars if she finds them so they can still live in memory. She just has a weird connection with snakes just like her father. Has her father's and mother's jewelry that she wears all the time. She's constantly trying to look in the mirror and see them because she WANTS to be them. She's not worried about being them that's her greatest wish

I will have to do another part because I can't fit all the Weasleys on here but I'll work on more boards because I haven't gotten to anyone else but who's on here and the Weasleys yet but hopefully you enjoy my yap session. If you couldn't tell I'm extremely ill and autistic about the wizarding world (BUT FUCK JKR)

Chat I keep thinking about Harry Potter next Gen and I just want that fandom to be as good as the marauders please can we build it 😭🙏🙏🙏

I WILL start building it myself I already have headcannons

[phoebe-delia]

Hi phoebe! For your Eight Drarry Nights I humbly submit the prompts gelt and/or pride! Looking forward to reading this year’s series 💕

Night 1: Melt

Happy Hanukkah everyone!! This first one is for the incredible @m0srael. Mose, thank you for this prompt, and also for just being the best. I sorta focused on the 'gelt' prompt but I did manage to sneak in the 'pride' one as well!

For those who don't know, "gelt" is technically the Hebrew word that literally means "Hanukkah money." Traditionally, children were given coins/money as gifts for Hanukkah. Nowadays, it's chocolate coins! That's what they are in this fic. Also, a "dreidel" is a little toy top that is spun and played with during Hanukkah to win gelt. Hope yall enjoy!

"Alright little one," Harry bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of Teddy's head. "Time to go."

"But Harryyyy," Teddy whined. "We were gonna play another round!" He gestured to the gelt in piles in front of himself, Rose, Hugo, and Victoire, and the large pile in the middle of their little circle. He clutched a dreidel tight in his hand.

"It's getting late, love. We've got to head home. But it's only the first night of Hanukkah! We can owl your aunts and uncles in the morning to see about a play date this week, alright?"

"Alright," Teddy said through a yawn. He dutifully set the dreidel on the carpet. After putting on his coat, he quickly bent to pick up his winnings in gelt, stuffing them in his pockets. He reached up and took Harry's hand. "Bye, everyone!"

"Bye Teddy!" The kids chorused. Rose picked up the dreidel for a new game, but Harry knew it would be a matter of time before Hermione was breaking up the game herself.

Harry and Teddy found Draco standing near the door of the Burrow, talking with Fleur in rapid french. Harry approached them with a raised eyebrow, and Draco rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek.

They said their goodnights and walked to the Apparition point. In his puffy coat, Teddy seemed perfectly content despite the freezing weather, babbling about playing dreidle with his cousins. Draco, meanwhile, huddled into Harry's side, pink-nosed and sniffling. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and ran his hands up and down Draco's arms to warm him. Harry waited for Draco to insist upon "a warming charm, or have you forgotten you're a wizard?" but he didn't; instead he melted further into Harry's embrace.

They finally reached the apparition point. Teddy and Draco held on tight to Harry while he apparated them home with a quick pop.

Inside, they went through the traditional candle-lighting ritual. Harry encouraged Teddy through the prayers, and his heart burst with pride at watching Draco use one candle to light the other on the menorah.

Putting Teddy to bed didn't take as long as Harry thought it would, considering how much gelt the boy had eaten at the Burrow. But soon enough, the child was sleeping peacefully, and Harry gave him one last fond look before leaving him be.

He walked out to the pantry and grabbed some gelt before joining Draco on the couch in the living room.

Draco set aside the book he was reading raised an eyebrow. "Is Teddy going to miss something from his stash tomorrow?"

Harry pretended to look affronted. "Are you accusing me of stealing candy from a baby?"

"Don't let him hear you call him that. He's six and a half, as you very well know, Potter. Hardly a baby."

"Well, I'll have you know I bought a stash of my own. Teddy can do as he pleases with his winnings."

Draco moved closer to Harry on the couch. "Are you planning to share with your husband?"

"Depends on his behavior."

Draco smirked. "Have I ever behaved myself when it comes to you?"

Harry grinned. "Not once. That's why I married you." Harry handed Draco a piece of gelt, which he took gratefully. Draco pressed a kiss to Harry's lips before unwrapping the sweet and popping it in his mouth.

Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder and sighed contentedly. Harry unwrapped a piece of gelt and let it melt on his tongue. He put an arm around Draco and watched the candles flicker in the air.

[totowlff]

chapter one — wasting precious time

➝ after a completely disastrous date, cassie makes a decision that will change her life

➝ word count: 5,1k

➝ warnings: swearing

➝ notes: this project is something I've been developing with @formationlaps​ and it's one of the things I've been most excited about in recent days. a warning, just for context: the story takes place in 2017, and the chapters do not have a regular time gap between them, as in star-crossed. we hope you like it as much as we do!

It was a very dull Friday afternoon, and Cassie was trying to finish up work for the day, not that there was very much going on. She had a slide deck to finish up, and some copy from one of her coworkers to proof, but none of it was urgent. She played with her necklace — a small silver charm with an engraving on it — as her mind wandered, trying to imagine what her plans were for the weekend without a race to watch. 

She worked in marketing for a motorsport racing team. Not just any racing team, the three-time double world champion Mercedes AMG Formula 1 team. She was going on her 7th year with the team. She started with the team as a marketing intern right after she finished her degree at Cambridge, soon after the Brawn GP team was purchased by Daimler and became Mercedes GP. 

Cassie remembered her parents being horrified, not only at the fact that she’d joined the management course at Cambridge instead of just doing the Classics course like was when she’d started university, but at her getting an internship, and even worse, a job.

She was living the kind of life her parents dreaded her living; she was 35 years old, single, and had no children. But, she had built a life she’d liked, which was the only thing that mattered to her. She had a great job that she loved, an adorable flat in Oxfordshire, a good group of friends, and an active social life. She traveled quite a bit, too. She didn’t have much of a relationship with her family anymore, aside from an aunt, and her younger sister. She went on occasional dates, but hadn’t found the man she wanted to be with forever. She’d broken up with her last serious boyfriend going on three years ago.

Cassie was distracted by her phone vibrating on her desk. She flipped it over to check her notifications, and saw that she had one from Tinder. She hated dating apps, but that seemed to be the way to meet people nowadays. Once in a while, though, prospects were promising. She was most recently talking to a man named Peter. He was a few years older than her, but he was kind and funny, and they seemed to have a lot in common. They’d been messaging each other regularly for the past week, and their conversations had gotten surprisingly deep for a dating app. Cassie had really taken a liking to him already, and looked forward to seeing his messages. They hadn’t met up yet, but the message he’d just sent was him asking her if she wanted to meet for dinner the next night.

“I made a reservation at Pierre Victoire”, he wrote. “For 6pm, tomorrow night, so I hope you like French food.” 

“I love it,” she wrote to him. Truth be told, she had no strong feeling about it either way, but she liked this guy, and really wanted their date to go well. Despite what she’d thought about her parents’ prescribed plan for her life, she had been thinking lately that finding someone to settle down with would be nice, and so would starting a family of her own. As long as her potential partner respected her independence, and the fact that she liked her job. She was never going to be a stay-at-home mother; she liked her job too much for that, and had worked very hard to get as far as she had.

Peter seemed to fit those requirements.

The next day, Cassie spent the morning lounging around her apartment, answering a few emails and tidying up a bit, washing the dishes from the night before and putting the clothes she had used during the week in the wash. She exchanged a few messages with Peter, who said he was looking forward to their meeting later. Cassie couldn't deny that she was starting to feel butterflies in her stomach.

During the afternoon, she devoted herself to preparing for her date. She drew herself a bath spending a while relaxing in the warm water mixed with the lavender bath salts she loved. After her bath, she put on some makeup and styled her hair, pulling it back into a relaxed ponytail.

The hardest part, in Cassie's view, was choosing an outfit. She had to pick something that didn’t clash with her bright red hair, and something appropriate for the restaurant. The bistro they were going to wasn't luxurious enough to require formal wear, but at the same time, she thought she should wear something nice, different from her usual work clothes, or the t-shirts and ratty jeans she liked to wear that her mother had always abhorred.

In the face of such doubts, there was only one person she could count on.

She picked up her phone from her  bed and tapped the screen a few times until she found the name she was looking for. It didn't take long for the face of Helena, her sister, to appear on the screen.

— What's up, Cassie? — Helena said — Everything ready for your date?

She smiled at her sister.

— Not really. I’m actually calling you to talk about what I'm going to wear.

— Are you asking for an opinion? That’s unexpected. Usually you do whatever you feel like doing. Hang on  — Helena said. She turned her face to the side and said something to someone off-camera. It was probably Jack, her husband.

— It's just… The restaurant is casual, but not too casual, you know?

Helena scratched her chin.

— Perhaps you could wear a dress?

— In this cold?

— That’s what tights are for, Cassie — she laughed, before saying something to her son, Icarus, who looked like he was trying to grab at something he shouldn't.

After they discussed a few options, she decided to wear a moss green knit dress, paired with thick black tights and tall black leather boots. It would go well with her black scarf and the black peacoat she had. Helena wished her luck and ended the call, to let Cassie finish getting ready.

The restaurant was fairly close to Cassie’s flat, so she didn't have to leave long in advance. After driving around a bit looking for a place to park her car, a silver Mercedes-Benz CLA 250 leased on the company’s generous leasing scheme, she managed to get a space in front of the Royal Air Force office in Oxford, walking the rest of the way to the restaurant by foot. It wasn’t far, but she was grateful that she’d opted not to wear heels.

As soon as she entered the establishment, she found Peter sitting at one of the tables against the wall, just below a painting of a pastry chef, scrolling through something on his cell phone. Walking over to where he stood, Cassie felt butterflies in her stomach.

— Peter?

The man stood up, smiling.

— Good evening, Cassie. It’s very nice to finally meet you in person.

She sat in the chair across from him, slinging her purse over the back of the chair.

— You look very beautiful. More beautiful than in the pictures.

— Thanks. You also look very nice.

They chatted for a while before a waiter approached them and asked if he could start the service.

— Yes, no problem — Peter replied — Oh, and the wine, as well.

The man nodded and walked away from the table, causing Cassie to raise an eyebrow.

— He's not going to bring out the menu so we can order?

— No, no, I've already done that.

Cassie blinked.

— You already ordered for us? — she asked, skeptically.

— Yes, I already placed our orders, just to make things a bit easier. You don’t mind, right? After all, I'm the one paying.

She felt her heart sink inside her chest.

— No, no, I don’t mind. I just wanted to know what they really served. I trust you. After all, not many people don't like pineapple on their pizza around here — Cassie replied, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I shouldn't have trusted him”, she thought, as the waiter brought the two plates of escargot and placed them on the table.

She hated escargot. She hated it to the point that she threw up at a dinner party put on by her father when she was a child. The dinner was in honor of a French businessman who had visited the family's country home in Chichester to buy some racehorses from her father. Cassie was quickly sent away from the table and went to sleep without dinner that night, as punishment for causing her family such embarrassment.

Taking a deep breath, she took a sip of white wine and picked up the tongs and fork. Cassie couldn��t refuse and risk the slight to Peter, who had probably chosen the dish to offer the most French experience possible. Scooping the contents out of the animal's shell, she felt her stomach churn. “Come on, Cassie, it's not that bad. Just focus on the garlic”, she thought to herself, lifting the meat to her mouth.

The earthy flavor, mixed with butter and garlic, was the same as she remembered from that fateful family dinner. Taking two bites, she swallowed the snail practically whole, trying to push away the memories that kept coming back to her mind.

— Very tasty, isn't it? — Peter said, smiling — I love escargot.

— I do too — she lied, scooping out the contents of another shell and bringing it to her mouth. “Only five more to go”, Cassie thought to herself, trying to suppress the urge to gag or vomit.

She managed to eat the rest of them with the help of a few generous sips of wine — at least the wine was good — and almost cried with joy when the waiter took away the escargot plates. Drinking some water to cleanse the awful earthiness from her palate, Cassie was taking in the surroundings when Peter cleared his throat.

— Well, since we're here, nothing better than taking the opportunity to get to know each other better. You went to university, right?

— Yes, I studied Classics and Management.

— Two very different areas.

— Yes — she laughed — My parents are pretty traditional, so they wanted me to study Classics, but during my third year, I decided to shift to management and marketing.

— Interesting. Why the change?

“I better not start talking about my parents now”, she thought.

— I just found it a little dry. A little dated, I suppose.

Peter smiled.

— And you preferred something more contemporary?

— Yes — Cassie replied with a smile — And I’m glad I did, because I ended up with a job I love.

— Where are you working?

— At the Mercedes F1 factory, in Brackley. 

He picked up his wine glass, nodding without much enthusiasm.

— Interesting.

The conversation continued until the main course arrived, filets of sea bass served with sautéed chorizo, crushed new potatoes, wilted spinach and chive beurre blanc. “At least it looks appetizing”, she thought, taking a bite of fish. After a few seconds of silence, Cassie decided to break the silence.

— And you, where do you work?

Peter looked up at her.

— I'm a solicitor. I work in an office right here in Oxford.

— That's cool — Cassie said — Did you go to uni here?

— No, I went to Queen Mary, in London. But I came here to sit for a specialization and ended up quite liking the city. I expect to be here for the rest of my life, or most of it — he replied.

— And what do you see your life looking like here in Oxford? — she asked, spearing a potato with her fork.

— Ah, I believe it would be working my way up my law firm, with my wife at home, taking care of our children.

Cassie blinked.

— Staying at home?

— Yes, but it would be something discussed with her, not imposed. It's just that, personally, I wouldn't want to see my partner working outside the home, especially in very… Masculine environments.

— Masculine environments?

— Yeah, like law firms, engineering firms, architecture firms… Formula 1 car factories.

Cassie dropped her knife and fork on the table rather loudly.

— Do you have a problem with my job? — she snapped.

Peter was staring at her, his expression slightly shocked, mouth agape 

— No, not at all, I even like Formula 1 a lot. I even think that new kid from Mercedes, as he is called… He won his first race last year, in Spain…

— Max Verstappen?

— That's right, Verstappen, I think he's a good driver, I like him a lot. I just think it's a very… Masculine environment and I wouldn't feel comfortable if my partner worked there.

— And you expect your hypothetical partner would quit her job for you?

— Well, if she loved me, I believe she would.

She couldn't help but let out a wry laugh.

— What if she wanted to stay at her job?

— Then we would have a problem, because I wouldn’t want my partner to not be at home, keeping the house, instead of traveling around the world, leaving me to take care of the children. Especially with so many men around.

— You mean you wouldn't trust your partner? Even if she loved you?

— There's no use in love, commitment is what is necessary. For me, commitment is supporting my career by being a good wife to me and a good mother to my future children.

—So, you require your partner to be committed to your dreams and wishes, but you are not committed to hers?

He didn’t answer.

Cassie took the glass in front of her and downed the rest of the wine in one gulp. Then she removed the cloth napkin from her lap and stood up, grabbing her purse from her chair.

— Where are you going? You haven't even finished your dinner…

— Honestly, Peter, if you had just told me you were a sexist asshole when we started talking, it would have saved us both a lot of time, and saved you some money — she said loudly, drawing a few looks.

— Cassie, I don't…

— Working in a male-dominated environment does not make me any less worthy than any other woman — she continued — I am very proud to work at Mercedes and proud of us being three-time double world champions. Not that you understand anything about Formula 1, do you?

— I do, I watch the Grand Prix every weekend…

— Then you would know that my team's drivers are named Lewis Hamilton and Valtteri Bottas. Max Verstappen races for Red Bull, and I’d hate it if he raced for Mercedes.

Peter's face was red, eyes scanning the room, seeing the other diners staring at them. People were starting to whisper.

— Cassie, would you sit down so we can have a civilized conversation?

—Is it really possible to have a civilized conversation with a man who thinks a woman's place is in the home, cleaning, cooking, and giving birth? — she said, raising her voice very intentionally — A man who doesn't care about the opinion of the woman he has dinner with?

— I didn't say that, Cassie.

— You didn’t have to say it! You simply decided what we were going to eat instead of asking my opinion!

— I decided on our menu because I know French cuisine and you don't...

She gave a sardonic laugh.

— How do you know I don't?

— Well, I assumed…

— I grew up holidaying in France! I've had more croissants in a year than you’ve probably had chip shop platters in your entire life!

Peter was staring at her with a shocked expression.

— Cassie, please…

— What? — she screamed.

— Let's talk in a more private place, more calmly…

Cassie knew that tactic. Her ex-boyfriend used to use it on her all the time. He would suggest that they go talk privately, so he could isolate her and talk down to her, making her seem like she was the unreasonable one.

“Not today”, she thought.

— You know what? Go fuck yourself, Peter.

She practically stomped out of the restaurant, slamming the front door quite abruptly. She didn’t even stop to put on her jacket, carrying it under her arm. Outside, the cold wind was buffeting against her, but Cassie couldn't care less. The irritation coursing through her body was enough to keep her warm. She arrived at her car, got into the vehicle, and took a deep breath.

Then she punched the steering wheel three times, getting all her anger out.

— Asshole, asshole, asshole! — she repeated, anger permeating her voice.

After a few more punches to the steering wheel and a few minutes of deep breathing, she felt better. She drove back to her apartment in absolute silence, not even bothering to turn the radio on.

Cassie arrived back at her apartment, peeling off her boots by the front door and kicking them off with little care as to where they landed. She dropped her purse on her coffee table. Before she sat down on the couch, she went to the fridge, spotting what she was looking for right away — an unopened bottle of sauvignon blanc she’d bought on her last shopping trip. She took a wine glass — an actual white wine glass, because she had separate glasses for reds and whites — out of her pantry and poured it with a fairly heavy hand. The glass was far fuller than would be proper, but she wasn’t sure she cared.

“Ah, fuck it”, she thought, pouring it almost to the top.

She didn’t drink regularly, even as a means of relaxing, but after such a horrific date with someone that she had such high hopes for, who turned out to be the latest contestant in the competition for Oxford’s Worst Man, she figured she deserved it. She pulled a large packet of crisps from her pantry and plopped down on the couch, taking care not to spill her wine. 

Cassie had intended to watch a film until she went to sleep — perhaps Love, Actually, never mind that it was a holiday film and Christmas had been two weeks ago, or Amélie, which she first watched in Year 11 with a French girl at school, but instead, she’d picked up her phone and started scrolling through Instagram. Despite working in marketing, she didn’t like posting much, but she did like to lurk and look at other people’s posts. She followed people she knew in person, of course — friends, some coworkers, people from other Formula 1 teams, and even complete strangers. 

She took a healthy gulp of wine and started scrolling as she munched on the crisps. Sauvignon blanc and Walker’s Cheese and Onion crisps probably were a pairing that would make her parents and their friends faint, but she didn’t care. She’d seen news reports about birth rates around the world falling to record lows, but Cassie would’ve never guessed that was the case, looking at her Instagram feed. It seemed like it was an endless stream of adorably-staged pregnancy announcements with sonogram pictures and tiny pairs of shoes, pictures of small children with birthday cake smeared over their faces, pictures of children meeting Santa.

Cassie never managed to watch anything that night — instead, two glasses of wine down, she was still scrolling through Instagram, with tears streaming down her face. 

She was never sure she wanted children. For a long time she didn’t, because her parents had expected her to start having them after finishing university and finding a suitable man to marry. By the time she finished university, at the institution they’d selected for her, because several generations of her family had attended, she wanted nothing to do with marriage or children. She’d studied management in her third year, which her parents did not approve of, and found that she’d had quite the talent for marketing. She took on an internship, ending up at a company where, for the first time in her life, nobody knew who her parents were, nor did they care. It was refreshing. The job was very interesting, and she was good at it, so when she was offered a permanent position after her internship ended, she jumped at the chance. She’d been at Mercedes ever since.

“Did I actually not want children, or did I just not want to give my parents what they wanted?”, Cassie thought, slugging back the last of her wine. She wiped the tears off of her cheeks and closed Instagram. It was only making her feel worse.

She looked at her clock, and realized that it was almost midnight — time to go to bed, anyway. She lumbered around her apartment, unsteady on her feet while going through her nighttime routine — brushing her teeth, washing her face… Drinking a tall glass of water and some paracetamol, as she knew she would certainly have wine-related regrets in the morning. 

She changed into her pajamas and laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling and letting her thoughts unspool in the darkness.

For a while now, she’d felt like there was a big gap in her life. Until now, it wasn’t obvious what. It was just something whispering in the back of her mind, lurking on the periphery. She had plenty of friends, she was able to travel — she’d actually recently gotten back from a holiday to the Swiss Alps, where she’d spent Christmas and New Years’ with some friends — but maybe coming back to her dark, empty flat every night after work was starting to wear on her. She didn’t really need, or want, a partner, especially if most of the available dating pool turned out to be like Peter, but her mind was starting to change on wanting children.

And she could handle raising a child, even alone. She had a well-paying, stable career, the benefits were generous, Mercedes offered maternity leave and some sort of childcare stipend scheme. And medical science being what it was, she didn’t even need a partner. She’d seen a documentary about the in-vitro fertilization process — it didn’t seem pleasant or easy, but it could work. She’d have some eggs collected, fertilized with donor sperm, they’d put the egg back in, and boom — nine months later, she’d have a baby! She could even pick the father out of a catalog, which certainly sounded better than finding one on a dating app, considering the one that came from the catalog wouldn’t be around to make her feel worthless and miserable, like Peter likely would have, and like Callum did. 

Callum was the last serious boyfriend she had. They’d broken up three years ago. He was very handsome, with striking blue eyes and straw-colored hair. He was intelligent and kind, and he made her laugh. He was a fantastic cook, and had incredibly soft hands. She’d known him from university, and their paths happened to cross again when he took a job as a laboratory researcher and instructor at Oxford University. He was an astronomer, and did things with telescopes, lots of maths, and old computer systems that Cassie didn’t really understand, but they bonded one night when he snuck her into an observatory at Cambridge. He turned on the planetarium so they could “stargaze”, looking at stars and constellations. She told him the stories of the figures from Greek and Roman myths they were named for. They shared their first kiss under the fake starry sky that night, but ended up losing touch after graduation. He got a job at Oxford University, and, knowing she lived and worked in the area, looked her up. They reconnected and ended up dating for a long time, and were to the point of discussing engagement and marriage. She had even given him a key to her flat, and he would stay over frequently. He gradually started becoming controlling, interrogating her about all of her comings and goings, telling her that she had to stop talking to certain friends, questioning her about anyone she interacted with. 

Meanwhile, he would be out until all hours of the night, even when he wasn’t in the lab, without so much as a phone call to tell Cassie he’d be out, so she would worry about him. He was spending time with “the boys” — so he said. When she confronted him, Callum made her believe she was being selfish and trying to control him, while also calling her a bunch of very nasty things. They began to have fights regularly, until one day, she broke down and cried at work when he’d called her in the middle of the day to scream at her over some WhatsApp messages he’d found on her laptop. He’d come to her flat while she wasn’t there, for God knows what reason, and had guessed the password to her computer. She’d been talking to a friend of hers about what to do about him, and she encouraged him to break it off with him. 

She tried to remain calm, lest she look unprofessional, as her desk was in the middle of a floor filled with other cubicles, so she ran to find an empty conference room for some privacy. Callum screamed at her, she screamed back. Her emotions got the better of her and she started sobbing. Cassie realized that Callum was trying to control her, just like her parents had when she was younger. She yelled at him to get out of her flat or she’d call the police, and then hung up. She continued to cry, until she heard the door to the conference room opening behind her. She whipped around to see, to her horror, Toto Wolff, the CEO and owner of the company, walking through the door.

— Toto! I… Uh — Cassie stammered, trying desperately to scrub the tears from her eyes.

— I’m sorry, I thought this room was… Oh, no… Are… Are you okay? — he said, concern filling his brown eyes. 

— Sorry, I… I just had something personal come up and wanted some privacy, I’ll go back to my desk now — Cassie said, hurrying to get up from the chair she was sitting in.

— No, I’m sorry, Cassandra, take all the time in here that you need, I can find another conference room. Unless… Is it something I might be able to help with? This might be too forward of me, but, you know I’m happy to talk to anybody here who needs someone to talk to, whether it’s a work-related matter or not.

Cassie sighed as she walked to the door, stopping in front of Toto. 

He’d started on as team principal and CEO a year after she’d been hired on permanently. Cassie didn’t interact with him one-on-one on a regular basis, usually only in marketing meetings with the rest of her team. She was not one of the people that regularly traveled to the actual Grands Prix. Her direct boss, Victoria, did, and she and the other people that did always spoke very highly of him. 

Her interactions with him had always been positive — he was always very friendly. The company had changed dramatically after Toto, and his business partner, Niki Lauda, took over for Ross Brawn, and for the better, in Cassie’s opinion. Plus, he was, also in Cassie’s opinion — and the opinion of pretty much everyone else in the company — rather easy on the eyes. 

He was tall and lean, but had some muscle, especially on his arms and shoulders. He had a handsome face with a strong jawline and a very distinctive nose. He had dark brown eyes that always looked warm and kind, and thick brown hair that he was constantly running his hands through, especially when he talked to reporters. He had a voice that was deep, but gentle at the same time. He had an excellent sense of humor. He was from Austria, and had an accent that Cassie always thought was charming, especially when he couldn’t remember a word in English and had to try and explain it in German. It was well-known that he was single and didn’t have any children, but nobody in the office could figure out why.   

— No… It’s silly. Just… Relationship stuff — Cassie said, averting her gaze to the gray carpeting on the conference room floor. 

— Hmm… It doesn't seem like it’s something silly if it’s making you so upset — he turned back toward the door, holding it open for her — Come with me. We’ll go downstairs and we can talk about it over some coffee… If you want to. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, but you certainly look like you could use a break, in any case.

Cassie looked at him skeptically.

— You don’t have a meeting, or something? Isn’t that what you were looking for an empty conference room for?

— Well — he said, a mischievous look coming over his face — Not exactly. I thought I heard someone crying as I was coming down the hallway, but wanted to give myself… What do you call it… Plausible deniability?

Cassie laughed, and walked out of the room behind him.

They sat in the small coffee bar in the employee canteen for a while. It was the first one-on-one conversation she’d remembered having with him, at least for an extended period of time. She was a little nervous about it at first, but found herself becoming more and more comfortable in Toto’s presence, to the point of eventually telling him about her relationship woes. Hearing about Callum’s behavior horrified him. 

— I know I am not what you would call a relationship expert, but I think you definitely need to end it with him. Change the locks to your flat, block his number, everything. And please, take a day off if you need to get it all sorted out — he said. He also mentioned some resources that the HR department kept on file that could help if things escalated.

Luckily, things did not escalate, and she broke things off with Callum that night. She did take Toto’s offer of a day off to sort things out, including changing the locks. One positive thing did come of it, though — even though Toto was technically her boss’ boss, he’d become something of a friend to Cassie, always making it a point to say hello and chat with her whenever he was onsite at the company’s Brackley headquarters. They started getting coffee regularly, too. Thankfully, she never had to talk about anything so dire as Callum again.

— Stupid Callum — she said, to no one in particular. The walls of her flat had no response for her. 

“Great, now I’m talking to myself”, she thought. “Maybe I should just get a cat instead. It would certainly be easier”.

She rolled over and set her alarm on her phone for the next morning — 11am. It was Sunday, and she felt like she’d need a bit of a lie-in, especially after having so much wine. 

Just before she fell asleep, Cassie opened the Notes app on her phone and made herself a reminder.

“Look into the IVF process/doctors in Oxford”.

[curse-04]

Written for @hinnyfest

Prompt 10: "I am so lucky to be able to live this life with you."

P.S: If there are any spelling errors, I apologize in advance.

-------

Ginny couldn't help but smile as she watched Harry in his Wolf form as he ran around their backyard with 7 year old Teddy and 6 year old Victoire trying their hardest to catch him. Sometimes she thought that he wanted to become an Animagus with her just so that the kids could enjoy it. 

He really was obnoxiously fast, but he was slowing down to avoid getting the kids hurt. Sure enough, Victoire managed to catch up to him, and pulled on his tail.

Harry spun around and yelped, quickly turning back into a Human, much to the amusement of her and the kids. "You don't pull on tails, Vic," he lightly chastised her without any heat in his words.

"But I want one," she said with an adorable pout. "A blue one though."

"Me too!" Teddy piped up. "I'll take one like yours, Harry,"

Ginny smiled, she knew that Harry couldn't resist the children's wishes. Pout or no pout. He sighed. "I would give you a tail, but Bill would string me up so high, I wouldn't ever be able to come down again." 

"How high?" Vic asked worriedly.

"You know how high your Aunt Ginny flies?" He asked as Ginny heard the Floo go off. 

She made her way there, and saw that Bill had come through. She greeted him with a hug. "Your little princess is out back," she teased.

"Thanks," Bill said, rolling his eyes fondly as they both made their way out. 

Harry was lying on his back with the kids on either side of him. He was waving his Wand, making Dragons made of red, blue, and golden colored smoke fly around in the air. She placed a hand on her stomach, even more excited to tell him the news.

Thankfully, Bill seemed to miss the gesture, completely engrossed as he was with the scene in front of him. They waited until Harry had to cancel the Spell to reserve his energy.

Vic and Teddy started clapping and Ginny and Bill joined in, causing them all to turn towards the porch where she and Bill were. "Daddy!" Vic squealed as she ran towards him. 

Bill didn't hesitate to pick her up and lift her over his shoulder. "Hey there, princess," he said.

"Uncle Harry made Dragons!" She exclaimed rapidly.

"I saw," Bill said. "That was impressive."

"Thanks," Harry said, chuckling. "It was just some smoke manipulation, though."

They stayed and chatted about more 'grown-up' stuff as Teddy called it before Bill and Vic had to leave. They sent Teddy upstairs to do his homework for Monday and sat down in the Living Room. 

"I'm so lucky to be able to live this life with you," she said.

He looked at her with a smile and gave her a kiss that almost made her forget what she was about to tell him. "I think we've already established that I'm the lucky one," he told her, kissing her again. "I mean, have you seen yourself?"

She laughed. "I'm not gonna look like this in a few months," she said. She was fine with it. It came with the pregnancy, and they had been trying for quite a few months, but still…

"What do you mean?" He asked, furrowing his brow in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she said, taking a deep breath. Why was this so hard? "I'm pregnant," she blurted out. 

Harry blinked, then his mouth dropped open as he processed what she said. He took a deep shuddering breath as his mouth broke into a brilliant smile. She only had a second to brace herself as he let out a "WOO HOO!!" and lifted her up. The next second they were jumping and spinning around the room like little children.

"You're serious?" He asked, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. 

"I am," she replied. 

Harry proceeded to pepper her face with kisses and he did not look like he was going to stop anytime soon. Finally, he gave her a deep, passionate kiss on her mouth, which was the scene Teddy walked into. 

"EW!" He cried, covering his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to be a big brother!" Harry cried, laughing. 

"What?" Teddy asked open mouthed, looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny.

"Yeah," Ginny whispered, holding her arms out. Teddy also let out a whoop and jumped into her arms, and hugged her tightly.

A few minutes later, as they sat down to choose baby names from a binder- because Harry had one of those apparently- she couldn't help but agree with her previous statement, she really was lucky. 

"How about Claiborne if we have a boy?" She asked.

"Absolutely not," Harry replied as Teddy made a face.

"Oh come on," Ginny said with a pout. "It's cool, isn't it?" 

"We are NOT naming our child Claiborne!" 

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 5

AO3 | FFN

Previous chapter on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

*******

Harry barely reacted in time to put up a Shield Charm before two Stunning Spells shot across the kitchen table at him and deflected up into the ceiling.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Ginny and Ron shouted at the same time, Ron flailing and tipping over backward in his chair.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Charlie screamed at Harry.

"Is he pressuring you into this?" Bill growled at Ginny.

"There is no reason to resort to something so drastic!" said Percy.

"And it's definitely not something to laugh about," said George.

Fleur was babbling a mile a minute in French, tears welling in her eyes and trying to get Victoire to stop crying.

Molly had collapsed into Arthur's arms and fainted.

"Have you lot all lost your minds!?" shouted Harry. "Why is it so important that I keep it?"

"What use do we have for it, anyway?" asked Ginny.

A second explosion of angry shouting erupted as all the Weasleys talked over each other.

"How in the WORLD is all this the appropriate response to Harry and Ginny living together!?" pleaded Hermione.

"THAT'S NOT — wait, they're living together!?" said Percy.

Hermione gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Oh please," George rolled his eyes, "Anyone with a brain already knew that."

"What!? Why didn't you say anything!" said Charlie, "We could have stopped this before it happened!"

"Gee, thanks, Hermione," growled Harry as she blushed harder.

"Then what the hell are all you gits talking about!?" barked Ginny loudly to cut through the cacophony of testosterone. "As annoying as you always are when treating me like an innocent girl, it makes more sense than getting upset about Harry's stupid Wizengamot seat!"

"Harry has a Wizengamot seat!?" asked Percy in awe.

"Don't get any ideas, Perce, Harry's taken," said George.

"Of course we're not talking about that!" said Molly, her voice shaking as she regained consciousness and stood up straight. "We're talking about the baby!"

Harry and Ginny looked sideways at Victoire.

"THE NEW BABY!" Molly shrieked, growing more exasperated.

"What, Hermione's baby?" asked Ginny.

Molly fainted again.

"Ex-CUSE me!?" cried Hermione as every head in the room spun to face her, Ron's turning a sickly shade of green.

"Oh...I shouldn't have eaten all those biscuits," Ron muttered fearfully, holding his stomach.

"Wait, Hermione's pregnant too?" asked Percy.

"No, I am not!" said Hermione forcefully.

"Wait, what do you mean 'too?'" asked Ginny. "Who else is pregnant?"

"THERE IS NO 'ELSE!' I AM NOT PREGNANT!" Hermione screamed. "Can we please establish that first?"

"Love, just calm down," said Ron softly, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "It's okay, we can handle this. Why don't you just sit down…."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, even if I were pregnant, if you start coddling me you'll regret it. Ginny, why the hell did you say that I'm pregnant?"

"Well she kept dropping hints left and right that someone was pregnant!" Ginny gestured wildly towards Fleur, who until now was doing a good job of avoiding the chaos, and blushed self-consciously when it was her turn to be the focus of all the anger.

"Ginny, just stop it!" Fleur lashed out. "I was trying to encourage you to come clean!"

"...Me?"

"Ginny, we know about the baby," said Arthur calmly. "We've known for days."

About a dozen different emotions collided violently inside Harry. He couldn't imagine what the expression on his face might look like. He slowly turned on the spot towards Ginny.

"I'm sure you're about to say something all noble and comforting," said Ginny dryly. "But you don't have to be that good of a boyfriend yet. No, I'm not pregnant."

"I applaud your performance, Gin-Gin," said George, "but nothing stays secret for long in this family." He jerked his head toward Ron.

"Wha—Why are you jerking your head towards me, don't jerk your head towards me!" Ron panicked.

"Why is he jerking his head towards you, Ron?" Ginny seethed.

"Hell if I know!" Ron said defensively. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, this is the first I've heard of any new babies!"

"Sorry, Ronniekins, but you spilled the beans to Teddy, and he sold you out," said George.

"You told Teddy that I'm pregnant!?" Ron flinched as Ginny smacked his arm.

"Using much more vulgar language," Molly whimpered, still trembling and desperately clutching onto Arthur for support.

"I did not tell Teddy that you're pregnant!" Ron spoke up. "I never even—"

He stopped speaking and his eyes bulged out. He and Hermione faced each other, realization dawning on their faces.

Ron's voice is small. "...Oh—Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop it!" he cowered as Hermione started furiously hitting him.

"You — complete — idiot Ronald Weasley!" she shouted with each hit.

Ginny's older brothers were looking far too pleased with themselves for her taste.

"Okay, so can we stop this charade now?" asked Bill.

"Okay, I don't know what this latest domestic incident is about," said Ginny, pointing at the sparring couple, "I just know that I'm not pregnant."

"Teddy heard Ron saying that Harry had knocked you up!" said Charlie.

"No….but I might have said that it was likely that he would knock her up."

Harry gaped at him. "Why were you discussing me knocking up Ginny at all!?" he demanded, as he physically restrained Ginny from attacking Ron.

"Because you both were being so bloody shameless!" Ron shouted back. "It's enough to drive anyone mental! Don't try to annoy your brother by having no self-control and then get mad when he says you have no self control!"

"I want the record to show that I did not partake in this line of reasoning and told him he was being ridiculous," said Hermione.

"Thanks for the support, Love," said Ron.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy all seemed to have deflated like balloons. Their faces matched their hair and they were looking anywhere but Ginny's furious face.

"Well...erm…." said Charlie, trying to keep his face stern, "Ron's right, you should still—"

"Oh, do not try to still chest-beat after you've all been exposed as idiots!" Ginny hissed. "You've all been absolutely terrible to Harry and me based on what a toddler overheard!"

"She is right," Fleur scolded her husband, rejoining the row now that she had calmed Victoire down, "If you zink zat she is pregnant, you should not start fights to stress 'er out! Shame on you!" Bill hung his head.

"You know, I really don't think that trying to manipulate Ginny into talking about it is much better," said Harry flatly, "You all need to mind your own business!"

"Yes, don't think I'm going to forget this any time soon!" Ginny waved a threatening finger at all of them. "Not only treating me like an idiot child who's been taken advantage of, but actually thinking we're stupid and reckless enough to unintentionally get pregnant in the first place!"

"See, Molly dear?" Arthur told his wife gently, "it was all just a misunderstanding." He had guided her into a chair and was trying to calm her down. Her breathing was quick and shallow and her eyes were darting around madly.

"...No. No, it all fit…" she shook her head violently, "They're covering it up. You need to tell the truth, Ginny!"

It was clear that there was no reasoning with her, she had become delirious by now from all the chaos and panic.

Ginny groaned. "All right, you want to settle this? Fine, let's settle this." And without another word, she marched out of the kitchen into the sitting room, threw some floo powder into the fireplace, called out "Diagon Alley!" and disappeared into the flames.

The kitchen was finally quiet for the next few minutes as Molly's breathing slowly but surely slowed down to merely anxious instead of an outright panic attack. Bill and Fleur were bickering quietly in French, while Hermione silently gave Ron her best "I told you so" look for not watching what he said around Teddy.

After what felt like an eternity, the fireplace roared to life again and Ginny marched back into the kitchen, dusting soot off her clothes.

"Where did you go?" asked Harry.

She held up a vial of clear liquid. "Apothecary," she said shortly. The unique shape of the bottle was instantly recognizable.

"Oh, well that's just great," said Ron tiredly. "Harry Potter's girlfriend hastily buying a pregnancy test potion, I'm sure that won't be in the headlines tomorrow."

Ginny ignored him as she skimmed over the card that came attached to the potion. "Okay, yeah, blue for boy, pink for girl, white for not pregnant."

She uncorked the flask, set it down on the table, used her wand to cut off a single strand of her hair, and lowered it into the solution. The clear, colorless contents of the bottle instantly started bubbling furiously.

"See?" Ginny barked furiously, "So, now that we've gotten this circus over with, I would greatly appreciate it if you gits kindly butted the hell out of my love life, and we can all….just….move….on…."

Her voice trailed off into nothing as her eyes remained locked on the vial on the table.

Which was now a bright, vibrant blue.

[pockcock]

parisienne!ymir headcanons

Parisienne!Ymir is much like Jeanne Damas when it comes to her styles. Lots of jeans or pants and white shirts, long trench coats and if it's not a 'good hair day' a beret is a must.

Parisienne!Ymir loves her morning coffee with jam on toast, she dips her bread into her coffee before drinking it and when she eats the bread, smoking is the cream for her coffee.

Parisienne!Ymir models for Channel, Burberry and Balmain. The only time you see her with a dress is probably a photoshoot day. She hates dresses but damn, she looks like a goddess in them.

Parisienne!Ymir has to have camembert in her fridge. And wine from Bordeaux. "Paris' wine is shit," she says while gulping that sweet red wine. The way she holds the wine glass can melt you like ice cream.

Parisienne!Ymir hates summers, winters and springs. She is a fall girl. She loves watching the leaves fall when they have that pretty orange color. She loves visiting Tour D'eiffel when the grass is full of pretty leaves, she scoops them over and sits down to enjoy the cold breeze.

Parisienne!Ymir lives in the 7th arrondissement, close to Musée d'Orsay. She has a very small apartment filled with cactuses. She hates them but never throws them away.

Parisienne!Ymir is obsessed with museums and old bookstores. She isn't particularly interested in any of the things in the museum but there's something about Musée du Louvre... She stands in front of "La Belle Ferronnière" by Leonardo Da Vinci for hours, just examining the beauty of this pretty woman. Her favorite part is the Egyptian Antiques and the Escalier Daru where "La Victoire de Samothrace" sits.

Parisienne!Ymir has a thing for politics and history. She hates talking about it but loves to read and research about coup d'états, revolutions, and wars. She enjoys looking at stupid generals who made stupid mistakes and lose a war. "Fucking men... only think about victory and glory," she says.

Parisienne!Ymir loves cursing. If someone is being an asshole in the traffic, she lowers her window and shouts "Fils de pute!" Verlan is a whole another story though... She thinks it's not very elegant. Yet you can still hear her saying “Ya trop de monde, c’est ouf. (It's so crowded here, it's crazy.)” under her breath when you two decide to see the Saine or a quick "Cimer... (Thanks...)" with a blush on her cheeks when you wipe the chocolate off of her lips.

Parisienne!Ymir is a goddess and she fucking knows it.

huge thanks to @maries-gallery because she is also a goddess... and @erenstellar I think you'd love these <3

© 2021 sunshinedragonofthewest. All rights reserved. Do not modify, copy, repost my work.

[lifeofkaze]

The Easter Dragon

Charlie Weasley x Reader

A/N: Happy Easter to all you lovely people!

Word Count: ~ 1.800 

With a sigh of relief, Charlie shut the door to his old room behind him and leaned against it for a moment. The Burrow was a madhouse today; all his brothers and his sister had arrived with their families to celebrate Easter with the Weasley grandparents. His parents loved their house being filled with the laughter of countless children once more, but Charlie was glad for the respite his old room provided him.

Everyone was here already, except for you. You weren’t scheduled to arrive until tomorrow, for the actual Easter celebrations. There had been some last minute emergency back at the dragon reserve that had demanded your immediate attention; under usual circumstances, Charlie would have stayed as well, but the circumstances were anything but usual this time.

He carefully placed his bag on his old bed and produced the giant chocolate egg he had secretly crafted in your kitchen back in Romania before he had left for England. His mother had told him how to do it; gifting each other chocolate eggs had been a tradition in the Weasley family since Charlie could remember.

He had given it his all; he had spent countless hours meticulously carving the scales out of the crimson coloured chocolate before he had sprinkled it with a fine layer of golden glitter to make it look like the egg of a Chinese Fireball; he knew they were your favourite breed.

Charlie brushed his old dragon miniatures on the desk to the side with his elbow before he delicately placed the dragon egg on the wooden surface. He lifted the top off and set it aside before he dug deep into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out the small red box containing your present and placed it in the middle of the lower half. He assembled both halves again, making sure the scales on the outside were aligning, and sealed the crack in the chocolate with a flick of his wand.

He observed his work with a self-satisfied grin before placing the egg in the wicker basket he had stuffed with hay and some smaller chocolate eggs and pushed it back under his bed until the time for its great appearance had come.

Relieved that this part of your surprise was finished, he left the room to go help Bill put up the garden decorations his mother had forced on him, whistling happily to himself. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the two intrigued pairs of eyes watching him leaving his room from the shadow of the crooked staircase.

*

When he returned an hour later, he stopped dead in his tracks upon finding the door to his room standing slightly ajar. The colour drained from his freckled face as he frantically raked his mind for the memory of whether he had locked the door or not. He pushed it open and went straight for the hiding place of his special Easter basket. He crouched down on the floor to peek under the bed and found his worst fear confirmed; the basket was gone.

His heart pounded faster as the panic started to set in; he had to find the dragon egg again. He searched the whole floor for it, then the next one down, and the ground floor afterwards. He was just rummaging through the kitchen as the sound of crinkling paper and giggles reached his ears from the adjacent living room.

Charlie spun around and followed the laughter to find his nieces and nephews assembled in a circle on the carpet, surrounded by heaps of coloured wrapping paper, mouths smudged with chocolate. In the middle of the carnage sat his basket, the red dragon egg the last thing to survive the feast.

“Where did you get that?” he asked them with the sternest Uncle-Charlie-voice he could muster.

The little rascals froze on their spot as their eyes collectively darted to their scolding uncle.

Little Lily finally plucked up her courage to answer him. “The Easter Bunny brought us chocolate!” she stated defensively. “We were even sharing!”

Charlie stemmed his hands into his hips. “The Easter Bunny, huh? Does this,” he pointed to his chocolate dragon egg, “look like a regular Easter egg to you?”

They all shook their head. “No, Uncle Charlie,” muttered Hugo.

“That’s because it’s something special,” Charlie lowered his voice conspiratorially. “It belongs to the Easter Dragon.”

James crossed his arms in front of his chest critically. “The Easter Dragon?”

“Exactly,” Charlie crouched down next to them. “He lives in Romania and like proper dragons do, he guards his treasure until the time is right. And he wants you to give his egg back.”

James hummed and leaned over to his cousin Fred II without taking his eyes off Charlie. “Do we believe that, Freddie?”

The other boy shook his head. “Not at all, James.”

“Thought so.” With a sudden lunge forward he tackled Charlie, who immediately lost his balance and crashed to the ground. James wrestled Charlie’s wand from the waistband of his trousers and held it up triumphantly before leaping off his stunned uncle.

“Run!” he shouted to the other children. Fred grabbed the precious egg and lead the pack out into the garden in a full sprint, James hot on his heels.

Charlie cursed in Romanian and scrambled to his feet. He cursed again as he realised his wandless state and set off after them.

Although their legs were fundamentally shorter than his, they were surprisingly fast, he had to give them that.

He was chasing them through the garden and back into the house again. George had joined him as he had leapt over the fence of the chicken compound. “Why are we running?” he had shouted at Charlie with his unmistakable mischievous laugh, but Charlie had been too out of breath to answer.

They raced them through the kitchen and up the stairs to the top landing. Charlie thought they had them cornered there, but these kids were surprisingly resourceful. They had climbed out of the window and onto the roof one by one and were clambering down on the many nooks and ledges of the Burrow by the time Charlie had reached them.

He could hear Hermione hysterically screaming from outside as she saw Hugo dangling from the ancient drains, but by the time she had her wand out, he had already let go and landed safely in James’s arms.

Charlie dashed down the stairs again with newfound determination; if he managed to reach the porch before they did, he would be able to intercept them and get his treasure dragon egg back.

He skittered out of the patio door to see the kids already making their way off the porch in the direction of the fields unfolding behind their garden. Freddie was still carrying the egg under his arm.

As they passed Victoire, who was lounging in a sunchair at the end of the patio, flicking through the pages of a magazine, she stuck her foot out all of a sudden without even batting an eye. James, who had been running in front, stumbled and came crashing down on the floorboards; the other children were unable to stop their momentum and tripped over him, landing on top of each other in a cluster of arms and legs.

“That’s for ratting Teddy and me out earlier,” Victoire stated indignantly, got up and strutted off.

Charlie was finally able to catch up with them, this flanks burning from the lack of air. As Freddie scrambled to his feet rubbing his elbow, he was able to take in the amount of damage the fall had wreaked on what had been the focal point for his great surprise for you only an hour ago.

The crimson chocolate egg had crushed beneath the weight of his nieces and nephews, the shattered remains scattered all over the floor. Charlie’s eyes quickly scanned the area for the small box the egg had held; unseen by the children, it had rolled under Victoire’s sunchair. Before anyone else could get their hands on it, he quickly scooped it up.

“What in Godric’s name happened here?”

Charlie jumped at the familiar voice coming from behind him. He quickly got up off the floor and hid the box behind his back as he turned around to face you.

He smiled in what he hoped looked like a surprised and innocent way as you strode up the steps from the garden to place a quick kiss on his lips.

“What’re you doing here already, love?” he murmured against your lips. “I thought they needed you back at the reserve until tomorrow.”

You hummed as you smiled up at your oddly flustered looking boyfriend. “We were able to settle things quicker than we thought we would, so I caught an earlier portkey.” You eyed him up and down. “Is everything alright?”

He was spared an answer as the kids, who had disentangled themselves from one another, took note of who had just arrived.

“Auntie Y/N!” they screeched as the raced past Charlie and almost knocked you back down the steps into the grass.

You laughed and ruffled their hair. Lily hugged your waist tightly and exclaimed “Look at what we nicked from the Easter Dragon!” She was waving one of the bigger shards of the chocolate egg in your face.

Your eyes found Charlie’s as you smiled down at the girl; they were shining with the laughter mirrored on your face. “The Easter Dragon, huh? Now that’s a dragon I’d like to meet; do you want to tell me all about him?” You picked Lily up and made your way over to the big tree at the corner of the garden where the old swing Charlie and his siblings had played on when they were children was situated.

All the kids followed her without so much as another glance at their uncle. Only Lily stuck his tongue out to him over your shoulder.

Charlie smiled to himself at the sight of you surrounded by the youngest members of your family. He opened the box he had still held hidden behind his back until now to check its content. He sighed with relief upon seeing that the ring situated inside was unharmed.

“Do you think she noticed something?” Bill had walked up to him, leaning on the railing lining their porch and casting a quick glance at his younger brother.

Charlie snapped the box shut again and stuffed it deep into his pocket. “I don’t think so.”

“And what are you going to do now? Your plan seems pretty much ruined to me.”

Charlie shrugged it off. “Doesn’t matter,” he grinned, “the Easter Dragon always finds a way.”

[chudleycanonficfest]

Quiet

Day 13, story #2 is by @voldemorts-tap-shoes

Title: Quiet

Author: voldemorts-tap-shoes

Pairing: Molly x Arthur

Prompt: Halloween

Rating: G

TW: none

Quiet is not a word that Molly has often used to describe the Burrow.

Frankly, when the kids were living at home, quiet was often a sign of things gone awry. The other mums down in the village yearned for quiet, lamenting when their children wouldn’t go down for a nap—not, of course, being privy to the benefits of a couple of drops of Dreamless Sleep potion—and disrupted their peaceful homes with their cries. But Molly Weasley knew better than to trust ‘quiet’.

Quiet meant Bill had snuck out to meet up with friends in Ottery St. Catchpole or that Charlie was out in the woods behind the house, searching for some magical creature who would inevitably inflict a wound on him that Molly would dutifully heal. Quiet meant Percy was cooped up in his room, studying too hard as usual. Quiet was the twins busy plotting a prank, Ron faking a nap to get out of chores, Ginny hiding in the pantry because she had stolen one of her brother’s brooms and was nursing a swollen ankle that she didn’t want to confess to.

Quiet was trouble.

Of course, as the kids all left for Hogwarts over the years, Molly had had to learn to live with the quiet. It seemed like a slow descent into silence at first, but when the twins had started their first year, it was two kids gone at once, and then Ron and Ginny back-to-back almost right after, and then they were—what was the Muggle expression Arthur had used?—empty nesters.

Arthur always said it wouldn’t last forever. That one day, the kids would have spouses and families, and there would be even more Weasley love to go around. Molly had always feared that Arthur was only half-right: that their own lives would keep them away from their childhood home, which would feel quieter than ever in their absence.

But Arthur had been wholly right, and then some.

Hardly a single day went by without one of the kids Flooing over to drop off a grandchild for babysitting—either planned or impromptu—or to borrow a bit of potion they didn’t have time to brew themselves, or even just with a casual “what’s for dinner, Mum?” It was rare anymore that the house was as full as it used to be at all times, but it was even more rarely quiet.

Molly had been working in the kitchen much of the afternoon in preparation for the evening ahead. Arthur arrived home from the Ministry just ahead of when the children were scheduled to start arriving, and he was carrying a peculiar object in his hand. It appeared to be a pumpkin with a face. “Look at what they gave me at work today,” he said, marveling at the pumpkin as he set it on the table and reached for a warm tray of biscuits.

“What is it, dear?” Molly asked, leaving the pots on the stove to stir themselves as she moved to greet her husband.

“The Muggles call it a jack-o-lantern.” Arthur handed it to her for a closer look. It was hard and hollow, unlike a real pumpkin, and the features were painted on. “And watch what it does.” Arthur placed a hand beneath the pumpkin, Molly heard a click, and then the pumpkin was glowing from the inside. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

The children would probably remind their father that they could do just the same thing with magic, that the Great Hall at Hogwarts was in all likelihood adorned with similarly lit pumpkins at that very moment, but Molly never tired of Arthur’s enthusiasm for Muggle things. His insatiable wonder with what they could accomplish was a magic all its own.

The Floo chimed from the other room, and soon the sound of children once again filled the magical house. Every year on Halloween, Molly delighted in seeing their creative costumes and filling them with sweets, and for a few hours, the house buzzed with the sounds of laughter and little feet and love.

It was getting late, by their standards, at least—they weren’t baby mandrakes any longer, after all—by the time they were alone in the house again. Molly was prepared to complete all of the clean-up tonight—the aftermath of her cooking, the princess hat left strewn across the floor by Victoire, even the muddy footprints that Hugo’s cowboy boots had tracked across the entryway—but Arthur’s tug at her hand kept her on the couch. His head was tipped back against the cushions, and she had been fooled into thinking he was already asleep.

“It’s nice when the kids are here, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice lulling her into a drowsy warmth as she leaned under his outstretched arm.

“Very nice,” she agreed.

Arthur’s arm tightened around her shoulder as he murmured sleepily, “The quiet is nice, too.”

Molly gave a contented sigh as she let her eyelids droop shut. Yes, she thought, sometimes the quiet is nice, too.