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thefearedashantis · 3 months

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Garlic Toast and Bloody Noses

Pairing: Sirius Black x SAHM! Reader (stay at home mom)

Summary: Your eldest daughter got in trouble at school and Sirius is livid.

Word count: 3.1K

Warning: None (if you think it needs one lmk)

Emmerson is cranky, per usual. You weren’t sure how long a two-year-old could cry before tiring themselves out, but he was surely going for the record.

Nothing you did soothed him. Rocking, singing, a stroll around the block. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to sleep. The reasoning for his upset was simple enough. One you’d figured out shortly after he was born.

He hated you. Detested. Loathed. Abhorred. As much as the very idea broke your heart.

From the moment he took his first breathe he despised your very presence. Would absolutely scream his little head off until Sirius, or anyone really, rescued him from your grasp. Only then from the comfort of his fathers’ arms would he calm, then turn back to stare at you accusingly with watery eyes.

Well, his father wasn’t home at the moment, and you stare at the clock praying for the minutes to go by quicker. School and extracurricular activities having ended, Sirius and your other two children should be walking through the front door any second.

Your husband would enter your home silently, tuckered out from a long day. He’d take off his shoes and hang up his coat. Round the couch and lean down to peck you gently at the corner of your lips before prying your son from your arms. Wrestling his fat hands loose of your hair which he never failed to get an ironclad grip on. Then you’d stow away in the bathroom for a few quiet minutes after saying hello to your girls. Just to give yourself a little pep talk and allow the headache pulsing behind your eyes to recede. Give yourself some much-needed reassurance that this behaviour couldn’t last forever. At some point he’d warm up to you.

He had to, right?

You’re wretched from your thoughts at the slam of the front door. Followed by a gust of air whisking by you where you were slumped in the living room, thunderous footsteps banging up the stairs. Another door slams in the distance.

From the brief glimpse at the back of a muddy soccer uniform you know it must be Amelia, and that fact has you up on your feet in a panic. Because just as your youngest scorned your existence your eldest adored you. If she wasn’t at school she was virtually glued to your hip. She would never come home without stopping to throw herself at you like you’d been apart for an eternity.

Something was wrong.

You’ve barely placed Emmy into his playpen, a rigorous tussle, and taken a step into the hall when a small body crashes into your middle. Your kindergartner. Backpack, coat and shoes still on.

“Mom!”

“Claire!” you try to match her enthusiasm.

“I’m hungry” she mumbles against your stomach, arms squeezing you tight.

“I made your favourite snack. It’s on the counter for you.”

Sirius appears in the archway just as Claire scurries away. He’s in a flurry, making long strides in the direction of the stairs without so much as acknowledging you. “You get back down here right now young lady!” His voice all but shakes the house, sending your heart scuttling into your throat. Sirius never raises his voice, especially not when angry. Sirius was hardly ever angry to begin with.

Your hand shoots out to grab at him before he can get too far, pulling him to a harsh stop. “Whoa, whoa whoa! What’s going on?”

“Lia got in a fight at school!” Claire calls from the kitchen.

And he’s teetering on you, trying to get you to let him go.

“What? Why didn’t you call me? What’s happened, is she alright?”

“I’d say she’s doing better than Isaac!” Now he’s moving, circling to the other end of the room, dragging you along with him. “I mean parents trust me to look after and teach their children! How does it seem when I can’t even discipline my own? She’s old enough to know not to hit others!”

Sirius was the music teacher at the local elementary school. The one both of your daughters attended. That being the case he usually handled anything pertaining to the girls while on the premises. Didn’t mean you were out of the loop however. If one got so much as a scratch on the playground you were sent a text about it. For the entire day to have elapsed without him informing you on what had happened was odd.

“Sirius” you release his arm in favour of his face, rubbing at the space between his nape and ear in a manner you knew he found soothing “Honey, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

But your attempts to pacify him prove worthless when his roaming eyes finally snap to yours with a steely coldness that has a chill running up your spine. You see none of the sticky affection you’re accustomed to within them. Nothing but distaste. There was no questioning Emmy’ parentage with that gaze.

“I told you the haircut wasn’t a good idea.”

Haircut? Was he still upset about that all these weeks later?

“What’s her hair have to do with anything?”

His eyes roll so hard you fear they’ll be lost in the back of his head. He shakes out of your hold. “Because you undermine me with every little thing when it comes to her! I try to put my foot down and you immediately slag it off!”

“It’s her hair Sirius. She wanted it short and you couldn’t give a good enough reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to have it that way.”

Emmy has finally gone quiet in his play pen. Standing and peeking over the edges at the two of you, gaze flitting back and forth like a ping pong ball whenever someone speaks. Probably wondering why his beloved father hasn’t come to pick him up yet.

“Because she looks like a boy!” Sirius throws his hands up, looking to the sky for some sort of backup he would not be receiving. “She already dresses like a boy, you’ve let her chop all her hair off and now she’s running around getting into trouble like some little delinquent!” With every word his face gets more and more red, voice trembling with raging effort.

You can’t seem to find anything to say for a long moment, just watching him breathe in and out in desperate rags. A minute passes, then two. When he manages to catch his breath and stumble over to the couch you follow closely behind. Leaning down near his ear so you won’t have to speak above a whisper.

“First of all Black, I don’t know who you’re speaking to in that tone but I suggest you check it, right now. Her hair and the way she dresses are nobody’s business but her own and they don’t make her a boy.” The fact those words could even leave his mouth after the childhood he had baffled you “And second I think you should stop and reevaluate the way you talk about your daughter, especially while she’s right upstairs to hear you.”

He turns his head. You’re so far into his space that your noses almost brush but you don’t back away. You would always stand firm when it came to your children. The one’s you two created and set out to raise together in the loving and supporting environment neither of you had gotten growing up.

“Are you guys arguing?”

You straighten up at the squeak of Claire’s question. She stands behind the couch with a slight frown on her round face. Her snack of garlic toast held between two hands.

“No darling of course not,” a smile splits your expression for good measure “why don’t you come with me to check on Lia while Daddy says hello to Emmy hm?”

Claire is not convinced “sounded like arguing.”

You’re at the base of the stairs, swatting the girl up them, when Sirius calls back in a very small manner “I’m sorry.”

He appears more like himself now, the love of your life. Thin, long limbed, warm eyes with a hint of melancholy. Deflated of his anger and replenished with his token skittish composure.

“When I come back there will be no more yelling.”

He nods, and you’re off to discover the root of this grand affair.

Claire stands outside of Lia’ closed door when you arrive. Shifting from foot to foot as if nervous to go in. You reach over her and rap on the sticker covered wood with a firm knuckle. There’s no answer but you turn the knob and enter anyway.

The room is dark, lights off and curtains drawn. The only illumination comes from the device set up on the bedside table that projects stars and planets onto the ceiling. A balled-up form rests in the very corner of the bed, back to you, arms slung over the head.

“Is she crying?” Claire whispers. Well, her version of whispering. Which was just her regular speaking volume but slower.

“No.” Lia grinds out. She twists herself around so you can see her face. She wasn’t crying but she surely had been if the red of her eyes were evidence enough.

You make your way over to the bed, posting yourself up against the headboard. Claire opts to sit at the bottom, gazing up at the light show.

“Want to tell me what happened at school today?”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

Despite the circumstances a warm fuzzy feeling seeps throughout your chest, always happy to indulge in some physical affection. Lia is still quite small for her age. She crawls over your legs and slots her body against yours, burrowing as close as she can manage, sticking her nose into the material of your shirt and inhaling deeply. Her dark hair tickles your face. Not long enough for a scrunchy and too short for much other styling. It sticks up in amusing ends from sweat.

Claire must feel left out because she wraps a crummy hand around your socked foot.

“Daddy’s disappointed in me,” her voice is hoarse and wobbly. She keeps her eyes shut tight while speaking, nose scrunched.

“He’s not, he’s just…unsettled, stressed maybe.”

“Is there a difference?”

To an eight-year-old there might not be.

“Daddy was yelling” comes a whisper snaking up from the end of the bed.

“Be quiet Claire!” Lia tries to shoo the younger girl out of her room but she refuses to go.

“Loudly.” She continues “His face was all red.”

You fight a giggle “Eat your bread Claire bear.”

“Furious” she finishes around the last mouthful of her treat. She’s always been your chatty baby, forever excited for new vocabulary words.

You return your full attention to Amelia “Tell mom what happened bug.”

She doesn’t start immediately, instead relishing in the feeling of your fingers combing through her damp hair for a while. When she does start speaking the story is much worse than you thought it would be.

The boys in class have been bothering her for the last few months.

One in particular who sits directly behind her by the name of Isaac. He is the reason, she confesses, for originally wanting to cut her hair short despite loving the lack of inches now. It was in hopes of deterring him from yanking it by handfuls.

They apparently dislike her always trying to hang around with them and not the girls. Girls belonged with girls and boys belonged with boys as it went. Not allowed to mix. Cooties too easily spread.

They took to stuffing things down the back of her shirt. Swiping her glasses off her face. Shoving her in the lunch line. Ripping the pages out of her notebooks. Pouring glue in her chair. Scratching mean names into her desk. Cornering her during recess while the teachers were distracted and pulling her pants down in front of everyone. Because if she wouldn’t play with the girls then she must be a boy but if she was a boy then they'd need proof.

She tried to tell her homeroom teacher when it first started but the woman didn’t believe her because Isaac is a top student and his family name stood proud on the sign outside of the new gym complex. She must have done something to him to earn such treatment.

“Did you go to your father?”

Lia shakes her head “I started to once but he just told me to try sticking with the girls more.”

“What about me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets between us.”

“You always tell me to be brave and stick up for myself if someone bothers me. I was trying to build up the courage but—” she dissolves into a low whine, struggling to finish around her tears. “I don’t think Daddy likes me.”

Claires eyebrows furrow. Up until then you didn’t think the girl had even been listening “Why would you say that!” she shouts, looking seconds away from bursting into tears herself.

You’re quick to intervene “She doesn’t mean it. Your big sister is just really sad right now.”

“No, I mean it!” Lia insists, sitting up to rub at her eyes “He doesn’t like me! He complains about everything I do!” her head bobbles from side to side as she lists “Sit more lady like. Why don’t you wear any of the dresses grandma bought you. Why don’t you do ballet instead of soccer. Why don’t you grow your hair out like the other girls. Why don’t you have any girl friends”

You take her hands into yours, they’re cold. You feel unprepared to deal with her emotions, she’s so young to even be ruminating over such things. All you want to do is ease her heartache, as her mother. An adult in her life who should have all the answers, but has no clue where to start. What would be saying too much and what would be too little. “Oh, my love, your father had a really hard time growing up with his own dad. He was really strict with him. That’s no excuse for him to take it out on you, but I know he loves you very much”

She deflates back onto your chest “Yeah, but he doesn’t like me.”

She finishes the story.

It was recess. She was climbing up onto the monkey bars and about to go across when Isaac caught her pant leg and tried to yank them down. On instinct she went to kick him off and accidentally struck him in the face.

“I didn’t mean to break his nose. Swear.”

Never in a million years would you think her capable of intentionally hurting some. You placate her with a kiss on the forehead anyway “how about you and mom go out for a treat? Huh? Just the two of us?”

She sniffles in contemplation “Ice cream?”

“Anything you want.”

“Can I come?” Claire crawls her way up to the headboard.

“I’ll bring you back some, but Lia’s had a very bad day and that means what?”

“She needs mommy time?”

“Exactly.”

You ease said girl out of your lap gently, laying her out on the pillows, and promising to be back in five minutes. Then you’d go for her treat.

On your way out of the room you notice Claire scooting closer. She sticks her pointer finger right in her sisters’ face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

The aggravated “Claire!” follows you down the stairs.

In the living room Sirius and Emmy sit in comfortable silence, your husband bouncing the now cheerful baby on his knee. His neck nearly snaps at your approach. Eyes already glassy with regret.

“Is she terribly upset?”

“Heartbroken more like” you say, not bothering to sugarcoat it for him “she thinks you don’t like her.”

He lowers his head in shameful anguish when you sit beside him. “I just, she’s so much like me when I was young.” No friends his own gender. Only interested in things typically deemed non-conforming “the things I went through in school, at home, it pains me to imagine that happening to her.”

How much had she told him of the bullying you wonder and why had he kept it from you. You'd been there for so much of his own struggle that it honestly hurts your feelings that he’d allowed himself to spiral so much without seeking you out. The number of times he showed up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. The cuts and bruises you’d tended, caused over simplicities like nail polish, the length of his hair, the music he listened to. The way he dressed, acted, spoke.

“Ok, but you can’t just force her to change who she is in the name of protecting her. Just because she isn’t the girliest girl out there doesn’t give anyone the right to bully her, not even you. All you’re doing is teaching her that being herself is not ok. Then to go and blow up on her like that. It’s confusing Sirius. You know better.”

You don't say it, wouldn’t ever go that low, but you know he’s thinking it. He’s acting like his father.

Sirius sits with your words.

“Why did she hit him then?”

“She didn’t really. He tried to pull her pants down on the playset so she kicked out. It was an accident.”

“Pull her pants down?”

A fresh wave of anger rolls over his shoulders. You snatch Emmy from his grasp before planting a kiss onto his temple.

“No more of that. Go upstairs and talk to her before we leave.”

You’d get on him later for keeping secrets from you.

Sirius returns the kiss, lingering for a few seconds too long, pressing his nose into the fat of your cheek. He smells like peppermint.

“I love you.” Her murmurs. And you’re suddenly transported back to your childhood bedroom. The sun just creeping over the horizon and spilling through your window right onto his sleeping face. The lips so like Claires’, ears and brows so like Emersons’, freckles like Amelias’. Hovering your finger over the bridge of his nose, skimming along his throat. Blowing gently at his thick lashes. Poking at the sliver of skin peeking out at his tummy where his shirt had risen up. When you’d fall asleep with him on the floor and always wake up to his breath on the back of your neck, legs tangled in bed with you. The fit of giggles sneaking him out the house before your parents woke up.

“Love you too. Now go!”

You’re once again left with Emmy in the exact same place you’d started. He watches Sirius take the stairs two at a time before turning back to you, frown already forming.

“And you my little man, i love you so much.”

#fem reader #female reader #fem!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader #thefearedashantis #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black #dad!sirius black #maurauders fanfic #mom!reader #sirius orion black #the marauders era #the marauders #hurt/comfort

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thetarttfuldickhead · 1 month

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Getting ready for their first date, like—

—Keeley bringing Rebecca to find the perfect outfit, not because she needs a new outfit and not because Roy and Jamie won’t love her in whatever, but that’s half the fun, isn’t it? Getting ready, building anticipation, sneaking another drink at Aeronaut while Derek fetches her two more dresses, just for the hell of it.

Rebecca tells her that she looks gorgerous in every bloody thing, but that she looks particularly gorgerous in the second pink one, and oh, they should stop by The Connaught Bar on their way to the spa, celebrate Keeley looking like the marvel she is, and maybe raise a toast to Roy and Jamie being far, far luckier than either of them deserve.

“If you were into women I’d never date anyone else,” Keeley says very seriously over her Fleurissimo. “We’d never even have to go on actual dates, we could just do this forever, it’d be fucking fantastic.” She makes an exaggerated face. “Now I’m stuck dating icky boys.”

And Rebecca laughs and hugs her and knows that she’s not serious, at least not about the last part.

(Rebecca hopes this works out because if it doesn’t and she has to deal with the implosion of a relationship between her head coach and their star player… Well. She’d put the brakes on the whole thing, maybe, if it weren’t for Keeley and the way she lights up when she talks about her icky boys, if it weren’t for the fact that Roy and Jamie are going to be absolutely ridiculous about each other no matter what Rebecca allows or doesn’t allow, if it weren’t for her sordid affair with Sam and how it hasn’t left her with a single leg to stand on.)

---

Getting ready for their first date, like—

—Jamie giving Roy an incredulous and halfway reproachful look as Roy sticks his head out the office to tell him that they’re leaving, so mush. “I’m going back home, mate. Dani’s giving me a ride.”

And Roy’s eyebrows do their Roy’s eyebrow thing. “What the fuck for? Keeley’s picking us up in less than two hours. At my place. You can do your fucking hair bullshit or whatever you need to do there.”

(It’s unclear to Roy exactly what hair bullshit Jamie might need doing, because he’s already spent half an hour after training in front of the dressing room mirror with most of the team chiming in with encouragement and advice, but it’s Jamie, so it’s probably something.)

“Not with your tragic products, I can’t,” Jamie mutters (and that’s a right laugh because Jamie knows better than most everybody that Roy does not, in fact and unlike some other people, settle for fucking Lynx or the like). “And anyway, we’re going on a date with each other, right, not just with Keeley, so we can’t get ready together. What am I supposed to do, sneak out the door and ring the bell when it’s time to pick you up?”

“What? No.”

Jamie points at him. “Right, ‘cause that’d be weird.”

“That’s not—“ But Jamie doesn’t let him finish, he just walks off with Dani, because he doesn’t have time for Roy’s spluttering, has he, and doesn’t Roy know Jamie has a date to get ready for?

Get ready he does, but because he is a filthy hypocrite (a word he does know the meaning of, so there, Coach Beard) he doesn’t hesitate to call Keeley when he can’t decide between his favourite Stone Island jacket and the new patterned Gucci number he got sent the other day, and then he has to have opinions on her shade of lipstick, and she suggests he wear the Layton she bought him a few years back, and it’s a brilliant time, just like them getting ready for the red carpet back when they were dating before.

“Bit like cheating, though, innit,” Jamie tells Keeley, out of a sudden and uncharacteristic sense of fairness. “Us asking each other for advice when getting ready for a date with each other, yeah? I should be on the phone with like Isaac, and you should talk to Rebecca or Barbara.”

“Well,” Keeley reasons as she sips her mimosa and waits for her nail polish to dry. “We’re going on a date with Roy too, and since we are the ones who properly knows what he likes and we want to look fucking fit for him, it makes sense for us to help each other out, yeah? Besides,” she adds, “we can do whatever we want, babe. Screw the rules, right?”

And yeah, right. That’s the basis for this whole thing, innit? “Yeah,” Jamie agrees, giving her a grin. “Screw the rules.” And then his smile softens into something gentler, almost shy, something she used to be the only one ever allowed to see. “Want look fucking fit for you too,” he admits, like it’s a secret.

Keeley’s smile, too, is soft. “Aw, babe, me too. And you do.”

—

Getting ready for their first date, like—

Roy picking Phoebe up from school and dropping her off with Sophia’s retired colleague, and when Phoebe asks why she’s not staying with him this time he takes a long moment to answer, and it’s messed up, isn’t it, that he’s this concerned about what a fucking child should think about his love life.

Not just any child, though, is she. “I’m going on a date,” he says eventually, glancing at her in the rear mirror.

“Oh.” She frowns; not in disapproval, he thinks, but in careful consideration. Then: “Is this a date with Keeley or with Jamie?”

Huh. All right, then. First potential hurdle cleared. As for the second… “Both.”

To his stupidly immense relief, Phoebe brightens at that. “That’s very clever of you, Uncle Roy. It would have been really hard to choose between Jamie and Keeley, and they both love you so much.”

Roy shakes his head, biting back a smile that’s as much affection as it is incredulity. “All right, you little precocious shit, get out of here, and be good for Ms. Mallard.”

And then he has just enough time to get back home and change out of his black shirt and trousers into another black shirt and pair of trousers, to trim his beard and add a textured silk tie (very dark purple, Keeley and Jamie better fucking appricate the splash of colour). He spends a long time staring at his reflection, partly because he really is quite vain (his stubborn protests to the contrary), but mostly because this means something to him. They do: Keeley, Jamie. The three of them, and what they could be.

It leaves him a little dizzy. It scares the hell out of him. He wants to get this right.

The door bell chimes. Jamie, and Roy has barely let him in, has barely even begun to figure out what he’s supposed to say to this Jamie, to his date Jamie, to the Jamie whose eyes sparkle and who manages to make even that ridiculous outfit look good, when the bell chimes again, and there is Keeley, a fucking vision, and Roy knows what to say to her.

“You look fucking amazing,” he says, and she giggles and leans in to kiss his cheek, very chaste (it’s a first date, after all), and still it’s nearly enough to leave him breathless with how much he’s missed her.

“Got you this,” he mutters a little hoarsely, picking up and handing over a Black Baccarat rose that’s been strategically sat on the sidetable.

Impractical, since they’re going out, and corny, but fucking sue him. Roy Kent will headbutt anyone who dares call him a romantic, but that doesn’t mean he thinks they’re wrong – and anyway, it’s worth it for the way Keeley smiles as she inhales the sweet scent.

“Uh, where’s my flower?” Jamie complains.

Roy rolls his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he growls. “Fine.” And he heads off into the kitchen where there is indeed a second rose waiting in a small vase. He’d left it there, deeply unsure if he was supposed to offer Jamie one or not; but that’s that cleared up then, flowers for Jamie is a go, he’ll make a note for their next date.

Jamie beams as he accepts his rose; grins wickedly as he, too, leans in to kiss Roy’s cheek.

Roy clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his heart’s sped up at the brief touch. “Okay. Let’s fucking do this.”

“Yeah,” Keeley agrees. “Let’s.”

And Jamie doesn’t say anthing at all, but he nods, and he takes Roy’s arm, and Keeley takes his hand, and they walk out into the night and fucking do it.

#surprise saturday scribblings!#something silly something soft #royjamiekeeley #roy kent #jamie tartt #keeley jones #keeley & rebecca #ficlet #my stuff

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themultifandomgal · 5 months

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Isaiah Jesus- We’re Getting Married

When I told my brothers that Isaiah and I were getting married, they were not happy. I am the youngest Shelby, as Arthur puts it 'our baby sister'. Thankfully though my brothers came around and now here I stand smoothing down my dress as Esme places my vail in my hair

"You look beautiful YN" Lizzie gushes

"Thank you, but so do you both" I look at Esme and Lizzie through the mirror in front of me

"Ready?"

"Yeah" I smile turning around to Lizzie

"I'll go let Arthur know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later Arthur knocks the door with his hand over his eyes

"We're all decent you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"

"I'm sorry. It's just... my baby sister is getting married"

"Ok no smudging the makeup" Esme says stopping both me and Arthur from crying

"I think Isaiah is waiting" Lizzie places her hands on her hips

"Your right. Come on" Arthur holds his arm out for me to take.

As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Isaiah I start fidgeting

"Don't be nervous"

"I'm not. I'm excited. I love him Arthur"

"I know you do" finally the doors open and in walk Lizzie and Tom, then Esme and John. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally Arthur walks me to Isaiah who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Arthur gives Isaiah my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to the rest of my family

"Welcome" the priest starts "today we are here to witness the marriage and bond between YN and Isaiah. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"I do" we both respond

"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Isaiah or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Isaiah and I hold hands

"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Isaiah says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Charlie steps forward with both of our rings. Isaiah then takes my left hand

"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" he then places the ring on my finger. I repeat

"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Isaiah and I share a kiss.

It's now the after party at the Garrison and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Isaiah and I had our first dance then Arthur clears his throat

"Can I have everyone's attention" I take Isaias hand in mine "I'd like to raise a toast to my sister and now brother in-law. Now when you first starting courting I wasn't happy" this makes us all laugh "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love that can't be ignored. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, but no babies yet I'm still not recovered from this wedding" again this makes everyone laugh "to YN and Isaiah"

"To YN and Isaiah" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to my now husband and look up at him

"I love you"

"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #isaiah jesus x y/n #isaiah jesus x oc #isaiah jesus x reader #isiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus imagine #isaiah jesus #sister shelby #shelby sister

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voidpetrova · 8 months

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marriage pact — stiles stilinski x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: unrequited love, heartbreak — angst

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you and stiles had made a pack as kids to get married when the time came

✧.*

in a quaint garden bathed in soft afternoon sunlight, the air was abuzz with the melody of laughter and cheerful chatter. white chairs were neatly arranged in rows, leading to a flower-adorned altar where you stood, radiant in your wedding gown. beside you, your now-husband, smiled adoringly, his eyes filled with love and anticipation. as the ceremony began, your heart raced with excitement.

among the guests, your eyes found stiles stilinski, his usually animated face now tinged with a bittersweet mixture of joy and melancholy. memories of your childhood came flooding back: the days when you and stiles had made that whimsical pact, pinky-swearing that if you were both still single at 30, you would marry each other.

stiles watched you exchange vows with Isaac, his lips curling into a wistful smile. he remembered the day you two had concocted that pact, a mixture of innocent dreams and youthful naiveté. back then, it was a mere joke, a silly promise made by two best friends who thought they'd be inseparable forever. but life had its own plans, and now, he stood there witnessing the culmination of your journey with someone else.

as the ceremony continued, stiles couldn't help but steal glances at you. your happiness was palpable, your eyes sparkling with adoration for isaac. he couldn't deny the beauty of the love you shared, even if it meant his own heart was breaking in the process. he found solace in the memories of your adventures together, the late-night talks, and the unwavering support you'd given each other over the years.

the reception followed, a joyful celebration under the open sky. stiles watched from a distance as you danced with isaac, your laughter carried by the wind. he held a glass of champagne, toasting to your happiness with a mixture of genuine joy and masked sorrow. the guests around him chatted and laughed, unaware of the complex emotions that churned within him.

when the time came for toasts, stiles stood up, his voice steady but laced with emotion. he spoke of your unwavering friendship, the unbreakable bond you shared since childhood. he recounted tales of your misadventures and the countless moments that defined your relationship. amidst the smiles and chuckles, his gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of his unspoken feelings hung heavy in the air.

as the night waned, he found himself stealing away to a quiet corner of the garden. you eventually found him, a concerned look on your face. he managed a small smile, brushing off your worry with a lighthearted joke. but you knew him too well. the unshed tears glistened in his eyes, the cracks in his facade too obvious to ignore.

“stiles,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “are you okay?” he nodded, taking a deep breath. “yeah, i am. just reminiscing, you know?”

you leaned against the railing beside him, your gaze fixed on the stars above. “it's been quite a journey, hasn't it?” he chuckled, a touch of sadness in his voice. “yeah, from making that ridiculous pact to this. life works in mysterious ways.”

you bumped your shoulder gently against his, a fond smile on your lips. “i'm glad you're here, stiles. you've always been a constant in my life.” he turned to you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he mustered a genuine smile. “and i always will be.”

in that moment, you both knew that while the nature of your relationship had evolved, the bond you shared remained unbreakable. as the night drew to a close, you held onto the memories of your shared history and looked forward to the future with isaac, carrying stiles' silent support with you, forever etched in your heart. if only you hadn't missed the tears that filled his eyes when you weren't looking.

#teen wolf #tw #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski angst #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi smut

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the-iceni-bitch · 11 months

Text

Nobody Does It Like My Daddy

Relationship: Ari Levinson x Jake Jensen (bear and cubby) Ransom Drysdale x female!reader (ninja and puppy) implications of the quadrouple (NLLYL AU)

Words: ~1.5k

Summary: Father’s Day with the Jensen-Levinsons.

Warnings: explicit language, brief explicit sexual content (salad tossing, mention of blowjobs, m/m sex), a ridiculous amount of fluff, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE QUADROUPLE!!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: Happiest of Father’s Day to you my lovely readers from perhaps my favorite DILFs.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Jake grumbled when he felt Ari kiss his neck, screwing his eyes closed against the morning sun that was filling their bedroom.

“Too early.” He huffed when his husband chuckled into his shoulder, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow to try to force himself back to sleep. “It’s Sunday, the triplets took forever to go down last night, let me sleep.”

“I just can’t, cub.” Ari purred and crawled so his body was stretched over Jake’s, kissing his shoulders and starting to move down his spine while he kept making pleasant noises. “Besides, it’s not just Sunday, it’s Father’s Day. And I’ve gotta show some appreciation for my favorite father.”

“Fine.” Jake let his eyes droop when Ari nuzzled into the small of his back, snorting when he kissed that damn tattoo like he always did before he nipped at his ass and slid under the covers. “But I’m gonna sleep while you eat me out.”

“Grumpy boy.” Ari started rubbing Jake’s ass cheeks before spreading them apart, kissing his little pink hole gently a few times until he heard Jake whine. “Just as long as Daddy gets a good blowjob from you once you’re awake. I’m sure we have plenty of time before the kids…”

“No!” As soon as Ari said something one of the babies stirred on the monitor and the sound of running feet filled the house, making Jake snarl at his husband even as he started licking his asshole. “You just had to say it.”

Ari didn’t have a chance to respond before their door was flung open by Isaac and Eli who were shouting “happy Father’s Day” at the top of their lungs. Jake tried to turn over but couldn’t with his bear holding down the lower half of his body, and said bear had to flatten himself out as much as possible so their children couldn’t see where he was and what he was doing.

“Where’s Pop?” Jake was bright red when Eli asked him that, fighting the urge to punch the lump in the sheets when he felt Ari chuckling against his hip. “We’re making you breakfast!”

Jake’s concern about his wild sons operating cooking appliances disappeared when Ransom walked into the room, though he did get even more red when the man smirked as he took in the extra lumpy blankets.

“You little dudes go wash your hands, c’mon. Give your dad a chance to wake up.” Ransom leaned against the door frame and grinned wickedly after the twins ran out of the room. “Morning Jake. Morning Ari.”

“Morning pretty boy.” Ari beamed at the man after flinging the blankets off his head, ignoring his husband’s scolding glare as he kept kissing his perky ass. “Where’s gorgeous?”

“Feeding the dumplings.” Ransom nodded to the monitor so they could see you sitting in the nursery and holding one of the babies close to your breast. “How long do you two need to finish up here?”

“Fifteen minutes?” Ari hushed Jake and smacked his ass when he tried to turn over again. “I guess I can wait to get my dick sucked until tonight.”

“Aww, the sacrifices you make for your kids.” Ransom sniffed the air and swore under his breath before turning and running down the hall. “Rach! That had better be toast I smell burning! I said no using the stove without me!”

“Oh god… Jesus!” Jake’s concern about what their children were getting up to disappeared when Ari buried his face between his cheeks again, arching his back and moaning while his tongue swirled around his tight pink hole. “Ugh, that feels so good.”

“I know, baby.” Ari purred as he gave one of Jake’s cheeks a gentle bite. “Now hush and let me enjoy my fifteen minute meal.”

Jake’s legs were a little wobbly by the time they made it downstairs twenty minutes later, a huge grin on his face when he saw the smorgasbord the kids had laid out for them.

“Wow, pancakes and waffles and French toast, you guys went all out.” Jake sighed when Ari kissed his temple when they walked into the dining room, his heart melting at the kids all covered in flour as they ran to hug their dads. “You guys are the best kids ever, I’ve gotta kiss all of you.”

“Oh no, dad!” The twins tried to wriggle away when Jake kissed the tops of their heads, escaping when he embraced Rachel only to be scooped up by Ari in a bear hug. “Pop!”

“It’s Father’s Day, you have to accept all of our affection, it’s the rule!” Ari laughed when they kept squirming until he let go of them, giving Rachel her own hug and smiling at Ransom when he came in holding Micah on his hip. “Hey bubba! Can you say ‘happy Father’s Day’?”

“Happy day!” Micah squealed when Ari scooped him out of Ransom’s arms and kissed his chubby cheeks, grabbing onto his beard and pulling playfully. “Happy day, papa!”

“Aw, what about me?” Jake beamed when Micah screamed for him to have a happy day as well, kissing his forehead while Ari strapped him into the high chair while he sat next to Rachel and helped her pile some pancakes onto her plate as Ransom tried to wrangle the twins. “Thank you for this, Ran. Did you guys thank your uncle?”

All of the kids said thank you as loud as they could before starting to stuff their faces, shouting again with their mouths full to say hello to you when you walked into the room somehow holding all three babies at once until Ari stood up to help you.

“Happy Father’s Day, boys!” You handed Caleb to Ari and Shiloh to Jake before sitting down with Naomi in your lap, shaking your head when your husband just let the twins climb all over him. “All three dumplings are fed and very happy. I think we have some presents for you to open.”

“Presents?” Jake laughed when the three older kids all ran to go get the gifts with a chorus of happy yells, the dogs running after them when they charged back into the room with their gifts. “Look at these, did you guys wrap them yourselves?”

Their affirmative answers were obvious from the haphazard folds in the wrapping paper and excessive tape, but they were the most beautiful presents either of them had ever seen. They got homemade cookies with paw prints in them from ‘the pets’ and gave exuberant thanks for them after you whispered that they were sanitary and safe for consumption in Ari’s ear. Ari cooed over the beard grooming kit and hiking guides, and Jake had to kiss the kids all over again when he got his book of dad jokes and a t-shirt that said ‘Dad Jokes, That’s How Eye-Roll’. And they both started crying when the giant photo board was revealed, much to the kids’ embarrassment.

“Okay, let’s all go clean up the dishes so we can go on a hike!” Ransom kissed the top of your head as he stood up, sighing when he got a look at the twins sprinting towards the kitchen with handfuls of silverware. “Little dudes, no running with the cutlery, c’mon!”

“Did you guys like your presents?” You bounced Naomi on your lap while she babbled happily, smiling at Jake and Ari when they nodded and reaching out to let Micah hold on to your finger when he pouted at you. “Well, you deserve them. You are the best dads.”

“We couldn’t do a lot of it without you and Ran, honey.” Ari cradled Caleb against his chest while he snored softly, leaning forward and kissing your cheek while watching Jake kiss Shiloh out of the corner of his eye. “Especially with these three. Do you need to pump at all?”

“No, I did last night and they emptied me out when I got here.” Naomi squealed and flailed her arms and you couldn’t help but smile. “Speaking of me and Ran, I have something to tell you that I need you to keep secret.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake grinned when Shiloh tried to snatch his glasses off before blowing a raspberry against her stomach while she kicked her chubby little legs. “Is this a good secret or a bad secret?”

“It’s a very good secret.” You lowered your voice when you heard Ransom bellow from the kitchen as one of the kids sprayed him with water. “We made the mutual decision that I wasn’t going to go back on my birth control but we didn’t really think about the fact that I’m not exclusively breastfeeding and well… I was late. And I took a test and…”

#natalie writes #no love like your love #bear and cubby #ari levinson #jake jensen #jake jensen x ari levinson #ari levinson x jake jensen #the quadrouple #ransom drysdale #female reader #the jensen-levinsons #chris evans #chris evans character #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #chris evans character fanfiction #eighteen plus

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 9 months

Text

A Shot of Jealousy

Part of my 900 Followers Celebration!

Request: So I am absolutely OBSESSED and in love with your writing! If you're still doing the Roy Kent (because there is NOT enough of that man) could I get a Roy x Reader and ❛ i’m not jealous. ❜ all the fluffy angst!

Roy Kent x Reader

0.7k words

Warnings: Language, drinking, suggestive references

Keeley had insisted on going out to a club to celebrate your birthday. You’d agreed, but only if Roy came. Your boyfriend had rolled his eyes, grumbling something about old men looking stupid in clubs, but once he saw the tight little outfit you planned to wear, he quickly changed his tune.

Getting Roy to the club was accomplishment enough. You didn’t bother asking him to dance; that’s what Keeley and the Greyhounds were for. Roy was content to sit at the bar and watch you enjoy yourself, ready to hand you a drink when you approached him for a breather and a kiss.

He didn’t mind seeing you dance with the Greyhounds. They were always respectful and kind to you, mostly because that was just how they were, but also because they all held a deep fear of Roy. So, no wandering hands or eyes, no grinding close, no whispering flirtatiously in your ear. Just dancing and laughing, the perfect way to spend a birthday with friends.

Knowing you were tiptoeing into drunk territory, Roy turned to the bartender to ask for some water, figuring he should get you to drink at least a little so you wouldn’t be too miserable in the morning. When he turned back around so he could wave you over, he frowned at what he saw.

No longer on the dance floor where he’d last seen you with Isaac, you were standing by a table where a guy- probably a good ten years younger than Roy- was pointing at the birthday crown Keeley had given you as you nodded, all friendly smiles. The guy waved over a passing waitress, who quickly disappeared and came back with a pair of shots. You toasted with the guy, took the shot, and high-fived him before pointing in Roy’s direction, still cheerful. Roy felt a sort of smug satisfaction when he saw the guy’s grin falter, but that feeling disappeared when he caught the guy watching you walk away.

Roy still wore his frown when you sauntered up to him, looking almost sickeningly in love with the gaffer as you looped your arms around his waist.

“Having fun?” you asked, oblivious to the tightness in his chest as he lazily returned your embrace.

“Are you?” he answered, hoping he sounded like a supportive boyfriend and not a jealous prick.

You nodded, planting a kiss on his scruffy chin, too tipsy to bother finding his mouth. “Of course.” Your eyes, simultaneously tired and animated, studied his face carefully, taking in his flushed face and clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. You glanced over your shoulder to follow his gaze, realizing he was glaring at the man who’d just bought you a shot, the man who was now pretending he didn’t notice Roy fucking Kent giving him the death glare.

Oh.

“Roy-o,” you purred, turning back to your boyfriend. “Are you jealous?”

“What?” His gaze snapped back to you, no longer murderous but definitely still tense. “Fuck no. I’m not jealous. Why the fuck would I be jealous?”

Pushing down the urge to giggle, you shrugged, all fake innocence as you batted your eyelashes at him. “That’s too bad. If you were jealous, I’d have to get you home and prove to you why you never have to be jealous when it comes to me.”

His grip on your hips tightened, eyebrows raised. “In that case, I’m quite fucking jealous. Probably going to need a good bit of convincing.”

Before you could make another flirty comment, Keeley appeared, eyes sparkling. “Come on, you two, the guest of honor is required on the dance floor again.” She pried your hands from Roy’s body, tugging you away.

You looked up at Roy “Dance with me?” With your eyes wide and lips barely parted, Roy knew he couldn’t say no.

Sure enough, his eyeroll was full of affection as he left his spot at the bar. “One dance. Then I’m taking you home so you can show me why I never have to be jealous.”

But Roy knew it wouldn’t be just one dance. Just like he already knew, deep down, that he never had to be jealous, not with the way you looked at him as he held you close on the dance floor.

Even so, you had to admit to yourself- seeing Roy Kent jealous was a damn good birthday gift.

#900 followers celebration #request ❤️#he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 2 months

Note

Hear me out!

Drunk SVE adventurer (bonus Camilla and Magnus). Imagine them being so so drunk, they started to talk/do weird stuffs around the farmer, like it would be hilarious.

Additional idea, which one of them would get drunk easily?

I heard you out, dear anon, and your idea is wonderful! Thank you so much for the inspiration and I hope you enjoy this little hc ☺️❤️ (I also added Jadu, hope it's ok 😃)

_________________________________________

Lance:

Lance handles his alcohol pretty well, so it takes at least two or three bottles of good strong wine to notice a difference in his behavior. He becomes more energetic and flirtatious, and more persistent in gaining attention if his drunken ass sees the object of his admiration (*cough cough* Farmer). That said, his tongue will not lash out and his speech will remain confident. At times, the pink-haired adventurer may utter a phrase that his conscience and upbringing would not allow when sober. He would break a couple of minor rules by showing Farmer magic he shouldn't have used without a good reason, but Lance is usually forgiven (privileged bitch). Will get up in the morning without a hangover, and won't forget to apologize if he went too far in last night's binge.

Isaac:

In Isaac's case, the mood varies: the silent adventurer will either finally shed his mask of the perpetually frowning monster hunter and have a little fun, or he will completely withdraw into himself and just get drunk, not really wanting to talk to anyone. How he will behave depends on the situation, the company and the place where he empties the mugs of beer. His attitude towards the Farmer also varies. He may yell at them, or he may pull them in by the collar to have a drink with him. If the Farmer is at all lucky, Isaac will share stories from his past and won't punch Farmer in the face if they asks questions about his life. He becomes louder and more aggressive after the third bottle of strong liquor, and he will have a terrible hangover, but because of his pride he won't tell anyone about it.

Alesia:

Getting together after a tough mission with friends, drinking stronger beverage, sharing stories and tales of adventures? Alesia will not miss the opportunity to relax in the company, because with her work and huge responsibility such an gathering is very rare. The sniper tolerates strong whiskey or ale quite well, and even with alcohol in the blood will behave calmly and remain "the voice of reason" in the company. If Alesia drinks an extra mug, she will become much more agile and cheerful - starting to tell Farmer and other younglings about her adventures, making toasts more often than anyone else, something like that. But please stop her if she gets the idea of "archery" in this state. Alesia take a hangover like a champ when she wakes up. Another fond memory with a great group of friends and colleagues, it was a good night!

Jadu:

Dedicating most of his free time to studying manuscripts and brewing potions, Jadu rarely drinks alcohol with company, so a few mugs of beer/ale are enough to get him tipsy. The first sips of alcohol give him a boost of energy that can't be compared to anything else - Jadu is ready to conquer mountains and tame dragons! The next sips knock all his bravado away and he becomes very sleepy. Someone's comment about Jadu not being able to handle drink hurts his ego and he demands another mug, proving to everyone that he can (and perhaps secretly showing off in front of Farmer). What happened after the third mug of booze Jadu no longer remembers, as he woke up in bed with a headache. Some say he was wild, others say he just passed out and fell asleep. Who to believe now is unclear.

Camilla:

If this woman allowed herself to do as she pleased when sober, after a couple of bottles of the best wine, Camilla will party like it's her last chance. Magical banter, table dancing, arguing and coaxing someone to kiss/flirt/kick someone. Will pay special attention (hell knows why) to the Farmer and start dragging them into dodgy adventures. A magic carpet ride? No problem, she'll conjure it up and you can get on and fly! Want to see mythical creatures? One snap of the fingers and a griffin or some other beast will appear. In the morning, the witch is not afraid of a hangover: one elixir - and the headache is like a hand removed. With a smug smile Camilla will walk around her domain, help others with fixing broken things after the "night", and no one will do anything to her for mischief.

Magnus Rasmodius:

Magnus is probably the most careful and responsible of the whole company when it comes to alcohol. Because he knows very well that after an extra glass of wine he can become quite chatty (and maybe a little sad). Noisy parties are preferred to quiet gatherings in his tower or in the forest. Farmer might notice, while drinking wine with the wizard, that the more glasses Magnus drains, the stranger the atmosphere becomes. They probably question their own ability to withstand alcohol, but Magnus will assure them that it's his magic just... slightly out of control. Because of the wine. Not a big deal, but it looks pretty funny. And beautiful - magic in the air. Magnus won't go wild and drink more than he can handle, so don't expect anything weird from him.

#sve #stardew valley expanded #sve lance #sve isaac #sdv wizard #sdv rasmodius #sve magnus #sve camilla #sve jadu #sve alesia #sdv #sve headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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whump-tr0pes · 5 months

Text

Breakfast, Part 2

Many thanks to @newbornwhumperfly for being so generous in letting me put their boy Morja in Situations, and many apologies to them as well for holding onto this story for so many months while waiting for me to finish it.

My masterlist

Morja is a diathésimos, one of a class of indentured servants owned by society’s elite - though some would call them slaves. He has been tasked with a mission of critical importance by his anóteros: to infiltrate a dangerous family that has taken refuge in the north, and kill the criminal that they are harboring: Gavin Stormbeck.

“It is your part to kill me, mine to die without flinching.”

— Epictetus, from Discourses (Translated by Robert Dobbin)

Contents: captivity, conditioned whumpee, Breakfast, past drugging, past offscreen deaths of children, fear of noncon

The dining room was so quiet, Morja could hear everyone breathing. His hands shook in fists in his lap, and he stared at his plate, heaped high with scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. He had only taken a few scraps from the kitchen before Gray had gently removed the plate from his hands and piled more food on. His face burned with shame at the prospect of eating so much food, and while seated at the table, surrounded by the people he knew to be traitors to his anóteros.

Gray sat at the head of the table, on one side of Morja. Vera sat on his other side. Isaac Moore and Gavin Stormbeck sat at the opposite end of the table, but Morja made no mistake; he knew that Vera Novak was as deadly a fighter as Isaac, and he also knew she was armed. Not with a gun, but with a knife, slipped into the sleeve of her shirt. He’d seen it while she took a scoop of eggs in the kitchen. He didn’t know the meaning of Gray letting him out of his room, but he understood the meaning of Vera sitting next to him: make one wrong move, step out of line, and his life would be forfeit.

In some small, strange way, it was comforting. It was the life he knew.

His muscles were so tightly wound that he flinched when Gray raised their hand. “Dig in, everyone, while it’s still hot,” they said brightly. Morja flushed with shame at the flinch and couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting to Gavin Stormbeck at the end of the table. The Stormbeck heir looked away from him with an unreadable expression. Morja swallowed hard and began to eat.

The food couldn’t be drugged or poisoned this time. He had seen the family take from the same dishes he had. His hand trembled only minutely as he took up his fork and scooped up a small bite of eggs. It was just as delicious as every other morning.

They’ve been preparing the same food for me as they’ve been eating. The same quality.

The thought made Morja dizzy.

“Good?” came a soft voice Morja didn’t recognize.

His head snapped up and he met the gaze of Sam Vasterling. They were seated across from him, curls wild about their head, eyes soft and dark with… something Morja didn’t recognize. It was something like worry, he thought. What struck him was how very young they looked. Younger than they looked in all the surveillance photos he had pored over in their dossier.

A traitor, still, he thought, forced himself to think. They’ve committed crimes that make them as dangerous to the North as any of the others. And some day, they may pay the price. I may be the one to make them pay the price.

I’ve been the one to put a child down before, and Sam Vasterling is no child.

His throat was so tight he could not even swallow. The food was trapped in his throat. He shivered, tried again, forced the eggs down.

“Y-yes,” he croaked. “Thank you.”

A thin smile passed over Sam’s face, and that smile was still warmer than any expression Morja had ever seen south of this house. “I did the eggs today,” Sam said. “So I was hoping you’d like them better. I add more cheese.”

A thin finger of fear traced the back of Morja’s neck. Was this just a game, too? A hint? Was the food drugged? He was exhausted, so, so tired of trying to think his way through these puzzles. He let his eyes fall shut as the bone-deep weariness rose up to crush him. He wished, in that moment, to be told of his infraction and what his punishment would be. Then, at least, he would know, and the punishment would have an end.

He forced his eyes back open. He didn’t know what else to do but nod and bow his head. Obediently, he took another bite of food, bacon this time.

As if they could read his mind, Gray cleared their throat and said, “None of us have any plans or intention to harm you, Morja.”

This time, Morja swallowed carefully. A weight tugged at his lungs, crushing them, until his head was spinning. All he could do was nod again.

“Thank you, Gray,” he whispered, through a throat far too tight to speak. At the end of the table, Gavin Stormbeck drew in a deep breath. Morja’s stomach turned, but he took another bite.

“What I do have plans for today,” Gray said–

–Morja’s stomach heaved, and he nearly brought up the breakfast he had eaten so far–

–“is to finish repairs on that back corner of the barn.”

Morja shivered, and his stomach unclenched. Sweat prickled under his shirt.

Isaac nodded tightly. “I can help,” he said, his eyes on his plate.

Vera huffed. “Guess that means I’m on Uriah duty.” She shrugged and arranged some slices of bacon atop a piece of toast.

Morja’s brow furrowed as he looked from Vera to Gray. It made sense for this family’s anóteros to demand a constant guard… but Isaac Moore seemed to be the one fulfilling that task today, not Vera.

Sam cleared their throat, and Morja was startled to discover that they were looking at him as they did. “Not… she means Gavin Uriah.”

Morja blinked, not understanding. Does Gray have a son?

“Me,” Gavin Stormbeck said dully from the end of the table. “She means me.”

Morja’s eyes widened as he glanced at Gavin Stormbeck, then back at his plate. Isaac’s words and rage from the night Morja was captured clicked inside Morja.

“No, Gavin Stormbeck, pl–”

“Don’t call him that.”

Morja’s throat tightened, and he swallowed again. He didn’t have to understand it. He didn’t have to understand how these people thought. His anóteros had told him their way of thinking was sick, twisted, broken.

And yet–

Gray cleared their throat, and Morja flinched. Blood rushed to his face at the shame of it, at the humiliation of such a sound causing such a movement in a body built to be a weapon. He held perfectly still and waited. Waited.

“That sounds fine, Vera,” was all Gray Uriah said.

For a long time, the table was silent, with the only sounds being the clinking of forks against plates. Morja took a bite of his breakfast - his hot and delicious breakfast - and another, and another, until his plate was empty. Slowly, the others at the table began to talk of things he didn’t understand, people he didn’t know, events he had never heard of. There was a lull in the conversation, and he opened his mouth.

“E-excuse me,” he croaked, and everyone fell silent. His hands shook, and he placed them flat on the table.

“Yes, Morja?” Gray said gently, and he could feel their soft gaze on his face.

Morja’s throat worked even as terror shuddered through him. Still, he forced himself to speak. “What is it that… you might want as repayment? For the privilege? Of…” He bowed his head, wishing that he could drop to his knees beside Gray. But Gray had said they didn’t like it when he did that, and he was terrified if he moved, Vera would leap forward with her knife. “In what way can I… repay…?”

He had to be polite. Even in this den of vipers, he had to be polite. Even once they began to hurt him, he knew he had to be polite. He could not be ungrateful for what he had been given so far.

Even if they wanted to repay him by bending him over this table and–

“Well, we usually share the task of doing dishes,” Gray said. Morja was startled to realize he had not breathed since he asked his question, and he slowly drew in a breath. “If you like, you can help us with the dishes.”

“Yes, please,” Morja said, bowing his head even deeper. “I would like to do that… please.” Especially if it spared him from paying them back in… other ways.

He wanted to be useful.

“Well, then,” Gray said as they carefully got up. “Vera, you and Morja and I could go to the kitchen?”

“Sure thing,” Vera said, in a tone that sounded almost flippant. She grabbed her plate and sauntered into the kitchen.

“Morja, if you’ll take your plate and come with me?” Gray said as they followed her in.

Morja obeyed, making his movements as slow and careful as possible without seeming like he was dawdling. He cut a wide berth around the table, keeping his gaze down and away from Isaac Moore. Still, he could feel the other diathésimos’s eyes burning into him, and he knew without having to look that Isaac Moore’s hand was on his weapon.

Once in the kitchen, Gray smiled as they took Morja’s plate. A chill clutched Morja’s chest.

“I’ll wash your plate,” Gray said. “And you can wash Vera’s. And Vera will wash mine.”

Morja nodded and did what he was told. Orders. Orders were good. He took the plate Vera handed him and turned to the sink to wash it. The water was warm, then hot - he wondered if he would ever be given a cold shower here, like with his anóteros. For now, he had just been bathing with the wet rag he had been given each day.

When Vera’s plate was clean, Gray washed Morja’s plate. Morja’s stomach twisted with the wrongness, but… it had been an order. Then Vera washed Gray’s plate. The whole time, her body was turned towards Morja. He knew exactly why, and he understood.

When those dishes were drying in the rack, Gray gave him a smile. “Back to your room, then?” they said. Morja swallowed hard and nodded.

Then he was led back to his room, and the door was locked again. His belly was full. His bruises were healing.

@womping-grounds , @free-2bmee , @quirkykayleetam , @walkingchemicalfire , @inpainandsuffering , @redwingedwhump , @burtlederp , @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments , @whumpywhumper , @stxck-fxck , @whumps-the-word , @justplainwhump , @finder-of-rings , @inky-whump , @thatsthewhump , @orchidscript , @this-mightaswell-happen , @newandfiguringitout , @whumpkitty , @pretty-face-breaker , @cinnamonflavoredhugs , @pebbledriscoll , @im-just-here-for-the-whump , @endless-whump , @grizzlie70 , @oops-its-whump , @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite , @carnagecardinal , @annablogsposts , @suspicious-whumping-egg

#honor bound au #morja and company #athena/raye crossover #captivity #conditioned whumpee #Breakfast #past drugging #past death of children #fear of noncon

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

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OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS | COLLECTION

* i do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, reposted or translated (without my knowledge)

TV SHOWS & MOVIES MASTERLIST

Here you’ll find the collection of all my fics written for characters portrayed by Oscar Isaac

🔮 personal favorite || ☔️ smut || 🤧 angst || 🧁 fluff || 🩸 dark content

ONESHOTS.

Soft Dark Nothing- Steven Grant x fem!reader 🔮☔️🤧

Steven’s been suffering from nightmares for a while now, you should’ve known better than to startle him awake.

Citrus Light| Steven grant x fem!reader☔️

You love the city especially at night.

The way the cold wind brushes the loose strands out of your face, the way it rouses goosebumps across your skin. You love the lights, they remind you of the stars but instead of the sky they decorate the very earth you walk on. You look down on the city from the rooftop, everything seems so tiny.

let me follow| steven grant x gn!reader - oneshot | mailcarrier may server collab 🧁

deciding that dating your postman would probably be unwise, you go out with a guy your friends set you up with. After a couple of shitty dates, Steven brings you a letter. You open it only to see that the guy had written you a long break up letter and telling all the things you did wrong on the dates. Furious by this, you invite Steven inside.

make your tea and your toast- jake lockley x fem!reader🔮☔️

your first time meeting jake lockley. an alter neither steven nor marc knows about.

stupid for you | steven grant x reader ☔️

steven wants you to admit he's the best you ever had, as always you don't make it easy for him

is forever for you? | jake lockley x reader

jake is always eager to teach.

DRABBLES.

Tongue Tied- Steven Grant x fem!reader x Marc Spector 🧁

Steven is helplessly and undeniably in love with you, simple as that.

He enjoys talking to you, going to the movies with you, sleeping with you…He worships the very soil you walk on. Some would say he’s a little bit too in love but honestly who cares? Steven had you and that was all that mattered to him.

Don’t Start Now- Marc Spector x archeologist fem!reader 🤧

Sweat drips down your forehead as you desperately try to follow Marc. The streets of Cairo are crowded as always, people bumping into you from every direction possible. Licking your lips, you reach out and grab the back of Marc’s jacket. He grumbles, clearly annoyed by you trailing him like a puppy.

Walking On Sunshine- Steven Grant x gn!reader 🧁

Steven nervously stared at you from the top of his glasses. He was labeling the new products, or what he liked to call them junk, and was bored out of his wits. It was a tedious job and strained his eyes, which was the reason he was wearing his thick framed glasses. But his tedious day was quickly being proved not to be tedious anymore as you walked in through the glass doors. You had caught his glance, nodding as a small smile formed against your lips– Steven almost had a heart attack at that very moment.

Love Me More - Marc Spector x fem!reader ☔️

marc wants you to prove how much you want him.

You Appearing - Steven Grant x fem!reader 🧁

Steven finds you on his doorstep, crying and needing a place to stay.

Flatline- Marc Spector x gn!reader 🧁

when the passionate night comes to a close and it’s time to resume normal life, marc is there to pick you up.

Heavy in Your Arms - Marc Spector x f!reader ☔️

‘literally come here so I can cover you in bite marks & hear you moan uncontrollably’

SERIES.

I’ve Got You Darlin’ - Moonknight x f!reader x Din Djarin 🔮☔️🤧

you find yourself in the middle of a dangerous race of who will steal priam’s treasure first; a mysterious cloaked figure who calls himself moon knight or a man in clad armor who calls himself the mandalorian. amongst the chaos, you and steven try to protect the remnants of history.

ONESHOTS.

save tonight(feat. frankie morales) ☔️

frankie comes with you with a proposal that you're eager to accept.

3 AM ☔️

santi comes to your room for a visit at 3 AM.

DRABBLES.

Already Gone ☔️

Both of your glistening bodies are buried in the darkness, only the light from outside reflecting against your skin. It’s always the same. He disappears for months. Comes back. Fucks you. Holds you. Makes you breakfast in the morning. Then leaves for another series of months. This time you're set on not giving him what he wants; your voice.

SERIES.

Watercolor Eyes ☔️

your adventures with sex worker santiago "pope" garcia

Poison & Wine (feat.din djarin) ☔️

the razor crest is low on fuel and din knows the perfect pit spot.

ONESHOTS.

Pumpkin Seeds ☔️

you and poe fin yourself on a pumpkin infested planet, however the flowers that surround them seem to be poisonous.

Arise Sun ☔️

William Tell is a dangerous man. You should’ve known better than to piss him off.

Let Me Wrap My Teeth ☔️

after finding him wounded in an empty alleyway, against your better judgment, you decide to patch him up in your apartment. you expect that to be the end of it, never to see him again, that is, until you do.

Codeborn ☔️

artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

there are codeborns and codebreakers. In this world ruled by ai and the people who want to keep it that way, codebreakers fight for freedom while the feared codeborns (ai-enchanced humans) do everything to keep the so-called 'peace'. You are one of the codebreakers, hunted by one of the most menacing codeborn yet, miguel o'hara.

#oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac characters x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #duke leto x reader #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac characters masterlist

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briwates · 5 months

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Observations from ep 3 and 4 (not doing these in any order, just noting things downs as I rewatch some eps from time to time)

gaon picks at the lock of the basement door with yohan's german-made scissors

when yohan meets cha gyeonghui in a parking lot (the 1st time), he makes allusion to K's father committing suicide due to false allegations of corruption; however I'm quite sure that later on in the series it's stated that he died due to false SA charges. Retconned point in K's backstory ?

cha gyeonghui talks loud as hell on the phone 😭 sunah's reaction after the call made me giggle

there's a metronome in yohan's childhood room, and a cd player (musically inclined yohan ? or is one of isaac's old things)

there's also something that ressembles a small bath/sink ? like there's the white sink where he probably washed his face and hands, a bathtub separated from the room with a wooden door, and another rectangular sink that looks just big enough to bathe a baby

middle school yohan's backpack is purple/indigo blue. cute detail

while gaon walks around the house, he's wearing the shirt yohan put on with the suspenders in ep 15

still about clothes, the suit yohan gets out of the drawers for gaon in ep 4 before the gala is dark blue, but the one he ends up wearing is black ? either it's the light of the dressing that made it look like that or they changed the suit last minute.

gaon and yohan both get into the parking lot with mussed hair ? girl was there wind down the stairs or something. and then when they arrive to the gala their hair is perfect again. maybe they combed it again in the car

yohan wears his outside shoes in the house and on the carpets, in the study, in the guest room, in the kitchen AND in his own damn bedroom 😭 it's probably because the house is so big or a detail they didn't bother with on set while filming but either way.......

also gaon walks around the house barefoot and then goes back to bed. granted, yohan didnt give him slippers.

ms ji has roombas to help her with the floor cleaning,

gaon made toast for elijah before he cooked breakfast for the whole family. that means he 1) went through the pantry and the fridge 2) looked into the cupboards to find the ustensils, pans, pots, and that little container where he put the toast, all without asking yohan. free real estate

gaon being able to make gilgeori toast means there is fresh produce in the house, despite Ms Ji not being allowed to cook. Yohan probably knows how to cook something, he just doesn't have time

Yohan gets surprised at Elijah having the same tastes as him (the premade beef and rice)....does that mean they disconnected so much that he doesnt know her favourites anymore ? 😭

this shot was in the preview of ep 3 but wasn't used in ep 4 during the gala scene. either way.......i am looking

#the devil judge #tdj thoughts #xyz #downed the glass in one go oh he needed the wine to go through that whole ordeal without wringing someone's neck #ji sung is so pretty zhekjlkzz #long post im sorry there's so many little details to take note of !!

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blueraineshadows · 6 months

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Brothers Part 11

Garreth Weasley 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Oscar Weasley

A love rivalry between two brothers. Oscar Weasley is an OC created by @eternalremorse and used with her permission.

Chapter Master List with Ao3 link

Chapter Eleven - Loss

The concept of being alone whilst surrounded by people was a new one for Oscar. It was isolating to feel so disconnected, and yet his friends were all around him, laughing, discussing the tactics they would be practising later on the Quidditch pitch after classes. The Great Hall was abuzz with chatter, and students were making a start on the day. And yet, Oscar sat, his breakfast untouched, his eyes drifting towards the Hufflepuff table. She wasn't there. Her absence was a reminder of what had happened last night.

He tried to smile, to shut off the ache that had formed in his chest that was akin to the cold, hard substance of a Bludger. The loss. Only, this Bludger he couldn't smash away with his bat. This one sat and festered, and he couldn't swallow past it without wanting to scream. Fists clenched he got up from the table, ignoring the looks from his teammates as he stalked from the Great Hall. Why bother trying to speak when he had nothing to say?

He had lost her. MC had walked away from him, and he just wanted her to come back.

....*....

On first entering the Great Hall that morning, Garreth's eyes had immediately landed on the Hufflepuff table only to face the realisation that MC was not there. Again. Did the girl never eat anymore? Sighing with his disappointment, he made his way to the Gryffindor table and took a seat next to Leander, dropping his journal down and grabbing several slices of toast.

"Morning, Lee," he greeted, stifling a yawn. "What are you up to today?"

Leander paused in spooning his porridge and smiled at Garreth. "Beasts, History of Magic and Quidditch practice. You? Party planning? I heard you were cooking up some brews."

Garreth smirked. "I'm meeting Seb later to work on them, actually."

Leander scowled. "You've got rather friendly with Sallow lately. What's that all about?"

"He's not that bad once you get to know him. He's been... helping me out. Plus, it means I get to spend more time with MC when I'm with him."

Leander huffed and glanced over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table where Sebastian and Poppy were huddled together, giggling and eating breakfast whilst trying to keep their hands respectable.

"He's got his paws all over Sweeting again," he huffed. "I'm surprised he has the time to hang around with you, or MC. Speaking of which, what's going on with MC lately? There's definitely something up with her and Oscar. She turned up at the common room last night looking a bit peaky. She asked for Oscar, and I don't think it went well, judging by the look on his face this morning."

Garreth frowned and looked up the table, Leander following his gaze as they took in Oscar's grim expression, his breakfast untouched. Leander was right. Oscar did not look happy. He gave Leander a curious glance. His fellow Gryffindor was usually up on the gossip. He didn't know how he did it, but Leander just seemed to discover and remember all sorts of tidbits about their peers.

"Did they fight?" Garreth asked, his stomach sinking as his thoughts flicked towards Trixie. Had she said something? Is that why MC was avoiding everyone?

Leander shrugged. "No idea, mate. Your brother isn't talking to anyone, but I wouldn't be surprised. I mean, look at him."

Garreth did look and felt a guilty sinking feeling in his stomach. He toyed with his slice of toast as he thought of all the times he had imagined Oscar not being with MC, and now that there were signs of trouble, he realised how awful that was. He didn't want his brother to be unhappy.

Oscar looked tired, pale, and very glum as he stood and left the table. Isaac called after him, but Oscar ignored his friend. Isaac and Felix, another Quidditch team member, exchanged a puzzled look, but nobody went after Oscar to see if he was alright.

Garreth dropped his toast onto his plate, lamenting the empty stomach he was going to have as he climbed from the bench. He grabbed up his journal and glanced towards Leander.

"I will catch up with you later, Lee," he said and plucked an apple from the bowl on the table. "Enjoy your breakfast."

He chased after Oscar, dodging other students whilst trying to keep his eyes on his brother's copper locks. He followed him out into the bright sunlight, the sky clear, and the air crisp as they crossed the courtyard.

"Oscar, wait!"

His brother paused and turned, a frown on his face before his shoulders slumped. Garreth slowed his steps, a little wary. Oscar was generally an easygoing boy, but there was a temper that simmered quietly beneath that charming exterior. He'd been on the receiving end of it more than a few times growing up. His ability to wind his siblings up had often landed him with a thump or a dunking in the rain barrel.

But Oscar was family. And family always stuck together, no matter what. They always made up in the end.

Garreth wondered if he was reminding himself of this because of a guilty conscience. If Trixie really had whispered her suspicions, then Oscar was going to be pissed at him. While he hadn't actually done anything wrong, his private fantasies that played out in his head were shamefully guilty.

"Are you alright, Oscar? You don't look too happy. Anything I can help you with?"

His questions were tentative, his fingers clutching at his journal as he eyed his brother. Oscar lifted an eyebrow, his mouth twisting bitterly. "You mean to say you haven't heard?"

Garreth frowned. "Heard what?"

Oscar gave him a closer look before looking away, his eyes betraying a glimmer of hurt.

"MC and I broke up."

Garreth's lips parted in surprise at those words, the flat, emotionless tone with which they were spoken worrying him more than anything. Oscar's face was tight, his body rigid. He was closing himself off, and Garreth reached for his arm, squeezing it gently.

"I'm sorry, Oscar. I didn't know," he said, his mouth twisting sadly.

Oscar's eyes narrowed a little. "You surprise me. Aren't you two close? You spend a lot of time with her Slytherin bodyguard, too. I bet he knows."

Garreth tugged at his robe sleeve awkwardly, not really liking the bitter tone to Oscar's voice. It didn't ease the worry that Trixie had been whispering in his ear. Also, Oscar was the second person to make a dig about his friendship with Sebastian this morning, and it was getting rather annoying.

"I haven't really spoken to MC much lately," he said, frowning. "She doesn't tell me everything, either. What happened?"

Oscar sighed and held out his hands as if he didn't really know. "She wanted out," he said vaguely.

Garreth hated the flicker of hope that sparked in his chest. MC had left Oscar. Was it so wrong and foolish to wonder if what happened in Hogsmeade was the reason? He had to shove the shameful hope down. His brother was clearly hurting. Now was not the time.

"I'm so sorry," he said. He grabbed Oscar, pulling him in for a quick hug, patting him awkwardly on the back with one hand, his journal in the other. "Let me know if there is anything I can do. Even if it's just to take your mind off things. I'm going off out foraging later if you fancy it. It would get you away from the castle for a bit."

Oscar pulled back away from him and pushed a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"Thanks, Garreth, but I will pass. I've got Quidditch practise later, and to be honest, I am not good company right now."

"Okay," Garreth said, nodding, shifting awkwardly. He considered making a joke, coming up with something funny to try and lighten the mood. He wasn't so good with these situations, and he was never quite sure what to say. However, he thought perhaps a joke would earn him one of Oscar's bruising thumps, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Oscar managed a tight smile and patted him on the shoulder. "I appreciate the offer, though, brother. I will be alright. I just need some time. I really liked her, you know?"

Oh, he knew. Garreth completely understood. He had thought that liking MC from afar and seeing her with someone else was hard sometimes. He could only imagine how it would feel to have her and then lose her.

Oscar's gaze lingered on Garreth’s journal for a moment, his face shadowed and strained. He met Garreth’s eyes, the pain all too evident.

"I'll see you later, Garreth."

As he watched his brother walk away, his robe billowing in the cold breeze, Garreth couldn't help but feel as though he had done something wrong. It settled in his stomach, twisting around with his hunger, and it made a deep rumbling sound. He patted the apple in his pocket but couldn't seem to find the enthusiasm to eat it.

He wondered how MC was doing. Was she as sad as Oscar? If only she didn't hide away. A longing to see her tugged deeply at him. Even through his concern for Oscar, he still ached for her, that tiny flicker of hope hanging on strong.

Realising that his first class of the day was potions, his face brightened, and he hurried back into the castle.

....*....

Waking up and seeing Poppy’s bed still empty seemed to put emphasis on her loneliness as MC crawled out of bed. Her eyes were tight from tears and lack of sleep, her chest heavy. She was already doubting herself and her decision. Maybe she had rushed into it, her panic making her react.

People always left her in some way. Either being left in a children's home, making new friends only for them to move on to new places, or death. She'd had to learn how to be alone. And now that she had people to care about, it felt odd to push one away. Oscar had claimed to care deeply for her. Had she just made a silly mistake? Was she pushing him away to avoid the chance he would do it to her?

But, it was also wrong to be intimately close to someone whilst thinking of another. She could not get past it, no matter how hard she tried. The silly mistake had been allowing herself to fall for the charms of a handsome boy when there had been someone else there all along.

She took out the wooden box that held her letters, going over the ones she had received from Garreth over the summer. His words were not romantic. He had not sought to court her, but they were filled with so much warmth. It made her think of his arms when he had held her, his comfort through her moments of panic and distress. Without judgement or feeling like she was imposing, Garreth was there. He never asked for anything in return.

This was alongside his words spoken during a dance. Those words had been flirty and almost romantic. She could not forget those or the way he had looked at her.

At the bottom of one letter was a small ink drawing of a hummingbird dipping into a flower. He must have drawn it himself, and she smiled as she brushed a finger tip over the beautifully sketched lines. Such beautiful simplicity revealed so much about the boy.

She had made the right decision. As she tucked the letters safely away, her only regret was that even if she did feel something for Garreth, she could neither pursue or allow it. He was Oscar's brother. It wouldn't be right. It filled her with sadness, but she had to do the right thing. She carried enough guilt in her heart.

As she dressed and pondered the idea of breakfast, she realised that coming face to face with Oscar was something she would rather avoid. She had made the right decision, but seeing him would lean on her self-doubt. His eyes were too dangerous, his proximity overwhelming, and she needed to distance herself from that.

There was always fruit in a bowl in the common room, and she settled on an apple and a pear for breakfast before leaving the castle. A walk around the lake to clear her head was in order.

When it was time for class, she made her way back to the castle for potions. She would see Garreth, and she wondered if he knew about her and Oscar already. It was likely.

Outside the castle doors, she came across Sebastian and Poppy, stealing a kiss before heading to class. MC lowered her head, intending to pass them by, but Poppy called out to her. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes dancing with happiness. It felt like a punch to the stomach, and MC couldn't look. She merely lifted a hand in a hurried wave and made a dash for the huge castle doors.

How awful to be jealous of her friend's joy, but there it was.

Avoiding Poppy was one thing. Avoiding Sebastian was another. As MC was about to walk into the potions classroom, a hand grabbed her arm, and Sebastian was leading her into the nearby stair well. With her back to the wall and his frame leaning over her, she looked up into curious brown eyes, his finger under her chin.

"What's happened?"

There was no getting anything past him. He had that stubborn look on his face. He wouldn't let it go until he had it out of her, and he was bound to find out soon enough anyway. She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"Oscar and I have parted ways."

It was the first time she had said it. The words spoken out loud put a final seal on it, and her lips trembled. She tried to look away, but Sebastian held her firm, his eyes darkening at the shine of tears she fought back.

"What did he do?"

"Nothing!" She said immediately, taking hold of his hand and removing it from her chin. "Oscar didn't do anything. It... it was me. I ended it."

Sebastian had this way of looking at you, so penetrative and inquisitive. It locked you into his eyes, and it was very hard to look away. Ever since she had begun to know him, she had been caught under that spell, always unable to do anything but answer to his call.

Once, she had thought it love, and in a way, it was. They were bonded by terrible events and dark secrets, but also by affection and understanding. Nobody knew her like he did, and she suspected it worked both ways. She would do anything for him, and she had done some dubious things already to protect him. He would do it for her, though. She knew that and trusted him with her life.

Sebastian was her family now, a friend who was like a brother through choice rather than blood. She wasn't his lost sister, Anne. Nobody could replace his twin. But they were both orphans and alone in the world. She was glad to have found him.

The way he was looking at her right now was merely his own way of ensuring that nothing bad had happened. He was not a fan of Oscar, had tolerated her relationship with him because he thought it made her happy. Clearly, this was not the case, and Sebastian was in full protective mode.

"Oscar has done nothing untoward, Seb. I'm alright," she assured him. She caught hold of his hand and squeezed. "I just... it didn't feel right, and I thought it best to step away before I got in too deep."

"I can see that you are troubled, and I hate to see it, but as long as you are not hurt. That I can not abide, you know that."

Her gaze softened. "I know that. I am not hurt, just sad."

Sebastian considered her words and then nodded. He slipped his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. His familiar scent really did feel like home, and she gripped the back of his robes, welcoming the push back on the lonely shadow that seemed to hang over her.

"You've done the right thing. Oscar wasn't right for you," Sebastian said, stepping back and patting her shoulder.

She almost smiled at the smug gleam in his eyes. He just loved being right. He took her arm and led her back out into the corridor and towards the potions classroom.

"Maybe now you can stop hiding away from the world and let us see that lovely smile of yours," he said, flashing a smile of his own. "We have party plans to take care of, and only a few days left to do it. Your other love deserves to celebrate coming of age in style."

"Sebastian... " She gave him a warning look. His comment about Garreth being her love a little too close for comfort after pondering over his letters this morning.

Sebastian merely smirked and escorted her through the classroom until they arrived at her workstation, complete with a smiling Garreth.

"Look who I found, Weasley. She hasn't forgotten us after all," Sebastian said, putting his arm around her shoulders for a squeeze. He winked at MC, and her lips twitched. He was too charming for his own good sometimes. He guided her towards the seat next to Garreth with a flourish. "She's all yours now, mate. Take good care of her. She deserves to smile."

MC gaped at Sebastian, her cheeks flushing as he backed up away from the workstation, his smirk unbelievably roguish. She'd hex him later for his audacity, knowing full well it was likely an empty promise, but it felt good to just imagine it for a moment. He knew exactly what he was doing and dared her to say something back with those impish eyes of his.

She turned to Garreth with an awkward glance, taking out her quill and notebook. She couldn't scold Sebastian here in front of Garreth. That could lead to other dangerous topics of discussion, such as the suggestion that she was all Garreth's now.

"Hi," she said, her cheeks far too hot and her awareness of him on full alert.

Garreth's smile lit the green of his eyes, and she felt the warmth of it. There it was. That unrelenting, soft warmth that only he had. Much like the sun, he chased lonely shadows back and surrounded you with light. How did one stay away from that?

"Hello, MC. It's good to see you. Let's see if I can do something about that smile of yours."

As they worked through the lesson, her shadows did indeed lift. They didn't completely disappear. They lingered over her shoulder, but it was easier to bear them with every funny quip, every clumsy mishap. Oscar was mentioned only once, Garreth's sympathetic smile and assurances of support were delivered, and then he moved on, turning the flow of conversation back towards much lighter subjects. It wasn't long before a smile was curving her lips, her gaze lingering maybe a little too long on green eyes and freckled hands.

As they packed up their belongings and prepared to leave class, MC caught Garreth on the arm, pausing his step. He met her eyes with a curious look, and her face softened.

Thank you," she said. "For cheering me up."

"I do my best," he said with a grin.

Sebastian sidled up between them, throwing an arm around each of them as they headed for the door, his smirk firmly in place.

"So then, what's the plan? We have party brews to make. Are you in, MC? We could use some help."

She looked at both boys, their effortless ways of making her feel like she belonged, almost bringing a tear to her eyes. "I'm in," she said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, we need ingredients," Garreth said. "I'm heading out after classes today to gather some."

"Excellent," Sebastian said, tightening his hold on them both and drawing them closer so they were a squished little trio walking along. "Why don't you go with him, MC? Meanwhile, I'm heading into Hogsmeade to have a chat with Sirona. I'm going to reserve the whole upper floor of the Three Broomsticks for the party."

MC met Garreth's eyes across Sebastian. Going with him would mean time spent alone. She should probably say no. It was placing temptation in her path, and so soon after Oscar. But, her head was nodding under the press of Sebastian's tight embrace. "Sure, I'll come along."

Garreth's eyes lit up, and Sebastian chuckled, his own gaze sparking with mischief as he glanced between them. He pressed a kiss to MC's forehead and then turned to do the same to Garreth. Garreth grimaced and tried to fight him off, a giggle bubbling up and out of MC's mouth as they stumbled in the hallway.

Sebastian let them both go with a laugh. He began to head off, turning to point at them both.

"Happy foraging you two, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well, that narrows it down," MC said, rolling her eyes and desperately trying not to blush.

When she looked at Garreth, his cheeks were equally as pink.

"Looks like I will be seeing you later, then," he smiled. "Shall I come to fetch you from your common room when I'm ready?"

She nodded, clutching her bag a little tighter. "I'll see you then."

....*....

The chilly bite in the air meant nothing to Oscar as he swung his Beater bat and cracked it against a Bludger, sending it hurtling across the pitch towards Elijah. His teammate swooped and aimed, smashing the hard ball back towards Oscar. It was good practise to spar against each other, and today, it felt good to release the pent-up emotion that was festering inside him.

He grit his teeth and kept his eye on the Bludger, swinging back and hitting it with all his strength, an angry sound leaving his throat.

All day, through classes and navigating the castle, his eyes had been on alert for just one glimpse of MC. Anything, even if it was just from a distance. He had not spoken one word about it to anyone other than Garreth this morning.

Garreth. Soft, cheeky Garreth, with his romantic drawings, his eyes filled with longing whenever he looked at MC.

Oscar gritted his teeth harder, his head filling with every time he had seen his brother with MC. Garreth wanted her. He had always wanted her. Oscar had always known it, deep down. He recalled the first day of term, arriving in Hogsmeade, the way his brother had stood and watched her board the carriage with Sallow.

Had he deliberately gone after MC because he knew he could? He'd always been competitive, always had to be the best at everything. Had he charmed MC into his arms just so Garreth couldn't?

Maybe. Maybe not. Garreth could have charmed her, too. Maybe he would have won. Oscar had caught her attention, and then he had fallen in deeper than he had expected. MC was beautiful, soft, and so very innocent, but under that was a strength that she kept hidden. She intrigued him, and he had desperately wanted to delve deeper and discover what she so carefully guarded.

Now, he would likely never know. She had slipped from his grasp, and he hated it. Was there a way to try and get her back? How could he reassure her that he had eyes only for her?

The pain of it seemed to hollow out his chest, and he took it out on the Bludgers, working up a sweat that dripped from his forehead, his muscles screaming in protest.

"Easy there, mate. What's got into you?" Isaac said, coming up beside him. "You're running Elijah ragged there."

"Good, we need to be the best," Oscar said. He wiped his forehead and adjusted his grip on his bat. "No pain, no gain. Isn't that what the muggles say?"

Isaac made a stopping motion towards Elijah and used his wand to still the bludger. His piercing blue eyes took in Oscar, and he put a hand on his shoulder.

"What's going on, Os? You're not yourself. Is this about your little Hufflepuff still?"

Oscar's face tightened, and he shrugged off his friend's hand. "Stop calling her that. She isn't mine anymore."

Isaac held both hands up, eyes wary. "Okay, mate. I apologise. And I'm sorry to hear that."

"Are you?" Oscar grimaced. He tossed his bat to the ground and began to stride towards the changing rooms, Issac at his heels. "Last we spoke, you told me to get rid. Well, she saved me a job and ended it for me. I thought you'd be pleased."

"Why would I be pleased? Os... I don't want you to be unhappy," Isaac said. He made a grab for Oscar's arm, face filled with concern as they paused. "Hey, take it easy, mate. I really am sorry."

Oscar glared up at his friend, his anger and pain caught in a swirling ball in his chest, the words just not forming. He knew Isaac meant no harm. He knew it, but his head was clouded. He pulled his arm free and stalked away, shoulders set tight as he headed for the changing rooms. He was done with practise for today.

As he rounded the corner, he hesitated. A small group of girls were gathered near the door, charming little birds to fly around, their soft laughter filling the space. As they looked up towards him, he spotted the sultry gaze of Trixie, and he looked down. Normally, he would flirt, or at least wave, and smile, but he found he couldn't even look at her or any of the other regular girls who hung around the pitch.

Ignoring the girls, he entered the changing room. His habitual charm around the ladies had been a reason MC had pulled away from him. Was he really that untrustworthy? He'd never really looked at it that way before. All the girls that had come before MC hadn't been anything more than a bit of fun. A quick fumble under the stands, steamy kisses in broom cupboards, and late nights twisted in bed sheets.

Feelings had never really come into it, at least not for him, and he just moved on to the next chase. At least, that's what he had done until he met MC.

The feeling of being set aside was a new one, and he turned it over in his mind, considering for the first time that maybe he had made girls feel this way. It was a sobering thought as he pulled off his training gear and headed for the showers. Maybe he was an arsehole after all, not even stopping to consider that his actions might be hurting people. How many girls had he hurt and not even realised? It made him glum to think of it, hating the thought.

He stood under the hot water a while, letting it run over him in the hopes it might wash some of the tension away, but as he shut the water off and grabbed his towel, he realised it was going to take more than a cleansing to move on from this.

He dried off and wrapped the towel about his waist, walking with his head bowed towards the lockers. His thoughts were miles away, and so he was upon her before he even realised Trixie was there. He paused and stared at her sitting on the bench, her hands gripping the edge as she smiled up at him, her eyes soft for once.

She was truly a beautiful girl, her raven hair sleek and soft, her skin flawless and smooth. She knew she was attractive and used it to her advantage, but too often, the sly look in her eyes detracted from her natural beauty. There was a coldness to Trixie that had always made him keep her at arms length. They had shared some rather steamy encounters, but again, he had never looked for anything deeper.

She was always there, though, lingering. He looked into her eyes, the colour a light grey at the moment. She had the strange gift of her eye colour shifting depending on her mood. It had always fascinated him, especially when he had watched them darken with desire.

"Hello," she said. She tilted her head as she considered him, her eyes wandering over his bare chest, lips twitching up into a smirk as she stood. "Did you enjoy your shower? You were in there long enough. I almost came to find you."

"What are you doing here, Trix?" He sighed and moved past her, opening his locker and pulling out his school clothes.

"You don't look yourself, Oscar. I came to see if you're alright."

He stilled, hands on his clothes, his gaze facing into his locker. Suspicion crept over him. Since when did she do the sweet, caring act? He turned to look at her, but there was no calculating gleam in her eyes, just curiosity perhaps.

"I'm fine," he said, dropping his clothes onto the bench beside her. "What do you really want?"

She frowned. "I mean it. I can tell something is upsetting you."

"And you care because...?" He gave her a wry look as he shrugged on his shirt and began to fasten his buttons.

Her chin lifted slightly and she folded her arms. "It's her, isn't it? The little hero. What did she do?"

Oscar shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I'm not in the mood for one of your little games, Trixie. Go on, get yourself out of here so I can get dressed in peace."

"I was right about her, wasn't I? She isn't right for you. She brushed you off and denied you, didn't she? Uptight, little virgin who thinks she is so fucking perfect..."

He saw red. Ever since last night, the pressure had been building, and it finally snapped. He reached out and grabbed Trixie, his hand circling her throat as he slammed her against the lockers with a thud. Trixie didn't even yelp. She merely widened her eyes, her throat working hard against his tight grip. She didn't even attempt to fight him off. She had nerves of bloody iron.

Oscar glared at her, holding her in place, rage seething through him. His fingers didn't squeeze, but it felt strangely powerful and heady to hold her by the throat like this. He shoved the thought aside, not ready to glimpse into that box of ideas and study the implications.

"Shut your mouth," he said coldly. "You don't know anything about what happened between myself and MC, and I won't hear you speak about her that way."

Trixie gripped her hand about his wrist, gulping a little as she adjusted her head, but he didn't let go. Her eyes darkened to almost black, and she smirked.

"My, my. You've got feelings for her, haven't you? Real feelings."

He let her go as if she burned him, turning his back on those probing eyes. "Get out, Trixie."

"You love her," she said, a soft, surprised laugh leaving her lips. "That is a shame, isn't it? Oscar Weasley finally falls for a girl, and she is in love with someone else."

Oscar froze, his back stiffening as he turned his head a little. He could see Trixie in his periphery, stalking like a sleek, black cat. "What?"

"Dont tell me you haven't noticed," she purred. She leaned closer, the soft scent of herbs and incense emanating from her. "Your little hero loves your brother, does she not? They have such chemistry, and as for the way they look at each other... well."

Oscar turned to face her, his own suspicions coming back to him, sliding thickly through his gut with his envy. "What are you talking about?"

Trixie's eyes shifted into a greyish, blue colour, a sad pout on her lips as she touched gentle fingers to his face.

"I'm almost sorry I was right about her, Oscar. She wasn't the best choice for you. She will never be able to give you what you want, especially when she wants Garreth. I always wondered why he kept turning me down. That never happens. It was because of her. I'd bet my last Galleon on it."

Trixie let her hand drop, and she backed up away from him, her eyes still on him, mouth in a little pout. He swallowed, fought against his anger and the pain that twisted sharply in his chest. It would be easy to take that ache out on her, push it until they argued... or fucked.

He shook his head. No. He was done with all that. He needed to change, to try and be better.

"You don't look surprised, sweetheart. You knew all along, didn't you?"

His jaw tightened and he glared at her. "Get out, Trixie. We're done here."

Her lips twisted up into a knowing smile as she backed up further. "Don't be sad for too long, Oscar. She won't be. Trust me."

Oscar gripped his trousers until his knuckles turned white, watching as Trixie strolled out of the changing room without a glance back.

Was she right? Would MC be already moving on? Was he here wallowing in his sadness and pain while she was already thinking of the next path? Just like he had done with all the other girls before her. He sat down on the bench and held his face in his hands. Was this some kind of strange karma?

What would he do if MC and Garreth finally ended up in each other's arms? He'd had his suspicions, and now Trixie had voiced them, perhaps others had noticed too. How had she come to that realisation? What had she seen? He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He was already tormented by the drawings in Garreth's journal that he wasn't supposed to know about. Garreth definitely had feelings for her, and if MC returned them, would he be able to stand it.

His own brother. He felt the sting of tears, and he let them fall.

....*....

The cold seeped through Garreth's layers of clothing and the gloom of the Forbidden Forest felt heavier than usual this afternoon as they made their way along the trail. MC walked just ahead of him, her long hair loose about her shoulders, and a woolly hat pulled low on her head. Like him, she wore a winter coat, the hem reaching the tops of her long boots. Her scarf was of a lovely deep blue, very different from the Gryffindor scarf she had worn for Oscar.

The colour suited her, it complimented her colouring, and he told himself his appreciation of it had nothing to do with the fact that it wasn't Oscar's.

They were making their way under the canopy of trees in companionable silence, their bags already rather full of various potion supplies gathered. The conversation had mainly stuck to the tasks at hand so far, or schoolwork, and Garreth had tried to tempt another smile out of her like he had in potions this morning, but the strained look remained around her eyes. She seemed guarded, on edge, and he watched her carefully.

They came to a clearing and paused. Around the space were discarded items that seemed to show signs of a poacher camp. Garreth’s hand twitched near his wand, his eyes scanning warily as he remembered the last time they had come across enemies under the trees. His duelling practise with Sebastian added a new layer of confidence as he joined MC near a pile of empty cages.

"Whatever they had captured is long gone now," she said, leaning forward to test a cage door to find it unlocked. She glanced around. "I wonder what made them abandon the camp like this."

"Spiders? Maybe even a troll, although there isn't really any damage," he said, moving towards some empty barrels.

"Hmm, it could have been Aurors, I suppose," she said thoughtfully. "One can only hope."

He eyed her a moment, noting the cool determination on her face as she spoke. "Is that something you have thought of doing yourself? I mean, you are more than capable, I'm sure."

With those terrifying abilities of hers, he could imagine her making a rather successful Auror. Although, the thought of her out in the world fighting against the world's darkest wizardkind made him shiver.

"Me? An Auror?" She scoffed. She shook her head. "No, definitely not. I've had my fill of fighting dark wizards, enough to last a lifetime."

"Does that mean you have put some thought into what happens once you leave Hogwarts after all?"

As he came to stand before her, she looked up at him, her lovely eyes looking large and lost in her pale face. When they had spoken of this before, she hadn't been sure what she had wanted.

She fixed him with a long look, sadness clouding her eyes briefly before she shrugged.

"I know I don't want to be held up as some kind of hero or have my life on display for all to see."

"Is this because of the photo in the Prophet?"

That particular image of Oscar kissing her had been passed around and giggled over, lads slapping Oscar on the back as if he had done something marvellous in snogging the Hero of Hogwarts. He knew the image had bothered her, her snap comments about it, and Sebastian's word of warning not to bring it up, eluding as to why she was avoiding people.

MC nodded and sighed. "That article dragged out every awful memory of fifth year, and Oscar just didn't seem to understand..."

She trailed off, her eyes skipping away as she lowered her head.

"It's okay. You can talk about him, MC. It might even help. I know he is my brother, but I am also your friend. I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me."

Her eyes were heavy and shining with unshed tears when she looked up at him. He stepped forward, his arms ready to hold her, but then she spoke.

"I don't want to come between you, Garreth. That's not fair. He is your brother."

He paused and let his hands drop to his sides. Now, that was a loaded statement. He felt his stomach sink, knowing that it made sense, but at the same time wishing that things could be different. Did she just mean about the talking? Or did she mean the as yet unspoken thing, whatever it was, between them?

That day in Hogsmeade had to have meant something, surely. Or was he just reading too much into it, filled with too much hope, perhaps?

"You won't come between us, MC. He's a pain in the bum sometimes, but he is my big brother. We always figure things out," he said. He risked another step forward. "He knows we are friends. He can't begrudge us that. And anyway, I'm not going to stop being here for you just because he was fool enough to lose you."

"Garreth, he isn't a fool," she said, shaking her head. "We just wouldn't have worked. Oscar has his future mapped out already, and that's great. It's just not for me."

"What is for you?"

"I... I don't know. A proper home, I guess. I've never really had one," she said. She looked so lost and uncertain, eyes looking everywhere but at him. She wrapped her arms about herself, a flash of vulnerability crossing her face. "The whole thing is so daunting to think about. I'm not sure I know what I want yet, if I am really honest."

He offered her a small smile. "Well, a home is a good place to start. You still have time to figure out all the rest."

She nodded, and he ached to hold her, but he worried that she would push him back if he tried. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself and turned to look around the clearing again, moving away from her to look over some broken crates, sacks that were soaking wet and beginning to mould. He kicked at a stone, and it bounced across the clearing, rolling to a stop near a clump of bushes. As his eyes followed it, he noticed a shifting shadow through the leaves, and he stilled, squinting through the darkness in an effort to see better.

The shadow shifted again, and he reached into his pocket, fingers curling around his wand, his heart picking up. Was it a poacher? Or perhaps one of the huge spiders that loitered under these dark trees.

"What is it?" MC asked, moving up behind him, her voice low.

He held up his hand to quieten her, his eyes still trained on the bushes. A shape appeared, forming out of the gloom and low, swirling mist. It didn't seem to be the shape of a person, taller and almost wraith like, the beast stepped out from behind the foliage and into the clearing. It appeared to be sniffing around where the stone Garreth had kicked rolled to a stop.

Garreth sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes widening in shock as he took in the horse-like shape. Its skin was black and leathery looking, and it clung tightly to the skeletal bones of its frame. His mouth hung open at the sight.

"Bloody hell..." His voice was a strained whisper as he stared.

MC shifted behind him. He could feel her presence as a warm beacon in the chill air, goosebumps pricking his skin.

"Oh, it's a Thestral," she said, touching a hand to his arm to gently lower it. His eyes flicked down to realise he had been aiming his wand at the beast, his palm sweating around the wood. "It's okay. They won't hurt you. They're actually quite gentle beasts, despite their reputation."

"I... I've never... " He shook his head, still awestruck by what he was seeing. "I've only ever seen drawings of them."

MC frowned up at him. "Really? You've never seen the ones at school?"

He met her eyes and shook his head. They had Thestrals at Hogwarts? He'd never seen one! But then he'd never seen death before, so why would he? He froze.

"I hadn't seen death..."

They stared at each other, wide-eyed. Realisation dawned on her face, and she brought her gloved hands to her lips. "Oh, Garreth. I'm so sorry. It's because of me. That's how you can see them now, because of what I did!"

He saw the horrible realisation in her eyes, eyes that began to well up again, and he immediately took hold of her arms.

"Don't you dare, MC. Don't be upset about this," he said firmly.

"But, it's my fault. I forced you to witness death, and in the most awful way," she said, a tear escaping to slide down her cheek. She swiped at it, her face scrunching up in frustration. "And people call me a hero. I'm not. I'm a killer, I've hurt people, I've done things..."

She clamped her hand over her mouth and tried to turn away, but he wouldn't let her. He held her firmly. He felt the cool slide of fear slither down his spine as he wondered how that sentence would have ended. What things had she done? He tried not to think about it. He couldn't imagine thinking of her in any other way than the soft and generous girl she was. He'd seen her power, witnessed death at her hands, but he got past that. He still looked at her like she was the only girl in the world who could make his heart thump with fire.

"Look at me," he said, gripping her arms. "Okay, so you've done some bad things, but you've also done lots of good things. You help so many people with little favours. You support Poppy through all the trouble with her parents, and no matter what really happened under Hogwarts that night, you did stop Ranrok. You did save people, and nobody can take that away from you."

She looked up at him, tears escaping faster now, her lips trembling. His heart ached, knowing she carried so much dark within her, and struggled with it, but she was also so full of light. If only she could see what he could see.

"You saved me too, you know. That day in the forest. If you hadn't brought down those poachers, I could be dead right now. Dead and gone, and not able to see a real-life Thestral in the flesh. Don't be sorry, MC. I mean, look at them! As sad as the reason is for seeing them, look how amazing they are!"

They both turned to look at the Thestral as it wandered a little further into the clearing. Garreth really was in awe of it, his eyes absorbing every little detail and storing it away so that he could sketch it out later in his journal. He had spoken the truth. They were magnificent looking creatures, so unique and special. Much like the girl beside him right now. He looked back at her with a smile.

"I don't deserve you, Garreth Weasley," she said softly.

"Don't be daft," he said, pulling her against his chest. He cupped her head and held her there, his fingers stroking against her woolly hat. "I mean, sure, I'm a bloody delight, but you, my dear. You are something else. It will take a whole lot more than a Thestral to put me off, believe me."

She was tense to start with, stiffening up as he held her against him, but he refused to let go. He had the feeling she needed to be held more than she would ever admit, and besides, she was lovely and warm, and it was freezing out here.

Gradually, though, she began to relax. His hand stroked her head, and his other hand caressed her back, rubbing up and down in long strokes against the rough wool of her coat. He wanted her to feel safe. He wanted to be the one to give her that.

She snuggled in closer as they watched the Thestral, and he thought that it was maybe one of his favourite moments with her.

Until that point, anyway.

To be continued...

Below is a bonus image of Trixie McNair, my own Slytherin OC, and a regular bad girl. Her image was created by Midjourney AI.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley #oscar weasley #oscar weasley x mc #blueraineshadows #garreth's groupies

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