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lethalchiralium · 4 months

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Happiness Headcanons

(NSFW at the end, as a treat 😌)

- There’s nothing more addictive to Simon than the love of his wife. (Maybe your smell, but probably not.) Simon’s never been consumed by love before (other than Winnie and Mellie) so he is just desperately wanting to protect that.

- He will hold Winnie up by an ankle and pretend he’s selling a prize fish at the market. (She giggles loudly and thrashes, he says, “Oh! ‘ve caught a live one!”)

- The 141 is over pretty much every weekend when they’re on base for long stretches of time. Most of the time they fuss over you cooking, so they bring takeout.

- Winnie likes to dress you some days. Usually it’s just a fun t-shirt and colorful sweatpants or jeans, but sometimes she tugs on a dress you haven’t worn in a while. “Please?” She’ll say, and you have literally no will to say no to her.

- The 141 calls you ‘Missus’ religiously. You’re convinced Price doesn’t know your real name. (He knows your name, he just finds it funny to call you ‘Missus’.)

- Simon secretly LOVES to wash your hair on wash days. He’ll learn your routine from back to front without your knowledge and ask one day to wash your hair. You don’t recall a time since that you’ve had to wash your own hair when he’s home.

- Simon started to learn to love snow when you two started dating. You brought him home to Maine, you were then snowed into your family cabin with just Winnie. Watching her play in the snow was one of his favorite moments.

- He sits at princess tea parties without complaint. Will chat with the cat on duty, who is trying to steal Winnie’s plastic cups. (Missy has had to be held before she starts tearing up stuffies.)

- You always make Simon’s tea first before your own drink. You take time to make it perfect, all because you love seeing him smile as you hand him his “Best Dad Ever” mug.

- Mellie vocalizes to herself to sleep. When she started saying “Dada”, she’d say that to get herself to sleep. Freaked Simon out the first time he heard it on the baby monitor.

- Winnie has an obsession with ice cubes, only because she feeds them to Missy. (“Mama! Ice coobe?” “No, baby. You gave her enough.” “But-“ “No.”)

- Simon can’t figure out how to braid hair for the life of him. It’s somehow too much finger movement, you laughed at that statement.

- There’s a dress you lost in between moving from America to England to be Winnie’s nanny (then subsequently her mom), it was your favorite dress ever. And Simon’s been looking for an exact copy since you two started dating. (He has it in a box in the attic with your due date on it, a surprise for birthing his next baby.)

- Winnie loves seeing you in dresses, she always squeals and compliments you on how pretty you are. She makes you comfortable in your own skin.

- Mellie likes to be wrapped to your chest, little fingers holding onto your shirt as you pick up around the house. She usually falls asleep after fifteen minutes, she just loves to be close to you. It’s the safest place she could ever be.

- Simon likes to lay on the couch with his leg hiked up on the back, so when you come to lay on his chest, he can trap you in. Surprise trap style. (You don’t have the heart to tell him you see it coming every time.)

- Simon plans dates every week.

- You buy tickets to sports events or concerts once every few months and beg him to go. He always says yes.

- He doesn’t sing at all. He’ll hum, but that’s about it. (Which is a lie, he sings little lullabies to his daughters to get them to sleep most nights.)

- Gaz is the go-to babysitter, but if they need to go somewhere overnight, they go to Price. You’ll give Soap a chance every once in a blue moon, but he usually gets drawn on. Head to toe. And is the only uncle who gets terrorized by your five year old. (Simon calls it karma.)

- Missy obviously adores Simon, but when Simon’s busy with the girls, she’ll rub up on your legs and purr like a motorboat.

- Mellie crawls a lot, but she usually likes to pull herself to stand next to the couch - little face staring you down as you sit down. “What, baby? Wanna snuggle?” A little hand reaches up for you, you’re quick to scoop her up and lay down with her. (You always kiss her cheeks, she squeals and makes kissy noises back.)

- You kiss him before you fall asleep every night. The one night you didn’t, he thought you were mad at him. Turns out you were sick and didn’t want to get him sick, but he was incredibly butt hurt about not getting a kiss from his wife.

- Winnie’s favorite color is green. It offends Soap to high heaven since he believes she must secretly be Irish. (Simon nor Winnie’s birth mom are Irish.) You’ve taken the liberty to decide that Mellie’s color is purple.

- Simon takes over laundry and dishes most days so you can recuperate. Raising an almost six year old and almost one year old while having somewhat on and off morning sickness is difficult. (He takes over all duties when you’re essentially locked in the bathroom all day.)

- Gaz and Soap will show up unannounced and essentially push your children to the living room. They’re making blanket forts and drawing with crayons on big sheets of paper. They’ll sit and watch movies, excited that the girls love to spend time with them.

- Winnie’s lunch box and backpack are green and decorated with flowers, she loves them both.

- Simon likes to be held. He’ll shift in the night so his head is on your chest, hands on his back. Hearing you breathe calms him. Hearing your heartbeat helps him breathe easier. (It’s hard not to think about how much his family would’ve loved you.)

- Simon writes down what kind of makeup you like to wear so he can order them if you’re getting low. (No makeup? That’s great too! Man’s purchasing you skincare and nice little lotions, bath bombs, and perfumes. He likes to pamper his beautiful wife.)

- Mellie refuses all vegetables except carrots and broccoli. She’s repeatedly thrown the ones she doesn’t like at her father, so you’ve temporarily stopped making them for her. She’s as happy as a clam.

- You have been looking into getting Simon the dog he wants. Either a Rottweiler, Doberman, or King Shepherd. It’s just hard to buy a £1500 puppy without the fraud alert going off on your joint bank account.

- You ask Simon to paint your nails sometimes. He doesn’t think he could do it right so he refuses and hands you enough quid to go to a nail salon.

- Winnie loves Barbies. She maybe has five of them that she take a great care of. She always requests her father to play with her. Simon always says yes, but is only allowed to play with her favorite Barbie - the one that looks like you.

- Your engagement and wedding rings are a matching set, both expensive and high quality. Simon worked for years without anyone to spend it on, so he saved and invested. It’s not enough to retire on, but it’s enough to buy your matching rings, the matching bracelet, necklace, and earrings. (Yes, he’s still paying that credit card off. No, he doesn’t regret it. He loves watching your face light up with every piece he gives you.)

- He also buys you another bracelet, one with birthstones on them - yours, his, Winnie’s, and Mellie’s. With space for the next one, and maybe another after that. (What can the man say? He can’t wait to see your pregnant belly, it’ll be the first time he’s ever seen a partner of his actually grow his child. He’s excited to wake up every day and see you. (If fifteen year old Simon Riley could see him now, wanting to wake up every day.))

NSFW

- Munch this, munch that, Simon doesn’t go down on you unless asked. He doesn’t think he does it that well, but he’ll do as you ask.

- He unknowingly made you into a pillow princess. His body aches after sex a lot of the time (His injuries that healed wrong) and he’s so conscious to make sure you are comfortable at all times. So if that means he keeps you laying on array of pillows, so be it.

- You do love to ride him though. It’s not often as it requires a lot of energy from you, and you’re almost always exhausted. You just like to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head, the way his Adam’s apple bops as he sucks in air, licking his lips. He’s quite literally your personal art gallery, you could stare at him for days on end.

- He’s not confident in his head giving abilities, but he is very confident with his fingers. Your first orgasm is always from him rubbing your clit, doesn’t matter if it takes a little longer and more effort the more frequently he does it, he wants you soft and pliable so he can gently fuck you.

- Eye contact is huge for you. You trust Simon, you truly do, but there’s just something about how he refuses to look away from you sometimes.

- He’s quiet during sex, which means you’re mostly quiet too. You don’t want the girls to hear, even if they’re down the hall. So he’s extremely quiet, except for the soft grunts and breathy whispers. (“So good, meetin’ my hips like that. Keep rockin’ ‘em, love. Feels so good.”)

- He likes to bend your back sometimes, not often. Having you on your front, pressing his hips down so your back curls and he can go deeper? He’s a mess.

- He gets pussy drunk a lot. He drooled on your chest once, he tried to apologize but you swiped it with your finger and put it in your mouth. “Taste sweet, baby.” (That man immediately asked if he could spit in your mouth, you said another time. That or he could spit on your pussy, which he did ten seconds later.)

- A quickie in the shower is a must before work for him some days. If you’re not up for it, he’ll jerk off thinking of you.

- You like to wash him in the shower, which means you usually get to see him sudsy and clean, always from a below his waist angle though.

- You two don’t have sex every day, but it’s always every few days. More than most of your friends have sex with their partners. (Definitely more than Gaz and Soap can pick up when they’re home.)

- Sometimes he whispers how he wants you to have as many babies as he can give you, that he just wants to see you with a baby belly, how sexy you are being a wonderful mother. (He’s in adoration of you, even when he’s balls deep.)

- Simon is the type to ask Gaz to babysit, then reserve a nice hotel room so he can fuck you without restraint.

- He’ll whimper if you ask nicely and promise something in return. (For example, brushing his hair. Or holding his hair when he goes down on you and controlling where his tongue goes. Fun stuff like that.)

- You do appreciate a quick fingering since pregnancy hormones got you fucked up, you can’t keep asking to get bent over the bathroom counter or your bed because you’re gonna have a baby belly soon.

- As much as he loves having sex with you, he’s nervous to initiate. He knows you don’t mind, he knows you usually say yes, it’s just that he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He knows what it’s like and he would simply put a bullet in his head if he EVER touched you when you didn’t want him to. He loves you too much.

#happiness series #happiness #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x wife!reader

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floridaboiler · 1 year

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"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"

In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"

"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic.

"Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.

"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.

"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said. A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."

"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."

Susie kissed her husband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.

"And I love you," said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"

Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.

"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.

"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all.

"There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."

"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.

"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.

And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.

"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said."I know."

"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes."You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.

Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"We were always together... in our dreams."

"We were?"

"We were."

"Hobbes?"

"Yeah, old buddy?"

"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."

"Me too, Calvin. Me too."

"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.

"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.

"Can I come in?" Susie asked.

"Just a minute.

"Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything...""No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.

Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now.

"Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you.

"Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.

"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather.

"Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories.

"Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age.

"Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up.

"Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tomorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second.

"Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"

Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him.""

He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.

Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret.

"Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."

Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."

"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.

"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.

"Okay!" Francis shouted back

."Take good care of him." Calvin said.

"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.

Credits: samuraitiger19 - from redditNote from the author - on reddit: "Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people".

https://www.facebook.com/groups/315603703347018

#Calvin and Hobbes #1000 notes

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reddancer1 · 1 year

Photo

"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?" In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife.

Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"

"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic." Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long. "I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband."Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.

A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him.""All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."

Susie kissed her huband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said."And I love you," said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.

Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes."You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled."You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her.""Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever. "Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.

"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said."I know." "But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes. "You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes. Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"

Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't." "What do you mean?" "We were always together... in our dreams." "We were?"

"We were." "Hobbes?" "Yeah, old buddy?" "I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..." "Me too, Calvin. Me too."

"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door."Yes dear?" Calvin replied. "Can I come in?" Susie asked."Just a minute." Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything..." "No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said. Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now."

Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you." Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight. "Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."

Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sounds just like me when I was his age."

Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up." Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tommorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."

Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him." "He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised. Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret."

Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever." "Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again."Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called."Okay!" Francis shouted back."Take good care of him." Calvin said."I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face

.Credits: samuraitiger19

- from redditNote from the author - on reddit:

"Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people".

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strictlyfavorites · 7 months

Text

"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?”

“Yes dear,” Susie said smiling sadly, “He was in the attic.

"Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.

"I washed him for you,” Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.

“Thank you, Susie.” Calvin said. A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

“Dear,” Calvin said finally. “Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him.”

“All right,” Susie said. “I’ll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I’ll be back soon.”

“And I love you,” said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. “Hello Hobbes. It’s been a long time hasn’t it old pal?”

Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. “It sure has, Calvin.” said Hobbes.

“You… haven’t changed a bit.” Calvin smiled.

“You’ve changed a lot.” Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, “Really? I haven’t noticed at all.

"There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So… you married Susie Derkins.” Hobbes said, finally smiling. “I knew you always like her.”

“Shut up!” Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.

“Tell me everything I missed. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to!” Hobbes said, excited.

“You know… I visited you in the attic a bunch of times.” Calvin said.“I know.”

“But I couldn’t see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal.” Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.“You grew up old buddy.” said Hobbes.

Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn’t grow up and that we’d be together forever!!"Hobbes stroke the Calvin’s hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were always together… in our dreams.”

“We were?”

“We were.”

“Hobbes?”

“Yeah, old buddy?”

“I’m so glad I got to see you like this… one last time…”

“Me too, Calvin. Me too.”

“Sweetheart?” Susie voice came from outside the door.

“Yes dear?” Calvin replied.

“Can I come in?” Susie asked.

“Just a minute.

"Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks… for everything…”“No, thank you Calvin.” Hobbes said.

Calvin turned back to the door and said, “You can come in now.

"Susie came in and said, "Look who’s come to visit you.

"Calvin’s children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin’s room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!” screamed the child in delight.

“Francis!” cried Calvin’s daughter, “Be gentle with your grandfather.

"Calvin’s daughter turned to her dad. "I’m sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories.

"Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age.

"Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up.

"Calvin’s beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tomorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second.

"Francis came over to his grandfather’s side, "What is it Gramps?”

Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. “This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him.”“

He’s just a stuffed tiger.” Francis said, eyebrows raised.

Calvin laughed, “Well, let me tell you a secret.

"Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger.”

Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, “Not only that he will be your best friend forever.”

“Wow! Thanks grandpa!” Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.

“Francis! We need to go now!” Calvin’s daughter called.

“Okay!” Francis shouted back

.“Take good care of him.” Calvin said.

“I will.” Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. “I’ll take care of him, Calvin…"Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.

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majorgarrett93 · 2 years

Text

Terror of the Carver House

Aaron Peterson: single, 40s, lives in an apartment in the suburbs. Typical day to day life but that would change soon. Been a regular at a local bar, gave him something to do in a relatively boring area and ran into his old high school friend that he hadn’t seen or talked to in over ten years.

Aaron was best friends with Adam in high school as well as next door neighbors, both took interest in paranormal investigating and had many cases. Both reminiscing about the past, remembering some of their wild stories. It was usually the people they remember more than the house/haunting, the neighbors were the terrifying part and not the ghosts, entities, spirits...

Class of ‘99:

Aaron and Adam, senior year and have become known in their area for investigating paranormal activity reported in houses. Sure, they believed in the paranormal but when people would hire them, give them money and free beer...well, they “believed” in every case. Aaron was 15 when he investigated one case, neighbor offered him some beer. He said he wasn’t old enough to drink but he, referencing Tommy Chong about Ouija boards, “you can summon the devil at 8?” Aaron started asking for money and saving it, Adam would investigate any case though for a couple Millers.

It was pure entertainment and they got paid for it. One case that they’d never forget was the neighbor lady that moved in across the street: 80s, psychotic, believed that her house was a portal between earth and hell after hearing scary creaking in her attic and wind believing it was evil spirits being conjured up as well as ghosts of the last owner, devil worshipper that ended his life in a satanic ritual. She had legit proof too as she found evidence in the attic: music consisting of AC/DC, Metallica and Iron Maiden.

Like Costco’s food court, she never heard of inflation and gave them each a few bucks like it was still the Great Depression. Although they didn’t care, visiting her house was more entertaining than any blockbuster at the local movie theater for $10. Aaron would blast music outside just to watch her reaction but stopped after she ran down the street screaming bloody murder, running into traffic and getting hit by a car. Adam moved out of his parent’s house and across the country that summer, both went separate ways.

2022:

Adam’s hours were cut at work, being evicted and had only a week before he’d be homeless. Aaron told him that he could crash at his place, declined the offer but he insisted. Mentioned a case he’s been reading about online after getting a call; family that recently moved into a house reached out to him after odd events that’s like the “local Amityville”, been vacant since the 1970s due to it’s history. Married couple noticing odd, erratic behavior in their children and called Aaron wanting help.

Adam crashed at Aaron’s, asked him how everything was going as there was quite a bit that he didn’t know like how he settled down for a while, married but then divorced. Adam asked him as well, “how things been going with you? Any places you’ve investigated lately?”, He replied “no but you’ve got to hear about the house I was just telling you about. There’s dark history going back to the 1800s, you won’t believe everything that’s happened.”

Next day Aaron called the number back, Adam agreed to team up with him like old times and would be their first paranormal investigation in over twenty years. It would be their first real case and would be far more terrifying, far more than they were ready for.

They had arrived at the house, looked a lot like something out of an episode of Thriller. Aaron introduced himself which the owner Paul Johnson introduced himself as well as his wife Rene. Started asking them both questions which Paul responded, “my son and daughter (fraternal twins) have been having nightmares. Keep mentioning their friend Bill, just thought kids and imaginary friends, you know but it had gotten worse.” Rene mentions “they said he’s an older guy, wears a hat and suit, usually friendly but has recently been really angry.” Adam mentions the incident in the 1970s which the Johnsons were never told about, “In the 1970s a family moved in, married couple with a teenage son. Son murdered his parents then killed himself. He was acting odd which the neighbors noticed as well as his parents prior, it was the ‘70s and people didn’t believe any of their stories about the place being haunted, just blamed it on drugs and heavy metal.” Paul mentions how his son was having nightmares, saying that Bill told him that he would kill him and tried, “told him that it’s just a bad dream but he was bleeding and didn’t find any sharp objects in his room. It will probably be a permanent scar”, “He’s never been physically violent or abusive, there’s no way that Paul would’ve hurt anyone”, Rene responded. Aaron asked the Johnsons if he and Adam could ask their children questions, Rene agreed “yes, they’re sleeping now but sure, tomorrow.”

Aaron mentioned how he’s getting tired, “Hey Adam, looks like it’s getting late. Should probably look for a cheap hotel and grab a bite.” Paul and Rene mention how they can spend the night, “thanks but don’t want to be any trouble.” Aaron mentioned but they insisted. Rene went off to bed but Paul was interested in learning more about the incident in the ‘70s, sat down on the couch in the living room after getting himself a beer and offering one to Aaron and Adam who begin to tell him about everything.

Renton Massacre:

Fall of 1974, married couple Ray and Christine Renton with three children (teenage son Brad 16 as well as a younger son 7 and daughter 5 just recently in elementary school) purchased an old, dilapidated house which they planned on remodeling. Wanted to hire someone but no one would call back or make an excuse for some odd reason in the area. Ray decided that he’d do it along with paying his son to help him out.

One afternoon, Ray was finishing the flooring in the last room. It was a Saturday afternoon, just about finished the whole place but all of a sudden, the lights went out and the music stopped. Went to check the circuit breaker, restarted it and the power was back but thought he saw what he believed to a man in his house but then wasn’t there, checked outside but saw no footprints. Just believed that it was his eyes playing tricks on him. Wife and kids show up, Brad was over at his friend’s house. He got home that night which his friend told him about the house and the local legend “The Carver House” which his siblings make fun of him telling him that he’s still afraid of the boogeyman, gives them the one finger salute, “Brad!” his mom shouted and his sister asked “what does that mean?” They blame it on his obsession with scary movies, grounded for going to see the Exorcist with his friend, sneaking in to see. He remembered the audience fainting and vomiting more than the film. Brad stayed up late that night and heard someone in the kitchen which he believed that it was his dad, heard him up multiple times then went to bed he assumed. Morning and he asked his dad if he was up a lot last night? which he replied “no” and then asked him if he sleepwalks? “No, don’t think so.” Brad thought nothing of it.

One day after school, was talking to his friend more about the Carver House which he replied “pretty far out that you’ve been there for over a month, longest any family had been there at least in the 20th century.” He started to tell Brad about Bill Carver, “owner of the house in the 1800s, right before the Civil War when slavery was still going on. There were rumors that he was a Satanist, practiced in the occult, sacrificed humans, his slaves. People became suspicious more and more but soon children went missing. Everyone in the city teamed up, slaves were in on it too to get revenge. Don’t know exactly what they did but basically was everything that he did to them: burning, whipping, cutting off fingers/toes, getting worse until the very end, went on for about twenty-four hours. Once snuck out late at night, rode my bike and investigated the place. There was a faint scream, like the screams of tortured humans as well as a demonic growl. Heard a chant that sounded like Latin at first but couldn’t figure out the language to be honest, maybe not of this earth? I got out of there, for a week I could feel a presence like something was there. Thank God it went away, I’ll never go in there again, no offense. Nightmares were hell and felt so real, something had followed me, was tormented but never gave up and it went away.”

Brad hung out with him after school and spent the night at his house. Talked him into sneaking into the movie theater to see the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, both barely under seventeen. Asked Brad if he wanted popcorn, “thought we were sneaking in?”, “good answer” he replied, “I’ve got perfectly good vodka, five finger, baby!” while pulling out two small bottles in his pockets.

Brad got a part time job, working graveyard shift so he went to school right after, lived really close as well as close to his friend’s house so he started spending more time there. Things started to get strange at home though, he started having nightmares and insomnia. Had a nightmare about a man, looked like he was from a much earlier generation. Wore a hat and nice suit, dark hair, six foot approximately, short dark hair and carried a cane around. Introduced himself as Bill, pulled out a knife brutally stabbing his family to death then approaching him. Suddenly Brad awoke and was in bed but couldn’t moved, completely paralyzed, heard a sound like someone was approaching his room, more like something though. Heard a loud hiss and whispers speaking in a foreign language, could feel a sense of dread and fear which he tried to scream but couldn't, only thing he could to was close his eyes being too terrified to look at it, listening to loud screams and cries as well as a faint chant. He could hear something which sounded like it was coming from all corners of his room saying, “I own your soul, I’ll be back!” then felt a hand hold him down which felt like a hot iron on his chest, awakening in pure terror. Thinks it was just a bad nightmare until he finds a scar on his chest that morning.

Later that morning he was having breakfast, got little sleep which his mom questioned him if he stayed up all night and he answers no. His brother and sister both mention that he made Bill angry, Brad was in shock which his mother replies “Oh, he’s their new imaginary friend.” Brad started sleeping very little or not at all, started to have trouble distinguishing dreams from reality. One day even at school, started hearing a voice that sounded like Bill from his nightmare.

It was one night, Brad asks his parents if they ever heard of the Carver House and the story about the house, “yes, just like vampires” his dad replies. “You on drugs? Those anti-drug films you watched in school didn’t scare you, you’ll wind up just like Andy, in a white room. What was that one called? Pill poppers?”

Brad’s behavior got more erratic, parents even searched his room but found nothing. One day he dosed off for a second, saw an unusual man/entity come out of his wall and woke up with a gun in his hand, could see that two bullets have been fired as well as his mother and father dead and bleeding on the ground. Suddenly there’s a loud screech and voice shouting, “join me in eternity” which also tells him to murder his siblings. He takes off running but can feel something getting closer and closer like it’s trying to drag his soul into hell, does something before it’s too late and ends his life in the middle of the street.

Police found his brother and sister crying, told him that Bill got angry and even angrier after Brad shot himself. Said that he was going to come back for revenge. Officer questioned both children, “Bill? You know his last name?” which both reply “yeah, Carver!” There was an investigation, ruled out to be a murder-suicide. Both grew up in foster care, Brad’s sister died in a car accident at a young age and shortly after his brother from a drug overdose.

2022:

It was morning, Adam was up all night reading stories online about the Carver House. Had all kinds of gadgets that he held onto still from EVP to countless other devices. Aaron woke up and was making fun of him at first but then he started playing the recording. Sounded like a voice, a man speaking a foreign language and repeating the sentence multiple times. Aaron had wrote down what he thought he was hearing, looked like gibberish on paper, looked it up online and found countless pages totally unrelated but then found one about the son of the Renton’s. Raymond Renton Jr. was interviewed when he was still alive mentioning that Bill is still haunting him, following him no mater where he moves. Also mentioned that he was depressed, it had only been a few months since his sister’s death who were both close. Started talking about what Bill would whisper in his ear at night, first just thought that it was nonsensical but then started thinking it was some forgotten language, some other race before humans walked the earth that have now become extinct and a language almost completely forgotten. Ray passed away only three days later from a heart attack but didn’t have any health problems prior.

Aaron and Adam introduced themselves to the Johnson’s children asking them about their nightmares. Both mention that his name is Bill Carver and that Brad made him angry. Told them that he tells them that they have to do everything he says or he’ll kill them. “Said to kill our worthless, piece of crap, screw up parents” their daughter mention as her mom and dad looked angry, “what? I didn’t swear. I said crap and screw up!” then her brother replied “Bill’s a mean motherfucker!”, “That’s it, no allowance for you this week or any PG-13 movies!” Rene shouted then Paul was confused “they can’t say that!”, “yes they can!”... the argument/fight went on for about ten minutes until Aaron shouted “Timeout! This is about a serious problem, not if you want to let your children watch garbage or not!” He then apologized for shouting so loud, “where did it all begin?” which Rene replied, “like a couple days after moving in. Kids had an imaginary friend. One neighbor introduced himself, said I wouldn’t last a day. Didn’t understand.” Paul mentions nightmares about his kids killing Rene then coming after him. “Well, I’m a horror addict which people blame but I never have nightmares.” He then talks about his last nightmare, “this time they were with this old man in a suit who stabbed them both to death then approached me. Started looking inhuman, eyes were glowing and he said that he owns me and I can’t turn back. Dream ended with a loud screech, could hear screams and cries then woke up. Thought it was just a nightmare but had a huge slash on my back, was bleeding.” Paul then showed everyone the scar as well as writing down what he thought Bill was chanting, almost identical to what Adam recorded.

He started then talking about nightmares and not being able to sleep, Bill handed him a knife in his nightmare telling him to give him his children. After that, he couldn’t handle it any longer so he did research online and read about Aaron and Adam’s investigating in the 1990s. Rene noticed that Paul wasn’t himself anymore, saw him in the bathroom one day and his reflection was totally different, another person.

It had been about a week later which Aaron and Adam searched the town for information but no luck until one night they get advise while having drinks at a local bar to end their day. Another customer overhears them, older guy around 70s or so and recognizes them, “you’re those weirdos that investigated houses in the ‘90s. Seen hundred of paranormal sites and that’s one that I wouldn’t mess with. Something lurks there, not meant to be seen by man or anything on earth. An empty void to eternity, death and hell.

They tried to find a solution but no luck still, no one would come close like a priest to banish the evil from the house to anyone like necromancers or anyone into paranormal investigating or communicating with spirits, no psychic medium... The Carver House was a curse that couldn’t be fought and they had to inform the Johnsons with the bad news that the only thing they could do is leave the house and hope nothing follows.

Unfortunately they were followed, Paul was having nightmares but didn’t talk about it. One day Rene comes home with the kids, finds Paul dead with a gun in his hand as well as a note on the bed saying that Bill followed him and that he did it for her and the kids, their life was in danger.

Rene had fallen into a deep depression and placed in a psychiatric ward, children went to live with their grandparents. Shortly after, both started having nightmares again. Bill had never left and still follows.

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

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HERE WE GOOOO 🖤 first one i'm thinking soft!dark wanda - reader finds their own body in the attic but doesn't remember dying, only their married life with wanda

oBVIOUSLY we gotta kick off spoopy drabbles with the loml & ofc I love that you started it with some real horror 🖤

pairing: Soft!Dark Wanda x Reader

warnings: soft!dark wanda is the warning. very ominous tones.

count: 1.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's no concrete proof that it's your body.

After all, you're staring at a thick metal cylinder case melded shut with not even a glimpse of what could be inside. It could be empty for all you know. Nothing more than a metaphor for those who linger.

But you know.

There's something sick that pulls at your stomach as you look at it, something gnawing and digging underneath your skin. It draws you closer and closer despite the ice in your veins and the rigidness of your limbs. That's how you know.

You've spent hours and hours with your eyes unmoving from your coffin.

Strange, you laugh humourlessly to yourself. You don't recall ever seeing this metal contraption.

There are plenty of things you remember. You remember this attic, the never-ending smell of baked goods and cinnamon, the sound of laughter in the house. You remember being married to the most wonderful woman you had ever laid your eyes upon.

But you don't remember this casket in your home.

You don't remember dying.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Before

"Do you think we got married too quickly?"

Wanda turns her head to you, finding a frown on your face as you scroll through your phone.

"No," Wanda answers as she rubs your arm. "Why?"

You sigh. "Everyone in my group—friends, families, coworkers—has apparently been talking behind my back. They're surprised I could get married to someone after just 6 months of dating."

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth before gnawing on it. "I mean, I suppose it's rather unlike me..."

Wanda merely chuckled before she tugged at you until you were in her lap.

"I think you should praise me for being able to sweep you off your feet," she teases as she pinches your side, causing you to yelp. "But time is relative, honey. Some people know maybe after years and years of being together. Some people, like us, know four months in. I think we're lucky to know quickly that we want to spend our lives together, don't you?"

You let out a content smile as you lean your body into Wanda's, relishing her warmth and security. You wrap your arms around her, pressing a kiss against her lips before you rest your chin over her shoulder.

Wanda had shown you love could be so tender, so fulfilling. She had shown you that partners could be competent and accountable.

You had gotten a glimpse of forever with her love.

"So very lucky," you agreed before you teased. "Hopefully this isn't doomed to end like everyone's saying."

Wanda laughed.

"I would never let this end."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now

She was here again.

Wanda came by every day—always at the end of it. After work and whatever responsibilities took hold of her, she would come to you.

And she would sit for hours and hours and hours in silence as she sat unknowingly next to you as she stared at the casket.

The first night you realized you were nothing but the lingering air left behind, you heard her crying night after night. Your heart ached at your grieving wife, who apparently—was grieving so hard she couldn't even bear to give you a real funeral or burial spot.

But you knew grief had a strange hold over people. And for someone like Wanda, who has faced more loss than anyone should ever have to lose, maybe one more person was the tipping point.

"Why did you go?" You heard Wanda mutter to herself. "How could you let this—us—end?"

You watched Wanda swallow the lump in her throat harshly. You looked down to the ring in Wanda's fingers—The ring that should be on your left hand.

She fumbled with it in her hands, the diamond she bought you digging into her soft skin.

Her grief was your fault. But maybe it was Wanda's too—for not doing better to keep things from ending. If she did, maybe 'us' wouldn't be separated by breathing atoms and lingering air.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Before

Love bombing. Mania. Obsession. Adrenaline.

Wanda's love is an exploding grenade only ever capable of going off over and over and over. She's the first date butterflies and nausea that never seems to go away. She's the wave that only ever seems to build and is never ready to crash.

There's a part of you that does love it. You love that Wanda can love you like it's always the first month of being together. It's always all-consuming, and you had longed for such a love for such a long time.

But despite time passing, it feels like you never get past the honeymoon stage. Even though you've talked about all there is to talk about, you feel like there's a wall. There's a wall that can never come down unless the wave of all that's Wanda comes crashing down too.

But she never does. Wanda takes you higher and higher with no lows in sight.

People are usually happy about such love, aren't they?

"Wanda, I need more," you beg her. "I can't—we can't keep going on like this. It's not good for us. How we are...I wanna grow old together."

But Wanda just stares at you like she always does.

Focused. Manic. Obsessed. Hers.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now

This is what it looks like for Wanda to crash—for her wave to break down her wall.

It's ugly.

Nothing like the first date butterflies at all.

Mascara stains. Despondent. Anger. Constricted pupils.

Still, the obsession lingers. Maybe that's all Wanda is ever truly capable of.

You turn your attention away from her and back to your metal casket. You wonder if Wanda hates it—not being able to see you.

The night seems to finally come to an end as it does every night. Wanda crawls towards the welded metal, a hesitant hand out before touching it.

"We don't have to grow old at all," Wanda says quietly. "Growing old means one day, things will end—and I told you I'd never let things end."

Wanda strokes the surface softly, your ring clanking against it softly. "We'll try again. We'll try as many times as it takes until we're perfect. We're so close, honey," she sighs before the corner of her lip quirks slightly upwards. "With the amount of times I've gotten to know you, maybe you'll praise me if I can sweep you off your feet and get you to marry me in three months."

With a kiss goodnight to the cold metal, Wanda gets up and silently leaves the room, leaving you with the looming shroud of metal.

The house is always the same. The smell of cinnamon and baked goods never goes away because you think it comes from the many times before. You weren't wrong when you said it was unlike you to ever fall quickly—a few lifetimes could never constitute as fast.

You never remember much, but you never remember dying or ever seeing this casket.

You wonder if you can convince her this time to grow old with you.

#wanda maximoff x reader #soft!dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #dark wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #mm.drabble.wanda #mm.mydarkfics

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nutty1005 · 3 years

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A Dream Like a Dream – Chengdu Stop Lower Half by Addison20999

Original article: https://weibo.com/6596396544/KkVEp7NPS Original author: Addison20999

Image Cr. REDOct·肖战

Chengdu Lower Half Repo (Only watched lower half and read the book, Seat was 1280￥)

I knew that he would be lying on the hospital bed, hence once I entered I was arranging my binoculars to look at him. I only saw the blanket pile, he was sleeping under it, not moving, like a little mound. The blanket was like the curtain, fully covering him, and it also meant that the story had not started yet. The female doctor was already in character, she was at the foot of the bed, moving her hands with the rhythm of breathing.

Then it was the warm reminder, the stage became dark, then the light came onto the hospital room. The story has begun.There was heavy breathing in the background, “In~ out~ in~ out~”, the doctor was still performing her ritual.Suddenly, No. 5 drew open his blanket and questioned her, the heavy breathing had annoyed this man who had a fever for many years. (This was my first time seeing him and his No. 5, his face was so clear before my binoculars, I was slightly stunned, hence this part of the repo might be very “subconscious”.)

No. 5 started telling his story to the doctor, the story where he went to seek Gu Xianglan. At the other end of the stage, the story was also being performed. The No. 5 today sat on his hospital bed, he was deep in thoughts as he looked across to his experience, and started filling up the story being enacted then. As he said, he looked across the audience, there was an instant where he looked past me, and on my end it felt like we locked gaze. What kind of eyes are those, so bright and clear, there was no possibility to explore or think about what kind of lines created such alluring eyes. When I’m seeing him live, I can only see his bright gaze, I can’t see anything else!

Luckily, the No. 5 on the hospital bed was a narrator, I still had ears.The voice in the lines were No. 5’s, the No. 5 who was being crafted in the play. The resonance from his chest voice, the lines were superb, they carried the discomfort from No. 5’s illness, they were low, helpless but not deliberate, very natural, and every syllable was clear. (Lines in plays are really important, especially when many people spoke at the same time, if you weren’t clear no one would understand what you’ve said, the lower half had Shanghainese dialect, and even though I’m from Zhejiang, I wouldn’t really understand every dialect, so having good lines is really important!) Xiao Zhan’s voice was like a piano, it’s already so gentle and attractive, when he adds in the sickly tone and the melancholic emotion, truly, only those who heard it would understand.

Very soon, No. 5 went off stage, and soon it was old Gu Xianglan narrating her story with the Baron, or rather, the past lives of No. 5 and his wife. This story was very long, it encompassed Shanghai and France, it encountered republic era, World War II, the French restoration from occupation to 1966 when Wang Debao passed away, it spoke of Gu Xianglan lifetime as a man’s plaything seeking the true nature of art, abandoned and becoming a road sweeper, a maid and a nanny, and finally returning to Shanghai with Wang Debao. Xu Qing is undoubtedly an actress who could influence her audience very well, I had seen a lot of cliché stories before, but yet I was drawn into her Gu Xianglan’s life as a famous courtesan in a high class brothel, as a famous French artist in the saloon…After Gu Xianglan ended her resentment with the Baron in her own method, the No. 5 who came to ask about old Gu Xianglan was about to appear.

When it was still gloomy, I discovered that the central stage had many shadows overlapping, as though there were many patient beds in a row. When the light lit up the stage, No. 5 was holding old Gu Xianglan’s spotted hands, side seated by the bed, deeply concerned and patient as he listened to the old lady talk about her life. The old lady was already dying, it was unclear if she mistook him or she saw the true nature of it, she called No. 5 “Henry”, the man who abandoned her to the chaos of France. Old Gu Xianglan spoke to No. 5 the words she never managed to tell the Baron, and from that she found her closure, release and the relief from feeling that they no longer owed each other anything. Whereas No. 5’s emotions was affected by Gu Xianglan, he said, when he saw Gu Xianglan being upset, he was upset too. Perhaps because this was also a part of No. 5’s story, he was already within the story, and naturally he could not help himself.

I could only see No. 5’s side profile, I saw a side profile of very smooth lines, very different from the adorable him when he just debuted, the collagen at his current age is just too perfect, there weren’t too much or too little, the lines and his bone structure combined together to sculpt all kinds of stories.After Gu Xianglan passed away, No. 5 walked around the stage, it was very different from how Xiao Zhan usually walked, the theme for this part of the story was “redemption” and “closure”, it was the long gloomy day, the sudden calm that came after a lifetime of glory and tribulations. When he walked before the audience, and looked at us with his already red and puffy eyes, how could anyone not be touched by him? He stood there, his eyes reddened and full of tears, his expression helpless and sorrowful. I thought, I was already absorbed into that story because of his gaze, I really wanted to hug him so that he wouldn’t be so upset. I could not bear to let him stand there, so frail, and allow him to go through so much trials because of his previous lifetime! But, he was No. 5, his happiness and sorrow had been predetermined by that previous lifetime, I could not help him, I could only watch from afar, watch his life be crushed without reason, shattered, pieced together again, and barely survive. He could only bring his luggage away from us, and leave us with a slightly hunched shadow. This path was so long, and he walked so long.

At the end of the road, was a late farewell in the lower half. He returned to Jiang Hong’s apartment, with heavy panting, he took a long time to climb that staircase. I was regretful that I didn’t watch the upper half to make comparisons.He opened the non-existent door to the apartment, in that apartment he looked over to the white chapel faraway. In that instant, I felt that he coincided with the Gu Xianglan, who also looked over to a chapel as she drew in a dark attic, it was the keen loneliness and desolation that connected both of them.

No. 5 found the letter Jiang Hong left for him in the floorboards, he kneeled on the ground as he read, first it was his voice and Jiang Hong’s, then Jiang Hong continued reading solo. Jiang Hong described how she lived after No. 5 left her, perhaps it was also Gu Xianglan’s thoughts after the Baron left her: “Instead of letting that period of time extend to become an eternity of memory, I’d rather live fully in that period.”, “You and I could have such a period of time together, and it was so good, that’s great”… As the letter was being read, No. 5’s teardrops fell drop by drop, these teardrops were not teardrops, but they were the mixture of emotions, every drop, was the resonance to a long sorrow, the yearning of the short-lived happiness, the saudade for those who left him… The man kneeled before me on an empty stage, his surging emotions crystalizing into teardrops that crashed onto my heart. I didn’t think of wiping away his tears, because he was No. 5, he needed to complete his life journey on stage. Following the thread of fates, he came to the place where the Baron and his African lady lived and met his daughter from his previous timetime. Thereafter, he sat there alone, and gave himself to the surrounding sorrow left behind by his fate.

Finally, he returned to the castle, carrying his completed handicraft, although his emotions were like he was still walking through the gloom, he had already put on his coat of polite smiles. After all the twists and turns, once again he returned to the lake side, this time, it was a special millennium eve ritual: to place all the things you do not want to bring into the millennium, such as illness, wars, inequality and all that is bad, into a box and throw it into the lake – “let all the things you do not want to bring with you stay in that mysterious space”.

The ritual started, singing, applause, cheering, dancing, flowers and hugging. But “smiles and songs do not belong to him”, No. 5 stood with his back facing us, quietly watching the lake in the distance, it was like he was a traveler tossed here from a mysterious space, in the chaos of light and shadow, interlaced in the cheering crowd. Was he really able to leave the things he didn’t want to bring with him behind? Everything was preordained in the cycle of fate, in the predestination, everyone had to face the consequences of their actions, no matter whether it was this lifetime, or the next lifetime. Perhaps this also indicated the closure between Gu Xianglan and the Baron, that it would no longer impact the next lifetime.

He stood by the lake, stood in his own world, and I could not get in.After completing the farewell in No. 5’s life, we have to bid farewell to him as well. In this scene, he was the observer, he simply stood still. The half beam of warm light could not light up the entire darkness, I could only see his face. Precisely because he stood still, hence I had the chance to study and record him into my memory. Even light would fall in love with his side profile, brow bone, the outlines of his eyes, his nose, his philtrum, his lips, the clear jawline, smooth, clean, exquisite – these were my only sensations. I worked hard to hold onto my binoculars, but it was unavoidable as my hands shook when I breathed. As they shook, I subconsciously fell into a surreal state, it was like an exquisite porcelain doll, like an extraordinarily crafted human CG effect, even went beyond the boundaries of gender. He stayed still, so far and so frail, as though if I “shook” harder, he would disappear on the spot, and that would be all my fault. Really, photographs and videos could not record such beauty, it could convey beauty, but not the whole beauty, and this perhaps was left for us to see him vividly in life.

Finally, he stood there, facing us as he sang us a poem:

“Did anyone see my face? I think I remembered, I think I forgot, You used to linger in my dreams; I think I remembered, I think I forgot, I used to sing in your story; I think I remembered, I think I forgot.”

In the first phrase, he solemnly set the tone of the tune, and led the audience to immerse themselves into the life that he sang. When he sang to “forgot” of the second phrase, I clearly saw that he smiled gently, as though he was smiling at his life, heavy but yet as weightless as smoke. The third phrase when he sang “I” of “I think I forgot”, it was like this world, including his No. 5, had forgot what needed to be forgotten. “Reality is in fact an illusion that could not be captured, the problem is, this illusion keeps continuing.”

He simply is No. 5.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

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Amira Wayne - Chapter 5

I’ve officially ran out of prewritten chapters QuQ

Day 5 of @biodad-bruce-month event

Chapter 5: Overprotection

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

“I’m sending you to Paris.” Amira heard her father say out of the blue.

“Wha-what?” Amira sputtered out, rising from her seat, cushions tumbled to the floor.

“I’ll have all the necessary arrangements done by the end of this month, no, week.” Bruce said, searching his desk for some papers.

“Dad, what are-”

“You’ll be living with Tom and his wife-”

“What do you-”

“I’ll also have to do the necessary paperwork for you to attend a school in Paris-”

“But I don't need to move to be safe. I’m perfectly-” Amira argued, standing in front of his desk, the Batman plushie in her hand.

“If I thought you were safe here, I wouldn’t have you-”

“I don’t want to-” Amira cut off again, trying to get her feelings across to her father.

“You’re going to go to Paris where it’s safe. Where no villain nor enemy will find you.” Bruce stated, almost glaring at Amira.

“I. Don’t. Want. To.” Amira gritted, feeling her hand tightly squeeze the plushie in her hand. She just started to do well again. She finally had someone to talk to at school, even if Babs was years older than her.

“This isn’t up for discussion Amira.” Bruce glared, his eyes narrowed. “You’re going to Paris where it’s safe, whether you like it or not. Am I clear?”

Amira felt herself shake, hating that she held no power to go against her own father. Amira looked at the Batman in her hand, scowling as she looked at it. Without a second thought, Amira ripped it in half and threw it to the floor. “Why the hell did I ever idolize you?” Amira growled, marching out of the study, ignoring her father’s yells for her to come back.

She almost slammed the doors into Dick’s face, but even when he asked her what happened, she simply glared at him with unshed tears before picking up her pace.

She shut her room door closed as she walked to her bed, or at least attempted to. Just two steps away from it, she collapsed to the floor, grasping the rug underneath her as she let her tears escape.

She let herself scream into the void that was her room.

Amira looked at the boxes surrounding her and then at the empty room before her, feeling her panic rising as she started at the brightly lit attic.

She couldn’t say goodbye to Dick...nor Wally...or Barbara.

Even as she kept locked within her room that week, her mode of communicating with Dick was also cut off.

She was made to leave the manor without a word that Friday morning, to board the jet without a word and be sent off without anything more than a hug from Alfred.

Her father had told her that she would keep doing her class work remotely, seeing as it was the last semester of the school year and there was no point in making her completely withdraw.

But come the next school year, she would be a student at College Francoise Dupont, the school across the street from where she and the Dupain-Chengs would reside.

She knew her father was hurting, but this? This was too much.

She headed up the skylight, thinking fresh air would help to calm her down, but was proved wrong when she saw the blue sky.

How the hell was this supposed to feel like home when it felt nothing like Gotham?

Where were the gray skies? The arcs and cobblestone that hid malicious secrets? Where were the gargoyles that followed her every move? Her home?

Amira went back down, looking at the place she had to call her room. The tall ceiling loomed over her, as if laughing at her.

“How are you doing, Amira?” Tom asked her in French, Amira turning ever so slightly to look at the baker. Right, how did she forget? This was Tom’s hometown. Of course he would feel at home here in Paris while she didn’t.

“Doing alright?” Sabine asked, holding their daughter in her arms. She really forgot about her too, didn’t she?

Amira looked at the couple, letting a smile form on her lips.

“I’m doing alright, Papa, Maman. If anything, just taking in the view.” Amira lied through her teeth.

That’s right. She couldn’t make any trouble for her host parents. While she knew Tom since she was a toddler, she was still figuring out Sabine.

Tom met the woman years ago and married her just two years ago. A year into their marriage, they had Bridgette. Of course, the Dupain-Chengs knew that Amira would once again use their surname while in Paris. It will be a bit confusing, but they knew it would be fine as long as the name was used for school purposes only.

Documents for school were easier to forge than for those for the government, or so Bruce once told them.

“Well, if you need anything,” Tom started.

“We will be right downstairs.” Sabine finished.

With that, the two went down the stairs, leaving Amira to unpack her things.

So this was her new life.

As she unpacked her things, she found Jason’s old journal with a worn out bookmark in her hands. She watched as her tears hit the surface of the journal.

“Jason...just what am I supposed to do?”

Dick couldn’t take it anymore, hell, he wanted to do this when he first heard about Amira leaving the country against her will. Of course, he couldn’t do anything when Alfred practically threatened him if Dick ever did what he was currently doing.

Barging into Bruce’s study, Dick didn’t care if Bruce was in the middle of a phone call. Ending the call, Dick made Bruce look at him.

“What the hell made you think sending Amira by herself to Paris was a good idea?” Dick growled, hating that Bruce remained indifferent.

With a sigh, Bruce set down the phone.

“She’s not alone. She’s with Tom and his wife. They’ll take good care of her.”

“That isn’t the point here Bruce! You’ve literally sent Amira across the Atlantic, away from all the people she knew as family, just because it would give you a peace of mind?”

“It was necessary.”

“It was extreme, even for you!” Dick gritted. “Amira needs us to be by her side, not across an ocean, all by herself!”

“If that's what you came here to talk about, I suggest you leave. I have an important call to-”

“Fine! Be that way! Dick yelled, slamming the door behind as he left the study.

He couldn’t believe it. He really couldn’t.

Sending Amira to a place she didn’t know, a place where she would have trouble with adjusting to all on her own?

How could Bruce do this to her?

Once in his room, Dick huffed, pacing around his room in attempts to calm himself down. As he kept pacing around, he noticed his suitcase peering from under his bed.

That’s right. He was 17, almost 18 in a few months.

Who needed Bruce anyways?

Amira needed a break from unpacking, so taking her keys and her phone (that she managed to buy without her father knowing), Amira went off to explore. Of course, she told her ’parents’ before going off, thanking that they at least understood her, unlike her own father.

Amira sighed as she looked out towards the Seine, wondering why many tourists believed that this river lived up to its fame, the river making her remember one of her father’s stories about her mother.

Her mother and father had come here before, a year before she was born. Talia. That was her mother’s name. While Amira hated the fact that she learned her mother’s name 12 years too late, she was glad to finally have the name of the woman who brought her into this world.

Even if the world was against her.

The two were just two love birds, even if they only knew each other for a year. In that year, they came to the Seine together and placed a lock on that very bridge, thinking they too would end up together. Seems like the universe had other plans for the two.

Amira kept walking around town, getting a feel for it, remembering landmarks in case she ever got lost and didn’t have her phone.

As she passed by a park, she couldn’t help but notice the mob of girls looking at something...or rather, someone.

As she approached the mob, she finally saw what they were all desperately trying to get to see.

“Adrien!” A girl shouted, said boy turning to greet them, causing the girls to let out a deathly squeal, causing Amira to cover her ears.

Damn fangirls and their screams. Just when she thought she got used to them, she was always proven wrong. Then again, Dick’s fanclub wasn’t as rowdy as these girls. They at least respected Dick and his wishes of them not causing trouble for him.

Amira left the mob, wondering why the boy looked so familiar only to look up and see why. His damned face was all over the place.

A model...he was a model...

A decent looking model to be quite honest. But despite being a model, he had nothing compared to-

Amira caught herself mid sentence, wondering why she thought that...

Did she really miss him that much?

Not thinking much of it, she kept walking.

“What do you mean he isn’t home?” Bruce asked, looking up from his documents. He watched as Alfred remained unfazed by Bruce’s raise in tone.

“Master Dick told me to give you this if you should ever ask about his whereabouts.” Alfred handed over an envelope to Bruce. But Bruce simply let it hang, getting up to search for his missing son. “Master Bruce, I suggest you don’t-”

“We have patrol tonight and he should have been here by now, prepping for it. He should be-”

“-in Bludhaven by now.” Alfred completes, making Bruce stop.

“What?”

“Master Dick wanted to tell you that he was heading to Bludhaven.” Alfred said, laying down the envelope Dick had wanted to give to Bruce. “‘Crime never rests’ he said before leaving with nothing but a small suitcase. Although if you ask me, it seems like he’s taken the next step in his life. But what about you, Master Bruce?

Are you ready to take the next step?”

Bruce’s mouth formed a thin line, eyeing the envelope on the desk.

“I guess I better get used to doing patrols by myself then.”

Amira couldn’t believe her eyes. Who the hell would just push an elderly old man as they’re crossing the street? Not even Gothamites did that (unless there was some type of crime going around).

“Are you alright sir?” She asked the elderly man, helping him up and handing him his cane.

Yes, she was the daughter of a billionaire, but that didn’t stop Grandpere Alfred from making sure she was shaped into a decent human being.

“Thank you, young lady.” The elderly man replied, shakily getting up. “I’m terribly sorry for making you-“

“No problem at all sir.” Amira told him with a small smile. “If anything, it gave me a slight feel of home.” Amira bid the old man goodbye, not realizing the perplexed look on his face.

Bruce let out a long sigh as he rubbed his temples, trying to figure out why the universe was against him so much lately.

First, Dick leaves for Bludhaven without a single word. Then he wouldn’t pick up his phone whenever Bruce called, although he did at least read the messages Bruce would leave him.

Second, Amira also stopped picking up the phone as well. Whenever Bruce would call the bakery, Amira would pick up before hanging up promptly. Unlike Dick, Amira didn’t have a phone, so he couldn’t just leave her a message directly for her. He would have to relay it, something he didn’t want to do.

And when he thought his week couldn’t get any worse, it did.

He was at another charity event, when Killer Croc decided to attack. Stuck between a stone and a wall, Bruce was about to resort to possibly exposing himself when a girl crashed in, wearing a bat logo across her chest.

While she was knocked out the minute she came to the scene, it gave Bruce a decent window to change into Batman.

And here he was, standing in an alley with a girl who’s red hair made him think he knew her behind the yellow mask and black cowl.

“What were you thinking?” Batman hissed, looking at the girl in front of him. “What made you think that wearing that outfit would-”

“This was the only way to get your attention.” The girl spoke, unfazed by his furrowed brows. “You need a partner and don’t say you don’t, because your recent fights tend to prove otherwise. The girl cut to the chase, placing her hand on top of her yellow utility belt. “Your attacks are sloppy and you’re biting off more than you can chew to make up for Nightwing’s sudden change of patrol.”

Batman frowned, wondering how much this girl knew about him and his activities.

“It wasn’t sudden. He was going to-”

“Because that clearly explains why Nightwing is only seen patrolling Bludhaven as of five days ago.” The girl says, waiting for Batman’s next excuse. When there was none, the girl continued. “I know why he moved. I know why you’re lagging behind. It’s what happened to Robin...isn’t it?”

The girl knew that it was a touchy subject, she knew and yet she still needed to voice it. She needed Batman to come back to his senses. Gotham needed him to come back.

“Robin-”

“Robin died in your last mission involving Joker. It didn’t take long to connect the dots when all of the evidence was there. No Robin sighting in the past month, no Nightwing seen with you for the past two weeks and Nightwing suddenly appearing in Bludhaven this week? Not exactly being the most discreet here, B.”

“Listen here-” Batman started, only then realizing who this young woman was. How did he not notice her before? After all, she used to follow her father like a chick would follow its mother. “Barbara.” He didn’t miss the way she flinched, her eyes growing wide. “Vigilantism isn't a game.”

“How-”

“If your father found out-”

“He won’t.” Barbara declared. “He may be a detective, but he is my father. It shouldn’t be too hard to make him-”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, although I’m sure he would quickly find out about you doing this.” Batman said, starting the Batmobile. “I’m worried about how it will affect your relationship with your father. What would he say when you finally decide to tell him your…” Batman realising he never heard her alias.

“Batgirl.” Barbara provided.

“What will he say when you finally tell him your Batgirl? That you’re working with Batman, a man he despises?”

“He doesn’t really despise you.” Barbara said, looking down at her feet. “If anything, he’s grateful that you're doing what you’re doing: keeping Gotham safe.” Batman looked at Barbara with calculating eyes before he stepped into the Batmobile.

“Get in. I’m taking you home.”

After dropping Barbara home, Bruce wasn’t expecting to find yet another unwanted visitor in the Cave.

“Hey, um..hi.” The boy said, Batman wondering why the Drakes’ kid was doing in his Cave.

Sure, the two families have never talked to each other, but Bruce made it his business to investigate them thoroughly. “My name’s Tim. Tim Drake. I...I know you’re Bruce Wayne and I knew who Robin was too, but that’s not why I’m here!” Tim quickly added when he noticed Batman approach him with narrowed eyes. “I..I wanted to ask you something else.”

“Then speak.” Bruce growled, towering over the boy, but Tim didn’t back down from his glare.

“Where’s Amira, your daughter?”

Amira looked at the picture on her phone, not realizing how much she was squeezing it until her hand started to ache. Scowling, Amira threw her phone against her wall, yelling as she began to thrash her room. Thankfully, half of her things were still in boxes and the Dupain-Chengs were out for the day.

It hasn’t even been two months since Amira arrived in Paris, not even one year since Jason’s death and yet...and yet! He dared to replace him!

Amira recalled the headline on the Gotham Gazette’s latest issue.

FINALLY BACK! : ROBIN’S FIRST APPEARANCE AFTER TWO MONTHS OF SILENCE

As if that wasn’t enough, when she scrolled further down the article, she was met with another revelation. Batgirl.

She remembered the years of pleading with her father to let her join him, to let her help keep Gotham safe and each time she asked, her father dismissed her out of hand.

She knew how to operate the Batcomputer, she knew she could have worked perfectly with Jason, she knew how he operated, she knew she was ready...but he always shut her down.

And yet when this girl comes around, he quickly accepts her? Just like that?

This girl who came out of nowhere... This girl who probably knows next to nothing on how he operates? On what it meant to wear the infamous bat emblem on her person?

He lets her join him?

Amira stopped throwing her things, quickly going to pick them up and putting them back into place.

Maybe this is why her father sent her to Paris, using his ‘concern for her safety’ as an excuse to kick her out of Gotham. To make her leave so he can replace her with someone else. If that was the case...then fine…

Let him keep replacing them.

Let him do what he wants, because guess what?

She too is going to do what she wants, whether he likes it or not.

Months passed by, it finally being September, Amira finally having adapted to her new home. But just as she started to adapt to her new life, another thing was hurdled her way.

College Françoise Dupont.

Her father insisted she attend this school, one of the few reminders that he had control over every aspect of her life.

Sighing, Amira made her way to school. She stared at the stairs that lead to the school, scoffing at the size of it.

To be honest it looked like the size of her old school’s library. That or perhaps Amira just forgot how Gotham Academy’s library truly was in size.

Knowing that she had no other choice, Amira walked into the school and hunted for her class, looking at her timetable and at the numbers of the doors within the school.

Something she quickly realized was that she was right. This school was small. Too small for her liking.

She managed to find her class, located on the second floor of the building, a bit too close to the stairs if you asked her.

Stepping into her classroom, she was met with several pairs of eyes. Ignoring them, Amira headed to the teacher, remembering everything she had researched before transferring to this school.

Caline Bustier - her main teacher and her teacher for French, literature, and poetry.

From what Amira could remember, Bustier is a supposed passionate teacher, eager to protect and nurture her students, hence why she has had the same class for the past several years. Apparently she begged the principal to let her keep teaching the same class year after year.

While yes, it did show her love for her students, Amira took it as a sign of fear. Fear of not being able to teach another group of students that weren’t the ones she had already taught before. Students that she knew how to control, not having to start from scratch to learn about their weaknesses and strengths. She feared failure, perhaps change.

“Hello, Miss Bustier. My name is Marinette-”

“So you’re Marinette!” Miss Bustier interrupted, causing Marinette to narrow her eyes and scrunch her nose in annoyance. “I’m so glad to have you in our class! Please take a seat!”

Marinette simply stood there, looking at her class and then at Miss Bustier. “I can sit anywhere?”

“Pardon?” Miss Bustier asked, tilting her head a bit. That’s when it hit her. “Oh! That’s right! You’ve recently transferred from-”

“Can I or can I not?” Marinette asked impatiently.

“Y-Yes. You can sit anywhere you want.” Miss Bustier stammered, watching Marinette choose the seat in the front towards her left.

Marinette proceeded to take out her notebook and go over her classes, taking mental notes on what supplies to buy and which she didn’t.

Everything was going swell, the class slowly filling in until a certain brat entered the class.

“Move aside! Your Queen is coming through.” Chloé announces as Sabrina made sure that her path was clear.

Chloé Bourgeois, the daughter of Paris’ mayor. Nothing but a spoiled brat from Marinette’s research. As long as she steered away from Chloe, she was fine.

With Chloé being the last person to enter, Miss Bustier started the class.

Hell. It was utter hell.

Marinette held the urge to drag her hands down her face at how boring French was.

Despite already being 13 year olds, they were going over material that Marinette knew they covered during Ecole Primaire. Why was Miss Bustier still teaching this material?

With the sound of the bell, her class started to move around when Miss Bustier called out Ivan.

Turning around, Marinette watched as Ivan was about to punch Kim. Within seconds, Marinette put herself between Ivan and Kim, staring at Ivan.

“What is going on?” Marinette asked, hating herself that she still managed to get into anti-bullying mode thanks to being in the role for five straight years.

“It's Kim.” Ivan growled, Marinette noticing Kim shift in his place. “I’m going to-“

“Punching him won’t do anything.” Marinette cut off, noticing that Miss Bustier still hadn’t bothered to come up to the two boys to see what was wrong. “If anything, it might prove you guilty rather than innocent.”

Marinette watched as Ivan lowered his arm, only then Marinette noticing the paper in his hand. “Kim. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Kim cried out. “Ivan just suddenly wanted to hit me!“

Marinette glared at him as she took the info, gesturing Ivan to hand over the paper in his hand. Hesitantly, he did.

Reading the paper, Marinette knew who started it. Turning to her teacher, she frowned. “Miss Bustier, I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with my old school, correct?”

“Yes.” Miss Bustier replied. “Gotham Academy, if I remember correctly.” Marinette ignored the waves of gasps that rippled through the class.

Was her school that known? Or simply because Gotham was in the name?

“As you know, Gotham Academy is well known for its anti-bullying program, for I was the head student of that program for 5 years straight. So my question is, what haven’t you moved?”

“Pardon?”

“I said: why haven’t you moved? Instead of rushing here to see what actually happened here or to even dismantle the fight, you decided to just stand there and watch. You called out Kim. While I understand that you were worried about Kim, what about Ivan?”

“Ivan?” Miss Bustier repeated, wondering where exactly Marinette was going with this. “Ivan was going to hit Kim, so of course I was going to worry about Kim! As a teacher-“

“But what about Ivan?” Marinette asked again. How she hated when people didn’t answer her questions properly. “What were you planning to tell him? Or rather, what were you thinking when you saw Ivan raise his hand against Kim?”

“I...I was going to send him to the prin-“

“Then you failed him as a teacher.” Marinette cut off, walking up to Miss Bustier. “As a teacher, you’re supposed to be there for the students, meaning remaining neutral during arguments. As a neutral party, you have to look at both sides of the story.” Marinette slammed the crumbled piece of paper against her desk. “You were just about to make the situation worse by sending the victim to the principal rather than the person who started the problem.”

Marinette went to grab her bag and stared at Miss Bustier. “If you were a teacher at my old school and someone reported this incident the way it almost happened, you would’ve had your teaching license suspended and sent to several anti bullying workshops. You would then be re-evaluated to see if you can teach again. If not, you would be fired then and there. So word of advice Miss Bustier, don’t let the spark turn into a flame when you have the chance to snuff it out.”

Marinette left the classroom, heading to her next class. Hopefully she would be able to convince her gym teacher to get her into the fencing club. She needed to blow off some steam.

There went her chance at asking the teacher to join the fencing team.

As soon as Marinette got to persuade the coach to teach her how to fence, a villain appeared, wrecking havoc with her...whatever it was she was using.

Thanks to the attack, the students were sent home early, Marinette now in her room. She frowned as she paced around in her room, hating her situation.

There was a villain. In Paris. Where her father couldn’t reach her. The irony.

Marinette let out a dry chuckle, not believing this all.

“Father is across the ocean, there’s a villain running loose in the streets and here I am! Missing the opportunity of a lifetime!”

She would have proven herself to her father. That she was up for crime fighting.

But the universe just had to be against her...or so she thought.

As she slumped into her computer chair, she noticed the black box with an ever so familiar red emblem on the top of the hexagon shaped lid.

Something screamed at her to leave it alone while a piece of her whispered to open it.

Prying the box open, Marinette watched as a red orb manifested in front of her, her eyes following it as it morphed into an odd creature. Making sure the creature was what emerged from the box, Marinette looked back down to the box, noticing a pair of earrings.

Ladybug themed earrings...o...okay…

“Hello!” The being spoke, Marinette quickly snapping from her trance. “I know this is all weird to you, but I can explain. My name is Tikki and I am a Kwami. To be more precise, the Kwami of creation.”

Kwami of creation...that implies that there are others like this creature out there.

“Tikki...although I want to say that it’s a pleasure to meet you, I know there’s a reason behind you gracing me with your presence.” Tikki nodded, handing Marinette over the earrings.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I need you to take down Remediator.”

After Tikki laid down the groundwork on how her miraculous worked, Marinette got to work.

She managed to track down Remediator, surveying her action before deciding on a plan to take down the...akuma?

No, that was the name of the thing that possessed her teacher. Villain would be the better term.

As she watched Remediator ‘fix’ people’s problems, Marinette couldn’t help but notice the heart located on Remediator’s chest fill up, almost as if it fed off - no.

It did feed off of the problems Remediator supposedly fixed. Now, how exactly was she-

“Get away from them!” someone shouted, Marinette looking to the direction of which the voice came from that was about to attack Remediator.

A blond boy cladded in black -black leather to be more precise- extended his bo staff to try and fling the ‘villain’ away from her new set of prey.

Sighing, Marinette sprung from her hiding spot and prevented the boy from hitting the ‘villain,’ earning a glare and a ‘hey’ from the boy.

“What were you thinking?” Marinette growled, crossing her arms.

“Well hello to you too.” The boy said, eyeing Marinette’s odd choice of wearing a black slit miniskirt and short black cape over her red skin tight bodysuit. “To think such a bossy-” the boy promptly shut up when Marinette glared at him.

“I’m going to forget what you just said if you answer my previous question. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of defeating the villain. Isn’t that our job?” The boy asked in response.

“Yes, it’s our job to-”

“Then let’s go! The people-”

“The people are alright.” Marinette spoke, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If anything, the akumatized person isn’t really doing much.” Marinette filled in, watching the boy tilt his head. How did he not notice the victim actually helping solve people’s problem despite being dubbed a villain? “Are you being serious right now?” Marinette dragged her hands over her face. “Are you telling me you haven’t been trying to investigate the victim to see if they’re truly hurting anyone?”

When she saw the boy slowly shake his head, Marinette let out a heavy sigh.

“What? I see a villain, I quickly head over and fight them off. It’s our job after all.”

“Our job is to protect the people, but that doesn’t mean we have to ruthlessly attack the victim or villain. Since we don’t know the full capacity of their powers, we have to proceed cautiously. We also have to make sure they destroy as little property as possible.” Marinette warned, the boy arching a brow. Just how much did he not realize? “We don’t know if the damage they cause is permanent or not...we don’t want innocent people to die, or do we?”

She watched as the boy’s eyes widened, only then his role finally sinking in. Marinette watched as the boy looked down at his hands, trembling more as he kept staring at them.

“So what are we supposed to do?” The boy asked Marinette, looking at her with fear in his eyes.

“De-escalate the situation.” Marinette said, only then realizing something. “What’s your name?”

“Adri-”

“Not your actual name you idiot. We mustn’t know each other's identities under any circumstance!” Marinette warned. “So, what’s your alias?” The boy hummed before he smiled.

“Chat. Chat Noir. What about you?”

“Ladybird.” Ladybird provided quickly, raising a brow when Chat Noir looked at her in...admiration? “What?”

“Not only did you already have your outfit down, but also your name. Have you been Ladybird for a while?”

“Nope. Been Ladybird for a few hours.” The two were snapped from their conversation when they heard a scream nearby. “Come on Chat, we have a victim to help.”

After an hour of trying to calm the victim down, but coming to no avail (since Ladybird couldn’t exactly bring her Marinette to her), the duo resorted to fighting the victim, finding her akuma to be trapped in a piece of paper tucked in her skirt pocket.

Ordering Chat to take Miss Bustier back to the school, Ladybird stood below the Eiffel Tower.

“De-evilize.” Ladybird said as she captured the akuma, purifying it with her yo-yo and then releasing it. “Miraculous Ladybug!” Ladybird shouted as she then threw her yo-yo in the air as Tikki had told her, watching as millions of ladybugs erupted from her tiny yo-yo and spread throughout Paris, fixing any damage and reversing the victim’s effects on any person inflicted by the victim’s power.

“That was amazing!” A girl shouted from across the police tape, Ladybird turning to see her classmate...or rather her seat ‘buddy’. Alya is her name...if Marinette remembered correctly. “Say, can we know the name of the hero who just finished saving Paris?” Alya asked, smiling as she watched Ladybird approach her.

“The name’s Ladybird, but I am no hero. I’m just doing what I must to keep Paris safe.” With those words, Ladybird ran off, using her yo-yo to lift herself onto a building and disappear into the distance.

Stepping into her room, Amira finally let herself relax.

“Tikki, spots off.” Amira recited, watching her transformation wear off. Just as she was about to ask Tikki for her end of the deal, a voice spoke up.

“What is the meaning of this?” Amira whipped her head around, her eyes wide before narrowing upon seeing her father.

“What are you doing here?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find a way to keep knowing of your activities outside of Gotham?” Bruce asked, looking at her monitors at her desk. It was only then that Amira understood what he meant by that.

“You hacked into my devices from across the ocean?” Amira gritted. “Was isolating me not enough for you, so you had to resort towards invading my privacy too?” She didn’t get a response.

“When I heard that there was a villain in Paris-” Bruce continued, walking to her small window that was across from where he stood.

“Don’t-” a whine. “She wasn’t a villain! The true mastermind manipulated her emotions and took advantage of it to turn her-”

“That doesn’t matter.” Bruce stated. “She was still putting you in danger, whether directly or indirectly. But judging from your entrance and outfit, I’m going to guess that it was directly.”

“I was able to defend myself. I was able to defeat her.” Amira pointed out, not bringing up that thanks to her suit being magical, all of her injuries were healed once dropping her transformation. She didn’t want to give him any more flaws to tear apart. “Some random stranger had more confidence in me being able to take down a villain than you ever-”

“They were lucky that you knew what you were doing. That you had experience in martial arts and weaponry. Or did you forget who trained you?” Bruce reminded, making Amira shrink into herself, because...he had a point.

“But-”

“Not to mention how much of a deadweight your partner was.”

“He-”

“He relied on you to keep catching him, to keep directing him. All he did was follow your orders, never once thinking for himself or trying to guess your next step. What good is a partner if all they do is create more work for you?” Bruce asked, watching Amira shut up. “Did you really think this situation-”

“Yes.” Amira answered. “And I wasn’t wrong. I-”

Amira was cut off by a video appearing on her main monitor’s screen. A video addressed to her...or rather Ladybird.

He introduced himself as Hawkmoth, declaring himself as Ladybird’s and Chat Noir’s enemy. Declaring that he was after their miraculous and wouldn’t stop until he had them. Once the video ended, Amira felt her father’s shadow loom over her.

“Hand them over.”

“What?” Amira squeaked out, making sure to keep looking at her father. She couldn’t afford to hand them over. So to prevent that, she had to avoid looking at the box at her desk and try to not shield the earrings she was wearing. “No! I’m not going to hand them over just because you said so!”

“Amira, hand them over. If that man is after these miraculouses, then I need you to hand them over. I won’t allow him-”

“I vowed to protect them! To keep them away from the enemy that is Hawkmoth and he will not get his hands on them! Nor will I allow you to have them either.” Amira promised, taking a stance. “If you want them from me, you’ll have to-“ Amira called back her transformation, watching her father stare at her with wide eyes. “You will have to take them from my cold dead body! After all, you don’t need me, just like you didn’t need Jason! We are so easily replaceable after all.”

“Amira, what are you-”

At that moment, her ceiling began to rumble, causing the two of them to go on alert. Soon, someone crashed through her small skylight, cement falling into her room while dust filled in the remaining space.

With the dust making her lose sight of her father, Amira kept her guard up when she quickly turned around to avoid being hit from behind.

“Amira! Where are you?” She heard her father ask, but she didn’t respond. Who knew if this was part of his plan. Who knew if this was his way of telling her he would get his way no matter what.

Amira dodged another attack to her side, Amira crouching to avoid it while also sweeping her leg under her opponent, only to find out he was able to fly. Looking up to the person before her, she froze.

He was glowing green, also wearing a domino mask across his face.

“Sorry kid. But we were left with no choice but to take you by force.”

“Wha-” Amira’s words were cut short when she felt someone else behind her.

The last thing Amira remembered was a beautiful woman giving her an apologetic look as Amira fell to the ground. Had she remained conscious for a while longer, she would’ve heard her father crying out her name, agony coating his voice.

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #amira wayne

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holyhalliwells · 3 years

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imo, the show was often unilaterally focused on Piper, but only on what she could do for others (Piper the wife and Piper the mother) rather than who she was as a person. Piper's individual characterization was lost sometime around s5 as soon as she got pregnant, and being a mother and wife pretty much became her sole defining characteristic for the rest of the series. I would be very interested to hear what you define as Piper's mental issues/trauma, bc as you say it doesn't get said enough

this has been in my inbox forever and i’m just getting around to it so my apologies.

but okay. so. yes. i think a lot of tv shows fall into this weird place where like. all of their characters begin with these kinda vague personalities because you’re just getting to know them. and as the show goes on, you pick up more pieces and stuff . and that’s great. that’s interesting and entertaining and it takes you on a journey and all. but often what happens is many shows fall into this pit where writers either get lazy, they change, or whatever, and the actors are tired of playing the part or whatever . and like. the characters become like. caricatures of themselves. and it just gets exhausting to watch because they’re not like. real people anymore.

Piper's individual characterization

so now for the charmed thing. so from the beginning. i have loved piper. like she’s the middle sister, overlooked, quiet, reserved, pessimistic but also realistic, gentle, thoughtful, all that. we see right away that she loves to cook .. she’s so happy her family is back together. she kept in touch with phoebe behind prue’s back. but she’s loyal to the both of them. her first idea was to have a reunion dinner when phoebe came home. she’s literally so cute n she deserves a hug. but no like. as we go on, we see that she wants to be good, she wants a stable life with no more loss, she Loves Love !! like. she wants to just be happy , open her own restaurant n just cook. she’s also so shy .. definitely panicky and anxious. and she doesn’t trust herself. she’s skeptical of everything, and she’s very thoughtful when it comes to big situations. even in the early days with leo and into season 2, she mentioned a few things about like “i’ve been thinking a lot about this...” and you can see she’s good at communicating with people. she’s also got these other dimensions to her like . she is interested in lots of cuisine types, she loves to read (and is a camus fan !!) , she drives a jeep (which i wanna know how she got bc i have questions), when she found out she was a witch her first thought was just . i need to go and see if i am still a good person . and she went to church. prue was surprised to learn that piper enjoys knitting. in the early seasons (especially mid-late season 3) we saw her with her plants and all. she’s just this natural peacekeeper. but like. we literally got a crying scene in the second episode because she was so conflicted about this. and she’s such a deep and complex character that i fell in love with so fast . and like . literally my favourite fictional character to exist . genuinely holly breathed so much life into piper . anyway . so. here’s the thing.

being a mother and wife pretty much became her sole defining characteristic for the rest of the series

like. piper was who i described above. and like . i kinda think . a bit. that like . the writers . especially in s4 . were like . hmm well . she’s just lost prue, she’s gonna be grieving . and like we need more for her. so. she’s been married to leo for the better part of a year, been with him for like . 3 years. so. let’s maybe consider giving them a kid but not just yet . just Content kinda stuff. so anyway they drop little hints in here and there starting in like . 4x07 i think? which . brain drain really paid the rent . fully just. holly did so well. but like. that ep was just. a neat way of looking into her mind and seeing the horrors of manipulation and gaslighting and everything . and of course holly knocked it out of the park. but at that point, they were kinda like . hmm . kids ? and they started toying with the idea, having piper and leo consider it, talk about it, they had paige and phoebe ask about it , all of that good stuff. as you do. made for some funny tv at some points. and like . i really, really Get It . when piper’s like . ahh the baby wouldn’t be safe around here !!!! like. Girl, Valid . your sister just died and like . you went on forever about how she was The Most Powerful One . The Strongest One . and yet she still died . so she’s like ??? am i next ?? and like obv it doesn’t make sense for her to jump on this train of like . i’m gonna have a kid !!!! so she’s really valid in her thought process there. and like. after having wyatt . i think the writers really . idk. couldn’t do waaay too much with her character anymore because i feel like . to an extent, anything she does will be scrutinized bc i’m not just . saying this . i rlly feel like sometimes piper’s the easiest to hate. like idk why but i loved her. but anyway. if she stays at home with wyatt and doesn’t wanna fight demons n all . then she’s selfish towards her sisters n she’s awful n prue wouldn’t have let her do that !!!! etc . but if she fought demons it’s like . uh sweetie you have a child . really ??? why put yourself in a situation that might have you ending up like patty 2.0 ... bc i could do a Whole post on how patty’s situation messed piper up the most. but anyway.

it’s the way i’m fully rambling so if you’re reading this . i love you . anyway okay . so . i think in a tv show you’ve gotta kinda check boxes. the best tv shows have characters you see yourself in . you relate to them. you hear them and understand their decisions and actions and thoughts. the things they do just makes sense 2 you. so like. with prue, anyone married to their job could relate to her. any oldest sibling could see themselves in her, you know ? she was hard-working, committed, logical, protective. and with phoebe, anyone who couldn’t “settle down” in their early 20s related 2 her, anyone who felt like the outcast of the family, the “screw-up” .. right. makes sense. she was so kind, caring, had-your-back kinda girl. we all love those. paige was like . the new kid, trying to fit in, creative, curious, and definitely a lifelong learner. and then there’s piper who was shy, resistant, really just wanted to be normal. and loved. and i think everyone could kinda identify with at least one of the sisters regardless of where you stood in your own family. so as the show went on, it’s like . they still want you to keep watching and keep being able to identify with them because it’s not like they’re humans with normal lives so they’ve already kinda lowkey got that going against them . so their more “human” and normal lives... we’ve gotta be able to identify with them to be able to invest time. so they had prue always working, having trouble balancing love and work, looking out for her family. we had phoebe kinda living her life, getting her career going, then kinda wanting a family. we had paige learning magic and being super interested and involved and then getting married. and we had piper who had her career pretty early on, got married, and had kids. like. i think the big thing is the marriage and kids. and when you’re a mother . the only mother really in the show, the show lowkey centres around you . like. for starters, the show usually is in the manor, and if you’re a mother, you’re very likely at home, esp with young kids. so i think that alone kinda was like . huh yeah . won’t see piper out waaay too much anymore i guess !!! but no like . there’s That. that’s kinda. the thing that really can’t change with the show . like. piper’s got kids now and a husband and very, very likely . her life will be centred around her home. which. listen she’s wanted that i think - the stability . she’s wanted that forever. and this is the form it came in. but i should stop rambling here and cut to the point .

Piper's mental issues/trauma

disclaimer: i’m not diagnosing her, i’m just speculating based off of my own experiences with mental health

so. okay. very early on. we saw that anxiety. like. yes . she was nervous about like a whole new life experience . or whatever we’re gonna call it when you figure out you’re a witch . but like she was Anxious . like. crying in the attic over being a bad person . needing phoebe to talk her down by telling her she’s such a caring person, she’s always doing things for other people . and then there’s the whole anxiety that comes with. my family’s falling apart because my sisters are fighting so i use really awkward methods of getting out of things . like using humour as a coping mechanism !!! which. gave us some iconic one-liners. but that’s beside the point . anyway. point is. early on, that anxiety was there. there’s an ep in season 1 where she’s literally entering a panic attack in her kitchen and phoebe’s using a menu to cool her down. like. Yikes! and then she’s just. her awkward self around everyone but that’s endearing and is just part of her personality . and i think a lot of the anxiety stemmed from childhood. we heard a few times about how prue and phoebe had boyfriends growing up, were always pretty and popular and all. phoebe was popular, too, just, in the other crowd. but nonetheless, piper faded into the background, doing well in math - well enough to go off and be a banker . and like. she sacrificed a lot for grams. she stayed in san francisco ... we all know the girl had the marks for stanford or something . like. though . still, i think she liked the stability of home and prob would’ve stayed . but in 3x17 she’s all !!! grams !!! the doctor said no caffeine !!! and when grams was taking the pic of them outside and she had an episode , piper was all !!!! shallow breaths !!! like. it was clear piper was the one taking her to the appointments and footing the bill. like. she literally became a banker just bc it had benefits n stuff. like. poor girl really thought . anyway that’s a whole spiral. but no. like she really sacrificed The Most for her family and everyone still thought she was selfish for wanting to move out . when like back then grams was literally ... sick ... and prue was out here moving out and phoebe was nowhere to be found . so. that . definitely would have added to her anxiety about even wanting to do anything for herself because she’ll be perceived as selfish in a heartbeat. even if it’s not Mean . it’s just. she’d never risk it. but there’s the anxiety. there are a few lil things here n there about how she gets nervous n stuff, she represses things (3x07 i think was where phoebe said piper represses her anger n just sucks it up n does whatever) . she literally cancelled her doctor’s appointment Twice . anyway. it still angers me. then in season 7 . patty and victor were like . oh she had night terrors that were so bad we took her to the doctor ! and i just ... honey . baby. she thought she caused the divorce. at 4? 5? she watched victor leave on her 5th birthday, watched a demon attack her, grams, and victor. prue said she didn’t cry at patty’s funeral and i’ll make a safe bet that piper did. and i think growing up without patty was strange for sure. prue had more memories and phoebe had none. and piper had fragments of this person everyone loved . and she was stuck between knowing her and not knowing her. and when patty was sent to her for her wedding day, (as well as in 1x17) . both times when patty hugged them . prue and phoebe hugged her, eyes closed n all. while piper was on the outside, eyes open . looking numb as all hell . and you know. i rlly think she was Giving Them That because phoebe didn’t get her and prue kinda . in a way. lost more of her . if that makes sense ?? and i just. patty really was like . they sent me to You. and 5 seconds later . piper’s like . they sent mom to Us !!! and it’s that idea of sacrifice and never having anything for yourself because she was never just . given anything for herself . everything in her life has been a sacrifice and as a mother, that’s perpetuated. she can assume that role with more of a purpose . like. people won’t really feel sorry for her now as the “forgotten” sister, they won’t try and coddle her or anything. and another thing. control. piper craved stability and control. i think while cooking was something she loved, it also gave her a lot of control . she could control her whole kitchen . even in season 8 .. maybe vaya con leos actually . leo mentioned how much piper craves control. and the control motif makes sense with her powers too. like. piper craved control so much that her powers allowed her to control things down to the atom. so there’s the whole anxiety and needing to control things to ease her anxiety and all. there’s That whole thing.

and then we get to the infamous season 5 fearless spell . ms girl really sat in the attic just writing everything on the wall and it’s the way i screenshotted it and like . zoomed in and tried deciphering it . and like . there’s words like “stop” and i think “sister” is in there a few times, so is “loss” or “lost”. when i watch it next i’ll grab a cap because it’s . disturbing. girl was so scared . literally was writing a spell to get rid of her fears . she also writes Fear . as in. capital F . and like. yeah that’s deep but i do it too like i emphasize words with a capital letter . and like holly marie combs might just have quirky n fun writing but like ... capital F . for Fear. for real . that’s . trauma !!! and she also was having panic attacks at the beginning of season 5. let’s not forget those. which ... we should’ve gotten more of an explanation for . i hope that girl is getting help bc she was Going Through It . and in season 7 when zankou reads her diary . firstly. we Knew this girl kept a diary like . for Sure . she did. and just that little excerpt of when prue died . oops. i’d pay big money to see the rest because again i just think she’s got such a complex mind and like. i’d be so interested to read that. and i think everything re: prue is just Awful for her. like . idk if this is just something quirky i noticed but obv we know prue died in may 2001 . but at the end of 4x03, when piper goes 2 paige’s work 2 bring her muffins !! soft !!! the calendar on one of the desks reads july 2001 ... and i really just. ms girl. i Know they prob just filmed the ep in july but it honestly tracks that she’d be so awfully upset about everything and just . barely able to do anything but cook . for 2 months. like. honey. baby. i wanted 2 just cuddle her bc she was so sad. and like. she tells paige she’s having “good hours” and “not so good hours” . she’s going by the Hour . by the Hour . just. need i say more . i’m so . but no like. if anything like i could see her having like . depression where she’s high-functioning and like just . walking depression i guess ?? like . not even after prue. i think in general. like . she definitely has a melancholic temperament and a type 6 enneagram (the skeptic). that’s For Sure . but i think. just. she’s always just had time to think bc she’s always alone, reading, knitting, cooking, tending to her plants, all that. and i just . think. she has issues. and i think prue knew that. of all people. and i think her knowing that . and then dying. destroyed piper. she lost the last person that was truly a constant in her life . like they shared a roof over their heads forever. and then she was just . gone . and piper was suddenly left to pick up the pieces . and become the oldest sister . and i’m So glad she didn’t fully assume her personality. i’m glad she stayed as piper . just. she’s more cynical and snarky and defensive and cold and that’s okay. she’s hurting. she’s always gonna hurt . and i think it makes her human . she’s pessimistic and sad and has a short fuse at times . but just. again. i love her to bits and i think those issues make her more relatable for me. because while many like to say she became selfish and a negative person and just . awful to be around . i’d say the opposite . i won’t sit and apologize or justify things. also i don’t think piper’s done anything wrong . i just think she’s hurt. she’s been wronged so many times. and she’s .... scared. i think she’s scared . and in season 5 “sympathy for the demon” we learn her true biggest fear is her happiness being stolen away. and like . it’s not that she’s scared she won’t be happy. she’s scared all of the good she’s got will be taken from her . and that’s . terrifying . so . i see why she’s so snarky and bitter and tired and all . she’s terrified of things being taken from her like they have been her whole life. and as i watch the show i really like to just keep that in mind as i get further and further in because yes. she did become a mother and a wife and we saw her arguing with leo a lot and their marriage falling apart and That Whole Era . we saw how it kind of took over her life but i think it happens . i think she even said at one point . i’ve been so many things to so many people, i don’t know who i am anymore . and i think it sums her up perfectly. she doesn’t know who she is because she’s someone to everyone . she’s just. nobody to herself except this scared little girl who just wants Something . Anything . to make sense . some Stability . and her babies, her husband, and her sisters . are all she has for that idea of stability to make sense in her mind. and it was an easy hole to fall into - the Mother - but i think she jumped in. because at the Very Least . nobody could take that title away from her . regardless of how hard they tried .

#i really cannot believe i did an entire ted talk #like did anyone actually read this #if you did . wow #piper halliwell deserved better #tw: mental health #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #tw: panic attack #but no listen #she deserved so much better #holly paid rent #ask me #charmed #ramble #💌

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frustratedpoetwrites · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter Additional Tags: Morning After, Goodbyes, Sharing a Shower, reluctant goodbyes Series: Part 2 of The Marauders Pub Soho Summary:

The morning after a night of passion Lily has to leave a soundly sleeping James, but she doesn't want to.

Lily lay staring at the skylight, and watched the patch of sky turn from black to indigo. She just gazed without moving, hardly even blinking as it gradually grew lighter and lighter. She had not been able to find any rest for more than a few brief snatches, as tired as she was. Her whole body zinged with electricity, her brain abuzz with everything that had happened last night and had continued to happen throughout the night. She glanced over towards the body sleeping soundly beside her, the sheets pooled around his waist showing his toned back. He had acquired some new tattoos in the six years since she had last seen him. When she’d remarked on the delicately detailed Lily that was now inked on his right side sweeping across his ribs, he had quipped back that it marked the spot where she had stuck her knife in him when she’d left him to pursue her career. That remark had stung more than she wanted to admit, even though she did deserve it.

She had told him last night she never wanted to leave his side again, and she had meant it. Especially at that moment, standing in the bar he basically built, surrounded by the memories of their childhood. Engulfed by the overwhelming scent of James himself. At that moment it had been so easy to say yes to all of his questions, say yes to coming here to his place instead of going back to her hotel as she had planned. She wished she could stay in this moment, with the old day finished and the new not yet begun. In this bed with this man forever. But all too soon she would have to leave. She needed to get on a plane in a few hours. If she didn’t, then any dream she had to live in London permanently would be gone.

She glanced around James's attic room trying to see if he even had a clock. She was amazed that he still lived like this. There was a rail for his clothes and a bed so low it was almost like the mattress was on the floor. That was it. She hoped he didn’t live like this all the time, but she suspected his life and energy was spent at the bar.

It had looked so beautiful, the large dark polished oak panels and the brass rail, the small stage with the piano sitting proudly. And all the pictures on the walls of their schooldays. It had always been his dream to run a bar, and the four Marauders had made it a successful reality, but she knew who had been driving it from day one, and she was incredibly proud of him for that.

She reached for her clutch bag and fumbled in it for her phone. It did not light up when she tapped the screen. Her battery must have died.

Fuck.

She glanced over at James, still sleeping soundly, and contemplated waking him, but she knew he was exhausted. She had wiped him out, she thought to herself, suppressing a giggle, it had been a wonderful night. He had not forgotten any of the things he used to do to make her whole body hum, and he had learned a few new things too she had discovered. His strength and stamina had greatly increased. Not that she had expected him to hold himself chaste for her, but she still had a pang of jealousy at the thought that other women had touched him, had been with her James. Had they asked about his tattoo? She always thought of him as hers, even though she hadn’t exactly expected to ever come back to him that day she had left. Any time before now when she had considered it she talked herself out of it because she was convinced he would be with someone else.

She rolled over onto her back again, and looked up at the skylight.

What time was it?

She’d hoped she wouldn't have to do this but she slid off the edge of the bed and took James’s phone out of the pocket of his jeans and opened it, shaking her head at the stubborn distrust for technology that meant he still used an old flip phone. Although at the moment Lily was grateful because she didn’t have to worry about unlocking it.

She tapped in the digits for her assistant's number as she crept into his ensuite, slipping on the dressing gown that was on a hook behind the door.

The phone rang just once before she heard an unsure “Hello?”

“Hey, Jess it’s me…”

“Lily!” came the scream, causing her to jump and nearly drop the phone. “Where the fucking hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all night. Your meeting has been moved up, you need to get to the airport right now!”

“What? Oh, fuck!” Lily took a breath and closed her eyes as her assistant kept rambling over the phone, talking so fast Lily could hardly understand them. “Jess, Jess, Jessie!” She tried to speak urgently and sharply without making too much noise. “I need you to bring me my bag and my suit, the green one. Put an extra pair of underwear in my bag.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, but your overnight bag won’t be enough, I've had to pack your suitcase, you’ll be staying for a week. They’ve sent a whole itinerary, but when we left Hong Kong I didn’t think to pack any of your formal wear. I’ve arranged for the concierge to book a fitting for after your first meeting, once you’ve checked in. Where are you anyway? I need to let Terrence know where we need to come and get you.”

Lily went to answer then realised she had no actual idea of the address. It wasn’t far from the bar, she didn’t think. But she had been interested in other things besides looking out the car window to notice what neighbourhood they were in. Lily looked up as the door to the bathroom swung open gently, revealing a conscious James leaning against the frame wearing only his battered looking jeans, his tousled hair framing his tired-looking face and his glasses perching on the end of his nose, as if they were mere moments from falling off.

She let the phone fall from her ear slightly as he continued to stare at her, a wry smile reaching only the edge of his lips.

“Something tells me you aren’t staying for breakfast.” His tone was light but she heard the resignation behind it. As she looked over at her childhood sweetheart, an idea struck her.

“Jess? You still there? Pick me up outside the Marauders’ Pub in Soho. Yeah? And Jess? I'm gonna need another plane ticket.”

“Well, okay boss but they are sending you a priv…..” Lily did not hear the last of her assistant’s words as she closed the flip phone and tossed it back to him.

“I can't believe you still use that antique.” He caught it deftly in his left hand and dropped it into his back pocket.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you dick around with my life again,” he replied, barely even trying to mask the disappointment.

“As much as I'd love to have this argument again, I really need you to pack yourself a bag. Do you have a good suit that fits you?”

He shook his head and blinked at her as she brushed past him to his rail of clothes and started looking through them. He still had some nice attire here, a lot of it she remembered from their life before.

“Lily, wait,” he called after her but she took no notice. She had no time. Already, in her head, she was mapping out what she needed to do. A whole week with these people. The one day originally planned would have been torture, but this... If she had back up maybe she could make it work. “Stop.” He placed a hand on hers as it rested on the next coathanger. She looked up into his gorgeous eyes as they shone with all the colours as his emotions played out across his face. He was always so expressive. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’re your own boss, you could take the time off. It’s not like you’re the only one in charge. What about Sirius? Or Remus? Or even Pete?” She paused, “Is Pete doing okay? I thought he wanted to go in a, erm, different direction but I saw his name up there with the rest of you?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Pete is a silent partner, he helps out when he can but his wife made him join their family business, he helps by keeping them away.” His hand dropped to his side. “Lily I can’t afford to just drop everything, everybody else has other responsibilities, I’m the only one left to run it and I won't let it fail. My staff depends on me.”

“James, this is me telling you I don’t want to leave you again. I don’t want to go on this trip without you by my side, I could use someone in my corner. I could also use a devilishly handsome, charming, charismatic–” he raised an eyebrow at her seductive tone but didn’t stop her putting her hands on his chest, tracing the antlers that spread across them.

“My tattoos aren’t very corporate,” he murmured, his voice sounding deep and throaty. she shrugged in reply,

“You’d be surprised what people hide under their suits these days.” She told him with a twinkle, sobering when his lips thinned. “Please James. I need you.” She hadn’t realised how true those words were until she had spoken them to the universe.

“I’m sorry Lily, but my staff need me more. They rely on me.”

“So you’ve never taken a day off? Never had to call in sick?” Before he could answer her questions an idea struck her. “What if I pay your staff for the week? How much would that be?” He stood for a moment apparently stunned then started laughing and stepped away from her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She tried not to look upset at his reaction to her suggestion. She stood watching him and waited for his mirth to subside.

“Oh, you are actually serious? You want to pay me so I will spend time with you?” He shook his head as his mirth still rippled through him. “This isn’t Pretty Woman and I’m not some, some...rentboy you picked up off the street.”

Now he sounded angry. James’ phone started buzzing in his back pocket. She had not thought that offering to pay his staff would equate to her hiring him as an escort service. Her brain hadn’t gone that way at all. She let him answer his call, as she rushed back to the bathroom for a much needed shower and tried to clear her head.

James may have skimped on bedroom furniture but he hadn’t skimped on his wet room. The shower was a walk-in style and big enough for four people, the naturally textured tiles on her feet were warm as she walked in, the large slabs of highly polished sand-coloured stone on the walls were so neatly fitted she couldn’t even see the joins.

Turning on the shower filled the room with hot steam and the reassuring splats of water droplets peppering the tiles. Stepping into it, she gasped at the pressure. It was like standing in a tropical rainstorm. She just stood there unmoving, letting the water rush over her enjoying the sensation as it beat down on her head.

“That was your PA on the phone. I gave them this address so you can leave from here.” James said as he stepped into the bathroom like they did this kind of thing all the time. “Thought you might want to have some fresh clothes to wear.”

“You really won’t come?” She asked, trying one last time. She forced herself to keep her eyes forward when she realised he was joining her by the sound of his jeans hitting the tiled floor.

Despite their recent intimacy, or perhaps because of it, being this close to his naked body turned her core white-hot. She tried very hard not to react as she felt his naked skin brush up against hers. His arm reached past and grabbed an unlabelled metal bottle from the small alcove. Then his fingers were in her hair and her nostrils were filled with the scent of an English summer garden.

“Is it okay that I join you in here? Thought it would save some time.”

“Yes, okay, it’s absolutely fine,” she tried to keep her voice as neutral as his but even she could hear the breathiness.

“I told your assistant I can’t, it’s not my scene at all,” he told her conversationally, as if he wasn’t standing butt naked behind her in the shower. He was trying to calm her down, trying to talk about what needed to be talked about. The fact they were taking a shower together didn’t seem to phase him at all. Determinedly, she tried to follow his lead.

“This is not me running away from you. I need you to understand that.” She hummed in pleasure as his fingers massaged deeper into her hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you, offering to pay.”

“I’m still not sure if I find it more funny or offensive,” he began. “I can’t say I’m not tempted to run away with you, but you know as well as I do how much of a distraction I would be. You need to be at your best. I will be fine, I’ll just have to trust you’ll come back. That you're not making me the poor jilted lover once more.” He told her. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, wanted to say all the things that she had agonised about saying as she lay awake beside him in his bed, but no words could adequately explain how she was feeling. So she turned and reached for him, pushing her fingers up across his stubble studded cheeks into his hair and kissing him soundly. Breaking the kiss he tilted her head back as his lips dragged kisses across her throat. She didn’t need to ask where his mind was right now, she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach. All too soon her brain caught up with her and soundly put on the brakes. “Not that I don’t enjoy where this is going, but we need to stop.” She took a few quick breaths as his hands continued to soap her breasts. “I don’t have the time and I’m a little tender.”

“You were the one who started things, Evans. I was just helping you wash,” he said innocently, amusement dancing in his eyes. But he did take his hands off her body and even though she had asked him to, she mourned the loss of contact. “In all honesty, I don’t think I have it in me right now to perform at my best anyway.”

“Let’s just put this on pause for now then shall we?” She told him, giving him a gentle kiss, hoping he understood how much he continued to mean to her. Lily dipped her head to rinse the bubbles out of her hair. It felt like silk as she combed her fingers through it.

“What is that shampoo? It’s amazing!”

“It’s a prototype. Remus’ company makes it, the only thing that’s come close to making my hair behave. He’s made it his personal mission to tame it. He gives me a new formula just about every week.” He pointed to the small bathroom cabinet above the sink. “The conditioner’s in there, it's one you have to leave in. I put towels on the hook.” She stepped aside once she was rinsed, letting him have the full force of the shower.

“Does he always make it smell like flowers?”

“Yup.” She expected him to elaborate but when he didn’t she just let it go and stepped out of the shower. She found the small spray bottle in the cabinet simply labelled conditioner and scrunched some into her hair as she watched James wash his. The bubbles slid down his frame in ways that made her wish she could just step back in there with him.

Lily wished she could continue to stare at him but her logical brain was kicking in to tell her all that she still had to do. Moving back to the bedroom, she twisted her hair up out of the way while she looked for anywhere he would store things. There wasn’t even a cupboard in the bedroom so she padded her way through to the living space. She barely remembered it from the night before, and she was stunned at how minimally he lived.

It was a beautiful apartment, the exposed red brick looked amazing with the warm honey-coloured wooden floor. The living space was a good size for London, the kitchen looked brand new with a wooden worktop that matched the floor and clean white cupboards. She spotted the coffee machine, and hunted in the cupboards to see if he had any beans, suppressing her irritation when every one was empty.

The more she looked around his place, the less it felt like he lived here at all. There was a giant modular brown leather sofa taking up the majority of space in the living area, a coffee table that looked like it was made out of granite, and a giant tv on the wall.

“What is this place to you James Potter?” She mused as she looked around. She was tempted to start rummaging in drawers (if there were any) but it felt like possibly a step too far for now.

The intercom buzzed impatiently making her jump guiltily and nearly drop her towel. As she stared at the white box on the wall and wondered how to operate it James came striding out of the bedroom holding a hand towel around his waist, hair still dripping. He lifted the receiver then buzzed to let the person come up. “It’s your assistant.” He explained before vanishing back to the bedroom.

Lily stood looking through the peephole until she saw her assistant's blonde head appear from the stairs.

She opened the door and ushered them in quickly. Taking the bag from them awkwardly with one hand.

Jessie looked around and hummed appreciatively. “This is nice, you could do a lot with this place. When are they moving in?”

“I don’t know,” Lily replied quietly. “I’m going to go change. Can you play nice with James, please? It would be great if you two get on.”

“Well I’ll behave if he will,” Jessie swept an invisible strand of hair out their face before relenting to Lily’s reproachful look. “Alright, alright. When we spoke on the phone they were pleasant so I can be too.”

“Great, I’ll be super quick,” as she made her way back into the bedroom James stepped out wearing that same pair of jeans he seemed incredibly fond of and one of his many black Marauders Pub t-shirts. He put out a hand to stop her as she tried to slip past him.

“I’m going to get out of your hair,” he said quietly. She could tell by the tone he didn’t want to be here when she left, didn’t want to be the one left waving by the door. She understood that in an instant, saw it in his sad eyes, and the hesitant touch he placed on her arm.

“Okay.” With a glance at her assistant she walked him back into the bedroom. “This was not how I wanted this to go,” she said, keeping her voice down once she knew they were alone.

“Saying goodbye brings back bad memories,” he told her shuffling his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I want to believe you're coming back this time.”

“Of course I’m coming back. I’ll call you, every day. But could you do something for me?” She asked, reaching to snake her arms around his neck.

“Can you get yourself a new phone so we can video chat?”

“Yes, Evans I think I can manage that,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her goodbye for the last time.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #barman james #business boss lily #tj writes #jily fanfiction #jily fic #slightly mature #there is a shower scene #but no smut

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innaminitus · 4 years

Text

White wolf

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Request: Hello! May I request a Geralt of Rivia smut about prompt 31? Reader is from a good family that is hosting Geralt because they required his services. They have lots of children, including reader, and they are very overbearing parents. She is always obedient in front of them, but cannot stand them, and the handsome brooding Geralt arrives! Thank you!

and

Hi I love your works so so much!! Could you please do a Geralt with thigh riding or cockwarming pls thank you !!! (both from anon)

Warnings: smut, like, really bad plot

Word count: 1982

A/N: i should be studying so i’m writing. who needs to pass these exams anyway?

Gods damn this rain, these puddles and your father, who ordered you to pick up some boletes for supper, as if you didn’t have servants to do such things. You’ve only found three before it started to rain like hell, not leaving a single dry string on you and blurring your sight. Your shoes were also wet within seconds, getting sucked by slimy mud. The sky was suddenly dark and it definitely was going to get worse than just this rain. The storm was coming and you were far from home. Great.

You walked through the forest, barely seeing anything, with water flowing to your eyes and hair sticking to your forehead. You were either going to freeze to death or drown in that rain. Or get lost completely and get eaten by wolves. That was the least optimistic option and you very much hoped you would not meet any wolf on your way back.

You almost thought that your situation wasn’t hopeless until you slipped on the mud and fell on the ground, hitting your leg hard on the rock. You cried, turning on the ground and grasping the leg. You got nauseous when you saw blood dripping through your fingers.

“Gods help me…”

Did wolves smell blood? You hoped they did not, because in that case you were dead.

You heard some noise through the noise of the rain and with heavy breath and raging heart waited for something to show up. You tried to stand up and held the nearby tree. Your leg hurt awfully, the heat of the blood and wound was the only thing keeping you from freezing.

What you saw was a horse and a big figure riding it; the rain created a halo around white hair. He jumped off the horse and walked to you. From up close he wasn’t so scary.

“Are you alright?” He asked, narrowing his eyes to see better.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t mind me. I often hug trees in the rain with bleeding leg.”

You could swear you saw a smile on his face.

“Well then, I shall go away. I wish you pleasant day.” He turned away and wanted to walk back to his horse.

“Oh, for gods’ sake, wait!” You tried to approach him but almost fell. The mud was very efficiently making it even harder for you to walk. He turned to you with raised eyebrow. “Will you help me?”

You realized it was probably unwise to ask a stranger to help you, but your situation was not the best and you really didn’t see yourself spending the night in the forest.

“I will,” he laughed and with one move picked you up and almost threw on the horse, which made a funny sound at the sudden weight. He jumped behind you and pleasant warmth surrounded your back. “Where should we ride?”

“Mayor’s house. I’m his daughter. I’m Y/N, by the way.” He moved the rein and the horse moved. “Will you tell me your name?”

His chest against your back was very nice indeed, and you were quite satisfied to be leaning on him.

“Geralt.”

“Wait, like the Witcher?” You tried to look at him, but in this position it was hard to do.

“Exactly like the Witcher,” he said and you could hear amusement in his voice.

“Oh, wow. The white wolf himself, rescues a girl from the mud and rain.” You nodded. “I should probably shut up before you push me off this horse.”

He only laughed again. So you’ve met a wolf, after all.

The ride was shorter than you expected and when you reached your home your father run outside to meet you.

“What happened?! What did you think, going out in such weather?!” He helped you to get off the horse. You didn’t say anything about it being his stupid idea. “Thank you, good sir,” he said to Geralt when you stood on the ground. Well, almost, because the leg was hurting like hell and you could barely stand straight. “This girl… Always causes trouble! And you, sir, must stay for the night! There is no need for you to stay in the inn.”

Geralt nodded and got off the horse as well.

“Oy! Boy!” Your father shouted to one of the men taking care of the horses. “Feed the horse and take care of it!” He completely forgot about you and grabbed Geralt’s arm to drag him inside the house. You limped behind them, imagining your sight could kill and piercing you father’s dad with it. “My wife you see, makes the absolute best pork ribs…”

When Geralt was dry and in a well lit room, you could clearly see how handsome he was. He didn’t talk much, but everything he said was witty, as if there was a lot of things going around in his head, but he wasn’t eager to express any of them.

You were quick to grow fond of him, especially in his deep voice and smirk he showed from time to time. Oh, and his amber eyes. And the jawline. Well, you liked pretty much everything in him, but who could blame you? He was the most handsome men you’ve ever met and you were sure that under his clothes he was even more impressive.

Your sister was bandaging your leg when he and the rest of your family were finishing dinner.

“So he’s the famous Butcher of Blaviken?” She asked, trying very hard not to look at him.

He could butcher my pussy if he wanted to.

“He is.” You nodded. “I was lucky he found me.”

“I hope we won’t have any distress because of it.”

“This girl, she’s the eldest, you see, but she doesn’t want to get married!” You overheard your father and rolled your eyes. “One would think that’s what woman is made for, to get married and bear children, but no!”

“I know many powerful women who are more than fine without a man,” Geralt said calmly and you felt a warm feeling towards him.

“She’s obedient child, I tell you, but a difficult one,” your father kept speaking as if he didn’t hear the Witcher. “I say she needs a man with a heavy hand to keep her in her place.”

Geralt murmured something and got up, saying something about leaving in the morning. He walked past you and sent you a ghost of a smile before climbing up the stairs in the direction of the bedroom your mother prepared for him. A little further than the bedrooms of you and your family, “just in case if he brings trouble”.

You couldn’t sleep that night, the thought of the handsome man was more than enough to keep you awake. Awake and horny when you started to wonder about how his hands would feel on your body, how his fingers would pull your hair to give him access to your neck…

You weren’t sure where you found the courage to leave your room, but there you were, walking careful to not stand on your wounded leg for too long, walking down and up the stairs to reach Geralt’s bedroom in the attic. You knocked silently, but got no response, so you opened the door and slipped inside. It was complete darkness, only a small window was letting the moonlight in.

The Witcher was sleeping, with one hand behind his head, and, to your delight, with no shirt. He wasn’t covered with blanket, the night was really warm. You walked to him.

“Geralt,” you whispered.

“What?” His eyes were still closed, but he must’ve been awake from the moment you walked into his room.

“I came to say thank you.”

“This is odd hour to do so.”

“It’s not, you’ll see.”

You were either really stupid, or really confident, because you climbed on top of him. Probably the first one.

He opened his eyes in an instant, but wasn’t surprised nor angry at your actions. He just slowly moved his hands to your thighs, crumpling your nightgown in his fingers.

“How’s your leg?” He asked, slowly rolling the fabric to reach your bare skin.

“Hurts like hell,” you sighed when he got to the hem of your dress and gently caressed the skin under it.

“Then you better be careful with it.”

“I will.”

You leaned in the same moment as he rose, your lips met somewhere in the middle. You cupped his face and deepened the kiss, shivering at the sensation of his warm skin against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth just when his fingers travelled up your thigh. He groaned when he found out you had no underwear on.

He wasn’t going to play. Your nightgown was off within seconds, exposing your naked form in front of him, one of his hands touched your hardening nipple, making you sigh and kiss him even more passionately. He moved slightly, you were now sitting on his thigh, almost dripping onto it from the excitement you felt.

His hands slid to your hips, he forced you to grind onto him. A soft moan escaped your lips at the feeling, he swallowed it with his, kissing you fiercely. He was guiding you as you rode his thigh, electricity was rushing through your veins, destroying every sensible thought you’ve had. His leg was completely wet from your juices, only making you grind onto him harder. One of his hands grabbed the side of your neck and pulled you for a kiss, his tongue darted into your mouth, not letting you go even when bits of pleasure started to build into orgasm. Electricity turned into lightning bolts when ecstasy hit you hard and he silenced you with his lips, not letting you make any loud sound that would wake anyone up.

He let you go when you calmed yourself down a bit and with one move turned you, so your back met the mattress. He took of his underwear, freeing his impressive length, hard and dripping for you.

Geralt positioned himself between your legs and thrusted into you rapidly, painfully stretching your walls. He gave you a second or two to adjust and started to move, slowly at first, turning the pain into pleasure. He was pulling almost entirely only to push himself balls deep into your heat, each time making you moan a little louder.

“You have to be quiet,” he said hoarsely, fastening the pace.

You nodded, not being able to form letters into words and wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer. His chest was almost pressed against yours as he thrusted in you, faster and faster, reaching the point where you simply could not be silent anymore.

At another loud moan he covered your mouth with his hand, leaning to your ear. He didn’t say anything, just bit your earlobe slightly before moving to your neck, leaving wet marks everywhere he could reach.

You moved your hips to his pace, trying not to lose your mind just yet, to make it last longer, as long as possible, but it was too hard when his cock was reaching the best spots, and his abdomen rubbing on your oversensitive clit with each move.

Orgasm hit you once more, this time even harder than before, shattering you whole, turning you into whining mess. He was just behind you, his moves became uncontrollable, he was pounding fiercely into you, biting on your shoulder to not make any sound. Your legs were shaking and hips were moving when you milked him entirely, the warmth of his cum spilling deep inside of you made you shiver even more.

He stayed like this for a moment before he pulled out and lied next to you on a small bed.

“So,” you were breathing so heavy it came out as a sigh “thank you for your help.”

“You are very much welcome.”

___

tag lists:

💞: @taylorswiftloverforever13 @thomasfoockinshelby @kaylig02@daddyloki @it-jinxed-us @themusingsofmany @randomlea @annakohanasworld @theunofficialduke @prismroot-starlight0@deathofmissjackson@tricksterwinchester @villanellevi @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @forgoshsake-watchyourlanguage @grace-barnes-13 @starofthedawn @superconfusedandreadytorumble @glimmerlove9 @emmandhercoffecrisp @dancingunicorn113 @kaylig02 @jesseswartzwelder

🖤 - @winterpoohbear @emmandhercoffecrisp @moonlightreetops @smokahuntis

#geralt x reader #witcher x reader #geralt x reader smut #geralt x y/n #witcher x reader smut #witcher x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x y/n smut #witcher x y/n smut #geralt x you smut #witcher x you smut #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt imagine #the witcher imagine #witcher imagine

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cynergy-laughter · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! One Master to Abridge Them All! Ep. 5

5. Rewind... Rewind... Rewind...

Leviathan: W-What?! No, that doesn’t happen!

MC: Uh, yeah it does.

Diavolo: Enn doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would lie about something so detailed... I think we know who the winner is...

Leviathan: No... NNOOOOO! *changes into demon form* You shouldn’t know any of this! You are just a newbie wannabe! You got into TSL in such a short time, and now this... I will not accept this... I will not recognize you as a fan!!! *runs at Enn*

MC: Oh shi- *falls down* Mammon!

Mammon: I’m comin- GAH! *slips on some melted ice cream* Dammit! I can’t get there in time... run!

Levi: I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED BY A NORMIE!!! *reaches out hands to wring Enn’s neck*

*Freeze!*

MC: *voiceover* This is me, I know what you’re thinking, this is a huge jump from the last time we left off. Oh dang... I look so scared at that frame... who even got that angle of me? Well they deserve a raise... uhh anywho, you’re probably wondering how I got here... well good, fleeting audience, I shall tell you how.

*rewinds two days and two nights ago*

MC: *groaning, brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed* I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that garlic and ghost pepper devil potato salad... best potato salad I’ve ever had, but feels like a detox coming out... *sprays and finishes up in the bathroom*

???: H-Help... Help me...

MC: *eyes widen* Oh please tell me I’m not in a bathroom fever dream...

???: Please... help... follow my voice...

MC: ... Yeah, cause that always goes well...

*follows to the attic stairs anyway*

Lucifer: *pops up out of nowhere* Go back now. There’s nothing up there for you.

MC: For me? Now you’ve piqued my interest.

Lucifer: Well there’s nothing at the peak for you, go back to your room. Don’t ever go up to the attic.

MC: How do you spell attic, by the way?

Lucifer: ... A-T-T-I-C.

MC: Ah! You naughty boy, why were you looking down there?! *puts hands over chest* My eyes are up here.

Lucifer: *blinks and blushed mad, realizing what he just said* Room. Now.

MC: *tries not to laugh as they go to their room*

—————

MC: *sitting at breakfast, alone with Mammon, zoned out*

Mammon: Hey! Are you even listening to me?!

MC: Hmm? Oh, sorry, as soon you started talking crap about me I kinda just turned your ranting into background noise.

Mammon: ...Well... don’t do that, you don’t just skip over The Great Talkative Mammon’s dialogue, that’s rude.

MC: Did you... really just add another adjective to your Name Title?

Mammon: Yeah, what you gonna argue with The Great Infallible Mammon?

MC: I literally made you enter a pact with me two nights ago.

Mammon: Shut up! Gah! Why did I have to be the one who be paired with you. It’s all Levi’s fault that I’m with you in the first place... no, it’s all Lucifer’s fault... none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for him...

MC: *sighs, and goes on another daydream, he wanted to know how to get past Lucifer*

*Earlier last night*

MC: *Casually walks toward the stairs* Hey Lucifer, can I see what’s upstairs, please?

Lucifer: No.

MC: tch, almost had him... *walks back to room*

*present*

Mammon: ...Lucifer’s color scheme reminds me of those OP DeviousArtsy original characters, like Red and Black? Seriously? Get a better outfit, especially if you’re gonna wear brown shoes, why can’t you wear black, you’re already wearing so much of it! Oh and to top it off, his feet reek... not that I’ve... ever smelled them... but I’m saying it, so it’s true-

MC: Mammon, what’s in the attic?

Mammon: Don’t change the subject, right now we’re discussing Lucifer’s feet, which, by the way, freaking stin- wait what?

MC: ... Mammon. Attic. What’s up there?

Mammon: ... Geez, you really don’t know how to mind your business do you?

MC: I do, but I feel like I’m already more involved than anyone could ever realize...

—————

Mammon: *walking with Enn to Levi’s room* If you wanna get past Lucifer and find out what’s in the attic... You’ll need something that Lucifer wants, and I think I know just who to go to for that something...

MC: *looks at Levi’s room door* ... So why the hell are we outside the Ultimate Otaku’s door? What does he have that Lucifer wants?

Mammon: *whispering* There’s a record of the limited cursed edition of the TSL soundtrack in there, he absolutely loves it, so we just gotta ask Levi for it, it’ll be easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

MC: One, don’t ever say that again. Two, I don’t know how easy it’s gonna be since Levi wants nothing to do with me, and three... oh what the hell. *knocks on the door*

Levi: What’s the secret phrase?

MC: *looks at Mammon* Yeah, Mammon, this sure is gonna be lemon squeezy.

Mammon: Okay, Levi, let us in, it’s The Great Older Brother Mammon, and his pact slave.

MC: *leers at Mammon* You’re about to be the Great Fat-Lipped Mammon in a minute.

Mammon: *shied away a couple of steps* At least capitalize the T in the word The...

Levi: I am known by someone outside the door as the Ultimate Otaku, and to gain entry, you must say the secret phrase.

Mammon: *leers at Enn* So great, he was listening the whole time, and you’re calling me names?

MC: Ugh... umm... Rurichan is bae? Mammon’s an idiot? Enn’s a Normie?

Levi: ... while it is all true, bzzt! Wrong! Access denied.

Solomon: *appears behind them* Well, if it isn’t the celebrity and his newfound pet demon~.

MC: *jumps up, and holds Mammon close to them* Get the hell outta here, Goblin King, we ain’t wishing for nothing.

Solomon: *smirks* Sorry for scaring you, Enn. *knocks on the door* The fifth lord...

Levi: ...couldn’t keep his huge rod in his pants and took the Lord of Corruption’s wife to bed...

Solomon: And for the betrayal done unto his home...

Levi: The Lord of Corruption named him the Lord of Lechery, and cursed him with eternal unattainable climax. Secret phrase approved, welcome to my kingdom.

Solomon: *smirks* Peace out suckas. *hits the whip, and nae-naes backward into Levi’s room*

MC: *still holding Mammon protectively* So the Goblin King had an invitation?

Mammon: *blushing* ... You do know that was the secret phrase right?

MC: ... *knocks on the door* The Fifth Lord-

Levi: Bzzzt! The password has been reset! Bitch you thought! Next time know more about TSL before you try me, normie!

MC: *growls and bangs on the door* GAH! Go to Heaven you K-Pop Justin Bieber!

Mammon: Enn! ENN! Don’t, you don’t wanna get in trouble with Lucifer, not this early in the year... *pulls Enn away*

Levi: *with in the room* You see what I have to deal with? The violent life of the yucky otaku.

Solomon: Hmm...

*interviews*

Solomon: *bursts out laughing* PFFFTHAHAHAHA! K-Pop Justin B-Beihihiberrrr! Oh my god, I have to text that to Asmo... *starts texting* Man, as belligerent as Enn is, they sure know how to roast someone...

MC: Don’t worry, this makes day 4 that he hasn’t noticed. But... I have to find a way to get him to give me the record... God, I don’t know what it is with Levi, he just knows how to push my buttons... have I let him get to me?

—————

Mammon: So... why am I gonna be watching this with that human... and Beel... why are you here?

Beel: A Movie marathon means popcorn, and I had a craving.

Mammon: ... Of course you did.

MC: *comes in with a huge tub of popcorn* Alright, a huge tub of popcorn, extra butter and salt for Beel, a pack of chocolate coins for Mammon, and a sensible bowl of popcorn and soda for myself. Oh, I also made all of us slushees.

Mammon: *blinks* slushees? What are those?

MC: It’s cherry and blue raspberry.

Beel: *eyes widen* Why is it that you continue to amaze me with your snacks?

Mammon: Did you really just ask that question? Did YOU... just ask that question? The bigger question is how did you make these?

MC: Not important. Alright boys, 12 hours ain’t gonna watch itself, let’s get ready... The Tale of The Seven Lords... *presses Play*

————— The next day...

Levi: Human.

MC: *looks at Levi* Wow, look at who decided to grace us with his presence after spending his whole day in his room.

Levi: Don’t talk down to me just cause you have all the time in the world to do what you want, like having a TSL marathon. Totally not fair by the way.

Mammon: Wow, talk about nosy, were you spying on us?

Levi: No, Golden Moron, I heard it from Lucifer.

MC: First of all, don’t steal my joke, I worked hard for that, and second of all, for someone who minds his business, you sure do like knowing everyone else’s.

Levi: I don’t want to hear you talking especially since you are the ruler of not minding your business! Just cause you’re trying to suck up to me, doesn’t mean we’re gonna be all buddy-buddy. So get it through your thick head.

MC: Leviathan, I challenge you to a TSL Fan-Off.

Levi: *blinks* Excuse me? Are you serious? You really think that you, a human normie is gonna out-fan me?! LMMFAO! That’s not even a contest.

MC: Wow, I never knew you were a chicken, Levi.

Levi: ... what?

MC: I’m just saying if you had your own fursona, it would be a chicken. Ba-GAWK!

Levi: ... You take that back. I would N E V E R !

MC: Because you already are Levi, just cause you didn’t accept. An Otaku Chicken, I can see the Fanart now!

Levi: You know what, I was gonna spare you the embarrassment, but now I’m gonna make it my goal to destroy you in that Fan-off, human. When I’m finished with you, your time in the Devildom will be cut short. But, if by some odd miracle you best me, I’ll join Mammon as one of your pacts. Not like it’s ever gonna happen, I mean, I’ve only been following TSL all of a millennia. And that, compared to your 12 hour marathon, should speak to how much more knowledge I have of TSL than you. So let’s see who Fans off more. Student Council hall, today after school, and don’t chicken out.

MC: Heh, just I eat chicken doesn’t mean I am one. I’ll see you then.

*there was an intense stare down, until there was a loud cackling from upstairs*

Asmo: BWAHAHAHA! K-Pop Justin Beiber, I’m done! Solomon, I am done with you! AAAHH! YAAASS!

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daughterofanarcissistwoman · 3 years

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She rewrites history.

Because she is perfect, she cannot do any wrong, by definition. Therefore if you bring any wrongdoing of hers to her attention, she will have a range of defenses to make it not so. For example, she is quite happy to rewrite history. This is known as gaslighting. It’s named after a 1940s film called, appropriately, Gaslight, where the baddie husband turned down the gas supply in the attic, so that the gas lights in the house flickered due to insufficient fuel. When the wife commented on the flickering, he laughed at her and told her she was imagining it, that the lights were perfect – and that was his first step to convincing her she was losing her mind. The first line of gaslighting defense is to simply deny the incident even happened. You might say, ‘Mum, it upset me when you said in front of everyone that I’d put on weight.’ She will look you full in the eye and announce with absolute certainty, ‘I never said that.’ And if she says it with enough conviction and certainty – and she will – then you’ll very possibly end up believing her statement over your own perceptions and memories. So, not only does she abuse you (telling you that you’re fat in front of your friends, in this example), but then she denies it even happened! It’s a double-whammy. So you’re left reeling, feeling hurt about the first layer of abuse, and confused about the second. This leads you to doubt your own perception, to question your own sense of reality, and is, in my opinion, one of the two worst aspects of the abuse we daughters of narcissistic mothers receive. (Teaching us that we’re born broken, as explained later, is the other.) Consider too that, as her daughter, you’ve been subject to this treatment from the day of your birth, so you have had days and months and years of this psychological abuse, and therefore so much practice in doubting your own perceptions. Add to that the fact that children are biologically programmed to believe their parents, and it makes it even more cruel because we are so incredibly susceptible to the lies. She might pooh-pooh your memory and say patronizingly, ‘Oh no, dear, I didn’t say that. Your hearing/memory is going, you’d want to check that out. What I said was that it was good that you hadn’t put on weight.’ My own mother said to me once, over a memory we were disputing (picture this in the most patronizing tones you can possibly imagine): ‘Now, Danu. You’re a fiction writer. And you’re a very good writer. But it does mean that you have a very vivid imagination.’ How do you win against that? How can you prove that just because you write fiction you’re not psychotic? You can’t. The narcissistic mothers don’t care what evidence you have. I once said that my husband had also heard her say such-a-thing, and she said, slowly and carefully, as to a child, ‘Now, Danu. He is your husband. And he loves you very, very much. So of course he’s going to support what you say.’ Even better, Laura relates the time she showed her mother her mother’s own signature, and the mother still denied she’d signed the document. Laura said, ‘But that is your signature, right?’ And her mother said, ‘Oh yes. But I didn’t sign it.’ This kind of willful stupid denial is so bizarre and slippery that it’s impossible to deal with. Especially since, if you persist in stating your truth (i.e. the real truth), she’s likely to move to other defensive tactics such as Narcissistic Rage. And you, programmed from birth to fear her rage, will back down immediately. So when she doesn’t confuse you into compliance, she bullies you into it.

You’re Not Crazy -- It’s Your Mother: Understanding and Healing for Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers by Danu Morrigan

#narcissistic abuse #narcissist mother #emotional abuse #psychological abuse #gaslighting #toxic mother #dysfunctional mother #unhealthy mother #mother wound #crazy making #bullying #cptsd #childhood programming #mind control #manipulation #boundaries #no contact

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

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Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Forty

Hermione’s eyes widened at the feeling of the hand clamped over her face.

At first, she’s absolutely terrified that they’ve come for her and someone’s muffling the screams she no longer knows if she’s capable of.

For a second she thinks it could be Ron as he’s nearby and he’s silencing her to keep from giving them away to some evil outside the Burrow.

However as her eyes adjust to the darkness, under the moon shining through Ron’s attic window, she makes out a pair of two familiar eyes.

Ones she only saw in Malfoy Manor.

Soft, misty eyes. A pair she doubted she’d ever see again.

Slowly, she pulls her hand off Hermione’s mouth and presses a finger to her lips, indicating her to keep quiet.

With a swish of an unfamiliar wand Hermione recognizes the movements of a silencing charm.

Unknown to everyone but one Molly Weasley, is that a simple muffalito has no effect within the walls of Ron’s room. The matron was worried her son may succumb to the brunette's request of casting a silencing charm for the sake of everyone else after her screaming tonight. Even though it bothered no one in the house, Molly knew the girl well enough to know she thought of herself a burden. Not to mention, Mrs. Weasley is pretty sure Ron would do whatever she asked of him.

“Hello dear.” She whispered as a precaution.

“Ci-Cissy?” Hermione choked out, tears pooling in her eyes.

And before she could register the pain of such an action, she’s flinging her arms around the older woman’s slender frame and squeezes her tightly.

In turn, Narcissa finds herself crying quietly into the witch’s shoulder.

Once gathering her bearings a bit she breaks the silence. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Narcissa says with a chuckle.

Under her, she feels Hermione shake in what she thinks would be a laugh, had she not been in such a state.

“Well I have something that belongs to you as well, you see-”

“Let go of her now!”

Instantly, the pair's eyes snapped to the occupant of the voice.

Ron Weasley was towering over them, standing tall at a scary six foot four. His wand is drawn as deep raspy breaths escape him. Chest rising and falling at an intense rate. Hermione thinks she can see his knuckles whitening from the tight hold.

At his words, Narcissa pulled away from Hermione and held her hands in surrender as the young girl shook her head vigorously.

“Move away. Move.” He spat.

“Look, I’m not here to-“

“I don’t care! Move!” He screamed.

“R-Ron.” She cried.

When his blue eyes found her, he swore she was looking at him almost longingly. He couldn’t help but scrunch his brow in confusion.

“Please.” She mouthed.

“I won’t let her touch you love. I won’t.” He promised with such ferocity no one would dare challenge it.

“N-no!” She tried to exclaim.

This made his hold on his wand falter a bit as he grew puzzled.

It was Narcissa’s name she was groaning in her sleep. It was this woman, a Malfoy, who was causing her anguish. Probably the same haunting face that woke her in a fit of screams.

“I don’t understand.” He said to Hermione, feeling stupid for it after the fact, knowing there was a threat standing in between him and her. And now said threat would see him as some bumbling idiot.

Merlin he can’t fail again, he can’t.

“I’m not here to hurt any of you. Least of all Hermione, never Hermione.” Narcissa spoke up, standing from the bed, hands still raised.

“Shut up! Don’t say that, you hurt her! You’re a monster!” He doesn’t realize, but hot, wet tears are leaking out of his blue eyes.

“Hurt her? You think I’d hurt her? I’m the one who got her out of there, how do you think my wand-”

He let out a bitter laugh, “If you’re so helpful then why did it take four bloody months, eh?” He taunted.

Narcissa was growing angry, more at herself then this boy, because in a lot of ways, he was right. It had taken her too long to get Hermione out. So much had happened to her in those four months and her pain could be cut in half had she acted faster.

She stepped closer to speak, but in response, Ron lifted his wand to her nose.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Hermione, disarm him so we can have a civil conversation.” Cissy says calmly, though her voice shakes.

“No w-wand.” She squeaks.

“No wand?” Narcissa says, eyeing Ron, who now looks nervous. “Is it because-”

A sudden knock on the door brings everyone in the attic to a standstill.

“Ronnie?” Molly Weasley’s voice broke from behind the wood door.

Narcissa hurriedly tip-toed to the left of the door, looking to Ron’s conflicted eyes and bringing a finger to her lips. Next, his gaze found Hermione who seemed to be mouthing ‘please’ over and over, her eyes glossy under the moonlight.

“Ronald open up or I’m coming in.” She said from the other side.

Sparing one last glance at Hermione, he tucked his wand into his waistband and with a deep breath flung open the door and stepped into the hallway. Carefully he shut it behind him.

“Is everything okay dear? I thought I heard voices.”

He gulped, “Y-yeah.” He swallowed hoping to wet his dry throat, “Hermione she-uh, she had another nightmare.”

“Oh no.” Molly began to push past him until he jumped in front of the door knob.

“No!” He said a bit too harshly, “I just mean, I think she’s overwhelmed, you know? I think I can handle this Mum.” He said gently.

And surprisingly, his mother doesn’t disagree like he expected her to. Instead, a proud smile struck her lips as her eyes softened considerably.

“I’m so proud of you Ronnie.” She whispers, hands reaching out to cradle his face. “You’ve taken tremendous care of Hermione, you’re just so grown up I suppose. The way you are with her- I’m just beyond proud of you dear.” Molly says misty eyed.

“Thanks Mum.” He says with red cheeks.

Behind the door, Narcissa Malfoy is smiling.

Mrs. Weasley squeezes him tightly before pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I’m downstairs if you need anything, okay? I love you Ronnie, Hermione too.” With that, she kisses his cheek and walks down the steps.

He waits until he hears the faint sound of his parents door clicking close before pulling out his wand again and entering his bedroom.

There he finds Narcissa standing in the middle of his orange room, her eyes looking like they're full of love with tears threatening to spill over. She looks like anything but a Malfoy, such a stark contrast from Bellatrix. Looking at her here he’s more reminded of Andromeda, a soft spoken soul full of love. All things he would never associate with the mother of the greatest git at Hogwarts and wife to a Death Eater.

“Now I understand what Hermione was trying to tell me.” She whispered with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Momentarily his grip falters as he begins lowering his wand, but then he remembers. This is probably a part of her plan. Gain his trust then kick his legs out from under him while he’s weak and more importantly, go at Hermione while she’s weak.

Still, he does want to know what she means…

“Nevermind that! Tell me how you got here.” He demands.

...

“The Burrow?” Andromeda questioned, “that’s… no! I can’t Molly and Arthur- no Cissy, I’m sorry.” She began pacing as she shook her head frantically.

“Please Andi, I need to see Hermione.” She begged.

“Hermione? Hermione Granger?” She questioned, even more confused than she was before.

“That’s right.” Narcissa nods confidently.

“But why?”

The younger of the two sighs. She nervously begins to wring her hands together as she paces the expanse of the room.

Then something dawned on Andromeda, “Hold on, does Hermione Granger have your wand?”

The look on Cissy’s face says it all.

“Narcissa what in the bloody hell is Hermione Granger doing with your wand? The girl is off at Hogwarts and the wards there- they’re impossible to get through!” She rants.

“Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t been in touch with Nymphadora?”

“Dora? What’s she got to do with all of this?” Andromeda questioned, but the look on her sister's face told her that the answer was crucial to the story, so she carried on. “Her and Remus were supposed to spend New Year’s with Ted and I but she got sent off on an assignment. She said it was for the Auror’s and not The O-” She caught herself.

Narcissa huffed with a roll of her eyes, “I know about The Order Andi, I’m not daft! Just carry on.”

The brunette rolled her eyes in return. It was almost nice to bicker. It felt normal. It felt like it did so long ago.

“Right so she said she had a case down in Cornwall. Some investigation, we owled of course, but she didn’t come back until February. Ted and I traveled to Amsterdam for our anniversary which is in late February, we were there for a few weeks. Dora is meant to come to dinner here within the week.”

“Alright.” Cissy nodded, “Alright that makes sense.”

“Sense with what Cissy?” Andromeda asked impatiently.

“Christmas night Hermione Granger was kidnapped from the Weasley’s home.”

The other woman grew pale, horror striking her features.

“It was Bella. Bella took her back to my estate in Wiltshire.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, tone filled with nothing but shame.

“Kidnapped? She’s just a child, Narcissa! Merlin- how long?” Andi asked, pinching the end of her nose.

“Three, four months.” Andromeda had to strain her ears to even hear the response.

“Months? This went on for months and you knew!”

“I know okay? I tried- I swear, I tried to get her out.” Cissy promised with tears brimming her eyes.

The brunette took a deep breath, calming considerably. “At least tell me she’s not there anymore. Tell me the girl is okay.”

Narcissa wiped almost violently at her eyes and took a big sniff, “That’s why I’m here, I had nowhere else to go. They’re bound to figure it out eventually. Lucius is too caught up in himself to realize I was lying but Bella- if she doesn’t know yet, she will soon.”

“Know what?” Her brown eyes were swimming for answers.

“That I was the one who helped Hermione escape. That’s why she has my wand.”

Andromeda gasped. When Narcissa turned up at her door she was so overcome with a sense of familiarity and love she didn’t even spare a second to think what kind of trouble she may be in. Or the possibility that she was done with that life. With her awful husband and his awful beliefs.

Could it be?

“But why?” It’s all Andromeda could come up with.

As she peered at her sister's weathered features, she saw tears running out of her blue eyes.

“Because it was so wrong Andi.” Narcissa practically blubbered, succumbing to sobs.

And like they were little girls again, Andromeda knew all Cissy needed right now was a hug from her big sister.

She engulfed her slender frame and slowly began stroking her brunette-blonde hair. Telling her everything was alright and ensuring she did the right thing.

After a few moments, Narcissa gathered her bearings.

“You were right.” She choked, “I’ve known for years but part of me always held out some hope, Bella… she's gone.” Her voice cracked over the nickname.

Andromeda just frowned, she accepted the fact during the first war, but she knew that part of Narcissa always thought that maybe somehow, someway, they could all become the family they once were. That they could all be sisters again.

“She ordered them to do terrible- unspeakable things to a young girl.” Suddenly her features stiffened into that of anger, “And when she wasn’t laughing at those inhumane acts, she was firing curse after curse at Hermione. The cruciatus, she- she doesn’t even speak anymore.”

Tears began leaking again out of both womens eyes.

“I took care of her every night. I snuck her potions. I read to her. I fed her. I held her. I made sure her brain wouldn’t turn to mush. I even told Bella to stop.” She inhaled, “But none of it mattered. I took too long. They killed her parents! I should’ve got her out sooner, I’m just as bad as the rest of them, I’m-” Her words caught in her throat as she grew hysterical.

Andromeda gripped her shoulders, “Stop.” She said a little forcefully, but Narcissa just continued to cry. “Cissy look at me.” She demanded.

Thankfully, her sister stopped shaking momentarily to fulfill the request.

“You never have and will never be a monster, okay? You did what was right in the end and that’s all that matters. Hermione isn’t there anymore.”

Narcissa closed her eyes and began trembling under Andromeda’s hold.

“Hey.” She called, causing her to open her eyes again, “you’re my sister. You always have been and you always will be. If I thought you were anything like Bella I wouldn’t have let you in. I know your heart is good.”

Slowly, Cissy nodded, calming a bit at the sentiment.

“I love you.” Andi said.

“I love you too.” Narcissa responded, “You’re my family and it's just-” she swallowed, “I’m so happy to be here with you but Hermione she- she’ll never have that again.” Cissy hoped the statement conveyed what she met as if she said more, she would’ve probably broken down again.

“That’s why it’s so important I get you into The Burrow, huh?” Andromeda smiled.

Cissy smiled back.

Even after all this time, they still knew each other so well.

...

“Tell me.” Ron Weasley demanded of her.

Cissy shook her head. She was briefly lost in a daze remembering all the details of the past few days.

“My sister, Andromeda, has access to the wards. She comes to have tea with your Mother a few times a week.” She like it was simple.

Ron scrunched his brow, not connecting the dots.

“We apparated outside of the wards so no one would hear. Andi and I performed some old blood spell we found in one of our mothers old books. Did it when we were younger, it connects you for a finite amount of time only works if you’re blood related. She stepped through the wards and I held onto her, we had no issues. I reckon she’s still crouching behind that old tree in your orchard.” She explained.

“So your sister, she doesn’t well-uh-”

“Hate me?” Narcissa asked knowingly, “No.” She answered. “It’s always been different for us than it was with Bella.”

The mention of the name involuntarily made Hermione shutter as a whimper escaped her.

At the sound Ron turned to envelope her in a hug, just to find Narcissa already doing it. He was about to pull out his wand to do something, but to his surprise, Hermione was welcoming to the embrace, burrowing into her robes.

He notices Narcissa holding her closer and he opens his mouth to tell the woman to take it easy, but Hermione winces instead, making her jump away.

The young witch moves her hand to her ribs hoping to ease some pain.

“What did you do? Ron accuses, sitting down next to Hermione, gently rubbing her back. At the action the brunette tries to offer a small smile, but the keyword here is tries.

He wonders if he’ll ever see a proper smile from her again.

“I have a book for Hermione in my robes. The corner must’ve dug into her ribs. If they’re still sore you should consider casting a-”

“No!” Ron yelps, making her jump, “sorry love” He whispers after the fact.

“So I was right then?”

The ginger eyes the woman, unsure what she means.

“She can’t use magic.”

Before he can even react Hermione musters all of her strength to shrug his arm off of her.

“L-liar.” She said saldy.

Technically he didn’t lie because it never exactly came up, but he knew that wasn’t an adequate response or excuse. Ron from five months ago might’ve said that, but he’s done a lot of growing up in that time.

And the look of pain on her face breaks his heart, especially knowing he caused it. Especially after he swore to himself and to her all those nights in St. Mungo’s that he’d never hurt her again.

“I don't know how to tell you Mione. Please believe me, please. I just- I didn’t want to hurt you anymore then I have already, okay? It fucking kills me seeing you like this darling. Please, I’m so sorry. Don’t let me lose you again.” He pleaded, forgetting Narcissa was even in the room.

A tear fell down her cheek, he swiped it gently with his thumb and relaxed the slightest when she allowed him to do so.

“It’s not forever, I promise. You’re still a brilliant witch, it doesn’t make you any less magical, okay?”

He watched as her eyes slowly roved to her bandaged arm, thinking about the vile term underneath.

Mudblood.

Anger momentarily bubbled within him thinking of the scar, but he pushed it down. He tilted her chin to look into his eyes, “Don’t think about that, please. You’re the Brightest Witch of Our Age. Nothing will ever change that, believe me alright? It’s just for a little while, I’m so sorry I lied Mione. I just- I hate to see you upset. I was being selfish and-”

Hermione cut him off by placing a gentle hand over his mouth.

It was so much to take in, but Ron has been so lovely. Her moment of hurt was overshined by all the tender moments they’ve shared lately. And right now her brain is working in overdrive.

Hatred for Bellatrix and all she’s taken from her. The thought of never performing a spell again. Would they kick her out of Hogwarts?

Then she remembers Narcissa is here, Ron too, and right now she needs to focus on this before she explodes. Maybe Cissy has answers. She prays she does.

When she moves her hand a ghost of a smile plays on Ron’s lips, thankful for the sign of forgiveness.

“L-later.” she mumbled.

He nodded in understanding, hand reaching for hers.

Cissy watches the scene feeling her heartbreak for Hermione but also swell at the evident love between them. Then she remembers what event sparked the conversation in the first place.

“I have something for you. Something you left behind.”

Ron opens his mouth to protest, she needs no reminders of Malfoy Manor. Ever.

“Trust me.” Cissy whispers.

From her black robes she pulls out a large book.

The words Hogwarts, A History are printed on the binding.

It looks a lot like the copy Bill and Charlie gave him. There’s even a tea stain on the- shite.

With watery eyes, Narcissa places it in front of the pair. “I don’t believe you ever got to properly read this, huh dear?” She asked with a watery smile.

Ron glances to gauge Hermione’s reaction. Her bottom lip is quivering and he sees a lone tear escape her brown sparkling eyes.

But for the first time in a long time, he knows those tears weren’t ones of pain.

As her shaking hand skims the leatherbound book she suddenly feels different.

She’s not thinking of Bellatrix or Greyback or her parents. She’s thinking about how she’s here with Ron and Cissy and she feels an overwhelming sense of love coming from them. From this book, what it means, who gave it to her and who brought it back to her.

When she opens to the text, she spots the familiar scrawl in the front, running her fingers over the worn out ink and splotches from her salty tears.

Hermione,

I’m so sorry for everything that's happened. I’ve hurt you and for that I’ll never truly forgive myself. You know I’ve never been good with words, but I once told you I wouldn’t read this book for anything, but I did. For you. I hope you enjoy my rendition of Hogwarts, A History and I hope this can help show you how much you mean to me, how much I miss you, if only a little. I hope one day you can forgive me. Until then I’ll be waiting. Always.

Happy Christmas

Yours, Ron.

She spent the worst nights of her life bent over this book. It gave her hope to someday get back to Ron. To make things right.

But reading it this time was different.

Instead of longing to see Ron again she turns and he’s there.

His arms tighten around her and she swears she hears him sniffle and feels him press a light kiss to her hair.

And she knows that this is what healing feels like.

“Thank you.” Her voice is cracked, but it's the strongest she’s sounded in months.

Ron’s heart swells in his chest. He peers over at Narcissa Malfoy, who like him, is crying, and the two exchange soft smiles.

In that moment Ron decides: maybe Narcissa Malfoy isn’t so bad after all.

...

Hermione falls asleep on Ron’s chest, the book slanted in her lap. She’s calmer than she’s been in a while. No furrowed brows or pained groans. He keeps a gentle hand running through her hair, telling himself it’s keeping her sound asleep and it’s not just because her hair is so damn soft.

“I wish I could have gotten her to sleep like that in the Manor. I wish I would’ve done more.” Narcissa’s voice breaks from where she sits on Harry’s camp bed.

Ron just stares at her for a few moments before coming to a decision. One he’s reluctant about, but knows it's best for Hermione.

“You can stay here.”

The woman looks in shock.

“Hermione would be upset if you left without a proper goodbye and I reckon there’s a lot you need to tell me, but not now. The sun will be up within the hour and I’m knackered.” He tells her, eyes averted to his Chudley Cannons poster.

“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be pleased with someone so closely involved with the Dark Lord under their roof.” She says quietly.

“You’re done with that though?” He snaps, hand moving for his wand.

“I am.” She assures with a nod, “I have been for a while.”

Ron relaxes and lets out a breath. “Alright then. I’ll explain it to Mum and Dad eventually, but now isn’t right.”

Cissy nods again, “I’ll send a patronus to Andromeda, she’s still waiting in the orchard.” She explains taking out her wand, her true wand.

A wispy swan glides elegantly from the tip of her wand and disappears as blueish white hues disappear out his window.

“I’m going to bed.” Is all he says before blowing the candle on his bedside out and throwing the covers over both him and Hermione.

He stays awake for a while though, worried Narcissa may try something. But eventually her breathing evens out and he’s too exhausted to stand guard any longer, so he succumbs to sleep knowing he’ll need his rest for all the answers to come tomorrow.

Ones that are sure to break his heart.

...

Green flames explode in the fireplace as a figure stumbles out.

They brush the ash off and step into the Burrow’s living room.

“Oh you’re early!” Molly exclaims as she comes near the fireplace, still in her slippers. “Hermione had a nasty nightmare so she’s up in the attic with Ron. It was a long night, so I reckon they’re still asleep. Go wake Ronnie at least, let Hermione rest.” She told them.

With a nod, the figure took the familiar trek to Ron’s bedroom, not even bothering to knock before entering.

Meant by the sight of Ron and Hermione curled around each other and an overwhelming sense of heartbreak and warmth flooded them. Heartbreak of knowing why they ended up that way, because of the nightmares, but warmth at seeing the look of content across their serene faces as they laid in one another's arms.

But then he saw something.

A third figure laid atop of the sheets of the camp bed tucked against the wall.

Pulling out their wand they steadily positioned it, ready to curse whoever the mysterious occupant may be.

But before they make it across the room, the figure bolts upright, seeming to have heard the heavy footsteps.

And for the first time, Narcissa Malfoy is face to face with the infamous Harry Potter.

#Ron and Hermione #Ron Weasley #rons-hermiones come find me #ron x hermione #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

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