#Did NOT make me sympathise with the little trickster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anonwriter27 · 4 years

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Trust in Me Ch3

There isn’t must consistency in when I’m posting, I just seem to be allowing creative influence to take hold when it can! Safe to say this story will be a slow burn, hope you enjoy this update :)

Y/N woke up with a feeling of unease. After Tony had blasted Loki across the room everyone had decided it was time to retire for the evening. Clint, Nat and Bruce left the tower to go to their respective homes, the other residents of the tower went to bed in their shared apartments. Tony had decided he and Pepper would stay in the penthouse suite instead of their little house on the outskirts; clearly not trusting that Thor had a handle on Loki’s antics.

Despite the chaos of the night before, Y/N awoke to a very peaceful and quiet morning. She awoke feeling comfortable, perhaps that’s why she felt uneasy.

‘A quick shower should help.’ She thought. When in doubt, feeling clean always provided the simplest of comforts to her.

Y/N recalled the events of the night before, not so much the angry faces or the Loki shaped hole in the wall, but the way in which the trickster looked at her.

Don’t be fooled, the following thoughts are not that of a fantasist, fooling herself into believing there was a romantic undertone to Loki’s gaze. Y/N was far too practical, inexperienced with people, and uncertain of the concept of romance to conjure up such imaginings.

It was merely the fact that he looked at her that made Y/N think back to that specific moment.

Because of her past, because of who her father was, no one really made eye contact with Y/N. The Shield agents that came and went were not happy with her presence in the tower; Shield had a troubled history with the Tatum family. Whenever she entered the room they would turn away with disgust. If they had taken a moment to get to know her, to understand that she was nothing like her dearly departed uncles and cousins, they’d see how good she was.

But they would never give her the chance. Overtime, Y/N began to feel ugly, as though she were Medusa, scaring innocent onlookers.

Loki had looked straight at her. There was no fear or anger there, just curiosity.

‘He probably doesn’t know yet,’ she thought, ‘Thor will tell him, and he’ll look at me like everyone else does.’

Y/N shook away her thoughts, got dressed and braved entering the shared living space of her apartment.

Y/N’s apartment consisted of three other tenants. Vision resides on the other side of the apartment and Peter had a little (by Tony’ standards) room across the hall from Vision’s for when he stayed over after school. Now in the adjacent room from Y/N’s was Loki. Y/N wondered how different it would be from his rooms on Asgard.

Y/N was greeted by the sweet smell of cinnamon toast as she entered the room. Vision was cooking a feast in the adjoining kitchen.

“Good morning little Miss, I trust you slept well.” Vision spoke in a kind voice.

Y/N liked it when Vision called her little Miss, it was what Jarvis used to call her when she was a little girl. Maybe that was why she felt at ease with him.

Y/N took a seat at the counter; out of the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed Loki sat by the window with an old copy of Dante’s Inferno.

He looked up when he noticed her staring, Y/N quickly averted her gaze, staring at the cinnamon toast Vision had placed in front of her.

Loki used Y/N’s moment of embarrassment to get another good look at her.

She was a beautiful young woman, but she didn’t hold herself with the confidence of one. She hid behind an oversized hoodie with sleeves she could pick at when nervous.

She had a look that he recognised but couldn’t quite put his finger on. The blonde in her hair caught the light and almost made her illuminous. She was small in height but seemingly curvy by the hints of her figure he could make out. As for her eyes, they looked like a storm; like thick grey clouds gathering together before the fall of rain.

When he looked into her eyes the night before he couldn’t understand the expression on her face. She didn’t look scared, her expression appeared more like astonishment. Not from who he was or that he was there, but that he had noticed her.

‘What an odd creature.’ He thought.

“I have made cinnamon rolls if you would like some breakfast Loki.” Vision said.

After three hours of sharing a space, Loki found Vision to be a reasonable enough character to tolerate being in a room with. It dumbfounded Loki that a being in possession of so much power could be so docile. Then again, this thrown together band of heroes confused Loki at every turn.

Loki nodded his head in way of thanks, placed his book on the coffee table and pulled up a chair at the island, just two seats away from Y/N.

As Vision was about to pull up a chair for himself, a sharp ‘ding’ in the other room grabbed his attention and he promptly excused himself.

Loki noticed how the young woman’s shoulders tensed at the absence of her social crutch. He could sympathise with that; he often inwardly winced when Thor made himself scarce after forcing the trickster to socialise with his friends.

He turned to look at her again, fascinated by her awkward social skills. He could sense she was summoning the courage to speak from the knitting of her brow and the twiddling of her thumbs.

‘Ignore it.’ He told himself. ‘Do not attempt to ease her discomfort.’

Why should he care if she was uncomfortable? She was no different from any other mortal in this damned place, if he gave an inch, she would probably take a mile. Besides, she should feel uncomfortable, right? She is in the presence of a God, one who could squash her like a bug if he so wished.

And yet, telling himself all this, and returning to the baked goods in front of him, did not ease his mind.

She quietly cleared her throat as if about to speak but fear seemed to grasp the words before they could tumble from her lips. The look of disappointment on her face when she failed to speak sparked something in Loki.

‘She’s trying.’ He thought.

Loki decided to meet her halfway. He reached for the teapot Vision had kindly filled for them and poured himself a cup.

Loki turned to Y/N, “Tea?”

The sound of another voice startled Y/N at first, but the relief she felt for the ice having been broken outweighed her surprise.

She nodded quickly, a small smile on her face as he poured her a cup.

They both lifted their cups to their lips at the same time. Before taking a sip, Loki heard a small but sure “Thank you.”

Gods, when was the last time Loki had been thanked for anything?

They continued in silence, but it was not stifling. When Vision re-entered the room he was surprised to find Y/N still there and in a state of contentment.

It was only his first official day at the Avengers tower, but Loki could say with certainty that there were now two people he could tolerate being in the same room with.

#loki x reader #loki fandom #loki odinson #vision #peter parker #tony stark #clint barton #pepper potts #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #wanda #thor

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mutantenfisch · 5 years

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Repost from deviantArt! This is actually an ass-old thing I made during Summer Break in 2016!

EDIT: Turned one huge file into 5 smaller ones and painted a quick sloppy and anachronistic sports-bra for Rel.^^

Anyway, I think it's pretty obvious for which panels I've actually used references and which were drawn less carefully. My vicious scanner adds to the trouble and not let us get started on my laziness....

I didn't have the room to put all my thoughts into the panels (and I'm quite sure there is already too much text), so be prepared for the off-commentary of each panel.

1. : This is basically my first attempt at drawing meric faces. I just didn't get her mouth right, though, so her expression is something like a failed attempt of a badass expression.

2. : Yes, that guy is supposed to be Hadvar. I don't know why he's blushing, maybe he just feels ashamed for his always-pissed commander. Or because Rel's wearing an amulet of Mara...

For Relmaris I had in mind, that she is probably the daughter of a travelling merchant/apothecary couple who left Morrowind during Red Mountain's latest eruption and didn't want to go to Solstheim, since they had "enough snow and ashes for more than one life". She grew up mostly in Cyrodiil and got into some trouble with the Thalmor there, because of how her parents raised her, religiously.

3. : This is, to be honest, the most fun part in-game - sneaking into camps, caverns and so on, taking out thugs while they can't do anything and increasing your archery and stealth abilities on the go.

4. : Yes, I really disliked Cicero when I first met him and it was exactly the other way around with Ulfric Stormcloak (whose body is supposed to be shown there, too...). During the progress of the game and the story, I began to sympathise with Cicero, even though he's ...difficult.... as a follower and my sympathies for Ulfric faded more and more. There are other people and factions I maybe dislike as much as him and his purpose, or even more, but since I wanted to bring in this Don McLean reference so badly, Ulfric was the one who took the shortest straw.

5. : Legate Fasendil. I think he is the dream of many Dragonborn characters (and their creators). For an Altmer he is incredibly sexy and I as a player really enjoyed seeing such a masculine elf. Revyn Sadri, on the other hand, was really cute when Rel first stumbled into his shop and she likes his straightforward fair-mindedness.

Biography-wise I imagine Rel to really fall for the legate, since they have many things in common (being far from a home they barely know/remember, hating the Thalmor, having seen many terrible things...) but on the other hand I think Revyn is better for her as some kind of anchor in her troubled life. I must say, because of the conversation you have with him, I think he hasn't always been a trader. His commentary on the size of the house (and Rel lives in Proudspire Manor) made me assume that he might know even better and probably more noble houses.

6. : I think this quest is everyone's favourite. I enjoyed the part about Gleda most. And Sanguine is such a cheeky trickster. I remember, back when my first Dovahkiin met him and joined in the drinking game, I was like "WTF? Why am I in Markarth now? And I did WHAT to WHOSE statue????". With Rel now, I experienced something new as a player: When Rel was hiking in the mountains of Reach, an Argonian called Deep-In-His-Cups approached her and brabbled something about a hat. She talked him down to 750 Septims for the worthless hat and he walked away. This guy was even stranger than the madwoman who wanted me to use Sheogorath's Wabbajack on her.....

7. : Whole-heartedly the College of Magic! Rel is officially Arch-Mage now and I think her former class-mates are just the cutest kids in Skyrim. Especially Onmund and Brelyna. And now, after installing the English version, I was very positively surprised about Onmund's voice. I didn't expect one so pleasing to my ears as his. And J'zargo, you suicidal little cleptomaniac, you. As a follower you were really cool, but would you please stop jumping into Rel's way when she's casting flames?

8. : There it is - hobbity, silver-eyed me, wearing a Bowie-shirt. Since I only just started playing Oblivion, I really have no idea, what would happen if these two met, so I chose the other option instead.

9. : I think this is really self-explanatory. Anyway, when I was wandering through the volcanic fields of Rift for the first time, I was laughing so hard at this sight. Unfortunately, back then my other Dovahkiin, accidentaly stole a piece of clothing from the hunters and had to kill all of them. Rel doesn't make this mistake, that's for sure!

10. : I admit, this is my favourite drawing of this whole thing and I do ship them. Very hard. I didn't want to put a mature content on this, nor cover their perfect bodies, so go with the Barbie-breasted version instead. If Mattel can sell nippleless adult-women-shaped dress-up-dolls to children, I can upload this drawing to tumblr. Or not, apparently. So here’s the ugly sports bra version.

11. : Khajiit. What else can I say. I love them. Their faces, their accent, their background (minus the Skooma smuggling) - they are the best invention for this game, ever. And I would be really happy, if The Elder Scrolls VI played in Elsweyr and we get to see more than just this one breed of Khajiit.

#art #mutantenfischart #nsftumblr #elder scrolls #skyrim #character meme #let's see if tumblr allows this #i'm still super proud of it #relmaris dralur #legate fasendil #cicero #khajiit #dunmer #altmer #brelyna maryon #onmund #j'zargo

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roxannepolice · 5 years

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I know that people are annoyed that Ridley receives either shippy questions or parentage questions. But I don't think it's because Rey is a female character as some says... for me, it's just because Rey isn't intrresting on her own: nobody believes that she could fall to the dark side or did things wrong (it's still possible with Palpy and all but she'll always be victorious like the Re), etc. so the relationships she has with others is the sole thing that can be interesting to ask, in a way.

Well, thank you, anon, for giving me a pretext to give my own two cents about daisygate because otherwise I'd probably keep to myself.

Because I won't lie, a bad, b*tchy trickster in me is feeling a nasty, nasty Schadenfreude at the current meltdown. Hey, I never said I'm a good person.

Like, sorry but pining Rey who won't feel at home in the resistance though will be putting a mask on while her heroic journey is all about Ben's redemption has never been dubious only because of fallogocentrism. Like, ffs, even the Kylo is redeemable interview was more about why Rey is awesome and not stupid to reach out to him than what is star wars about.

Anyway

I'm going to also be a little analytical here. I think it's worth noting that Rey is the first sw protagonist who entered the scene with everyone and their dogs knowing what Star Wars is about - and that it isn't about a single person and their hand in taking down an empire. From narrative perspective it is Luke's part in Vader's redemption that's more important but he didn't become a popcultural icon through redeeming his father only blowing up Death Star 1.0. With Anakin it has always been about how will he conceive Luke and Leia and become Darth Vader but let's not forget he was a clone war legend too. But with Rey... yeah, the question has always been what is her place in relation to the other characters? While everyone's dropped jaws insist otherwise, Rey has done relatively little in war plotline so far: she defeated Kylo on SKB and lifted some rocks while Anakin by this point has destroyed the droid mothership, participated in battle of Geonosis and fought count Dooku and Luke has rescued Leia, delivered the DS plans, blew DS up and participated in the Snow Battle for which they got good job, padawan and you owe me one, respectively. So while we all know that Rey's story isn't about the war, I'm not sure this is the mindset Ridley has been playing with all along.

Then again, I also kinda sympathise with her. I've recently run into a quote from none other than Mark Hamill and while he often just whines to whine I agree with him on this one: the current mode of making blockbusters took much agency away from the actors. Because now it's all about protecting the spoilers from leaking and omg what if somebody guesses our uberclever endgame, actors get little information, receive scripts on need to know basis, apparently the only character who knew Infinity War's full endgame haha was sorcerer supreme, hell, in the same article Nicolai Coster-Waldau was quoted saying that Got goes so far that they get instructions through little earphones while on set. So most actors are just puppets in directors hands, there's no room for proper character creation, to brainstorm over them with friends, even non-acting ones, as Hamill got sentimental was the case during OT. Though this makes me kinda appreciate that Adam Driver knew something all along kinda like Alan Rickman in HP.

So, yeah, sorry that this has become a deeper reflection on the condition of contemporary actor in information society and how media narcissism is limiting individual creativity. But, yeah, the bottom line is that maybe not everyone's idea of what makes an interesting character are FLIIIIIPTOOOOOOOPS.

#asks #daisygate #tw: negativity #i still keep hope this is heading somewherr #but sorry rey's likelier to become a sith than actually show her feelings for ben before he redeems himself #culture ramblings #cultural ramblings

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shadowfaximpala · 7 years

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Runaway

(GIF not mine)

MASTERLIST

Summary: Endless fights and constantly toying with death, your brothers had finally wedged a gap the size of Kansas between themselves and you, causing you to flee out of frustration. In your search for peace you bump into a familiar soul, learning some unspoken truths in an attempt to mend the sibling bond.

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Reader, Sister Winchester, Fluff, Smut

Relationships: Sister!Winchester x Gabriel, Castiel x Dean (If you blink)

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Innuendos, Hinted Soul Mates

Author’s Notes: I’ve been AWOL all week writing this in my spare time, I really hope you guys enjoy it, I’ve been having a crappy week and my only escape is writing. Getting to everyone’s requests too! If I forgot to tag you lemme know ~ <3

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You couldn't take it any longer, Sam and Dean were literally at each other's throats once again, their metaphorical claws drawn and ready for blood. They had given death the middle finger so many times but Dean had given up on Sam’s lack of trying, his enthusiasm had died and that was a fate worse than death, the middle Winchester was so flippant about not seeking his brother out while he was gone, again. Neither of them gave any consideration as to your feelings on the matter... When Dean disappeared you searched day and night, you barely slept; you never ate. You looked like a hollowed out version of your former self while Sam continued to go about life in his own way, nonchalant and continuing to exist while your elder brother was in a fresh hell.

This time you flipped a volcanic switch, you blew up at both of them for their inconsiderate behaviour. Every fibre of your being hurt, you were worn down and dying inside, their arguments continued to snuff out your usual exuberant light.

“I've fucking had it with you two!” Their faces snapped from their current head butting match. “You two are the worst. Neither of you care how I felt, how I feel! Dean I looked everywhere for you, I tried so much shit that I'm not proud of to bring you back and you're mad at Sammy for giving up? Heck I’m mad as hell at him but what's the point in carrying on like this? We have no fucking family left and you insist on tearing a rip in all we have? Well screw this. I'm out of here. Don't look for me, forgive each other. I can't take this any longer!”

You grabbed your coat, stuffed some clothes into your bag and ran, leaving the two to continue their bickering. The hurting was literally eating you up inside. They were supposed to support each other, but all they ever did was fight along every step of the way. You were the youngest sibling but you were constantly caught in the middle of their shit-show.

You found the nearest dive and drank yourself into oblivion, the next morning waking up in some cheap motel room, a raging headache and no recollection of the night. For once you weren’t accompanied by a stranger. This time you were utterly alone to stew in your misery.

The next few nights followed the same grim routine, drinking and trying to ignore everything. You had thrown your phone out of the car window in a fit of rage leaving it to smash into a thousand pieces in the middle of the road so you didn't need to worry about checking it every five minutes to see if they had actually come to their senses, no this time you were officially done.

You downed a shot of what the bar was calling ‘Raspberry Nipple’, much to your delight the fruity palette went down a treat, chasing away the burning sensation of whiskey.

“Woah, slow down there sugar,” that voice… You knew it from somewhere… The pet-name, the delicious edges, the confidence exuding with vibrancy and life. Slowly you turned your head, your eyes snapping wide at the sight before you. A wide grin, deep amber eyes laced with so much mischief. The way his expression glinted at you, you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Gabriel… Aren’t you supposed to be-”

“Dead? Well, surprise!” He threw his hands in the air to feign a mock sense of animation to add to his facade of humour. You didn’t realise you were grinning wickedly at him, but he took your smile as an invitation, sitting down next to you and ordering the most expensive champagne the bartender could muster.

“So what’s cooking good lookin’, where are dumb and dumber this fine evening?” Something told you he already knew the answer, but you addressed him regardless. What you really wanted to know was how on earth the Archangel was sitting beside you after his throwdown with Lucifer so many moons ago.

“Well, they won’t stop bickering and I’ve had enough of listening to it, I split.” Sadness flashed with an unspoken understanding washed across his glorious features. You had always had a soft spot for Gabriel, there was a mutual bond between the two of you.

“Ah…” Is all he responded with before taking a sip from his glass. A comfortable silence nestled between you both before you decided to mention the elephant in the room.

“So… How did you escape Lucifer?” There was no sense beating around the bush. You were curious why he had chosen now, chosen you to reveal himself to.

“Well sweetcakes, the thing about being a Trickster is I know a thing or two about making a scene and escaping one.” You gave him a deadpan stare, he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I can conjure multiple decoys.” He tapped the end of his nose, the twinkle in his eye made your stomach ache. He had been gone for so long, you silently wondered how long you would keep running from your brothers and their apocalyptic sparking rage. Possibly an eternity at the rate they were accelerating.

The two of you sat for what seemed like hours, sympathising with each other, cracking jokes at the expense of Sam and Dean and the Archangels. There was no denying the bond that seemed to have grown even stronger in such a short period of time. You were able to open up completely and you hoped the former trickster had been able to do the same.

“I never got to thank you…” the mood took a sombre turn when the laughter had died. “You saved me and my brothers that night in the hotel. You gave us the keys to putting Lucifer back in the cage at the cost of your own life… Well,” you eyed him with amusement.

“And your brothers screwed that up, again…” He rolled his eyes but smiled at you in return. He knew as well as anyone the cost of family and the mayhem it left in its wake, especially with biblical ties, and you and your brothers seemed to mirror the acts of angelic history.

“I guess that's why you came back?” You looked at the archangel with hopeful eyes, his amber eyes un-creasing from the corners, a smile to a sad frown.

“I told myself I was done, last time I nearly died and yet here I am, showing my presence to you, I don't know why I'm here…” another silence fell over you both. The jukebox in the background clicked, a patron had decided to take advantage of the lack of atmosphere and breathe life into the noiseless bar. Heat of the moment by Asia belted through the room. You rolled your eyes, groaning with a fond smile, your memory taking you back to when you and Sam were trapped in an intimate loop, repeatedly watching Dean die in humorous ways.

“Really?!” You scoffed as you looked at the angel beside you who was grinning ear to ear.

“For once I didn't do that.” He offered, his eyebrows bouncing up and down.

“I hate this song.” You retorted, “can we blow this joint?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Surprise me…” You licked your bottom lip absentmindedly, Gabe’s eyes fell on your mouth, watching as your teeth pulled at the soft skin. You could feel the intensity of this encounter heat up at the chemical tension between the both of you, there was no denying it was always an electrifying experience when the two of you were in the same room, he shamelessly flirted with you in front of your brothers but you always shrugged it off. He always watched you with such a piercing gaze, you were sure you did the same with less angelic ferocity.

A click of his fingers and both of you dissipated into darkness, descending to another location. Your eyes fell on the scenery around you, surprising to say the least and oh so familiar.

Your brothers stood before you both with worried glances clutching to their phones, their demeanour completely on edge.

“You asshole,” you breathed, looking around to see Gabriel smiling sadly at you.

“Take it from me sweet cheeks, you three are better together.”

You quickly rounded on him, squaring up with a roll of your shoulders.

“And here you are still running from everything! I had to do this Gabriel. You of all beings in creation should understand!”

He sighed heavily. You looked back at the bunker, but nothing was moving the way it should, Sam and Dean hadn't even acknowledged your presence.

“Wait…” You looked backwards at the trickster angel. He gave you a giddy grin.

“We're here but not really here. We can see them and they can't see us. I know you don't want to go back, believe me I do understand. But you guys are stronger together, something my brothers and I couldn't ever accomplish. Just say the word and I’ll-” you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“I need a little longer.” You have him a pained expression, he acknowledged your request with a nod.

“A minute turns into a century, and before you know it you never stop running.” You weren't sure why this bothered him so much; the way he responded to you, he always seemed to want to guide you, he sympathised on a cosmic level. Gabriel understood you deeply, it was in that moment you saw a whole new side to him. One that ran deeper than common traits. Dean was Michael’s true vessel, Sam belonged to Lucifer, but your angel… he stood before you with caring amber eyes and his heart on his sleeve. You were his true vessel. His soul was bound to yours in a way that couldn't be put to simple terms.

“You realise it now?” Almost like he had read your mind an eyebrow arched inquisitively. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and nodded.

“Only took me several years, but yeah I think I get it.” You approached him, slowly and carefully. After all he was one of the of powerful beings in creation, he could end you where you stood or alter your reality, your whole being entirely. But you threw caution to the wind.

“Phew, thank Dad for that, hey I’m not asking if I can you know… abuse your soul. I have no need for a new vessel, this one suits me just fine.” He tilted his head at your unusual approach. You reached out to him with trembling fingers, you hesitated barely centimetres from him but clarity mixed with confidence gave you enough of a push, you placed the flat of your palm against his chest. You looked up at him through your lashes, your face an open canvas of raw emotion. You expected him to step back from you, to force himself away but he was rooted to the spot. A warm hand brushed against your cheek as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I always knew why I had a sweet spot for you…” He gave you a small grin, the bend of his fingers brushing back against your jaw as he tilted your head up to him. Your heart began hammering in your chest, skipping beats entirely with the sheer force of how it pined for this… pined for him. He took your proximity and how you leaned into his touch as an open invitation. Soft lips brushed against your own, a gentle caress sent sparks of electricity flowing through you, you knew he felt it too because the gentle caress became more passionate, more fierce and ultimately divine. His tongue entered your mouth where you didn't put up much of a fight. Your body crushed against his as he pulled your hips closer to his soaring heat, you welcomed the contact, encircling your arms around his neck. Your soul felt like white hot fire, there was no denying this sort of connection.

He clicked his fingers, privacy invaded your senses, you knew what Gabriel was hinting so you responded by rolling your hips against his. He let out a soft groan, grabbing your ass and beckoning you to him, his arousal evident under the strain of fabric between you both. His mouth left yours for a brief moment, he pulled back to stare into your eyes, so much hope and wanting displayed in those captivating amber eyes.

“I wish I'd done this sooner…” he eyed you wearily for a moment. “Are you sure you want this? Want me?” His eyebrow arched at you briefly. You knew he wasn't just asking for an intimate fling, he wanted this emotional bond between you, the unspoken glances, the flirtatious quips, the way he always stood next to you when he was in the room with you and your brothers, it might have been a long time since you both crossed paths but you never forgot.

“Gabe I've always known there was a connection between us beyond our tragic love of family and smutty sense of humour.” Your face softened. “I want this, I want you, it was always you.” The way his face changed made your chest physically ache. His hand cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch as his mouth descended on yours once again, he trailed soft pecks along your face, down your throat to the hollow sweet spot on your neck. You let out a whimpering hiss as pleasure flooded through you. Your hand entangled into his thick locks of hair as you moaned, your breath growing short a ragged with each pass from your lungs.

Gabriel pushed you back onto a soft mattress, his body now flush against your own, sending your brain into a frenzy. His name whispered from your lips as cool air hit your body. Your clothes were gone in a flash along with his. The feel of his skin against yours felt so heavenly. He didn't waste any time before he had lined himself up with your dripping entrance.

His golden orbs buried themselves into yours, watching you for any sign of restraint.

“I want this,” you reassured before you could beg him he had sheathed himself deep inside of you, moving at a dangerously slow pace eliciting sweet noises from you as you adjusted to accommodate him. The way his hips began to grind against you, he hit every sweet spot with such precision you were beginning to unfold too quickly, you had wanted this longer than you dared admit that the sensation was too much. Gabriel knew you were close by the way your walls closed around him, getting tighter and tighter, you expected him to thrust faster, instead he slid his cock from you, flipping you onto your front, delving into you from a new angle. He was gentle at first, the way he pumped your folds had you seeing white spots, but his lust soon clouded over, he was now pounding into you with a ferocious speed, his hand encircled your front, working your clit into a painfully delicious overload of bliss. Your teeth clenched as he rammed into you over and over. Your screams were becoming erratic, until your lungs just couldn't give anymore, your breathing was laboured and heavy as he continued his divine ministrations.

“Not yet,” he growled in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and grazing the skin softly earning a soft mewl of a whimper, you were on your back again in a flash, Gabe’s hands firmly holding your thigh above your hip as he worked you again. His lips found yours in a sweet and passionate embrace, his tongue dancing in circles with your own. That familiar sensation returned once again, now more intense than before, the need for an end almost too much to bear.

“Come for me sugar,” he groaned softly.

You swore you had a flash of heaven before your eyes as stars burst in the back of your mind, orgasm after orgasm ripped over you like a tidal wave engulfing everything. The way your slick folds contracted around the archangel sent him over the same cliff, his movements ceased as he revealed in the glory of his own release.

He flopped down unceremoniously next to you, you never imagined the once sleazy angel to be such a passionate lover, but here he was, exposed to you, giving himself up to you in a way you had never imagined.

You melted under his gaze, his hand clasped around yours delicately.

“I promise I will stop running in a few days.” He gave you a soft huff of disapproval but snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“I'll just have to keep you entertained until then,” he mused, his lips finding yours.

The days passed in a long blur of hot passionate sex, talking, endless supplies of candy and junk food. Why Gabriel chose to snack on such things was beyond you, especially when Castiel insisted food tasted like ash to angels, but this part of him made him feel almost human to you. Basking in his company a few days extended into a week, and into a month. For once Gabriel lost all sense of time when he was with you, he'd treat you to long walks on the beach in the evening followed by a pitstop in a random corner of the world. You hadn't felt genuine happiness such as what he had given you for an eternity, but that worry for your brothers crept back in constantly, he could see it in your face but he never mentioned it. One evening he clicked out to check in them at your request, by the time he had returned you had your bags packed. His eyes roamed your figure as you had returned to your usual hunting attire, your hair pinned back loosely. Gabriel embraced you with a grin.

“Glad you've come to your senses, it's time for us to stop running sweetheart.” You searched those intense whiskey eyes to find nothing but acceptance and compassion, despite his temper and tricks, he really was a gentle and loving angel, one you had completely fallen for, hopelessly and irrevocably, your heart belonged to him like nobody else could imagine. “Ready?” You nodded, your hands falling to his chest as the world dropped away to be replaced by the bunker.

“I told you Dean she doesn't want to be fou-” Sam stood over Dean. His shoulders were hunched with worry, Dean looked like he hadn't slept in forever, dark circles enslaved his usually vibrant eyes, his stubble growing impossibly long, Sam’s hair was even more shaggy than usual, he too looked like a vision of hell. Their attention turned to you. Dean rubbed his eyes before jumping out of his seat, knocking the chair over. You expected him to shout, to scream, to scold you for being so reckless and making them worry. You motioned closer, readying yourself to fight your corner as your feet drifted from the angel beside you to meet your eldest brother square on.

Instead you were pulled into a bone crushing hug. Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. A second pair of arms wrapped around you both as Sam threw himself into a hug. The three of you embraced for a long while before they allowed you to breathe. They hadn't even acknowledged a certain archangel, their attention was solely focused on you.

“A thank you would be nice. You know, I saved your asses way back when and delivered your sister to you safe and sound.” As always the sass in Gabriel shone through. Sam’s head shot up, his jaw clenching tight.

“Gabriel…” Sam said with a hint of horror and disbelief, you craned your neck to glance at Gabe, your feet pulling you backwards to stand next to the trickster.

“Oh please, just call me Gabe,” he threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “Or bro… whichever is cool with me,” Your brothers looked at the proximity between the two of you, the change in atmosphere, the way your face became a bashful wash of smiles and embarrassment.

“Come again?” Dean’s head snapped to the side, his eyes squinted at the archangel.

“That's what Y/N-” you kicked him in the shin before he could continue that sentence, an ‘ouch’ escaped his lips.

“Er, surprise?” Your voice was an octave higher than usual as you stared at Sam and Dean, hoping in all creation that they wouldn't dowse the celestial being in holy oil and set him on fire.

“Oh heavens no!” Dean shot at you both violently shaking his head, but before he could even insist that he disagreed with your relationship you rounded on him.

“Not. Another. Word.” You chose your tone and pace carefully, a dangerous edge laced in venom. “We owe Gabriel far more than we ever gave him credit for, he gave us a way to cage Lucifer, he well - supposedly - sort of - sacrificed himself for us and he brought me back here, if he hadn't of found me I would have kept on running from you both. So before you condemn your relationship with me entirely I suggest you suck it up.” Your brothers were speechless.

“Well… she's brought worse guys home.” Dean jested. Sam gave his brother an incredulous look of irritation, before glaring at you both.

“You pull any crap and we send your ass on an express train to permanent death, you hurt my sister in any way and there won't be a place in the whole universe you could hide. I will find you.” Sam’s brows were knitted together, his body looked stiff but regimented as though he was readying himself for a disagreement.

“Wouldn't dream of it boys, I love your sister.” His featured conveyed a genuine smile. His hand found your own and gave a gentle squeeze, your heart lurched into a painful twist at his words. Despite impending doom and another Armageddon you felt at peace, that moment right there was as perfect as it could have ever been, surrounded by the two men and an archangel you would sacrifice anything for…

A flap of wings echoed through the war room, alerting you all that you had company. A familiar beige coat could be seen in the corner of your peripheral vision.

“Dean I think I found-” Castiel regarded you, his blue eyes growing wider as his line of sight fell upon Gabriel.

“Y/N...” He finished, “Brother,” he greeted. “Is it you this time?” His deep voice sounded full of suspicion, you didn’t want to ask.

“In the flesh,” Gabriel replied. “No Illusions.” Castiel smiled widely truly joyous at his brothers return.

“It’s good to see you, I’d heard rumours that you were in Verona with Y/N, but I couldn’t believe it.” Cas lightly embraced Gabriel, patting him on the shoulder.

“Verona?” Dean shot into the conversation. “You’ve been in Verona this whole time shacking up with the trickster?”

“Ouch, still here Dean-o,” Gabe placed a hand over his heart, pretending to feel wounded.

“Well not the entire time, we kind of went on a world tour,” You added.

“Lots of sights and lots of-” He raised his hands to feign a childish imitation of what adults do in their spare time before you batted his hands down.

“I really don’t think my brothers need to hear this,” you groaned.

“We’ve seen enough thanks to your sleazy tape, thanks.” Dean grunted, he looked as though he wanted to vomit, you didn’t want to imagine what was going through his mind at that point. Having Gabriel around was going to certainly liven things up in the bunker.

“Well, shall we celebrate this family reunion?” Gabriel snapped his fingers together, summoning all sorts of variants of cake, pie and beer. Dean looked from present company to the table, his eyebrows now glued up in surprise to his forehead.

“You know, I could get used to having you around…” He admitted, licking his lips and sauntering off to stuff his face full of delicious delights.

“That’s one way to win them over,” Castiel jested at Gabe in a low tone, watching Dean with an overly fond smile. Even Sam had wandered over to inspect the food. You laughed as your eldest brother shovelled a whole slice of pecan pie into his mouth.

“Well it looks like you’ve gained their approval,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around Gabriel’s waist. Suddenly the world melted away again, forgetting everything around you existed as he stared lovingly at you.

“Hey!” Dean shouted at you, “Get a room, none of that rom-com crap in here,” he said through a mouthful stuffed full of dessert.

“Spoil sport,” Gabriel fired back before smirking at you. “You heard him...” With a snap of his fingers you were transported from the bunker; the room was lined with candles, a heart shaped bed sat in the middle adorned with rose petals. You let out a soft laugh at such a cheesy gesture, Gabriel was certainly many things, including classy.

“You know you love it,” he recalled fondly.

“Yes, and I love you.” You spoke with a bemused glint at the way his face lit up. You knew you were in for one heaven on a night.

Tags: @gabrieltrash @laneygthememequeen @roxy-davenport

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rowdy-revenant · 7 years

Text

Tall Tales and Short Stories

Pairing: Gabriel x reader

Words: 1300+

Summary: You manage to befriend the strange janitor at your college.

Based on the request by: @becca-boop1310

Warnings: Bullying

A/N: My hiatus is over. Miss me?

[General masterlist]

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Nobody ever notices the people in the background. Nobody thanks the lunch lady for serving food, nobody asks the librarian how their day was, nobody ever says hello to the janitor. And that's exactly what Gabriel was counting on.

As the janitor of Crawford Hall University, the Trickster could go anywhere, listen in on anyone, and nobody would bat an eye. It was the perfect disguise, hiding in plain sight. Nobody would ever know, hell nobody would ever ask, who he was.

Except to keep up this cover, sometimes Gabriel actually had to do- ugh- work. He was an archangel, for crying out loud, and he was sweeping the floor!

Cafeteria duty always sucked the most. The mess hall looked like a hurricane had hit it once the students moved out. And dear dad, the jocks ate like there was no tomorrow and cleaned up like there was no trash can.

Today was no different. The students at the university were sitting at their tables of cliques, chattering on about midterms. Honestly, it was worse than high school.

The sounds of a tray clattering to the floor notified Gabriel that it was time to move out of the corner and do his dumb job. A student was on their hands and knees, grabbing items that had been spilled, and trying to put them back on the tray.

“Don’t worry, kid. I got it.” Gabriel assured you.

Reluctantly, you got up and out of the way. Some students were still snickering, pointing at the pasta sauce that now covered your shirt. You’d been walking when all of a sudden a foot appeared out of nowhere, sending you hurtling to the ground.

“You got two left feet, freak?” Curtis, the head jock and Crawford’s reigning asshole, guffawed.

“I don’t see why that would be a problem. I mean, you’re on the football team.” You sassed.

Curtis clenched his fists with anger, but you ignored him. Gabriel tried to hide a smile at your perfect comeback.

You smiled at the janitor once he’d cleaned up. “Thank you.” You said, quietly.

The man smiled. “Hey, just doing my job.”

Back to being wallpaper, it was, to the both of you, not that you minded. While Gabriel used it as a disguise, you used it as protection. It meant fewer people to bother you, fewer people to use you as a punchline.

Curtis turned back to his friends, immediately forgetting you existed. “You hear about the professor?”

“I heard he tried to get tail and got murdered.” One of his friends retold.

The jock snorted. “No way. He just took a nosedive from his office.”

Ah, so the news was spreading. Gabriel felt a little pride that his work hadn’t gone unnoticed. But at the same time, this might attract unwanted attention.

“You think it’s the ghost of room 669?” A girl piped up.

“Ghosts? God, you’re starting to talk like the weirdo.” Curtis scoffed, looking in your direction. “Like seriously, I’d rather slow dance with an alien than read one of their dumb stories.”

Gabriel crossed his arms. This pledge master had a reputation for being a bully. You stood up to him, which Gabriel admired, but it didn’t look like Curtis would change. He’d just made his way onto the trickster’s list of targets.

Was it dangerous? Yes. Did it only make the pair of hunters that had recently arrived more suspicious? Yes. But was making Curtis think he’d been abducted by aliens, probed, and forced to slow dance worth it? Hell. Yes.

The rumour spread around campus like the plague in medieval England. People were talking about the pledge master who’d been rambling on about aliens like a madman.

It felt like poetic justice to you. You were glad to finally have some peace. Even more, it would make a great short story.

It was time to head home. Most had already left the campus. You liked this little bit of time. Just you and your thoughts.

“Hey, hold the door!”

Well, you, your thoughts, and the janitor. You stopped the door you exited out of before it could close and pulled it back open.

The janitor, hands full of boxes, walked through. “Thanks, sugar. Guess who put off moving supplies? Now an entire wing is out of toilet paper.”

You laughed. “Here, let me help you.”

His eyes peeked over the mountain of boxes and you could see his brow furrow. “You sure? It's pretty late.”

“It's fine, I live pretty close. I don't mind helping.” You replied.

“I'd offer you a hand, but…” The janitor said, causing you to laugh again. “My name's Gabriel.”

It had been over a thousand years since he said that. Over a thousand years since he had used his real name. He could have told you anything. Loki, Griffin, Sam, Richard, all past aliases. Yet somehow, he trusted you enough to say 'Gabriel'.

“Nice to meet you, Gabriel,” You said, taking a box from the top of the pile and carrying in your arms. “I'm Y/N.”

“Y/N, yeah! I've seen you around campus. Always with a notebook. You a creative writing major?”

“Yeah. I want to be an author in the future.” You confessed. “Don't think I ever will be, though.”

“What? No way!” Gabriel exclaimed. “I bet you're an awesome writer. Tell you what, we meet up for coffee tomorrow and you read me something from your notebook.”

“What? No! My stories are-”

“Erotic?” Gabriel asked with a smirk.

You tried not to laugh. “No! I was going to say horrible. Besides, what would I get out of it?”

“A free coffee and seeing me out of uniform?” Gabriel said, wiggling his brow.

“Okay, okay. I guess I need a beta reader anyway.” You complied.

“Awesome,” Gabe said, setting the boxes in his arms on the ground and taking one from you. “It's a date.”

You smiled and walked off, Gabriel was glad you finally started to talk to him. You may not have been popular, but you didn’t care. You fought back.

A cowardly archangel had to admire that.

You jogged into the small coffee shop, the aroma of ground beans hitting you right away. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for Gabriel.

The college janitor was sitting at a table in the corner, one hand holding a tabloid, the other stirring a whipped-cream covered hot chocolate monstrosity with a teaspoon.

“Sewer gators?” You asked, the faint hint of exhaustion in your voice.

“Crazy what people will believe, huh?” Gabriel replied with a grin. “Glad you can make it, Cupcake.”

You sat down, taking off your shoulder bag and placing it on the floor. “Sorry I’m late, I slept in.” You sighed.

“Not a problem. Want me to get you something? It’s on me.” Gabriel offered.

“Oh, I can’t-”

“Relax, sugar. It’s the least I can do.”

Finally, you complied, giving Gabriel your order. As he walked off to the counter, you couldn’t help but stare a little. He looked good in casual wear, especially from behind.

“So, how long have you been working at Crawford Hall?” You asked once Gabriel sat back down.

“Six years.” He replied. “Might quit soon.”

“Oh.” Your face fell. “Why?”

Gabriel couldn’t exactly say ‘because there are hunters on my trail and I’m not in the mood to get a stake through the chest.’

“Just have better things to do, I guess.” Was the excuse. Not a lie, just not the full truth.

“I can understand that.” You sympathised. “I’ll miss you.”

Gabriel grinned, tapping his fingers gently on the table top. “Aww, you care about me. I’ll miss you too.”

You smiled, hoping your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. You took your laptop out and placed it on the table, turning it on. “You sure you want to read my stories?” You asked.

“More than anything,” Gabriel replied.

Suddenly being a janitor didn't seem like the worst thing in the world to Gabriel.

~ Murdoch’s tag list - want to be added or removed? Send me an ask! ~

All fics: @alexanderhamlinsin @a-r-c-h-a-n-g-e-l @ashiewesker @ashtheironbat @authoressskr @baritonechick @blessedbebucky @crowleysprincess159 @cynda-kiwi @d4rzill4@eileenlikesyou-maybe @ellienovak @fayemenelmir @feelmyroarrrr @gabriels-depressed-angel @hiswickedkitty @hunters-hiraeth @kristaparadowski @lenawiinchester @like-gabriel-and-castiel @madelineannmolder @negansgrimes @oldpaperfan @sdavid09 @shrimpdrake @sumara62 @team-barry @thehowling1234 @thewhiterabbit42 @treitike@tenderlybeautifulbarbarian @tyrex15 @unsink-the-titanic

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#gabriel x reader #gabriel #janitor!gabriel #supernatural x reader #reader insert #tall tales #requested #tw: bullying

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swiftkick404 · 7 years

Text

AU: Ginny's memories of her First Year and her time with the diary horcrux are wiped. Things go a little differently because of this - especially as she resists the rule of Death Eaters in Hogwarts in her Sixth Year :) [WIP five chapters 30k words]

the second splinter

chapter five: the condemned and the conspiring

o o o

silent knife, unholy knife

o o o

Ginny shared her room in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with Hermione, and for most of the summer that had been a perfectly fine arrangement.

It was less than ideal since their latest guest's arrival at the old house.

She stood outside her bedroom in a dark hallway and considered possible places to sleep that didn't also house her brother, Ron, and a very agitated Harry Potter.

From the other side of the door, Ginny could hear the three of them: Hermione trying to be placating, Ron attempting mumbled support, and Harry speaking quickly and lowly while he paced the room. He would hit the floorboard at the end of Ginny's bed and turn there, on the squeakiest spot, in his laps.

He was genuinely upset about You-Know-Who, and Ginny sympathised, really, she did, but she was also tired and frustrated. If the three of them couldn't bother to include her, then they should have at least had the decency to do their private conferences in Ron and Harry's room. She wanted her pyjamas and the squishy feather pillow with the soft cotton sheeting and she wanted to sleep.

She also wanted to be involved in their conversation but that wasn't going to happen.

Ginny gave the door a very perturbed look and turned for the staircase. There were lights on in the kitchen and she decided if she couldn't find a bed for the night, then company would have to suffice.

“Hey, Tonks,” she greeted the older woman as she dragged her feet into the kitchen.

“Wotcha!” Tonks grinned, her face pink and eyes a little glassy. Eying Ginny's frizzled state, she pointed out the obvious. “Sleep evading you?”

“Those three are holed up in my room. Didn't even invite me,” Ginny grouched.

Also at the table with Tonks was Sirius Black. Tonks had changed her hair to match his in colour, styled with one side long and the other buzzed, and the two could have been models on a rock album cover. Between them, furthering the rebel image, was the remaining third of a bottle of whiskey and a set of shot glasses.

Ginny took a seat with them and nodded to the alcohol. “Mum'll be after your heads for that.”

Sirius didn't often engage Ginny in conversation – they didn't ever have much reason to acknowledge the other in any specific manner – but he perked up at Ginny's warning. Smiling at her, he tapped his nose and winked. “Mum'll have to be awake to know any better.”

“Molly's finally worried herself to sleep,” Tonks said, shaking her head. “I haven't seen someone drop like that in a long time.”

Ginny was surprised. Her mother had been a ball of terrible energy for the entirety of the summer holiday and Ginny had sort of expected her to shun sleep until “the kids” were at least back at school.

“She really needed it,” Ginny murmured. Her gaze landed determinedly on the whiskey.

Sirius noticed and set his chair forward from where he had been sitting on its hind legs. Inclining his chin at the bottle, he asked, “interested?”

“No, no, not a good idea –” Tonks slapped away Sirius' sneaking hand. “Sorry, Gin.”

Ginny shared Sirius' devastated, open-mouthed stare of utter betrayal. She pointed out, aghast, “Tonks, you're supposed to be the fun one.”

“Don't the two of you team up. That's not fair!”

“Shit, what does a kid have to go through these days to earn a little whiskey.” Sirius was smiling, but it was a strange face he made. Bitter and disbelieving. “Fer cryin' out, Tonks, she's had just as much madness going on in her head as Harry –”

Ginny nodded, but didn't exactly understand his meaning. It sounded like a good argument.

“Totally mad,” she agreed.

Tonks' face went noticeably whiter and her eyes flickered, alarmed, over Ginny and back to Sirius. She said with a thin lip, “that's enough, Sirius.”

It took a moment for the warning to hit for Sirius. “Oh! Fuck – right. Shit, I meant – I meant –”

Understanding she was missing something important shared between the two, Ginny dropped her playful sadness and frowned. “What? What is it? What are you talking about?”

Because it usually went as such, Ginny thought they were talking about Harry. Another terrible thing had happened and he was worse off than before. Something more than the scar aches, perhaps?

“We're all dealing with the You-Know-Who stuff, innit?” She said. Insisting, “I could use whiskey. I've had it before. Charlie thinks he's good at hiding his stash.”

“Right, right,” Sirius said. He reached for the bottle and glasses again, tapped one with his wand so that it replicated itself, and handed one of the pair to Tonks and the third to Ginny. Easing his cousin's apprehension, he promised, “she'll just take a sip.”

Ginny held up two fingers close together. “Little sip.”

“She'll probably not even like it.”

“I'll hate it, I promise.”

Sirius whispered, quite audibly, “she's weak, now, Ginny. She's three under already.”

The two of them, a pair of tricksters, snickered as Tonks dragged a hand down her face and haggardly waved the other one for Sirius to pour a round. She grumbled about how they were very barbaric to strong arm her in such a way.

Ginny asked Sirius, who sat with easy composure, “have you really had three shots?”

He did whisper then, “actually this is her fifth and I've stopped at my first.”

“Cruel man.”

“I have a reputation to maintain, but hell, I'm not in my twenties any more.” He made a very big show of disappointment to hide his remorse.

“Stop your conspiring, the lot of you,” Tonks said, straightening her posture and becoming very determined. Lifting her glass, she solemnly called, “cheers,” and drained her shot.

Across from her, Sirius tipped his glass back, his mouth closed, and Ginny watched the whiskey reappear in the bottle. She swirled her own serving and put back the spoonful amount. Only enough to burn her lips and tongue and trickle down her throat in a hot, buzzing line. Ginny kept her features neutral; it really wasn't a taste she loved.

Tonks dropped her head to the table, groaning. “I've made so many bad decisions in my life to lead me to this moment.”

Sirius breathed out a shallow laugh.

“She'll be alright,” he assured Ginny. He held a finger to his mouth and poured another bit of whiskey into her glass. “Life is short.”

She didn't drink it right away, and instead slid the glass between her hands while trying to keep the drink from spilling over. She tucked a leg under her and rested her head on the other, raised tight to her chest. Sirius seemed content to sit and listen to Tonks' increasingly less coherent mumblings.

The kitchen was quiet but for the soft sound of snoring by the time Ginny got around to draining her second “shot.” More tingling at her lips.

“Don't care for it,” she said honestly. “When it's this hot out, the drink makes it worse.”

Sirius made a non-committal type of noise. He didn't seem to mind the warmth.

She asked then, because the question had been bugging her, and because she sensed a vulnerability in his front, “why would I be mad?”

They might have been talking about Harry earlier, but Sirius had said she, Ginny Weasley, had just as much madness in her head. Not just everyone was dealing with the resurgence of You-Know-Who, but her in particular.

Ginny watched Sirius tense slightly, a stiffness entering his shoulders and jaw. He liked to hold an aura of carefree fun – especially around Harry and her siblings – but he had tells and he hadn't quite remembered how to hide them. His shadowed eyes slid from watching Tonks to meet Ginny's patient, inquisitive stare. He winced at something he saw in her face.

“What?” She wondered, a little wounded by the reaction.

He didn't want to answer her – and he didn't answer her, not really.

“You said I was a cruel man?” The rhetorical statement hung between them, threatening to fall and end their odd and rare conversation. Then Sirius sighed and rubbed at his temples. Gravely, “I wouldn't have done that, though.”

She pinched her mouth at one corner, but let him talk at his own pace.

“Listen, Ginny, I'm all for keeping the whole of you informed. I've seen what happens when information is withheld from the right people. I know that,” he told her, his tone apologetic. Abstractly, “I don't like it. I don't.”

Shaking her head in confusion, she admitted she still didn't understand.

Sirius pushed his chair back, fidgeting, then pulled it again to the table to lean over to her. “They would prefer not to talk about what happened, Ginny. They would prefer it didn't happen at all.”

His closeness was unnerving, and his rambling meaningless to her, but Ginny felt an unexplained thrumming of excitement down her middle. She chewed her numb lip and waited with a breath trapped in her lungs for him to say something more.

“What happened?” She asked after Sirius considered her for too long a moment.

Her voice seemed to rouse him from his thoughts and the man retreated to his seat, went back to balancing on its legs. Looking away, all he he said was, “we've all seen it, Ginny.”

And she liked how he said her name, like he meant it. He said it like she wasn't a simple child fumbling around adults. But he also said it in a way that recognised a weariness in her she didn't see herself.

She watched his gaze become too distant for the tiny kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

“We've all been there,” Sirius said. “We've all seen the darkness. You're not alone.”

He might have been attempting to reassure her, but Ginny felt a hollow ache in her middle at his words.

#harry potter fanfiction #Ginny Weasley #Sirius Black #Nymphadora Tonks #harry potter au #one of my fics has 2100 reviews and this one has 16.... what has gone wrong in my life....

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