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malfoymanortings · 3 years

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fluorescent adolescent PART 2

summary: Fred Weasley has been drawing the eldest Malfoy daughter since his third year of Hogwarts. Elara Malfoy has fancied Fred Weasley since her fifth year at Hogwarts. It is during their final year, that the two of them do something about the mutual attraction.

pairing: Fred x OC older Malfoy sister

not related to flames and snow!! just a different perspective on Fred x older Malfoy sister.

let me know if you guys want a part three. also, this was my first time writing smut so hopefully it was good!

Elara Malfoy had a thing for Fred Weasley.

She wasn’t quite sure when it had started, maybe in third year when he had stumbled into her path reeking of gunpowder; he had taken that opportunity to bow to the “Slytherin princess” and apologized profusely before being dragged off by his twin. Daphne Greengrass, her closest friend, had scoffed and told her the blood traitor was mocking her.

But although Elara agreed, she secretly felt it wasn’t a joke to Fred.

So yes, it was her narcissism that made Fred Weasley seem so appealing to her, as the thought of the boy calling her the Slytherin Princess (I am so sorry I knocked into you, goddess, it won’t happen again, I swear it!), made her liking of the boy grow. Of course, that was a secret she would have to take deep to her grave with her, unless she wanted to be disowned and removed from the Malfoy family. Elara had already worked hard to be part of that family, as her father was a rotten man with disgusting ideals and the worst view on punishments for a child. She didn’t spend her childhood taking beatings for both her and her brother to prove her worth just to throw it all away over a boy, a blood traitor nonetheless!

It was hard, though. Especially when she knew he stared at her all the time. Especially during the Yule Ball, when he had looked so delectable and had taken the gorgeous Angelina Johnson as his date, it was ever so hard for Elara to swallow her jealousy. Theodore Nott may have been handsome, but he was nothing next to Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley was stunning, and had the personality that was rare to find.

Fred Weasley was annoying and witty, hilarious and clever. George and him were the best pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, in her opinion. Of course, they normally targeted Slytherin’s as their intended victims, but usually it was well deserved, Elara had to admit. The man was so open yet closed off, as Elara had never dared speaking to him.

Her brother Draco had a big mouth, and the last thing she needed was for him to gossip with father and tell him that Elara was even speaking civilly with a Weasley.

Yet when the opportunity in Potions class presented itself, Elara agreed upon meeting Fred Weasley at the astronomy tower around midnight. She dressed carefully that night, her best matching lace set, covered with fishnets and a black skirt, white blouse combo. She left her hair down, rings on her fingers, and applied a generous amount of her perfume to tie it all together.

Elara headed for the astronomy tower exactly at midnight, taking care to make sure no one saw her leave. She kept her wand up the sleeve of her robes, at the ready just in case she ran into any sort of trouble. Like that idiot Umbridge, what a nasty woman. If it weren’t for her father being so close with the Ministry, she would spit at the woman. Instead, she had to play nice and act like the disgusting toad wasn’t vile.

Fred Weasley seemed impatient, pacing back and forth and glancing at the watch on his wrist.

Elara stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring him openly for the first time. He was dashing, there was no doubt that the Weasley’s had impeccable genes. He seemed to have gotten a haircut over Christmas break, as it wasn’t as long as she preferred it. He kept flexing his fingers around his wand, and Elara wore a smile as she imagined those same skilled fingers wrapped around her throat.

“You didn’t think I would forget our engagement tonight, did you?” Elara came out from the shadow of the stairwell, smirking when Fred jumped.

“Well, it’s bloody past midnight, innit?” scoffed Fred, stilling his pacing and crossing his arms.

Elara walked into the room slowly, glancing around the tower and keeping her tone light. “You just said around midnight. I don’t recall you specifying what exact time you wanted me here.”

“Next time I’ll be more clear, then.” Fred took on the same tone she had, and he smirked back at her when her eyes narrowed at him.

“Who said there’s a next time?” quipped Elara, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall farthest from Fred.

“Oh darling, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me for more.”

With that rather bold statement, Fred walked over to Elara who watched him appraisingly.

“I rather doubt that, Weasley.”

Fred harshly placed his arms on either side of Elara’s body, his body heat warming her. “Beautiful, if you could just shut that pretty little mouth of yours, you wouldn’t piss me off so much.”

Elara raised an eyebrow, slightly embarrassed that she could already feel wetness between her legs. “Where’s the fun in that, Weasel?”

Fred slammed his lips against hers then, and Elara snaked her arms around his neck. His lips felt like fire against hers, spreading a heat through her body as quickly as a brushfire. His hands ghosted down her waist, sliding behind her hips to grip her bum. Elara bit down on Fred’s lip, harshly dragging his lower lip through her teeth, and Fred moaned audibly, slapping her bum with one hand while the other squeezed harshly.

He trailed his lips down her neck, nipping softly at the skin he had lusted over for so long, dusting kisses across her collarbones. His teeth grazed her skin, making her shiver and let out a moan against her will.

“That’s it darling, be loud for daddy.” encouraged Fred softly, his hands ghosting her inner thighs.

Elara’s breath caught in her throat, and she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. She would be damned if she called Fred Weasley daddy.

“Do you want me to touch you, love?” asked Fred, moving his hands up to unbutton her shirt. It fell to the ground, and Fred stared at her creamy breasts hidden from him with a lace bra that seemed to be teasing him.

“Yes.” Elara was breathless, almost embarrassed at how desperately she wanted him to touch her.

“Yes, what?” Fred kissed her jaw, his hands moving down to play with the hem of her skirt.

She knew he wasn’t going to go further until she said it. “Yes, daddy.”

Fred grinned at her then, and her skirt came down along with her fishnets. He knelt down, pressing sloppy kisses to her thighs as he forced them open. Elara’s legs grew weak, something Fred took notice of.

“Lay down, love.” with a wave of his wand, Fred had conjured up a soft blanket for them to lay on. Elara sat down, before Fred had pushed her down to continue his onslaught against her cunt.

Once again forcing her thighs open, he snapped the waistband of her panties. “Darling, I appreciate the thought you put into these, but next time, come ready for me, alright?”

He tugged off her panties without waiting for a response, and then ran his hand across her bare pussy. Elara gasped, bucking her hips up, and Fred laughed.

“You look delicious,” Fred ducked down, his breath fanning across her delicate skin. “Good enough to eat.”

He gave her a teasing lick, and again Elara’s hips bucked up on their own accord. Fred placed a large hand on her lower stomach, holding her in place. His other hand held her legs open as he licked and sucked her clit, his tongue sliding in and out of her pussy. Without warning, his mouth left her, and his fingers replaced the warmth of his tongue. First it was one, and then he slowly added another, curling his fingers as he made eye contact with her.

“Fuck,” Elara whimpered, pleasure flooding her body. It was almost too much for her to deal with, the way Fred Weasley was going down on her.

He increased his speed, and Elara arched her back, moaning loudly when he began nipping at her hips, sucking on the soft skin and placing harsh kisses as his fingers pumped faster and faster inside of her. He placed his mouth on her clit, keeping the fast pace with his fingers, and Elara gripped the blanket as a stream of moans left her mouth.

She could feel herself getting close, a coil in her stomach as Fred kept sucking on her clit. As she felt herself nearing the edge, her legs clenching around Fred’s head as she was about to cum, he suddenly pulled away, giving her a cheeky grin with lust filled eyes.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” Elara asked breathlessly, brushing away at the strands of hair that stuck to her forehead.

“Darling, if you want to finish, you’re going to need to beg daddy.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

Fred trailed kisses up her stomach, skillfully reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts free, Fred took a hard nipple in his mouth, the other one he explored with his hand.

“Bite me,” Elara said breathlessly, bucking her hips up to the erection that was pressed against her bare pussy. “Bite me daddy.”

She felt Fred smile rather than saw him, and let out a loud moan as Fred Weasley bit down on her hard nipple, pinching the other one with his fingers. He started grinding his hips into hers as he bit and sucked at her tits, and Elara once again had to grip the blanket in her hands.

“Please, daddy,” Elara gave in, running her nails down Fred’s back. “Make me cum.”

Fred paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. He gave her a quick grin, before quickly ducking back down to suck at her clit again. Once again, the familiar feeling was building up in her lower stomach, and as Fred pumped his fingers in her pussy and his lips sucked on her bundle of nerves, she finally found release, her legs shaking as she came on Fred Weasley’s face.

“You taste so sweet,” his voice was low, his tone cocky. “Now, my turn.”

Fred slipped his boxers off, and the bare skin of his hard dick brushed against her pussy as he teased her entrance with his head. Elara dragged her nails down his back, and Fred thrusted into her with a groan and made Elara gasp as he began pumping in her.

He spread her legs to the side, resting each hand on either inner thigh, causing him to stroke deeply within her. He went softly at first, letting Elara adjust to his massive size, and then began thrusting his hips deep inside her faster and faster. He soon moved his arms on either side of Elara, and she wrapped legs around his waist.

“Fuck, Elara, you feel so damn good around my dick.” Fred moaned out, burrowing his head into her neck.

“Choke me.” said Elara in reply, letting out a moan as Fred hit a new spot inside of her.

Fred complied, much to her surprise. He wrapped one hand around her throat, squeezing harshly, the other hand propping himself up. The force of his thrusting made her tits bounce, and Elara parted her mouth in a silent moan as Fred’s fingers clenched around her esophagus.

His thrusting became more sloppy, and she knew he was close to coming. Elara could once again feel the build up in her lower stomach, and she knew she was going to cum once more.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum.” the words came out a moan, and Fred pressed a harsh kiss to her neck as he picked up his pace once more.

Her walls clenched around him, and his name fell from her lips as her toes curled and her vision went white. She felt his dick twitch before he came inside her with a loud moan, pulling out his dick and laying next to her on the blanket.

Elara kept her eyes shut, feeling the odd sensation of her pussy twitching. It had been her first time, and it had been with a Weasley.

After a moment, Fred propped himself up next to her, looking down at her still form. He admired her naked body, committing it to memory for later when he would be alone and drawing the way she looked as he made her orgasm.

“You could stop staring anytime now.” Elara remarked lightly, her eyes still shut.

“You’re gorgeous.” replied Fred, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple.

Elara opened her eyes then, shoving Fred away from her and standing. “Alright, that’s my cue to leave. This was fun, trust me, but I really ought to be going.”

“What, you’re just going to leave?” Fred protested, tugging on his boxers as he got up. He kept his eyes on hers as she quickly redressed herself.

“We just needed to get that,” she waved her hands. “Out of our system. Now, we can go back to our separate worlds.”

Fred shook his head, grabbing her hands as she was doing the last button on her blouse. “Elara, we can’t just go back to quietly fancying each other after that.”

Elara’s eyes flashed, and she yanked her hands out of Fred’s grasp. “Watch me.”

Elara tugged her robe on, and after making sure her wand was tucked away, she stormed out of the astronomy tower, leaving Fred Weasley standing alone.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley imagine #fred #weasley #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x malfoy older sister #fred x elara #elara malfoy #older malfoy sister #fred weasley smut #harry potter #hp smut #weasley smut #fred x oc smut #fred weasley x oc smut #smut #malfoy smut

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heartfeltheart · 4 years

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Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science

Chapters: 24/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)

Edward couldn't help it, he started to grin at the turn out for the Battle Royal. Each of his thirteen students had brought along the maximum of students they were required to bring along. On top of that, each of the Heads of Houses brought along a couple of their own students to watch the show. There are several individuals in the empty field looking on with disbelief. 'Ah... the non-believers... we'll see by the end of the day if they are still non-believers.'

"It appears we'll have more spectators..." Roy stated to Edward with a slight smirk on his lips. He glanced over at the castle to see students piling over each other to peek at the windows and others actually are at the courtyard away from the scene but not close enough to fully see. "Wanting a sneak peek of what true alchemy is like..."

"They're curious and the fact rumor travels extremely fast here." Edward waved him off. "Is everyone ready?"

"The Ministry Officials are here and ready to critique us every step of the way." Roy responded with a shrug, he pulled out his ignition gloves with a heavy feeling falling over him. "I take it they don't know about you, Alphonse and myself?"

"None of them know and they don't have the knowledge to take note of it. If they do take note of it... distract them and pull their attention elsewhere." Edward stated as he rolled his shoulders to release some tension. "It makes things far more fun to mess with them."

"True... true..." Roy snorted, he put on his gloves, he then smirked at the former Alchemist when he saw his future opponents wave at him from the other side of the field. "How about we get this show on the road?"

"Alright... Get ready with Al to create the stands, if they want a show, might as well make it one." Edward grinned, he clapped his hands together and somewhere out there... something grinned manically at the consequences of that day.

-.-

The moment Alphonse Elric and Roy Mustang created a mini arena, mainly creating a couple of stands for the spectators and a couple of obstacles, mainly boulders with varying sizes. In all, it looked like a very tempting fight to see for the Magical Community that are given front row seats. The eight students that have previously watched a fight between Alchemists are giddy with excitement. This is going to be amazing!

The entire arena went quiet when General Mustang stood in the middle of the arena. "Welcome, welcome! Welcome to the Battle Royal! A battle to the death!"

"General!"

Roy flinched at the glare that Riza sent his way from her spot in the stands. He laughed nervously and coughed into his gloved hand to regain his composure. "Anyway... We were invited to your lovely...haunted... school! Mr. Edward Elric, Headmaster Dumbledore along with Emperor Ling and myself, have decided to create this little show... To showcase not only Alchemy but showcase what Amestris and Xing have to offer. Alphonse Elric, Mei Chang, Scar, myself, Emperor Ling and the Emperor's top bodyguard Lan Fan will be battling each other in last one standing match. Do not blink or you might miss the entire show..."

Edward snorted when he saw Roy snapped his fingers and flames flew up toward the sky causing everyone in the crowd to look on in awe. Just a snap of his fingers and he already has the crowd eating out of his hand. Clever. Very clever.

-.-

No one knew how to describe what is occurring down in the arena floor. Many of them had seemed fights, magical and non-magical alike. But this... This just takes the cake in so many levels to the point it makes many wonders... are they holding back? Yes. Judging by the fact how Mr. Elric only liked mildly impressed or scoffed at the many close class that is occurring down below.

The audible sounds of snaps ringing out throughout the arena which quickly followed by a massive burst of flame. Bright light engulfing the area which was quickly followed by destruction none had ever seen before. What seemed to take the cake for everyone is the fact two of the opponents that showed no Alchemical skill are at the same level as the others. The only things that they had on them are short blades, bombs and... is that a metal arm?

Yeah... that's a metal arm that is shooting out bombs...

-.-

Pale, terrifying and expressions filled with alarm at what is occurring in front of the Ministry Officials. They had anticipated something simple and complete laughing stock in all their opinions. That thought process grew when Emperor Ling and Princess Mei decided to join this Battle Royal. The moment the battle started... they began to wonder... Who the bloody hell are these... PEOPLE! If that is what you want to call them. They aren't even human, how could a simple human do all of that! That is completely impossible. How are they able to jump that high? Dodging at such speeds?

And by Merlin's beard! The only one that appeared to not be in shock by what is occurring down there is Mr. Colonel Edward Elric. The young man is actual calmly answering questions that were shot his way about the battle. If anything, he isn't treating this as a form of entertainment, but an actual life lesson.

"General Mustang control is meticulous..."

"Miss. Chang abilities primarily focus on healing or long range form."

"Alphonse, well-rounded. Prefers hand to hand combat of using staffs as a primary weapon."

"Mr. Scar... run. Just run."

"Emperor Ling... get food to distract him. You might get a chance."

"Lan Fan? Hand to a hand specialist, you mess with the Emperor, then you better watch out."

The whole situation is absurd to the point they are at complete disbelief. As much as they want to deny, deny, and deny, they cannot deny this. How could they? The Student-Faculty of Hogwarts is here as witnesses to this, along with a good handful of professors. Here's the kicker, if they deny this then both Amestris and Xing will call them out and the repercussions of that... only makes them shudder.

Then... there's the few within the group that are watching, the wheels in their mind spinning a thousand miles a minute. There are so many possibilities, so many future possibilities and opportunities that could occur if the dealings between all three counties are done. Of course, all dealings in their favor. Imagine it? Witches and Wizards able to do such feats, to have an army of them with such power? It is so close, they could just reach over and take it for themselves.

What really caught everyone's attention and fact, is that the Emperor of Xing had brought along the Amestrians as bodyguards. It is obvious by the fight down below... he appears far more capable of taking care of himself.

-.-

The moment the Battle Royal came to an end, the crowd roared out their approval of the fight. It is by far the most remarkable event many of them had ever seen. If this is what Alchemy had to offer, then they want to know more, learn what exactly what the true meaning of Alchemy is like. Too bad for many that dream will sink or sail for many the moment the Alchemy Teacher stood up and down to the arena floor.

"Well... Did that exceed all of your expectations?"

-.-

All throughout Hogwarts, the students rambled on and on about the Battle Royal. No one could stop gossiping on said subject. It was so unbelievable to many and if it weren't for the fact that so many students and professors had laid witness to it, disbelief would be the emotion many would have. But no, everything is true... except for adding a few more details here and there. Just to make it all more exciting for the listener.

"Was that what you saw over at Amestris, Terrance?" Fred and George asked their older classmate.

"Similarly, what we saw is General Mustang and a Major Armstrong. Even if it was of a smaller scale to the Battle Royal, it was still rather epic to watch." Terrance grinned at the twins as the three of them headed over towards the Great Hall for dinner. "Even what we saw, it is still on a small scale. All of them were holding back or were not in their element to showcase their abilities to the fullest. It's amazing..."

"Do you believe..."

"We could do that one day?"

"Maybe...if we continue with our learning and possible training." Terrance replied honestly, not fully knowing the answer to their question himself. "Dr. Marcoh told us back in Amestris that there are different branches of science and that is the same with Alchemy. General Mustang specializes in fire, Major Armstrong mixes alchemical skill with physical power, and along with that, he told us he knew a couple of individuals that dealt created metals, weapons, explosions and let's not forget Miss. Mei is s Alkahestric. Alkahestry performs a higher medical transmutation than Amestrian Alchemy and is able to perform it in long distances, unlike Amestrian Alchemy. There are many forms of alchemy which one would choose to study and perform."

"I want to make things go boom..."

"Very big boom..."

"Wait...?"

"What about Mr. Scar?"

"Er... I... don't know? I heard someone else asked Mr. Elric about and he got all quiet about it..."

-.-

"Wait... You guys are also going to have Alphonse teach here?" Edward asked, taken aback by what was being told to him. He is sitting behind his desk with a cup of hot tea and a plate of food on his desk. The Mustang Unit, Scar, Dr. Marcoh, Ling, Lan Fan, Mei, Alphonse along with Severus and Filius are sitting around the classroom with their dinner. Everyone who could speak English spoke the language for Edward's new friends. Well, here and there. Some information is better left incomprehensible. "Who made this up?"

"The moment the Ministry Officials saw Alphonse perform alchemy, they wanted him to become the 'Alchemy Professor'." Roy snorted into his own cup of steaming hot tea. "They wanted to replace you with your brother. Fortunately, with Dumbledore's help, we convinced them that won't be necessary. I won't bore you with the details right now, the end result is having you and Alphonse alternate years."

"And what the hell should I do during that free year?" Edward asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Congratulations, we promoted you to be an Ambassador of Amestris. You'll be the go-between Magical Great Britain and Amestris. While your brother will also be a go-between for them and Xing, depending on the situation." Roy laughed at Edward's expression of complete horror. He scooped up a spoonful of mash potatoes and pointed it at Edward. "Don't worry too much on it. You won't be permanently stationed here, just mostly traveling back and forth once every other couple of months or whenever your presence is needed."

"Good, he might get a little stir-crazy..."

"Shut up, Severus."

"Making a very plausible point."

"Shut up..." Edward retorted glumly in defeat while placing down his cup of tea on his table. He ran a hand through his hair. He looked pensive over what was just said to him, the Alchemy Teacher needed to think this through with Winry. It is no longer himself anymore, the moment he asked Winry to marry him, everything changed. Even if he is here being what he became, was something that was sort of planned. A year to travel west to study Alchemy. Well... he isn't exactly studying alchemy... he's teaching it. Traveling? Nope... Ugh... "I need to talk to Winry about this... We still need to set a date on the wedding and this is..."

"Don't worry about it, we are still ironing out the kinks to this." Riza assured him.

"I am scared how Winry will react to this..."

"Don't worry about it, we told her before we told you of this." Roy grinned at the Colonel.

Fortunately for Edward, he had finished his drink otherwise it would have spilled all over his ungraded classwork. "WHAT! What the fuck did you tell her!"

Severus and Filius shifted their gazes back and forth between Edward and Roy growing argument. Knowing Edward for this long, they knew it would be pointless intervening in the argument. They would get pulled into it and it will not end well. Especially with how Ms. Hawkeye is slowly edging towards them. They began to wonder how normal this is for everyone in this room.

-.-

Edward laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling deep in thought. So many things had occurred to him during the week that his friends arrived at Hogwarts and left since then. Heck, many more the moment he became a teacher and that made his mind go a thousand miles a minute. So much has changed for him the last year or so.

Where to go from there? What else could he do? Traveling seems... not something that seemed to appeal now. He traveled all throughout Amestris with a purpose of finding a way to get his and Alphonse bodies back. He got Alphonse's body back while he got his own arm back. The main reason for going west to look for Alchemy was...

Pause.

Edward blinked slowly at a realization that suddenly struck him. He doesn't remember the exact reason he decided to travel west. Sure, to possibly learn more aspects on Alchemy and now thinking back on it. The main reason he went on this trip was that Alphonse mentioned he wanted to go East... by himself... on his own trip... This is an adventure that he went on his own and this is different. Very different. The excitement is nearly gone. Sure, there is an excitement in seeing others getting so psyched up in learning alchemy, it was like seeing himself and Alphonse in all his students. It's an honor to teach but this wasn't something he never saw himself doing. Now here he is and seeing how the situation is like, this is something that he wants to do to need to do. He needs to ensure that Alchemy is standing true and ensure that Truth will not play its games. Then again... Edward wouldn't be surprised if that thing is already pulling all the strings.

Not only that... Edward has plans on turning another government on its head and it will be one hell of a ride. With a grin reminiscent of a white figure, Edward turned off the light and allowed his mind to wander off to sleep.

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#Alchemy Series #Magic vs Science #Chapter 24 #FMA #FMAB #HP #HP/FMA #HP/FMAB #AU #Crossover

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that-one-guy-that-loves-whump · 5 years

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Missing and Presumed Dead

Alrighty! I gave myself another prompt and made this whumpy fic for you all! Just a reminder that requests are open and I’m trying to post fics more regularly! You can request some prompts here! Anyway, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

“Retreat! Retreat!” The frantic voice of General Charles Lee was barely audible over the sounds of gunfire, but Hamilton had the sense to run anyway. He swiftly lifted himself onto his horse, digging his heels into its side as it galloped away from where the British were streaming in steadily, attacking his men. He noticed the General on his horse as well, a while away from him. He was being pursued by an overwhelming number of redcoats, screaming like a maniac. Hamilton grunted as his horse stumbled a bit, looking over his shoulder at a few of his men who had the sense to follow him. They fanned out until they were beside him, yelling things into the wind that he couldn’t hear. He also saw a terrifying amount of British soldiers chasing his own steed and he whipped the reins, hoping to make his horse run a little faster.

Charles took a sharp turn, his horse disappearing from Alex’s view. He watched one of his men slip off his horse lifelessly and he held back a cry. The soldiers that had been chasing Lee seemed to lose sight of him as well, instead opting to chase after Alexander as his men darted away from him to follow Charles. He gulped and lowered himself so he was clutching his stallion tighter, ponytail whipping in the wind as bullets whisked by his head, far too close for comfort.

They had been on a mission in Philadelphia, destroying the British supplies before they could reach them. They were about to burn the mill at the village of Valley Forde when they heard warning shots. Before they knew it, they were being chased by British troops, horribly outnumbered. Now, Charles and a few of his men had already reached safety, leaving all the redcoats to chase Hamilton. He saw a river up ahead, slightly obscured by a few trees, and he raced towards it, wincing as a bullet scraped his leg. He grit his teeth as he drew closer to the water, not even thinking about what he would do when he actually got there. All he knew was that he needed to get away from the redcoats, who were getting worryingly close now.

Suddenly, his horse fell, having been shot from under him. He screamed and tumbled to the ground, rolling a little before scrambling to his feet and taking off, running towards the river as fast as he could. He could hear the thundering of the British behind him getting closer….closer…

He yelled out, falling to the ground as a bright, blinding pain flashed in his calf, quickly followed by a similar one to his shoulder. He was shot. He had to run before he bled out. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the searing pain in his leg and shoulder as he half ran, half limped to the edge of the river, stumbling every now and then. He cast a glance behind him; The British were mere yards away. He noticed a few of his men a ways away as well, watching in terror, hidden from the redcoats. He gasped and looked towards the water, fear and pain trying to stop him as he sprinted. He ran to the very edge, ignoring the current that threatened him below. He threw himself forward, splashing in the river, his shoulder hitting a sharp stone. He instinctively screamed out in agony, water filling his mouth, nose, eyes, making everything burn and god he just wanted it to stop. As he inhaled what seemed like the whole river, being thrown around by the current in the process, he lost sight of the British, his men, the whole world. Everything. His vision got darker and darker until there was nothing but pain. He closed his eyes and let it overtake him.

Washington had been in his study when he heard it. He was sorting through his papers, casting sidelong glances at Hamilton’s desk. He had sent the boy on a mission to Philidelphia, along with Lee and a few footsoldiers. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss the boy while he was away.

The truth is, he hadn’t even wanted the boy to go. He knew it was dangerous, but Alexander had argued until he eventually relented, sighing. He remembered giving the boy a small pat on the shoulder and a hair ruffle as a goodbye, the two not yet on hugging terms despite George’s feelings for his aide.

Now, he flinched at the sound of commotion coming from the center of the camp, getting up with an irritated sigh. If Laurens has gotten himself into a fight again I swear to God…

When he exited his tent, what he saw instead made him freeze. Charles Lee and some of the footsoldiers he had sent on the mission were standing in the center of the camp, surrounded by soldiers questioning them about what happened. Lee looked terrified, his gaze traveling all over the place as he looked at all the soldiers, not answering a single one.

“Enough!” His voice was commanding and booming, making everyone stop mid-question and stare at him with wide eyes. Washington rushed over, shoving the soldiers away from Lee as he searched the crowd frantically. His heart leaped in terror when he didn’t see a familiar face among them. He grabbed Charles by the shoulders, his grip gentle but stern as he looked into the eyes of his panicking General.

“Lee, where is Hamilton?” He hated the way his voice broke, his heart shattering at the sudden solemn look his General took on.

“S-sir I’m sorry…” Charles spoke, his voice timid and apologetic. “The British chased us--chased him--t-they chased him to the river and shot his horse. He was forced to jump a-and….we--I--think he...he drowned..” Lee’s breath caught and Washington felt tears welling up in his eyes. No. No no no no no no no no this can’t be happening. Not him. Not Alexander.

“N-no” The word fell from his lips in a whisper, a quiet plea too low for anyone else to hear. He shook his head, trying to make himself look tougher than he felt. “I see. Go to the infirmary immediately, you and your men require medical attention. I am deeply sorry for him and all the other soldiers that were lost in this battle. Men, resume your daily activities. I will be in my study if I am needed”

He dismissed the gathered soldiers with a wave of his hand, his heart heavy. He turned, keeping his head high until he was safely in the confines of his study. He shut the door behind him with a soft click before going over to his cabinet and gingerly selecting a bottle of ale. He poured himself a glass and sat down at his desk, covering his face with his hands in despair as he let himself brake.

Tears were streaming from his eyes in seconds, his heart cracking in his chest when he looked up and saw Alexander’s unoccupied desk. He closed his eyes and let the memories of his boy wash over him as he took a few sips of his ale.

“Alexander, you look as though you’ll fall asleep any moment” George had laughed, getting up from his desk to stand beside Alex as the boy hunched over his work, the bags under his eyes a dark purple. He hummed as an answer, focused on writing whatever it was that laid between his hand and the wood. Washington had sighed as his boy’s blinks became longer and longer.

He gently removed the poor quill from Hamilton’s grip, placing it in his inkwell. Alexander didn’t even seem to notice as George then moved the paper out from under him. The general smiled softly as Alex let his head fall onto his arms, leaning over on the desk. There was no way that was comfortable. He looked at his already fast asleep son and his smile grew. There was no way he was waking him now. He grabbed a soft sheet from one of his cabinets and draped it over the boy to keep him warm. Washington moved a strand of hair out of his son’s face, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he looked at his boy. He pressed a soft kiss to Hamilton’s forehead before he exited for the night, a smile still present on his lips.

Now, George was really sobbing. His shoulders shook with each cry, his heart battered in his chest. He downed the ale and poured more, wanting nothing more than to be lost for a few hours; to not have to think about the fact that he would never see his son again. Oh, God…

He didn’t know how long it had been as he downed more ale than he probably should have. His sobs had died down to whimpers long ago, leaving a broken shell of a once proud general. A quiet knock on his door made him flinch. George got up slowly, praying that his face wasn’t all red, trying not to look at Alexander��s desk, and opened the door, surprised at who he was met with.

“Your Excellency?”

“What do you need?”

“I know that you and le petit lion were close. I thought that I should ask you. We are raising glasses in the lost soldiers’ honor. Would you care to join us?” Lafayette’s face was one of pity and loss. He was his friend. George realized with a pang. The sky outside was black, the moonlight dappling onto the two men.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be there in a moment” Lafayette nodded and turned, heading back towards his tent. Laf, Hercules, Aaron, John, and Alex used to share a tent. Used to.

George braced himself and cast one last look at Alexander’s desk before he followed behind his soldier. He ignored the looks he got from some of his soldiers that weren’t raising glasses. He ignored the whispers. He couldn’t ignore the weight on his heart. He entered the tent, the candlelight making him pause for a moment as his eyes adjusted. Hercules, Lafayette, John, Aaron, and many other men were gathered around a table, some standing, some sitting. Burr smiled at him in pity and gestured to an empty chair beside him. Washington sat beside him, nodding thanks.

“They will not be forgotten!” A man had been talking, recalling memories of his friend. Everyone cheered and John stood, waiting until everyone had calmed down before raising his glass.

“Hamilton was a very close friend of mine. I remember one night when we were all drunk off our asses-”

“I was not!” Burr chimed in, making John roll his eyes.

“-and we tried to get him to sing with us. I ended up accidentally slapping him and he was the one who apologized. He would spend countless nights awake, hunched over his desk writing determinedly to his wife, Eliza. In fact, I’m sure I’ve seen him writing to all three Schuyler sisters!” Everyone laughed but it was hollow, George could tell. Laurens was trying not to cry, his voice wavering with each sentence.

“What I’m trying to say is...He didn’t deserve this. None of these men did. I hope they find happiness in their next adventure” Laurens finished, tears slipping down his face. Hercules got to his feet as John sat, gratefully accepting a tissue from Lafayette.

“To freedom!” Hercules raised his glass, followed by everyone who held a drink. “Let their sacrifices not be in vain!”

George was about to say something when the sound of heavy footsteps stumbling into the tent caught everyone’s attention, making them turn. Washington gasped, heart leaping to his throat. Because there, alive and breathing, was Alexander. He was sopping wet, his ponytail flat against the back of his neck. The general leaped out of his chair, running to the boy. Hamilton let a tearful smile cross his face as his legs buckled beneath him. George caught him before he hit the ground, cradling the boy to his chest. He heard the sound of commotion behind him but he didn’t care. He only cared about his violently shivering aide. He looked the boy over, sick at the sight of so much blood. The boy’s lips and fingertips were blue and his eyes were glazed as he sobbed weakly into Washington’s chest, realizing that he was finally safe.

He held the boy close to his chest, barely registering the tears that trailed down his own face as he just held his son. He had truly thought he lost him. His heart twisted painfully in his chest as his boy broke down in his arms, the blood flowing from his wounds not slowing in the slightest. Washington was vaguely aware of people crowding around him, trying to take Hamilton from him. He clutched the boy tighter, not yet willing to let him go again.

“Sir! Please, you have to let go of him so that the medic can help!” That was Burr. Strange. He was not usually one to show signs of panic. George looked up, tears making his vision foggy. He saw the kind and concerned eyes of Aaron and he shifted a little so that he was facing the other man. “I know you must be overwhelmed right now but he will die if you don’t let the doctor help him. Please, it’s alright, General”

Washington managed a small nod, letting Burr gently lift Alex from his arms as the medic ushered him towards the infirmary. George followed close behind, watching Alexander whimper and flinch at every jostle to his shoulder, gasping as his calf brushed against someone. Then, suddenly, he stopped. The boy went lax in Burr’s grip, eyes rolling back in his head, and Washington almost missed the look of absolute terror in Aaron’s eyes.

“NO! NO! SAVE HIM! HELP HIM! DON’T YOU DARE LET HIM DIE!” George screamed through tears, reaching towards the medic and the panicking soldier, barely being held back by Lafayette and Hercules. He watched helplessly as they carried his son to the infirmary. Washington sunk to his knees as Lafayette sat beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder and murmuring words of comfort. Soon enough, John and Herc were sitting with him as well, all four with tears in their eyes. Washington buried his head in his hands as he broke down, his sobs heard throughout the camp. He didn’t know how long he sat there, his soldier’s trying to comfort him as he had a mental breakdown.

He hadn’t even realized that the medic had walked over, making Washington flinch as he looked up at the man. He felt a lump form in his throat as he awaited the news of whether his son was still alive or not. The medic looked at him for a moment as if considering something before smiling gently.

“Lieutenant Hamilton will live, General”

#Washingdad #Hamilton #Whump #Angst #Missing and presumed dead #prompts open #requests open #alexander hamilton #aaron burr #John Laurens #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette #Hercules Mulligan #Charles Lee #george washington #Drowning #kind of #not really

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twopoppies · 6 years

Note

Hello dear, may I ask what fics contain your very very favourite smut of all time? x

Oh boy. Let me preface this with what I always say about smut: what’s hot to me might not be at all hot for you, but I will give you some to choose from and PLEASE READ THE TAGS. OK, first of all, I answered a similar question about a year and a half ago here. So maybe there are some suggestions there for you. Second, just a reminder that IMO these fics have so much more going for them than just the sex scenes. However, you asked for smut and I shall give you some!

Smut, Smut, and More Smut

got my eyes on you by eleadore (E, 2.8K)

Harry’s not supposed to take off his clothes, but it’s one of those unspoken rules, much like don’t have a wank with your best mate and definitely don’t make that a regular thing, fuck, what the fuck.

Go With It by embro (E, 4K)

Prompt: “You thought I was someone else and started making out with me in a club and you’re really hot so I just kinda went with it and now we’re heading back to your place and I don’t know how to break it to you”

use somebody by istajmaal (E, 4K)

Nick put a hand through his hair. “I’m not entirely sure I want it like this,” he said, even though his dick was expressing another opinion entirely. Louis slapped Harry’s arse sharply and smiled as he watched him struggle to scramble onto all fours with his hands tied in front of him. Then he looked back at Nick. “That’s up to you,” he said. “But I think you need to get used to the fact that this is the only way you’ll ever have him.”

or, Louis and Harry invite Nick to a threesome but it’s not what Nick had in mind, exactly.

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson / @horsegirlharry (E, 6K)

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

—

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Only Angel by objectlesson / @horsegirlharry (E, 6K)

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

—

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

my one and own (i wanna get you alone) by beautlouis (E, 6K)

Louis’ favorite thing to do is make Harry come. It’s the best feeling in the world, watching the boy he loves fall apart underneath him; to see how good it feels for Harry, in every line and movement of his body.Louis pushes a thigh between Harry’s and grinds just enough that Harry sighs gently and ruts his hips back into Louis. Holding Harry’s waist firmly, Louis presses his lips into Harry’s ear and says, “I think I’d like to make you come.”

It isn’t as if they don’t both know that’s what tonight is—Louis making Harry come—but the verbal acknowledgment of it makes Harry moan sharply and turn his head to try to pull Louis into a kiss.

Talk Dirty to Me by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite

They were both naked. And that seemed, again, like a catastrophically bad idea, but here they were anyway. Naked. In the dark. Only a few feet apart.

It hadn’t even been a discussion. The minute Harry flipped the lights off, they’d both shucked out of their clothes as if they’d been on fire.

“Alright darling,” Louis said, his hand wrapped loosely around his own cock. “Just remember, start slow. Lots of descriptions. Light on the hygiene, heavy on the compliments. You’ve got this.”

As if Harry were about to compete in some kind of athletic game.__

Or the one where Harry is absolutely terrible at dirty talk so he asks his best friend to teach him. And the one where Louis knows it’s a catastrophically bad idea but agrees anyway.

The World, It’s Turning Inside-Out by aimmyarrowshigh, spibsy (lucy_and_ramona) (E, 15K –– this is part one of a 10-part series which increases in smut and kink as it goes on, total of approx 450K)

The night before the first live show of X Factor’s ninth series, George meets Harry and Louis in a nightclub.

Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 16K)

France, 1754.Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (E, 16K)

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

precious little thing by mercutionotromeo (E, 21K)

Reason #10 - Curiosity

Niall grins deviously and hits “make call”, putting his phone on speaker. They lean in close to peer down at the screen, heads knocking lightly together. Dull rings reverberate quietly around the room and mix with the monotonous buzz of the lights. It rings for a while - maybe six or seven times - then the other line picks up.

There’s a slow, steady inhale, and a low voice purrs, “Hi, sexy.”

Jesus - this guy has barely said two words, and both of them have made Harry’s cock twitch in his jeans. That’s not even getting to what those words are, and why he’s saying them, and how Harry’s stomach is dropping into his shoes at the mere thought of him saying… other words. Words like “cock”, and “please”, and “come”.

Also known as: a university AU featuring phone sex operator Louis, copious amounts of sweet, soft kink discovery, and Louis being Harry’s Daddy.

Yellow by 13ways / @13ways-of-looking (E, 85K)

The city of Gotham turns blood red with a new, mysterious criminal element, a beautiful woman named the Blind Cupid.

She threatens to tear the fabric of the city apart, aided by her deadly protégé, the Cat.

Can Batman stop them?

Will he resist the bewitching allures of the Cat?

A Batman/ Catwoman AU

Lightening Strikes Twice by dinosaursmate / @catfishau (E, 104K)

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry said slowly, shaking his head and betraying a slight grin. “What the fuck are the odds?”“Small world,” Louis said lightly, shrugging and holding his hand out to Harry, smirk playing on his lips. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”“Haha! Please.”Harry slid his palm into Louis’, grasping and shaking it. It must’ve been… what? Thirty years?—Two tales, one story. One: a tale of a rock star taking a shine to a fan who is different from all the others, and two: a tale of an older, washed up rock star, who - on the brink of resigning himself to a life of loneliness - finds fate intervening.

I’m sure I have more, but I hope this gives you some you haven’t read yet!

#my fic rec #larry fic rec #mine #fics with scorching smut #there are some great classic fics with #super hot smut #but i always try to #recommend stuff that may be less well known #Anonymous

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misssophiachase · 6 years

Note

Cristy, I N E E D a drabble, where they are holding hands, where Caroline takes his hand and Klaus is all shook pleaseee pretty please! slay me with your beautiful words

Thanks Madina! Love this prompt, know exactly what inspired it hehe. Consider this my take on the way I want this episode to go. I don’t watch the Originals (yet) and haven’t read any spoilers so this is just something I made up. Hope you like it, luv!.

When theSaints Go Marching In

She isnervous. She taps her feet on the floor at a rapid pace and attempts to calmherself. Is she really here? Is she really doing this? Will he be happy to seeher?

Yes, she’sextremely nervous. But she’s also something else.

CarolineForbes is hopeful. For the first time in her thirty-something life. And it is all because of himand the fact he never gave up on her. On them.

“However longit takes,” he’d murmured before placing a chaste kiss on her cheek after graduation. His solemnbut slightly optimistic look telling her he meant every uttered word. Years later, and after everything they’d experienced in their own lives and briefly together, it’s those observations that were bringing her back. Back to him.

Afterstepping off the plane at Louis Armstrong Airport and making her way via cab tothe French Quarter she is buoyed. The fact that Mardi Gras is well and trulyunderway; flashes of green, purple and gold rushing past the car window in alltheir brilliance only adds to her current mood.

Her cellrings, Caroline noting the caller ID and rolling her eyes. “Finally.” Shemutters while connecting. “Take your sweet time, Rebekah, it’s okay I have nothing better to do today.”

“No surprises there. And not that it’s your business but I’m busy doing my nails,” she drawls, her tone icy as usual. “So sue me, Caroline.” This was the very same person that begged her to save Klaus all those weeks back. How quickly she forgot the gratitude she showered on Caroline as early as last week?

“She’slying,” another voice interrupts. “She’s been sitting on her lazy ass andcomplaining all afternoon as usual, darling.” Caroline rolls her eyes, the Mikaelsonsibling circus in all its Original family glory.

“How manytimes have I told you not to eavesdrop on my conversations, Kol?” She hisses.Caroline can visualise the scene playing out between them without any difficulty. If he wasn’t an Originalvampire, she is certain Kol would be a hot pile of ash right now.

“I have nointerest in your pathetic and mundane conversations, Rebekah, but it’scertainly no fault of mine that your phone is on speaker and…”

“My nailsare still wet…”

“And Icouldn’t help but hear Klaus’ lady friend on the line. Let’s just say myinterest is piqued.” Lady friend? Caroline wants to argue that particular point but she’s on a deadline and her control freak tendencies won’t allow her to deviate from the plan.

“Or I canjust disconnect and you can keep squabbling.” Caroline is frustrated. If she could arrive quietly she would have but she needs to know where he is and unfortunately these two are her only hope. Sad state of affairs in Caroline’s view. “You just enoy hearing your own voices, don’t you?”

“Well, Kol certainly does,” Rebekah scoffs. Caroline hears the sounds of a physical altercation wondering who has attacked whom and whether Rebekah’s nails have survived the ordeal. Hopefully the one currently standing can give her the information she needs.

“Where is Klaus?” She growls in desperation.

“And what do you want with him exactly?”

“To kill him and then dismember the body and bury it in the woods, Rebekah,” she bites out sarcastically knowing that scenario isn’t possible while also unable to control her frustration. The cab driver is now looking at her in the rearview mirror in a mixture of disbelief and shock.

“Now that I would pay to see,” Kol chuckles, she rolls her eyes thinking she’d rather kill those two instead if she could for withholding precious and much needed information.

“Oh, for the love of God just tell me or I’ll text Klaus myself and tell him how difficult you are being.” Yes, she’s obviously desperate but if he loves her as much as he says, then this manoeuvre might be successful. They are both eerily silent, Caroline can tell they are holding a conversation with their eyes. At the same time she has this weird allegiance to smooth things over, they may be related one day after all. “Fine, I’ll give you all the gossip afterwards. I promise.”

“If Niklaus cries, I expect to be the first person you tell.”

Turns out his siblings were Klaroline shippers all along, something she would find out in detail later.

Meanwhile…..

Klaus ismorose, his shoulders hunched as he nurses a whiskey while people celebratearound him at the bar. Even with his impressive, supernatural hearing he’s tuned out their cheering. Klaus enjoys Mardi Gras usually, the city comes alive and theatmosphere electric. This year he isn’t feeling it.

He wants to share it with them.

Both of them.

His daughter.

And the love of his life.

They’re both in Mystic Falls. One due to a horrible curse and the other because she isn’t ready to accept his proposal. Maybe she never will? It is something that haunts him daily.

“However long it takes,” he’d offered, knowing that she was in a different place than him at the time. He’d accepted it of course. That’s what love and devotion was all about. Klaus would wait for her forever and for some reason that was okay back then. Now, he is hopelessly lost and doesn’t know how to move forward. No enemy could scare him as much as the thought of an emotionally desolate future without them.

“So, what’sa girl got to do to get a drink around here?”

Klaus stills, assuming his innermost thoughts have been hacked by some annoyingly, drunk patron. He turns slightly in disbelief, his eyes drinking in her appearance. Clad head to toe in black and sending him one of her insistent Caroline Forbes stares, he knows he’s not dreaming.

She smells heavenly, a mixture of Chanel No 5 and soap. Her golden waves are fanned out over her shoulders as she takes the neighbouring stool. She is breathtaking, and given his supernatural status that is saying something. But why is she here, in his city of all places?

“I think this is where you order me a drink,” she presses. Klaus breaks from his Caroline Forbes trance and signals the bartender.

“You’ll excuse me for being a little surprised by your appearance,” he murmurs, watching as she downs the whiskey in one go. Klaus feels comforted that she seems equally as nervous.

“I hear Mardi Gras is the place to be.” Her gaze is focused straight ahead, her demeanour giving nothing away. For now.

“It is,” he smiles, gesturing to the barman for another round of dutch courage. “But after we last spoke in Mystic Falls I thought…”

“I was rattled yes,” she admits, throwing back the second glass. “And it was wrong to take it out on you but…” He interrupts, if there is something Klaus hates seeing is Caroline upset and all he wants is the truth before too much alcohol is consumed.

“How about a tour of the Quarter?” She regards him curiously, relinquishing the glass. “It’s the least I owe since I promised to show you everything New Orleans has to offer years ago.”

“Did you?” She asks, her left eyebrow cocked.

“You deleted my voice mail?” His tone is higher pitched than he expects. Klaus is hurt his gesture was so callously erased.

“I’m standing in one of my favourite places, surrounded by food, music, art and culture and all I can think about is how much I want to show it to you…” She recites, Klaus freezes not expecting her to have committed his message to memory. But she has and he isn’t quite sure how to respond.

“And then you say…” she’s teasing him now, a wicked grin on her face in an attempt to relieve the tension.

“Maybe one day you’ll let me,” he finishes, his voice barely audible above a whisper. This is the moment he’s dreamed about since he first laid eyes on Caroline Forbes and he’s elated.

“As you can tell my expectations of your tour guide abilities are very high,” she grins, her blue eyes dancing happily.

They leave, Klaus feels dizzy in her presence but he’s not about to let this moment pass. They walk the busy streets, he’s drunk. Not on the whiskey but on the feeling that maybe this is finally it. Maybe the evil and tortured hybrid may get a happy ending?

“So, generally tour guides talk a bit more,” she offers playfully. Klaus gives her a look before steering her towards a local artist, one of his favourites as she discovers later. His hand squeezes her arm and he leaves it there unable to extract. She doesn’t seem bothered, in fact she is leaning into him. Klaus has never felt so much happiness than at this moment.

“George is a visual storyteller,” he explains. She looks at him curiously, a smile gracing those tempting, pink lips. “While other artists paint the local scenery, he asks about favourite memories. Then he paints people’s lives and their stories for future posterity.”

The confusion is evident on her face before he leads her towards his artwork that has been obscured so far. She is moved, the scene he’s portrayed in front of her eerily familiar. “The night of the Mikaelson Ball,” she manages to get out but just barely.

“If you only knew,” he murmurs. The picture is perfectly reminiscent of that evening, Caroline standing in front of his painting, perfectly stunning in that blue dress Klaus had gifted her. “This picture sums up everything for me, which is why I asked George to capture this exact moment.”

Her interest is piqued, her blue eyes boring into his earnestly now. “Why?”

“Art is one of my greatest loves, has been for over a thousand years,” he admits. “I love the way it captures my imagination, the way it evokes feelings, the way it makes me feel better even if I’m full of anger and torment. On that very night I was surrounded by all that artistic beauty but all I could stare at was you, love.”

She’s struggling to speak now, his words may scare her but at the same time he senses that this is the right time to share those particular feelings.

“So, why now and here?”

“Our journey has come full circle,” he says, his hand now tracing her arm slowly with his thumb. “I was looking at art that inspired me then and today I am looking at art that inspires me now because you are my muse, Caroline Forbes.”

Her eyes are closed now but her mouth curves into a happy but knowing smile. “You knew I was here, didn't you? That surprise act earlier was truly Oscar worthy. Is there anything your minions don’t know about my whereabouts?”

“No,” he smiles. “But I sensed your presence as soon as you landed.”

“Stalker much?”

“Are you complaining, love?” He chuckles, his arm finding its way around her back comfortingly.

“I’ll let you know,” she replies gruffly, melting into him and Klaus is suddenly wishing the street wasn’t filled with so many people.

“So, you came back just to tease me?” He murmurs, running his hands through her golden waves.

“No,” she answers simply, confusing him briefly. “I have a surprise for you actually.” Before he can reply, her hand threads through his and she pulls him away mysteriously.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought you might like to see someone you’ve been missing a while, consider it my gift for taking so long to come to my senses,” she jokes.

This was the day father and daughter finally reunited (Klaus amazed that she’d managed to sneak in Hope without his minions’ knowledge). It was also the day his dreams finally came true. Always and Forever.

On FF HERE

#thanks marina luv #awesome prompt #arrenemris #klaroline drabbles #when the saints go marching in

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historyrepeatsitself-phff · 7 years

Text

Chapter Eighty

A/N: Thank you all for being so complementary about the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one and, as ever, let me know what you think 😊 I always love and appreciate hearing from you 💖

Also I feel like it’s a good time to remind you all that I DON’T KNOW THE ROYALS, so please don’t think that any of them are like this in real life. I expect some of you can guess why I’m saying this. I adore all the royals!! Some of them in the story are portrayed in certain ways just to make it interesting 😚

Emmy was not happy to learn that William and Kate had been on holiday. She was annoyed, she felt slightly betrayed and also foolish to have just run to their aid.

It didn’t take long, however, for her to get over it. By the end of the following day, after spending its entirety curled up with Harry and Grace on the sofa, Emmy felt a lot calmer and a lot better about the whole situation. She went to sleep easily, no longer bothered about it. It was in the past, what was the point of fretting about it?

But the next day, with Harry helping soldiers at Sandhurst, Emmy’s lack of anger quickly dissolved into nerves. They were heading to Buckingham Palace that evening for a meal to celebrate Eugenie’s birthday later that week, and that would mean seeing Kate for the first time since all this chaos had started. Emmy wondered how Kate would be to her – after all, it wasn’t her fault that people were dissing her for going on holiday again – and she hoped that Kate wouldn’t blame her at all.

She couldn’t help thinking back to Grace’s christening, however, when she had overheard Kate complaining about being compared to Emmy. If Kate hated it back then, what would she say now after a week of being criticised for not being good enough?

Emmy was dressing Grace when Harry got home, and she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t even hear him arrive until he’d entered the nursery, creeping up on her and making her jump in surprise. Grace giggled, beaming at her Daddy.

“Hello baby!” Harry sang, scooping a half-dressed Grace into his arms. Emmy, hand still over her panicked heart, managed a smile. “Hello baby,” he said to her too, grinning and bending down to kiss her. “You okay?”

“Hmm, sorry, I was just…lost in my thoughts,” she admitted sheepishly, running a hand through her hair.

His blue eyes were curious and concerned as they examined her face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Emmy sighed, taking Grace back and continuing to dress her – although now she was excited to see Daddy and made her job a hundred times harder by squirming. “Just worried about how Kate’s going to be.”

Harry didn’t answer – he was relieved that Emmy’s anger towards his brother and sister-in-law had quickly dissipated, giving way to worry about how Kate would be feeling. It was difficult for him – on one hand, he was in no position to criticise Kate’s work ethic, and he also didn’t want her to be upset by all these criticisms, but on the other hand he was so proud of how Emmy was doing that it was difficult not to class Kate as the lesser Duchess.

“I just hope she doesn’t hate me,” Emmy admitted.

“She won’t, it’s not your fault,” he answered, absently undoing his tie.

“How was today?”

“Eh, okay.” He shrugged, then smirked. “Would’ve much rather had a repeat of yesterday.” When Grace had been asleep in her nursery the previous day, Harry and Emmy had stayed down on the sofa and spent some quality time not-talking.

“I would’ve much rather had a repeat of last night, tonight,” Emmy quipped. The previous night they’d fallen asleep very late after spending some quality time not-sleeping.

“You don’t want to see my family?” he teased, tipping his head to the side.

“You know how nervous they make me,” she said. “Let alone when I’ve also got your murderous sister-in-law on my case.”

“Oh, Kate’s murderous now, is she?”

“Probably,” Emmy said.

“Kate’ll be fine, stop worrying about her,” Harry said, throwing her a smile.

Famous last words.

They entered one of the drawing rooms in Buckingham Palace to greetings from everyone there, and Emmy couldn’t help but feel a shudder of nerves go through her. No matter how often she saw them, there was still something terrifying about seeing all of Harry’s family together.

But that was nothing compared to the look on Kate’s face. Emmy’s eyes flitted instantly to her sister-in-law, hoping to see a kind smile or something to indicate that she wasn’t furious, and as members of the family came over to greet them, all she saw was dislike written on Kate’s face. Kate met her gaze evenly, made no attempt to smile, and then simply turned back to Camilla and continued talking. Emmy felt her stomach drop.

She looked at Harry, hoping he would’ve noticed Kate’s reaction, but he was too busy cuddling George and Charlotte to have seen anything. And before Emmy could try and get his attention, Charles had come over for cuddles with his grand-daughter.

“Oh there you are, Grace!” he cooed, hugging her in his arms and kissing the top of her blond head. “She looks bigger even since last time I saw her!”

“She’s growing really fast,” Emmy agreed, smiling at her daughter, although the inside of her mouth was dry. Even though she’d been worried, she’d kept telling herself that Kate wouldn’t be mad, that she was silly to be fretting about it. She hadn’t prepared herself for what would happen if Kate were mad. And now there she was. And Kate was clearly angry.

“Stop being selfish, Pa, let me have a cuddle!” William said, coming over to tickle Grace in his father’s arms. Emmy managed another smile, looking somewhat imploringly at William, hoping he would tell Kate to stop acting like this.

“Aw, her hair gets more and more golden each time I see it!” Beatrice squealed, wanting to see Grace too. “Ooh, Emmy, I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” she said, somewhat distractedly. “It’s from H&M.”

“See!” Beatrice said. “You don’t need to spend much to look good!”

Emmy’s stomach dropped, and she glanced over to see Kate seething at Bea’s words. Spending too much was another of the things that Kate was being criticised for. Emmy wanted the ground to swallow her up in that moment, but a hand on the small of her back distracted her.

“Let’s go sit down,” Harry said in her ear. “Leave them to fawn over Grace.”

She gratefully followed him to a few free chairs in the corner, her hand in his, and she settled herself beside him. They greeted Zara and Mike, who were sat near them, and Mike grinned at the two of them.

“So, Em, you look tired,” Mike said.

“Mike,” Zara hissed, whacking his arm. “You can’t just tell a lady they look tired!”

“She doesn’t actually look tired,” he whispered back, although it was quite audible. “I’m just setting myself up to make a joke.”

Zara rolled her eyes at him, as he turned back to Emmy.

“So, Emmy, is it Grace keeping you up or Harry?” He grinned.

Harry tutted, rolling his eyes at Mike. “Wow, Mike, you set that up really good, didn’t you? That joke was so funny!” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Mike scowled playfully, then turned to Zara. “Now that Mia sleeps through the night we get to have a lot of fun after dark.”

Zara elbowed him to get him to shut up.

William brought Grace over then, grinning at his brother. “I think she wants one of you, she’s getting a bit upset.”

“I’ll take her,” Emmy said instantly, wanting Grace’s presence to calm her for all she could see was the hatred on Kate’s face whenever she closed her eyes. Grace’s cries subsided after Emmy started rocking her, and her tiny hand reached up, as though wanting to touch Emmy’s face. Emmy leant down and kissed the tips of her outstretched fingers, trying to lose herself in her innocence.

“Emmy,” said a voice as Emmy passed, and Emmy looked up to see Elizabeth patting the sofa beside her. “Come sit with me, let me see my great-granddaughter.”

Emmy forced a smile, very nervous, and took the spot beside her. Elizabeth beamed as she looked down into Grace’s curious face. Emmy looked round – she was now exactly across the rug from Kate, who ignored her, absorbed in conversation with Camilla.

“How are you, dear?” Elizabeth asked Emmy then, snatching at her attention.

“I’m fine,” Emmy said, a tad too quickly, so she forced another smile to try and seem more natural.

“You’ve been so busy lately,” she replied approvingly. “Amazing things, too. I saw about your first reception, very well done.”

“Thank you,” Emmy said, somewhat shy. “It was…pretty nerve-wracking. And I had the engagement during the day at ROSA too, I was just a mess all day.” She laughed.

Elizabeth smiled too, but then it faltered. “Ah yes, I remember that. You did very well on that engagement too – although I wasn’t such a fan of your dress.”

“M-my dress?” Emmy frowned, wondering what could have been wrong with her dress. “You didn’t like it?”

“Oh never mind that now,” Elizabeth said hastily, waving a hand to try and dismiss the conversation, and Emmy would rather have died than try and press an unwanted subject with The Queen.

Emmy frowned, but a coo from Grace snatched her attention. She looked down at her little girl, stroking her golden hair as Grace reached up with tiny hands.

“She looks a lot like you,” Elizabeth mused.

“Really?” she answered. “I can’t imagine that. She’s far too lovely.”

“She has your eyes and your nose,” Elizabeth explained.

“I think she has Harry’s eyes.”

“Harry’s colour, your shape,” she said, after a moment’s consideration. “How is she? Any other new milestones to celebrate?”

“Well, she reaches for things now,” Emmy said proudly. “And she can roll over. Do the mini-press-up too. I think she’s very close to sitting up by herself as well.”

“She’s very advanced then?”

“Maybe a bit,” she said, shrugging. “But not incredibly advanced. A lot of the things she does is a little common at her age.”

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes going back to her great-granddaughter. “I wish I could see her more often.”

“Hmm, we’re just always so busy,” Emmy said, with a sigh.

“You need to get a nanny.”

“Not yet,” she replied. “We’re still coping. And Grace is still too young, I think. I don’t want a stranger having such an important part in her life yet.”

Elizabeth’s eyes seemed very calculating and judgemental as they observed Emmy for a few moments, but then she smiled. “Whatever you think, you are her mother.”

Emmy relaxed, having anticipated a scolding, and let her eyes drift back around the room. Kate had gotten up to go and talk to Autumn, and her back was to her now so that Emmy could not see the angry glare. Harry was still with Mike and Zara, and he was currently tickling Mia to the point that she was squirming while she tried to kick him off. Emmy smiled at the sight of them.

It wasn’t long before dinner was served, and they all made their way into the dining hall off the private quarters. Grace had dozed off now, and so she slept in her carrier as the starters and mains were devoured. Emmy sat beside Harry, opposite Beatrice and alarmingly close to Kate, too. She tried to smile at her sister-in-law, but Kate ignored her. Or maybe she just didn’t see, but Emmy was pretty sure it was the first reason.

“So, Emmy,” Beatrice said across the table. “How’s being a MILF suiting you?”

“Bea,” William growled warningly, as George turned to Kate and asked “Mummy, what’s a MILF?”

Beatrice smiled in apology, then turned back to her. “How is it though?”

“It’s amazing,” Emmy said. “I love Grace so much. I just want to spend every second of every day with her.”

Beatrice looked at Dave then, as though to say “See?”, but he rolled his eyes and said to Harry, “What’s it like…in the bedroom, though? Bet you don’t have much time for any of that.”

Harry smirked cheekily as he looked at Emmy, and the sheer playfulness on his face made her blush deeply, sending her thoughts back to the last time they’d lost themselves in their sheets at home.

“We cope pretty well,” Harry replied. “Obviously there’s not as much time for that as there was before, but we still manage.” Again, another cheeky smile thrown her way.

Beatrice giggled as Emmy’s cheeks darkened, then turned to Dave and gave him another look which said “See?”.

Dave ignored her, now cutting his steak. Emmy looked between them, wondering whether there was something Beatrice was trying to convince her husband about.

“So, Kate, isn’t it great that Heads Together has been made the charity for the London Marathon?” Harry said across the table to his sister-in-law, and Emmy tensed as Kate turned her attention to the two of them.

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” Kate said, smiling at Harry. “William told me this morning – thanks for organising that.”

“Not at all, I went and spoke to all the top guys on Friday and they got back to me this morning,” Harry explained. “It was actually Emmy’s idea.”

All eyes turned to her, and she hastily dropped her gaze to her food, blushing deeply.

“That was a great idea, Emmy,” William said, throwing her a smile. “Harry didn’t give you enough credit.”

She forced a smile in return, and waved a hand dismissively. “I really didn’t do much – Harry organised it all.”

“Well, if you insist on giving me full credit,” Harry said playfully, smirking at her. She smiled weakly back, wishing he would notice Kate’s coldness towards her.

“Emmy,” Beatrice said then. “I’ve been meaning to ask you – can I borrow the hat you wore to the St Patrick’s Day parade? I’ve got a matching dress which I’m wearing to a wedding next weekend and it would go so well-”

“Of course you can,” Emmy said shyly, feeling Kate’s glare on her. “I don’t mind.”

“Thank you!” Beatrice squealed excitedly. “I loved your outfit that day. I thought Kate looked good in green, and then you just slayed.” She threw her hands up as though in defeat, then giggled and turned to Kate. “How was Greece?”

“It was really good,” Kate said, recomposing herself after looking upset by Beatrice’s words. “Very fun. William and I got some much-needed alone time.”

“Not easy with kids, is it?” Dave asked; Beatrice threw him a subtle glare.

“Well it doesn’t help, no,” William chuckled. “Harry, how you coping with it? Humping the sofa yet?”

“Oh ha ha,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Like I said, Emmy and I manage fine.”

“Impressive, I’ve heard how insatiable you are,” William replied, smirking at his brother.

“How’s your wrist?” Mike quipped.

“Mike,” Autumn complained, wrinkling her nose at him. “Please, we’re eating.”

“Blame Harry, he’s obviously the one doing it,” Beatrice teased, giggling at the disgruntled expression on his face.

“Enough, everyone,” Charles said then. “Like Autumn said, we’re trying to eat.”

The five of them fell into silence as down the other end of the table, Kate and Eugenie discussed some TV show they were both watching.

“Is that Modern Family?” Harry asked, overhearing their conversation. “You like that, don’t you, Em?”

“Yeah,” Emmy said. “Phil’s my favourite. And Mitchell.”

“I love Mitchell! He’s hilarious!” Eugenie agreed, laughing. “Did you see the new episode last night?”

“Um, no, I don’t get to watch it much anymore with Grace here,” Emmy admitted. “She keeps me busy.”

“Why don’t you get a nanny?” Kate piped up; it was the first thing she’d said to Emmy all evening and the coldness in her expression leaked into her voice.

Emmy hesitated, not wanting to upset her even more. “I don’t want to get a nanny yet. Grace is still quite young. And, I mean, Harry and I cope just fine. I don’t see the point in getting someone when we both can just look after her.”

“What about the other day? When William had to go and babysit for you?” Kate retorted, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Coping, were you?”

Around Emmy, other conversations had sprung up so that nobody noticed the snappiness in their voices. At Kate’s criticism, Emmy felt anger flare up inside her too. “If you’d rather William didn’t see his niece, then just say. We’ll find someone else to babysit.”

William heard his name, and he looked round, innocent and curious about what they were discussing. His smile disappeared when he saw the look in Kate’s eyes.

“Why don’t you just hire someone to do it, at least then you won’t have to take up our time,” Kate said.

“Oh yes, I hear you’re so busy,” Emmy answered dryly. “Poor you, only two holidays so far this year.”

“Sounds like you could do with one,” Kate snapped. “Might loosen you up a bit. I don’t know what Harry’s on about, it’s obviously been a while.”

“It’s been a while?” Emmy quoted, angry. “Well maybe I’d have more time if I didn’t need to keep covering for you.”

“I asked you to do that once,” Kate replied. “Never again, if it’s that much trouble.”

“Sorry I did the engagement better than you,” Emmy shot.

“Em, is it time to feed Grace?” Harry interrupted then, getting to his feet and somehow pulling Emmy after him. Surprised, she followed him from the room before pulling herself out of his grasp.

“What, Harry?!” she hissed. “Grace is asleep, she doesn’t need feeding-”

“What was that?” he answered, disbelief written on his face. “You and Kate – what?!”

“She’s been a bitch to me ever since we arrived,” Emmy said simply. “She hasn’t even spoken to me before just now.”

“Well then just ignore her!” he said. “Be the better person, Emmy, don’t stoop to her level! Granny was just telling me how proud she is of the work that you’re doing, don’t screw it up now!”

Emmy huffed, scowling. She didn’t appreciate being told off, but the knowledge that Elizabeth was proud of her took the edge off a bit. She followed Harry back into the room, vowing to bite her tongue and to ignore Kate as profoundly as Kate had ignored her.

It was the following day, and Emmy was sat in Claire’s office at Kensington Palace awaiting the start of the weekly meeting. Harry was at an engagement with William, and so Edward was accompanying him, leaving Claire and Emmy to catch up on her schedule and discuss her charities.

She sat across from Claire, with Grace curled in her lap, sleepy after feeding. She could tell that her secretary had some bad news, because Claire was sorting through her papers with the air of someone who was trying to avoid what was to come. Emmy watched patiently, dread slowly growing within her.

“What is it?” Emmy asked eventually, unable to stand the suspense any longer. “Claire, just tell me.”

Claire sighed. “I don’t want to. I feel like this is going to set you back so much.”

“Claire,” she said slowly, anxious. “I can take it, just tell me.”

The secretary took a long look at Grace, watching the baby play lazily with her mother’s Pandora, before answering. “I received an e-mail from The Queen’s head private advisor today. It was…about something that Her Majesty and several of Her Majesty’s office have noticed lately and aren’t entirely happy about.”

“Something I’ve done?!” Emmy blurted, horrified. Her mind swept back over the last few weeks, trying to guess what it is that she’d screwed up on.

“They don’t like what you wear,” Claire said, watching the effect of her words.

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of your outfits…they don’t think they are appropriate for a royal to wear. They don’t follow etiquette.”

“Why not? They’re inappropriate?!” Emmy looked devastated, offended. “What, like…slutty?!”

“No, not like that,” Claire said hastily. “They’re just either a tad too short, or they’re too fitted. Or even the skirts of your dresses sometimes aren’t weighty enough, and so they fly up a bit. That happened on St Patrick’s Day, the Queen was not amused by it.”

“So…I need to wear different clothes?”

“They just need to be a bit more formal, that’s all,” she said, trying to sound reassuring and comforting. She did not want this to ruin Emmy’s new-found confidence.

“Why are they having a go at me?” Emmy said, suppressing tears. “Kate wears flowy dresses too! Hers blow up all the time! And mine blow up once and I get told off for it?!”

“They’re not telling you off, they’ve just made an observation, is all,” Claire said reassuringly. “The best thing you can do is find the most formal, sophisticated outfit you’re your next engagement and prove to everyone that you can do what they’re asking of you.”

“What do they expect me to do? Turn up with my tits out and get all the attention?” Emmy wailed. “Is that really what they think of me?”

“Not at all-”

“Has Kate done this? She was so angry last week at dinner, did she say something-?”

“This is coming from Her Majesty, not from Kate,” Claire said. “They think that you just distract from the causes sometimes by wearing trendy clothes. Clothes which are a little too trendy. Too short. Too flattering, say.”

“They want me to look ugly and boring.”

“No, they just want you to look a bit more like a royal-”

Emmy huffed and turned her attention to Grace, blinking away the tears in her eyes. And she thought she’d been doing so well.

“Kate had the same talking to a few years after she married,” Claire continued gently. “She wore things that were too short too. Now she’s adopted a different style which really suits her. You can do the same-”

“Kate often dresses like she’s forty,” Emmy retorted. “And she can. She’s 35, she can get away with that. But me? I’m 22! And you’re asking me to dress like I’m a businesswoman?!”

Claire sighed. “Emmy, just try. You might find that you do okay at it. Look at what you wore to Grace’s christening – that was perfect. A little fitted, yes, but they couldn’t fault it in terms of etiquette.”

Emmy still did not look happy, but she forced herself not to argue. A little while later, she returned to Nottingham Cottage with Grace dozing in her arms; she placed her little girl in her cot to sleep before crossing the hall into her dressing room. The large wardrobe there was full of her dresses, and she flicked through them, examining them. Now all her eyes noticed were the short hems, the low necklines, the slinky fit – she could no longer see the beautiful fabrics or the stunning colours.

She reached the end of the rack, and her fingertips trailed across the bag that contained her wedding dress. Even that had broken the rules, she remembered. Her shoulders shouldn’t have been on show.

Without really thinking about it, Emmy unzipped the bag and silently undressed herself, before carefully slipping into her dress. This was her dress – she had had so much say in what it looked like that she couldn’t actually believe she hadn’t so much as looked at it since the big day. It fit her perfectly – a little too perfectly, perhaps, as she examined the curve of her waist and backside and wondered how she’d gotten away with it being so fitted too.

She tugged her hair out of her ponytail and then examined her reflection. So much had changed since the last time she’d worn it. So much.

Her thoughts and the silence of the house were broken by the slamming of the front door, followed by a yell of, “Emmy?!”

“Harry?” Emmy called back, suddenly panicked that he would see her in her dress and think she’d finally lost her mind. She hastily started to try and unzip the back, but it was not as easy as doing it up.

She heard Harry running up the stairs, and she cursed before abandoning her attempt at getting the dress off and conjuring up her best nonchalant expression.

“Emmy,” Harry said, relief in his voice as he saw her. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, not even noticing her dress. “Where’s Grace?”

“In her nursery, why?” Emmy said, his panic starting to leak into her now. “What is it?”

But Harry was already heading down the hall to check on their daughter. Pulling up the skirts of her dress, Emmy followed him.

“Thank god, you’re both safe,” Harry whispered, his eyes on Grace, still sleeping in her cot.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Emmy asked.

“Have you not seen the news?”

“I had a meeting with Claire,” she answered. “And I’ve been…busy…since.”

Harry’s eyes finally seemed to take her in, and he frowned slightly, before deciding that his own questions would have to wait. “There’s…been a terrorist attack in Westminster. On Westminster bridge.”

Emmy’s mouth fell open as her heart fell out of her chest. A hand absently went to cover her gasp. There’d been so many attacks throughout Europe, yes, but never here. Never so close.

“A man drove into pedestrians and then stabbed a policeman,” Harry explained slowly. “William and I were on our way back here from our engagement, we had to be diverted. Rick and Kev are downstairs now, checking the cottage and then they’re going to help check the palace perimeter.”

Emmy fell back against the wall, disbelieving. How could something so horrific have happened so close to her home, to where she slept, to where her daughter slept?

“Has…has anyone died?”

“Last I heard there were four people dead,” he said solemnly. “But that could still rise.”

She nodded, swallowing. Four people killed. Four people’s lives ended, and she was here wallowing in self-pity about not being able to wear the clothes that she liked! How conceited of her.

Her arms wrapped around her own waist, hugging herself, as she blinked tears away. She couldn’t imagine how horrible the situation must be down there, how it would feel for those who had lost children in this attack.

“Hey,” Harry said gently, moving to her and pulling her into his arms. She nuzzled into him, wanting to lose herself in his embrace and never surface. “It’s okay. We’re safe. We’re safe.” One of his hands held her tiny body closely to him while the other traced her hair with his fingertips, trying to soothe her.

“You could’ve been there,” she breathed, feeling sick. “You had to be diverted, so you could’ve been there. On the bridge. You said you were diverted but if you hadn’t been-” Her voice broke as her lip crumpled.

“But I wasn’t there,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I’m here. I’m fine.”

He just held her for a while, stood in silence in the nursery as Emmy tried to absorb the information and Harry tried to let his panic dissolve at the knowledge that his girls were okay. Having Emmy in his arms did little to rid him of the horror at what had happened, but it was reassuring to know she was safe with him.

Eventually, when Emmy pulled back to wipe her eyes and discuss making something for dinner, Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“You might want to change out of that dress before you do any cooking,” he suggested, smirking.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Emmy said, blushing slightly now that he’d mentioned that she was in her wedding dress.

“Why are you wearing it?”

She shrugged, then sighed, realising she was going to have to explain everything that had happened. “Your grandmother wants me to wear more formal clothes,” she said. “The clothes I wear don’t meet etiquette. So I came home and I was looking through all my dresses, and I saw this one.” She shrugged. “I haven’t worn it since the wedding. Not even for a minute.”

He half-smiled somewhat sadly at her, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I wish I could’ve seen you in it under different circumstances. You look beautiful.”

Even his simple compliment took her breath away, and she smiled. “Thank you. It still fits.”

“It fits very well,” he answered, his gaze trailing over her. “It’s lovely.”

“I need your help to get it off,” she admitted.

“Is that your trick to get me to undress you?” he teased. “Because I am unfortunately not in the mood-”

“Just unzip it please,” she snapped playfully.

He kissed the back of her neck as he did so, and then headed downstairs to start getting the dinner while she changed. Eventually, she came back downstairs in her usual jeans and mustered a smile. Her day had gone from bad to worse.

“What did you say just now?” Harry asked her, pulling her into his lap as he sat at the kitchen table. Her arms draped round his neck as he nuzzled into her. “About what Granny said?”

“Oh,” Emmy said. “In the meeting today, Claire told me that your grandmother and her office want me to dress more appropriately. Apparently I’m not following etiquette.”

“Really?” He frowned. “That’s a shame. I like what you wear. You always look gorgeous.”

She shrugged glumly. “I guess your granny doesn’t think so.”

“I’ll have a word with her,” he said. “Try and get her to let up on you-”

“No, don’t,” she shot, suddenly terrified he would drop her into more trouble. “Honestly, it’s fine. She’s right, I’m basically representing the family every time I go out, I need to dress a bit more appropriately.”

“You should be able to dress how you like,” he pointed out.

“Harry, it’s fine. I’m fine. Today…with what happened…I mean, what do I have to complain about?”

His deep blue eyes examined her face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, then he nodded. “You have a lot to complain about. Looks like Granny’s still trying to control our lives.”

“Hmm,” she said, then playfully she added, “And I was forced to marry you.”

“You poor person.”

“It was so hard,” she teased, as his lips toyed with hers.

“Oh it sure was.”

She shoved him gently. “Don’t make it dirty.”

“Me?” He laughed innocently, then pulled her closer to him and kissed along her jaw. “If you want me to talk to Granny I will, but if you don’t want me to then I won’t.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay.” He smiled at her. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And I am happy,” she said. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

But the thought of Kate’s bitter glare, and the knowledge that Elizabeth was not happy with how Emmy was doing, made her think that perhaps that happiness was about to come to an end.

#historyrepeatsitself-phff #prince harry fanfiction #prince harry fanfic #royalfanficcentral #Prince Harry

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tornrose24 · 7 years

Text

A little something from your friendly neighborhood fan: trimaxion ;)

Edith didn’t know how long she’d lain there, curled into a ball against a cold, unforgiving floor and soaked clear down to the bone. The majority of her thoughts were dull, much like her senses at this moment, and the energy it took to sort through them all felt impossible to find. Everything just felt so heavy now. Her memories, her limbs. Even her eyelids fought against her, fluttering open for only a second before closing again.

It took everything within her to stay conscious, disregarding the little voice in her head that tried several times to lull her back to sleep. She didn’t have time for that, she couldn’t because she had to… had to…

Groaning, she was unable to piece together why exactly she needed to get up for. There were things she needed to do, things she needed to remember, yet nothing tangible came to mind.

Nothing… except the storm.

A terrible one that had come out of no where - as most tend to do these days- sweeping over the coastline in such a fury that hardly anyone had time to find shelter. She’d been out on the boardwalk enjoying the festival with the children and…

‘The children!’

Gasping, Edith shot up immediately, disregarding every protest her body railed into her to stay still, to lay back down and rest.

Sweeping her eyes around the area, the anxiousness grew tenfold as the memories quickly flooded back to her mind. Every piece of it spread out from beginning to end, filling her up with so much information and dread she could scarcely find the will to breath.

It’d been sunny that morning, the wind cool with not a cloud hanging in the sky. In fact, Edith couldn’t think of a more perfect day for the festival to take place, inhaling deeply the salty sea air as the children lead her along the with excitement shining on their faces.

George and Harold were the most spellbound, mouths dangling open like fish while they Oohed and Aawed at anything and everything around them. They rushed from one stall to the next, sampling their fill of new foods, games and even staying long enough to enjoy a performance or two near the Museum of Oceanic Oddities. Time held absolutely no meaning at that point, slipping by unchecked into the afternoon with not a thought in anyone’s heads save for the next attraction to marvel at.

Needless to say, no one took any notice when trouble soon edged over the horizon.

It’d been so sudden, where one minute there was a sun bathing everything in its warmth and the next… complete and total darkness.

The festivities had ground to a screeching halt when a streak of lightening cut through the air, followed by a deafening boom. It rattled the boards beneath their feet, or perhaps that had been the waves crashing into them from below, sending several groups of people scurrying for safety further inland.

Those stuck on the rides were quickly hauled off while several officers ushered the crowd back into town, urging folks to stay calm and above all else not to panic. But panic many did, including the two pale faced boys who suddenly found themselves cemented to a pier, unable to tear their eyes away from the churning ocean.

Harold and George held tight to the wooden rails, deaf to Edith’s insistence they return to the castle immediately. Not even Billy or Lisa could budge them from their spots. Calling their names did absolutely nothing, nor did shaking them. Lisa finally grew tired of their statue-like states, drawing back her foot to kick George squarely in the shin and sending the boy to yelp in pain.

It may have been a childish move but at least it did the trick.

“We need to go.” She’d said, pointing towards Edith and her brother; who had already began making their way towards the crowd. George grumbled a little under his breath, nodding at this and grabbing Harold’s elbow to drag him away.

And not a moment to soon either.

For right as the two turned, a mighty wave hurled itself into the coastline, followed by another, then another, bombarding the docks with a vengeance. Rain burst from the heavens in great sheets, falling upon their heads and stirring the waters even more so than before.

The familiar wet sensation helped to snap Harold from his stupor just long enough for him to turn back towards his bestie, who had also stopped in his tracks when he took in the other boys appearance.

“What is it?” He’d hollered over the increasing noise, barely heard by anyone, including himself.

Absolute terror split along Harold’s face, his finger slowly pointing towards the sea. “I think… I think he’s out there. I think this is because of him. Because of us.”

‘What?’ Edith didn’t hear any more of their conversation, rounding back to retrieve the stragglers - who were now getting drenched. Her attention soon followed where the blond pointed and, despite the torrents of rain obscuring her vision, and the constant swell from the waves, she did manage to make out something in the distance. Something that was neither animal, boat or debris bobbing out there.

Something that, the longer she stared at it, slowly started to place a sense of unease in her chest.

“Alright, it’s time we return to the castle. That goes for you two as well. It’s getting to dangerous to be out here any longer.”

A look flickered through the boys expressions, their eyes falling to the bracelets on their wrists, then the open waters churning harder beneath them. Something passed between the two. Something Edith could not decipher, as if an unspoken conversation had just been held and she had no clue what they’d just agreed upon.

“You guys go on ahead.” George gave them a solemn smile, turning back towards the ocean, “We have to do this.”

“Do? Do what? If you think I’m going to leave you out here-”

“It’s ok, Edith.” Harold pitched in, sharing in the same resigned expression, “We’ll… we’ll be ok. So long as George and I are together in this, we’ll be fine. You guys get to safety. It’s time we faced him.”

She didn’t have long to contemplate what that meant. The two had already high tailed it back towards the pier’s end, shouting and waving their arms frantically at what ever lay in the water. “Harold, George! Please, get away from there before you fall in.”

They paid her no mind and continued their taunts.

Whether the thing out there heard them or not Edith couldn’t say for sure, yet she did know one thing and that was the storm, once fairly normal and small, grew down right deadly the moment the hazy silhouette spun its attention onto them.

Edith felt a tremor suddenly role down her spine, her breath hitching when the lightening brought multiple glimpses of some kind of horrifying creature out there. She could never be sure what she saw, for the water continued to pour into her eyes and the storm made it nearly impossible to distinguish what parts where ocean and the other part monster, but what ever that thing was, it had spotted them.

And it was angry.

Taking a step back, Edith hollered for George and Harold to follow her, begging them even more when the shadowy figure barreled through the water like a steamliner.

She wanted to run, to snatch up all four kids and escape what ever was bounding after them…

You must not lose courage-

Madame Miyuki’s words rang in her ears, halting her retreat.

If you can confront him… you can help bring about his end-

“The monster…” she whispered, remembering their conversation in its entirety. Miyuki had warned her to stand firm when the time came, to not lose her nerve if she ever wanted to protect the ones she loved and here she was, torn to do the complete opposite in fear of the (obviously not metaphorical) monster chasing after them.

She had little time to react, for her breath was soon lost to screams, then mouthfuls of water when the waves rose larger than before and slammed mercilessly into their pier. Unlike the children, who were crushed underneath the waters weight, Edith found herself practically shoved back onto the boardwalk in a tumble, well out of harms way.

She found herself sliding through the flaps of the Museum of Oceanic Oddities tent, grinding her teeth when her body rammed hard against several shelves lining the front. Numerous artifacts crashed down on or around her, ripping her skirt in several places and scratching any part of her not clothed; the worst being a long, diagonal slash running down her calf from a loose nail.

The pain was nothing to serious. She’d certainly felt worse from moving her aunts belongings around when ever the old woman had gotten a mind to rearrange the furniture. Not even the blood dribbling down her leg gave Edith pause, since that, too, seemed only a secondary concern to the fact the children were still out there in that chaos, most likely scared out of their wits and cornered by that thing racing towards them.

If you can confront him… you can help bring about his end-

A quick glance towards her feet revealed a handle. A very old, worn handle poking from beneath the Oceanic Oddities debris. She removed it effortlessly enough, thanking the stars above she’d landed in the one place an antique harpoon gun would have been on display.

…. do not be afraid to be angry when you have every right to-

Edith held it firmly in her hands, testing the weight and praying it could still do the job.

It’ll actually do more good than you will think-

The storm grew louder, with voices just barely audible over its roar. The boardwalk itself fell away to shambles under the increasing brutality the winds produced, leveling a multitude of rides and banging various ships into the rocks. Even the boardwalk itself slanted further and further into the sea, being torn from all angles until it dipped so dangerously, Edith barely managed to clear the small distance to the children.

Her eyes fixed on the scene before her, watching the dark creature who (since her absence) had risen itself onto the now broken and slanted pier, one claw embedded in the wood for leverage while the other held firm to Harold’s shirt. George stood beside his friend, shouting against the things face and trying to match it’s own ferocity. What they argued about became lost to her as she drew closer, leveling the gun and motioning for Lisa and Billy to stand behind her.

The two did as such, though Lisa pulled on her arm, urging her not to shoot him. Whether she referred to Harold and George or the monster, Edith didn’t know, nor did she give it much thought when it gave the boy a rough shake.

“Hey!” She screamed, taking aim only 20 yards away, “Let him go!”

The massive creature, to her surprise, swung its attention towards her. The heated fires in its eyes sizzled into embers, then cooled entirely as it slowly drew itself upright, a clear look of shock spreading through its body language.

Something in the way it looked at her then, assessing the situation, the gun, the determination mounted on her face (and the sudden familiarity in that piercing gaze) gave Edith just enough time to reconsider shooting it flat out once the boys were safe.

“E-Edith…” George raised his hands defensively, backing away from both the beast and her, “you don’t want to do that…”

“Yeah, you really, really don’t want to do that.” Harold affirmed, the storm dying down just enough for his words to be heard.

Both Billy and Lisa insisted that everyone needed to calm down, that the gun was unnecessary, that it would only make things worse and, in any other situation, Edith would’ve agreed. But this creature still held Harold in its claws, it was still threatening to harm them, and even though she could barely make out its shape through the heavy rain and darkness, she knew she would take the shot if she had to.

And she would not miss while this close.

You can help bring about his end-

When the thing didn’t move beyond staring, the woman hoisted the gun a notch higher, finger grazing the trigger, “I said let. Him. Go.”

An understanding passed between her and the creature, its grip slackening enough for Harold to slip free. The boy backed against the opposite railing as George had done, hands raised high.

Edith gave a glance towards the two, motioning with her head for them to get closer to her. “It’ll be alright, just walk slowly to me. I wont let that monster hurt you.”

The grimace both George and Harold made spoke volumes. It was the universal look that she had just said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Even Lisa and Billy had a hard time suppressing a groan.

Confused by their reactions, Edith glared at the creature once more, startled when the fires from before slowly built behind its eyes. Its once upright position lowered, hunkering down like the animal she had pegged it for from the beginning, growling deep in its throat… or was that the thunder?

She took a hesitant step back, trying to remember Madame Miyuki’s words, to call them back to her and steady her nerves once again, but the courage she had held began to recede; this becoming apparent with the shaking of the gun.

The storm grew in monumental proportions, the clouds clashing, the lightening cutting through the darkness like multiple rows of teeth. She shielded her eyes from it all, firming her stance when the wind cut across the planks and threatened to toss her into the next kingdom if she didn’t root herself fast.

She lowered her aim then, aware that the harpoon stood no chance at meeting its mark, not with how fiercely the wind whipped and howled in her ears. Or was that howl coming from the creature too?

She watched as the waves beat mercilessly against the shoreline, concentrating, it seemed, near their pier as if… as if that thing could command the weather itself. ‘No… that can’t be,’ she frowned, blinded by the ocean spray and biting winds yet again. ‘That’s not possible.’

And yet here she stood, shaking straight through to her core, going toe to toe against a monster from the deep that had risen out of its hellish kingdom to drag them all back down with it.

Stumbling, Edith fell near both Billy and Lisa, who desperately clung to her sides.

“You’ve really done it now.” Billy could barely be heard over it all, crushing his face into her arm, unwilling to watch what would happen next.

Edith wrapped her arms protectively around the two, trying to find the strength to get back up, but it seemed her muscles refused to cooperate, having strained beyond their ability to stand against a storm and the very beast that made it.

She whispered several apologies to the two, urging them to hold tight when the creature raised its arm, bringing with it a massive wave that blotted out the world around them. She could just barely see it through the flashes of lightening pushing through the water, her eyes drinking in the horror that would soon come crashing down on top of their heads.

She closed her eyes, clinging to the siblings as she waited for the end.

A crushing sensation soon followed… then nothing but silence, then darkness, then nothing at all.

Edith covered her mouth, gasping in both physical and emotional pain from the memories. That’s all she could remember until waking up here, in this large, hollow space devoid of any life save herself.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, her hands trembling as she sunk her face further into them, sobbing for the children she couldn’t save. Were they dead? Alive? Lost to the sea or safely in the castle where they belonged? She didn’t know, she just didn’t know anything other than the great pain eating at her heart and the ache rippling through her body.

She chocked on another sob, startled somewhat when a scuffling came from around (what she assumed) a hallway. How unusual to be trapped in a place with a hallway.

Readying herself for just about anything, what Edith didn’t expect to see was Lisa poking from around the corner, her mouth widening in surprise, then joy to see the young woman awake at long last. “Edith! We thought you’d never wake up. We thought… Billy and I…”

Before anything else could be said, the girl raced into the open arms of her friend, trying - and failing - to hide her tears. “We were so worried.”

“Shhh shhh, it’s okay, I’m alright.”

Lisa shook her head, sniffling, “You slept for so long. I thought he’d killed you.”

‘He?’

She looked up just in time to spot Billy racing into the room as well, laughing as he, too, tackled her into a bear hug to welcome her back from the dead. “We thought you were in a coma, or worse. Nothing we did would wake you up.”

“Oh, well I… I guess I’m just a heavy sleeper.” For all she knew she might have been in a coma, or just completely exhausted from the ordeal. Either of those were possible given the circumstances, but she kept that to herself, beaming a reassuring smile for the two and keeping a firm hold on them; still fearful they might disappear if she let go. “I’m just glad you two are safe. Though… where’s George and Harold? Are they in the other room?”

The siblings grip tightened, neither one saying anything at first.

This reaction worried her immensely, enough she pushed away to get a better look at them, “Kids? What happened? Please tell me they’re alright? Please.”

Billy was the first to sit up, unable to meet her eyes. “We don’t really know.”

“Don’t know? You mean they aren’t here with us?”

He shook his head, followed by Lisa. “We woke up here, with just you, me and Billy. I don’t know how long its been, but no one has come for us to ask and I’m afraid… I don’t think they…” The girl tucked her lip between her teeth, staring at her hands.

Edith understood what she was getting at, feeling a deep sorrow resonate in her chest for the two.

He will come to take away all who you hold most dear-

Again she wrapped her arms around the siblings, dragging them back against her side as she rocked slowly to calm them. Both anger and sadness bubbled up inside her, clouding her eyes over until her cheeks once again became wet.

How dare that monster do this?! They were just children and it had snatched them all away, possibly killing those boys for all she knew, and throwing the rest down here for… for what exactly? What purpose did it have to do this to anyone?

Gritting her teeth, Edith sunk her chin low to rest on their heads, trying to keep herself calm while whispering reassuring words, unaware of the eyes that watched them from a distant porthole

……YEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSS! *cheers in excitement! An aau of the Fathoms below AU in which Edith and the royal siblings get stuck in the kingdom under the ocean! This is awesome, Trimaxion! And the exact placement of when it happens makes it even more intense!

I love how the boys were willing to make that sacrifice, how made the storm get increasingly bad, how you incorporated the fortune that Edith was told, mentioning her aunt, and…. ah! *squees in happiness*

And you even made Krupp more monstrous sounding and scary than I usually imagine him to look like in the AU. I wouldn’t want to face this version of him. *evil laugh* Dang it Edith, that was the wrong thing to say. Also congrats, Krupp–you had to get angry and make things much harder for yourself.

Although I fear for the boys, and that they were locked up in this aau, like in Future Legend’s Count of Monte Cristo inspired aau of this AU.

This was a fun read, and as I read it I was wondering “I wonder how close this will get to what will happen later on?” and I like your take on that moment. Actually I was debating on giving Edith a nightmare sequence and it’s slightly close to being similar to this version. All and all, super awesome. :)

Also, I want to go to that museum. It sounds like fun. :)

#captain underpants #little mermaid inspired au #aau #from fathoms below au #edith the lunch lady #mr. krupp #principal krupp #george beard #harold hutchins #lisa beard #billy hutchins #trimaxion #this is awesome!#what if?#what if edith and the kids were sent to the ocean kingdom?#submission

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dailydaily-daily · 4 years

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A Public Hearing, and a Feud Over Ukraine

Or: Inaugural Michael Coverage

We open with the sultry whisper of Michael Barbaro. He gives us the time: “About 9:52 AM." He tells us he’s heading into a glass room with ten other reporters. Mike Schmidt. Annie Karni. Maggie Haberman. His intonation implies he could go on. Michael’s whisper now makes sense: he’s in the presence of journalistic gods. One must speak quietly, step carefully. If anything were to happen to the people in this room, would there still be news?

Our familiar theme creeps up, an arpeggiating non-confrontational synth, as Michael reveals that he and his fellow reporters are huddled around CSPAN like hyenas over a rotting carcass.

It’s impeachment day, baby.

The theme is now unleashed in all its hallowed glory, and we’re off. Michael, revved up, says the date a little faster than usual. He’s joined by Mike Schmidt, who was on yesterday for the excruciating third-grader interview. Mike comes in hard, barely able to contain himself. He’s hitting ev. ree. syl. a. ble. He’s audibly aroused.

Unfortunately Mike has to make way for Adam Schiff and Devin Nunes’ opening statements, both nearly unbearable to listen to. Then we get to hear George Kent, who sounds kind of scared. He goes on about how George Kents have run America for thousands of years and how Eastern European Cold War geopolitical strategy is in his blood, goddammit. I’m paraphrasing; he’s a bit dull. Michael I think senses this and quickly moves along to Bill Taylor. Mike is clearly in awe of this man, and describes his voice as booming, which is immediately proven outlandishly false when we hear Taylor read his opening statement with all the gravity of an emotionally unavailable grandfather reading a bedtime story. Mike doubles down and describes him as a show stealer.

We then hear about channels, unofficial and official, and about how he (Taylor) was part of the channels. It’s all riveting and nail-biting, but induces a kind of de ja vu. Haven’t we already been talking about these separate channels that Trump was using in regard to Ukraine? Mike jumps in and answers my question: yes, this already came out in previous testimony. But, Mike is quick to add, “for everyone else in the country, it’s bringing this story to life.” Huh? That droning voice in the background is bringing the story to life? The editors of the podcast seem to disagree with you, Mike; they’re using it as white noise.

For some reason, Mike Schmidt and most every other pundit believe that the having these two men on TV largely repeating what they’ve already been quoted as saying is going to have a huge effect on popular opinion. Because people don’t read, I guess. But talking heads have been talking about their testimonies nonstop, and politicians have already been spinning the stories, so really the only difference is they have clips of other dudes that look like them to cut to now. It’s simultaneously underestimating the American public (assuming no one followed the testimonies because they couldn’t see it come out of the mouths of the men who spoke them) and overestimating it (assuming everyone sat in front of their TV today to watch the entire testimony (actually this is also underestimating)).

But alas, Michael and Mike care not. They continue on, like boats borne ceaselessly against waves or some shit. Episode Rating: 2/5. No new information, largely boring. Fun opening, big fan of the Michael whisper.

Today’s Michael brought to you by: Genesis. A car company or something? Very bizarre.

Biggest story in the US? Unfortunately yes.

Biggest story in the world? No! Bolivian Coup! Coup I tell you!

#the daily #michael barbaro

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funnythingshere0-blog · 6 years

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What's so funny?: 25 singers cracking up at their own songs

New Post has been published on http://funnythingshere.xyz/whats-so-funny-25-singers-cracking-up-at-their-own-songs/

What's so funny?: 25 singers cracking up at their own songs

Singers laugh for various reasons, not all of them sincere. Take, for instance, the laugh that closes out Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”—a giggle some people find so fake, they made their own fan edits just to cut it out. There is intentional laughter, layered in to create a wild, maniacal atmosphere (“Thriller,” “This Is Radio Clash,” “Master Of Puppets”), or tossed off before a hip-hop verse to convey we’re having a champagne-popping good time. There is the spliced-in laughter that captures musicians as buddies, just cuttin’ loose in the studio (Beastie Boys’ “Heart Attack Man,” Spoon’s “Back To The Life,” the Pixies’ “I’m Amazed”). There are in-character laughs deployed as part of the lyrics (Morrissey’s mocking laugh in “We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful,” Lou Reed’s euphoric one in The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin”). In the case of Young Jeezy and Jadakiss, the laugh acts as a sort of catchphrase.

But the rarer kind of laughter is the spontaneous crack-up, the studio gaffe in which the facade briefly drops and the singer is suddenly amused by their own lyrics, or a bum note—or who knows what—and the moment thereafter becomes part of their song. Here are 25 examples.

1. Bob Dylan, “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream”

There’s plenty of funny wordplay in this wild, surrealistic satire from Bringing It All Back Home, but the laughter at the beginning is over something far more ordinary: Dylan starts the track and his band misses its cue, causing both the singer and producer Tom Wilson to bust out laughing. The 1965 album marked Dylan’s first dabbling with electric rock, to some fans’ dismay, so perhaps there’s something symbolic there in his briefly starting “115th Dream” in his usual, acoustic guise, then laughing at it. But mostly it’s just a glimpse of that loose, funny Dylan seen laughing and snarking in interviews, here finally freed from the yoke of playing the somber, socially conscious folkie all the time. [Sean O’Neal]

2. Pavement, “Summer Babe”

Between the release of its final Drag City single and its Matador debut, Pavement spit-shined its 1991 song “Summer Babe” into the remixed “(Winter Version),” but it left one ramshackle detail intact: Stephen Malkmus’ guffaw around the line “Daily drop off the first shiny robe,” Malkmus losing his Lou Reed-aping cool as he dishes out some word salad. It’s the perfect introduction to Slanted And Enchanted, a seminal album made by two California kids goofing around in the garage with their hippie burnout drummer. “Its flaws are a big part of what makes it good,” Malkmus has said, and the “Summer Babe” laugh is one of the album’s most endearing—and judging by its presence on both versions, most essential. [Erik Adams]

3. Geto Boys, “Trophy”

Geto Boys’ We Can’t Be Stopped closes with “Trophy” and Willie D going scorched-earth on the bullshit, rap-averse, awards-industrial complex: “I sold a lotta records and a lotta people know me / Now where’s my goddamn trophy?” he howls, amid interludes of a corny “host” doling out awards to George Strait, Reba McEntire, and the like. By song’s end, Willie D is handing out his own award to Geto Boys for “Most ‘Fuck Words’ In A Song,” before he finally collapses in laughter over his giving the “lip-sync goddamn motherfuckin’ Grammy to those punk motherfuckers, Milli Vanilli.” It’s an unexpectedly loose moment from the group, though, sadly, it’s still no joke: Geto Boys have zero Grammy nominations to Macklemore’s four. [Clayton Purdom]

4. Okkervil River, “You Can’t Hold The Hand of A Rock And Roll Man”

On 2007’s The Stage Names, Okkervil River’s Will Sheff, having newly broken through with 2005’s Black Sheep Boy, took a self-deprecating jab at a life path that’s been romanticized as a grand, debaucherous adventure, yet is mostly mundane. “You Can’t Hold The Hand of A Rock And Roll Man” starts as another ode to the drudgery of touring before it morphs into a stoned imagining of rock-star opulence, all leading to the singer enjoying a glamorous romance and, inevitably, bitter divorce. But the earnest Sheff can’t keep up the ruse: He breaks character during his final, mocking diatribe about his imaginary ex-wife, suppressing a telltale chuckle as his band plays him off. [Matt Gerardi]

5. R.E.M, “The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite”

Amid the dark, mournful introspection of Automatic For The People, “The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite” offers a moment of levity—almost too light, guitarist Peter Buck would say later. Still, “Sidewinder” does provide a break in between the solemn “Try Not To Breathe” and “Everybody Hurts,” particularly at the moment Michael Stipe audibly breaks on “a reading by Dr. Seuss.” It’s a silly lyric to begin with, though supposedly Stipe was laughing at his inability to stop pronouncing it as “Zeus” after repeated attempts. Like “Sidewinder” itself, his goofy chuckle serves as a necessary release. [Sean O’Neal]

6. The Flaming Lips, “I Can Be A Frog”

It’s barely 40 seconds into The Flaming Lips’ minor-key musing “I Can Be A Frog” before Wayne Coyne breaks, finally cracking up at Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Karen O as she runs the gamut of animal impressions (roars for a bear, mewling for a cat, awkward laughter for a bat). As Coyne later explained to Flavorwire, the two were actually doing a vocal session for “Watching The Planets” when “she started to make all these crazy noises,” inspiring Coyne to turn them into a whole separate song. It’s around the line “She said, ‘I can be a wolf’” that Coyne gives in, laughs slipping out amid the syllables, with “I Can Be A Frog” going from dark and downbeat to truly delirious. [Alex McLevy]

7. Art Brut, “The Replacements”

Art Brut’s Art Brut Vs. Satan is full of songs about stuff singer Eddie Argo likes: “DC Comics And Chocolate Milkshake,” the songs “Twist And Shout” and “The Passenger,” etc. Among those odes is “The Replacements,” in which Argos spends the entire track beating himself up because, “I can’t believe I’ve only just discovered The Replacements” so late in life. Argos sings the whole thing on the verge of cracking up, but he finally lets loose with a laugh as he consoles himself with the fact that “Secondhand records are cheaper / Reissue CDs have extra tracks.” [Matt Gerardi]

8. Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds, “Hiding All Away”

Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds’ 2004 double album, Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus, finds Cave embracing his gothic preacher persona while backed by members of the London Community Gospel Choir. It’s them you can hear laughing near the end of “Hiding All Away,” which grinds through a dozen verses of increasingly outlandish lyrics about being beaten by a judge’s gavel and basted with butter by a cook, before a line about the butcher’s “fist up your dress” around 4:30 finally sparks some uncomfortable titters. As Cave later explained, most of the Christian singers were just hearing the words for the first time, adding, “We left it in because the song was heading toward its fairly grisly revelation, and I thought it benefited enormously.” [Gwen Ihnat]

9. Low, “Open Arms”

Journey’s cheesy ’80s power ballad is a staple of semi-kidding karaoke covers, but Low made the rare move of actually laying its own down in the studio—a bit of blowing-off-steam that eventually surfaced on the rarities collection A Lifetime Of Temporary Relief, amid other renditions, in various degrees of jokiness, of songs by the Bee Gees and The Smiths. But the sadcore group’s rendition of “Open Arms” stands out for the laughing fit around 3:09, where Alan Sparhawk’s voice cracks trying to mimic Steve Perry’s tremulous keen and Sparhawk finally busts up at the stadium-sized, schlocky earnestness of it all. [Sean O’Neal]

10. Dessa, “Shrimp”

It’s unclear what prompts Dessa’s brassy laughter at the end of “Shrimp,” another entry in the rapper’s résumé of dextrous lyricism and individualistic-yet-universal feelings. Is she pleased with herself for the closing twist she puts on an old cliché? Is it the delight of someone who knows they happened upon the perfect conclusion to a near-perfect little track? Or is it just the sound of joy emanating from an artist doing what she loves, at the top of her abilities? Whatever the cause, the effect is endearing. [Alex McLevy]

11. David Bowie, “The Laughing Gnome”

Fake laughter is woven into the lyrics of David Bowie’s notorious early novelty single, a children’s ballad that’s also groaning with awful “gnome” puns, farty brass, and the sped-up chipmunk voice of its titular character. But around the 2:30 mark, Bowie’s “Ha ha ha / hee hee hee” gives way to something much more genuine, the sound of a man having a what-the-hell-am-I-doing? moment of self-awareness. It’s enough to—briefly—make you want to laugh along. [Sean O’Neal]

12. Mewithoutyou, “Orange Spider”

Christian-ish rock band Mewithoutyou imbues its songs with heavy symbolism and religious allusion, which invites plenty of scrutiny. But the explanation for why singer Aaron Weiss laughs during this track from 2006’s Brother, Sister is a little less heady: According to the band’s manager, former guitarist Chris Kleinberg recorded some backing vocals with “ridiculously inappropriate alternate lyrics,” which Weiss heard for the first time during tracking. Those backing vocals didn’t survive, but Weiss’ barely-suppressed chuckles do, giving this weird little animal song a very human heart. [Sean O’Neal]

13. Outkast, “Ain’t No Thang”

Over six minutes of crackling menace and hard-knock Organized Noize drums, Outkast’s Big Boi and André (pre-3000) each break off two verses in Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik’s “Ain’t No Thang,” with the latter in an uncharacteristically tense, antagonistic mood. But after waving .357s and Berettas around, André’s tough front finally collapses with, “You can sway with André / I’ll take it to the Ho-Jo,” a shout-out to the Howard Johnson hotel chain he caps with a laughing, “Just to let you know.” Even on this violent, shit-talking track, André’s raw joy is palpable. [Clayton Purdom]

14. The Police, “Roxanne”

The beginning of “Roxanne” features a laugh so straightforward, it’s hard to imagine it wasn’t deliberately added as an affectation. But the official history swears that, during the opening moments of the session, Sting accidentally backed his ass up into the piano, producing the fleeting dissonant notes heard in those first few seconds. A moment later, Sting’s laughter rings out through the speakers. The rest of The Police were so delighted by the mistake, they left it in as a fun, lighthearted beginning to their song about a guy who falls in love with a prostitute. [Alex McLevy]

15. Frank Zappa, “Muffin Man”

Frank Zappa’s zaniness was delivered with such a straight, occasionally hostile face, this mostly spoken-word track from 1975’s Bongo Fury feels like a significant crack in the facade. While reading through his own typically twisted logorrhea, Zappa is finally bested by the line “Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully charged icing anointment utensil, he poots forth a quarter-ounce green rosette,” with Zappa giggling and insisting, “Let’s try that again.” “Muffin Man” became a staple at his live shows, sans laughing, but the explicit rib-nudging in that flubbed recorded version is what made it a fan favorite. [Sean O’Neal]

16. Elvis Presley, “Are You Lonesome Tonight? (Laughing)”

Elvis was performing to a sold-out Vegas crowd when he changed up the lyrics—something he often did to amuse himself—on “Are You Lonesome Tonight?,” swapping in the line, “Do you gaze at your bald head and wish you had hair?” And he was already chuckling at his own improvisation when, according to legend, a man in the audience took off his toupee and started waving it around. This is supposedly what caused Elvis to lose it; he starts laughing in the second verse and never stops. As he wraps up, Elvis self-deprecatingly tells his audience, “That’s it, man, 14 years right down the drain.” But naturally, even the King’s screw-ups were successful: The so-called “laughing” version of “Lonesome” became a hit on the British charts in 1982. [Gwen Ihnat]

17. Billy Joel, “You’re Only Human (Second Wind)”

A jaunty little tune about teen suicide, “You’re Only Human (Second Wind)” finds Billy Joel stressing that, hey, life is hard and everyone makes mistakes—a point he illustrates by screwing up “sometimes that’s all it takes” around 3:55, prompting him to crack. Joel’s laugh sounds a bit too practiced—he even works it into the truly weird, It’s A Wonderful Life-themed video—which prompted some contemporary critics to suggest maybe it wasn’t so spontaneous. But Joel angrily insisted it was, saying both Paul Simon and Christie Brinkley heard him screw up in the studio and urged him to leave it in as a way of underlining the song’s overall message. Besides, its cheesiness fits right in as well. [Sean O’Neal]

18. The Beatles, “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”

It’s easy to miss the fleeting chuckle Paul McCartney delivers in “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer,” a song the other Beatles routinely complained about and John Lennon later disparaged as “more of Paul’s granny music.” But this genial, goofy ballad about a young man who murders people with a hammer contains a moment where even McCartney seems to recognize the daffiness of his own lyrics, suppressing a laugh during the line about Maxwell’s teacher making him stay after class, “Writing 50 times I must not be so, oh oh oh.” Various apocryphal explanations have been offered over the years (Lennon mooned him; McCartney was just high), but whatever the real explanation, it’s a nice moment of spontaneity in a song that, by the other Beatles’ admission, was so laboriously fussed over. [Alex McLevy]

19. New Order, “Every Little Counts”

For all his talents as a guitarist, songwriter, and, sure, a singer, Bernard Sumner penned some pretty insipid lyrics—even if they weren’t being compared to the gloomy poetry of his predecessor, Joy Division’s Ian Curtis. Even Sumner seems to realize his own lack of a muse on Brotherhood’s closing track, which finds him giggling through the first verse couplet of “I think you are a pig / You should be in a zoo,” then singing through an audible smile thereafter. “The words were so bad,” Sumner would tell Q magazine years later, even for him. Still, his laugh excuses the leaden verse, and it redeems the whole thing, offering a little ray of sunshine from a band that was breaking away at last from its deathly serious origins. [Sean O’Neal]

20. Bruce Springsteen, “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town”

Bruce Springsteen And The E Street Band’s live rendition of “Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town” is a perennial Christmastime radio favorite because of the huge amount of energy it brings to what is one of our dullest Christmas carols. Drums, saxophone, and Springsteen’s crowd-pleasing audience engagement bring some spirit to the 1930s standard—never less so than in the charming back-and-forth between Springsteen and the late Clarence Clemons, whose hearty, deep-voiced “ho ho ho”s set Springsteen to laughing not once, but twice during the chorus. [Caitlin PenzeyMoog]

21. The Fall, “Dr. Bucks’ Letter”

The Fall’s Mark E. Smith had a sense of humor, though it was as caustic and sometimes inscrutable as he was. Still, there’s an implied, impish sort of laughter behind many of his songs—and some literal chuckles in a few of them, like this track from 2000’s The Unutterable. As Smith is reading off his “checklist I never leave home without,” he cracks up at the line “I think it’s my P.A.’s computer,” then can barely get through “AmEx card / They made such a fuss about giving it to me / But I spend more time getting it turned down.” His reading suggests Smith was just pleasantly surprised by the drollery of his own lyrics, which would also square with his persona. [Sean O’Neal]

22. Ben Folds, “Bitch Went Nuts”

It’s a little tricky to gauge the sincerity of Ben Folds’ quick guffaw in this lively breakup song—not least because the album it features on, 2008’s Way To Normal, has a distinct layer of comedic artifice. But as the story goes, Folds and his bandmates spent a free day together crafting a collection of “fake” songs with names like “Bitch Went Nutz” (note the extra Z) that they then hosted on their Myspace page. Then they recorded a “real” version of “Bitch Went Nuts,” changing the POV from a Republican lawyer to a brokenhearted college guy, but keeping the same freewheeling energy—particularly when Folds briefly loses it over the line, “Holy fucking shit.” [William Hughes]

23. The Beach Boys, “Barbara Ann”

It was a toss-up as to whether to include anything from Beach Boys’ Party! on this list, as so much of the 1965 album is fake. The record purports to capture the band performing at an informal gathering of friends, but—as those scare quotes around “live” on the cover give away—the whole thing was actually done in the studio, with “party” chatter layered in like any other track. Fake as the presentation is, though, there seems to be genuine laughter running through the album’s breakout hit cover of The Regents’ “Barbara Ann.” As The Beach Boys, backed by Jan And Dean’s Dean Torrence, begin their second verse around 1:20, they stumble over those loving shout-outs to ’50s girls names—some sing “Peggy Sue” when they should be singing “Betty Lou”—then chuckle at their mistake as they plow on. It’s possible this part was just as scripted and rehearsed, but it sounds like a rare moment of actual spontaneity. [Sean O’Neal]

24. Janet Jackson, a lot of songs

Despite having found its way onto nearly two dozen tracks, there’s nothing canned about Janet Jackson’s laughter. Her mirth always pairs well with her music—there’s a giggle, titter, and chuckle for every mood and song. On “When I Think Of You,” Jackson’s full-throated laughter is a form of incredibly suggestive release. In “He Doesn’t Know I’m Alive,” they bubble before the halfway mark, brought on by nerves. Joyful tracks like “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” and “All For You” are accompanied by Jackson’s crescendoing giggle. The laughs that float out on “Rollercoaster” and “Bathroom Break (Interlude)”—and six other Janet Jackson tracks with “interlude” in the title—all have a conspiratorial air, giving the impression she’s hanging out with friends. Less frequently, Jackson will direct her laughter at others. On “No Sleeep,” the chuckle is the equivalent of an “Oh really” in response to J. Cole’s posturing come-ons, while there’s the appropriately rueful chortle in “Got ’Til It’s Gone,” a song about lost love. And her crack-up on “Doesn’t Really Matter” is almost self-referential: When Jackson observes, “I’m always doing that,” she could be talking about breaking mid-song. [Danette Chavez ]

25. Kesha, “Woman”

Like Janet Jackson, Kesha has a habit of laughing in her songs, a natural outgrowth of the drunk-party vibe of her music and her proudly “hot mess” persona. The slightly sinister chuckle that opens “Blow,” as well as the closing laugh that precedes the ad-libbed, “I like your beard” on “Your Love Is My Drug” are both prime examples of this zero-fucks-given attitude. But few of Kesha’s laughs have felt more significant than the one that arrives midway through Rainbow’s “Woman”: The song kicks off with some wild studio laughter that sounds like the tail end of some goofing around, and that energy carries over to the part just past the minute mark where Kesha loses it on the line “Loosey as a goosey and we’re looking for some fun.” The song was released as Kesha emerged from a prolonged legal battle with former collaborator—and her accused assailant—Dr. Luke, Kesha finally, triumphantly just having fun again. Her laugh says it all. [Sean O’Neal]

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heartfeltheart · 4 years

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Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science

Chapters: 8/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)

"My ears... My head... What the truth happened?" Edward muttered his breath, his brain screaming out in pain at the constant ringing

"He's waking up."

"About time."

"At least he wasn't sent to a complete coma."

"Was that necessary to say?"

"What? You do know it's true."

"Boys...."

"Sorry Professor..."

Reluctantly, Edward opened an eye to see Severus, Fred, George, Pomona and an unfamiliar woman he never seen before. They were all standing around the cot he rested on. With a groan, Edward closed his open eye and pulled a thin sheet over his head. He paused when he felt that he was no longer wearing his shoes. Swiftly, the golden Blonde shot up and lifted the sheets up. Letting out a sigh of relief, Edward was glad to see that he was still wearing a pair of thick socks. That was one secret he was not ready to tell anyone yet. Always wearing socks to hide his automail leg and to not ruin his good shoes far too quickly. "Truth..."

"Vat the truth vas dat ding!" Edward grumbled out, rubbing his forehead with his right hand.

"Mandragora." Pomona said she looked at Edward with complete sympathy.

"It's also called Mandrake." Fred added in.

"It let out screams that could either kill or knock out any person." George continued off after his brother.

"Great..." Edward muttered under his breath, he remembers reading that name in one of the many books that belong to Severus. He mentally went through what exactly he read about the plant along with the picture of it. The pictures he saw in the books and that single moment seeing Pomona pulling out a baby-plant like thing. "Hov long have I been out?"

"Little over a day, it's now lunch time." Severus stated, he walked towards the small table next to Edward's cot. On the table is a pitcher of water and a glass. "Do not worry about informing the other Heads. That has been taken care of by Professor Flitwick and myself."

"Dank you..." Edward thanked Severus and took the glass of water that the Potions Professor had offered him.

"It was also approved by the headmaster." Severus stated and this prompted Edward to spew out his water in shock. Without much motivation, Severus handed Edward a cloth napkin and slapped the blonde on the back. "Don't die now..."

"Shut up!" Edward coughed out, glaring at Severus from the corner of his eye. "Who blabbed?"

"...When we mentioned this to Professor McGonagall, she quickly went off to inform Professor Dumbledore."

"Vat did he say about it?"

"He finds it enlightening how anyone and everyone as an opportunity to attempt alchemy."

"Hah..." Edward snorted under his breath at that notion. He slowly sipped his glass of water as water, his eyes became distant as many memories ran through his mind. Many of them made his growl out the next couple of words. "Dere are people are dere that have no business learning alchemy."

The twins actually huddled together, taking a nervous step back. In the short time, they knew Edward; they never saw this side of him. Dark, menacing, and right down scary. Nothing like the easy-going, light-hearted, and bamboozling professor they have become to know.

Edward saw Fred and George taking a step back away from him. He blinked several times in confusion, his entire expression shifted from confusion to understanding. Then in complete 360, his entire persona shifted to one of foreboding to complete comical amusement to everyone around. When he tried to wave his hands in front of him he has spilled his water all over, get entangled in the thin white sheet that was covering him and tumble over the cot. There was a loud smack that rang out when Edward's head hit the marble floor.

Silence. Complete silence.

"Mr. Elric!"

"Edward!"

"Professor Elric!"

Edward groaned out in pain and responding to everyone that called out to him. He felt two people helping him up and back onto the cot. Someone had taken the now empty glass from his hand and took away the sheet from him. Now all that is left is a throbbing headache. This one injury was nothing compared to his many past injuries. However, at that moment he had allowed his guard down due to the pain, the weird presence that surrounded the school suddenly felt like it was attacking him. Like it was messing with his mind, making him see things differently and change his mindset. Taking in a deep breath, Edward pushed out that presence that was attacking his mind. Oh, how it felt all the times he had met Truth and feeling extremely annoyed by it. "Stupid school that hates me..."

Someone had firmly placed a hand on Edward's shoulder and that seemed to help him through that funk. His vision cleared up and he no longer felt the need to strangle something. Looking up he saw that it was Severus that placed his hand on his shoulder. "I think this school hates me..."

"What makes you think it hates you, Mr. Elric?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow upward questioningly.

"I thought I told you not to call me that!"

"You did?"

"Stop dat."

"Stop what?"

"Dat!"

"That?"

A loud cough interrupted the escalating argument, everyone turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing a good way from everyone. She sent a pointed look at the twins; the twins glanced at each other before they said their goodbyes and quickly scurried off.

"Fred! George!" Edward called out after the Weasley Twins. Both boys turned around to look at the Alchemy professor. "Continue with your studies, there might be a chance you could get into my class this year."

The way the twin's eyes brighten and their smiles made Edward grin at them. "If you only pass a test."

"Come on, Mr. Elric."

"A test!"

"Go study!" Edward yelled out the boys before they ran off after getting another look from their Head of House. The Golden Blonde glanced over at said Head of House with a frown. "Vat?"

Minerva expression frown deepened, looking like she wanted to say something to Edward but turned her gaze over to Severus. "A word? In private."

Severus glanced over at Edward, who actually looked relieved for not having to speak with the woman. Edward shrugged and went back to lying on the cot, wincing when his head hit the stiff pillow. "Ow."

Severus snorted, which earned him a glare from Edward before he followed Minerva out of the Hospital Wing. Once the loud audible click that signified that both professors had left the room, leaving Edward, Pomona, and Poppy alone in the Wing.

"I think she does not like me all that much..."

-.-

Severus slowly blinked at the Transfiguration Professor as she stared back at him with questioning eyes. She has just expressed her excessive worry about Edward being a legitimate Professor, or even allowed in the school for that matter. Only for the fact, Edward is a Muggle in all ways and other reasons she managed to sprout out. The main point she will not let go is Edward not being a wizard. He didn't want to remember the argument they had over the laws that were broken.

"In all honesty, Severus...this is something you would never do. I haven't seen you this friendly with anyone since..." Minerva caught herself out before she uttered a certain someone's name. She looked at Severus face to gauge his reaction, to only see her fellow professor calmly picking up the cup of tea that she had placed in front of him earlier. It wasn't the type of calm that could be described as the calm before the storm. If anything he looked resigned to the simple fact that Severus actually has a friend. "Severus...?"

"We have a similar taste in humor." Severus shrugged not denying what was said to him. Severus sense of humor, or sense of offending people, Edward doesn't take it to heart. If anything, he knows how to turn the tables against Severus. Edward doesn't take crap from anyone and they could have intellectual conversations, even if it sounds more like they bickering with each other. Although Edward has his idiotic moments, he has his moments that even surprise Severus to a high degree. The main one is that Dumbledore cannot control Edward like he has too many others. "And... There is more than what meets the eye for this so-called Alchemist..."

This caught Minerva's attention, she signaled for Severus to continue on talking.

"He comes from a country that no Wizard has ever heard or been to. A place where only Alchemy is the norm and public knowledge... How is it that someone you consider to be a full-blooded Muggle, able to see Diagon Alley or let alone enter Hogwarts without any sort of magical help?" Severus allowed his words to sink in. These are questions that even have himself questioning Edward own background. Not even his background but the place where Edward hails from. Amestris. "This world has far more secrets than what we originally anticipated..."

"I had assumed Albus did something to help him..."

"No, Mr. Elric may not be capable of doing magic, but what he knows and does, defies what we everything we know as a whole."

-.-

"Achoo!" Edward sneezed out loud, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He glanced around the corner hoping to see no one. Seeing that no one was there, he quickly took the hallway hoping to find Severus or Filius. He was lost and had no clue how to return to his classroom or room in general. After managing of escaping Madam Pomfrey's watchful eye, Edward made his escape. Magic or not, a doctor is a doctor. "Where am I now?"

After thirty minutes of walking around, getting lost on the constantly moving staircases, Edward was nowhere near where he needed to be. "I need a flipping map! This place is impossible."

Edward stuffed his hands into his pockets and decided he might as well continue on, there was no point figuring out the school. He did not need a headache he already has to grow. With not much on his mind, the Alchemy Professor allowed his eyes to wander around taking everything in. He made it a point to ignore the moving and talking paintings. If he allowed his mind to focus on them, it would lead to unnecessary complications. "Now where to go..."

-.-

"Here I thought we would avoid them..." Führer Grumman mused, looking over the letter that Mustang received from Elric. Mustang stood in front of his desk, his expression serious. "How is it when something happens of this level occurs, you somehow get sucked into it?"

"To be honest... I have been asking myself that same question for years." Mustang stated, mentally cursing Elric penchant for getting in trouble. Here he thought the golden blonde would learn and stay out of trouble. But no... If anything that the idiot managed to get him into is something they never would have anticipated happening. To get in contact with a world that as no complete power over them and of course everyone's favorite, saving a country from complete destruction. 'Even with the evils of the Transmutation Circle, it did provide us protection from that side of the world.'

"Do you want to bring him back?"

"No, it would be a matter of time before this would happen. Keep this to yourself and maintain contact with Colonel Elric about this."

"Understood."

"...Tell more about this owl of his...?"

-.-

"How did I end up here?" Edward said to himself, he had somehow ended up on the rooftop of one of the tallest tower of the school. He had thought if he got on the roof he could have a better insight of where he was. Well, that did not work out well as the first thought of it in his head. "How do I get back down now?"

Tag List Below:

Permanent Tag List: @runestarchild @princesskitomi @fanfictionpromptsblog @souleateralicestein @vixen-uchiha @okami-knight @legendaryneckjudgestudent @weird-homosapien @justafanwarrior @vivilakitty @ravennightingaleandavatempus @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @moonwatcher04 @darkshadowguardian @two-faced-biatch @kris-pines04 @mewwitch @edwardhatori @kuroko26 @tall-and-angry @bloody-no-kissu @crazylittlemunchkin @tbehartoo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @melicmusicmagic

#Alchemy Series #Chapter 8 #FMA #HP #HP/FMA #Crossover #Au #magic vs. science

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