Andromeda Tonks

Andromeda Tonks: Wife Mother Healer Friend of the Order

[glazedwizard]

[mlikemarcel-deactivated20180619]

Gemma Arterton, by Linda Brownlee for Stella

[and-romeda]

♫ - What kind of music do they enjoy?

//Andie enjoys most music, and has become quite fond of the Muggle songs Ted has shown her. But her favorite music is, and has always been, classical.

[and-romeda]

☮ - Do they have an idol or someone they look up to?

//Oh man this is gonna hurt. Because the people she most looks up to at the moment are her in-laws.

But in her childhood, Andromeda absolutely idolized her mother. Druella was everything that little Andie wanted to be. When she was very young, Andromeda would follow her about the house, mimicking certain gestures: tilts of the head, gestures of the hands, posture and way of walking.

[and-romeda]

Before You Go || Andy + Ted || January 12,1979 || NSFW

[hanging-onto-reality-deactivate]

She responded so well to him. Her motions, her breath all swam through his head and oh how he loved it. He loved how she looked at him with her brown eyes, how she quivered underneath his touch, and especially the precious sounds that came from her breath. While his hands were comparatively larger than hers, they seemed to mold perfectly to her curvatures. Her face was the perfect visage of pleasure, and it shook him to the core that he could do all of that. One simple brush could cause such a wave of immeasurable pleasure.  

He could feel her hot breath against his cheek. How could one be so lucky to be near her without flattery? Her fiery kisses scorched a path along his neck and he could feel her hands teasing his muscles as they traveled further down to undo his belt. If only she would move faster, this is killing me. The torture, however, was worth it. His own hands never moved from their positions on her waist. The clinging of metal never made it to his ears; his mind was too far away to notice. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. Already he could feel some of the pressure being relieved. He moved his hands quickly to push his pants down. With a few steps, he managed to untangle his ankles from his jeans and toss them over somewhere across the floor.

When it would come time to get ready to leave, it was going to be interesting trying to find all his clothes scattered across the floor. But, he wasn’t worried the least bit, nor was he thinking about it. Things could wait, especially with current pressing matters at hand.

His heart pulsed so loudly he could hear it in his ears. The fire, which filled his stomach, grew. His breath became more ragged, catching when she ran across his Adam’s apple.

The thought of their bed had just popped into his train of thought. “Bed.” He backed up a little and lowered himself so that he was sitting on their soft bed, taking her with him. With a casual swipe of his arm, the backpack toppled over and landed on the floor; some of the contents tumble out and spill onto the floor. Leaning back, he shifted himself over her. He blew a soft stream of air on her flat stomach, moving up and down. He looked up at her with a mischievous grin before moving back up to capture her mouth. With a hand, he brushed some of her hair from her neck to grant him access to the small nook just below her ear. “I love you.”     

[and-romeda]

Unlike her, he hadn't wasted time in removing his clothes and then returning to her - it was almost as though his hands had never left her skin. She didn't know how he did it, made time seem to stop, slow, and then speed up again. It was magic of an altogether different sort, a kind that only seemed to work when it was just the two of them.

The sound of the backpack hitting the floor only barely registered - she was much too focused on the feeling of her husband's skin against her own, on the murmured words and following him back onto the bed. In his eagerness, he'd all but pulled her down with him, and it was a fight to land even semi-gracefully. Not that she had long to worry about that, of course - before the thought had even fully formed, he'd shifted them both so that he was above her.

The coolness of his breath made the muscles in her stomach clench, and her breath came out as a hiss between her teeth. But the cold was soon forgotten, swallowed up in his kiss. Andy's hands splayed against his chest, then moved up to rest on his shoulders. "I love you," she said in return. And she did. So much that "love" hardly seemed to cover the extent of it. She loved him more than she'd thought she could love anything, until she'd had Dora (and even that wasn't exactly stronger, only different). People didn't belong to people. She'd learned that the hard way, over years and quiet observation. But their lives were so tightly entwined that it seemed hard to imagine it could have been any other way.

His attention to the spot just below her ear - all soft, sensitive skin - made it difficult for her to reach his skin with her lips again. For a moment, she settled with simply turning her head, allowing him access to the spot. But she was restless, ignited, and unable to hold still. Her leg hooked over his hip, holding him closer as her hips rolled teasingly against his.

[and-romeda]

Andromeda and Gideon ||A Little Peace and Quiet || Warming Up || February 1, 1979

[mr-gideon-prewett]

Well so much about getting home early. Gideon sighed as he turned away from the window. This didn’t look like it would stop snowing any time soon. They should have seen this coming, after all it had been in the news all week long, Muggle and wizard papers equally. And here they were, the whole Order of the Phoenix, the brave warriors, snowed in. And what had they decided to do? Find a solution, a way out? No, they were throwing a party. And a pretty wild one at that at least from where Gideon was standing.

Contrary to most of the others, Gideon was stone-cold sober, having had only water all night long. With his brother’s alcoholism getting worse with every passing day, he’d been drinking less himself. It hadn’t been a conscious decision and it wasn’t as if he was completely abstinent. Gideon still enjoyed a glass of whisky or a pint of ale from time to time. But he no longer got drunk to the point where he lost control of his own actions. The downside of it was that this party had probably been a lot more fun with some alcohol in his system.

Now his water glass was empty and his stomach was, too so Gideon pushed off the windowsill he was leaning against and dove back into the crowd intending to get a refill and maybe some leftover snacks in the kitchen. Somehow he’d missed the platters with food earlier. It was easier said than done, no one was overly eager to make way and soon, Gideon was stuck in a crowd full of sweating, intoxicated people. It threw him back to the last get-together they’d had in this house and that had ended in what was probably the worst night of his life. A party, similar to this one, the whole Order assembled, the air sticky and too warm, everyone enjoying themselves. And then the horror after they’d apparated back to London. Piccadilly still haunted his dreams.

The kitchen was vacated when he entered it and there was indeed a plate with some sandwiches on a counter. There were also what Gideon assumed to be the contents of all the cupboards in the kitchen. Glasses, plates, even some mugs with what looked like red wine in it. Long story short, the room was a mess. Gideon groaned. Damnit, what are they? Teenagers? Well, yeah. At least some of them. And others were pretty close. Ignoring the sandwiches for now he pulled out his wand deciding to clean at least some of it up. With a gently flick, the dishes floated towards the sink where they assembled more or less neatly. Not too pretty, Molly could have done it better but at least it took up less space and made the impression of some degree of tidiness.

Gideon was just turning his attention back to the food when he noticed one of the wine glasses being broken. He reached for it to put it somewhere separate when his fingers slipped and he felt a sharp pain shoot through his left palm. Oh fuck! The cut wasn’t too long but it was bleeding quite a bit. Oh great, Prewett, now you’re making an even bigger mess than the one you just tried to clean. There was a dish towel next to the sink so Gideon took it and pressed it at the wound. He should ask Andy if she had any bandages for him. He could try a healing spell, but experience had taught him better not to try.

 Andromeda had apparently just left to take her daughter to bed. Gideon found her just when she was leaving Dora’s room, exhaustedly leaning against the door for a moment. It hadn’t been his intention to startle her so he gave her an apologetic smile in response to her gentle scolding. “’m sorry, next time I’ll send a herd of elephants ahead so you’re warned.” A little sheepishly he help up his hand. “I cut myself and was wondering if you have anything to dress this properly? And I’m sorry about messing up your towel. Of course I’ll get it cleaned before you get it back.”

[and-romeda]

Her expression softened, her annoyance fading just slightly when the surprise faded and she realized who it was. The apology written on his face and voiced, as well, went miles to aid in the softening. Andy offered a small smile, glancing down the hall where the light and noises of the party drifted down. "Yes, I doubt I would have heard anything less," she said. "I should apologize for being so...snappish."

She offered no excuses. To complain about having so many in her house so late would be ungracious, not to mention simply...annoying. And there was so much more to worry about than her personal preference for a little peace and quiet in her own house. Such was the price paid for offering refuge to the Order, she supposed. At least it kept Ted satisfied enough to keep more thoughts about really and truly joining from turning up again. Most of the time, she didn't mind it. In fact, sometimes it was even enjoyable. But this was just too late, too much, too loud. And there would be no calling an end to it until the weather let up.

In the dim light of the hall and in her state of mild surprise, she hadn't noticed the disk towel clenched in Gideon's hand. Her brow furrowed as he drew her attention to it, and she shook her head. "There's no need to apologize for that," she said. "What happened?" A peal of ringing laughter pierced the air and Andy winced, glancing back at Dora's door. "I should probably cast some sort of muffling charm," she muttered. "With my luck, they'll have her up and moving again in no time at all."

She drew her wand and pointed it at the door, casting the spell that would keep the worst of the sounds from piercing through. With that done she gestured for Gideon to follow her, leading him just down and across the hall. She didn't much feel like fumbling with her wand to try and heal anything while attempting to keep the dim hallway lit.

Flicking the light on, she held out her hand. "Let me see it, then," she said. "As long as it isn't too deep, I should be able to have it cleaned up in no time."

[behindfairytales]

[strangexbloodxarchive-deactivat]

[gemmartertondaily]

[x]

[and-romeda]

Before You Go || Andy + Ted || January 12,1979 || NSFW

[hanging-onto-reality-deactivate]

He can barely keep his thoughts straight as her hands run up and down his torso. When she kisses him on his collarbone and neck, he can feel more of the tingling sensation originating from each spot. Then, a mild shaking – Andy was laughing. He knew that his attempt at unclasping her bra was a rather feeble one, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a little too. It brought back memories of when he was still learning about how to best discard women’s clothing; if only there had been a course on the subject, it would have saved him a lot of time and early embarrassment.

As she withdrew a small moan escaped his lips – he was already pining for that contact again. He wasn’t sure what to make of her tilted head or her playful stare: not sure if he should shut the gap between them. It felt like eons waiting; his heart beat faster and the constriction of his own clothes make him more and more impatient as the moments go by. Just about when he can’t take it anymore, she’s pressed against him once again. He inhaled sharply at the re-established contact. “They should come up with easier things,” he managed.

Her voice is playful, almost toying. He let her guide his hands to her back again; the smooth fabric slipped through his fingers as he found the clasps. Peering over her shoulder, he tried to focus his hands on the small mechanism – it doesn’t help at all that she’s right up against him. At long last, he managed to free the last hook. Wasting no more time, he pushed the thin straps from her shoulder until the blasted thing came fully off and tossed it aside. Even after their years together, his breath still caught in his throat.

His fingers traced patterns on her back as they worked their way towards the front. One thumb grazed a rosy tip, paused and then made light circles. It wasn’t long before he bent down a little to replace his thumb with his tongue. His tongue swirled around the bud, running over it sporadically, while he sucked lightly at her warm flesh. He did his best to see her reactions on her face, as his hand cupped her other breast, caressing. He could feel his jeans becoming tighter, constricting him but he did his best to ignore the growing pressure. Releasing her bud from his mouth, he straightened himself and leaned in next to her ear, “You’re perfect.” 

[and-romeda]

Her forehead rested against his shoulder as his hands fumbled with the delicate clasp, and she breathed him in as his head craned over her shoulder to see what he was doing. The smell of him, the taste of his lips lingering on her own, the warmth of his skin against her own. "And make things so easy for you?" She teased as the straps slid down her arms. She bit her lip, watching him take in the sight of her, her heart thudding along as she took in the expression of his face, the look in his eyes....and then there was no time left to watch. Any gap of space that had opened up between them had closed again, and his hands were warm against her skin, tracing patterns across her back that seemed to burn in his wake, and she shivered as they - finally, finally - skimmed over her sides.

Silently she thanked whoever was listening that the way they felt for each other hadn't changed. That this, at least - despite quarrels and hardships and the years since they'd met - hadn't changed.

If her lungs kept reacting this way, she'd have no breath left to catch. But it did catch somewhere in her throat at the brush of his thumb across sensitive skin, and if there was any way she might choose to lose her breath it was like this. Her breathing faded into a soft moan as his mouth closed around her, taking the place of his thumb, and her fingers brushed through his hair. There was no such thing as time, anymore - she had forgotten the food she'd made that was now cooling on the table, and any thought of being late had been easily brushed from her mind. Her eagerness - for him, for this, for something resembling normal - had taken over all of it. Her head rolled back, eyes half-open. Watching him watching her, every expression of her face in those moments more expressive than she had been in days. She all but whimpered in protest as he pulled away and straightened again, though she smiled at his words and turned her head to kiss the side of his mouth.

"Flatterer" she murmured against his skin, her lips trailing back to his neck as her hands fell to the waistband of his trousers, fingers tracing along until she came to the clasp of his belt. She undid it and pulled the material slowly through its loops, casting it aside only to return to the fastenings of his pants. She'd felt him against her, but knew he'd sooner lavish all of his attention on her than relieve himself of the material she was sure had become uncomfortable.

[pureblyss]

She buried her ears into the calm of his heartbeat, and in a matter of seconds: fell terribly in love with the way her loneliness fell softly and suddenly, asleep, in his chest.

Christopher Poindexter  (via petrichour)

[derwandelndegeist-deactivated20]

[shriekingportrait-deactivated20]

Tea Time || Molly & OPEN || Chat

"Here, here have a little more tea." Molly poured a rather laborious amount into her guest’s cup. "It’s so nice to have someone at the house, really, and I haven’t seen you in so long. Go on, tell me everything!"

[and-romeda]

"That's-..." Andy began, but wasn't quite able to deter Molly from pouring another large cup of tea for her. She glanced down at it with a small smile, taking a sip despite her near-protestation. It had been more out of politeness, anyway, turning down another cup. She should have known better, when it came to Molly Weasley. "There isn't much to tell, lately," she said. "Besides, of course, my daughter nearly breaking every secrecy statute in place by trying to turn her hair purple in the middle of a crowded Muggle street.

[mina-harker]

andromeda, ruler of men

[and-romeda]

Andromeda and OPEN ||A Little Peace and Quiet || Warming Up || February 1, 1979

Date: February 1st, 1979 Time: 11:45pm

She couldn't help but feel, if only a little bit, that her home had been invaded. Order meetings were one thing, casual get-togethers after were nothing much to think of, but this...was a little much, for her tastes. There were people everywhere, she'd interrupted more than one couple in...compromising...positions, and it was getting late. She had done what she could to be a gracious hostess, she'd set out drinks and put together food for the hungry crowd. She'd talked and laughed and everything else.

This was nothing like the parties she had once attended, where wine had been sipped from crystal glasses, and the conversation was so quiet it was almost the hissing of whispers. Now, it would have reminded her of a den of snakes. Then, it had seemed almost comforting. But put enough alcohol into any group of people stuck in a blizzard - especially those so torn apart by war - and even an Oder meeting could become something more like what Andy had imagined Gryffindor Common Room parties must have been like.

She had been perched on the couch when Dora, up much past her usual bedtime - had crawled into her lap. Her hair had been brown - a sure sign that she was tired. But at her mother's murmured suggestion that they tuck her in for the night, Dora had protested. She liked the attention, Andy assumed. Liked talking to so many people, having them exclaim over how much she had grown or how pretty her bright-pink hair was. And, of course, she had a puppy to show off: a duty the little girl had taken very seriously. But being the center of attention got quite tiring after a while, and now she wanted to fall asleep with the murmur of conversation around her.

Andy couldn't quite blame her. There was something about the setting that seemed safe: their own home, Order members surrounding them, the blizzard a wall of white just outside their window. it almost seemed that their home was an island in a vast sea, secluded and safe. The rise and fall of the waves of conversation must have been lulling, combined with Andy's fingers gently combing through Dora's hair. She was asleep within ten minutes, and Andy was relieved: it gave her a chance to remove herself from the crowd for a moment, to steal some time in peace and quiet. Lifting Dora into her arms, she excused herself with a smile and walked down the hall, moving Dora's door open with her shoulder. Thankfully, none of  the couples from earlier had decided to take refuge here.

The puppy had followed at her heels, and he yawned as Andy settled Dora into bed. He jumped up and placed his front paws on the bed, whining until Andy relented and lifted him up beside the sleeping Nymphadora. He settled in next to her, licked a paw, and set his chin down, looking up at Andy with big brown eyes. She smiled and stroked his head. "Keep her safe, little prince," she said to him. "And don't you dare wake her." Not that there seemed much to worry about, there. The little thing hardly seemed able to keep his eyes open. Andy left the room, locking the door behind her (just in case), and closed it as soundlessly as she could. She rested against it for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, letting herself enjoy the moment of solitude in the middle of everything.

When she opened them again, it was to a pair of eyes meeting her own. 

She jumped, then shook her head.  "Hasn't anyone ever told you that it isn't polite to sneak up on people?" She asked, her voice hushed. The tone was more amused than annoyed, though it had taken something of an effort to make it so. She didn't like being surprised like that at the best of times, and particularly not just now.

[dayorder]

[readinganimal]

Linnea Borealis (Twin flower)