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danaewrites · 4 months

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you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part ii: i wanna hear you speak to me

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.6k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: new year, new chapter! i started writing this one back in SEPTEMBER and finally had enough time away from the terrors of calculus homework to finish it. thanks for reading my story so far and i hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent chapter, because i had way too much fun writing it!! i promise that the angst in this chapter *will* be resolved, but it was too deliciously tempting to resist sprinkling a wee bit of hurt/comfort and dramatics in there as well. sorry not sorry!

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

“I’ve got no bloody clue how Dumbledore can be so energetic all the time,” you groaned, head in your hands as you peeked out at the headmaster’s more-than-slightly manic grin from your seat at the Gryffindor breakfast table. You were far too sleep-deprived to process his latest choice of garish attire: a bright chartreuse robe covered in plaid polka dots, topped off with what appeared to be rhinestones and tinsel attached to his beard.

Perhaps if Kettleburn hadn’t assigned you three feet of parchment on the seventeen glorious properties of dragon dung yesterday and expected it done by this afternoon, you might have appreciated the headmaster’s creative fashion choices– oh, who were you kidding. There really was no understanding that wizard, even properly rested. James and Peter had made a bet during fifth year on how long it’d take Dumbledore to crack under a constant deluge of pranks in his office, but they’d quickly realized that the man was too far gone to do anything but take inspiration for school events– an idea that was quite frankly, comically frightening, and the sort of thing you weren’t keen on pondering on a normal Tuesday morning.

Sirius wrinkled his nose sympathetically and slid the pile of raspberry jam tarts closer to you. “Late night in the library again?”

You nodded sheepishly, gratefully taking a pastry from the pile. “I honestly don’t know why Pince allows me to stay past curfew. Marauder’s luck, I guess?” Your attention was diverted by the sound of hoots and flapping wings as the morning owl brigade arrived, apparently choosing a kamikaze dive-bomb approach to deliver this morning’s newspapers. Ah, the joys of living at the world’s most advanced magical school.

Sirius, ever the epitome of grace, slipped under the table as a rogue owl zipped past, popping himself back up just enough to throw you finger guns. “Exactly right, doll, exactly right,” he grinned. “Trust me, Marauder’s luck gets you everywhere. And I mean everywhere,” he winked, sending you a lecherous smirk.

“Ew, Sirius, I don’t even want to know,” you sniffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after the mental trauma your tales of Dorcas’ birthday adventures inflicted upon my psyche. Please, spare me the details.”

“What? All I meant was Slughorn’s Christmas Party, of course!” He batted his eyelashes angelically, still partially covered by the tablecloth.

Your mouth gaped open in shock. “Last year’s Christmas party? Sirius Orion Black, I refuse to hear another word! What on earth would your ancestors think, with you bragging about such exploits-”

He leaned over, eyes wide with laughter. “No, I meant the one Slughorn is throwing on the 21st, it’s exclusively for us lucky seventh years this time. Although, you bring up some very fond memories… okay, okay, I’ll stop, don’t kick me–”

“What are we kicking Sirius for?” James slid onto the bench across from you, eyeing a groveling Sirius with interest. Peter joined him, but wisely chose to stay away from the ruckus, piling his plate high with the bacon the owls had spared. Remus was noticeably absent, spending the morning resting in the infirmary after a rough night of shifting– which you assumed was much more peaceful than the current chaos at the Gryffindor breakfast table.

“Oh! Good morning, Jamie,” you beamed up at him, passing him the plate of desserts you’d been protecting from Sirius’ nefarious advances. “Morning, dove,” he greeted you, and then paused. “Ha, get it? Morning dove?” He puffed up his chest smugly and nudged Sirius with his elbow in a futile effort to make him laugh. You huffed fondly at his antics. Boys.

Sirius rolled his eyes and took advantage of your momentary distraction, retreating back onto his seat to nurse his wounds– to your ever-growing delight (and Sirius’ woe), you had recently discovered that the Hogwarts girls’ uniform shoes were quite sharp. “At this point we should call you Lames. ‘Cause your puns are lame,” he muttered.

You shooed him away with a brush of your hand, remembering what Sirius had mentioned earlier. “According to Sirius, Slughorn’s hosting a Christmas Party again this year. Let’s pray it won’t be like the last one.” You muttered. James and Peter both looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shuddering in unison. “My tie will never look the same again,” Peter griped, but suddenly sat up straight in his seat. “Hey, wait, we’re finally old enough to bring dates to this one! Without sneaking them in, I mean.”

Sirius snickered and lightly punched his shoulder. “Why, Petey, got some lucky girl in mind?” Peter reddened and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where a certain freckled blonde was chatting with her friends– a move that didn’t go unnoticed by James, who gave a delighted wolf-whistle. “You got a thing for Lucy Abbott, huh? Might want to make a move before Smith does,” he grinned, gesturing to the tall brunette boy who’d just arrived and sharing a knowing smirk with you. You giggled at Peter’s increasingly pouty expression; he’d figure out sooner or later that Smith was definitely not interested in Abbott– or witches in general– but it was entertaining to see him out of his comfort zone. Peter had always been the quietest of your little group, and you privately thought that a bit of momentary romantic angst might spur him to be more assertive. An ironic opinion, considering how your own love life revolved around the fact that your best friend had feelings for someone else… and you couldn’t do anything about it except mope.

Peter scowled. “Easy for you to say, Prongs, you’ve finally got precious Lily-flower wrapped around your finger. I bet you’ve already asked her!”

There it was: another reminder that James wasn’t yours, and never would be. You watched as the Gryffindor boys good-naturedly jostled his shoulder and tousled his curls. James grinned sheepishly, shrugging off their teasing. “Not yet,” he admitted, glancing hopefully at the end of the table, where Lily was chatting with her friends.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on, we all know she’ll say yes this year.” Sirius winced, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced at Sirius, drawn by the movement. “What’ve you got to worry about? Half the population would kill Dumbledore to get one dance with you. The only person who’s got to worry about a date is me– well, and maybe Y/n, I guess.” His face suddenly turned contemplative, looking you up and down. “Are you going with someone?”

Sirius’ grimace became doubly pronounced at Peter’s tactlessness, and you felt your face heating up. Peter had a way of accidentally hitting on the issues others tried to hide. It wasn’t his fault he’d never heard about your trips to Hogsmeade with a paramour– in fact, none of the boys had. Because there hadn’t been any. You’d spent your entire time at Hogwarts pining after James, and as a result had missed the romantic milestones your classmates had already blissfully bragged about.

Peter looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response, and you opened your mouth to confess your lack of experience when you spotted a familiar redhead walking gracefully towards your side of the table– to James, you realized with a start. Something within you ignited as you watched her glow with confidence, carefree and lovely as ever. Lily would never pine after someone uselessly; she knew she could get anyone she wanted with the right amount of banter and flirty gestures. You... Well, you weren’t there quite yet, but maybe it was time to take inspiration from the Muggle saying and ‘fake it til you make it’. And before you could think about what you were about to do, you turned to Peter and smiled coyly. “I might.”

James’ and Sirius’ heads snapped up immediately from their perusal of the breakfast lineup as they let out an identical murmur of surprise. “What?” James furrowed his brow, looking you up and down– seemingly trying to discern whether you had taken a holiday from your senses, most likely via Bludger-induced concussion at the last Quidditch match. Sirius merely raised a questioning eyebrow at you. You groaned internally, knowing that you’d have to explain yourself later… although, if your half-baked idea worked, you’d be spending a lot more time with him anyway. For now, you beamed innocently at both of them and took a sip of your pumpkin juice. Apparently, the Sorting Hat had placed you in Gryffindor for a reason- you were either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to commit to this plan, but with Evans quickly approaching, you saw no other choice.

Peter looked momentarily shocked, then glumly began to assemble an egg and bacon sandwich seasoned with the occasional mutterance of “unfair” and “perpetually single, my arse”.

James’ eyes were still trained on you. “Who is it?” he asked, searching your face again as if he was looking for some indication that you were joking. You shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

“Dove-” he began, but Lily finally reached his seat and placed one stupidly perfect hand on his shoulder, diverting his attention momentarily. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you to her office for Quidditch scheduling.” James blinked, glancing up at her and then at the rest of the table. He stood up and focused on you again, expression clouded. “I’ll see you in Potions, yeah?”

Sirius stood up quickly, ushering him out of his seat with a speed you’d only seen him use to gulp down cheap Firewhiskey. He gave you a significant look. “Actually, Y/n and I were just about to take a walk, isn’t that right? So we'll both see you in Potions, what a sublime coincidence, now don’t be late for your meeting–” he chattered on as he shoved James toward the doors of the Great Hall, the latter eyeing him suspiciously but moving nonetheless. Sirius turned to you and pointed to the courtyard entryway. “You. Me. Talk, as in right now.”

Once you were sure that you’d made it out of earshot of Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table, you wheeled around to face him. “Okay. First of all… I didn’t plan that.” Sirius raised an eyebrow again. “Second of all, I need a favour,” you pleaded, staring up at him with the most adorable doe eyes you could physically summon. They were usually most effective on James, for some reason, but you were sure that Sirius wasn’t immune to your manipulation either. He groaned, resting his face in his hands. “How do you even have a date? Last time I checked, also known as yesterday, you were still head over heels for Prongsie, doll. So do I need to check you for Amortentia or somethi–” He peered out from between his fingers with annoyed realization. “You don’t have a date, do you.”

You blinked innocently up at him. He let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “This is what you need the favour for? You want me to go with you to Slughorn’s party so you can pretend in front of the rest of Hogwarts that you’re not madly in love with Jamie?”

You grinned confidently up at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Aw, Siri, you know me so well. It’s almost as if you were maaaade to be my date for the party...” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him one more time for good measure, trying to hide a smirk. “Alright, alright, stop with the Bambi act, I’ll take you.” He scowled good-naturedly. “You know, this is going to ruin my dating pool for the next month.”

You scoffed. “As if! If anything, you’ll just have more people fawning over you– temptation of the forbidden apple and all, you know.”

Sirius brightened up considerably at this revelation. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the beginning, doll! I vote that we match in purple velvet, it does wonders for my complexion–”

You gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of you and Sirius swanning into the party in some sort of horrendous plum-coloured disco getup, and shooed him away towards the Potions classroom. That was an eyesore to imagine sometime when you weren’t about to get a headache from the dim dungeon lighting.

Slughorn greeted you and Sirius by directing you to the front of the classroom with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oho, a pair of latecomers, I see!” He winked at you and Sirius in exaggerated motion. You winced as Snape jeered and nudged Malfoy, who was busy enjoying Flint’s crude gestures at you. Ugh, Slytherin boys. The worst of the lot. Their snickers were quickly stopped by James chucking a handful of powdered wormwood at their heads when Slughorn turned away, making Malfoy’s prized hair appear covered in soot. You shot him a grateful smile.

“Since you two missed my initial remarks, let’s see if you can make it up by identifying today’s potion, hmm?” Slughorn gestured dramatically to a shimmering green brew in a cauldron next to his desk, cherry-coloured smoke curling off of the top invitingly.

Sirius shot you a panicked look, clearly not expecting to be put in the academic spotlight, but you shook your head and stepped closer. You smelled something rich and incense-like, which meant that Bumburrel leaves were a key ingredient. And combined with the way the smoke was drifting lazily around your wrists, curling higher and higher… “Brew of Mandelian, sir. Used for sharpened acuity under times of pressure.”

Slughorn gave a delighted chuckle and clapped his hands. “Well then! Ten points to Gryffindor for paying attention in lectures!” He dismissed you and Sirius with a wave, moving on to explain the finer points of ingredient preparation to a very bemused George Goyle as you slipped into your usual seat beside James.

You worked in quiet harmony for a moment, methodically slicing and crushing the slippery beetles needed to give the brew its signature green colour while James handed you the insects. He broke the silence after six beetles (not that you had been counting or anything) with an awkward, “So… you have a, erm, date?”

You huffed, motioning for him to hand you the foul-smelling Moorish tubers next. “Honestly, James, is it that surprising?” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Well, I– yeah, I guess.” he trailed off, seeing your expression.

“The tubers, Jamie, thank you. I mean, you looked at me like I was a ghost back in the Great Hall!” You were decidedly not making eye contact with him, trying your best to focus on the slimy plants in front of you and not the fact that your best friend-slash-unrequited crush doubted your romantic potential. What a way to be humbled– and while covered in tuber juice, no less!

He huffed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “Come on, Y/n, it’s not like that. What did Sirius want to talk about in the Great Hall, anyway? You two looked… chummy.”

You glared down at the copper slicing board. “Well, it’s none of your business how chummy we are, is it? I don’t interrogate you every time you converse with Peter. In fact, it’s rather expected that Sirius and I speak to one another on occasion, considering the amount of time we all spend together thanks to you.”

You moved to grab another tuber from the jar, but James reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. His hazel eyes were alight with frustration, a look you knew by heart thanks to the hours you’d spent tutoring him in History of Magic after he napped his way through the entire first semester. “Are you serious? You’re actually going with someone?”

“Please, Jamie, do enlighten me on whyever you think I couldn’t possibly get a date with my numerous and diverse charms,” you sniffed, hoping to Merlin that he would just leave the entire subject alone.

“No, it’s–” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “The other boys, they don’t know how– you’re so, I mean, just look at you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at you. He stopped, frowning to himself, looking more confused than before. He glanced over at Lily, expression becoming even more muddled, brow furrowed and hard to read to anyone but you.

Your mouth parted in shock, and to your dismay you felt tears bubbling up again. You blinked fiercely, refusing to let him see you cry. James thought the issue was… your looks? You suddenly wanted to crawl under Slughorn’s desk and never come out again, except perhaps to find a shovel to dig your grave with. This was far, far worse than watching him transfigure chocolates for Lily every Valentine’s Day. Now you knew for a fact he didn’t find you attractive– thought other boys didn’t either, even! And the way he’d clearly mentally compared you to Lily after what he’d admitted… well. There was no recovering from that. Teenage boys could be dense, but Merlin, how you had wanted him to at least let you down gently.

You wished you’d never opened your mouth to lie about having a stupid date in the first place, but you forced yourself to laugh and mutter something trite about how that could all be fixed with a couple glamour charms anyway so it really wasn’t an issue for the party, thank you very much. He looked even more confused, opening his mouth to respond, but Snape chose that moment to interrupt.

“Hey, Potter!” James turned to scowl at the greasy Slytherin as you thanked your lucky stars for Snape’s interruption (a rather disturbing thought– potentially a harbinger of an imminent apocalypse. You’d never thanked Snape before in your life and hoped to never do it again). “Here’s payback for earlier,” he smirked, checking that Slughorn had dozed off and the other students weren’t paying attention before whipping a mottled yellow bottle at James.

James’ carefully honed Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he quickly dodged the object, but as the vial soared up, up, past your carefully diced tubers, over James’ messy notes, it hit your arms and shattered. You flinched in pain, crying out as the glass shards embedded themselves in your arm and the congealing, repulsive liquid dripped down your hands and onto your thighs. James lunged towards you, but it was too late– the potion had already seeped into your skin, causing an awful sparking sensation.

You gasped, grabbing onto the desk as the feeling bubbled upwards. “Jamie, I don’t– I don’t feel–” you stuttered, suddenly lightheaded, and you heard someone gasp as you began to taste something metallic. You absently touched your nose. Why was it so cold and wet? You had been so careful not to touch your face around those horrid tubers and oh, oh Merlin and Morgana what was that pain in your hands and legs, please no make it go away someone help me help me HELP

You vaguely registered someone whimpering in the background. It might have been you, but you weren’t entirely sure what was happening outside of the electric symphony of agony crescending in your nervous system. The pain built swirled flooded through until you weren’t sure where you ended and the potion began which was a funny thought because of course you were you, but you couldn’t remember who you were before this so you laughed but that really hurt, oh how that hurt no no no no no bad idea–

“Fuck– no–” James? Was he here too?

You blinked– when did your eyes open?– and saw him reach for you, frantically pushing his dark curls off his forehead. Why would he do that? You loved his hair, even when you were feeling funny awful things from the potion. You felt his arms scoop under you, lifting you off your seat as he caught your head from falling back. You heard a door slam open, footsteps, darkness clouding your vision–

His voice. “Sweetheart, no– don’t do that, I need you to keep your eyes open.”

You blinked again, trying to focus on James’ face. He looked pale, jaw set and tensed like it was before his Quidditch games. Were you moving? You couldn’t tell whether James was walking or the hallways were walking around you. He glanced down again, exhaling with relief once he saw whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Keep those pretty eyes focused on me, okay?”

He thought your eyes were pretty?

James gave a tight laugh. “Yeah, I think your eyes are pretty, dove. Hold on a bit longer, we’re almost there,” he choked out.

Oh. Had you said that out loud?

But you thought– he had said something, before, you couldn’t remember now but it was important and it hurt–

Some part of you, deep where the potion hadn’t reached, had melted at his words. That part was tinged with pain, too, but in a different way, raw and honest and hopeful and all for him. Or maybe that was the potion, you were pretty sure witches weren’t supposed to melt unless they were green and lived somewhere much further west, but your thoughts on the whole process evaporated as you reached a white door and a woman and your words started to swirl until they melted too and everything went black.

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zengle56 · 9 months

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Chocolate Covered Strawberries

Summary: George has been away for a week and is needy when he finally comes back

Warnings: Smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral m receiving, insemination? lmao

a/n: thank you so much to hahahafucku for my very first request, I hope this is somewhat what you wanted. this isn't proofread so ignore if there are any misspelled words. i hope you enjoy!

The day with your boyfriend had started out just like any other. You sluggishly trudged to Potions with that cruel Snape first thing in the morning. You particularly hated the class due to being sat next to McLaggen and his nonstop talk about Quidditch which effectively lost you 5 house points every single class with his non-stop chatter. Then, to Transfiguration 2 with McGonagall, not being your worst time of day, having your boyfriend's twin to keep you entertained but not your favorite. Then finally DADA with Mad-Eye, your last dreadful class before lunch.

After a long work-filled lesson about how to kill wizards and witches alike with 5 different types of poisons that will give you a variety of horrid blemishes and boils covering your entire body - you waited patiently outside the class for George to come pick you up. Today you were particularly excited to see him due to the fact that he had been away with his family for about a week, his aunt Pennywhist had passed and his mother insisted on all of her children being there to attend the funeral and grieve. The only peculiar thing was that George said he had never even met his late aunt and noted that he would probably fall asleep during her service.

You wrung your hands together, peeking at your watch as you waited for him, growing more impatient by the minute.

“Oh come on, where is that boy?” You asked yourself, sighing feeling forgotten.

“You mean this boy?” A voice from behind asked as you felt the warm pressure of a hand being pressed against the small of your back. Instant butterflies filled your stomach as his deep voice rang in your ears. Without another word or hesitation you turned around to hug him. Your arms stretched around his thin middle and you squeezed harder than you ever have.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, I don’t think we can be apart for that long.” You complained, your face against his white dress shirt missing the required house tie around his neck. He chuckled, his chest effectively bouncing you around as he did so.

“I don’t think so either love, I missed you too much, besides, it was far too boring without my little troublemaker.” You rolled your eyes pulling back from his chest and smirked at his untrue words.

“No I think you have it twisted, you’re the troublemaker and I’m an angel.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Well there's no doubt about you being an angel.” He smiles softly. The DADA door swung open causing you both to jump, you unintentionally slamming into his body causing a burn to fall over both of your cheeks. He groaned a bit and you had no idea why, guessing that maybe you stepped onto his toe.

“Well get on, it’s time to get to lunch if you want to eat.” A large Mad-Eye grumbled, his large cane slamming into the ground with each step he took.

You both silently took that as a cue to get on walking to the Great Hall for a long awaited lunch together. You had so many butterflies you nibbled your sandwich, afraid of not being able to stomach big bites. George constantly kept a long arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him just enough to be close together but not too tightly as to restrict either of you from eating. You both are in comfortable silence, well silence between the two of you. The Great Hall rang with voices of students of all ages but your main focus was on the bickering Hermione and Ron in front of you.

“Ronald, you can’t just keep relying on me for the answers in Divination!” She slammed her cup harshly, clearly fed up with his cheating ways.

“But Mione, think about it this way, if you help me with the work, we’ll be able to graduate together and stay together.” Ron argued. The couple surprisingly never argued as much as they had while they were still only friends but when they did it got unnecessarily heated at times.

“Shall we go, my love?” A low voice whispered in your ear, once again instantly filling your tummy with butterflies. Nodding, you grabbed your bag, swung it around your neck, waited for George to do the same, and made your exit from the noisy room hand in hand.

George led you into his empty dorm, it looked just as it did as the time you’d been in before just a few weeks ago. The air wasn’t stale as you had feared but comfortable, lived in. It made you feel as you did at the burrow, at home.

“Oh! Before I forget, mum had given me a gift to give to you, it’s from her and dad.” He said, letting go of your hand and kneeling down to scrimmage through his trunk. Walking over to sit on the edge of his bed, your hand smoothing out the quilt Molly had made for his Christmas one year, you heard an audible ‘Aha’! And smiled while turning to look at George holding a small light blue box.

“For my love.” He presented the box as if you were a queen, bowing down his head with his arms outstretched humorously. Delicately taking it from his hands, you set it down in your lap and opened the top, revealing four strawberries covered in a lilac purple chocolate, probably bewitched not to melt, an educated guess due to them being buried in the bottom of George’s trunk.

“They’re beautiful.” You smiled, appreciating the gift.

“Mum made them for the service but later made an extra batch just for you.” He replied, getting off the floor and sitting next to you. The close proximity and the alone environment instantly gave you butterflies again but not just in your tummy, in between your thighs as well. Being apart from him certainly didn’t help the circumstances but they did give you power, in fact, they gave you an idea.

Slowly reaching into the box, you grabbed one of the strawberries in your fingertips and stared directly at it, taking your time licking your lips before bringing it to your mouth, purposefully smearing some of the melted purple goo on your lips before taking a bite. You chewed with purpose and stuck your tongue out slightly to lick the chocolate from your lips. You could see George intently watching you from the corner of your eye, a tent forming in his pants no doubt.

“Mmm it’s so good.” You practically moaned. “Want some?” you offered, finally making eye-contact with your love who was falling apart at the sight of you. He nodded vigorously before you put one of your hands on his thigh, an instant jump coming from your boyfriend. Your eyebrow instantly cocked, surprised at the sensitivity of your touch. “Sensitive?” You asked, watching as goosebumps raised upon his neck and into his shoulder line beneath his shirt.

“It was so hard being away from you.” He mumbled as you bit into half of a strawberry, holding the sweet chocolate covered fruit between your teeth. Leaning forward with intention, he touched his lips to yours, biting into the strawberry and pulling back, chewing as the sweetness of the purple chocolate melted over his warm tongue.

“What’s been so hard?’ you questioned with a smirk, ‘this?” Your hand moved to the growing tent between his legs and immediately a quiet accidental whimper fell from his lips.

You smiled mischievously, knowing full well of the power you hold over him. As much as you wanted to resist, you were just as touch starved as George and you needed to feel the relief of an amazing orgasm you knew he’d be able to provide you. Unable to hold back any longer, you fell to your knees off of the bed and unbuckled his belt, rushing to unzip his zipper and pulling his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

His hard cock sprang against his stomach, his tip angry and red and already leaking precum. Licking your lips, you grabbed the base and smacked his tip against your lips a few times, strings of the sticky precum trailing from his tip. His body shuttered, eyes rolled to the back of his head while one of his hands shot to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair actively pushing your head up and down. You hid your teeth so as not to scratch him, opening your throat to the best of your abilities while he forced you down. You gagged a few times, needing to pull off for a second or two before resuming again, getting seemingly deeper and deeper each time. As the minutes passed, your face was coated with your slobber and his precum, lubing him effectively before you decided enough was enough and you needed him, badly.

“On your back pretty boy,” you say as you push his chest down before stripping off your clothes that seemed way too constricting. Leaving your soaked panties for last, you threw them in his face, him grabbing them with his teeth in turn. He groaned at the taste of your wetness soaking his tongue and his cock perked up as he tasted.

Crawling up his body he reached up to grab your breast that hung in front of his face and feeling generous, you didn’t stop him or make him ask as you usually would. He pinched and pulled your tender nipples causing moans to spill from your puffy lips - they had swelled while sucking your boyfriend's soul from his cock.

“Want you on my cock” he whimpered, carelessly throwing his head back and blinking his eyes rapidly. You flushed at his words but tried your very best to show nothing but confidence and dominance.

“You want me to slam my wet pussy down on your cock?”

“Mmm” was all he could muster out before you complied to his request and sunk your hips down onto his and felt his well-endowed cock fill your hole until it hit your cervix. It painfully stung but you continued on, lowering until you were fully sitting on his erect dick. Using all of your leg strength, you slowly began bouncing yourself up and down, feeling every inch of him filling you with expertise. His hands still pinching your nipples, you felt both of your breaths speeding up, hinting that you were both close to your climaxes.

“Oh fuck Georgie, fill me up.” You moaned and he lowered his hands down to your hips holding them in place while his hips quickly fucked into you, quickly switching your dominance to himself. As he fucked, your skin slapped together, the sound filling the room as well as the bed squeaking.

“I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me Georgie, cum inside my little pussy” you practically scream as he gives a few more fast pumps before cumming deep inside of you, soaking the outside of your cervix with his white sticky ropes. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides made your hand that had moved to your clit move that much faster, inducing your very own orgasm that you had been longing for. As you both caught your breath, you lifted yourself off of his now limp cock that fell shriveled against his pelvic bone while you laid beside him.

“I didn’t realize how starved you really were.” You sighed as you finally caught your breath, an irremovable grin caught on your lips.

“What can I say, I can’t go that long without my angel.” He charmed you with his words and grabbed your face to bring you in for a kiss.

“But no really, don’t ever be gone for that long again.” You say as you grabbed his face pulling away from his intense kiss.

“Ha, I wasn’t planning on it.” He assured, running his hand down your stomach. “Anyways, round two?”

#george weasley x reader #weasley twins #smut #harry potter #x reader

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justcallmefox89 · 4 months

Text

Gale and the Gith: Chapter Seven - Eavesdropping

X'aa'nath starts to come out of his shell and Gale gets jealous.

“Whatcha starin’ at?”

“Ack!” Startled by Karlach’s voice so close to his ear Gale flails about, nearly falling face first into the campfire.

“Easy there!” Karlach catches the back of his tunic and easily hauls him back into a sitting position. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Gale mutters, waving off her apology. “I was distracted.”

“By what?” Karlach follows his line of sight, quickly answering her own question. “Oh! Are you spying on Soldier and Astarion? I want to spy too!”

“Shh!” Gale looks around frantically, making sure no one have overheard. “And I am not spying. I am… satiating my appetite for information.”

“Uh-huh.” The tiefling grins at him, unconvinced. “Curious about Astarion and X’aa’nath’s nightly little gossip sessions?”

Several days ago the group discovered that X’aa’nath is fluent in Elvish. Ever since this revelation he and Astarion have become even closer, sharing secret conversations and giggling at each other’s private jokes and comments.

On one hand, Gale is thrilled that the two most stand-offish members of their party have found a someone to trust and confide in. On the other, less charitable hand, he’s more than slightly aggrieved that X’aa’nath chose Astarion over him. Since the confrontation with Wyll nearly two weeks ago the sorcerer has been even more closed off, keeping close to Lae’zel and Astarion and trying his best to avoid Gale all together.

Gale shrugs in response to Karlach’s question, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Aren’t you?”

“Not as much as you,” she replies, smirking. “But if you really want to know… Hey, Shadowheart!”

The wizard glares at her as she excitedly waves the cleric over.

“Something the matter?” Shadowheart asks, settling down on the ground next to them.

“We’re spying on Astarion and X’aa’nath and we need your help.”

“We are not spying!” Gale insists. “We’re just… curious.”

The cleric gives him the same unimpressed look Karlach had earlier. “And why are you so curious, Gale?”

He flushes under the women’s inquiring gazes, toying with the earring in his left ear as he considers how to respond. His interest in the gith sorcerer has crossed over from purely academic to something entirely more… intimate. How many nights has he lain awake, alone in his tent, fantasizing about taking X’aa’nath in his arms and… Gale shakes away the thought, shifting and adjusting himself to make sure his growing desire isn’t obvious to the two sitting next to him.

“Never mind,” Shadowheart says, smirking at him knowingly. “I think I understand now.”

“So what are they saying?” Karlach urges impatiently, batting her eyelashes at Shadowheart.

“Hush, you,” the half-elf replies, fighting back a smile and blushing prettily.

Perhaps I’m not the only one harboring illicit feelings for a fellow party member.

Astarion’s throaty laughter draws Gale out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see the vampire smiling and shaking his head at something X’aa’nath has said, gently poking the younger man with a hairbrush before returning his attention to the gith’s waist-length hair. X’aa’nath smiles shyly, obviously pleased by Astarion’s reaction, and closes his eyes in pleasure as the rogue works the brush through his hair.

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose, now they’re brushing each other’s hair?” Gale groans in irritation, a flash of jealousy overtaking him.

“Come on, Shadowheart, put the man out of his misery,” Karlach says, glancing at him sympathetically. “What are they talking about?”

Shadowheart motions for them to be quiet, tilting her head to the side and straining to hear over the noises of the camp. She wrinkles her nose in concentration, frowning a bit as she catches a stray word or two. She eventually gives up, shrugging slightly.

“So?” Gale prods her, trying to rein in his impatience.

“They’re just talking about Rolan.”

“Rolan? The apprentice wizard, Rolan?” Karlach asks, grimacing as if she’s bitten into something sour.

Gale frowns in solidarity. His fellow wizard has a rather prickly personality, and hadn’t really endeared himself to the members of their group with his foul attitude.

“What are they saying about him?”

“Astarion is just teasing him. Apparently X’aa’nath spoke to Rolan alone today. And not to threaten him.”

The trio share a look. For X’aa’nath to voluntarily seek out an outsider for conversation is unheard of.

But why wouldn’t he? Rolan is young, obviously talented- judging by his apprenticeship with Lorroakan, and attractive.

Something sour churns in Gale’s stomach, and his earlier jealousy returns, flaring stronger than before. He stands, forcing a smile. “I think it’s time I turn in for the evening. Thank you Shadowheart, for indulging us in this little endeavor.

Karlach sighs, watching Gale’s retreating figure as he slips inside his tent. “Damn,” she murmurs sadly.

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ashdreams2023 · 2 years

Text

Stupid smile

Summary: as the years pass your love for severus never changes and only blooms beautifully with each passing day

Severus snape x reader

Tagging: @crimson25 @santa-carla-boardwalk-1987

Severus knew you were trouble the second you opened your mouth in his third year attending hogwarts.

"What?" He glared or tried to, his features were still a little too soft to look intimidating at the time and for his defense many students harassed him as it is.

"Calm down snakling I don’t bite, unless you want me too" you gave a stupid smile, a smile he didn’t know he’ll eventually grow some sort of adoration towards.

Severus likes to think you forced your friendship upon him but the team projects and pulling each other from dumb situations because both had a wicked tongue and didn’t know when to shut up at times, did not help his case at all.

"Sev I think I’m gonna die" you leaned dramatically against him, he sighed and kept reading over his notes.

"You’re so boring! Come on, all you do is study or hang out with your little gang" you huffed, raising an brow in a manner similar to the way he looks at you when he’s suspicious you’re up to no good.

"Get new friends then" he replied but quickly regretted it when you gave him that smile again, that stupid smile "what is wrong you?!"

You leaned forward pushing his notebook down, your noses almost touching "you called me your friend!"

Oh how severus wished he could hate you.

"Whatever…."

Your little friendship had become one of the things that kept him sane for long but that didn’t change the path he took, especially after everyone started pulling you away after what he called lily.

After the second war, and when he started teaching again he met you again, you’ve spent some time studying outside the country to be a healer.

Upon seeing that smile again he felt like a teenager again, too young to be a man but too old to be a child.

"I would call you snakling but you’re an old man now, also I’ve heard they call you dungeon bat now" severus couldn’t help but snort at that, he sure missed you.

"I fear for my life if you’re the new nurse around"

You rolled your eyes playfully, placing your hands on each side of your hips you said "for your information, many wizards and witches were fans of my wand work"

"You failed potions three times" he smirked.

You patted your eyelashes at him "but thanks to your helpful ass I passed at the fourth try" severus sighed again but found himself getting a little warm in the face when you went in for a hug, which he gave back awkwardly. He’s always been awkward when it came to physical affection but oddly enough he craved more of where that came from.

It didn’t take long before the other staff members noticed the way he acted around him and how you much like your school days weren’t afraid to spit out some remark that never fails to get a reaction from him.

"It appears like he inhaled fumes-"

"Not to interrupt your professional diagnosis but I can see that by the way he’s coughing!"

"Just hurry!"

Severus doesn’t exactly know when he was confident about feelings about you, he just knew he was comfortable, comfortable enough to express himself openly to you.

It was Christmas when he had asked you out, after a rough night of giving stomachache potion to most of the students who over did with the sweets and helping you clean the hospital wing when poppy went to rest.

"Took you long enough, I thought I’ll have to be Slytherin’s personal nurse before that ever happens"

"I-….So dinner?"

"Pick me at 8 dungeon bat" then you kissed his cheek.

Being in love with you was an experience, both filling and keeping him on his toes most days.

Even when potter came and things just started happening each year by by the end of it and nearing the start of the second war, he decided to do something he would rather do now unless he wants to regret not doing it the rest of his life.

On the night after the first meeting with the death eaters, he took you to his home and told you everything that had been running in his mind before finally going on one knee.

"Will you marry me?"

"I’m a dumbass but I’ll be crazy if I said no to you"

Severus rose to his feet and pulled you into a deep kiss.

"You just made me the happiest man alive"

You were the only reason he kept on fighting, the only reason he put a stopper to his own death.

"You know, I think a snake tattoo would look cool over that scar" that was the first you said to him after waking up in the hospital.

He was glad he lived.

After everything he got married to you, his coworkers and old teachers all came, along with some of his students and not just the Slytherins.

And even after many years he looks at the wedding picture sitting beside an older picture of both of you in school uniforms, with that same stupid smile of yours.

"Come on old man it’s not time for your nap"

"Will you ever give me a break?"

"Severus I love you but we both know your life would be boring without me" you smiled.

He smiled back.

He felt complete.

#imagine #severus snape x y/n #severus x reader #pro severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape x reader #severus snape #fanfic #harry potter fandoms #harry potter fandom #harry potter requests #professor severus snape

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sailtomarina · 6 months

Text

A Christmas Wish for Two (Blaise, Not Included)

Draco x Hermione | @hp-yuletide-bliss Day 5: “Do you even hear yourself?!” | WC 1489 | Rating: M (very brief sexual humor)

“Pretty please?”

She batted her eyelashes in her best imitation of every other witch she’d seen, but Draco had also seen it all. His jaw tightened and he continued to stare down at her with a frosty gaze. He looked like some kind of ice king with his sharp features and pale coloring, but the effect was partially ruined by the spot of fudge at the corner of his mouth.

“Absolutely not.”

He scowled when she reached up to swipe the chocolate off his face, but his eyes softened as she proceeded to lick the confection off of her fingertips. Hermione had tried to butter him up by treating him to a new chocolate cake recipe she’d gotten from Pans. As expected, the man had inhaled the slice she’d cut him in as few bites as possible for someone with impeccable manners like his.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” she purred, sliding her palms up his chest to thread her fingers into his hair. She admired the flex in his chest, the heavy swallow that revealed how affected he was by her even after years together as a couple. A gentle tug to the nape of his neck had him bending forward, lips reaching for purchase. Surely, she had him now.

But, of course not. He brushed right past her attempted kiss to murmur into her ear. “I am not spending Christmas Day with the Weasel.”

“Draco!” she smacked him for emphasis. “Do you even hear yourself? You hate it when Ronald says ‘ferret’, so you should know better than to keep up that childish insult.”

He retaliated with a nip to the lobe of her ear, then swirled the tip of his tongue against the sensitive spot just behind it. Hermione’s knees buckled at the sensation, and it was only his arms wrapped around her waist that prevented her from collapsing against him.

“I,” nip, “don’t,” lick, “care,” nibble, “what he,” bite, “says.” He sucked hard against the crook of her neck at the last word, leaving what would undoubtedly be a dark bruise.

Even if it was true that he didn’t retaliate anymore to verbal jabs, that didn’t mean she condoned the name-calling between what was essentially two of her favorite families–the Weasleys and, by relation, former Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, on one side, and her boyfriend and his circle of former Slytherins on the other. Their Hogwarts days were far behind them, and the years had proven progressive with several measures passed to improve Muggle-Wizarding relations and ensure equal rights for magical creatures and beings. Morale was high and the future looked promising.

If only Hermione could get her loved ones all in one place.

She wasn’t quite ready to fully explain to Draco why it was so important to her to connect what essentially felt still like strongly opposing forces. They’d been dating for long enough that she was starting to want more, and that meant reconciliation if they were going to someday take that next step.

So when Harry and Ginny invited Theo Nott into their relationship, she wholeheartedly supported them. If anyone could convince Draco to relent on his isolationist stance, it was Theo.

“Don’t you want to support your best friend’s relationship? It will be Theo’s first Christmas at the Burrow. I’m sure he’d appreciate having you be there, if only so you can both brood handsomely by the fireplace.”

She yelped at the swift swat to her tush, the sting quickly subsiding to a pleasant warmth.

“I knew you had a thing for Theo,” he teased her.

She hummed in agreement, but wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

“Theo’s fit, but I think Blaise might be more my type. I bet he wouldn't be adverse to coming along for the entertainment.”

Her boyfriend jerked backwards to narrow his eyes at her, and she fought back a giggle to school her expression into one of genuine interest. Draco might control himself well enough around others, but with her, he had very little restraint. She could read every twitch of his eyes and lips.

“Are you expressing your interest in Blaise?” he asked incredulously. “You do realize he’s just as infamous as his mother is, don’t you?”

“Well, you’d be there, too, I hope, to make sure things don’t get…dangerous.” She shrugged her eyebrows suggestively and nearly burst out laughing at the nearly constipated look he got as he swelled up in indignation.

“Absolutely not! We are not inviting Blaise of all people into our bedroom. Theo, maybe–”

Hermione made note of that admission. She’d revisit it another day if everyone was amenable.

“—but, frankly, I don’t want anybody but you.”

Her heart fluttered at the declaration. Should she just tell him her real reason for wanting to go?

They hadn’t strictly spoken about marriage to one another just yet, though certain suggestive futures had been tossed out at seemingly random times. Things like, “oh, wouldn’t that be a lovely home to grow into?” and what was undoubtedly a bit of a breeding kink nearly every time they made love. That was a part of their relationship that had also never faded, only increasing in fervor as time went on.

“I don’t actually want anybody else, either, Draco,” she confessed, her hand sliding forward to brush a thumb across his lips.

“Then let’s just spend the day together like we usually do, just the two of us, that damn cat, and all of the horrid eggnog you’d like.”

She was so, so, tempted to cave. A day just for them to curl up together sounded perfect, actually. If it were literally any other day, she’d say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.

Hermione gazed up into his eyes, taking in the way his eyebrows sloped downward in a plea, how the curve of his lips perfectly fit his angled jaw sharp enough to cut glass, the way his platinum locks nearly fell into his eyes when he angled down to look at her, which was often. Not once in their relationship had she ever felt neglected or unloved. He could drive her spare, yes, had a terrible habit of leaving his dinner plate at the table and walking away like he expected their nonexistent Elves to take care of cleaning up, and dogeared his books no matter how many bookmarks she discreetly placed everywhere.

She couldn’t imagine a future anymore without him in it–he filled her heart, tethered her soul, and challenged her mind every single moment of every single day. She realized she didn’t tell him how much she loved him nearly enough.

“I love you,” she whispered, “and, I want all my other loved ones to see just how much, so that when the time comes, they’ll be there for us when we announce it in the most binding way possible.” Her heart pounded low in her ears like a heavy drum.

His face transformed with each word, the playful pout fading as his lips parted and breath stuttered. He sucked in air and blinked rapidly. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

She huffed a laugh but quickly stifled it at the look that passed over his face. “Not officially, no, but I am voicing my intention for the future. It could be as soon as tomorrow. It could be a year from now, maybe even ten. Whenever we’re both ready.”

The brief wrinkle in his brow smoothed away as his mouth finally curved upward. This time it was he that cupped her face in his cool hands to scan what felt like every single feature of her face from her chin to the top of her curly head. She wouldn’t be surprised if he knew exactly how many freckles numbered there given the amount of times he’d stared at her in just the same manner.

“I suppose I ought to make peace, then, if I want my Christmas wish to come true.”

Did he mean what she suspected?

“I’ll come with you to the Burrow,” he continued, “as long as you make sure to come save me at a moment’s notice, our usual signal.”

“You don’t expect me to stick to your side the whole time?” she said teasingly, remembering how he’d requested just that at past gatherings with her friends.

He shook his head, fingers tightening slightly against her jaw. “I’m a reformed wizard with a happy future on the line. I better act like it.”

Finally, he bent down to her, nose brushing against hers on one side, then the other, just a whisper of his lips playing atop hers before he sucked the lower, lathing his tongue across the surface before deepening the kiss. One hand slid into the thick of her hair, gripping firmly in a possessive claim, one she adored and reciprocated in kind whenever possible, which, if wishes did indeed come true this year, would be everyday for the rest of their lives.

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

He absolutely does mean what she suspects. My imagination has him asking her to marry him Christmas morning, which he'd meant to do even before this discussion.

What do you think their secret signal is? Perhaps a debonair brush of his hair? A key phrase loudly said?

#dramione #harry potter fanfiction #dhr fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy #hp yuletide bliss #christmas hp fest

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siriuslystargazing · 7 months

Text

Sirius' Moving Castle PT1

... yeah i know it's probably been done before but what the hell.

In a small town, hidden amongst the valley, is a boy who makes shoes. These shoes are nothing special, but the boy tirelessly works on seven pairs a day unless he feels life broguing, and then it’s five pairs that day. But today, the boy made six and a pair of brown boots for himself. Simple in style but a perfect fit for himself. The boy looked out the window of the luxurious department store his mother owned, dusting off his hands and pulling up his goggles; soot from the fire pit left an ashen impression that covered his freckles but highlighted his amber eyes. His hair flopped around like a mop, and his mother was starting to nag at him. He did need a haircut, and it was the first Friday of the month, so that meant it was a half day.

“Remus dear”, the motherly voice came through from the grand shop floor, followed by a plain woman with chestnut hair. He opened the door to his tiny workshop. “oh good, you're getting ready. I want you to drop off this hat to Lily at the bakery.” her name was Hope. Hope Lupin, the local seamstress who fashioned the most exquisite dresses from the simplest of materials and the owner of Lupin’s Bazaar, the quality department store and hidden gem of the little village hidden away in the valleys. Remus looked at his mother, smiling. Remus thought he was plain like his mother, with sandy blond curls and amber eyes freckles that glittered on his face.

“Of course, I was thinking I might go to the barbers this afternoon to get my hair sorted.” Remus pulled the ribbons of his apron, shrugging it off and hanging it on the hook by the door. Hope held her son’s face in her hands, her heart melting at how Remus was growing older and into his face. “What?” Remus looked down at his new boots, letting a nervous chuckle slip,

“Nothing, Fy mab.” Hope planted a kiss on his forehead. She let him go, handing over the elaborate hat box to Remus as he left the shop.

The brass bell on the front shop door chimed in exit, but Hope did not let Remus leave without warning. “Do be careful on your way home, Remus. I heard news that the Dark Wizard Black is in the valleys!”

Remus rolled his eyes and bid his mother farewell, entering the streets. He wasn't sure why his mother would warn him the Dark Wizard didn’t go for men. He only kidnapped pretty girls with no brains. Remus winced. He could feel the scolding his mother would give if he said that out loud, but it was a half-truth. Remus hated girls like that who just giggled and curled their hair around their fingers and batted their eyelashes at him. He wasn’t even into girls, but still, he would at least like to hold a conversation with them on more exciting topics. That’s why he liked going to see Lily. She was smart and enjoyed talking about the mysteries of the world.

Remus continued down the street. Colourful bunting hung from the lamposts, and streamers were being fired off. The kingdom’s flag was flown from nearly every window and in front of horrible flying machines the domain felt so proud of investing in. It appeared The war effort was going well. A fresh batch of soldiers had just returned a few hours before, and another was about to be dispatched, but not without the pomp and circumstance. Remus saw it as a massive waste of time and money. The war was pointless over some missing prince and this war-hungry general from way up north fighting with the Wizard of the Wastes. Remus didn’t care for the politics of it all. He just wanted it over. In his eyes, if the great Kingdom of Griffdom had put the efforts and resources they did for the war into finding the Lost prince, he would have been found by now! Remus stayed on his path, avoiding the crimson and gold soldiers and drunken patriots. Heading down a secluded alleyway, it wasn't any better. He could see the piles of ready-to-go packs and guns of the soldiers; it made him feel uneasy, but still, the bakery was just around the corner–

“You look a little lost?” a gruff older voice called out from behind Remus. He stopped suddenly tensing as a second, much older man appeared in front of him, a bushy moustache and a hungry grin on his face as he met Remus’ amber eyes.

“I’m not lost”, Remus stated, straining himself up. “if you don’t mind, I'm running late–”

“He is quite cute.” the moustached man bent down to look at Remus in the eyes. Remus was tall, a good 6 foot, but he was skinny like a noodle and had terrible posture like one, too. The soldiers were also tall but stocky, just vast masses of men. “You look a little thirsty. Why don’t we treat you to some Tea?” he asked, his primal grin unnerved Remus even more. Remus wasn’t one to baulk at the sign of danger, but the men that were harassing him felt an unhuman sort of evil festering inside them. Remus stepped back into a body.

“There you are, starlight; I’ve been looking everywhere for you”, a sultry voice, and a warm, comforting hand fell onto Remus's shoulder. Remus didn’t turn to look at the man that was essentially saving his ass but instead melted slightly.

The crimson soldiers soured at the presence of their prey being stolen. “do you mind? We were just –”

“Actually, it looked like you two were just leaving”, his silken voice spoke out again, and he lifted his index finger. The soldiers puffed out their chests, ready to fight, but stopped. Remus looked on in awe as the two men stood up straight and marched away like toys. Remus watched on in amazement. It was magic, real magic, so that meant only one thing: the man who was currently rescuing him was Sirius Black, the Dark Wizard. “Don’t hold it against them; the soldiers from this kingdom aren’t as bad... Now, where to?” Sirius bent down, picking up the hat box Remus so carelessly dropped; it really was him; with blond hair and steely grey eyes, he didn’t suit being a blond. Remus thought his complexion was too pale. He would be better with jet-black hair. Wait? Why did he even care?

“So where to?” gods above his voice were like melted chocolate. Remus wanted to combust every time the Dark Wizard Sirius Black opened his stupid mouth…

“Oh, the um bakery.” Remus was sure he was blushing. His face felt hot. Sirius just smirked, slinking his arm with Remus and walking along the alleyway. His aggressively bright coat hung on his shoulders; obviously, it was kept there with his dark wizard magic. And then his waist. Remus was staring, and he didn’t care. He was also drooling a little at how Sirius's black high-waisted dress pants and a simple white frilly dress shirt hugged his slutty waist and fit him so perfectly. Then he saw his shoes… oh.

They were worn and not looked after, in dire need of a polish, and the leather needed rehydrating. They were abysmal. They–

“Everything all right there?” Sirius drawled, capturing Remus’ attention again

“YES!” to loud! “Yes, it’s just your shoes, you might need new ones… if you come by the shop, I can–”

“Thank you starlight, but I must–” Sirius stopped, sensing a shift in the air. Remus just watched him. “Don’t get alarmed, but it appears we are being followed.” Remus went rigged, followed! But Sirius just smirked as they continued down the alleyways. “Just act normal.”

Something began oozing out of the walls; they morphed and slobbered across the floor, coating the cobbles in the dark, inky sludge as they manipulated themselves with human-like features, Giant noses and little straw hats. Sirius frowned but continued, “I’m sorry, it looks like you’re involved.” Remus gasped as many black oozy creatures slithered out the walls and shadows climbing over each other towards Remus and Sirius.

Sirius quickly whipped round the corner with casual grace, the sunlight beaming into the alleyway. His smile wiedend, but Remus scoffed. How can he be so happy? It is horrible being chased around by slimy, oozy creatures! And now the creatures were oozing out from the exit. They were doomed; Remus looked over to Sirius, who was still beaming with pride as he swiftly moved the arm he had linked with Remus’ through his waist, drawing him closer to his side. “Hold on”, Sirius muttered as they continued walking with speed and Woosh!

Remus closed his eyes and felt the calm spring wind and the sudden warm embrace of the sun. he peeled his eyes open, not feeling the solid ground underfoot, but could still feel Sirius' tight grip on his waist. Remus looked out, shocked; he could see the rolling hills of the valley and the river that splits into a stream that runs through town, even the noon train! He was flying!

“Come on now, straighten your legs and start walking.” Sirius grabbed Remus' hand in his; Remus slowly extended his legs and began a walking motion; they were walking on air! But how? Remus looked down at the waltzing people; mothers danced with their sons and husbands, and young lovers waltzed for the final time as the music played out. Remus couldn’t describe the feeling, but a little bit of his heart broke at the sight, the thought of the men going out to the awful war never to return–

“Look at you, you’re a natural.” Sirius looked at Rmeus as they met eye to eye. Remus felt his heart fluttered as he lost himself in those stormy grey eyes. The two continued to walk on air, swiftly passing the street parties below and towards the giant bakery.

Sirius landed on the railing of the balcony. Pulling Remus down gently, landing just below him, Remus finally got a moment to drink the handsome stranger who saved his life. He was gorgeous, just like the rumours said, with grey eyes that swirled like storms and blond hair that shimmered in the sun, with a mole under his right eye, sharp features and a constant smirk he was the Dark Wizard but how can someone so evil be so good looking? Remus let Sirius’ pale hand slip from his, and he landed on the oak wood balcony. Sirius handed over the hat box and laid his hand above his heart.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to draw them off, but wait a while before heading out again”, his voice silken and smooth, so intoxicating. Remus swore he could get drunk on it even if he just sang the alphabet.

“Okay”, Remus sighed. Sirius smirked, jumping off the balcony; Remus gasped, leaning over.

“That's my boy”, he smiled, disappearing into the streets below.

The bakery was busier than ever. Lily was used to mad rushes like this, but it was even more active than expected, thanks to the street parties. The tables in the small cafe were all occupied by soldiers and their entourage of women and men. Lily went back and forth, listening to orders, grabbing perfectly wrapped boxes of business from the shelves and trying to distance herself from the more suggestive men who only wanted her and not the pastries. Luckily, one of the other bakery girls ran over to her, telling her that Remus was upstairs waiting on her.

Lily sped through the corridors and up the staircase to find Remus looking out the window as if he was searching for answers.

“Remus!” Lily cheered, running up to him and embracing the skinny boy in a tight hug. “One of the girls told me you landed on our balcony!” Remus looked at Lily. Something sad hid in his eyes.

“So it really did happen. It wasn't a dream?” Remus whispered. Lily hugged him again, pulling him down the stairs and into the delivery room behind the kitchen.

Lily dusted off a few crates, sitting Remus down. He was still dazed as if he was running through what had happened, and then he remembered the hat box.

“Oh! Your hat, Lily, Here.” He handed it over. Lily smiled but did not open it. She just set it down.

“Will you tell me what happened?” she grabbed a few pastries from the kitchen, and a chef followed her with two mugs of sweet tea; they sat for a few minutes as Remus gave her the rundown of his encounter with the Wizard. Lily listened intently, her eyes fixated on her friend as he looked at the bottom of his teacup.

“He must have been a wizard then Remus!” Lily protested, grabbing Remus' shoulders

“But he was so kind to me, Lily.”

“Of course he was! He was trying to steal your heart!” Lily scrunched up her face, but Remus still stared out towards the piled stock boxes. She sighed. “you were so lucky, Remus. If that Wizard were Sirius, he would have eaten it”, Lily softened, slumping back, but Remus looked up at her.

“No, he wouldn’t. Sirius only eats the hearts of beautiful girls, not plain boring men like me.”

“Don't say that!” Lily shrieked, “You need to be more careful out there. The wizard of the waste is back on the prowl. And his horrible henchmen, too, call themselves Death Eaters such a pretentious name– Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Lily looked down at Remus, who was lost in deep thought, probably thinking about the pretty wizard who saved him (he was).

Lily and Remus sat in the stock shed for a while until one of the chefs told her some fancy pastry was done, so Remus took that as his cue to leave; he was sure he had given himself plenty of time for the Wizard to get rid of throes horrible oozy blob men. Remus bid Lily farewell and went on his way back through the once-crowded streets. The Parties had finally ended, yet a few piss-ups continued in the teaveners. Remus contemplated a drink but decided just to go home; he had enough excitement to last him a lifetime.

By the time the tram took him back to the shopping district of the town, night had fallen across the valley, and the stars peaked through the clouds. Remus always stole a glance at the stars; he loved how pretty they looked, and the vibrant blue-green hues the clustered ones emitted were his favourite. He couldn’t quite grasp why he was so fond of the night sky or why he enjoyed tracking moon cycles. He honestly believed in a past or alternate life; he might have been a werewolf or something. Remus chuckled at the thought, his breath curling the cool spring air.

The shop lights were out, an obvious sign Hope had gone to bed upstairs. Remus decided to go through the main entrance so he wouldn't disturb his mother; the shop was grand in design. The main floor was full of women's hats, and just at the back were the shoes, all the boots that Remus had made that month; he looked down at the new pair he had made just that day, smiling at the thought of his father being proud of him. Lyall had gone to war two months prior, but no word had come from him. Hope stayed strong and ironically hopeful, but Remus was sure his father was dead; it was easier to think that than torture himself with the idea he was missing in action. Remus tidied the shop floor up, putting hats back on the stands and pulling a few pairs of boots down to give them a touch of polish when the bell rang from the front door. Remus furrowed his brow, looking up. He could have sworn he locked that door. Remus got up, heading to the front desk. Standing in the foyer, grinning ear to ear with gnarly teeth and a beastly face, was a Death Eater. Remus schooled his features to a neutral calm. He could hazard a guess as to what dark magic the Death Eater had used might have involved heightened animalist traits if he went off the strange maw-shaped mouth and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, the shop is closed. You’re more than welcome to visit tomorrow during our opening hours of 9 am to 4 pm,” Remus stated, keeping his cool; the beastly Death Eater grinned, baring his disgusting teeth.

“What a tacky shop... And yet you’re by far the tackiest thing here,” she growled. Remus narrowed his gaze, keeping his temper in check as he marched over to the door, whipping up the air around the Death Eater. His foul smell made Remus’ eyes water as he pulled the door open.

“Like I said, we're closed!”

Death Eater held his smile as if he had just caught his next meal. “Standing up to the Beast of the wastes, Fenrir Greyback”, Fenris chorteled. He unsheathed his clawed hands, and the firelight from the oil lamp danced across his black fingernails; Remus stood his ground. Just because Greyback, the beast from the western wastes and loyal Death Eater to the Wizard of the Wastes, was threatening him didn’t make him cower didn’t mean he wasn't scared shitless either way.

Remus stood his ground, but Greyback didn’t care. He widened his eyes as dark magic flowed through and as if he turned into smoke. Greyback ran through Remus, leaving a viscous curse in his wake. Remus gasped at the feeling. He turned to see Greyback in the doorway, smirking. “The best thing about that spell is you can’t tell anyone about it.” Greyback grinned. “Riddle sends his regards to the Brothers Black.”

Remus dropped to the ground, his body weak and heavy. He tried to run after Greyback but felt he had no energy left in him. Whatever that curse was, it obviously wasn't good. Remus pulled himself up, groaning. His bones creaked, clicked and popped worse than ever. He stumbled over to the vanity mirror, peering at his reflection, but an old withered man, a much older greyer version of Lyall, stared back at him. Remus gasped, taking a step back. Indeed, it wasn't him. Surely, he wasn't an old man. He was 18 years old, for god's sake.

Remus thought this couldn’t be happening. Perhaps it was just a bad dream or a funny hallucination from all the sugar at the bakery. Remus lifted his wrinkled hands to his face, pulling at his leathery skin; it was definitely him in that mirror. On the bright side, he wasn't a dog or a wolf-shaped man. He was glad about that. Remus paced around as much as his old legs would let him; in his mind, he was still 18, but his body was pushing 90, it seemed. The only thing he could think of doing was to go to bed to sleep and hope he woke up himself and not an old man. So Remus did.

#wolfstar #marauders #marauders fic #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #howls moving castle #AU fic #fan fiction #long fic #xSIRIUS' MOVING CASTLE

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kikidoesfanfic · 5 months

Text

Island Demogorgon Daily

Demogorgon daily prompt Isand for the @strangerthingswritersguild discord

On Ao3 here

---

"Maybe we can go on a holiday," Steve says, head leaning back against the wall of the boat house. "After all this is done, we deserve a break right?"

"Hm? A holiday?" Eddie scoffs, "not all of us are rolling in it Harrington."

"Yeah, because Family Video pays me a fortune," he rolls his head to look at Eddie, sees him looking at him sceptically. "My parents didn't love that I wasn't accepted by the college they wanted, they don't even pay the utilities any more dude they haven't been home since..." it takes him a moment to place it, they'd stopped in twice in '83 to pick up clothes, more of his mother's jewellery, that sort of thing. "They haven't been in the house for more than a day or two at a time since long before junior year when all this stuff started."

"Well. That's a bummer, way to bring down the mood," Eddie says, but the corner of his mouth is lifted, like he's teasing.

"Oh sorry, we can go back to talking about evil wizards and demo creatures if you want?" He jokes back.

"You know, you guys still haven't told me everything from the beginning, maybe you could?" Eddie hesitates before adding, "maybe not tonight, though. It's already hard enough to sleep in this place."

"Good idea, this place is..." Steve grimaces as he looks around, the boathouse hasn't been very well maintained, broken boards around the place and water damage rotting through. It creaks with even the slightest gust of wind in a way that makes them both flinch, sitting in the dark on high alert and listening out for anyone coming closer. The way it keeps sending his heart rate up hasn't been fun. "I wanted to move you to my place, but I was outvoted."

"Aw Harrington, concerned about little ol' me out here all alone?" Eddie bats his eyelashes, swooning with the back of his hand against his forehead into Steve's side, a long line of heat in the cold.

"I'm here, aren't I?" He leans into Eddie in return when he doesn't pull away, he wouldn't want to be alone here, so he won't leave Eddie here by himself either.

"Yeah, you are." Eddies smile goes soft, more genuine, "so, you mentioned a holiday? Where are you taking me?"

"I don't know, I was thinking something easy, drive across the country, have a road trip, see the sights."

"See the sights? Go for a drive?" Eddie says flatly, "wow you're really swinging for the fences there, big ambition on you."

"Oh yeah? Well where would you go then?" Steve huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I wanted to see the world, travel to new places. I always thought one day the band would take off, and we'd tour and then I'd be able to go anywhere I wanted." He looks sort of wistful, sad, so Steve has to interrupt.

"I mean it still could take off, I only heard you guys the one time, but you're not bad." Eddie slouches down a little further, so he can tip his head back and look at Steve upside down.

"Not bad? High and lofty praise from the king there, and-" he sits up, turning to face Steve properly with his jaw dropped, "wait when did you see us play?" Steve can't say he isn't enjoying the shocked look on Eddie's face.

"At The Hideout? I can't really remember any of the songs but I do remember thinking you were good." Eddie takes a moment to gather himself after that, exaggeratedly lifting his jaw up with his hand and flopping dramatically back into Steve's side.

"Well I never," he says, talking like some sort of southern belle from a movie, fanning himself with his hand. "Not only are we not bad, but good even, and I thought you were gushing before, I'm gonna catch a case of the vapors, I may faint right here."

"Such a dork," Steve says, shaking his head and shoving Eddie off, though not quite able to smother down the smile at his antics. "So that's it then? World tour, your name in lights, and adoring fans? Doesn't really sound like a holiday though, it sounds like work."

"Depends how all of this goes I guess, it's funny, being hunted by a mob makes crowds chasing me down and having no privacy seem even less appealing."

"We'll go somewhere quiet, then," Steve says matter of fact. "Some island somewhere with a deserted beach to lay on and drink out of coconuts with a straw, no other people in sight."

"Coconuts huh? I could maybe get behind that, you'd have to promise to help me rub sunscreen on my back though, this delicate skin is not meant for direct sunlight." He says it all sly, leaning back in towards Steve like he expects him to pull back, recoil and make a joke of it. Steve maybe chooses another direction, leaning in himself with a smirk.

"If you want my hands all over you so badly all you gotta do is ask, Munson." He watches Eddie blink, face getting redder in increments until he pulls back and thumps his head against the wall.

"Don't start things you aren't willing to follow through on, Stevie," Eddie says, voice gone just a little mean like he thinks he's being made fun of, "you'll get a boy's hopes up."

"I've been told I'm pretty reliable these days, actually," Steve says, "stick around and I'll prove it." Eddie turns to stare at him, stare hard like he's looking right into Steve's soul to judge his sincerity. Steve lets him look his fill, he might not have noticed Eddie like this while they were at school together, more in an offhanded 'I'm envious that guy can be so himself' kind of way, but in the last year things have changed. Taking the kids back and forth to hellfire and catching glimpses of Eddie in his element, hearing all the kids stories, and then seeing him up on stage like that, all passionate and wild and free.

Anyone would be hard pressed not to crush on the guy after that.

"Alright, sure thing Sweetheart, if we both make it out of this we'll go have an island holiday, and you can prove it." He looks at Steve, eyes glittering with mirth, like he doesn't quite believe Steve but he's willing to play along for the bit. That's okay though, Steve will show him.

Ugh he's gonna have to ask Robin which islands are good islands to holiday on isn't he. She's gonna ask him why and then be utterly merciless.

Oh well, he thinks, eyes locked onto Eddie's silly little smirk. It'll be worth it.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #my fic #kikidoesfanfic #demogorgon daily #stranger things writer's guild

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loveinhawkins · 11 months

Text

My ‘Eddie & El bonding post s4 fic’ is still joint 2nd on my WIPs poll so here’s a post on it! ❤️

the idea for this really crept up on me while listening to the munchkinland musical sequence from the wizard of oz, of all things (which i think will just come up in one scene lol)

the setting is post s4, El has successfully killed Henry, but she & Eddie are stuck in a limbo kinda situation in Hopper’s cabin, waiting for paperwork & deals to be struck so they can safely show their faces in Hawkins. the thought of them finally meeting, not really knowing each other’s stories but crossing paths in the aftermath of everything is one i’ve wanted to look at for a while so i’m hyped for this idea!

a lil draft opening. ❤️ content warning for briefly implied abusive childhood.

They don’t exactly get off on the right foot. It’s Eddie’s fault, really: he goes into the living room without noticing that she’s sleeping on the couch. He doesn’t think he’s that loud, but a floorboard must creak or something—that or she has hearing like a bat—because she’s suddenly sitting bolt upright with a gasp, hands flying to her head, and— The sound of shattering glass somewhere above him; Eddie flinches, and he’s suddenly pressed up against the back of the couch, head between his knees. A small hand on his shoulder. He flinches again. “I’m sorry,” El whispers. “I’m sorry.” Get a fucking grip, Munson, Eddie thinks. He looks up. El’s eyes are wide and wet. He shudders out a breath through his jackrabbit heart and says, “I’m not scared of you.” She just blinks, tears on her eyelashes. “I’m not,” Eddie promises. “I just… I don’t like loud noises, y’know, if I don’t expect ‘em. Never have.” El nods. Dries her eyes with a harshness that makes Eddie’s chest pang. “Me too,” she says.

WIPs Poll

#loveinhawkins wips #eddie and el

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childotkw · 3 months

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Would regulus have an accent if he came back from the warring clans era into hp universe?

Like.... I know he would have used some sort of translating/speaking spell but he would have definitely picked up the language eventually!

Also I feel like he would be too comfortable in a kimono to change into normal high class wizarding clothes and also to make izuna feel that he isn't standing out too much

Just imagine izuna and regulus sitting in a phoenix army (or whatever they're called) meeting and they just start talking shit about dumbldoors fashion choices in Japanese.

Imagine regulus asking kreecher for a traditional Japanese breakfast if izuna was feeling too homesick.

Imagine izuna finding out about sirius little jealousy problem and making it worse bc whenever reg isn't with them in the room he whispers to him ' I'm gonna steal your brother and take him to my clan bc he's ours and not yours >:) '

Also.

There has to be a scene where izuna has to show his ruthless shinobi side in all of his (I've been a child soldier then I was a war lord of course I'm gonna kill you without batting an eyelash) and he's coverd in blood and gore

((and all of the wizards are like : oh....

He isn't just a weird guy who reg domesticated like a wild but friendly raccoon....))

(((And reg would purse his lips, berate him for being reckless, and then offer to wash off the blood with a spell without missing a beat bc he's used to the violence from his time in the warring clans era)))

And ugh I have too many ideas I don't know why I'm so invested in this au but I love it and I love you

Good night

Aww I love you too!

And I think he would! Since you're right, he'd eventually learn the language himself, rather than rely on magical translation spells. It would make sense that an accent would crop up for him.

And yes, a lot of things for him would change. Even just a few months in the naruto!verse would leave it's mark. He'd definitely appreciate quite a few things about the culture - and there would be a lot of general lifestyle habits he'd change / pick up.

His sense of dress, the types of food he enjoys, what he drinks, how he talks and exercises...it would all be impacted.

It would be a startling change for anyone to witness. Regulus Black disappears for two months (maybe two years in the naruto!verse) and comes back with a tag-along, and seems to have become a completely different person.

Izuna would absolutely lean into it though. Regulus is his now. The dude very clearly prefers Izuna's home world to this place, and he has plans in place to whisk them back as soon as possible, regardless of what anyone - including Regulus' brother - thinks on the matter.

(Izuna is also 100% sure that if they take too long, Tobirama is going to cleave the universe in half to pluck them back. Or worse - come retrieve them himself. Their exit from this world will be less dignified than kittens being scuffed by an irritated mother cat and hauled back to the nest.)

He also would have many badass moments. This boy was born for drama and showing up a bunch of self-important, annoying wizards? He would leap at the chance. It's even better since he gets to defend Regulus at the same time!

#anonymous #HP #naruto #uchiha izuna #regulus black

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krethes · 1 year

Text

Unfinished Friday

Got the idea from @tackytigerfic and lordy lordy lordy loo do I feel perceived 🤣

Soo this is a 7th year Marauder fic I started back in 2021 at the behest of the Wolfstar Discord that never quite got its feet off the ground.

“Oh, come on, Remus, it’ll be fun!”

He raised a brow and turned the page of his book without looking up. “No, thank you.”

A sigh. A familiar rustling of robes. The smell of rose and ginger. A flash of red hair. A press of pale fingers down the spine of his book. “Remus John Lupin, I hereby invoke the Favor.” Lily Evans regarded him with eyes like fresh spring clover, her free hand cocked on her hip as she leaned into his personal space. They were only about a foot apart now, and there was no escaping The Look.

He sighed, wrested his book from her punishing grip, and closed it neatly in his lap. “Of course you do,” Remus bemoaned softly, tucking the tome into the bag at his feet. There was nothing for it -- the Favor was one they traded often, something owed that passed between them almost as a joke. Normally, it was a quick glance over homework or something like ‘I can’t be arsed to get up and Our Boys are not around, so please could you fetch me a tea?’, not… this. “I’ve never played before.”

Lily smiled, her entire face lighting up with the gesture, light radiating from every pore. Merlin, but she was lovely, wasn’t she? Remus found himself swept up in it, and had to staunchly squash down the urge to smile back -- he was trying to be cross with her, smiling would ruin the whole thing. “But you’ve watched, haven’t you? Matches with your dad, right, on the telly? I’ll bet you know the rules better than I do.” She batted her eyelashes at him, long, mascara-dark things that got him every time. Girls.

She was trying to butter him up -- he knew this, knew her tricks after six years of friendship, and yet… It worked. Like a fucking charm. And it was The Favor, after all.

“I do know the rules,” he admitted quietly, steepling his fingers together. His childhood had been rather lonely, after all -- mornings stretching into afternoons that lazed into evenings without other children to play with meant that Remus spent a great deal of his time reading or joining his parents at the television set. He’d been particularly fascinated by the game, of the men and women in peak physical fitness sprinting across a green field in shiny shirts and shorts, and it was the only time his father ever seemed to get excited about anything anymore. So Remus had been drawn to it, as much as he was to the sea, and absorbed the complexities of the game in his knowledge-sponge way.

“So…?” Lily wrapped her hands around his and pulled him to his feet with a little bounce, victory clear as day on her sunny face. At his nod of assent, she hugged him fiercely around the middle, her face tucked into his sternum in glee. “Yes, amazing! Right. So, you’ll be on my team!”

“Aren’t you...splitting them by genders?” He might be bent, but he wasn’t a girl.

Lily shrugged. “Technically, but that’s just to foster some inner-team solidarity since we’re mixing the Houses.” She frowned faintly, the tiniest moue forming between her eyebrows. “Not much interest from some of the other students, I’m afraid. They don’t… want to be associated with a Muggle game.”

She didn’t have to explain why -- it was plain. A Muggle game meant being labeled as a Muggle Sympathizer, as a Blood Traitor, even. They weren’t stupid -- they all knew there was a war on the horizon, about to come to a boil, but...they were still kids, weren’t they? Of-Age wizards, certainly, but only Peter and Sirius were eighteen in their little band, and they still deserved a spot of fun.

“Besides,” she said, fixing him with a coy grin, “you’ll finally get to help me put Potter in his place! Black, too, I guess.”

Remus snorted, shaking his head. “You can call him ‘James’, you know. You’re dating.”

“Don’t remind me,” she teased, though the look on her face -- doe-eyed and rosy-cheeked -- gave her away in a heartbeat. Their relationship was very new -- only a couple of weeks old, but Remus knew she was absolutely smitten with James Potter. “So, we’ll practice on Wednesdays and once McGonagall gets it cleared, we’ll have matches on Sundays! Potter-- alright, James, ugh -- was deadset we didn’t interfere with his ‘precious Quidditch’, but they’ll be early afternoons so don’t you start with me about your studies, Remus Lupin. I’m taking more N.E.W.T.s than you, I don’t want to hear it!”

Her rambling muted him, and he shut his mouth with an audible click. Well alright, then. Remus knew better than to argue when she was in full sail like this. The HMS Lily Evans was truly a force to be reckoned with. “Wait… the club hasn’t even been approved yet?” he asked, incredulous. It was unlike Lily to come into this half-cocked. Her sign-up sheet, though not as flush as she’d like to be, had an impressive amount of names on it. It would be a decent number of people to let down…

She pulled thoughtfully on her lower lip in a familiar nervous tic. “Well… Professor McGonagall seemed very confident she could get it approved… I trust her!” she decided, releasing her lip with a nod to herself.

Remus grinned and ruffled her hair, earning him a well-placed jab to the ribs. “Alright, alright. Wednesdays and Sundays, then. I’ll clear my schedule.”

***

Minerva had been delighted to hear about Lily Evans’s club idea -- football, indeed! Oh, she hadn’t seen a live match since she was just a girl, and even then, it was only the lads at the local co-op putting it on for a lark. She smiled to herself as she bustled down the corridors towards the Headmaster’s office, remembering those games. She announced the password -- ‘Curly Wurly’ -- and adjusted the fit of her hat. One had to look their best, after all.

Albus looked up from his desk and greeted her with a nod. “Ah, Minerva, welcome. You have a proposition for me, I hear?” He did not stop the quill scrawling across his desk, nor rise to greet her. That was fine, he was a busy man.

“Yes, Albus. Lily Evans would like to start an intramural football club.”

The quill came to a scratching pause, and he searched her face with pale blue eyes. “I cannot say that I can support a club that would only create more animosity between the Houses, Minerva -- Quidditch has done a fair enough job of that as it is, don’t you think?”

She resisted the urge to tidy her hat again -- Albus had such a long way of speaking, never quite saying what he meant. Fortunately, she’d had decades of experience of dissecting his speech patterns, and had come prepared. “I agree, Albus,” she began, watching the flicker of light behind his eyes, “but this will be a mixed-House club. Miss Evans proposed a boys against girls game.”

“And do you think that to be entirely fair?”

Minerva frowned, drawing herself up a little straighter. “Albus, you are not implying that the girls cannot hold their own, surely?” It was 1977, for Godric’s sake!

The smallest of smiles unfurled across his lips and a familiar twinkle entered his eyes, one Minerva hadn’t seen in years. “Ah, of course not. I am certain Miss Evans will give anyone who thinks so a run for their money. Am I to assume you will be the faculty sponsor for this club, Minerva?”

Her schedule was quite full as it was, but perhaps she could convince Pomona to take on a bit more detention proctoring this term… “Yes, you assume correctly. Are we aligned?” She fixed him with a look of cautious anticipation, and only her rigid self-control kept her from Shifting into the cat at his nod of assent. “Thank you, Albus. I will keep you posted of the matches.” Minerva gave him a brief nod, took a cinnamon candy from his desk, and left his office feeling quite giddy indeed.

Football!

***

"Moony-moon-Moony, wait-- where are you going-- and ...AUGH!!! You're not!"

"Traitor!"

"Padfoot, Wormtail, we knew this was a matter of time."

"Just-- maybe he has an explanation. You have an explanation, don't you, Moonfish?"

"Oof, Pads, that one's not very flattering, strike it?"

"Ah, yes, too right, Mr. Prongs, and duly noted. Well, Mr. Moony, what do you have to say for yourself!?"

Remus looked at his three closest friends from across the white line painted on the Quidditch-turned-football Pitch with thinly veiled ire. "I'm not sure I understand the question, Padfoot-in-my-mouth."

Sirius scoffed and gestured wildly at Remus's uniform. "Why, Moony, is your uniform...white?" He gestured to his own, very black, shirt and shorts.

"Well, I'll tell you," Remus declared, leaning in all conspiratorial-like until he was fully in Sirius's space -- not, he noticed, that he minded. He cupped Sirius's face in his hands and inwardly rejoiced at how he practically melted, and smirked. "I wanted to be on the winning team."

"Oi!!! Out of bounds, Lupin! Foul! Card! Whatever… that means. Moony, you have betrayed us!" James cried from a few feet away, his face aghast. "What makes you so sure the lads are going to lose?"

Remus looked at the black-clad boys scattered across the field and cocked an eyebrow. They were...a motley group, to be honest, and largely pureblood. Xenophilius Lovegood was trying to coax a bit of rogue heather he'd brought in his pocket to take root in the grass of the Pitch. Peter was missing his protective shin guards. Damocles Belby looked a bit winded already, his ruddy cheeks even more crimson than they usually were. The other six boys just...looked a bit lost. Compared to the girl's team, which held Remus, Lily, Marlene, Mary, Sibyll -- not their best get, admittedly -- and a few younger girls Remus was embarrassed not to know the names of yet, they looked a bit... lacking.

Lily appeared at his side and glared at James with her hands on her hips. "Oi, Potter, don't harass my goalkeep," she snapped, though her frown quickly tilted up into a smirk.

"Moony's my boyfriend," Sirius muttered sourly, casting sad, gray eyes up at Remus that made him feel just a little guilty. Nevermind, he'd make it up to Sirius later, do that thing he liked with his

His ?? Teacup? Tongue? Wand? Textbook? No clue.

If you wanna...and if you qualify (most of you are way more responsible than me...): @msalexwp @r33sespieces @theresthesnitch (shh shh I know), @second-sister @elder-millennial-trash @quietlemonhush @aqua-myosotis and anyone else who wants to out themselves as a procrastinator 🤣

#unfinished friday #oof #it me #intermural #not to be confused with intercrural #though tbh i think that's what remus was talking about #marauders #wip #my fics #tag game

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noodyl-blasstal · 2 years

Note

Monster mash 16 and Taako!

"I am not losing this bet, so I’m staying right here. And If I die in this haunted house, at least everyone will know I wasn’t a coward." From Monster Mash Prompts which you can find here.

Thank you so much for this prompt - sorry that it’s essentially just a lot of stupid ideas in a trench coat.

______________

“Taako, just one more time, just to clarify, the reason you rang me at work, told me there was an emergency, asked me to bring the car, and to come straight away was because you needed a lift?” Kravitz leaned sulkily on the door frame, watching Lup and Barry gathering their bags of kit in the background.

“I’m gay Krav, I can’t drive.” Taako replied, rolling his eyes and shouldering his cooler. As if this was some kind of actual justification???

Lup snorted out a laugh, which she quickly turned to a cough as Taako wheeled to glare at her.

“Taako. Love of my life, man of my dreams,my betrothed, I have some news about my sexuality.” Kravitz was struggling to keep his tone even, but if he laughed he lost the argument.

“What do you mean, Krav?” Barry batted his eyelashes, face a picture of innocence.

“Krav… have, have you been lying to Taako?” Lup gasped. “How could you?”

Kravitz gave an exaggerated groan. He hated them, he loved them.

"Can I at least come in before I come out?"

"No!" They all chorused, moving towards the door.

"You can come out in the car, stud." Taako reassured him.

“I hate you all. Where are we going?” Kravtiz didn’t mean to ask the second bit, it just popped out. Obviously he wasn’t driving them anywhere because he was going back to work.

“Ghost house.” They replied as one.

“Ghost house.” Kravitz repeated. So, an evening spent in the middle of nowhere while Lup delighted in scaring Barry, and, by extension, Taako. Perfect. “Are you doing another collab?”

“Lup bet this one was too scary for me.” Taako said. Kravitz wagered that Lup was probably right.

“Uh huh, so you…” Kravitz waited for the reply

“Designed a three course meal which is the perfect accompaniment to spooky boys.” Taako answered, grabbing Kravitz’s shoulder and pushing to turn him round. “Now stop stalling. It’s a few hours drive and we need to get the kit set up.”

“I didn’t agree to drive you anywhere.” Kravitz said as he was steered towards his car.

“Uh huh.” Taako passed him a cooler. His stupid traitor hands took it.

“I shouldn’t have left work.” Kravitz definitely shouldn’t have left work. Okay, so he’d put in loads of overtime lately, and his boss was his Mum, and when he’d said he needed to leave she’d rolled her eyes and told him to have a good weekend. But it wasn’t too late to go back to work… Kravitz opened the car.

“I should go back.”

“Okey dokey bud.” Barry grinned placidly as he piled into the back of the car with his equipment.

“Sounds like a plan, Kraverino.” Said Lup, opening the passenger side door.

“I’ll miss you while I’m getting eaten by ghosts.” Taako said, ducking under Lup’s arm to claim the front seat as his own. “Flip wizard!” He added, flipping Lup off lazily when she huffed her disapproval.

Kravitz buckled his seatbelt, looked at the car full of the most irritating people he knew, and told Taako to put the address into the satnav.

“So anyway, I’m gay.” He said, as they pulled away.

_____________________________________________________________

Once they’d jimmied their way through a loose side door, Taako had set up his gas stove in the kitchen and wrestled the oven back to life somehow. He laid out a beautiful cloth on the dining room table while Barry tinkered with the EMF gauge and Lup arranged the lights. Kravitz stayed back and handed out tape, drinks, and snacks. It had long been established that his best contribution to this part of any shoot was staying out of the way as much as possible.

They’d both filmed their intros and Lup and Barry had gone to tour the house while Taako prepped his ingredients, flirting with the camera while Kravitz pretended he wasn’t completely entranced watching his fiance perform so effortlessly - it never got old. Taako was chopping chocolate when the scraping noises started. He rolled his eyes hard at the camera and told them that Lup was up to her usual tricks. Kravitz was glad. Lup delighted in scaring Barry whenever they did this, and Taako always got suckered in too - no matter how much he said he didn’t believe in ghosts. It was all fun and games for Lup, but Krav was the one who had to go through ‘ghost proofing’ the house, sleeping with the lights on, sternly telling off the wind if it sounded too spooky, and making a salt line around the perimeters each night (while also trying to stop the cats eating it) for at least a week after the ‘haunting’. Lup could never know, Taako had sworn him to secrecy, and as much as Kravitz would love to just tell her to stop, he also loved that Taako let him in on this weakness, so the pattern would continue. So far though… so good. Maybe tonight would be better.

___________________________

“Okay, listen close and listen hard, Taako’s going to repeat this step twice for you: Wash. Your. Hands. What did I say Krav?”

Kravitz rolls his eyes affectionately. Taako has recently started talking to him off-screen in his videos and it’s nice that he trusts him enough. Not that Kravitz would ever star in them - he was not a chef - but the last guy who’d worked with Taako and featured in them had been awful. Trusting Kravitz enough to involve him in the Taako brand (tee em tee em tee em) felt like a prize.

“Wash your hands!” Kravitz repeated with enthusiasm.

“Why do we do that?” Taako asks grinning.

“So you don’t get chilli on your dick.” Kravitz knew the line well by now.

“So you don’t get chilli on your dick.” Taako intones seriously, and smirks at the camera. “Not that chaboy ever would, Taako knows better, but you all need reminding.”

Taako was most of the way through the spicy meatball starter (“...it’s not about any eyeball bullshit, Krav, it’s about the fact that if you don’t simmer it long enough the sauce is watery as fuck. Horrifying!”) when Lup and Barry reappeared. Lup immediately jumped into shot.

“Hope you’re all excited for some more Blair Witch Project style vlogging while Taako runs from the terrifying monsters. Turns out we’ve already got some dropping temperatures and spooky crackles upstairs! This one’s gonna be baller!”

Taako bumped her out of frame with his hip and kept cooking. Lup dived back in to roll her eyes and throw up a peace sign, then scooted off to do more important ghost business. To be fair, it wasn’t usually until after the food that things got bad - an occupied Taako was not a spooked Taako. Given time to think though? That’s when things went wrong.

_______________________

“Now that the souffle is in, we have to kill some time. Let's go and help Lup and Barold check the spookometers. Although…” Taako took a moment to glare threateningly at the space around them. “...if any ghosts make too much noise they’ll ruin the rise and they won’t get to enjoy my cooking. The joke’s on them if they fuck it up.”

Kravitz still isn’t entirely sure how Taako got the oven working, or if it’s safe to leave it running, but it’s probably best that they’re further away if it explodes anyway.

___________________

“And that’s it. Three courses to enjoy with your life-challenged friends! Thank you for cooking along with me. Be sure to like and subscribe, and make sure you check out Lup and Barry’s channel too, Phantasmal Resplendent, link in the description box. This has been Sizzle It Up With Phantasms, thank you for watching!”

Taako wiggles his fingers, blows a kiss, and then, finally, shuts off the camera.

“Okay Bones, we’re off the hook for content now! How shall we keep ourselves entertained?” He waggles his eyebrows alluringly and trails a hand up Kravitz’s arm.

“Taako, we’re in what’s apparently a murder house, your sister and Barold are upstairs, and it’s freezing.” Taako knows this, he just likes to make Kravitz play the reasonable one.

“I can think of some options for warming you up.” More eyebrow waggling.

“Taako! You absolutely have to behave.” Kravitz knows Taako’s just teasing, but he still feels a blush rising. This man will be the death of him.

“Spoilsport.” Taako mutters, then jumps as a loud creaking noise comes from above them. “Shit. What was that?” Taako’s head snaps up towards the ceiling. Kravitz prepares himself for a long night of this and hopes that Lup is done fucking with Barry soon. Taako always ends up as collateral.

“It’s okay, just an old house. It’s probably settling.” Kravitz replies reassuringly. The loud, chilling laugh, followed by a scraping as if furniture was being dragged around somewhat ruined the calming effect.

“Nope.” Taako says simply, hitting the floor, and scooting under the tablecloth.

Kravitz crouched down, lifted the cloth, and looked in at Taako balled up underneath. “Do you want to go, love? I don’t mind. We can wait in the car? Or drive to that service station a bit back? Lup and Barry can just ring when they’re done.”

Taako shook his head emphatically. “Lup bet I couldn’t do this.” He muttered. Kravitz opened his mouth to tell him that it didn’t matter, but Taako cut him off. “Taako does not lose bets, so I’m staying right here, and you’re staying right here with me because I need you. If I die in this haunted house, at least everyone will know I wasn’t a coward. Now hold my hand.” Kravitz was going to marry this idiot so hard. He grabbed Taako’s hand, laced their fingers, and kissed his knuckles. Their linked hands made worming his way under the table to join Taako tricky, but it was worth it.

“It’s going to be alright, love.” Kravitz said, tucking Taako under his free arm, other hand still firmly linked. And it was alright, there was more creepy laughter, and the temperature just kept dropping, but although the table occasionally creaked the cloth didn’t lift. Kravitz hoped they could just stay here until Lup and Barry were done. Then they heard the scream. It wasn’t Barry’s, they knew Barry’s, that was a scream Kravitz had never heard before. Taako immediately stiffened and began to push Kravitz’s arm away.

“It’s okay, love.” Kravitz tried to hug him closer.

“It’s fucking not.” Taako ducked under his arm and out from under the table. “Get off my sister, ghost bastards!” Taako yelled as he ran for the stairs.

Kravitz scrambled after Taako. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him move so quickly. There was a second scream and Taako ran even faster, taking the last few stairs two at a time and kicking open the door the noise seemed to be coming from. Kravitz desperaturely tried to focus on the matter at hand, but fuck that was hot.

He made it into the room just in time to see Taako flinging himself at Lup and tackling her to the ground, then springing back up in a low stance in front of her. Lup was pale and shaking, silent tears running down her face.

Then Kravitz saw Barry.

What was left of Barry.

Fuck, that was a lot of blood.

Kravitz fell to his knees beside the prone form - he might be used to working with corpses, but he knew how to recognise when someone wasn’t one yet. “Lup, what happened?” Kravitz waited a beat for her reply. None came. “You need to tell me so I can help him.”

“I, I don’t know… I was checking the temperature readings and I turned round and…” Lup tailed off.

Kravitz hunched over Barry, reaching to check his pulse, trying to ignore the cloying sweet smell of his blood.

The cloying sweet smell.

For fuck’s sake. Kravitz poked Barry’s ‘corpse’ hard in the cheek. Barry cracked open an eye and grinned up at him.

“He’s not dead.” Kravitz said, sitting back on his heels.

“Can you save him?” Taako asked hesitantly, he had slumped to the ground to wrap a comforting arm round Lup’s shoulders and looked equally as ashen.

“From Lup? Probably not.” Kravitz replied, rolling his eyes as Barry started laughing.

Lup’s head snapped up immediately and the fear was replaced with a look that Kravitz hoped he was never on the receiving end of. Taako let go just in time as Lup dived for Barry.

“I thought you were dead! You absolute fuck!”

Kravitz couldn’t tell if she was hugging him or trying to squeeze the life out of him for real.

“Are you okay, love? That was a lot.” Kravitz reached out a hand to tug Taako up from the floor.

“Oh yeah, chaboy’s great. Just thought my sister was getting murdered and saw my best friend’s bloody corpse. Taako’s all good. All in a night’s work” Taako replied.

“Uh huh. So you don’t need a hug?” Kravitz asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not while you’re covered in Barry’s…” Taako takes a moment to sniff Kravitz’s shirt, pokes the ‘blood’ with a finger and tentatively licks it. “... syrup? Barold! What the actual fuck? Everything’s going to be so sticky.”

“Worth it!” Barry says happily, finally getting up. “That’s for all the times you got me. Don’t worry, I got the whole thing on camera.”

Lup glares hard and dives for the tripod in the corner. “Already backed up online.” Barry’s shit eating grin doesn’t falter.

“It wasn’t because I thought it was a ghost.” Lup says.

“Yeah, sure Lup, of course.” Barry replies.

“It was because you were hurt. I thought you were dead!” Lup’s voice was deadly serious, usual attitude gone. “I thought you were dead…” Her voice cracks.

Kravitz wonders if there’s a way for him to grab Taako and get out. Maybe she and Barry are finally going to have a conversation.

Taako clearly has the same thought and the two of them make for the door. Barry and Lup don’t look round.

“I hope they remembered to switch off the camera.” Taako stage whispers to Kravitz as they walk back down the stairs.

Kravitz huffs out a laugh. Safely downstairs he tugs Taako into a hug, despite the feigned disgust at Barry’s syrup. “You were so brave.”

Taako grins up at him. “Obvi. Chaboy doesn’t scare easy.” Kravitz decides it’s not the time to present any evidence to the contrary, and runs a hand up his back instead. “So, that thing with the door…”

#Kravitz makes them pay to get his car cleaned after - syrup doesn't come out of the seats easily #TW Blood #But it's not actually real; just syrup (WHY Barold?)#I planned out all the courses but it got far too long so I had to cut back on the actual cooking... and also the spooking #The chilli on your dick thing was an attempted call back to tentacling your dick but I'm not entirely sure it lands - I tried #Noodyl Writes #Taz fic #Taakitz #Taako #Kravitz

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thedragonagelesbian · 11 months

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Luc Surana D&D Character Sheet

this felt like a mistake. but, like, a very fun mistake. a cute mistake. the kind of mistake that might bat its eyelashes at you and give you a VERY disarming smile to convince you that it is, in fact, a REALLY good idea

...so, in that regard, it’s quite like luc himself

@hexblooddruid (sorry this is a long one i have a lot to say)

Some notes:

i decided to go shadar-kai for subrace for Maximum edgy goth elf vibes and free short-range teleport

i adore the lyceum scholar background, it felt much more appropriate than sage with a feature specifically about getting access to libraries & arcane resources, as well as the option to take persuasion proficiency. how else was my boy supposed to get his silver tongue?

speaking of, i also did something i didn’t do for cyrus or dru which is i took a first level feat: skill expert, grabbing proficiency in intimidation and expertise in persuasion. given that backgrounds having feats is all but codified for oned&d i didn’t feel too bad about this.

the really fun stuff tho is in this weird fucking triple class: base wizard, druid for all the rest of his levels (litany against making the level 20 build today), and the worst most pointless blood hunter dip ever.

this was by far the hardest dragon age character to port to d&d by sheer virtue of the fact that the magic systems, especially the part of the magic system that luc specializes in in dragon age, aren’t compatible. spirit magic and blood magic, the core of luc’s builds and things that are DIRECTLY adjacent to each other in dragon age, aren’t even things in base d&d

it was easy enough to pick necromancy wizard as a base, since that checks at least the animate dead box, but i also knew i didn’t want that to JUST be a wizard since... a huge part of his arc is precisely that he doesn’t do circle magic well. (also i hate to say it but thats simply too much modularity im not going thru all those spells)

when i set out, i even thought i was going to make him a charisma caster-- maybe a spirit bard or a wild magic sorcerer or even a fiend warlock. but none of the flavor or abilities felt quite right for where luc draws his power from, which is the interplay between life & death, spirit & matter, the fade & the physical world

...and then i remembered. the unpublished unearthed arcana circle of twilight (aka death) druid.

i dont think luc thinks of himself as particularly wise, but you need some kind of wherewithal to deal with spirits as often as he does, and the additional necromancy flavor is perfect, AND i can get healing spells through the druid spell list (and charm person. have we talked about how weird it is that charm person is on the druid spell list)

that just left the blood magic bit of things.

there are a lot of classes that make for good one-level dips, whether for mechanics or flavor or both. cleric. warlock. sorcerer. fighter. yknow what doesnt make for a good one-level dip??? fucking blood hunter. you dont even get a fighting style at level 1.

but luc can’t not have blood magic. he’s not luc if he doesn’t have a troubling apathetic streak toward self-destruction, and blood hunters are rather grey warden-esque, aren’t they? a monster to fight a monster, a dangerous joining ritual shrouded in secrecy...

(and you know armor & shield proficiency never hurt for a base wizard...)

coming together, then, the three classes create a really exciting parallel to his narrative arc: beginning with wizard in the circle, joining the grey wardens and taking the blood hunter dip, and finally meeting morrigan and experimenting with other, more intuitive forms of magic from there

popping in vital sacrifice for extra blood magic and tough for extra blood, and then i realized that both necromancer & twilight druid have heal-on-kill abilities. to regenerate the blood. i don’t know how this would actually play in-game, i worry it may be too situational or rely too much on fighting crowds of low level enemies (all the more ironic for luc lacking AoE spells both in d&d and in dragon age) BUT. conceptually. i think it’s fucking delightful.

the other hard thing was picking spells bc. again. spirit spells don’t exist and i tried not to take elemental spells for my damage spells. in addition to the wizard spells featured (which skew more toward entropy than spirit tbh but what can i do at this point), the notable druid spells are charm person, hold person, moonbeam, and wither and bloom, and when he gets to level 5, dispel magic.

#luc posting #im so scared tumblr has done something rlly weird with my list so we'll see how the formatting goes..........

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joemerl · 9 months

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Writer's Month 2023, Day 14: "Vacation Fling"

Fandom: Harry Potter Status/Word count: Another little snippet from the same Quidditch World Cup fanfic as this 2021 entry. I really need to write the whole story one day. 458 words. Summary: In a subplot, Dominique is determined to outdo Victoire's tabloid scandal.

"I'm the blonde one."

Victoire spun around. Dominique was standing behind her, glaring daggers. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clenched in one fist.

Already frazzled by what was in that paper, Victoire could only say "What?"

"I'M the 'beautiful, blonde' Weasley girl! That's my THING!" She threw the Daily Prophet at Victoire's feet.

Victoire let out a slow, seething breath. "Merlin's bloody—take it up with Rita Skeeter!" She kicked the paper away. "Hardly surprising, that she couldn't even get our hair colors right!"

"I'm the pretty one! Not you!" Dominque sounded hysterical, stomping her foot like a stubborn toddler. "I'm the one who should be having scandalous affairs with exotic foreign wizards!"

"YOU ARE TWELVE!"

"And that's another thing! You come halfway across the world just to snog Uncle Harry's godson? You could snog him at home!"

"WE DIDN'T SNOG!"

"Well, you watch! I'll show you how it's done! I'll have the most tawdry, torrid romance ever, and blow your little dalliance right out of the water!"

She spun on her heel and stormed off. Victoire threw up her arms and marched in the opposite direction, barely suppressing a scream.

Obviously, Dominique couldn't pick anyone for her vacation-fling-that-would-be-so-much-better-than-Victoire's. Her boyfriend had to be better than Teddy Lupin. Which wouldn't be hard. What made Teddy Lupin special? His parents were war heroes and he was connected to Uncle Harry. That applied to most people Dominique knew.

Her top choice was Phoebus Thrussell, lead singer of the Bent-Winged Snitches. He had great hair and dreamy eyes and he couldn't even talk to a girl without Witch Weekly dedicating an article to it. Plus her parents would be absolutely furious. It was perfect.

Which was why she was now hanging around the band's enclosure, with several dozen other girls, waiting for him or his bandmates to appear. She had been here for an hour, and was getting impatient. Her nervousness about the security trolls had faded after a while, and at this point she would have settled for a sight of the band's drummer, who had a paunch.

"Here he comes!" one girl shrieked.

"PHOEBUS! PHOEBUS!"

The crowd screamed and cheered, and Dominque made copious use of her elbows until she was at the front of the group. She caught a glance of Phoebus Thrussell, one hand raised in a halfhearted wave to his admirers. Dominique leaned out of the wall of bodies, tossing back her blonde hair and batting her eyelashes in his direction.

He walked past without glancing at her, or anybody in particular.

A minute later, Dominique stalked away, scowling. She would have to find a backup plan.

#WritersMonth2023 #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Next Gen #Victoire Weasley #Dominique Weasley #Teddy Lupin #Quidditch World Cup #Tedoire #Bent-Winged Snitches

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thelandswemadeofpaper · 2 years

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The 'Mystical Vibe'

This kinda happens when its just...described in a unnatural and cryptid way? And its more than just 'people with power', the...aura? existence? thing? is taken as something eldritch-like and gives the impression of something-creepy-and- untouchable, similar to old tales of fair folk and Lovecraft, or legendary-holy-and-ancient-as -your-grandma, like Silmarillion and Fate, not like Lord Zeno straight up blowing universes up to show that he-is-OP, but more subtle and maybe philosophical?

A good example is The Road Goes Ever On by Chauntlucet:

On other worlds, where they were remembered -- even on this world, in the regions beyond the sea and Grinding Ice, where the Powers’ might were not so focused, were the protection the Elder King placed over the Children of this realm was as naught -- none would venture out on this night. Here there were signs written on the air itself, a singing silence, a taste of wild herbs and distant mountainsides stirring in the cold. A sense of Magic that was as much a warning as the ringing of the Hunt’s horns. This was a night for the Oromandi, for the Tavari and the Orrosi. A night for those born before the world and older than its oldest. A night for those who were not of the world, but laughed at it much, and saw it as for the most part a play and a game for their own amusement.

And Young Wizards by Diane Duane, Kubo and the Strings.

And one of my favorites: Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart

In this one, the guy as born with an weak heart, so his mother switch it with an clock of all things - and no one bats an eyelash at that - its a beautiful romantic tragedy.

Also another thing I call...

World Shock

...is pretty much what the it sounds like:

Yet it was the sudden appearance of what would eventually be called Hueco Mundo that changed everything.

It was a world unlike anything the Soul King had ever seen in his youth, and it had appeared just as suddenly. A world of its own that inherently switched the Self and the World while keeping the Soul King's set boundary at the same standard. As such, it was integrated with the natural order of things as if it had always been there.

The world Hueco Mundo formed radiated with an innate aura of solitude and desolation, a muffled feeling of emptiness derived from a bitter sentiment of loss permeating endlessly.

To the Soul King's surprise, he could not understand a single thing about Hueco Mundo. His very existence which was tied into the fabrics of reality unable to link itself with the rules and standards that comprised it. Perturbed as he had been on the matter then, it didn't matter as much as the fact that like moths to a flame, the Hollows formed from the Human World were drawn to it.

Practically all Hollows that had once inhabited the earth vanished in a single moment as they migrated towards a single destination and inadvertently escaped annihilation; the world they now lived in allowing them to visit and torment the Human world at a whim.

No one knew Hueco Mundo's history and only the Soul King could barely understand it after a millennium of interaction, but that wasn't the point.

Vasto of White has a lot of both.

Shirou turned his attention to the wall of flame surrounding him and stretched out his hands into the fire. Immediately, tongues of flame crawled up his arms, intent on burning him to ashes.

"The first fire gave warmth to the world. A remnant flame that did not burn for the annihilation of all, but for the heat of new life," Shirou spoke softly, watching the flames dance around him.

"You are Ryujin Jakka. A sacred sword of flame not meant to be used for the mundane."

Shirou tapped his chest, willing away the natural spiritual energy that protected his body. The sheer heat around him swiftly engulfed him in an infernal scorching wave.

No fear was reflected in his eyes.

No uncertainty.

He was steel in its truest form, unmarred, and untouched.

If not for the fact that he was a hollow, he would have been more akin with a Zanpakuto spirit.

"Can you not feel it for yourself? You are a flame meant to incinerate evil," Shirou pushed away the hollow facets of his soul and laid bare the presence of his inner world of steel and fire, the truest aspect of who he was.

"I am steel," he said. Strong. Hard.

A weapon neither evil nor good, simply meant to be wielded by a sense of purpose.

"Your fires will not melt me, will not harm me, for you as the will of a sword can already comprehend why," Shirou stared vacantly at the flames surrounding him. "I am not evil."

I really want to see more of the second in Star Wars: Arda Unleashed by Lord Exar Kun

#Vasto of White #tv tropes #Silmarillion #mystical #writing #fair folk #old tales vibes #Lovecraft #cthullhu #mystical vibe #edward scissorhands #jack and the cuckoo clock heart #jonathan strange and mr norrell #bleach

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