#he's a mad wizard and they always SLAP
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Unfinished work that I'm proud of 🤗❤️
Summary: After being hit by a spell Harry is de-aged into an infant. Fortunately, his mind is intact. Unfortunately, no one else knows.
Chapter 1: Helpless
Harry stared up into red eyes and cried. It was more like a wail actually, small and pathetic. Just like Harry.
One second he was running in the atrium, then Dumbledore was defending him, then he jumped in stupidly wanting to help and was hit by a strange spell and shrunk uncomfortably. He hit the ground, only cushioned by his now oversized clothes, and found that he could no longer control his limbs.
He was stuck inside his robes, dark and the sound outside was muffled. He could hear yelling, and the occasional spell zapped over him. He was grabbed by someone, yanked hard, and then was apparated away while being clutched tightly.
He tried to fight, he tried to scream but all he could do was helplessly gaze at red eyes when his robes were pulled back.
Voldemort was holding him, eyes wide, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When Harry began crying, the man grimaced, and he thought that the wizard might drop him. To his surprise the Dark Lord adjusted his hold, cradling Harry comfortably in his robes. Harry tried to move his arm, maybe slap Voldemort, but all he managed was a sad wave.
Long white fingers reached out, curiously holding onto his hand. His little baby hand. Dear Godric, he was a fucking baby? Harry cried harder then, gripping his enemy's finger as tightly as he could, willing it to hurt even though he knew it was useless now.
Voldemort clicked his tongue in annoyance at him.
The man waved his wand, and Harry watched through misty eyes as a bottle appeared. The Dark Lord shoved it into his open mouth, and Harry tried to cry around it but found it much too hard. He closed his mouth, clasping the soft rubber between his gums, and simply accepted the drink.
The milk within was sweet and warm, and Harry begrudgingly had to admit it was quite delicious.
He was still mad though.
Voldemort held the bottle, feeding him, watching him with a strange look on his face. Was he not going to kill Harry? There would never be a better opportunity than this, yet the man seemed content in nursing him.
It was fucking weird.
Harry stared up at the man, the monster who killed his parents, the man who tried to kill him. Why bother with this? Why not just chuck him out the window, or drown him? Surely Voldemort had better things to do with his time than care for a baby.
“You’ll be much less of a problem like this, Harry,” Voldemort murmured, his long finger caressing his cheek. Harry wanted to bite it off. Gum it off? Bullocks.
Had this been planned all along? Although he preferred this over being dead, Harry wasn’t sure of what to make of this strange situation. He doubted very much that he was supposed to still be mentally 15. But of course, Harry was the best at screwing things up.
If Voldemort thought this was going to be easy, he had another thing coming.
~~~~~~
Time was weird as a baby. Harry couldn’t keep track of days and nights, and Voldemort didn’t seem to sleep or eat at regular intervals. Harry slept a lot, he slept an ungodly amount. He couldn’t help it. He tired easily, after eating, moving, or breathing he fatigued and would be dozing off quickly.
There were times he was sure Voldemort was using magic to keep him sleepy, probably during the periods in which he’d be left alone for an unknown amount of time. Voldemort would always return. The man alone cared for him. Harry had yet to see another person and was sure he was dead to the world.
He wondered if anyone knew what had happened. Dumbledore had been there when he was hit with the spell, but even he couldn’t know everything. Had the old man seen his little form, wiggling under his clothes? Or perhaps his eyesight was too bad and he’d watched in horror as Harry seemingly disappeared from existence.
He had no clue.
Voldemort wasn’t helping either, he’d barely talk around Harry. The man would mumble while reading, and murmur short sarcastic comments at Harry that he didn’t think he understood. It was more than clear that the Dark Lord had no fucking idea that Harry was indeed still himself. If he knew, Voldemort would probably talk down at him, mock him, or straight up kill him when he realized his spell hadn’t worked properly.
It was in Harry’s best interest to keep up the charade until he could fight back, run away, or somehow send a message to Dumbledore.
Harry wiggled, trying to move his hands and feet in a swaddle he was wrapped in.
The Dark Lord looked up from his writing, looking Harry over before resuming whatever it was the man was doing. After weeks of this, Harry thought that the man would grow tired of him, hand him off to a Death Eater, or feed him to his snake. Instead, he seemed to adjust to having a baby.
Harry gurgled, trying to whine as he wiggled. He was feeling restless.
Red eyes looked up once again, this time Voldemort placed his quill down in its holder and reached over to grab Harry. He unfolded the soft blanket that was wrapped around him, picking him up and minding his head as he brought him to his lap. Harry settled in his hold, happy that the Dark Lord's hands weren’t cold at least.
Harry blinked up at the pale face and watched as an almost unnoticeable smile crept onto Voldemort’s face.
“So fussy,” the man murmured. Harry tried to deny it but grunted in response. The older wizard ran his hand through his hair, displacing the small curls. He seemed to be amused by it. Harry was not. “You’ll make a perfect little Slytherin,” he stated, sending a cold shiver down Harry’s spine. “How do you like Harrison Tomas Riddle? Or perhaps Hadrian Marvolo Riddle?”
Harry wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening. Voldemort was really going to try and raise him. Feeling frustrated Harry cried out, he wanted the man to know exactly how he felt about being renamed to fit into his sick fantasy. He belted out loudly, eyes quickly covering in a sheen of tears. Voldemort chuckled, gently bouncing him. Harry cried harder.
“You’re absolutely right, Harry. Neither is good, why should you have to bear my filthy father's muggle name?” Harry had to pause to take in a breath. “Perhaps it’s time to revive the Gaunt line,” he mused. Ignoring Harry’s tantrum.
The man smiled down at him, red eyes filled with pride.
Harry hated him. He hated him.
~~~~~~
At some point, Harry was able to start supporting his own head. His neck was no longer as bendy and weak as a cooked spaghetti noodle. He was having an easier time directing his hands to where he wanted them to go and was practicing grabbing hold of things.
With his small, newfound strength, Harry tried his best to annoy the shit out of Voldemort. He’d grasp random things, throwing them to the floor or bringing them to his mouth to slobber on. He’d turn his head away from the man constantly, refusing to look at him or acknowledge him. He could tell it bothered him, which was hilarious.
The Dark Lord fell out of favor with his baby.
When he tried feeding him, Harry would spit it up. He loved making a mess, even though it took Voldemort less than two seconds to clean.
The game became boring after a while since the man never retaliated. Harry wasn’t sure what he expected. The Dark Lord never cursed at him or yelled. He never hurt him, hands as gentle as always. He would spend hours trying to feed him, even after Harry spits up countless times.
When Harry cried at night, the Dark Lord always, without fail, would come to his cot and comfort him. He never looked tired, instead, he seemed to enjoy the time he spent with Harry, as unpleasant as he made it.
Harry hated him for it.
He’d gotten used to diaper changes, grateful for magic since the Dark Lord never had to touch him for that, but for bath time it was still as embarrassing as ever. For whatever reason the Dark Lord preferred bathing him in the traditional way, instead of just using magic to vanish the food and grime from feedings and drool.
He had a small basin that he’d fill with lukewarm water, and he’d use one arm to hold Harry in the water while he cleaned him with the other. The soap he used made Harry’s skin very smooth, and the cloth he used to wipe him down was possibly the softest thing Harry had ever felt in his life. It was a stark contrast to the rough rags his Aunt would use to scrub him until his skin was red.
After his baths Voldemort would towel dry him carefully, patting him down before placing a diaper on him and fitting him with warmed clothes. Bathtime was always before bedtime, and Harry was always the most relaxed afterward, clean, warm, and comfortable. Sometimes he would forget to be humiliated until the morning after.
They had a routine and followed it usually. There were the odd times that Harry would be left alone for longer than usual, Voldemort was probably busy torturing muggles and having slumber parties with Malfoy. But those times alone were few and far between. It would seem the Dark Lord had plenty of free time, ignoring how much paperwork the man did.
He was always reading and writing. It was so fucking boring. Harry would bother him, and Voldemort always was happy for the interruption.
Harry was surprised one evening to find that Voldemort does in fact sleep.
The man had taken a break from his book, rubbed his eyes, and took Harry with him to his bedroom. Harry had been there twice that he could recall since living here. Voldemort lay on his bed, putting Harry on his chest, and then took a fucking nap.
Harry was appalled, absolutely disgusted. But intrigued all the same.
He watched Voldemort sleep as he lay there, rising and falling with his chest. The man must have been tired as it hadn’t taken long for him to go under. He didn’t snore, or twitch. He was very still. Harry hated that the sound of the man’s heartbeat was comforting. It made his eyes heavy, and he tried to fight it but in the end, he closed his eyes and nodded off as well.
After that, the Dark Lord took Harry with him whenever he slept. It wasn’t all that common, no rhyme or reason to the schedule. Harry wondered if the man slept because he needed to or if he just felt like it.
He still hadn’t seen the man eat a single thing since being in his care. He would drink a rare glass of wine, or sip on tea, but never anything substantial. No wonder the man was practically a walking skeleton. The opposite of Harry who had been gaining weight, as babies do. Voldemort had once rolled his little fat rolls between his bony fingers, chuckling.
“Look at how fat you’ve become,” He stated gleefully. “You’ll be much healthier this time around, I can assure you of that,” He promised, making Harry both sick to his stomach and also secretly relieved. He was so ready for real food, none of that mushy crap.
In fact, Harry was so ready for anything that would give him any kind of independence. He’d be the fastest potty-trained kid the world would see. Then, when he had the motor skills, he would learn to run as fast as he could. With the right amount of strength, he might be able to stab Voldemort to death in his sleep.
How morbid.
But it would come to that in the end, wouldn’t it? He still had to fight the man. There still had to be a winner. Didn’t there? He had kept his memories for a reason. The world was giving him a fighting chance. He was the only one.
It would have to happen.
There was no other choice.
#harry potter#fanfic#harry potter is a menace#hp#fanfiction#voldemort#tom riddle#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ao3 author#fanfic writing#unfinished#ideas#short story#short stories#harry potter au#harry james potter#harry potter fanfiction#daddy voldemort
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Gale x Tav Part II Enemies to lovers
Part II of Gale x Tav enemies to lovers fic, during the Tiefling party, Gale's POV. Enjoy, galmancers
Tonight was the night, he thought to himself, the one he would finally get a moment with her. A moment without their companions, a moment to share exclusively with her. Although they had only been traveling together for a few weeks, he had known Tav for a lifetime.
Oh, yes, Gale knew who she was. He knew from the moment she pulled him from the portal, her expression dark when their eyes met. Tav. His first rivalry and first crush. Gale had been so embarrassed and bewildered, needing rescuing and then of all people it was her… now, he was in too deep. He had pretended not to know her, although he would have recognized her anywhere. It was a face, like Mystra’s, that was seared irrevocably into his mind. Tav was brilliant - a well studied wizard, a stunning rival, and had almost gained Mystra’s favor.
Almost.
That’s where their story diverged.
She drove him mad, both because she was so stubborn and always insisted on being right, having the last word. Very haughty. He found it infuriating. Still, there was something in her dark eyes that captivated him. They were so emotive and bright. He forgot how these tempestuous pools threatened to drown him. The way her hair danced around her when it was windy, how her face flushed in the heat of battle, how she would tease him mid combat about his choice of attack.
He felt like a school boy again, confused and infatuated, yet irate when Tav tried to invoke the merits of arcane magic over any other form. Gale knew if he didn’t tell her the truth, if he didn't act, Astarion’s gaudy flourishes would win her over before he had a chance and it would like his boyhood all over again. You see, Gale needed time to sort out his feelings, to ensure he was prepared to act on them, and with the orb that threatened to consume him he worried any undue excitement would cause him unnecessary discomfort… or worse.
He was smitten from the moment Tav joined Blackstaff. Her seriousness, the fire in her, how passionate and excitable she was… and then how she had slapped his hand at first when he was stuck in the portal. When he first laid eyes on her in class he had fumbled awkwardly in his introduction. He remembered so clearly how she looked him up and down, smirked and shook her head. That was it. No “hello,” no “nice to meet you,” just a head shake and she walked off.
Gale attempting to figuring her out was worse than him trying to open ancient tomes, tying to decipher text that was unfamiliar to him, washed away by the fingers of time. The stolen glances they shared or how often he caught her staring at him. In truth, it was because he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Too many times he was distracted in the heat of combat, entirely missing his shots because he had been too captivated by her.
Gale watched her flit about the party, her gregariousness and ability to connect with others so apparent. He felt the pangs of envy sink into him as she seemed to get along with Rolan, sharing bottle after bottle. He would be her type, he scoffed to himself. Rolan? Please.
This had been the same problem in their youth. Gale would watch her from afar, smitten, and then in class she would say something so maddening, so wildly inaccurate Gale could not let it go. And neither could she. The first argument they got into was outside the building during a break between classes and were debating the merits of spell sculpting versus defensive magic. Gale smirked to himself, thinking of how furious he’d gotten as she hurled low level spells at him, hurting him rather substantially. Despite his best efforts, she left without a scratch. The way she seemed to flick away each of his attempts was inspiring. And humiliating.
Needless to say she proved her point. Gale needed the infirmary after that introduction to her. He couldn’t see how incredible she was at the time, though. He was a child, clouded by the worry he was inferior. Unworthy.
He was pulled from this reverie, his expression darkening as he watched Astarion approach her and wrap an arm around her shoulder. Gale was many things, free of envy was not one of them. He turned, his face hot as he pushed into his tent. His stomach sank and he paced like a caged animal, worried he missed his opportunity. He felt the orb stir and he groaned, when suddenly he heard a stumble just outside his tent.
There she was.
*******
“No,” he said softly, hoping his voice was steady. His heart felt like it would jump out of his throat as his hands brushed against her skin. He shuddered, a soft smile on his lips. “No I don’t think you’re pathetic.” He felt the lump in his throat grow, wanting - needing to tell her. He felt pulled to her, as if she were his planet and he a meager moon destined to orbit her. The feeling rivaled those for Mystra herself.
Gale was elated when Tav nodded, granting her consent for him to take away her discomfort. This type of magic often felt so intimate, as if Gale was reaching into her core to suck out the posion. Gale’s hand brushed over her head, his fingers just touching her curls as he mended her.
When their eyes met, the room felt stifling. The chemistry undoubtable, the pull he felt to capture her lips in his. He turned away, trying to collect himself and cleared his throat, “That should do the trick,” he murmured.
“I hate to admit that it did,” she said, her voice teasing but gentle. He felt her stand and then there she was, before him. He stood a bit taller, more confident.
Gale inhaled sharply, the words falling from his mouth before he had a chance to overthink them. “I was wondering - hoping that you would find me tonight. Amidst all of the joviality, I wasn’t sure you’d find the time.” He smiled and he saw her curiosity pique. His breath was shallow, his heart thumping, “Would you… want to channel the weave with me? Just a moment for the two of us?”
Do you want to channel the weave with me? He groaned internally, embarrassed by his clumsy delivery. This was it, he thought. Unworthy.
And then he noticed the glimmer in her eye, the lopsided smile, and heard one, simple word. “Yes.”
#gale dekarios#god gale#baldurs gate 3#bg3 brainrot#bg3 gale#gale of waterdeep#gale#gale romance#fan fiction bg3#gale x tav#enemies to lovers#baulders gate 3#baulders gate astarion#baulders gate tav
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I've asked alot of questions for your "Listening Ears" au but I also wanted to hypothesise how Harry uses magic. One thing I've always found terribly underrated in Harry Potter fics is the wizarding school Uagadou, those guys use hand gestures to perform some types of magic and in Harry's position wouldn't this be beneficial? I can imagine Harry struggling particularly hard during his early schooling years, and perhaps stumbles upon this particular brand of magic on accident (maybe some friendly criminals in Nocturne stumble upon it, I imagine he has quite a few creature friends down there).
Side note; some of the schools in the Wizarding world are criminally underrated, and if you have any fic recs that stem outside of Hogwarts I'd appreciate it!
I'm always up for wandless magic in HP stories! It's a personal headcanon of mine that magic is supposed to be performed without a wand, but that centuries ago, magicals started using them as 'training wheels' essentially, and then grew dependant on them until wandless magic was what was considered rare.
Harry would excel at nonverbal magic as well (given his voice-related issues), and I can just imagine he'd be a terrifying opponent to face. Someone disarms him, maybe slaps a silencing charm on him too, thinking without his wand and voice he'll be an easy target - only for this mad lad to just start flinging spells with his hands, nonverbal and pissed off.
As for recs, I don't have any that immediately spring to mind, but the Harry Potter Goes to a Different School or Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter) tags are always a good place!
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Jily one-shot: Mittens
Happy birthday to Lily Potter, the woman whose sacrifice ended up saving the entire wizarding world! ♥ The other day I saw this^ tweet and immediately got inspired. This is just something short and silly but I’m also working on several other (a little bit longer) fics for this couple that I’m hoping to post sometime soon enough. Also a mandatory disclaimer: f*ck J*R. I’m just here for the marauders.
Words: 988
AO3 link
...
“Umm… what’s this, Lily?“
James lifted a weirdly shaped woolen item from a box Lily had packed for him prior to a date at Hogsmeade.
She blushed a bit. “You know how I’ve recently gotten better at knitting? Well… I saw this idea in one of Mary’s knitting magazines and I thought it sounded fun. A mitten that allows you to hold hands with someone even when you’re walking outside in cool weather. Plus, today’s Valentine’s day so I thought it would make sense to wear it... But if you don’t like it…”
Lily must have misread the confusion on his face, thinking he’d hate it. Sirius, Remus and Peter, on the other hand, couldn’t hold down their snickers in the background.
“I guess this was a bad idea,” she sighed. “Should have known this wasn’t something a Marauder out of all people would get excited about.”
James finally recovered from his initial surprise. “No, no! It’s a nice idea, really!” His face melted into a grin. “Who says a Marauder can’t enjoy holding hands with his brilliant, talented girlfriend? Shut up, Padfoot,” he lightly shoved Sirius’ shoulder because his best friend was now laughing way too hard at his reaction.
“You sure?” Lily asked skeptically, her cheeks adorably red.
“Yep, I’m totally sure. As a matter of fact…” James’ face lit up when he imagined the warmth of Lily’s hand in his. “I think I love it.”
…
“Did you see Lockhart’s face?” James asked, trying to contain his laughter as the couple entered Three Broomsticks for a round of Butterbeers. “He seemed so mad that he hadn’t had this idea before you did. Watch him try to sell hundreds of couple mittens next Valentine’s Day.”
“Too bad we’re not here to see it,” Lily snorted. “Although, maybe we should stop by just to see if he succeeded.”
“Yeah, maybe we should,” James agreed.
“Aren’t you two just darlings,” Madam Rosmerta, who had arrived to take their order, referred to the mitten they were currently taking off for it was very warm at the inn. “It’s always nice to see some young love around…”
“Thanks, Ros,” James smirked. “I’m sorry that you have to find out this way that someone else has taken my heart, but there’s still always a soft spot for you in it.”
Lily slapped his arm with her free hand. “Remember whose hand you’re holding, Potter.”
“But Lily, you know I only have eyes for you.” He made his best deer eyes at her. “Rosie and I simply have a long history.”
Lily rolled her eyes, but James did notice she bit her lip to hide a smile. Everyone knew the Marauders liked to joke around with Rosmerta, mainly to get cheaper drinks, and Lily too had learned to not take the ‘flirting’ too seriously.
Madam Rosmerta left to serve other customers. For a while Lily and James simply kept up a light banter, discussing what they had seen so far at Hogsmeade and wondering what the other Marauders were currently doing while sipping their drinks. When they exited the inn, however, they were soon stopped by a small group of Slytherins, Mulciber as their leader.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any lower, Potter… you show us all how whipped you are by a Mudblood… Is there anything more pathetic?”
His housemates laughed, but James managed to remain calm as he felt Lily squeezing his hand, meaning ‘they’re not worth it’. He looked around, trying to come up with an appropriate response. For once the luck was on his side; he spotted none other than Professor Dumbledore himself not too far from them, possibly on his way to enjoy a glass of mead with a couple of his colleagues.
“Oi, Professor Dumbledore!” James exclaimed. “Fancy seeing you here!”
“James, Lily,” Dumbledore greeted them. “Good to see my head students here on such a nice day. Are you trying to create a new trend?” He asked warmly, referring to their mitten. “Because if so, I’d love to have the pattern to that mitten as well.”
“I can give it to you the next time we give you our monthly report, Professor,” Lily smiled at him. “By the way, James and I were just wondering… would it be a sufficient punishment for someone who uses a slur against another student… if we made them wear one of these, but, I don’t know, with Peeves or something.”
“Good luck convincing Peeves to participate in that,” Dumbledore chuckled. “But I will admit, the concept is rather creative. Maybe we need to discuss how to develop it in our next meeting.” The professor’s eyes were twinkling playfully.
“Sir, you know just as well as I do that if anyone can convince Peeves to do anything, it's James. Either way, we’ll be looking forward to that discussion,” Lily replied, waving at the professor before they turned to leave. From the corner of his eye, James saw Mulciber glaring at them murderously, but he just flashed one final grin at the Slytherin’s direction before leaving the scene.
“What an arsehole,” James shook his head once Lily and he were far enough. “If we hadn’t been wearing this,” he raised their mitten, “I might have punched him in the face…”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t, in front of Dumbledore and the others,” Lily noted. “But see, this mitten was pretty useful, after all,” she chuckled then. “I doubt Mulciber will want to use the m-word in front of anyone when there’s a possibility he’ll have to wear it with Peeves.”
“That was quite genius of you,” James admitted. “Although I personally think he’ll be missing out… I actually have been enjoying wearing this.”
“Yeah, you have?” Lily gave him a fond smile. “In that case, I’m glad I made it.”
“Me too,” James agreed and with the hand that was entwined with hers, he pulled her closer for a kiss.
@jilymicrofics I know this doesn’t really fit under any of the prompts, but I hope it still counts!
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//i don't have time right now to do more in-depth digital sketches/concept art, but here u go. kureha and mama tachibana :)
ideas/ headcanons under the cut!
so. if you thought hiro doesn't come from a family with kickass women i'm sorry but i do not agree!!!!
kureha tachibana:
i imagine she's roughly four years older than hiro, give or take. also taller than him (i put hiro at 5'11" and kureha at 6'2")
lulu and belle's retainer, but used to shadow both parents when they were performing their *~Retainerly Duties~*
used a kendo sword instead of a real one. it has a steel core, so the bamboo is replaceable, but still hits like a truck. she uses hinomotan magic, too, but probably not to the same extent that hiro does. she likes it this way though :)
looks way more like their dad, while hiro takes after their mom. i'm pretty sure this is canon? i think it was mentioned in the nobility spin off, but it's been a hot minute since i've seen the screenshot.
scary and mad confident. she is hot shit and she knows it. very good at keeping secrets, though, and unlike her brother and zeus, knows when to keep her mouth shut. she has a keen eye for trouble, too. almost like she has a spidey sense or some other premonition-equivalent power. hiro has no idea how she does it.
i think her style would be similar to hiro's, though - easy to move in and comfortable. a liiiiittle more fashionable, though. the kind of gal that always wears boots and sneakers, and flats for formal events.
also bisexual. very bisexual. there are no straight people under the brundle estate's roof because i say so. sorry solmare this is what you get when you abandon ur games :/
makoto tachibana:
a former assassin from hinomoto. she was part of the assassination attempt on the brundle household when thor lost his leg, but was on the hinomoto side of it. her job was to kill seiji, who had just lost his parents at the time.
she obviously didn't kill seiji, but instead fell in love at first sight. she betrayed her employer and fellow assassins, ending their lives and trading her daggers for the life of a normal woman. seiji has no idea about any of this. would he care? maybe, but she's an excellent mother and an equally talented wizard, so he'd probably get over it quickly and be all mushy and say something like "the scars of your past do not matter. you are here with me now, and the fire in my heart that burns for you has not diminished." you know, like a shakespearean loser.
she's had other assassins come after her and seiji, but seiji just assumes it's because they're the tachibana family, and not because his wife has history with them. (only the lookout managed to get away after the assassination attempt, so he was the only one from the queensblade group that learned of makoto's betrayal)
super strong. even better at magic than her husband, but stays as a last line of defense for the estate. if you somehow make it past seiji, you won't make it past her.
she's iris' retainer, and they get along very well! they gossip about their husbands' relationship often and they find it very funny.
biggest reason why the tachibana family uses ravens as their familiars. murders used to surround makoto all the time, and now it's no different *slaps knee*
also very scary when mad. like, extra scary. nobody fucks with mama. but very nice otherwise :) sometimes she'll slip into her more rough and tumble side - think former biker, almost.
uhh i can't think of much else right now but i'm sure i'll think of more when i actually... .. you know... .. do a proper illustration with them and hiro.... ;_;
#i'm so fucking sorry hiro . i missed our birthday.#not mcl#wizardess heart#mia draws#i just think they're neat. we should have gotten to meet them!!!!!!!!!#makoto's outfit was a struggle ngl. it took me more than a few tries to get an outfit that i liked#that wasn't just a kimono or knock off yor forger. u know.#i'll have to do a late b-day pic with the fam. . . . .. ... . . i'm so sorry my boy#iris and makoto are so funny together they are SO supportive of their husbands#they'll just be watching thor and seiji bicker and they'll be like “wow you're more married than we are”
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Pomegranates, A Stardew Valley fanfiction
Pairing: Lance (SVE) x Farmer (male, character sheet here)
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Farmer Max didn't listen to the wizard's warning and encounters a spell that shows him a version of his life where he married Elliot, instead of Lance. Hurt/Comfort, happy ending.
AN: Spoilers for Lance's 10-heart event and several late game quest lines, references to the outcome of these quests or rewards. Player is an OC with established characteristics, story, mannerisms. It's fine, we have fun anyway.
Rated Teen and Up Audiences for sexually suggestive content, unsafe situations, characters worried about infidelity (No actual cheating). One-shot. Cross-posted to Ao3 here. Send me a DM: yell at me, send flowers. Cheers.
He always saved the best pomegranates for Elliot.
The shiniest fruits of the batch, so heavy with juice they nearly jumped off the branch and redder than wine-stained, kiss-swollen lips. They always got washed separately, scrubbed twice, and packed in a box that had become known as “Elliot’s box” because of the blocky, handwritten label that declared it.
“That time of the year again?” Lance smiled as he set his satchel on the kitchen floor, mindful of the farmhouse’s stone counter-tops ever since they discovered that life elixir is surprisingly acidic. Luckily, the microwave now hides his shame.
“Just in time for his birthday too, since the summer was so cool,” Max said, clicking the crate shut.
“Well, I’m off to the Highlands.” Lance glanced in the fridge while the farmer tugged on his boots. The sticky rice he made the night before was untouched, a cursive note that read ‘goodnight, my love’ still attached to the top.
Poor farmer, he works so hard, he thought. “Actually. There’s not much to do the first week of the season, besides observations. If I only do a half day, I could make it back by say… 8 o’clock? What do you think, love, want to quit early with me?”
His mushy thoughts of hiking up to the bath house and splitting a pot of cider on the couch were dispersed by Max reaching for his coat with a wince. “I’m sorry, honey, probably not. Leah wants to do a brunch thing tomorrow for Elliot’s birthday and I gotta turn in early if I’m gonna finish the chores before I go.”
Lance opened his mouth to point out the flaw in his plan, but settled for a frown as he slung his satchel over his shoulder. “No worries, love, just a thought.”
They parted ways with a kiss, soft and sweet: the farmer’s preferred choice of apology when he knew Lance wasn’t actually looking for one.
“Stay safe up there. And say hi to Marlon for me if you see him,” Max said.
“Of course. Safe travels, farmer,” Lance teased him with a smirk.
He watched Lance leave their homestead and down the road, the smell of freshly-tilled soil washing away the scent of his husband’s soap before he even turned the corner. By the fifth day of the season, the crops were all settled into their neat little rows, the promise of pumpkins already in curly little saplings, and colorful mushrooms peeking up from plush, sleepy grass. The trestles by the fence would have grapes on them soon enough—best to keep an eye out for Petunia then, lest his horse be tempted out of her stall and he find her foundered in her sin.
Elliot loved the fall.
And Max almost slapped himself as he started the rest of his chores.
The wizard had warned him, “you can peruse my library at your leisure, but don’t touch any of the books behind that altar. It’s for your own safety,” and gestured to a menacing golden creature atop a spell circle, the statue’s ruby eyes seeming to follow him around the candlelit room.
It was one book.
A simple spell, just a single, short paragraph among the hundreds of others, found by parting the book to a random number and beginning in the middle of the page. The spell explained itself to have no ingredients, casted only by reading, though Max couldn’t have guessed how literal the instructions were.
“Spirits alive, spirits alike, spirit made flesh. The mind is a shallow cup, cursed to overflow with too many memories, but the soul remembers. Never forget, dear spirit. Recall your journeys, dear spirit… allow us to enter your mind, spirit. And look with us.”
Even Max knew not to speak aloud from spell books, but just reading the words left him breathless, his wheeze condensing in front of his face. He slammed the book shut, quick and careful to replace it on the shelf exactly as it had been found before fleeing back to the warp hall, his fumbling hands yanking at his coat’s zipper.
“Too creepy… Never again,” he said, believing now that Magnus wasn’t exaggerating when he placed the shelf off limits.
But the spell was already cast, brought to life by being read, and Max found himself visited by the most vivid dream he’s ever had—and hasn’t had one like it since.
A farm, what must have been his farmhouse, and an autumn day like today. A striped cat rushed to the kitchen under his feet while the writer hummed at the stove, his ginger hair pulled back to the nape of his neck.
“Good morning! Come eat, darling, I made your favorite.”
He never cared for pancakes but his stomach growled regardless, heart squeezing unbidden when the writer fluttered over to greet him with a milk coffee kiss.
Lance drank his coffee black.
It wasn’t his farm, not his cat, not his husband, so why did it feel so warm?
Why did he wake up missing the rosy lens of that other place? With syrup on his tongue and a pain in his chest for a man he’s never looked at before with anything other than friendship? His heart sank, belly cold as he rolled over to seek the warm back of his sleeping husband, minding the pomegranate hair draped over his pillow.
“Mm—hello,” Lance rumbled with fondness, awoken by the way the farmer squeezed around his middle.
“Go back to sleep, Lance,” he said against his hair. The smell of magic never did manage to wash out, like lightning in a forest. A happy huff was his only reply, though Max would stay awake for the rest of that night, and for days after.
He never should have read from that damn book.
The dream wasn’t anything more than a glimpse. He didn’t know the farmer’s story, who raised him, but he knew why his belly twinged when the writer kissed him. And if this flash of a feeling could haunt his thoughts in broad daylight, he knew he would die if he ever knew the truth about their entire life together, killed gloriously by the knowledge of one single lifetime, out of the thousands this other valley might know.
And he would never recover if Lance knew.
How could he ever say that in another life, some other place just like their valley, he was married to Elliot? And that they were so happy?
He couldn’t, he would rather jump naked into a bath tub of lava slimes than hurt Lance.
Lance, who when he was contemplating giving up farming to be a full-time adventurer declared with that self-assured grin that Max was the only one who could help him with his research.
Lance of the First Slash Clan, seasoned adventurer, who becomes as red as his hair, suddenly shy when Max reminds him that on his first visit to the First Slash Guild Hall, he took off his clothes and suggested they squeeze into the single bed.
The same man who when Max came to him with the insane idea to turn their cellar into a guild hall, didn’t poke holes in his dream or complain about how much the construction would cost, instead swelling with pride to say “My farmer, always thinking of others.”
Lance, whom without the world would have no spring.
Max looked at the crate in his hands, having walked all the way to the beach after his chores, and knocked on Elliot’s door with his boot. What am I doing?
“Max, hello there!” He opened the door with a gasp. “Are those for me?”
“What—yes. Fresh from Haddenfield,” he said reflexively, pulled from his thoughts to follow Elliot inside and put the crate on the piano bench for unpacking.
“Oh, they’re beautiful,” he said, holding one up to the window to admire it’s ruby glitter. “Won’t you let me pay you this time?”
“No no, of course not,” Max waved his hands. “I brought it to you without asking, it’s a gift. Happy birthday.”
“Well, thank you.” Elliot bowed his head, but was struck by a thought. “Wait. This is heavy, too big for Petunia. Did you walk all the way here? Let me make you a cup of tea before you go.”
Max remembered the smell of green tea from his dream, knowing what he would offer even before Elliot opened the metal canister. “I’ve got green tea, do you mind a travel cup?”
This life is enough. No memory, intangible and false, will come between him and his valley.
“I’ve actually gotta get going. Somewhere to be. Thank you, Elliot, and happy birthday!”
“Thank you, Max, please be careful. Say hi to Lance for me!” He called as Max was already marching his way up the beach with a wave.
____
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__
_
Good, Marlon didn’t take the boat, he thought as he found the dinghy by the mountain dock, tied and ready. The trek to the Highlands always managed to be twice as long when you were in a hurry, and Max prayed the clouds gathering overhead would hold off on their rain until he made it to the outpost.
A distant crackle of thunder caught Lance’s attention, and he paused his note-taking where he was crouched beside a sleeping mushroom sprite.
“That’s enough for today, I guess,” he said, accidentally startling the creature awake and having to cast a recall spell to avoid its tiny rage.
On the river, Max struggled with the frantic sail of Marlon’s little boat, holding his own against the wind despite the way the waves slapped against its fragile sides.
“I can hear the conversation now—Sorry Marlon, I took your boat out into the storm without your permission but it was all for love! No no, it’s in pieces but I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” Max yelled to no one as the little boat bobbed and thrashed around the last bend before the dock.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Inside the outpost, Lance closed the line on his emergency phone when no one answered.
“He must be on his way home… oh, I hope he’s all right,” he said, going to pilfer his satchel for supper.
“Oh no,” he groaned, realizing his packed dinner was still in the fridge at home, probably next to the forsaken sticky pudding.
“Crumbs,” he said with a huff. Rain on the stone roof meant it was too late to try to fish, too far to try to go home.
A loud thud came from the direction of the dock, heard clearly even through the heavy wooden door, and the hair on his arms stood up.
Debris from the storm? No, it sounded like a person. Marlon? But why? It could also be a monster.
“The warding should keep them away…” Unless the storm fractured my spell circle.
The lumbering came again, closer now, until both Lance and the mysterious noise stood on opposite sides of the door.
His fingertips sparked with a welling of magic. “Aureus lux—“
The door flew open to crash against the opposite wall. “DAMN it all—”
“Max!” Magic leapt from his hand to scorch across the stone wall, but at least the attack hadn’t landed on his soaked husband, frozen in the doorway.
“Did you just try to zap me?!”
“Of course I did! How am I meant to know you’re the one stomping around like a Golem in the middle of a storm? What are you doing here?” He helped the farmer inside, setting him down at his workbench to begin taking off his boots. His fingers shook on the dripping laces, but not with magic.
“You’re soaked—what were you thinking?! What if the boat crashed, how would I ever even know what happened to you? Drowned, or, or—” Max hushed him with the hand that wasn’t holding his bag.
He pulled him close, uncaring he was likely dampening Lance’s shirt, he needed to feel him before he floated away. “You forgot your dinner.”
Lance blinked at him, watching the farmer open his bag to take out two portions of curry and a bottle of wine. Blue Moon, his favorite. “No hard feelings that it’s not from Haddenfield,” Max said, like every time he gifts it to him with the same cheeky grin.
“Have dinner with me? Maybe?” He tries again when Lance is quiet.
“That was an incredibly foolish thing you did,” Lance finally says, flat, but his eyes are soft when he pulls him into a long kiss. They can hardly tell which one of them deepens the kiss first, lips sliding and tasting of petrichor by the time they part to breathe.
“… So you’re not mad?” Max says, dazed and a little warmer where his jacket collar bows away from his skin.
“Of course I’m angry. But I’m also helplessly in love with you, farmer.” He shakes his head and reaches for the bottle.
“I’ll open the wine if you’d like to change your clothes.”
“You have extra clothes here?”
“No,” he says, flat again, and punctuated by both the pop of the cork and his affectionate smirk.
Well, at least the bed is dry, he thinks as he sits in his underwear. Lance never stayed mad for long, and by the time they finish supper he’s coaxing the farmer under the duvet and into his arms. For body heat, he insists, not because the outpost bed, while bigger than the one at the guild hall, is still a squeeze for two grown men.
“It reminds me of that first night at the First Slash,” Max said, accepting the wine bottle when Lance passed it to him.
“Oh Yoba, hasn’t my heart been through enough tonight?” Lance rubbed his tired eyes, albeit smiling behind his hand.
“Don’t be embarrassed, you were very charming,” Max grinned and passed the last sip back to him.
“How long had we been dating? Not long at all, and I threw myself at you.”
Max grabbed his hand to invite his gaze. “I caught you, didn’t I?”
Lance waited a beat, eyes softening as he squeezed their hands. “Yes, you did. Handsome farmer, I couldn’t help but need to know how you felt.”
“I promise, the fact that you were pressed up against me with your abs out had no influence on my answer.” Lance’s chuckle made his stomach flip, a familiar feeling he wanted to happen over and over for him alone.
He drifted easily into a useless dream about keeping Petunia away from the grapes, deeper than he’s slept in weeks, and wondered if pomegranates would be important in his next life too.
#stardew valley#stardew valley expanded#lance sve#lance stardew valley#lance x reader#lance x player#original character#do player fics count as x reader?#stardew oc#stardew farmer#oc fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#hurt/comfort#pomegranates#x reader#x oc
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Fake witch slut bitch screaming "Gatekeeping" for me saying "pssst, the deity hermes didn't look like my roleplay character." is genuinely hilarious. die mad. She can rewrite history to try to not make herself the lying user skank abuser she is but it's truly funny she flipped shit when I was like "honestly that's when I knew she RPed everything, including life" and go figure. That's what did it, that's what made her stop silently stalking and sending chuds in her stead. Because for all the freud of it, the only thing she cares about is her fucking roleplays.
Die mad, you lying, people using bitch. Only other cucks like you cucked me after cucking Daniel after cucking whoever the fuck else will believe you until you cuck them, look in the mirror and realize why you're gonna die alone. Always through the internet, always goign uwuwuwuwu i swear we broke up earlier, like I didn't realize you were already flirting with me a few months after your wedding cake to Daniel retroactively. Mark'll get his when you get bored with him. I'm fine with waiting.
bitch truly wrote like a 5 page post. I went crosseyed at her justifying Hermes Appearing As My Roleplay Character and like acting like she's preaching about his forms like crows when LMAO?? HELLO, DUMB CUNT, HAVE YOU MISSED THE LAST YEAR? Then I saw her just realigning history to make herself look better to whatever group of suckers she's twisting up and just clicked out cuz aint nobody got time for that. Yeah bitch he sure do be a raven or crow, look around you. Penance with white glove service, take the double slap. He has put his fucking gloves on and is OVER IT.
Yeah, I'll be a pagan gatekeeper. Fake cunts not allowed. Get 7=4->9=2 bitch oh you don't actually know shit to understand the fuck I'm saying.
"Gatekeeping" like understanding the finer workings of the cosmos is a party I'm excluding you from that you're entitled to while putting on your cybersex robe and wizard cap. People like you are why people don't take practicioners seriously in the same sense that guys like mark are why people don't take us trans guys seriously. Go back to your weirdo 5D lightspace flat earth facebook groups that convince you that black candle tying return to sender does no harm because you collectively had like 5 IQ points in the entire group while you screamed bloody murder about the evils of lemons, which literally wilted and died in your presence, because you are toxic. I'll go back to my stuff that gets DOD agents asking me How The Fuck. We are not the same.
Like holy shit. As a self-sworn Khaote that rejected lodges after my 7=4 because I disapproved of their closed door policy, I see dumb bitches like this yelling about why gods will show up as their ex boyfriends roleplay characters STOOPID GATEKEEPER and go. Oh. that's why. Nevermind. Carry on, old dudes. jesus christ I'm over here wrestling with the guilt of 8 dead in a butterfly effect that's tangibly trackable to my works and she really do be screaming "Gatekeeper, I can RL RP hermes with the pagans off of your RP character because I can't fucking perceive anything else about him and I expect to be treated up there with the real people" pfffff. No. Just. No. You cannot tantrum your way into this.
Never forget-- her 5/17 date or whatever is a lie, that was the day she flipped shit about lemons, she waited another month to fuck me over
crazy ass lemon bitch
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My harmony, and storm. [ Elliott x Reader ] Stardew Valley
TW : Slight depression/anxiety
The day was awfully tiring, the scorching sun of summer makes the crops droop from the slightest gaze of the sun, clouds are nowhere to be seen. Your sunhat is not helping you at all, it might shade you yes, but the soil underneath you is as warm as the ray above you. Trickling sweat drops down to the crops beneath you which is already damp from the sprinkler, still begging for more water.
It has been tough, rather too tough for the past week.
Not your crops dying, not about the nonexistent mushroom in your cave, not about your cat scratching your bed again, or the fishes hating your rod. Summer this year, feels weird. Ah, no, maybe its not about summer, its just you.
Evelyn met you earlier this week by the town center and talked with you about the usual. Talking with her gives you slight nostalgia about your house back at home, how are your parents doing? Is your room still the same? Ah, you doubt it. As much as you love the farm and Pelican Town, the slight homesickness couldn’t be helped. But that’s just a small part of the fuel.
You have been very busy due to some high demands and requests here and there in the town. The wizard has challenged you for a mineral collection in exchange for a tool. Robin asked for tons of hard woods, and so on, and so on. You always come back home late, you would see Elliott preparing lunch and dinner from time to time, it makes you feel like he’s not prioritized, not anymore with work around.
Then the questions linger in your head, would he leave me? What if he’s tired of me? The thoughts would kill you some nights, but his embrace would remind you countless time that he’s there, and would always be there. Will he?
The sun is already above your temple. With haste you stored your farming tools and took you pickaxe along with your mining helmet for precautions. Your footsteps alerted Elliott who’s upstairs working on his draft for an upcoming book due to high demand. You smiled at him as you quickly took an apple from the counter quickly to head to the mines,
“Dear, you’re not staying for brunch?” He asked as he head downstairs and walked towards you, tucking some of your messy hair from the work earlier behind your ear. His glasses might cloud some of his expression but his concern is clear.
“You haven’t ate much since morning...We haven’t get to spend much time together.”
You lightly shake your head and pecked his palm where it was resting on your left cheek, caressing it softly.
“Tonight, I promise you, alright?” There was a slight hesitance from him but he sighs in defeat and waves you goodbye. The sun makes it way to the edge of horizon while you’re beneath the earth, the troublesome slimes and other beings makes it hard for you to pay attention how long has it been since you last been on the surface. But a quick slap from the bat makes you take a look on your watch.
8:45
Oh, crap.
Heck you’re too late for dinner by now. You escaped narrowly from the boulders and the other monsters that was being pesky throughout the whole level of the mine and quickly you made your way to the farm.
By the time you got there, the lanterns are warmly lit, reminding you the warmth of your cushion and the fireplace. Nighttime during summer gets really ambiguous, sometimes by the time you’re home it would have slight rain shower, or it would still be scorching hot. This time, the rain is trickling over your nose.
As soon as you enter the house, Elliott was still reviewing his draft by the dining table, he already washed his dishes while your food is still there by the other end of the table. He looks at you and helped you to get out of your boots and put away your mining tool, the slight tug of smile made you calm a little. He’s not mad, is he?
“Eat for a moment yeah? I’ll prepare the bath while you’re eating” He lets you eat by the dining table as he walked away. You couldn’t help but to look at the piles of paper on the table at the other side, some of them has unreadable scribbles, some of them are with exclamation marks or circles. But one paper catches your eye, its a piece of paper with many crossed out words except a few by the bottom,
“...changed, I don’t feel the same. Should I-”
You couldn’t make out the few last words, but it somehow build up some thoughts in your head. What is it about? Is it about him? Me? Us? No. You’re not liking this, maybe a quick meal and a deep sleep would help this all to go away, right?
Elliott came back from the bathroom and made a short talk between you, he still worries you like always, but you couldn’t help to feel like something is truly off, as if he’s hiding something. The warm bathe doesn’t help much but it did ease off your tense muscle from mining.
The lights from the living room are turned off already, Elliott is sitting up straight, leaning against the headboard as he reads one of his books, looking as concentrated as ever. As you join him in bed he gave you a small peck on the lips, giving you head rubs.
“Would you like me to let you sleep in tomorrow?” You shake your head a no, snuggling more in the blanket.
“I still have so many things to do tomorrow, El. I would love to but, you know...” For a moment he stopped reading and placed the book by the stand, he looks at you with the same look he would give you if you ever complained about how the crops keep getting picked on by the crows. In defeat.
“Dear, I know you love the farm with your whole soul. But rest for a bit... I’ve been missing our times together. Not that I dislike seeing you in the farm only. But lately, it’s not quite the same.” You could see the same pair of eyes from earlier, he’s tired.
“But...You know how important it is to take care of the farm right? I had to keep up with the townspeople needs too. There’s so much demands lately, its tiring you know. I promise-” You stop for a moment as he looks like he’s about to say something, he stopped for a moment before sighing.
“I just wished that you would let us have some time again like we used to.” There was disappointment in his voice, it made your breath hitch.
“I’m trying, I really am trying you know.” Now you’re sitting on the bed, looking disheveled and tired, still trying to defend your self. “If I can have more time I would but to keep up alone is not easy..”
“I’m also keeping up, darling. Its lonely without you here, its not easy, the house doesn’t feel as lively. I’m tired too.” The gaze in his emerald orbs are different this time, you cant help but to feel you’re slightly taken aback by his words.
“I-, you know, lets forget about this talk, it is no good to keep you up with this stress. Please sleep darling, we’ll talk again tomorrow. I’m going to get some water.” He caress one of your hand before leaving as he turns off the lights, now you’re all alone in your room with the night lamp accompanying you.
You never wanted to hide so much before, now you’re just underneath the blankets hiding almost your whole body.
Not long after, the door creaks again, you pretend to be fast asleep as you faced the other way to your side of the room. The bed shifts as he tucked himself in, you could feel him moving around but it doesn't feels like he's inching closer to you, the space between you two adds to the bitterness inside you. He doesn't even want to get close.
As the rain pours outside, cancelling both of your voices. You can feel him getting much more relaxed meaning he's fast asleep now. And you, still wide awake for Yoba knows how long. It's suffocating to stay like this.
You made your way outside to the kitchen, making very little noises as possible to prevent him from waking up. And there you sat with a half empty glass of water, the dim wall lamp accompanies you in the rainy night. You couldn't help but to feel he's right, you didn't manage to get yourselves some time alone, not even the slightest, it must've been bad for him being left alone while you're busy with the farm and Townspeople.
The tiny bead of tears slowly roll down your cheeks, and soon it would feel like a stream pouring down from your face. You would wipe away the tears from your cheeks with your palm, trying to maintain your breathing as hard as possible. It would be your last wish to wake Elliott from his slumber and see you like this, you could slightly imagine what it would be like, adding fuel to the fire.
Wrapping yourself with your arms, you rest them on the table, burying your face on your arms. The sound of rain pouring makes you wished that it wasn't so lonely in the house, and so, you stood up and walked towards the front door, making sure to close the door carefully not to wake Elliott, sitting by the rattan chair.
From your porch, the look of your farm is not too dark with the lights you had put up, but the rain made it rather blurry and gives you a melancholic feeling, feeding more into your sadness.
This unbearable confusion, stess and sadness, all in one.
You curled up even more on the chair, now trying to hug your knees to your chest, keeping yourself company and warm while watching the rain pour, although you are rather glad it is not a thunderstorm but rather a heavy rain. If not, you'll be soaked wet by now from the changing wind current.
As your head races with a thousand thoughts on what could have possibly happen tomorrow, today's hard labour took a toll on your heavy eyes as you slowly drifted away into slumber, accompanied by the pouring rain which made you feel like you're not weeping alone.
Deep in your slumber, it felt like something was moving, as if you're being carried away by a boat in the sea. Being on Limbo, you couldn't really understand what is happening until your mind could not resist the temptation of deep slumber and fall asleep again.
Not long after, your body felt something different, there's something soft beneath you and you could no longer clearly hear the noise of the rain, and there is clearly someone next to you now.
As you opened your eyes, you are met with Elliott's chest, and sensing that you're awake he brushes his hand down your hair and rubs your back, pulling you closer than before. There might not be any light in the room but from the porch lamp outside, you could make out some of his features.
His eyes looks rather hurt and sad, although he did try his best to give you a smile as he brushes his hand through your hair.
"I knew that my words wouldn't ease you for the night, and to find you gone nowhere beside me.. It hurts, but to find you outside while the rain is pouring and a face with tears, I'd rather be suffocated than to let you through that, I am so sorry my love-" He was quick to dive in to embrace you, his heartbeat was rather fast perhaps from the panic that he had.
You wrapped your arms around him, adding more to the warmth and closing the space between the two of you.
"I should be the one who's sorry... I was vacant, gone, and it made your life like hell, as if I was never there.. I'm so sorry Elliott" you could slightly feel the lump on your throat, tiny drops of tears rolling down your cheek now staining his shirt too.
"Darling, no need to weep again please... We'll make this work, alright? Rest now dear, tomorrow is a long day.. " He shushed you softly as he kept rubbing your back, trying to ease your mind and heart as the two of you slowly falls asleep.
#elliott#elliott stardew valley#elliott sdv#stardew valley#imagines#oneshot#angst#comfort#im sad lol#no really#fiction#xreader#elliott x farmer#elliott x reader#hurt#domestic
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My Family Always Said that I'm the bad Child
Trigger warning: verbal abuse, physical abuse
My family always said I was the bad child
Throwing me away into the bad pile
London, England 1961
It had been a stormy week in London, which wasn't unusual for the coastal city situated on the British isles but for a young boy hidden away in a magical manor, being cooped up and unable to take even a step outside of his home was causing him to be well antsy. Pacing back and forth between the dark green curtains and the worn out old black couches in the dreary mansion that he called home he peaked through the window every three or four minutes to check to see if the rain had let up, much to the annoyance of his mother who was occupying the couch with a newborn in her arms.
“Will you please stop that incessant pacing Sirius! It’s unbecoming and is driving me mad,” the Black haired woman snapped as she shifted the newborn to her other nipple, hoping the other boob would be sufficient enough to feed her second son who was whimpering from hunger, even though he had just fed on her other breast.
“But I’m bored mama… there’s nothing to do. Can’t I go outside and play,” Sirius asked in a voice that was a bit slurred as his toddler pronunciation wasn't the best, but he was trying. Turning to face his mother, the grey starry eyed toddler pulled out his best puppy dog eyes that always seemed to work on his cousins Andromeda and Narcissa and sometimes even his uncle Alphard. Sadly, it didn't have the same effect on his mother who’s glare only hardened at the young toddler for even suggesting such an absurd thing.
“I have told you this before. No you can not go outside. What would you even do? Play with the muggles in the neighborhood?! You’re a wizard Sirius, the heir to the noble house of Black. Its about time you start acting like it and stop this useless whining. Now make yourself productive and fetch me Regulus’s bottle,” Walburga huffed in exasperation, hoping that her young son would take the hint and leave the room even. There was truly no need for him to go fetch the baby’s bottle, with a snap of her fingers or more commonly a loud yell at the top of her lungs, their house elf would appear and graciously take the baby and feed it its bottle too. But she couldn't have that, not when this was a prime opportunity to make her oldest child leave her alone for a few precious minutes. Sirius Orion Black, her first born was only two years old and he was always testing her limits. Always curious, always questioning the order of things, too bold for his own good and it was unnerving. Why couldn't he just let things be!
“But I want to play outside…”
“Sirius! When I ask you to do something you do it! Now go get Regulus’s bottle or so help me you will never set foot outside this house until you go to become an adult,” the older Black snapped back causing the baby in her arm who was sucking her tit in vain to unlatch and let out a woeful cry at the loud noise that his mother had made.
“Merlin’s beard, you see what you’ve done! You upset Regulus,” Walburga spat before she turned to the tiny red faced infant and tried to calm him down by standing up and gently bouncing him in her arms. Concerned for his younger brother, Sirius promptly appeared next to his mother’s side, pulling on her dark green velvet dress to try to get her attention so that she could give him Regulus so that he could apologize to the baby for upsetting him.
“Reggie, don't cry… your big brother is sorry,” Sirius spoke softly hoping his voice would help soothe his younger brother only to catch the eye of his mother instead who managed to shift the entire weight of Regulus’s head and body into the crook of left arm and with her right hand she violently swatted at Sirius’s tiny grasp on her dress, effectively slapping his hand away and making the young child visibly flinch at the visceral reaction of his mother.
“If you were actually sorry you would fetch him his bottle like I told you to! Why must I have to repeat myself with you! When I tell you to do something, you do it! Go fetch him his bottle… Now,” Walburga nearly roared as in her anger, her magic lashed out and shook the room that they were residing in, frightening both her sons, the youngest who's wailing only got louder and the oldest who ran out the room in search of the bottle she was asking for. Only he didn't leave fast enough, since as he was exiting he overheard something young ears ought to not have to hear.
“There there Regulus. My sweet baby boy, I hope you never turn out like your rebellious older brother, “ she cooed to the infant as a young Sirius stood against the wall just outside of the room with tears pricking his eyes before he quickly wiped them away.
“Don’t worry Reggie, your big brother will bring your bottle quickly,” Sirius reassured himself as he set off to search for Kreacher who knew all about where the household items and baby care things were kept.
#harry potter#writing#fanfic#song fic#young sirius black#headcanon#sirius black#walburga black#regulus black#lyrics
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mars reads too much dreamnotfound fanfiction for their own good
a dreamnotfound fanfic recommendation list by your resident dumbass (me)
this took way to fucking long... i’m tired
below is a (very extensive) list dedicated to all my favorite dnf fics, ranging from quick one shots to 100k+ word monstrosities that devour the storage on my computer, forever incomplete masterpieces to ongoing works of art, you get the idea. i provided links for each fic/series for your reading pleasure. there will be no smutty/nsfw fics on this list, that’s just not my vibe lmao. this list goes in no particular order, and i’ll update it from time to time when i feel like it. now, without further ado, let us begin.
Heat Waves (complete) by tbhyourelame
(wtf else did you expect, looking at a dnf rec list?) amazingly well written, and while it’s not my favorite dnf fic it’s damn near close. in the midst of a brutal heatwave, a suffering dream comes to terms with the fact that he is desperately in love with his best friend. everything i could say about this fic has already been said by nearly everyone who’s read it, so if you haven’t yet caved into the hype, just go for it. you won’t be disappointed.
Gonna be around (completed) by georgescatcafe
(mc irl) my favorite dnf oneshot to date. just read it, i don’t wanna spoil for you :)
Inferno in the Sky (ongoing)by zairielon
(star wars au) an ongoing star wars au currently clocking in at almost 200k words. need I say more? everything about it absolutely slaps, each chapter is amazingly written, and it’s just good. also, can we just appreciate dream and tubbos dynamic in here? 10/10, amazing, must protecc. oh right, a summary: george, an exiled padawan turned engineer, must return to the jedi temple after attacks on it from an unknown assailant threaten the safety of himself and the other jedi.
Like Magic (ongoing) by KangarooKen, NotGra55 (Gra55)
(harry potter au) the unofficial official dnf harry potter au. we watch the young unlikely wizard pair grow up together throughout their years at hogwarts as they battle good old fashioned wizard racism. beautifully written, incredibly fun and suspenseful, and just an overall blast and a half.
GeorgeNotFound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods (ongoing) by Clichewho_69, Cygnvs, Trash_Kinggg
(percy jackson au) percy jackson au? check. “road trip” (technically quest but u get what i mean)? check. enemies to friends to lovers? check. this fic follows the plot of the lightning theif (albeit loosely), but everything is explained enough where you don’t have to read percy jackson to understand what’s going on. basically after moving to the usa, george gets taken to camp halfblood where he learns that a) gods exist. b) he’s the son of poseidon and c) he needs to prove that he didn’t steal zeus’s master bolt.
Protected (completed) by aenqua
(royalty/camelot au) my favorite piece of dnf media of all time. dubbed the official dnf camelot au, where dream is the heir to the throne and george is a servants son with a secret that couldp get him killed. these childhood friends grow up together and learn trust, love, and acceptance. (that summary did not justice to the masterpiece that is this fic) here’s the directors cut
The Hunter (completed) by HederEgo
(mc irl) a choose your own adventure fic with 13 different endings, where dream the hunter must kill george and stop him from beater the ender dragon. enough said.
The official dream team cowboy AU (series)(ongoing) by antsu_in_my_pantsu
(cowboy au) cowboys and outlaws horses and shit. and the big gay. it’s a cowboy au, what else did you expect? fucking yee haw (all seriousness this is a great read, i loved it so so so so much and i can’t wait for the final chapter to release).
This is a Drista moment, let's just accept it (completed) by Qekyo
dnf fic from drista pov. considering its unique perspective, it’s perfectly done. beautifully showcases a sibling relationship through drista and her memories/moments with dream, and it just works, y’a know? also drista supremacy.
Dear Dream (completed) by Qekyo
(wwii au) i don’t cry when watching/reading anything sad. translation: i’m a heartless bitch. however, this fic is the only exception. it caused me to cry so hard my mom walked in my room and asked if i was ok. ‘nuff said.
TECHNOlogical Wingman (completed) by Closeted_Bookworm
techno is the autocorrect ai on dreams phone, and he gains sentience. interesting concept, and the author fucking nailed it. great fic.
It Was Only a Fic (ongoing) by imagineitdear
dream starts reading a dnf fanfic (we’ve all been there buddy).
Teacher’s Pet (ongoing) by niyuha
(teacher au) in which dream is a high school english teacher and george is the new comp sci teacher in room 297.
Saltwater Secrets (ongoing) by earlgay_milktea
(mermaid/high school au) a great example of the shear amount of variety in fics this fandom has to offer. when i started reading dnf fics i would have never thought i’d find one about a mermaid george hopelessly crushing on his human friend, who happens to be his schools star swimmer. yet here i am, and i am far from disappointed.
Smash My Heart (incomplete) by dontrollthedice
george and sapnap are commentators for duper smash brothers tournaments, and george develops a crush on an up and coming smash streamer named dream.
roleplaying in the dark is harder than it seems (completed) by Alienu
laser tag. 10/10
solar system (completed) by quartzfia
(mc irl) george vists dream in pandora’s vault.
Ramblings of a Lunatic (completed) by jungkooksfic
ahh communicating through a notebook left on a shelf in a bookstore- what a perfect way to start a relationship.
Paint me like your French Girls (It's Charcoal, Actually) (completed) by Turtle_ier
(artist au) george is an art student, and dream is a model.
00:00:00 (completed) by isleofdreams
(soulmate au) 00:00:00 is the moment you meet your soulmate, as indicated but the clock ticking down on your wrist until the moment you meet. i’m not a fan of soulmate aus; this fic is the exception.
Blue Skies Smilin' At Me (completed) by kivy
(artist au) i don’t usually cry while reading stuff, but this brought me damn near close. george is a painting conservator and chats it is with the ghost of the artist if the painting he is working on. they fall in a love.
Current Location (incomplete) by hendollana
(influencer au) george simps for a hot american instagram model. who knew he’d actually follow back?
The Withering (series) (series ongoing, 1 work completed) by App1e_Juice
(mc irl) lore and world building and fight scenes and everything i crave. what’s not to love? something starts making the plants and crops around dreams village wither, and must team up with new friends to find the cause of the mysterious disease plaguing the land.
Minecraft, But You Can't Leave (complete) by facadecake
(mc irl) dream and george are sucked into their own private minecraft world together and must beat the game to escape.
Free The Game, Beat the End (incomplete) by goatgoatwasfound
(mc irl) a glitch in minecraft causes thousands of players from around the world to be trapped inside minecraft, with only one way of escape- beating the ender dragon. first dnf fic i ever read, and it’s still 10/10 for me.
Why don't you come a little closer? (completed) by lifeofandoms
george gets stood up by a date, and Dream pretends he’s the date to save george from the embarrassment. simply adorable.
lightning bug (completed) by saintachesP
(band au) while on tour, dream realizes his feeling for george.
Hold me closer (completed) by Treesofmyheart
(mc irl/dsmp) i just,, really like this trope.
Dizzy on caffeine (completed) by GleamingGreenGoggles
(coffee shop au) best dnf coffeeshop au i’ve read. periodt.
living a life of crime isn’t always easy (series) (completed) by itisjosh
(mafia/assassin au) stockholm syndrome except it’s not weird.
Inhibitions Make Interesting Situations (completed) by Ship_On_The_Sea
i pissed myself laughing. it’s just a dream and george being hilariously dense, flustered idiots. serotonin central.
thy eternal summer shall not fade (completed) by gracequills
(high school au) that moment when you recite shakespeare to your crush in your ap lit class instead of confessing (hate it when that happens).
All is Fair in love and Football (ongoing) by graciegirl2001
(college au) #1 favorite college au. in which george is a cheerleader, and dream is the football teams rising star player. this one gets extra points because of the amazing karlnap moments sprinkled throughout. *chefs kisses air*
online love (completed) by andbutso
(high school au) online classes go zoooooooom
Can’t help falling (completed) by isleofdreams
dream re-learns the guitar to sing to george on his birthday. beautiful. fluffy. amazing
dance in the rain and my arms (completed) by lazy_kitkat
george is a rain god, and dream is a wind god
Weather Boy (completed) by DaintyDiizzle
wouldn't you like to know, weather boy? (where dream can control the rain)
The color orange (completed) by anon
(mc irl) dream describes the colors of a sunset
Family Mode (completed)by Strawberry_flavoured_tears
they’re dads :,)
Breathing Room (incomplete) by papercranes
(band an) an amazing band au. the mad lad author wrote original songs for each chapter. above and beyond, mad props :). unfortunately, it’s incomplete
Piece of Clay (completed) by carbonbrine
(artist au) george is a sculptor and his sculpture comes to life- but oh no he’s hot.
Try (completed) by Not4typicalwriter
(royalty au) george must choose a suitor, but none of them are up to dream, his head knights, standards. or dream is hella jelly. also protective dream is perfect
When the Roses Bloom (completed) by HederEgo
(royalty au) close second for my favorite fic. go to royalty au for a quick serotonin bost. it’s all fluff and flowers and crushes, and i love it. criminally underrated.
Heavenstruck (ongoing) by dontrollthedice
george is dreams guardian angel, and dream want to find out more about him and his past life. bittersweet :,)
Bang and Burn (completed) by App1e_Juice
(spy au) george accidentally falls for target number 1 on sapnap’s secret agency’s hit list. this ones great, i love me a spy au :)
Can I get a uhh… (completed) by lemonskies
dream keeps pulling up to the drive through mcdonald’s that george works at drunk.
Pretty Stranger (completed) by anon
when looking for dream in the terminal, george sees a cute guy and decides to flirt.
Take my Hand (completed) by latinbias
(royalty au) another royalty au? poggers. surprise twists? double poggers. love this a lot.
seconds, minutes, hours, lifetimes (complete) by meridies
ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP *inhales to compose herself* roadtrip au. unrequited love, ignored feelings, longing, pining, you know the drill. absolutely love this one, its the best roadtrip au i have ever read, in any fandom. (maybe cause i identify with it a little too much, but thats not important. whats important is that you read this fic. right now. im waiting).
Message redacted (complete) by justyouraverageloser
(text fic) dream asks for a girls number and realises hes been given the wrong number. however, an unexpected relationship starts to form between him and the stranger on the other end of the line.
the waves (completed) by anon
(mc irl) this fic was written by the same anon who wrote the color orange, which is up there on my fav dnf oneshot list. dream and george know they have a higher purpose. they don’t know where they came from, or why they are seemingly the only humans in the world, or how they feel about eachother, or even where the skeletons come from, but they are sure of one thing: they have to beat a dragon.
The Dream Doll (completed) by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)
(voodoo i guess) i’m a real big fan of fics with really out there or unique concepts, so naturally this one makes the cut! i really liked it, it’s really sweet and made me think a lot about what matters to me in the world. george finds a strange doll in an antique shop, and would really like to just stuff it in a drawer and forget about it. sadly (?), the doll has other plans.
last updated February 6th, 2021
#dnf#dreamnotfound#dream not found#dreamnotfound fic#dreamnotfound fanfic#dreamnotfound fanfiction#dnf fic#dnf fanfic#dnf fanfiction#dnf fic rec#dreamnotfound fanfiction recommendations#dreamwastaken#georgenotfound#i’m ok i swear#i read too much fanfiction#i should probably go to bed
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Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)
You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)
"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"
"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."
"I'll talk to that fu-"
"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.
Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."
He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.
"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"
Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."
"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."
Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.
Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.
"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.
(Read more below the cut)
Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."
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Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.
They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.
Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.
Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.
He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.
After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.
He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.
With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.
While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.
Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.
"Made dinner," he said casually.
Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."
"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.
Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.
"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.
"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.
"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."
Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."
He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."
"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.
Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."
His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."
"Sorry?"
He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.
Harry blinked, "That's amazing."
"Shut up."
"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."
"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"
"Is that what earlier was about?"
Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"
"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"
"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.
"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.
Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"
"Told me what?" Harry asked.
"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"
"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.
"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."
"I-"
"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"
He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."
"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."
Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."
"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."
Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.
"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."
He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."
"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."
"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"
Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."
Harry frowned.
"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."
"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."
"Be that as it may-"
"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."
Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."
Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."
A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.
"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.
The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.
And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days#one year of drarry drabbles#drarry#ficlet#drarry ficlet#drarry drabbles#enemies to friends#slow burn apparently#see you in part 4 tomorrow#domestic#cooking
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Three is a Crowd
Pair: Remus Lupin x Reader x Sirius Black; he/him.
Summary: Sirius, you and Remus weren't scared to hide your relationship, but when it came to more.. Private matters, they obviously preferred keeping it personal. Plus, who doesn't love teasing Remus?
Warnings: SMUT (MDI), dirty talk, poly relationship, Wolfstar (but is that even a warning?), hair pulling, short mention of daddy. use of a collar at the end. If I missed any, please dm me.
Notes: Me, knowing damn well I have a busy life, but takes every request I get because I can’t say no. Oh, and the gif by me using other people's gifs- Might make a part two. Top Remus tho.
~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~
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It wasn’t hard to catch the boy's attention. James and Lily loved to joke that they were wrapped around your finger, which they were. All you had to do was sway your hips a little bit or bend over right or just lick your lips innocently. They really were, they weren't afraid to admit it and of course you used it to your advantage, but you still love them. That always came first.
Sirius and Remus had fallen head over heels for you during their time during Hogwarts. Both could pinpoint it exactly. The two men were already an item when you showed up at the school- a transfer student. You were introduced to them by Lily, something about you being a distant cousin of hers and you quickly became a new founded Marauder.
Remus fell for you first. It was around the time they were all studying to become animagus and he discovered you were bloody brilliant! After months of struggling with the stupid ritual, you were the final piece they needed to figure it all out. And you didn’t judge him over something he couldn’t control, so that was a bonus to him, of course. But how could you judge him for his lycanthropy? Almost everyone in the wizarding world hated him for this one simple thing,
Meanwhile, Sirius’ was a lot more simple. He noticed you by your slick comebacks. Like holy Merlin’s beard- Sirius was convinced your words could cause someone to physically combust. He’d never seen that happen, but he has seen you make 8th years cry. He’s also a hundred percent certain you have a thesaurus lying under your pillow. He didn’t know the word ‘imbecile’ had so many synonyms. And you helped him help his best friend so of course he fell in love with you.
So, when you fell for them, a natural love for being between both boys formed. This random craving would kick in whenever you were around the two of them. Whether it was you three walking to the next class or sitting in the Gryffindor common room, you just had to be between them. It was quite literally your favorite place on this planet. But there were rules- of course there were.
One of the main rules was no teasing in front of friends. Believe it or not, James had a limit on how much sexual tension he could sit through in one lunch period, so he enforced the rule, which was.. Unusual to say the least. Usually Remus created the rules to keep you and Sirius in check. He had a switch and a sub under his belt and it could be a struggle, especially when they were bratty and they’d team up against him.
Which is exactly what you two had been doing all day; harassing poor Moony despite whoever was near. During potions, Sirius had palmed Remus while you playfully whispered in the werewolf’s ear, calling him daddy and asking for help with your most innocent voice. Watching your boyfriend squirm and slap Sirius’ hand away was genuinely humorous. It became down right funny when he threatened to punish both of you by not talking to you, but you both knew he’d do more than that. Knowing Remus would drag you both by your ties to the dorm room and straight up ruin you two, you both eased off him, letting him continue his notes in peace, but once potions were over, the teasing immediately continued.
Soon enough, classes were over and the three of you were walking back to the dorms. It was easy to see Remus was sick of your shit, so while he led you to his prefect room, you and Sirius were looking at each other. Sirius shrugged, looking as laid back as he felt, but you were a tad more nervous. Sometimes Remus could be downright mean.
“You two are insufferable!” Remus hollered, his hand rubbing his temple as he shoved open his door. “I know you love my reactions, guys, but seriously? Was grabbing my ass over my robe necessary?” He had his arms crossed over his chest and turned around to glare at you and Sirius.
“You know it was, baby.” Sirius winked while shutting the door behind him. He walked around you, dragging a hand across your lower back before diving onto Remus’ bed. He laid on his back, spreading his legs and placing his hands behind his head. Your eyes shamelessly dragged across the sliver of pelvic bone peaking out under his white collared shirt.
“I thought it was a bit much.” You shrugged, looking over to Moony’s glowing eyes. A smirk grew across your lips when he pointed at you, his eyes narrowing at you.
“Being a kiss ass does not mean you’re free, mister. You’re in just as much trouble as that one.” His point moved to the man laying on the bed, who clearly couldn’t care less. He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down onto the edge of the bed. He even smacked Sirius’ hand away when it gripped his hip. “Down, boy.”
“Ouchies! My pride.” Sirius mocked your voice and rubbed his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. His dark eyes flicked over to you, his smirk growing as he nodded his head in the direction of Remus’ back.
“Good. I’m mad at you.” The werewolf ducked his head down before running a hand through his hair, making the curly locks messier than usual. He beckoned you over with two curling fingers and waited patiently for you to stand in front of him. Once you were in arms reach, he cupped both of your cheeks in each hand and smiled at you, bringing your face closer to his. “What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips.
“I’m not sure, but I know Sirius technically did more damage than I did. I’m your bestest boy.” You grinned, grabbing his wrists and kissing a palm. Your grin turned into a side smirk when Sirius let out a weak ‘hey!’ behind your brunette boyfriend.
Suddenly, Remus’ arms were twisting around your waist and he was falling backwards onto the bed, taking you down with him. You let out a yelp while colliding with your soft boyfriend's chest.
“I think I know what I’m going to do with you.” Remus’ head was resting on Sirius’ tummy, allowing the animagus to run his fingers through soft hazel nut locks, which Remus easily ignored. Meanwhile, Lupin was cheekily slipping his hand under your shirt. His calloused palms glided across your skin, rubbing your hip gently before moving up to your belly. “I’m going to ignore the little bastard behind me and I’m going to focus on you, pretty boy.”
“Hey! (Y/n) messed with you too, Rem! You’re being unfair!” Sirius sat up a little, bracing his body weight on his elbows as he glared down at his freckle covered partner. His jaw dropped when Remus flicked his nose before skillfully tugging your shirt over your head. “Un-fuckin’-believable.” Sirius grumbled, laying back on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Your smart mouth is why I’m ignoring you.” Remus spoke nonchalantly, one hand slipped into your back pocket, gave your butt a tight squeeze, while the other steadily began climbing toward your chest. His hand in your pocket held your hips down while his hips grinded up into yours. His eyes darkened at the needy whine that left your lips when his rough thumb pad ran over one of your nipple.
See, Remus always enjoyed seeing you react to him. He could write down all of it. He could fill enough books with his favorite things about you to cause an empty Hogwarts library to overflow. How your eyes would roll back into your skull, how your jaw would go slack with need and how your breath catches in the middle of your throat, leaving you breathless, how you’d moan his name. He loved wrecking you, utterly destroying you.
His scar covered hand moved up to your hip, getting a steadier grip so he could really raise his hips and roll them against yours. The hand on his chest delicately rolled a nipple between the thumb and forefinger. He thought you were a piece of art, painted just for him. Your heart was pounding in your ears. Remus was quickly becoming the only coherent thought in your head. You could smell his perfume and it was only fogging up your head worse than his touch. You let out a moan, your eyelids drooping a tad.
"You like that, baby?" he whispered into your open mouth, kissing the corner before sliding his lips down to the corner of your jaw. He licked a fat, flat line across the point, running up to your earlobe before sucking on it.
The werewolf grinded up into you harder, a growl emitting from his throat that would scare even the toughest of creatures. He let out a loud, breathy loan when you nodded and copied his hip movements.
"Of course you do. You're not a brat or a whiney bitch- you're perfect."
Suddenly, Sirius was sitting up and Remus was going silent, almost frozen in his place. Both were listening quite intently over your heavy breathing when loud, stomping footprints made themselves known. Sirius watched in amusement while Remus threw you on to the empty bed space next to him and magicked a blanket over the both of you.
James was pushing open the door about as loudly and hazardously as his footsteps. The door bounced off the wall and collided with his still outstretched arm. You sat up, slowly coming back from the pleasure filled bliss, and slowly becoming more and more pissed you just got cock-blocked by one of your more oblivious friends.
“James, sorry, mate, we’re in the mi-” Sirius was rudely cut off by the messy haired idiot. Spit flew from James’ mouth as he spoke aggressively, his hand waving around as he spoke.
"Can you believe him?!" the Seeker hollered, acting as if his friends, best friends knew immediately what he was talking about. He strode into the middle of the room, pacing in front of the polygamous couple, clearly pissed. It didn't take long for Peter to follow in after, either.
"No, Prongs, you're not exactly telling us anything." Remus spoke up, acting as if he totally wasn't just grinding against you. He was good at keeping his voice level and that it had you confused.
"Little Sour Grape Snape thinks he can try to push that whole fiasco on me like I meant for it to happen?" James yelled out again, almost completely ignoring Remus. Peter sat on the bed across from the trio, his eyes glued to James as he paced. You looked at Sirius, who turned to you, and shrugged, scooting to sit right next to Remus.
"Wanna share what's goin' on, Pete?" Sirius asked, finally scooting to be face to face with the soft boy, and sitting on the other side of Remus. His hand landed on Remus' thigh, gently rubbing over the blanket.
The chubby boy played with his fingers, his mouth opening quickly to tell the tale of Snape and his stupid complaining and blood status shit. However, Remus, nor you, could focus because Sirius’ hand was moving under the blanket and going straight between Remus’ legs.
The sun was setting behind the vast forest, effectively blocking natural light, leaving the room slightly colder and darker than before. Sirius knew it was hard to see what was going on under the blanket, so all carefulness got thrown out the window.
Sirius' hand slid between Remus' thighs, using a hand to hide his smirk. He nodded his head along, as if he was really listening and invested in the story. You turned to Sirius, following his arm and the lump under the blanket and got the idea- and it only became reinforced when Sirius gave you a dramatic wink.
Your own hand slid under the blanket, landing on your werewolf boyfriend's knee, you thumb caressing it gently. Your hand didn’t stay there long. You began to move it up, moving slowly, just inch by inch, stopping suddenly when Remus’ hand clamped around your wrist.
“Boys, stop it.” Remus growled out, but it seemed more directed to Sirius. You were worried for a second that James or Peter heard, but when they kept going on and on, delving deeper and deeper into the story, you realized they were absolutely clueless. You decided to test the waters, slowly running your hand down and then back up, a tad higher, but Moony left his hand on your wrist.
“I said, cut it out. Now.” The brunette’s voice was deep enough to cause a shudder to go down your spine and it went straight to your dick. You jumped when his hand landed on your thigh, giving you a warning squeeze that you once again ignored and moved your hand closer to the inside of his thigh.
You felt fingers run over yours at the top of his thigh and suddenly Remus’ thigh muscles were tightening. Padfoot had run his fingers over his hard-on. You knew you were both pushing it, but you kept going. You heard the brunette groan into his hand, his eyelids fluttering for a second before his gaze hardened and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. You could hear the low growl emitting from this throat.
So while James and Peter told their elaborate and stupidly long story, you both teased your partner, enjoying how he tried to sit still and refused to even look at you two. Remus’ jaw was pulled tight, his eyes darker than the night, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Eventually, it came to an end, and the two left, James complaining loudly that no one cared like he did and suddenly the blanket was thrown across the room.
Remus stood up, giving you a glare that you couldn’t help but find hot as hell. You always loved riling him up, but you also loved managing to wiggle out of punishments. Sirius always bitched about you getting away nearly scot free, but you’d just blow raspberries at him. It was funny, honestly, not that you were laughing now. It was clear both of you took it too far.
“You two are in a whole heap of fucking trouble. I can not believe you today, especially you. You’re such a bad influence on my baby.” Remus pointed at Sirius, his brows drawn tight together in pure anger. His eyes were lit up like with fire and the veins on his neck were protruding from underneath the skin in the sexiest way. The simple feature had you clenching your thighs, hoping to release some tension or get a touch or something.
“Our baby. Besides, you’re overreacting Rem.” Sirius shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He blew a stand of hair out of his face, acting like everything was fine and dandy while his boyfriend had steam blowing out of his ears.
His simple sentence caused the brunette’s eye to twitch and you knew he had dug himself a bigger whole. You put your hands in your lap like a good boy and sat, watching the two argue, knowing it was going to be a very long night.
“Oh. I’m overreacting, huh? Do you wanna say that again?” His tone was so flat, almost like he was talking to an idiotic teenager who did exactly what he was told not to do, the messy haired animagus was sitting up quickly, realizing he fucked up- again.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant, baby, you’re getting my words twisted. I meant it’s my fault and that you might be getting a tad carried away. Please don’t be mad at me.” Sirius put on his most dazzling smile and softest voice. He was trying to do what you did so well and wiggle his way out of punishments. “Have I ever mentioned how hot you look when you're mad?”
It was funny, really, how Sirius was saying exactly what you were thinking.
“No, dove, I’m not mad at you.” Remus threaded his hand slowly through Sirius' wavy hair, a small, sweet smile spread across his cheeks. Sirius let out a sigh, a huge grin matching his boyfriends, his eyes sparkling with pure joy in the dim light.
"I'm glad you're so understanding, honey bunches. I love you so, so, so much." Sirius spoke, leaning forward, lips puckered to plant a kiss to the brunettes. You really thought he had known Moony better. Moony very, very rarely let either of you off the hook for something like this.
However, Remus didn't let him move very far. His fingers latched onto the hair at the top of Sirius' head and ripped it back, causing his neck to bend backward and a whorish moan escaped his lips. Siri’s hands shot up to grip the one tugging his head back and he had to strain his eyes to look at his Moony.
"I’m fucking livid, Sirius. You're such a slut. Surely you know me better than that. Have I ever let you get away with behavior like that?” Remus waited for an answer. He wasn’t very patient though, because soon, he was pulling on the long locks again. “Well?”
“No.” Sirius groaned out. He seemed grumpy he couldn’t cute his way out of this like he was sure you could. You figured you could probably avoid the punishment by sneaking out, knowing Remus wouldn’t send a search party after you. And if you made a good enough excuse, he’d let you go with a harsh spanking and the promise of no orgasms for the day, which didn’t seem too terrible.
“Do I have to treat you like a slut?" his lips pressed against a pulse point but didn't place a single kiss to Sirius' lips. "Maybe I should put a muzzle on your filthy mouth and tie you up. Put you in the closet while I fuck our dearest silly, hmm?"
Remus pulled away, this time tugging Sirius' eyes level with his. The werewolf let out a snicker, enjoying the way tears of pain had gathered in his boyfriends eyeline.
"I should teach you who's in charge. What do you say pumpkin?" Remus turned to the spot where you were seated and noticed it was empty. "Pumpkin?" He turned around and saw you trying to sneak out of the dorms door.
He reached into his pocket, tsking all the while casting a spell that caused a collar to appear around your neck with a pop. You let out a squeak, your heads going to the new leather.
"Do I have to put both of you in your place?” Remus pushed Sirius away and walked swiftly over to you, grabbing the d ring on the front of your collar. He gave it a tug, effectively keeping your eyes on his. “You’re not being my good boy, are you?”
“No..” Unlike Sirius, you answered quickly. You looked up at Remus, eyes wide, owlish and feigning innocence. “But I-”
“Quiet. You’re usually so good for me, darling. I bet you picked up the disrespect from our boyfriend, didn’t you? I’m gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you.” He tugged on the d-ring, dragging you with him as he walked back over to the bed. “Sirius, against the headboard.”
Without hesitation, the niorette shuffled toward the headboard, resting his back against it. He learned quickly to keep his mouth shut. With the new space made, Remus pushed you forward and laughed when your hands came out in front of you to catch your fall, but slipped on the silk bedspread. Your chest collided with the plush mattress, a pained cry leaving your lips when your knees collided with the wooden floor.
“Owie, Rem!” You turned to look back at him, but he grabbed your hair and forced your cheek against the mattress. You looked back at him, your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment and you tried to pout your way out of this, like usual.
“Shut up, bunny. Daddy’s not going easy on you this time, so be a good boy and take what I fucking give you.”
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The Death Eaters as a Cult - Part 1
This is a very lightly edited old Reddit post, that I'll publish in parts because the whole thing is like 7000 words. Analyzing Voldemort, the DE and their dynamics, Dumbledore and Harry in comparison, and individual Death Eaters. Hope you like it!
Some say Voldemort is a cartoon villain, or wizard Hitler. I think he is very realistic, and that the focus on his political aspirations ignores interesting aspects of him. I cannot prove that JKR had cults in mind when she wrote Voldemort and his followers, but this is how I read them. It’s nearly impossible to define a cult, so, for the purpose hereof, I’m going with “a group dedicated to the worship of a person”. Many cult leaders in real life present themselves merely as “god’s voice” or “the messiah”, but Voldemort specifically didn’t bother to hide behind a power higher than himself.
Tom Riddle comes from humble beginnings, like many cult leaders - he’s raised in an orphanage. He already has delusions of grandeur, only in this case they’re not delusions, because he really is magic, which makes it all the more dangerous. Look how he reacted to discovering he was a wizard, and how Harry did.
Immediately following the revelation that Lily and James did not die in a car crash, and that Harry is famous, and that he survived an attempt at his life by the worst wizard in history:
Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He’d spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn’t they been turned into warty toads every time they’d tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he’d once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?
“Hagrid,” he said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think I can be a wizard.”
Heart-breaking. Harry doesn’t believe he can be special, he blames himself for the way he’s treated.
This is Tom Riddle:
“I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic.”
There was silence. Riddle had frozen, his face expressionless, but his eyes were flickering back and forth between each of Dumbledore’s, as though trying to catch one of them lying. “Magic?” he repeated in a whisper.
“That’s right,” said Dumbledore.
“It’s... it’s magic, what I can do?”
“What is it that you can do?”
“All sorts,” breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. “I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.”
His legs were trembling. He stumbled forward and sat down on the bed again, staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer.
“I knew I was different,” he whispered to his own quivering fingers. “I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something.”
His megalomania and violent nature are already apparent, as is his preternatural control of his magic. It also hints at rudimentary legilimency.
Dumbledore spells out that young Tom Riddle equated magic with immortality and liked to collect trophies, and that Tom Riddle liked being special, as he resents the name Tom for being too common; he already lives behind a mask and only shows his true face in shock. This, and not Dumbledore’s magical prowess, is what always scared Tom. Voldemort knew Dumbledore knew what he was. That was the only tactical advantage Dumbledore had.
It’s also one of JKR’s strokes of brilliance: Dumbledore saw Tom for what Tom was, and others never did until it was too late, not because he was that clever, but because he knew from experience. Dumbledore had allowed himself to fall for a charismatic but heartless man before, and it took Ariana dying to slap him awake. Dumbledore knows good people can be led astray: It happened to him. It has nothing to do with intelligence or “goodness”. Gellert was able to give Albus exactly what Albus lacked, stuck at home taking care of Ariana: the promise of freedom and a bright future, and the companionship of an equal. Albus fell for it, despite warning signs that should have been obvious.
Later, we know Tom is chosen by a wand of yew and phoenix feather. Both yew and phoenix are associated with immortality; yew trees are very long-lived. Compare this to Harry’s wand, holly and phoenix feather: both these characters will experience death and rebirth, except Tom Riddle’s wand tree is yew, and Harry’s is holly.
From Wikipedia: “The Christian church commonly found it expedient to take over existing pre-Christian sacred sites for churches. It has also been suggested that yews were planted at religious sites as their long life was suggestive of eternity, or because, being toxic when ingested, they were seen as trees of death.” Also from Wikipedia: “Christians have identified a wealth of symbolism in the holly tree’s form. The sharpness of the leaves help to recall the crown of thorns worn by Jesus; the red berries serve as a reminder of the drops of blood that were shed for salvation; and the shape of the leaves, which resemble flames, can serve to reveal God's burning love for His people.”
The two orphans’ wildly different views of death are also apparent in their wand trees. Voldemort will murder to attain his goals; Harry will sacrifice himself. That the phoenix feather came from Fawkes is also meaningful - Dumbledore taught both magic in some capacity, but he never could defeat Voldemort, because they’re too alike. One of Harry’s advantages in this battle is the integrity of his soul, which cannot be compromised.
Next, Tom Riddle is sorted into Slytherin. For a child who is already prone to megalomania, the house values bring out the worst in him, and under Slughorn, he grows into a manipulative, cunning, ruthless young man. I’m not blaming Horace for Tom being a psychopath, but some of the particular ways his psychopathy manifested in seem to have been directly due to Slughorn’s influence. Slughorn is a blood-supremacist, who was convinced Tom must come from fine stock. Slughorn tests drinks for poison using house elves; Tom Riddle tests the effectiveness of his Horcrux’s protection on Kreacher. Slughorn emphasizes the importance of connections and outright praises Tom for knowing more than he needs to, and encourages an attitude of “it’s only wrong if you get caught.” But Slughorn, prejudiced and cunning as he is, is not violent - he is academically curious about Horcruxes, but he finds them repugnant. Tom’s heart is not so faint - at the point of asking Slughorn about Horcruxes, the diary is already a horcrux, and Tom has already murdered his father. This is how Dumbledore describes Tom’s original gang, who were the proto-Death Eaters:
As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became the first Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts. Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in the death of a girl. As you know, Hagrid was wrongly accused of that crime.
Dumbledore explains what motivated people to join Tom: some were afraid, some ambitious, some cruel. He controlled his so-called friends, and already started framing others for his own crimes (Hagrid’s framing was followed by Morfin’s and Hokey the house elf’s).
This is followed by Tom’s attempt to become a teacher (Dumbledore spells out his motivations: He is attached to the school, he wants to study its magic, and he already wants to build himself an army). He is denied, oddly chooses to work for Borgin and Burkes, a choice fueled by the desire to trace down more items to make into Horcruxes. Through the memory of the meeting with Heptzibah Smith, we see that Tom was definitely charming when he needed to be, and knew how to make people feel good. He did not use magic to trick her into showing him her precious locket and cup: he used muggle manipulation - flattery, making an old and forlorn lady feel valuable, perhaps even flirting with her (she’s certainly flirting with him). He was pleasant enough that Ms. Smith eagerly looked forward to his visits - but as she showed him her treasures, he was caught off guard by hearing about his mother and how she sold the locket, and she saw him for what he was, although she quickly fell into denial. Sadly, she was murdered two days later.
Why rely on Horcruxes to gain immortality? Tom must have known about Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher’s Stone, and the Horcruxes require someone else to perform the resurrection ritual. Either making the Stone is so hard that it would deter Tom (unlikely), or he already expected to rely on followers who would find him and revive him - he certainly seems to have expected his followers to have searched for him earlier. Maybe Horcruxes were appealing because they require murder. In any case, this is followed by the memory of Tom asking Dumbledore for the DADA job again, a decade later. Tom has spent a decade gathering followers, and he has already changed his name to Lord Voldemort. This is reminiscent of real life cult leader David Koresh, and the leaders of the Children of God, Aum Shinrikyo, etc. The meeting between Voldemort and Albus is interesting, because it’s clear that Dumbledore had tried to teach Tom about the power of love:
“The old argument,” he said softly. “But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore.”
“Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places,” suggested Dumbledore.
This did not help. Tom never learned - how could he? At 16, he was already a murderer - who could love him now for who he was? He could never be truly loved, and he could never truly love another, and he underestimated the power of love for his entire life, leading to his downfall - twice (were that it was so simple in real life).
Voldemort is trying to obfuscate the nature of the relationship, like all cults - they never admit this is what they are.
“I am glad to hear that you consider them friends,” said Dumbledore. “I was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants.”
“You are mistaken,” said Voldemort.
But LV can’t lie to Dumbledore, who changes the subject. He denies him the DADA job again, and the curse is placed on the job. LV’s ascent is due to begin in a few years. Hagrid tells the story:
Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ’em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ’cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches...
Voldemort isn’t just interested in immortality. He wants complete control. He wants everyone fearing him - even fearing his name. He has people isolated and distrustful, fearing for their lives.
But we know his reign of terror was dreadful - what I’m interested in is the way he treated his own followers. We know little about how he treated them in the first war, but we do have what Sirius had to say about Regulus’s fate:
From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don’t just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It’s a lifetime of service or death.
We know the real story of Regulus’s disappearance, and it’s different. Kreacher tells us that Regulus died in the Horcrux cave - but more telling is that Regulus forbade Kreacher from telling his parents what had happened to him. Why did he feel the need to do that? This suggests that Regulus knew LV destroyed traitors’ families, which is a tactic used in cults and other abusive dynamics. We know LV would leverage Draco’s welfare against Lucius for his failure in the Department of Mysteries, too. We know also that instead of going to Dumbledore, or to his own brother, Regulus chose death – unless he was really dumb, and I don’t think he was, he must have been manipulated into believing that was his only option, or his world made no sense after his faith had shattered. So many people never readjust to life outside the cult.
Voldemort “dies” about two years after that, having successfully recruited about 400 followers (“the death eaters outnumbered us the Order 20:1” - Lupin). We can’t say if all these people were genuine Death Eaters or people who had been Imperiused or otherwise coerced, or allies like Narcissa, but that coercion is used to recruit shows that Voldemort did not take his own followers’ ambitions and wishes into account. People who use outright coercion don't suddenly draw the line at manipulation.
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Outcast - Draco Malfoy
Draco Malfoy Masterlist // Harry Potter Masterlist
Draco Malfoy x Weasley Fem!Reader
Summary: Y/N Weasley has always felt like an outcast to her family. They didn’t make her feel that way it’s just how she felt. Then she got sorted into Slytherin. Her family told her they didn’t care but she didn’t feel like it. Her siblings would always talk and when she entered a room they’d go quiet. Then she got close to Draco Malfoy. One night of a fight between her and her family and she finally makes some decisions.
Warnings: Angst, fluff near the end, swearing, mentions of sex, and pregnancy
AN: Also no hate to the Weasley family just had this idea and wanted to write it out! Also doesn’t follow the exact plot of Harry Potter also Sirius and Remus don’t die. Also I can make a part two if you want!
Y/N Weasley never wanted her life to be like this. She never wanted to be casts out of her family.
Even before Hogwarts Y/N felt like an outsider to her own family. The Weasleys reassured Y/N that she was loved by them. But when she got to Hogwarts everything changed.
Y/N couldn’t wait to be in Gryffindor. Everyone one of her brothers were in Gryffindor and reassured Ron and Y/N who were twins they would be in Gryffindor as well.
Y/N and Ron met Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and Y/N wanted to be friends with them.
Y/N was shaking after Ron got off the chair and was placed into Gryffindor and as she sat in the chair it called a house she never would have assumed to be in.
Slytherin.
Y/N’s heard of Slytherin and never imagined she would be in that house. After seeing her brothers disappointed looks she got off the chair and went to go sit at the Slytherin table.
From then on Y/N and her brothers wouldn’t really talk that much throughout the years at Hogwarts. Even from her own twin.
Her parents sent her a letter saying that it was okay and to not worry about it they still loved her.
In her first year she never got the chance to talk to Ron since he was with Harry and Hermione. Also the twins were too busy with pranks and quidditch to talk. Or at least Y/N thought.
She made an unlikely friend though and that was Draco Malfoy.
At first he thought that Y/N wasn’t a Weasly besides the red in her hair. Draco often reframed from making remarks about her family around her so it wouldn’t upset her.
That summer made Y/N feel like crap since the only people to speak to her were Percy and her parents.
Percy and Y/N got close since they were the outcast of the family they got along best.
In her second year Ginny came to Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffindor which made the whole family lucky. But it made Y/N jealous.
But she had her best friends Draco and Pansy.
Throughout the years Y/N and her family strayed while she got closer to Draco who she started to develop feelings for in her third year. Of course her family wouldn’t like it but she couldn’t help her feelings.
That was until Draco asked Y/N to the Yule ball in their fourth year and began dating.
Y/N saw the troubles Ron, Harry, and Hermione got into and it made her jealous to see her brother not want to talk to her. He would make small talk but that’s about it.
Draco would always reassure Y/N saying he was busy helping his friends but Y/N knew he was just trying to comfort her.
Then during her summer alter her fifth year Y/N and her family got into a huge fight.
Her family knew she was involved with Draco and didn’t approve of it. Neither did his parents. But anyways a fight broke out.
Y/N was listening to her family rave about how good Ginny was doing in school. They were at the dinner table and Y/N was poking at her food.
Y/N rolled her eyes when Harry and Hermione came in the house with Ron.
“Great,” Y/N mutters under her breath pulling a strand of her red hair behind her ear.
“So uh Y/N how was your fifth year,” Arthur asked noticing his eldest daughters sour look.
“It was quite a good year father,” Y/N forces a smile on her face.
Everyone’s attention was on Y/N who was poking through the food again.
“How are you and the Malfoy kid going,” Arthur asked bitterness in his voice.
“Fantastic he treats me right,” Y/N looks up at her father with a glare knowing he doesn’t approve of their relationship. She gets that since Dracos dad is dick. But Draco wasn’t his dad.
“Still can’t believe you got with Malfoy,” Ron let’s out laugh. Y/N could feel her anger boil but try’s to refrain herself from snapping at them since Draco hasn’t treated them the best. He told her that he would be nicer to her family.
“Why does everyone want to know about my relationship with Draco,” Y/N snaps squeezing her hand around her fork.
“Well Y/N we just thought you’d get with a Malfoy,” Fred’s voice makes Y/N head snap over to his direction.
“I mean he hates us what if he’s dating you just to get or us,” George gives her a smile and she knows Draco would never hurt her like that.
He was the only who was ever there for her at Hogwarts.
“He wouldn’t do that,” Y/N defended him.
“How do you know,” Ginny asked setting her fork down.
“I just know,” Y/N repeated herself in a harsher tone.
“I mean Y/N it’s not a stretch since he hates us and plus you were pretty desperate for him,” Ron interrupts making her face him with a glare.
Y/N wasn’t desperate for him she loved him as a boyfriend and a friend.
“How could you say that to me,” Y/N whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“What it’s the truth you’re all over him basically. Whenever you’re in proximity of him you basically get on your knees for him,” Ron snapped at his twin who stared at him in shock. She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her twins mouth.
“I hate you,” Y/N whispered her tone full of anger.
“Y/N before you start getting angry just listen to us,” Arthur stood up as his daughter did as well. Hermione and Harry were watching in shock.
“No I’m tired of getting treated like this,” Y/N says her voice full of desperation.
“Treated like what,” The twins ask looking up at their sister with humor crossing their faces.
“Like I’m some sort of traitor,” Y/N whispers.
“Well maybe you are,” Ron snaps. Hermione slaps him on his arm indicating for him to shut up.
“Really is that what everyone thinks,” Y/N asks looking around the room with tears coating her vision.
Everyone sat in silence.
“This is why I’m so fucked up my own family doesn’t want me here,” Y/N snarls walking to her room while Molly yells out not wanting her daughter to leave.
As she grabs her stuff and her wand and walks towards door not knowing where to go.
“Y/N please don’t leave we love you,” Molly grabbed her arm.
“I’m sorry mum,” Y/N apologizes. “I’m sorry for being such a disappointment,” She feels her mom grip her arm and once she gets out of her grip and leaves the house.
The only place she thinks she can go to is Dracos. His mother loved her and loved that his son found someone. His father on the other hand was a different story but he was being sent to Azkaban.
Y/N sighs as she has her owl send Draco a letter explaining what happened and in a minute Draco is on the side of the road along with Y/N.
“Darling what happened,” Draco asked wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. Once he read the first line of her letter which was ‘I need help he Apparited to Y/N.
Y/N sighed blowing some of her red hair out of her face knowing he didn’t read the note. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her head rest in the crook of his neck.
“You didn’t read my letter did you,” Y/N asked in a whisper and Draco let out a laugh.
“You know me so well love,” Draco pushes Y/N out of the hug to look into her eyes.
Y/N explained everything to him as they stood on the dirt road and Draco was mad at how her family treated her. Yes he was an asshole but Y/N had nothing to do with that.
“You don’t deserve them,” Draco whispered bringing his hand to her cheek and then pressing his lips to hers for a quick kiss.
Draco let Y/N stay over for the rest of the summer and tried not to let her get involved with all the death eater crap.
But that doesn’t happen.
His mother explains to her what Dracos got to do and wanted Y/N to be by his side. So Y/N got the mark along with him.
And since she was in a vulnerable state it took a toll on her. Draco reassured Y/N they would be fine and they could run away.
Y/N felt Rons eyes on her all throughout the year and ignored them wanting to make sure everything goes to plan.
Y/N was with Draco when he had to go towards the disappearing cabinet and helped him. He always told her she didn’t have to get involved but she reassured him that she wanted to help him.
Y/N was with him when he had to kill Dumbledore and she didn’t want it to happen but it he didn’t they would get hurt by Voldemor.
Then Snape came and did the deed.
For the next year Y/N had a lot of guilt. When Hermione was tortured by Dracos aunt she cried into his chest feeling so guilty. She could have done something.
But Draco always told her if they did something worse would happen to them. He did have doubts as well.
During that year Y/N and Draco had their first time with sex and it was amazing at the time but it ended with her being pregnant.
It didn’t help during the war she was running through the halls of Hogwarts being at least 3 months pregnant trying to not get hurt.
Y/N had felt so guilty how she left her family and didn’t want them to get hurt. Even though they hated her she didn’t want them to die so when she crossed Fred almost about to get killed by another wizard.
Before she could even think Y/N pulled out he wand and pointed against his neck which made him pause.
“Don’t hurt him,” Y/N warned as the wizard turned around.
Fred got to look at his sister in almost two years. He wouldn’t admit to anyone but George he missed his other sister. Even though they didn’t talk she was his sister and that would never change.
But before he could say anything Y/N yelled “GO.”
Fred scurried off to find the rest of his family worried about his sister.
As she looked at his figure that was running away the wizard took a chance to get his wand out and hit her so hard she fell on the ground with blood streaming down her cheek.
She pressed her hand against her stomach and closed her eyes as she waited for him to kill her.
“Stupefy,” She heard someone yell and she looked up to see Draco standing there as the guy went flying back hitting his head on some bricks. “Love are you ok,” He asks. He knew about the baby and didn’t want her to be here but she came to make sure none of her loved ones died.
“I’m fine,” Y/N answered grabbing Dracos hand and running through the halls to the exit so they could leave.
Luckily for them they teleported to their shared flat they got for a hide out it they couldn’t go to a manor.
“I’ll draw you a bath,” Draco kisses her forehead as he went to the bathroom. The flat wasn’t big since it was supposed to be hide out. There was one bedroom a kitchen and a bathroom.
Y/N stripped and got in the tub while Draco sat on the ground of the other side of the tub and stroked her hair comforting.
“Luckily got you out of there before something happened to you or the baby,” Draco whispers as his hand travelled to her stomach which wasn’t huge since she was about 3 months.
“I know but I’m here everything’s fine,” Y/N grabbed his other hand as his chin rested on the edge of the tub.
“But you got hurt,” Dracos hand travelled to her cheek where a cut laid.
“It’s not that bad of a cut,” Y/N reassured him as she got some soap to wash it out.
As she was Draco was admiring her and then watched as she relaxed in the tub.
“Marry me,” Draco blurted out.
Y/N looked at him in shock.
“W-what,” Y/N stuttered.
“Marry me,” Draco sat up more grabbed her hand playing with her fingers. “You’re already pregnant and we love each other so why not,” He asked.
Y/N thought about it. It seemed like the right move. She was pregnant and Y/N needed someone in her life and wanted to marry him.
“Of course I will,” Y/N softly replied looking into his stormy eyes.
Draco pulled her into a kiss and then let out laughs and giggles after feeling all giddy about what just happened.
Throughout the next two months she was now 5 months pregnant and Y/N’s stomach was humongous and she thought she was pregnant with twins for a second.
But she wasn’t and the doctor reassured her that it was normal.
Y/N for a job at book shop in the wizarding world as Draco got a job as a healer. They still lived in the flat wanting to make money of their own.
But Draco told her that he would be getting a house for them soon. Y/N didn’t believe him but he always surprised her with everything.
As she was walking out of the book shop she ran into someone.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” Y/N apologizes as she picks up her book and the other persons stuff.
When she gave the guy her stuff she was surprised to see Fred’s face staring at her in shock.
“Y-Y/N,” Fred stuttered looking at her belly.
“Oh hey Fred,” Y/N looks at the ground.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Fred whispers his eyes on her stomach still.
“Yeah I just got this job here,” Y/N lets out a little laugh.
“Why don’t you come to dinner over at the burrow I wanted to thank you for what you did,” Fred asked wringing his hands together.
“You don’t have to thank me Fred I���m your sister I’ll always be there for you,” Y/N gives him a little smile as her eyes start to water.
“Oh no don’t cry,” Fred gets worried and wraps his arms around his sisters arms bringing her into a hug.
“Oh don’t worry it’s just the hormones,” Y/N lets out a laugh wiping her eyes of tears.
“You have to come to dinner,” Fred insists.
“I don’t know if they want to see me,” Y/N still feels guilty for what she did to them.
“They won’t I’ll make sure of it,” Fred reassures her.
Y/N lets out a reluctant nod and they part ways Fred told her dinner was at 8 which made Y/N happy since her and Draco had no plans that night.
She told Draco about it he was weary first but let her go knowing that her family wouldn’t physically harm her.
Y/N sighed as she stood outside the burrow and had a nervous look on her face as she knocked on the door.
The door opened to reveal Ron who looked at her in shock.
“Bloody hell Fred wasn’t lying,” Ron muttered under his breath.
Y/N gives him a nervous smile expecting him to be mad but he pulls her into a hug and lets out a happy sigh that his sister actually came.
“I missed you so much and everyone else has too,” Ron muttered pulling her into the house.
“Are you sure,” Y/N asks.
“Positively.”
#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy blurb#draco malfoy headcanon#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy x oc#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter headcanon#harry potter blurb#harry potter oneshot#harry potter x oc#harry potter imagine#harry potter smut#harry potter#harry potter x reader
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Hey! Could you write about how Naruto would deal with a bratty sub. (Black fem reader pls)
ARE YOU MAD AT ME BABY?
✿ warnings: oral (m receiving), teasing, ass slapping, cock fucking? naruto uses his shadow clone jutsu + black fem reader
the news plays in the background while you wash the dishes. you smack your lips, annoyed at how you boyfriend naruto always leaves a mess, then takes off after. just how lazy can he get? you promised yourself that you would be petty to him when he gets home, and you always keep your promises.
you finish up the last of the dishes as you hear the doorbell jingle. you start your plan into action. the most he does anyways is just kiss you hello then goes to take a shower, so you’ll just ignore his kiss. and him.
“hi baby, how are you?” he says giving you a neck kiss. the space between you two is silence. he groans in disappointment. “don’t be like that.. talk to me.” his large rough hand rubs your stomach in an attempt to make you laugh. doesn’t work.
“fine, if you gonna be like then..” you feel his presence disappear but you then feel a stinging sensation on your ass. you turn around quickly to curse out naruto, but he’s not there either. him and his stupid justus. he’s like a 12 year old boy who’s found out he’s a wizard.
you walk out the kitchen to be meet with a manspreading naruto on the couch, staring dead at you.
“are you mad at me baby?” he pats his hand with his hand, signaling you to come sit on it. but then again, you won’t fall into his tricks once more. he tilts his head and locks his blue eyes into yours. looking more serious than before. “come here.” hesitant, you walk towards him, taking a seat next to him, but not on him.
he covers your whole body with his, giving you no room to escape. “what’s the issue. tell me.” he says looking at you.
“you’re the issue.”
he smirks and lifts an eyebrow, shocked at your response. he lifts his hand up to your chin, caressing your lips. “do we have an attitude with today hmm?.. are you really gonna be a brat today?” he gets up from his spot, his crotch facing your face. he rubs himself through his pants, you not being able to turn away from such an erotic act. he breathes heavily then stops what he’s doing.
he leans down to grab one of your hands and places it right on his crotch. you feel his extremely hard and big boner, mere seconds away from bursting through his pants. “see what you do to me? take care of it.”
you slightly aroused but still feeling bratty shake your head no. naruto squints his eyes while poking a hole in his tongue with his cheek. “now you’re just being petty aren’t you? cause’ i know you wouldn’t hesitate to suck me off.” he’s right. you wouldn’t hesitate. but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hesitate to tease him either, and thats exactly what you going to do.
you tug naruto down back onto the couch, while you get on the floor, kneeling straight up to naruto and his boner. “forgive my pettiness baby, i’ll take care of you right away.” you say hiding a slight smirk. oh you were gonna take care of him alright.
you plant kisses on his clothed crotch, unzipping the zipper with your mouth. naruto stares down at you menacingly, believing he actually won. you pull down his dress pants to his feet. his dick slightly pops up, but still restricted from his boxers. you rub the tip of his dick, spreading around his pre-cum on his boxers and your fingers. at the same time, you move your hand up and down around his cock, making him whimper. you do this for about two minutes until naruto starts to get irritated.
“that’s enough.. put it in your mouth already.” you silently obey, pulling his thick veiny dick out his boxers. you also pull them down to the floor, now having more access to blow him off. you give him small kitty licks, feeling his veins all over your tongue. naruto throws his head back and massages the top of his head. now’s the chance.
you circle your tongue around the tip of his dick, tasting his salty pre-cum. you place another hand massaging his trimmed balls. he breathes heavily in response, the grip of his hand getting tighter on your head. “mmgf.. take me all in..” he moans.
you take about 1/4 of his dick in, bobbing your head up and down at that part only. naruto groans in dissatisfaction, smacking him lips together. you ignoring his complaints continue to suck him off. till you suddenly hear a shadow clone justu come out his mouth. you attempt to quickly get off his dick, but a hand from behind pushes you farther down. you immediately gag on his dick, not being able to collect your thoughts.
when was the hand on your head removed? were you so deep into teasing him that you couldn’t notice his hand signals from above? regardless, what was supposed to be you teasing naruto turned into naruto disciplining you. “f-fuck im close..” he breathes out.
no. no. no no no. you weren’t going to let him win, but you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think that use of the scj is the best possible. and it turned you on. you hum while taking him in, naruto’s dick twitching from the action. he shoots a hot, salty thick load into you mouth. you swallowed it immediately. his clones poofs, and you hear his hearty laugh from above.
“are you ok? you were really took back!” he says with his dumb little grin. you roll your eyes and pout, getting up to walk away but he grabs you and situates you on his lap. you look into his eyes and say, “clean up after yourself.” he laughs in your face.
“really? that’s what you’re ignoring me for?” he looks at you confused. you nod your head yes. “oh great! i thought you were gonna talk about me breaking your grandma’s plate.” he grins. your eyebrow furrow.
“my what?”
naruto quickly puts his pants back on and shoves you off his lap, running away from you.
“narutooo!”
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Downtown Train | [H.P.]
[Navigation] [Masterlist]
Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader
Requested?:
Summary: You and Harry cross paths again years after you were expelled from Hogwarts.
Words: 2.6k
Song: Downtown Train by Everything but the Girl (loosely based)
Category : kinda angst and fluff
Warnings: angst, light cursing
Disclaimers: GIF NOT MINE! I do not own any of the characters in this story.
A/N: ok i got kinda lazy at the last part in sorry skdjeow hope you guys like it tho :)) i took a bit of inspiration from the scene where Ted and Tracy finally meet in HIMYM. this is my second fic omfg thank you to those who liked the first one!!!
It has been around a decade since you’ve set foot in London, and although a lot has changed over time, you could still see the little things that remained ever the same. You watched the city pass by before your eyes as the cab you were in sped through highways. No use dwelling in the past now, you’ve been through so much already, why let it bother you?
You could’ve taken the train to the terminal, for it would’ve made much more sense but... You wanted to see something for yourself first. After a forty-minute drive, you finally arrived at King’s Cross.
Making your way to the platform, you raised your wrist to check the time, and it was more than enough to piss you off. Missed it by eight minutes.
You knew it wasn’t worth fretting over, but the fact that everything is always within reach but then gone once you try and seize it was deeply frustrating. The terminal felt deserted even though there were still people bustling about. You hated that there were no seats and you had to just stand there, leaning on your trolley suitcase’s handle as you waited for the next train. Your shoulder slumped in disappointment.
Wait—
Right.
You almost forgot your suitcase as you hurriedly trudged toward the 9th platform, looking for any sign of...anything. You looked at the barrier you only walked through four times. You’d only been in (What was it called? Hoggerts?) that one particular Wizarding School for two years, but you got expelled for becoming an unregistered animagus. “Oh, right, Hogwarts.” You muttered under your breath, a lump in your throat already forming.
A mirthless laugh escaped your lips, and you were quite certain the passersby thought you were a mad woman. You were twenty-three already, but the memory of when you were eleven kept slapping you in the face. You think about how you made an Animagus Potion and how long and difficult it took to make. It was hard to keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth, having to not take it out until ready. But when you had succeeded and mixed it with the untouched dew, you turned into an owl. This was a year before you received a letter to Hogwarts, when your only intention was to visit the unnamed boy with pretty green eyes who lived with the Dursley family. You think about how your stepmother left for a week and put a nanny named Bertha Jorkins in charge, how an owl swept downstairs with a red envelope and an unfamiliar voice erupted, how you pretended to sleep in fear of your life, how Bertha left a thick book which you found out were spells.
It took about a year for you to succeed in making that potion. You almost passed out at the sight of the moving illustration of what was called a mandrake. You kept thinking about what lead to where you were now, you kept racking your brain thinking about what could’ve been. Maybe you’d be working in some magical job instead of a bland Muggle office career. You kept thinking about the shabby ‘witch’ shop you stumbled upon from which you purchased mandrake leaves and untouched dew, both sealed tight in jars, the dew packed with extra wrapping, as it was not allowed to see the sun.
No, you had to stop thinking about it. But then again, the memory of when you found out the Dursleys let the green-eyed boy sleep upstairs and visited him as an owl twisted your guts.
It was around early July and you sat just outside his window. He immediately raised his blinds and slid the window open. His eyes darted your leg. “No letter?” He muttered, but you heard it well. Were you...supposed to bring a letter or something?
You cocked your head to the side. You still didn’t know his name, and for the past years that you fawned over him, you resorted to calling him Specks. “Did Hagrid send you?”
Hag-what now?
“Ron? Hermione?” His eyes had this twinkle of hope, as if waiting. For what, you did not know. Then Specks faltered, his shoulders slumping. “Guess not. Haven’t been receiving any letters from them.”
He didn’t seem to know what to do, either. “Do you need water? I have one in Hedwig’s cage.” He gestured to the cage tucked into the corner of his room. I’m not drinking from that, you thought. “Are you lost?”
The first meeting was awkward, but as you noticed an assortment of owls flying to the window, you caught on and went down to make waffles. The last time you visited him, he was eating plain tuna. That’s got to be rough, you thought as you started to make waffles on your own. As soon as the package was tied, you flew out and pecked on his window, which he immediately opened.
He untied the package on your legs, reading what was written. “From... owl?” He looked at you hesitantly as he unwrapped it. And then he did that thing— he smiled. And you were sure you’d have thrown your hands over him if it weren’t for your tacky wings. You often visited him, he even started to call you Owl. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You brought him cookies, waffles, and stuff like that. Until one day, you noticed Mr. Dursley barricading his windows.
You thought that would be the last you ever saw him, when at some point you vividly recall a flying car stopping by his window, and as much as weird that scenario looked like, you couldn’t help but laugh at the faces of the Dursleys as the car drove away into the night.
You laugh as you recall the letters you wrote you never would’ve sent to him, crying because you thought he was gone forever. Then you received a letter yourself, from Hogwarts.
It was all complicated from there, you found out your mother left you an amount of fortune by Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts while your father left you Muggle money, which you had converted to fund for your studies at Hogwa—
A rumble of lightning shook you back to reality. This is the now, you must focus on the now. Not the past. So you lifted your chin, finally turning away from platform nine and three-quarters, not daring to step into it. You get into a cab, asking the driver to take you to the other terminal, which took maybe half an hour to get to. You didn’t know where you were, but around the area was a deserted train station. There were only two other people seated on the bench, you couldn’t see them well, but from their backs you could tell one was a sleeping elderly woman, and the other one a man in a tuxedo.
As you stepped out, you walked to the back of the car to open the trunk. The driver opened his window. “‘Vat are you doing?”
“I’m getting my luggage,” your voice almost drowning from the pouring rain. “Luggage!” You repeated.
“You ‘zo not have luggage!” The driver responded. What does he mean I don’t? Then you opened the trunk, and realized you forgot it at the train. “Fucking hell...”
“Sorry, Mister! You may go now, thank you for the ride.” He honked in response, and drove away. Well, at least you had your handbag and umbrella with you.
You stepped into the platform, tired from walking endlessly. You wish you never even returned here. The umbrella’s stick rested on your collarbone, and you could feel the cold of it numbing you. You turn to the two other people seated on the bench. The old woman was still sleeping, and the man was hunched, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together, deep in thought. When he looked up from his seat, you instantly recognized him. How could you not? He had grown since the last time you saw him, when he was only thirteen years old. He was rugged and tired, but there was no mistaking it. The undone necktie resting around his neck looked out of character for him, but it was just as well.
You think about your second year at Hogwarts, when you were caught turning into an animagus. The professors were impressed, but not in a nice way. They started to assume you might’ve been the Heir of Slytherin. To quote Snape, “Y/L/N, a young Half-Blood such as yourself couldn’t have made a complex potion.” There was a clear hint of a sneer in his voice, as if he wanted you to know you shouldn’t be there at all. He even suggested the possibility of sending you to Azkaban, but the potion just got confiscated and you received detention.
The following week, you started to avoid Harry. Of course, he knew. You were the one who dropped off little snacks. Every animagus had a unique pattern, and the spiral-looking pattern on your left wing sold you out. You never talked to him again, never been this embarrassed in your life.
But then you used the Cruciatus Curse, and the teachers were livid. The truth was that you only suspected a fellow student as the Heir of Slytherin, out to get Potter.
“On a student, Miss Y/L/N!”
The parents of the student sent complaints, having even suggested to send you to Azkaban. Some of the rumors even said that you were the next Dark Lord, to which you just laughed off. So you packed your bags, about to leave Hogwarts.
“Y/N,” Harry called out. “I’m—”
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine, really. I wouldn’t be able to fund my tuition next year anyway.” You jokingly said. He didn’t seem happy about it. “Be careful, Harry.”
That was the last time you saw each other. And seeing him here, in that tuxedo, with that damp hair... Was he coming from a wedding? His wedding? You shouldn’t be curious, and so you swallow the lump in your throat and looked straight ahead.
A minute or so later, someone tapped your shoulder. “Excuse me,” the person started. “You seemed cold.”
He was holding out the jacket of his tuxedo. Don’t look at him, don’t look at him.
You kept your eyes trained to the ground as you politely turn his offer down. “It’s fine,” you say in the tone you always do. “Really.”
He seemed to recognize you now, so you look up to him. He grew a couple inches, and his jaw had hint of a growing beard, and it looks like he just shaved recently. “Fancy seeing you here,” he starts.
“Just on a business trip, I’m not really gonna stay. But nice to see you too.”
“What, you don’t live here anymore?”
“Well, yeah. I had to take school late. You know, can’t really apply for a job and say I come from some magic school, right?” The two of you chuckle. “Congratulations, I guess”— you gesture to his tux — “or not, if you chickened out.”
“Oh, I’m not the groom. It’s Ron and Hermione.”
“They got married?”
“That’s right,” he bellowed. “I guess some of our friends owe us a fortune, huh?”
The two of you just caught up with each other there, and you found yourself wishing it wouldn’t end. You don’t know when it happened, but his jacket was draped on your shoulders already. You both eventually end up away from the platform and to a deserted park, taking a seat at the swings. They were still damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter one bit. At one point, silence engulfed the space between you two, but it was strangely comforting. Like the knowledge that the other one was there was all it took to right everything that was wrong in the world.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “Did you make the waffles yourself?”
“Yeah, how were they?”
“Brilliant, thank you.”
The silence again. But this time, it might have been the loudest and deafening sound you’ve ever heard. There were words you both wanted to get off your chest, but it felt like they had expired already. Words that should’ve been said a long time ago would be nothing right now. Maybe it would be something, but what good would that do at all?
So much has happened, so much time apart, you weren’t even sure if he was the same person he was. You had so much to say, but the words weren’t there with you right now. Maybe you’ll tell him when the time is better, but that isn’t the case now.
“It’s getting late. Where are you currently staying?”
And so you two ventured in the dead of night, with him telling you stories about Ron and Hermione, how the wedding went, and how everyone is. You, on the other hand, told him about how you just graduated a few years ago and are here to look for potential clients and how you plan on quitting and starting a different career you really like, maybe start a bakery.
“Well, this is me.” You give him the same smile you gave the last time you saw each other, only that this time, you hoped this wouldn’t the end. “Thanks for walking me that far.”
You hand him a small amount of money, and you start to walk into the hotel, not knowing how to feel.
“Is that it?” His voice broke. You stopped in your tracks and pulled out your wallet from your handbag. “Sorry, how much more?”
“You’ve technically risked everything for me way before you had any clue what you were doing and all you do now is hand me cash for a cab?”
“What do you think should I do, then?”
You could see him carefully analyzing your question, gulping, fidgeting, and more. Although now was not a good time, you felt proud that you still knew him at least a bit, and that he was enough assurance that he’s still the Harry you brought waffles and cookies when you were younger.
“I don’t know, but just not this.” You could hear his throat getting hoarse. “I can’t just let you go now. I didn’t know where you were, how you were doing, I kept waiting for the owl with the spiral pattern on its left wing and it never came and then I saw you again on that downtown train, all beautiful and... I don’t even know what I should do.”
You take a few steps down the stairs, walking toward him and finally reaching your hand out to cup his cheek, smiling. Then you took his jacket off your shoulders and held it out to him. “I think it’s rather flattering you think I’m beautiful.”
“Well, you are.” He hated that every word you said felt like it was the last you’d ever say to each other. He hated that this really might be the last time you crossed paths. He hated that you weren’t staying. Both of you were waiting for something, you just didn’t know what. A kiss didn’t feel right. At least, not yet.
And so it made his chest lighter when you put on his jacket again and hopped down the stairs and to the sidewalk. “Whe—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” You said, just like you did last time. Only that now it was with better reason. He did as he was told, and the two of you kept walking to no particular destination, ever thankful for the distant downtown train.
#harry potter x reader#harry x reader#harry potter x reader angst#oneshot#oneshots#fic#fanfiction#angst#angst fic#harry potter#hogwarts#ron weasley#hermione granger#ves.writes#ves.writes harry potter
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