#his quills are... such a headache
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im not sure how this is going so far but i certainly hope i can make this work out hoo boy
#soda offers you a can#his quills are... such a headache#not to mention trying to keep things stylized and all#the ears in particular. goddamn
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"James has ADHD!"
WRONG
James Potter is so patient and so focused and so understanding.
James Potter has OCD.
James Potter focuses so much on the little details of absolutely everything. People being no exception. He gets people gifts correlated to an interest or desire someone has brought to his attention once or twice in passing. He notices habits and actions and fears of others and makes sure to adjust his responses or the way he comforts them to better fit their needs. James Potter has chronic skin picking disorder. James potter gets so frustrated that he cries. James Potter cares way too much about not caring. So much so that he spends all night awake, worrying about whether he seemed cool enough or kind enough or himself enough for others. James Potter doesn't talk about his issues, and when he does it's matter-of-a-factly. James Potter is so acutely self-aware that he would interrupt his own therapist to explain what was wrong with him. He knew the answers to his problems, but he liked the conversation of it all. James Potter has food aversions. He's a calorie whore. Makes sure he isn't over or under the allowed amount every day, both in fear and in habitual routine. James Potter has spent months perfecting each aspect of his every move during quidditch. When he was 11, James Potter spent an entire year working his hands to the bone to make absolute sure he was good enough to be recruited. He only smiles when people tell him he's got it easy. That he's a natural talent, only narrowly fighting back the urge to hold up the callouses engrained in his skin and tell them "Look. Look what i did. Look what it gave me." James Potter is a great cook, but he doesn't do it all too often anymore after he got that nasty scar on his thumb, because he wondered all too really what it would be like to press his palm onto a lit burner. James Potter, when alone, sometimes finds himself trying to make sense of it all. The whole universe. He surrounds himself so often with people because he just plain hates being alone with his thoughts.
James Potter gets caught in the little moments. James Potter has wondered all too many times what it would be like to just knock a lit candle over or stab a quill into his hand. To just let go of his broom while flying. James Potter avoids ledges and no one could quite tell you why. And no one knows that he has it. He'd never tell. It's a shameful secret between him and his psychiatrist. He knew years before he was formally diagnosed. He did, like with everything, months of extensive and detailed research on the subject. Despite it all, an orange bottle of little white pills remains dormat in his cabinet. Unopened, untouched. He isnt sick. The doctors said hes sick he isnt sick. James Potter gives himself headaches over little things and shames himself when hed comes to the realization that no one else seems to pay mind to them. James Potter was so stressed about his own yet-to-be-planned surprise party that he threw up once. He was eleven. James Potter has had the same haircut since he was twelve. The same glasses since 13. James Potter has OCD.
I offer you this very good and very real headcanon
#marauders#james potter#peter pettigrew#remus lupin#sirius black#regulus black#james fleamont potter#marauders era#jegulus
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"one step closer"
written for day 7 of january for @jegulus-microfic with the prompt "headache" totaling 317 words
“Hey James?” Sirius walked into their dorm bedroom after visiting with Regulus. The two brothers tried to get with each other and do something, whether it be sit next to each in silence and do their own individual things, or go outside and play quidditch.
James set down his quill, “yeah mate?" He asks.
“So, Regulus asked me a funny question.” Sirius came and sat down next to James and looked at him inquisitively. “He asked me why you weren't in class today? Which, I admit, seems like a pretty normal thing to ask. But” He adds emphasis on the ‘but’ and leans forward in his chair. “He rarely asks me about my friends, and when he does, he makes insolent jokes, he doesn't check up on you? So.” He leans back, clasps his hands, and places them on his lap as if expecting an answer.
The reason why James was not in class today was because he had a headache and he simply did not feel like going. Besides, what was one day of missed class? James knew he would be missing out on seeing Regulus that period, but his pounding headache was all he could think about.
“I’m not quite sure what you want me to say, Pads?”
Sirius shrugs, “I’m not either, but I just found it a little odd he cared; but my brother is a mysterious person, so I shouldn't have expected anything else.” He laughs and grabs his own school books out of his bag and begins to work on some assignments due.
James, on the other hand, was not sure he could go back to working on his assignments. His thoughts of Regulus caring about him, Regulus asking Sirius about him, had James lost in thought. This little development meant so many doors opened for James, and damn him if he wasn't going to use at least one of them.
classes start up again tomorrow rip sleep
-a.s.
#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#james x regulus#regulus x james#james loves regulus#james fleamont potter#regulus arcturus black#the marauders#maraduers#jegulus fic#jegulus microfic#addisonstars#addisonstars mircofic tag#addisonstars jegulus microfic tag:#im having so much writing these little fics#so much fun
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hold me in your comfort
Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary: Your studies have been taking a toll on you, luckily your boyfriend comes to the rescue.
Requested by anon
A/N: A sweet little thing for my favorite sweet boy. Hope you like it. P.S. I hate coming up with summaries, I promise the story is better. <3
Masterlist
For once, Gryffindor's common room was quiet. During the day the place was mostly buzzing with chatter and spells being thrown around, however now, a good few hours past curfew, the only sounds were the crackling of the fireplace and the distinct howling wind outside.
The red and golden colors around you provided a sense of comfort, familiarity; as you sat on the spacious floor of the room, your back resting against the couch, and quill scraping against the paper, you tried to focus on those feelings. Your O.W.Ls were fast approaching, and earlier this year you had received a letter from home kindly reminding you of the consequences that awaited you if the results were less than pleasing.
Being an only daughter made your parents demand excellence in everything you did, especially regarding your studies. For nearly two weeks now, you'd spent most of your time with your head buried in a book and writing down assignment after assignment; constant headaches became your new normal and your wrist was usually sore by the end of each day. You were nearing your limit, or maybe you had even already reached it.
The comfortable silence of the lonely room was suddenly disrupted by the padding of socks hitting the wood of the stairs. You glanced up and behind you to see who had gotten up at this hour of the night only to see your boyfriend walking into the common room. Fred moved sluggishly, mind clearly still hazy and drowsy with sleep; he rubbed his eyes while stifling a yawn, his hair was all over the place too, and he wore a dark red sweater with the letter 'F' in its center.
The small smile that came to your lips was inevitable. Your heart fluttered inside your chest just by the sight of him.
With a soft scrunch on his eyebrows, Fred willed his eyes to focus on the dim light of the room, his gaze instantly landing on you; "I figured I'd find you here," he hummed.
You chuckled softly, your eyes shying away from his gaze, "you caught me."
Fred plopped down on the floor next to you, the handsome outlines of his features being highlighted in a golden hue from the fireplace in front of you. He shuffled closer until his lips clumsily touched your cheek in a gentle kiss. "It's a bit too late for all that, isn't it love?" Fred motioned to the mess of books and papers in front of you.
You grimaced, subconsciously leaning towards him; "I'll be done in just a moment, promise."
"You said that before we all headed to bed," Fred reasoned, you could hear the masked concern in his words, "that was hours ago."
With the most gentle touch only you had the privilege of knowing, Fred pushed back strands of your hair so he had a clear view of your face. He didn't say anything, but you knew he was accessing the darker circles under your eyes, the slight cracking of your lips, the glazing of your eyes. He made you feel faint with the way he looked at you with such palpable love. You could feel it even without meeting his gaze. Fred's thumb brushed against your cheek and you nearly broke down then and there. Nearly.
But oh you were so tired, part of you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and just forget about the rest of the world.
A beat passed in silence and then Fred managed to sneak behind you, fitting himself between you and the couch, his long legs stretching on either side of you while both his arms encircled your waist.
A soft smile came to your lips against your own volition. Fred had always been a physically affectionate person; whether it was hugs or his pinkie hooked with yours, he'd be touching you whenever he could. His presence instantly lifted a bit of the weight on your shoulders, the letters written on the paper in your hands seemed shuffled all of a sudden and you couldn't bring yourself to read them anymore. But you didn't mind, you simply allowed yourself to melt against him.
Squeezing your body to him, Fred nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, planting a feather-light kiss on the skin there. It was okay if you didn't feel like talking, he'd be content to hold you for the rest of the night if you so needed.
Reveling in his presence, all warm and sweet, you leaned back so your head rested on his shoulder. You rewarded his affection with one of your own, your lips finding his temple and planting a lingering kiss there.
Quill and paper fell from your grasp, your fingers coming up to brush against the skin of Fred's hands.
Fred hummed, you could feel his small smile on your skin. "Take a break, love?"
"Yeah," you held your breath, chest tight, and cleared your throat in order for your voice not to come out as tender as you felt. As he made you feel. "I suppose that's a good idea."
Fred's answer was to squeeze you even tighter, burying himself into you and making you giggle. You had missed him, now that you come to think of it; you've been focusing so much on your studies that your time with him had been cut by half. For nearly two weeks, there were no more hang outs in the courtyards, no more sneaking around between classes, no more dates to hogsmeade, no more pranking the teachers together; you still spent time together of course, but those precious moments had disappeared, and now it felt like a stab in the heart.
As if your souls couldn't be more intertwined, Fred mumbled; "I've missed you, you know." His face still hidden between your neck and shoulder.
You bit your lip before answering, turning around slightly in his arms so you could face him more properly. "I've missed you too, I'm sorry Freddie, for being so distant lately. I never meant for that to happen," you tried to gulp back any rogue tears that tried to escape.
Fred raised his head so he could look into your eyes. The room was dimly lit, with mostly the fireplace as a source of light; his own eyes seemed to be shining brighter now. "It's alright love," his hand found your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing away a single tear you didn't realize had fallen, "I know this is important to you, I just think you should take a break, that's all." Fred finished with a sweet smile you could never get enough of.
The love you felt for him escaped you as you leaned forward and pecked his lips with your own. You held Fred's face with both your hands, squishing his cheeks as you placed several more kisses on his lips until his smile became too big for you to continue.
"May I stay with you tonight?" You whispered, pulling back just far enough to utter the words, your lips still grazing his.
"I would love nothing more," Fred said, and you kissed the words yet again.
The taste of your own tears mingled between your lips, you kept your eyes closed then, feeling the thundering of your own heart against your ribs.
The steady rhythm of Fred's breathing and the distant crackling of the fire was suddenly all you could hear. His gentle fingertips traced your cheek and jawline, and suddenly his touch was all you could feel too.
"Do you wanna know something?"
The entrancing tone of Fred's voice cut into the calmness. You simply nodded, bunching up his sweater between your hands. You could feel one of his hands holding your back, tracing your spine and keeping your body close to him.
"You are the most brilliant witch I know," he promised, and then chuckled; "just don't let Hermione hear that."
A smile threatened to show on your lips, your nose bumped his.
Fred's lips traced a path from your jawline, to your cheek, and to your forehead; leaving confessions with each kiss. An I love you here, a you got this there.
With both of you as a mess of tangled limbs on the floor of Gryffindor's common room, you too promised you loved him a thousand times over. You also promised a long overdue date to hogsmeade.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Fred’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us
#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley#harry potter#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x fem!reader#fredweasleyedit#imagine#fanfic#fluff#angst#fred weasley fanfiction#james phelps#my story
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Pride & Prejudice: A TWSTed AU
The Merchant from the Depths: A. Ashengrotto
Introduction, or pick another route!
Azul x GN Reader (they/them)
Warnings: Azul is (lovingly) a sus dumbass and businessman, P&P level angst and insults, I got carried away and this is 6k words im so sorry
—
Azul was staring at you again.
Surprisingly, at this point you were sort of used to it. If anything, you stared back at him, dead in the eye, until he broke eye contact, adjusting his glasses or ruffling his hair. Still, it unnerved you a bit more than you’d care to admit.
Ever since his overblot, you noticed that he’d make his presence known around you. Whether it was Azul himself, or Jade or Floyd lurking around your general vicinity and eventually herding you near Mostro Lounge, it was starting to get a little concerning. Especially because of that strange look in his eye when he thought you weren’t looking.
Still, you got some weird signals from Azul, because sometimes he’d chat with you (and not-so-subtly get you to sign a deal with him). Other times, he’d hardly meet your eyes at all.
So now, you decided to ruffle him. It wasn’t like you could go toe-to-toe (tentacle-to-tentacle?) with Azul without causing a massive headache, and staring back at him was hardly the worst thing one could do at NRC. So, you initiated a staring contest with him. You won every time, and he always slunk back with pink dusting his cheeks. The bitter shame of defeat, you thought proudly. Nevermind that it was cute seeing a different side to him, your stomach doing flips.
Meanwhile, still slumped in his seat, Azul attempted to cool his face off. Sevens, you always seemed to surprise him. Humans were so odd - just when he thought he had you all figured out, you always did something that threw him off guard. It appears you weren’t the quiet Prefect all of the time. As class ended and he walked back to Octavinelle, his mind drifted.
The past few weeks following his overblot were strange, indeed. Three days earlier, he sat across from you in his office, smug that he’d finally get Ramshackle. Then a few days later, he was returning the very photo he’d contracted you to steal, and rethinking everything he thought about you. The landfolk always talk about sirens in the sea, he thought irritably as he rubbed his temple, staring down a blank contract. But if the landfolk had their version of sirens, you’d be it.
He tapped the fishbone quill against his desk, gritting his teeth. He didn’t know how much time had passed until Jade entered his office, followed by Floyd who leaned against the doorframe. “Azul, we have this week’s profits-“ Jade stopped when he saw him, “oh? Are you alright? Have you been overworking?”
Azul sighed, flopping back in the armchair. Jade hummed, “perhaps it has to do with a meddling someone?” Azul’s face flushed, and Jade had his answer.
“Fufu, this is interesting,” Jade grinned and watched as Azul composed himself, pushing his glasses up. “We have reasonable proof that the Prefect also shares feelings for you, Azul.” The dorm leader stopped and looked at him.
“…Really?” He asked, resting a hand beneath his elbow and propping his head up. “What proof?
“Who else but the only other soul in the school who dorms with them?” A grin spread slowly across Azul’s face, and he hummed to himself, pleased, “I suppose I should… affirm this for myself. Thank you, Jade.” His glasses glinted ominously in the light as the twins matched his grin. “You should turn in for the night, I’ll be here.” He snapped his fingers and a blank piece of golden parchment unfurled itself midair. “I should make preparations.”
———
Grim had never been this hungry nor intimidated in his life. And never at the same time.
It all started when he went to the cafeteria to get something for lunch, and he was stopped by Azul’s two lackeys. Then, he was whisked into Mostro Lounge with the promises of all the tuna he could want, with desserts!, if only he’d have a little chat with the Housewarden. Despite his grumbling stomach, he was still coherent enough to know bad idea, big no-no. Prefect will yell at you.
Then he saw the buffet of tuna on the table and all reason left him.
He lunged at the table, already drooling, when Floyd caught him around his midsection, “Ah ah ah, sealie,” he grinned ominously, “you gotta talk to the boss!”
At that moment, Azul strode into the room, blue dorm uniform jacket billowing behind him. “Ah, Grim, so good of you to join us.” He seated himself next to the head of the table, where Floyd plopped Grim down. Grim watched dazedly as Floyd and Jade moved to stand behind his chair, while Azul was already pulling out a lengthy contract followed by a little inkpot.
“I understand that you and the Prefect are close? Perhaps, you’d be willing to tell me a bit more… about them,” Azul smirked, watching the fear and hunger swirl in Grim’s eyes. The little cat monster leaned away from him, and Azul loomed closer. “I ain’t telling you anythin’!” He’s still loyal, griped Azul internally. But Azul wasn’t the infamous business-mer of Octavinelle for nothing.
“Of course, of course!��� He waved a hand, adjusting his glasses with the other, “I would never want to pry! After all,” he smirked dangerously at Grim, who felt a shiver run down his back, “I am a changed man! And I have the Prefect to thank for it.”
As if on cue, Jade and Floyd leaned down closer to Grim, and he could feel their breaths on his fur. Azul continued, watching Grim’s composure crack with satisfaction, now we’re getting somewhere. “I simply want to thank the Prefect with an… alliance,” he took a saucer and spooned out some expensive tuna, piling it on a cracker, “one that would, of course benefit them. Benefit you.”
Grim opened his mouth to protest, but Azul stuffed the cracker into his mouth. He grinned at the twins, “today is simply the first day of negotiations. If you tell me what I want to know, then this sumptuous feast-“ he brandished a gloved hand to the table laden with food “-is yours. But this is the first of many to come.”
He leaned closer to Grim, satisfied that the hunger in the cat monster’s eyes was growing after whetting his appetite with the tuna cracker. “If your information proves useful, and the Prefect and I form a relationship, I will provide you with high quality foods and comfort.”
To drive the point, Azul topped a cracker with tuna, “including all the tuna,” he added a spoonful of caviar, “you could ever,” he squeezed a lemon over it, “want.”
Grim’s eyes were sparkling, and he opened his mouth as Azul brought the cracker closer to him. Suddenly Azul stuffed the cracker into his own mouth, and Grim’s face fell. Azul’s smirk grew, and he leaned back nonchalantly chewing on the caviar, pleased at the lemon’s tang, “but of course, this depends on how well you help me. You’ll be able to eat after our little chat, don’t worry. I’ll be contacting you for information later today.”
Azul could see the exact millisecond that Grim relented. Eyes sparkling, Grim yelled “HECK YEAH!” And stuffed a paw into the inkpot before Azul could react. Grim slammed his paw where the signature line was, ink splattering on the tablecloth, but Azul didn’t care. Yes, you’ve played right into my grasp, he grinned and snapped his fingers. As the twins backed off and Grim catapulted himself into the middle of the table, Azul chuckled to himself as he ambled back to his office, the Prefect is as good as mine.
———
That’s odd, you thought as you glanced at the clock, Grim should be here by now.
He didn’t come to lunch today, and you hadn’t seen him in a while. It wasn’t usually like Grim to skip a meal, and now it was late evening, and you still didn’t know where he was.
You sighed. You had no energy to deal with this. It was slowly getting later and later, and it was already dark out when you heard the front door open and saw Grim trudging in, looking exhausted.
“Grim!” You scooped him up and hugged him, “where were you?! I was so worried! Don’t do that again!” You blubbered, “are you hungry?” “Nope!” Grim said quickly, which made you a little suspicious. Grim? Not hungry? Sure, when the Scalding Sands freezes over.
“Did you eat?” Grim tensed in your grip, “yeah! Just- stop askin’ questions henchhuman! You worry too much.” He got out of your arms and padded off. “Grim, where did you go?” Grim stopped, eyes wide. “Don’t worry about it!” He raced up to your room, while you frowned behind him. You were definitely worrying about it.
———
Earlier that day, Grim went to his classes after lunch, completely content after his meal at Mostro Lounge and forgetting about his deal. After clubs, he began making his way back to Ramshackle when two shadows loomed behind him. Squeaking, he turned back and lo and behold, Jade and Floyd were grinning at him.
“Eh~ Has sealie-o forgot his little promise?” Floyd cackled, grabbing Grim, “don’t worry, we didn’t!~” It was at that moment Grim knew; he fucked up. This was a mistake. A trap. A grim Grim error. The twins strode into the hall of mirrors, heading straight for Azul’s office. Floyd plopped Grim down on the seat across from Azul, who rested his chin on his intertwined hands. Grim shivered as Azul’s glasses glinted ominously in the light. Azul tapped his quill twice against the desk, smirking assuredly.
“Now, let us begin~”
———
“Grim, what’s this all about?
You were almost running behind your cat monster, who seemed a little too skittish to be without blame. Ever since he came home late that day, he’d been oddly quiet. It all started when you got a letter addressed to you.
My dearest Prefect,
I hope this message finds you well. In light of what transpired before winter break, I’ve realized that I never properly thanked you for helping me.
As such, it would be my honor to host you at Mostro Lounge this evening. I cordially invite you to dinner tonight, please arrive punctually. I look forward to seeing you soon.
Yours,
Azul Ashengrotto
When you tried to find Jade and Floyd (Sevens only knew how long you looked for Azul himself before you gave up), they merely smiled ominously at you and remained just out of reach. As the evening approached, you were left only with confusion and a very skittish Grim. For the past week, he’d come back to Ramshackle later and later, but curiously he wasn’t hungry at all. This was odd - your little cat monster was always down for tuna. Except now.
When you mentioned the dinner to him, he laughed nervously and curiously didn’t ask to tag along. “Why? Its a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Its free. Don’t you want food?” Grim gulped, rubbing the top of his head strangely. “A-and see those two weirdos an’ Azul again? No way!” Still, you noticed his ears pinning back on his head. He’s scared.
“What did they do?” Your eyes narrowed and Grim flinched. “Nothin! You should go to your date!” “Grim, its not a date…” you turned to the letter thoughtfully, “or is it?” “For the love of- YES ITS A DATE! I’m not gonna let that contract go to nothin’!” Grim screeched, the flames on his ears flaring up. Wait… why was it purple and growing out of his head?
“Grim what did you do?!” You watched in horror as an anemone grew out of Grim’s head yet again. “You signed a contract with him?! Why the hell did you do that?!” Grim’s face fell into shock. “Uh oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell ya that…”
With that, the cat monster raced out of the room and made a beeline straight for the Octavinelle mirror. “Grim!” You ran after him, tripping as you fell into the mirror. You thudded on the floor, panting, until two pairs of nice dress shoes came into sight. “Hello, Prefect,” Jade greeted with a hand on his chest. Floyd picked you up by the shoulders and dusted you off. “Welcome to Mostro Lounge~”
The Lounge is… different, you realized. For starters, there was no one there - usually around this time, there’d be customers. Did the Lounge close early tonight? The ambience also was… new. Sure, it was always a little dark since it was underwater-ish, but now there were candle-lit tables flickering, highlighting a central table with two chairs. Somehow it felt very… intimate.
Surely this was some kind of weird prank? “...whats going on?” you looked at the twins, who started chuckling. You suddenly got your bearings back, voice rising in pitch, “Where is Grim?!”
“Ah, Prefect, you’ve arrived.”
You looked up, eyes widening. Azul strode into the Lounge, pearlescent and practically gleaming. His hair was slicked back, and he was dressed smartly in a light greyish-blue suit. He looked opulent, with a layered pearl necklace around his neck reminiscent of his outfit from the festival at Noble Bell. Instead of his usual rectangle glasses, he wore his round-lens frames. In his left breast pocket was a dark blue rose, which he carefully took and held out to you. “Its wonderful of you to join us. Shall we begin?”
What in the cinnamon toast fuck was going on?
—--
Last night, Azul came up with 862 date plans to ensure you had fun. And you will have fun!
He managed to get his money’s (and tuna buffet’s) worth after making (convincing) Grim to sign that contract with him. When Floyd dropped Grim into the seat across from him, Azul grilled him on your interests.
All night, he pored over his notes, going over every detail that Grim said. His main questions were answered, like Is the Prefect looking for a partner?, What does the Prefect want in a partner?, What is the Prefect attracted to?, and so on. In the end, he left his last question unanswered - partially because Grim looked far too frazzled to answer, and because Azul was too scared to ask.
His final question: Does the Prefect love me back? remained unanswered at the bottom of the page. Thankfully, he thought as he pulled your chair out and had you sit down, I don’t need to answer it. You will love me by the end of the night!
As Azul sat down across from you, you gulped. You severely underestimated what this dinner would be. But with Azul dressed to the nines, the twins snickering over your shoulders, and Grim being skittish all day, this could only mean one thing: you were going to have a literal romantic candle-lit dinner with the same dude who nearly made you homeless and made Grim an anemone.
It sickened you. It was overwhelming. So much that you could hardly get any words out as Jade wafted to the table carrying platters of your favorite foods, while Azul laced his fingers together and observed you so gently. It wasn’t like you could get any words in, because Azul began talking at you, Jade started grinning, and you were just reeling. You could hear Floyd humming along with the sizzle of frying oil, and became hyperfocused on random things: Jade’s golden eye. The candle flame flickering. The smell of food. And Azul’s analytical eyes watching you as he spoke.
As Azul began a long tirade about ‘how lovely it was to finally sit down and speak with you Prefect! I do appreciate your time, as you can see we’ve prepared the Lounge to your taste! We hope the food is to your liking and-‘ you cut him off.
“Azul, where is Grim?” You said flatly, putting down your knife and fork. You weren’t even eating anyway, you’d just shoved the food around the plate. By now you were tired of asking questions and wanted answers, dammit. Azul’s eyes widened, and he leaned on his elbow. “Grim is fine! In fact, he was kind enough to tell me all about you.”
You tensed. This wasn’t good. You weren’t necessarily hiding anything, but it wasn’t like you wanted Azul to know things he shouldn’t. “…like what?” You asked, taking up your drink and sipping it slowly. If Azul was going to be coy, you would too. You wouldn’t lose your composure to him.
Azul leaned forward, smirk growing. “Many things,” he tapped a gloved finger against his cheek, “your preferred foods, your aesthetic or decor, and curiously,” his eyes locked onto yours, “your interest in me.”
Strictly speaking, that was a bluff; Grim hadn’t told him that. But as you visibly grew flustered, he thought he hit the nail on the head. “Now now, don’t worry, we didn’t discuss anything bad! Rather, after speaking to him, I have a proposal that I believe would interest you greatly.”
He snapped his fingers, and a gleaming golden contract unfurled beside him. Pushing up his glasses, Azul seemed to smile gently at you. “Now, you would gain plenty things - a free meal at Mostro Lounge per week, a consistent stream of gifts, flowers delivered to Ramshackle every Monday, along with meetings with me each Saturday-” He was about to continue when you cut him off.
“This… this has to be some kind of trick,” you muttered, dazed. You didn’t even realize you said it out loud until Azul’s gaze softened, “No, I’m being completely serious, Prefect. I-“ “What is this?” You demanded, straightening up.
Azul visibly bristled at your words, practiced businessman-smile wavering. “This? This is just a fraction of what I can give you!” He forced himself to keep his composure, “o-of course we can amend the contract-“ “Azul! What is the contract for?!” By now you were beyond worried. You had no idea where Grim disappeared to, and had no explanation about this dinner thing Azul clearly dressed to the nines for. “What am I agreeing to?!”
Azul went pink. “I-I…” you could overhear Jade snickering in the kitchen while something seemed to fall over. Azul cleared his throat, starting to look strangely shy. “I would like you to be my partner.” You frowned deeply, “I’m not working with you. Why do you want me to be your business partner anyway?” At your words, you heard Jade and Floyd bark in laughter while Azul looked like he wanted to sink into his suit
“I mean.. romantically,” he whispered. Your eyes widened while your heart pounded. Slowly, things started to fall into place. Your eyes narrowed, this was too good to be true. “Why?” Azul’s eyes widened, “well, why not?” You stayed silent, just looking at him. Despite being in a not-enemy-situation with Azul, you didn’t exactly forget what transpired before winter break. How you and Jack walked into Octavinelle with the twins, and sat across from Azul as he tried to kick you and Grim out of Ramshackle. And how he gave you backhanded insult after insult, and for what? For him to come up to you now, months later, just to tug on your heartstrings?
He still wanted Ramshackle after all that soul-searching at the Atlantica Museum? Anger burned hot in your stomach. Had he no shame?
Azul grew nervous at your silence. Foolishly, he rambled to fill the quiet, “w-well, you’re quite the intriguing human. Not many have successfully defied my contracts. And I… understand that our first meeting was… less than ideal…” He carefully watched for your reactions, but your face was unreadable, “but I am willing to make amends. I’ve grown affectionate of you, and I believe that I can provide you with enough benefits to make you happy.” He tried for a debonair smile and pointed to the contract, “You will receive many things and more. Quite honestly, this deal is very unlike me - truly, I’m going against my own better judgement.”
This had to be a dream. You laughed humorlessly, surprising him. “And what do you receive?” Azul smiled gently at you, “All I really want is you.” You barked out a laugh, feeling so emotionally exhausted you could cry. “Yeah, sure, and Ramshackle right?” Azul’s eyes widened and he hurriedly tried to explain, “No, of course not-” “Yeah right!” You stood up, glaring down at him. “This-this is some kind of trick right?!” You grabbed the contract and scanned it:
“In accordance with help from Grim, he shall be compensated fittingly for the following tasks:
1) Providing information on the Prefect, (Name)’s, interests in a partner
2) Helping with distinguishing of the Prefect’s preferred romantic aesthetics (dining, love language, physical attributes, personality, etc.)
3) Meeting for the summation of one (1) week to discuss topics regarding (Name)
If Grim tells the Prefect, (Name), details regarding Azul Ashengrotto’s plans before the intended date, then he shall be indebted to Azul for an indefinite time as an anemone-worker.”
You didn’t even bother reading the rest of it. Your eyes were locked on the last line.
“You extorted Grim?!” you screeched, making Jade and Floyd stick their heads out the kitchen door. “You extorted Grim and you expect me to date you?!” Azul tried to calm you down, “Yes- I mean no- I just asked him a few questions! He was compensated with food-” “So that’s why he came back late?! This was what Grim was being weird about?” You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, rubbing your eyes and feeling a few tears come out. “I knew that letter had to be some kind of trick. I knew this was a mistake.” Azul bristled, “a mistake?! Do you have any idea how long this took to prepare?! I could date anyone in this school, but I chose you! Against my own better judgement!”
“Yeah,” you agreed, looking him dead in the eye. “You chose the human with ‘no innate magical power.’” Azul flinched, but you blazed on, hyperventilating, “You chose the ‘utterly run-of-the-mill’ human with the one thing you want - Ramshackle.” Azul finally shut up, he talks too much you thought bitterly. “You’ve insulted me in every possible way. You’ve tried to extort me, you’ve taken advantage of Grim twice, and now you’re trying to play with my emotions to kick me out of Ramshackle! Again!” You clenched your fists, vision tunneling. “Are you kidding me?! I am never! Going to date you!” you shoved the now-crumpled contract into Azul’s chest as he blubbered. “I’m not signing that contract! You are the last person I would date on this campus!”
The silence that followed hung in the air thickly. As you breathed heavily, you realized the weight of your words. Azul was by no means a person to make an enemy of, but you had spoken the truth. And he seemed to realize that. “Then if that’s your decision, there’s no point in continuing this dinner.”
Azul sighed quietly, “Floyd, bring Grim out. Let them leave.” Grim bounded up to you, puffing angrily until you gave him a look, “ you, Grim, are in so much trouble.”
—---
The next few weeks were quiet. And considerably unsupervised by two eels and an octopus.
After you told your friends about what happened, unsurprisingly Ace and Deuce were angry. Jack was pissed too, “you’re tellin’ me Azul still wants Ramshackle?! After all this time?” Jack clenched his fists while Deuce had a crazed ‘delinquent’ look. “I thought we showed him not to mess with ya’ before! Even after making us anemone’s he doesn’t know when to quit!”
You sighed, already tired. “look, nothing’s happened. I don’t think he’ll try anything.” Not after you wrecked his ego.
Jack crossed his arms, “that octopunk better not be plotting. He may honor a contract, but you can’t trust a schemer.” You shrugged, “He can’t do anything because I didn’t sign the contract, so even if he did want Ramshackle, he’d have to go about it differently. Anyway,” you glanced at the time, “Lunch is about to end. See you guys after class, c’mon Grim.” You all parted ways, and you and Grim walked into History of Magic.
You listened to Professor Trein drone on, and after a while of notetaking, he cleared his throat. “To end this unit, I will be assigning a project in which you will report on the magical history of a specific place. I have randomly assigned you a place to report on,” he regarded the room full of groaning students, gesturing to the table behind him “you have one month to finish it. Class dismissed. The area you will report on is listed on the papers behind me, beside your name.” Students flocked to the table, and you waited a bit for everyone to clear out while you collected your things.
Finally, you walked to the table and flipped the papers, looking for your and Grim’s names while Trein hummed at the podium. Lucius slunk between your ankles, purring softly while your heart sank at what you had to report on.
“The Coral Sea?” You looked up at Trein, “S-sir, I won’t be able to-” “Why not?,” the man asked, picking Lucius up. You mirrored him and picked Grim up, who crossed his arms, “nya, its Azul’s ‘n his hencheels’ home!” Way to be obvious, Grim. Trein raised an eyebrow, “It’s always good to learn more about others’ homelands. It may do you and Grim good to learn more about this world, and from what I gather, you have been there before.” You flinched, but Trein didn’t seem to condemn you. “However, you aren’t the only terrestrial student assigned an aquatic area. While I won’t make every student visit their assigned areas, I believe it will be beneficial if you visit them. I will speak to Professor Crewel about providing you underwater breathing potions.”
While that wasn’t what you were worried about, you still appreciated it. “Thank you, Professor,” you shouldered Grim, determined. “We won’t let you down.”
—---
After about a week of waiting, and getting jumpscared by Crowley who gave you an underwater breathing potion after singing his own praises (“ah! How generous I am!~”), you and Grim headed to the Dark Mirror. “The Coral Sea,” you called out, gulping, “The Atlantica Memorial Museum.” As the Mirror swirled, so too did your mind as you stepped in after taking the potion.
You floated in the water for a moment. The last time I was here was… Ah, right. When you were stealing from the museum, and when you returned the photo with everyone. The photo… you swam towards the museum, which was thankfully open this time. You willfully ignored the mer-museum goers, some who looked surprised to see a human. You supposed you couldn’t blame them, though - you were floored when you saw the twins’ eel forms for the first time.
You and Grim swam around the exhibits for a bit, with you taking notes and Grim finding the information. Even though you didn’t really want to do the assignment in the first place, you couldn’t deny that it was fascinating seeing human ‘artifacts’ from a merfolk perspective. You were able to get a good amount of material - from the mermaid princess’ hairbrush (which was just a fork?), the Sea King’s trident, and a replica of the Sea Witch’s crown and nautilus. The museum even had some of her old makeup products - which was a shellfish she squeezed. Cool. Anyway.
Now you and Grim were tired, and it was around late lunchtime since you got to the museum as soon as it opened. As you both headed out, Grim stretched, swirling in the water, “henchhuman, I’m hungry!,” his eyes lit up and despite the oceanwater, you swore you could see drool, “Ya think the Coral Sea has any good eats?! Oh, imagine the seafood…!” You noted that the potion duration still had some time left, but still. You were hungry too after using all your energy swimming, and it wasn’t like you’d be back in the Coral Sea anytime soon. After thinking, you nodded, “sure, we can go look.”
The museum was close to the ‘city,’ so you both swam around. A few merfolk murmured in surprise at seeing a human and cat, but you tried to ignore it. Suddenly Grim gasped, “nya, the Mostro Lounge?!” Your head snapped up to the bioluminescent sign. A swirl of emotions went through you, while Grim blanked out remembering his contract. It isn’t like you’ll see Azul here (name). You’ll be fine. “...Azul did say that the Lounge at school is a sister location, I think…” Still, this place looks way too fancy. You definitely couldn’t afford it.
“Welp, we can’t afford it Grim, lets go-” you tried to swirl around and swim off but you were a little clumsy in the water. You knocked over a shell decoration at the entrance accidentally, and Grim crashed into a merman guest. “Hey! Easy there- wait, a human?!” Oh no, immediately the merfolk zeroed in on you. You stiffened nervously. You caught some whispers, “Are they a student?,” “Look, they have a Night Raven College uniform,” “Wow! A human!”
You looked around nervously, unconsciously backing into the restaurant when you heard a female voice behind you. “Oh, are you a student at Night Raven College?” You whirled around, crashing into the tentacles of an older mer-octopus lady. She didn’t seem fazed, but smiled widely at you. Even before she introduced herself, you recognized those eyes and well-placed mole.
“Hello dear! I run this restaurant, my son goes to your school as well! Perhaps you know him?” She held your gaze, but you could feel her tentacles fixing your collar and blazer, while she dusted your shoulders off with her hands. “I- I might,” you stammered, “I’m (name).” “Oh, its so nice to meet one of my baby’s friends! He’s told me all about you!” As she grabbed Grim around the torso with a tentacle, she firmly grasped your shoulders. “Please, you must have something to eat!” As she steered you to a table, you tried to gather your bearings. You were seated, and she thrust a menu into your hands.
“It’s so nice to meet you, (name)! You’re the prefect, right?” Your eyes widened, but she continued. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Azul’s mother! My son is the Octavinelle housewarden,” she said proudly, confirming your suspicions. “Really?,” you asked, wondering what the odds were that you’d meet the mother of the guy you viciously dumped. She took your surprise for confusion, “Yes, I believe you two know each other? He’s mentioned you before. I’ll ask him later!” she beamed, “Please, pick whatever you’d like from the menu! It’s all on the house for my baby’s friends!” She winked, and you managed a nervous smile while Grim cheered. You shakingly pointed out a few foods, and she whisked off to the kitchen in a stream of bubbles.
A few minutes later, she walked back with way more plates than you ordered, and sat down next to you. Even after you asked if she’d like any food, she refused, and simply said “I just want to talk with you! I’ve heard a lot about you~” That made you nervous, but you complied. After the first few minutes, you relaxed a bit, and made easy conversation with her. Even Grim seemed more carefree, after inhaling about five plates of Coral Sea tuna, which she herself made, to your surprise.. Azul definitely got his conversational ability from her, you thought. While Azul used his chattiness to talk people into a contract, his mother used it for hospitality. It was no wonder the original Mostro Lounge was a hit - it was all because of her ability, inside the kitchen and out. This was nice, you thought tenderly.
“It’s good to hear that my baby’s doing well,” she hummed. “I’m glad he has some land friends. I sometimes worry he works too hard,” she chuckled, reminiscent. “You know, he’s always had a hard time opening up to others, outside of the Leech brothers. He’s always had his head in his contracts, he certainly got that from my husband. I’m glad he’s opened up a bit more. I’m glad he has you,” she smiled gently. You felt a bundle of nerves well up inside you, but you simply nodded. “Y-yeah…”
“Well! If you’re finished with your food, then it’s time for dessert!” In a blink of an eye, she swept up the plates with her tentacles and rose from the chair, winking. “I know just the thing! Wait here.” You tried to protest, but she left too quickly. Grim hummed happily while you slunk down in your seat. Azul has a hard time opening up. Was the contract… his way of doing that? I didn’t even hear him out… “Grim,” you asked quietly, “was I too harsh on Azul?” Grim looked up, pondering. “Nya? Henchhuman, you can’t be havin’ second thoughts! Not after you took my tuna away for three months!” You pursed your lips, but started when you heard your name.
“Prefect?!” You snapped up, wide eyed and staring at… “Azul?!” But… not Azul?
There was the housewarden himself, but not in human form. His merform. You were reminded of his overblot form, but that paled in comparison to now. Azul’s tentacles were longer, even longer than Jade and Floyd’s full merforms. His skin was a light lavender, wait he has abs? and the majority of his body was a smooth, inky black that shimmered mesmerizingly in the ocean light. His eyes and hair were a lovely light blue, but now he looked very panicked at you seeing his true self.
“You- you’re-!” Azul shut his eyes tightly, this isn’t happening please not them too, “Prefect please don’t ever mention this, I swear I’ll give you whatever-!” “You’re beautiful,” you gasped in awe. Azul’s eyes widened, and a deep purple blush spread on his face. “Why- you-!” Suddenly you realized where you were, and scrambled for an explanation while Grim zeroed in on the dessert Azul was holding, “I- we’re here because of Trein’s project, and-!” “Hey Azul, gimme that!”
While Grim dug into the dessert, Azul held his head in his hands, sitting next to you, tentacles curling in on themselves as if to make him smaller. You swished your legs around awkwardly, before saying quietly, “I had no idea you’d be here. I… Why are you here? It’s not a holiday.” “I… went to visit my stepfather for advise on the Lounge. I had permission from the headmaster,” he said finally. “I stopped here to see my mother, and you could imagine my surprise when she said a human student was here,” he chuckled humorlessly. “She told me to bring them dessert, and shoved me out the kitchen. It never crossed my mind it was you.”
You bit your lip and looked away. This was the first time you and him were speaking since that failed dinner. “…I’m sorry,” you said finally. “What I said to you in the Lounge was awful, and-”
“No, in hindsight your reaction was… reasonable,” he said to your surprise, “I admit that my methods weren’t… the best,” he said, as if saying that hurt him. Which you supposed it did - Azul didn’t take failure well. And why would he? When he worked so hard to get where he was?
Grim burped, sighing contentedly while Azul’s mother bustled out of the kitchen. “Zuzu! You found your friend!” Azul flinched at the nickname, blushing again, “Mama, please-” “No! I’m sure poor (name) has been sitting here long enough! Why don’t you two take a little swim, hm?” She wrapped a tentacle around your torsos and shoved you gently out the entrance, smiling pointedly at her son. “I’ll take care of Grimmy, you enjoy yourselves!” Grim yowled in protest, but as she turned, you saw her offering a dessert to pacify him. Old habits die hard, you supposed.
By now, the sun was setting, and the ocean was warmed to a pleasant orange. Your hair swayed gently in the current, and you followed Azul along a path. You both stopped on a high rock and sat down, dangling your lower limbs over the ledge. He hadn’t said a word the entire time. You stared into the distance, “Azul, why did you want me to sign that contract?”
He was quiet. “I told you, I wanted you to be my partner.” He hugged his arms as if to shield himself, “You made it quite clear you didn’t want me. And I’ll respect your choice. You won’t hear a word from me or the twins. I promise.” You bit your lip, “you really meant it?” His eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He refused to meet your eyes, but if he did he’d see a smile grow on your face. “You… you didn’t want Ramshackle? Or to… I dunno, get back at me?” “...No. I truly didn’t. I… I really did just want you.” I do want you.
You nudged him gently, “Even against your own better judgement?” you asked jokingly, but he didn’t pick it up. He felt his eyes sting, “I didn’t mean to say that. I panicked and I… even if we…” he swallowed thickly, “I don’t regret falling for you. Even if…” he trailed off, but you felt your heart melt.
“I do foolish things around you,” he whispered. “It’s like all my years of negotiating is gone. But I didn’t want to make you be with me. I wanted you to want to be with me.”
Oh. Oh. Suddenly the jittery feeling you’d had during the dinner came back full-force. “Hey, Azul?” you asked with newfound courage, fueled by adrenaline alone. “You know… you don’t have to make me be with you.” He peeked at you from behind his bangs, eyes wide. Your face started feeling hot, but you grabbed his hand, “I want to be with you too. In every form.”
You didn’t know when you started moving closer to Azul, but right then he dipped his head toward you. His lips captured yours, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly as if trying to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. Immediately your hands cupped his face, and your legs tangled with his limbs. At last, you both pulled away, panting. You were smiling so hard your cheeks began aching.
“Guess I came around in the end, huh?” “Well, my business judgement is always sound, angelfish,” he said smugly, but you weren’t fooled. “You talk to much, Azul,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss.
What a memorable trip to the Coral Sea.
~END
———
Notes: spot the spy x family reference lmao. Also, the blue rose signifies secrecy, pride, admiration, and unrequited love! Ngl i had fun writing this, it was so cathartic to write, but this was my longest fic yet holy shit
For the dinner scene this is what I imagined
You: *yelling at Azul during dinner*
Tweels, peeking from the kitchen and eating popcorn, watching it like a telenovela: damn
Anyway!! Thank you so much for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!
Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee , @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653
(If your user is in bold, it means I wasn’t able to tag you properly 😅)
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst Pride and prejudice au#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#twst#azul x reader#twst grim#octavinelle#octavinelle x reader#twst azul ashengrotto#mama ashengrotto#mostro lounge#twst yuu#calcified writing
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Mortifying
A/N: I respected the WIP poll and finished this first, over my own preferences, because this is a democracy.
Read on AO3
The sound of loud, thumping footsteps on the staircase alerted Harry that he was no longer alone in the house.
His quill paused over the parchment taking up too much of his desk. Paperwork had never been his preferred activity; it had only become an increasing headache since taking leadership of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A burden he would usually welcome any excuse to get away from, but when that excuse was the unmistakable sound of his teenaged daughter stomping upstairs, it was hard to decide which was the least daunting prospect.
The now-familiar sound of one of his children's bedroom doors slamming reverberated through the house. Sighing, Harry placed his quill in its ink pot, steeling himself, as he pushed his chair back from his desk and cautiously made his way out into the hallway.
“Lily?” He called softly, adopting a voice one might typically use when approaching an angry dragon.
The only response he received was the faint thrum of music emanating from her room above, presumably intended as a plausible excuse for why she did not answer her father's call.
Harry hesitated, foot on the bottom stair. It was ridiculous, he knew, to approach his daughter with the same caution he usually applied when chasing dark wizards, but she had been impossible to predict of late, having returned from her second year at Hogwarts with a newfound supply of eye rolls and huffy sighs that were completely at odds with the sweet girl he'd always known.
The music echoed louder through the house as Harry reached the top of the stairs, muffled only slightly by Lily's bedroom door. It was an earsplitting volume that he would more commonly expect from Al.
Harry knocked firmly on Lily's door, loud enough to be heard over the blasting music. It silenced at once. “Go away!”
Despite the definitive instruction, his hand poised around the door handle. He couldn't help but smile at the sign affixed to the door in front of him, Lily's name surrounded by carefully drawn flowers and butterflies, the gentle illustrations clashed starkly with her current tone.
“It's only me,” he said through the door. “I didn't expect you home yet.”
She'd only left an hour ago, popping her head into his office long enough to inform him she would be spending the afternoon at Violet's house, before disappearing. He'd heard the flash of floo powder being thrown into the fire in the living room, and then the house had been silent.
“Well, I'm going to be home for the rest of my life!” Came Lily's dramatic pronouncement from the opposite side of the door.
Harry hesitated only a moment longer. “I'm coming in.” He was already opening the door.
Lily's room was as he'd envisioned; soft lilac walls, shelves covered in plants rather than books, and a stuffed animal collection that had been unceremoniously shoved under the bed recently whenever her friends were expected, and only brought back out when she could be sure there would be no witnesses.
What he hadn’t anticipated was to find Lily sprawled across her bed, face buried in her pillow, bright red hair spilling vibrantly over her white bedding.
Harry crossed the room quickly, perching on the end of her bed. “What's wrong?”
Lily lifted her head just enough for her voice not to be muffled by her pillow. “I want to be homeschooled.”
Harry's eyebrows shot up at this pronouncement, another thing he would've more readily expected from Al. “You love Hogwarts.”
“I did,” Lily corrected. “Before I made a complete fool of myself… Now I can never show my face in public again!”
Harry's hand fell on her back, rubbing soothing circles like he'd done when she was small and her nightmares had called him into this room in the middle of the night. “What's happened?”
Lily shook her head, letting it fall back into the pillow.
“It can't be that bad,” Harry assured her. “Did I ever tell you about the time I fainted on the train?”
Lily's head whipped around, dislodging Harry's hand from her back as she sat up. “Because there was a Dementor, not because you're the most embarrassing person to ever be born!”
“You're not the most embarrassing –”
“Yes, I am!” Lily declared, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Don't tell me I'm not. You have to say that.”
“Alright,” Harry said placatingly. “Will you tell me what happened?”
Lily looked at him, her brown eyes appraising. “Promise not to laugh at me?”
The innocent question caused a pang in Harry's heart. “I would never laugh at you.”
“Lewis Fletcher did,” her tone made it clear this was quite possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Worse than an unexpected Dementor on a train could ever be.
Harry frowned, mentally reeling through his list of Lily's friends in his mind and coming up empty. “Who's Lewis Fletcher?”
Before his eyes, Lily turned a magnificent shade of red. Her eyes fell to the bed, where she was picking nervously at a thread on the cover. “He's a fourth year… he's friends with Violet's brother and he's really good at Quidditch.”
“I see.” He rather wished he didn't.
“I didn't know he was there until he said hello – I jumped and spilled my pumpkin juice all over him.”
“Well, that sounds like an accident,” Harry said fairly, suppressing the urge to smile.
Lily looked up sharply. “You do want to laugh at me!”
“I don't,” Harry said quickly. “Sorry, I was just thinking of your mum.”
“You can't tell Mum!”
The smile Harry had been fighting to repress was quickly battled into submission, not by any of his efforts, but by the look of horror on Lily's face at the suggestion of telling Ginny.
“You tell Mum everything.” More than she ever told Harry.
It had been the same since the moment Lily could walk, her first steps had been towards Ginny, and she hadn't stopped following her since.
It was an actuality Ginny had predicted was about to change only the other day.
"Did you see the look she gave me?” Ginny asked incredulously, pointing her wand at the pile of dirty dishes on the side and directing them to wash themselves. “All I asked her to do was put her laundry in the basket.”
Harry looked up from the fruit he’d been chopping in an attempt to entice Al into something slightly more nutritional than the endless supply of chocolate frogs he’d taken to eating in place of actual meals.
“I’m not asking her to actually do the washing,” Ginny continued before he could say anything. “Although, maybe I should, given the glare I got for washing her purple skirt last week.” Her ensuing impression of Lily was eerily accurate. “‘I need that for Samara’s birthday party! What am I supposed to wear now?’ Oh I don’t know, Lily, what about one of the millions of other outfits I’ve lovingly bought for you?”
Smiling, Harry sent the sliced strawberries, kiwi and banana to mix themselves in the awaiting bowl on the counter. “I have it on good authority that anyone who’s anyone wore purple to Samara’s birthday party.”
Ginny’s laughter was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “Is that what your Auror intelligence is telling you these days?”
“No, I got this information straight from the source… against my will, while trying very hard not to listen, when I took Lily and Violet to Diagon Alley last week.”
“Ah, back in the field, are you, Auror Potter?” Ginny winked at him across the kitchen.
Harry’s sigh shook with barely contained laughter. “My most dangerous mission yet.”
Ginny’s smile faltered, in the space of a blink, it slid from her face. “I’m losing her.”
“You’re not–”
“I am,” Ginny insisted. “She didn’t even ask me what I thought she should wear to that stupid party – she always asks me… that’s it, I’m officially her annoying mother!”
Harry shook his head. “Don’t you think you might be catastrophising a bit?”
“No,” Ginny replied at once. “You have no idea how teenaged girls think. I’m not going to get anything but glares and withering looks for the next seven years.”
“Where are you going?” She was already halfway to the door before Harry managed to ask the question.
Ginny paused, her hand on the doorframe as though she was in need of support. “To order my mum a very large flower arrangement.”
“Yeah, but I'm not telling her this” Lily exclaimed now, throwing Harry one of Ginny’s predicted withering looks. “She's not going to get it… Look at her!”
Lily waved an aggravated arm at the wall opposite, where one of Ginny's old Harpies posters had been hung beside a signed picture of Aurora Fontaine – ‘She's a lyrical genius, Dad!’ – and a collection of hand painted botanical drawings that Neville had given her a few years ago, when it was becoming clear Lily had a green thumb.
Right on cue, the poster version of Ginny tossed her hair dramatically over her shoulder, revealing the Harpies badge on her robes, and looking very much like a woman who would never dream of spilling pumpkin juice on anyone.
Harry decided to ignore the implication that he, apparently, was embarrassing enough to be entrusted with this information. Saving the world just didn't impress teenagers as much as being a professional Quidditch player, a factor he'd foolishly failed to consider when choosing a career path.
“First of all, I think you’re overblowing this a bit, it’s just some pumpkin juice, Lils–”
“His t-shirt turned bright orange!” Lily cried despairingly. “Everyone was laughing at me!”
“No one is going to remember it by the time summer ends,” Harry said, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
Lily did not appear to agree. “I think my best plan is to obliviate them all.”
“Do you know how to do a memory charm?”
“No, but I can learn.”
“So, instead of enjoying your summer, and pretending this minor incident never happened, you’re going to spend it learning how to do a complicated spell, well above your age range, that has a high likelihood of going horribly wrong, and then use it on your friends?”
“Yes.” If Lily grasped the sarcasm in Harry’s tone, she did an excellent job of not showing it.
There was a moment of silence in which Lily slumped back over her pillows, and Harry contemplated whether he might need to confiscate her wand; a loud knock sounded on the door before he could reach a decision.
“Come in – unless it’s James, then go away!”
“Lily,” Harry said warningly.
Fortunately, it wasn’t James. Ginny’s head peered around the door; her brow furrowed, taking in the sight of Harry perched on the edge of Lily’s bed, and Lily still draped forlornly across her pillows.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Lily said quickly, before Harry could answer. “Dad was just leaving.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah, don’t you have one of those reports you’re always going on about to finish?”
Ginny’s eye met Harry's as she sidled into the room, her grin took a great deal of the sting out of Lily’s disdainful tone.
“Well, I don’t know about Dad’s horrifically boring reports, but I’ve just come from the office, and they’ve given me the lineup for this year’s All Star charity Quidditch match… It’ll be in my column tomorrow but I thought you might want the inside scoop.”
Lily looked doubtful, but she did sit up another inch on her pillows. “Is there someone good for once? It was embarrassing watching Ludo Bagman try to play last year.”
Ginny's eyes flicked to Harry's even as she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from smiling. Harry looked away quickly, knowing they were both in agreement with Lily's fair assessment of Bagman's performance the year previous.
Ginny cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t know what her flying skills are like, but they’ve got Aurora Fontaine playing seeker for the celebrity team.”
Upon hearing this, Lily sat up with such ferocity Harry was almost pushed from the bed by the force of her movement.
“You're joking!”
“Would I joke about Aurora Fontaine?” Ginny's eyes met Harry's again, and, as usual, the joke was just between them.
She looked away as she continued to speak, “...and I might have agreed to come out of retirement for one match and play chaser in exchange for some VIP passes.”
Lily's eyes widened; Harry felt his smile grow along with hers. “For me?”
“Obviously,” Ginny said through a laugh. “There's a spare one as well, if you know someone who'd be interested?”
Lily leapt from the bed, pausing only long enough to throw her arms around Ginny in a quick, but delighted, hug, before pulling the door open.
“Where are you going?” Ginny asked.
“To tell Violet!”
“Hang on,” Harry called after her. “I thought you weren’t ever leaving your room again?”
Lily was already halfway out of the door; she threw him an exasperated look over her shoulder. “Dad, this is important.”
With that, she turned and fled the bedroom, the incident apparently forgotten in the face of bigger issues.
Harry pushed himself up from Lily's bed, joining Ginny who was waiting for him in the doorway.
“Do I get a VIP pass?” Harry asked, following her down the landing towards the stairs.
Ginny smirked at him over her shoulder as she began to descend. “No, I stopped trying to impress you around the time I grew three human beings for you.”
Harry laughed, secure in the knowledge he would be expected to supervise Lily if Ginny was playing in the match.
“You don't need to impress her either, she still has a very idealised view of you.”
“I suppose she told you that at the same time she told you she was never leaving her room again?”
They reached the bottom of the stairs; Ginny continued down the downstairs hallway in the direction of the kitchen.
“She spilled pumpkin juice on Lewis Fletcher and he laughed at her apparently,” Harry said, answering Ginny's unasked question as she pointed her wand at the kettle.
“Who’s Lewis Fletcher?”
“No idea,” Harry shrugged, leaning nonchalantly against the counter, as though he didn't have every intention of finding out. “But he's good at Quidditch apparently.”
Ginny paused halfway through retrieving their mugs from the cupboard. “Oh.”
“I was just about to tell her about a certain incident between your elbow and a butter dish to put her mind at ease, but you interrupted me.”
Ginny frowned at him before returning her attention to the kettle. “The butter dish?”
Harry returned her frown. “You don’t remember?”
“You do apparently,” she said evasively.
“Well, maybe she'll forget, and in thirty years, when they're married, he can remind her.”
Ginny shook her head vehemently. “She won't marry him.” She placed the kettle down with a decided thud. “He laughed at her. You never laughed at me.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said you didn't remember?”
“I don’t.” Ginny smiled widely, her eyes sparking with amusement. “I forgot about it instantly.”
“Seems like it,” Harry agreed through a smile of his own.
“I definitely didn’t spend hours in bed replaying it in my mind.” Ginny crossed the kitchen, placing Harry's tea on the counter beside him.
“Of course you didn't.” His hand found her waist, pulling her to him.
Ginny rose up on her toes, still smiling as she closed the distance between them. “It wasn’t mortifying at all.”
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Sonic doesn't know what he loathes more; being forced to sit in the dark, unable to move in a locked cell for Chaos knows how long or facing the nightmares the occasional light entails.
He grumbles to himself as he shifts in his restraints, the chains clinking against the metal floor as he tries to sit up straight once more. Half lidded, tired eyes look ahead aimlessly, the bright shine in those emeralds has taken on a more dulled shade in these past few months or something. How long has he been here exactly? He doesn't know. A part of him doesn't want to know.
He's tired.
Sonic places his head on his knees as softly as he can as to not worsen his throbbing headache and then he runs a hand through his dishevelled quills; his fur is a mess — don't get him wrong, Sonic isn't that much into modern fur care techniques, he just lets the wind style his quills but the recent lack of, well, just about everything from proper food and water to even a hint of sunlight has made his fur thinner than it already was. Sticky with sweat, his fur has become dry, dull and matted. It feels horrible, or that's what he would say if he didn't have worse things to worry about right now.
The door to his cell creaks open, a shilling sound that makes him pin his ears down to his skull and grit his teeth — speak of the devil…
Sonic doesn't look up, doesn't want to, not anymore when he hears someone step in and close the door to his cell once more, blocking the onslaught of more light than he's ever granted in this confined space again.
Again.
It happens again and that's what gnaws at Sonic's guts from the inside out.
Always, he always comes back.
Little, calculated steps patter towards him, a bit scared with the way they move. As if too confused whether or not it's a good idea to reach Sonic and too hasty and terrified that they wish to be next to his side in an instant.
Or so it seems to be, Sonic knows better.
Because always it starts the same; like a dream he wishes so badly to be true, a vestige he longs to hold in his arms, a visage he never wants to let go of and yet he knows how it ends, how he's painstakingly given a ray of hope and how mercilessly it is snatched from his hands, how quickly the light is snuffed out, just how heartlessly everything is taken from him, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than he's ever been, re-evaluating whether he even deserves to be called a hero when he can't even save the people he holds dearest to his heart, why has he gone so weak that he can't even save someone in his protective embrace.
Nothing scared his little brother in his embrace, nothing.
It's as if the warm barrier of his arms is enough to word off every threat, every nightmare, every strike of thunder.
He remembers it so vividly, holding a scared little fox kit close to his chest and watching his tense shoulders relax, his shivering body calm down, his soft sniffles turning into gentle purrs.
It leaves a sour taste in his mouth.
He'll never hold his little brother like that again.
He can't hold him at all.
Tails isn't here anymore.
And it's all Sonic's fault.
The little footsteps stop somewhere before him, not more than a feet or two away. Sonic doesn't want to look up, Sonic doesn't want to see that face again.
(He's lying. He desperately wants to see that face again, he's dying to look in those ocean eyes full of life, to run his hands through the soft golden fur, to wrap himself around that little body and protect him from everything. Everything—)
Sonic's quills bristle when he feels them plop on the cold, metal floor before him.
Nothing happens for what feels like hours. Sonic doesn't look up and his guest doesn't move an inch from the spot they've taken. The silence becomes overwhelming, frightening but Sonic will never say that out loud. Because why should he? Why should he admit he's afraid when he swears he's not.
(And if he's not afraid why won't he look up?)
Sonic has had many nightmares in his life, why does this have to be the worst one, why does this one has to repeat itself — why can't they just let him mourn once.
Everyone dies.
But everyone dies once.
Then why bring him back every time? Why use his face to haunt Sonic? Why can't they just let his little brother rest? Why does he have to suffer just so they can get to Sonic?
What did he do to deserve this?
A small hand rests on his forearm.
Reluctant, yet Sonic finally raises his head.
Just as he feared, he is greeted by his little brother's face. Not the same as he lost him but the same as he so clearly remembers — the brown fur, the big baby blue eyes open wide, the unsure movements, the oh so tiny hands, the cream tipped twin tails, the three unruly bangs… The weak little toddler he took under his wing, malnourished, scared with a mind brighter than anyone else in the whole world and a determination to rival his own.
He looks what? Four? Barely five?
It makes Sonic's heart crumble.
He shouldn't be here. He doesn't belong here.
There's no recognition in emerald eyes, no emotion the little cub before him can decipher. Just tired, dull greens that match lively, bright blues.
The cub tilts his head when Sonic doesn't regard him, one of his ears flops to the side when he does, a small frown tugs at his lips as he knits his brows in confusion and Sonic has seen this little perplexed face too many times to count.
Still, the kit words the question assaulting his mind and, Chaos, the small voice tugs at the hedgehog's heart, “Sonic, are you upset?”
Innocence oozes out of the simple question, the cub's bug eyes don't help Sonic's case at all. He knows it will only hurt to reply, but how long can he ignore a child he raised?
“Yeah… I guess you can say that, bud.” Sonic reaches out a hand, seemingly to pet the kit's head but stops midway. The gloved hand hovers over the younger for a moment before Sonic retracts it, resting it on his knee instead.
If it is possible, Tails adds with an even smaller voice, “... With me?”
Are you upset with me?
What a silly question.
Sonic can never be upset with Tails.
The answer is right there, it is not even something he has to think about. Upset with Tails? As if. He can't be even if he tried to, not more than a second at best. Why would he? The kit has never done anything wrong, anything worth getting mad at. Tails is a good child and he's so much better than Sonic in many ways — Tails is polite, he plays ahead, he's a better negotiator, he's almost always the voice of reason, he makes better decisions — Sonic can never be mad at him.
Yet he says none of it out loud.
His reply never comes.
He doesn't know why.
(Is he actually upset with him? For coming back or for promising to make him live through the loss again?)
The kit all but crumbles at the lack of a reply. His ears pinning against his skull as he lowers his head, carefully taking his cold hand off of Sonic's arm and leaving it lying uselessly in his lap.
Instinct yells at Sonic to pick up the fox cub and cradle him in his arms, hush him and tell him whatever self-deprecating nonsense his brain is feeding is wrong and Sonic can never be upset with him, isn't upset with him right now and how he shouldn't beat himself up over little nothings when his big brother is right there to protect him from ill thoughts but Sonic doesn't move. Don't get him wrong, he wants nothings more that to pull the kit in a strong embrace but he can't get himself to do so.
He always loses Tails in his arms.
He's too scared to hold him, afraid that he will lose him the moment he pulls the boy to his chest.
He doesn't want to.
He doesn't want to go through that again.
Maybe it's selfish of him to think like about his charge but he can't.
He just can't.
If it was anyone but Tails, Sonic might have done something. He might have pushed himself to at least calm them down even if it will just make the departure more painful.
But not Tails.
Not his little brother.
(Not as a toddler for Chaos’ sake)
“Sonic?” The kit calls again, the hedgehog doesn't acknowledge him. Tails continues anyway, “Did I-I do something bad?”
No. No, he didn't. Of course, he didn't. He can never do anything bad. Not in Sonic's eyes, never. Still, the hedgehog doesn't say anything. He doesn't find his voice strong enough to reply. Instead, he rests his head on his knees again and runs a hand through his quills with a sigh.
Now that he's not looking at Tails, it sounds like the kit is on the verge of crying, “Do you not like me anymore?”
Nothing. The answer is right there but Sonic says nothing.
Tails sounds terrified when asks another question after a brief pause, “Are you going to throw me out too?”
Never.
Never.
Sonic will never understand those stupid, superstitious villagers who abandoned this sweet child because of something out of his control, chasing him out of every warm place he could find, starving him, abusing him like he wasn't even a person, looking down at him like he was some freak, sneering at him as if he was a curse — they make his blood boil to this day. Irrelevant, they don't matter. What matters is that Sonic will never be like them, Sonic will never abandon Tails, Sonic will never leave him behind. He will always wait for Tails and they will always stay together because that's just who they are; they're Sonic and Tails, they're the unbreakable bond. Nothing separates them. Nothing can.
And yet…
“I'm scared…” Tails sniffs, “It hurts.”
That gets Sonic's head snapping up, eyes wide open as he uncurls to reach for the kit, looking over him to find any injury that may be causing him pain that he hasn't noticed yet. His chains move with him as he cups the younger's face in his hands — and oh Chaos, did he really use to be this small? — and tries to ignore just how cold he is as he gently checks for whatever is wrong.
“It hurts, Sonic…” The kit cries as Sonic uncovers the bleeding wound that was previously hidden by the tail wrapped around the boy's blood-covered torso. Sonic gulps, finding himself unable to breath at the amount of red staining the cream fur. The wound spans over more than half of Tails’ torso with no signs of the bleeding to stop anytime soon.
It's so unfair.
He hasn't even taken the kit in his arms yet and Tails is already…
“Sonic, please—” Big, fat tears roll down Tails’ muzzle as Sonic wordlessly gathers him in his arms and hastily pulls him to his chest. Tails’ ear flickers with something red as he is moved but Sonic chalks it off as another injury he missed while Tails wraps himself around the hedgehog's middle like his life depends on it. Tails buries his face in Sonic's chest as his voice cracks, “I don't wanna be here anymore.”
“S-Sonic,” Tails calls him again but Sonic doesn't say anything. The hedgehog puts a hand on the boy's back and cradle his head with another as he slowly begins rocking the kit back and forth. None of it helps Tails, “Are you listening?”
He sounds so lost, so desperate.
“I-It hurts… You promised me… You promised you'll save me,” His claws dig into the hedgehog's sides, “Sonic, why aren't you saving me?”
Sonic just rests his face on Tails’ head, nuzzling into his fur as he holds him tight enough that it must hurt. The kit cries and claws, sputtering out words that each feel like a new dagger stabbing Sonic's heart before being mercilessly twisted out. He hates it. He loathes it. He wants nothing more than Tails’ suffering to end.
He doesn't say anything.
At least that way, he can pretend the little body in his arms going still and lifeless doesn't hurt as much as it did the first time. At least that way he can ignore the tears that fall unprompted from his eyes.
_____
It happens again.
It always does.
The door opens with a screeching noise, footsteps sound against the metal floor. They stop somewhere before him.
This time he looks up.
He's met with the masked face of the jackal.
#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#drabble#happy sunday to those who celebrate#heres a deleted scene from the forces fic i think about often#deleted because it conflicted with another plot point :(#you still get it tho :)#at least no one died lol
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Second Son (VI) | Regulus Black
Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.
— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N goes looking for Regulus. Umbridge's spectacular rise and fall are overshadowed by the group's mission to the Department of Mysteries.
Part V / Part VII / Series Masterlist
Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader
Notes: Not canon compliant. Regulus isn't in most of the chapter, but the events that occur are crucial to the story line.
You didn’t head to the dining hall for dinner that night. After sitting on your windowsill in a state of disarray until darkness blanketed over the castle grounds, you realized that Regulus didn’t intend on returning anytime soon.
If ever. But you brushed that thought aside as soon as it surfaced; you didn’t want to mull over the possibility until you were absolutely certain, and you weren’t going to be unless Regulus told you to your face.
Curfew would sweep into the night any moment now, so you made a decision.
Startling up from your stupor, you quickly grab Regulus’ portrait frame and your wand, pacing out of your dorm and the common room. Many sent you furtive glances, intrigued by your determination, while others full-body turned as if tempted to warn you against toeing the line for curfew.
However, it seemed that their words were caught in their throats after catching a glimpse of the blood-stained bandage around your hand. It was clear that you were aware of the consequences of breaking the rules, and you just hoped that you wouldn’t run into Umbridge on your walk.
You wondered what would happen if she caught you. Surely, she wouldn’t use the quill on you again, but you couldn’t rule out the wandering thought that she might just test out a potion by pouring it down your throat.
You truly couldn’t wait for her to run back to her post at the Ministry.
Walking along the cold castle corridors, you cast a silent lumos and bring up the bulb of light to scan the collection of portraits around you. Many of the portraits hissed at the brightness, whispering furiously to usher you away. You didn’t pay any mind to their protests, eyes darting around frantically to try and find Regulus.
You knew that portraits could wander into other portraits located in the same building, so that narrowed down his whereabouts. Unfortunately, Hogwarts happened to be a proprietor of hundreds of valuable portraits–so Regulus could be anywhere.
Growing restless as hot frustration pervades your chest, your shoulders sag as you stop in defeat. Standing in the middle of the corridor, your wand resting by your side, you turn your head up to the ceiling. It felt like a million thoughts were whirring in the back of your brain, yet every single one evaded your mental grasp.
It was overwhelming. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions coursing through you. Unconsciously patting the vacant frame in your pocket, you begin to slowly walk forward into the darkness, no real destination or plan in mind.
It was likely past curfew now, and you imagined that you’d already be halfway down to the shrieking shack if you had Harry’s invisibility cloak on you. You didn’t want to stay in your dorm, every inch of your side of the room was infused with the memory of Regulus.
You wanted to be somewhere where you could forget. Somewhere that took your mind off of Voldemort’s antics. Somewhere where you could stop stewing over the absurdity of your feelings and attachment to Regulus–a portrait.
Merlin, you weren’t even sure how much of him was human. What did he retain? Was he real? Yes. Maybe. You didn’t know. But it was giving you a headache.
Maybe him leaving was good. You needed to sort out your feelings and confusion.
Suddenly, you hear two pairs of footsteps echo around the walls. Loud clicking and uneven stomps. You had grown accustomed to hearing those two walks. Umbridge and Filch. Scrambling further down the hall, you quickly disperse your lumos as you reach a turn in the corridor.
As you throw yourself against the stone wall, you peer from around the corner to see a faint light along with two figures. They stop just yards away from your position in the darkness, and you hear Umbridge begin to order Filch around, “These as well. They must go at once!”
Of course, he was doing her bidding. You were pretty sure he had a school boy crush on her.
Furrowing your brows, you watch attentively as Filch begins to lift the portraits off the walls, shaking them to the side to empty them. Shock paralyzes your body as he continues to move down the frames, savoring the loud protests echoing from the other paintings.
Umbridge looks downright pleased by Filch’s compliance, simply making a noise of approval before spinning on her heel and strutting back from the direction they both came from.
This was madness. First, performing Ministry evaluation on teachers, now dictating what kind of decor was appropriate? But it didn’t make sense, why would the Ministry want all of the castle paintings removed? Making Hogwarts a barren institution did very little for them.
Quickly straightening up from your huddled position, you begin to walk down the dark corridor, eyes partially accustomed to the dimness now. There was no way you could cut past Filch now, so going back to the dorms was completely out of the question. Perhaps, you could just spend the night in the Room of Requirement.
As you quietly navigate through the castle, a sudden epiphany strikes you. Stopping in your tracks, your mouth parts in dumbfoundedness as you realize that the Ministry does not care about the castle paintings. Umbridge taking them down was out of her own fear, and as a show of power–something she would have never done without explicit permission.
Dumbledore would never allow the paintings to come down. Which means the Ministry did something to usurp Dumbledore.
Merlin. Was he being punished for the D.A.? If so, Umbridge was now the reigning head of Hogwarts.
And Harry didn’t know.
Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, you pick up your pace towards the Room of Requirement as you process the revelation. As you quickly approach the wall in your distraught state, you let your mind slip to the first thought screaming at you in your head.
I need to find Regulus.
The large wooden doors appear with a muted crackling, the door handles protruding out just large enough for you to distinguish in the darkness. Quickly swinging open the door, you don’t process the sight in front of you until the door is shutting behind you with a click.
You are rooted to the spot for what seems like hours, taking in the familiar sight in front of you. This seemed to be a cruel joke, but the magic doesn’t lie, your magic seemed to sing in harmony with the room just as it did over the summer.
The disappearing room at Grimmauld Place was right in front of you. No. Just the disappearing room. It didn’t seem to be truly tied to Grimmauld Place if it appeared at Hogwarts.
Inklings of warm magic flowed throughout the dusty room, entangling with your cooler magic. Earlier, you thought of a place where you could find Regulus. Did that mean that he somehow was in the disappearing room?
Closing your eyes, you concentrate on reaching out to the magic in the room. You had spent enough time with Regulus’ portrait to grow familiar with the feeling of his magic. If he were in the room, you would be able to tell.
The cool stretch of your magical core blanketed the room, but gradually receded as you realized you couldn’t feel Regulus’ warmth. Oddly enough though, you felt something akin to Regulus’ magic, almost like a faint wisp of magic tied to the room.
What could it all mean?
Your escapade brought more than you could have bargained for. The information was overloading your brain, and you slowly willed your legs to move around the cluttered room.
Yes, this was truly the disappearing room, not a fib version conjured up by the Room of Requirement’s magic.
There was time to kill, meaning you could finish exploring the expanse of the room’s items. Over the summer, you were too engrossed with bonding with Regulus to try and sift through the items, and you weren’t sure you’d get a window of opportunity quite like this again.
Running your eyes along the room, the familiar dresser you attempted to investigate the first time you accessed the room caught your attention. Slowly reaching over to pull out the bottommost drawer, you hesitate for a beat as if anticipating for Regulus to magically appear and ask you what you were doing like he did the first time.
When nothing happens, you suppress a heavy sigh of disappointment. Pulling at the brass knob in defeat, your eyebrows stitch together as the drawer’s contents reveal themselves.
The first to catch your eyes is an expanse of gloomy colors, painted delicately to capture the details of an ashen cliffside, strokes of navy and sapphire paint overlapping to create waves. In the right corner of the canvas, signed in the peaks of a wave, a simple R.A.B beams up at you.
Regulus Arcturus Black.
The painting was so finely detailed that you could have mistaken it for a photograph.
Under the oceanside painting, you realize that dozens of canvases occupied the drawer, evidently all belonging to Regulus.
It felt like you were intruding on his privacy, so slowly, you pushed the drawer shut and tried to erase the sight of his vivid paintings from your mind. Taking another once-over of the room, you huddle against one of its corners, resting your head on your knees. As your eyes grew heavier, and you slipped into the void of unconsciousness, one last silent thought burned at the surface of your brain.
Regulus stored those paintings in here while he was still alive. He’s been here at one point in time.
You’re nudged awake by an aching in your lower back, body stiff from the position you fell asleep in. Unfortunately, there was no telling how much time had passed since you went to sleep, so it was better to leave sooner than later.
Stretching your sore muscles and stiff joints, you quickly smooth down the wrinkles in your shirt, tightening your tie. Luckily, you didn’t go exploring in your sleep wear the night before. Reaching for the crystal door knob, you pause and take in the sight of the room one last time.
Until next time. Your bittersweet farewell left a sour note in your chest as you were forced to return to reality.
Quickly exiting the room, you swing your head furiously side to side in order to scan for people. Releasing a breath of relief, you realize the corridor was desolate. Facing one of the grand glass windows, you realize that it was around sunrise. Good, there was time for you to sneak back to your room before your dorm mates woke up.
As you padded through the passageways, you realize that Filch managed to strip away every single portrait from the castle walls overnight. He was surely dedicated, but now you were incredibly anxious about Regulus’ whereabouts.
In the spur of your tornado of thoughts, you suddenly are struck with a realization that has you loudly gasping and suddenly sprinting to your dorm room.
Today was the first day of your O.W.L exams. Oh you were nominally, extraordinarily fucked.
As you sit in Umbridge’s class, quill in hand, you briefly amuse yourself with your thoughts as you stare down at the paper in front of you. You had almost skipped breakfast in favor of last minute cramming, but your dorm mates practically hauled you to the dining hall, reprimanding you good-heartedly about your absence during dinner the night before.
Question 7. What is the incantation for the tongue-tying curse?
Sweet Merlin. Sifting through your mind, you curse yourself as you realize that there were a lot of holes in your memory. Your stress and anxiety over Regulus seemed to impede on your mental capacity. Think. Mutterwutter? No, that’s not it. Mibblewimbble!
Silently cheering at your victory, you go to write the answer, but a distant rumble pulls you from your concentration. Lifting your head up in confusion, you note that everyone was now distracted because of the noise.
Tilting your head to the side, you briefly make eye contact with Umbridge as she hurriedly goes to investigate the source of the disruption.
One moment there is a gaping silence as everyone waits with bated breath, the next, the twins are flying in on their brooms, scattering your test papers in the air. You’re unable to contain your laugh of wonder as they proceed to chuck sticks of fireworks over your heads, bursts of colorful sparks clouding the ceiling arches.
Oh, Mrs.Weasley is going to be so pissed.
Soon, you’re joining Harry and Ron’s side as you watch a firework dragon chase Umbridge towards the doors of the classroom. As the dragon explodes around her stout figure, the sharp sound of shattering glass cuts through the noise of firework explosions. Umbridge freezes in shock as the frames of her educational decrees come crashing down from the walls.
Splints of wood surround the furious woman and you’re snorting a laugh as you take in her ashen state.
Oh, how the cookie crumbles.
Grabbing Harry’s hand, you don’t look back as everyone in the class rushes outside to follow the Weasley twins, cheering at your professor’s karma. Amidst the thunderous noise of clapping and laughter, you’re snapped from your excitement as Harry makes a choked noise next to you, beginning to sway on his feet.
“Harry?” Your voice comes out as a mere whisper.
He seems unaware of your panic, slowly falling to the ground, eyes wide in fear and shock. You scramble to kneel in front of him, grabbing at his shoulders as he breathes heavily and seems to look through you.
Another vision from Voldemort. Of course, the bastard had to spoil every happy memory Harry had.
The few minutes seem to blur together, one moment Hermione and Ron were crouching next to you, the next, you were rushing up deserted stairs with the trio as Harry frantically explained his vision. Your stomach churns at the thought of Sirius being in danger, having been captured by Voldemort of all people. You weren’t exactly close with the man, but he was Harry’s family and Regulus’ brother, so you did care to a great degree for his safety.
“What if Voldemort meant for you to see this? What if he’s only hurting Sirius to try and get to you?” Hermione’s words come out breathless, but firm, trying to ground Harry to reason.
“What if he is? I’m just supposed to let him die? Hermione, he’s all the family I’ve got left.” You find yourself agreeing with Harry’s words, but you also know you could very well be marching to your death because of this vision.
The conversation leads to the formulation of a shifty plan, something you were already used to dealing with, having been friends with the three for so long now. As you all break into Umbridge’s office to access the floo network, your heart nearly stutters to a stop as Umbridge’s sharp voice interrupts your mission and punctuates just how screwed you all were.
Damn, you forgot to check to see if the room was warded.
You gave little care to her prattling as she pushed Harry into a chair, members of the Inquisitorial Squad holding you and your friends by your collars like wet dogs. Though, your attention snaps to Umbridge once she slaps Harry, berating him for his dishonesty. Merlin, even Draco shifted away in shock.
God, where was Rita Skeeter when you actually needed her?
Your mental cries for help only increased in severity once Professor Snape came barreling through the doors, sneering down on Umbridge as she requested the use of Veritaserum on Harry.
Merlin, she’s lost the plot.
It seemed that the trio’s influence rubbed off on not only you, but a couple of your other (usually reasonable) friends as well. It was merely half an hour after Umbridge tossed you out of her office when the four of you, Luna, Neville, and Ginny were convening on the bridge, conceiving another, probably awful, plan.
If Voldemort and his death eaters didn’t get you first, the Ministry surely would toss you to the dementors for trespassing in the Department of Mysteries. Reaching in your pocket to toy with Regulus’ frame, you nervously try to run through a back up plan in case everything spiraled into disaster (which it most likely would).
Harry’s scouts in action, once again. Though, you’d do it all over again for him, he didn’t deserve to shoulder the burden alone.
But if you died, you’d never get to say goodbye to Regulus, and no one would know about his portrait.
He’d be alone again.
That left you all but one choice. You couldn’t die, even if that meant having to kick Voldemort where the sun doesn’t shine in order to escape.
“Luna, I love you, but if I fall off and die, I’m going to be quite miffed.” Your words come out playful, but you were being completely serious as you try to suppress a wave of nausea once she suggests flying on thestrals in order to get to the Ministry.
Couldn’t you all have a normal day for once in your life?
Forget a career. You’d just write an autobiography about your adventures after you graduate. You could be the next Gilderoy Lockhart–except without all the lying and felonies.
Surprisingly, you didn’t slip off or faint on the journey to the Ministry, even when you got lightheaded as your thestral suddenly dove down once you were nearing your destination.
That’s a win in your books.
You find yourself fiddling with your wand as you all clambered into one of the Ministry elevators, adrenaline suddenly weaning away as unease enveloped your body. Tilting your head to look up at the elevator ceiling, you have little time to panic as you feel a hand land on your shoulder.
Turning your head to the side, you raise an eyebrow at Luna’s soft smile, “Don’t worry, he is always watching over you.”
Mouth falling open at the girl’s ominous words, you can only squeak out a small response, “Him? As in God?”
She shakes her head in amusement, leaning over to quietly whisper in your ear, “The one who is always with you, in your pocket. The nargles told me. They say he’s a strange one, special magic. I can see it too, all around your ring.”
Shifting your shoulder to study her in shock, your hand instinctively slaps against your jacket pocket, the frame pressing against your palm.
As the elevator dings, Luna loops her arm in yours, “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
Releasing a breath of exhaustion, you simply pat her hand and whisper a small, “Thanks.” You’d question her uncanny abilities at another hour, for now you just hoped you’d all survive to see the next sunset.
As your group warily files into the hallway, you take a moment to appreciate the interior design, intrigued by the design choice to have floor-to-ceiling black tiles.
Understandment dawned on you though, once your group entered through the hallway door, entering a vast room of high shelves, spanning hundreds of feet high, so far that it seemed to disappear into the darkness. As you peer over Neville’s shoulder, you realize that the shelves seemed to go on for hundreds of rows.
It seemed that the Department of Mysteries was going for a grand theme of monotony. Fascinating stuff.
Casting a small lumos, you trek next to Luna as your group walks further down the aisle, Harry soon breaking away to rush and see if Sirius was anywhere around (being tortured and whatnot). Luckily, Sirius was nowhere to be found. Unluckily, you had an eerie suspicion you were now all trapped like rats in a metal cage.
Harry reaches to pick up a small orb of fog, a familiar voice beginning to croak a prophecy as he holds the sphere tightly. That voice. You knew that voice, and apparently so did Hermione as you see her cringe from the corner of your eye.
Bloody hell, Professor Trelawney was responsible for Harry’s prophecy? You had no idea the woman was an actual seer, after all, Luna gave her a run for her money.
“Harry.” Hermione’s voice is quiet but taut with panic, a sound concerning enough to have your group following her gaze towards the darkness. Slowly, a masked figure breaks through the wall of black.
A death eater.
“Fuck. It’s a trap.” Your words come out breathless and you spin on your heel to check your surroundings. Not being able to identify any other threat, you turn back towards the approaching death eater just in time for them to pull out their wand and disperse their mask.
Fuck, even worse. Not just any death eater, it was Lucius Malfoy of all people. Of course, Voldemort just had to send in the most insufferable, bigoted–wait. Was that?--
“Bellatrix Lestrange.” Neville’s words come out with more bite than you’ve ever heard from the boy, and for a moment you want to break from the tense moment to give him a proud smile.
Not the time.
As Lucius continues to try and coax Harry, your nerves prickle as you realize that you were gradually being surrounded. Shifting closer to Ginny and Luna, you draw your wand as you steel your nerves.
“Now!” Harry’s command has all of you firing off your best stupefy as you begin to sprint through the endless rows, inevitably splitting up as death eaters begin to apparate around you. Realizing that you somehow managed to end up alone, you prepare yourself just as a black swirl appears in front of you.
Ducking as a spell flies over your head, you whip your wand towards the cloaked figure, hissing a confringo that fires off more fiercely than you intended. Seemingly startled at your reflexes, the figure narrowly misses being reduced to meat scraps by apparating away, allowing you to blindly sprint forward.
Merlin’s balls, you just casted a pretty impressive curse.
Letting out a noise of surprise, you nearly crash into your friends as you all reunite in a circle. As a black wisp quickly flies towards you, Ginny steps forwards and casts a firm reducto, reducing the black wisp into a bright light. That didn’t kill anyone, did it? No matter.
“Ginny, you are truly amazing.” Your words come out unevenly as you try to catch your breath, catching the small smile the redhead sends your way. Your amusement is cut short, though, as the impact of her spell has orbs falling from the shelves and raining down towards your group in heavy clusters.
Trespassing? Check. Breaking and entering? Check. Destruction of private property? Check. Potential manslaughter? Check. Today was just a fun little getaway to see how much you could extend your criminal record.
Soon, you’re all blindly running towards a door that has you falling towards the ground at an alarming speed. Just before you’re reduced to a human pancake, you all are jolted to a stop just inches away from the ground.
As you’re softly dropped onto the floor, you let out an ungraceful grunt as you clamber onto your legs, trying to make sense of the day’s events. You probably aged ten years from stress, so surely Harry would die young from heart problems at this rate.
Looking around the room, you realize it was completely empty save for the giant stone structure erected in the middle. The translucent swirling that filled the door-shaped gap of the structure made you realize just exactly what it was.
“The veil.” Your whisper comes out as a mixture of awe and excitement.
“Indeed.”
You barely have time to register the scratchy voice behind you before you’re being manhandled by an iron grip, holding you in place. Your friends have no time to notice your predicament before they’re being swarmed by streaks of black.
Damn. A part of you had hoped that the death eater lieutenants had succumbed to the downpour of crystal balls earlier.
In record time, the intruding death eaters have you all successfully apprehended, victorious sneers painting their faces.
Sure. How impressive of them to successfully take down a group of students.
Their victory doesn’t last very long as before they could do any real damage, light fills the room as Aurors apparate in, allowing you to sag in relief. The man holding you draws in a breath of panic before he’s tossing you to the side and firing off a killing curse at Moody.
Awfully nice of him to spare your life, yet vaguely offensive that he didn’t perceive you to be a threat.
Not wanting to interfere with the Aurors' concentration, you hurriedly shuffle away from the fighting and towards your friends. Sweeping your eyes over the chaos, you manage to see Sirius guiding Harry away from blasts and hexes, guarding him from flying rubble. No doubt, the man was still cracking jokes at such a time.
The next time you look over at the pair, you almost tumble down in shock as you see a curse hit Sirius square in the chest. His body goes rigid before immediately falling limp, slowly sagging backwards.
Your heart seemed to disappear in that moment, dread pouring over you like a bucket of freezing cold water.
Harry’s scream is unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him, but it's enough to kickstart your brain.
Acting on instinct, you pull out your wand and cast a swift trahens actio, snagging his body towards you midfall, pulling him from falling back into the jaws of the veil. There was still a chance.
The next few moments are a blur and you’re barely focused enough to stay upright. You’re vaguely aware of Harry sprinting after a cackling Bellatrix, and you lean back against the wall, finding purchase on its stability. Sirius’ motionless body lies a couple of feet ahead of you, and you want to sigh in relief as you see Remus sprinting towards him, dropping to his knees and immediately checking for a pulse.
Murmuring incoherently to yourself, you blindly fish around in your pocket for Regulus’ portrait, needing to ground yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.
As you blurrily peer down at the small item, you’re sure you must be dreaming as you lock eyes with the boy you’ve desperately been looking for, his own eyes swimming with concern and uncertainty.
“Reggie?”
And the world seems to stutter to a stop.
tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @urgurlfave @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel
#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black imagine#regulus black scenario#regulus black fluff#regulus x reader#regulus deserved better#regulus black series#harry potter series#harry potter and the order of the phoenix#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter imagine#regulus black fanfiction#the noble house of black#sirius black#hermione granger#ronald weasley#the weasley twins#luna lovegood
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— utter chaos
james potter x animagus!reader
platonic!marauders x animagus!reader
where James and Sirius interrupt yours, Peter’s, and remus’s study session in the most chaotic way possible. Accident or not.
a/n: idc idc Peter is a marauder too outside of canon. This is more of a ‘what it’s like being friends with the marauders’ than a James potter lovey one but oh well. You’re welcome A.
You don’t have to listen to the song, but I recommend that you do :))
Usually when you needed help on a subject, you went to library for a study session with Lily, Remus, and sometimes accompanied with Peter.
Today just so happened to be a day where Lily went on a date with Mary so Peter accompanied you. Sitting in the far corner of the library, studying for Potions and it’s upcoming O.W.L. you and Peter listened to Remus explain the process of making Liquid Luck.
“But the book says twelve! Why wouldn’t I listen to the author?!” Peter lowly shouted, gripping his hair in frustration.
“He literally wrote the book! Why would it be wrong, Remus?” You asked, laying your head in hands.
Remus sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling an oncoming headache from how many times you both had complained.
“It’s a typo, I asked professor slughorn and he said it was thirteen.” He patiently explained.
Peter slapped down his quill and shot back into his chair, “okay! So why didn’t he tell us that then, hmm?”
“I swear to all things holy they just want us to fail,” you said shaking your head.
Remus ran his hands in his hair and let them rest on his neck. “They don’t want you to fail, it was just a typo and I’m sure Slughorn will mention it.”
Peter squinted his eyes at Remus. “Why do I not believe yo—”
He was cut off by a pair of hands shaking his shoulders, “who would ever not believe our beloved Moony?”
A kiss on your cheek made you look away from Sirius and Peter to James’ face inches from yours. “How are you my lovely darling?”
He placed another kiss on your lips this time and you mumbled in between kisses. “I’m good, you?”
James smiled and placed another kiss on your forehead, “better now that I’m with you.”
Sirius made an offended sound and practically slammed his hands on the table earning a shush from Peter. “What do you mean!? Am I not good company? I thought you loved me James?”
James kneeled to the floor next to you and placed his arms on your thighs, “you are, I just like my darlings company better.”
You ran a hand through his messy curls, “aw Jamie, you’re so sweet.”
He gave you a dopey grin that was promptly wiped off when Sirius suddenly threw himself on him ruffling up his messy hair even more. “Aw Jamie poo, you’re so sweet and caring, you—”
“Shove off!” James pushed Sirius off him and stood up.
Sirius took himself off the floor and launched himself onto James again. “Take it back!”
The two boys started wrestling, laughing wildly and spinning around their little area. Peter hurriedly got up with his arms outstretched, “Shush! Shut up, stop it! Shh!”
“Oh my—” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head and a slight laugh from the sight of your boyfriend and his best friend.
Remus shook his head annoyed, “both of you, quit it. Now.” He said like a stern parent.
James and Sirius were progressively getting louder, now shoving each other. James hit one of the bookshelves, and for a moment you all thought it was going to fall but luckily it didn’t.
But that only got the boys more riled up.
“Ow! Don’t pull the hair, you wanker!” Sirius shouted jumping on James’s back and said boy spun around really fast with a shout.
“James! Stop it!” You tried intervening but you only ignored.
Peter jumped in his place slightly. “Shut up! Stop it! Shh! Shh!!” He glanced towards Remus, so he could say something.
Remus was now stood up with his brows raised and an arm stretched out, stressed as they almost dropped a bookshelf. “James, Sirius, quit it now and shut up!”
The taller boy shoved Sirius away with a loud belly laugh, making the boy hit a different bookshelf making it creak as it moved.
All of you froze as it leaned back slowly and then suddenly two loud bangs to resonated throughout the library and dust flew everywhere from two fallen bookshelves.
It was dead silent. James was panting heavily with a dying smile on his face, Sirius was on the ground in front of the fallen bookshelves with his hair covering half his face, Peter was frozen with his arms outstretched, Remus was bent slightly from the bangs that scared him, and you were still in your seat, mouth agape.
It seemed as if time stopped and the only thing to break the spell was a loud yell.
“WHAT IN MERLINS NAME WAS THAT?!”
At the sound of Madam Prince yelling, you all took your leave.
You, James, Sirius, and Peter changed into your animagus forms and took off.
“Wait! No fair! No fair! I can’t turn into one!” Remus scrambled to grab his tote bag and books before running after you all.
A stag, a black dog, a wildcat, a rat, and a tall lanky boy with scars ran through the castle halls in between students that were screaming, laughing, and gasping at the sight of you all causing complete and utter chaos.
“s’ cuse me! Sorry! Move out the way!” Remus yelled struggling to hold all his stuff as he ran.
The next hall over, Professor Mcgonagall furrowed her brows from the loud noises coming from the other hall.
She approached the corner when suddenly a stag appeared in front of her with a rat moving wildly on its antlers. The stag moved side to side before running away with a loud huff.
Next a black dog ran towards her loudly barking, causing her to move to the wall gazing at the three animals.
Then a wildcat ran and jumped on the wall she was against and leaped over her causing the professor to yelp and hold a hand to her chest.
Lastly a tall, sweaty boy, ran the corner panting, with his robes falling off his shoulders, and books nearly falling from his grip.
Professor Mcgonagall stuttered and held a hand in the air towards the boy. “Mr. Lupin? Mr. Lupin!”
Remus barely glanced back, “I’m sorry professor!” He rounded the corner with a loud ‘wait for me! It’s not fair!’ before Madam Prince rounded the corner too panting.
“I-I don’t—” the librarian cut herself off and gazed out the window along with the rest of the students where the unlikely group of animals ran past.
You guessed that Hogwarts had never seen such a group of animals with a panicky boy chasing after said animals very often.
#70s#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#the marauders#james potter#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter one shot#james potter x fem!reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin#remus lupin x you#james potter x reader#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin fluff#remus x reader#remus lupin drabble#james & peter & remus & sirius#sirius black x reader#sirius x reader#sirius black fluff#peter pettigrew#sirius black imagine
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Prompt 15 - Before
@wolfstarmicrofic January 15, word count 974
It was the day of the full moon. Remus, had slept for most of the morning but was determined to get to his afternoon lessons. He ached all over. Some of his rib bones kept flexing painfully as though getting ready for later that night. Sirius had come and collected him for lunch. After they had double potions. Remus didn’t particularly like potions, but Lily had agreed to do most of the work, letting Remus sit at the desk and read out the instructions to her or chop the next ingredients.
The room felt insanely hot for some reason this lesson. It wasn’t long before Remus had a splitting headache. Everything was too loud. He couldn’t seem to filter anything out. Every little sound found its way to his ears. He could hear Peter nibbling on the end of his quill. Mulciber scratching his arse, and Snivillius sniffed repeatedly as he refused to use a tissue.
He was clammy and feeling very nauseous. He wanted to leave so badly, but he had to be careful not to draw attention to how often he was ‘ill’.
He felt a gust of cool air begin blowing over him. He closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them again and looked around the room trying to find the source. Sirius winked at him, his wand in his hand. Remus was suddenly overcome with emotion and had to look up at the stone ceiling to keep the tears from flooding down his cheeks.
“You doing ok, Remus?” Lily whispered. She knew about his furry little problem and would constantly check on him on the run-up to the full moon. He nodded slowly at her, not wanting to move too quickly in case he was sick.
Eventually, the lesson was over. Lily had successfully brewed their Befuddlement draught with almost no help from Remus and now there was only dinner to go before he went to the hospital wing.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a minute.” He told Sirius as he packed his things away.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting for you.” Sirius said full of concern.
“No, it’s fine. You guys go eat. I’m probably not going to have much anyway. Plus, my head hurts. I’m going to need a minute before I can deal with the Great Hall.” Remus winced as someone scraped a stool across the floor. Sirius reached out and squeezed his hands.
“Okay, I’ll make a plate up for you for when you’re ready.” Sirius grabbed his things and followed the others out of the classroom.
Remus followed soon after, relishing in the coolness of the corridors. He was just debating whether it would be better if he went straight to the hospital wing instead of dealing with the Great Hall when he found himself being cornered by Snape and his cronies. He must have wandered down the wrong corridor on his way back up to the main part of the castle. He really wasn’t in the mood for this.
“Aww been abandoned Lupin? Have your little pals finally had enough of you?” Snape sneered at him. Remus let his wand slip down into his hand from his holster. Mulciber and Avery were still chortling at Snape’s not-so-funny retorts.
“Piss off Snape. Haven’t you got anything better to do, like washing your hair maybe?!” Remus growled, narrowing his eyes as hatred flooded his veins. This close to the full moon the anger came easily. Sparks shot out of his fingers, he just wanted to be left alone.
They swarmed him, pressing him further into a corner. He was trapped. More sparks shot from his fingers. Mulciber shoved him into the wall sending spikes of pain through his body. He started shaking. He wasn’t in control of his magic anymore, one more hit and he’d explode. His eyes darted around looking for a way out.
“Gods, you are a lunatic aren’t you Lupin?” Snape snarled at him. “What are you going to do lunatic? There’s three of us, don’t think you’re going to make it out.” Remus tried to push past Mulciber but he slammed him back. Remus cried out in pain. He barely stopped his magic from blasting out into the Slytherins.
“Well, well, Snivillus. And what exactly do you think you’re doing to our Moony?” Sirius appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the wall and buffing his nails on his robes. “Petrificus totalus.” He said lazily, pointing his wand at Muliciber. Not even waiting for him to hit the floor before he repeated the spell on Avery. He turned his attention to Remus.
“You alright, Moony?” He asked, completely ignoring Snape. Remus shook his head. He could feel his magic wrapping around himself. He needed to get to the shack, away from the other students.
“Sirius, I need you to get me out of here before I hex someone.” Hex was putting it lightly, but Sirius knew the signs of Remus’s magic explosions.
“Okay, come on, let’s get going.” He held out a hand that he knew Remus wouldn’t take, but it was a gesture to get him moving.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Snape screamed after them. Sirius didn’t even turn around. He shot the spell over his shoulder as he kept an eye on Remus limping next to him. Snape fell to the ground in a full body-lock curse.
“Sirius, I need to get rid of this magic before I explode.” Remus held up a hand, showing the blue threads wrapping themselves around his fingers and disappearing up his sleeves. Sirius nodded, still not touching him.
“We’ll get you to the shack, and then I’ll help you get rid of it.” Remus nodded. His whole body shaking. Just a little longer, he kept telling himself. Just hold on a little longer before you let it go.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#sirius black#remus lupin#remus x sirius#sirius and remus#sirius x remus#lily evans#severus snape#the marauders#marauders era#the marauders’ era#dead gay wizards#marauders#before
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Do you see Harry as a professor or Auror trainer? I could see him temporarily becoming an Auror trainer if he injured himself and needed time off the field work for a bit but I can’t see him doing it permanently. I can’t see him becoming a professor at all. If I’m reading a fic and someone has him transitioning to a professor I end up losing interest. I could see him dropping in DADA from time to time a guest speaker but there is NO WAY Harry Potter is wiling to take a career where he has to read through multiple papers and prepare for exams. I can see him loving the practical part but that’s it. It would become dull in seconds, and Harry wouldn’t last more than a year. I know a lot of people write him becoming an Auror then professor, because of ootp but Harry Potter doesn’t like paper work, and grading multiple papers for people would be a headache for him. But the thrill of solving a case and locking up criminals is exactly where Harry belongs.
I agree with you. I know that’s an unpopular opinion.
I just cannot jive with DADA professor Harry. It actually makes me nope out of a story. Harry is smart, but he’s not studious. He’d be bored to tears grading essays and tests and all that. I think he’d enjoy the practical teaching, but it’s all the back end stuff that he’d hate. I feel like he’d be so bored that he’d perk up when someone said they lost their quill so he could investigate the case of the missing quill to make life a little more exciting.
I DO like him eventually becoming an Auror trainer when he’s old. I can see him teaching a dueling class with no essays or tests. It’s all practical and it’s very much like the DA and he enjoys it in his old age.
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need cedric fluff now, idc whatever your feeling bae
sleepy || cedric diggory x reader
word count; 424
pairing; cedric diggory x gender neutral reader
description; sleepy cuddles!!
warnings; reader is shorter than cedric, literally so much fluff omg, established relationship
a/n; i love this blurb aughhhhhh
“you’re going to give yourself a headache doing that m’love.”
you flipped cedric off without even looking at him as you continued to write your potions essay. curse severus snape and his unreasonably long essays. you were at the tenth inch of your drawn out essay and you exhaled as you finished the last sentence. you dropped your quill and let your forehead hit the table in front of you.
footsteps were heard behind you as cedric’s fingers started to work themselves into your shoulders and neck. you let out a relieved huff and turned your head, your cheek resting on the desk top now.
“come to bed,” he whispered as he dipped down and placed sweet chaste kisses behind your ear that trailed down your neck and your shoulder. cedric couldn’t be more grateful for the easy access to your skin due to your tank top. you enjoyed the moment as you pondered.
your eyes fluttered open as you stood up and turned to face cedric, your his pajama pants flowing past your feet. he smiled at you tiredly yet fondly as his hands took yours. he pulled you close and rested his head upon yours, swaying slowly. it was nearly midnight.
thank merlin for weekends.
you almost fell asleep on the spot, your head bobbing against his chest. cedric chuckled lazily as he pulled you towards his bed. you followed groggily, your hands still intertwined with his.
as soon as the covers were pulled back, you fell into bed. he smiled a bit as he laid down next to you. with the flick of his wand, the lights went out and the curtains to the bed closed swiftly.
you were almost dozing off as his chest pressed into yours. his arms wrapped around your frame tightly as he pressed lingering kisses along your face. you giggled dazedly. “tickles..” you murmured as your legs tangled with his. he didn’t respond verbally; the smile on his face beamed as he tilted your chin up. you sleepily gazed into his eyes for a moment before straining to reach up and peck his lips.
he had other plans though.
as you were about to pull away for sleep to overcome you, he chased your lips and hummed against them. your hand trailed up to his hair as you raked through it. “ced-“ you breathed between kisses. he grinned, all lip, as he rested his forehead against yours.
absorbing the moment with everything you had left, you fell asleep.
#jays fics !!#cedric diggory x reader#cedric diggory x you#cedric diggory request#cedric diggory#cedric#cedric diggory fluff#i love cedric#cedric diggory fanfiction#cedric x reader
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a series of desirable events - alicent hightower x targaryen!male!oc
summary: Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, heir to the iron throne, eldest child of king viserys targaryen and late-queen aemma arryn, twin of princess daenerys and elder brother to rhaenyra targaryen, is offered comfort from the daughter of the kings hand.
pairings: alicent hightower x male!targaryen!oc
warnings: none, except for the unfortunate errors in my writing.
I do not allow anyone to repost or translate my work onto any other platforms.
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Ample copper-colored curls bounced as the Lady Alicent Hightower approached her Lord fathers chambers upon his call. She entered to find him faced towards a piece of quill and parchment placed upon his desk. At the sound of the approaching footsteps he turned towards his daughter.
“My lady,” the Maester who had busied himself with the Hand’s letter excused himself.
He greeted his daughter with a hug after having noticed her trembling lips. “My darling.”
“How is Rhaenyra?” He asked as he pulled away to look upon her young face.
“She lost her mother,” she merely reminded.
“The Queen was well-loved by all,” he nodded. “I found myself thinking of your own mother today.”
“How is his grace? And the twins?” She asked after showing some hesitation.
“Very low, all of them. Which is why I sent for you,” he admitted his true motives as he sat upon a placed cushion behind his bureau.
“I thought you might go to him, the Prince, that is, offer him comfort.” He commanded more than he suggested.
“In his chamber?” She asked in a small voice at the prospect of visiting the prince. He was a man grown and there had been talk amongst the court of his visits to the Street of Silk. She began chewing upon her bloodied and ruined cuticles once the idea of a visit to him began to sink in. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“Stop that,” he demanded. She dropped her arms at her sides at his command. “He’ll be glad of a visitor.”
“You might wear one of your mothers dresses,” He once again demanded as he busied himself with a fresh new sheet of parchment.
Alicent merely nodded and walked out her fathers chambers.
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Prince Aegon was in the midst of taking another swing of the goblet containing only the richest of wines, as his uncle Daemon had described it when he had gifted it to him, when a member of the Kingsguard knocked upon his chamber door and made himself known.
“What is it?” He asked with a hint of a slur, slightly twisted but not fully drunk to the point of a headache upon the morrow.
“The Lady Alicent Hightower, my Prince.” He announced as Alicent walked in with a book in her grasp. The kingsguard closed the door behind him as he left the two alone.
“What is it, Alicent?” Aegon asked as he sat lazily upon a cushioned chair facing the open balcony.
“I brought a book,” she managed to get out. She inwardly scolded herself at the shy and nervous nature she was displaying towards the Prince, a man she had known since a young age considering he was only a few years older than her.
“Yes, I can see that,” he amused himself as he nodded his head towards the large book held within her grasp. He twisted his fingers around the rim of the goblet humming to himself.
Alicent had recognized the tune, it had been a lullaby often sung by the Queen to her children as a piece of comfort, and sometimes it was even sung to her. Alicent’s throat closed up and saddened tears brimmed at her eyes at the memory of the woman who had often treated her as her own daughter.
“Yes, I thought I might come to look in on you, my Prince.” She explained with a gulp, hoping he hadn’t noticed her nervousness.
“That’s very kind of you,” he mumbled to a point where she could hardly hear him, whilst twisting around a ring made out of pure valyrian steel. It was known that the Princess Daenerys had an exact replica of the ring amongst her own fingers, a gift for the twins from their uncle upon his return from Volantis a few years ago. “Have you seen my sister?”
She was confused at the sudden mention of his sister and assumed he had meant Rhaenyra due to her close relationship with the younger Princess. “No, I’ve not been to see the princess since nightfall.”
“I meant Daenerys. She keeps to herself most days, keeping herself from even me and Rhaenyra.” He explained with a small hint of frustration and hurt at his twin who had avoided everyone, including him.
“No, my Prince, I’m afraid I’ve not seen her.” She admitted with partial guilt.
She had often witnessed the close bond the Targaryen twins held. They were always together, one never straying far behind the other. Daenerys had hardly been seen by anyone since the death of her mother, hardly leaving her chambers and she knew this hurt Aegon, that his sister, his twin, his closest confidant, hadn’t sought him out during their joint feelings of grief and despair.
She had even overheard talk from kitchen maids and ladies-in-waiting of the Princess’s refusal to eat and inability to sleep as of late and how she had changed significantly in appearance. She was said to quite literally look like a thin and sickly pale ghost, like a walking corpse.
“Shame,” he sighed. He kept his eyes trained on the carpeted floors while an awkward silence over took them.
“I am so sorry, my Prince,” Alicent suddenly breathed out as she looked at with nothing but grief and remorse. He looked at her hesitantly whilst licking his dried lips and shaking his head in confusion.
“What is there for you to be sorry for, Alicent?” He asked in a broken whisper as his shaking hands shook his pale silver-like hair out of his violet colored eyes. She sympathized with how much sadness was held within his seemingly aged eyes, aged through his loss and sadness.
“When my mother died, all I ever wanted was for someone to tell me that they were sorry for what happened to me. So, I am very sorry.” She dishearteningly explained as she graced him a small downcasted smile.
“Thank you, Alicent.” He thanked her sincerely. “And I am also very sorry for what happened to you. I now understand the pain from the loss of a mother and am sorry for your loss.”
With a burst of confidence, she sat on the cushioned bench beside him and grabbed his hand. She smiled at him and received a small appreciative smile in return as they remained sat in silence for what felt like hours.
#alicent hightower#alicent hightower imagine#alicent hightower x reader#alicent hightower x male!oc#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#fic: a series of desirable events
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@reesespiecesofart @hauntedtale-au
Raph finds out because the hidden city police have a connection to the galactic federation. Raph still trying to find out where Donnie came from actually finds out where Donnie came from.
He sees the articles about the mad scientist and that describes the dangerous abomination. How it pretended to be just a dumb animal before breaking out of a high-security transport vehicle and is now on the loose. The federation preparing to send in its creator to capture it since he is the only one who could possibly capture such a cunning and destructive creature.
It even shows a picture of the security footage of his escape. Donnie laughed maniacally as the guard cowered before him, gun in each of his four arms, quills raised up his spine, and mask tails raised like antennas.
A living weapon that was created to destroy, and Raph let it into his house with his younger brothers. Raph remembers all the instances of Leo saying something was off with Donnie and all the things Donnie supposedly did. And Raph didn't believe him. All of his time facing villains and criminals Raph has never known such dread.
Raph practically races home to make sure Mikey and Leo are still… okay. He calls the house several times but no one picks up. Raph goes even faster.
The entire time Raph can't help but think this isn't fair. How could someone make something like this? To knowingly make it look like a kid so people let it into their homes. The fact it was all fake is painful enough. Like he's already lost a member of his family.
When Raph gets home he sneaks in, not wanting to alert Donnie. It's so quiet. Where's the usual sound of his brothers laughing and playing? The fighting as a prank or joke gone too far that he needs to break up? He hears a movie playing in the living room. He peeks in and sees… a turtle pile?
a large pile of pillows and covers on the floor as the movie plays unwatched. Mikey is using Leo's legs as a footrest while his back and arms are flailed out. Leo is lying chest down on a large lump of covers, practically hugging it. Raph is about to panic at the lack of "softshell" when he notices a familiar snout poking out of the covers.
Raph doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry. The whole way here he was worried about Donnie possibly hurting his brothers, and here he is letting Leo practically drool all over him. Leo, who has been suspicious of Donnie since the very beginning, let his guard down enough to fall asleep.
One thing is clear to Raph looking at Donnie right now. He may have been made for destruction, but that's not all he's capable of. Not anymore at least.
Raph looks tiredly at the sleeping Donnie. "It was Mikey that got to you, wasn't it? He has that effect on people." As expected, there was no answer besides quiet snores.
Raph can feel a headache forming. Why do these kids have to make everything so complicated? There's no way he can just capture Donnie and turn him over, but he's not going to let this continue without telling Leo and Mikey. Tomorrow they'll have a family meeting, tell each other everything, and figure things out from there.
But first, Raph is way too exhausted to be awake right now and that turtle pile looks awfully inviting. He flops onto the covers and pillows and drifts off himself.
When Raph first mentions finding where Donnie comes from Donnie doubts he actually found out about him. Meanwhile, Leo and Mikey think he found Donnie's real family, and Donnie's going to have to leave. They're crying and hanging on to an annoyed Donnie while telling him to call them and visit. Raph just trying to get them to listen for a few seconds because guys that's not what he's trying to say.
Mikey gives Donnie an album full of pictures of their time together so he doesn't forget them. The cover is a hand-drawn portrait of their family with Donnie in it. Mikey knows there's no chance of getting Donnie to sit still for a family photo.
Leo's favorite is a picture of Donnie's face scrunched up as he's sprayed in the face with a water bottle like a misbehaving cat.
The constant camera in his face is how Donnie learns to record everything. They find out and try to explain this is different, but Donnie just doesn't get it.
Once Raph gets them calmed down enough to explain Leo is mostly baffled at how Donnie can hide two extra arms "like a morbid jack in the box."
Mikey's just relieved that since he's an alien and doesn't have any family on Earth that means they get to keep him.
Donnie: I suppose my creator could technically be seen as a parental unit.
Leo: Yeah, but we said on Earth.
Donnie: Again, my creator.
Raph remembers reading about the creator being sent to hunt the creation: Oh no.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt#rottmnt au#rise donnie#rise raph#lilo and stitch au
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heyyy basically
i’m feeling absolutely shit rn bc i’ve worked myself into an utter state (god i’m praying i don’t faint after my exam and nullify it) so like what better to do than to come up with a brainrot
just imagine, it’s fragile! reader and they’ve got an upcoming assessment, biggest of the semester but fuck they just can’t study. their headaches are debilitating and constant but they push through anyways because god they need to get that score. they can’t fall behind now. and dottores been watching you all day, he knows he can’t get in your way, you were practically unstoppable; it was one of the things that drew him to you in the first place. but rn? god rn seeing you like this planted a strange feeling in his cold excuse of a heart and he knew he couldn’t just leave you like this. without a word, he saunters over, and gently pries the quill from your hands, you protest but you haven’t the energy for much more really and so you let him. you let him guide you to the bed and you let him lay you down and slip in next to you. he wasn’t a man who thought much of ‘cuddles’ or whatever the hell you called it. yet he wraps his arms around you, gentle yet so firm you’d think a breeze could snatch you away. yet he cradles a hand behind your head and runs his fingers through your tresses, combing out knots, combing out stress. yet he presses you against him and lets the unspoken reassurances flow onto you through the way he pulls you under his sanctity. ‘don’t break yourself’ whispered his fingers as they traced meaningless alchemical symbols on your skin. ‘you’re perfect the way you are, you don’t need to do this’ reassured the proximity between the two of you. the only word that was vocalised between in the quiet sanctuary was your name. there it hung, palpable and present in the air. and nothing more was needed to be said
LOL SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG, can u tell i’m dying for comfort rn 😭
HOPE THAG MAKES IP FOR MY ABSENCE LMAOO
-🌕💗
🌕 ANON?? THAT FIRST SENTENCE IS VERY ALARMING PLEASE REST??? Studying and working are important but you and your wellbeing are more important 💖 Balance is key, please make sure to relax 😔 But the brain rot? *chef kiss*
If you had the energy to, you'd laugh at how poor your situation was. This... mysterious illness of yours just had to appear when finals were right around the corner. If it was just a cold or a slight fever, you could have worked through it, just as you had many times before, but this pain was unlike any you ever had endured. But anyway, surely you could get through this. It was only a few more days, and you absolutely had to do good. Especially since this professor was notorious for his long and complicated exams. Especially because you couldn't bear to think what would happen if you fell behind. What Zandik would think of you.
You could always tell when Zandik was looking at you because anyone really could feel the piercing stare he gave off. You two studied in the same room but in different spaces for maximum concentration and organization. You used to ask him questions and such but you've been far too quiet now for his liking after since you became sick. And while he does admire how perseverant you are to knowledge, he does not enjoy forcing you to go to sleep or watching you barely touch your food while studying. Even he has to acknowledge the limitations of humanity. No human can properly function like this.
The silence he used to crave becomes unsettling, and he shall tolerate it no more. You don't even notice him coming up behind you, thinking he's too focused on his own stuff, so when your pen is plucked from you rather easily you're surprised for a good few seconds. You're opening your mouth to protest but the words don't come out when you see the expression on your lover's face. Zandik gives you a look that you have only seen a few times but understands well - the one where he will have his way, he won't take no for an answer.
So when he pulls you from your desk and lays you on the bed, you can't help but mutter some grumbles as to how you were perfectly fine, and he did this kind of stuff before so why couldn't you do it, which he promptly shuts you up with a flick to the forehead and soft blankets. He doesn't verbalize it but it's because you are clearly tired and sick. You are sick with something he doesn't understand for once in his life and he cannot seem to find any kind of information or research or anything whether it was from hundreds of years ago to a few. And you are pushing yourself through it with no knowledge of the consequences, and no knowledge means no predictability. And then means there is uncertainty which he does not like when it comes to you. For once, he is unsure. Zandik does not enjoy that feeling.
When he initiates the act of cuddling you are surprised but do not question or tease him for once, as comfort was what you desired the most now. Your senses were all hazy from the onslaught of illness and studying and he was being so un-Zandik-like but you lived for moments like these. Your brain had trouble processing his movements but he was doing all the things you enjoyed, fuzziness and heat warming your body. You could make out the lines being drawn on your body, a habit he tended to do unconsciously. The rubbing of your skin in the sore places from studying nonstop. No words needed to be said. Zandik wasn't very adept with flowery words anyway, and you preferred it that way. This meant more than words could convey, and you fell asleep quickly in your beloved's arms.
Zandik looked at you, completely knocked out with not-so-subtle eyebags. Your painfully weak grasp on his shirt. You were far smarter than what a test said anyway. He himself knew that for sure. Maybe that final of yours will be postponed. Better yet, canceled. He'll see what he can do.
Whenever I'm in Sumeru I'm always reminded of how I'd NEVER EVER join the Akademiya because of how hellish it seems, so much work and years to graduate, too much thinking, way too many smart people there who would talk circles around me, uniform, studying, failing, no sleep, and then there are students like Layla barely surviving 😭 I have no talent but sign me up for theater 🙏
Anyway... I appreciate all short and long brain rots, they're so 🥰 I wish I could provide more comfort but... *hugs you* <33
#smooches talks#🌕 anon#fragile reader <3#dottore love notes <3#this was delicious bUT PLEASE DONT OVERWORK YRSELF 😭😭😭#as a student i can relate bUT!!!!#youve clearly worked so hard and youre going to do great 💖#TAKE A BREAK AND REST OTHERWISE...
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For the combination of two prompts:
"headache relief" and "a truly abysmal cup of tea"
Shadowgast, rated G, hurt/comfort, 833 words
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Essek's visits to Caleb's cottage in Rexxentrum were brief, and precious; despite their shared expertise in dunamancy, there never seemed to be enough time. And so when Essek arrived one windy spring morning, but could not concentrate on their shared research, and shied away with a wince from the meager light filtering through the shuttered windows, Caleb felt even more urgency to remedy whatever ailed him. Not just so that Essek would be well, but because these narrow hours were all they had to express the full spectrum of anything and everything they might have to say to each other.
There was Sending, yes, and Essek was talented in layering many things into few words. But Caleb found he yearned to make and share space, and to see the gallery of Essek’s expressions play across his sharp-toothed mouth, his elegant brows, his clever eyes.
This pained, stubborn expression was a new one on his dear friend, and Caleb cataloged it feverishly in his memory even as he sought its antidote.
"It's nothing," Essek demurred, when Caleb pressed. "A slight headache."
"Do you need to rest? You are very welcome to--"
"I did not come here to sleep," Essek cut him off, then shook his head at the suggestive implication, waving it away as if it was a bothersome fly, then winced at both sudden motions. "I am here so we can revise the second runic config-" he broke off with a hiss and rubbed his temple.
"Essek," Caleb half-chided, half-pleaded. "What can I do? I have healing potions. Or do you need Jester?"
"Oh, no — please, no."
In fairness, he was probably right. Despite her capacity for healing, Jester might very well simultaneously increase the headache in some other way, bright and loud and well-intentioned.
Essek reached for a quill and a spare parchment from their research and jotted down a list, and a set of notes, his eyes squinting, his shoulders a scrunched line of weary tension. He offered this to Caleb, ink still wet, letters running rudely together. "If you can procure these herbs and prepare them as written, that would be a great help. This... issue... has a particular root cause, and a particular solution."
Caleb burned two teleportations and ten minutes in the city, and another ten minutes in his small kitchen fussing with hot water and dead plants. While he'd been gone, Essek had curled up in an armchair with his feet tucked childishly under himself and his forehead resting on the upholstered arm, eyes closed, breathing slowly and deliberately, flinching when the metal pot clanged on the stove.
The resulting brew was enough to fill one of his homely porcelain teacups, and dark enough to look like it might leave a stain. The smell was cloying, bitter. Essek looked at it with a combination of relief and revulsion. After cooling the steam off it with a curtly-gestured prestidigitation, he lifted it to his lips — markedly hesitated — then downed the whole thing in a few rapid gulps.
"Water, please." He thrust the cup back at Caleb, his face an open snarl of disgust.
The water, quickly procured, vanished with the same hurry and lack of decorum as the tea. Essek slouched back into the overstuffed armchair like he’d just fought a battle. His expression twitched a few more times, nose wrinkling and lips smacking, aftershocks of the taste of the tea.
"And now?" Caleb pitched his voice low. Essek sighed, eyes closing once more. "I wait for it to kick in. Always slower than I would like."
Caleb said nothing, only waited there, his continued presence itself the question.
One of Essek's eyes cracked open, a sliver of violet picking up the dim light. After regarding Caleb blearily, he extended his arm off the edge of the armchair, palm-up and limp, like it was not attached to him. "Press your thumbs to the heel of my hand, if you like."
A simple task for a clever man. Caleb sat leaned forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees, Essek's hand in his, making gentle pressure points and soothing circles, over and over. Over the next quarter hour, the tension in Essek's shoulders and neck eased, and his breathing slowed, and the wrinkle between his brows ebbed away like a ripple of cloud erased by the wind. At some point Caleb moved his ministrations to Essek's other hand, as gentle as the first. It was quiet in the cottage.
"Stop," Essek finally said. "That's enough."
Caleb stopped. "Better?"
"Yes. A bit." Essek sat up, very disheveled still. He did not untuck his feet. He was a cozy lump on the armchair, like a cat woken from a nap.
"Gut,” Caleb smiled. There was a faint imprint of the upholstery on Essek’s cheekbone. “Now, how would you like a cup of tea that doesn't smell like an alchemical mistake? I have many offerings, courtesy of our friend Caduceus."
"Yes," Essek replied, with a ghost of humor returning. "Please."
#thank you sky for the prompts!#i went with some nice simple comfort vibes#the tea is inspired by the iron supplement I have to take#it's truly godawful and I make faces every time I drink it#tumblr snippets#shadowgast#critical role#op#ariadne writes CR
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