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#none of these are mandrakes
cuties-in-codices · 7 months
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strangely shaped roots
in a book of medicinal plants, bavaria, c. 1520-1530
source: Munich, BSB, Cod.icon. 26, fol. 18v, 15v, 46v and 60v
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lovely-v · 2 months
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I'm watching La Mandragola (1965) (means "the mandrake" in Italian) and there's this really confusing scene where an old guy ties a rope around a plant and then ties it to a dog. and then all of a sudden i was like wait. the mandrake..... JUST LIKE MARCILLE DUNGEONMESHI
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our-lord-satanas · 2 months
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HECATE / HEKATE
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WHO IS SHE?
Hecate is a Goddess of magic and witchcraft, as well as the guardian of boundaries and crossings. She is often depicted as a triple-headed woman, representing her role as a gatekeeper between realms. Hecate is a powerful and mysterious Goddess, and she is often associated with the moon, the night, and the Underworld. She is also known for her connection to the spirits of the dead, and she is revered as a protector of orphans and wayfarers. As the Goddess of magic and witchcraft, she is also an expert in magic, astrology, and other arcane arts.
BASIC INFO:
Appearance: Hecate is traditionally depicted as a tall and powerful woman with a distinctive appearance. She is often portrayed as having three heads, each with different facial features, such as eyes of different colours or expressions. She is also described as having black hair and wearing a dark cloak, which further lends to her mysterious and dark appearance. In some depictions, she was said to carry a torch, a crescent moon, and a key, which is a symbol of her power over the boundaries between life and death.
Personality: Hecate is a complex and multi-faceted deity, representing the trinity of magic, knowledge and wisdom, as well as the boundaries between life and death. Her personality reflects that complexity and is a combination of contradictory traits, embodying both dark and mysterious aspects, as reflected by her position as Goddess of the Underworld, while also being a bright and benevolent figure, representing light and wisdom. She is often depicted as a three-headed woman, symbolizing her association with the crossroads and the triad of magic that she encapsulates.
Symbols: paired torches, keys, crossroads, dark/triple moon, wheel, dagger, rope, dogs, serpents, knives, and strophalos
Goddess of: Witchcraft, necromancy, ghosts, the night, boundaries, and crossroads
Culture: Greek
Plants and trees: asphodel, mugwort, lavender, rue, garlic, yew, cypress, aconite (also called hecateis), belladonna, dittany, mandrake, mint, sage, laurel, and cedar
Crystals: amethyst, obsidian, tiger’s eye, jade, black tourmaline, labradorite, serpentine, moonstone, onyx, and ametrine
Animals: dog, mare, serpent, cat, bats, and polecat
Incense: frankincense, rosemary, myrrh, and patchouli
Colours: black, grey, silver, gold, violet, green, red, and white
Tarot: The High Priestess, The Hermit, The Moon, and Queen of Pentacles
Planets: Mercury, Moon, and Mars
Days: Thursday, Wednesday evenings (new moon celebrations are typically held on Wednesday evenings), Tuesday, the full moon, Samhain (Oct 31st), and the new moon
Parents: Perses and Asteria
Siblings: none known
Partner: Apollo and Mormo
Children: Empusa and Scylla
MISC:
• The triple moon: which represents the phases of the moon and balance between the material and the spiritual, as well as the duality of light and darkness.
• Keys: which represents power and knowledge and can be used to unlock doors and paths to knowledge and power that are hidden or restricted.
• Torches: which represents guidance and illumination in dark times or when clarity is needed.
• Wolves: Hecate is sometimes depicted with three heads, which is one reason she is often associated with wolves. Wolves also symbolize strength, loyalty, and protection and can be a natural source of inspiration for your prayers or rituals.
• Black cats: commonly associated with Hecate, mostly due to her connection to the Underworld. Black cats represent protection and wisdom, and they can be an excellent source of inspiration for your prayers or rituals.
• The triune Goddess: which represents the trio of maiden, mother, and crone and the power of the feminine.
• Crossroads: where people would often seek wisdom from Hecate when they faced difficulties or had questions.
• Magic, occultism, and witchcraft: as Hecate is the Goddess of magic and spells, and she is often invoked during rituals and magickal practices.
FACTS ABOUT HECATE:
• Name: the name Hecate comes from the Greek word "ekatid," which means "the one who has power over the road."
• Relationships: Hecate is associated with the night, the Underworld, the moon, and the spirit world. She is also connected to Demeter and Persephone, both of whom are associated with the fertility of the cycle of life and death.
• Symbols: the symbols of Hecate include a three-headed dog, a key, and a torch.
• Role: Hecate is a mysterious and powerful Goddess associated with sorcery and magic, often depicted as a triple-headed or triple-bodied figure.
• Associations: Hecate is often associated with crossroads, magic, prophecy, mystery, spirits, night, ghosts, and the Underworld, serving as a protector and guide for those who have died. She is also the patron deity of witches and magic-users, and is also associated with the night.
• History: Hecate is a minor deity in Greek mythology, but she has become a prevalent figure in modern times. Hecate's origins are linked to the Greek Underworld and the female deity Selene, and she is also connected to the Roman goddesses Artemis and Diana.
• Role in Witchcraft: Hecate is widely associated with magic and witchcraft, and many witches and Wiccans revere her as a source of power and knowledge. Some witch traditions worship Hecate as a three-way Goddess who represents the past, present, and future.
HOW TO WORSHIP HECATE:
To worship Hecate respectfully, you should approach her with a sense of reverence and respect. She is a powerful Goddess and should be treated as such. You can offer prayers, libations, and offerings to her, and it's important to speak to her in a respectful manner, as you would to any other person of authority. Hecate has a strong connection to magic and the Underworld, so you can also use magic or other rituals to communicate with her. It's important to have an open mind and a respectful attitude when approaching Hecate and seeking her guidance.
HOW TO PRAY TO HECATE:
To begin, you could address her by name and say something along the lines of:
"Oh Great Goddess Hecate, I come to you seeking your guidance and wisdom. I offer myself to you, my heart and my spirit, and I ask for your blessing in this prayer."
"I thank you, great Goddess Hecate, for listening to my words and for your guidance and protection. May you walk by my side always. Hail Hecate.”
CAN I CONTACT HECATE AT A CROSSROAD?
Yes, it is possible to contact Hecate at a crossroads. This is a traditional method of invoking the Goddess that has been used for centuries. To do this, you should prepare a offering (bread, honey, and herbs, or any other items that you feel would be suitable for her) and then go to a crossroads during the witching hour between 12 a.m. and 3 a.m. Place your offering under the crossroads sign and say a prayer to invoke Hecate. Speak with sincerity and humility, and ask for guidance and aid in whatever aspect of your life you feel most in need of support. Remember to listen for signs and messages that Hecate may bring you.
WHAT ARE SIGNS THAT HECATE WANTS ME TO WORK WITH HER?
If your request to work with Hecate has been accepted, you may notice the following signs:
• Feeling drawn toward witchcraft, magic, or spiritual practices
• Seeing her symbols, such as the moon, keys, dogs, etc.
• Feeling a connection to animals, nature, or the Underworld
• Feeling a pull towards the crossroads or areas with a strong sense of the occult
• Having vivid dreams or visions in which she appears or speaks directly to you.
• Seeing or feeling her energies in your environment
• The number 13 keeps popping up everywhere
• You hear dogs howling at night from nowhere
• Hecate’s symbols are repeating: the key, crossroads, torch, dagger, Hecate’s wheel
• You’re drawn to graveyards and cemeteries
• You’ve had a spiritual experience (either positive or terrifying) at a crossroads in the woods
• You’re new to the craft and need guidance but don’t know who to turn to
• Hecate comes into witches’ lives who are pregnant and dying (during major transitions in life)
• You’re seeing a white dog(s) everywhere you go (in real life or on TV, etc.)
• Hecate’s name keeps showing up in your daily life (in random conversations, books, TV shows, online, etc.)
• You love working with animals, in particular dogs
• Stray dogs tend to find you and want you to take them in
• You were born under a Dark Moon or on Hecate Night
• Spirits communicate with you and have your entire life
If your request to work with Hecate has not been accepted, you may notice the following signs:
• Getting a strong impression or intuition that she is not interested in working with you.
• Getting a reading or divination that indicates Hecate is not willing to work with you at this time.
• Feeling a strong resistance or dissonance when you attempt to connect with her or her energies.

Overall you need to be respectful of deities denying your request.
OFFERINGS:
• Fire
• Three-headed candles
• Bones or skulls
• Poetry
• Chanting
• Herbs and flowers
• Food and drinks: such as grapes, almonds, garlic, red meat, water, milk, eggs, fruit, dishes with garlic, sweets that are crescent-shaped, pomegranates, dark chocolate, red wine, bread, and honey
• Painting
• Dancing
• Incense
• Olive oil
• Wands
• Keys
• A cauldron
• Crow feathers
DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR HECATE:
• Respect the boundaries of others and yourself
• Practice self-love and self-compassion
• Take care of yourself physically, mentally, and spiritually
• Cultivate an open mind and open heart
• Follow your instincts and trust in your guidance
• Nurture friendships and relationships that are healthy and beneficial
• Learn to balance pleasure and work
• Live each day with purpose and intention.
• Doings Things in 13’s: offer thirteen flowers to her, give elaborate offerings or do ritual on the thirteenth of each month in her name, say your prayers thirteen times, etc
• Take care of our canine friends, do so in Hecate’s name. She will bless you AND your dogs or any dogs you care for. If you can’t have a dog, donate your time OR old blankets, dog food, etc. to a local animal shelter. And tell Hecate you’re doing it in her name. This doesn’t just go for dogs, but for any kind of canine species.
• Doing spirit work in the cemetery
IS IT SAFE TO EAT OR DRINK AN OFFERING I GIVE TO HER?
An offering given to her is thus infused with the energies of the Underworld and may have a powerful impact on the consumer, if eaten. To avoid any potential discomfort, confusion, or negative effects, it is generally recommended that you avoid consuming offerings dedicated to Hecate and instead pour or bury the edible offerings into the earth.
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patrophthia · 1 year
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love is sour grapes | theo. nott
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pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), unrequited love but not really, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, not beta read.
word count: 5.9K
originally posted on ao3 on: 06/28/2022
"Uhm— would you like to—"
He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.
"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"
One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.
Or Theodore is a quiet piece of shit and that leads to miscommunication and complicated feelings
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Theodore Nott. The one constant thought that has been running through my head way too often for my liking. He was handsome, quiet, smart, lanky in all the right ways and never seemed to be engaged in a conversation —or at least one where he was talking instead of just listening and listening and listening.
Talking to him had always been one of my goals, it shouldn't have, really, it shouldn't. But somehow I had found myself more than just infatuated with him. 
Theodore was an observant person, if he noticed me studying him, he never confronted me about it. 
But, as my friend says it, Theodore Nott is sour grapes. Or, in better words, love is sour grapes. If this even was love that is. 
"I think you should just talk to him," Hermione says kindly. "I still don't think that he would be good for you but if you fancy him that much then go ahead." 
"If you want a death wish that is," Ron snickered. "Honestly, can't you have picked a better guy to fancy? I mean— Nott? Of all people."
"Do you want me to fancy Malfoy instead? Would that make you happy," I quipped, hearing Hermione hide a laugh between closed lips. "Or god forbid, you." 
Ron face contorted to one of offense. "I'm notthatbad." 
"Yeah sure," I murmured, with no malice. And turned to Harry who had been quiet about the situation ever since he found out. "What do you think?" 
Harry shrugged, looking startled. "I don't know," He said first, and then. "I think you need someone better than Nott. You're friendly and thoughtful—" he paused hesitantly. "—and you're quite awfully pretty." 
"Thank you, Harry." My eyes fell downwards with no real intention. I was none of those things. "But I don't think he'd agree." 
"What does it matter if he agrees," Hermione said loudly. "Harry's right. You're all of those things. It's his loss if he doesn't go out with you. You're fit, incredibly so. I would be happy if someone like you were to ever fancy me."
If Ron had a reaction to those words, neither Hermione nor Harry noticed. 
"Well," I said as a group of Slytherin walked into the Potions classroom. Potions would be starting any minute now, and I needed to head into class before Snape does. "I'll keep that in mind. If all fails, I'll just have to marry you, Mione." 
With a final smile, I bid them a quick goodbye and made my way into class. The three of them heading to which ever direction they needed to be. 
The class quickly starts, and Snape wasted no time in assigning me a potion to make. Invigoration Draught. The potion that energizes the drinker. How fun.
The ingredients were mostly easy to obtain. Peppermint, Honeywater, Stewed Mandrake then there's Dried billywig sting: my biggest nightmare.
I was only so tall and the shelves where the ingredients were stored stood so so high. I would've used a stool had it been free to use, but a Slytherin had already been occupying it and it would be rude if I were to take it away from them.
There was a cough behind my back, and then, a hand reached; over me and towards the exact thing I needed. Dried billywig sting: my new biggest enemy.
The person pulled back —jar filled with billywig in hand, and stood still as I turned to them. The jar had a decent amount of billywig in it, if they needed it I could still manage to ask for just enough for my potion. That is if they were kind enough to let me have some.
"Could I—" I paused mid-turn. There stood Theodore Nott in all his glory. Dark eyes, dark hair and facial features that looked like every part of him was chosen by Aphrodite herself, watching me with a raised eyebrow. "—uhm, could I have a few of those? I needed it for my potion but I couldn't reach it."
Theodore blinked once, looking unfazed and handed the jar over.
I blinked twice the time he did, opening up the jar; intending on taking out a few and handing it back over when he stopped me.
"I don't need it."
His voice.
"You don't?" I find myself asking, trying not to breathe too loud or to forget how to even breathe in the first place.
Theodore shook his head once. And reached up for something else. Had he seen me struggle and had gotten it just for me?
"Thank you," I tell him. Theodore nodded once, accepting it as it is. I think you should just talk to him. Goddamn it, Granger. "Uhm— would you like to—"
He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.
"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"
One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.
Whether he was scrutinizing me or not, I didn't know. What I do know is that I was wrong and stupid. And my friends were wrong too.
He needed more than me. I might be friendly and kind and maybe quite awfully pretty. But Theodore needed more than me.
"You know what." I cleared my throat, smiling. "Forget I said anything. Have a good day, Nott."
•••
I had been down lately. My friends noticed that. Even Harry and Ron noticed it and they were as daft as they come. Whenever they asked me what was wrong I find myself telling them that I was just stressed over my O.W.Ls.
Which I was. But it was mostly a lie to cover up something I was more upset about. I had idiotically asked Theodore out and now I have to face the consequences of being rejected.
I think —in some ways— him having not even say 'no' or have given a clearer answer was more upsetting then if he had just said no out loud.
It was stupid of me to get my hopes up and think that anything else would've happened. It was stupid for me to even think I was in his league.
It was also late. I hated walking back to the common rooms in these hours but it was my fault for procrastinating my essay until the night before it was due so I had to rush the entire thing in an hour in the library. I had only hoped that Umbridge wouldn't punish me for being out pass curfew.
I had one more hall left to turn before I reached the Hufflepuff's barrels when someone shouted out my surname, halting me in my place.
Fast pace footsteps approached and then, donning from head to toe in pink was Umbridge. Fuck.
"What do you think you're doing out of your dorm at this time?" She asked quickly, her toad like face twitching with irritation.
"I was in the library and lost track off time," I quickly confessed. "I'm so sorry. My dorm's close by and I—"
"It was my fault professor." His voice. "I’d asked for her help and lost track of time. She was trying to head back before curfew but it seems like her efforts were to no avail. I can only hope you would excuse her and blame me for my faults."
Umbridge looked baffled. He talked? Theodore talked? She made that annoying noise that she can't seemed to get rid off. "Well." her voice laced with false kindness.
"I see no point in deducting any points." She then turned to me. "But I will be expecting to see you tomorrow for separating yourself from help at a time as late as this. Merlin knows, it's dangerous for a girl to wander alone at this time."
"Just me?" I asked, slightly confused.
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "Do you expect Mister Nott here to be punished for wanting to make sure you got back to your dorm safe?"
That wasn’t what he— okay. Fine. Whatever.
"Now, go off," she said with a wave of her hand. "And Theodore, would you be so kind as to walk her back? I don't want to know the troubles she might cause when I let her out my sight."
Theodore nodded, doing as he was told and took a step forward. He looked behind his shoulders, his eyes meeting mine and tilted his head slightly: signaling that we should leave now before it gets worse.
I avoided Umbridge's eyes and stepped forward, trailing after Theodore. Detention. All because I was too lazy to finish my essay any other time I had.
I think I feel my eyes water. I think it feels harder to breathe. I don't know for sure how I feel exactly despite dejected and disappointed with myself.
If I had just made one different choice, I wouldn't have to have detention with the one professor known to physically harm the students. And to top it off, being walked back to my common room by the boy who recently rejected me whilst bottling up my feelings about everything I did wrong.
"You don't have to actually walk me back." I paid no heed to the crack of my voice. Theodore does though. "It's late." I pointed out the obvious. "You should go."
Theodore glanced at me quickly. His look was so quick that I suspected he had planned to only spare me a second of his time. But something about me, something about how vulnerable I must've looked, had him pausing.
"I shouldn't." He said slowly, his tone so attentively that it made me think that he had saw something in me that I never did. "I can't leave you."
"You can." I don't think I can handle being near him any longer, not when he was studying me so cautiously. "It's only a few steps away, I can assure you I'll be fine."
Theodore eyes flickered down the corridor quickly, finally tearing themselves away from me and looked forward, continuing towards the direction of my common room.
When we finally reached where we needed to be. Theodore stood back watching as I tapped the barrels carefully.
I looked over my shoulder once the path opens up. Smiling slightly when I found his eyes on me. "Thank you for taking the blame, Theo. You didn't have to and you did and spared me way too many house points. I really appreciate it."
He made a noise of acknowledgment, taking my word as it is. And then, as he was about to step away. "Goodnight."
•••
I think I hate life. I might be wrong but life sucks. Especially when you have to repeatedly write the same sentence over and over again with a magic quill that tears through your skin.
That can't have been a legal source of punishment but Umbridge made the rules so it was no use fighting her about it.
My hand hurts. Holy fuck, does it hurt. I don't even have to glance down at it for me to see my skin burning red, bleeding slightly. Curved out in the sentence. I will not be out pass curfew. 
"You alright there?" Came a voice. 
I looked up quick and abruptly, sure that I'll get whiplash from my actions; to find George Weasley watching me with interest. I smiled, subconsciously hiding away my hand. "I'm fine." 
"You sure?" He followed up. "You don't look too good."
I nodded, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "I'm fine, just got a paper cut is all." 
He fixes me a look of disbelief but let it slides. "You should go," he said with a small smile. "I think Ron's looking for you? Something about slimey snakes and what not." 
"Oh." The sound slipped out. "Thank you, I'll go find him." 
It was weird to see George without Fred but I decided that I didn't want to know why. They were probably setting up a prank and I had walked right through it. 
Bidding George a goodbye. I continued down the corridor, turned the corridor and found the trio standing by with Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott by their sides. This can't be good. 
Is this what George referred to when he said Ron was looking me about some slimey snakes? 
"There she is," Malfoy said with mild annoyance. "We've been looking for you." 
"You have?" My eyes drifted to Hermione but she only shrugged, looking as clueless as I was. "Why?" 
Malfoy took a steps towards me. "You've been with Professor Umbridge?" 
"Yes." I nodded. "Why?" 
"Did she give you the quill?" 
What was he playing at? Why was he interrogating me? "Yes." I repeated. "Why?" 
Zabini rolled his eyes and step up, seemingly having enough of Malfoy's dramatics. "Here." He handed out a bottle. "It's Murtlap essence. Suppose to help you with the cuts. Nott made it for you." 
"He did?" I asked, taking the bottle of Murtlap essence from Zabini's hand. I turned to look at Theodore, finding his eyes glued to my bleeding hand that was grasping the bottle. Jerking my hand back, I smiled, thanking him. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate and for uhm— thanks again for covering for me last night." 
Everyone —all but Theodore and I— brows raised upwards, surprised. So they didn't know about what had happened last night.
Theodore showed no outwards reaction, having just watch me with a straight face and patient eyes. Then he turned to Zabini and tilted his head slightly. Zabini seemingly understood, slapped a hand over Malfoy's shoulder and with a goodbye, steered the blond boy away. 
"Bloody hell," Ron said exasperatedly. "Did that really happen?" 
"Nott made you Murtlap essence?" Hermione asked more to herself than anyone else. "How did he even know you needed it?" 
"I—" I stopped, glancing at my hand. "—I was out pass curfew and Umbridge caught me. Nott took the blame for it. I think Umbridge was too surprised with hearing him talk to properly acknowledge that he too was out of the dorms pass curfew. She said she won't take away any house points but gave me detention as a punishment." 
"That's all?" Hermione said. "Why would Nott take the fall for it and then proceed to make Murtlap essence for you if there wasn't anything in it for him?" 
"I don't know," I told her, shrugging. "He also walked me back to my common room and wouldn't leave me when I insisted otherwise." 
"Do you think." Ron started. "Maybe that Nott fancies you?" 
"No." I was quick to shake my head in disagreement. "He's doesn't. He's made that clear already." 
"He has?" Harry asked loudly, brows knitted together. 
"Yeah," I murmured. "That day I talked to the three of you. I asked him during class if maybe we could go out on a date sometimes and he didn't say anything. Not a yes. Not a no. Nothing." 
"That's terrible," said Hermione sympathetically. "Honestly, what kind of person rejects someone then proceed to do things as if they cared for them." 
"Hermione," said Harry cautiously, eyes shifting between me and her. "I don't think that does anything to soothe her nerves." 
"Sorry." Hermione blinked in realization. "It's just— you deserve better. I don't understand a thing Nott's doing and I don't want you to get hurt in the process." 
"He could be figuring out his feelings," Ron suggested making Hermione shoot a sharp glare his direction. Ron tsked. "I'm just pointing it out." 
"Well it's not helping." Hermione said in an obvious tone. Her eyes drifted down to my hand, scanning the words then looked back up. "I think you should head back and take care of your hand. You don't want it to scar now, do you?" 
I nodded, waving. "I'll see you at dinner?"
Hermione let out an agreeing hum and went on her way, Ron pestering her from behind. Harry hadn't moved though, looking at me with furrowed brows. "Could I maybe have some of your Murtlap essence?"
"Yeah." I handed it over. "I didn't know you had to endure Umbridge as well."
"Didn't think it was important to mention." He pulled out an empty ink pot from his bag and twisted it open, pouring just enough essence to not overflow it. Harry put the cap back on and handed it back over. "Don't tell Hermione or Ron, will you? I don't want to be a bother." 
" 'course." I smiled. "I won't tell anyone." 
•••
What are the chances that I get caught being out pass curfew twice in the same week. Pretty fucking high because I was once again being called out late at night. 
Two sets of foot steps stops before me and it took me roughly five seconds to realize just how grave the situation was. Draco Malfoy stood tall and smug with Hannah Abott by his side looking tired —if a little irritated by Malfoy's presence. 
"What are you doing out, badger?" Malfoy asked. 
"I was heading back from the kitchens." Malfoy made a face and glanced down at my outfit that looked way too overdressed to be heading down to the kitchens. 
"Are you sure?" 
"Yes." It was clear that I was caught in a lie. Goddamn you, Radiohead concert. "I must've lost track of time." 
Hannah looked like she wanted to say something but bit her tongue. Not wanting any of her words to be counted as it being biased just because I was her dorm mate. 
And then, as I waited to hear Malfoy state just how many points he wanted to take away from my house. He said with annoyance, "you can go." Unfazed to the look of surprise that showed up on both mine and Hannah's faces. "Tell Nott he owes me one." 
•••
I don't think my head could —or will ever fully comprehend "tell Nott he owes me one." I don't know why exactly but that sentence feels way more ominous than it ought to be. 
ott does not owe him anything for letting me go. 
And I don't think I owe Nott anything for helping me be let go? maybe I could've phrased that better. What I meant to say is that: I owe Nott nothing for his friend's behavior towards me. At least I don't think I do. 
But things works in mysterious way. Like how —despite how ironic I find it— Nott always find out a way to help me out during potions. Especially when it came to the ingredients. 
Though that was the least of my concerns right now. My concern, for now, is revolved between the three books in my hand that I can't decide —for the life of me— which one to buy. 
On other occasions I would buy all three and went about my day but I had only brought enough money for one book and food for the rest of the day at Hogsmeade, and my friend didn't seem like they'd be heading back to Hogwarts for extra cash any time soon. 
I looked over my options once more, trying to figure out which one would be the bang of my buck. 
Option one: All Or Nothing, a novel about a girl trying to navigate relationships with the people she surrounded herself with and see whether they would react differently when she gave them her all, and then; how they would react when she gave them nothing. 863 pages. 
Option two: Glimpse Of Us, a novel about a boy who always —and I mean always, sees his ex in the girls he dates after her. 295 pages. 
Option three: Listen boy, a cheesy novel about a girl who had little to no interest when it comes to going on dates with guys but when her roommate compliments her on the socks she wore, she finds herself wanting to do nothing but go on dates with them. 530 pages. 
Both Glimpse Of Us and All Or Nothing seems like sad book. Maybe it's time for me to find some joy in my life —which seems to seize to exist after whatever happened between me Nott happened. As I turned, intending to put those two books back in their respective places. I was more than surprise to find Nott looking at me with a slight fascinated tilt to his head.
“Which is it?”
"Hmm?" I find myself humming. Should I pick All Or Nothing instead? Wouldn't that make me seem more intelligent than a book about a girl being in love with her roommate. 
"Which one have you chose?" He clarified, and I might've imagined it —no I definitely did because, Theodore Nott's lips did not just curve up at all. 
"This one." I lifted up whatever was in my right hand which just happens to be Listen boy. And there goes sounding more intelligent in front of Theodore. "It seems cute." 
"Is that all?" He followed up and it's then that I realize he was wearing a forest green that had no reasons to make him look as good as it did. Green really was his colour. "Nothing more?"
"No." I shook my head. "Ideally I would like two get these two as well," I told him truthfully. "But I only brought enough for one —technically two, if I stretched it out but that would mean no snacks for the rest of the day so it's a no." 
"I'll get it for you then," he says casually. Like it's something you say to someone you recently rejected. Like he was walking around, waiting for someone to tell him that they haven't brought enough cash for the other books they wanted. "Would you like anything else? I am more than willing to indulge you." 
"No, I don't." I stop myself. Yes, I mean. Because I really did want other books, especially if someone else was paying for it but I know that my poor heart cannot handle it. 
It is already breaking apart at how handsome he looked with his forest green jumper and black ironed pants. His hair, a usual dark brown, just the slightest tinge brighter under the sunlight (which is both a sight for sore eye and a rare view since I only ever see him in the dungeons, hunched over a bubbling pot and disgusting lightings) which flatters him in all the best way possible. 
And no, my heart is not picking up a million paces over I am more than willing to indulge you in that very tone of voice, in that very set of clothes, in very set of lighting, by that very Slytherin that I could not seem to get over.
"You don't have to," I insisted, trying to not shiver under his gaze. He narrows his eyes and it says way more than words could ever say. He knows he doesn't, he wants to. Oh lord save me. "Maybe this one? It's cheaper." 
"That was not my question," he said curtly. "I asked you if you'd like anything else, not which option was cheaper."
What are we even talking about now? Was he planning on buying me the three books in my hands and more or was he planning on letting me pay for my choice then pay for the others I couldn't afford. 
Is my face that much of an open book? Because, without even having to say it. Theodore had already answered my questions for me. "I'll buy you the three in your hands and anymore you'd like. I'd buy you the whole store if you wanted me to." 
I think I'm having a heart attack. Or dreaming. Or both. I can't tell. Maybe I'm dreaming while having a heart attack? Who knows. All I know is that Theodore Nott did not just say that. Did he? 
"No." I shake my head quickly, maybe even too quickly. "No, I— these three are more than enough. I promise to pay you back when we get back to school."
Theodore fixes me a look. One ridiculing me to the point that I wished —more than anything— that I was a bludger being hit so hard I pass through the most oblivious of oblivions. I'm so sure that that would be less stressful. 
"I mean it!" I press all three books to my side. "I promise, and I always keep my promise. I won't take advantage of your money, I will get it and find you as soon as I—"
I didn't see the point in finishing my words because he was smiling. And laughing. I think. It's a mixture of those two and it's so heavenly that I believe in everything ethereal alike. 
Theodore noticed my silence, the side of his lips curved the slightest bit (so so small and tiny that you couldn't even spot it), looking at me with clearly amused eyes. And then, "did you not hear me?" 
"What?" The words slipped out easily. 
"I told you I'd buy you the whole store if you'd like and you think I'd want my money back?" He said slowly. "I couldn't care less about the money. I just wanted to make you happy. Salazar knows, I've made you upset more often than I could count between my fingers." 
Now what the fuck was he on about. He has never made me upset —save for rejecting me that one time,  but I understood it, he didn't like me, that's that. I have gotten over. I think. But I'm more than sure that I could count that one event between his ten fingers.
Unless Theodore only had one finger? Does he? I cast a glance down to his hands and there are those ten fingers. Ten exactly. Not one short or one more. Ten and a couple of silver bands that made me want to do nothing but sit and stare at his long, pale, slim fingers. And how they would feel around my— nope, nope. Absolute not. 
"Merlin, we leave Nott alone and he goes around trying to find his girlfriend." Girlfriend? 
When the owner of the voice, Zabini, finally arrives before me and Theodore, I was no where near surprised to see the other Slytherins in their group by his side. 
Parkinson. Malfoy. And finally, Greengrass —whom I was actually friends with. 
"Well?" Zabini muttered, eyes shifting between me and Theodore, and then landing on him solely. "Are the pair of you planning on standing here the whole day?" 
"No," I said with narrowed eyes. "I don't know what he's doing here, I'm just trying to buy a book." 
Zabini raised a brow. "Is that all, princess?" 
"Pretty much." This feels like a trap. Is this a trap? "Are you planning on going somewhere with Theo?" 
"Theo," Zabini tsked with a smirk. "I've never once called him that and I've known him for about five year now. How cute is that." 
Yep. This is definitely a trap. I think I'm going to die now. 
Theodore, with a roll of his eyes, made his way to my side and pried at the books pressed to my waist. Confused, and a little daze at the warmth of his fingers grazing my hip, I let go of the three books and watched him with wide eyes. 
He seemed (and looked) unaffected by how everyone eyes were now on him. Walking around and picking another set of the exact books I'd picked out. Theodore paid for them without a word, asking for separate bags and handed a set over to me. 
And then, quietly he says. "Zabini's an idiot." He smiled a winsome one and I am so sure I'm dying and this —whatever this was— is just a figment of my imagination that my brain curated during my dying breath. "I like it. Don't ever stop calling me Theo." 
•••
Blaise Zabini is trying to be matchmaker. I'm sure of it. Or else he wouldn't be bothering me as much as he did now. I can't seem to peacefully spend time in the library without being interrupted by him. 
"Hello," he greeted, smiling as he sat opposing me. I raised an eyebrow and he was able to read me quick enough, telling me the reason he was here. "Just wanted to let you know that Nott finished those three novels he bought and he's looking for someone to talk it over with a cup of tea —or coffee, whichever one you prefer." 
Is he implying what I think he's implying? "Why is that any of my concerns." 
"I thought you might be interested." He shrugged. "Since you know, you fancy Nott and all." 
"I don't fancy Nott." I told him. An obvious lie, and Zabini knew that too. "And he doesn't fancy me so it's just a waste of time." 
"Nott doesn't fancy you?" He's laughing. He's actually laughing. What was so funny about the truth? "What makes you think that?" 
"He literally turns me down I when I asked him out," I said blankly. "It's pretty clear, isn't it?" 
"And what exactly did he say?" Zabini asked playfully, as if he was humoring me. 
"Nothing," I answered. "He just looked at me and said nothing, I don't think I need anything else to tell me that it's an obvious no." 
"Nothing?" Zabini repeated with a grin. "Have you heard of being speechless? Or better yet, you know Nott doesn't really speak right?" 
"That doesn't excuse him saying nothing when I asked him to go on a date," I countered.
"It doesn't," Zabini concurred. "But Nott's an idiot." Funny, Theodore said the exact same thing about Blaise. "Did you know Nott did Malfoy's work for a week without complain just because he let you go that one time you snuck out?" 
No. I don't say. Malfoy did say Nott owe him one but I hadn't thought it important. "What does that have anything to do with what you were talking about?" 
"Because," he says exaggeratedly. "Nott fancies you back. I suspected that he liked you since third year though he won't admit it. He won't even admit that he fancies you now but he's incredibly easy to read." 
I shut my book and looked at him. Really looked at him. Trying to gauge whether he was messing with me or telling the truth. "What am I supposed to do with this information?" 
"Ask him out again," he suggested lightly. "Give him another chance for being the biggest twat there is."
"And have him reject me again?"
"He won't," Zabini says calmly. "He'd burn the entire school down before even thinking of rejecting you." 
I hesitate. "I don't want to embarrass myself again."
"You won't," he says with a roll his eyes. "Look I know being rejected is hard, I think I get it. I've never been rejected before. But I also know that the both of you like each other just as much and it's getting tiring seeing you beat around the bush." 
"Nott won't make the first move. He thinks you hate him now for not answering when you ask so you'd have to ask again —if you still want to be with him that is. Do you? Or else I've been doing all this for nothing." 
Yes. I think. I'm pretty sure that I want to be with him. "Do you know where he is?" 
"Oh," Zabini said delightedly. "He's actually coming here right now. I told him I was coming to find you but never gave him a reason why. He'd be here any —speaking of the devil. Hello, Theo."
Theodore doesn't bother to return his greeting. Eyes heavily set on Zabini in a glare that had me shivering just from the side lines. Then his eyes turn to me and his glare on hardens. 
"Hi, Theo." I don't think I've ever since Theodore like this before. "What are you doing here?" 
"What did he do?" He asked instead. 
"Nothing," I said quickly. "He did nothing. We just talked." 
"About?" 
"Stuff."
"Stuff?" 
"Yes. Stuff." 
"What kind of stuff?" 
"Oh you know," I huffed. "The weather. Coffee. You." 
"Me?" 
"Yes." My lips fold itself into a thin line. "Actually Theo. Could I ask you something?" 
His gaze softens when he nods.I am more than willing to indulge you.I am so sure now, more than ever, that love really is sour grapes. 
"Uhm— would you like to—"
His eyes widened, large as saucers as he processed in my words.
"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?" 
One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing. And I am briefly reminded of everything that happened. 
And then, "yes," he says. "Yes, I would." 
•••
Theodore really did read those books he bought me. This I knew now as I sat under the sun on one of Hogsmeade many benches with Theo to my left. 
This part of Hogsmeade was quiet, it wasn't too far from the shops but far enough for no one to frequent by. A few people passed by trying to move from destination to destination but none noticed the bench wedge into the middle of the place where two fifth years were sat, talking about everything and anything under the moon and stars. 
"So you liked it? You liked 'Listen, boy'?"
"I did." He was smiling and I wished more than anything that I'd had a camera to capture every smile he had given me during the pass hours. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes," I laugh and his smile widens. "It just doesn't seem like you. It's a cheesy and corny book and you're always so dark and broody about everything." 
"I'm not dark and broody about everything," he denied. 
"You are!" I countered. "You were even dark and broody when I'd first asked you out."
"That's 'cause I didn't know what to say," he says truthfully. "You could've said yes, that would've made it easy for the both of us," I told him. "I really couldn't. You don't deserve just a yes. You deserved everything, not something so simple." 
"But that yes would've made my week, Theo." 
Theo looked like he was about to say something before he changed his mind. "I'm sorry I didn't say yes when you'd first asked me. Could you ever forgive me?" 
I want to kiss him until his lips, his skin, his hands, his scent, every tiny bit of him is imprinted in my mind. "Yes." I say. "Yes, I think I could." 
Theodore chuckled, his nose crinkling at the motion and something between that laugh and smile of his causes me to lose it. 
My hand reached forward first, palm pressing against his cheek, pulling him closer to me and pressed my lips onto his. I kissed him once then as I reached to pull away; I find that both of his hands had found their way to my cheeks, holding me still as he kissed me back. 
Theodore pulled back, the tiniest of smile on his lips that had the smallest smudge of my lipstick attached to it. And he tells me, as if he had been thinking of this for days, years, lifetimes. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen." 
And when I smiled, Theo leans back in. Peppering quick kisses on my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, anywhere I would let him kiss me; he will cherish it. 
Once Theo finally pulls back —and this was for real this time, no more quick kisses. He looks at me and I know deep down that he will be the death of me when he says. "You are going to be the death of me."
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— from bee: the thing about theo is that we know nothing about him so you can’t say that this is ooc :>
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cloudcountry · 1 year
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the ultimate neige smackdown
SUMMARY: So it follows the storyline of book four, only when the reader sees Neige's commercial for the first time, they say the first thing that comes to mind about him...and it's that Vil is obviously the best of the two.
CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: this request is so funny because neige weirded me out when i first played. its like what jamil & azul said, nobody is THAT NICE??? HES SO CONFUSING but anyway mon pote means my close friend I looked it up on Google (I was too lazy to ask my friend who studies French about pet names again.) This is just you inflating Vil's ego (WHICH HE DESERVES!! TELL HIM HES BEAUTIFUL.)
~~~~~
“Do you see that radiance, mon pote?”
Vil stopped outside the door as your uninterested hum sounded from inside the room. The mandrakes in his hand wouldn’t have waited for Rook, but knowing you were inside that room made him want to enter.
Before he could, you spoke again.
“I mean, he’s okay I guess.”
“What do you mean?! He is picturesque! The perfect example of delicate beauty!” Rook cried out, causing you to sigh.
“Vil is more beautiful in my opinion. This Neige guy kinda creeps me out. I mean, doesn’t his beauty seem…fake? I know he’s a celebrity so a part of him is going to be artificial, but Vil is so blunt and truthful with his admirers. Neige is just…too sweet. It’s weird.”
Vil felt a light fluttering in his chest at your admission. Right, of course it wasn’t just him that thought Neige was…creepy, as you put it. But still.
You thought he was more beautiful than Neige.
“Oh, mon pote…” Rook sighed, and Vil could tell he was shaking his head dramatically, “I suppose we all have our own ideas of beauty.”
“Rook, you cannot sit here and tell me Vil isn’t more beautiful than Neige. I will fight you on this.” you huffed, “I mean, come on! Vil is so confident, and he expects the best out of everyone, and he pushes himself and the people around him to do better and better! Neige is just a pretty face as far as I’m concerned. Vil holds himself with sophistication that sends chills down my spine. That’s beautiful.”
“Oui, I do not disagree, but you must admit that Rui de Neige has his own charms as well!”
“Mmm…I don’t see the appeal. Sorry.”
Vil chuckled. You didn’t sound sorry at all.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear.” he deadpanned, finally opening the door and stepping into the room. 
Rook had the gall to smile shamelessly up at him, rattling off some speech about his entrance. However, all Vil could focus on was the slightly embarrassed expression you had on your face, and the fact that his beauty was enough for you.
Deep down, he knew the jealousy he felt towards Neige was only temporarily satisfied, but he had to be content with that for now.
“Vil.” you blurted, as if forcing yourself to speak, “Uh, hey.”
He laughed airly, tucking two fingers under your chin and tilting it up.
“Hello yourself.” he smirked.
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dailyadventureprompts · 2 months
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Villain: Jysh'parun, Outergod of Unwelcoming Earth
As distant and ancient as a mountain, as scornful as an axebitten tree
Many philosophies debate and negotiate the relation of mortals to their environment. Some see nature as a thing to be tamed in the name of survival, domesticated, exploited. Others proffer a more symbiotic path, a holistic system to be protected and stewarded.
Beyond these there are the ravings of those claimed by Jysh'parun, who claim that mortals have no right to exist at all, and survive merely by the beneficence of the trees and stones. While all but the most foolish agree that heed must be paid to nature, none but those under the unwelcoming earths dominion would think that there is some geological-feudal hierarchy to which we must all submit.
This then is the paradox of the Unbowing Mountain: a god that claims the worship of things that do not traditionally think, but views nature through a distinctly mortal lens of domination and hierarchy. It's an absurdity bordering on being a joke, atleast until Jysh'parun's influence washes over the land and the forest marches off to war while the rivers start demanding tribute.
Adventure Hooks:
Having come into possession of a disused tract of land, a young farming couple were picking the stones from their new field in preparation for planting when they came across the petrified remains of some indescribable horror. Resembling nothing so much as a horse sized mandrake-root with teeth, they've reached out to neighbours, the sheriff, even the local wizard looking for advice about what to do... only to wake up one morning and find the thing gone. Theft or reanimation are both equally alarming possibilities, and the whole region has been on edge since.
Having been thought dead for years after being lost in a winter storm, a dwarven cartographer descends from the mountains claiming to be their mouthpiece and demanding sacrifices in their name. Her words at first go unheeded, at least until the glacial rivers begin to run with noxious acid, transforming back only when something living is thrown in. Farms and villages are drying out and grisly offerings of livestock now fail to meet her standards she claims the mountains will only be satisfied when the people of the realm throw their rulers in and swear fealty to the peaks on high.
The king's palace is in chaos after a coup took place in the royal gardens, specifically when the great tree that shaded his majesty's favourite thinking bench stabbed him in the back with one of it's branches and then skampered off to replant itself on the throne with the crown in tow. Before Anyone knew what was happening, greenery had overtaken the palace locking most outside while trapping certain vital hostages inside.
Inspirations: Something that's all too often lost in the "madness and tentacles" misinterpretation of eldritch horror is that much of the genre is spun off from the particular phobias of HP lovecraft. When we use the iconography without understanding the anxieties behind it, we risk creating a shallow B movie version of the horror we want our audience to feel.
To write good horror then, we need to draw off fears we understand, and with Jysh'parun I wanted to tap into climate anxiety in a way I don't think I've seen before. We've all resigned ourselves to the fact that climate change is happening, with the understanding that its being driven by the bullheaded egos and greed of people who are so powerful their perspective on life bears no resemblance to anything we could possibly conceive of. Translate their willingness to let us suffer for the sake of profit into a psudo historical fantasy context and you get the Unwelcoming Earth: widening sinkholes that demand tolls from passersby while an approaching tsunami proclaims the divine right of kings. It's not only absurd it's fundamentally idiotic but that it doesn't mean it won't destroy you and everyone you know.
Worshippers: Delusional druids and geomancers. Goliaths and dwarvenkind who get too into being "children of the mountain". Sentient trees, Living crystals, and other elemental entities who seek to put themselves "above" other forms of life. Corrupted primoridals.
Signs: Aberrations that resemble roots or stone spontaneously emerging from nature, acid flowing from normally clear running springs, statues of lordly alien figures carved from erosion, not tools. Proclimations in an unknowable script engraved deep under the earth or on monumental scale.
Symbols: A glyph resembling a mountain range or branches of a tree in the shape of a crown.
Titles: The Unbowing Mountain, The Insuperable, King of all Corners,
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legacygirlingreen · 5 months
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The Nose Knows // Sebastian Sallow x MC
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This was a collaboration with @darch7995 ! I had so much fun writing this. It’s your classic amortentia story with a twist!
Warnings: some angst but ends good!
Word count: 4k
Here is a link to her audio: part 1 , part 2
She hadn’t intended to be so late for class, but when Professor Garlic had asked for additional help repotting mandrakes she could hardly say no, as the witch had always been polite as could be. The only issue was she had lost track of time. Barreling through the door to the potions classroom, she cringed as she saw the faces of all her fellow peers turning towards her hasty entrance and the face of Aesop Sharp turn sour at her late arrival.
“How nice of you to join us MC. Perhaps a worthy investment would be a watch as you seem incapable of keeping the time. Detention-“ he started and she begged him.
“Please professor I was helping Professor Garlic and we lost track of time-“ she pleaded and he looked at her, still unsure.
“And if I address this with Professor Garlic she will confirm this as well?” He asked her and she nodded.
“Of course Sir.”
“Fine. But come to the front of the class, identify our lesson today since you are avoiding detention on the grounds you were late.” He told her and she panicked.
Carefully setting down her things and whipping her dirt soaked hands on her skirt she started towards the front of the room. She caught the eyes of some of her classmates. Garreth gave her a reassuring grin and Imelda smirked, always competitive with her. Poppy gave her an apprehensive look, to which she would ponder later and when she finally noticed Sebastian, leaning in with curiosity she decided to give identification of the mystery potion a shot ignoring the looks she received.
Professor Sharp handed her a potion bottle, completely blacked out, not revealing the color of the potion. Color was usually the easier identifier of any potion so she’d had to get creative. Uncorking the bottle she attempted to catch a whiff of any particular ingredients used.
Letting the smells fill her senses she became utterly confused, her face twisting as her eyebrows drew and she once again took a whiff of the potion for confirmation at the overwhelming but unique liquid.
“What the-“ she asked confused as people in the class giggled.
“Relying on all of one’s senses for potion identification is integral, especially with the more volatile and dangerous concoctions. When items have been laced with potions or poisons you will not be able to use color as an identifiable agent, so would you be so kind to elaborate to the class what the potion smells of and perhaps your classmates might be able to help you identify this particular brew” Professor Sharp offered and she once again took a whiff, finally being able to separate the multiple smells to which she encountered.
“That’s the thing professor - none of the things I smell are reminiscent of any potion ingredients I am aware of…” she tried to reason and the man continued.
“Then what do you smell?” He asked her, feigning intrigue while knowing full well what he was asking her to reveal. A small amount of embarrassment often went far in discouraging students from being late to class.
She looked up as some of her classmates gave her an awkward glance and she noticed Natsi’s eyes grow with a small shake of her head telling her not to reveal what it was. Confused, she raised an eyebrow as the professor responded.
“We don’t have all day, perhaps another one of your classmates is more capable...”
“I smell… parchment, like the dusty old books that students have long forgotten in the library. I also smell fire… not any ordinary fire, but the strong Smoky smell you’d attribute to spells like incendio or confringo… and lastly I smell-“ she trailed off realizing exactly what fragrance she had identified, yet she realized it had come from across the table and not the liquid.
It was a fragrance so holistically masculine in nature. She immediately recognized the cedar wood and bergamot undertones, that blended with whatever spices warmed her cheeks whenever she was privy enough to catch a whiff lingering on his skin. Any time they studied together in the undercroft she was easily lightheaded when he’d lean over to see something in her notes and she could indulge in the fragrance he kept from an area she believed was under his ears but she couldn’t be quite sure.
She was reminded of the one time he’d lent her his scarf and she couldn’t stop smelling the green fabric as his cologne had lingered to the knit so intoxicatingly. She could recall the first time she’d ever realized that he’d taken to wearing it - some time at the start of 6th year, he’d approached her and something about the way his warm body, now accentuated by the fragrance warmed her cheeks to the point that he worried she had the chill, led to the back of his hand stroking her cheeks with worry. She assured him everything was okay, but he never quite let it go.
But perhaps she could just smell the fragrance directly, not in the potion, given he was so close to the table. He was directly across from her, staring intently at what she was holding. Without realizing her critical error she calmly told the professor.
“I smell Sebastian’s cologne, but that’s mostly since he’s standing so close to the table and likely went a little heavy handed again with it” she joked and when no one responded for a second she grew confused. Immediately Imelda called out from the back row with a loud laugh.
“Oh this is rich. Our resident troll slayer is in love with Sallow”
Looking down she immediately realized her fatal error, once again wafting the potion and realizing that the smell had in fact come from the bottle, not across the table like she’d thought.
Immediately she felt sick to her stomach, realizing that professor sharp likely had thrown a love potion she was unfamiliar with into her hands as she corked the bottle and handed it back to him.
“I - I don’t know what this is sir… I apologize for being late” she said, voice faltering as she felt a small bit of moisture pooling in the corner of her eye as she looked down to avoid the stares she felt. The room was still whispering and chuckling at her mistake and she refused to meet their eyes.
“Would anyone else like to inform our late classmate what potion she has neglected to identify?” He asked, completely uncaring of her embarrassment as she quickly worked around the table, finding Poppy by identifying her muddy shoes and slightly frayed gray and yellow plaid skirt. Still refusing to look up she heard Amit confirm her fears as he awkwardly explained.
“Amortentia. The love potions. Often identifiable by its fragrance or pearlescent appearance.” He said, hoping to leave it at that but Professor Sharp seemingly had it in for her today as he pressed the ravenclaw for more information.
“And what of it’s fragrance Mr Takar? Explain your classmates' findings?” He asked
“Well um… it smells different to every person based on what or who is attractive to them… MC smelt books, fire and… cologne… since that is what she is attracted to, " Amit said and she didn’t have to look up to know the boy was grimacing while explaining the results to the class.
She felt a hand on hers as Poppy leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’m so sorry MC… I can talk to Professor Garlic since she’s the head of my house if you’d like… explain the situation since you were only late to help her "Poppy offered quickly and she shook her head, looking up at the hufflepuff just as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.
“The damage is already done, Poppy. Let’s just focus on the lesson.” She said, brushing the tear off before it fell too far, turning back to the front and putting on the best brave face she could muster, hoping her tone would be enough to sully her friends worry over what had happened.
At the conclusion of the lesson, she bolted as fast as she could from the classroom, ignoring the many concerned people calling after her and pressing on faster as she heard continued laughter from Imelda Reyes and Samantha Dale.
Quickly turning the corner she bolted through the library annex, rushing off towards the greenhouses and taking a sharp left. She could hear someone following her and she would recognize those footsteps anywhere.
“MC wait!” Sebastian called out behind her.
Panicking she saw the familiar owl statue and in a hasty decision she dove for it, turning the wall as she slipped behind the secret alcove just in time. Resting carefully on the other side in relief she heard the footsteps falter just outside in the hallway.
“Sebastian, slow down” Ominis said as she held her breath hoping Sebastian hadn’t seen the wall shifting but his frustrated sigh let her know he had not a clue where she slipped away too.
“She’s gone.” Sebastian said and she could tell by his tone he was concerned.
“I’m sure that she will be alright… she’s just embarrassed… give her some time to collect herself” Ominis explained and something about the phrasing easily agitated Sebastian
“Oh yes because being associated with me is embarassing Ominis, wonderful vote of confidence” Sebastian responded.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I hardly think she’s embarrassed of you, just embarrassed at how that information, the kind of things people like to remain personal, was just ousted to the classroom like that.” Ominis tried to be the calm and level head they needed, to which she was grateful. As she sunk to the floor she decided to continue to listen.
“Stupid, foul, git Professor Sharp. I always hated that man you know” Sebastian said and Ominis chuckled.
“I’m not sure you should be cursing the man when he accidentally revealed the information you’ve been dying to know for such a long time” Ominis explained.
Information Sebastian wanted to know?
“Not like that. Did you see the way she absolutely crumbled after she realized her mistake?” Sebastian asked
“Shockingly enough Sebastian I can’t say I did see the ordeal” Ominis responded with a chuckle, referring to his inability to see in an attempt to alleviate some of the stress.
“I’m fairly certain I saw her crying next to Poppy in the corner Ominis… wait perhaps Poppy knows where she ran off too, let’s go see if she knows anything” Sebastian explained and she could hear his footsteps moving away from the alcove.
“Sebastian, it may just be best to let her come to you when she’s ready…” Ominis said and that was the last thing she heard before their voices got too far from the door for her to hear.
————————————————
Luckily the ordeal had occurred during her last class on friday, giving her the entire week to hide from everyone. Using the time to explore the highlands, and the frustration to crush another one of Imelda’s flying records - or perhaps that was more out of spite for the slytherin girl’s less than tactful response in class - she spent very little time at the castle. Only slinking back in right before curfew and refusing to speak to any of her dorm mates.
When Monday morning reared it’s ugly head, she slunk down to the kitchens, avoiding the great hall entirely and finding Feenky the house elf who was kind enough to slip her some breakfast before she waited until the absolute last second before strolling into the back of class. Quickly slipping out at the conclusion of each lesson, ignoring those speaking to her, she wandered the school like a ghost.
She had maintained that the whole week and Friday eventually rolled around, having been a full week since everything had occurred.
In every class she could feel him staring but she refused to look in his direction. She just wasn’t ready to face him yet or hear his rejection. She knew that despite how embarrassed she was, he likely felt worse knowing he shared common rooms with Imelda and she could hear their classmates frequently teasing him about it, along with his threat of “knock it off”.
Eventually she came to realize that at some point she would need to face the boy again and that continuing to prolong this endeavor would only make it worse, yet she worried over how to acknowledge what had happened. Could she pretend it never occurred? Would he want an explanation? Would his rejection be kind? And what had Ominis meant by the words he’d spoken in the hall?
Sighing, she stood from her desk at the conclusion of Professor Hecat’s class, traversing the length of the room and seeing Sebastian with his back turned to her, in some form of a heated argument between himself and Imelda.
Summoning some of that gryffindor bravery Natty was so well known for, she tapped him on the shoulder, cowering beneath his tall frame as he turned around to face her. Surprised to see her he let out a gasp as she avoided his eyes.
“MC…” he said
“Might we have a word” she said glancing down below them before finally meeting his eye after signaling the undercroft below their feet. “In private,” she added.
“Of course” he told her, immediately abandoning the heated discussion between himself and his housemates. She watched as Ominis scolded Imelda before reaching for Sebastian’s discarded things as she left with Sebastian in tow.
Once outside the classroom she could feel all eyes on them in the hallway and tried her best to put on a brave face and ignore it. Attempting to lighten the situation she said, “wow I feel like I’ve had more attention and eyes on me in the last few days than I did after the battle under the school” and he chuckled.
“Leave it to teenagers to be more interested in crushes than mortal danger or goblin rebellions. The way even you fall asleep in Professor Binns’s class should tell you people care more about the personal lives of their peers than the historic moments” he countered and she knew he was right.
“I suppose you’re right.” She said as they rounded the bottom of the stairs and made sure no one was watching before slipping into the underCroft in silence.
“I just-“
“About what-“
They both started at the same time and both paused.
“You first” he insisted and she shook her head.
“I believe I’ve spoken enough, you should say what you were going to” she argued and he silently nodded.
“I’m sorry about what happened in class. It was really foul what Professor Sharp did. He didn’t need to embarrass you like that… I’m sure it wasn’t fun having your um… feelings exposed like that when you were only trying to make a joke…” he said gently, trying to convey he truly felt for her. After he found Poppy, the Hufflepuff and Ominis were able to convince him, against his very obsessive and compulsive nature, to allow her some time to settle her emotions. As difficult as it had been for him all weekend not seeing her and worried about how upset she might be, he did his best to avoid everywhere she often went - the undercroft, hogsmeade, the library and the astronomy tower - just out of respect for her hurt feelings.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you either” she said with a sigh
“Why would I be embarrassed?” He asked her confused
“Because I - you were there.” She didn’t want to have to voice it again.
“I know. But why would what happen embarrass me? If anything a small part of me is thankful that I know I just…” he trailed off and she waited for the rejection to come.
She sucked in a breath as she closed her eyes waiting for him to just rip the bandage off. She could take it. And she mentally had prepared for it in the whole week she’d spend avoiding him.
Instead she felt him grab her hand gently, his own shaking slightly as she opened her eyes in confusion. In his other hand she saw a small vile.
“I uh, didn’t think it was fair that you were the only one who had to explain what amortentia smells like to you…” he said holding up the pink shimmering potion.
“So you brewed more of that vulgar concoction that caused this whole mess?” She asked teasingly despite the lump in her throat.
“Can you give that a whiff?” He asked her gently, passing it off and she sighed and nodded, uncorking it and having the familiar smell of fire, books and cologne overtake her senses once more.
“Smells like amortentia. 10 points to slytherin.” She confirmed with an awkward laugh as she handed him back the vial.
“Perfect.” He said with a small grin, taking it back from her before removing the topper and taking a whiff of it himself.
“Mallowsweet” he told her.
“What?”
He gestured to the small pocket on her belt that he knew always contained the small herb, it’s unique fragrance always clinging to her and apparent when she stood close by.
“Mallowsweet. You always have some on you, in that pouch for those Merlin trials you showed me during our fifth year.”
“What about it?” She asked confused and he lifted the amortentia vial again, taking a whiff as his eyes fluttered shut and he replied with a spell bound tone.
“I smell it in amortentia”
She gasped realizing he was explaining what the potion smelled like to him.
“Sebastian you don’t have to-“
“Heathers. Like the ones growing in your vivarium where you keep the Phoenix. You smell like them and I know they are your favorite flower. I know to most they are just weeds but you always pick them to put in your books or pockets and it’s just so endearing to see how much you adore something that to everyone else is worthless but you think they are pretty. I love laying in the grass with you and getting to read outside even when it’s the winter because it’s always warm in the room of requirement and you look so pretty just laying amongst the Heather with a book in hand.”
She didn’t reply as he went on. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist and lifting it to his face, placing the delicate ball of his nose against the inside of wrist and inhaling with a sigh.
“And that perfume you bought in Hogsmeade with Poppy during our 6th year. Merlin I remember when you borrowed my scarf, and the day I got it back I couldn’t help but smell your perfume lingering on it for weeks. Any time you adjust your hair or you lean in to whisper something in class I just can’t help but notice it”
“Sebastian…” she whispered as he let go of her wrist and opened his eyes.
“All I smell in amortentia is you.” He confirmed and she looked at him as her eyes softened.
“You do read a lot in front of fireplaces” she told him with a quiet sigh.
“I also forgot to put on my cologne that morning,” he admitted as she gasp.
“What?”
“I was running late and I forgot to put it on that morning. I wasn’t even wearing it the day we had potions. In fact right when you burst in the door Ominis was telling me how much I needed to bathe since I got sweaty at crossed wands and the lack of cologne didn’t help.” Sebastian admitted to her with a chuckle.
“I - well that’s something… she faltered, realizing he truly did have confirmation the whole time she had feelings for him.
“Let me take you to hogsmeade sometime. A proper date?” He offered.
“You don’t have to do that. Proper first dates are for people who don’t really know one another… I feel we already know so much about each other…” she said softly as he nodded, tracing the side of his finger down her arm before he reached her hand where he laced their fingers together.
“Fair enough, but I wouldn’t feel right just kissing you without at the very least being a gentleman first”
“Sebastian Sallow, you want to kiss me?” She teased him as she chuckled
“I think asking you out on a proper date, which you seem to have rejected might I add, as well as admitting to smelling you in the most powerful love potion known to wizard kind would confirm that yes I do indeed want to kiss you” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, however his reddened cheeks gave away his nervousness.
Leaning up on her tiptoes and she gently pressed a kiss to the side of his cheek before pulling away, smiling at his nervous and shocked expression.
“Fine. You’ve convinced me we can go on to hogsmeade on a date. Then you can kiss me” she teased.
“Wait no, I take it back, come on I think we know each other well enough for a little kissing, don’t you” he asked desperately trying to pull her back against him as she ducked under his arm with a laugh.
“No you’re right Sebastian… it just wouldn’t be proper for you to kiss me without being a gentleman first “ she quoted him running off behind one of the large posts in the undercroft before casting disillusionment.
“Not fair MC” he groaned as she snickered, sneaking up behind him. Right when she thought she had him he turned around, grabbing her and in the panic the spell was dropped.
“No more hiding from me MC. This last week has been torture” he admitted and she smiled
“But it’s so fun” she replied and he rolled his eyes at her, holding her closer to him.
“Hmm I suppose I could be persuaded….” She told him.
“How so?” He asked
“Kiss me.” She demanded and he didn’t reply, instead lowering his lips to her own as they kissed. His soft lips claimed her own with a mix of gentleness and firmness that left her feeling warm. The scratch of his recently shaved stubble lightly grazing her upper lip as they carefully moved their mouths together.
Breaking away she giggled.
“What is it now?” He asked feigning annoyance as he tried to lean in once again with a small grin on his face.
“I am going to need to borrow your scarves on occasion you know? I meant it when I said that your cologne is quite intoxicating..” she purred while leaning into his neck.
“Only if they come back smelling like you” he offered in rebuttal.
“I think that can be arranged,” she said once again, connecting their lips as the rest of the world melted away in the dim light of the undercroft.
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cambion-companion · 1 year
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Hi I like your blog ^_^ I was wondering if I can request a soft NSFW oneshot of Aemond feeling insecure about his eye and scar, but (fem!) reader lovingly rides him and gives him all the attention? I just want him to feel good 🤧
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Hi guys! I love the idea of Aemond and his wife overhearing some ladies gossiping about Aemond's eye and what horror may lie beneath...upsetting him and it's up to the reader to pull his thoughts back to her...it does get smutty towards the end so 18+ only (also this somehow became a continuation of my Lannister!reader fics...must be the wine.)
word count: 2500
Medieval insults here
Aemond x fem!Lannister!reader | upset Aemond | comforting Aemond | smut | first time sapphire reveal
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“That’s Lady Beesbury.”  You took a sip of wine from your golden goblet, leaning closer to Aemond as you spoke. “She’s a horrible creature.  Called me a ‘crooked-nosed fopdoodle’ just yesterday.”
Your betrothed, who had also taken a mouthful of his red wine, choked.  You patted him heavily upon his back several times as he coughed and laughed.  A tear streaming from his lilac eye, Aemond looked at you incredulously. “She…she did not.”
“On my honor as a Lannister, she did.”  You tilted your glass, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you nodded.
“I don’t disagree entirely on the ‘fopdoodle’ aspect.”  Aemond chuckled into his drink. “However, your nose isn’t crooked.”  He reached out, tweaking your nose between two fingers.
You made an undignified squeaking noise, rearing away from him, pushing his shoulder playfully. “If I am a fopdoodle, you are a mandrake mymmerkin!”
“Hmm. Harsh.”  Aemond cut you a sidelong look. “Yet you seem more than satisfied with how I attend to your desires.”
You ignored his mischievous glance, instead gesturing toward a group of foreigners, their furs still draped about their shoulders despite the heat of the Keep.  “Who are they?”
“Northerners by the looks of them.  Botons perhaps, due to the unsavory pallor of their cheeks.”  Aemond sniffed, his brow furrowing in distaste.  
“Yes.  I’m none too fond of the North, myself.”
“Snow doesn’t befit a lion?”  Aemond teased, pressing his shoulder affectionately against your own.
“Nor a dragon.”  You smiled at his familiar touch, savoring the smokey scent of him.
You lapsed into silence, both watching as the Bolton group, tousled of hair and wan of face, shuffled from the great hall.
Aemond placed his hand at the small of your back, his fingers probing the scarlet silk of your dress.  He caught your eye, opening his mouth to speak but the chatter of young women cut him off as a group of them swept into the hall. “…what’s beneath.”  The tallest of them was saying, her auburn hair shining straight, lit by the setting sun. “He wears that eyepatch at all times.”  You glanced at your prince, noting the sudden tension in his jaw as the girl continued. “Some say there’s ghastly ball of flame where his eye used to be.”
“Others say it is rotten, and not to get too near for the smell of it.”  Another girl piped up, her friends nodding at her shrill words.
“It’s obviously the reason he keeps to himself so much.”  The red-haired lady spoke again. “He’s a cripple for life. He would be handsome otherwise I dare say.  No one desires him.”
You felt Aemond leave your side, the absence of his presence sending a cold chill down your side.  Turning, you saw him departing, his long silver hair swishing against his rigid back as he strode from the hall, unnoticed by the gaggle of gossiping girls.
“I desire him.”  You said firmly, making a split-second decision, walking purposefully toward the group of women.  
A dark-haired lady scoffed at your words, her expression mocking as she looked you up and down.  Her brown eyes registered the scarlet gown you wore, your golden hair and fierce green eyes, the lion pendant upon your chest.  She decided better than to speak, biting her words down as she closed her mouth.
You appraised her down your nose. “Wise choice, girl.”
“Who are you?”  The leader of the pack, the redhead, half-snarled at your unwelcome presence.
“Y/N Lannister.”  You answered, your fiery gaze flicking to her face. “Betrothed to Aemond Targaryen.  I won’t ask for your names as they are sadly irrelevant.”  You leaned forward, imposing as you stood taller than any of them. “Mark me well, ladies, for this will be your only warning.  Speak ill of our prince again and I will make sure you and your families are cut off entirely from the Lannister coffers.”
“Is that a threat?”  The most vocal of the women spoke, trying to mask her fear.
“It’s a promise.”  You tilted your head at her, a smirk tugging your lips.  “You’d be lucky to get away with simple poverty.”
With a swirl of your silken gown you departed, leaving the girls gaping at your retreating form.  
You found Aemond in his chambers.  Entering unnoticed, you closed the door quickly, bolting it behind you.  He was seated before the fire, the window behind him framing a darkening sky of deep blue streaked with the last orange rays of the sun.  
You knew he heard your entrance but did not raise his head to meet your gaze as you approached where he sat.  “Aemond.”  You lowered yourself to the cushions beside him, reaching out to tuck a gentle finger beneath his chin. “My dragon.”  You tilted his head up, meeting no resistance as at last his eye met your own.  “They’re nothing, Aemond.” You tactfully ignored the redness around his purple iris, the dampness of his cheek. He moved away from your touch, you lowered your hand to your lap, still keenly studying his face. “They’re ignorant young women with wicked tongues.  Give them no credence.”
Aemond was silent several long moments.  He stood, approaching the fire, staring into the dancing flames. “It was the night I claimed Vhagar as my own.”  He spoke low, almost a whisper. “My nephews…attacked me.  I fought them off, but one brought a knife and, well…”  He turned to face you, gesturing toward the side of his face covered by the eyepatch.  
“Why did they attack you?”
Aemond shrugged. “They felt entitled to claim Vhagar.  They feel entitled to a great many things. Even my eye.”  His face darkened. “I should have fed them to my dragon.”
“No, Aemond.”  You rose fluidly to your feet, taking his forearms in your hands. “Kinslaying would have had dire consequences this world would never recover from.”
“Yes, I know.”  Aemond sighed, pressing his forehead against your own. “I can promise you, however, that there isn’t some ghostly flame where my eye used to be.”
“May I see?”
The prince was silent again, his fingers gripping your own forearms tightly as he looked down at your upturned face.  “Yes.”  His expression was solemn, guarded, as if he expected you to recoil the moment you saw him unmasked.
He made no movement, so you took it upon yourself to slowly reach up, hooking your fingers beneath the band of his leather eyepatch.  You carefully removed the fabric from his head, revealing the vertical scar in its entirety.  Where his eye had once been now sat a sparkling sapphire cut with many facets that reflected the firelight.
Your fingers traced along the scar as Aemond watched your expression carefully, he made to turn his face away, but you caught his jaw in your hand. “Aemond…you’re beautiful.”  You giggled at the slack expression on his face. “This is beautiful.”  You rose up on your tip toes, placing the softest of kisses against the cool stone eye.  You felt Aemond’s breath catch as your palms pressed against his chest.  “You’re the loveliest gem in Westeros.”
His violet eye narrowed at you. “You’re drunk.”
“I am not.”  You gasped in mock outrage. “Lannisters don’t get drunk on so little wine.”
“You’re raving then.”  Aemond turned away from you, back to the fire.  “My disfigured face inspires fear and disgust, nothing more.”
“Aemond…” You reached for him, gently touching his elbow.
“Loveliest gem indeed.”  He made a movement, ducking his head and reaching for his face with both hands.  You couldn’t see what he had done until he turned back to face you.  The sapphire now lay in his upturned palm, the socket of his eye now an empty blackness.  His one eye burned with the intensity of his gaze.  You schooled your expression, reaching up once more with light fingers to caress under the empty eye.  
“You infuriating, hard-headed man.”  You kissed him again, this time just below his gaping eye.  “What will it take for you to understand I am not going anywhere.”  Your kisses trailed down his cheek to the column of his neck where you nuzzled into him.  
You were gratified as you felt his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer as you continued to press your lips against his warm skin.  “I choose you because I want you, Aemond.”  
You reached back, undoing the lacings of your dress, shuffling off the rich fabric so that it pooled around your feet.  Aemond’s eye dilated as he watched you, he caught your hand as it made to unlace the ties of your undergarment. “Y/N…we shouldn’t.”
“We should.”  With little effort, you moved his hand to cup the swell of your breast.
He palmed you beneath the thin fabric of your shift.  You arched into his touch, unbuckling the dark green tunic he wore until it fell to the ground alongside your discarded dress.  Your fingers explored the planes of his defined chest and torso, dipping down to the waistband of his trousers, untying the lacings there as well as you backed him toward the waiting bed.
“Y/N.”  Aemond groaned, ducking to capture your parted lips with his in a searing kiss.
You pushed him back upon the mattress, pulling his remaining clothing off before crawling atop him, your hair falling to frame your faces.  Aemond’s long silken hair was spread atop the mattress, you couldn’t resist running your fingers through it, tugging slightly to elicit a small moan from his lips.
“Is this alright?”  You sat up straight, your thighs gripping Aemond’s trim waist as you looked down at his flushed face. “Me being on top?”
You felt his cock twitch against the inside of your leg as he rose against you, seeking friction.  “Yes.”  Was all he seemed able to say in the moment, his fingers grasping the flesh of your hips with bruising intensity.
In one movement you raised your shift over your head, tossing it aside, baring yourself completely to Aemond’s lustful gaze.  You massaged your own breasts, tweaking your nipples gently as you ground your wet heat along his hard arousal, coating his length with your slick.  
Aemond steadied you with firm hands as you rose up, taking him in hand and aligning him to your ready entrance.  The both of you moaned in unison as you sunk slowly down upon him, his long cock burying itself deep within your quivering walls.  
“Aemond.”  You gasped, the overwhelming feeling of his girth stretching you causing you to lean forward, pressing your hands against his chest for support.  
“Move.”  He pleaded, catching your lower lip with his teeth as you brushed your mouth against his.
You began rocking up and down, back and forth, savoring the feel of being in control, angling yourself so that Aemond’s manhood stroked against your most sensitive spots.  His breath filled your lungs, his tongue sliding along yours to the rhythm of your love making.  
You broke the kiss, straightening once more, fucking him faster, allowing his cock to hit against the deepest part of you.  Aemond reached up, securing your bouncing breasts in his hands, kneading the sensitive flesh as you arched your neck back, a sound of pleasure caught in your throat.  
Your name spilled from his parted lips, you looked back down to his face, reveling in the beauty of it.  “I want you.”  Your words were uttered like a prayer between gasps for breath. “I want to be yours.  I need you to be mine.”  You shuddered, your core clenching tightly around Aemond’s cock.  “Aemond.”
“Lean against me, my love.”  Aemond’s hands gripped your waist as you pressed your chest flush to his, your lips connecting in a sloppy kiss of tongue and teeth.  Aemond rose his hips to meet you, pumping his length into you with wild abandon.  His moans mingling with your own, the lewd slapping of flesh and musky scent of sex permeating the night air.  
“Aemond I-”  You panted, pressing your forehead against his, your eyes closed in rapture. “I’m going to…I want you to come inside me.”
You were still atop him now, letting Aemond take control as he set a punishing pace, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with a jolt of electric pleasure.  He groaned at your words, biting down upon your shoulder as he neared his own climax.  
You felt him begin to twitch inside you, the feeling of his teeth marking your flesh sending you crashing over the edge.  Aemond drove himself deep into you several more times before seating himself to the hilt inside your cunt as it milked the seed from him.  
He rolled you over onto your back, his silver hair tickling your chest as he leaned over you.  “You are a wonder, Y/N.”  Aemond kissed you softly upon your slack lips. “A creature apart from this world.”
Aemond rutted himself into you several more times, loathe to leave your silken heat.  When he did pull out, you felt oddly empty, the evidence of his orgasm leaking from you onto the rumpled sheets.  He kissed you deeper, slanting his mouth over yours, drinking down your weak mewls of lingering pleasure, his hands still groping the ample flesh of your thigh.
You remained locked together like this for many blissful moments, savoring the warm embrace of the other.  The taste of his lush lips moving with your own, the feel of his heartbeat against your chest, his arms cradling you against him as your leg was lifted over his waist.  
“I want to give you something.”  Aemond murmured against your searching lips, brushing his nose against yours.  
“Something else?”  You teased, your eyes opening to take in his adoring expression. “You’re so generous, my prince.”
He rewarded your wit with a dry chuckle, disentangling himself as he moved off the bed, walking over to rummage through the nearby dresser.  You stretched languidly, admiring the view of his bare body before you.
Aemond returned to your side, a small box in his open palm. A small smile traced his curved lips as he watched you undo the small ribbon, pulling off the lid to reveal what lay inside.  A gasp escaped your lips, your eyes flicking from his face to the ring that sparkled in the lowlight.  It was delicately crafted, wrought silver bands entwining to hold an exquisitely cut sapphire gemstone.  
“I know it is not of the traditional make.”  Aemond explained, still watching your expressions. “It was cut from the same stone that made my false eye.”  He hesitated only a moment before continuing. “I would be honored if you would wear this to signify our union.”
“It’s…”  Your voice caught in your constricting throat, unbidden tears welling in your eyes. “Aemond it’s…lovely.  Yes, I will wear it.”  You allowed him to slip the ring onto your finger, admiring the beauty of it as Aemond held your hand in his.  
“Now you will always have a part of me with you.”  Aemond kissed the top of your head as you drew him down into an embrace.  
“Hopefully more than one now.”  You guided your interlocked fingers to rest atop your womb, where you could still feel his release warm inside yourself.
“Hmm.”  Aemond agreed, tucking your head beneath his chin, his legs entwining with your own.  
Your breathing steadied; heavy eyes unable to tear themselves away from the shining gemstone that adorned your finger, signifying your belonging to Aemond Targaryen.  
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foursaints · 7 days
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i need to hear more about lucius and pandora. you are insane for coming up with this ship. it's amazing. did they ever actually date or was it just mutual obssession that never evolved in anything more, but they both knew and never got over it? did it affect his relationship with narcissa? did he see pandora in cissa?
okay i’ll take this as permission to yap because!! they’re always in my brain. i see the ludora thesis as: two characters who are entirely different, but who are both utterly convinced they’re Smarter Than Everyone Else Around Them. what conflict stems from that? what connection?
it was always just mutual obsession. sneaking around at the very most, but nothing publicly Real. to me, they end up married to narcissa & xeno respectively because narcissa & xeno are like… the socially acceptable versions of each other?
in my head xeno is a lot older than pandora (7-10 years), and he’s very kind, but too absentminded to be an attentive husband, and she likes him for a lot of reasons. but she’s also subconsciously like… Maybe this could resemble lu if i squint. meanwhile lucius has convinced himself that his rich lesbian wife is everything he’s ever wanted (she actually Obeys him!! unlike pan!!!) & it only takes him 3 years to realize he fucking hates this. they both got Exactly what they said they wanted, which is the opposite of each other. because they can’t stand each other. but they’re miserable.
like…. lucius should have been pandora’s ornery stay-at-home trophy husband she drags on expeditions for rare potion ingredients. they’re an Adventure Couple™️. him with his head wrapped in a mosquito net in a jungle wearing designer shoes, bitching at his beautiful wife at the top of his LUNGS, swinging a machete at vines (<- guy who has never been happier) (he is shouting: DO NOT TEST ME, WOMAN!!!!!, she is shouting: you are such AN INFANT !!!!!!!!, and they’re aggressively making out against a tree)
you have to imagine lucius at a posh ministry function being sooo smug about it too. he’s like “Ah yes, my wife, THE PROFESSOR, is publishing a book on MANDRAKES this month, arent you, darling?” while pandora is soooo thrilled to have a captive audience to subject to her rants about her publications. completely insufferable couple. united by thinking they’re better than everyone else (except? they are? i think they maybe actually are.)
+ remind yourself that this ship could ultimately result in Draco & Luna being brother and sister. so perfect. except none of this ever happened because they never let themselves be together.
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justanotherfanfolks · 5 months
Text
Guys saw this post and it set off the part of my brain where Cater Diamond lives rent free.
@krenenbaker you inspired this.
Gosh, I wanna throw Cater under a microscope.
Like he is such a fascinating character, it's so sad that people just see him as the "social media character." I remember a few months after I got the game I was reading through his vignettes and he was just setting off the gears in my head. Especially his Halloween vignette. I've talked about it before, but it gives us so much insight into Cater. How he doesn't like letting people in and keeps everyone at arms length, even Trey. When Trey was a Starsender, he wouldn't tell him his actual wish. And he was the same before when they got visited by a previous Starsender the year before. Trey knows there's something about him, but he is Trey "But That's None of My Business" Clover so he never pries. He's the closest to Cater, but maybe that's what makes Cater so wary. And how when his mandrake threatened to pull down the curtain, he shoved it back, he changed the subject. We also almost never get Cater by himself. He's always surrounded by people, always performing. And it's hard to tell what he's thinking because he's always brushing stuff aside with a smile on his face. But his Halloween vignette is one where we actually get to see some cracks in that, we actually get a peek into his brain. He's scared of getting too close to people because every time he lets someone in, he has to leave. He clearly cares about the people around him, but he has a track record that prevents him from showing too much of that. And by extension, we as an audience don't get to see too much of who he is behind closed doors. We know he puts on a show, he doesn't like showing when things get to him. When he mentions moving around a lot, he doesn't mention the struggle of it out loud. He says he likes Magicam for the casual connections and how it helps him keep in touch with old faces, but in his vignette when he actually gets messages from one of these faces he doesn't want to engage. In Silver's Halloween vignette he says his life has taught him to live in the moment. But it also taught him to not get comfortable, to keep walls up. He didn’t even tell his dorm something as simple as how he doesn't like sweets for years. Back on Halloween, he watches Diasomnia with something like envy. How they can be there for each other, be close. How they couldn't understand. Not knowing how someone there actually can understand.
Book 7 spoilers mentioned:
I also have a side tangent about him being multifaceted and always blending into what he expects people want. In Book 7, Cater is the only one we see truly struggling with the internships. Like, it is painfully relatable, I feel so called out. We go around the Juniors and see them feeling confident in their plans and here Cater is with his head on a desk feeling more confused and uncertain the more people he talks to. He's spent so much time following what other people want, putting on a show, he doesn't know where to go now. Let's not even mention how this is the moment he knew was coming for the past 3 years: that inevitable goodbye. I feel like Cater could be so interesting for the conflict going on in Diasomnia, but I'm not sure if they'll use him.
Tangent closing: I really like Cater. He's really well written and I don't think he gets enough respect on that front. He gets really good dialogue lines, but he also gets so much more. To me, he's one of the best characters in the game.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, the Cangst is real people.
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Note
It's so obvious that Tui and the fandom have no idea asexuality and aromanticism exists. Here is a list of protagonists and their love interest, both canon and fanon
Clay : Peril fanon
Tsunami : Riptide canon..?
Glory : Deathbringer canon
Starflight : Fatespeaker canon, Sunny fanon
Sunny : Fatespeaker fanon, Starflight fanon, Peril fanon
Moonwatcher : Qibli and Winter canon, Kinkajou fanon
Winter : Qibli and Moonwatcher canon
Peril : Sunny fanon, Clay fanon
Turtle : Kinkajou canon(? i think???)
Qibli : Winter and Moonwatcher canon, Umber fanon
Blue : Cricket canon
Cricket : Blue canon
Sundew : Willow canon, Mandrake fanon (yes I've seen it, esp with homophonic fans)
Snowfall : NONE!
Luna : Swordtail
Notice how ALL of them, other than Snowfall, have some ship in the books or by fans?
Notice how a lot of these characters are maybe Children that adults get into shipping wars with?
The discussion of allosexuality in this fandom needs to be discussed. Literally 1 protagonist out of 15 has no love interest forced onto them.
Also when was the last time you thought of Riptide? If you aren't a die-hard shipper I'd bet probably after his last appearance in the books! His only relationship on the wiki is with Tsunami, he exists to give Tsunami a fucking love interest and it's so obvious!
And I doubt the next Arc will drop the insane shipping, I bet Auklet will be the main victim somehow with Peacemaker close behind. Fuck people even today ship Auklet, Bumblebee, Cliff, Mink, and Peacemaker together when NONE OF THEM HAVE MET AND THEY ARE LITERALLY BABIES.
From: an AroAce fan who's tired of allosexuals forcing relationships onto real and fictional people.
To: 99% of shippers.
.
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Assigning First Age humans favorite foods for reasons
Bëor/Balan: Holds a traveller’s fondness and fear towards the humble mushroom; he counts himself lucky that Nargothrond is so vigorous in fungiculture.
Haleth: Though she’s eaten orc (before the elves got all hysterical about it) she doesn’t like it. As an older woman she gets a taste for dried hawthorn and very piquant rowan wine.
Marach: Grains are a new indulgence, he was never much of a farmer while on the march. In Estolad he finds a love of barley cakes.
Adanel: Raises ducks for gizzards
Imlach: Turnips in mountain goat butter. Like elves, he’s not “lactose tolerant” but cold climate girls make do.
Andreth: Innovated heavily in the field of Jellies, combining old advice from her teachers and elf lore to finalize the perfect crabapple jam.
Bregor: Lake trout with bitter orange.
Beril: Trained truffle hounds and valued her prizes highly.
Emeldir: Roast pig, fattened and butchered in autumn. As the main coordinator, she takes pride in the finished product and lets herself have a bit of crackling when it’s done.
Barahir: Is impressively lactose tolerant and enjoys an early, soft cheese, baked till its gooey.
Beren: In the dark woods, birds without a brood that year would spit crop milk into his mouth. It isn’t the taste he misses but the sense someone was one his side. Also hot drinks—after years being hunted it’s nice to have the security to build a fire.
Húrin: Lamb with a a certain blend of spices, the recipe reportedly over the mountains by his ancestors. No one uses cumin like Hador’s people.
Huor: The elves of Gondolin kept snail—he’s never been able to recapture the crisp, woody taste of their eggs.
Morwen: Dove, roasted, maybe a little more raw than is advisable but she trusts her butchery.
Rian: Nectar from the woodbine that blooms late in spring
Ulfang: Fresh wild-strawberries; his sons would bring him handfuls of them when they were small.
Bór: He likes a fermented milk, somewhere between kumis and filmjölk, but he’ll also drink milk raw just to flex on Maedhros’ kin.
Aerin: Even before she was tasked with feeding great numbers in the shadow of famine, she had a fondness for the humble onion.
Tuor: Bumblebee honey, dug out of the ground right at the coming of winter, when the bees are dying and don’t need it anymore.
Túrin: A pine nut/bear fat/mandrake pemmican Beleg taught him. None of his friends handle the alkaloid content as well as he does. He likes raw potatoes too.
Nienor: Used to catch the snakes that came to prey on her mother’s birds and make them into soup. As Níniel she eats crabapples before they can be jellied.
Dior: Little minnows found in the cold streams of Doriath and around the island of his birth. Also, eel.
Brandir: Roast chestnuts—he uses his cane to crack them open to the delight of children.
Eärendil: Enjoys shark as a child, before Morgoth’s seeping rot builds up dangerously in local bioaccumulators. Likes fennel in Sirion and the sea buckthorn that grows near his lady’s tower across the waves.
Elros: Seafood is a steady source of protein for an establishing society. Once they have the stores to use their sheep for meat as well as wool though? He’s your king for mutton in almond milk.
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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years
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𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫.       𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝
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remus lupin x animagus!reader
𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠
summary: you and the marauders become animagi for the first time and you manage to (not-so-subtly) crush on remus even while he’s a werewolf.
w/c: 5k
・゚⋆☾*・゚.・。.*゜✭・・゚✫・⋆。.
life was a willow and it bent right to your wind head on the pillow, i could feel you sneaking in
you hadn’t spoken to remus since last week. it wasn’t like the months before, where you’d slowly but unintentionally distanced yourself from him in favor of the animagus potions; no, this time, it was he who took to avoiding you. the day after your argument, he caved into sparing you a few brief glances. but since then, he’d successfully managed to shut you out in every class, at every meal, and disappear from the library and common room.
it was torture.
“what’s the incantation again?” sirius mumbled to himself as he flipped through the pages of the book that had begun to eat away at you each time you saw it. the guilt had nothing to do with the fact that you’d stolen an official ministry document from the restricted section or that you were using it to do something very dangerous and illegal, but because it reminded you that you’d sacrified your relationship with remus by choosing to become an animagus.
sure, you were becoming an animagus for him. but it still took all your self restraint not to spit out the damn mandrake leaf every time you saw the devastation and betrayal crack through his straight-faced exterior. in the past three years you’d known remus, you’d never once fought like this. you didn’t fight, period. there were squabbles over the best muggle literature and who got the last copy of a library book and whether tea or coffee was the most complimentary for a reading session, but none of those lasted more than a few hours or a day at most.
so yes, you’d rather have a girl’s night with bellatrix lestrange than this—whatever it was.
“ah! amato animo… a tomato? atonement… animagus- huh?” james squinted at the instructional pages; the parchment was limp from the sustained humidity of the dungeons and the ink had slightly bled, so you couldn’t blame james.
oh, you could, actually. “merlin, james. gimme those-” you grabbed his glasses from his face and wiped the grime and condensation off with the sleeve of your robe. “there, better?”
james’ eyes buggled in astonishment. “loads! woah, i feel like i’ve gotten a whole new prescription!”
you grimaced. “y’might as well have… do you not clean your glasses, james?”
james shook his head and his curls bounced along. “no, why would i?”
you looked back at the parchment.
peter elbowed james harshly. “listen up, mate. it’s amato animo animato animagus, ‘right?” peter rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “not any of that… tomato rubbish.”
“i figure we ‘ought to head up; i think the ceiling’s already beginning to leak.” sirius shuffled his belongings together and tucked them under his arm. “up and at ‘em, lads! and… lass.”
you waved him off. “nah, i figure i count as one of the lads now. i’ve seen all of you half naked, ‘cept for james, who was full naked. we’re forever now.”
your group ascended the stairs, footsteps and voices echoing off the stone walls. peter laughed heartily. “i think you’re right. you ‘oughtta be a full marauder, at this point.”
james nodded. “yeah, and you even know about moony’s furry little secret! plus, we’re breaking so many laws right now and become ani-”
sirius slapped the back of james’ head as you slammed your hand over james’ mouth. james cried out, the sound muffled by your palm.
“what was that for?” james sputtered, genuinely in pain.
“you are the worst at keeping secrets, james potter. remind me to never make you my secret keeper,” you groaned.
“hey, i’m not that bad!” peter snorted. “i’d rather have sirius as my secret keeper than james.”
you all looked at the boy thoughtfully. james nodded and shook his finger at peter. “let’s be honest, the only person we should trust with secret-keeping is peter. or moony, but he’s not here at the moment.”
“shush, we’re here!” sirius pointed his head at a large window facing the hogwarts grounds. from there, you could see the lightning storm tearing violently at the branches of the whomping willow.
“well, you all know what t’do.” james sat on the ground matter-of-factly and pressed the tip of his wand over his heart. “amato animo animato animagus… hello? get to it!”
you all followed suit, though peter was chewing his lip nervously. “is this gonna work? i mean, we only had one sunset between finishing the potion and the electricity storm so we never did a sunrise incantation… will that be enough? plus, we started the spell during the storm, so will that-”
“shut it, would’ya?” sirius grumbled. “we’ve got- holy shit!” sirius gasped. “i- i feel the second heartbeat!”
your eyes widened. “godric, we’re really doing this, aren’t we?”
james nodded numbly. “we’re in deep shit.”
--
“ready?” you asked, clutching the crystal phial that had once held your mandrake leaf and the moth chrysalis. it was now a thin blood red potion, enough for one mouthful.
“y-yeah,” sirius whispered, knuckles white as he gripped the fabric of his robes.
“i still think it’s a bad idea to do this in our dorm,” peter fretted, always the cautious one. “what if someone walks in?”
“that’s why we’ve locked the door, duh.”
“-or what if one of our animagus forms is a-an elephant, and we break everything?”
“that’s a problem for later-”
“or what if it doesn’t work and we get stuck in a horrible half-transformation forever?”
james grinned. “well, that’d certainly suck, wouldn’t it?” he uncorked his bottle and held it up in the air. “cheers, lads!” with one gulp, he’d swallowed the potion with confidence. nothing happened.
you and sirius looked at each other, eyebrows raised. taking a deep breath, you followed suit, downing the potion all at once. similarly, there was no change.
“oh! we have to do the incantation again…” you flipped through the book, skimming for any missed instructions. you grimaced. “ah, the book reads: you must show no fear. it is too late now, to escape the change you have willed.”
“on that cheery note,” james announced, pointing his wand to his chest once more, “amato animo animato animagus!”
at once, james let out a strained groan. “fuck, that’s killer!” he clutched his side.
you figured it was best to finish this quickly. “amato animo animato animagus,” you mumbled, bracing yourself for the incoming pain.
you now understood why so few people decided to become animagi. the gruelling preparation process aside, this was the worst pain you’d ever felt (and that you’d ever feel, you thought).
“does anyone else feel like they’re being barbequed alive or is that just me?” peter gasped.
“barbequed? you’re too white to have any barbeque seasoning… ah!”
“this is no time for joking!”
“it’s always time for-” james was abruptly cut off.
“what in godric’s name-” sirius sobbed through his pain, marveling at the stag that had taken james’ place.
of course james was the first to transform. he was always a bit of an overacheiver.
“ohh, i’m really feeling that double heartbeat now,” you panted, curled into the fetal position. james looked like he wanted to move over to you, but he knew better. peter was right—what if someone’s animagus was an elephant? james didn’t want to be in the way for that transformation.
“oh my go-”
when had the world become so small? everything had changed color… this was it. you were in so much pain that you were beginning to hallucinate; the next stage would be unconsciousness.
no, that wasn’t right. your nose twitched. why was your nose twitching? you couldn’t control it. god, the dorm smelled horrible. looking at your feet—well, they were no longer feet—you were confronted with the truth: your animagus was a rabbit.
a damn rabbit? you thought. why couldn’t i be something cool, like a bear? or a gryffindor lion? well, i suppose that wouldn’t be very inconspicuous… the marauders are going to tease me relentlessly for this…
you hopped—hopped!—towards your new and alarmingly large friends. sirius was a large black dog with long, coarse hair. he licked you eagerly, covering you in drool, and you wished that you were something larger so that you could bit him in retaliation. you felt humiliated as you leaned onto your haunches and cleaned your face in the way rabbits did—yes, the marauders weren’t ever going to let you live this down.
james the stag waved his head up and down like he was laughing. oh, how you wished you were a human so you could slap him. you’d have to settle for some angry foot stomping.
and peter… poor peter was a rat. a cruel part of you was delighted in peter’s unfortunate animagus form. it would take the ruthless commentary off of you.
but just like that, your fun was cut short. the doorknob was rattling aggressively, the noise only enhanced by your new senses. it seemed that sirius’ senses had also improved, as he seemed to panic as he sniffed the air. he growled lowly, slinking backwards until he was beside a bed and out of view from the doorway.
your ears swivelled and you caught a quiet voice. “alohamora.” it was then that you discovered a benefit to your animagus form: skittishness. your reflexes seemed to take over as you scurried ungracefully beneath the same bed that sirius was taking refuge behind. you couldn’t see much.
there was a bark. sirius’ bark. and then a loud clanging. and then a slam, followed by hesitantly approaching footsteps and a string of expletives.
it was remus.
“what. the. fuck.”
we can explain! you wanted to say, but another thing you discovered was that you couldn’t speak—not just in terms of human words, but you couldn’t bark like sirius or squeak like peter. so you thumped.
“did- did sirius put you in here? james? peter?” remus appeared to be going insane. “what was that? that noise?” he bent down to inspect the thump from beneath the bed and caught sight of a bunny rabbit, its bright eyes glowing back at him. his breath hitched in his throat.
“whaaaa- oh shit. there’s four of you. oh shiiiit.” remus pulled his head from under the bed and you wriggled towards him, following curiously. remus stepped backwards, appalled, pulling at his unruly hair which he’d stopped taking care of at the same time he’d stopped talking to you.
he rubbed his eyes. “no,” he whispered. “no, no, no.” remus turned around, left the room, and slammed the door behind him. you looked at peter, who was even smaller than you were, who squeaked a few times in response. james and sirius had yet to make much nose, which was smart—they didn’t want to draw attention from any other gryffindors.
the door flew open and remus entered once more, pointing a shaky, accusatory finger at the four of you. “i swear to merlin, i’ll kill you if you’re what i think you are. who i think you are,” he hissed.
your nose twitched aggressively as you shut your eyes, trying your best to transform back so you could defend yourself. you fell to your stomach, banging your cheek on the floor, as you returned to your human form. you thanked whoever created the rules of magic for allowing animagus transformers to keep their clothing.
“rem, please don’t-” you huffed, picking yourself up and rubbing your head. remus scrambled towards you, crouching down and pulling you into his arms wordlessly. caught off guard, you let yourself fall into his embrace, finding yourself surrounded by the scent that you’d missed for months. you buried your nose deeper into the crook of his neck. perhaps you were imagining it, but it seemed that you could smell more clearly even in human form.
remus stood, dragging you with him, and you stood in his arms limply, exhausted from the effort and extraneousness of the transformation. you wrapped your arms around his body, as he did yours, and closed your eyes. it was easy to pretend that three teenage boys were not currently in this room as illegally tranformed animagi while you were in the arms of your best friend, a werewolf, who you were madly in love with.
(the last part was a lie. you were very much aware that you were standing in remus’ arms.)
when james, sirius, and peter all became human once more, remus put his hands on your shoulders and walked you backwards so you could join the other marauders in their guilty little huddle.
“what have you done?” remus whispered, horrified.
you raised your hands in the air and shook them. “ta-da!”
it was very silent. to be fair, there wasn’t any precedent for “things to say after you went behind your best friend’s back and committed an extremely dangerous and illegal act in order to help him through a monthly werewolf transformation which is also dangerous and also most likely breaks many, many regulations.”
then sirius said. “in our defense-”
he only spurred on a panicked frenzy from remus. “merlin, how long- how did you- this is dangerous! and illegal! and- why would you- damn it, does this have something to do with me being a w- with my condition?” he hissed furiously.
“no! well… yes,” peter admitted bashfully.
“i’m sorry! we were trying to help. we thought that being around animals could distract the werewolf from hurting itself, and we’d be safe since we’re not human,” james hurriedly explained. “and we were careful and hey, it all turned out okay, right? no weird human-animal horror hybrids!”
remus paced, gnawing anxiously on one of his knuckles.
“rem, we didn’t mean to-”
“and you told her!” he snarled, pushing you aside and going straight for james. there was no logical sense to it—james wasn’t the only one who told you about the plan. “you fucking told her! i asked for one thing-”
“technically it was like, three things-”
“and you- damn it!” remus gasped for breath, dragging his hands down his face.
“‘tell her?’ tell who, me?” you interjected. “the fuck were you thinking; keeping secrets from me? i’m the one who bloody found this out in the first place! why are you talking about me behind my back?” you scoffed. “what, do you think i’m not man enough to handle whatever it was that you talked about?”
remus grabbed your shoulders once more, shaking you slightly. “i don’t want you involved in this! i don’t want you here!” he looked distressed. “that’s not what- no, i don’t want you to put yourself in danger because i knew my idiot friends were going to try something! i care about you too much to- merlin, you shouldn’t have.” then he ripped his hands from you like he’d burned himself.
“you don’t care about us?” sirius pouted, trying to lighten the mood.
“how did you even pull this off?” remus sat on his bed, defeated. “i mean, when did you even have time for this? how’d you even know how to?”
you pursed your lips to hide your smug smile. “i raided the restricted section,”
“you mean we-”
“and the potions closet, and got access to the dungeons…”
peter chimed in excitedly. “and i stole- got the phials, and the moth chrysali—don’t even ask—by the way, and sirius… held the map, and james… was our team leader. isn’t that right, james?”
james nodded.
remus buried his face in his pillow, trying to remain quiet as tears stubbornly forced themselves out of his eyes. he hated his friends. he hated their recklessness and stupidity and outrageousness. but most of all, he hated that he loved them.
“we only did it for you, moony.” james looked over at remus sadly, trying to gague his state.
remus hiccuped. “i’m a monster. i just- i don’t understand why you’d-”
you rushed to remus’ side, perching yourself on the edge of his mattress and laying a hand on his head, stroking his hair. “i’d- we’d do anything. anything for our moony.”
--
you were back by that window, the one where you and the marauders and uttered the animagus incantation. there was no storm this time, and the branches of the whomping willow almost seemed relaxed as they drooped loosely, allowing themselves to sway with the wind. there was an odd semblance of peace.
you jumped slightly as remus placed a hand on your shoulder. caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t heard him arrive.
“sorry,” he muttered. he looked out the window with you.
hit by a stroke of bravery, you brought your hand up to cover his, coaxing it off your shoulder. you let his hand fall to his side, where you tangled his fingers in yours. it was nice, albeit a little uncomfortable. his hands were much larger than your and your fingers didn’t quite fit together.
“the full moon’s tonight.” you sighed heavily. “shouldn’t you be resting?”
“i’m alright. i’m used to it.”
“you shouldn’t be. you shouldn’t have to get used to- all of this. i wish you didn’t have to- to suffer.”
remus smiled sadly, turning to look at you. “i wish that too.”
you looked down at the ground. “me and the boys are going to come with you tonight,” you stated. there was no room for questioning.
“what?”
you lowered you voice. “after pomfrey brings you down to the shack, we’re going to sneak out and meet you there. we’ll be in our animagus form before you transform. that way, you don’t have to be alone.”
“have you lost it?” remus laughed incredulously. his hand broke free from your so he could cup your cheeks softly. “no, you’re not.”
“we’re not, or i’m not?” you murmured. “i know you think differently of me. but i don’t want you to. i’m not- not weak, or naive, or helpless, remus. i’m just as good as the other marauders.”
“no, i don’t think that of you. quite frankly, i think you’re stronger and cleverer and better than all of them combined. i just don’t want- i couldn’t handle it if you got hurt. especially if it was because of me. i-”
“moony, you would never hurt me. i know you wouldn’t; there’s no hesitance in my heart. and i’m a rabbit,”
“yes, you’re a rabbit, do you not see how-”
“i’m a rabbit, which means i’m fast. i can get away if i really need to—which i won’t, because you’re not going to hurt me.”
“how do you know that? how can you be sure?”
“let’s say i’ve done my research. i did check out that book, remember?”
--
“don’t come near me with your damn prongs!” sirius laughed, pushing james’ head away as he pretended to butt into sirius’ chest with the crown of his head. the four of you had yet to transform, still reviewing the logistics in the boys’ dorm.
“prongs! i like that.” you declared. “i think we all need code names. moony has one. james can be prongs.”
“hey, that’s not nearly as cool as moony!”
sirius snorted. “peter should be wormtail. the first thing i saw when he was transformed was his tail, and i really thought his animagus was going to be a worm!”
it was peter’s turn to be outraged. “are you serious? that’s so-”
“‘course i’m sirius! i’m always sirius.”
“if we’re going by first impressions, i say sirius should be padfoot. i’m being ser- i’m not kidding, have you seen his paws? they’re like pillows; mine are perfectly normal, thank you,” you sniffed.
“alright, and what’ll you be?” 
james gestured at you from head to toe. “hopper.” he declared.
“i’ll take it! y’know what, i’ll take it.”
“‘right then, folks! we better get going. have you got the map?” james dug through a heap of junk.
“we finished it?” peter questioned.
“yeah, hopper helped with the dungeons area. we just gotta seal it later.”
“wait a minute, how come you get to be hopper and i’m wormtail?”
sirius held up the parchment triumphantly. “found it! i also found dog treats. who got dog treats?”
“that would be me,” you snickered, finding yourself very funny. “the house elves helped.”
you’d only figured out the travel strategy yesterday, and in hindsight, you should’ve practiced. the invisibility cloak was draped over james’ antlers with peter in between each one, and sirius stood by james’ side while you balanced for dear life on sirius’ back. it was much more difficult for you to cling on than it was for peter. you’d tried being down on the ground, walking alongside sirius and james, but you had gotten too close to being stepped on for your comfort.
peter had wanted to travel as humans and transform outside, which you vehemently opposed. it was safer to become animals in the privacy of a dorm room rather than on open grounds. you thought it was a bit unfair that peter, who had an easier time being on james’ back than you on sirius’, was so adamant about “convenience.”
it was a clear evening. you’d always enjoyed astronomy, but since discovering remus’ condition, looking at the moon had only brought dread upon you. you figured it must be a lot worse for remus.
you’d found that, in animal form, there was some primitive way you could communicate. you found it secretly preferable to normal communication with the marauders. there was no nuance or room for jokes, only barks with general meanings and vague symboling. it was effective, timewise.
“hurry up!” prongs nudged his head forward, almost sending wormtail flying.
“merlin, we’re trying!” padfoot whined. “i’m carrying a bloody rabbit on my back, so would you give it a sec?”
you pawed at sirius’ head. “i’m not that much of a burden! do you know how hard you’re making this for me? i’m on the verge of slipping off at every turn!”
“would you all shut it? i’ve gotta get past the whomping willow,” wormtail squeaked. he scurried to the base of the willow with the nimbleness that only a rat could process and pressed his tiny hand to a special spot on the bark. its defensive branches went limp, and the three of you pushed forward.
you jumped from padfoot’s back, scrambling to land properly. your rabbit body abilities weren’t very natural to you.
“moony!” padfoot barked. there was a flicker of recognition in remus’ eyes, though for the most part, they were clouded in discomfort. the four of you shifted back to your human forms, hoping to comfort remus before his full moon transformation.
“remus?” you whispered, so quietly that it oculd be mistaken for a breath. you crept towards him, who was curled into himself in a corner of the room. “remus, it’s going to be okay. we’re here!” you tried to lift his spirits.
remus shook his head. “i’m scared,” he confessed shakily. “if anything happens to you…”
“we’ll be alright, moony.” peter smiled reassuringly. the wonderful thing about peter was his ability to empathize with everyone. he had a way of calming his friends down during their lowest moments. “and if anything goes wrong, we know to leave immediately,” peter promised.
remus nodded, eyeing the ground warily. “you should probably turn again. it’ll be anytime now.”
within moments, remus was surrounded by four animals once more. you still weren’t used to being so small as a rabbit. you nuzzled against remus’ thigh, rubbing the side of your face against the fabric of his pants affectionately. remus smiled sadly, using two fingers to scratch behind your ears. you cooed.
there was a sudden snapping and remus inhaled sharply. he was beginning to transform. you backed away quickly, as did the other marauders, and watched as remus began the painful process of becoming a werewolf. you didn’t bother looking—it felt voyeuristic; wrong. there was nothing you could do to cover the sound of remus’ bones breaking, his well-worn clothing ripping and tearing, and the cries of pain that already began to sound like howls.
you wished you could cry yourself. unfortunately, the best you could do was stomp your feet and grind your teeth (which you did, violently).
for all that remus described himself to be as a werewolf, you found him startlingly beautiful. before you was a wolf, larger and slightly lankier than normal, that was distinctly remus. he had the same opalescent green eyes, the same mysterious and confident composure, and the same quiet curiosity. this was not a monster or a creature meant to kill. this was remus lupin at his most vulnerable.
padfoot whined lowly. “moony, y’alright?”
moony seemed startled; not threatened, but rather emotional. “i’m alright.”
“hell yeah!” prongs waved his head around excitedly, forcing padfoot to skirt out of the way to avoid his wild antlers. “this is so cool!”
“speak for yourself,” wormtail squeaked. “i’m still motion sick. moony, do y’know how we got here? i rode on prongs’ bloody head, like ratatouille!”
“what’s a ratatouille?” prongs and padfoot were equally puzzled.
you and wormtail shared a look that only non-pureblooded folk could understand. “don’t even worry about it. that movie won’t be released until nearly three decades later, and you’ll all be well and dead by then. let’s just move on.”
“can i come closer, moony?” you tilted your head, one ear sticking up quizzically. moony huffed in affirmation.
“it’s me! can you tell?”
“i can.” moony seemed amused. “you’re just as annoying as a rabbit as you are a human.”
you thumped in displeasure. “you git. i didn’t carry a mandrake leaf in my mouth just for you to insult me.”
prongs grunted. “you are quite funny, hopper. have you seen her binky yet? it’s so embarrassing.”
you thumped a few times more. “yeah? says the one with the death contraption on his head! plus, all you can do is grunt like a caveman. i didn’t realize it was possible for you to get any dumber.”
padfoot barked madly. “merlin, i love this. i’m the only one who can make actual sounds.”
wormtail scratched the floor angrily. “don’t rub it in, padfoot. or i’ll bit you and give you rabies.”
“i don’t think that’s how it works,” prongs corrected.
“it’s nice to see that you’re all just as insufferable as animals,” moony snorted, beginning to pace restlessly around the shack. “it’s too cramped in here. i feel like i’m suffocating.”
“couldn’t be me,” wormtail gloated. “perks of being a rat, i s’pose.”
“oh, shut it wormy. i’ll have padfoot eat you.” you threatened.
padfoot cringed. “absolutely not!”
“what, so you don’t think i’m tasty? i’m offended by that, you know.”
“hey, do you want to be eaten? ‘cause i-”
“can you all shut it?” prongs hooved the wooden flooring with a loud scrape. “you’re stressing moony out.”
prongs was right—moony was beginning to scratch at himself again, only able to entertain himself with your animal antics for so long. you leaped towards him frantically, and moony froze. he brought his face down to yours very slowly, like he was scared to hurt you. you could feel his warm, damp exhales puff through his nose and onto your face. there was fear in moony’s eyes as he examined you, so fragile in comparison to his powerful, muscular build.
“don’t be so egotistical, moony,” you scoffed. you found that reverse psychology type tough love was the only thing that would get through to remus when he thought he didn’t deserve kind words. “you’re not special. hell, i’m loads better than you. watch this.” you spun in circles as you became a blur in front of moony’s eyes.
moony vocalized what sounded like a laugh. “c’mere,” he probed, inviting somebody else closer for the first time. “let me see you.”
“i’m quite pretty, aren’t i?” you bragged. “very cute, if i say so myself.”
“precious,” moony agreed. “you’re my little treasure.”
you wanted to kiss him right then and there. you were his treasure. you discovered another downside to your animagus form: you had no lips to kiss with. you settled for a lick.
“did you just… lick me?” moony teased, lifting the paw you’d licked curiously.
“so what if i did?” you countered, thumping, thumping, thumping as you’d learned was the best way to communicate your annoyance. the boys were annoying you a lot today.
“merlin, we should call you thumper instead.” wormtail chirped.
“hey, i want a kiss!” padfoot ran over, tongue lolling, and covered you in slobber as he repeated his minstrations from the first transformation. he did the same to moony, who pushed him off seconds later.
“i’m disgusting!” you whined, rubbing yourself against moony’s legs. “ew, you’re so gross, pads!”
“hey, where did those names come from anyway?” moony allowed himself to lay on the ground so you’d be able to wipe yourself off on him better.
prongs trotted over, careful not to impale anything. “you got a cool name, so we wanted ones for ourselves. d’you like ‘em?”
moony dipped his head in approval. “very fitting. though i think i prefer love over thumper, though,” he cooed.
you preened. “i love you too, moony.” as if on instinct, you stood on your hind legs and lifted yourself to the underside of moony’s head, where you rubbed your chin on the fur there. 
wormtail, padfoot, and prongs gave each other indecipherable looks. wormtail spoke first. “did you- did you just scent him?”
“what does that even mean?” you denied.
“yeah, we’re just affectionate, s’all.” moony added.
“good godric, i’m tired. is anybody else tired?” you whined, stretching your body until you were very flat and long. 
moony nudged you with his nose affectionately. “go to sleep, little one. the others will wake you up when it’s time to go.”
so you closed your eyes, curled up against the warmth of moony’s chest, feeling his heart beat steadily against your body—the body you’d sacrificed months of time for in order to be here with him.
・゚⋆☾*・゚.・。.*゜✭・・゚✫・⋆。.
taglist: (if your name has a strike, that means tumblr won't let me tag you)
@im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @liszblog @springflwer07 @getawayfrommewerewolf @ilovehotdads69 @soumya-13 @emmaev @urgrandadsashes @girl-ln-green @vilentia @bibli0thecary @khayhuij
(note: i've realized not everyone wants to be tagged in both marvel/marauders content, so if you want to be specifically in ONE or ALL, shoot me an ask and specify! otherwise i'll keep u in the general for now. ty!)
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dr3mvaalmar · 7 months
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Showers of Sentiments | Kinktober Day 6
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Pairing: Asra x Gn! Reader
Prompt: First Kiss (sfw)
Summary: Asra and the reader spend the day inside the shop on a rainy day.
Warnings/Tags: none that I know of
Author's Note: I didn't have time to edit and go through this thoroughly because of work and lack of sleep. It might sound a bit robotic. Thank you for your patience.
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My eyes peered to the skies, a veil of pregnant clouds overcast above. Peering back down towards Asra, he seemed none the wiser to the looming storm. We were walking in the market after a midday excursion. Our feet hit the cobblestones as we strolled to various stalls and attractions. Today was the weekly bazaar, where new tents and goodies were spread across in succession—the colorful array of fabrics billowed in the growing wind. The shouting of merchants and customers resonated across the entire street, a cacophony of voices melding into one. Various stalls had everything from fruit and vegetables to crafts and necessities. It was hectic in the market. The lively crowd was so dense I could hardly see in front of me.
Asra turned towards me, a fleeting glance to ensure I was steadily behind him. He didn’t dare leave me behind, but it was certainly hard to keep up. He weaved through the crowd with graceful agility I couldn’t compare with. Seeing my newfound struggle as people entrapped me between them, Asra took my hand in his. It was gentle, yet I trusted him not to let go.
“It’s about to rain,” I shouted towards Asra. He didn’t seem to notice the first time, so I repeated it. He gazed upwards. The clouds were now upon us. Asra’s nose scrunched up as a droplet plummeted onto his face. “We should go back to the shop.”
“I was hoping we could pick up some mandrake root before we go,” Asra said, his lips puckering in disappointment. I squeezed his hand tighter just as the rain started to pour on the two of us. “Well, it can wait for another day. How about we have a little fun, (Y/n)? It’s not often there’s rain this time of year.”
My lips curled upward, which only encouraged him further. He took my hand, guiding me through the crowd. By now, everyone was getting soaked as the rain increased in vigor. It was much easier to maneuver by now.
Asra took me to an alley nearby before undoing the straps of his shoes. I could only watch miraculously as he set the shoes aside. Asra looked up from his crouched position, beckoning me to do the same. Reluctantly, I followed suit.
“Isn’t this exciting? I can’t remember the last time I felt rain like this,” Asra said, his arms spreading out from beside him. He twisted and hopped in the puddles, never minding the mud he was stepping on. Asra took me along as we reveled in the coolness of the downpour. I paused to close my eyes, enjoying the trickling of water and the giggles of Asra before me. The smell of petrichor was heavy in the air. Even though the rain was cold this time of year, it felt like a blanket across me. Water cascaded across my exposed flesh, dripping onto the ground below.
Asra’s shoulder brushed against mine as he returned to my side. His eyes were filled with wonder as we enjoyed the scene before us. Houses were dripping with water, the pitter-patter making music along the cobblestone. The sky was dark, and the sun was long obscured. 
At that moment, I couldn’t help but admire Asra. The way the rain soaked into his white curls, dripping onto his long lashes. His face was slick and glimmered in the dimness of the storm. His clothes clung to his form, leaving little to the imagination. The way he stomped around like a child was so endearing. When Asra drew near again, I leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth against my cold skin. Yet, I felt a hole in my heart. Something was missing.
I grabbed both of his hands, bringing them up to my face. I didn’t heed his flustered expression as I laid his fingers across my skin. They were wet but comforting. I nudged into them, inciting a delicate sound to escape from Asra’s throat. I giggled.
“Maybe we should go to the shop,” Asra said, turning away. “You’ll catch a cold if we stay out here too long.”
“What about the fun?” I asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. His golden skin was gorgeous under the reflection of the rain.
“It wouldn’t be any fun if you got sick, now would it?”
We both returned to the shop, soaking wet from the torrent of rain. The sky was getting darker by the moment. Lightning would pierce the clouds, and a bang of thunder would resume. It was getting more unruly by the moment, but Asra was able to shield us with a magic barrier above us.
When we opened the doors, the shop seemed so inviting. The aroma of the potion ingredients brewing in the kitchen hit my senses. It was intense, almost overpowering. Asra used a spell to disperse the heat throughout the house, warding off the chill of the raging storm outside. Thunder shook the house with every strike of lightning. As Asra prepared, I went to our shared bedroom, stripping my wet clothes.
“(Y/n), what kind of bakhoor do want?” Asra said, calling my attention. I turned towards the closed door, sensing his presence on the other side. “I’m also preparing tea in the other room.”
I told him my preference before he scurried off. We collected some perfumed wood chips from a traveling merchant. It complimented the house and our clothes with a flourish of enticing fragrances. I chuckled to myself before putting on some warm night clothes. I hung my old garments to dry before I would clean them tomorrow.
I entered the room to find Asra curled on the floor in a pile of blankets and pillows. He must’ve changed already, as his attire was dry and very gaudy compared to his usual garments. The bakhoor smoke wafted around him, inviting coziness and leisure. Beside him was a pot of boiling water, sustained purely on a small brazier. He invited me in with a smile.
I walked towards the window, peering through the curtains to see rain spilling down the side of the shop. It didn’t look like it'd die down anytime soon. The droplets seemed to dance wickedly across the windowpane. I walked back to Asra as he patted the spot next to him. 
“What tea did you make for us?” I asked as Asra started pouring the cup. He waved his hand, clearing the steam away from my face. I eagerly peered into the amber liquid as it gyrated with each subtle movement.
“Today it’s elderflower and echinacea,” Asra affirmed. I leaned over to savor the smell. It was very floral and soft with slightly fruity notes. I took the cup in my hand, the heat radiating into my fingers. Tentatively, I took a sip. 
“It’s hot, but I—” I said before scrunching my nose. In one fluid motion, I sneezed, tossing the liquid in my hand. Asra had strong reflexes to stabilize the cup, but it wasn't near enough to protect me. The hot liquid tipped over the edge, spilling onto my lap. I jerked but tried to stay calm in front of him. Asra looked pitifully at me as he set my drink aside.
“Ah, (Y/n)!” Asra said, frantically finding a rag to soak up the tea. “I knew you would get sick. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you out in the rain.”
I only giggled, the initial heat subsiding. I dabbed at my clothes, paying no mind after a moment. I laid a hand on Asra’s shoulder reassuringly.
“Don’t apologize,” I assured, his eyes dull and half-blinking. “I enjoyed our time together.
Asra seemed aloof, refusing to look me in the eyes. However, I knew no matter how much I reassured him, he would still feel guilty. It wasn’t even his fault. I wouldn’t even get sick this quickly.
“Can I make it up to you?” Asra asked, hands folded together. “I have a remedy that may help.”
I nodded enthusiastically. Anything to make him feel better. He got up from his criss-crossed position. He disappeared briefly before reappearing with a bottle of viscous liquid and some wool socks. I arched a brow.
“Lie down, (Y/n),” Asra instructed with a tender smile. I did as I was told, lying on the nest of fabrics below. Asra seemed determined as he grasped my right leg. 
“What are you doing?” I asked as he poured oil over his hand. He looked up from his task.
“There’s a tradition,” Asra began, “that taking care of someone’s feet is seen as a deep act of respect and care. The feet, after all, carry all of our burdens. They are deeply connected to the body.”
Asra rubbed my feet with gentle pressure. His hands glided gracefully along the skin from my ankles to my heels, to the pads of my feet, all the way to my toes. I giggled, his touch tickling with every movement. The sensation of the oil on my skin was slightly uncomfortable, but his love and devotion put me at ease. I felt a pressure lift from my shoulders as he finished his massage. He glanced at me curiously as he put on the socks for me.
“Thank you, master,” I said, descending into the blankets. “Why don’t you join me?”
Asra didn’t need to say anything as he enveloped himself in the blankets. His body was so close that I could see every detail. Everything about him brought peace to my mind. Yet, I felt a slight longing for more…
We both lay on our sides, face to face. It was awkward for a moment. Asra’s breathing was faint, and he closed his eyes as if about to fall asleep. I lifted my hand, letting it brush the hair from his face.
Asra seemed so serene. So calm. His gentle breathing was enough to tempt me to sleep. However, not just yet.
“Master,” I called as he let out a disgruntled moan. I gently ran my finger along his skin, causing his eyes to flutter open slowly. “Do you mind coming closer? I’m cold.”
Asra mumbled out a sleepy response that I didn’t quite hear. His arms caressed my side before tugging me into an embrace. His cheek rests delicately against mine. I felt every vibration from his voice as he said, “Is this okay?”
I hummed in agreement, my body sinking into my surroundings. It felt like I could stay here for eternity, forever bound by the comfort of Asra’s body. His touch was softer than anything I could ever experience. I spent a few moments in bliss.
“Master, are you awake?” I asked, feeling shame in waking him again. However, each time, he was patient with me. Asra never raised his voice or caused a commotion. He was always attentive to my wants and needs. “Can I kiss you?”
Asra chuckled, dropping a limp arm around my waist, “Don’t be silly.”
Putting on a brave front, I took his head into my hands. Asra’s eyes immediately darted open, disbelief ridden all across his face. I leaned forward, letting my lips graze his forehead. One gentle peck of a brief kiss, and I was satisfied. The sinking pit in my chest drifted away.
“You really make it hard to sleep when you do that,” Asra whispered bashfully. “Kiss me more, but do it right.”
I giggled as Asra beckoned me with his violet eyes. My lips opened slightly, but I hesitated, his sweet face disintegrating every ounce of confidence I had left. He looked very pleased with himself every second that passed by. Asra inched closer as if coiling for a strike. As his lips paused before me, I breathed in his scent, letting it consume me entirely. I closed my eyes, letting his lips clash with mine. It felt soft and tender, beyond anything I could’ve imagined. As Asra pushed against me, I felt the ties of our bond tighten. 
Asra peeled away, but his entire body seemed to motion for more. As we comprehended what just happened, time seemed to still until it was just the two of us. Nothing else mattered but us.
“Not bad for a first,” Asra chuckled, focusing solely on my lips. “How about we try this again?”
Our lips entwined as one, moving in waves of passion and zest. Asra’s motions became bolder and hungrier, the sounds of our kisses reverberating off the walls. 
“More,” Asra would say. “More.”
We spent the time entangled in the midst of endearment, kissing until the taste of Asra was fixed on my lips. My mouth tingled, urging me for more. Yet, I knew time was dwindling, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep with Asra with the muffled song of the rain.
Asra wrapped the blanket around us. His warmth cradled me and soothed every inkling of sickness that I could’ve possibly had. His presence was my panacea. 
“Good night, my soul’s delight,” Asra whispered, planting a final kiss on my lips. I melted into him, allowing my eyes to become heavier. As my mind flittered into sleep, I heard him utter one final phrase…
“I love you.”
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satureja13 · 2 months
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It was late when Kiyoshi and Jeb came home after the Valentine's Desaster. After they'd met Sai and Jack at the market, they went over to work on their secret project. Jeb's plan had been to leave their home to be out of the way and to not upset Saiwa and Jack with their presence. Their intentions were good, and if Jack and Sai hadn't cought them together, it would even have worked. Kiyoshi is sneaking around the houses to Jack's shop to make some cheese (as Noxee requested). Hopefully no one sees him this time.
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Even though it's painful to see how Jack had reacted when he saw him, Kiyoshi can understand him and Saiwa. They had a lot to endure because of him. How is he ever supposed to make it up to them? It's his fault that Saiwa and Jeb avoid each other for days now. All because they wanted to help him. Kiyoshi hopes that Saiwa never finds out that Kiyoshi's mind wasn't as far away as they thought during their fake relationship. He remembers everything...
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And as much as he appreciates Vlad and Jeb's help and comraderie - and them being by his side - he can't ask this of them. It only deepens the gorge between all of them. He has to talk to someone and ask if he can leave, so Jack can heal in peace. He will only upset Jack when they stay here together.
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What advantages does it have to be a diety if he can't even help his closest friends? All the sacrifices he made to be able to fulfill his duties for the Temple and the Resistance - futile. He messed up his relationship with his fated mate Jack and even had to betray Vlad to the Council. He can't go on like this. Dtui isn't allowed to have any contact to him but he has to talk to someone. How is he supposed to live with this guilt? He's tempted to go back into the Tree but his friends would keep on trying to get him out there again and this would only cause them more and more pain...
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Every second they spend here together is painful for all of them. Kiyoshi is also aware of that Jack is avoiding the Temple to let Arturo treat his pain. He's glad that Ji Ho helps him so much (and Kojin) but Ji Ho can only ease Jack's pain. He's not able to heal it. The pain is caused by their breakup. And it's impossible to be cured as long as they are divided...
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Kiyoshi also made a label for his cheese. The name of his brand will be 'Moonchild'. He'd seen a lot of full moons during the decades he'd spent in the Tree. These were the hardest times for him because that was when he missed Jack the most. His Moonchild 🐺
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'And if you try to save your soul I will torment you, you shall not grow old With every second and passing breath You'll be so alone your soul will bleed to death
Moonchild, hear the mandrake scream Moonchild, open the seventh seal Moonchild, you'll be mine soon child Moonchild, take my hand tonight
For all the sins you will commit You'll beg forgiveness and none I'll give A web of fear shall be your coat To clothe you in the night A lucky escape for you young man But I'll see you damned in endless night'
Moonchild - Iron Maiden (Link above leads to a live performance since there is no official MV. I started to listen to Iron Maiden back in the 80s and they are still pure magic for me.)
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From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🛺 'Home happy Home' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28
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intothehandsoffate · 3 months
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Hyperspecific poll!!
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