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copias-sewer-rat · 6 months

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IN HIS IMAGE [SECONDO x f!reader] CHAPTER III

While you are in search of a new book to read, Secondo will continue to test the reach of the lust ritual.

Apologies for how short this chapter is. This is the middle chapter and it will be conecting to the next one and the subsequent finale. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it!

tw/tags: smut. +18 warning, established relationship, spicy literature, semipublic sex (kinda?), thigh fucking, teasing, p in v, brief mention of cunnilingus, catholic defiance (very brief), pillow fucking, m/f relationship. 2.7K words

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The library is empty, not many people visit it so early in the morning, but you needed to get a new book. You are looking for something very specific and it is taking a while to find it. You have checked every bookshelf, even asking the librarian for its location, but it seems impossible to find its whereabouts.

You are about to give up when you suddenly see a very worn out spine with the title almost faded. Curiously, you get close and grab it with care. The title read ‘Ms. Finley’s big adventure’. That was it! You almost laugh out loud when you read the title. It seems to be taken out from a child’s book, but of course, it isn’t. Lately, you have been leaning towards the more spicy tomes of your own bookshelf, and you have devoured them all in a few weeks. The romantic plot mixed with the nasty descriptions of sex made you swoon every time. Secondo himself doesn’t understand what lures you to them, but he gets extremely happy when you get to a particularly horny scene and need to jump to his bones to quiet the ache.

There is no much time left until the library gets a bit more lively, but you do want to start the book immediately, so finding your favorite spot in the library, a tiny desk on the corner with just enough light to read, you settle to read the first chapters of the book:

‘The night was fast approaching and Ms. Lena Finley needed to find a place to rest. She had escaped just in time from the grasp of his lover, the priest of Fallengrace, father Lucius Viper. But for how long could she avoid him? In the distance, a small tavern welcomed her with smoke coming out from its chimney and a warm light emanating from the windows. Just in time, a storm was approaching. She hasted her horse and in a few more minutes they arrived to their destination. The place looked welcoming enough, but what she needed the most was a good bed and a nice sleep. The bed was comfortable, a bit softer than she liked, but good nonetheless. She covered herself with the sheets when it suddenly started to rain. The gentle sounds of the drops against the window made her more sleepy than she was and soon she was drifting into slumber.

Memories of her forbidden love appeared in front of her, his warm body, his beautiful auburn hair, his two radiant green orbs that shone even brighter when he saw her. And oh… his member… how his enormous member ached when he entered her. He made her feel so good, so loved. But their love was forbidden. She could never forgive herself if she became the cause of his demise. She could not bare either being so agonizingly close to him and not being able to be with him. That’s why she ran, that’s why she was hiding from everything.

She had made it far in the couple of days she had been gone. Lena would find a place to work, a place to start over, but of course, she was sad. She loved Lucius with all her heart and her tears started to fall when she thought sleep was near. Her sobs echoed through the silent room, until it wasn’t silent anymore. Some quick paced steps approached the room, then silence. Lena was scared, maybe they had found her, maybe it was all over. A couple of knocks suddenly broke the silence.

“Lena, it is me… please I know you are there… please…” It was Lucius! He had found her, how?

With caution, she got out of bed and stood in front of the door. Her breath was heavy and her silky nightgown was doing nothing to protect her from the cold. Slowly, she opened the door to find a drenched Lucius standing right in front of her. His hair wet, his eyes sad and with dark bags under them, but once he saw her, a small light flickered on them, as if life had returned to him.

“My love…” Lucius launched forward, hugging Lena as she was made of smoke. “Please, don’t go, don’t leave me. My soul aches for you, I am lost if you are not beside me…”

“Lucius… but your position, your responsibilities. I could never be the reason for your demise, my love.” Lena whispered against his neck, hugging him back. The water dripping from his clothes sticking to her nightgown, but the familiar heat emanating from him felt so welcome to her chilling soul.

“I don’t care, I only want you. Fuck the church, fuck them all from trying to make you go away. I will never forgive them.”

“Dear, please, don’t say that. I know how important it is to you, I know how much you love God.” Lucius hugged her even tighter.

“No, not as much as I love you, never as much as I love you…”

They kissed then, slow, deep, all the emotions unspoken poured into the embrace. Lucius grabbed Lena’s back and went upward until he found her neck and then her cheeks, deepening the kiss. He moved slightly forward, not breaking the contact as he closed the door with his foot. She understood then, she felt the same, they both needed each other, right there and then.’

It has been only twenty minutes since you have started reading the book and it was already getting to the good stuff. Suddenly, your phone buzzes. A message from Secondo:

‘Tesoro, have you found what you were looking for?’

‘I have, I am reading a bit in the library.’

‘Oh, I figured. Can you stay there a bit longer? I am going to be busy.’

‘Yeah, sure. Do you need anything?’

‘Not really, well… just don’t make much noise, you know the librarian gets when she hears unwanted noises.’

‘Caro, what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Niente, just teasing, I know how you get when you read those books my dear…’

You blush, trying to come with a witty comeback but Secondo seems to have disconnected from the chat, leaving with the last word. He is acting weird for sure, planning something. Nothing you can do for now but continue reading.

‘Lucius drowned her breath with his passion, trying to consume her like the forbidden fruit everyone said she was. It didn’t matter to him, he was going to sin, he was going to become the worst sinner if that meant that they could be together forever. He sat her gently on the bed and took a good look. Her hair looked so soft and so did her skin, the droplets of rain that had drenched him had transferred to her, falling through her arms and between her breasts. The outfit she was wearing was also wet, sticking to her skin, hugging her curves. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon.

Lena laid on top of the bed, extending her arms over her head, he gown rising over her knees and reaching her covered core. Lucius stood standing, right in front of her, looking at her with a hungry gaze, thinking of all the things he wanted to do to her. Them. he knelt down, like he always did, ready to pray, ready to pull his whole devotion into the one he loved the most. Delicately, he grabbed the elastic of Lena’s panties and pulled down, Lena herself raising her hips to allow for a better access. Once off, Lucius got close, inhaling the sweet scent that emanated from her. She was so ready, so wet, so fucking perfect. His nose brushed her core, his breath hitting her like a cold breeze in the summer heat. Then, his mouth enveloped her entire cunt, sucking and licking, he was desperate for her nectar. His tongue swept up and down, sometimes circling her clit-’

A jolt of pleasure kicks you suddenly. You know you are wet, you know you are horny. That is no excuse however to feel a dick brushing your folds. It cannot be. You look down and gasp, a glistening blue dick is just sliding through your cunt. That motherfucker. How was Secondo doing that? Did the lust ritual had more reach than you thought? It was all so new and unknown, you hadn’t found any accounts from people that had attempted the ritual before so it was all a shot in the dark. It had served you well before, but this? This was completely unexpected, not unwelcome, just surprising.

You see Secondo’s dick fully erect, glistening with precum, thrusting slightly and making you moan at the contact. You don’t know what he is fucking, but the position is making you want more, then you remember where you are. You are in public, any minute now someone would be getting close to you, looking for a book. You had to flee. Standing up you see your predicament, the floating shiny member of your lover was still there, continuing its lustful motion. You were trapped, everybody would see so you have to take this as quietly as you can, there would be time for revenge later.

Secondo lays on top of your shared bed, completely naked, smirking like the devil that he is and fucking a pillow. He is imagining you, seated on a chair of the library, he knows exactly where, he knows how much you like that seat so he can picture you so clearly. He closes his eyes and your image is so real, you are hunched over, the book in your hands, your eyes wide shut and your breath quick and ragged. His thrusts continue, the pillow feels like your cunt, your folds, wet and hot. He is not going to enter you today, he knows you could not take that much without moaning his name, so he is going to fuck your cunt.

You know what he wants, you are coating him entirely, but the fact that he is not entering you is driving you nuts. His tip is hitting your entrance and the length of his cock brushing your clit… You close your eyes and try to focus on how the fuck not to moan as loud as you want. Involuntarily, you close your thighs, clenching them around Secondo’s length and you can feel him twitching, the contact surely made him gasp. The image of his naked body fills you then, his elbows on the mattress, his knees too, he has fallen over from the unexpected contact of your thighs.

‘Cazzo!’ You can hear on the back of your mind.

‘Two can play at this game, my dear… You underestimate me.’ You think and the rumbles of a low chuckle bless your ears. You are not talking to each other, it is impossible, but the ideas, you minds, they are connected somehow. What the fuck was that ritual?

‘I could never, you are too much of a needy slut for me to underestimate you’ The thought hits you and you blush deeply ‘Now be good and let me fuck you a bit, sì? And be quiet, we don’t want t get you in trouble, do we?’

‘When I get you-ah!- my revenge is going to be slow and painful, I promise…fuck!’ You think, hoping it reaches Secondo, his movements starting again, giving some needed attention to your clit.

‘I wouldn’t want it any other way, tesoro mio… I really want you to pour all your frustration into me, you know I can take it… as-I-know-you-can-take-mine.’ The last words of the sentence marked with a heavy thrust each, which makes you clench the table in front of you, turning you knuckles white.

The glistening ghostly cock in between your thighs quickens the pace and you hear the wet sounds of your drenched cunt letting the member in and out of your folds and thighs. You want to moan, you want to whimper and you want to fucking scream Secondo’s name. Without being able to avoid it, and after a particularly rough thrust, the book you are holding falls from your hands onto the floor. The sound of a woman hushing makes you turn white, you were so lost in the pleasure and focusing about not letting out any sounds that you had neglected the book. You open your eyes widely at the sound, checking your surroundings with a panicked expression but there is no one around. The librarian must still be at her spot, but any more sounds and she could come check in any moment, you need to be more careful.

Slowly you rise from your chair, both of your fists gripping the wooden table. The always familiar tightening of your abdomen starts to make itself present. Grabbing with force, you arch your back and open your legs, if you wanted to get out of there, better to finish this fast. In your mind you hear a displeased groan, so you close your legs again, enveloping the ghostly cock.

‘Good girl…’ You hear, biting your lip to not let out any of the sounds you want to do. This is one of the most frustrating things Secondo has made you do, and he is going to pay it tenfold… but it feels so fucking good to have him like this, your little secret, he fucking you so good and you having to keep quiet… so sinful.

There is nothing you can do but close your eyes to fully concentrate on being quiet, Secondo laughs and you want to kick his ass, but maybe when he is finished fucking you. The brushing of your clit feels surreal, tingly and swollen into heavenly bliss. You want to come so bad, but when you instantly think about it, Secondo quiets you.

‘My dear, I do need to fuck you today. I need to feel you around me. Could you be quiet while I fuck that pretty pussy of yours, mhm? Will you be a good girl for your Papa?’ You want to fucking kill him, but you also want him to fuck you into an orgasmic puddle of lust.

‘Okay… Caro, please be quick, I am so close already.’

‘I know, tesoro mio, I can feel it, your tightness, your aching core is calling me… somehow. And I want nothing more than to get lost inside of you.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Stay there, but part your legs once more, I will take you from the back.’ You nod and comply.

Your forearms now rest on top of the desk, your fists clenched and hurting from the force you are doing. Secondo stands up from his place on the bed, and grabs your invisible hips, aligning himself once again with your entrance. Without warning he slides in with such ease you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

In and out, the rhythmic motions set by Secondo’s heavy thrusts swing your body forward, the table moving slightly, creaking under your force. At this point you do not care about the noise, even if it would mortify you if anyone found out about what was going on, but the lust was clouding your common sense, you just want to come.

‘Faster, please…’ You plead and without a word Secondo sets his motions even faster, your core already on fire, the blissful release wanting to get out.

‘Come for me, tesoro mio…’ and on cue, you do. Your walls clenching around his pulsating dick, your orgasm hitting like a tsunami. You put your lips together, a scream just at the back of your throat. Secondo continues his motions and with a couple more thrusts he is coming too. His seed feels hot and heavy, making you hum in pleasure, but there is nothing there as you glance down. He must have ruined a perfectly good pillow.

Trying to think of something for Secondo to hear doesn’t work anymore, you cannot hear him. The glowing dick in between your core faintly disappearing after he let out his release, it is the proof you need that this connection only works while the occurrence of the act of lust itself.

You are left there, siting and exhausted from the bliss of your orgasm. You know for sure Secondo is laughing, waiting for you to come back to tease you to no end. Well, we will see who teases who, after all, revenge is the sweetest treat.

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Italian translations:

Niente: nothing

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sailtomarina · 8 months

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The Artist's Daughter

She was here again.

Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him.

Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book.

The first time, he’d remained hidden, even going so far as to cast a disillusionment spell on himself. As surprised as he was to see a stranger, he supposed that if they were to wander any of the handful of libraries in the castle, this was the most appropriate one. It was situated on the ground floor not too far from the entrance and ballroom. This is where most of the muggle texts were organized, along with an unfortunate number of historical texts currently pertinent to Draco’s education.

She’d struck him as pretty, albeit in a muggle sort of way. She’d worn a simple lady’s gown in a pale yellow that contrasted with the rich dark curls tumbling down her back. Freckles sprinkled generously across her pale skin, markings his cousins would have glamoured over from birth. If he guessed correctly, they weren’t too far apart in age, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. That was another indicator of her humble breeding—he didn’t recognize her, not from school or from the countless balls and feasts he’d attended growing up. She couldn’t be a noble.

Today, she wore a dress in a lovely sage green with tiny white flowers embroidered along the scoop neckline. Draco imagined her eyes to match the green, or to perhaps blink at him in a hazel hue. He needed to know.

“Who are you?” His voice came out much harsher than intended.

He’d stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass, causing her to come to an abrupt stop before crashing into him. Startled eyes, irises dark brown and glinting with a hint of gold, gazed up at him. He’d been wrong about the colors.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there. I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” She stepped back to an appropriate distance from him, hugging a few books to her chest like armor.

“I’m Draco,” he said simply.

“The prince?” She didn’t sound too surprised, and eyed his unmistakable platinum hair.

“The very same. Why are you here in the library?” He’d finally tempered his tone to a more congenial one.

“I was told I could read whatever I liked in here. My father is painting your Grand Ballroom.”

Ah. She was the daughter of the painter.

His mother made it a point to elect a new project as soon as the previous one was complete. Previous years had resulted in a reworked Imperial Garden, which boasted rose gardens with every imaginable variety, both magical and non-magical. A formidable greenhouse was added shortly after, and the caretaker they’d employed soon obtained and cultivated the rarest of specimens for use in medicine and potions.

This year, Queen Narcissa turned her attention to the Grand Ballroom. She and his father adored hosting balls at every opportunity. What better way to display their love for art and beauty than to paint the entire ceiling and all its walls with depictions of magical beasts and figures from history. Circe. Merlin. Rasputin. Titania and Oberon.

Draco had assumed they’d hire a wizard, but he should have known that when it came to art, the king and queen saw no difference between magic or not. They simply wanted the best, and if that happened to be stationary art, then so be it.

“Find anything interesting?” He feigned interest, intent on keeping her talking. She was far more entertaining than pouring over volumes of ancestors alone.

She perked up at his question, and Draco could have sworn sections of her hair floated for just a brief moment.

Certainly not.

“I did! Did you know your castle is situated on top of the most powerful spot in the kingdom? All of the most prominent ley lines converge here underneath our feet!” She stomped one foot in emphasis. He wouldn’t be surprised if she went through several slippers a season if she always beat on them in that manner.

Wait.

Did she say “ley lines”?

“Are you a witch?” he blurted out, once again wincing at the gracelessness of his question. His mother would be mortified if she could hear him.

Hermione looked at him as if he was stupid. “Yes. Why else would your family let me wander around here by myself?”

“I don’t know, maybe because this is the one library of many where muggles are allowed? They do come here occasionally, muggle nobles, to garner favor with us,” he sputtered. He still couldn’t quite believe it. She was a witch. She was an unknown witch of his age. “Why don’t I know you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“My parents are muggles. I might have a squib ancestor somewhere, but as far as we know, I’m the only magic user in the Granger family. They sent me abroad for schooling since Hogwarts doesn’t currently accept muggle-borns.” She raised her eyebrows as if challenging him, but Draco couldn’t find it within himself to care about her background.

Hermione didn’t fawn on him like the other girls who had paraded themselves around him at school. She didn’t bat her eyelashes or titter behind a gloved hand. She didn’t wear gloves at all, her slender fingers wrapping around ancient texts as if relishing the touch of the worn covers. She probably thumbed the pages like his instructors told him never to do.

He would have thought that would annoy him, but he instead found himself intrigued in this muggle-born witch who liked reading, wore slippers instead of heels, and forewent glamours.

“Do you want to see the other libraries?”

His words were like a spell, as effective at getting her to brighten as a cheering draught.

“Oh, can I? The king and queen won’t mind?” She nearly vibrated in her excitement.

Her hair was definitely twice the size it was before.

“Not if you’re with me,” Draco said with a smirk, though that was partially a lie. If they’d wanted her in the other libraries, they would have explicitly told her.

“Well, in that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” She made to dash away, but he caught her shoulder before she could do so.

“Allow me,” he said with a gesture towards the books still clutched to her chest.

“Oh, I can carry these.”

“Please, I insist.” It wouldn’t do if either of his parents not only caught him skiving off lessons with the girl, but allowing her to carry around books like some commoner. When she finally let go of her findings, he cast a featherweight charm and looked at her knowingly. She flushed an adorable shade of pink.

“They really weren’t very heavy, but thank you anyways.”

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, only making it to two additional libraries. Hermione had only added to the pile of books floating behind Draco. He had to refresh the charm multiple times due to the sheer weight.

“You do realize you can’t remove these from the castle, don’t you?” He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her, that she’d continue to visit along with her father for as long as there was work. “How long will it take your father to finish the ballroom?”

“To answer your first question, yes, I do understand that I’ll need to reserve these books to read later. I was hoping you could help with that.” He nodded his agreement, even as he inwardly danced with joy at the thought that he now had a reason to continue seeing the girl. “And to answer your second, it could take my father years.”

“Years?” Draco was aghast at the approximation.

“Years,” she repeated. “If you go take a look, you’ll see why. He’s not even working alone—he has an entire team helping with the moldings and scenery.”

Trust his mother to pick a project of such staggering proportions that it required multiple artists. On the bright side, that meant he’d have a long time to get to know Hermione, even if it was only during the holidays.

“It’s a shame you can’t attend Hogwarts.” It wasn’t until she tutted in agreement that he realized he’d said the words aloud. If she’d been like any other girl, she would have pounced on any hint of attachment on his part. She, however, did not.

“Well, if the king’s word is true, then I may soon. In exchange for my father’s work, yours agreed to update Hogwarts’ policies. I love Beauxbatons, but I can’t disagree that staying closer to home would make everything a lot easier on my family.”

“If you do,” Draco said the words slowly, hardly believing they were coming out of his mouth but needing her to know before it was too late, “then you should ask to be sorted into Slytherin.”

His heart sank at the way her nose wrinkled and lips turned downward in a grimace. “Isn’t that house renowned for pureblood ideology? I was leaning more towards Ravenclaw, myself.”

He nodded somewhat agreeably. “Books and cleverness…you could certainly do worse. They’re not a bad lot, if you ignore their tendency to disappear into their studies. Though…” he trailed off, reluctant to give away his feelings again without assistance.

“Though it might mean we don’t see each other? I wouldn’t let that happen outside of exams,” she said offhandedly. “I’ll keep in mind what you said. Snakes can be quite clever, in a sneaky kind of way.” The pointed look she sent Draco reminded him of how he’d approached her in the first place.

“Quite.”

A gentle melody played in the air, noting the top of the hour and finishing with eight long chimes.

“And that’s my cue. Hold on to those for me, would you?” Hermione leaned up onto her toes, laid the palms of her hands atop his shoulders, and pressed a kiss onto one cheek, then the other.

Draco could do nothing but stand still in shock at her forwardness. Then he remembered where she went to school and the strange habits the people of that land practiced. He cleared his throat to cover his awkward silence, but the crooked smirk she wore proved the attempt useless.

“When will I see you next?” He realized how needy that sounded as it came out, and hastily continued,“Just so I know when to have them ready?”

She flitted to the doors and didn’t respond until she was nearly through them, “I’m sure you’ll find me!”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind her stack of books, the echoes of her soft lips on his face, and the sweet scent of apple blossoms in the air. Draco wondered if she had perhaps cast some sort of love spell on him. How else could he explain his complete lack of reservation around her, or why her humble origins didn’t matter to him like he thought they should?

Queen Narcissa found him still in contemplation shortly after, and was impressed at the amount of reading material gathered around him.

“My dragon, there you are! Wilfred said he’d sent you to recover texts on our family history ages ago.”

“Mother, did you know the painter has a daughter?”

Narcissa blinked as she processed the odd question. “Master Granger? Of course. Hermione is a lovely, bright little thing. I told her she could read whatever she liked in our First Library. Why do you ask?”

Her son continued to stare at the wall, and she had half a mind to cast a homenum revelio.

“Draco?”

He came to with a shake and gave her one of his rare, full smiles. “No reason. I think we’ll be wonderful friends. You should make sure Hogwarts changes their acceptance rules before school starts again.”

Bewildered and bemused, she stroked a hand over his hair, so like his father’s. “I take it the two of you met?”

“We did. These are all hers.” He gestured towards the books once more.

“And here I thought you’d finally taken an interest in your studies.”

He snorted and she nearly pinched him on the arm for his cheek. She made do instead with a tickle to his side. He ducked away from her with a laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. “Mother, please! That isn’t fair! You know all my weak spots.”

She desisted in her attack with another indulgent smile. “And don’t you forget it. Just be careful with Hermione, dear.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in confusion and she nearly sighed at his naivety. The young could be so oblivious, but she envied them their freedom.

She thought back on her own upbringing. The Blacks were more ancient and arrogant than even the royal family; her marriage to Lucius had been agreed upon at birth and as expected as the fact that clouds brought rain and Blacks were as pure as pure could be. She knew she was his from the beginning, and no amount of pining after others or imagining life in another place with a different name would change her fate.

Narcissa looked at her son, a near perfect replica of her husband aside from the softer grey eyes she’d bestowed upon him and his smile. He’d been so much like her at the start, but over the years he’d become more and more like his father. Now, today, he was like his younger self again.

She didn’t care what Lucius intended for his heir. She just wanted him to find happiness.

“True friends are difficult to come by, particularly for people of our station. I have a feeling that, if you nurture your relationship with Hermione, she’ll be someone worth keeping at your side.”

“What would father say?” he asked, caution and desire battling for domination on his face.

“He prizes power above all else.” This much was true. Lucius just happened to have a bit of a blind spot outside of magical families. “Apply yourself to your studies, help one another, and I’ll take care of Hogwarts and your father.”

Listening to his mother, Draco started to relax and let a bit of his earlier hope trickle back in. He wasn’t sure how Hermione had secured her approval, but she had. Greater deeds had been turned into ballads.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit terrifying sometimes?”

Narcissa smirked, immediately reminding Draco of wild curls and a smattering of freckles. The two women looked wildly different, yet they gave off a similar air of confident capability.

“I have been told. Once or twice.”

He made a note to tread carefully around Hermione in the future. If she turned out anything like his mother, he never wanted to be on the opposite end of her ire.

Oh, the feats they would accomplish together.

WC 2606

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 4 - Alternate Universe, September 22 - Royal AU

Cross-posted to AO3

I have half a mind to write a full story in this setting, since it spiraled into something I want to know more about. I didn’t think I used to have a thing for royal AUs, but maybe I do???

#dramione month #dramionemonth #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

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sneverussape · 2 months

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walpurgis

another one that's been in my drafts for a while. it's just a lil ficlet so don't expect much hehe

@greens-your-color prompt # 25: DEATH EATER (scenario 1)

summary: a group is taking over the Wizarding World's news by storm and severus is naturally curious

“Lily?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard of these? These Knights of Walpurgis?”

Lily turned to look at Severus only to give him a disdainful eyeroll. “What do you want to know about them for?”

“Well, who are they even?” Severus was more than a little curious, but he was also apprehensive.

“Nobody special. They’re just a bunch of people who believe in a load of malarkey.”

Severus frowned. That certainly wasn’t the description he expected. “Malarkey? Like what?”

This time, Lily granted him a heavy sigh from behind the heavy tome she was reading. “Honestly, Severus, you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the Prophet. They’re just a group acting grand. Rich tossers who have too much time on their hands.”

“But is it true though, that they have access to hidden magics and things?” Severus felt his fingers itch at the notion. He was already taking advanced lessons in both Potions and Transfiguration, with both Lucius and Andi’s support and none of McGonagall’s and Dumbledore’s knowledge, and he was eager to learn beyond what books held, although he was careful to never share the reason. The few people who mattered would figure it out soon enough, but he avoided voicing it out loud to avoid any pretenses of hope. He was convinced mixing modern medicine and magic was the key to managing or even completely curing his condition altogether. Very few wizards in the past had already done so but they were all at least a century old. He had vowed to himself that he would engage in the same practice to figure out a cure, or at the very least die in the attempt. But he wasn’t going to tell Lily that, of course.

He asked her instead, “Do they know things beyond the books and the stuff they teach us? Like deeper magics? Blood magic?”

“Who told you that?” Lily looked at him this time, a frown twisting her features.

“Lucius,” Severus said before he could even stop himself. When he saw Lily’s expression darken, he caught himself and backtracked. “Not that it means anything, he was just talking shop…keeping me interested throughout lessons. Oh, don't make that face, Lily!”

“You’re fourteen and not living in the Wizarding World, he shouldn’t be telling you that.” Lily had snapped her book shut and was already making her way out of the plush armchair she had settled in. “I’m telling Mum and Dad—”

“No—!” Severus blocked his sister before she could make her way out of their father’s study. This conversation certainly wasn’t going the way he wanted. He had thought it was a simple enough question. “You don’t have to tell them, Lils, c’mon, I was just curious…”

Lily had grown an odd shade of red, as though she was angry. But why? Severus didn’t understand.

“The Knights of Walpurgis,” she spat the name as though it left a bad taste on her tongue, and her voice had dropped down to a hiss, “is a dangerous group, Severus, and you shouldn’t discuss them so casually.”

This time, it was Severus’ turn to frown. He could feel his dreams crumbling to dust before his very eyes. “I thought you said they were just a bunch of tossers. Why are you making it sound like they’re more than that?”

Lily shook her head vehemently. “Forget I said it. Don’t talk about them, Sev. I mean it. Lucius should not be talking about them to you.”

“Why shouldn’t he?” Defiance surged within him; Severus had never really liked being told what to do, especially by his sisters. It just wasn’t in his nature. “He’s my tutor, it’s his job to tell me things.”

“Not about this he isn’t! You wouldn’t understand…”

He caught her insinuation immediately and felt his face grow hot. “Because I’m not at Hogwarts, you mean? Or in the Wizarding World? I’m as much a wizard as any of you lot!”

Lily looked as though she had been struck. Her eyes widened comically wide. “That’s not what I meant!” she said, although her expression said otherwise. Lily had always been a terrible liar.

“That’s what you wanted to say,” Severus said, unable to control the bitterness in his tone. “Out with it then, Lils. You probably don’t even see me as one of you, because I don’t go to school in a magical castle and learn amongst giants and goblins and pixies. I probably don't even hold a wand right in your eyes.”

This time, tears welled in Lily’s eyes, crystal against vibrant green. “That’s not true, stop it, Severus! I have never thought that, and I never will!”

His chest had grown tight and Severus felt like crying himself. He knew Lily wasn’t trying to be mean, but somehow he also couldn’t help but feel the stab of self-pity that came at his own accusation. If his own sister thought he was beneath knowing something that was apparently commonplace news in the Wizarding World, what did the other kids think? Did they think he was some sort of…some sort of second-rate freak? Did Lily?

Severus tilted his chin up as he sniffed. He looked down at Lily with what he hoped was an imperious glare as he said, “Forget I asked. I shan’t bother you about it again.”

He stood and turned to stomp out of the room, tuning out Lily calling out to him. He shouldn’t have asked her. He shouldn’t have asked any of them. He should have just asked Lucius. Lucius would know. Lucius always answered his questions. Lucius wouldn’t think he was a freak.

As he walked away, Severus unconsciously scrubbed at the tears that were gathering at the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.

#i actually had two scenarios for this story and that was sev still being curious about the DE aka Knights in this au #or lily joining them herself since she thinks they have the power to help severus and he's the one who sees through the bs of it all #both are very appealing storylines for me lol #the primary motivation is still the same and it's really being desperate enough to look for help to figure out a cure for severus' conditio #and yes lucius is his TUTOR lmao #one of several #lulu still takes a shine to him and sees his Potential probs #anyway either scenario works in the universe #evans!severus #au #my fic #snape #lily evans #hp

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motherfuckingmaneater · 10 months

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What if Voldemort lived and Bellatrix died?

He rages and screams and blasts the wretched plump old witch who took his Bella from him to ash and dust. He destroys her whole family and kills every last one of them. He slashes down with emerald fury at Harry Potter at his disgusting mudblood friend as she weeps over her blood traitor boyfriend. He destroys everyone in sight. He kills McGonagall, Shacklebolt and Slughorn - his anger can not be matched.

He slaughters everyone in sight, his magic is catastrophic.

He is a ruin of a man in that very moment and he is more fearsome than ever to behold. Hogwarts crumbles to nothingness, the earth beneath him cracks. He kills his own next - Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy feel the white hot fury of Lord Voldemort. He tortures Rodolphus Lestrange until he begs for mercy but he shows none - after all, why her and not him?

In the days to come, his mind whispers with her as he recites ancient magics, reliving every dark dastardly tome he knows. He recites it in his sleep too, fingers clutching at night at the space beside him and unable to find her. Her death leaves a gaping hole within him he can't understand but he is determined. Delphini is hard to look upon, she has her mother's smile. He takes some small comfort in it until comfort isn’t enough. He needs more. He needs her.

The whispers of her become harrowing, her voice, her magic, it's spilling into his very being. All these years later, she has become part of him. Only her loss has proven as much. How dare death take what is his. How dare death wound him this way now twice in his life. She is not Merope, her death cuts deeper, grazes some part of him he doesn’t understand. He is too far gone to understand it, to fathom it as anything more than anger.

He is selfish in this deed. He is so very good at dark magic. He brings her back. His Bella. His. He kisses the space between her throat and collarbone, he relishes the feel of her in his bed, in his clutches. For a time he is at peace. For a time the strange ache in his chest and stomach and head abates. She is warm. . . until she is not. She’s slipping from him again soon.

It’s not bad there, she tells him, I think I belong there now, not here.

No. You’re mine, he snarls.

So he pulls her back from death’s cruel hands. The next time he pulls her back she is not as warm, she doesn’t feel as well put together, but she’s still his. She still smiles and laughs, she still clutches his fingers and kisses his knuckles the same way, though some part of her feels empty.

Let me go, she pleads, I’m not meant to be here.

No. You’re mine, this time the words are choked, as though he’s begging, you’re mine.

He doesn’t care. He will be selfish. Bellatrix is his. She has always been the one constant in his life. She’s the only person who ever loved him enough to stay. She’s even here now because she loves him. Still she slips further and further from him, every time he breaths he reinforces magic inside of her. He is puppeteering her before long. Her memories begin to fade. Her grey eyes begin to turn white.

Please, she says quietly one night, cupping his cheek in her palm and brushing her thumb across his marble skin, beneath a scarlet eye, let me go. I won't be gone forever, I will find a way to be with you always.

No, he whispers, his voice cracking, I need you here.

This magic begins weighing heavily on him, such is the price of mortality now. He is mortal after all, there is nothing left of him. He is fractured and she is separating from him. She kisses him but her lips are cold, her tears are cold. His selfishness is wounding her. He is a cruel man, but he won’t be cruel to her. She reminds him he has Delphini and he insists though the girl is brilliant it is not the same.

She tells him to teach her as he once taught her. She tells him to bury her with her father and his stomach wrenches. She tells him one final time that she loves him — even in death she loves him — and the words catch in his throat. He doesn’t need to say it. He’s never needed to say it. She smiles, she says it again.

I love you.

Then he lets her go.

He buries her himself with a face as still as stone. Black marble — as is the custom for all the blood of the Black family. The marble can only move on his command. The grave to her right reads CYGNUS BLACK III. The grave to her left reads WALBURGA BLACK. She is where she belongs. The world may be his but it feels empty without her.

For a time he goes without her, but soon she appears within his dreams, shrouded by a spectral cloak of smoky black. She is a vision at first, a ghostly illusion, her voice not quite reaching his ears. She tells him one night she is practising and she is traversing the space between their minds. She is trying. He wants her to try harder. He wants to scream and bellow and be selfish. Instead he is patient.

She is happier in his dreams, but he wakes feeling empty. She begins to visit him regularly and emptiness begins to abate. They talk about their magic. They talk about life. They talk about nothing. More often than not they talk about Delphini — about her magic, her power, her beauty in darkness. She always has tears in her eyes when they talk about her, she misses her girl. She practices magic for her beyond the veil.

Her kisses are warm in his dreams, her fingers are strong and tight on his robes. Her pulse is quick and heavy. He can taste it beneath his tongue. He holds her tightly and he feels the light weight of her body vividly. He wakes still feeling her touch, hearing her whispering Master and sighing against his skin, it leaves him panting and breathless.

On mornings after the nights he hasn’t seen her, Delphini tells him with a gleeful smile mama visited me! She tells him mama is teaching her magic, ancient magic of the House of Black. It is strange, this connection, but it is growing strong and deep. Delphini knows things only Bellatrix knew, things she wouldn’t otherwise know. The nights she is with him he tells her Delphini is connecting deeply to her, that she practices ancient rites Bellatrix once practiced. She is proud. She is with him always.

He will settle for dreams he decides, because they are more than dreams. Their connection runs deep even in death. He laughs aloud one morning, shouting and screaming to death —— she bested you! Bellatrix Black bested you!

If anyone could do it, it would’ve been her. No one could love deeper than the oceans below or the stars above, no one could stare death in the face and say fine, take me, but I’ll always be his first.

#bellamort #bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #bellatrix black lestrange #lord voldemort #the most noble and ancient house of black #tom marvolo riddle #delphini black gaunt #delphini black #delphini #maneaters musings #maneaters answered

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omgkalyppso · 2 months

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Five Character Associations - Étoile

Tagged by @razrogue, thank you! ♪(^∇^*)

emotions

homesickness

ease

indignation

love

relief

colors

electric blue

snow white

rose red

warm black

aurora purple

scents

cold

pine trees

fresh blood

burnt sage

garlic, butter and onions cooking in a pan

objects

a wolf stuffed animal

a barrel full of training weapons

a holy symbol to Auril, made to be easily concealed or removed

a bottle of oil intended for sensual intimacy

a heavy tome, riddled with ice and frost

body language

crossed arms, head tilted, attentive

being back to back

hugged tightly with a smile hidden in a shoulder

slouched with a shield arm raised protectively; even in a shield's absence

a hand on a chest, measuring, admiring and soothing a heartbeat and breathing

aesthetics

a half-used candle by a window which rattles against the ravages of a snow storm

bloodied fingers releasing an arm they were clinging to

darkness surrounded by natural stone with ice under foot

love being a stronger governing force than any darker corruption

blood beading on skin where a fresh tattoo is being applied

I'll tag @the-eldritch-it-gay, @cherrypikkins, @lucius-the-sinful, @boghermit, @bosspigeon, @luinen-bluewater, @iron-bullogna, @dustdeepsea, @bloodcathedrals and YOU.

#long post #oc tag: étoile

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cherrywritter · 2 months

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White - Background

4ª semana de dezembro

Estava caminhando pelo Planeta Diário a convite do editor chefe para uma entrevista sobre a base da Wayne na cidade e as novas diretrizes que estavam sendo aplicadas. Isso também incluía a minha emancipação e minha recente formação. Conhecendo bem todas as histórias que Lois e Clark contavam, aquela era, com toda certeza, uma grande armadilha.

Adorava armadilhas.

- Foi inovador da sua parte levantar o nome da sua família naquela corte, senhorita Wayne.

- Não inovei de forma alguma, senhor editor. Era meu trabalho de conclusão de curso e fiz apenas o meu papel como aluna na esperança de me formar. Agora se os jornalistas reverenciaram o nome da minha família em vez do meu nome ou das minhas habilidades, isso seria de responsabilidade da sua escolha, não concorda? Como editor chefe, é o senhor que escolhe as matérias e a linguagem em que elas serão destacadas. – Ele sorriu, contrariado.

- Sobre a base Wayne e as novas diretrizes que estão sendo aplicadas, o que pode nos dizer?

- Que são nada além de inovação, senhor. Meu pai e a empresa sempre tiveram grandes problemas com fraudadores e corruptos dentro de cargos nobres e de força. Uma linha infinita de funcionários, diretores e acionista que conspiravam contra a empresa. Nada mais justo que identificar os erros e eliminá-los enquanto há tempo de corrigir. Claramente se tiver um funcionário que está vazando informações para outra empresa de comunicação, o senhor irá demiti-lo, correto? É o mundo dos negócios, não uma crueldade em larga escala. Queremos confiança entre os nossos e fidelidade. É assim que qualquer empresa trabalha.

- Mas seu pai a emancipou para tomar conta dos negócios. É sinal de que Bruce Wayne esteja perdendo a mão para comandar a empresa e tomar decisões? Além disso, é nova demais para comandar uma empresa. Tem apenas dezesseis anos.

- Quantos alunos você chegou a conhecer que realizavam um curso de medicina e outro de advocacia ao mesmo tempo e, principalmente, mantendo excelentes notas em ambos os cursos com grade avançada? Senhor White, a minha emancipação teve o único objetivo de ter alguém da família para comandar a empresa na ausência do meu pai. A confiança dele sobre mim é tamanha que ele deixa as empresas e as decisões em minhas mãos. E, por mais que eu tenha carta branca sobre o assunto, tenho o dirigente Lucius Fox ao meu lado para tomarmos decisões em conjunto.

- Então as melhorias aplicadas e o melhor posicionamento nas ações e negociações vêm devido as suas capacidades técnicas?

- Pode-se dizer que sim, mas não que fiz tudo sozinha.

- E no momento seu pai está viajando a negócios, já que a senhorita veio inaugurar a reforma da empresa e reabrir as portas.

- Sim. Ele é um homem muito ocupado e comigo ele pode ficar mais tranquilo para gerenciar eventos como este. – Olho para o relógio e sorrio. – Meu tempo acabou, senhor White. Tenha uma boa tarde.

- Ainda não acabei, senhorita Wayne. – Ele protestou ao me ver levantar.

- Mas eu acabei. Tenho uma agenda a cumprir. Tome cuidado com o que irá escrever em sua matéria. Não se esqueça de que sou advogada e não terei medo de processar o senhor em caso de calúnia, difamação ou qualquer coisa parecida.

Caminhei pelos corredores do Planeta Diário sendo observada por Lois e Clark em suas mesas. Dei a eles um breve sorriso e segui para o elevador. Uma última olhada para trás fez com que eu visse a cara de frustração de Perry White. Meu pai iria adorar ver a cara dele.

Após o almoço, realizei a reinauguração da cede das Empresas Wayne em Metropolis. Tudo ocorreu perfeitamente bem. Um pequeno buffet com comes e bebes, palestra incentivadora aos antigos e novos funcionários, encerramento e convite para o retorno ao trabalho. Todos, naquele ponto, já estavam a par das novas diretrizes, regras e punições que seriam aplicadas.

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dramioneasks · 8 months

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HP FESTS: Dramione Month (Part 2)

Dramione Month 2023:

Three Weeks and Five Days by AutumnWeen - M, 5 chapters - “We need to talk,” he said pointedly, not for the first time. Hermione tried to free her hand from his, but he just tightened his grip. She pursed her lips and said, “There’s nothing to talk about,” risking sounding like an arrogant brat. “Yes, there fucking is, Hermione.” Draco sneered as he pushed himself closer to her. She parted her lips and felt a rush of blood to her centre at the mention of her name. All the memories from their night together flooded her mind. Occlumency had never been in the cards for Hermione; she just could not clear her bloody head. Regardless, she had tried her hardest to lock away everything that happened between them a week ago in someone else’s room. The sounds, the smells, the taste of him on her, how she tasted on him, the feel of their bodies pressed together… And here was Draco Malfoy ruining it all, performing wandless magic with the touch of his hand on hers and her name on his lips, casting a Bombarda on her mental wards, fucking everything up. Or An unlikely friendship, a car ride, a half-baked plan, and a last-minute decision that will change everything.

The Artist's Daughter by MarinaJune - G, one-shot - She was here again. Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him. Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book.

a promise to the moon by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - The Death of Queen Narcissa Malfoy forced Prince Draco Malfoy onto the thrown at a time when he had never expected the news to arrive. His father, the passed King Lucius Malfoy, who had married into the family had been passionate about his wife’s love for their country. She had a duty and she performed. She had worked tirelessly for her country even to the day she died. Now, it was up to Draco and his wife, Hermione, to work religiously for their country.

The Wrong Side of the Aisle by violently_verbose - M, one-shot - “You know exactly what I’m talking about Granger.” Resting his hand on the entrance, he turns towards her, trapping her against the doorframe. Her breath hitches, and she curses her body for giving her away. “I thought my silence was pretty clear,” she replies. “We’re done. We never should have started in the first place.” His eyes flicker with something foreign as his pupils shrink, gray irises dominating his cold gaze. “Right." He nods and snatches away the cigarette dangling from her lips, before marching past her. He’s almost out the door when- “They’re gone!” Pansy bursts into the lavatory. Makeup mingling with her tears, her voice is raw and close to collapse. “The groomsmen. Neville. They’re all gone!” OR: a chaotic panville wedding in which a wronged witch, the very man who wronged her, and an unhinged remembrall save the day.

Incendio by art_emissss - T, one-shot - If there ever was a time to believe in what his parents taught him, that people like her were nothing but thieves, nothing more than filth under his shoes, it was now, because his world was shifting and he desperately, frantically clung to the only familiar thing in it. It wasn’t his fault that his hold began slipping. Or: the one where Draco spends Hermione's birthdays with her—without her knowledge.

Starting Over by MarinaJune - G, one-shot - A re-imagining for DHR Month of the end of the Battle of Hogwarts where Draco and Hermione reunite.

Nott, My Problem by shheart - T, WIP - Draco doesn’t date because the only one he wants would never want him. But what happens when Theo Nott—his supposed best friend—starts dating her? “Her” being Hermione Granger, because of course it is.

Birthday Breakfast by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - “I suspect she’ll wake up soon, my star. The food will keep until then.” Humor laced his words. Hermione could just imagine Scorpius’ lip jutting out in response. “But—” “But,” Draco emphasized, “We could try a spell to help her wake.”

The Wounds of Time by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - Someone once said, “Time heals all wounds.” Draco wanted to find this unknown, probably a muggle who’d died long ago, and kill them again for good measure. Well, maybe not kill. Hermione wouldn’t like that and it would look bad, a former Death Eater murdering some idiot muggle, no matter how justified the reasons.

Hermione Granger: Auntie of the Year by MsPolaPotter - M, one-shot - A slice of life story in which Hermione throws herself a birthday party for her niblings.

Gorgeous by arielle_reads - M, one-shot - It's Hermione's 30th birthday and instead of happily celebrating with her boyfriend, Roger Davies, he's too busy shagging some other witch in the loo. There's only one thing left to do. Take Malfoy up on his offer to make the wanker jealous and spend the rest of the night dancing with the most gorgeous man there.

Empty Halls by Serpent_Sortia - T, one-shot - Hermione wanders the halls alone on her birthday, and just who should she run into?

Incandescent Celebrations by Biirdiee_Rose - E, one-shot - Draco may hate going out (especially with Gryffindor's), but there wasn't much he wouldn't do for Hermione Granger. An exceptional witch deserves exceptional celebrations. And he'll do just about anything to ensure that she's happy and satisfied.

Pledged Desires by writes_and_wrongs - E, one-shot - “What if you don’t want the man behind the notes?” he asked. “What if you want someone safer?” Her heart fluttered. Safer? “I’m no saint,” he confessed. There was a lethal seriousness to his voice. The hair rose on the back of her neck. “I would ruin anyone for you,” he said. “I’d do anything to keep you safe and happy.” The moisture left her mouth. “If you choose me, I will completely possess you. And I won’t be able to stop.”

Seven by nyle_bd - G, one-shot - Draco Malfoy recalls seven moments over seven years that lead to a fateful meeting, seven years later.

Inside Out and All Tied Up by MarinaJune - M, one-shot - Harry’s mouth hung open, one foot still in the bathroom behind him, as he watched his best friend barrel down the hall. He would’ve been tempted to consider Ron’s scream some kind of Samhain prank to help set the mood for the party currently raging on downstairs, but there was nothing fake about the way his freckles stood out even more than usual in his pale skin or the visible white of his wide eyes. Harry couldn’t recall seeing this kind of naked fear on him since their school days. Ron’s escape was partially impeded by his own costume of what appeared to be a blast-ended skrewt, if the sparks coming out his butt were any indication. If he’d worn a mask at some point, it was long gone, now replaced with the perfect picture of a Ron Weasley completely terrified out of his mind. So, Harry did what Harry did best—he charged towards the threat.

A New Year's Eve to Enjoy by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - The start of this new year marked Hermione’s first as the British Minister of Magic. The role was 20 years in the making, after one marriage and one divorce, strategic promotions up the government ladder, and several landmark cases won in the Wizengamot. As the youngest Minister in history, a woman, and a muggle-born, Hermione was a household name. She had never felt lonelier.

A Calendar for Firsts by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - Somewhere along the way, her calendar had lost its function as a means to plan ahead. Draco was delightfully unpredictable, and she found herself retroactively marking the dates and events she never wanted to forget. There was one date he allowed her the chance to set.

The First Time Draco Malfoy Crashed a Weasley Wedding by Sparkly_Bee - E, 2 chapters - Draco Malfoy meets Hermione Granger in a pub to apologize only to end up falling in love with her just days before she is to marry Ron Weasley.

The Burning Ache of Firsts by Wanderingfair - T, one-shot - “Hermione Jean Granger, you’re the first thing I’ve ever really wanted. I want to be the first thing you wake up with and the first kiss to start your day. I want to have all your firsts from here on out..." OR The one where Draco surprises Hermione inside the Restricted Section.

Blissful Comfort by yoursdraco - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger-Malfoy’s pregnancy had been a rollercoaster of emotions and struggles. As she entered her third trimester, her nights became increasingly restless. The discomfort, the anticipation, and the worry about becoming a mother weighed heavily on her mind. Thankfully, she has her husband, Draco Malfoy, by her side, providing comfort and support when she needed it most.

In a World of Our Own by MsPolaPotter - T, one-shot - The road to redemption was long and grueling, but Draco didn't expect to have her by his side.

#dramione month #fests/exchanges/challengers

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minimutty · 4 months

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i love the idea that these two probably just hang out together in their free time, they're pals C:

#minis ramblings #fire emblem #fe #fire emblem heroes #feh #lucius #libra #oh raven is busy lets go see what the bestie is doing #i love that theyre considered vicious in battle #tome lucius when #id use up my 1620 orbs for him i swear #if they can remember he exists to pu him in a comic #they can give him an alt #do it

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gladdyator18 · 10 months

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Okay, so I decided to make extra characters of some of my Fire Emblem OCs, and these two are the siblings of the one and only Justin Lorenz Laverre!

Point of reference/inspiration (Kent) | Point of reference/inspiration (Nella)

Left Image: Meet Kent Lucius Laverre, heir to House Laverre. Kent is the son of Lady Whitney, older brother of Nella and adoptive brother, Justin. Kent is a very suave and kind person. He's sometimes flirty, but not as much as Justin. Kent is a strong individual, being a wyvern rider wielding his late father's axe. Kent is also very studious, having a knack for translating ancient tomes. He also has an eye for fashion, always helping his sister with her outfits. When Justin was adopted, the young boy was very distant and nervous around him, but Kent assured him that he was safe here, and that he could always come to him if he was ever in danger. Years later, and the two brothers are as thick as thieves, pranking each other, training together; everything brothers should do. When the Laverre House heard of the prophecy, they thought nothing of it since the Laverre House was already on good terms with the royal family.

Right Image: Nella Opalescent Laverre, third-in-line to House Laverre. Nella is the daughter of Lady Whitney and is the younger sister of Kent and her adoptive brother, Justin. Nella is a very energetic young girl who loves exploring. She's always found frolicking in the fields behind the manor. Following in her mother's footsteps, Nella became a mage. When Justin was adopted, she was only a toddler at the time. She would always want to be around him no matter what. As the years went by, the two became very close. Their favorite pasttime is pranking Kent at any moment they can. In some moments, Nella could see that Justin was very protective of her, just like Kent. She couldn't be happier to have two older brothers to call her own. When she heard about the prophecy, she couldn't understand why someone would dethrone Ernestia's princess when she becomes queen (views Gladiola as an older sister).

I loved making these two a lot! This may or may not be my last art piece before Saturday (going away to Miami). Hopefully I can get one more art piece out before then, so stay tuned to find out!

#gladdy draws #fanart #my ocs #fire emblem fanart

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dhr-ao3 · 8 months

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The Artist's Daughter

The Artist's Daughter https://ift.tt/TczpShn by MarinaJune She was here again. Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him. Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book. Words: 2609, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 18 of Dramione Month 2023 Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Royal Prince Draco Malfoy, Queen Narcissa Black Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Narcissa wears the pants here, Fluff, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Narcissa Black Malfoy via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/ygEH6rB September 22, 2023 at 11:53PM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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saintsenara · 1 year

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Scylla and Charybdis, please! And also Bellatrix x Severus (I do hope it's crack, because the potential for humour is sky-high, but also I hope it's not because the potential for angst is also sky-high)

thank you for the ask!

[work-in-progress game here]

bellatrix/snape

is it crack? is it angst? yes.

it's going to be set during half-blood prince, when both bella and snape's positions are in flux - she's becoming increasingly less important to voldemort, he's only getting more so - and when they're both embroiled in a circle of mistrust about draco and his mission.

the crack comes from the fact that they have an obsessive need to be in competition with each other [i die at how desperate they are to roast each other in spinner's end, and, i regret to say, snape definitely wins - the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is" has me shrieking every time]; neither believes a thing the other says; and they both have absolutely unmatched victim complexes. textbook enemies to lovers, extremely healthy stuff here.

they may also both be lord voldemort's side-chick/side-dick, which doesn't help anything.

they do both hate sirius, which does.

the angst? well, snape's life is obviously one of profound tragedy, but bella's isn't much better. unlike a lot of bella fans, i don't see her as having anything close to a happy relationship - romantically or platonically - with rodolphus, her parents are dead, she's second in narcissa's life to lucius and draco, she's estranged from andromeda, her only close acquaintance is a sociopath, the rest of the death eaters seem to resent her, and so on. i imagine her as profoundly lonely, and, while that's not a particularly healthy shared trait to sustain a relationship with, snape is probably the only person in her life that might actually understand that.

scylla and charybdis

have a snippet!

Lestrange’s hand was on the small of his back, ushering him into the poky attic apartments where the Dark Lord lurked.

Severus’ first thought, hastily dismissed, lest it cause him to meet the wrong end of a wand, was that the rooms must have belonged to a woman. They were what his father would have called ‘fruity’, devoid of the brown velour and toneless wood which made up the front room at Spinner’s End. Instead, the air was made glittery by the refraction of sunlight off jewel-toned damasks and coloured leather and a huge amount of gold. The walls were filled by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves - Severus’ heart sung at just how giddily illegal many of the tomes were - and the other flat surfaces - the desk, the spindly end tables by the sofa, the windowsill - were crammed full of trinkets. Several of these, gem-studded and obviously ancient, trembled with dark magic, and Severus felt himself drawn towards them like a fisherman into a siren’s lure, but others were more mundane. The Dark Lord seemed to collect shells and sea-glass, and to have a fondness for paperweights.

None of the wanted posters which peppered Diagon Alley had ever seen fit to mention such a thing.

[He would spend hours arguing with Dumbledore in the Second War, pointing out that their side’s failure to humanise Lord Voldemort - to turn him into an ordinary man, with plebeian tastes and a cockney accent he could never entirely disguise, rather than the unstoppable force of pure magic the papers reported him as being - was an error; pointing out that Dumbledore’s jealous guarding of the Dark Lord’s real name and background - far less of a secret among the older generation of Death Eaters than the Order believed - was exactly what he wanted.]

[But Dumbledore would never be persuaded.]

The Dark Lord was standing before the dormer window, facing away from them, the backlighting of the wan winter afternoon making the air around him seem shimmery and thick. Or perhaps that was simply the power of the magic which emanated from him, in even, undulating waves. He was very tall - taller even, Severus thought, than Black, before he cursed himself for thinking of someone so colossally insignificant in the Dark Lord’s presence - and very, very thin. He held himself with the spare, serpentine grace of a ballet dancer, slender hands clasped elegantly behind his back. He was very expensively dressed, in magnificent robes of midnight-blue velvet, glittering with gold at the collar and cuffs.

The wanted posters always showed him in the austere black of combat.

‘Severus Snape, my lord.’

The Dark Lord waved languidly in acknowledgement. ‘You may leave us, Romulus.’

‘Very good, my lord.’ It did not escape Severus’ attention that Lestrange, one of the purest, and richest, and most powerful men in Britain, left the room bowing and scraping like a house elf. He imagined what it would be like to have such power over Avery, or Mulciber, or Rosier, whose families’ lineages - while they seemed to have done little to make them smart or attractive - gave them a status in the world which was forever out of reach for him. The idea was thrilling.

‘Sit,’ said the Dark Lord, in his cold, beautiful voice, gesturing to a chair by the desk.

Severus arranged himself upon it, suddenly uncomfortably aware of his gangliness of limb and awkwardness of demeanour, a favourite topic of fun in both the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms. Pureblood children all had lessons in elocution and deportment the moment they could toddle. The Dark Lord’s ranks were swelled with elegant men. That there could be a place in his world for someone like Severus seemed nonsensical.

The Dark Lord drifted into the opposite chair.

The wanted posters are very unflattering, thought Severus.

That wasn’t strictly true, of course. The wanted posters managed to capture the innate wrongness of Lord Voldemort’s features very well: his death-mask face, skin stretched taut like marble over the sharp bone of his skull; his bloodless pallor; his sleek, jet black hair and his widow’s peak, the colour in sharp contrast to the sickly waxiness of his skin; the tight, reptilian corners to his mouth. But they could not capture the lingering traces of what - Severus knew, as only someone denied it can - must have once been extraordinary beauty: the plump femininity of his lips; the sharp chin and high cheekbones; the scattering of freckles on his sneering nose. His eyes, though a glistening, inhuman scarlet, were framed with lashes so long that they touched his cheek when he blinked.

That he had a weakness for slender, dark-haired men with arrogant features was something Severus had spent much of his adolescence trying to deny - he was already poor and ugly, adding being a poof into the mix would be disastrous. He had chosen instead to focus on fantasies of nubile female bodies and red hair, instead of Black leaning back on his chair during Potions or Potter mounting his broom or the occasional glimpse of Regulus, naked and wet, in the showers. The desire he felt on those wicked occasions was too overwhelming for him to cope with, forcing him to retreat to the shadowiest places he could find to wank in furtive desperation, praying that the Marauders didn’t find and torture him while he was already overcome with need for their darkness and danger.

But, in that moment, they were nothing to him. Lord Voldemort was darker and more dangerous by far than Potter and the Blacks. It was the otherworldliness to him, Severus decided, which elevated him above that cast of miserable schoolboys. He was a creature of power, of magic, of fulgent, combustible evil, and Severus was enthralled.

The Dark Lord smiled as though he had read his mind. He had very long canines, like snake’s fangs.

‘So,’ he said, softly, regarding Severus over the tented tips of his fingers. Severus wondered if he was aware it was a mannerism he shared with Dumbledore. ‘We are introduced at last.’

‘It’s an honour,’ said Severus, breath hitching in his throat. ‘My lord,’ he added, remembering the whispered briefing on etiquette Malfoy had given him as they scurried up the driveway.

The Dark Lord’s eyes glimmered as they ran across his face. ‘I’m sure it is.’

#asks answered #work in progress ask game #snapemort #severus snape #tom riddle #lord voldemort #scylla and charybdis #s&c sneak peek

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