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sheeple · 3 months

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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 1

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Cheating boyfriend (Matt could never) / Matt is a cheeky shit A/n: Kinda tried something new with the notes. Lmk if you like/dislike it [Masterlist] [part 2] [part 3]

There is a certain expectation that comes with having a well-known surname. People expect you to act in a way that befits a Malfoy, Abbott, Prewett or any other name on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. And while there is no person left who carries the Gaunt name anymore, a Riddle is as good as a Gaunt in the eyes of the Pure-Blood community.

The one thing nobody realises that also carries on for the ones who are literally Wizarding World royalty. Like you. A Hufflepuff. No, not like the house. But your surname is literally Hufflepuff. Helga Hufflepuff is your great-grandmother many times over. And it sucks.

You're expected to be the embodiment of Hufflepuff House. Be kind, be ready to help everyone who asks, be patient, be humble, be just, be good at Herbology. You hate Herbology! The dirt under your nails. The smell of the classroom. The way magical plants are not really safe for children to be around. I mean... hello? Mandrakes? Yeah, didn't think so.

And it's not like you're not all those things. You are kind, you do help others when asked, you are humble, maybe not as patient as you should be, and just. Just not all the time.

Like right now. Right now you are not patient with Hannah and Susan for hogging the bathroom. You've slept like shit and you are hungry. So, you've decided to go to breakfast without them and have them join you later. You can always brush your teeth after breakfast

As you walk across the common room, you greet your Great-Grandmother in passing. "Morning, Meemaw."

"Good morning my little Badger!", she calls after you cheerfully, earning a couple snickers from your housemates. You choose to ignore them and make your trek up the stairs in silence, giving every student who greets you a polite smile.

You don't even know half the people who call out your name when you pass them. They don't even use your name. Just a variation of Hufflepuff. Huff. Puff. Badger. Queen Badger — you really hate that one. You nearly punched a guy for calling you the Top Notch Yellow One. But to be fair, you were in an abysmal mood that day.

By now you've got a pro at tuning out the stares when you walk into the Great Hall. It's mostly the first years who stare at you with wide eyes and mouths agape once they learn who you are.

You plop down at a free spot and start to plate up some food and pour in juice. Just as you're mid-sip, you feel someone loom over you.

"Good morning", gets whispered in your ear before your boyfriend takes a seat next to you.

You hum and slump against his shoulder. Malcolm pats your head as he knows that is the best attempt at getting a response from you before you've got a semblance of food in your stomach.

Malcolm Preece and you have been dating for almost a year now. He's a year above you and on the Quidditch team. Your friends don't really like him — and if you are completely honest with yourself neither do you. He's too possessive. He always needs to know where you are and with whom. It also drives you absolutely up the walls.

It has always been expected of you to be in a respectable relationship by the sixth year. Even non-Slytherin families have that kind of pressure. Surprising hmm? You needed your parents off your back and Malcolm was there. Do you feel bad for the guy? Yeah, of course. And it's not like you don't care about him but it's more an obligation; the kissing and the touches and the handholding.

"Guess what", you grumble, whipping your mouth. Malcolm hums as he butters his bread. "My first class of the day is Herbology."

Malcolm laughs and shakes his head. He places a kiss on your hair before saying, "I know. You've been whining about it all last evening. Is there absolutely nothing you can find to enjoy about the subject. Or why don't you ask Sprout if you can drop the course?"

You give him a look. "You know I can't do that. Everybody in my family graduated top of their class and I am not about to be the first one of my siblings to royally piss off my parents. Amelia came close when she almost dropped Meemaw's cup."

Your boyfriend laughs but doesn't say anything else. Because your hate for Herbology doesn't come from your general dislike of dirt. It comes from the first thing you see when you walk into the glasshouse.

You share many classes with other houses. You also share many classes with Slytherin. That also means you share many classes with Mattheo Riddle. He's a pompous prat who likes to make your days worse for absolutely no reason.

Normally you sit on the other side of the classroom and ignore him and his friends. He's not above pulling your hair or bumping against you in the hallways. It's petty. And you have no idea why or how it started in the first place.

Herbology is the only class you actually have to interact with Mattheo. For the others you usually sit with Hannah or Susan. But Professor Sprout wanted to hustle up the usual groups and pair random students with each other. That's how you got stuck with Mattheo.

"What is it, princess? Scared a little mud will ruin your manicure?", he says with a shit-eating grin as you put on gardening gloves. You shoot him a glare but continue to tend to you Fluxweed.

"Looks like your Fluxweed can use a little manicure." You give a pointed look at the sad sprig that used to be a plant and continue to do your own thing. "That reminds me, we have to finish our report on Fluxweed. Do you have any time this week? I mean, between your busy schedule of pestering first years and tripping up Neville Longbottom."

You hear a snicker behind you. Hannah holds up her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter and you wink at her while Mattheo sends her a scalding glare.

"Sure", sneers Mattheo, "if you have any room between tea parties and snogging that sad sack you call a boyfriend."

"I don't have-", you want to interject but you know it has no use. Only if Professor Sprout wouldn't be hoovering around you all the time you would have 'accidentally' stomped on his feet.

You turn your back towards him and walk towards the supply closet, searching for a pair of shears. But Professor Sprout keeps them on the top shelf. As you want to grab your wand, a hand suddenly tugs at the ribbon in your hair.

With a gasp, you whip around and you are met with Mattheo's chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He gives you a bored look before turning around and walking back towards his table.

You shake your head and turn around. When you want to Accio the shears to you, you see that they've been placed on the shelve at eye height. Huh.

Once your classes before lunch are finally over you walk out of the classroom with a smile as you spot Malcolm waiting for you. But your smile soon falters at the person standing next to him. Gladys Prescott stands way too close to your boyfriend. She's twirling a lock of hair with her finger as she laughs obnoxiously at one of Malcolm's jokes. They're great, but not that funny.

When you first started dating Malcolm you voiced your questions about his and Gladys' relationship. You were under the impression that they were dating because of how close they were. You and your friends were surprised when he asked you out on a Hogsmeade date.

The worst thing is that Malcolm swears nothing's going on between the two. That they're just friends. But the way he looks at her and treats her makes you glower. It's not that you're jealous. Just... you don't want to get berated by your parents for choosing the wrong partner.

"Ready?", you plaster on a wide smile, clutching your books in your hands.

Gladys and Malcolm look like they are snapped out of their little world before Malcolm registers that it's you and he returns your smile. "You don't mind if Gly joins us, do you?"

You turn to the girl, who gives you a fake ass big smile. "Of course not. The more the merrier! Now, tell me about your morning."

The two of them speak more to each other and don't bother to include you. Resting your chin on your hand, you look around the Great Hall. Susan and Hannah are doing their Prefect duties so they are unable to join you for lunch.

Tuning out Malcolm and Gladys, your eyes flicker to the other students who are enjoying their lunch. You suddenly make eye contact with Mattheo over at the Slytherin table. He raises his brows at you. You mimic his expression before continuing with your surveying. But when you look back he's still looking at you.

His expressionless eyes flicker towards your boyfriend and Gladys before back to you. He raises a single eyebrow at you, silently asking if you tolerate it.

You send him a pinched look back before zoning back into the conversation. Malcolm and Gladys are laughing loudly and Gladys has a hand clasped over his. The hold on your fork tightens and you swear you feel it bend in your hold.

You stand up abruptly. Gladys and Malcolm pull their hands away like they're burned and look up at you. "I'm... I have to ask Professor Slughorn something before class begins." You think up the excuse on the spot.

"Oh... Do you want me to walk you..?" Malcolm looks at you with big eyes.

But you shake your head. "No. I wouldn't want to pull you away from your fascinating conversation." You give Gladys a sickly sweet smile, which she doesn't return.

Instead of making a left once you leave the Great Hall, you keep on walking until you're at the edge of the forest. You survey if nobody's following you. With a deep breath, you crouch down and feel your bones and skin snap and pull.

One thing that nobody seems to know about Helga Hufflepuff is that she is a born Animagus. And she has given the ability to transform into a badger at will to all her descendants. The Ministry knows about it and every Hufflepuff descendant gets tested at age ten. By then most children are already used to the transformation.

And you love it. It helps you clear your head and release frustration. As of late you've been doing it a lot more.

Your little legs move easily over the forest floor towards your little burrow. You know, the Dark Forest isn't that scary when you're one of the animals. Mostly because you know which sides of the forest you need to dodge. Badgers are vicious but spiders are a paint in the butt.

The afternoon is spent frolicking in flower fields, munching on berries and nuts, and reinforcing the little stick bridges you made for your fellow badgers and woodland creatures over the many rivers that pass through the forest.

By the time you return to the castle, it's already dark and you're tired. You want to curl up in your bed and hear about Susan and Hannah's day.

But something stops you in your way when you pass a dorm. A whiney, feminine voice comes from Malcolm's room. Gladys. "For how long do you have to pretend to like that stuck-up brat?"

You inch closer to the door and peer between the crack. Malcolm and Gladys are on his bed, her between his legs and they're pecking each other's lips, naked. Your chest tightens at this display of intimacy Malcolm never wanted to show you. Too 'old-school'. Or so he claimed.

Malcolm hums. "I know, Pookie. But next year I'm graduated and I want a good job. If I manage to sit it out any longer Mr Hufflepuff might recommend me for a good position at the Ministry."

Anger bubbles from within you and you turn around, marching out of the common room. You ignore the calls of your name and keep on walking until you're outside and on one of the old defence walls of the school. Your thinking spot.

It doesn't hurt that he is cheating on you. You weren't blind. What hurts is that he is using you to get further in life. He's just like the others.

Your shoulders tense up at the sound of someone making them up the stairs and the smell of cigarettes. Great. You really need him to bother you right now.

Mattheo halts once he spots you sitting between the battlements, your feet dangling off the edge. He blows out a puff of smoke before sitting next to you. Out of politeness, he offers his cigarette. He doesn't expect you to accept it and take a drag.

"I didn't know you smoked", muses Mattheo as he watches you blow out the smoke mesmerised.

You glance at him while giving the cigarette back. "I don't."

The two of you stay silent, neither of you wanting or knowing what to talk about. Until it's Mattheo who breaks the silence. "What has the pretty Princess so stressed?"

"I'm not stressed." You opt to ignore the princess part for your sanity.

"Sure. And I can't talk to snakes. You're destroying your nailbeds", he points out and you look down. Your fingers are picking at the skin around your thumbnails. You've managed to make it bleed.

Sticking your thumb in your mouth to suck the blood away, you stare defiantly at the darkness that envelops the forbidden forest. "Malcolm's been cheating on me", you say after some contemplating, eyeing the Slytherin boy next to you.

Mattheo raises one brow unimpressed. "What?", he asks when you give him a look, "do I have to act surprised?" He dramatically fake gasps. "Oh, my Merlin! He did not!" He impersonates an American Valley Girl while covering his mouth with his hand.

You roll your eyes annoyed. Of course, you shouldn't have brought up the subject to Mattheo fucking Riddle. "Forget it if you're going to be a dick about it." You push yourself up and dust off your hands.

But Mattheo's hand around your wrist stops you and he leans back, his eyes somewhat apologetic. "No, don't go. I'm sorry. How did you find out?"

This time you raise your eyebrows. Mattheo Riddle never apologises. What in the...

Against your better judgment, you sit back, your hands folded in your lap. "I just came back and I heard him talk about it with Gladys. How he wants my dad to give him a good job when he graduates." You take a deep breath, the nicotine tickling your nose. "I had a hunch he was fooling around with her. But using me, that hurts, you know?"

He nods as you glance at him. Mattheo knows. He, just like you, is used to people only talking to or befriending him because they want something from him. They think getting in his good graces gets them somewhere. Absolutely not.

"You knew?"

You hum. Your fingers start to attack your nailbeds again as you think back to the many times you've had to bite your tongue. To keep face in front of the others at school. "I needed someone to keep my parents off my back. My parents expect all of us to have a steady partner by our sixth year. My siblings did it, but only the oldest actually had a girlfriend. The twins just told me to find someone to play the part."

A groan escapes you as you bury your hands in your face. "And now someone will rat to their parents about my break-up, who in turn tell my parents and then I'll get a stern letter about my future. This whole break-up is more an irritation than a heartache."

The Slytherin boy next to you is deadly silent. Why would you be so stupid to air your grievance to him? It's not like he cares. Standing up for real this time, you give him a curt nod. "Thank you for listening, Riddle. Best not to mention our meet-up with anyone, alright? Goodnight."

You make your way back towards your dorm and crash into your bed. Pressing your face against your pillow, you try your hardest to forget today.

But as suspected, sleep doesn't come easily. Or not at all. And you feel like a zombie walking towards breakfast, your friends giving you worried looks after you explained what happened last night — minus the Mattheo part.

"I swear if one more busybody comes up to you to say they're sorry", grumbles Hannah as she gives the students around you glares. She balls up her fists and punches the air in front of her. You and Susan chuckle while students around you look at her weirdly.

It's the worst when you enter the Great Hall. The general breakfast noise quiets as your peers start to whisper when you pass them. You keep your eyes focused on a far-off point until you are at your usual breakfast spot.

The three of you eat mostly in silence. Hannah and Susan try to engage you in a conversation but you just play with your food.

"Can we talk?"

You tense up and drop your fork. Slowly, you turn around and look up at Malcolm. He has a guilty look on his face and it angers you. "I don't know. Can we?" You cock your head condescendingly to the side.

You turn back around and start abusing the piece of toast on your plate. Malcolm lays a hand on your shoulder but it gets promptly ripped off by Hannah. "I strongly advise you to back off."

Malcolm scoffs, looking down at the girl who stands protective in front of you. "Or what? Can't I speak with my girlfriend?"

You slowly rise and turn around to face the prick. "Don't speak to her like that, you insufferable twat. You best believe my dad will make sure you won't get a job anywhere in the Ministry, not even as a wand polisher", you bare your teeth, your chest raising rapidly. The Great Hall has fallen silent, watching the exchange.

"You little bitch." Malcolm's jaw ticks and he balls a fist. But the voice of a teacher stops him.

"Mister Preece, I would strongly advise you to step away from Miss Hufflepuff if you don't want to lose your position on the Quidditch team." Professor McGonagall comes striding from the teacher's table, where they could have seen the interaction between the two of you clear as day.

Malcolm's eyes flicker from you towards the professor and back. "This isn't over", he grumbles before leaving the Great Hall.

"Thank you, Professor." You give the woman a small smile as you collect your schoolbag. She waves you away and you grab both Hannah and Susan's hands, dragging them out of the Great Hall, the stares the whole ordeal created starting to creep you out.

Hannah grumbles all the way towards Charms how's she going to 'beat his face in the next time he dares to look at you'. Susan and you share a look but you're glad you've got Hannah to look out for you.

It's again Hannah who sends glares around as the three of you take place at your usual spot — upper bench all the way at the end. That way the three of you can whisper among each other without bothering anyone.

The class goes as usual before a paper bird lands before you. You look surprised to the other side of the classroom. Mattheo Riddle is already looking at you and miming for you to unfold the bird.

You raise your brows at his note. He has such a chicken-scratch handwriting.

"What is it?", asks Susan in a whisper, leaning closer to you to read the note. A soft gasp escapes her and she looks over at Mattheo. Who's eyes are still trained on you, by the way. "Since when are you and Mattheo Riddle sending notes to each other?!"

"Since never!", you hiss, "what time are we done today?"

Hannah looks up from her book. "Three. Why?" She snatches the note out of Susan's hands and her eyes trail over the words. "He needs to fix his handwriting, my brother in Christ. Is 'Fluxweed report' some kind of secret code?"

You snort and swat her chest, earning a smug smile from the girl.

"I think it's rather romantic", says Susan, the hopeless romantic that she is.

A grimace forms on your face. "What is so romantic about finishing a Herbology essay?"

Susan sighs exorbitantly as she rolls her eyes. "You're officially single now! Free to go and explore and find someone who you really like! Mattheo obviously has seen his chance and took it!"

You and Hannah look at Susan as if she just swallowed a flobberworm. She gives the two of you an exasperated look. "What?! Isn't it like so romantic if the two descendants of Hogwarts founders end up dating? I bet ten galleons that he asks you out on a Hogsmeade date."

You huff out a breath. "Fine. But if he ends up humiliating me I'm going to enjoy those ten galleons with all my heart. Now, what do I write him back?"

"Oh! You should ask to meet at those tables at the back of the library where nobody really comes. That way you two could really cosy up."

You turn towards Hannah, feeling betrayed. "I thought you were with me on this?"

Hannah shrugs. "I'm always down for some drama. Besides, he has been staring at you and I always wondered when he would make his move."

"Since when has Mattheo Riddle been staring at me?", you ask genuinely shocked.

"Since like forever! He always manages to look away just in time. You were also too busy with him who we won't name. Bad joojoo."

You ignore Hannah's observation and pen an answer back.

You wait to send it towards him when Flitwick isn't looking before chucking the balled-up paper towards the other side of the classroom and hitting him in the face.

You clasp a hand over your mouth while you and your friends stifle your laugh. Mattheo unfolds the paper, his eyes following every letter you wrote before he shows a thumbs up.

"Dibs on being you guys' child's Godparent", whispers Susan with a grin and you elbow her in the ribs.

You try to bring your focus back to Flitwick, but you keep on glancing back at the curly-haired boy across the room. Has he some sort of plan to ask you so publicly to study? What is his motive? It can't only be studying, right?

Throughout the day you've grown quite nervous about meeting Mattheo. If it wasn't for your stupid friends and their stupid words you wouldn't have thought about this afternoon like any different from any other Herbology class.

For Merlin's sake! You just broke up with your boyfriend and your friends are already pushing you onto the next. You wanted to take it slow for a while and enjoy the rest of your year without the worry of having to please a guy!

You fix your hair and uniform behind a bookcase as you see Mattheo already sitting at the table. With a curt breath and nod to yourself, you walk up to the table and take place in front of him. "Hi. Sorry if you've been waiting for long." You send him a small smile as you grab your book and notebook out of your bag. "It takes more time than I imagined to get from Divignation to here."

Mattheo gives you a half-smile and waves away your apologies. "Don't worry. I just got here too actually. So... what needed to be in that essay again?"

The two of you work together surprisingly well. If Mattheo isn't throwing his snide remarks around anyway. You also don't feel the need to be as snappy as you usually are with him. It's actually... nice? For once.

As you're writing the last part of the essay, you feel his eyes on you. You look back up and raise your brows, silently asking what his deal is.

"I was thinking", he begins.

You let out a chuckle. "That's dangerous."

Ignoring your quip, he continues, "you need your parents off your back, right? And I imagine that you would like to smite Preece after that embarrassing stunt he pulled this morning."

You lean back with your eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't quite call it that. But continue."

Mattheo licks his bottom lips as he instead leans close to you, his voice softening. "Go out with me. Just a couple of dates so that you're seen with me. You know it will drive him nuts seeing you move on so quick."

You contemplate it for a moment or two. He is right. Malcolm always was a bit too paranoid for your taste when you talked with a boy.

He hums. "So you agree?"

"What do you out of it? This all is a bit too suspicious."

He laughs and he runs his tongue over his teeth. "You don't believe me that I'm just content with having a pretty girl by my side?" When you shake your head he grins. "Smart girl. Maybe by 'dating' you, it will pull Preece's attention away from Quidditch and they'll lose the cup."

"So I'm sabotaging my own house?", you muse, your eyes flickering between his own.

Something seems to falter inside Mattheo's eyes for a second before a teasing smile grows on his face. "Well, you can't have everything princess."

Huming, you fall back into your chair. "Sure. When and where will our first 'date' be?", you use air quotations when you say date.

"I've heard that Saturday is going to be a sunny day."

"Sure. Eleven okay? We could meet up in the Clocktower courtyard. That way a lot of people see us leave together."

And with that, quite casually, your totally not fake date with Mattheo Riddle is agreed.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch

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theemporium · 1 year

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[1.6k] sick of their lovesick friend crushing on you, remus and sirius take it upon themselves to give james the boost he needs to talk to you. it doesn’t quite work out the way they planned.

It wasn’t meant to happen like this.

Or, to accurately rephrase that, it wasn’t meant to be this fucking intense.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were nothing but good friends. They were there when you needed someone to listen, they were there to offer advice, they were there to make you laugh when all you really needed was a distraction.

They were good friends.

But even this was pushing their limits.

It was no surprise to anyone at Hogwarts that James Potter fell hard and fast. It may not happen often as people like to make it out to be, but the second that boy sets his eyes on someone, he’s a goner. And there’s no one better than his friends to know that.

They had seen it with crushes over the last few years, but none of them hit the boy as hard as you did.

One snarky comment, a broom race and one infirmary visit later, and James Potter was completely besotted by you.

And as his best friends, Remus and Sirius had been subjected to far too many rambles the bespectacled boy had given over the months since he first laid his eyes on you.

But even they had their limits and their patience was quickly running out. That’s why they had a plan, a simple plan. It was honestly the simplest of plans where nothing could go wrong.

Or at least, that’s what they had thought.

The main problem was that for all he was confident and arrogant and loud, James Potter seemed to lose all confidence and suave when he was around you. The boy got flustered and stumbled on his words and struggled to even say anything remotely impressive, and it was a disheartening sight to see.

So when Remus suggested a simple confidence boosting potion from the alchemy in Hogsmeade, the plan was set in stone. They’d sneak him the potion, convince him to ask you out and the rest would be history.

The task to acquire the potion was left to Sirius considering Remus had prefect rounds and would be unable to get the potion himself. But Sirius didn’t think some measly potion from Hogsmeade would be enough, so he didn’t see the big deal in grabbing one from his family’s favourite upend alchemy instead.

As it turns out, it was a very big deal.

Not only were the potions stronger, but they were laced with extra festive elements for witches and wizards who were stupid enough to buy potions during holidays.

And this confidence potion was laced with a very, very strong love potion—-in celebration of Valentines Day.

“What the fuck did you buy?!”

“The man in the store said it would enhance!”

“Enhance what? His bloody insanity?!”

“Stop yelling at me, Moony, I am sensitive!”

Both boys stared at their friend who sat on the bed in front of them, a cheesy grin on his face and his tousled hair falling into his eyes. They thought it would be easiest to slip in the potion in the morning, just before they headed down for breakfast.

Now, they realised, it would probably be best if they hadn’t given him the potion at all.

James Potter sat on his bed, a badly drawn picture of you that was no better than a stickman on a piece of parchment in his hand as he sighed hopelessly.

“She’s so pretty,” James murmured happily.

“That’s a bit of ink and paper, mate,” Sirius replied, looking at James with the caution one would have for a wild beast.

“She’s even pretty when she’s a drawing,” James continued as he lifted his head to look at his friends. “Don’t you think?”

“Uh, sure,” Remus murmured, unsure if disagreeing with a lovesick fool would be the best course of action. He turned to look at Sirius, a glimmer of annoyance in his gaze. “We can’t let him leave this room when he is acting like…that.”

“He will be fine, Moony,” Sirius scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “It’s barely noticeable anyways.”

Remus raised his brows. “Oh really?”

“Hey, buddy, how ya feeling?” Sirius asked as he turned back to James.

James jumped onto his feet, puffing his chest out. “I feel like I wanna sing to the world how much I love my girl—“

“Yeah, okay, maybe he’s not ready to leave the room just yet.”

Remus let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’m gonna go down and grab us some food and possibly some books from the library that can help us…reverse whatever this is,” he announced as he turned back to Sirius and fitted him with a glare. “Keep an eye on him, and do not let him leave.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Aye, aye, captain.”

“I’m serious.”

“I thought I was Sirius.”

“I swear to Merlin—“

“I promise, I promise!” Sirius eventually sighed and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Now go, before Prongs starts spouting sonnets and you start correcting him.”

It didn’t sit well with Remus has he quickly exited the Gryffindor common room, heading into the halls of the school and making his way down to the Great Hall. Leaving Sirius in charge of a very…odd James was not reassuring in the slightest, but at this point they had little choice in the matter. They needed to get this sorted out and get it sorted out soon without alarming any of the teachers.

Or worse, James’ mother.

Remus suppressed his shudder as he made his way through the throng of students, heading towards the Gryffindor table so he could grab some food for the lot of them and make a quick escape.

However, the boy failed to notice the group sitting just a few feet away from him.

“Remus, hey!”

Remus froze, a piece of toast hanging between his fingers before he turned his head to the left, giving you what he hoped was a casual smile—although it looked more like a grimace.

“Hey,” he answered lamely.

“You’re late this morning,” you joked lightly, your attention purely on the boy. You stretched your neck to try and catch a glimpse of his friends but he was alone. “Hey, where’s—”

“James is sick!” Remus blurted out and watched as you frowned in concern. “Not like, deathly sick. But just enough for him to stay in bed for the day.”

“Oh,” you murmured and the disappointment was clear in your voice. “Is there anything I can do to help? I have some potions my mum gave me—“

“No, no,” Remus waved you off. “Potions can’t fix this.”

But that only seemed to deepen your worries. “Remus, are you sure he’s okay?”

However, before Remus could even open his mouth to spout another lie, another voice yelled through the hallway just outside the Great Hall.

“OH TREASURE OF MY HEART!”

Remus closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“OH DARLING APPLE OF MY EYE!”

“He had one fucking job,” Remus muttered to himself. “One. Fucking. Job.”

“WHERE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE?!”

Your wide eyes met Remus’. “Is that—”

Just then a figure came bursting through the entrance of the Great Hall, standing in nothing but socks, a pair of boxers and a white shirt. But James Potter didn’t care about the gasps or gawking eyes, he was looking for one person—you.

“My love!” His eyes brightened as he spotted you on the table and quickly began making his way over to you.

Not even seconds later, Sirius came running after him as he panted heavily. “Fucking…prick…hexed me.”

Remus would’ve snorted if James approaching you wasn't the priority.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as a partially dressed James kneeled down in front of you. “James—”

“Love of my life, you look absolutely stunning today, it wounds me!” James sighed dramatically as he reached to take your hands in his, pressing kisses on the back of each knuckle.

“I wound you?” you murmured as the boy looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t you know, darling? It wounds me to even be apart from you!” James exclaimed.

“Okay, buddy, how about we head back to the dorm?” Remus murmured as he tried to pull James up, but his hands were quickly batted away.

“Leave me alone, Moony, you are getting in the way of true love!”

“True love?” you repeated, biting back the smile growing on your lips. You were still very confused, but at least you were amused.

“The truest!” James said as he looked you in the eyes before taking a deep breath. “Oh darling, do me the pleasure of becoming Mrs Potter—“

“OKAY!” Remus clapped his hands together, finally pulling James away from you as Sirius cackled beside him.

“You’ve ruined my proposal, Moony!” James whined. “You’re officially taken off the best man list.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Remus muttered before flashing you a sheepish smile. “Just…pretend this never happened.”

Before Remus could make proper move of herding a boisterous James out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor dormitories, you were out of your seat and chasing after them.

“James!”

His head quickly snapped around, big eyes finding yours as his face split into a grin. “Yes, my love?”

You stopped when you stood in front of them, your chest moving up and down quickly and your heart thundering in your chest, but it was too late now.

Before you could second guess yourself, you leaned forward and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing a kiss on his lips before pulling back.

“Come find me when you’re…better.”

James didn’t even get the chance to reply as you quickly skidded off, his lips parted in shock and his cheeks burning a bright pink as he aimlessly stared at the spot where you stood moments ago.

“Moony?”

“Yeah, Prongs?”

“Did that really happen?”

“Yeah it did, mate.”

“Right…great…catch me, mate.”

Remus opened his mouth to reply but James’ body had already sagged against his, the boy’s eyes now closed and he couldn’t help but let out a snort as he heaved the unconscious boy’s arms around his neck.

“I better be your fucking best man now.”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Pads and carry the croissants.”

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charlies-diary-entries · 26 days

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metamorphmagus!reader drabble <3

very, very long fluffy ass drabble approaching, just about 2k words. im actually deeply insanely obsessed with the concept of the metamorphmagus (my non-binary is showing, i know) and need more content of a metamorphmagus!reader + poly!marauders.

you officially meet the marauders during your later years at Hogwarts. they'd heard of you before, how could they not? beyond the small class sizes (which required you be aware of essentially everyone in your year, willingly or not), and the houses (which only further narrowed your chances of not knowing anyone), it was difficult for something as rare as a metamorphmagus to slip under anyone's noses.

james recalled seeing you at quidditch games, your hair vividly colored to match whichever team you were supporting. he was often proud to look through the crowd and find you sporting flaring red locks, cheering alongside his fellow gryffindors. he was proud, even if he knew you weren't there for him. very secretly, he often found himself wanting you to be there for him.

remus remembered the awkward instance of a professor dragging you to the front of the class and demanding you transform for him and your peers. it was a substitute for care of magical creatures, and he was determined to treat you like something to study. remus had cringed as you shifted, clearly uncomfortable and disjointed, before running off and skipping the rest of the day, upset. he wished he had gone to comfort you.

sirius often thought about when he spotted you shifting back to your true face while being dragged through the corridors by minnie. she was huffing and puffing about something you had done, some harmless prank scaring some first years with a strange face, but you only laughed. when he caught your eye, you winked, and he could feel his cheeks flush as he grinned. he'd suspected you'd be great fun for a while yet, but you were just beginning to prove yourself to him.

you had mostly slipped them all by up until their fifth year. by then, the boys had all been dating each other only for a short amount of time but it was becoming apparent to the rest of the school that the marauders were now strictly "look, but don't touch". they were really too fond of each other to consider anyone else now! (this was deeply upsetting information for the many young witches and wizards who had their hearts set upon a member of the famous group.)

however, as you had continued to find passion and joy in care of magical creatures despite your previous experience, you were studying to be a magizoologist. this meant, you were assisting kettleburn while james took the class. which of course meant, he finally had a clear opportunity to befriend you.

you and james caught on like wildfire, and it didn't take long for him to begin dragging the other marauders into your study sessions. hours would pass by, quiet jokes turning into loud laughter and getting shushed by the librarian. they found your ability endlessly fascinating and you were only too happy to oblige your new friends. (one time you transformed into sirius and the two of you acted out him falling in love with himself. the uproar it sent james and remus into actually got you kicked out of the library.)

it didn't take very long for you to become the newest unofficial member of the marauders. you were their beloved friend, and unfortunately in remus's eyes, all too smart. you had figured out his "furry little secret" just within the first month of knowing them all. the next month, they sat together in the hospital wing. sirius was holding remus's hand as james lay next to him on the bed, trying to bring him what comfort they had to offer when you stormed in. they were all aghast when you appeared in the hospital wing after the full moon with a full load of chocolate, several novels, and a promise that you'd do anything you could to help Remus through the lunar cycle. (remus thinks this very well may be when he fell in love with you. didn't help that you refused to leave his side for the rest of the day, reading to him and holding his hand in an entirely friendly way.)

you often joined them for the famous gryffindor parties, often getting sufficiently drunk and completely out of your mind. your appearance would shift constantly, struggling to find one stable face and body when your mind was so fuzzy. you would dance and laugh with them all, so when remus had squeezed sirius's hand and sent him to the corner you'd tucked away in, he knew something was wrong. you had been rather viciously rejected by a ravenclaw you liked, and now, very drunk, you were moaning to sirius about your appearance. could you have made your lips fuller? grown your hair? maybe cut your hair? what could have been different, more attractive, what could have made them like you? bigger eyes? sharper features? he had held your shifting face, helping you calm down and relax into your true complexion. (sirius had thought you looked completely gorgeous as yourself, because no matter how you looked, no matter what changed, he could always tell when you were comfortable in your own skin. he liked you best like that.)

and you always stood for what you believed in. once, james and remus had to not-so-gently drag you away from someone who had loudly claimed werewolves were "inhuman monsters". you continued to shout after them until you were dragged out of their sight, after which you gave remus possibly the longest hug he'd ever had. james gave him a soft kiss on the cheek after they sent you off to class, hoping you wouldn't attack any other students. unfortunately, later that same day, james caught you shouting at the very same student, defending a muggle-born slytherin. he didn't hear what they said, but something shifted in your eyes before you physically shifted, taking on a shit-ton of muscle and pouncing on them. he raced to pull you off as you bellowed at them, wordless and angry, before a professor raced over and helped him. you were dragged off to detention for a week and the slytherin dealt with a broken jaw and black eye as punishment for calling the student you had defended a mudblood. (james only felt immense appreciation for you afterwards. he'd never seen you spark like that before, and he'd never seen you look so undeniably hot.)

it was an incredibly comforting conversation between the three of them when sirius had audibly expressed just how attractive you were. james and remus were quick to agree, and it grew to them admitting to each other their collective feelings for you. but with it suddenly out in the open, none of them knew how to interact with you anymore. the previously friendly touches now felt charged, every glance your way was longing, and none of them knew how to manage it.

it didn't help that you seemed to be pulling away from them either, flushing and quickly making your way out of most of your conversations with them. they thought they were scaring you off. in reality, you were scaring yourself off.

you felt the exact same as them, but deeply feared ruining one of your few lasting friendships at the school. you began shifting into new faces, new bodies, ones they wouldn't recognize in order to avoid them in the halls. it stung to see them searching for you in class and around school, and it stung more when they gave up. maybe if you avoided them you'd begin to feel normal about them again. (you'd had enough weird for a life time, the few normal things you could have you desperately clung to.)

eventually, they caught onto you. again, there were only so many students at Hogwarts, so seeing a new one every other day during their classes with you? it was a painfully ineffective tactic.

remus caught you one day, lounging by the lake. well, sulking seemed a more accurate word, as you were incredibly glum, despite being relaxed enough to look like yourself. it felt like the first time he'd seen your actual face in years. he called out to you.

you jumped, and turned to run, but he cried out for you to stay. and well, you couldn't deny him. not when he sounded like that. not when he sounded so... abandoned. you cringed as you turned around and he rushed up, grabbing your face, turning you this way and that, filled with worry. he asked if you were okay, if you'd been hurt, if they'd hurt you somehow, and why in godric's name were you avoiding them so much-

and gently, you grabbed his wrists to still him, opening your mouth to... to what? comfort him? lie and say you were fine? no words escaped you as remus realized what he'd done and quickly pulled his touch away from you, a flush spreading across his cheeks. (he nearly didn't notice how you'd deflated as he stepped back.)

an awkward, pained grin crossed his face as he looked at you and whispered to you, "where'd you go? what happened to... to us?"

you very nearly broke down in tears right then and there, sucking in a sharp breath as you tried to prepare for losing them. that could be the only possible resolution to all this mess, and you'd be on your own. again. that was fine. you began to speak again, before a shout interrupted you.

james barreled past remus to give you a bear hug so forceful he actually tackled you to the ground. sirius was not far behind him, slipping a hand around remus's side and leaning into him, relaxed at finally seeing you.

a few tears slipped down your cheeks as you hugged james back, who only held you tighter, shouting that you could never leave them alone again. "we all love you too much to lose you ever again, so don't ever get lost, okay?"

you chuckled softly, more tears escaping as you buried your face into his neck. your laughter quickly boiled over into quiet sobs, shakily asking, "love, huh? that's- that's an awful big word, you- are you sure you love me?"

"love you? dove, we're plain obsessed with you-" james finally pulled back, shaking your shoulders then cupping your cheeks. "don't cry lovie, why are you crying?"

"because you don't- you don't love me the way i love you."

james tilted his head at you, deciphering your words, before your true meaning hit him like a truck. he grinned, whispering a quiet "fuck it" before shoving completely into your space and smashing his lips against yours. his glasses went crooked and you gasped into it, and there was some teeth clashing from how much james was smiling, but it was wonderful.

when he finally pulled back, panting and gleefully laughing, you could hear sirius's wolf-whistle and remus's shocked chuckles. you quickly looked between all of them, completely shocked before locking back onto james.

"you- you kissed me."

"sure did, dove."

"did," you glanced between all of them again, now keeping your eyes on sirius and remus as you leaned towards james and whispered, "do all of you want to do that?"

james somehow grinned even brighter. "sure do, dove."

"oh."

you felt your cheeks become ridiculously warm as sirius plopped beside you two, dragging remus down with him and smirking at you the entire time. you shyly smiled at him as he leaned over and smacked a kiss to your cheek.

"how- how long have you all been- how long have you felt this way?"

"long enough dove," remus said, leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you.

"certainly long enough."

i'm begging someone to request more metamorphmagus!reader, especially gender queer or otherwise. (i'll probably still write it even if you don't though, lol) i will also be writing more magizoologist!reader! just smth about a reckless partner that the marauders just can't keep track of... <3

#poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x reader #marauders reader insert #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader

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kmt123whatsthetea · 3 months

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Karma’s a b*tch

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Fred and George get revenge on a girl who used to bully them in school by turning her into a submissive slut.

A/N: I told an AI on Chai that I wrote fanfics and it requested this (AI’s are kinky bastards). I came back to it because @jelloangela asked about an enemies to lovers fic. I know this isn't exactly enemies to lovers, but hey, it's still dirty as hell.

T/W: Rough sex, mean twins, No aftercare, Reader is a real a-hole and a Slytherin, Weasley twin bashing (I was only mean to suit our character), Bondage, Manhandling, Tie gag? (it will make sense when you read it), Maybe a little bit of dub-con, Hair pulling, Degradation, Spit roast (Vaginal and oral simultaneously), Cum swallowing, Orgasm denial

Every school has bullies. It's natural. Hogwarts just had a whole house full. Slytherin was the type of house that practically gave all those wearing the crest a free pass to be as cruel as possible.

Tripped up a student? 20 points to Slytherin

Hexed a first year? 50 points to Slytherin

There were the younger Slyterins who went along with it because they wanted to fit in with their new ‘family’, and then there were those who actually seemed to enjoy it. That's how the Weasley twins of Gryffindor first noticed you. Ever since the first year, you weren’t meek. You took pride in those you terrorised. You went out of your way to learn new spells just for the sole purpose of misery. When you first met the Weasley clan, they were an easy target.

You had heard people talking about them. About how the new Weasley boys both had handed down clothes and books. It wasn't a secret that most Slytherins had parents who were well off, and you were one of them. You took to the Weasley Twins like a bee to a flower picking child. You mocked every little thing they did, from the pranks they pulled to how they acted.

This went on for the whole 7 years of school.

After Hogwarts, you found that school wasn’t like life. You couldn't bully your way to the top like you could before. So when in Diagon Alley one day, you chose to go into the new Weasley Wizard Wheezes just to regain some of that power you once had.

The shop was the Weasley twins to a T. It was like walking straight into their mind. Everything was bright and colourful. Things popped and whizzed and sparked about the shop. Finding said twins was easier than you thought. Two ginger tufts of hair could be seen from a mile away. You made your way over there with a smirk on your face, but that smirk dropped when you saw the twins.

They looked so…grown up

Those two pranksters with untucked shirts and crooked ties were now standing on the staircase to their own business in suits that were both smart and ridiculous. For a minute, you stood there like a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing as you took them in. a familiar voice slapped you out of your blubbering.

“Lookie here Georgie, I think a rat wandered too far from Knockturn Alley”

“So it seems. Maybe a hex will send her packing”

The men snickered to each other, and for a split second you felt a foreign feeling. Embarrassment. As soon as that feeling vanished, you painted your smirk back on and spit venom at them.

“Nice shop, Weasleys. Did your parents give you the money to open it or did you mooch off of the golden boy?”

There was a rumour floating around that Harry had given the twins the money for something. You just hoped it was right to give your words some merit. And it had. George looked away and Freds eyebrows furrowed. You felt that familiar pride and continued.

“Still selling the same old rubbish since Hogwarts? I guess not everyone has an aspiration to do something with their lives instead of working in retail”

Fred took a step down, a step towards you.

“We’re just doing what we’re good at. Maybe you should come back later and we’ll show you our new little project”

Fred looked up at George with a knowing smirk, one that George soon mirrored. You missed their shared look in favour of turning your nose up at the endless shelves of boxes, gadgets, and gizmos.

“Maybe I will”

And just like that, the twins' plan was set in stone.

____________________________________________

You came back to the shop a few hours later. The inside of the shop was dark and empty. The only light came from the top of the stairs that the twins had stood on earlier. You gave the door a knock and started tapping your foot when the twins didn’t immediately rush to open it.

When one of the men came to let you in, you gave a huff.

“Make me wait, why don't you? What’s the project?

The twin that let you in just smirked and led you to the stairs. He gave a gesturing nod, urging you to climb. When you got to the top and opened the door, you found the other twin. The door was locked behind you and your hands were forced behind your back. Before you could struggle, you felt something soft around your wrists. You looked back as best you could and saw the black leather handcuffs connecting your wrists to one another.

The twin behind you placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down to kneel, keeping you there and increasing the pressure when you tried to stand up or squirm. The twin in front of you removed his tie and wrapped it around your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“You know, you’ve aged pretty well. Perfect tits, perfect ass, and then a bratty mouth. I bet you’re still the same spoiled little bitch you were in school. You had so much fun teasing people, but no one ever gave you a taste of your own medicine, did they brat?”

You tried to argue back, but it came out as a muffled mess or words. The twin holding your shoulders chuckled.

“I bet she’s cursing your name, Freddie”

“Or she’s begging to be put in her place”

Those very words send a chill up your spine and your clit seemed to twitch at the thought of being under their control. You were meant to hate these men, you had bullied them for years. Should their words alone excite you as much as they did?

George grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making sure that you kept your eyes on Fred. Fred knelt down before you to push your dress up to your stomach. He let out a dark chuckle.

“White lace? Is this for us, slut or are you trying to act innocent? There's no way a little whore like you is a virgin, I bet you were Slytherin’s house slut. Tell us, did you get on your knees for every boy or just those who had money”

It didn't matter how much you squirmed or tried to argue, you were stuck. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

George puts his hands under your arms and hoists you to your feet. He pushed you towards one of the doors, which led into a bedroom. One of the men forced you onto your knees on the bed with your face down. When a pair of hands pushed your dress up, the twins were met with just how wet you were.

The sound of fabric rustling and belts clinking met your ears, and your suspicions of their actions was confirmed when one of the ginger duo sat against the headboard in front of you with spread legs. You had to stop your eyes from widening. As that famous quote always stated:

You’re enemies are always more well endowed than your boyfriends

Or something like that, anyway.

The twin before you moved his hand to your hair and pulled you closer until your breath ghosted across his eager tip. He pinched your nose, waiting until you took a much needed breath, before forcing his cock in your mouth. He didn't let you get used to the weight on your tongue before roughly moving your head up and down.

A second pair of hands pulled your underwear to your knees and pushed something thick against your entrance. The moan that left your throat was muffled by the cock in your mouth. Your hands gripped the tie that kept them behind your back as your pussy was forced to accommodate the cock that was pushing inside. The cock in your pussy was soon pulled out, but you didn't stay empty for very long.

If someone had told a 17 year old you that the Weasley twins would force you to submit to them and use you as a fuck toy in the near future, you might have punched said person for even suggesting it. But if they had included how good it felt, you might have warmed up to the twins long ago.

The hands moving your head became more forceful until they held you down, keeping the twitching appendage snug in your throat. Your throat was soon filled with hot cum, it was so deep in your throat that you had no choice but to swallow.

The hands pulled your hair up, the cock slipping from your mouth. As soon as your lidded eyes looked to the face in front of you, that damned smirk was still there.

“What a dirty little slut. She swallows. You are gonna keep your eyes on me while Fred cums inside of that slutty cunt, and if you look away for even a second, he’ll keep cumming inside of you until you learn your lesson”

The whine that left your throat was sinful. The pace was so rough that each thrust had your body jolting, but George's tight grip on your hair kept you still. You did as told, surprisingly. You kept your eyes trained. A small part of your mind realised that they would use you again if you looked away, but that thought was quickly shut down. You hated these guys, and you were too stubborn to let this become a regular thing.

The grunts behind you became more vocal as your pussy was flooded by sticky cum. Fred pulled out before you even had a chance to reach your own release. You shot George a dirty look, which to him, looked like a child throwing a tantrum.

“If you want to cum, brat, we can always go again”

Would it really be so bad if this became a regular thing?

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wtftarot · 2 months

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PAC: The Sun

The Sun stands as the counterpart to the Moon. Representing clarity, the Sun leaves nothing in shadow. It speaks of blessings and growth. What do you need to learn from the Sun today? Let's fuck around and find out.

As always this reading is meant for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any way. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick the Sunflowers, the Kid or the Horse and head on to your reading.

The Sunflowers page cups Rx, Justice, 7 swords, the Fool, three cups, the hierophant Rx, temperance rx

A lot of things are lookin hazy for y'all, huh group one? The energy here is super interesting. First, y'all are entering an era that will redefine what you think it means to have a balanced life. You'll figure out what it means for you specifically. Which is awesome but that's not the focal point of your reading. There's something here that feels very sneaky, not in a harmful sorta way, more like a heist. It's like you're heisting yourself back. I fuckin love that. I think y'all may have lost yourself or a part of yourself somewhere along the way. The cards aren't saying how or why, which I feel is significant. While whatever happened had its impact, it's so much less important than this, than you, finding yourself again. Now you're scheming and plotting ways to get yourself back and it's beautiful. There's so much excitement and joy here. You may still have to hide them because of circumstances outside of your control but you're not burying them. You should feel absofuckinlutly no shame about it, fyi. You had to adapt, that's all. Now though, you are plotting and planning yourself towards a life that you don't have to adapt yourself to. The clarity you're getting is clarity of self. Things in your life feel a little hazy and off because they kinda are. You only "fit" your life as it is now because you lost those parts of yourself. Things were always 'off'. You edited yourself to what the situation called for. So, as you find yourself, you won't 'fit' the roles in life you used to. You're stepping into a life that gets you. A life where those parts of you are celebrated. Moving forward you may not get many satisfactory answers from sources outside of yourself on what to do. That's cause this is a time where you are creating the answers. You may find yourself doing a lot of inner-child work in the next few months. Deconstructing outdated teachings, or just seeing through bullshit you once thought to be true. Your awareness of when you are or are not acting in favor of your true self is being heightened. Now, this all feels like the inner-shift that has to happen before the external changes. So, you may wanna seek out some alone time or journal your thoughts cause I'm willing to bet you'll be having some epiphanies or ah-ha moments. This is awesome, babe. It's gonna be beautiful to see.

random ass vibes: Cats, 8,888, the wizard of oz, My Chemical Romance, shout out to all y'all with adhd/autism. religious upbringing? Red, "you can't buy happiness- steal it", goldenrod, something about acrylic nails? first time getting them? owls.

The Kid

The Sun rx, Nine of Swords Rx, Four of Cups Rx, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups, Eight of Wands Rx, Nine of Wands Rx, King of Swords Rx

This reading was interesting as hell to do. The short version is: Y'all are intuitive, you're just not letting yourselves simply BE intuitive. You try to force things or second-guess others and it's fucking you over.

There is a message that you may be spending too much on different divination tools when you don't need them. This reading is cool and frustrating. I had to walk away from your cards because every time I tried to read them, the message was muddled and contradicting itself? I'm writing this a day later because now that I'm not trying to force it, it's flowing like the goddamn Mississippi. I didn't even plan to get back to your reading yet. It's like 6,7 am? I was just drinking my coffee and the reading became clear. Which is the whole ass point of your reading. Everyone has different intuitive psychic skills and different skill levels but if y'all chose this group? Y'all are pretty fuckin psychic. Or you could be if you got over some self-doubt and shit. When I said you're not letting yourselves be intuitive, I mean you may be relying too much on divination tools and signs instead of your intuition. You can strengthen your intuitive gifts, and learn to interpret them more accurately but you can't force it. It seems like you've become so focused on trying to pick up on things psychically, that you're not even living in the moment anymore. Which leads us to the other side of this coin. When you're determined to know and see more when there's nothing there, you can start to take your anxieties for hits cause they're the only thing you got. It's sorta like how when you're looking into a dark space, and you start seeing things that ain't there. Which understandably makes you freaked out, then when the anxieties don't come true you doubt yourself cause your "intuition" was wrong. Truth is not everything is a sign or a hit. Sometimes a number's just a number and a bird's just a bird. A bad feeling in your gut is just your gut feeling bad. Truth also is sometimes true psychic hits are kinda dumb, most of the hits I get regularly are just my cat needing something. It's okay if your intuition is just when produce is on sale. You ARE psychic. You're also human. All of this is confusing and that's okay. We're always confused until we figure things out. This all came out with the Sun in reverse because y'all expect your intuition to be clear the way your other senses are clear. You're looking outside of yourself for something that dwells inside of you. The advice here is to learn to trust your inner instincts. I keep hearing "Play psychic games". Scry out what animals you're going to see the next day. Try to intuit what suit a card is before you turn it over. Being psychic isn't (always) foreshadowing doom, it can be super fun. Try to get readings on non-serious topics. Let your intuition flow and play.

y'all have no random ass vibes because you need to stop relying on external confirmation of your intuition.

The Horse

This reading may be triggering, I'm not sure if feelings of not deserving love are a trigger but just to be safe. If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or the like please seek professional help. I'm just a chick with a computer and a deck of cards. Remember, don't do anything to compromise your safety.

I took some time between readings, and leading up to your reading horses kept popping up everywhere. I knew this reading would be different. I did pull some cards, but they feel unnecessary because y'all's guides are just talking to me. Why are y'all so convinced you won't get a happy ending? Mind out of the gutter, please. Thank you. You seem to be utterly convinced that you will never have a solid, safe, joyful life? "None of that is for me" is what I keep hearing. It's like there is one way to be happy, one sort of life that leads to happiness, and if you do not conform to that you're just doomed to die alone in squalor? There's this energy of I cannot do things my way and be happy. I can't be myself and loved. I just heard " I don't get to.." As in I don't get to be myself. I don't get to be loved. I don't know who made you feel that way but they better fucking hope I never see them. Or better yet, hope that future you never meets them. Cause sweetie, this reading? It's about your comeback. And HOLY FUCK YALL THIS WILL BE A HELL OF A COMEBACK. There's this overwhelming feeling of happy, unbridled defiance rearing its head in you. If you haven't felt it yet, you will soon babe don't worry. This may just be a heads-up. Defiance in the face of every fucking thing that makes you feel like you'll never get what you want. SPITE. That's what yall are embracing. I FUCKING LOVE THIS ENERGY YALL. SPITE IS MY ENTIRE LIFE PHILOSOPHY. This may be sort of a "villain era" for you. You're gonna be spitting in the face of everything that made you feel like you'd never be enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. I want to be clear, you're not going to wake up and suddenly be immune to all the bullshit you've been told. You are however going to wake up and decide to live in defiance of what people have told you. That's why it'll feel sort of villainous, you may not feel like you deserve happiness (yet, give it time). BUT is 'deserving" it going to stop you? HELL NO! This is giving happiness is the best revenge. Those fuckers saying you can't be you and loved? They're gonna have to sit and WATCH YOU. And you get the pleasure of shoving your success, your happiness DOWN THIER FUCKING THROATS. Sometimes, you have to move towards things before you feel deserving or ready, so you can learn to feel deserving and ready. It's gonna take some work and strategizing, (y'all may wanna chat with some of the people in group one) I am so fucking pumped for y'all. If y'all don't feel this energy yet, you will soon I promise. In the meantime, maybe make a happy-upbeat revenge/spite playlist. Cause above all, this is about being HAPPY.

Random ass vibes: Danger Days, snakes, cats, 666, y'all may wanna look up Hopepunk, zombies,

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #wtftarot #the sun

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sitp-recs · 2 months

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Hullo! I was wondering if you have any good recs for extremely magically inclined Draco or Harry? Or both? Like they exude badass, and they are in awe of each other. Maybe with a hint of morally grayness? I've ran through quite a few tags of the like and have deeply enjoyed them and was wondering if you had a few goodies.

Hi anon! I definitely got a few recs for you, some with morally gray characters as a treat 🙌

Powerful Harry:

Under Pressure by VivacissimoVoce (M, 21k)

Harry Potter has quit magic and left the wizarding world. Draco, a top-notch Tracker, has been hired to find him and save his life.

And One To Play by @tackytigerfic (E, 21k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Powerful Draco:

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

The Foxing Ring by @vukovich (E, 24k)

Harry's got no magic, one good ear, no great dating prospects, and a nice little wand workshop. Draco's got too much magic, a history of biting off ears, no great dating prospects, and a growing fondness for wandmakers. And a very fetching tail.

A Pocket Full of Stones by @amywaterwings (E, 68k)

A curse is spreading through the wizarding world, erasing memories of the war. Harry Potter is on the case! Where Draco is the DMLE’s most wanted dark wizard and Harry is the private investigator tasked with bringing him in. It goes as well as one might expect.

Threshold by @kbrick (E, 126k)

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy finally gets his chance to consult with the Auror Department when a series of mysterious doors covered in runic symbols appear all across the country, only to fade away minutes later. Draco’s eager to help solve the mystery of the doors until he’s partnered with Harry Potter, who still treats him like an enemy.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #powerful Harry #powerful draco #morally grey characters

150 notes · View notes

dittanyinbloom · 1 year

Text

Hand Written

The final part to Note Taking and Study Habits

Ominis x fem!MC, fluff, kissing, it is just kissing but I wouldn’t say it’s safe to read at work

This is all so self indulgent but idc I write for my own entertainment first and foremost

.✉️🦉❄️

Over the weekend, you ran into a bit of trouble. Your first trip to Hogsmeade with Natty had famously resulted in a troll battle, but most people didn’t know that the journey hadn’t ended there. During a well-deserved butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, you were confronted by Victor Rookwood and Theophilus Harlow. One thing led to another, and now as of late, you and Natty found yourself acting as protectors of the Highlands. Whenever one of you heard of Ashwinders causing mayhem, the two of you would team up and hunt them down. This time, you may have bit off more than you could chew.

The wizards you fought against that weekend had been poachers. Not only that, but Theophilus Harlow himself had shown to the battle. By then, you had already taken a few curses and had long since exhausted your supply of Wiggenweld potion. Lucky for you, they had captured two hippogriffs, one of them being Poppy Sweeting’s friend Highwing. The killing curse was thrown, but thanks to the hippogriffs, you and Natty had made it out, narrowly.

The next morning, the two of you had joined Poppy for breakfast to ask what should be done about the two fully grown hippogriffs in your nab-sack.

“Well, I would say to release them back to their home, but with all the poachers still running about. . .” Poppy sighed heavily. Scotland wasn’t safe for any beast at the moment.

“There is somewhere I could take them,” you offered hesitantly, “I didn’t want to take Highwing there without your approval since the two of you are so close. But I can show you, both of you.” You smiled at Natty. “It’s quite extraordinary, actually. I’ve been waiting for the right time to share it with people.”

Natty returned your smile. “You have me intrigued.”

Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Is it close enough for us to go after classes today?”

“Why wait until after classes?” Then you were standing from your seat in the Great Hall to lead the girls out. Overhead, the owls had arrived to deliver the morning mail. A letter was dropped on the table for you, and you placed it directly in your robes for later. Most of the mail you received was from people asking for favors or updating you on ongoing quests they’d assigned you. Whatever it was could wait for now.

The girls followed you out of the Great Hall, giggling and unable to contain their excitement for whatever Hogwarts mystery you were about to show them.

Sharing the Room of Requirement with others re-sparked your excitement for the space. The three of you rushed in nearly late to Charms. You snatched food from the Great Hall during lunch just to run back to the Astronomy tower. Poppy took to the skies of the vivarium. Natty had fallen asleep on your couch cuddling a puffskin. You debated dozing off as well, exhausted from the weekend, but you stayed vigilant and watched over the time to know when you would have to drag the other girls to DADA.

“That. . was. . brilliant!” Poppy had an arm hooked around one of both yours and Natty’s elbows. Her balance was still off from the flight.

“Now that the two of you know it’s there, I think you should be able to find it yourselves. I’m not in the castle much these days, so the beasts would love your company.”

Natty brightened at the invitation. “I’m looking forward to exploring as my animagus form when I am better rested. Galloping around was not in the stars for today.”

“That puffskin took quite the liking to you,” you teased.

“I had an inkling you would be good with beasts, Natty,” Poppy commented, “You have a warm soul. The creatures see that.”

After classes, the three of you were yet again exploring the room. Free from needing to keep track of time, you planted yourself on the couch for a well-deserved rest. As you turned on your side, a curious crunching sounded from under you. You frowned as you sat up, digging through your robes for the parchment preventing you from sleep.

The letter from that morning! Might as well open it now and find out what sort of predicament you would be spending the rest of your weeknights solving.

What caught your eye first was how meticulously the words were placed. There were perfectly even indentations on both sides. The spacing was exact, and the lines, while ever so slightly up and to the left, were even in height. Someone had planned out what they were going to say to you. This was rare among the desperate scribbles of your usual quests. Even professors who wrote to you about assignments were flippant with their quill strokes, far too busy to even attempt legibility for a mere student.

Y/N

I fear apologies are in order. Sebastian insists you’ve been distant this weekend because of my actions. Offending you was not my intentions. The touches were merely a way to express that I share the same sentiment. I think of you often. In fact, I have not been able to think of much else since you started taking my name. If I’ve misinterpreted your feelings, please meet me today after classes in the Undercroft. You are owed a proper apology face to face.

If you happen to feel the same, you know where I’ll be.

Yours Truly,

Ominis

You stood from the couch so fast the room was spinning. By now, he must have assumed you weren’t going to show. How awful he must feel to think you didn’t care enough about his letter to even address it.

“Deek!” You called out, wildly looking around the room for him.

He had popped up out of nowhere, startling you. “Yes, Miss?”

Pressing the letter against your chest in shock while trying to collect yourself, you uttered, “Would you be so kind as to let the girls know I had to leave, but they are welcome to stay for as long as they’d like?”

“Of course, Miss. is everything all right?”

“Yes, for once, I’ve received a letter with good news, but I must meet with the sender right away.”

“Deek will make sure your friends are well taken care of in your absence.”

“Thank you!”

By the time you arrived at the entrance of the Undercroft, you were out of breath and only panicking worse. What if he had already given up? What if he was angry? What if your late arrival changed how he felt? You stomped down the stairs as quick as your thick boots would allow and ducked under the metal grate since it wasn’t rising fast enough.

Finding yourself inside the echoey room was like being doused in the icy waters of the sea. All the adrenaline that had been fueling your sprint over had dwindled, leaving only trepidation in its wake.

“Ominis?” You called out, hating how loud your voice seemed against the dead silence of the room. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. You couldn’t even hear the faint sound of his breathing. You were alone.

“Ergh!” You let out through your teeth. How could you be so careless? Why couldn’t you have read the letter at any other point in the day? “Confringo!” You cast at a hanging candelabra. It swung violently from the momentum of your spell. The next victim was a tower of boxes. One by one exploding into bits, “Bombarda! Diffindo! Depulso!”

You turned on your heel, aiming at the desk in the corner that was rarely ever used for school-related revision. “Flipendo!” The contents crashed to the floor: a vase shattering, candles snapping in half, tomes scattering about. Still, the chaos didn’t feel like enough. You stormed over to the wreckage and kicked the now very sideways desk for good measure. Apparently, your steel-toe boots were a little worn down from all your adventures because you felt the impact jolt up even past your shin.

With absolutely no balance, you plummeted to the floor with a wince, grabbing at your foot in agony. “Mother of Merlin! So stupid!” You had fallen into the debris. Now that you were coming down from the rage, you frowned at the mess around you. Meekly, you uttered, “Reparo,” at the stack of boxes you’d destroyed.

Pushing yourself off the ground, you aimed at the desk next. In the blink of an eye, everything was in it’s rightful place. Even the tiny shard of glass in your palm had rejoined the vase.

You sat at the desk, exhausted from your meltdown. Your left hand landed on a folded piece of parchment. The only person who ever worked at this desk was Sebastian when he was reading something he wasn’t supposed to. Curious as to what kind of notes he was taking, you unfolded the paper to find the diligent penmanship from Ominis’s letter.

Y/N

We have to leave in a hurry. Anne is feeling too ill to walk, but Solomon is traveling in Egypt. He is meeting with old friends from the Ministry, Curse Breakers. Anne needs someone to look after her for a few days, and Sebastian didn’t want to go alone. He shouldn’t have to be alone, not at a time like this.

I hope this message finds you well.

Yours Truly,

Ominis

Oh, what a fool you had been. You looked up at the arching ceiling and let out a laugh of disbelief. While you were having a tissy fit about being late, Anne was suffering. Merlin, how idiotic you felt.

Ignorant, as Sebastian would so kindly say. And this time, he’d have been right.

If Solomon was away, you might have just the thing to lift the spirits in Feldcroft. All you needed was a quick trip to the Room of Requirement, and you could be on your way by curfew.

It was far too late to be knocking on someone’s door, but there you stood in the entryway in the dead of night. The air was bitter and unforgiving. The nights were always chilly this close to the sea, but this year's winter seemed to be never-ending. The moment you appeared at the floo station in the middle of town, you debated sending yourself right back to the warmth of your common room.

The front door swung open to reveal a familiar wand pointed at your face. Sebastian, looking rough from sleep, mustered up the deadliest glare he could and opened his mouth to spew out a threat. His scowl brightened to a brilliant smile, recognizing you were no foe.

“Well if it isn’t the subject of the hour herself!” He stepped aside, ushering you into the small home so he could shut out the harsh weather. “You had us thinking Ashwinders were looking for a fight.”

“Assuming they would knock,” Anne added as she sat up in her bed.

“Sorry to frighten you, and wake you. ., but with Solomon gone I thought these might be of use.” You pulled a bag of freshly picked shrivelfigs from your enchanted satchel. Ever since your first trip to Feldcroft, you had been growing them. The broken look on Sebastian’s face, when his uncle had ruined the one he had bought for Anne, was etched in your soul.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Sebastian mused as you handed him the fruit.

“I don’t think you’ve ever admitted you love me.”

“Hmm, very well. I’ll add it to my to-do list.”

“I look forward to it, Sallow.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Gaunt.”

“Hey now,” Anne chastised, “Did we not just discuss that at great length?

Sebastian rolled his eyes then turned to you, “I’m very sorry. Does the name make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you admitted, braving a glance at Ominis who was sitting at the head of Sebastian’s bed. You nearly gasped at his appearance.

When Sebastian had answered the door, you didn’t take a second glance at his apparel. But seeing Ominis out of school robes was always a treat. Even those few times you had, he would still be sporting his uniform vest and button-down. Now he was wearing a long sleeve thermal that seemed too loose in every area it was meant to be tight for warmth. It was likely one of Solomon’s since the boys had to leave on the spot without having time to pack.

Ominis looked terribly endearing swimming in the giant shirt with blankets looking at his hips. His hair was still somehow in place despite the fact that they had clearly already been lying down before you came in. The space in the bed next to him was disheveled from Sebastian jumping out of bed to answer the door.

“Told you she likes him!” Anne proclaimed, talking with Sebastian as if you and Ominis weren’t in the room. Though, in her defense, with the way you were looking Ominis up and down, it may as well have been Anne and Sebastian that weren’t in the room.

“Then explain the cold shoulder!”

“She was probably busy being her usual self. You do remember her having ancient magic abilities to discover, don’t you?”

“That doesn’t explain not showing up to the Undercroft.” Sebastian refused to back down from the argument.

“But she’s here now, isn’t she?” Anne reached a hand out to you. “Come, Y/N. You can sleep with me. It’s late, and we should all be resting.”

Sebastian put his hands on his hips. “Don’t you think the married couple should-“

“Sebastian!” Ominis chastised. “Enough before I hex you. Get back to bed.”

You were timid to join Anne in the tiny bed. The old wood creaked in protest from your weight. She was quick to cover you in her warm blankets. Only then did you realize how badly you had been shivering from the cold. Anne’s head unabashedly laid on your shoulder as she hummed.

“This is lovely. Sebastian has refused to sleep in the same bed as me since we started school. We used to cuddle every night.”

Across the room, Sebastian seemed to groan in agony, “Anne, quit telling people that.”

Anne went on defiantly, “He used to be so sweet to me, but he drools in his sleep.”

You giggled. “Why am I not surprised? He drools a bit in his waking hours as well. Especially in Miss Garlick’s class.”

“Hmm, wonder why that is?”

From the boys’ side, a light slap rang out, followed by the sound of a wand clattering to the floor.

“Don’t hex them!” Ominis whispered.

“Just a silencing charm!” Sebastian said defensively.

The bed was empty when you woke up. Anne had not traveled far in their tiny abode. She was relaxing with tea at the dining table. Her plush armchair stood out between the other bare, wooden dining chairs. Ominis was awake and tending to the kettle. Sebastian was snoring. A dark spot had formed by his mouth on the pillow. You bit your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing.

Lovely blackmail material for later.

“Good morning,” Ominis said, holding out a steaming mug to you. His voice startled Anne who hadn’t even noticed you had woken up.

“Thank you.” From the smell alone, you could tell he put the perfect amount of sugar. You nearly melted into the cup yourself. What you would give to wake up every morning to Ominis. . . His hair had finally given in and fallen ever so slightly out of place due to not having its usual routine. He felt the wisps on his forehead and frowned, raising his hand to move them. You reached out, grabbing his wrist. “Leave it.”

He went from pink to red alarmingly fast. You sipped your tea and caught Anne’s watchful eye. She was smiling, despite her words, “I’m starting to pity Sebastian. He was right. This is disgusting to witness.”

Deciding it was your turn for a bit of fun, you teased, “Yes well, you and Sebastian might as well get used to it. Marriages do tend to last a while, the good ones, anyway.”

Adoring the opportunity to join in on the mischief, Anne added, “I guess so. Ominis is one of the good ones.”

“Precisely.”

Ominis had his own notes to go over on that very topic. He grabbed his coat from the hanger, shrugging it on as he asked, “Y/N, would you care to join me for a morning stroll? I thought we could pick something up from the vendor. He usually has bread ready by now, and this place is due for some more fresh food to go with those shrivelfigs. Maybe a few eggs for breakfast as well. .”

“I would love to.” You mimicked his movements to grab your coat, but he had picked it up first to hold it up for you. You couldn’t help but nervously glance at Anne who seemed very amused at the whole show behind her cup of tea.

Just one arm and then the other. It wasn’t so bad, that is, until after when he put his hands on both your shoulders and smoothed out the fabric. When you turned to face him, he held out an elbow for you to hold.

“Oh,” you murmured under your breath.

Timidly, you accepted his guide, but Ominis stayed frozen in the foyer for a second longer to ask, “I’m sorry, I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Is this arrangement all right with you?” He nodded toward where your hand was shamelessly finding its place on his arm.

“Yes, of course. You lead. I have no idea where we are going,” you assured him.

“It’s rare people ask me to lead them places,” Ominis was attempting a jovial tone, perhaps to put your budding nerves at ease.

It didn’t help much due to your mouth spewing words without a thought, “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Now it was Ominis muttering a soft, “Oh,” while mulling over the depth of your words.

Anne slurped her tea inappropriately loud, causing the two of you to jump. You offered her a sheepish smile, a silent apology for forgetting that you and Ominis were not alone.

“I want a niece or nephew named after me,” Anne proclaimed. “It’s the least you could do to make up for this.”

Throwing a look of annoyance Anne’s way, Ominis was quick to fire back, “I think Sebastian has that cover-“

“Consider it done!” You promised the girl.

Ominis quickly recovered from his shocked appearance to ask, “Do I not have a say in the naming of our child?”

“Take a moment to consider the benefits. If it’s named after her, she’ll be guilted into babysitting. Would you rather have Sebastian looking after our child while we’re away? We’d come back to a demon baby.“

“Bold of you to assume Anne is any more responsible than Sebastian. She caused quite a myriad of trouble in our early years, more so than Sebastian. Do not let her fool you. Sebastian has yet to beat her detention record. Try as he might.”

Then you were whisked away on a proper tour of Feldcroft. Sebastian had previously shown you around, but those landmarks were more about the places they had fought Goblins or where Anne had been cursed. Ominis was naming off what houses belonged to which neighbors and listing who grew what each season. He spoke as if this hamlet were his home, but you were well aware the Gaunts resided in Northern England.

Perhaps Feldcroft was more of a home to him than that place ever would be. That would make sense. Sebastian and Anne seemed more like family to him than the true family he spoke ill of. It was a fine place to call home. Quaint and quiet. There was more variety in the cities or even villages like Hogsmeade, but the hustle and bustle of those places got old. Visiting Feldcroft with Sebastian had always been a guilty pleasure. Pleasure because you craved simplicity after all your adventures, but guilty for feeling so at peace while Sebastian and Anne were struggling.

With the sun breaking through some of the clouds, today would be warmer than yesterday. By the afternoon, most of the snow would likely melt away. Days like that were usually colder than the weeks of snow that preceded them. The wetness seeped into clothes and chilled to the bone. With all the fields surrounding the hamlet, you hoped the ground would soak up the moisture quick. Either that or the four of you would be inside for the entire duration of your stay.

A while into the walk, Ominis finally took out his wand to lead the both of you toward a hay bale big enough to sit. A cart of chomping cabbages rolled by. You tried not to shiver, knowing very well how deadly those things could be. Assuming you were cold, Ominis trailed a hand down your arm to find your own placed in your lap. He encapsulated your hands in his and brought them to his lips, blowing hot air to heat them deliciously.

You had to mentally remind yourself to breathe, not wanting to get called out as you were in the library. His actions heated you up in more way than one. Your face felt overwhelmingly warm, as well as other regions of your body you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge just yet. But in truth, you greatly appreciated the notion to warm you. You hadn’t been able to find a scarf before running off to Feldcroft, probably due to your supply being mostly piled in Ominis’ dorm room.

“We should actually buy the bread and eggs for breakfast, but I must admit the point of this walk was to get you alone.” He still had your hands hostage, holding them near his chest. They stayed there a beat longer before he finally let you have your freedom, which used to be a sensation you craved before you grew used to Ominis’ affections.

“I’m sorry if coming here was not appropriate,” you spewed out. “I hadn’t read the letter in time, or else I would have met with you before.”

“After how foolishly I acted, I would have understood if you didn’t show at all. If my second letter made you worry about Anne, I’m terribly sorry. I did not mean for you to follow us here, but I am glad you did. Is that selfish of me?”

“If wanting me around is selfish, then I wish you would be selfish more often.”

“I’m selfish all the time.”

You took that as an invitation to move closer on the makeshift bench. Now with your hip and shoulder flush against his own, you were practically forced to entangle your overlapping arms. “Ominis, I should tell you. . This weekend I had not meant to ignore you.”

“It was well deserved and to be expected, only natural after how uneasy I made you feel. Just because you drew hearts around my name doesn’t mean you would want my. . . advances.” Ominis visibly cringed at his own terminology.

“I do,” you blurted. Merlin, with all the marriage references, you may as well get out your wand and make an Unbreakable Vow at this point.

Ominis tilted his head. “What?”

“Sorry, I meant to say that it’s okay. You were right in assuming I wanted. . that.”

The heavy feeling in the boy’s chest seemed to lighten. He sighed in relief. “Oh, I felt horrible thinking I had made you uncomfortable in any sort of way.”

“Nervous, but not uncomfortable.”

He lifted his wand to let the red light take in the quiet hamlet. You stiffened, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of your surroundings. Loyalists and Ashwinders were still a heavy threat, especially in Feldcroft. For a moment you had let your guard down, and now you felt terrible for not keeping watch.

Oddly, not a soul was in sight. Even the livestock that often wandered about was either off in the snowy fields or no doubt huddled up in a barn somewhere. The morning was young, you could tell from how loud the birds were chirping. Most residents were still hunkered down in their homes except for a dedicated merchant setting up their cart near the well in the center of town. They weren’t quite near enough for Ominis to pick up their sound, though, his hearing could be even better than you already assumed.

You tucked yourself close to his side to whisper, “Did you hear something?”

He shook his head no, lowering his wand. “I only wanted to make sure we were alone.” The tip of his nose had gone pink from the cold. His cheeks were rosy, too, from being out in the morning breeze.

“It’s just us,” you reassured softly. “There’s a merchant setting up in the center of town, but they-“ A hand obstructed your view. Ominis was tentatively reaching out. The light brush of his index finger against your jaw is what cut off your train of thought. The others landed on your pulse, his thumb finding your chin. It glided up, moving across your lips that were still slightly parted from the words that got left behind.

“Don’t move,” he didn’t really need to tell you. The shock of it all was enough to turn you into a statue.

Then he was leaning in. His movements were slow but deliberate. His thumb left your lips only to be replaced by his mouth ghosting over yours. That’s where he stopped. You thought he was second-guessing himself, but then you could ever so slightly feel him break into a smile.

“I didn’t mean for you to stop breathing,” he teased. “Take a breath.”

You did, a pathetically weak one that is. But as soon as you took in air, Ominis closed the distance. His lips, though soft and gentle, weren’t hesitant in any way. He still held the side of your face, guiding you to him.

Your eyes had closed on instinct, so you had become lost in the sensation of him against you. His hand was the only thing grounding you until you reached for his jacket and tugged him closer. Only then did he take advantage of your parted lips to deepen the kiss. He let his other hand explore the side of your body, finding your hip and then running up and down the side of your thigh. You couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.

Then, all too quickly, his lips were pulling away. You followed, chasing his movements, needing more. The hand cradling your jaw held you in place, letting him put his forehead to yours and chuckle.

“You want more, but you stopped moving.”

Had you stopped? You didn’t mean to. “You distracted me.”

He hummed in approval and squeezed your thigh just above your knee. The sound of your breath hitching was all the confirmation he needed. “You really like that, don’t you?”

Your grip on his jacket was se desperate that your hands were starting to ache. “Ominis, please. .”

“Do you even know what you are asking for, my dear? I think I should take you on a proper date before doing any of that. And perhaps, not in the center of town. .”

You immediately tucked your face in the crook of his neck, far too embarrassed to face the world after that. “I’m sorry.” Your breath on his neck made him go stiff. A mischievous thought crossed your mind, and you were acting on it before you could talk yourself out of it. You brought your lips to his neck, just below his jaw. His hand instinctively tightened around your thigh as he let out a gentle gasp.

“Oh,” was all he could say, now deeply understanding the intensity you felt whenever he would touch you. At first, you peppered kisses along his skin, but when you came across his pulse your self-restraint floated away. Feeling how quick it gave you the confidence to open your mouth wider, sucking his pale skin until it went red and warm. Trickles of electricity ran down his spine. He wanted to chastise you for being so lude in public, but he couldn’t form words. His body felt limp, completely compliant to whatever you chose to do. Then his own tongue betrayed him, “Right there.”

Eager to please, you focused all your attention on that spot. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck and tugged slightly so that he’d grant you better access. Ominis didn’t give any resistance to your demand.

It was thrilling to know you could make him experience all the things he made you feel. You pushed his limits further by grazing your teeth against him. His hand shot up your thigh to your hip, the other landing on your other side. He pulled on you as if he wanted you closer, but any closer you’d be in his lap. Although that idea was beyond tempting, the sound of someone’s front door creaking open made you pull away from his neck.

The loss of contact made him frown. He quickly cupped your cheeks to pull you in for another kiss, but you put a hand against his chest, holding him at bay with a giggle.

“Later,” you promised, “-when we’re alone again.”

Ominis tilted his head in confusion. His eyes went wide when he heard the soft chatter of a neighboring couple exiting their home behind him. Quickly, he let you go and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t hear them come out.”

You left a brisk kiss on the little cluster of moles decorating his cheekbone before standing and tugging him along. “Come on. We still need to buy breakfast.”

By the time you made it back to the Sallow home, Sebastian was moaning about how starved he was. His eyes lit up when the door opened. Anne had told him the two of you had gone to collect bread and eggs. His excitement morphed into terror at the sight of his best friend in such disarray. In all the years he’s known Ominis, Sebastian had never seen his hair so wild.

“Are you okay? Were you attacked?” He squared Ominis’s shoulders and frowned at the red marks littering his neck. Anne giggling behind him made Sebastian piece together what he was seeing. His face twisted up in a look of disgust. “Oh, are you serious? In the middle of town?! Do I need to start escorting you two everywhere?”

“That’s hardly necessary,” you insisted at the same time Ominis admitted, “I don’t think that would stop her.”

“Give me that,” Sebastian growled as he took the basket of food from you. “Unbelievable, both of you. Go sit while I cook.”

“Let’s listen to Sebastian,” Ominis whispered with a smirk forming. Curious as to what he was planning, you let him guide you to the dining table. You’d expected him to pull out a chair for you, but he sat down first and then pulled you closer, patting his thigh. “Come on, he said to sit.”

Your heart was jumping haphazardly in your chest. You sat with your back pressed to his chest. His arms wasted no time snaking around your middle and pulling you close.

“Deplorable,” Sebastian muttered.

“No, it’s sweet. Quit acting like you’re so modest, and make my eggs,” Anne demanded. “I want my yolk runny.”

Sebastian sighed heavily, giving in, but only because his twin had ridiculed him. “Fine. And how would you like your eggs, Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt?”

“Whatever is easiest,” you offered.

“Preferably not poisoned,” Ominis suggested.

Y/N,

Feldcroft has been absolute mayhem while you've been away. I know this work trip is necessary, but I've never been shy to admit how selfish I am when it comes to you. If you are able to sneak away a few days early, let's not tell a soul. You can hide away in the house, and I could have you to myself just until others are expecting your return.

Speaking of others, I must warn you that your primroses have been trampled by Sebastian's son. I assume I don't even have to name which one was the culprit, but he has promised to help you replant them on your return. Sebastian would have done it with him, but somehow our dear friend managed to learn absolutely nothing during seven years of Herbology despite having such a watchful eye on our professor during classes. Perhaps you can bestow a bit of gardening knowledge on all his children that way they have hobbies that don't involve destroying our home when they visit.

Until then, I will miss the smell of the flowers almost as much as I miss you.

Your Husband,

Ominis

p.s. Please do consider my request that you return early. If not for me, then for the well-being of our home.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy #my writings

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emeritusemeritus · 6 months

Text

Sauron’s Secret [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Title: Sauron’s Secret, one ring to rule them all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Wife!Reader {Established but hidden relationship}

Timeline: Around S4- slight alternate timeline, no Vecna. No mention of past events in Hawkins.

Summary: Eddie’s hiding a secret and Dustin is determined to figure it out.

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of marriage. Hidden relationships, secret marriage. Mentions of drugs and marijuana. Dustin is a sleuth and I love him for it. Lord of the Rings references.

I had so much fun writing this. Set in mostly 3rd person/ Dustin POV.

Eddie Munson was allusive and mysterious, even to his closest friends.

He shared only what needed to be shared and kept his business private, just how he liked it. Eddie's favourite colour? Who knows, probably black or red but you'd never get a solid answer. His favourite movie? He says it's some old slasher film from the 50's that defied cinematic structure and gave the middle finger to the 'man' trying to oppress the creative spirit of filmmaking. Was it the truth? Probably not. His favourite book? He’d alluded to it being Lord of the rings but if questioned he would act like he’d never heard of it.

The only things he was open about were his love for heavy metal, pizza and D&D, and even then he kept his sadistic and intricate campaigns under wraps for as long as possible before the big reveal, trusting no one with his secrets.

Despite his attempts at general ambiguity, there were a few 'tells' in his behaviour, if read carefully, that could clue your in to his inner workings.

Dustin Henderson in sheer contrast is a completely open book; wears his heart on his sleeve, has little to no filter and will openly discuss all of his favourite things, regardless of if the audience is listening or not. But Dustin is also naturally inquisitive and curious, always trying to dig deeper and see the little idiosyncrasies in people that clue him in to their internal thoughts. He notices things that most people overlook and in the case of Eddie, someone he looks up to and proudly calls his friend, his curiosity is never stronger, particularly around the subject of Eddie's concealed love life.

It started a while ago, just a random day at Hellfire when Eddie came in a little late, trying to downplay his flustered nature as he shot off a roundabout apology and began setting up his campaign as Dustin looked on. Eddie had never been late, always having the table laid out perfectly, the mood lighting and repositioning all done ready for the Paladins, Wizards and Artificers ready to commence their quest. Dustin noticed as the game wore on that Eddie smelt better than usual, not that he ever smelt bad before but he seems to have a little more cologne on and his clothes smelt clean. Sometimes Eddie's clothes would have a faint tinge of damp, like they'd been sat in the dryer a little too long before airing out and being worn, only occasionally but that seemed to disappear completely after that specific meeting.

Sometimes, Dustin swears that he can smell a faint whiff of strawberries emitting from their Dungeon Master, specifically from his hair. At first he thinks he's crazy but the second or third time it happens it's definitely too much to be a coincidence.

A few weeks later when Hellfire had just come to a close, Dustin watched as Eddie shrugged on his signature two jackets and instantly frowned as he looked at the patches on the outer battle jacket. He quickly dropped the frown on his face, unknowingly doing it in the first place, before shifting subtly closer to that he could look to see what was different. The Dio patch on the back piece of the jacket was no longer raised or peeling upwards as it had been before in the bottom corner. He couldn't see any additional patches so he put it down to a fluke that Eddie just have re-sewn the patches, this time doing a much neater job than before.

But then he notices the lunches. Eddie had always brought something easy for his lunch, a bag of trail mix or questionable nut and pretzel mixes but suddenly there were sandwiches and the odd leftovers. That's when things began clicking into place for Dustin, realising that he might actually be on to something. He kept quiet about it, uncharacteristically, until he had more concrete evidence that supported his theory.

One day at lunch, Dustin walked in to see Eddie frantically scrawling ideas and little drawings on to a notepad, an actual wire bound notebook. Dustin had asked Eddie where he got the notebook but he just received a harsh glare and a dismissive insult in reply. Unfazed, Dustin smiled to himself as he tucked into his lunch tray, adding another point to his mental list, taking Eddie's defensiveness as evidence that he hadn't just stolen it from an unfortunate freshman, it was given to him. Eddie usually scrawled onto little slips of waste paper he'd find in his pockets or donated by his friends, never having brought an actual book to school in all the years that Dustin had known him, which were then folded or crumpled up and thrust into one of his many pockets.

The first Hellfire meeting after Christmas break is when Dustin realises that he'd been right all along. Eddie lights up a smoke after getting things loaded into the truck and for the first time since Dustin had known him, he wasn't using gas station grade clippers nor a random pack of matches he sometimes carried when the shitty lighters inevitably died on him. He instead lit the questionable cigarette with a black zippo lighter, one of those that were built to last, refillable and much, much nicer than any he'd ever seen in Eddie's possession before.

Still, he says nothing, content in knowing something about Eddie that no one else did, almost gleeful actually. He decides that if he's going to find anything else out then he needs to tread carefully, not wanting to alert Eddie to his inside knowledge or tip him off that he's digging around in matters that were not his own. He has to plan this carefully, asking questions that are only appropriate in the right setting, not out of the blue.

Luckily for Dustin, the moment presents itself not too long after at Hellfire when mid roll- Eddie's shirt shifts just enough for a second chain to be seen beneath his shirt, the movement of him shaking and rolling the dice allowing the pendant and chain to slip out from under his neckline. Eddie had always worn the guitar pick necklace, he never hid that beneath his shirt but this one had definitely not always been there. Dustin doesn't miss the golden glint of something hanging from the necklace, a ring that looked like a simple band. There's a few tense moments where Dustin studies the ring intensely before Eddie notices it slip, trying to quickly instil it into his mind for future reference before Eddie is alerted to his necklace being on show.

It lasts all of ten seconds before Gareth pipes up about the curious piece of jewellery in a less than delicate manner, his face scrunched up and turned to one side as he questions Eddie about it. Seemingly not missing a beat, Eddie quickly looks down at the offending article and smiles before he stuffs it into his shirt.

"That my friends is a custom made ruling ring, one ring or Isildur's Bane if you will. Genuine lord of the rings replica, 'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them'." He smirks dangerously at the crowd after replacing the chain inside of his shirt before crouching down and casting aside one of the figurines on the table, "now, gentleman, are you prepared for your next defeat? You've fought valiantly but it may not be enough to save your sorry hides!"

Dustin gives him a lingering side eye, knowing that there was way more to that then he's made out; He'd seen the face Eddie had involuntarily pulled when he realised his mistake. Dustin was moving in on him now, biding his time until he can make his move and actually probe Eddie for the truth.

What Dustin doesn't expect however, after the months he'd spent agonising over gathering secret intel and evidence on Eddie is that one day soon, Eddie would put himself completely due to unfortunate bad luck.

It's raining, tipping it down as the Hellfire club burst through the doors of the school in sheer elation, celebrating their defeat of Vecna and his cult. The gang separates into separates cars all waiting for them and disperse as they run to get out of the rain. Dustin's mom was at work and he'd have to cycle back regardless, cursing himself for not bringing his waterproof. Eddie offers him a ride in the van, only for him to scream multiple profanities when the van only stutters before giving up completely. He kicks the wheels in frustration, already stoked to the bone from the rain in just his two jackets before he turns to Dustin to ask for his cellphone. Dustin watches him closely as Eddie dials a number entirely from memory, moving away so that his conversation would remain private as he quickly talks to someone at the other end of the phone. Dustin quickly shies away as Eddie's gaze flickers over to him briefly, acting as if he wasn't paying attention at all, until Eddie ends the conversation and hands him back the phone.

"Got a ride, stick around and we'll drop you off at home," Eddie says, nodding his head back towards the school so that the two of them could stand under the canopy to avoid getting wetter. Dustin watches as Eddie rings out his nearly flat curls, boosting them up so that his signature look wouldn't be ruined. Dustin however, pays no mind to his wetness and instead stares intensely at the road leading to the school, not wanting to miss who would be picking them up, transfixed on the idea that it might be someone he'd been waiting to meet, or prove was real, for a long time.

Dustin has to fight back a happy jig when he spots an old looking pickup truck driving up the road towards the school, eyes stinging with the rain as he daren't even blink, desperate to catch sight of whoever was driving.

When the truck comes to a stop, he falters as he sees an old man get out, wearing a boiler suit uniform having clearly been a mechanic of sorts. He then notices the logo on the side of the truck, something or others repair shop. Eddie steps forward and has a brief conversation with him but Dustin pays no mind, throwing himself down onto one of the benches under the canopy, his chin resting on his hand as he pouts.

When the older man begins to tow away Eddie's van with one last wave and a pat to the back for the dungeon master, leaving Eddie and Dustin stranded, he shoots Eddie a confused glance. Eddie simply averts his eyes, shooting him a strange look before wrapping his arms around himself, the cold clearly getting to him.

Nearly as soon as the old truck pulls away with Eddie's van, a second truck pulls around the corner, pausing briefly window to window to talk to the man in the truck from their respective vehicles. This truck is all black and seemingly well loved, an old Chevy of sorts but Dustin's not great with car models. The trucks pull away from each other and the second truck comes to a stop outside the school, right by the canopy.

"Wait here Henderson," Eddie mumbles, eyes focused on the truck as he ducks out of the canopy and into the rain. The windows are slightly tinted so it's hard to see what's going off though Dustin desperately tries to sneak a peak at the owner of the truck.

"Haul your bike in the back," Eddie calls out, pulling open the passenger door, only to be met by resistance from the person inside the car. He huffs, closes the door and helps Dustin lift the bike onto the truck bed before he opens the passenger door again and slides across the bench, giving Dustin room to climb in.

He notices the woman driving immediately but doesn't recognise her at all. She's pretty, really pretty and is dressed in a leather jacket with a material hood that is hardly concealing her hair, dark jeans and fingerless gloves.

“Hi, you must be Dustin,” she smiles towards him and Dustin has to fight a blush that the pretty girl was talking directly to him. His momentary silent pause isn’t missed by his dungeon master, who shoots him a harsh look before letting out a low chuckle at the kids face.

“Hi,” he says shyly with a small wave, which only makes the woman smile wider.

“You’re up on Cornwallis right?” She asks, turning the key in the ignition to start up the truck. He gives a little nod, still not finding his voice entirely and she smiles back, turning to check her mirrors.

“How’d you know?” He asks only a few seconds later as the truck begins to pull away. He frowns when both Eddie and the mystery woman share a little mischievous smile, an inside joke of sorts.

“I’d like to tell you it was seeing you riding past on your bike when I’d visit Barb but,” the woman says, barely taking her eyes off the road as she navigates through the heavy rain.

“Skull rock’s just behind your house, dude,” Eddie says with a chuckle, finishing the sentence for him.

“Oh,” Dustin says, “oh.”

Both of the older constituents chuckle and Dustin takes a moment to watch them, seeing that they both had a natural ease with each other, like they’d known one another for a long time. He decides a little harmless digging wouldn’t hurt.

“You knew Barbara Holland?” He asks, watching her reaction carefully. She gives a sad little smile before shrugging gently, the faint rustle of leather ringing out in the near silent truck cabin.

“Our dads used to work together at the shop, before all the shit went down, nice kid,” she replied. Dustin watches as Eddie’s hand seems to move just slightly so that he’s touching her thigh, though it’s subtle, no doubt on account of Dustin’s presence.

“So you didn’t go to school with her?” He digs further. Something tells him that with the addition of the woman, who still remained largely a mystery to him would shield him from Eddie’s wrath if he caught on, like a buffer for the situation.

She snorts a little at the thought and shakes her head, flicking the wipers up a speed as the rain continues to pour, the windshield hardly clearing before it’s full again.

“Don’t know if I should be flattered or offended by that,” she says with a smile and a chuckle. Eddie’s mouth pulls to one side, like he was trying to hide his smirk. “I graduated in 84, spend two years at high with her but we didn’t interact much, she had her friends and well, I got stuck with this degenerate,” she laughs, gesturing to Eddie beside her. He shoves her, muttering his outrage at her statement but she merely laughs harder.

So they were at school together; before Dustin had ever reached high school. He wondered if Steve knew her? He didn’t recall him ever mentioning her, though he didn’t even know her name so that was one issue. He notices they are already on Cornwallis and he pouts again, wanting to find out more about the woman but by the time they’d pulled up to the mini intersection of Old Cherry, right by his house, it was too late.

“Thank you!” Dustin says very pleasantly as he prepares to make a run for it to grab his bike from the bed of the truck, frowning as he wonders how he’d lift it by himself.

“Eds, go help him,” the woman says, urging Eddie to help with the bike. Surprisingly, Eddie doesn’t hesitate much and does actually move to help

Dustin, who gives him an odd look.

“Thank you again, errr,” he pauses before hopping out of the cab, hesitating so that he’ll grab her name.

She’s about to reply but Eddie shoves him quickly out of the cab and reaches for the bike himself before placing it on the floor and handing it to Dustin.

“Night Henderson,” Eddie says, quickly messing with Dustin’s wet cap before he smirks and hops up into the truck again. The truck doesn’t pull away straight away and Dustin realises they are waiting for him to let himself in, checking he wouldn’t be left outside. That had to be the woman, Eddie would have been nothing but exhaust smoke and tyre screeches in the distance by now.

As soon as he opens up the garage, the truck begins pouring with loud music, something heavy and angry sounding and the truck begins to pull away with a single beep of the horn.

This brief but important encounter has only spurred Dustin on further, amping up his desperate need to find out exactly who she was and who she was in relation to Eddie. They seemed overly friendly but comfortable, could she be the one that had given him the necklace? She wished he was sat next to her so he could get a whiff of her hair; if it was strawberry scented he’d have been on to a winner. The next day, he cycled to the library, thankfully it much better weather than the previous day, and had scouted through pages and pages of source material trying to find old yearbooks from Hawkins High that might have illuminated who she was. Nothing.

He cycled to family video, scrambling for any information Steve could give but he was nearly as clueless as Dustin.

“Dude I’m telling you, I never noticed Munson until the satanic rumours started, never paid any attention to him,” Steve shrugged, already having told Dustin this at least three times but the kid was persistent.

“She had * colour hair and she was wearing a leather jacket, really pretty,” Dustin tried to explain her but Steve looks vacant.

“There were tonnes of girls with her hair colour and pretty,” he says defensively.

“I said really pretty,” Dustin says, adding the inflection. Steve huffs and takes a seat on the stool behind the counter, trying to rack his brain for anyone that might have been with Eddie. Until a faint memory appears at the very edge of his brain, making his face squint as he tries to recall it, having been so long ago.

“There was a chick, she was into rock music, saw her with Billy once,” Steve says, still squinting.

“Ughr,” Dustin says, his face distorting into disgust. Steve immediately sees Dustin’s reaction and clarifies.

“No, she told him to fuck off,” he then chuckles, “was pretty funny actually.” He’s quiet for another moment before it comes to him, the memory getting clearer in his mind, the vision of her coming into full view, he clicks his fingers in a eureka moment. “Hot girl! Munson pulled hot girl?” He sounds aghast, muttering it again under his breathe as he questions it over and over again.

“Hot girl? Come on Steve, names, I need names!” Dustin says, banging his hand on the counter.

“Alright alright! Sheesh,” Steve says, running his hand through his hair. “Umm, it was… something hot.”

Dustin gives him a thoroughly unimpressed glare but he doesn’t notice, too consumed with mentally searching for the name on the tip of his tongue. “Ashle…bec..ayleigh…Rox… y/n! It was y/n!” He clicks his finger again, smiling proudly that he’d been able to recall the information. “Y/n L/n!”

“Hey!” He suddenly shouts after Dustin who races out the door with no reply and no thank you. “I need new friends.”

Dustin wastes no time as he pedals harder and quicker, his destination set in his mind, with her name repeating in his head so that he didn’t forget even a single syllable. As he pulls up in front of his house, he doesn’t even slow before dismounting the bike, leaving it on the grass in front of his house without a single care. He runs in, completely ignoring his mums greeting and whizzes over to the phone book that Claudia Henderson always had sat on the side table. He leapt towards the book and quickly began searching for her name, endlessly trawling through the alphabetical listing until her name would show.

Nothing. It was like she never existed.

“Mom! How olds this phone book?” He shouts, his volume way above appropriate for inside. When she tells him that she only got it last month, he frowns and sinks down into the chair with a slump.

“Dammit!”

“Dusty-bun, language!”

He lays off the trail for a while, exhausted by his extreme efforts, pleased that he knew her name now but feeling deflated at not getting any further. He still watches Eddie for any signs and notices a few odd things here and there but nothing feels groundbreaking anymore.

Until the Byers’ pay a visit to Hawkins. Will is immediately accepted back into the group and whilst Mike is distracted with El and Lucas at basketball, Dustin spends most of his time with Will. Jonathan mopes around most days and even his spirited friend Argyle seems a little lacklustre and irritable at times.

“What’s up with them?” Dustin asks, nodding his head towards the two older boys who are sat on the couch moping, hugging pillows to themselves and barely watching whatever’s playing on tv.

“I thought it was just Nancy stuff you know, but they’re been like it for a few days,” Will says with a shrug, casting a look towards Jonathan and Argyle who look visibly irritated.

Later that evening, Argyle catches Dustin alone and delicately tries to swoon him with pleasantries and chitchat until he finally asks the question that seemed wholly inappropriate.

“My dude, where can we find the devils lettuce?”

“What?” Dustin asks bluntly, completely lost.

“You know,” Argyle says, mimicking smoking a blunt, “some green, some kush, Chiba Chiba, ‘pass the kutchie pon’left hand side’.”

“Weed? You want weed?” He asks bluntly, not caring for the theatrics one bit.

“Well yeah my dude, if you have to be so crude about it,” he says jokingly. Dustin rolls his eyes and walks over to the telephone on the side, reaching for the phone book and flipping it straight to ‘M’ for Munson. Eddie’s side business was the worst kept secret in Hawkins, especially to his friends even though he kept discreet about it for good reason.

Dustin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he came across the name beside Eddie’s seeing it listed directly beneath his. Y/n Munson.

“My dude! I’m the delivery guy, don’t sweat it!” Argyle shouts with a laugh as Dustin suddenly takes off, offering no explanation as he grabs his bike and pedals away, straight towards Forest Hills.

He doesn’t stop, not even to catch his breath as he nears the entrance to the trailer park, flicking his eyes around for Eddie’s van. He’d been here once or twice, mostly to try and visit Max and had spotted Eddie in the opposite plot, assuming that he lived there and had visited once when Eddie needed something for D&D that Dustin had mistakenly taken. He pushes on, catching sight of Eddie’s beat up van and the black truck parked beside a trailer and doesn’t stop until he’s immediately outside. Dismounting his bike, he gasps for air and pulls out his inhaled from his jacket pocket, wheezing as he puffs on it a few times to catch his breath.

He walks up the steps to the trailer door and knocks over and over loudly, insisting that someone come to the door. The door opens to reveal Eddie in a Metallica shirt and some lounge pants, something Dustin would never believe he would wear, assuming he wore his jeans all the time.

“Henderson?” Eddie looks around behind Dustin and pulls him inside, “the hell are you doing here?”

The place looked very, very different from when he’d been here last, the rooms clean and not fusty anymore. The walls were no longer lined with display mugs and trinkets but rather nice homely decorations that were a little off centre, framed band posters and photos of people in nice frames.

“Dustin?” He hears the all too familiar woman say as she walks through into the kitchen. She’s also wearing a band T-shirt, Judas Priest he thinks he can make out, with some plaid pyjama shorts and a cardigan. She reaches up to smooth her hair down, not having expected anyone to turn up and a glimmer of something on her left hand makes Dustin freeze, before he remembers exactly why he came here.

“You’re married?!” He asks, turning to Eddie, shocked and outraged that he’d managed to keep it a secret. The woman, who Dustin now knew to be Y/n Munson, bursts out laughing as she throws herself down onto the couch, immediately covering her legs with a soft blanket.

“You’re still playing that game?” She asks, turning to look at Eddie, who looks like he’s about to spontaneously combusts.

“Fucking Christ Henderson, you came all the way here for that?” He asks, ignoring his wife’s laughter. Dustin simply shrugs, appearing resolute on the outside but internally he’s beginning to see how much he’s overreacted.

“You ashamed of me, Munson?” His wife teases, turning her head to the side, goading him with a smile. He finally turns to her and snorts, also amused by her words.

“Yeah like getting the hottest girl in Hawkins is something I’m ashamed of.” He sends her a wicked smile and she blushes just slightly, both of them smiling at each other as their eyes meet.

“So what am I missing?” Dustin says, not reading the room. Eddie breaks his gaze with his wife to glare at Dustin for interrupting the moment, the kid clearly had a lot to learn about women.

“Just tell him,” y/n says encouragingly, reaching for the cup of tea in front of her as she watches on with rapt interest, and slight amusement.

Eddie huffs and sighs, his shoulders dropping a little as he prepares his explanation, though why he was explaining things was a little lost on him.

“We got married in October,” he pauses as Dustin immediately looks like he’s going to blow a fuse and with one harsh glare, he closes his mouth, allowing Eddie to continue. “Been together for a few years but Wayne moved out last summer so my girl moved in and then we got hitched just after,” he explains, taking a seat on the little chair, offering the other to Dustin who declines. “I didn’t tell anyone because being a married man, still in school and DM’ing a kids D&D club isn’t exactly ‘cool’,” he says, sounding honest and a little deflated.

“To be clear, you weren’t that ‘cool’ before,” his wife snarks, thoroughly enjoying the show. He shoots her a look and she simply sinks at him, seeing the argumentative look diffuse immediately from his face as he smiles at her, seeing her beaming back at him, if not a little sarcastically.

The pieces slowly meld together in Dustin’s mind, illuminating the big picture, each little thing he’d noticed now becoming clear.

“So the ring,” he says, gesturing towards the chain around Eddie’s neck. “It’s not a Lord of the rings thing?”

Y/n’s loud burst of laughter breaks the last lingering slither of tension in the room and once again Eddie sends her a warning glance though she ignores it completely.

“Yes that very powerful wedding ring forged in the fires of Orodruin by the dark Lord himself, Edward Sauron Munson. Does it enhance your Dungeon Master powers specifically or is it like an all around enchancement? Because as far as I can tell there’s been no improvement to your cooking skills,” she says with a chuckle.

“Sweetheart you are in for it,” he says threateningly, though his eyes still shine with amusement. She lifts her eyebrows once as if goading him, hopeful that his words will take on a very different meaning later.

“Why not just wear it on your hand?” Dustin asks, missing the point of it all being hidden.

“Because, Henderson,” Eddie says, leaning forward to push Dustin back to fall into the seat opposite him. “My girl got me this ring,” he says flashing him the skull ring that sat on his left ring finger. “18th birthday. Couldn’t get married using that so I got a normal band but this means more to us,” he says, gesturing back to the ring. “Plus.”

He then slips off the ring and extends his hand under Dustin’s frowning gaze until he spots what Eddie is trying to show him. Her initials, tattooed on his ring finger, concealed by the skull ring he always wore.

“Soon as I graduate, it won’t be a secret anymore, hell, I’ll probably shout it from the rooftops,” Eddie says with a beaming smile, “but for now, it’s just between us three okay?”

“Okay.”

It’s graduation day and Eddie proudly walks the stage in his cap and gown to accept his diploma before giving the finger to Principle Higgins on the way. His friends sit in the auditorium and cheer him in but no one cheers louder than ‘hot girl’ who stands and cheers, clapping loudly for her husband who had finally graduated.

“Dude,” Gareth says, pointing towards the side of the stage after everyone had walked and the procession was over. They all turn to see Eddie place the cap onto the woman’s head before pulling her in for a searing and very public kiss.

“Who’s that?”

“Hot girl?”

“What?!”

Dustin smiles, watching the pair only briefly before the scene suddenly becomes decidedly less PG, turning to his group of friends that all look on in complete amazement. He smirks, ready to unleash the secret he’d been hiding for months, keeping his tone casual as if it were completely obvious.

“Oh, you guys don’t know Eddie’s wife?”

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #eddie munson comfort fic #eddie munson masterlist #eddie Munson x reader #eddie Munson x you #stranger things #eddie Munson

311 notes · View notes

galedekarios · 25 days

Note

Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.

You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!

i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.

i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:

they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.

they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.

they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.

the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.

for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.

add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:

[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!

[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.

[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.

[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.

i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)

...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.

additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.

as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.

#ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks #text: personal #meta: mybg3 #bloodweave critical

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thegirlwhowrites642 · 20 days

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do you think ginny’s loneliness is what pushed her to trust tom so easily ?

I don't think so, it is like that canonically.

"The diary," said Riddle. `My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how" -Riddle's eyes glinted "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her. . ."

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom…. I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in…. It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket. . .

-- Chapter 17 of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Loneliness is a defining part of Ginny's story.

What we know about Ginny's childhood is a perfect backstory for the diary bussiness.

Ginny grows up surrounded by brothers who exclude her because she is the youngest and a girl. To add to this, the Weasleys grew up fundamentally without any real relationships with other kids outside of the family (neither Ron nor Ginny have friends when they arrive at Hogwarts despite being purebloods in the main magic school in the British wizarding world, they never mention anyone else, no one is around in the summers at the Burrow, and they also don't seem to have ever significantly interacted with muggles). What this means is that Ginny doesn't have any alternative friends to compensate for the isolation. It's a lot worse than a random little sister whose older brothers don't want around. She doesn't have any other social settings but her home to develop those bonds.

So when Ginny arrives at Hogwarts her brothers keep up the whole excluding her thing, but this time around Ginny is in a completely new environment and not the comfort of her home.

A very relevant trait of Ginny's personality to take into consideration is her romanticism. She had dreamed for years of going to Hogwarts just like her brothers and probably had built up that experience a lot in her mind due to her romantic inclinations. So the fall is even stronger when she arrives in this new overwhelming environment. She finds herself having to deal for the first time in such a direct way with the judgment of her economic condition (middle school kids are brutal little shits). And she has to once again observe the lack of support from her brothers. It's realistic to assume this might be the first time Ginny truly processes her brothers' tendency to not want her around, she is only eleven after all, and not being in a family setting would highlight their behaviour.

All of this goes to create a reasonably very strong sense of isolation.

Then of course there's also Harry. The fun outgoing Ginny we meet in the later books is not someone Ginny learned to be, but someone Ginny had to learn how to come back to. That's Ginny's natural personality, as we know from Ron but even from what we see of her in the first book. Consequently, we also know that her being a bit of a mess in front of Harry is an atypical reaction, one that makes her feel ashamed of herself in front of a boy she likes, a figure she grew up admiring through stories (again, I can't stress enough how important it is to remember Ginny's romantic heart). So the more she feels ashamed, the more she acts like an idiot, and the more she acts like an idiot the more she feels ashamed. This of course does absolutely nothing to increase her self-esteem, quite the opposite really. And this as her initial condition when she arrives at Hogwarts is not exactly ideal.

Of course, for such a lonely little girl Tom's diary is a perfect island to refuge herself in.

But it's also a bit of dog-that-bites-its-tail kind of situation. Tom takes all the insecurities of an eleven-year-old girl and amplifies them to isolate her even more and enslave her.

A Ginny without the diary would have grown out of that situation organically and quite fast. She is funny, clever, and very good-looking. She just needed a moment to open herself up to this new world and let people get to know her. Instead, because of what happens it takes her a year and a half after the Chamber to get to that point, and due to very unfortunate timing, she will still have to maintain a degree of isolation from her classmates because only six months later Voldemort will come back, therefore the Order too and all the secrets that come with it.

Ginny is someone whose need for others was used to make her the victim of insane horrors and spent the rest of the series learning to not need anyone, turning that independence into her strength (the contrast between Ginny being on the ground of the Chamber and Ginny taking care of the girl on the ground during the Battle says it all).

It's not really surprising that Ginny spends two books (the fourth and fifth) actively avoiding becoming a constant in Harry's everyday life even if she has hundreds of opportunities to do so (in the third she couldn't speak in front of him). As we learned in CoS, Harry is very dangerous, he makes her vulnerabilities shine like no one else. However, contrary to the fourth book, in the fifth, as much as Ginny may try to stay away from Harry, she can't. He looks like a lost puppy for most of the year and what is she supposed to do, honestly? Not help him? I don't think she would be physically able to. After all, the fact that she has her confidence back has already taken away the stronger barrier there was between Ginny and Harry (she has also convinced herself she is totally over him).

By the end of the sixth book, Ginny has already made a lot of progress in making her peace with the fact that Harry brings up her vulnerabilities, as shown in probably the most masochist dialogue ever written: Ginny telling Harry she has never given up on him and basically implying she never will while he breaks up with her.

That said, once again, Ginny's progress gets mutilated by good old Tom and his bloody war.

Don't get me wrong, by the end of the series Ginny has completed her circular main arc that follows the same structure of the story just like Harry's. She has grown into who she was always supposed to be, she knows who she is and what she wants.

But after the books, starts Harry and Ginny's story.

And in between Ginny wanting to rely on Harry and actually fully doing it, there's some angst and a future husband who can read her like a book and has decided her lone wolf days have come to an end.

Sorry Weasley, now you have someone you can rely on for the rest of your days. I know, it must suck.

But again, as we've already seen, if there's a person who can make Ginny go back to relying on someone else that's our homeboy Harry, resident Lover Boy.

All of this is to say that not only loneliness was absolutely a central element of what happened with the diary but it's an essential piece of Ginny's entire story.

#maybe I should finish writing the summer after the war #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley

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