#HARRY BLACK CROW... WHO JUST WANTS HIS WHITE CROW TO LOVE HIM BACK...

[blackcathjp]

why is this drarry in azoth

[kazscrows]

Six of Crows Reread 🪶

Chapter 28: Inej

Kaz was watching her intently, his bitter coffee eyes glittering in the light from the dome.

The classic Kanej stare

You can’t tell me he’s not worried about her-

I’m sorry but the thought of Kaz and Matthias even trying to blend in with the Menagerie is hilarious

But of course Kaz has a different plan

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Kaz. “Helvar’s been holding out on us.”

“Have you?” asked Inej.

“It’s not—” Matthias dragged a hand over his cropped hair. “How do you know these things, demjin?” he growled at Kaz.

Because he’s ✨Kaz✨

I love when Matthias calls him demjin

And of course Kaz’s plan involves going back on just about everything of his original plan

The man has plans A-Z in his head, but none of them are simple

Jesper held up a hand. “I’m sorry, isn’t Black Protocol the thing we want to avoid at all costs?”

 I can just hear Kit saying this really well for some reason

Probably because in season 1 he says something vaguely similar like “You want us to get on that skiff??? The one full of people who, oh right, want to kill us—“

Kaz gazed out at the White Island, head tilted, eyes slightly unfocused.

“Scheming face,” Inej murmured.

Jesper nodded.

“Definitely.”

I am once again here for Jesper and Inej’s friendship and Kaz’s scheming face

Inej thinks about how she’s going to miss his face because she’s decided on hunting slavers-

“I’m all for locking the Fjerdans in their own ‘fortress’,” said Jesper. “Truly. But how do we get out? Once we trigger Black Protocol, you guys will be trapped on that island, and we’ll be trapped in the outer circle. We have no weapons and no demo materials.”

Kaz’s grin was sharp as a razor. “Thank goodness we’re proper thieves. We’re going to do a little shopping – “

That grin is going to kill me someday—

Inej upon receiving the peacock feather tattoo again:

Inej took a deep breath. “It’s warpaint,” she said, both to Nina and herself. “It’s my mark to take.”

The knowledge that they might never see each other again, that some of them – maybe all of them – might not survive this night hung heavy in the air. A gambler, a convict, a wayward son, a lost Grisha, a Suli girl who had become a killer, a boy from the Barrel who had become something worse.

Classic classic line

And hey- they do all make it through book one–

Oh Jesper just said the open casket line—

I never know how I feel about the show using quotes early.. it’s fun, but also kind of disappointing?

Like Jesper can’t say that again if we ever get the ice court adapted…

But on the other hand it was quite fitting where they placed it in season one

The StrUGgLe—

Anyways….

Get ready for a lot of Kanej

You can just assume I’m the equivalent of a keyboard slam for the next several quotes

“I have something for you,” she said as she pulled his leather gloves from the sleeve of her prison tunic.

He stared at them. “How—”

“I got them from the discarded clothes. Before I made the climb.”

“Six storeys in the dark.”

She nodded. She wasn’t going to wait for thanks. Not for the climb, or the gloves, or for anything ever again.

He pulled the gloves on slowly, and she watched his pale, vulnerable hands disappear beneath the leather. They were trickster hands –

“When we get back to Ketterdam, I’m taking my share, and I’m leaving the Dregs.”

He looked away. “You should. You were always too good for the Barrel.”

It was time to go. “Saints’ speed, Kaz.”

Kaz snagged her wrist. “Inej.” His gloved thumb moved over her pulse, traced the top of the feather tattoo. “If we don’t make it out, I want you to know …”

Gaahh say something Kaz!!!

The heart is an arrow

She reached up and touched his cheek. She thought he might flinch again, even knock her hand away. In nearly two years of battling side by side with Kaz, of late-night scheming, impossible heists, clandestine errands, and harried meals of fried potatoes and hutspot gobbled down as they rushed from one place to another, this was the first time she had touched him skin to skin, without the barrier of gloves or coat or shirtsleeve. She let her hand cup his cheek. His skin was cool and damp from the rain. He stayed still, but she saw a tremor pass through him, as if he were waging a war with himself.

“If we don’t survive this night, I will die unafraid, Kaz. Can you say the same?”

His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will for him to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

You’re right Inej. It’s not enough

But give him time

I think you’ll find him ready one day

Go sail the world and take on the slavers but maybe come back and check on him every now and then

He’s changing too

You also just short circuited his brain

She had her aim now, her heart had direction, and though it hurt to know that path led away from him, she could endure it.

But is it really aimed away?

Truly?

Maybe it goes straight through him—

Connecting you together…

—————————————————————

“Inej looked down at the wolves chasing each other around the rotunda floor. “I’m not sure why I began this,” she admitted. “But I know why I have to finish. I know why fate brought me here, why it placed me in the path of this prize.”

She was being vague, but she wasn’t yet ready to speak the dream that had ignited in her heart – a crew of her own, a ship under her command, a crusade. It felt like something that was meant to be kept secret, a new seed that might grow to something extraordinary if it wasn’t forced to bloom too soon. She didn’t even know how to sail.

Hm… what if the diamond necklace Heleen wears will be replaced by the necklace Alina gave Kaz in the show?

Poor Nina. No one can move as gracefully at the Wraith

A lot of this chapter is just Nina tumbling from air vents

Inej tying up the other Suli girl-

Oh gosh…

Nina smoothed her hands over the ridiculous costume. “I’m about to be very popular.”

“I wonder what Matthias would have to say about that outfit.”

“He wouldn’t approve.”

“He doesn’t approve of anything about you. But when you laugh, he perks up like a tulip in fresh water.”

Nina snorted. “Matthias the tulip.”

“The big, brooding, yellow tulip.”

Bless Nina for making this moment so ridiculous Inej can’t dwell on it for too long

But then of course they get separated

First | Previous | Next

[blouisparadise]

We frequently get asked what our members favorite fics are, so for today’s rec list, we asked each member of BLP to choose FIVE favorite fics for this list - no repeats allowed. Please keep in mind that this is not a complete list of our favorites - there are so many amazing BL fics out there that we all have a lot more than this! Still, we hope you enjoy. Happy reading!

1) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words

“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.

The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.

Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it. Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.

2) Quietly Our Hearts Beat | Explicit | 7539 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.

3) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis’s staring up at him, head tilted slightly back, and his blue eyes are glassy, locked with Harry’s in an unblinking and gentle gaze. He looks ready to do whatever Harry says, to please him whatever way.

4) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

5) No Good Unless It’s Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

6) A Springtime’s Wilt, An Autumn’s Bloom | Explicit | 20593 words

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

7) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words

The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.

11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

12) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words

An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.

13) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.

“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”

Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

14) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

15) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words

The one where Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.

16) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words | Sequel

The accidental bonding A/B/O fic.

17) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

18) Stuck On You | Explicit | 33983 words

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

19) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

20) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Alternatively titled: the beginning.

21) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

24) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40580 words

Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

25) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

26) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

27) Love’s Truest Language | Explicit | 48195 words

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.

“Where's your order forms, then?”

“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

28) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words

The one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

29) Latibule | Mature | 54322 words

A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.

30) Warming Up To You | Explicit | 56227 words

Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.

31) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.

32) Curly Bun Man | Not Rated | 68597 words

I just paid for these Doritos but they're stuck in the vending machine and I know you've been waiting but I am not going to let you buy something until you help me. AU.

33) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words | Sequel

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

34) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80582 words

Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.

35) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

36) Where You Lay | Explicit | 86038 words

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles.  Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

37) And Down The Long And Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

38) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

39) The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 113921 words

Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.

40) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126057 words | Sequel (WIP)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 73: Letters

After the war, Draco received quite a bit of mail, most of it not very nice. So he'd developed a potion that would help him to know what to expect when opening the letters. One drop on the outside of the envelope and it would change colors to reflect the emotions of the person who'd written it.

It served him well until one afternoon when the post arrived and he dripped the potion onto a standard white envelope, watching the bead of liquid go from clear to pink. He waited, tapping his finger impatiently, sure that it was going to continue to red (because red was anger, hurt, and frustration and he got quite a few of those still).

But the dot stayed the same pretty pink.

Frowning, he tried again, but the second drop stayed equally pink. He pulled the next letter over and dripped a bit of the potion onto it, it turned green. That was normal, just someone trying to get on with their own business; Draco was certain it was an order for a potion.

The next was green with hints of blue swirling about. Nothing out of the ordinary in that, just someone who was feeling melancholy while they wrote their letter.

All of the other mail was perfectly ordinary; green with hints of orange (desperation), another plain green, one red that he threw straight in the trash, and the last black with a streak of green. He threw that one away as well, no sense in getting mixed up in anything dark.

He tried the first letter once more. Pink.

Draco had never gotten a letter that was written out of love before. Curiosity sufficiently peaked, he opened the letter.

(Read more below the cut)

Dear Draco, I know that you've done quite a bit of work with Teddy, helping to make sure that the full moons are easily manageable for him even though he not transforming yet. Thanks for that it means a lot to me. It got me thinking, though, about how many children don't have that and have to really struggle with mood instability around the full moon. So I wanted ask if you would help me. I know the potion that you give to Teddy isn't ministry approved, I know that you can't get it past the ministry's bloody red tape. But I think that I can. Would you ever consider letting me try? There are so many people your potion could help. I'm not an expert by any means but by the way Andromeda talks about it, it seems like it could even help people like Bill Weasley who was bitten but not turned. I'll give you anything you want for the chance to try and convince the ministry. Could I buy you dinner and talk it through? Just send me the time and place and I'll meet you there. Yours Best, Harry Potter

Draco sat down in his chair and thought it through, but really there wasn't even a decision to make. He'd be more than glad to let Potter get the potion approved. He picked up his quill and wrote on the bottom:

Potter, Yes, I'll meet you for dinner. Three Broomsticks, 7pm.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he tied the letter to Hermes' leg, and sent him off.

He tried to put the pink dot out of his mind. Obviously, it was because Potter was thinking about Teddy as he wrote the letter.

-------

Several months later, the bell over the door to Draco's shop tingled a heartbeat before Harry burst through the door, "Draco!" he shouted, skidding to a halt when he saw Draco crouched next to a shelf restocking potions. "Draco!" he crowed again.

"What?" Draco asked, heart pounding in his chest, he barely dared to hope that this was finally happening.

"It's approved!"

"Are you sure?" Draco asked uncertainly because he was quite sure that this was never meant to happen. None of his work was ever supposed to be accepted.

Harry nodded, "Wait, hold on," he said, patting his pockets before pulling out a letter. "Here," he offered, holding it out to Draco.

With a trembling hand he took it and read the letter, then he read it again, covering his mouth with his hand. After a moment, he look up, "You-" he started but Harry interrupted him.

"I know that my name is on it but we'll work on getting it off as soon as possible-"

"I don't care about that," Draco said, shaking his head. "Harry, this," he shook his head at a loss for words, "I don't know what to say."

"Congratulations," he said. "You more than deserve this. You're going to help so many people."

"Thank you," he finally managed.

He nodded at him shoving his hands into his pockets, "You're brilliant, of course you deserve the recognition."

"No, I meant thank you for helping me get it through. I couldn't have done this without you."

Harry waved him off, "That's because the people who work at the ministry have their heads up their asses." He looked around, "You should hire someone to help you. You're going to have a lot more orders."

"Who would want to work for me?" he asked, trying not to allow the bitterness to creep in and steal his joy.

Scuffing the toe of his trainer across the floor, Harry gave a little shrug and said, "I would." He glanced up at Draco before looking away again, "Obviously I'm not great at Potions, but I could help with some things and I could help you with like stocking the shelves and processing orders."

Draco stared at him, he couldn't possibly be saying what he sounded like he was saying.

"Just," Harry shrugged, "think about it," he said as he turned and started heading toward the door.

"Why do your letters turn pink?" Draco blurted before he could stop himself.

Harry turned back to look at him, brow furrowed, "Sorry?"

"Just-" he broke off, dropping the letter as he took four strides across the room and pressed his lips to Harry's lips.

Harry froze and Draco drew back, "Sorry-" he started, but the other man's hands grabbed onto him and pulled him back in as his lips covered Draco's and he kissed him back.

Draco melted into Harry, his body molding itself to the hard planes of the other man's body as Harry's hands stroked gently over his sides and back.

When Harry drew back he murmured, "What did you ask me?"

He couldn't help the grin that tipped up the corners of his mouth, "Never mind. I think I already have my answer."

--------------

Day 72: Mirrors | Day 74: Thunderstorm

thank you for the prompt! @kitkatzoe101 I hope you enjoy it!

[manchesterau]

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point. 

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore). 

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-' 

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll). 

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑 

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal). 

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end) 

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared. 

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

[peakywitch]

Little Hands - Michael Gray

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

word count: 2k

warnings: none (i think this one has angst?)

gif: @oberelias

It had been a year since Henry had told Y/N that he loved her.

It had been a year since they had kissed for the first time.

But a week had passed since his disappearance.

"He left." said Rosemary, her mother “And I don't know if he will come back, Y/N. I'm sorry, but I only know he's in Birmingham…” she sobbed “In a town called Small Heath.”

Y/N knew Henry would be back.

So every night during the rainy month of November she waited for him. In the afternoons she was with Rosemary, trying to calm the sadness of his mother and his little brother. At night she would stay up late, looking out the window of her room with cup of tea in her hand, waiting to see her boyfriend return from another town. To which, he had left without giving explanations. He disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving a simple note:

“I went to Small Heath. -Henry"

No goodbye, no explanation.

In the morning, Y/N woke up before the rooster from the neighboring farm. And by the time the rooster crowed, the tea was already poured into two cups. One for her, one for him.

 Meanwhile, Y/N did not lose hope. Henry wasn't like that, he was coming back. She was sure.

When the thirty days of her departure were marked on the calendar, Y/N had her birthday. She turned 17 on a beautiful sunny afternoon, it was the only day in November without rain or clouds. Her family, the Johnsons, and some of her friends filled her with happiness when they gave her a new dress. They had all collaborated. Y/N was the soul of the town, always giving smiles and taking care of flowers. So her relatives wanted to give her back a bit of that happiness.

The day was beautiful, laughter, cake, some flowers and the dress.

But when the day was done and her parents fell asleep, Y/N waited by the fire, with a slice of the cake for Henry. She had saved the center, the sweetest piece. Wrapped in a blanket, the fire burned in her eyes, as tears fell and she realized the truth: Henry would not return again. He was not there for her birthday, he would not return again.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that the fire was dying; giving her to understand that she had to go to bed. With rage in her soul, she threw the slice of cake into the fire.

“Burn in fucking hell, Henry Johnson. Burn for breaking my heart.”

When the calendar marked ‪January 16‬, Y/N opened her eyes, feeling worse than ever.

After a sleepless night from throwing up, her body was taking its toll.

"Honey?" her dad asked, knocking on her door "It's late, are you okay?" He was still behind the door.

"No." His daughter whispered, it hurted her to breathe.

"Eve!" the alarmed cry of her father was heard, calling for her mother "You have to come, Y/N is feeling bad!"

There was agitated little chatter, and then her mom peeked through the slot left by the open door.

"Sun? Are you okay, love?" Her mom asked curious and concerned.

"No..." Y/N cried.

Her parents entered the room, after asking permission. Her mother sat next to her, touching her forehead, and her father stood in the doorway, nervous.

“You don't have a fever, darling. What do you feel? What’s hurting? "

Y/N recounted the horrible night she had just had, her pains and asked if she was dying, worried.

"Will, would you leave us alone, please?" asked her mother.

He left the room, leaving his daughter and his wife together.

"Y/N, did you sleep with Henry?" her mother asked, concerned.

"No!" she blurted out nervously.

Yes. But she was afraid of punishment.

“Y/N, you don't have to be afraid. It is something natural and normal, as long as you wanted and he did not forced you, your father and I will be fine. "

Y/N sighed.

"Yes."

"When was the first time?" her mother was a teacher, but sometimes, if she tried hard, she could guess things just by looking at a person. She was trying now.

"I don't know..." she thought "A year or so ago."

"And when was the last time?" she asked.

“A few months ago, Mom. Before…” she couldn't finish the sentence. First it was out of sadness, but she realized it was out of fear.

His mother closed her eyes and exhaled.

Shit.

It was ‪January the 18‬, and it was ten in the morning.

Y/N was standing in front of the Small Heath Police Station.

She was showing off her new dress, as she hadn't had a chance to leave her small town.

She took a deep breath and coughed a little as she exhaled. The smoke was disgustingly heavy. She entered the station and found only one man, asleep. Well, apparently it was a quiet city if a policeman was sleeping.

What I do? Do I wake him up? Do I let him sleep?

Among so many doubts, a robust man with a gray mustache appeared.

"Are you lost, miss?" the lord spoke, presenting a strong Irish accent.

"Oh, excuse me, I..." Y/N whispered, doubtful and nervous.

"Let me introduce myself, I'm Inspector Campbell…and you are?" smiled the man.

"My name is Y/N, Inspector." She smiled.

"Well, Miss Y/N, what is a young lady like you doing at the police station in such a dark area?"

"Do you know Henry Johnson?" she blurted out, no introduction.

"Henry Johnson..."

"Yeah… um… He has dark blue eyes, a freckled nose, brown hair…" she tried to describe Henry.

"Does he have a mole on his forehead?" asked the inspector.

"Yes!" Y/N smiled excitedly. Then sadness washed over her: she had slowly forgotten how to describe Henry.

The inspector laughed.

"Don't you mean Michael Gray?" he asked.

"Pardon?" she asked, oblivious to the name.

"Watery Lane, house number 65." He said, while he wrote the address on a small piece of paper.

After a thank you and a goodbye, she heard the man scream:

"Stay away from the Shelbys, princess!"

 Y/N walked aimlessly for a few minutes, passing houses, horses, and drunken men in the street. Watery Lane seemed never to appear. And she was getting tired.

It was official, after wandering for ten minutes, she was lost. Her feet ached and she felt like she would never find Henry. Y/N looked around, she was in the middle of the street trying to get help. At the end of the street, there was a bar: "The Garrison" read the sign. Being eleven in the morning, how many people would be inside? Sure was closed. But she would loose nothing if she tried. Determined, she walked over to that dark bar and knocked on the door. She waited a few moments, since she did not want to annoy by entering as if it were her home. A tall man opened the door for her.

“Did you knock on the bar door, love?" asked the man, with curiosity and amusement in his voice. Y/N looked him quickly up and down, it was the bartender.

"Yes, I didn't mean to disturb, sir..." Y/N smiled, making the bartender laugh.

"Do not worry, love. Need help? I'm sure you're lost "

"Am I so obvious?" she asked embarrassed, the bartender laughed “Actually, I do need help. Where is...” she looked at the paper the Inspector gave her "Watery Lane? "

“You're on Watery Lane, miss. What number do you have written there? "

"Sixty..." she looked at the paper to corroborate "sixty five"

"Oh." The man became uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. His voice cleared "It's at the end of the block, on the right side, has the number on the door."

"Thank you, Sir." She smiled.

“Harry, miss. Harry." Smiled.

They said goodbye, and Y/N went to Henry's house. In a minute, she reached the black door, which featured two clean numbers. The knot in Y/N's stomach intensified, she was afraid. Because she knew the two results of this visit: either Henry stayed with her, or he left her alone. Again.

Determined but scared, she knocked on the door. Stepped back and waited a few seconds.

“Well, well, well..." smiled a boy "Did all my wishes come true?" the stranger's flirtation made her uncomfortable.

"Excuse me, is Henry Johnson here?" she asked, exasperated and almost hopeless.

"Oi, Michael, a damsel in distress is waiting for you." the boy yelled, without taking his eyes off the girl.

There was that name again. Michael. Y/N had too many questions.

"John, fuck off. I don't have any..."Henry appeared, pulling “John” out of his place at the door "Y/N...”

Henry paled, and Y/N looked closely at what he was wearing.

He had a perfectly pressed white shirt, a blue tie and a vest that matched his pants.

Henry closed the door behind him, leaving the house.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Was it disdain and disgust, what Y/N perceived in that question? No, impossible. It was Henry.

"Why did you left?" she answered with a question.

"I asked you first."

"Has your question been in your head for months?" Y/N asked angrily.

"No but..."

“You left us. All of us." Y/N spat with pain "Your mother cried every day, your brother...Henry, your brother...!"

"My name is not Henry, Y/N!" he yelled out of the blue.

“My name is not Henry, she is not my mother and he is not my brother. My name is Michael Gray, my mother's name is Polly and I have a sister who died in Australia. I...”he tried to continue to expand angrily, but Y/N cut him off.

“You, fucking idiot, you had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who waited for you every night with your favorite tea, waited for you every morning with fresh toasts and all afternoon hugging your crying mother. I waited for you until my birthday. I had saved you cake, your favorite part. I went to bed at three in the morning and got up at five everyday, so I could be attentive in case you arrived. But you never came, Henry."

"I am Michael!" he screamed, his voice raised with every letter he said.

"I'm talking to who my boyfriend was!" Y/N yelled in response “I don't know who the fuck is Michael Gray. But I know that Henry Johnson left me alone, and that he got pregnant. So I'm talking to Henry Johnson, not Michael Gray."

Michael clenched his jaw, and Y/N wiped away his tears with his shaking hand.

"What?" Michael asked.

"Four months. I thought you should know, Henry...Michael...whoever the fuck you are."

Adrenaline rushed through Michael's body, everything was shaking. Y/N saw in her boyfriend's eyes how he didn't know what to say or what to do.

"Get rid of him." he said.

"What?" Y/N asked, flustered.

“I won't be with you, get rid of him. It would be easier."

Nausea invaded the girl's body, making her dizzy.

“Everything is so easy for you. If you don't want something, you run away, right?" she laughed sourly, through tears of hatred.

They were both silent.

"Why did you left without saying goodbye? Or a letter...Michael.” the name escaped the girl's lips nervously.

"I didn't want to hurt you..."

Y/N laughed. While Michael was being honest, she couldn't help but get even angrier.

“So you decided to disappear. Disappear from the life of a seven-year-old who sleeps in one of your sweaters so he can stop crying to you. Disappear from the lives of your adoptive parents, regardless of all the effort they put into raising you. Disappear from my life, the person who loves you. Like nothing in the world."

"Y/N..." Michael began.

"No, you don't get to say anything. Because there is nothing to say anymore. Except I'm sorry, but you're not sorry. Everything is perfect now for you. Look at you." She smiled wistfully “You have the perfect outfit that you always wanted, so I imagine you have a job. And a good one, as you always dreamed of. "

"But you..." he began.

“But I” Y/N interrupted again “But I'm going to have a child of yours. As we always dream." Y/N laughed “I dreamed, actually. Because you had other dreams."

And just like that, she began to walk away.

"No, Y/N, wait..." Michael yelled, starting to run towards her.

“I already waited too long for you. I won’t wait for you anymore, never again.” she sentenced, without looking at him as she continued walking.

Michael's chest sagged as he watched her walk away. He entered his house again, with a heavy heart.

"Michael" said Tommy, Michael looked at him heavily "A word?"

Both men locked themselves in the major's office, Tommy stood still and Michael sat in one of the chairs.

“Arthur had a girlfriend, before he went to war. The day before...” said Tommy, lighting a cigarette" The day before our departure, they fought. Shit, it was hell for him. They were so, so angry about something that I can no longer remember, that he went to France without saying goodbye. You know how much of an arsehole he can be." Tommy was going through a drawer, took out a sepia photo.

"She died within two weeks of smallpox, he never forgave himself." Tommy handed him the photo as he sat down in his chair across from Michael.

“We kill men, bad men. Hell, we even torture some. But we never break women's hearts, Michael. Because it is dying in life. So bloody go, and fix all the shit you've done." Tommy said, with an angry tone in his voice, but still not yelling.

"She won't even want to think of me, she'll kill me with her little hands..." Michael smiled sadly, remembering how Y/N's hands looked like baby hands compared to his.

“If she kills you, she will bring you back. Or have you not heard how she waited for you? Go, bloody idiot. Go and don't come back until you come back with her smiling and on your arm.”

PART TWO

[hpanimagusfest]

Animagus Masterlist - Creators Revealed

We would like to thank everybody who has made this fest such a success, whether as a prompter, creator, or reader! We hope the featured fics, art, and podfics have brought you happiness in these crazy times we’re living in. Now, without further ado, may we proudly present the HP Animagus Fest 2021 Masterlist.

ART

Title: The Whirling Ways of Stars That Pass Artist: Bluebutter @bluebutter-art Rating: Gen Art Medium: Digital Art Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #30 Summary:

Being a polar bear Animagi makes Harry crave holidays and time in icy places like Iceland and the North Pole, which is why Harry and Draco decide to spend their first holiday together to see the beautiful Northern Lights. There's just one tiny problem: Draco hates the cold.

That's okay though. He can get warm cuddling in his lover's soft fur.

See on AO3

PODFICS

Title: [Podfic] Harry's Wolves by dracogotgame Podficcer: Thunder_of_Dragons @thunder-of-dragons Original Author: dracogotgame Rating: Gen Length: 12 minutes Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: 

Harry wakes up to an empty bed and wolves in the garden.

Listen on AO3

Title: [Podfic] Of mammals, birds and reptiles by Jessa_yeah Podficcer: Thunder_of_Dragons @thunder-of-dragons Original Author: Jessa_yeah Rating: Gen Length: 12 minutes Pairing: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley, Rolanda Hooch/Minerva McGonagall/Pomona Sprout Summary: 

Post-war Hogwarts. A small note appears on the announcement board in the hall, offering extracurricular courses. Ginny and Hermione sign up. Something new builds from there - something good. A story about healing, growth, hope, love and comfort.

Listen on AO3

Title: [Podfic] I Loved You Like The Fall Of Rome by pansexual_intellectual Podficcer: bluedreaming @porcelainsalt Original Author: pansexual_intellectual Rating: Mature Length: 1 hour, 24 minutes Pairing: Regulus Black/Lily Evans Summary: 

Lily Evans looks at Regulus Black, across a vast, seemingly uncrossable, expanse, and thinks maybe. Eyes lingering over green-and-silver, and a heartbreakingly beautiful boy amidst them all, she thinks, I wonder.

Listen on AO3

FICS

Title: Old wounds never fully heal  Author: Lillycatdani11 @alyssadani19 Rating: Teen Word Count: 1,008 Pairing: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger  Prompt: #14 Summary: 

Sirius helps Hermione after her bad day at work.

Read on AO3

Title: Saved by a snake Author: Jessa_yeah @thefisherqueen Rating: Gen Word Count: 2,003 Pairing: Minerva McGonagall/Poppy Pomfrey Prompt: #99 Summary: 

Barely a month into her new job at Hogwarts, Poppy Pomfrey spots a kitty in trouble. She rushes to help - but the 'kitty' in question has some opinions on this.

Read on AO3

Title: Keep Me Close Author: MarchnoGirl @drarryruinedme7 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,082 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #32 Summary: 

Draco Malfoy is always tidy. Perfect. Not a strand of hair out of place. Enter Harry Potter and a certain quality of his…

Read on AO3

Title: Sign Author: Samunderthelights @samunderthelights Rating: General Word Count: 2,511 Pairing: Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter Prompt: #124  Summary: When Teddy had rejected his kiss, James didn’t think things could get any more embarrassing than that. But when - after months of hard work - he finally transforms into his Animagus form for the first time, things get a lot more embarrassing.

Read on AO3

Title: What We Find Beneath it All Author: SumthinClever @welcome-to-fandomonium Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,591 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #29 Summary:

 Harry's animagus is an octopus. He eventually convinces Draco to join him beneath the Black Lake and they explore what hides beneath the lake and each other.

Read on AO3

Title: as the crow flies Author: saltwatergarden @talkingtravesties Rating: Teen Word Count: 5,452 Pairing: Draco/Harry Prompt: #84  Summary:

 Harry Potter is a lot of things - hero of the Wizarding World, best friend to Auror extraordinaire Ron Weasley and certifiable genius Hermione Granger, heir to the Sleekeazy potions empire. He is also an Animagus, like his father and godfather before him. Problem is, he hasn't quite mastered the task of transforming back into his human form. Bigger problem is, he's just been captured by Draco Malfoy's owl.

Read on AO3

Title: Hoarding Day Author: Archaic_Nepenthes @mod-and-his-flight Rating: Teen Word Count: 6,133 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #1 Summary: 

Dragon Appreciation Day is something else when it comes to appreciating Draco Malfoy.

Read on AO3

Title: Recurring Theme Author: miscnine @unstrrdy Rating: Gen Word Count: 6,736 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #27 Summary: 

Draco just wanted to go home. Just as he was gathering himself—at least, enough to go on and do exactly that, he was startled by a particularly harsh ripple in the apparition point—then four things happened.

Draco wants a lot of things. He wants to redeem himself to the public eye as foolishly hopeless as it sounds. He wants his mother to leave him out of her plans to reclaim control over her life. He wants to get his shit together more than anything. At least, he did. Now, he's fallen prey to his own predator and constantly has to reign in the greedy dragon that wanted something from Harry Potter—"who, by the way, had just come back to England after seven years of healing dragon tamers in Romania and finally getting the therapy he needed, did you know that? Did you?”

Read on AO3

Title: The Owl in Myth and Magic Author: Aneiria @aneiria-writes Rating: Mature Word Count: 7,156 Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Prompt: #85  Summary: 

Draco Malfoy has a secret, and if he wants to keep it that way, he’s going to have to show Hermione Granger how to have one too.

Even if it is a secret so complex and dangerous that they’re going to have to spend more time together than either of them had planned for their eighth year of Hogwarts...

Read on AO3

Title: Harry Potter and the Mysterious Snowy Owl Affair Author: Ladderofyears @ladderofyears Rating: Teen Word Count: 8,683 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: Self-prompt Summary: 

Harry Potter is the newly promoted Head Officer for the Department of Magical Creature Regulation, and he is passionate about his work protecting vulnerable animals who can’t advocate for themselves. An added benefit of the job is the close relationship that he had developed with his colleague, Wizengamot prosecution barrister Draco Malfoy. Harry’s life is happy and he feels satisfied with his place in the world.

Abruptly, Harry’s happy existence is thrown into disarray when a small snowy owl starts dropping tip-offs about magical creature crimes to Grimmauld Place.

Harry isn’t sure what to think. Is his benefactor a friend or foe? Why are they making such stringent efforts to conceal their identity? Draco doesn’t seem concerned, but Harry can’t help but feel intrigued by the mystery. Who is the wizard behind the owl?

Read on AO3

Title: ANI101: Introduction to Animagus Author: Aelys_Althea @aelysalthea Rating: Mature Word Count: 12,314 Pairing: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin (Gen), Marauders (Gen) Prompt: #69 Summary: 

Remus has secrets. Lots of secrets, but one in particular that Sirius is determined to sniff out. When he, James, and Peter put their detective skills to action, they discover a truth far beyond what any of them could have imagined.

What they would make of that truth, though - that was the real question. Sirius was nothing if not a dog with a bone, and he was determined to do something about it.

Read on AO3

Title: Commander Author: Cassiopeias_shadow @cassiopeiasshadow Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14,167 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #44 Summary:

There was a hiss to his right. It was him. Potter. The adder with the lightning bolt on his back. Draco nearly cried with relief.

“Potter, thank fuck, let me - oh,” Draco said, once he had crawled underneath the stone, into the crevice where Potter was hiding. It was soaked in blood, just like the rest of the room, and the blood was coming from slashes on Potter’s white, scaly belly. Draco picked the snake up and cradled it to his chest. It wrapped itself weakly around his arm and nestled up to the warmth of Draco’s body, barely moving.

“That’s right,” Draco said, trying his best to sound comforting. The snake’s heart beat against his palm, unbearably precious. Draco’s cheeks were wet.

Read on AO3

Title: Hibou Author: worldcrawler @worldcrawlerhp Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15,075 Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Prompt: #77 Summary:

"Draco Malfoy had squared with the fact that he rarely succeeded in things at first. His whole life could be read as a series of failures that eventually became successes.

It was no surprise then, in retrospect, that he had failed to become an animagus not once, but twice before finally succeeding."

This is a story about failure and understanding, about success and honesty, and about two idiots in love trying to solve two very different mysteries - brought together through a series of chance encounters in the highland forests.

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Title: Dog-Star and Lion-Heart Author: unspeakable3 @unspeakable3 Rating: Teen Word Count: 15,932 Pairings: Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Prompt: #98  Summary: 

After Sirius leaves home, the only way that Regulus will allow his brother anywhere near him is when Sirius is in dog-form. Regulus has no idea that the Grim-like creature he shares secrets and bacon sandwiches with is his brother. He has no idea, that is, until he tries to say goodbye to ‘Snuffles’ for the last time, and his canine friend finally reveals his human form.

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Title: Worth Sharing Author: flightytemptress27 @flightytemptress27 Rating: Teen Word Count: 16,829 Pairings: Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter, Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: #23 Summary:

Despite what it originally seemed, Teddy has inherited his father's lycanthropy. Things are very different for Teddy, but perhaps not always in the best way.

James Sirius Potter loves his best friend Teddy and just wants to do what he can to care for him, even if it's dangerous.

A coming of age story beginning with Teddy's third year at Hogwarts and ending with James' final year. A story in which Harry does his absolute best as a godfather, Teddy struggles to accept himself, and James flies.

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Title: The Last of What the World Left You Author: xanthippe74 @xanthippe74 Rating: Teen Word Count: 25,153 Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Prompt: Self-prompt Summary: 

If the wizarding world won’t give Draco a second chance, he has a plan to survive: live in his Animagus form, a carrion crow, in the Forbidden Forest. Not only does Harry Potter come along and ruin it, he’s radiating a strange aura of power that Draco should probably fear, but doesn’t. With nowhere to go and a Life-Debt to his mother that Potter insists on repaying, Draco puts himself into the hands of the reclusive Boy Who Lived. Will the bleak corner of Yorkshire where Potter makes his home be another dead end or an unexpected refuge?

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Title: Night Visitor Author: Kiwi05622 @kiwi05622 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 111,960 Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Prompt: Self-prompt Summary:

His apology came to her on the wings of moonlight. Her response returned to him in delayed indifference. This is Draco Malfoy's journey seeking forgiveness from his past misdeeds and finds redemption through their letters while a prisoner of Azkaban.

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[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

Monster of the Week: The Undead!

From spooky scary skeletons to the original zombies, let’s have a look at the undead who have risen around the globe! This will not include vampires (which I have already compiled a post on) or ghosts (which I plan to compile a post on.)

Note that many of these can best be understood -- or only understood -- in their original cultural context, and I encourage you to continue your research if the lore interests you.

Skeletons/Skeletal Creatures

I am, for whatever reason, enthusiastic about skeletons. There’s a drama to them. They look like they’re perpetually grinning, or grimacing, which makes them oddly relatable. As an artist, I’m always thinking about them as the framework for poses. 

More importantly, there’s one in all of us -- sorry if that made you uncomfortable -- which makes them a universally recurring being in global folklore. Let’s take a look at just a few.

Gashadokuro

Literally translating to “rattling skull,” the Gashadokuro is also called Odokoru (giant skull) or simply “the hungry skeleton.” That basically tells you all you need to know. 

These big boys (and I mean REALLY big) wander around the countryside at night. Their name derives from the eerie rattling noise produced by their giant skulls. As chill as this may sound, the Gashadokuro is not actually chill at all, and if you come across them they will not hesitate bite your head off. This may seem like a jerk move, since they don’t even have a stomach, but they need the energy of the living in order to sustain themselves.

Like most undead fellas on this list, the Gashadokuro has its origins in the real world. They are thought to originate from the mass-graves, usually of those who died under violent or inhumane circumstances, the supernatural byproduct of countless skeletons. 

The first Gashadokuro was thought to have originated after a specific bloody rebellion, in which the bereaved, sorceress daughter of a samurai summoned a giant skeleton from the mass grave of the rebelling soldiers and used it to attack the city. Queen behavior, if you ask me.

Santa Muerte

Image Source

Let’s conclude this portion with my favorite skeleton (excluding Baron Samedi, who doesn’t count, as he is often depicted as a man, or a man with a skull-like face), the goddess/folk saint Santa Muerte.  

I still have a lot to learn about the rich folklore surrounding Santa Muerte, but to my understanding, she was born of a combination of pre-Columbian Indigenous religions and Mexican-American folk Catholicism. 

Depicted as a skeleton in beautiful, feminine attire and considered to be embodiment of death, Santa Muerte is a healing and protective figure. She is beloved by legions of worshippers, despite condemnations from the Catholic church, and symbolizes a culturally positive relationship with death. 

Despite appearances, she is a life-affirming figure.

Zombies and Reanimated Corpses:

The Draugr

When we hear “zombie,” we don’t traditionally think of “Norse mythology.” And yet, the Nordics had their very own zombie mythos, boasting some truly terrifying undead.

It is said that they first emerge from their graves as little more than wisps of smoke and a stench of decay, before adopting a humanoid form that boasts superhuman strength, the ability to change size at will, and the ability to shape-shift. 

They aren’t mindless -- far from it. They boast an anthropomorphic intelligence, which makes them all the more dangerous.  

As to what drives them from their graves? Jealousy and bitterness towards the living. Relatable, honestly. 

The Jiangshi

(Note: I wish they were all as adorable as the one in this gif.)

This Chinese hopping corpse may have evolved into more of a vampire by Western influences, but it was originally far more zombie-like. And a unique zombie at that. 

Due to rigor mortis, the Jiangshi hops stiffly from place to place, holding its arms straight out. What’s even more singular is their origin. Try to guess. Go ahead, try. You won’t be able to.

The Jiangshi is what occurs when a bereaved family, lacking the proper funds to send their loved one’s body back to their ancestral land for burial, hires a necromancing corpse driver to reanimate the cadaver and guide it as it hops back to its resting place. They’d travel at night to avoid or minimize decay, either prodded by a stick or to the beat of a drum.

Other ways to create a Jiangshi include improper burial, suicide, or possession.

Looking upon a Jiangshi is said to be bad luck, and presumably very unpleasant. However, the real problem is their insatiable appetite. 

But fear not: if you see an unhealthy looking fellow hopping towards you with pasty, possibly decaying skin, you can protect yourself with mirrors, the hooves of a black donkey, or the wood of a peach tree. They can also be scared off by the sound of a crowing rooster, though that would require a bit of planning, and the cooperation of the rooster in question. Which, knowing roosters, is unlikely. 

Haitian Zombies

All legends of the undead have roots in real tragedies, but this one is particularly upsetting -- and the source of the zombie legend in the Western world today.

The enslaved people of Haiti believed that death would set them free, sending them back to an idyllic version of their homeland unburdened by colonialism. But only if death came naturally. Suicide would turn them into mindless husks, carrying out the drudgery of their captors. A haunting parallel to the practice of slavery itself. 

The concept was introduced to a contemporary audience by the 1932 film White Zombie, which sees a white “voodoo master” (who clearly didn’t know anything about the actual Voodoo religion) using witchcraft to create obedient slaves. He eventually uses this (ahem) “”voodoo”” on a white woman to try and force her to fall in love with him. 

With the term “zombie” in public consciousness, it became an applicable allegory for all of society’s ills, and can now be used to refer to anything from mob mentality to consumerism. But few are as haunting and as disturbing as its origins.

Videos on zombies: 

The Origin of the Zombie, from Haiti to the US

Where Zombies Come From

100 Hundred Years of Zombie Evolution in Pop Culture

Best Contemporary Zombie Movies*

*That I know of. Will update with more.

Night of the Living Dead - Though White Zombie introduced the term, it was arguably this film that popularized zombies as we know them today, particularly as an allegory for herd mentality and consumerism. Its successors, including Day of the Dead and Dawn of the Dead, prove similarly influential. 

The Evil Dead Trilogy - Established that zombies can be fun, while also serving as an allegory for various societal problems. Also features undead that are refreshingly ravenous and evil without necessarily being mindless.

The Re-Animator - These days, the average zombie movie pushes the bounds of creativity is “make ‘em faster!” The Re-Animator’s take on the genre, however, would make Mary Shelley proud. Based loosely on the Lovecraft story, “Herbert West - Reanimator,” the films greatest triumph is its ability to have fun with its grisly premise, and compel the audience to have fun, too. It’s also a cautionary tale about why it’s important to be careful while getting a roommate. 

Shaun of the Dead - I’m not kidding. This film is great, and shows that you don’t need a serious tone to be heartfelt, scary, or provide a thought-provoking social commentary. Way back when I was a sixteen-year-old college freshman, I turned up to class as a zombie cheerleader, and my psychology professor recommended Shaun of the Dead to me. She’s a woman of impeccable taste, and it did not disappoint. 

28 Days Later - Before Cillian Murphy gave us Tommy Shelby, a gangster so pretty he could give Al Capone a sexual identity crisis, he was proving his mettle in the zombie-addled UK. For 2020 reasons, watching him wander the abandoned streets of London with a questionable haircut feels very topical. Add a stellar performance from Naomie Harris, and there’s a reason it sent me into a bisexual panic it’s considered a modern classic of the genre. 

Little Monsters - An egregiously underrated flick, featuring a kindergarten teacher (who happens to be, you know, Lupita Nyong’o) protecting her class during a zombie outbreak. A must watch if you want a zombie movie with a powerhouse lead, a happy ending, and perhaps the most badass kindergarten teacher in cinematic history. 

[hwrryscherry]

The one with the Christmas Eve, eve.

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N are spending christmas in the French Alps with their families and suddely realizes they didn’t have any time to go christmas shopping this year.

word count: 2.8K

author’s note: Heeey guys, so I'm editing with my phone and I'm not able to add the "read more" tag but I'll do it in the morning🥰 I hope you enjoy♥️

christmas song of the day: Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes

December 23rd, 2020.

house near La Clusaz

— What are you doing? — You'd ask Gemma a you arrived at the first floor leaving the stairs behind you. You observed your sister-in-law with a bunch of wrapped boxes on her hands as she walked towards the huge christmas tree settled on the living room on the left side of the enormous fireplace. Gemma crouched down beside the tree and placed the enveloped boxes on the foot of the tree while you walked towards the big and comfortable brown sofa and sat on the same prop for your things.

— I'm putting the presents here. They were up there in the room and I already started to think it’d break or something — The woman told you while placing the boxes under the tree — And also because it looks nicer like that though. You and Harry should put yours here too.

— Sure, it looks more like home this way — You said agreeing with Gemma and then got up and walked behind the sofa where you placed your palms over it  looked at her — I'll get them, they must be in Harry’s suitcase — You smiled tenderly at her and walked again to the stairs, where you went up step by step until you reached the top floor and walked up to your room. When you opened the door carefully since when you left the room Harry had just entered the shower, you came across Harry with a towel wrapped around his hips giving you an excellent view of his exposed chest and arms tattoos as he placed the items of clothing he planned to wear on the bed.

— Love, I was thinking that we should've gone skiing yest... — Harry started to say the moment he noticed your presence in the room.

— We have a big problem, Hazz — You interrupted him bringing all his attention that were previously in the clothes for the you. He noticed the look of despair that you had on your face and felt the concern take over his body — A huge problem! — When saying this, you rubbed your palms on your face and Harry approached you in a quick pace, gently touching your arms.

— What happened? Are you okay? — Harry'd ask while carefully examining your face and body with his green eyes looking for any sign that you'd have been hurt in any way.

— I'm okay, that's not it! — You said taking a deep breath and then sighing to take your gaze against his — We forgot that we had to go christmas shopping — You'd say with a long breath coming out of your nostrils as you watched Harry frowing in completely silence as he actually noticed that none of you remembered of buying any gifts. The thing is, with Harry filming Don't Worry Darling and you doing so many shootings you both would always say "oh let's go tomorrow" and then you'd never actually go and it turned out that you totally forgot about it — How could we forget it? Oh my god, your mom's gonna be so upset and today is Christmas Eve eve, there's no way we'll find something for them and I panicked and told Gemma that their gifts were up here and...

— Love, love, love — Harry'd interrupt you as he rushed towards the bed and grabbed his clothes to start dressing up — Let's not panic! There's a christmas market down in La Clusaz. I bet there must be something good left! — Harry would say trying to convince himself more than you actually. He'd feel completely bad and shattered by giving no presents to his family. But he was kinda right though. The house you rented were up in the mountains but a fifteen minutes drive would take both of you to a commune that had a beautiful Christmas Market and as christmas day is so close it probably should be open.

— Yeah, sure! — You'd agree going directly to the small closet there was in you guys bedroom that you organized both of your clothes in there yesterday and grabbed some warmer clothes because it was probably the coldest it's ever been since the day you both got here, but thank god it wasn't snowing at this moment.

— Ok but what if they want to come with us? — Harry said as he put on his sleeves and later on his snow coat alongise with his beanie.

— We'll tell them we're going on a date! — You'd fastly say back as you changed your sweatpants to a legging and following it with jeans, and then changing your hoddie for a heavy coat of yours and your slippers for snow boots — I'm sure they won't try to follow us on our date.

— Yeah that'd be weird! — Harry would agree with you taking his phone and putting it inside his pocket and then his mask. Remember how the mask made your face warm in the summer? Thank god it makes your face warmer now. — I'll go downstairs and starts the car and then I'll just say that I was planning it and ye' didn't know.

— Ok! — You'd tell him as you searched for your phone on the mess sheets from the bed, as you found Harry's gloves, you'd take it in your hands and show them to him — Won't you use it?

— No, I'm good! See you downstairs! — Harry'd say as he left the room and walked downstairs leaving you alone in the room. And also, unlike Harry, you weren't wearing a beanie when you got downstairs.

— Oh, you look pretty! — Anne would say with a big smile on her face at the moment she'd see you leaving the stairs while putting your gloves on. She'd come closer to you with your newly washed mask on in her hands — We didn't know you both were having a date, dear! — She would complement as you'd put on the mask on your face feeling a little tense from her words. It's not like you don't know how to lie, you're good at it. It's just that you love this woman so much and it's hard to lie to her.

— Oh yeah, I didn't too! Harry said it was a surprise! — You'd say while putting your phone inside your 2005 Re-edition Prada bag that was actually last christmas gift from Harry. God, you wanted this bag for so long and you got so happy when Harry gave it to you that you couldn't stop thanking him for almost a week after christmas — We should be back soon, though! I don't know how much time is gonna take — You'd add stoping your movements and looking at the shorter woman's face.

— It's okay, darling! — She'd say giving you a warm hug before walking with you towards the door — Now go have some fun! — She'd say happily as you walked towards the car that Harry had rented too. God, the air felt so cold. Of course you lived in NYC for years, and you are used to snowy weather but this feels ten times colder. You'd rush into black SUV that Harry rented feeling the warmness almost instantly when you sit in the passagers sit and put on your sit belt.

Harry started driving directly to the commune center with the GPS instructions and honestly, you were glad that you had a GPS because you could never tell the difference on the way because all you could see was snow and mountain until you got in center. 

You both were so surprised when you left the car after you had parked it. Of course, it was dead cold but it was so pretty. It felt like you were inside a christmas movie with all the lights and decorations and the cute houses with all those people going ice skating and walking around the christmas market with a christmas song in the background. It felt like a heaven made of christmas.

— This must be what heaven looks like — You'd say as you and Harry walked hand in hand towards the christmas market getting a chuckle out of Harry. He knew how much you love the christmas spirit and all it came together with it. It just felt so great, and he learned to love it just as much as you do with the time.

— Do ye' have any idea on what we should buy? — Harry asked as you both first entered the market that was actually a little too crowed for being so early in the afternoon.

— I think that for your mom, we should get her new crystal bowls because you broke hers last christmas and for — You'd say casually remembering last christmas when they were all playing games together and Harry was a little too excited about winning the game and a little too wine drunk too to realize that he was one step away of breaking Anne's brand new crystal bowls.

— Hey, I still feel bad for that, let's not talk about this! — Harry'd say on a playful way making you let out a chuckle as you looked at the many stands options of presents to buy.

— Ok, I'm sorry! But anyway, I think we should get Gemma something classy and cute, maybe with a little...

— Pride and Prejudice vibes — Harry'd interrupt you making you turn your gaze to him seeing the boy with raised eyebrows at you — You say this every year!

— Yes, and she loved all the gifts we gave her in the past 2 years! — You'd say convincingly as you started to walk inside the market basically dragging Harry with you — Imma buy my mom a light spot necklace, you know? That one with only a small diamond in it? She's obsessed with it lately.

The first thing you'd buy would be your mom's necklace.It'd take you a while to find it, but it was so worth it because it was just like the one you have and you knew she would love it. The cute french woman, the seller was an old lady with white hair and a very sweet voice and it's been a while since you've put your french in work so it would really nice to talk to her. She'd tell both of you that she plans on spending christmas with her grandkids on their house and then later appreciating the christmas fireworks. The thing is that both you and Harry loved to know people's story, it's easier to understand and like someone when you know it's story of life and what made it be who it is.

Later you'd start looking something for Michal, which was probably the hardest thing ever because Michal is the kind of person that will like whatever you give to him so it's hard to think about something special and it's a proven thing when it's already the fifth stand that you ans Harry stops at to look for something to him.

— Why is this so hard? — Harry would say looking through some very cute sweaters.

— I know right! — You'd add as you looked through the many jewels it had on the stand — I'll go finding something for Gemma, and you find something for Michal! — You'd say starting to walk away from him and being stopped by the man's rough voice at you making you turn around to look at him.

— Why do I have to choose anything for him? Why don't you do it? — He'd say making you go silent for a moment as you thought about a good excuse about him finding it alone. You know Michal likes anything but you don't want to be the one to find the "wrong" anything.

— I mean, you're a guy! You know what guys want for christmas, love — You carefully say touching his arm as you approached him — And by the way, you've known the guy for five years, and I know him for two years so you'll do it! — You'd say with a convincing smile on your face as you petted his arm.

— Ow so that's the game? 'Cause I've known Gemma for 26 years! — He'd argue back.

— Yes, but she likes me better! — You'd say grabbing a bracelet with the letter G in it and observing it closer to your eyes.

— What do ye' mean she likes you better? I am her brother! — He'd say making a huge deal about the "brother" part. You'd roll your eyes at his little drama and then you'd show him the bracelet.

— Yeah, whatever! — You'd say — See, you could ask if you can buy this bracelet with the letters G and M and I think it would be the perfect gift for him! I'll go find Gemma's one! — And you'd leave. Harry would be kinda shocked on your presenting skills. It surprises how you can see one thing and transform it into the perfect christmas gift ans he knows that you'd call it your natural talent and maybe it was.

For Gemma, it would be a lot easier and right after Harry finished buying Michal's gift, he'd help you with Gemma's gift. You'd buy her two of them because it was just perfect for her. First, Harry would find a beautiful journal with major vibes from Fairy Academia and you both think it would be so useful for Gemma because she's always travelling and discovering some new things and with this journal she could write it down and read it 50 years from now and remember the good old days and the great experiences she experienced. And the second one, you bought her a bracelet that had "sisters by heart" written in it because you and Gemma had the best relationship ever and you knew you could count on her through the good and the best at this is more than what you could ask for.

At last, you both bought the crystal bowls for Anne and god, it was the hardest thing to find. Specially because it was already Dec 23rd and most actual stores was closed now. When you finally bought it, all you could do was to tease Harry about it asking him to please don't break those too. Poor Harry, he really felt bad about it and he really wishes he never made such a mess but it became a funny story to tell and to tease him about.

Later on that day, you'd grab some lunch too because you finished your shopping by just a couple of hours before it was actually dark and you'd just agree that what you and Harry said to Anne didn't have to be a total lie and you could actually have a date and enjoy some alone time.

You both would choose a very cozy restaurant called Les Rhodos, for the grace of god it wasn't very crowed and you both chose a sit by the window so you could eat with the most phenomenal view of the snowy mountain. The restaurant had a lot of details in stone and wood which brought all the alps vibes to it.

You'd both chose burgers to eat and it would honestly taste like one of the best burgers you've ever eaten in your life. Harry'd order a special type of beer to him that was literally green. You don't know how, but it was. You'd talk. You'd talk about last christmas, this christmas and what you expected from next christmas.

— Do ye' think that we'll ever tell them about we forgetting to buy their gifts? — Harry would ask in your drive back home while you admired the sunset by your window. The sky was lilac with a bit of orange and pink and for a moment you felt like you were inside the movie Brother Bear from Disney and all it missed was the northern lights, which you'd totally search on google if it happens in the french alps and you'd find out that it's possible but also really rare.

— I definitely think they'll notice it, H! — You'd say trying to contain your laugh. It's not like you both bought the worst gifts in the world; you bought amazing gifts but it's not what you usually buy and your families will notice it, but they'll appreciate the fact that you both really tried to get them something nice and I mean, it's christmas. Enjoy the holiday experience.

[cali-holland]

Golden Hearts, Ch. 2: Martinis, Girls, and Guns

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond AU ~ Sequel to Golden Bullets

Following a messy split, Harrison, Agent 007, resumes his role as an elite womanizer, after his recovery from his previous mission; meanwhile, you’ve stepped back from your 00 status, taking on cases as MI6’s assistant director from your office. When a new threat emerges to MI6 and a dear friend gets kidnapped, can you and Harrison set aside your differences to save special agent Q, better known as Tom? Or will the stakes- and your love, push you two further apart?

Word Count: 3800

Gif is not mine 

Golden Hearts Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: sexual themes, maybe some swearing, harry and harrison and reader all being jealous idiots 

Featured Song: “Tomorrow Never Dies” by Sheryl Crow from Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

~ “You're not the only spy out there, It's so deadly my dear, The power of wanting you near”

A/N: Special shoutout to @duskholland​ for helping me come up with ways to write “sensual” scenes and to @allegra-writes​ for helping me learn more about the tango (which idk if this even counts lmao, don’t hate me yall it’s just a steamy dance). Also, the tango sequence was inspired by an episode of Chuck... but idk if anyone’s seen that.

~~~

“She’s not coming.” Harrison said, irritation clear in his voice as he stepped out of his BMW. Leaning against his own car, Harry grabbed his duffel bag from his feet with a frown.

“But you said you could convince her.” Harry answered, and the blond shrugged, running a hand through his hair. He went around to the back of his car and opened up the trunk for him to get out his two bags.

“I thought wrong.” He muttered. With their bags slung over their shoulders, they made their way across the tarmac to the jet that they were absolutely legally borrowing from MI6.

“We’ll just have to go on without her.” Harry paused, “I still think maybe I could’ve-“

“Harry, don’t take this wrong, but if I couldn’t convince her, then no one could.” Harrison stated definitively.

“Why’s that?” The younger agent asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand the sudden irritation in his friend.

“No reason.” He replied, biting his tongue. With Harry following him, he entered the jet’s cabin. Harrison shuffled to put away his two bags, one full of weapons and one of his actual things.

“I’ll get the jet ready.” Harry stated, setting his bag in a seat. As he made his way to the cockpit, Harrison noticed a fourth black duffel bag in the cabin. He eyed it suspiciously, but, before he could question it, he heard his friend speak again. “You’re here!”

“You think I’d leave saving Tom to you two divs?” You questioned with a laugh from the pilot’s seat as the surprised Harry took a seat in the copilot’s seat.

Harrison stepped into the doorway of the cockpit, looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face; like he too was surprised you were here, but also like he was proud that you had come. You smiled softly at him, “I thought I should save the person who’s the reason that we’re alive today.”

Registering your words as a repeat of his own, he couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face. “Get this thing in the air, yeah?”

“Prepare for takeoff.” You told him, before turning to the controls before you. With your back turned to him, you missed the bittersweet look on his face as he eyed you over one last time before he left for the cabin.

The air was silent between you and Harry while you two got the jet ready for takeoff. You weren’t quite sure what to say about the delicate situation that was this new, top secret mission, so you did your best, “We’ll find him, Harry.”

“I hope so.” Harry mumbled, trying to keep his focus on the jet and his emotions under control.

“He’ll be alright. He can handle himself out there.”

With the jet cruising on autopilot, you followed Harry out of the cockpit to find Harrison hunched over his laptop, checking Tom’s encrypted message again. You weren’t sure how many times he’d examined the message, but yet again you weren’t sure how many times you repeatedly looked at the images until you stumbled upon a discovery last night.

Seeing him look at the one image in particular of the one man who the database could not identify yesterday, you sat down across from him, simply stating, “His name’s Mr. White.”

“Mr. White? Didn’t 009 detain him three years ago for involvement in S.P.E.C.T.R.E.?” Harrison asked, glancing up from his computer to look at you. Whether subconsciously or not, he sat up straighter, his shoulders back with meaning.

“Yes, and, since we had little to no evidence of major involvement, MI6 released him on parole. Last known file was that he was dying from thallium poisoning, and guess where he went to live out the rest of his days.”

“Spain.” Harry answered.

“Barcelona to be exact.” You stated. “And, according to MI6’s database, Mr. White’s back profile matches that of the mystery man in Tom’s photos.”

“So you think White took Tom?”

“Yes.” You nodded, definitively. “White’s our best lead right now. Besides, M has suspicions that Oberhauser has returned, and, if he has, then he’ll be looking to regroup S.P.E.C.T.R.E. with White.”

“Oberhauser’s dead.” Harrison argued, his eyes narrowing at you.

“It wouldn’t be the first time MI6 has mistaken a case.”

“This Mr. White,” Harry trailed off, “How do you suppose we find him if he is in Barcelona?”

“He has a mansion just outside of the city.” You replied, a proud smile on your lips. “I hope you two brought your dancing shoes because we’ve got a party to crash tonight.”

~~~

Light streamed in through the open window, perfectly angled to strike in your sleepy eyes. You shuffled awake, rolling over away from the window. Your eyes peaked open, and you smiled at the site before you.

With his hair a mess and his lips parted enough that a bit of drool was slipping out, the fast asleep Harrison was your favorite thing to wake up to. Feeling your shift in the bed, he subconsciously tugged you into him with his arm wrapped around your waist. You smiled to yourself, feeling his feet nudge your legs; even asleep, he wanted to be as close to you as possible. Ever so gently, you reached a hand up to run through his hair as you tried to memorize every detail of his face. Your hand slowly shifted downwards, running over his puffed out lips.

“Why are you staring at me?” He mumbled against your fingers, eyes still closed tight.

“You’re drooling.” You teased, your finger running over the small wet spot in the corner of his mouth. Blindly, he puckered his lips out to kiss your hand, making you laugh.

Harrison chuckled as he opened his eyes and shifted closer to you to give you a proper good morning kiss. Caving into him, you rolled onto your back and his lips chased yours, never breaking the kiss while he climbed on top of you. You let out a moan, one of your legs wrapping around his hips.

The moment his fingers began to lazily tug on the hem of your t-shirt, which was really his, his phone began to buzz with the sound of his alarm. At first, neither of you made an effort to turn it off, enjoying the simplicity of each other’s embrace, but, as it continued, Harrison regretfully pulled his lips from yours.

“I need to get going.” He mumbled, moving off of you to reach his phone.

“Do you really have to go?” You asked, and he let out a small laugh.

“Duty calls.” He leaned over and gave you one last kiss before he climbed out of the bed. You sat up against the pillows, white bed sheets falling around you. You watched with a small frown on your face as he moved about your room, collecting his clothes for the new day. Your eyes drifted over to the luggage at the front door. He was off on another mission in Luxembourg this time… or maybe it was Switzerland. Ever since you stepped back from your 00 position, you had a hard time keeping up with it.

“What if you didn’t go?” Your voice was so quiet that Harrison almost thought he had imagined the whisper. Tugging on his white button up, he looked at you with a lopsided smile.

“Love, you know I have to. Besides, it’s only a week. I’ll be back from Austria before you know it.” He answered. He could sense that there was something unsure in your voice, and he gingerly sat on the bed beside you, his blue eyes searching for an answer in yours.

“Runaway with me.” You said faintly, but definitively, as your hand clasped his, “Let’s go somewhere, somewhere where it’s just us. No more sneaking around, no more MI6, no more missions, none of it.”

Harrison looked at you for a moment, and you could see him going through his options in his head. Instead of saying anything, he just pressed his lips to yours tenderly. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, “I’d follow you anywhere. Just let me do this mission first.”

“I love you.” A small smile slipped past your lips as you tried to contain the eager feeling inside you.

“I know.” He answered, flashing you that signature smirk.

“Y/N, come on, you gotta wake up.” Harry’s voice pulled you from your dream, or rather another memory, as he shook your shoulder lightly.

“Yes?” You mumbled, blinking your eyes open.

“Harrison’s starting the descent now. We’re here.” He explained. As you took a moment to clear your head, he studied you curiously. “Were you having a bad dream?”

“Not at all.” You gave him your best smile, but he could still register the uneasiness in your figure.

You wouldn’t call it a bad dream, per se. It was just a rather sad thing to think about now. That morning two months ago was the last morning you were truly happy and it was the last morning you spent with the one person that you wanted to wake up to every morning.

Figuring it’d be best to change the topic, Harry did just that. “While you were sleeping, I got the three of us rooms at the hotel closest to White’s mansion. MI6 has no blueprints of his house, but it’s secluded enough that-”

“That Tom might be there?” You finished his thought for him, and he nodded, biting his lip nervously.

“That’s the hope.” He replied.

“Did you two come up with a plan too?” You asked, and he nodded again.

“White will most likely have cameras everywhere and guards in areas where we can’t go. If I can get to his computer, I can hack the security system to search for Tom.” Harry explained.

“And what would Harrison and I do?”

“Keep an eye on White and watch for any trouble in the ballroom.” He stated. At his words, a smile of admiration came across your face. He didn’t sound like the cocky wannabe 00 agent anymore; no, he sounded like a true MI6 special agent. “What’s that look for?”

“You’re really coming into your title, 003.” You teased, making a small blush hit his cheeks.

“I learned from the best.” Harry winked cheekily.

Just a few hours later, the three of you were settled into your individual hotel rooms that Harry had acquired. You busied yourself with getting cleaned up for tonight, trying your best to not think about the fact that Harry’s plan ignored the very fact that it’d entail for you and Harrison to spend actual time together. You couldn’t really blame him though; he was oblivious to the history between the two of you. All he knew was that he was on a mission to save his brother with MI6’s best. And, for the sake of Tom and Harry, you needed to remain focused tonight.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you out tonight?” Harrison asked as soon as Harry stepped out of his hotel room.

“I don’t need help. Tom taught me how to hack; it’ll be a breeze.” Harry reassured his friend. He adjusted his cufflinks while they made their way down the hall to your room. Laughing a little, he inquired, “Why do you keep asking? Do you not want to be on White watch with Y/N?”

“I wouldn’t say-” He started, but the curly haired boy walking beside him cut him off.

“You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?” Voicing the speculation that had been brewing in his mind for the past few hours, Harry had an accusatory sense about his words as they came to a stop in front of your door. He looked at Harrison with questioning eyes.

“No, definitely not.” Harrison just about scoffed in response. Defensively, he turned to Harry, “Do you have a thing for her?”

“No.” Harry answered too quickly for his own liking. They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other with suspicious eyes, as if they were silently daring the other to move.

It was Harry who caved first, turning to open your door with the keycard. With the door wide open, Harry and Harrison stood frozen staring at you as you had a leg up on the footrest, strapping your heel in place. You looked over at them, questioningly, “Is there a problem?”

Both boys shook their heads and stepped inside, the door shutting behind them. You switched your feet to put on your other shoe, trying to pay no mind to the two sets of prying eyes across the room. You completely knew you were showing a little in a dress perfectly tailored to your body, cutouts along your torso to emphasize all the right places, complete with a deep v neck and a high leg slit. With your heels on- specially equipped with your favorite secret knife stilettos, you stood to your full height to look at Harrison and Harry properly. You’d be lying if you said your eyes didn’t immediately catch onto Harrison and his tight, yet perfect fitting tux. The dark navy blue ever so slightly highlighted his eyes even more. Noticing your gaze on him, his lips twitched into a small smirk, and you immediately turned around to the set of ear pieces on your hotel desk.

“Here.” You handed them their ear pieces, and all of three of you put them in.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked you.

“Just about.” You said, slipping a couple lipsticks into your bag.

“I’ve missed those.” Harrison stated. He’d recognize those gold and silver lipsticks anywhere. Harry looked at him, raising his eyebrows curiously. “Gold are grenades, silver are tranq darts.”

“Genius.” He replied in awe.

You quickly applied one final touch up of your own lipstick, nothing special, before looking at them with a nod. “Ready.”

Riding in the classically styled Aston Martin DB5 from MI6, the three of you arrived to White’s party and easily blended into the crowd of people. The ballroom was busy, packed with people dressed to the nines. Splitting up, you all mingled your way around the room, taking in as much surveillance as you could.

“Two guards at the south exit.” Harry murmured into his ear piece.

“And two at the east exit.” Harrison added quietly.

“The west exit has three.” You mumbled. “Something’s got to be hiding back there.”

While you stationed yourself by the live band, pretending to be interested in their music, Harrison made his way to the bar, his personal favorite vantage point. He slid into his seat, eyes scanning the bar as a bartender approached him.

“Martini. Shaken, not stirred.” He ordered and you bit back an eye roll at his words.

“Keeping it classy, I see.” You said through the ear piece.

“Love, you know I can’t say no to a martini.” He replied, a cocky smirk resting on his face.

“Champagne?” Harry asked, holding out a flute of the golden liquid to you as he came to stand beside you, effectively drawing your attention away from Harrison.

“Thank you.” You took the flute from his hand and swirled it lightly.

“I didn’t poison it.” He joked before taking a sip of his own.

“She’s not a fan of champagne.” Harrison’s voice came through your ear piece. You glanced over at the bar to see him watching you and Harry, his fingers wrapped around his martini glass. Never breaking eye contact with him, you drank the bubbly champagne down in one quick motion.

“There’s White.” Harry pointed out, spotting the host across the room. “He’s out here, so I’m going in.”

“Be careful.” You said quietly. You watched him as he disappeared through the crowd. While you had faith in your former trainee, that didn’t mean you couldn’t still be concerned about him. 

“Don’t worry about him.” You heard Harrison say through the ear piece and also behind you. You turned to see him standing there, half- full martini glass in his hands.

“I thought you were staking out by the bar.” You motioned to the drink in his hand, and he smiled before finishing it off.

“The view’s much better over here.” He took your empty flute from your hands and placed it on a waiter’s tray, right beside his own now empty glass. The waiter moved along swiftly. “You know what the best way to survey a room is?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, shaking your head at him, already knowing his suggestion. “Not here.”

“Dancing.” Harrison sent you his signature smirk, his hands reaching to unravel your arms. “Come on, remember Argentina?”

“I do remember, but we can’t exactly tango in Spain.” But it was too late as he pulled you out onto the dancefloor, just as the musicians picked up their tempo with a new song.

“Sure we can.” He winked. Despite your protests, you still let him take one of your hands in his and rest his other hand on your waist, holding you close enough that you could smell the martini in his breath. To prove his point, he spun you in time with the music. He tried to take the lead, but you wouldn’t let him off that easily as the two of you danced and spun around the dancefloor; hips, feet, arms, all of you moving together in a fluid motion. With his warm hands trailing over the open slits in your dress, he quietly breathed out, “I see you’re still a great dancer.”

“You’re a little rusty.” You answered, your chest pushed against his. Your eyes briefly scanned the room, looking at the security guards at the exits and White. “Aren’t we supposed to be observing the room?”

“I am observing.” He argued, and you narrowed your eyes at him, stepping with him in time to the musician’s beats, your legs brushing against his sensually.

“Observing White, not me.”

“He’s not nearly my type.” He joked, his smile beaming as he looked at you. You went out for a spin again, but when you came in this time, you brought your leg up, hitching it to his waist with ease, thanks to the slit. Instinctively, Harrison’s hand grabbed under your thigh, his calloused fingers running over your smooth skin. His other hand splayed across your bare back, holding you up as he dipped you down quickly.

“White’s on the move.” You whispered to him when you were brought back up, your leg still clinging to him tightly.

“I’m watching him.” Harrison mumbled back to you, before dipping you again. This time, he dipped with you, drinking you in with his nose tickling your collarbone and trailing up your neck until his eyes were level with his. It wasn’t until then, under his electrifying stare, that you realized just how fast your own heart was racing. Still holding you tightly in the dipped position, Harrison darted his eyes down to your lips, and, for a split moment, you weren’t even sure if you’d mind if he kissed you right then.

“Harrison?” A voice asked from in front of him. His head darted up to see the stranger that somehow knew him.

“Madeleine?” He brought you back up to a standing position. His hands immediately dropped from your side, and you stepped away from him to see the stranger. You felt yourself stand a bit taller seeing the other woman before you. This Madeleine was by all means a standard model looking woman- tall, thin, fragile features, and a beautifully simple periwinkle silk dress.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here. How are you?” She asked with a genuine smile, and you quickly picked up on a slight French accent when she spoke with a hint of an Austrian accent. 

“I’m good, yeah. And you?” Harrison replied, almost nervously. You glanced between him and Madeleine, confused by the exchange occurring, and that’s when you saw it. The small spark in Harrison’s eyes as he looked at her, a spark that was once reserved for you. You felt an unfamiliar feeling begin to twist in your gut.

“Never been better.” She smiled, and even her smile was perfect. She looked over at you, laughing a little. “I’m so sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Madeleine Swann. I met Harrison back in Austria.”

“Y/N.” You answered, shaking her hand gracefully, despite that feeling growing inside you. Austria. Of course it had to be that mission.

“What are you doing here? In Spain?” Harrison asked her with a smile.

“This is my father’s party.” Madeleine explained and you bit back your surprise. “We haven’t talked in years, though, so I’m not quite sure why he invited me tonight.”

Before the conversation could carry on further, Harry’s voice came through the ear piece that you almost forgot was in, “I’m coming back out. I checked every bit of his system and Tom’s not here.”

“I’ll let you two catch up. I really should be going.” You told Madeleine and Harrison, who sent you a quick nod.

“It was lovely to meet you.” Madeleine called after you before you could fully walk away. You gave her one last fake smile and turned to go find Harry in the crowd. Just as you saw the familiar head of curls through the sea of people, you heard a sharp scream from the other side of the room, sending the civilians into a frenzy as they tried to run away. Through the commotion, Harry managed to reach you.

“What happened?” You asked him, and Harrison ran up to the two of you with a distressed Madeleine behind him.

“White’s dead.” Harrison stated. “We need to leave.” You glanced over at Madeleine, and he reached to grab her hand, “We can trust her. She comes with us.”

“We don’t have time to debate it.” Harry said, pointing towards the armed security as they drew their weapons. Quickly, the four of you ran with the crowd of terrified guests back to your cars.

“I’ll go with Madeleine to get her car. Rendezvous at the hotel.” Harrison announced, not giving you or Harry time to react before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

You and Harry ran back to the DB5 as fast you could. He slipped into the driver’s seat, and you took one last glance back at the chaos leaving the party. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you saw the one person you thought you’d never see alive again.

“Y/N, come on!” Harry urged, pulling you from your thoughts. Shaking your head, you got into the car.

No. There was no way you just saw him.

~~~

General Tag List: @viagracex​​​ @theamazingtomholland​ @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​ @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ @gorillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys

Harrison Tag List: @Calhtlland @tomkindholland​ @where-art-thau-romeo​

Original Series Tag List: @quinjetboi @baby-haz @kickingn-ames @rougese7en @hollandsosterfield @nj01​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @spencerreidxoxo @duskholland

[humanpersonface]

I keep seeing a bunch of people expressing outrage and worry about all the public art being destroyed and taken down right now-- namely things like Confederate figures, King Leopold, and Christopher Columbus. People are worried about preserving history, so I thought as a verified and degree carrying art historian I would weigh in:

I dont give a fuck, yall.

Tear them down, spray paint them, and throw them into the streets. We have plenty of ways to remember history and tearing down a statue glorifying perpetrators of genocide isnt going to erase history. If anything it will IMPROVE our collective memory of history by reminding us that these people shouldn't be glamorously memorialized or remembered fondly.

Studying art history has taught me that history is colored by the artistic lenses we view it through. Having a fancy bronze statue of Columbus is a lens which perpetuates the myth that he was the heroic discoverer of America-- when actually he was a shitty idiot who didnt know how to navigate and stumbled upon a continent FILLED with people and cultures who DISCOVERED it a good fucking damn while ago (and he was like the millionth non indigenous person to "discover" the continent anyways.) and who then opened the floodgates to massive colonization and genocide. We dont need a statue to remember that this fuck head existed-- the statue just conditions us to continue remembering him incorrectly-- ie with respect that seeps over from time that we need to have progressed from by now.

And you want proof that that is what these statues are REALLY for? When do you think all of those Confederate statues all around the US were built? Right after the war? Nope. The majority of them, like over 700, were put up RIGHT in the peak of the Jim Crow laws. Those statues were put up by fucking racists in an effort to remind people of the "glory" of the confederacy. They were put up to empower white segregation and to remind Black Americans that the racism of the confederacy was still alive and well. Those statues dont just memorialize a glorifying vision of the civil war; they memorialize that decades later America had not progressed past the bigotry that the confederacy stood for. And here we are nearly a century and a half later and we're still not past it.

As an art historian let me say that art is POWERFUL. That's why I decided to and LOVE studying history through art. Art shows you what the culture WANTED you to remember of their society and their people. Looking at a historical work of art gives you a glimpse into the minds and values of the people of that time. So what we're doing by keeping these statues up that represent bigotry and violence is explicitly claiming that the mindset and values of these representations as still current. These statues arent preserving history, they're stagnating cultural progress.

Frankly, the image here of the vandalized statue of King Leopold of Belgium is a much more significant art historical object.

It represents THIS moment in a wonderful and powerful way. It brings forward the true legacy of King Leopold that the statue hid (the red hands alone speak volumes. Not just in the sense of blood on his hands, but one of the hallmarks of Leopold's cruelty while reigning over the Congo was that he would have the Congolese people's hands cut off as punishment for trivial things like not meeting their quota in the fields or factories.).

All the statue before vandalism represented was a hollow trophy from a disgusting time, and the fact that humans still felt it right to remember that time with even an inkling of honor.

If you want images to remember histories like Leopold, then look to the horrific photos taken by Alice Seely Harris which immortalized his legacy. Look to Congolese artists like Sammy Baloji who sheds a light on this history and the remaining effects it has had on the Congo.

You want images to remember history? Look to the images made by artists of color, of indigenous artists, of artists who exposed the violence behind the glorifying veil these statues represented. And look to images like the one here, like the others we've recently seen like it, like the murals and art being made now. Because when future historians look back at this time, they will see this art and these images and view us through those lenses. We should want them to see progress and hope and anger and passion rather than a society wearing blinders and clinging to the propaganda of historic bigotry.

[smrwine]

Louis walked down Main Street in a bit of a haste.

Sunny Santa Monica was bustling fluidly with tourists, visitors, and locals alike. The long weekend drew people towards the boardwalk and shoreline, and into the shops and restaurants that were not too far off from them. But unlike the others, Louis was drawn in by a dinner date with a man six years his senior. Harry was his name. A 31 year-old entrepreneur with green eyes, broad shoulders, and an alluringly deep accent that reminded Louis of home.

Despite only having a few conversations through nights out with mates, Harry was kind enough to invite Louis to join him for early dinner at one of his restaurants, followed by a walk near the beach at sunset. Just the two of them. It was an incredibly romantic proposition, with a sprinkle of Harry’s boasting, but with Louis’ bad luck with American men, he was not going to pass up the glorious opportunity.

Harry generously offered to pick him up, but Louis declined at the last second. He was only 24 in Los Angeles, the second largest city in America, and letting an older man have his West Hollywood address struck him as not cautious. It turned out to be the wrong call, however, judging by how poorly he timed his bus-to-train route and how late he was running. His hair was windswept from the ocean breeze, and the tail end of his blouse was wrinkled from squirming around in the bus seat. He had very little time to fix himself up before entering the doors of Harry’s place, on the main street of Santa Monica, and Louis felt every bit of pressure to make a nice first impression.

In a split second, he pivoted toward a parked black car that he caught his reflection in. The paint job was equally as sleek as the blacked out windows, and the car was clearly from another era. More than likely the 1970s. It was admirably Los Angeles-esque but also served as a decent mirror for Louis’ vanity.

He flicked his soft fringe out of his eyes and placed certain strands in more desirable areas. It was an exceptionally delicate process he took his time with to make sure every lock was in its right place. Louis combed his fingers through until he looked presentable for the public.

Slowly, he turned and looked over his shoulder to smooth out the wrinkles near his bum. He pressed his hands from the middle of his blouse and over his arse in an attempt to iron everything out. Unfortunately, the material sprung back toward him and left him with no other option but to tuck it in.

With swift hands, Louis tucked the tail end into his trousers and continued tuck around the front. The white lace of his underwear slipped out for a brief second but was quickly concealed as he caught it in the reflection of the car. His knickers were for Harry’s eyes only, should he get so lucky.

Once Louis deemed his outfit presentable, he pulled his tinted strawberry lip balm from his pocket and swiped it across his lips. The mirror-like coating on the windows worked perfectly in his pinch and assisted him effortlessly. As his lips turned a desirable shade of pink, he capped his lip balm tightly and stored it back into the safety of his pocket. He moved closer to the window to fix his hair one last time, just to be sure he looked pretty enough for Harry, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the horn honked blaringly in his ear.

Louis squealed in a tone only dogs and small children could hear and sprung back nearly three meters from the car. His poor, little heart was fluttering from the sudden piercing sound and tripled in rhythm as the car window rolled down before him.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” a voice from inside the vehicle called. “I thought surely you had stood me up this time.”

Louis took a deep breath and approached the classic car again.

“Harry?”

The older man was dressed sharply in pleated trousers and a tight fitting shirt. His hair was pushed back off his forehead, and his beard was trimmed just enough to show he made an effort. He had subtle crows feet by his eyes and his calloused hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. He made the car look tiny with how cramped his body was in there. Louis nearly moaned at the sight of him and the bulge of his tattooed biceps.

“It’s truly a pleasure to see you, Louis.”

“You scared me,” Louis exhaled and braced himself against the door. “I was just about to head in, I’m really sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, love. I was quite enjoying the free little show you put on for me. You look incredible in white.”

Louis could not help the flush of his sun-kissed skin and the embers of fire that whirled like a storm inside of his belly. He was wearing a soft crimson top, which definitely meant Harry saw things he was not meant to see yet.

Harry gave him an obvious once over and bit his lip as if he were hungry.

“Thank you,” Louis trembled. “What are you doing out here then? Were you about to leave?”

“About to, yeah, but I’m definitely not going anywhere else now that you’re here.”

Louis giggled at how thick Harry was laying it on. He was a gentleman and sweet, but despite how polite he was being, Louis was sure Harry had to be a bit peeved at how long Louis kept him waiting.

“So, you’re willing to forgive my tardiness? You like what you see that much?”

“I like everything I see, and saw, enough to forgive just about anything right now,” Harry said with a smirk. “And I’d still love to get more acquainted with you, if you’re up for it? Dinner is still on me and my staff, or we can go elsewhere. Whatever you’d like, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’d like it if you got out and properly greeted me first of all,” Louis said. “And then I’ll decide what we’ll do after you apologize to me for honking.”

Harry laughed out loud and unbuckled himself from his seat. He pushed the door open and stood to his full height as he closed it forcefully behind him. He was gorgeously tall as he walked over and was easily a head over Louis as he stood in his presence.

Louis’ heart thud against his chest again, and his knees went severely weak as he caught a stiff whiff of Harry’s expensive cologne on his clothes.

With strong arms, Harry pulled Louis in for a proper cuddle, and squeezed him tightly as if he would slip away. His chest was warm, solid, and everything Louis wanted to encompass himself in all evening long. His hands were big as they splayed across Louis’ back and slid down to gather at the curvy dips of his hips.

“Hello, Louis,” he whispered roughly and deep, sending a shiver down his spine. “I apologize for spooking you with my horn. I just couldn’t help myself, the opportunity was there.”

Harry belly laughed once more, and Louis bit down on his own.

“You should have seen your face,” Harry went on. “It was priceless, baby. Absolutely priceless.”

“You’re unbearable,” Louis said. “I’m beginning to think it should be me who’s on my way out of here.”

“No! Sorry, sorry,” Harry swallowed down his contagious laughter. “I just didn’t expect to be able to make you scream before even saying hello.”

Louis simpered, sinfully.

“You’d be lucky to make me scream again,” he said. “You’ll have to buy me dinner first at least.”

Part 1/?

Patreon saw it first

[cuculine-nelipot]

Wish We Could

Chapter Three: All Aboard (The Hogwarts Express)

2nd June, 1996

“So how was your date?” George asked with a sing-song lilt as soon as Fred arrived back at the store, an impish grin splashed across his face.

“What date?” Fred feigned innocence, and rather poorly. He wound his way through a maze of boxes, putting his things behind the counter before setting about stocking shelves with his brother.

“You know, the one you were on all day with a certain curly haired, amber skinned, friend of the family.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” answered Fred, pursing his lips and shaking his head as though lost. He told his brother everything, usually. But this was different — felt different. For now at least, he wanted him and Hermione to be just him and Hermione, alone together and shinning.

“Oh you know, about yay high, half-Indian, half-Caribbean, muggle born, a fair bit posh, definitely too posh for the likes of—“

“Mate,” his demeanour darkened dramatically, “if you don’t stop it, I’m going to have to smack you.”

Considering however, that in doing so Fred would wind up hurting himself too, George persisted, confident that he wouldn’t. A nice bit of twin magic that. Or a curse, depending on where you stood. So he followed his brother around the store, pelting him with questions.

“Where’d you go? What’d you do? What’s Foyles? Are those books? Can I see? Did you get something for me? Fred did you get something for me? Did you kiss? Did you hold hands? Did you kiss her Fred? Fred did you kiss her? You know it’s funny, I always thought Hermione and Ron— OW!” His upper arm throbbed in pain, and he looked down to see a red patch on his arm roughly the size of Fred’s fist. Fred stalked upstairs, his trainers thumping loudly on the steps, rubbing the same spot on his own arm.

.

Late that night, George rolled over in bed, and Fred’s arm throbbed in pain. “Sorry,” Fred said from his own bed across the room, his voice meek.

“It’s fine,” was George’s sleep-gruff response. He meant it, and that only made Fred feel worse.

“It was a good day. If you were still wondering.”

“Good, I’m glad.”  And he meant that too. Fred could hear the smile in his voice.

Minutes trickled by, then hours. George’s breathes came slower, and quieter as he fell asleep. Fred lay awake, his eyes fixed on the blackness above. Fred and Hermione he said to himself over and over, finding new empathy for 10-year-old Ginny devoutly drawing hearts around Harry’s name. He couldn’t believe his luck, was almost certain it wouldn’t last, couldn’t shake the feeling that they were on borrowed time somehow. He said their names like an incantation, like a mantra, like a prayer. Fred and Hermione. He would hold on to it as long as he could, as long as he was allowed. Fred and Hermione. He let the phrase well in his ears, warm, and light, and rosy. He let it percolate through his body, shinning from his head to his toes, until at last he fell asleep.

1st September, 1998

He couldn’t exactly not go to King’s Cross, it being Ginny and Ron’s last year at Hogwarts and all. Seeing Hermione was just a bonus, even if she wouldn’t talk to him, or look at him. Even if she had ignored every owl and phone call since they last saw each other. Even if he had to see Ron kiss her, even if his only small comfort was convincing himself that maybe he saw her pull away away. It was, he thought, enough just to see her from across the station.

And Hermione hadn’t doubted for a second that he would be there. Still, seeing him set her teeth on edge. The familiar, biting, Fred Weasley brand of annoyance shot through her from stomach to her jaw. Just look at him, standing there, his legs spread in a V, one arm crossing his chest, the fingers of his other hand touching his lips, laughing at something Ginny says. His ginger hair coiffed, and in brilliant contrast to a white t-shirt and navy bomber. What an arse.

Hermione’s thoughts, like his, turn inevitably, unerringly, unstoppably to the last time they were both on Platform 9 and 3/4.

1st September, 1996

The rest of the summer had been peppered with moments like this; Fred tenderly rubbing cream into bruised skin beneath her eye after she had fallen victim to a trick telescope, Fred showing up outside her window on his broom in the middle of the night, to take her anywhere, or to just stay and talk a while, Fred, Crookshanks-like, reaching out to stroke her face while she read, Fred flinging and arm around her while they walked, or playfully shoving into her and running away so that she had to chase after him to get her revenge. Fred pulling her in for a kiss before she could.

Snogging, — this  time behind a pillar in a half hearted attempt to not be seen, at least not by anyone who would care. Her arms around his neck, his hands on her waist, something pink glittering under her skin, his skin. Neither of them had felt anything like it before and both we sure they would never feel that way ever again, not with anyone else.

“Stop it you’re going to make me late,” she whined, but she was smiling and made no attempt to pull away. Maybe she could spare a few more seconds. It wasn’t like she had to say goodbye to anyone else anyway.

“It’s fine that was just the warning whistle.” His voice muffled against her lips.

“Come on Fred. “

“Can’t,“ he teased, “don’t go there anymore.”

“Frederick,” she’d said in her best warning tone. She was going to be late for the prefects’ meeting. He was going to make her late. Fred let out a deep sigh, rubbed his nose against her neck, kissed her quick once, twice, three times on the mouth before he dropped his arms and let her go.

“Granger,” he called. She hadn’t taken three steps. Half turning around, she fixed him with a quizzical look. “I miss you.”

Ridiculous, she thought. She rolled her eyes. She walked away before he could see the smile that cracked across her face, grateful that he couldn’t see her blush.  

She felt a pang of sadness, boarding the train. She hadn’t had anyone else to say goodbye to. At her insistence, her parents hadn’t come. The Weasleys’ are always running late. There wouldn’t be time for a proper goodbye. Yes, I’m sure. I’ll see you at Christmas. I promise. I love you too.

Of course, she would have preferred they be there, but it seemed much too dangerous, all things considered. Voldemort clearly wasn’t hiding anymore, and she didn’t want anyone remembering what her parents look like. In fact, when whatever was coming eventually came, she wanted her parents as far away from her as possible.

But such thoughts were cut short by the fluttering of paper on her cheek. She pulled a small folded aeroplane from the air, unfolded it on her way to the prefects carriage, observed the now familiar script, halfway between elegant and utterly illegible.  

You’re perfect Granger.

And just like that she was smiling again.

1st September, 1998

He throws another fugitive glance in her direction, but this time he catches her looking too. She narrows her eyes at him before snapping her attention back to her parents.

“You have to write to us everyday, do you understand Hermione? Everyday. And we want pictures. Lots of them. Do you have the camera?”

“Yes dad,” she says, trying her best to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

“And film?”

“Yes mama.”

“Okay. Good, good,” her father says. Both her parents are looking at her with the same, worried expressions that cross their faces whenever Hogwarts had come up recently. They don’t particularly understand why Hermione doesn’t just do her A Levels, go to a nice Muggle university, stay far away from the world that had put her in so much danger. She hadn’t ruled it out entirely — A Levels and uni, but she isn’t one to not finish something she started, and she definitely isn’t one to run scared, at the first sign of trouble. Or the hundredth for that matter. Besides, there is the burning desire to experience at least one semi-normal year at Hogwarts to take into account.

“Are you sure about this darling?” Her mother asks again, the same pained expression on her face.

Her parents had married young, and were only in their mid-30s the first time they sent her off to Hogwarts. The intervening years had been kind to them, no doubt, but there was no denying the crows feet carved into her father’s dark skin, the wisps of white hair falling like thin satin ribbons, framing her mother’s ashy brown face, the creases in their brows. They had plenty of time left, it was true, but none they wanted to spare, and Hermione had been so distant for so long. Still…

“Very,” she says, apologetically.

“You’ll write everyday, won’t you?”

“Everyday,” she confirms

“Well, okay then. You better go.” The train whistles in agreement. Mrs. Granger pulls Hermione into a bony hug, all collar bones and elbows, but warm and comfortable nonetheless.  

Everyone boards, Hermione piling into a carriage with Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna, and Neville. She gives her parents final kisses on the cheeks, leaning out the window as the Hogwarts Express glides out of the station.

She stays that way, leaning on the windowpane, long after King’s Cross is out of sight. She watches farm and field roll past as the crisp autumn air whips at her face. The carriage is crowded and suitably noisy, everyone excited and nervous in equal measure at the prospect of returning to Hogwarts.

A small paper aeroplane flutters toward her, pausing in front of her nose. She plucks it from the air, and unfolds it with needlessly careful fingers.

I miss you Granger.

No one is looking so, perhaps for the first time in her life, Hermione acts without thinking too much, without giving herself the chance to lose courage. No one pays attention as she rummages in her rucksack for a quill, or when she hastily scrawls a reply, refolds it into a plane, and breathes on it to make it fly. There. Now it’s done. Now he’ll know. No turning back now.

She feels lighter suddenly, and pulls her body into the carriage to keep from being blown away. She listens to Luna tell one of her ridiculous stories, and to everyone’s surprise, she smiles good-naturedly instead of tearing the (lack of) reason apart, as she would have done once upon a time.

“Alright, Hermione?” She turns to find Ginny looking at her curiously, her pink, delicate face set with perhaps the faintest hint of concern.

“Yeah,” Hermione says smiling, a reckless joy bubbling in her chest, “I’m great.” She laughs and Ginny, though she’s not sure what’s so funny, laughs too, simply happy that her friend is.

.

Things go quiet the closer they get to Hogwarts, each person drawing increasingly inward, all trying to imagine what it will be like to walk those halls again — halls that they themselves helped rebuild just months ago. What it would be like to eat in the Great Hall as they had done so many times, to sit through History of Magic knowing that recently they had no small part in making it. They pull on their robes in silence, do their best to clean up the sweet wrappers and pasty crumb. Harry puts his arm around Ginny’s shoulder and she leans into his side. He brings his hand up to play with the hair next to her ear. It’s unclear who is comforting whom.

Hermione looks out the window, not wanting to miss the first sight of the castle. Ron, in his seat across from her, leans over and tries to take her hand but she jerks away from the unexpected touch. Turning to find a wounded look on his face, she takes one of his hands in both of hers. Then she sees it, the silhouette of its towers against the fast dusking sky, a thousand lights winking in a thousand windows, and she feels magic rush through her veins again.

“Harry,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. He is the only one of her friends who really understood the wonder of discovering magic, and Hogwarts. He is the only one who knows how it felt, learning that it came at so perilous a price. Switching places with Ginny, he leans toward the window, a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. The moment he catches sight of the first place that ever felt like home to him, she feels a slight squeeze, hears his breath hitch. She turns back to look to him, and he gives her a nervous smile, a glint in his eyes approaching something like wonder.

.

Fred was halfway home by the time it found its way back to him. He hadn’t expected to see it, assumed that she would have burned his little note to a crisp. So he just stared at its floating form, mouth agape. The paper plane, growing impatient, began insistently banging into his forehead. He snatched it from the air then, as though afraid of startling it, as if it might still burst into flames if he was too eager, unfolded it with cautious fingers.

I miss you too.

Taglist: @solunars @lovedyouthreesummers @keoghans @aquaeryn @thelasttime

[shellku]

Film Challenge

Okay guys. Finally did it. As requested.

Have you ever left a theater before the movie was over?

Yes. Only once.

If you ever left a theater what was playing: Savages

Craziest (Random) movie you’ve ever seen:

The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

“And thanks for all the fish” -Dolphins

Most disturbing film you’ve ever watched:

Crimson Peak

A film you only watched because (Tom Hiddleston ) was in it: Crimson Peak

A minor role (or movie) with a major actor you greatly enjoyed: Sebastian Stan as Jefferson/The Mad Hatter in Once Upon A Time.

A minor role (or movie) with a major actress you greatly enjoyed: Emma Watson as Pauline Fossil in Ballet Shoes

A movie everyone should see at least once: The Princess Bride

A movie you thought everyone has seen but apparently not: Who framed Roger Rabbit?

A movie you’ve tried multiple times to watch but never get through it: Silence if the Lambs

A movie that legitimately surprised you:

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. While it came out in 1980 I didn’t see it until much later obviously. I wasn’t even ten when I watched it the first time, I and was genuinely shocked.

Movie that you enjoy, that surprises people you enjoy: Scream (1996)

A movie you associated with Religion and it turns out that tracks: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe

A movie you watched a lot as a kid but your not sure why exactly you watched it so much:

Hook. (And) The Sandlot.

My first movie that made me question my sexualité: The Priâtes of the Caribbean.

Sections

Anime

First Anime: Fruits Basket. Vampire Knight.

Anime I watched with my (brother): Full Metal Alchemist

Anime I tried to get into and couldn’t: D Gray Man

Anime I was surprised I enjoyed: The Neverland Promise. (And) Soul Eater

Anime I always liked (even when it confused people): Black Butler

Anime that makes me cry: Your lie in April

Anime that I love but now makes me sad too: Sword Art Online

Anime I’m just not into: One Piece

One that was recommended that I enjoyed:

Blue Exorcist

One that was recommended that I was ehh on and did not finish: Attack on Titian

One I probably should watch: Pandora Hearts

One I watched Randomly : Castlevania

One that I did not watch until (college) that everyone seems to have watched: Sailor Moon

Cartoons

Cartoons Everyone should see:

- The Peanuts.

- Garfield.

- Scooby Doo.

- Tom and Jerry.

- Pink Panther.

Cartoon I never liked: Spongebob

Cartoon I hate now: Kiayu? Idk. The one with the bald kid that whines a lot. Ugh.

Cartoon I can make myself ‘watch’ with the (niece/nephews): Paw Patrol

Films you would Recommend:

80s: The Breakfast Club

Book Adaption 80s: The Outsiders

Murder Mystery:Murder on the Oriental Express

Jim Henson pick: Labyrinth

(Suicide) Satire:Heathers

Romance: Titanic

‘Horror’ Movie: The Lost boys

Horror Movie: The Nightmare on Elm Street

Spy Flick: Saint (1997)

Mind trips: The Sixth Sense.(1999) Donnie Darko.

Stephen King: The Dark Tower

Stephen King Miniseries: Rose Red

Studio Ghibli: Howls Moving Castle. Or. Kiki’s Delivery Service.

Action Comedy: Miss Congeniality

Adventure Comedy: Jumanji

‘Dark’ Comedy: The Addams Family

Romantic Comedy: Legally Blonde

Tim Burton

Tim Burton Animated: The Nightmare Before Christmas

Tim Burton Live Action: Edward Scissorhand

Tim Burton Musical: Sweeney Todd

Dreamworks

Favorite Dreamwork’s Film:

Rise of the Guardians (and) How to Train your Dragon

Disney:

Unpopular Recommendations:

The Black Cauldron (and) The Great Mouse Detective

One that is still rather disturbing: Pinocchio

Best Soundtrack (Golden Age): Fantasia

Best Soundtrack (Modern): IDk?!

Classics (Golden) everyone should see at least once: Snow White (and) Bambi.

Wartime Era Pic: The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr.Toad

Silver Age or Bronze Age: Both!!!

Disney Renaissance or Post Renaissance: Both! If I absolutely had to choose though, Renaissance.

Moana or Lilo and Stitch: Lilo and Stitch

Frozen or Tangled: Both

Soul or Monsters Inc: Monsters Inc

Toy Story I and 2/ or/ 3 and 4? Toy Story I and 2.

Underrated: Candleshoe

Disney Holiday:

Live Action Halloween - Hocus Pocus

Live Action Halloween Series- Halloweentown

Animated Halloween- Frakenweenie

Live Action Christmas- Miracle on 34th Street (and) Eloise

Animated Christmas- Mickey’s Once Upon a Christmas, Mickey’s Twice Upon a Christmas, (and) Winnie the Pooh: A very merry Pooh year.

New: The Nutcracker and the Four Realms. (2018)

Disney Reimagined/Live Action:

First that made you rethink the story: Maleficent

Favorite ‘Princess’ Story: Beauty and the Beast

The Surprise: Cruella

The one you worried about but we’re happy with in the end: Lady and the Tramp

The one you worried about but ending up enjoying anyway: Aladdin

The one that was good but you could have done without: The Lion King (which really surprised me!!!I like it but I didn’t love it. Which for me was so strange since I’m a fan of the original and the play.)

The one you had high hopes for and had a mixed reaction too: Mulan. (Ended up really liking it, but I miss Mushu. )

‘Modern’ Shakespeare Adaption:

10 Thing I hate About You (The Taming of the Shrew)

Clueless (Emma)

and

The Lion King Series. (Kid appropriate)

The Lion King: Hamlet

The Lion King 1 1/2: Rosencrantz and Guildenstein

The Lion King 2: Romeo and Juliet

Vampire Pictures:

90s: Interview with a Vampire

2000+: Twilight Series

Tv Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Vampire Action Series: Underworld

Classic: Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Dracula with a Twist: Dracula Untold (2014)

Fun Supernatural Flicks :

Witches: The Craft

Male Witches: The Covenant

Fairytale: Red Riding Hood (2011)

Ghost Hunters: Ghostbusters

Multiple Supernatural: Van Helsing (2014)

Werewolf Romance: Blood and Chocolate

Kid Friendly Live Action: Casper

Kid Friendly Animated: Hotel Transylvania

Supernatural Series:

Multi: Supernatural

Animated: Sabrina The Teenage Witch. (And) Scooby Doo.

Witches: Charmed

Fairytale: Once Upon a Time

Darker Fairytale: Grimm

‘Superhero’ Movies:

90s: Batman. (And) The Crow.

Series: Marvel’s Cinematic Universe

Classic Animated: Batman the animated series

Modern Animated: Harley Quinn

Girl Power: Wonder Woman. (and) Birds of Prey.

Something Different: Deadpool

Younger Audiences/Nostalgia: Teen Titans (animated)

Harry Potter

Favorite Film: Idk. Can’t choose honestly.

Least favorite character portrayal: .. Ginny Weasley?

Someone you loved: (so many..) McGonagall

Someone you loved hating: Bellatrix LeStrange

Someone you just hate: Dolores Umbridge

First time you cried: I cried for Sirius and Remus in Prisoner of Azkaban.

First time you jumped: Snakes or Basilisk. Chamber of Secrets. (I think I was 12?)

Someone who was so spot in acting on you can’t see them as anyone else now: Luna Lovegood

Someone who was so good even if the look wasn’t perfect: Emma Granger as Hermione OR Alan Rickman as Severus Snape.

Someone who’s injury hit you harder than the books: Colin Creevy.

Someone who’s death hit you harder than in the books: None. They hit but not as much as the books.

A scene you found just breathtakingly pretty: Christmas at Hogwarts

A scene you found creepy (even when you knew it was coming): Nagini uses a corpse as a mask.

For any Potter heads. Some things that bothered you about the Harry Potter films:

- Where is Charlie Weasley?

- Where is Peeves?

- Where are Neville’s parents?

- The green/blue/brown eye thing. (This is not against Radcliffe. Some special effects could have fixed this easily)

- HarrY DiD YOu PuT YoUR NaMe IN tHe GoBlET of FIRE?! 🔥

- In Sorcerers Stone, Why did you change the snake at the zoos breed??

- “Voldemort” versus “Voldemor”. The silent t.

- Hermione’s. Yule. Ball. Dress. Color. Blue. Not pink. She specifically changed the color.

- Fluffy. Hagrid’s adorable Cerberus was originally bought from a Greek man. Why change it to Irish? I like Ireland but it was a Greek man due to where Cerberus’s initially came from right???

- Harry’s first Weasley sweater color

- Why does Harry only see his parents in the Mirror of Eirsed? Where’s the rest of the family?

- The Underage magic rules aren’t well explained in the movies making the 3rd year summons even more bonkers sounding

- The Patil Twins Yule Ball Outfits. They could have been soooo beautiful. Like this is the Yule Ball! The Twins would have (in my opinion) much more elaborate traditional Indian styled dress robes?? Idk.

- Love Movie Hermione! But some moments take away from Ron. Like when Ron defended her in the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione didn’t know what the slur “Mudblood” meant in the books. Ron had to explain it.

- Dobby needed more screen time. Some stuff Dobby did went to Neville because so many Neville scenes were cut.

- Where’s all the secrecy from the books when communicating with Sirius- “Snuffles”? Something Harry’s godfather insisted on to keep him safe.

- Snape’s title of “The half-blood Prince” is not explained. Neither is it made clear that Severus was also abused horribly at home throughout his childhood. Also that like Harry Dumbledore did nothing to help Severus when he was a student. (Or maybe Tom Riddle when he grew up in an orphanage. I’m sensing a pattern)

- Dumbledore should have still spelled Harry during Dumbledore death scene. No way would Harry just stand there if given the choice.

- Ron was not quite as ‘dumb’ in the books and a lot of his funny moments were cut from the movie. Which makes his jealousy moments all the more unbecoming. He also comes off a bit more arrogant in the movies. (This is not against R Grint. Who is awesome) The movies gave Ron the short end of the stick.

- Weasley/Malfoy Fued. Who else wanted to see Arthur and Lucius have a fist fight in a bookstore? Exactly.

- Albus Dumbledore isn’t all Sunshine and Daisys. He does some really messed up stuff yet no one ever seems to question this.

- Remus was the last Marauder. Yet his and his wife, Tonk’s, deaths are barley acknowledged.

- Also Teddy. Harry’s Godson.

- Harry’s and Ginnys relationship is not built on. It’s just there. Ugh. Heck Movie Ginny isn’t that great. You don’t know much about her except: She’s the only girl in Ron’s family. She’s the youngest Weasley. She’s obsessed with Harry. She’s a good Quidditch player. She has a temper. She was possessed by Riddle’s Dairy when she was eleven. She’s obsessed with Harry.

- Draco is essentially Harry’s antithesis. Where is he in some critical scenes in the movies?

- Where’s the Luna love???? Harry’s pretty rude to her in some scenes.

- There is no S.P.E.W. And Hermione’s more ruthless side is gone.

- The guys hair in The Goblet of Fire. Get a hair cut. Please.

- Some of Molly’s less than Stellar Moments. (Ex. When she believed rumors about Hermione and so treated he coldly. How horrible she was to Fleur. Ect)

- Fleur. Fleur and Bill still get married but the objections to the wedding aren’t as presented in the movies. Not is Molly’s and Ginny’s extreme dislike of Fleur. Or when Arthur apologizes to Fleur. Or really any of Fleurs best moments. The whole courting process is skipped.

- House Elves. The House Elves of Hogwarts.

- Percy Weasley. The ‘betrayal’. The returned Weasley sweater. Him turning to protect his family and fight for Hogwarts at the last minute. All gone. Which involves being forgiven by the Weasley Twins not an hour before Fred dies.

- The connection of the Black sisters. Specifically Adromeda - mother of Tonks. Who is Sirius cousin. Who married Remus Lupin. Tonks and Remus the parents of Teddy.

- Dean Thomas is pretty much gone.

- Rita Skeeter. Illegal Animagus. Hermione kept her in a jar.

- The movies didn’t allow Radcliffe to be sassy and sarcastic enough. Harry Potter is one of the sassiest boys to ever walk through the halls of Hogwarts!

- Harry didn’t fix his wand in the last movie.

- The history of the Marauders.

- The history explaining why Snape could never be comfortable around and trust Remus Lupin.

[wolfantlersinspace]

he whistles and he runs

Hello, here's my first Kink/Goretober fic. Hope you enjoy it!

Prompts: Ritual, come-marking

Beta'ed by Raven and my boyfriend. Thanks for the advice, both of you (and my enablers).

And thanks to my enablers: J, Reign, Starry, and Elli~ (I hope you four especially enjoy this).

Harry Potter, Tom Riddle | NC-17 | 4549 words

“Tom,” he murmured, ducking under a branch and nearly touching the top of Tom's diary with his lips, “I really don’t like this.”

“Tom, are you sure this is where I’m supposed to go?” Harry whispered, clinging tightly to a small, black book. It didn’t respond. He shouldn’t expect it to; Tom only answered when Harry wrote to him, despite how much Harry would love to talk to him face to face. The instructions had told Harry to walk along a narrow path deep in the forest, and so that’s where he would go.

Gnarled, knobbly trees grew far into the sky, their trunks covered in moss and lichens. Their exposed roots hid underneath agitated serpent vines, and thorny brambles clung to his robe like grasping fingers.

This deep in the forbidden forest was nothing good and everything dangerous. Not a single ray of light shone through the dense, leafy roof, and a swirling fog oozed out of graveyard lace flowers. The trees were so dense it was hard to see anything at all.

“Tom,” he murmured, ducking under a branch and nearly touching the top of Tom's diary with his lips, “I really don’t like this.”

The only sound was his footsteps, the crackling of leaves and cracking of sticks (and those strange hisses he couldn’t quite understand). He shivered then. What if Tom was wrong? Harry could get killed—

Tom wouldn’t intentionally put him in danger, Harry was certain. Tom cared about him, he’d told Harry so in the faded red firelight in the Gryffindor common room, long after everyone else had gone to sleep. Tom had teased him about spilling his inkwell across the diary in embarrassment for days.

The fog was so thick he couldn’t see the ground at his feet any longer. He gulped. They’d done an assignment on graveyard lace flowers last year. Harry didn’t remember much, except they grew where magical corpses lay, buried and decomposing. The small white flowers were dotted throughout the hazy grey that spewed from their centres.

A bird cawed, cutting through the silence like a knife. He froze, clutching the diary to his chest, heart pounding. His wide eyes darted around the area, flitting from tree branch to tree branch, but it was nowhere to be seen. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. It was fine. Everything was fine. He carefully opened his eyes again.

A scream caught in his throat, black feathers filling his vision. He ducked, but not before the bird (a crow? A raven?) clawed at his face, missing his skin by mere millimetres. He stumbled and fell hard on his knees, the damp ground squelching beneath his weight. His glasses fell, and when he picked them up again they were streaked in mud. He cleaned them as best as he could on his sleeve, but it just smeared around the lens. He put them into his pocket with shaking hands. If he squinted he could see well enough, anyway.

Tom’s diary had managed to stay in his sweaty palms — a small relief. His heartbeat was as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

Harry jumped each time sticks broke under his feet, eyes darting around, but there was nothing but eerie, blurry gloom as far as his eyes could see.

It wasn’t long before he stumbled into a clearing, suspiciously absent of the lingering mist. A stone altar stood proudly in the middle, painfully bright sunlight somehow breaking through the leafy roof and illuminating it. There were no grasses or flowers around the base, just compacted dirt and gravel.

It looked dangerous. He should turn back. Maybe he would’ve if Tom wasn’t resting against his chest, enclosed in a book and hoping for freedom.

Maybe he would if he wasn’t so Gryffindor.

He walked forward, placing the diary on the altar, ignoring the stabbing pain of his retinas as he entered the sun. His gut coiled in anticipation — he’d finally get to meet Tom, to see his face, his body. To meet the boy he thought he might do anything for.

(He ignored the doubt, doubt, doubt spreading through his veins like treacle, the sickening bile in the back of his throat like he knew something was about to go wrong any second.)

The moment he placed it right in the middle the altar seemed to glow, tiny, near-invisible runes lighting up all over the surface, like long, swirling vines.

A coiling black cloud swirled out of the book then, a sickening green around the edges. It pulled tighter and tighter and formed the curious shape of a boy, half a head taller than Harry and much more handsome, with dark eyes and hair. He wore a Hogwarts robe, just like Harry, but it looked old fashioned and second hand.

“Tom Riddle?” Harry asked, and Tom nodded, face carefully blank. “I’ve wanted to meet you for so long.” An embarrassed smile stretched his lips, and he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. Tom probably thought he was a loon.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” His footsteps were silent; Harry didn’t know he was standing in front of him until he was right there, grabbing Harry’s hand. He raised it to his mouth, carefully, precisely, and swept his lips across the back of it. Oh. Harry’s heart fluttered. “I need you to do one more thing for me. Incarcerous.”

Thick ropes bound Harry’s wrists behind his back and pulled his ankles together so close he couldn’t keep his balance. He toppled forward into Tom’s waiting arms.

“You made it so easy for me.” Tom waved a wand — Harry’s wand, how? — and levitated Harry over to the altar. Curiously enough though, he didn’t place Harry on it, dropping him on the ground right beside it instead. Another incarcerous and Harry couldn’t pull his calves away from his thighs. “Now, wait.”

“No, no, Tom, you can’t do this,” Harry pleaded, squirming in the tight ropes. Tom’s eyes flashed as they made contact with Harry’s, a snarl on his lips. There was something off about this whole situation, and Harry wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Don’t tell me what to do. Behave yourself.” Betrayal stung his chest and he looked away, hurt. Everything stood still for a few moments, and then movement sounded behind him, on the other side of the altar. A squawk and a low gurgling made Harry choke, and his stomach lurched violently, but he managed to keep his lunch down.

Harry couldn’t hear anything beyond the subtle rustle of leaves, and a steady drip, drip, drip into a bowl.

He didn’t know what Tom was doing. Was he preparing to kill Harry? He didn’t think he’d be a good ritual sacrifice; he was young, a virgin even. He gulped — that probably made him even more alluring. But maybe that didn’t matter, maybe Tom only needed his magic or his soul.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, hands trembling.

“I hope you’re comfortable.” Tom’s voice floated over the altar and Harry jumped, tensing. At the shink of metal against metal his breath quickened, heart pounding. “I wouldn’t want to be a poor host, after all.”

Despite his fear, his pants tightened as Tom spoke. He clenched his thighs, but that just made his cock twitch against the fabric. Gods, he could hardly breathe.

A clatter, then soft footsteps. He looked up as Tom came into view, fixated on the slight smug smile and triumphant gleam in his eyes.

“Oh dear, it looks like you’ve got a problem.”

Harry flushed, inspecting the bushes behind Tom with feigned interest. “No—” he winced as his voice cracked. “No, there’s no problem.”

“Don’t you want me, Harry?” Tom said, pressing his foot against Harry’s crotch. He flushed violently as he realised how hard he was. “I think you do. I was there,” Tom said, glinting eyes betraying his excitement. Harry, however, ceased his struggling in horror. He was there, every time Harry had touched himself to thoughts of Tom, even though he’d known nothing but his handwriting and the nicer bits of his personality. He felt his embarrassment heat his cheeks and wished he could bury his face in his hands. “I could hear every single thought that ran through your head. You fantasised about me a lot, didn’t you?”

Tom finally stepped away, leaving Harry’s hard cock alone again. He didn’t know if it was a curse or a relief.

Harry watched as Tom crossed his arms behind his back, pacing.

“I was quite lucky I was found by you, of all people.” A wry smile formed on Tom’s face. “Harry Potter. Who else could it be.” Harry had to strain his ears to hear him. “But now,” he started, louder once more, “Now I have you here, scared. Scared of me. I’m almost disappointed, but your fear is absolutely divine. Everything you do makes me stronger, and it feels so good.” Tom tilted his head, angling it towards the sun, and inhaled so deeply Harry could see his ribcage rise. It was a provocative move, a successful move, for Harry’s cock twitched even as his fists clenched.

And he knew Tom knew what he was doing.

“The ritual I want to use to restore my body requires you to be willing.” Harry shot him a furious glare — how could Tom even entertain the notion? — but Tom gave him a dark, secretive look which left his hands limp and shaking. “Of course, if you refuse there’s always the alternative. Slowly, over the course of a few hours, I drain all your magic, life and soul. I didn’t think you’d like that one all that much,” Tom added when he saw the expression on Harry’s face.

“I need you to give yourself over to me, to give your body over to me.” Tom knelt down in front of him, grabbing his chin firmly. Harry couldn’t help but shudder, face warming as those long fingers curled around his jaw, thumb caressing the skin just under Harry’s ear. He could hardly breathe, the air palpable between them.

“Will you kill me,” Harry asked and Tom laughed, warm and low. His face was far too handsome, Harry thought, and then hoped with all his being that Tom didn’t hear him.

“Of course not, I’ve invested far too much into you to do away with you now.” Harry felt himself relax, reassured despite himself.

“Okay then.” Harry looked Tom dead in the eyes and licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’ll do it.”

“I knew you’d come around,” Tom’s eyes gleamed with mirth, and then he was standing up, moving away from Harry’s body. Without his touch, Harry’s skin was cold. “The ritual is simple, I’m sure you’ll understand what to do right away. You’re a smart boy.”

As Tom unbuttoned his pants it suddenly sunk in. A sex ritual? Harry hadn’t done anything like that before, beyond mistletoe kisses with his friends. He wouldn’t know what to do, or where to put his hands, or—

“Don’t panic,” Tom’s voice startled him, jarring in its clarity. “You’ll figure out what to do. I only need your face and mouth.”

Harry opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and jumped when he realised just how close Tom had gotten. He was trapped, Tom at his front and cold stone at his back. Those blasted ropes still restrained his arms and legs, and he couldn’t squirm away when Tom grabbed him by his hair, tilting his head up.

“Open,” Tom said, and Harry did.

Tom’s cock tasted like parchment and old leather. The alternative to the strange taste was death, however, so he didn’t complain. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. He’d only heard stories of blowjobs from Seamus, who always seemed to know everything about sex. Seamus acted like it was an innate talent everyone seemed to have, but Harry wasn’t too sure. Right now, he wasn’t sure he had the talent for anything at all beyond sitting still and letting Tom do what he wanted to him.

Tom let him gently run his tongue over the smooth skin and learn the weight of it against his tongue. He gave himself time before he closed his lips around it, sucking gently. The hand in his hair gradually loosened as Tom realised Harry was participating out of his own free will until Tom’s fingers were merely carding through the thick pile of curls. It was reassuring, and he felt himself grow more and more comfortable with what he was doing. Slowly but surely he worked his way down, further and further until he could take half into his mouth. Unfortunately, the back of his throat was an impassable object and Tom had to settle for less, though he clearly didn’t want to, Harry could feel the little thrusts of his hips.

Tom started letting out little gasps when Harry twirled his tongue or sucked with the right amount of pressure. He wanted to grab Tom’s cock, to jerk the bit he couldn’t fit into his mouth, but his hands stayed behind his back, wrists still wrapped up.

Apparently, even now, Tom didn’t trust him.

As he gained confidence, he allowed himself more, bobbing his head along Tom’s length, wishing he could feel the slight quiver of Tom’s thighs under his hands while he worked. He was used to the taste by now, couldn’t imagine cock as anything else.

Maybe, despite the deception, he still liked Tom, wanted him with all his being.

The hand in his hair tightened once more, and Tom positively shook as Harry sucked particularly hard, a low moan leaving his lips. Harry was aching in his pants, longing to reach down and touch himself, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t and it turned him on more.

“Harry, oh.” Tom’s eyes were glowing, reddish and bright as he met Harry’s, and then his cock was gone, leaving Harry’s mouth strangely empty. Tom took himself in hand, tugging with more force than Harry did for himself. “I’m gonna—”

The first spurt splattered across Harry’s eyebrows and he closed his eyes reflexively. He thought about saying something, but then realised he had nothing to say. Another spurt landed on his cheek, and then another across his nose and lips. He darted his tongue out and screwed his face up. It tasted like ink.

“Thank you, Harry,” Tom said, a nearly imperceptible wobble in his voice. “Will you run if I untie you?”

He wouldn’t, not like this (not without his wand). He could hardly breathe, his stomach clenching with need. He wanted Tom to touch him, to maybe reciprocate.

“No.”

As his circulation began moving through his hands and feet once more he couldn’t help but tremble, in anticipation, or need, he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he wanted to know. He rubbed his wrists and ankles, pouting at the tingling in his extremities.

“I need you to get on the altar, can you do that for me?” Tom said softly, hand outstretched. Harry grabbed it, face warming at the tremble in his fingers. He let Tom pull him up, and carefully climbed on the altar. It wasn’t very comfortable to lie on — his only respite was that he wouldn’t have to be on it for long.

Here, when he turned his head, he could see what Tom had on the other side. A whole dead rooster, hung by its feet, bled into a bowl. By now its dripping had slowed to the point where it hardly drained at all, and the bowl underneath was filled with ruby red blood. There were other things as well; a bundle of herbs, a shimmering potion, and a small bag. Harry almost didn’t want to know what hid inside it.

“Look up for me,” Tom said, leaning over Harry’s head and blocking some of the glaring sunlight. Tom even looked handsome upside down.

Tom’s fingers moved through the come on his cheek, dragging it into the shape of runes. When Tom scooped some of the come from his nose and pulled his hand away, Harry could see it was dark, inky, unlike his own.

Tom drew a rune on Harry’s forehead, and another one on Harry’s neck, and then stepped away, leaving Harry’s eyes exposed to the brightness of the sunlight. He closed his eyes reflexively.

“You look good like that,” Tom said offhandedly, and Harry blushed, embarrassment burning coiling in his stomach. Strangely enough, he enjoyed being covered in Tom’s come, perhaps not this way in particular, but under different circumstances, he could be easily persuaded into it.

Harry heard Tom place the bowl of chicken blood down on the altar, the ceramic clinking against the smooth stone. He didn’t want to get covered in chicken blood, but he knew Tom needed him to be willing. He readied himself for the feel of blood (would it be warm, or cold?) but the sensation never came. He cracked an eye open, looking over at Tom when he heard the subtle sound of dripping fingers, and he couldn’t help but gasp.

Tom had shed his outer robe, shirt and tie — Harry could see them folded up neatly next to the bag — and Harry realised Tom was the slightest bit transparent. At some point, Tom had acquired a mirror (perhaps magic, or maybe it was in the bag. He wouldn’t put it past Tom to conjure one, however; Tom was a genius after all), and was carefully painting runes on his torso with his free hand. The blood made Tom’s pale skin look paler, and Harry flushed when he realised Tom caught him staring. Tom threw him a little smile and Harry flushed once more, squeezing his legs together. Gods, Tom’s mouth did things to him. The blood didn’t drip, somehow it started drying the moment it touched Tom’s skin. Magic, it had to be. But when Tom moved closer he could see it had sunk into his skin.

Tom really did have the characteristics of a book, even in this humanoid form.

“Now, relax. You don’t have to do a thing.” Harry did so, letting Tom tie something into the strands of his hair. They smelled sweet, their scent powerful enough to break through the overwhelming aroma of ink flooding his nose.

Tom chanted softly as he worked, smooth, rhythmic vocals falling out of his lips. It lulled Harry into a sense of security and safety, even if he couldn’t understand it. He wasn’t sure what language it was, but he thought it may be Gaelic.

He breathed carefully, deeply, as Tom brushed a stray curl off of his forehead and trusted Tom with his body, with his soul.

“You’re doing so well, Harry,” Tom whispered, and Harry’s lips pulled into a slight smile.

A powerful light feeling was rising in his gut, almost overwhelming its capacity and he knew it to be his magic, rising up and preparing to spread out of him to help Tom. There was something else there as well, something darker intertwining with his magic. Tom.

Tom finished his chanting, body tense, and Harry watched him disappear from view, hissing in pain.

Colour, everywhere, lighting up the very air around him, sparked through his fingertips and filled the grove with the most unimaginable lightness. Harry could drift away on the weightlessness of the magic, the easy way it eased inside his bones and ached to carry him away.

He could hardly tell as it faded, vision blurry and breath stuttering in his chest. It was the most magic he’d ever felt in his life, perhaps even more glorious than the magic of Hogwarts herself.

A groan sounded from the ground, and he pushed himself up unsteadily. Gods, he couldn’t even feel his legs, which he swung over the side of the stone and hopped down onto the ground. He didn’t feel the same, not with that intoxicating magic coating him. He stumbled over to Tom, his legs shaky, and collapsed on the ground next to him, uncaring of the dampness seeping through his pants.

“Tom,” Harry giggled. Tom looked like a right mess, but the transparent sheen had disappeared. Blood flaked off his skin, falling into the Earth below. “I can’t see through your head anymore. You’re real now.”

Tom coughed, pushing himself up a little. He seemed very out of sorts. “It worked? I—” He looked at Harry with wide eyes, an untamed grin spreading across his face. He looked the happiest Harry had ever seen someone. “Harry, I could kiss you.”

Harry flushed, and emboldened by the wild magic he said, “Why don’t you?”

Despite Tom’s shakiness, he pulled Harry down, and Harry landed half on top of him, fingers curling into Tom’s hair as their lips pressed together, fuelled by a chaotic fury. As their lips moved against each other, Harry couldn’t help but want more. He opened his mouth for Tom’s tongue, giving in to his dominance with desperate need.

He was still hard — he had been the entire time — and it made itself known when they shifted closer, Harry’s legs falling on either side of Tom’s hips.

“I should take care of you. I think you deserve it,” Tom said, a wicked smile on his face and Harry nodded eagerly. Merlin, Tom was a sight, streaks of dried blood cracked across his face and body, hair mussed and cheeks flushed. His lips were red, and Harry couldn’t help but think about kissing him again until they were purpling, of sucking and biting his lip until he lost control. And oh, didn’t that thought make him tremble. “Your mind, Harry—” Tom said, “—is delightful.”

He’d forgotten Tom had that wonderful trick, legilimency. Harry didn’t even feel Tom slipping into his mind.

He dove forward as Tom’s hands pulled him down and pressed their lips together, scraping Tom’s lip with his teeth and revelling in the soft moan that spilled from his lips. The feel of their bodies pressed together was spectacular, and he shivered at the feel of the long length hardening against his hip. He wondered if Tom felt the same about Harry’s.

Tom’s hands unbuttoned Harry’s shirt without care, tugging in frustration when the buttons refused to come undone and then moved to Harry’s school slacks, which he only pulled Harry’s cock out of. He couldn’t help but look down at himself, at the bead of pre-come sliding down the head. When he looked at Tom, his dark eyes were ravenous.

“Gods, look at you, face covered in my come, so hard for me,” Tom cut himself off as he grabbed Harry’s cock, seemingly relishing in the moan Harry couldn’t hold back. “Wonderful, you’re so responsive to my touch.”

Tom’s free hand trailed over Harry’s stomach, running through the hair there and up to his chest. The brush of Tom’s thumb against his nipple sent sparks down to his cock, which twitched needily in Tom’s grip. When Tom finally started jerking him off it was almost too much, and he curled over, hand on the ground next to Tom’s head. Each movement of Tom’s hands left his body aching for more and crying for release.

“Tom,” he whimpered helplessly, and Tom smiled the genuine smile from before, tightening his grip just a little and fuck—

He’d never felt a better orgasm in his life, his thighs trembling and hands shaking as he wanted to curl further into himself, to protect himself from Tom’s determined hand which milked him through it, squeezing until the very last drips were out. He couldn’t open his eyes for a while, head spinning and body exhausted. He was tempted to fall asleep right here, on top of Tom, without cleaning up anything. He could hardly breathe, his chest only accepting air when he forced it to.

“Merlin,” he breathed, opening his eyes to Tom, Harry’s come streaking his chest and stomach, one spurt even catching his chin. If he hadn’t just come, he’d get hard from this alone.

“Quite.” Despite his curt tone, Tom’s eyes were softened with fondness. At least, Harry hoped they were. “You don’t need to deal with me, I’ve already had enough for today.”

With reluctance in every movement, Harry forced himself to move. His legs were weak, and he helplessly collapsed next to Tom, who got up like he wasn’t sporting an erection as noticeable as a unicorn in a thestral herd. He still had Harry’s wand, though Harry wasn’t sure where he’d kept it. Tom waved it over his body and all the residue on his skin disappeared, and then he did the same to Harry. The spell cooled his skin until he was shivering, but he felt noticeably cleaner.

A couple of vanishing charms and all the evidence of the ritual was gone; the altar in the middle was the only thing remaining, as undisturbed as it had been before they’d come here.

“I can’t come back to the castle with you,” Tom said as Harry buttoned up his shirt. “But I like—I’d like to exchange letters with you.”

Harry flushed, suddenly finding his buttons very interesting. “That would be nice.” He looked up again, meeting Tom’s eyes as he said, “You didn’t have to trick me, you know. I-I’ve liked you for so long, I would’ve done it anyway.”

Tom was the one who flushed this time, a charming pink coating his cheeks. “Yes, well. I didn’t think you’d want to.”

Determination settled in Harry’s gut and he marched forward, refusing to get embarrassed, and he grabbed Tom’s hands in his own, looking up at him. Tom’s hair was back to the perfect state it had been when he’d come out of the diary, much to Harry’s dismay. However, he comforted himself with the knowledge that he’d seen Tom without his stuck up persona.

“How many of our conversations were real?” Harry couldn’t help but ask, pressing himself against Tom’s warmth. Tom looked away, a strange twist to his lips.

“Since December, when you said you’d like to sit with me in the Astronomy Tower and share my birthday with me, all our conversations have been truthful.” Tom paused. “The only lie I told you were the circumstances of the ritual.”

He remembered that night, where he sat alone at the top of the Tower, just him and Tom, trapped in the diary. Tom had told him a lot of things since then, had scrawled out his fears in his perfect handwriting and helped Harry with his own.

“I’m not happy you lied to me,” Harry said seriously but tightened his grip on Tom’s hands when he tried to pull away. “I am happy you’re being truthful now, though. And I’m happy you’re with me, in person I mean.”

Tom let Harry twist their fingers together, a curious expression on his face.

The way back to the castle was far less scary when he could follow Tom, who knew the way back. Tom gave him the diary at the edge of the forest, tucked under the shade of the trees.

“Write in it when you’re lonely, and I’ll always write back.” And with that he spun on his heel, disappearing in a swirl of black, flying away over the treetops.

When Harry got back to his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, a small note rested on his pillow, a deep red rose on top.

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight. TR

[geckolady]

Skulduggery Pleasant: Raising Cain - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Clues and progress

They got to the car they borrowed and had to call a taxi to help get them all back to Gordon’s. They decided to rest for a little while before heading out and Crow went upstairs to remove the body which would be collected by the Sanctuary Cleavers and then cleaned up what he could, Wolf helping him.

Panda sat carefully at the kitchen table, looking at her nervously try to think up something to eat. She could make little bits, her and Gordon had been learning things slowly as a way of spending time together and also so Gordon wouldn’t forget to make food as often, Stephanie would remind him to spend time with her. It made her chest ache for him for a moment. She still loved him, but he had set up everything so she could move on quickly and she intended to make him proud.

She found some rice, tinned tomatoes, passata, cheese and mozzarella after a while and after digging out the recipe from the messed-up folder they had created together. Panda helped her work out how much food they needed for six, then decided after a moment to add on another two portions considering they were all so big and they were all so hungry.

It took a while to make and she had had to replace some passata with tin tomatoes, which were meant to be fresh anyway, and there defiantly wasn’t enough mozzarella, but with cheese on top and the fact it was alright tasting and there was more than enough for everyone, she was the star of the night and everyone doted on her. She’d always thought cooking for people was boring, but they made it fun, and Panda had done all the onion chopping so it wasn’t too horrible.

When they had all finished the meal – Stephanie had forced Crow to sit with them – they all went their various ways to relax. They had made sure to have two on night duty as well as Crow at all times but Stephanie was not involved though she didn’t complain with that, as the others would also be doing washing, drying and putting away since she cooked.

She washed for a long time in the shower, finding a lot of bruise and feeling a lot more aches than she realised she had. There was a particularly big yellowing bruise on her butt cheek she had no idea about but it didn’t hurt and too soon she was out the shower and in her massive, fluffy towel. She took the old nail varnish off her toes and couldn’t be bothered to repaint them after filing so she finished up, including her teeth and putting away the things she’d used in the draws, although they had no real home so it wasn’t exactly organised.

She didn’t care though so she took her clothes back to her room with her towel around her. She was sort of embarrassed to get waved at by Weasel who was going into his room someway down the hall as she was used to sleeping on a whole different floor to Gordon and had even walked, quiet freely, from the bathroom to her room naked without fear of being spotted in the past. She wouldn’t be able to do that anymore, which was disappointing in a weird way. Walking around naked was fun.

She shook the strange thoughts from her mind and went to her room with her massive super king bed and beautiful sheets and all her pillows and throws in various colours and materials, some gifts from her friends, others artfully picked by Gordon. The four-poster had semi-transparent white curtains she always had the tied up. When she was younger they had been the best thing in the room.

She had a desk and fairly new computer though the monitor was the same one from years ago, possibly from before she was born, a desk that went across the span of the room held up with massive screws and brackets rather than legs, giving the allusion of a lot of space. She had a vanity and massive walk in wardrobe with custom shelves, hanging space and shoe space that had never been full but she still loved for the fact it was over the top and made her feel important.

She changed into new pyjamas and got under the covers. She slept soundly.

She had a vague dream of Gordon that night, nothing of importance, no particular event, but she dreamt of Gordon, her and her boys. That’s what she called them in her dream and as soon as she awoke, she remembered that and not much of the dream itself. She decided that was what they were. She was their girl and they were her boys, her bothers. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect name for them, but it was the feel more so than the name itself.

She didn’t bother changing from her shorts and massive t-shirt Gordon had handed down to her some years ago, just grabbed her Panda toy to show Panda and slowly rubbed her eyes and went downstairs.

They were all in the kitchen, Bear, Panda and Weasel mumbling over tea, Crow reading a newspaper and the others far too excited for the morning and making up a big meal for them all. Stephanie sat on Bears lap and he moved back to give her room and was in a good enough mood to even wrap one arm back around her so it rested on her opposite hip, basically hugging her. Such a big, bad man, so feared across the land, and here he was, grumpy, drinking black tea and cuddling her.

“Cub!” Wolf said when he turned around. He was wearing an apron that said ‘I’ve been a naught cook’ on it and started laughing. “What do you want for breakfast?”

She stifled her laughs. “Whatever’s going I guess.”

“A full Irish, coming up.”

“Well, not a full one,” Crow pointed out over his paper.

“No,” Snake agreed. “But it’s pretty close.”

Stephanie listened to them argue over breakfast and noticed she was the last down and only one that hadn’t gotten dressed. Looking at the clock, she noticed it was ten o’clock and they must have been waiting for her.

She was given her food not long after and when they had all eaten and she’d helped putting things in the correct place when it was washed, she ran and got herself ready for the day. Back in her protective clothes, she came back to the kitchen to reconvene and found them inspecting her Panda bear.

“Hey!” She said, making them jump. “Don’t touch my Pandy!”

Wolf put it in the middle of the table. “I just wanted to see Ghastly’s namesake is all.”

“Yeah, just curious,” Snake said.

“Which is totally allowed,” Weasel pointed out. “So don’t get mad.”

“Yeah, but this is special. It was made for me and it’s special and you can’t hurt it,” she told them. “Anyway, I wanted to show Panda.”

“He saw it earlier,” Crow said, coming in from the living room. “He said it brought back memories of the wild animals his father made for him as a child. I think he wishes he made you more now.”

“He made me tones of stuff. I have almost everything you ever got me upstairs. Even the nonsense stuff you gave me.”

“They weren’t nonsense,” Crow muttered and left the room. “We’re leaving in five so get ready.”

Stephanie put her old toy, which was quite beaten up but still cute, at the end of the table and they got into the Bentley and the van and made their way down to the coast.

They stopped near her aunt and uncles place and Stephanie looked out the window at the nice little house. It was deceiving, how quaint it looked considering how bad the people within it had been to her on occasion. She was hardly Harry Potter but she deserved a little better from them, at least.

“Can’t we just steal it? I want to break in,” she told them.

“Stop whining. You get to steal it now, just walk over, go in, steal it and leave. Done,” Crow told her.

“It’s not the same and you know it,” she said, but got out the car, accepting that she was about to embarrass herself greatly in front of everyone.

She knocked on the door and waited until Fergus opened it. “Oh,” he said.

“Yeah. I was wondering how you were?” She asked. It sounded more like she was questioning the question. She certainly was.

“Uh, we’re fine. How are you?”

“Grand, grand. Um, could I use your bathroom?” She blurted out, wanting to get it over with.

He looked at her suspiciously. “Why? What are you up to?”

She frowned meanly at him. “Nothing. I went for a walk at the coast, needed to pee and came here. Is that so bad?”

He made a grunt noise but let her in and she bolted up the stairs to the bathroom. She closed the door and then listened carefully, hearing him call Beryl’s name and her shout back from the kitchen. She crept from the bathroom to her Aunt and Uncles room and searched the jewellery box. She found it quickly, flushed the loo and ran down the stairs.

“Thank you!” She called and closed the door on her way out.

She walked at a normal speed until she was sure Beryl couldn’t spy on her and then ran to the car and got in.

“That was not fun. I hope you understand that.”

“I don’t,” Crow said. “Now let’s go.”

They travelled back to the mansion and found it thankfully clear of intruders. The basement only took a moment to search with all seven of them and they used the key to get in, Stephanie getting to do the honours. It smelt dank and wet and felt frigidly cold.

They couldn’t all go in as there were monsters within would sense their magic, so Stephanie, Crow and Wolf would enter and the others would stay behind to guard and keep them hidden since they didn’t know if Serpine knew of the caves yet and if it gave them a few moments to get the Sceptre’s alliance to them first, it would be the edge they needed.

It felt slow at first, being in the cavernous maze and just slowly wandering around, finding boring plants and fungus everywhere. She had been instructed not to touch any as it was as dangerous as the sentient things down there. Maybe more so.

Stephanie pulled out the little torch she had stashed away in her jacket and they used it to pass a little stream type thing, and to avoid a massive tendril that was moving silently and might have been a snake though she honestly couldn’t tell. They couldn’t use magic, so her torch was invaluable. When they heard noises up ahead she clicked it off and they pressed into the shadows, Wolf’s hand on her shoulder.

The monster passed them with slow, powerful sweeps of its paws – a single claw was bigger than her foot. They waited for it to go around the corner and Wolf let her go and they began running through the dark halls with the torch to help them. Eventually they stumbled across a Snickers wrapper.

“Gordon,” Stephanie said, almost welling with emotion but holding it back resolutely.

“A clue,” Crow said. “We’re on the right track.”

They carefully followed the cave system further down into the dark and they were relying solely on Stephanie’s light for guidance. They reached a large space at the end with three other corridors and an overhang above them. In the centre of the room was the Sceptre.

Crow carefully checked the air with his magic and then nodded to them. They had already decided that Crow should be the one to touch the Sceptre first since he had the most control and would be the hardest for Serpine to kill. He strode forwards and the thing started to sing. He picked it up. It… did nothing.

How anticlimactic.

“Boring,” Wolf said, stretching. “Time to go.”

They left the caves at a jog and Stephanie was incredibly surprised to find everyone above perfectly fine and healthy. They hadn’t even spotted cars around the walls. Bear said it was too quiet, but they were grateful nonetheless and sat around the living room to think of their next move, the Sceptre sitting innocently, and loudly, on the coffee table.

“It needs to be destroyed,” Bear said. “It has no place existing, especially now Serpine is after it.”

“It’s a valuable weapon though. It could be an asset in stopping Serpine,” Weasel suggested though didn’t seem too happy with it.

“I think we should destroy it as soon as Serpine is dead,” Crow said. “It is an asset, and if we could get it assessed first, prove its existence, we can kill Serpine without consequences.”

Wolf shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of destroying it, but it’s too dangerous.”

Panda nodded. “Dexter’s right. I know you want to be certain we can kill him Skul, we all do, but this isn’t the way.”

Stephanie put her hand on Crow’s gently. “It’s way too dangerous. We might not get another chance to destroy it and if someone else gets it, it’d be awful.”

He was quiet as he thought about it. “I suppose you are right. The risk is too great. But that means we need to know how to destroy it.”

Panda stood up. “I think it’s time I paid a visit to the family Vault. Who else wants to go?”

In the end, Panda, Stephanie and Crow decided to go to his family Vault while Bear went to the Sanctuary to try and convince the Elders of the Serpine’s actions. The others would stay where they were to guard the house and Sceptre. It was a fairly long drive to The Vault and on the way Panda and Crow explained a few things.

“The Vault is not a place that is gone in lightly or often,” Panda told her. “My family have collected things over centuries and I have only been in their twice myself. My mother didn’t even go in there as it was from my father’s side and they were always too protective over it.”

“Why are you bringing me and Crow then?”

“You’re family,” he said. “And that one won’t let me not take him.”

She laughed. “What stuff did they collect?”

He shrugged. “Mostly paintings, but they were very interested in the Ancients, which we told you about already, so hopefully they will have something in there that can tell us about destroying it.”

They got to the art gallery in good time and caught the guards before they were leaving, allowing Panda to show his documentation, though it was unnecessary since it was impossible not to recognise him, and they waited for them to open the massive metal door, and it was shut after them, so they could browse.

It wasn’t as big as Stephanie had assumed it would be, but it was still packed with things, all valuable looking. There was art everywhere, some of what she assumed was the most valuable on the walls, and cases of clothes, jewels, piles of books and a massive oval table and chairs in the centre though upon the surface was more things she couldn’t identify.

“Where do we start?” Stephanie asked.

“I’ll start over here,” Panda said, walking to one of the corners.

“You look at the paintings,” Crow told her. “If you find anything relating to the Ancients that might be useful, tell us.”

She nodded and got started on the nearest rack of paintings. They were very expensive and she did her best to handle them with care, the way Gordon had taught her when they had gone through his collection one time. Panda found some maps in his corner they thought could have been places the Sceptre might have been found at one time, though they had no way of checking since they had the Sceptre. They did put them carefully on a chair for photographs though, just in case there was more information about the Sceptre in those places. It must have been almost twenty minutes later that Stephanie found a picture of it.

“I found something,” she said. “But it’s just someone using the Sceptre, not anything about destroying.”

“Tell me about it,” Crow said, his voice muffled as he was bent straight over into a chest.

“It’s a man, and he’s reaching for the Sceptre. It’s sort of hovering just out of reach, and it’s glowing.”

“Is there anything strange about him?” Panda asked, looking through scrolls.

“Yeah… he’s shielding his eyes but they’re both wide open. He looks kind of crazed actually.”

“What does that mean?” Crow asked her, pulling himself from the chest.

“Well, you’d expect him to be squinting, you know? There’s so much detail, there’s no reason the painter wouldn’t make him squint.”

“Anything else strike you as odd?”

She looked it over again. “The shadows.”

“What about them?”

“There’s two. And the Sceptre isn’t making them, the angles are wrong. Maybe the sun?” She suggested as he came over to look too.

“Yes, but what time of day would it be?”

“The shadow at his feet would make it noon, making the sun overhead, but the shadow behind him would make it morning or evening.”

“Which one?”

“How am I meant to know?” She frowned at him, seeing he wasn’t looking at the painting at all, actually playing with a little box. “Maybe morning.”

“So, you are looking at a man who is reaching for the Sceptre in the past and present, seeing everything at once.”

“I suppose so. What does that have to do with the box you’re messing with?”

“Who painted it?” Crow asked. “Ghastly, get over here.”

“There’s a crest. Leopard and crossed swords,” she said.

He lifted the box and showed them the same crest. “Whoever, family or individual, made that painting, also made this Puzzle Box. People like to put things in Puzzle Boxes that might help us in our quest for information. It’s another clue, Stephanie.”

He played with it a little more and then rested it flat on his palm. It clicked and there was a high pitch motorising sound before the top opened and they saw a little blue stone inside.