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witchcraftandgeeknes · 11 months ago

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Gift

Just a silly little fluffy story, Mikaelsons celebrating winter holiday. As I don't celebrate Christmas and it's way too late for it anyway, it's not specified which holiday it takes place in. You can think of whichever you celebrate yourself.

Dedicated to: @fitzs-trained-monkey who persuaded me to post it despite this fic being silly and my English being bad. Love you, marshmallow

Word count: 1900 approximately

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Elijah rarely received any gifts.

This might be connected to complicated family bonds, or maybe to the fact that mostly his family was separated by a cold steel of a dagger plunged in someone's chest or their father making them fly in separate ways to avoid him catching any of them. Because of the latter, infinity of things that were precious to their hearts were indiscriminately left in the race against Mikael: their beloved ones, favourite places in the world, many houses they were foolish enough to declare their permanent homes, and tremendous amount of belongings that limited time or need made them leave behind.

That way or another, Elijah rarely received gifts from anyone, including his siblings. But when he did, Elijah treasured each and every of small mementos in his heart if he cannot garner all of them in his current adobe. The most rare name on the gift boxes Elijah saw was Kol's.

To say that they didn't see eye to eye on thing would be an understatement of a century. Kol was vicious and was fond of all the nefarious activities that repelled Elijah. Despite everything, Elijah loved Kol, and small signs of his little brother's affection were just as dear to his heart as ones from Niklaus or Rebekah.

Nevertheless, Elijah must admit that the gift was quite... puzzling, to put it best. It was not like Kol completely missed with his guess, Elijah always adored a pristine atlas tie as a gift but.. The colours.

Indeed, the colours were of quite peculiar choice. His newest tie was made of excellent quality and smooth texture, but the black-and-yellow stripes.... Though Kol's everyday attire was much different from Elijah's, the youngest Mikaelson's sense of fashion was never questioned. Keeping that in mind, it was hard to explain how on Earth he might have chose such a tie to give as a genuine present.

Maybe Kol's mischievous nature is involved in this case, or perhaps a huge difference in their styles. Whichever it is, Elijah could not hurt his brother's feelings. Absolutely not and especially not now, when their home finally finessed the most cordial atmosphere in many centuries. Obviously, this... tie is not to be worn on an official visit or in a wide public. Home celebrations in a close family circle, on the other hand, Elijah could bear. Even such a bright, bright yellow tie with evidently contrasting ink-black stripes.

He and Kol had reached temporal understanding and there is no saying how long peace will last, and as long as it does, Elijah shall do anything to keep it this way. Even if that means to step on the common fashion senses. After all, it is without a doubt not the worst thing he had to endure for the sake of his siblings` wellbeing. Elijah had to admit, that even so odd, the gift elated him.

***

*an hour earlier*

Kol loves Harry Potter books. Reading them made him feel a very special kind of way – as if for a few hours of devoted reading he traveled back in time, to the period of it that he was still alive and human and full of mischievous energy that danced in his veins, asking for permission to break free and promising a lot of fun.

And when Klaus announced that they will all together celebrate impending winter holiday, Kol decided to choose the gifts for that day based on his own little obsession. Why the hell not? Klaus gave them all a lot of art throughout their lives, ignoring the fact that Kol, for example, could not care less about anything connected to it.

Regardless of his reasoning, Kol heard they say that it's the attention that matters, and not the gift itself. If that's true, it means that Kol's choice was splendid. Or at least so he thought.

As an official expert on this matter, Kol was the only one capable of sorting his dear relatives into their respective houses of Hogwarts school. That was probably stupid, Kol knew that. But these silly decisions he took with whole seriousness he could muster.

Klaus, undoubtedly, was the one hell of a Slytherin. Kol doubted any explanation was required for this choice, but if one would need it, he contemplated it with all details elaborated in this mental essay (deep down, he actually wished that someone would ask and he would get to explain his decision, even thought it's unlikely). Therefore, Kol packed a pair of green socks with a prominent snake emblem for dearly beloved Nik, and attached short note that conveyed his hopes that dear brother will abstain from chewing his gift during full moons – Kol wrote this with a huge grin. One day he will pay for all those dog jokes. Today is not this day. Kol was fairly sure that killing (or daggering, for that matter) family members is officially against holiday traditions.

For Rebekah, his favourite sibling, and his fellow fan of magical world, Kol prepared the whole suit of Gryffindor uniform. Her warm smile and hug and possibly a thank-you kiss planted on his cheek will be worth all the collecting and packing he went through for this.

Elijah was the hardest one. Firstly, Kol was postponing choosing the gift for Elijah till last moment, and when he finally did select Elijah in his corresponding Hogwarts house (Hufflepuff, as Kol deduced), packed it in a box and wrapped it in a paper decorated with images of dozens Rudolfs, he couldn't bring himself to actually put it under a tree like all the other gifts.

It was silly, after all. And Elijah never approves of silly things. The elder brother was always dead serious and restrained, the perfect image of the head of the family. More of a father figure than a sibling like Nik and Bekah. And while Kol could act silly and joke around with the latter, Elijah seemed unaffected by their ideas of fun.

But what's the alternative, anyway? Thanks to procrastinating, it's the big day today, and there's literally no time to think of something more serious or appropriate. Damn it.

It seems like he has to do it no matter how ludicrous this gift is.

To avoid embarrassment, Kol decided to put the gift box near Elijah's bedroom door. At least this way he doesn't have to witness big brother's dissapointment. Again. Nevermind. What happens happens. It's too late to change his mind.

Kol rushed away to avoid getting caught as if he did something wrong. Perhaps the life of mischiefmaker made him a bit paranoied. Like Nik. What a nightmare.

***

*later*

Kol has to say. The only reason he let Rebekah do this to him was a bribe. The bribe was a box full of chocolate and other candies. At least, it was good enough of a reason at first thought. Kol now doubts his decision. Perhaps it was a bad impulse.

"Ouch!"

"Hush, sit still," Rebekah hisses at him from the couch while braiding his hair in tenth tiny braid. Kol shifted at her legs unhappily and pouting.

Klaus tried to muffle his cackling but failed miserably.

"You never looked better in your life, Kol."

Kol sent the remote control flying across the room and it hit Nik in the forehead.

"HEY!"

"At least I don't have a stupid ass sweater with chihuahua!"

Klaus blushed, embarassed. The poor idiot lost a bet with Rebekah (and to place bets with Rebekah was always rather risky activity) and was forced into this sweater. Maybe Kol won't be the number one target for dog jokes as soon as holiday is over after all.

"Shut up, both of you," their sister chided and tugged Kol's hair especially roughly. If that's what she had to endure each day Mother was braiding her hair then maybe he was too harsh on her all that time.

Kol relaxed and pressed his back to her legs, surrendering to his cruel fate. Until...

"Well, at least it's not as dumb as your Ravenclaw sweater," Klaus said, a minute too late with his comeback.

"You take that bac– AW, BEKAH!" Sister dearest hit him with the Dickens book across his head when Kol abruptly tried to stand up. "That was uncalled for!"

"I told you to sit still," she said, tugging him down on the floor by the hem of his beautiful Ravenclaw sweater. "And I told you to shut up, Nik. Elijah! Tell them!"

To the brothers' surprise, Elijah chuckled from the threshold. Neither of them noticed how the eldest brother entered. He was in his suit, like always. Kol resumed to his place on the floor and let Rebekah continue her work.

"Gentlemen, behave," Elijah commanded and made his way to the table and took one mandarin.

"Can you be nice to each other at least at a family holiday, mhm?" Elijah didn't stop berating them even as he proceed to peel mandarin. "You look wonderful today, Rebekah."

"Thank you, 'Lijah!"

He was right, Rebekah looked like she's posing for the holiday edition of some fashionable magazine. What can't be said about Klaus and Kol himself.

"Why, brother, you look quite dashing yourself. Where did you get your tie, on a masquarade?" Klaus laughed. Kol looked up at Elijah. He didn't notice at first, but Elijah wore his gift. The Hufflepuff tie looked out of place on Elijah, like Kol predicted. His stomach sank.

"Thank you for your insight, Niklaus," Elijah said, glaring at the middle brother sternly. Then he looked down, and straightened his already perfectly fastened tie. "In fact, I quite like your gift, Kol. It's probably my favourite this year."

Kol felt his cheeks getting hot. He rarely heard nice words from his family and it felt... very strange but he loved the feeling.

"Really?" Kol muttered under his breath. Elijah smiled at him.

"Of course. Thank you for this, I'll wear it whenever an opportunity presents itself, like today. Now, does anybody want hot chocolate?"

Kol and Rebekah didn't let him finish the sentence and agreed immeadiately and loudly, and when Elijah matter-of-factly asked if Klaus wants a cup too, the hybrid rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, he didn't refuse the offer either.

"He looks stupid though," Klaus whispered quitely so Elijah's ear won't catch it but loud enough for his younger siblings to hear. Kol snorted. Klaus was petty and didn't like the fact that Elijah scolded him but complimented Kol's gift.

He didn't notice how Rebekah finished braiding his hair – Kol couldn't imagine how much he looked like a hedgehog right now – and suddenly leaned down and hugged Kol by his neck.

"You're the best brother, Kol. You're my favourite, you know."

"You tell that to each of us, don't you?" Kol rolled his eyes but couldn't stop a smile spreading across his face. He loved his family with all his heart. Even grumpy Nik. The idea of being his only sister's favourite brother was quite amusing too.

From the kitchen Elijah announced that their hot chocolate with marshmallows is ready and waiting for them.

Rebekah was the first to get on her feet.

"Race you!" and just like that, Rebekah sped up towards kitchen. Kol and Klaus didn't have to be asked twice and they swiftly followed her.

From the kitchen, Elijah's voice could be heard: "Oh come on, you all, how old are you, ten?"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

You made it that far? Good job, I guess

#kol mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the originals fanfiction #i guess??#tvd #tvdu #mikaelson nonsense #my first fic in english

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ichooseviolence · 1 year ago

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I've been mulling over the idea of Sansa or Tyrion, or both, seeking out an annulment. Many people brush it aside and assume it's impossible or simply too difficult. I'm the silly, goofy type of person who believes there is a possibility. It would, of course, be very challenging at this point in the story, which is why I think it is possible in the future. A shift in power could make a difference. But I'm interested in your thoughts here.

According to GRRM, neither Tyrion nor Sansa would need to be present to annul their marriage, but at least one must request it. Unless Tyrion manages to find out and somehow objects, Sansa shouldn't be faced with too many challenges (under normal circumstances, of course). Of course, the more power and influence you have, the easier it will be. With the aid of Littlefinger, or anyone else with more influence, it just might be possible. Depending on who is acting High Septon, bribery would be an option. Although, as of now, Littlefinger shows no interest in going for an annulment and for sound reasons. As long as the Lannisters are still in power, Sansa will remain a wanted fugitive. So for now, he's relying on the death of Tyrion (so he says.)

Reasons for annulments:

Non-consummation

Marriage was forced

Crazy scenario where Tysha is alive and makes an appearance, and the "annulment" made by Tywin is proven to have not been legal. (Thought it was crazy at first, but someone explained to me why this would be a very real possibility, given the writing style of George.)

I'll say now, I think #2 could possibly be turned down by The High Septon or Council (even though it would require basic common sense to understand she was forced), and #3 would only be plausible if the Tysha theory were true. Obviously, the first option is our greatest one.

Non-consummated marriages that were dissolved/annulled:

Lancel and Amerei: Lancel joins the Warrior's Sons

Baelor and Daena

(am I forgetting any?)

Non-consummation is the main factor of their annulment. Of course, we all know that Tyrion and Sansa never consummated their marriage, and it was becoming common knowledge throughout the Red Keep. Proof of non-consummation is never suggested or hinted at. I would be surprised if a request for annulment was dismissed simply because a maiden's hymen is no longer intact, especially if she is not required to be present. I assume even Septons would be aware that a hymen could break from other activities, however difficult it may be. Basically, I think they would need more confirmation than that to rule it out. Note that non-consummation may not be the only ground for an annulment.

Let's take into account that even consummated marriages have either been annulled or requested an annulment:

Tyrion and Tysha: annulled by Tywin, and against either of their wills

Daemon and Rhea: Turned down by the king, Daemon banished by Viserys

Duncan and Jenny: requested by Aegon V, Duncan is forced to abdicate

Renly plotting an annulment between Cersei and Robert

Some of these examples prove that power and influence don't always work out for an annulment. As for Littlefinger's plans, I once saw a theory stating that Littlefinger may be planning to have to local religious authorities of the Vale declare Sansa as she was before her marriage to Tyrion, a maiden fit for marriage. (When the time is right, of course.) How feasible is this plan? There are other options, of course. Is LF really waiting around for Tyrion to die, is he truly intending for Sansa to marry Harry, or is their betrothal all he really needs before his ultimate plans fall into place?

A few more questions, if you're interested in expanding the discussion.

Will Sansa and Tyrion end the series a married couple?

Will they end the series married but separated?

Will one of them be widowed? (Who do you think will live?)

Will they eventually get an annulment?

#sansa stark

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lilacella · 4 months ago

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So this will start out a little spooky and graphic but then it's mostly lighthearted fluff and comic relief so if you're not in the mood for the former scroll past the orange **.

I am aware that Booktok werewolf fiction probably wasn't a thing in the 90s so just imagine the timeline pushed into the future.

Also, Sirius is a dramatic hero again in the first part so...I would say I'm sorry but I have no regrets

This is NOT the last chapter. I know, I said there would be 10 but there will be one more after this.

Nightsky

Chapter 10: In sickness and In health

First Previous Next

It was the summer after Harry's 4th year in

Hogwarts. Sirius and Remus had spent almost the entire day at the Potters backyard, chatting and eating and enjoying the sun. But now it had started to rain and the sun was setting so they had gone in, sharing one last drink in the living room. Harry had been out of the house all day, meeting his friends, had only recently returned and was now ransacking the kitchen for a snack.

"Didn't you eat dinner at the Weasleys?" Lily called to him.

"Yes but I'm still hungry!"

Lily shook her head.

"How can he eat so much and still be so skinny?"

"He's a teenager, Honey. He invests it all into growing upwards." James smiled over his drink.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Who could that be at this time?

"I'll go!" Harry called and they heard his footsteps in the hallway. Sirius frowned.

"Are you expecting anyone?"

James and Lily shook their heads and James peered towards the entrance door.

They heard a low voice but Sirius couldn't make out what it said.

"Oh, sure of course. Step in, I'll get my..."

James suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Harry, no!"

The lights went off and an eerie silence surrounded them, only interrupted by the front door slamming shut with a bang. Sirius blood ran cold. The rain. The darkness. A stranger by the door.

When late at night with pouring rain

A stranger asks to be let in

Don't be friendly, don't be polite

Close the door, and run and hide.

A fucking wraith. They only had seconds.

Sirius quickly got up and drew his wand, going to get Harry but James had already run past him and hastily dragged his son into the living room. His face was a ghostly white in the darkness.

"Get Harry out the chimney," he told Sirius. "Quickly."

Sirius nodded.

"Get in the fireplace." He turned to the others. "Hold onto each other. Don't let go! And dull all the surfaces!"

"What is going on?" Harry asked with a trembling voice. "Where's the old lady? She just disappeared!"

"That wasn't a lady. That was a wraith. Harry, listen to me carefully!" Sirius put his hands on Harry's shoulders, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible while at the same time being quick and precise. Time was sparse. "I will send you through the chimney. It's the only way out but it will collapse after I sent you through. You will probably end up in the backyard. Call the knight bus. Let it take you to the Cursbreaker Quarters. Tell them there is an active wraith. Tell them the adress. Tell them there's people still alive. Now go, in there. Hold your arms up."

Harry looked frightened but followed Sirius' directions. He threw one last fearful look over to his mother, searchingfor reassurance. Then Sirius' spell dragged him upwards trough the chimney. Bricks crashed into the fireplace as it collapsed. Sirius let out a breath. At least Harry was safe. He saw a shadow lurking at the doorway. Then everything went really fast.

The wraith lunged forward. Its twisted limbs flailing around as it shot towards Sirius at a terrifying speed. He barely managed to dodge out of its way but in the next moment, he heard a high pitched scream.

"James!"

Sirius shook his hair out of his face only to see how James was dragged to the ceiling, flying around like a puppet. A precisely shot spell hit the deformed figure, causing it to shriek in anger and drop James. James hit the floor with a loud thump. He felt sick.

Lily and Remus immediately rushed to check on James and Merlin, did Sirius want to do the same, but the wraith was still hanging on the ceiling above them, just waiting for the right moment to strike again. Sirius pointed his wand at it in warning, knowing that there wasn't much he could do. Their chances to survive this were slim, the statistics were pretty clear: Only 2% of victims survived the first thirty minutes in a wraith house. 0% for Muggles. But they weren't just people. James and Lily were capable Aurors and he was a cursebreaker. This wasn't the first wraith he saw eye to eye to. But usually, wraithes were a five people job. And he was alone.

He shot a look over to the others. Remus and Lily tried to wake up James but he seemed knocked out. And by the way Lily was crying and the bloody spot on the ceiling, Sirius could imagine what his face looked like. He swallowed hard. It was way more difficult to remain focused when your own loved ones were on the line.

"Try to get underneath something. A table maybe!"

While he tried to stay in between the wraith and the group, the others dragged James towards the kitchen door. Sirius didn't think about it until it was to late. Lily screamed again. But this time not in fear, but in pain. The wraith vanished from the ceiling like a fleeting shadow. Sirius spun around only to see how she dropped James, her right forearm twisted by 180 degees.

"Get down, out of the kitchen!" He yelled in a panic.

There were a few rules regarding wraiths, that had been hammered into their heads during training. One of them was: Never go into the kitchen. There were just too many reflective surfaces.

The wraith, once in the house, took over all mirrors. If you were reflecting in anything, the wraith could control you and bend and break your body at its will. That was how most people died.

Remus dragged Jamed back into the living room by his feet, cowering next to the couch. Lily didn't move. Sirius could see how her head slowly turned, inch by inch. She had been trapped. The wraith was trying to break her neck.

Sirius stormed towards the kitchen and threw dulling spells at everything he could see, yelling at Remus to help him. Remus appeared next to him and finally, with a pained moan, Lilys head snapped back forward and she slumped to the ground.

"Fuck! Get back to James. I'll take Lily," Sirius commanded and helped the half conscious Lily over to the couch. Remus looked terrified, clasping his wand tightly.

"Is there nothing we can do? It's going to come back here!"

"It will. I will try a ban circle but I don't know if it will hold up long enough."

Sirius crawled over to the fireplace and picked up a piece of coal, trying to find a good place on the floor to draw the circle. He had just begun with the banning symbols when a greyish arm reached over the couch, grabbed Remus by the neck and roughly pulled him away, out into the hallway. Sirius put the coal into Lilys left hand, hoping that she'd be able to finish the ban without him and ran.

It had Remus. Not Remus! Please, not Remus. The horror spread through Sirius body like icy water. If he lost Remus... He shook his head violently to drive away the thoughts and stormed after the wraith and Remus' screams.

The wraith had dragged Remus down the stairs to the basement. The door had slammed shut and wouldn't budge. Again, Sirius found himself separated from Remus - Remus who needed him desperately - by a bloody door! He didn't think much about it and made a radical decision.

"Bombada!"

The explosion ripped out the offending piece of wood and the adjoining wall, splinters and chipped stone flying around, hitting him in the face. Sirius didn't care and hastily climed trough the hole.

"Remus!" He yelled, terrified of what he would find downstairs.

At first, he could see nothing. Only hear: a rythmic thumping sound coming from one direction, which he followed. He reluctantly conjured a Lumos, unsure if he wanted to see what was in front of him. When the light appeared, the thumping stopped abruptly.

Sirius stomach turned. Before him, Remus was lying on the floor, his face covered in blood, his nose broken and crushed at a nauseating angle. The wraith had apparently smashed his head against the wall, repeatedly. That must have been the sound he'd heard. Sirius pulled himself together, but just when he wanted to kneel down next to Remus, his husband slowly blinked at him and then averted his gaze to something above his head.

Sirius didn't have time to react before the wraith landed on his head, long cold limbs wrapping around him, squeezing like a vice, threatening to crush his skull. He could feel his jaw snapping out of it's joint and his cheekbones breaking. Yet all he could think about was Remus. If he died right now, so would Remus. Maybe James and Lily would make it, if they got the ban circle right and help showed up in time. But Remus would die. He would die and he would die in pain and Sirius could not let that happen.

He blindly pointed his wand upwards, the wraith immediately grabbed his arm but he managed to hit it anyways. His head was brutally torn backwards, together with the wraiths body and he slammed on the basement floor. He hastily shot spells at the writhing figure in quick succession until it trampled up the stairs, retreating.

Sirius sat on the ground, panting. Blood was pooling in his mouth, his head was throbbing and he could barely see through the veil of pain.

"Sirius? Are you hurt?" Remus voice sounded weak and and nasal.

Sirius could only groan. He couldn't speak. Remus couldn't see this. Don't look at me. He gestured towards the stairs, keeping his head turned away from Remus.

"What is wrong? Are you alright?" Remus came crawling towards him. Sirius shoved him roughly to the side and pointed at the stairs again.

"Sirius..." Sirius grabbed his husband and quickly spun him, so he was now behind Remus back, pushing him up the stairs with shaking legs.

They stumbled out of the hole, back into the hallway. When they made their way towards the livinc room, Sirius heard a sound, coming from behind them. He pushed Remus further towards the door - where he was hoped, safety would await - and turned to face the creature that was thrashing towards him.

He only had a split second to decide what to do. A regular stun spell would drive it back but then it might target the others instead. He had to stop this thing. Binding a wraith technically required four people, one on each side. But this time he would have to do.

He aimed and hit, a powerful surge of magic rushing through his arm through his wand. Thin tendrils of light wrapped around the wraith and held it in place. The creature shrieked and struggled and Sirius felt the tearing in his arm. He wouldn't be able to hold it for long.

Remus cowered next to James and Lily in the darkness, eyes fixed anxiously at the door leading to the hallway where Sirius was fighting with the wraith. Remus knew Sirius was hurt. He hadn't been able to see the full extent of his injuries but he had heard the noise...

A loud, wall shaking bang sounded through the house, accompanied with a sizzeling flash, shining through the doorframe.

"What was that?" Lily hissed.

In the next moment, the wraith crawled trough the door, speeding towards them again. It crashed against the ban circle and recoiled in anger.

In the next second, the front door burst open and they heard a loud voice, yelling commands. Help had come. They had made it.

Remus followed the healer into the room. His face was still hurting a little but his broken nose was already healing, thanks to the tending of the healers - and his lycanthropy. A rare upside of his condition. But he barely felt his own pain as he stepped to Sirius' bedside and looked at his mangled body.

He was alive. That had been the biggest relief, after James, Lily and he had been guarded out of the house into the rain. Half of Sirius face was wrapped in bandages and so were his right hand and arm. His broken wand was laying on his bedside table.

Split lengthwise, almost all the way through. Remus remembered the grave words of the cursebreakers, as they had carried Sirius past him. Recoil injury.

Recoils were one of the nastiest side effects you could get from magical misuse. They only occured when extremely strong magic either hit an impenetrable barrier and was thrown back or when the conjured magic was overloading the wand. Usually the latter could be easily avoided, since there were telltale signs before a wand broke from too strong magic, giving you sufficient time to abort the casting. But Sirius hadn't stopped. He must have casted something and held it, even as his wand started to vibrate and crack, menacingly. He must have known this would happen. Remus of course knew, why.

He gingerly traced his fingers over Sirius shoulder, terrified of hurting him, eventhough he was still unconscious.

"When will he wake up?" He asked, turned to the healer.

"I can't say. He might wake in a few days, he might wake in a month. But he will wake. I assure you."

Sirius woke up on the following day. But Remus somehow wished he didn't. Because when Sirius woke up, he was in agony. He could barely move or talk. It took weeks until Remus could finally take him home.

"When can I use my hand again," Sirius asked lowly, sitting on the bedside, rubbing the gnarly scar on the palm of his hand. The recoil had split his hand down the middle, the tears reaching up his arm almost to his elbow.

"You can try, once you've got a new wand. But keep in mind, that your magic might need a bit to fully come back."

Remus nodded, at the words of the healer. He had spent a lot of time in the past weeks to search every medical volume he could find for information about recoil injuries. He wanted to be prepared to take good care of Sirius, the way he had always taken care of him after the moons.

Sirius frowned deeply. "I know." He looked up to Remus, Remus eyes inadvertently got drawn to the thick scar on his face, reaching from his forehead, through his eyebrow, barely past his eye over this lips. Somehow, he still looked perfect to him. Remus offered his hand, helping Sirius up.

"You want to get one right now?" Remus wasn't sure this was the best idea. But Sirius was determined to go to Ollivanders' straight away.

"I need a wand. I have had a wand since I was three! I will not go another day without one!"

"Right, of course love. But we'll go home after that straight away."

They entered the shop, setting off the tingling of the door bell.

"Good morning," Remus called into the empty shop room and Mr. Ollivander appeared abruptly from behind a shelf.

"Morning. What can I do for you?"

"I need a new wand," Sirius said and put the remnants of his last one on the counter.

Mr. Ollivander gasped in shock.

"What did you do with this one?!"

"Recoil."

Mr. Ollivander glanced at Sirius hand and then nodded, slowly, still seemingly shocked. He took off to the back, inspecting the wand, mumbling to himself.

"Dragonheart string and English Oak, interesting combination..."

Sirius impatiently tapped his fingers on the counter while bouncing his knee. Remus put a calming hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Sirius looked over, caught, and stopped, leaning slightly against Remus instead.

"It won't, work, why won't it work," Sirius yelled in frustration, throwing his wand onto the table and angrily shook out his trembling hand.

"Sirius," Remus hurried towards him, wrapping him in his arms. "Give it some time, love. It's only been a few days. Your magic will come back!"

"But I can do nothing! Not even a small Lumos! I can't even turn into Padfoot!" Sirius sobbed into Remus shoulder. His sudden inability to use magic was affecting him greatly. Remus had feared for this, as soon as he had read that that could happen. Sirius, the one who had already effortlessly mastered 5th grade spells in first year, without any magic just seemed unthinkable.

"What are we gonna do at the moon? Fuck, I...I'm sorry, Moony..."

Remus pulled Sirius off his shoulder and cupped his face in his hands.

"Don't worry about that! I've got the wolfsbane, I'll be just fine. You need to focus on yourself. Don't put so much pressure on yourself. Maybe you should just leave the wand alone for a couple of days."

Sirius didn't seem convinced and pulled a face like a sullen child. Remus kissed his cheek.

"You will be okay, love."

Sirius was sitting on the couch, staring grumpily out of the window. It had been sixteen weeks since his injury, Harry had long returned to Hogwarts, but Sirius magic still wasn't working. They had went back to St. Mungo's but the Healer had just told them to wait. That it would eventually come back, but there was no way of telling when. Sirius really hadn't liked that answer. In addition to that came the nightmares. They both regularly dreamt of the events of that fateful night. The bloodied faces and screams of their loved ones. There had been weeks where Sirius had woken up every single night, barely being able to go back to sleep with Sleeping Draught and Remus holding him tightly, because he kept seeing things in the shadows of their bedroom. Sirius mood had deteriorated quickly. He lashed out more easily and seemed to have lost interest in pretty much everything.

So when Remus approached him now, he did so with caution:

"Do you want to go on a walk? The weather is quite nice today?

"No Remus, I do not want to go on a stupid walk! Why would I want to do that? To remind me that I can no longer turn into a dog? That I can't conjure an umbrella in case it rains?"

"We could take an umbrella with..."

"NO! I don't want to go on a fucking walk! I'm not that old that that's all I want to do!"

"So what do you want to do?" Remus asked gently, hoping to diffuse the situation.

"I want to use my bloody wand, that's what I want to do! Now do me a favour and stop asking me stupid questions!" Sirius snarled and turned back to the window.

Remus sighed.

"Don't leave it out on me."

He got up but suddenly felt Sirius' hand on his, stopping him.

"Remus...I'm sorry," Sirius said in a small voice. His expression had softened. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm sorry...I know it's not your fault."

Remus sank back into the seat. Sirius leaned onto him.

"It is just such a weird feeling and I...It scares me. I feel so...powerless. And I just don't know what to do with myself. I can't work and everything I liked to do involved magic. Or magic was what made it fun."

"So no more hikes?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But when we go out I feel like people stare at me." Sirius pointed at his scarred face. Remus smirked.

"People have always stared at you."

Sirius rolled his eyes, fondly.

"Well but now I notice it."

"I could glare at them for you," Remus offered galantly. Sirius laughed.

"My glare is more effective than yours and you know that."

"Then we'll both glare at them. That should scare them off." He pressed a kiss against Sirius temple. Sirius giggled and leaned back against Remus chest while tenderly playing with his fingers. He turned his head lightly.

"I love you, Remus."

"I love you too, Sirius."

"This will cheer you up, I am so sure," Lily said gleefully while handing Sirius his christmas present. They all had done what they could to lighten Sirius mood and Lily had suggested - after Sirius had complained that he couldn't even read because all the books about wizards or magic made him more depressed - that he could try Muggle fiction. Since then, Sirius had made his way through a bunch of famous authors:

Orwell (made him very angry and also very confused about muggle technology), Jane Austen (to many fancy people), Kafka ("Doesn't this man want to find out who turned him into a bug? That would be my first concern"), Tolkien (tricky territory because of Gandalf, but overall a success) and recently Agatha Christie which he loved, to everyones surprise("Ms Marple is just such a lovely lady. I'd love to tag along with her."). But now, Lily had claimed that she had found the perfect genre to keep Sirius entertained.

Remus and James watched intently, as Sirius unwrapped the book and then inspected it with raised eyebrows.

" 'Ravaged by the Wolf?' What the fuck is this? And why is the dude on the cover undressed?"

Remus snatched the book from Sirius hands.

"Erotic werewolf fiction? Lily are you serious?"

Lily laughed like a maniac.

"No, but he is."

Sirius groaned and James cackled.

"Good one, honey."

"This is great. You will love it. Basically describes your life." Lily trailed off into a giggle.

Sirius spent the entire next day snort-laughing about the accursed book, reading the defenseless Remus passages from it.

" 'Alpha Matthew pinned my wrists against the walls, rendering me motionless. <<Know your place, pup.>> he growled lowly into my ear. I could feel my arousal...' "

"Stooop! Please, I'm begging you, this is unendurable!" Remus covered his ears in desperation. Sirius laughed.

"But don't you want to hear what Alpha Matthew does to her? I mean they are 'mates' after all! Don't you want to know what mates do? So you can do it to me?" He smirked suggestively and then burst back into laughter as he saw Remus running his hands over his blushing face.

"I can't believe you've put up with my behaviour so far," Sirius mocked further. "I should have been calling you Alpha Remus this whole time! I apologize profusely!"

Remus groaned in annoyance.

"I don't think I would be an Alpha. Didn't you say they have ranks?"

"Yes, but you'd definitely be a 'top wolf'. You've got the spirit for it!"

"I am taking this as an insult, since you've so far only made snide remarks about all of these people!"

Sirius chuckled.

"But never about you. See, we share a special kind of bond. Since we're mates and all..."

"Siriuuuuss!"

"Nooo not this guy, he's ugly!" Sirius yelled at the TV Lily had gifted them, judging the choices of the young charming lady looking for love in a questionable muggle format. Remus was glad, that Sirius had found something to keep occupied but while he did find Sirius commentary entertaining, he couldn't quite get behind the shows himself. He still watched them with Sirius, since it gave them more cuddle time.

He turned to his husband, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth and asked:

"I'm ugly. Would you not have chosen me, if we'd been on a format like this?"

Sirius gave him an irritated look.

"You know I don't care about things like that. And you are not ugly! Stop saying that. Anyone that calls my husband ugly, catches hands and I really don't want to hit you."

Remus grinned but insisted.

"But you just called that guy ugly, so you must care a little bit."

"I care because he is simultaneously a douchebag! Ugly inside and out. This man should have no game at all! Really, this woman needs to raise her standards before someone steps on them!"

Remus snorted and almost choked on his popcorn. Sirius was really a force to be reckoned with, even without magic.

Winter and spring had passed in a blur and summertime was gracing them with the first thick heat of the year. The kind that rendered you tired and sluggish. Remus was sitting on the couch, Sirius' head in his lap, watching the latest episode of their favourite home make-over show, windows wide open to at least attempt to let in some fresh air.

" 's so ugly. If someone did this to my house I'd hex them," Sirius murmured sleepily. Remus smiled down at him.

"Don't you like animal print?"

"Not in this extent."

Remus dug his fingers deeper in Sirius hair, massaging his scalp with his fingers. Sirius sighed with enjoymen, then turned his head so Remus would gently scratch under his chin. Remus chest filled with warmth and he chuckled.

"You really are like a dog sometimes."

"Be careful, I might turn into one," Sirius responded and, without warning, suddenly did.

Remus stared. Padfoot stared back. Then he barked, experimentally.

"You...you turned!" Remus exclaimed in excitement.

Padfoot rolled of the couch, examined his paws and then set off zomming through the house. Remus looked after him fondly. It had come back. Of course it had.

#sirius black #mwpp #marauders #remus lupin #wolfstar #nightsky fic #sirius x remus #Spotify

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opinated-user · 2 years ago

Note

Not trying to defend Rowling or Snape, but I do think it should be said that Rowling has outright stated that Snape isn't really a good person on a personal level. But that he was also instrumental in stopping Voldemort personally regardless, and it seems to me (after digging out my ancient copies of the books) that he didn't really buy into the whole "wizard superiority" nonsense for too long, but by the time he realized it wasn't really what he wanted it was far too late to just not be a part of it without risking his own life.

And he still did go out of his way to go against them, even after Lily died. I think he probably would have gone against them just as fiercely if Neville had been the chosen one, if only out of revenge and penance for what happened to her (which he was partially responsible for).

The situation in the books at least actually rather parallels indoctrination of minors into these supremacist groups IRL; Snape only got into it because he was a social outcast and was easily convinced because he was constantly mistreated by his peers. Ironically, he was a half-blood wizard himself. They only had him join their ranks because he was really good at making potions and had the ire for others necessary to use dark magic.

I need to clarify again, I'm not really a fan of Snape period, but Lily once again misses the entire point of him. She sounds like one of the mega Snape fangirls from back in the day.

If she wants him to be a better person, she could probably do it without downplaying the shit he was involved with.

"if only out of revenge and penance for what happened to her (which he was partially responsible for)."

that part right there is why i have a problem with how snap was written. if the only scenario where you can imagine him changing sides and actively working to try to take down magic fascist leader is one where his love interest gets punished for it, then i can't really believe that he has any real convictions of his own. if harry's mom was never affected by the war, if she got to live a long and normal life with her family, would snape still change? or he would stay there where just has to do enough to keep himself alive? because what is me, i can't picture him doing anything like that.

about rowing herself and her words... those words really don't mean much when she was the one who decided to immortalize snape as the "bravest man i have known" by naming one of harry's child as him. this is the biggest point of conflict in the fandom regarding snape that i have seen. that on one hand rowing tell us that he is not that good of a person and was flawed, but at the same time fully endorse snape being rewarded even better than many other characters who were never nazis, never abused any children and were also fundamental during the war.

when in text all he did was not say a slur after his love interest says it was a bad word and tell harry his life story at the last second. he never had to make amends, he never had to show anyone his change, he never had to compensate for the harm he had done. he just dies. on itself this is fine but it's ruined by the ending. i don't mind snape existing by himself, but he did not deserve that kind of tribute to be part of the last words we'd ever see about the story. for a better example of someone who is not a perfectly good person, but does tries to do good and legitimately tries to do better because they believe is the right thing, sirius black was right there. he was full of flaws and he still tried, for better or for worse, not because of someone but because that's what he believed.

i can see why people like him and i might even understand why LO does too. but the fact remains that he wasn't just a good or bad guy, that he could have been written better, and you need to talk about all of his facets, including the magic nazism and abusive tendencies, instead of pretending they weren't a big deal or don't exist at all, if you even attempt to look at this franchise critically.

#lily orchard

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yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit · 6 months ago

Text

I mean, on the note of fanfiction, the problem isn't the fanfiction itself or that you can vindictively write over the parts that are bad or "show her up" in a sense by writing something better,

The problem comes in that the more people indulge in that universe, the more fan content there is to keep feeding their fandom or fixation, the more -most- of those people will go on to do or buy things that DO give Rowling money, unfortunately fan content is the lifeblood of a series popularity after it's all been out out in the world, and so creating fan content feeds her ongoing profit from the series by keeping the fan community alive.

I don't think someone queer or autistic or both trying to reclaim something away from her after she ruined something they loved should make them public enemy number one or anything, but I would STRONGLY ENCOURAGE them to take the base premise of "magical school" and just write their own universe.

If you are writing it like fic and publishing it for free, you can rip off whatever you want, really, but I would suggest looking into why a lot of the stuff in her books is considered racist and bad first, and just inventing your own shit to be however you want it instead.

The bonus thing is that no one has a copyright on "magical school" and Rowling was definitely not the first even from what I saw on TV as a kid... So if you write something you really like, you could actually just publish it eventually and maybe make money.

You can always make your own characters that had the traits you like out of other characters you know, but make them even more to your liking or make them to have quirks and backstories that better fit the themes you personally like working with.

@ferrousferrule,

The problem is these people are all generally young and online enough to know better. You can't be as steeped in nerd culture as these people are and not have seen it by now.

I don't expect everyone offline to know, especially if they aren't queer, but when you start getting into diy and crafting channels that just sit there and make nerd culture things all day, but still do something like a clickbait title saying they "destroyed their harry potter books" only to turn around and re-bind them or make art on them... Like that bitch knows the discourse, or someone who still runs in nerd circles but identifies so proactively as a hufflepuff without being prompted that there is NO WAY IN HELL someone hasn't told them by now.

They know, and if they don't know it's because they are intentionally turning away, there are blocked and deleted comments on the relevant videos... And then someone I was sure was above pulling that shit will say something like "ooh we'd love to collab with them XD" ... and you're just like... "Would you though?" And you have to play this game of guessing "is this just general professional etiquette or do they actually want to work with this person who actively ignores people trying to tell them what's wrong with still making harry potter content?"

So many youtubers want to play off what's popular and just gloss over anyone pointing out there's a problem with it, and so many others are using it as a subtle way to express they support TERFs without losing their audience, and it's getting impossible to tell them apart, and even more so to tell that from someone who just genuinely has no social media and never reads any of their comments. It's basically a dogwhistle that's popular enough people can still claim ignorance about it and play both sides to grow their audience and I do not care for it.

I would be a lot more comfortable if instead youtubers made active statements that they don't support JKR and then stopped mentioning HP or doing harry potter themed art projects, instead of this avoiding the subject or playing the sides to not lose popularity bullshit.

the thing that sucks most about Joanne Rowling being a terf is that she is actively hurting real life trans people every day.

the second worst thing about joanne being a terf is that the Harry Potter intellectual property is So Much Larger than her. look at the credits for just one of the harry potter movies. every single one of those people put YEARS of time and effort and dare i say love into those films. think of all the people involved in theme park design and operation who put together the wizarding world park lands and detailed them so lovingly and fully

and yet even though the intellectual property of harry potter is so much larger than joanne, she's poisoned the whole well

i feel so. so immensely sorry for every person involved in the harry potter ip who isn't jkr. doubly sorry for every trans person involved. it's fucking sad

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boonandbash · 9 months ago

Text

Benjiman Fujisaki

Do they like their name?:Never thought about it but he’s alright with it

Nicknames: Benji, he’s also called Zombie

Age?:16 highschool

How old do they appear?: By his height, 17-18 but y'know he’s only a year younger

Birthday: December 7th

Eye color?: Axel makes them appear maroon and blue but his original eye color is brown

Glasses?: Only for the style

Weight/build: bean poll and a small bit toned

Height?: 5’9(175.26 cm)

Skin type?: sunkissed when put into the effort but can go pale when tired

Hair color/length: chin length and he dyed it blue, originally a reddish brown though

Taste in clothes: he dresses like a hobo, unless axels in control you are dealing with a feral raccoon (aka won’t wear pants)

Healthy?: depends, usually pretty healthy until needed to activate quirk then his heart stops beating at a normal pace(going extremely slow)

Music:(https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ofUCcX3Qj0Ublmo5DzQCR?si=agB449UlTha0N49xlSmT6w)

Daredevil: considering Axel is like venom and keeps benji alive, he’s very reckless it gets to the point where even Axel can’t fix it sometimes

Are they the same alone: talks to axel a lot but other than that he sleeps in his free time

Good habits: Hygiene is on point and remembers to sleep at a healthy time

Bad habits: self destructive as well as explosive anger

Hobbies: water coloring and playing LOZ over and over again

Family situation?: loves them with all his heart, Axel tolerates them

Friend situation: treats them like family and is very welcoming

Deepest fear: Axel taking over when he’s sleeping and he murders everyone in a hunger haze

Worst that could happen to them?:

being left alone again with axle for too long, silence makes him anxious

Favorite thing: Brownies no not weed brownies just nicely made brownies that melt in your mouth

Roll model: his Momma (yes he’s a momma's boy)

What would break them: seeing his little brother mark + his mom dead by his own hands or someone he trusted.

Best/worst thing in his life: best thing is definitely the fact he can function as a healthy human and worst would be that he can’t remember his life from 5-7 those memories are gone

What are they reluctant to tell people?:

He was quirkless before Axel and would’ve rather stayed that way

Opinion on intimate/ romantic relationships: cool awesome Thumbs up from benji

Major flaws:

Self destruction (and I mean the whole sha-bang, tearing up papers scratching his arms breaking stuff and even ruining his voice from screaming) plus facial dysmorphia

How does he feel about himself?: he doesn’t remember, and thinking about it makes his head hurt

Selfish,selfless: would sacrifice himself but know that he has to take care of himself as well, his family comes first though

How does the way the character try to be different from how they actually act:

Benji tries to ignore the ability that axel heightens his senses a lot more so he can hear everything at a dogs hearing and see a lot but if you mean by personality he drains himself completely of energy by the end of the day (the people pleaser life)

Now questions answered by Benji!

What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten: sandstone with ants on it, axel force fed it to me when I was hungry. Humans can not eat anything with nutrients regardless if it would solve the problem

Hogwarts?: between a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, bff is defo Luna for acceptance, Harry angers me as a protagonist, no love interest too Id get distracted by magic,

Ever bullied or have anyone afraid of you?: No I’ve never bullied but dark shadow seems to avoid me

Ever given away something expensive for free and do you regret it: I gave Mark my Pokémon cards because he got interested in it. I don’t regret it the way his face lit up is something I will love forever

Do you donate?: I would but I’m incredibly broke due to schooling and medication bills

What would you haunt as a ghost?: I would be the kind of ghost that mildly cleans for my brother Mark but if he’s a ghost with me then probably Mount Rushmore

Ever do something dumb/cool and acted like it was on purpose/accident.: there was this one time where I was cornered by some druggies and I ended up scaling the wall with my main torso towards them and my arms to the wall. That was by accident I just stuck to the wall! It wasn’t my fault I did take credit for it every time I tell the story though

If you could drink something for the rest of your life with no negative affect what would it be?

Shirley temples I can’t drink alcohol with my slowly deteriorating liver so definitely that.

Garden stuff?

I like cantaloupe and carrots but I think I would have a swamp other than a garden, y'know cat tails and moss.

Do you have any beliefs?:

I say dear god I’m sorry when I’m about to do something stupid and stuff but axel says that deity(s) are silly since why do you need to know what happens before you. Looking backwards does more bad than good

Motivation?:

Being a hero was all I could think to do with such a destructive power. If Axle is satisfied with hurting villains and destroying property than I can keep everyone safe

Who were you raised to be?: no idea I just kind of came into existence and my mom was proud and happy of it no matter what I became to be

How do you feel about yourself?

I exist to spite whatever allowed Axel to exist and hubris I guess it does effect how I treat him and others by simply making them worry but know Better than nothing

How do you feel about things you can’t control?: absolutely terrified next question

Can you use Chopsticks?

uh embarrassing to admit since I’ve used them before the amber(or so I’m told) but I can never use them again it’s so difficult

What do you do when you can’t sleep?

I watch cartoons that I enjoy like adventure time and Steven universe

What order do you wash in?

Weird flex but okay and whatever container I look at first ig so my hair and then everything else or it’s my teeth

Buying impulsively?

I buy keychain stuffed animals or just small one I have a few shoe boxes filled with them

Coffee order?

I can’t drink coffee, Axel rejects it and makes me throw it up once it gets in my stomach. It was not fun to figure that out all nighter with Mina.

Whatsapps did you get on your phone?

Tind- no I’m kidding I have tumblr, Snapchat and YouTube and like 7 different puzzle games

You like kids?

Sometimes it literally depends on whether or not they like me but I do tend to be sweet to them

What do you watch when you're bored?

I rewatch ATLAB, a lot

Where are you from?

Hosu city:

INFJ-T

(I have more just not very proud of them)

#my oc’s #Benjiman Fujisaki

0 notes

carewyncromwell · 2 years ago

Photo

“I’ve had enough of reading things By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians! All I want is the truth... Just gimme some truth...”

~“Gimme Some Truth” by John Lennon

x~x~x~x

brief reference to Merlin Wyllt @oneirataxia-girl

x~x~x~x

As January 1996 turned into February, Mia found herself less settled than ever.

After the Azkaban break-out, Dolores Umbridge issued yet another “Educational Decree” for Hogwarts’s students, which Mia’s nephew Olin described thusly --

Now the teachers can’t talk about anything with their students unless it’s specifically about their classes! I heard Professor Flitwick appealing to Professor Dumbledore about it, since he frequently councils Ravenclaws about personal matters at home. He said he couldn’t bear it if anyone else went through what “Jacob” went through, so I reckon one of his students ended up in a bad place once. And my friend Catie’s parents are going through a nasty divorce right now, so Professor Sprout’s been helping her through it...are teachers just supposed to not talk to their students when they’re afraid to go home because of what’s going on with their parents?

It made Mia suspect all the more that it had less to do with fixing problems at Hogwarts and much more about keeping students in the dark about what was going on in the political world...for what reason, Mia couldn’t figure out, but it troubled her all the same. The development concerned Florean too.

Brainwashing children to blindly trust in anyone’s authority is never a good sign. Muggle dictators have done it countless times over the centuries, to justify their claim. Even our own Ministry has done it, up to a point, in how they’ve whitewashed Merlin’s legacy as nothing but an example of “the most powerful wizard in history,” rather than someone who actively opposed and fought against what would become the Ministry of Magic and the Statute of Secrecy. I don’t want to believe this decision could be so maliciously motivated, and instead just be out of a misguided kind of protection...but considering what Olin has told you about Dolores Umbridge, I regret to say I have trouble promoting the latter.

As if sensing how much people were starting to doubt the Daily Prophet, and by extension the Ministry of Magic’s account of what was going on, the Quibbler published an interview with Harry Potter, written by the Prophet’s once star-reporter Rita Skeeter, centered around the events of Cedric Diggory’s death. In the interview, Harry laid out a harrowing account, detailing how he and Cedric had decided to take the Triwizard Cup together for Hogwarts, since they’re reached it at the same time; how the Cup had actually been a Portkey, enchanted to transport them to a dark, unfamiliar graveyard; how as soon as they’d arrived, Peter Pettigrew (who was somehow both alive and a Death Eater!) killed Cedric on the orders of a malformed creature wrapped in rags in his arms; how that creature turned out to be Voldemort himself, who ordered Pettigrew to forcibly take some of Harry’s blood for a potion that restored his body to him; how Voldemort, newly restored and alive, summoned his remaining Death Eaters and tried to kill Harry; and finally how Harry miraculously escaped when his and Voldemort’s wands linked via Priori Incantantem and he magically summoned the Portkey back to his hands, returning him to school.

It was an outrageous tale -- one too terrifying and ridiculous to believe. And yet, as much as Mia hated to admit it, parts of it seemed oddly sincere. Harry’s responses, for instance, came across as very modest, just like Florean had said he was -- Rita at several points seemed to encourage Harry to embellish his story, asking him about how the Death Eaters tortured him and such, but Harry didn’t rise to the bait.

“They didn’t do anything to me,” said Potter. “Except laugh, maybe -- a couple of them laughed. It was Voldemort who used the Cruciatus Curse -- they just stood back and watched.”

Trying to place herself in this poor boy’s shoes, your humble reporter asked him whether he’d resigned himself to death, upon facing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or if he had been truly so determined to survive and tell his story. Potter, however, confessed a shocking lack of introspection.

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” said Potter. “I just knew I didn’t want to die on my knees. I wanted to die fighting. But then our wands connected, and my...the...ghosts appeared...I guess they’re called shades?...but they told me to...to get the Portkey and run. And Cedric asked me to take his body back. So I did.”

Then there were details here and there that were so specific, it seemed incredibly unlikely that a teenage boy could’ve just made it up. Why was it that almost every name Harry recalled among the Death Eaters belonged to someone who’d been accused but acquitted of helping the Death Eaters? And the one that hadn’t, Peter Pettigrew? Mia remembered Pettigrew and his little “buddies,” Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and James Potter, from school -- they and Severus Snape had been all four years older than her, but Mia remembered them, and even at the time, she’d had a hard time believing that Peter Pettigrew of all people had tried to stand up to the likes of Sirius Black. She’d ascribed this to Pettigrew losing all common sense in response to the grief of losing the Potters to one of his other best friends -- but even then, Pettigrew had always had a bit of “Slytherin” in him. He was cowardly, sure, and he was never as talented or intelligent as his other friends, but he was also rather clever, when push came to shove, and he had a way of weaseling his way out of trouble. If this story of Potter’s had been made-up, anyone else would’ve accused Sirius Black of being the ringleader of this whole affair -- Minister Fudge himself had claimed the Azkaban break-out was all his doing. Some others might’ve even gone after Severus Snape, considering his history with the Death Eaters. But Pettigrew? Why would Harry accuse someone who’d supposedly been dead for so many years? Why bring up this man, after so long, and depict him as this cowardly, reluctant supporter of the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time? How would Harry even have known Pettigrew was the sort to cower behind his more powerful friends, when Pettigrew had supposedly died when he was still an infant? How could Harry describe Pettigrew so well, as if he were a real person who’d aged and grown over the years, instead of just how he looked in his old photographs?

Mia had been so invested by Harry’s account that she’d read the interview all the way through without putting it down. She then read it several more times over, and each time, she felt like her stomach was being tied in another knot.

It was only when a grayish-brown whippet came over to rest his head in her lap that Mia looked up from the Quibbler at last.

She forced a smile.

“...Hi, Dad.”

The whippet stared up at Mia for a long moment. Then some small flare of consciousness seemed to flicker to life behind his eyes, and the dog seemed to bend in on himself, resting his paw on the arm of the chair Mia was sitting in. Little by little, that paw seemed to grow and his short gray suede-like fur began to dissolve away into peach-colored skin...until at last, the bald, aging candymaker Ambrosius Flume sat curled up in a ball on the floor.

He opened and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he looked up. He put on a brave smile, upon seeing his second daughter.

“...Mia,” he said warmly. “Good morning.”

He glanced over at the closest window.

“...Or perhaps it’s good afternoon. Is it still the 13th?”

“Yeah,” said Mia.

“Oh good, I haven’t missed Valentine’s Day,” Ambrosius said brightly. “I still need to finish that special Sugar Butterfly for your mother...”

Seeing the somber look on Mia’s face, the candymaker’s face lost some of its cheer, but he still tried to keep a brave smile on.

“Mia, it’s all right,” he said gently. “I didn’t leave the house, I know that much. And I’m perfectly safe, so long as I don’t wander too far...”

Mia’s gaze fell down to the article she’d been reading uncomfortably.

It was true Ambrosius’s condition could be managed. He had always been able to turn back, once he’d interacted with his family and recalled his true self through them. But blood Maledictions were an incurable condition, one that gradually worsened over time. Sooner or later, all of those afflicted by it would transform into an animal devoid of any human consciousness and never be able to turn back into themselves. And the more Ambrosius turned into a dog without meaning to -- the longer he stayed in that form -- the more afraid Mia would be that he'd never become human again. It was a fear she’d had since she was a young child -- one so strong that her boggart for years had been her father in dog form...his eyes completely blank and growling at her like she was a stranger...

Ambrosius reached out and took his daughter’s hand. Mia looked up at him, to find a very comforting expression on his face.

“I may not remember everything, after getting dressed for the morning,” he said, “but I know what woke me up -- as it so often is -- was me seeing my little Pepper Imp and needing to be her father.”

Mia’s lips curled up in an emotional smile despite herself. Ambrosius smiled affectionately in return as he brought up his other hand to lightly pat her cheek.

“You looked quite troubled, when I came to,” he said. “Yet I don’t think it was just about me.”

He eyed Rita Skeeter’s article in her lap significantly.

Mia exhaled heavily.

“...Dad...I’m so conflicted,” she confessed. “The Ministry of Magic has always there to keep us safe -- that’s all it’s ever wanted to do, I know it. And yet...everything it’s been saying about Potter lately -- about Azkaban -- about You-Know-Who...none of it’s making any sense, Dad! Even Tia agrees. Dirk even thinks that Sturgis Podmore might’ve been put under the Imperius Curse, when he was found down in the Department of Mysteries last year for seemingly no reason. And Callie...Callie’s been talking to folks, ever since Rita Skeeter interviewed Potter...not just airheads like Jacob Cromwell or Xenophilius Lovegood, people who live in the real world, like Mafalda Hopkirk and John Dawlish -- respected Ministry employees -- ”

She picked it up and handed it to Ambrosius so he could read it himself from his spot on the floor.

“...And all of them -- well, just about all -- think Potter’s telling the truth! That Minister Fudge knows it too, deep down, but he’s been actively trying to discredit Potter and Dumbledore, all because he doesn’t want to face the truth! Even if that would have to mean that the Ministry has been lying about everything for the last year -- about Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, the Azkaban break-out -- about You-Know-Who not being back! And worse still...I’m starting to think he might be too...”

She bowed her head, swallowing back the lump that had cropped up in her throat.

“I just don’t understand how Fudge could do something so horrible,” she said weakly. “Even if he is afraid...what about all of us? Aren’t we afraid, not knowing what’s going on? Does our fear not matter? Does Olin’s and Skylar’s fear not matter? Fudge is supposed to be our leader, our Minister. Won’t we be afraid -- even more afraid than him -- not even having someone who’ll fight to protect us and the ones we love?”

Ambrosius got to his feet so that he could settle himself down on the arm of Mia’s chair, bringing a paternal hand up to rest on the top of her head.

“I know,” he murmured. “It is a terrible thought.”

He slid a lock of hair that had come out of Mia’s bun neatly behind her ear.

“I wish I could say that it has to be some sort of misunderstanding...but based just on what I’m reading here -- ”

He flourished the article in his hand before putting it down on the side table.

“ -- and hearing what I have from Callie’s broadcasts...I don’t think your suspicions are as farfetched as we’d like to believe.”

Mia looked up at Ambrosius. His face was incredibly solemn.

“I hate to say it...but we may indeed be in a situation where the ones we’ve chosen to lead us have chosen their own self-interest over our lives. And if that’s truly the case...I think we may have to do some looking, to find others who see the road we’re on and may also want to reroute our course.”

"How could we do that?” asked Mia. “We’re just confectioners -- we’re not politicians, or Aurors...we’re not Dumbledore or the Minister. What could we do to protect our world, if things really are as bad as we think?”

Ambrosius put on a brave smile again as he scratched the back of his neck beside his ear. “I’m not sure...but, well, we can’t be the only ones, to not believe the Ministry’s narrative. Who knows? Maybe if we can find those other people who see the dark clouds overhead and want to do something about it, we can put our heads together. Then maybe we’ll find some way to be of use.”

But Mia shook her head.

“‘Be of use?’ In a second Wizarding War? Potentially facing off against the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time?”

She brought her arms around herself as she rested her face in her own lap.

“We’re just normal people, Dad,” she said despondently against her legs. “What would we be, to a monster like that?”

Ambrosius brought his arms around Mia and gave her a hug. Mia inhaled the familiar vanilla smell off of his coat, trying to find some shred of courage, however elusive it was.

She didn’t want to believe things were as terrible as she feared. Merlin...did she hope beyond reason that she was wrong.

#hermia flume #ambrosius flume #hestia flume #callisto flume #jacob cromwell #jenie flume #harry potter #albus dumbledore #cornelius fudge #my writing #fanfiction #finally writing more mia content!! I've had this half-finished for a while #but now with this done I can finally get to the next part which features jacob and mia interacting more #LMAO mia I apologize in advance for how much jacob's going to test your patience over the course of the war #also yes I know jo said maledictuses are only female but you know what?#I don't care :D #ambrosius could be trans for all anyone knows #or it could just be flat-out wrong: we only have one canon maledictus example and she's honestly not a great one :I #plus if 'maledictus' was meant to be a feminine thing you probably would've used the feminine form of the word #namely 'maledicta' :P #yes ambrosius is best dad ever I will accept no arguments #his maledictus form is a whippet because he may not be the strongest thing around but he is deathly loyal to his family and sharp as a whip #whippets are known for being quiet yet intelligent dogs #they're also very fast runners and very affectionate family pets <3 #I honestly picked patrick stewart just because he's got that paternal vibe #plus I see ambrosius losing more and more of his hair as his condition worsens since hey -- whippets are short-haired breeds #so no mustache like when MC was in school

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maethoughtsandreports · 2 years ago

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“Real” Books vs. Fanfiction

| My List |

Why should other people decide what a “real” book is or what “real” writing is?

Writing by definition is “the activity or occupation of composing text for publication.” Now what about publication, is there really a difference between The New York Times and Archive Our Own(Ao3)? Yes there is, The New York Times is a newspaper; they talk about news not making fan-written content, but even then isn’t some of what they write fan-written too?

Anyone who paid attention to their high school English classes should know that William Shakespeare did not create Romeo and Juliet it was a story that was already around. Shakespeare just turned it into a play and made it his own.

Many people have used the story of Romeo and Juliet to make and tell other stories, much like the 2010 movie Letters to Juliet. People in Italy write letters to ‘Juliet’ leaving the letters on the wall, the letters are taken by these women who are ‘Juliet’ giving love advice to hundreds of people, there’s more to the movie but the story around the Italian lovers plays a major part in the movie’s plot.

Another movie based on the old Shakespearean play is Gnomeo and Juliet (2011), about two gnomes who fall in love but are from fighting gardens. Gnomeo ‘dies’ leaving Juliet heartbroken and for her “safety” her father glues her to her tower. Gnomeo’s best friend goes for revenge using a lawn tractor destroying both gardens; they find out that Gnomeo is alive just before the lawn tractor hits the tower Juliet and Gnomeo are on. Unlike the classic tragedy, they live and the gnomes make peace.

Another play by Shakespeare is Julius Ceasar, about the general Julius Ceasar, leading up to his death the ‘Ides of March’. We do not know what was said or the specifics of all that happened, but the play is not historically accurate either. What Shakespeare makes seem to happen in just a few weeks actually took two years; much more happened than what the play shows, but then that would make the play longer than it already is.

What about modern media, where fanfiction has become a constant that’s just there? Some very popular books have even gotten movies of their own. Specifically, After by Anna Todd and the far more popular Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James, were both originally works of fanfiction.

Fifty Shades of Grey the million-dollar selling series was originally a Twilight fanfiction posted on Fanfiction.net, James eventually took it down and made her own website to post her story on along with changing the characters’ names. Her online book gained so much traction that agents came to her to sign with them.

Unlike James' book, Anna Todd’s was posted on the infamous Wattpad, a writing and reading website and app better known for its abundance of fanfiction rather than its’ original stories.

After follows the protagonist Tessa and her very…messy love life of college. Her main love interest is Harry Styles, from the boy band that raged its most in the 2000s, One Direction. While the boy is nothing like the Harry Styles that everyone loves today(and then), Todd did say that they only share looks and dress. She did eventually change his name to Hardin Scott, keeping the singers’ initials, because if she did publish it with his name Harry Styles could certainly sue for defamation of character.

Ao3 has thousands if not millions of pages on its site, not all of them are good but not all horrible. Sure some should have never seen the light of day but here we are, a site where you can post a fan-written piece regardless of whether it is problematic or not. While none of them are “real books”, they are real writing.

Writing in itself is a spectrum, like poetry. Poetry is a form of writing that has so many different ways to go about it, you don’t truly have rules in poetry. Poetry simply has guidelines and that should go for writing as a whole.

If you’re interested!

Fifty Shades of Grey History

The History of After

#please indulge me #fanfiction #fanfics #books #fiction #writing #journalism #journal #ao3 #the new york times #after #fifty shades of grey #anna todd #e l james

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myvaginacalledmehomo-blog · 4 months ago

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This. When in reality a lot of QUEER people of different ethnicities are the ones making fanarts and writing fics and just keeping the fandom alive. And these canon bootlickers anti-diversity enjoyers want our identities to be erased even in 2024? are you kidding me lol?

And people who hate on the current Marauder's era fandom's diversity.. They most probably belong to cis heterosexual privileged/white circles who have no problem shipping 50+ straight white able-bodied characters but when diversity ships exist they just start hating on the people like what?

And if you call out their bs they'd be like "oh but we ship wolfstar" what an achievement! shall i clap?

and "dumbledore's already gay why do you want more queer ships that weren't canon anyway" buddy why do you care what WE ship? it's fiction it doesn't exist it won't harm YOU. 🙄

"jegulus won't work/rosekiller is fetishization and they didn't even interact in the canon/they'd have hated each other" And? So?

these same people literally out there cis+het shipping snily, snapmione and basically everyone with hermione with rapey and/or pedo contexts irrespective of the character's actual traits(which they use to hate on jegulus).

Ah convenient for them to bend rules but when we do it's wrong? "james won't touch a death eater" you want facts? hermione isn't a submissive victim and won't go out with voldemort, draco isn't a rapist top death eater from your SA torture novel oh sorry you guys call it dark romance, lily didn't cheat on james with snape, harry's not snape's illegitimate child, remadora and hinny were badly written into the canon by a TERF. But a lot of you write all these things for YOUR SATISFACTION. And won't let anyone point fingers at you.

Like ah yes, when we take characters and create lores and headcanons and fic authors out there write gorgeous words of liquid gold to show WHY ships like nobleflower/marylily could work it's "devil spawn's creation" but when you create something it is somehow the most important piece of literature rivalling Shakespeare and Plath and Austen even when a lot of it is either OCs with totally different personality than canon except the name stamp or just brainrot porn?

This post isn't to hate on any shippers but to show that any ship can exist if we work it out. Yes even ships like tomarry with age regression (which to me make more sense than snapmione or bellamione even though i don't read any of them).

i'm not going to hate on ships that have nothing to do with me with people who actively ship them. Fandom exists for all. If you don't like something do not interact or idk stay in the anti tags. Don't bother us with your 'explanations' it is boring and childish.

i need to be mean for a sec

whenever people say that regulus and severus are the same character, i genuinely wonder if they do not know how to read. like how can your reading comprehension skills be that low that you see “black hair, slytherin” and think “yeah they’re the same character”

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altijdjouwnaantje · 2 years ago

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I'm not gonna say you're bad or wrong for still clinging to hp or that you have to let it go because it's not my place, but that strength came from you and you can love so many better things and make so many better things. You don't need to cling to someone else's work like that.

And death of the author doesn't even mean that, it means that the reader's interpretation is just as valid as the writer's and that when analyzing literature you don't have to go look up what the author really meant when writing something. It doesn't mean "It's mine now." You can keep clinging to it if you want to, but I think you deserve better.

You are right on many counts. It's not your place. Harry Potter did not give me strength, that did come from me. A person can become physically stronger by lifting dumbells, by doing pushups or by laying bricks. It doesn't really matter how they build muscle mass, just that they do. And okay, maybe using kettlebells would have given different gains and maybe the person had bad form doing pushups, but they found a way to consistenly build their strength.

Harry Potter is definitely flawed. I know these books inside and out, and as I matured I see more flaws in these books now than I did as a kid. Just the same as I now see that my mum is not a flawless being who can fix everything and knows it all. You grow up, and your perspective changes.

But just like I won't renounce my mum for being an imperfect person, I will not renounce these books which were the tools I used to build my psychological strength, my critical reading skills, my creative and collaborative writing skills, my social skills, etc.

I do not cling to these books anymore, definitely not like I once did. Harry Potter is no longer the buoy I'm holding onto for dear life. I love better things and I make lots of things and I don't know if they're better but at leat the process of creating gives me joy.

I do not cling to them, but they stick with me. I got so much out of these, a lot more than the author put in. I keep getting a lot from them, not by actively engaging but just by virtue of how deeply ingrained it all is. I spontaneously relate things back to characters and plot lines because they were such a big influence on my life during my formative years.

Maybe I would have found other tools to help me grow, maybe something else would have helped me save myself too. Then again, maybe not.

I used these books to keep me alive, and while I have better things to keep me alive now, I want to be able to return to them if I need to. They've proven to be serviceable to me. The money was spent between 25 and 15 years ago, keeping those seven volumes on my bookshelf is not giving anyone any more royalties. Those books will stay there, reminding me that I survived. I was drowning and grabbed a hold of what could keep me afloat. If I find myself drowning again, then at least I have visible proof there that I can make it through, because look, this is how you rescued yourself last time, you are strong, you can do this again.

As ever though: I do not condone the current views of JK Rowling. She has gotten radicalised and has become a harmful actor. I wish she'd change her views to be less hateful. I no longer have any interest in engaging with any of her further works. I am even more critical of her earlier works now. But I will always love those earlier works, flawed though they might be.

Also: do I deserve better? Undoubtedly. But if life has taught me anything, it's that you get what you get, whether you deserve it or not. I did not get better things when I needed them, and I got a lot worse too, which I definitely didn't deserve. You get what you get, and I got this and found it useful. I'm keeping this. It's mine now. She cannot have it back.

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crinkle-eyed-boo · 2 years ago

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I was tagged by @disgruntledkittenface and @laynefaire to share five fics of mine that I really like. Thank you!!! I was telling Maggie that I had been hesitant to do this meme since I really only have...five fics when you exclude time stamps folded into series, but then SHE was like “You always have things to say about them, so why SHOULDN’T you do it?” And you know what? She’s right. So here you go. My five fics.

Own the Scars (144K)

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Looking back, I can’t believe I had the guts to post THIS after being a lurker in the fandom for years, both because of the length and the subject matter. Rehab! Tomlinshaw! Slow burn Larry! It was GUTSY. I had only JUST started actively interacting with the fandom in the six months before I published. Absolutely no one knew me. I was incredibly lucky to meet people who had bigger followings when I went to Harry’s show at the Ryman and they boosted my fic posts and got the story out there. None of them are overly active in the fandom still, but they eternally have my gratitude. I posted this one in CHUNKS, if you can believe it. I did it to try and organically build an audience for the fic, and of course, for the drama.

Finally, this fic wouldn’t exist if Maggie hadn’t said “Yes” when I asked her if she thought I could turn this screenplay I had written back in college into a Larry fic. Thank you for showing me how to write in the present tense, Marshmallow. I never want to write without you.

There’s Such a Lot of World to See (125K)

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Harry asks, thumbing at Louis’ hip. “Like what?” Louis asks breathlessly. “Like you’ve seen a ghost or summat,” Harry muses. “You did it all the time the other day and you did it just now.” Louis swallows hard, studying him intently. “You remind me of someone,” Louis says softly, tucking a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Someone I lost.”

Louis has seen a great many things throughout his travels in time and space, but only one he can’t explain: He keeps meeting the same boy, who says the same thing to him each time. The boy should be impossible.

Maybe he is.

A love story that defies the boundaries of space and time. Doctor Who AU.

To this day, I can’t believe I wrote this in six months, right after publishing OTS. For me, this one is the very definition of writing the fic YOU want to read. I adore this fic. I re-read it recently and CRIED even though I fucking wrote it. Doctor!Louis is probably my favorite Louis I’ve ever written. I am forever proud of all the action scenes and how alive they feel. Louis literally coming regeneration energy in the smut scene is something I consider part of my writing legacy. I know this one requires a big buy-in right away, but I’ve been so proud of how many non-Doctor Who fans have taken a chance on this one. Here I am, once again, begging you to give this one a shot if you haven’t.

Let Our Hearts Collide (76K)

When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son. In the Paynes, Harry finds the big family he's always longed for...and a love he never saw coming.

A While You Were Sleeping AU

I think my favorite thing about adaptation is that you get to dig deeper on themes that already exist in the movie/TV show but the script doesn’t allow time to fully explore them. While You Were Sleeping is not just a love story, it’s a story about finding your family and Let Our Hearts Collide became a story about pulling yourself up out of the darkest of times. I’ll always be grateful for the amount of emotional labor Maggie put into this one as we explored Harry’s sense of grief and loneliness. This one taught ME a lot, and this Harry is 100% my favorite Harry I’ve ever written.

No Bunny But You (13K)

“So you saw the bunnies then?” Harry clarifies, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, those were a bit of a surprise,” Liam huffs. “I mean, they definitely weren’t part of what we commissioned from him, but they’re kind of cute, right?” Harry sputters a laugh. “What?” Liam asks, the furrow in his brow deepening. “They are cute little bunnies!” “Cute little bunnies that are fucking,” Harry snickers. “What?” Liam gasps. “Liam,” Harry says, trying to school his face into a serious expression. “Those bunnies are fucking.”

A slow Monday night behind the bar turns into something else entirely thanks to a new mural and a new customer.

I was SO BLOCKED after finishing Let Our Hearts Collide until I saw this mural on the bar around the corner from my office at the time and the fic practically wrote itself. It’s fun, it’s sexy, and I still can’t believe Harry liked it so much he designed all of his tour merch around it. ;-)

Mine Would Be You (114K)

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

There’s not much to say about this one that I haven’t said before. Mine Would Be You was a true labor of love, and it taught me that if you have a story to tell, it will make its way out of you eventually. I came up with the concept in my mid 20s but think I wasn’t ready to write this one until I had lived a little bit more, had my heart broken a little (a lot) more, and come to terms with my own artistic journey, as someone who always dreamed of making it as an actor, and as someone who gave up that dream because that’s how life goes sometimes. It’s a story I couldn’t have written without making peace with my 25 year old self. It’s a story that I could not have written without the lessons I had learned from all the stories I had written before it. It’s a story that, in my heart of hearts, I believe ended up manifesting my current job. Sometimes, I still feel like I’m recovering from writing this one, 2 years later. I gave everything I have to this fic, and I’m just so fucking grateful that it comes through on the page.

Who hasn’t done this already? @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @greenfeelings @absoloutenonsense @twopoppies @indiaalphawhiskey sorry if you have and I just haven’t seen it!

#my fics #Own the Scars #There's Such a Lot of World to See #Let Our Hearts Collide #No Bunny But You #Mine Would Be You

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oopsimbug · 3 years ago

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in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

#by bug #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #hope you have a wonderful day my little pots of sweet tea!

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