#Minerva says he's doing well at least

[everythingisromant1c]

p1: chemistry read w/ co-star!james

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: before filming can start, your director has to ofc find the perfect person to play your love interest, + what better way to do that than to have a chemistry read?

a/n: i will not pretend to know anything abt film/tv production so this is more than probably innaccurate 🙏 also this first one is not my best work but dw more drama will ensue. <33

full series - masterlist

You'd wanted this job more than anything. You'd worked harder than anyone you knew to kickstart your acting career and knew this opportunity was just the way to do it. When your agent called you about an audition for the lead role in a new show titled 'South Bay'—a drama named after the L.A. region itself—and gave you a sample of the pilot script, saying you fell in love with it wouldn't be a stretch. And after those few months later when you'd received the call that you'd gotten the part, it was safe to say you were walking on clouds for weeks afterward.

Your amazing director Minerva had cast you first and foremost, knowing your role was key to the show's success, and you'd already built a strong relationship with her after just a few weeks of knowing her.

After casting you, she'd informed you that the show's next order of business was finding someone to play your character's—Cassidy's—love interest, Aaron. When she'd told you that initially, you didn't think anything of it. But when she told you they already had gone through the first round of auditions for the role and that it was time for the infamous chemistry reads, you had to try your hardest to stay completely calm.

Aside from the fact that you'd soon be meeting the person you'd have to spend hours working with every day for God knows how many months, you also knew that the casting directors were going to be looking extra careful at the romantic chemistry you were supposed to have with the actors they brought in. You willed yourself not to get worked up when the morning came for the chemistry reads with the men auditioning for Aaron, and reminded yourself that your role in the show was already secured. Yet, for some reason, you were still on edge.

Luckily, the casting directors had narrowed down their options from the hundreds of actors who had come to audition for the role of Aaron originally to just a handful, making your job much easier. By the time noon came around, you'd already read from the script with three different candidates.

Just as you'd expected, they each had done a close-to-perfect job in their auditions. Your personal favorite was the second actor you'd read lines with, a sandy-haired guy named Remus who you thought was a really nice person as well as actor. It was important to you that the person you were going to have to pretend to be romantically interested in was a person you at least liked, and it was all too easy to imagine working with someone like Remus.

You'd expressed your thoughts to Minerva when she'd asked for them, and she nodded in agreement—a good sign—before the two casting directors beside her were calling for her attention.

"This next one, Minerva," cooed the curly-haired woman you knew as Poppy from next to her, "we think you're going to like."

"Am I?" she asked, lips curling up.

"Oh yes. When we saw him we knew right away we had to bring him in for the chemistry reading." Poppy nodded to you. "He looks promising. And he certainly has the background; his parents are Euphemia and Fleamonet Potter."

The other casting director hummed in agreement, not hiding their impressed and widened eyes. "Not to mention, he has that accent."

You had to fight your expression from turning sour. A Potter? If there was one thing you didn't appreciate in the world of acting, it was nepotism. After working so hard and starting from the ground up to get your acting career where it currently was, the last thing you wanted was to have to see your director swoon over some guy just because of who his parents were.

Nonetheless, you had faith in Minerva to pick the person who truly deserved the job. You watched her nod at the two women beside her, intrigued nonetheless. She waved a hand over to the security guard by the door in the corner of the room.

"Bring Potter in?"

The burly man nodded and exited the room briefly, and not a minute had gone by before he returned with the man you assumed was the young Potter in tow.

You subconsciously stood up straighter when you saw him, trying to push away any premeditated opinions of the man approaching. Brown curls and a genetically gifted bone structure you could see from feet away, he walked into the room confidently with reason. He immediately offered the security guard who had brought him into the room a handshake, and you watched as the tall brick wall of a man lit up with a bright smile from the gesture. Potter then rolled out more charming words of greeting to the director and casting directors, and you took the opportunity to scan him over in more detail.

With an interest you couldn't explain, you saw that he was strikingly handsome in the kind of way you'd expect the son of two celebrities to be; he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to him flatteringly, with that sort of movie-star quality you knew audiences always swooned over. It didn't help that the moment he walked in you saw each of the directors turn to each other with raised brows and suggestive smiles that only widened when he introduced himself, charmingly posh British accent and all. You had to fight back from rolling your eyes at their reactions.

"James," greeted Poppy, standing up from her seat to give the man a handshake.

"Poppy," the man regarded, and you felt your eyebrows raise at the fact that he was already on a first-name basis with the head casting director.

She sat back down after a moment, keeping her attention on the man—James—as she spoke. "James, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Director of South Bay."

"I'm such an admirer of your work, Mrs. McGonagall. My parents took me to see your adaptation of Henry Shay's novel about three times when it first came out."

Your parents, you thought internally with some distaste; the famous actor and actress power couple. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head.

"Please, just Minerva," the director responded warmly, and you noted that she hadn't told any of the other actors to call her by her first name. "And thank you."

Poppy nodded happily before she held out an alarming hand towards you. "And let me introduce you to the wonderful actress who is going to be playing South Bay's leading lady Cassidy Ward."

You plastered on a smile and introduced yourself as plainly and confidently as you could, definitely not feeling suddenly conscious of your appearance as his warm-colored eyes raked over you.

James took that second to scan you over before realizing with a simmering feeling in the planes of his chest that there was something special about you he couldn't make out, something that had him wanting to greet you with more than a handshake. He refrained, thankfully, not saying anything after you finished introducing yourself for a second you felt was a beat too long, before scrambling to hold out a hand to you.

"I'm James. James Potter," he said as if you hadn't been already made aware of his last name. "It's an honor to get to meet you."

You didn't know why but his clear flattery only made you more uneasy of him, knowing it was something he'd probably gotten used to pulling out to impress whatever important or famous people he was busy meeting through all the connections he probably had.

You stopped yourself in your tracks; you were being unfair. You'd only known the guy, if you call it knowing him, for under a minute. Shaking off the odd feeling that was creeping its way into your stomach, you shook his held out hand with a polite nod, though that didn't the prying feeling inside you go away.

"Alright." Minerva clapped her hands together, looking between the two of you. "We're just going to do a read-through of scene number thirty-four, Episode three." She motioned towards the camera crew set up behind her, them shooting her a thumbs up.

She turned back around, looking between you and James pointedly. "Remember, your characters Cassidy and Aaron are the only two characters in the show who have known each other for longer than just a few months. They're close. That connection has to be visible, however you want to show that to us."

You didn't know why, but you felt uneasy. You nodded at Minerva regardless, seeing the supportive but anticipatory look behind her eyes as she glanced between you and the man now standing in front of you like you held the answers to all her problems.

James looked surprisingly calm and collected, like there was nothing in the world that could make the James Potter nervous. The more you looked at him and the confident set of his shoulders, the more you thought that was true.

Your director smiled. "Whenever you're both ready."

You nodded, taking a breath in before turning to James. "Where were you last night?"

You watched as James reacted to you in character, his strong brows pulling inwards. "What do you mean?"

You momentarily were taken aback by the almost effortless switch in his accent, but pushed the thought aside. "Last night. When everyone else was at Ryan's party. Where were you?"

He shrugged slightly. "I was in my dorm."

"Really? Because I knocked on your door and no one answered."

"I must've been sleeping. Why do want to know so badly?"

"I don't know, maybe because half the football team got caught last night breaking into the Dean's office."

"You don't think I did that, do you?"

You stared at him and then down at the floor. James—or Aaron, really—shook his head at you, his tone dropping. "I can't believe this."

Then he turned away from you and, as the script had told you to, you grabbed his wrist softly.

"Aaron, wait," you called, and the connection of your fingers to his arm had them tingling with a certain kind of teeming energy, though you didn't let it show on your face. "Of course I don't think you did it. I just don't know what to think. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't even tell me where you were."

James let a second pass before he said his next line, and it was like you could see his character's inner turmoil flickering through his mind restlessly when he said, "You want to know where I was, Cassidy?" You nodded. "I was talking with your Professor."

"Professor Brown?" you frowned. "Why?"

"I was trying to get him to let you submit your final thesis late."

"What? You know he told me I couldn't because-"

"Because of me." He paused dramatically, stern jaw working. "The only reason you missed the deadline was because you were helping me when I got too drunk to even make it up the stairs to my dorm."

"That's ... that's really nice of you, Aaron, but you know how Brown is-"

"He's letting you turn it in late for full credit."

"What?" You widened your eyes. "How did you ..."

"I told him how it was my fault you missed the deadline. And I told him about how good of a student you are, how you've never turned in anything late once, not even when we were in high school. But most importantly," he took a step closer to you to hold your hand, something you noted wasn't in the script but made your fingers flood with feeling. "I told him what a good person you were. How kind you are. Even to idiots like me who get black-out drunk during finals week."

You blinked at him, letting a smile overtake your face for a moment. "You really didn't have to."

"I did."

He squeezed your hand and, even if it was only acting, the way he was looking at you so meaningfully made something in your chest tighten excitedly. You didn't have to act when you shifted your gaze to the ground nervously. Why the hell were you nervous? "I don't know how the hell you got him to say yes."

"Well, I also have to wash his car for free for the next six months, but that's just a small detail."

You let your jaw drop. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."

"Of course I would." James took another step closer, still holding tight onto your hand and not breaking the immobilizing eye contact he'd established with you the whole while. "I'd do anything for you, Cassidy."

He nodded slowly, truly looking invested. Then, in a beat as short as a breath but one that must've felt like minutes to you as you stood there unmovingly, he leaned forward. All you could do was blink as his handsome—ugh, handsome—face neared yours before tilting itself to the right, where he left a soft but lingering kiss on your downstage cheek.

Then he pulled away again, the distance between you maybe a few inches smaller than before, before finally whispering, "Anything."

That definitely was not in the script. Your eyes blinked in an alarm that surely was no longer in character, but James looked unbothered, something you were finding was his natural state of being.

You felt your mouth go slightly dry at the intensity behind his eyes as he looked at you, but the last thing you could do was look away now, so you stayed rooted in your place in front of James as you waited for your signal to break character. Waited and waited; you felt dizzy.

"Cut!"

Minerva immediately clapped, the casting directors doing the same, and you felt like you could finally breathe as you dropped James's hand that was still holding yours and turned away from him, not sparing the man a second glance for nervous reasons you couldn't place. Maybe it was because of the fact that the feeling of his stupid lips was still lingering on your cheek.

Your director's tone was neutral when she said, "Great job, you two," though you watched as she turned passionately toward the two casting directors and they began speaking in hushed tones.

You shook your leg subtly as you waited, an antsy habit that you couldn't identify the current cause of, and you felt James lean down next to you, something that sent a nauseating feeling of déjà vu through you.

"Don't worry," he whispered lowly, taking your mannerisms as a sign of distress. He noted that even when frowning you looked extremely pretty, though at his words you left his lips your frown only deepened. "You did great."

You turned to him in confusion and some offense, trying to keep your voice hushed as you asked, "Excuse me?"

He shrugged a shoulder, eyes flicking over your figure for a split second that you definitely noticed. "You just looked tense, is all."

You stared at him blankly, not knowing what he could possibly be implying. Was he saying your acting looked tense? That you didn't look sure of yourself? Like you weren't already the lead and that he was the one auditioning? 

You fought the urge to say that maybe you looked tense because he'd just kissed you on the cheek out of nowhere, and stayed defiantly silent. When you didn't say anything back he let his lips turn up into a lopsided smile that you were sure must work on all the ladies, almost a smirk, and he nudged you in the shoulder a bit like you were old friends. Who was this guy?

Whatever you thought he meant by the statement, you didn't get to say anything back, because Minerva had pulled away from her conversation and was staring expectantly at the two of you. You did your best to soften your expression away from offended and back to neutral.

"Well," she said, turning to the man beside you. "Thank you, James, for coming in."

"Thank you," he responded, tipping his head politely. Then he took a step forward and shook each of the casting director's hands, and you watched with a foul taste in your mouth as their lips visibly fought against fond smiles.

When he turned back around, he held his hand out to you as well, and you regarded it for a moment before shaking it like you did at the start of his audition, though this time it was definitely against your will. His hand was warm and smooth, like he hadn't worked a day in his life, and you hated the fact that you even noted how it felt at all.

Like he knew you didn't enjoy his presence, he smiled at you with something knowing shining in his eyes that you hated before he took his leave, the door to the room shutting behind him.

"That was ..." began Poppy, shaking her head slowly, "Perfect. Just perfect."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted almost exhasperatedly. "Really?" You hoped you hadn't revealed your surprise in your tone.

"Yes," Minerva responded instead, also seeming to be in awe. "Wow." She gestured with her hands exuberantly. "It was like I could see the show coming to life right in front of me."

"Not to mention the chemistry between you two." Poppy tipped her head at you, smirking as she fanned herself. "I mean, wow."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything you'd regret. Your throat felt dry. If you heard one more 'wow' from any of their mouths in reference to James Potter again you thought you were going to lose it. You tried to keep the premonition out of your voice as you bravely asked, "So, do you think you're going to cast him?"

Minerva paused for a moment in thought before answering you. "I mean, he was the last actor we're considering for the role, and I think he was the best we've seen today." She looked between the two other casting directors who nodded agreeingly at her words. "But I'd like to know your thoughts."

You blinked at her. "My thoughts?"

"Well, yes," she answered plainly. "He's going to be playing your love interest. And I like to hear my actor's opinions."

You pursed your lips at her words, feeling flattered but also not knowing how you were feeling at the prospect of having to work with James all the time. Although, deep within you, something was nagging at you—something you absolutely did not like—and telling you your answer.

The truth was, the scene you acted out with James felt realer, had come to life more than it had with any of the other actors that day. Maybe it was because he'd taken such liberties with the role, sure, but regardless, he did a great job. The thought made you hate yourself when you finally took a breath in to speak.

"He ..." you began unsurely, and then sighed. "He was great. Really great."

"Perfect!" Minerva clapped her hands together again, and something in your stomach churned. "We'll make contact with him as soon as possible." Her eyes twinkled as she regarded you. "I can't wait to have you two leading South Bay. I have nothing but hope."

"And," Poppy added, "it'll be great for publicity having a Potter in our cast."

The two other directors at the table nodded and murmured in agreement, and you fought from sighing. You thought of the days you'd spend on set with James Potter, of all people, not only having to get along with him but connect with him, with someone who clearly thought they were above you, enough to reassure you when you had already gotten the lead role. And then you thought of what it would be like to release South Bay to the public, your first leading role, only for Potter's undeniably charming face to be the audience's main focus. It left a sour feeling in your mouth.

But it wasn't just that horrible premonition that annoyed you; you didn't know exactly what bugged you about him in particular but you knew it hadn't gone away with his formal handshake or well-practiced manners. In fact, that'd probably only worsened the feeling.

But there was nothing you could really do about it now. At least, not if you planned on keeping your job. You were a professional, you knew that. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to maintain that title. You really did sigh then, and something rooted in your gut told you it was going to be a long year of shooting.

[liv2post]

Hello!!! I have another request if you have time, but I was wondering if you could do something with Severus and reader where they're super close and in love with each other but they're the only ones who can't see it 😭

Hi! I hope this is to your liking! I've never really written an oblivious pairing before, so I hope this works with your request '3'

Word Count: ~1.4k Pairing: Severus Snape/Professor!Reader Read on ao3!

Baffled

It was appalling how long you and Severus had managed to thwart her, Filius, and Dumbledore’s bet. Minerva sat in the staff lounge, grumbling at the seeming lack of progress. They had made the bet nearly a year ago and it didn’t seem like it would ever officially meet its crescendo. The bet was about you and a certain Potion’s professor. She had seen the way the two of you had looked at one another when you both met for the first time, the way intrigue shined in both of your eyes despite initially remaining to yourselves. Filius had to practically orchestrate your first interaction, “accidentally” requesting both of your help to control a room whose furniture had “mysteriously come to life” and couldn’t be controlled with just the wizard’s magic alone.

Since then, your interactions have blossomed from collegial to friendly to…whatever the hell was going on between you.

Love.

Or at least that’s what the Transfiguration teacher could hope for. It was an understatement to say that the two of you were arguably closer to one another than anyone else. However, the way you were closer to Severus made her think that it was love more than it was friendship.

Severus didn’t let anyone touch him. Anyone. The man could barely stand casual touch; a hand on the shoulder, a nudge with the elbow, and yet, the liberty had been granted to you. And the man didn’t shy away from it either. But it went beyond such little touches unbeknownst to Minerva. There had been a few instances where you had given him scalp massages. Imagine, the Potion’s master let someone touch his hair.

Outside of touches, the two of you could also be seen at each other’s side; sitting at meals, walking through Hogsmeade, the castle corridors, and lounging in the staff room. Just talking. Or reading in silence. And when the two of you talked, he would smile.

He would smile for Merlin’s sake!

And then there was that one time when she had walked down to the Potion’s classroom in need of a sleeping draught from Severus. 

She had pushed open the door only to be met with the sight of you and Severus hovering over a boiling cauldron, the both of you shifting your weight unsteadily and gripping the edge of the table, both smelling of firewhiskey.

“Are you two quite well?” she questioned urgently. 

Severus and had pressed his lips together, while you had burst into a fit of snorting giggles. “Mhm! Yep, we're alllllll good heeeeere,” you smiled, stumbling back onto a stool and patting your legs happily. “We maybe had a bit to drink.”

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Severus. “Really, drinking and brewing?”

“I’m no less smart drunk than I am sober, Minerva. I have all my facilities, though I can’t say the same for Y/N,” he sneered teasingly at you. 

You blew a raspberry at him, prompting him to grab the nearby potions textbook and bopping you on the head. In response, you had made an attempt to shove him, but the force of the push moved you back on the stool rather than having an impact on the man. The stool began to fall backward and as you tried to steady yourself, Severus shot a hand out and grabbed your arm, tugging you back to him and holding you against his side. 

“Quit messing around, you insufferable girl.”

She was baffled to no end.

“Ravenclaw.”

“Slytherin.”

“Ravenclaw.” 

“Slytherin.”

Both of your bickering interrupted Minerva’s reminiscing as the door to the teachers’ lounge opened. 

“What are you arguing about now?” she quipped.

“We’re debating on what house me and Severus’s hypothetical child would be.”

Filius, who had been drinking tea on the chair opposite of Minerva began to choke as Minerva herself stumbled over her words in nonpluss. “Wh- I beg your pardon?!”

“Hypothetical child, Minerva,” Severus emphasized with a roll of his eyes, following you to the cabinet to grab his preferred flavored tea. Filius and Minerva met each other’s gaze, both thinking the same thing: Are these two really that oblivious?

Finally, the annual Yule Ball had come and Dumbledore decided to take matters into his own hands. The conniving man had arranged for both of you to have chaperoning duties at the same time. In accordance with the rules, both of you had dressed up in formal attire, but neither of you had any intention of actually dancing with the other, especially in front of the students. 

No matter how much the both of you had wanted. 

“But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?” you thought to yourself, inches from your partner in crime, who kept his hands clasped behind his back, surveying the students on the dance floor. He was your best friend. He probably didn’t see you as anything else. Surely if he did, he’d have made a move or dropped hints, right?

Severus was enduring the same turmoil, resisting the urge to place a hand on your waist and guide you to somewhere more private. You looked exceptionally beautiful, more beautiful than you did every day you saw each other. You were his closest friend and he didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that he was wrong. He thought he had given you enough indication about his feelings towards you, though they were rather indirect. Or maybe you just didn’t see him that way, and therefore didn’t consider them to be hints…

“Severus. Y/N,” the Headmaster greeted. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I believe I saw some students taking to carousing in the courtyard. Could you two handle that? I can watch those dancing in your place.”

“Of course, Headmaster,” Severus nodded and you followed after the professor in black who swept out the Great Hall.

But there were no students out there. It was an outright lie. He just wanted to get the two of you alone without any students’ eyes on you. The man counted down from two minutes in his head before quietly slipping out of the Great Hall himself. He paused outside of the doorway to the courtyard, casually peering out toward the stone fountain. The two of you were talking, the quietude of your conversation deaf on his ears as he watched the both of you trying to calm your nerves, Severus gripping his wrist hard behind his back, you playing with your fingers in front of your stomach.

But both your thoughts were loud, and Dumbledore could hear you and Severus cursing the headmaster for setting up a situation where the both of you were alone, bathed in moonlight with music drifting out through the windows of the Great Hall, neither of you wanting to take the plunge. 

“Ask her to dance, Severus,” Dumbledore mentally sent to Severus.

Severus stiffened, refusing to whip his head toward the doorway of the courtyard.

“Go. Away,” Severus thought back harshly.

“I will when you ask her to dance. She obviously wants to.”

Dumbledore felt Severus block their mental connection as a few seconds later the Potions professor slowly brought his hands down to his side, one curling nervously into a fist, the other he offered hesitantly to you, mouthing something at the same time. Dumbledore watched as a soft smile grew on your lips and you nodded fervently.

Dumbledore stepped back out of sight, smiling to himself in satisfaction as he went to converse with a nearby painting as he waited. Some minutes passed before the two of you reentered the castle, your lipstick lightly stamped on one of Severus’s cheeks and slightly smeared on his own mouth.

“Well, it’s about time,” Dumbledore remarked, not just referring to the amount of time you both spent outside. 

The both of you blushed the same shade of your lipstick. “Shut up,” you both muttered, as Severus grabbed your hand and tugged you close to him, the both of you sweeping away to the dungeons. Dumbledore just chuckled, turning on his heel and returning to his colleagues in the Great Hall. 

He had winnings to collect. 

[himegureisu]

The Howler

Summary: Your husband, Severus, receives a Howler from you.

A/N: This prompt randomly passed through my brain. I thought it would be nice. It did take a day or two to write but here it is! I hope you like it, this is the first time I'm writing for Severus x Reader.

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

In the Great Hall, the breakfast banquet was served. Their students eagerly chattered among friends over good food and drink before classes. On the other hand at the High Table, small talk and occasional personal questions were exchanged.

That’s until the owls, in turn, the mail, came for the day.

Their tiny but sturdy claws carried various packages from letters, gifts, newspapers, and journal subscriptions. Among them, one particular barn owl was heading straight toward the High Table holding a distinct red letter.

From afar, Severus could see the owl, ignoring the House Tables, and coming straight for him. It wasn’t his owl. No, it was your owl. If it was your owl then…

“Oh dear,” Severus said,

By his side, Minerva, who was perusing her copy of the Wizarding World News stopped, to glance at him as the owl dropped the angry red letter above his plate.

“Severus,” she asked, the attention of other professors turned to him, “Is that a Howler?”

“Who would send our dear Severus a Howler?” Filius asked after,

You. His wife. Would send a Howler. You, who were undeniably cross after being forgotten.

Your owl chirped, Severus presented to her a treat, which she happily accepted before flying off. He stared at the Howler mentally preparing for the reprimand about to happen when Dumbledore said.

“Well go on, Severus, open it,” he urged, “I heard it is unwise to leave Howlers unanswered,”

So, he did.

“Severus Tobias Snape!” your voice echoed throughout the Hall, the student's attention on him, “You forgot about the move! I reminded you a thousand times when it was, and you still didn’t come.”

This time the Great Hall was quiet. Their attention focused on the tirade given to their most hated professor.

Let’s just say he wanted to die then and there.

“I know you hate handing your classes off to someone else, but I at least thought you’d make an exception for me!” you shouted at him in mind, “I moved across the continent for god sake! Do you know how much stuff I had? No! Do you know hard it was to transport all my boxes into the Manor? No! It was hard and that was with magic already. The only good thing you did was leaving the portkey because if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to enter the damned Manor and would be standing outside of it looking like a fool!”

The Howler paused.

“I love you but if you don’t come home tonight to help me unpack, you’re going to find yourself locked out of your own house.”

The Howler combusted thereafter.

His colleagues were in shock at the message conveyed. His students stared in a mix of horror, amusement, and curiosity. On the other hand, he was so screwed. His composure slowly faltered upon deliberating what to do and quickly decided on the appropriate course of action.

To go home to you.

“If you’d excuse me for the day, Professor,” Severus addressed Dumbledore, standing up from his seat, “I need to make it up to someone,”

“You can take the rest of the week off, Severus,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in wonder, “It seems you have some groveling to do,”

“That I do, Professor,” he answered, walking away then sighing, “That I do,”

Part 2 is up 💖

[theatreslave]

Can you imagine little 21 year old Severus Snape as the youngest teacher?

It takes a bit to warm up to him, but soon, he's the surrogate son to everyone. They mother hen him and at first he's reticent but then he, at least in his mind, basks in it.

After all, the boy hasn't known as much kindness as this in his whole life.

He's healthier than ever, getting in the role of teaching, and becoming the powerful wizard he knew he could be.

Obviously it takes nearly 3 years to get Severus used to life as an adult with freedom, a consistent salary, and the station to actually have some appeal to the fairer sex.

Now all his new mums get an idea.

It becomes their mission to find him a woman.

Nieces, cousins, a friends' friends' kid are all introduced to Severus.

The failed meet cutes only result in more blind dates being set up for him.

It takes another 3 years for him to get up the courage to say no to McGonagall and Pomfrey and Sprout without feeling like he's disappointed them. He's 27 at this point and does well enough on his own when he wants to.

It isn't until he's 28 that they find out he's been keeping a 'girlfriend' from them. Of course he says she's simply a friend but that doesn't stop them from fussing over him every time he 'has plans'.

The intervention comes 6 months later when they realize it's not a "girlfriend" it's "girlfriends." But Severus is now confident and has fun making his surrogate parents squirm a little. Teach them to be so nosy.

But he still let's them fuss about him eating and his hair and his snarkiness. It makes them feel useful and poking fun at them is entertaining.

They notice a change when the Potter boy shows up. He's anxious and quicker to startle. The confident and self-assured young man they know is darker, more quiet.

It only gets worse as the years pass, as the war returns. Poppy keeps quiet as she patches him up. Minerva distracts him with competition and friendly rivalry. Pomona lets him roam the greenhouses when he can't sleep, and sometimes they garden together under the stars. She wonders why he isn't allowed peace. They all do.

At 38, Severus is Headmaster, and so far from the boy they once knew. They can't imagine that it's the same man but occasionally there are glimpses in his dark eyes, in his tired gait, in that final moment when Minerva allowed the anger and betrayal to course through her into her wand.

Minerva sees how he never fights back even though she knows he could have killed her, killed them all, at any point that year.

Pomona sees him for a moment during the battle. He sends a shield and smirks at her surprise and she knows her adopted son is in there.

Poppy let's her stoicism fall at the end of that fateful day. When his body is the last to arrive, escorted by Potter himself.

The childless mother's see him everywhere. In the students who come from broken homes, the ones who are smarter and reviled for it, and the ones who accept affection like it's a venomous snake.

He was so young when they met him and still so young when he left them.

Forever the youngest professor and Headmaster that Hogwarts would ever see.

[deconstructthesoup]

Looked at my Dead Boy Detectives swap AU, decided that it could be better, and ran with it. So... here ya go.

(For those of you who need a refresher---it's an AU where Crystal and Niko are the ghosts and Charles and Edwin are the alive ones. "Dead Girl Detectives," basically.)

Crystal is pretty much unchanged from the original concept---she died in the 1920's, she was a psychic socialite with absent parents, and she acted like the quintessential spoiled wild-child while secretly being fascinated by detective stories. She died when she got possessed by David the demon, who puppeted her body around for weeks... until she finally managed to wrench back some form of control, threw both of them off of a building, and wound up getting sent to Hell. Now that she's out and living free as a ghost, she's doing her level best to leave her old self behind and be a better person---partly for herself, but also so she can prove that she doesn't deserve eternal punishment if Hell ever comes for her again.

Niko's still an anime geek from the 1990's who was an outcast in life, but her death circumstances are different. Instead of dying from the dandelion sprites, she accepted an invitation to a party in an effort to try and socialize more after her father's death... and she got killed in a prank gone wrong, trapped in an abandoned mansion that used to belong to Crystal's family. She probably would've even moved on if it weren't for Crystal showing up and helping her out, giving Niko a reason to stick around. Niko's doing better now, but she still hasn't really processed her feelings surrounding her death. (Also, her hair's still white---she just dyed it that way, and it's never changed even after she died.)

Charles is also pretty much unchanged from the OG concept---he's still an irresponsible witch who got possessed by David and lost his memories as a result---with the added detail that he's one of many incredibly powerful magical people who David's possessed, wrecked havoc with their powers, and killed, though Charles thankfully survived the ordeal thanks to the Dead Girl Detectives. Also, I'm fairly certain that Charles is not only well aware that he's bisexual and out, but he and David were almost certainly dating. Or at least hooking up.

Edwin's still a socially awkward comics nerd and shut-in, but I decided to just have him get the paranormal parasite as a way for him to get involved with Charles and the Dead Girl Detectives---though, instead of a dandelion sprite that's all about soaking up attention, it's a hornet-themed sprite that feeds on people's insecurities and self-loathing. I think that he still butts heads with Crystal a little bit, but his bookish, studious nature winds up becoming incredibly helpful to the team, and he gets along great with Niko and Charles. Especially Charles.

Now, after thinking about it, I realized that if I was going to do a four-way swap with our main crew, it would probably make sense to do the same with our supporting cast. So:

The Night Nurse---or Minerva Knight, as I've tended to name her in my AUs---is in the place as Port Townsend's resident witch, though her motives are pretty different from Esther's. She has no need for any spells of eternal youth, having stopped aging a while ago, and she considers herself the protector of Port Townsend, keeping the forces of the supernatural at bay from the mundane residents... even if that means occasionally sacrificing a child or two to keep some of the more unsavory beings satisfied. Needless to say, Minerva has a very skewed view of morality, and unlike her canon counterpart, she can't really be swayed to change her mind. She's scary.

Esther, meanwhile, is in the lovely position as the Crow Queen, a charming and campy trickster being who exists to wear fabulous, over-the-top outfits, rule over her little feathered darlings, and to be a menace to everyone she meets. Her whole deal with Crystal isn't exactly flirtatious, but it's enough to give Crystal a gigantic bisexual awakening. And whether or not Esther's really all that interested and is just fucking with her, she's a lot of fun, and she's definitely instrumental in helping Crystal realize more about herself.

Thomas (the Cat King, but we're calling him by his first name) is Charles and Edwin's landlord---the owner of a queer bakery who's having a bit of a quarter-life crisis and is therefore a bit of an asshole to almost everyone he meets. Despite how prickly he is, though, he has an energy about him that makes him automatically endearing to every single misfit teen in a fifty-mile radius, and he's less than enthusiastic about it. Deep down, Thomas doesn't really mind, because he is a pretty lonely individual (not that he'd ever admit it).

And lastly, Jenny is the Night Guard On Duty in the Afterlife Lost & Found Department---overworked, burnt out, and thoroughly cynical when it comes to the affairs of the living. She's convinced that all she really needs is the big case that'll get her a promotion to a much less stressful position, and tracking down the Dead Girl Detectives seems to be just the thing. Of course, she's not as dedicated to her job as she appears to be, and even years of working in the most depressing place in the universe hasn't fully worn her down.

And, uh, other than the fact that I'm gonna have to figure out a stand-in for Monty... that's what I got!

[serverusslaype]

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips. 

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it. 

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility." 

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

 "No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly. 

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

[multific]

Be Paw-Sitive

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Inspired by @rilakeila​'s work

Summary: You are an animagus who can turn into a cat. But one morning, you wake up to an unpleasant surprise. 

You were majorly screwed.

How were you supposed to go to classes like this?!

Seem like your private lessons with Professor McGonagall didn't pay off as well as you thought.

Now, here you were stuck with a pair of ears and a tail!

You must have tried to turn in your sleep and somehow got halfway stuck. That wouldn't be the issue. The issue was that no matter what you tried, you couldn't make them go away.

And your first class was with Snape... great. 

No student knew about your abilities. Some professors knew but that's all.

You wanted to call in sick, pretending you were ill, but you also knew no one would believe you.

One last attempt you turned fully into a feline before turning back but the ears and tail were still there. You knew you had to go to class. You knew you couldn't reveal your secret.

You let out a sigh before grabbing your robe to hide your tail and a hat for your head. You thanked the winter at least it will be passable on the hallways, maybe not inside the class but you will deal with that later...

"Miss Y/L/N... I thought you were aware that it is rude to wear a hat inside my class." 

Of course, Snape couldn't just let it pass, but you were a great actress.

"Of course, Professor, I got ill last night and I am shivering as it is, if you could allow me please to keep it on, I learned so much for today's test, I didn't want to miss it." Snape gave you a look but let it pass. Just this once.

After class when everyone left, you stayed behind.

"Professor, I do apologise for the hat."

"You are not sick." his voice was so monotone.

"No. I woke up this morning and..." you took off your hat and showed him your ears. "And I also have a tail..." 

"I'll talk with Minerva. See if she can help, for now go to your next class." you smiled and turned to leave.

You always liked Snape. There was something about him, something behind his eyes, he was hiding his kindness and you saw that.

Your day went on quite well, pretending to be sick so you could keep your hat on. Professor McGonagall unfortunately, had no idea how to change you back, she said she will read some books and get back to you as soon as possible.

Later that day, you sat defeated in a hallway. It was rather quiet since no one really used that hallway.

You let out a long sigh before trying to return to your book.

"Here you are. I have been looking for you." came a voice and as you looked up, you saw Mattheo walking over to you. "Here." he handed you a small brown bag and you looked at him confused. "Take it, it's not going to explode!" Mattheo and you barely spoke before. He was a friend of yours, you would say. 

You took the bag and opened it, only to find medicine in there.

"The lady at the store said these are the best for a cold." he explained as you looked back up at him. "You said during many classes today that you feel ill."

Was he worried about you?

"Thank you!" you yelled after him as he walked away. He raised one of his hands to wave goodbye. 

You felt your heart swell.

You might have just developed a crush on Mattheo Riddle...

---

Two days later and you had the same issue. 

The professors had no idea how to help you and every possibility you tried out failed.

Dumbledor decided to officially give you an exemption from classes for the time being. He respected your decision that you didn't want to share your secret with the students. 

Everyone was told that you were sick.

You truly didn't like lying to others, especially your friends, but you were also not ready to share that you are an animagus.

There was a sudden knock on your door.

"O-One moment!" you yelled, getting into bed and covering your head with your hoodie. "Come in!"

It was Mattheo, the last person you expected. 

"Hi." he said as he closed the door behind himself. 

"Hello."

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm a little better thank you." you smiled as he looked around your room.

He noticed the books scattered around the place. Everything looked and smelled like you.

"What's this?" he said as he walked over to your table, finding the bag he gave you days ago. "Y-You didn't take the meds I gave you?"

"Um..." but you saw him rolling his eyes.

"Are you serious? I thought you were different from the others! You could have told me, I know I am the Dark Lord's son! But I am not like him!"

"What?" you asked, confused.

"For fucks sake! You didn't take these because you hate me just like the others right?!" he yelled before running towards the door but you were also fast. You grabbed his arm and turned him towards you. He was angry.

"I-that's not why. I don't hate you." you said but he rolled his eyes. 

"You don't even look sick. Did you lie to the teachers?!" he asked as he looked at your face. 

The hatred in his eyes made you scared. Scared that you will lose him.

"I didn't." 

"What is going on here?"

"I can't tell you and please stop yelling."

"I yell if I want to Y/N! You made me worry for you that you were sick! I got you medicine and now two days later I find out that you didn't even take them! Is this because I'm a Riddle?! Why did you lie?!"

"I didn't... I can't tell you."

"Can't tell me?! Y/N, I thought you were better than that. I thought you could see beyond a last name, not like the others. Looks I was wrong." he moved to get to the door but you stood in his way, leaning against the door, not letting him out. "Move out of my way." but you shook your head, no. "MOVE!" he yelled louder than before and it really irritated your ears. You covered your face as you slid down against the door, tears running down your face.

"I don't hate you, please don't hate me." is what you said but he yelled again, this time it was your name. And just like that, you were gone.

Mattheo's eyes nearly fell out of his head as he now saw a cat where you were previously. The cat ran under the bed and Mattheo stood there, frozen. 

His brain tried to function but he just couldn't move or think.

Took him a good minute before he knelt down on the floor and looked under the bed. 

"Come out please." he said with such a soft voice, it even surprised him. He tried to reach under the bed but you moved away, out of his reach. "Come on, Y/N." but you didn't budge. He let out a sigh. "I don't hate you. I really don't. I was just angry, I'm sorry for yelling. I really like you, Y/N. So, my mind went into a spiral when I thought you hated me, but I get it now, please come out." but you didn't move. 

Mattheo moved to sit on the bed, deciding to give you time and space.

You moved from under the bed. Getting out and looking at him as he kept on staring at the wall. You didn't turn back, deciding to stay as a feline for now. 

You jumped up on the bed and this is when he noticed you. You sat with your tail moving around you, you were thinking as well.

"I didn't know you were an animagus. I guess no one else knows." you shook your head, no. "Do the professors know?" you nodded, yes. "Ah, makes sense. You are a really cute cat you know. You look very fluffy and... sorry." He tried to reach over possibly to pet you but stopped. Still sitting on the bed, you took a deep breath before turning back.

"Please don't tell the others. They would tease and bully me." you begged as you moved closer to him. "I didn't go to classes because I can't make my tail and ears disappear," you said pointing at your head. "I'm sorry for lying. I never expected you to buy me medicine." he nodded.

"I won't tell anyone."

"I really like you too, Mattheo. I felt really bad for lying, but you understand why I couldn't tell you." he nodded before he looked at you, smiling a little.

"Your eyes are also... um... cat-like?" you let out a long sigh.

"Professor McGonagall said it is normal for a young animagus to have certain characteristics like that. Eyes are normal but ears and tail... not so much."

"I think it's cute." he reached up, touching the ears on top of your head. "Would you purr if I scratched here?"

"No, I bite."

"You are not a nice kitty then." he smirked and you smiled.

"I don't plan on being one." you played along with him and it made him smile. "I am a very bad kitty especially when someone who isn't my boyfriend touches me."

"Oh, you have a boyfriend now?"

"I do."

"Lucky fella."

"Yeah, he brings me medicine when I'm sick but he is rather bothered by his last name."

"I'm not! People are." you smiled as you moved even closer to him, and he moved his arm around you. "I'll try and get you some notes from classes." his hand ran up and down your back, it found your tail as he flinched away a little but you moved it back to his hand. 

"Next time, please don't yell at me. I hate it when people argue and my hearing is sensitive."

"Sorry, Darling." a comfortable silence filled the room. "I'm glad you are not sick at least. I was rather worried."

"I still have a tail and ears..."

"They are at least cute." you looked at him before moving your head to his neck. 

"You are cute." you said as you yawned a little. 

"So... should I leave before your boyfriend comes back?"

"He is a big scary Slytherin so... you might want to." you smiled as you moved back to sit.

"As soon as your ears have disappeared, I will take you on a date."

"We don't have to wait! I can wear my hat!" you smiled as he watched your eyes shine. He gave you a nod before you jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. 

"Kitten, take it slow please, I still have a class."

"Oh... will you skip?"

"I mean it is... of course I will." you smiled and resumed brushing your hair. 

You were really excited about this new chapter in your life. 

A boyfriend who accepts you and didn't judge you for being an animagus.

Part 2 SMUT

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₒₚₑᵣₐ ₕₒᵤₛₑ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨.

ᴘᴀɪ��ɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ꜱʜᴇʟʙʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʙᴀʟʟᴇʀɪɴᴀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, Basically the dark side of being a ballerina and the ballet industry of the time, mentions of prostitution/sex work, age gap, semi public sex, kissing, fingering, riding, titty grabbing, lip biting.

A/N: I rewatched the animted short called LOUISE, and I got an idea.

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That night was just like every other performance. It went well, the crowd had seem to love it, specially since it was packed. After the show, your body was aching and you were tired. You had been at the opera house since noon to prepare for the evening show. All you wanted to do was go home and rest, but you promised your friend you'd wait for her since her mother had called her over to 'entertain' a gentlemen who's asked for her.

Another thing about being a ballerina was to please the opera guests. Which were mostly men. It was always 'You be good to them and they'll confiscate you greatly'. For example, get better roles, more classes, get high quality shoes, costumes, make up or even a good work for the teachers. You basically had to do what they wanted no questions asked. That's why half of your classmates were very sweet to the patrons who asked for their attentions. It was the harsh reality, but what could you do? The men frequented and funded the opera. If they were to give a complaint to the owner or teachers. You can kiss your career and hard work goodbye for good.

You did have to entertain some guests, but everything changed when you had caught the eye of Thomas Shelby. Out of all the other women, he choose you. Since then, no other patron dared to ask for you. In a way, you were always reserved for Thomas. He was very generous to you. Often getting you bigger roles or better roles, good quality shoes along with clothes, more classes, even giving you extra money just for you to have. In some way, you couldn't help but fall in love with him. But at the same time you felt like you couldn't love him. Or at least go around telling everyone you love him, it was a secret of yours.

As you roamed around the back stage, seen the many patrons hanging around the other ballerinas. You were then pulled to the side by someone, once you saw who it was, it was the person you hoped wouldn't bump into. "Minerva." You said, nervously, looking at her. "Do you know why I'm here?" She asked. "Because you missed me?" You teased, but she rolled her eyes. "No time for games, I need the money urgently." She said, making you now nervous. "Urgently? As in tonight? Or tomorrow night?" You asked, but she cut you off before you could say more. "Y/n, I need to pay rent." She said, more sternly and serious. You looked at her, seen that she wasn't playing around. You let out a sigh. "Alright, you'll get it later tonight." You said, seen how Minerva was now more relaxed by hearing you say that you'll have the money later tonight. "Thank you." She said, about to walk away, but stopped and looked at you. "Don't forget." She reminded you and walked away. You couldn't help but sigh and leaned against the wall she had you pinned against. Now you had to find Thomas.

You first looked in the small ballroom, which was flooded with both patrons and ballerinas. Talking and enjoying the champagne being served. You analyzed the room, seen how the men were being very touchy with your classmates and how they'd giggle, as well as run their hands on the men's chest or arm. Deep down, you knew that they'd only pretended to like the men just so that they didn't have any problems. No sign of Thomas anywhere, then you spotted one of the girl's that lives with you. "Hey, have you seen Thomas?" You asked her. She thought for a moment. "No, I haven't. Last time I saw him, he went back stage." She said, you then sigh in annoyance. "Why don't you go with someone else." She suggested, then you let out a small chuckle. "Someone else? You know how Thomas would feel about that, they'd be a blood bath." You told her. "Anyways, thanks." You said to her, then walking off backstage to find him.

As you walked back stage, they were girls just sitting and chatting amongst each other. Avoiding the attention of the patrons. The more you looked around, you heard moans as well as other noises going on behind closed doors. As well as talking and so on. When you spotted a mirror, you stopped to fix yourself a bit, such as fixing your hair and attire to look presentable when you found Thomas. As you continued to search, you asked a group of ladies talking and asked if they've seen Thomas, again, no. So you decided to go upstairs to maybe see if he was there. You couldn't help but over hear a conversation going on with a group of gentlemen, about how he ended up loosing money. When you continued to way up the stairs, you then bumped into the man you were searching for. "Oh! Tommy, I was looking for you." You said, with a small smile. "Y/n, I was hoping I'd find you." He responded, while placing his hand onto your sort cheek to feel his skin against yours.

You then pulled him towards the darker part of the stairs, where there was no light or prying eyes. Once you and him were alone, Thomas pulled your body against his, him wrapping his arms around your waist and your arms wrapping themselves around his neck. You and him then engaged in a kiss, it went from slow to desperate. As if he'd been craving to kiss you for the longest time, you couldn't help but moan against his lips, as his tongue rubbed against yours. Then you felt how he gently bit your bottom lip. Causing your whole body to burn up and the heat between your legs to get stronger. You felt how his hand began to run up your spin and touched feel the warmth of your naked back. After some kissing, Thomas then pulled you down with him. Sitting on the step of the stairs and you on his lap.

He pulled away, beginning to kiss your neck. Making you moan and quiver underneath him. You felt his hand other free hand going underneath your puffy long skirt. Feeling up on your thighs, caressing the soft material of your tights. It made you purr as you felt him touch and grab at you. It made you feel as if you were the only woman in his life, but you knew deep down that was wrong. but it didn't hurt to imagine that. You then felt how his other hand went underneath your skirt right onto your crotch area and ripped your tights apart. Exposing your now wet panties. Making you gasp. "Tommy! Those are expensive!" You whispered, still in shock that he'd ripped your tights, that you had been saving up to get. "No worries love, you know I'll get you new ones." He said, which was true.

You let out a small moan, feeling how his hand gently caressed the wet patch of your silky panties. "Excited already eh?" He teased, with a smirk. He then tore the tights more, to be able to have more access to the waist band of your underwear. Without a moment longer, he shoved his hands down your panties, beginning to tease your now needy and throbbing clit. Making you let out a slightly louder moan by his fingers gently rubbing your clit. You wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders, digging your nails onto his white shirt as he began to thrust his middle and ring finger inside you. "Tommy." You moaned, as you closed your eyes, feeling his fingers pumping in and out of you as if this was the first time he's done it.

"Oh!" You whined, feeling your legs beginning to shake and sweat building up on your forehead. Just by him fingering, you were left weak. You then felt his fingers leave your now drenched cunt, making you whine in annoyance. Quickly Thomas unbuckled his pants and pulled out his now hard cock, out of nowhere, he thrusted into you. Making you throw your head back and let out an even louder moan. Without another moment, he began to thrust into you. You were basically holding onto him as if your life dependent on it. Thomas wrapped his arm around your lower half and held you in place. You felt his lips going right back to your neck, kissing and slightly biting onto your flesh. It's been forever since you and him engaged in this. You were too focused on the pleasure given and receiving, that you had completely forgot your whole purpose on why you needed Thomas.

All that could be heard was your moans and his breath heavying. Echoing on the empty stairs, basically giving away what we were both doing. But it was nothing that the others in the opera house haven't heard before. "T-Tommy!" You moaned, as your nails dug harder onto his shirt. Feeling how his cock was now slamming in and out of you. At a delicious and hard pace. You also felt how he rubbed your clit at a hard and pressured pace. Non stop, despite his hand getting sore. Your walls clamped around him tightly, making him groan. Knowing you were close to cumming and so was he. His pace got faster and hard, making you mewl and whine by the now. You then began to move your hips up and down as a way to help you and him reach your climate. You also felt his not so busy hand was grabbing at your breast, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipple every now and then as a form of teasing you. A whole wave of pleasure hit your body like a train, you felt youself cumming right around him. Having you let out a pleasurable shriek. Feeling yourself nearly collapsing on Thomas. He then pulled out before he could cum inside you, instead he cummed right on your thighs.

Afterwards, you back in the dressing room, alone. Tire and even more sore then before. You leaned against the wooden pillar. Thinking about the moment you and Thomas shared, it felt special during the moment, but afterwards, it felt almost wrong. It made you sad in some way, but there was nothing you could do. You then heard the door open, seen the ballerinas walking in, to get changed back into their regular attire. You met up with your friend again, who came up to you and greet you. You then helped her get out of her costume as you had small talk. "So, who did your mother find?" You asked, while unbuttoning her dress. "Yeah, an old guy." She said, with an annoyed look. "Old huh? Your mother has bad taste." You teased. "Right?" She said, as she began to undress from her costume.

"So, what did you do as you waited for me?" She asked. "Not much, just getting the money that Minerva needed to pay the rent of this month." You explained. "So, you spent your evening with Thomas?" She teased, while giggling. Making you roll your eyes. Then you spotted Minerva walk by. "Hold on a sec." You told your friend who was busy changing. You went up to Minerva, who was also changing. "Here you go." You said, handing her the small envelop of cash. She took it and began to count the money. "Thanks." She said, before you could walk off to change you were stopped. "Hold on." She said, then she handed you some money. "This is yours." Minerva said, while handing you the extra money you decided to leave in there. "Are you sure? I mean, that's for next months rent and-" You were cut off by her. "Don't worry about it, besides. You've earned it." She simply said, you hesitantly took the money. It was enough to buy youself some food or maybe those tights Thomas tore, youo gave Minerva a smile then walked off to get changed.

The next morning, back at the house you and the rest of your housemates were having breakfast together. Talking and gossiping about last night and how it went. Until the door got knocked, Minerva want to answer it, as you all continued to eat, then you heard her call your name. You excused yourself from the table and went to the door entrance. Minerva had a small gift box in hand. "You called?" You asked. "This came for you." She said, handing you the box. You took the box and thanked her, she then left back to the dinning room. You looked at the box for a moment, then you opened it to see what was inside. It was a pair of tights with a small not on it. You took the note and read it. 'For you -Thomas Shelby' It a simple note, but it was sweet. You couldn't help but smile and your face heat up.

[sunny-mercya]

A mere Human

Sting Eucliffe x Male Reader

Fandom -> Fairy Tail

Masterlist

When Sting had meet you—accidentally during one of his missions—he thought, you too were a child of the dragons. With your complexion of beauty and the way you spoke, so mighty end elegantly as if you belonged to a upperclass—royalty even—family, you easily could be counted as such.

You weren't.

Sting notice that soon enough, bringing a roar—one of deep buried down in the guts—of anger out of him. Not because of you, you weren't at faults here, but at your "Master" or to be more precisely—your handler.

The handler, who had requested the help—and belonged to a guild, which was more a tribe of fanatics worshippers and dark mages—had asked Sting to help him bring you closer to the true power of the Water-Dragon.

You weren't an actual child of the Dragons—like Rouge, Natsu or him—you're just a mere human. Meant to be sacrificed to the deities above.

Sting was baffled, couldn't understand how humans could be so absurd cruel to their own kind. Neither did he understand the ritual they were doing to you. Though what Sting understood—a sort of desire, like a small flame it felt like—that he had to save you. Even if it meant buying you. Prices, how ever high, wouldn't matter to him.

The price was high, so ridiculous high that it took Rouge and Minerva 4 hours to bring it down to an affordable price of 50,000 Jewels (original price, 9950,000,00) for you and Sting had proudly claimed it had been worth all these Jewels.

~~~

Half a year later since Sting had brought you into freedom and yet you're still the same skittish boy with an servant like mindset, when he first had met you and it drove Sting always into a fit of upcoming anger.

Rouge had reminded him over and over again, that it would take some time, effort and patience to break those patterns from you—but Sting wasn't known to be a patience person and when he had cornered you—one day when you were about to clean something again—you got into fright so much that you wailed shrill into a sobbing and released a weeks downpour of heavy rain.

Sting pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it slightly to ease the pressuring ache of annoyance which keeps building up. Just watching you, how you kneeled on the floor—head down, which gives your neck and back pain again and Sting knows that means another steaming hot bath, looking focused on some simple old card game in front of you—was turning the once felt annoyance into anger again.

Of course, Sting was and would never be angry at you—only at your past handlers, who made you into this mess of anxious fright and dumbly strict following every rule and command—but sometimes the fuel of up staggering annoyances, does made it look like as if Sting was angry with you.

»Oi! [Name], how about we take a stroll around town?«

»We can't, Master Sting. It's getting dark and it rains.«

Sting wanted to laugh at the paradoxical answer you gave him. Someone like you, who could—even when it's unintentional—do weather magic, was not a fan of rain is surely a silly thing to say.

He didn't laughed, decided to sigh out instead. Knowing well the story behind your distaste of rain, which he truthfully had gotten from Minerva—because somehow, for whatever reason, you spoke more with Rouge and Minerva than him and it makes Sting only slightly jealous.

Being forced to create a heavy downpour and than having to sit in said rain for month, was a new form of punishment—Sting didn't knew existed till now.

»Fine. At least sit on the bed to look at those stupid cards. Please.« Sting scoffed

Wordlessly you scoped up the cards in your hands and stood up—making your bones crack and snap sickeningly loud—taking a seat on the bed, next to Sting and holding the card deck now—letting a silence emit between the two of you.

Sting sprung up from the bed, turning to you and ripping the cards out of your hands—throwing them onto the ground, making them scatter around in a mess—face visible morphing into a violent expression of rage.

»Why are you like this?! Why can't you be normal for once, huh?! You know what, don't fucking answer at all! I have enough, fucking enough!«

With an uproar of curses and nasty words towards you, Sting took ahold of your wirst, gripping them tightly and pulling you up—with such a force, that a whine escaped your lips—from the bed and out of the room.

Marching through the guild towards the front door with you, Sting sneered at everyone who comes across his way—especially at Rouge and Minerva, who came running to him and demanding to let you go.

»Sting. Let [Name] go.«

»And why should I?«

»Because you're frightening him.«

»Oh really? Well, that's the only thing he's good enough for, being a little whiny boy. He's so fucking useless and pathetic, annoys me to no end!«

»Sting! Don't you dare!« but Rouge's objections to whatever Sting was planning to do with you, felt on deaf ears.

Sting had opened the door, throwing you outside into the rainy darkness—telling you not to dare to come back inside at all, if you hadn't learned to be useful.

~~~

The heavy downpour—filled with so much sadness—hadn't stopped even weeks after, flooding the riverbanks and streets into a small ocean like lake—the water almost knee high and fishes already been seen swimming in it.

Minerva stood before you, umbrella held above the both of you, looking down at you—and your bone drenched, shivering and trembling mess of bodily limps form—with an expression of minimal sympathy and concern.

In Minerva eyes, you looked rather pathetic and pitiful—a weakling like a newborn is what you are—but that's your charm, Minerva mused, which makes her—kinda, in a sibling like way, after all you too are a child of the water—like you.

»Don't you want to come back inside?« she asks, voice lacking from any kind emotion to speak.

Rouge and Minerva had tried many times, to convince you to come back inside, but all their attempts had been futile—as you didn't want to leave your spot, wouldn't bug with whatever way of sugarcoating and bribery they tried—and they both came to the point, where neither of them wanted to continue with such time consuming wasting.

»No. I can't. Not till Master Stings allows me to.« you uttered in a whisper, voice hoarsely meek.

Minerva sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head—should have expected your standard answer.

Despite what Sting had said to you, Minerva knew he hadn't exactly—really not all—meant it in such way, not fully at least—only a small portion of it perhaps, but otherwise it was just the anger which spoke volumes out of Sting.

But without you, Sting was a mess too—lounging around and nagging about boredom and how lonely—especially in bed, without his personal heater and cuddle buddy, which he only begrudgingly admits—he felt, but Sting is too proud and arrogant—in his own selfish way—to say such things, those signs of weakness for a an might Dragon-Slayer, out loud.

»Alright. I come by later then.« Minerva walked away and leaving you by your lonesome once again.

If Sting, Minerva mused in her thoughts—while getting back inside the guild—only wouldn't be so egotistical dumb.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays! Something from the Professor Riddle universe?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

"Harry asked me about Sirius."

Tom glances up, slumped at the kitchen table and waiting for Myrtle’s hangover cure to kick in. He has got to stop drinking with Ruby, especially with his ex-wife and Minerva. It never ends well for him.

Regulus sips his coffee, a smirk on the corner of his mouth although he’s thankfully keeping his thoughts on his haggard appearance to himself. He never looks closer to his actual age than after a night of drinking. Ruby, perversely, looks even younger. Tom is convinced that he’s maintaining his youthful appearance through pickling. The half giant part is probably a not insignificant contributor, but he’s convinced it’s the moonshine doing the heavy lifting.

“What did you say?”

He shrugs. “The truth. There’s really not much to say, is there? It’s not like it’s a secret that that lot was convinced that Dumbledore wasn’t that bad, despite the death count.”

“To be fair,” he says and Regulus groans, “we didn’t know it was him for a long time.”

“You did,” he returns.

Yes, but he cheated. “He meant well.”

Regulus stares. “Dad. A lot of people died.”

“Well, sometimes things have to be sacrificed for the greater good,” he says, mouth twisting. “I think Grindewald – broke him. A little. And he wasn’t wrong, probably. Starting a war designed to kill everyone who’s politics you disagree with probably would have ended in some sort of utopia. For him, at least.”

“I don’t get why you still defend him,” he sighs. “You killed him!”

He hadn’t wanted to.

“Seems only right that I defend him then, doesn’t it? It’s the least I can do.”

[defectivevillain]

scar-crossed lovers

pairing: Severus Snape/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

summary: “This really isn’t necessary,” you feel the need to say, once you realize that Severus is going to apply the burn paste for you. “I’m perfectly capable-” You break off at the cynical expression on his face, which suggests exactly how incapable he thinks you are.

word count: 2.7k | ao3 version

this work is technically in a series, so feel free to read the other parts and then come back :3

warnings: first-degree burns

Potions was one of your least favorite subjects as a Hogwarts student. You weren’t necessarily bad at brewing, but you weren’t quite skilled at it either. The pressure to follow precise instructions coupled with the subsequent risk of injury that came with errors made it a hard class for you to enjoy. You didn’t have enough confidence in your abilities to proceed through Potions with conviction, and that showed through in your classwork. You often brewed the Potions correctly, but it took you twice as long as it took your classmates. 

Thankfully, your Potions days are long behind you. You’re the Ancient Runes professor at Hogwarts and acting Head of Hufflepuff House—and neither of those roles require an extensive knowledge of Potions. You’re more than content to leave the art of Potions to Severus Snape, the current Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. You’re secretly relieved that you left Potions back in your school years. You’d much rather continue practicing and researching the subject you’re skilled at—Ancient Runes—than meddle with Potions.

The universe seems dead-set on spiting you, however, because you soon find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position. Minerva is regarding you with an expectant gaze, evidently waiting for you to respond to her statement. You have to put a conscious effort towards remembering what she’s requested of you. 

Severus will be away for the next few school days, in order to attend an international Potions conference. Since the Potions Master will be absent, the castle will need a substitute to stand in his place. You’re not exactly surprised that Minerva is asking you to fill in for Severus—you teach an elective course for upper-years, which means that you have less classes to teach than your colleagues. You have enough time in your schedule to fill in for Severus. The thought of returning to the dungeons for Potions isn’t quite savory, but you know you’ll manage. Besides, you’ll be the professor, not the student. You won’t actually have to brew anything; instead, you’ll be supervising the students’ creations.

“I can do it,” you tell Minerva. The Transfiguration professor thanks you and the tension seems to leave her shoulders. For the rest of your meeting, the two of you review the lesson plans Severus left and discuss any potential obstacles. You leave feeling both nervous and excited. 

To your surprise, however, your Potions classes proceed rather well. The first day flies by without incident and you find yourself feeling strangely validated. You had anticipated there to be a struggle with maintaining your authority, especially with the younger classes of students whom you haven’t gotten to know yet. However, everything went rather smoothly. There were a few hiccups here and there, but you managed to handle them well. Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.

Of course, the moment you begin to relax, something goes wrong. In hindsight, perhaps you should’ve expected mishaps from the second year Slytherins and Gryffindors—the two Houses usually don’t get along well, and the students are fairly young. But, you don’t have a choice in the matter—you have to supervise them, since Severus is absent. Safe to say, within a few moments of starting class, you’re developing a headache. 

The class is currently learning how to brew Strengthening Solution. You copy the recipe from the textbook onto the board with large handwriting and provide a few general tips, before allowing the students to pair up and begin brewing. By the end of the period, each pair should present a Strengthening Solution for grading.

Strengthening Solution is far from a difficult brew, but you still spot a few pairs having trouble. You eventually decide to pace around the classroom in circles, keeping your eyes peeled for raised hands or confused looks. Malfoy is doing well—unsurprising, considering that he’s apparently one of the top of the class. The same goes for Granger. Zabini and Nott seem to know what they’re doing. Weasley seems torn between attempting to slice his ingredients and cheating off of Granger. There aren’t any noticeable fights brewing amongst the students, which is a plus. Malfoy and Potter have a rather bitter rivalry, from what you’ve heard. 

Someone is trying to get your attention, though. You break away from your thoughts and walk over to the student, who is raising their hand diligently. “What’s the next ingredient?” A boy you recognize to be Neville Longbottom asks. You peek down into his cauldron, frowning when you notice it’s the wrong color. 

“What have you done so far?” You ask him. Longbottom recounts the steps he’s taken and you manage to find where he left off. “Salamander blood is next, Mr. Longbottom,” you answer him. Longbottom exchanges a worried look with Finnigan, his lab partner. Dread coils in your chest. The two of them look scared.

“Salamander?” Longbottom asks, his eyes wide. 

“Yes,” you respond. The shocked look on Longbottom’s face does not inspire confidence. You grimace and take another sidelong glance at the cauldron, surprised to find that the color has since changed. Just what did Longbottom put in the concoction?

You don’t have time to find out, as the cauldron bubbles ominously. Within the blink of an eye, the cauldron is spitting boiling hot liquid everywhere. You quickly shove Longbottom to the side and turn to conjure a shield. Your arm is prickling and aching, but you ignore the sensation and focus on containing the potion’s unexpected eruption. Thankfully, you manage to prevent any harm to the other students—which is most important. A nullifying spell calms the bubbling potion back down, and you quickly send Longbottom to the infirmary before instructing the class to finish brewing and turn in what they have. Despite the mishaps with Longbottom’s brewing, the majority of the class seems to have finished the Strengthening Solution unimpeded. Once the students are dismissed, you turn your attention to the now-melted cauldron and try your best to repair it. After a few minutes of concentration, you manage to somewhat restore it. At the very least, it’s functional. Longbottom will just have to deal with it. 

You finish cleaning the table up, before wiping the sweat from your brow and taking a deep breath. That was a close call—your heart is still racing. There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t contained the potion in time. Thank Merlin for small mercies, you suppose. 

It takes several moments for your adrenaline to fade away, and the feeling is then replaced with a strange prickling along your forearm. You frown and pull up your shirt sleeve, hissing as it rubs against your chafed and burnt skin. It seems not everyone escaped unscathed. Truthfully, though, you’re glad you’re the one injured—and not any of the students (aside from Longbottom, who is likely being chewed out by Madam Pomfrey right now). 

You know a few minor healing spells, but they hardly do anything to get rid of the harsh burn that seems to tear its way up your arm. You don’t really want to go to the infirmary—you know Poppy would have no qualms about telling you exactly how reckless and foolish you were. You suppose you could raid Severus’s Potions stash… but you don’t have a death wish. Severus is very possessive of his Potions, and you know he’d flip once he returned and noticed that something was missing. You inhale slowly and take a moment to process everything that just happened. 

Your brief reprieve doesn’t last very long, as a student enters the classroom and breaks you out of your thoughts. You cast a minor pain relief spell and quickly roll your shirt sleeve back down. Before long, you’re too busy greeting the next class of students to pay much attention to your injury.

Thankfully, your remaining lessons are uneventful. It isn’t until your final class is over and you start to walk to the dining hall that you remember the burn itching at your skin. The pain nullification spell has worn off and you cast another, idly hoping that it’ll somehow get rid of the burn entirely. You don’t really have the luxury to devote time to your wound—you need to finalize your lesson plans for the coming week and grade some essays that the fifth-years turned in. You spend dinner lost in thought, planning out how you’re going to spend the rest of your day. 

It’s really a shame that your plan falls into obscurity the moment you leave the Great Hall. You can’t be more than a few steps down the hall before you feel a presence at your side. You chance a sidelong glance at your newfound companion, relaxing when you realize it’s Severus. 

“Hey, Severus,” you greet him, unable to stop the small smile that works its way onto your face. You’re happy to see him. Severus nods and begins to walk at your side. You’re heading back to your office, and you suppose he is going to be returning to his office too. “Glad you’re back. How was the conference?” 

The Potions professor huffs. “There was a veritable mix of bright minds and complete fools,” he remarks with a dark glare pointed ahead. You have to stifle your amusement at the gesture. Severus doesn’t seem keen to elaborate further on the sentiment.

“That sounds about right,” you hum, recalling what you’ve heard about the conference in passing. “Your classes did pretty well. Only one cauldron blew up.” Severus lets out a long-suffering sigh, evidently thinking about all the cauldrons that will blow up across the duration of the school year. You can’t help but smile at his exasperation. Admittedly, you share some of it too—especially since the incident yesterday. 

“Thank you for watching over my classes,” Severus says, apropos of nothing. There’s no hint of anything other than sincerity in his voice. You raise an eyebrow at the realization. His lips quirk up ever so slightly and, Merlin, is that a smile? He surprises you even more by placing a hand on your forearm. Ordinarily, you’d appreciate the friendly gesture, but his grip falls right on your untreated burn and you have to wince. Immediately, his eyes are squinted in suspicion. You try to tug your arm back, but his grip is tight on your wrist—thankfully, away from the burn. The professor’s infamous scowl returns. “What did you do?”

You resolutely keep your mouth shut. Unfortunately, Severus isn’t the least bit discouraged. Instead, he grabs your sleeve and delicately rolls it up. The marred skin on your forearm is revealed and Severus shakes his head in irritated disbelief. 

“To be fair, I didn’t do anything,” you feel the need to establish. Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. You decide to continue speaking, even though his expression is quickly turning from annoyed to fuming. “Remember the cauldron I mentioned? Yes, well… Mr. Longbottom had a bit of an accident.”

Severus’s grip on your wrist becomes bruising and you hiss. He removes his hand, but the indignant expression on his face doesn’t fade. His fists are clenched at his sides and his scowl is the angriest you’ve seen. It looks as if he’s moments away from stalking over to the Gryffindor Common Room and taking points from the Longbottom boy. 

“Severus,” you chide him. You’ve been meaning to talk to him about his treatment of Neville Longbottom. The Gryffindor is absolutely terrified of the Potions professor. Now that you’re on the topic, you might as well mention it. “Actually-” The rest of the words disintegrate on your tongue, as you catch the murderous expression on the professor’s face. He glares at you and you fall silent. Now might not be the best time, you realize. 

Severus starts to walk away. He doesn’t offer a single word of explanation, but you follow after him because it seems like the right thing to do. A few moments later, you find yourself standing in front of his Potions stores. Severus lets out a long suffering sigh and climbs the ladder to the top shelf with practiced ease, grabbing Burn-Healing Paste and another vial before shouldering past you in the doorway. You take a step back and watch him lock the space, before following him into his office. It takes you a few moments to realize why he hasn’t dismissed you yet. 

“This really isn’t necessary,” you feel the need to say, once you realize that Severus is going to apply the paste for you. “I’m perfectly capable-” You break off at the cynical expression on his face, which  suggests exactly how incapable he thinks you are. Severus silently takes a few steps forward, leaving you to hesitantly backpedal until you’re forced to lean back against his desk. He makes quick work of rolling up your sleeve; you’re not given even a word of warning before the paste is being deposited onto your arm. You manage to keep quiet, despite the sudden shock. The paste is weirdly cold, and it almost immediately soaks into your skin. You stare down at it in fascination. 

“Thank you, Severus-” You move to get up, only for your colleague to push you back with a firm hand. You let your free hand fall to the desk behind you, feeling a sudden urge to brace yourself. Severus doesn’t seem to pay you any mind, as his gaze is honed in on your forearm. He procures the vial from earlier and picks up the pipette to place the amber liquid on your skin. At your questioning gaze, Severus explains. 

“Anti-scarring solution.”

“Severus, I don’t care if it scars,” You try to say. 

“Merlin forbid you mar your flawless skin,” Severus interjects, complete with a scoff and an intense eye-roll. The wording sounds a little familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it. Once you realize that he’s repeating something Lockhart said to you a few days ago— “You have such flawless skin!” —you can’t help but choke on a quiet laugh. 

“He’s rather friendly, isn’t he?” You muse aloud. Severus visibly stiffens at that, for some reason. Tension suddenly settles in the air, heavy and palpable amidst the quiet of his office. You can’t help but feel as if you’ve just done something wrong—you’re just not sure what it is. 

“More than friendly,” Severus states mildly. You want to ask him about the unreadable expression on his face (and the inexplicable glimmer in his eyes), but he places a healthy amount of salve on your arm and you flinch at the stinging sensation it creates. Lockhart had touched your forearm there, too. Whilst his touch incited disgust and discomfort within you, Severus’s touch makes your heart race. 

“Okay, thank you-” You try to escape again, feeling a bit flustered by the intense gaze he has pointed at you. The Potions professor doesn’t respond verbally, instead leveling you with such a malicious glare that any more objections fall to dust in your mouth. Severus returns his attention to your forearm, a roll of bandages in one hand as the other hand gently extends your arm. A shiver rolls down your spine. Time drags on like a viscous sludge, and you’re a prisoner to its whims. All you can hear is Severus’s calm, measured breaths; all you see is the careful manner with which he handles you, as if you’re made of glass. 

“Thank you, Severus.” You breathe once the bandages are secured around your forearm. You swear you feel his hands linger for the briefest of moments, but you put it down to your imagination. At a loss for words, you end up bidding him a good night and retreating to your own office. Even as you try to immerse yourself in grading your class’s essays, the weight of Severus’s touch and the pressure of his gaze refuses to leave your mind’s eye. You fall asleep that night with your arm prickling, both from the salve and from Severus’s attentive, careful grasp earlier.

The next day, you’re set free from your supervisory duties. While the few days you spent as Potions professor were enjoyable, you’re very relieved they’re over. You’d much rather devote attention to Ancient Runes—a subject you feel you’re more qualified to teach. It’s also nice to have your free periods back. You take the chance to study up on some recent scholarship and walk about the castle, taking in the fresh air that the spring brings. 

Unbeknownst to you, during Potions class with the second-years, Gryffindor House loses a hundred points. When you hear the news at dinner, you can’t help but laugh. You then glance at Severus, unsurprised to find a vindictive smirk tugging at his lips. 

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[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Incantation

@wolfstarmicrofic June 1, word count 855

A continuation that is definitely going to end up as a mini-series, (I can't help myself 🤣) of Summer Camp AU. It's been taking up space in my head since I wrote it and I need to write more so here we go 😁

First part

As they neared the wiggling legs, Sirius rushed forward and launched himself onto the back of a tall raven-haired boy with glasses. He wrapped his legs around his waist and demanded a piggyback.

“James, come meet Remus,” Sirius told James as he tried to turn the boy’s head away from the upside-down legs. James turned around and grinned a broad smile at Remus. 

“Hi, Remus, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. This is Peter,” he pointed at the base of the willow tree. “He’d say hello as well, but he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.” James and Sirius burst into laughter as the feet kicked out angrily and a muffled voice shouted at them. Remus could only guess that it was a stream of profanities aimed at James. 

“Hi,” He said, shyly. He wasn’t used to talking to people his own age. He didn’t have any friends, and he’d spent most of his childhood talking to nurses. 

“Remus, you look like a smart fella,” James began speaking to him again, the smile on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture. “We really don’t want to have to go tell Minnie we did something dumb again, so do you think you could help us pull Peter out?” Remus looked at the slightly pudgy boy in the ground and hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough. He’d always been frail, it was only recently since the doctors finally figured out what was wrong with him that he’d started to put on muscle mass. 

“I’ll-I’ll try,” He moved towards Peters's bottom half and inspected the hole. “I think we might need to dig a bit of the edge out, widen the hole. Maybe soften the soil with water.” He mused aloud.

“Remus, I think we’re going to get along famously,” James said as he awkwardly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It took everything in him not to flinch away from the touch. 

“Let the poor boy go,” Sirius grunted as he pulled at James’s arm. They ended up tumbling to the floor as Sirius looped his foot around James’s leg, trying to find purchase. 

Once they’d dusted themselves off, they started working on freeing Peter. Sirius had found a sturdy stick that he was using to gently poke around where Peter was stuck, dislodging pieces of earth. James poured three bottles of water over Peter, and they grabbed Peter’s legs. 

Remus and Sirius had the left one and James had the right on his own. He tried not to think about how close Sirius was to him.

“Right ready? On three. One. Two. Three!” They heaved and he didn’t budge an inch. “Damn it! He’s not coming loose!” James huffed as he loosened his grip on Peter’s leg. 

“That’s because we haven’t said the incantation.” Sirius raised his stick, pretending it was a magic wand. “Bibbidi bobbidi boo!” He chanted and slapped the stick across Peter’s arse. The ground vibrated with Peter’s angry yelling. 

“Sirius!” James chastised. “Okay, let’s try again. On three. One. Two. Three!” They pulled as hard as they could and, with a grunt, Peter came loose. James helped him to his feet and tried to dust him off. Peter flapped his arms at James, slapping him away. 

“Thanks for getting me out,” Peter finally said as he rubbed dirt from his eyes. “Remus, you’re my new best friend.” Remus didn’t know what to say to that, so he just bobbed his head.

“What is all the commotion going on over here?” A stern voice said behind them. There were suddenly four very straight backs. 

“Minnie, my love, nothing’s going on. I’m just introducing Remus to everyone.” Sirius turned to look at the woman standing behind them and took on a relaxed stance and plastered on the most dazzling smile Remus had ever seen. 

“Mr Black, I have warned you about calling me by that name. It is Minerva or Ms McGonagall.” Sirius didn’t seem the least bit put off by her words. “Why exactly is Mr Pettigrew covered in dirt?” She asked, her nostrils flaring. 

“I’m sorry Ms McGonagall,” Peter began, apologising, “James and I were talking, and I wasn’t paying attention and fell in the hole. James, Sirius and Remus helped me out.” He smiled weakly at the second in command of the camp. 

“Uhuh,” She hummed, clearly not believing a word. “Mr Lupin,” She said, turning to Remus. He bristled at being addressed. “Welcome to Camp Hogwarts, I advise you not to get in too deep with these miscreants.” Sirius and James dramatically feigned outrage. She smiled warmly at him, ignoring James and Sirius. “If they give you any trouble come and find me.” She glared at the other three and spun around to yell at another group of boys dragging bedsheets around the camp.

“Don’t worry, Remus,” Sirius grinned at him. “We’re not that bad.” Remus followed the three boys into the cabin, thinking maybe the two weeks wouldn’t be quite as bad with the four of them. That was when Sirius turned around and winked at him. He felt his stomach flip. Or not.

Next part

[multifandomfix]

They Walk In On You Changing (Harry Potter Preference)

Barty Crouch Jr: Barty would freeze for a moment, his lips curling into a smirk as he takes in the scene. “Well, well, what do we have here,” he’d drawl, licking his lips. He wouldn’t be embarrassed, instead reveling in making you feel flustered. He might linger a bit longer than is polite, before leaving with a wink.

Bellatrix LeStrange: Bellatrix wouldn’t be flustered at all at her intrusion on you, in fact, she’d laugh maniacally. “Oh, darling, don’t stop on my account,” she’d say with a grin. There’s a wild glint in her eyes as she looks you over. She’d probably only leave once she feels she’s gotten a real good look and committed the view to memory.

Draco Malfoy: Draco would immediately flush a deep shade of red, stammering apologies as he turns his back. “I—I didn’t see anything, I swear,” he’d blurt out, trying to keep his cool but failing miserably. He’d be mortified at the situation because of the embarrassment it may have caused you. Though you’d likely catch him stealing glances at you in the future, remembering the incident and giving away that he had seen something.

Lucius Malfoy: Lucius would maintain a cool composure, as if the sight doesn’t faze him in the least. He might raise an eyebrow in mild interest, but he’d quickly avert his eyes and advise you, “Perhaps next time you should ensure the door is locked.” There’s a note of superiority in his voice, and he’d leave as though nothing had happened, though with a hint of amusement on his lips.

Minerva McGonagall: Professor McGonagall would be horrified at her lack of decorum. She’d immediately avert her gaze, sternly apologizing while turning to leave. “My deepest apologies,” she’d say in a clipped tone, flustered but maintaining her usual formality. She’d be more embarrassed than you, and would likely be extra formal with you for a while afterward.

Molly Weasley: Molly would immediately cover her eyes with her hands and let out a mortified gasp. “Oh dear! I’m so sorry, love!” she’d exclaim, clearly more distressed by the situation than you are. She’d rush out of the room, mumbling apologies, and probably fuss over you later, asking if you’re alright or need anything, still embarrassed by what happened.

Narcissa Malfoy: Narcissa’s reaction would be swift and graceful. She’d quickly turn away and politely say, “Forgive me, I should have knocked.” She would be calm and composed, making you feel like the whole thing was an unfortunate but trivial matter. She’d leave you with your dignity intact, ensuring there’s no awkwardness between you later.

Rita Skeeter: Rita would be intrigued more than anything else. Her eyes would widen in interest, and she’d quickly take in every detail. “Well, this is quite the sight,” she’d say with a sly grin, already crafting a scandalous headline in her mind. She’d linger a bit too long for comfort, leaving with a smug expression and a vivid picture of you in her mind.

Severus Snape: Snape would freeze in place, his expression shifting from surprise to mild discomfort. His usual sharp demeanor softens, and though he keeps his face impassive, there’s a flicker of awkwardness in his eyes. “My apologies,” he would say in a low, measured tone, quickly turning away and closing the door behind him. He’d make a mental note to avoid eye contact for a while afterward, clearly unsettled but determined to act like it never happened.

Sybill Trelawney: Trelawney would gasp dramatically and flutter her hands in distress. “Oh dear, the fates did not forewarn me of this encounter,” she’d exclaim, looking genuinely flustered. She’d apologize profusely, making strange references to “mystical energies” that led her to walk in at that moment. She’d be more awkward than you, and would not forgive herself for her intrusion for some time.

For Anon

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[manifesting-minerva]

Ghosts & Banshees (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader) - Part 1

Author's Note: I welcome you all to my blog. It has been ages since I wrote fanfiction on here but I thought I should get back in it. I used to have a fanfiction blog back in 2016 where I wrote for multiple fandoms but ended up deleting my blog in 2021. I got obsessed with Call of Duty (I never played it but Ghost and König set a wild fire in me) so I thought I'd give it a shot. Naturally, I'm not an expert when it comes to the games or anything related to the military so mainly it's from research I did. Enjoy this piece (might write additional parts in the future if it does well). - Minerva 🐦‍⬛

Summary: An old friend of John Price joins the 141 team, by his recommendation.

Warnings: Mild language, alcohol ingestion, inaccuracies when it comes to military.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Monday morning. Bright and early, the men of Task Force 141 woke up at the crack of dawn. Their body's internal clock had gotten used to them waking up at 5am but the booze they indulged themselves in the previous night had taken a bit of a roll on the aforementioned "internal clock".

Nonetheless, with their bodies soaked in sleep and taking heavy steps, they made their way down to the base's mess hall, trying to eat away the hangover they manifested the night before. Johnny and Kyle were wiping their foreheads, trying to soothe the aching boom in the heads while walking languidly behind them was Ghost who seemed to be sober than them.

"Liver of steel you got there Johnny." Ghost teased the Scot, his British accent thick in sleep as he watched his friend fighting to keep his breakfast down. Gaz wasn't much help to Johnny either as he also chewed his food slowly. Too weak to reply and with little energy, Johnny shot a cold and annoyed gaze at his friend.

Ghost watched the men in front of him as he washed his breakfast down with a cup of black tea. Nothing soothed his soul like a nice cuppa in the morning (or any time of the day).

Minutes had gone by and they exited the mess hall, laughing about the moments they shared the previous night from Price's arm wrestling to Kyle's poor flirting techniques to Johnny's drunk dancing on tables. Ghost always considered himself as he is. A ghost. Watching from the corner silently, occasionally beating Price's unbeaten streak of arm wrestling to pulling Kyle in a chair after embarrassing himself in front of the ladies to pulling down Johnny off the tables and shoving glasses of water in front of him to sober up, convincing him it's a type of vodka (which Johnny took enthusiastically).

They reached Price's office who jumped off his chair when he watched his men enter, trying to compose himself with a big smile on his face. "Good morning gentlemen." He coughed as he settled with them around the table.

The men adjusted comfortably in their seats, waiting for the meeting to start. "Alright lads, I know last night was tough and thankfully today we don't really have a lot of work to do but we do have a mission coming up in the next few months that would need your undivided attention." He looked over to Johnny who was slowly dosing off in his chair. Ghost, "ever-so-gently", took the initiative to smack his friend in the back of his head, surprising Johnny.

"This should wake you all up." In Price's hand was a manila folder which he planned on the table. "Since this mission is sensitive to say the least, we need a pair of extra hands to help us complete it successfully. Hence why I asked an old friend of mine to assist us in the upcoming mission which she kindly and gladly accepted. She is one of the best snipers and combat fighters I've ever worked with...no offence gents."

"Did he just say 'she'?" Johnny whispered loudly.

"Ah so I do have your attention then Soap!" Price chuckled. "Now you all better keep it in your pants. She is also a medic and I'm sure she'll find a way to castrate you in your sleep if you try something funny. Come in Sergeant Y/N."

And there she was. Standing at 5"4 feet tall in black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that hugged her body nicely. Her soft dark brown hair danced behind her as her brown eyes scanned the room.

"That's not a very nice way to sell me Captain." She chuckled as she made her way over to him. Jaws dropped.

"She has my undivided attention." Johnny whispered to the two men seated next to him. From his cold state, Ghost felt something inside him jolt, like a bullet just fired in his chest. A warm sheet of sweat covered his body, pupils dilated as he watched you and Price hug as he greeted you. No one ever took Price for the "huggy type" person but all formalities flew out the window when he patted her back gently afterwards.

"Welcome Y/N to Task Force 141. We are glad to have you with us. She will also be doing training with the new recruits," Price announced. "Just in case you get bored." He whispered in your ear, chuckling.

Y/N observed the men in front of her when her eyes fell on the only masked man in the room. But before she could introduce herself properly, Johnny bounced from his seat, finding his newly hidden energy.

"I'm Johnny but you can call me Soap." He shook her hand gently and beamed a smile. Kyle was up next.

"I'm Kyle but you can call me "yours"." He said with a small smirk on his face. She swore she felt Price's eyes roll to the back of his head as did the masked man's.

"It's too fuckin' early Gaz." Price scoffed.

"It's Gaz." He said when he received a silent response from the men. A heavy hand landed on Gaz's shoulder and was pulled back. And there he stood at 6"4 feet, dressed in tight fitting black clothes and a balaclava with a painted ghost mask on it with black shadows around his eyes. His fluffy blonde lashes never once fluttered as his eyes were stuck on her, like he's never seen a woman before.

Intrigued by the new member, Ghost approached silently, taking his hand out to introduce himself. Standing tall, towering over her tiny self, he shook her hand.

"Ghost." He said. Short and sweet.

"But you can call him-"

"That's enough Johnny!" Ghost barked.

Once they let go of the handshake, Price stepped in. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave her a tour of the base as well as showing her her sleeping quarters. Her place wasn't big but it was comfortable enough for at least 2 people to live in. A kitchenette, a bathroom, a double bed and a living room with a comfortable couch, TV and a balcony that led to the outside. All she had to do was spice it up with her taste in decorations.

"If you need any help or have questions, we don't bite we're literally next door." Soap offered as he placed her bags in her apartment followed by Gaz. Ghost stood at the frame of the door leaning as he scanned her apartment.

"Thank you gents. I appreciate the warm welcome." She beamed at them.

"If you want, tonight we're heading for a couple of drinks if you want to join us. It's a good opportunity to get to know you a bit more." Gaz said, hoping she'll say yes, to which she did.

***

That evening Task Force 141 gathered around the bar table, downing a pint of Guinness each, laughing along each other's jokes.

"So bonnie," Soap licked the froth from his lips. "What's your code name?"

Y/N raised her eyebrow. "You didn't read my Manila file? I'm impressed at your restraint Soap."

"I'm more of an upfront guy you know. Like to look people in the eyes when I talk to them. He smirked like.

"Do you want to take a guess?" Her lips landed back on her pint of Guinness as she looked around, her eyes landing on Ghost. He is thankful yet again for his balaclava that hid his blush.

"It's Banshee. Price actually suggested it years ago." She chuckled. Price patted himself on the back for this one. "Ay, you're fuckin lethal Y/N." He said sipping on his drink.

"Why do they call you 'Soap' Johnny?" Y/N asked, spinning the subject to the man next to her.

"Let's say I clean up well." He winked at Y/N. "I'm fast, efficient, accurate." While Soap continued praising his agility and the speed he can clean a room and his urban warfare tactics (as Gaz called it "jerking himself off with his own compliments"), Y/N's eyes get again landed on Ghost. His legs splayed open covered in dark jeans and a shirt that was two sizes smaller than his actual size. The way his muscles were ready to rip the sleeves of his shirt, his dark tattoos littering his arms and if her eyes served right, they landed on his crotch where a small bulge could be seen. Immediately averting her eyes when she noticed Ghost's hot gaze on her.

He must hate me. She thought to herself as she diverted her attention back to the rest of the team.

And nothing short could be said about Ghost couldn't take his eyes off her. The way she threw her head back in sweet laughter or the way she punched Soap's arm when he teased her. Or the way her lips gently closed around the rim of the glass and swallowed her beer.

Ghost knew something was about to change.

Ghost knew he was fucked.

[queer-dinos]

Some marauders headcanons;

Remus is tallest, he’s 6’2

James is 5’10-5’11

Regulus is 5’7

Sirius is 5’6

Lily is 5’5

Peter is 5’2

- Lily makes a habit of keeping chocolate in her bag, both for herself and Remus

- Lily’s period actually syncs with the full moon (our most even-keeled members becoming moody messes together every month)

- Lily was originally friends with Remus and Remus only, it took her years to warm up to the Marauders

- Lily is the first person Remus comes out to. She’s his safe space

- Lily and Remus refuse to do chores magically. It drives their pure-blooded boyfriends insane

- Remus likes to take Sirius to muggle record shops. Sirius loves Queen and AC/DC

- one day, Sirius and Regulus decide to switch uniforms for fun. By the end of the day the marauders have managed to convince half the school that Sirius had always been Slytherin and that Regulus had always been Gryffindor. it gets even better when they can easily switch quidditch uniforms as well, as both simply say ‘BLACK’ on the back

- Lily’s last name is actually Evans-Potter, but no one outside of the marauders and Minerva McGonnagal really acknowledges that.

- Jily and Wolfstar buy flats next door to each other. It’s not uncommon to find Sirius and James sleeping on the couch at Chez-Wolfstar, or Remus and Lily having tea in the kitchen of the Evans-Potter house on early mornings.

- Regulus has his own room in Chez-Wolfstar

Ethnicities/Nationalities:

- Sirius and Regulus are French. They’re both fully bilingual and often have conversations completely in French for privacy purposes. Sirius likes to flirt with Remus in French

- Remus is Welsh on his mum’s side, and Polish on his dad’s

- James is 1/2 Indian from his dad’s side, but the Potters had lived in the UK for at least 3 generations before James was born. His mother is British

- Lily is Irish and Dutch, with a little bit of German and French in there too. Her family has lived in Britain for two generations before Lily

- Peter is 1/4 Belgian and 3/4 Dutch

-Lily spent years teaching herself BSL, and taught basic signs to the Marauders

- James is super ADHD

^^^so are the Black brothers, just less severe

- Sirius has severe trauma/PTSD from his parents. There are times where he hides in his bed for 2-3 days. He’s sensitive to loud noises

-Regulus, however, hates silence. It reminds him too much of the times he had to magically soundproof his bedroom when Sirius and their parents got into screaming matches, or worse, to cancel out Sirius’ screams and cries as their mother tortured him

-Sirius and Regulus have tattoos of their constellations

Sexualities/Pronouns:

- James: pan, he/him

- Sirius: gay, he/they

- Regulus: bi, they/he

- Remus: bi, he/him

- Peter: aro/ace, he/him (doesn’t mind they/them tho)

- Lily: pan, she/they

[accio-sriracha]

Dear Mr. Lupin,

I'm not sure if it is with desperate hope or we'll-earned faith that I write you now. Perhaps, it is a bit of both.

Nonetheless, I find myself with a quill in hand, and a memory of a young boy I used to know. A boy I remember being an excellent student, and an even greater friend. I was sure even then that he would grow to be a brilliant mind, a quiet soul, and a welcoming heart.

I am not usually one to brag, but I am very pleased to see how right I was, and how very mature you've become.

I know these have been troubling times, and I wish to impress upon you once again that my door is always open whenever you need me, and not just to discuss our missions from the Order.

Onto the topic of my letter, assuming this finds you well, I have recently been gifted (and I use gifted purposefully) an opening in the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position. I beg of you, Remus, to at least consider applying.

I think it would do you good to be near friends again, and... well, to have a stable roof over your head. I say this out of love, of course.

I know this next bit of information may be the making or breaking of this arrangement, but I feel it dire to inform you regardless.

James and Lily's son will be returning for his third year.

Sometimes it is hard, I will admit, Harry truly does look so much like James. But I think this will do you some good as well, if you'd like to get to know him. You should try to bond with him, you were his parents' best friend after all.

I hope you will consider my offer, you're so very talented, and I would hate to see that talent go to waste.

I'm here if you need anything.

Write me soon,

Minerva McGonagall.