#Whenever I have a bad shift I think about it because it was a magical moment

[starscreamingg]

I keep thinking about this one time at work when I was having just an absolute shit of a time and I went to take the green bin outside and I got out to see these massive flakes of snow falling so softly and I remembered the joys of being alive

[hollowdeath]

Oh hello, I just wanted to tell you that what you wrote is amazing! I read it over and over and couldn't stop reading. You are soooo amazing! *((Ugly crying😭❤️))*

And umm.. I would like to share about the imagination in my head about Dark Harry Potter. He joins the Lord Voldemort and betrayed all his friends. When the war ended, the Lord's side Voldemort wins. Everything is in chaos but Harry ignores it all because he only cares about the reader, his old girlfriend. (Harry still loves the reader even though the reader hates Harry.) He might have requested that the Lord Voldemort gave the reader as a reward to him after the war. Something like that, and ummm, a drama that is both bitter and sad and angry at the same time full of longing for each other? A rough and sad lovemaking? 🥺

hi! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: dark!harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry's all-consuming anger successfully tempts him to join voldemort in the war, sending you, his girlfriend, away in an attempt to keep you safe. years later he asks for your return, and is met with bitterness and rage as you struggle to navigate your feelings for each other in a post-war world.

c/w: smut!!! angst!! slow burn! mentions/threats of weapons, violence, abuse, and death/murder. smut is all the way at the end (grinding, oral, penetration, submissive!harry & dominant!reader) lightly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate

word count: 12.6k

a/n: this is giving me manacled x star wars and i love it lol, so so so much fun to write. i tried to make the reader more angst-y and dominant than normal, so if you like this please let me know! sorry if the plot doesn't make much sense. i also started school this week so please be patient with me! going to try and start posting shorter blurbs/headcanons between requests <3

harry was standing at a window in the lord's manor, watching the street below him as people sulked aimlessly by. it was a typical, gloomy day, the clouds gathering heavily above. it had been raining for weeks, maybe even months at this point, and it was beginning to cast a permanent gray shadow across the city. not even the weather could escape the tragedies of the war.

though harry chose to not dwell on the war, he felt its lingering effects. even from his lofty spot in the comfort of the lord's castle, which he barely left anymore. its walls had become harry's second skin. so long as he had everything delivered to him whenever he desired, it was disgusting to him to even think of stepping outside.

yet still, harry could see the abandoned and damaged shops just outside the lord's gates lining the courtyard along the cobblestone streets. the burnt remains of what once was. the sunken-in faces of the remaining people in the city. the lack of light, the lack of life, the lack of magic.

there's a part of harry, a weak cry from deep inside his repressed past, that feels bad. he was once a young wizard with bright eyes walking the streets of these same shops. he once enjoyed the sounds of shared happiness, and found solace in the fact that despite his lack of, there would always be joy in the world around him.

however, as harry grew older, and the circumstances around him shifted, he found himself getting angrier more often. not just on a weekly basis over small interactions or mistakes, but all the time, from the moment he was awoken by his nightmares to the moment he fell back into them. harry simply had no room inside of him left for anything else. it was just anger. pure, unbridled anger that only caused annoyance at first, then small outbursts of irritation after a while, and, eventually, he couldn't look at anyone or anything without wanting to physically destroy it for no reason other than he was just angry.

harry was angry at the world for having magic in it in the first place. he hated the divide it caused between muggles and non-muggles, pure bloods and half bloods. he was angry that divide is what took his parents from him before he could even properly know them. he was angry he had to grow up in abuse and neglect under the guise of 'safety'. he was angry he never received an apology, an admittance of guilt, not even a hint of closure for the past that was still controlling his present.

the boy who used to risk his life to save hogwarts and the students inside of it would eventually be the same one to let them fall.

when voldemort came back, and harry's anger was at its worst, he knew there was a connection. he didn't know about horcruxes yet and he certainly didn't know he was one. and yet he knew, somewhere deep inside him again, that it wasn't a coincidence. there was a reason his anger was consuming him, and the reason was voldemort.

after cedric's death, harry had begun to spiral. the nightmares were worse than before, he felt deathly paranoid constantly, and couldn't escape the intruding memories of the graveyard. though harry had managed well enough afterwards, still suppressing his rage, he couldn't hide the change in his personality from those closest to him. ron and hermione were the first to bring it up, but, of course, harry had snapped and told them to mind the business that pays them. despite his resistance, they tried until the very end to help their best friend see through his anger, to remember what was right and wrong.

however, once sirius was dead, it was all over.

harry had simply lost any hope that was left within him. watching sirius fall through the veil, his eyes lifeless and cold, was like watching harry himself die. he didn't think he could get any lower, and then he watched the only family he had left be cursed just within his reach.

harry was never the same after that. when he sat in bed late at night staring at the marauders map in his lap, he thought about how much he hated this life that's been made for him. the boy who lived, the scape goat, the hero, our only hope. it was crushing. harry was just a boy. he wanted to live a normal life.

but he knew he never could. not after tom riddle, not after cedric, not after sirius. even if everything went away tomorrow and harry could just attend his classes and be with his friends, nothing would change. he would still be alone, he would still be angry, and he would still suffer from his traumas. what was the point in fighting for good or living to see the end when you would always end up alone?

except, harry wasn't alone, really. he had you.

if there was one thing in this lifetime, one thing throughout this entire war that could have saved harry, it was you.

you and harry had been classmates for a year or so before really getting to know each other, and started dating not long after. when you were around, harry knew there was something worth fighting for. though he may feel angry and everything and everyone and everything everyone said, harry could never truly be mad with you. it's like when you looked at him the anger was muted, numb, deep inside him, and as soon as someone would interrupt it was bubbling at the surface again.

you were worried about harry, of course, and saw the effects his anger had on his relationships with everyone else around him. besides you.

he remembers you clearly, still to this day, and just how upset you were anytime he lashed out. if he'd felt anything other than anger at that time, it would've been guilt. guilt for hurting you, for scaring you. guilt, but not guilty enough to stop.

the anger was stronger.

even when you asked him, begged him, please, harry, please stop letting your anger win, and even when he promised, swore on his own grave, that he would try harder to stop for you, he never did.

harry was beyond angry. he was spiteful. all he had ever been was kind, a pushover who gave everyone the respect he was never graced with. he's saved strangers who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. he's lost his family in their sacrifice for the greater good that now rested upon harry's 16 year old shoulders.

he was beginning to think the fight wasn't worth it.

not only did the fight for good no longer seem worthy to harry, the fight against it only seemed to become more enticing. why should harry continue to risk his life and sanity when there would always be fights of blood purity? why should he be the hero everyone else has always wanted him to be?

for a long time, the answer was you. you were reason enough for harry to keep fighting, to keep his anger under control. when he looked at you things made sense for just a moment, his suffering was worth it to see you alive and well. until it wasn't.

everyone has a breaking point, and harry felt like he had finally reached his. as the war had geared up to a point of no return, harry had to make a decision. he had always assumed his decision was already made for him since birth, but he soon realized he never actually had to follow this path set for him in the first place. he was free to do as he pleased. he wasn't dumbledore, he wasn't his parents, he wasn't even the hero everyone thought he was. he was angry. he was spiteful.

worse than that, harry was vengeful.

so, when he met voldemort in the woods during the battle of hogwarts to accept his death, harry instead offered him a proposal the dark lord simply couldn't refuse. harry potter, his living horcrux, would become his successor upon his death. harry would fight with and for voldemort, training to become the most powerful dark wizard in history, and to finally let tom riddle rest well knowing the world was in just as dark, evil hands as his own.

though voldemort was skeptical at first, naturally, as harry expected him to be, he could eventually see the darkness within harry nearly consuming him whole. he was as serious as death itself. he no longer had the desire within him to continue fighting for, what he saw as, a lost cause. voldemort was rather pleased with this news, though never expected harry to come around like he did. he hadn't even considered it, really. but who was he to deny his own successor?

upon harry's return to hogwarts with voldemort and his death eaters in tow, every single person who watched was stunned into silence. even mcgonagall, who had been instructing and encouraging the students all night in their fight, had become speechless and teary eyed at the sight. ron had to catch hermione, who nearly fell to the floor.

but nobody was as upset as you were.

you had already been sobbing watching harry walk off into the woods towards his own death thinking you would never see him alive again. only to watch him emerge from the same treeline with the enemy by his side. it's like you got kicked in the gut. you would've almost rather never seen harry again.

"harry!" you had screamed in a broken voice as he crossed the bridge, voldemort's snake slithering at his feet. you were running to him, breaking through the multiple arms that tried to hold you back.

voldemort tried to raise his wand to you, but harry had stopped him, telling him to let him handle it. he was suspicious at first, still not fully trusting harry's intentions just yet, but was reassured by the sinister look in his eyes.

harry looked at you. he remembers feeling a twinge of that same guilt from before, the tiniest spark of hope deep within his rage. he really did love you, at least at some point he did. you would've made all of this worth it, you would've been the reason to keep going. but not even you were reason enough anymore. for so long he had been ready to take his revenge on the world that failed him.

"harry, what are you doing?" you had asked him, voice shaking. you were almost whispering, your eyes nervously glancing towards voldemort every other second in fear for your safety. harry grabbed your hands but you pulled them back, a look of disgust coming across your face.

"come with me." harry had told you. your look of disgusted transformed into shock, anger, confusion, and guilt. there were mumblings coming from the crowd of students behind you. "what?" you had asked, nearly breathless at this point, your eyes searching him for answers.

"come with me, [y/n]. i want you by my side as i become the most powerful dark lord in the world." harry explained, taking steps towards you with an excited grin on his face, his eyes still dark with corruption. you were still in shock when he grabbed for your hands. he kissed your knuckles softly with a quiet, "i love you,"

he had meant it, but not like he used to.

it took a few moments of silence and some tense eye contact before you pulled your hands away, letting the tears fall again as you attempted to gather your words. "you can't do this, harry. i will never join the dark lord. you know this isn't right, why are you doing this? why? why?" you're practically begging for an answer as harry looked away, an irritated expression on his face, clenching his jaw together. your hands reached for his shirt and jacket, trying to shake some sense into him as you grasped them tightly and pulled him closer.

"don't you love me?" you had asked him in the most heartbreaking, soul crushing voice. your words were weak, but your sentiment was palpable. you were bloody, dirty, covered in scars from fighting, holding harry close to you as you begged him with wide eyes. not too much earlier in the year he would've folded immediately looking at you, so innocent and desperate, his last bit of hope in the world.

but it was already far too late.

"take her to azkaban," harry had announced, angling his head back to the deatheaters behind him, keeping his eyes locked with yours. your grip on his clothes loosened and shocked gasps came from the crowd. harry looked at voldemort, who was a bit puzzled by the situation, but backed up harry's real nonetheless. "you heard the boy," he snapped towards the men behind him.

the deatheaters walked towards you as you stepped away from harry. "no, no, no, stop!" you were screaming, trying to back away from them, but they had grabbed your arms aggressively and began dragging you towards the bridge. "[y/n]!" a few students had shouted, running towards you before their attempts were blocked by a wave of voldemort's wand. the students fell to the ground, watching helplessly as you continued to fight your way out of the deatheaters' grasps. harry stood still, emotionless, completely stoic as he heard your desperate wails and calls for his name disappear into the woods behind him.

the rest of that night or day or whatever it was has since been completely blocked out of harry's mind, forever. his rage had reached a level he didn't know was possible. all he could recall anymore is the blood, the screaming, the running, and the light of his wand in his hand. many students and professors died during that battle at his hand, along with voldemort's and the deatheaters'. the castle was then burned to the ground, signifying the end of the battle. hogwarts had never stood a chance.

and, now, harry stands in the dark lord's manor, staring at the abandoned buildings lining his street, and he's thinking of you.

he often wondered how life would have been if you had joined him that day. though his years since have been packed with death, fights, destruction, and chaos, there were moments alone or in peril where you crossed his mind like a gentle breeze. a simpler part of his past, a light in his darkness. your soft, kind eyes, wide with shock as you back away from him, fixated on the deatheaters coming to collect you. your sweet, melodic voice screaming and breaking as you were dragged away, fighting for your freedom. harry could remember the moment perfectly despite everything else in his life being a blur.

he wonders how you would have filled the role as his partner in crime after choosing him. two dark lords unstoppable against the forces of the wizarding world, fighting 'good' and spreading evil just as he had been this whole time. would you have succumbed easily to the temptation? would you be as dark as harry was? could you maybe even be darker?

but harry knew it was a fruitless endeavor from the beginning. he had wanted to ask you anyways, to at least give you a chance to make the decision to be with him, even if he already knew what your response would be. harry was a bit let down at first, hoping maybe there was enough love between you to push morals aside, but he knew he would never be that lucky. part of why he fell in love with you way before his anger began was your commitment and dedication to what you believed was right. that same trait would be the driving force behind his decision to lock you away.

harry knew you. and he knew you wouldn't stop fighting until your body gave out, and maybe even after that. he may have lost you by sending you to azkaban for the foreseeable future of the war, but he'd rather know you were safe somewhere solitary than spend his years wondering where your dead body had been rotting into the dirt all this time. though azkaban was desolate, dark, isolated, and torturous, it allowed harry to sleep at night thinking of your still-beating heart resting safely behind those impenetrable walls.

lately his nights had become more restless, though, as the thought of you still residing in azkaban began to sit with him. he didn't feel guilt, really, he knew it was what was ultimately best for you. but he did miss you.

after the war had died down and voldemort took his place as the rightful dark lord of the world, harry's anger began to subside for the first time in years. rather than rage fueling his insatiable desire to destroy, he felt incredibly numb and disengaged with everything around him. the desolate streets and grim sky and abandoned city outside the windows began to fit his mental state more and more. for the first time since he was a teenager, harry could see past the anger.

and all he wanted was you.

so, harry had reached out to the dark lord, who spent most of his time at his new ministry castle across the country from the old manor he let harry watch over. they communicated every so often, checking in on business and social matters, but otherwise never had to meet in person. 

harry sent him a letter asking for your release and direct delivery to his household, barring from reason. he felt after the war he had lead with and for voldemort, he owed harry a singular favor all these years later.

it only took 2 days for a confirmation letter to be sent back to harry, signed by voldemort himself, dating your arrival for the next day.

harry had his house elf, jinx, make up your room, asking her to be sure it was comfortable and clean before your delivery tomorrow afternoon, and to also provide plenty of options for dinner.

harry spent all night thinking about you, wondering what you'd look like after all this time. how similar or different you would be from what he remembers. how you'd react to seeing him. he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't react well, likely needing an extended period of alone time to adjust being here before he'd ever get a civil moment with you. but he was up for the challenge, otherwise he'd never ask for your return in the first place. he was releasing his anger, and instead building his patience, if not just to hold you one more time.

there was a delicious smell filling the mansion as the clock drew nearer to your arrival. harry was dressed better than he had been in years, and had jinx make the usually desolate looking building feel warm and inviting. fireplaces roaring, warm lamps flooding the hallways, and the grand dining table set to perfection for 2 particular guests.

harry didn't want to make it too obvious, but it was hard for him to hide how excited he was to see you again. even if you were different, even if you hated him, all he wanted was to see you in person, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the day you were dragged away at his command.

once the hour was upon him, harry could hear footsteps and voices on the second floor. his heart leaped, setting down his glass of wine before heading for the stairs.

"let go of me, let go of me," a strained voice was crying down the hall, the sounds of a struggle coming from harry's left. he saw two house elves, rather squat and bulky, holding onto the arms of a frail body covered in a simple striped prison dress.

one elf turned to harry and gave him a devilish grin, "ah, there's the man himself!" he growled, his partner turning as well. "sorry we were late, mr. potter, someone here wasn't too keen on leaving azkaban, for some reason," he apologizes, pulling at the arm he's holding.

you slowly turn your head and stop struggling, your eyes wide with fear and mouth dropped open. "harry?" you whispered to yourself, your knees nearly giving out beneath you before the elves aggressively pulled you back up.

the first elf groans, rolling his eyes at you. "where can we put her, huh?" he asks, his tone impatient. harry pulls a few gold coins out of his pocket and hands them over to both of the elves. "right here is just fine. thank you, boys," he tells them.

the elves happily accept the tips and drop you to the ground, quickly disappearing in a flash.

you're left heavily breathing on the floor of the hall, sniffling and groaning in pain before diverting your attention to harry. your eyes were still wide, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you tried to move yourself further away from him on your hands and knees.

harry gave you your space, but watched intently as you nervously increased the distance between both of you. your hair was long, tangled, greasy, and falling around you like a curtain. you were smaller than he remembered, your eyes sunken in and cheeks more hollowed than before. you were pale, and visibly dirty. the soles of your feet were nearly black.

harry felt a pain in his stomach, his blood pressure rising imagining how you lived inside the walls of the prison. he couldn't identify the feeling. it was different from anger, but it wasn't far off.

as you continued to back up, your eyes shifted to a widow on your right. you slowly gained the energy to lift yourself and reach for the window, throwing it open before attempting to stick your hand out.

your hand hit the open window like you had never moved the glass barrier. you continued trying to stick your hand and head out, hitting at the invisible barrier with all your strength, making frustrated sounds.

"there's a spell on the house, love. you can't leave, just for now, until we can work things out," harry tried to explain gently as you continued trying to escape. he took a step towards you and you stepped away, leaning on the wall for support as you began to cry harder.

"get away from me, get away, what the fuck, what the fuck is happening," you tried to shout at him, your faced turned away and other arm putting distance between you and harry. you were gasping for air, your voice stressed and broken, shaking your head as you tried to continue backing up into the wall.

harry still attempted to give you your space. he hated to see you like this. you were so defensive and scared of everything going on around you. he wanted to give you time to calm down, but felt you needed to know what was going on.

"[y/n]," harry said, causing your head to snap towards him with curious eyes. your arm lowered slightly, your knees still weak beneath you. "listen to me, okay? just for a second," harry tried to ask kindly. he hadn't realized just how long it had been since he talked to someone this gently.

you continued to stand defensively, your eyes scanning harry up and down nervously as your breathing slowly started to still.

harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before turning his attention to you again. "i know this is a lot, and i know it's confusing," he starts, his voice unexpectedly shaky. "but i asked voldemort, and i had you released from azkaban. i figured you may like a warm place to stay, so i had you brought here,"

you still looked confused for a moment before you narrowed your eyes, your arm coming up once again to defend yourself. "what are you talking about? where are we?" you asked harry suspiciously, still scanning him from head to toe.

"my manor. well, the lord's manor, but, essentially mine," harry says a bit awkwardly. you gave him a look of disgust, leaning further into the wall for support. "why would i want to be here? with you?" you practically spat at him with hatred in your eyes. harry was unaffected.

"i know you don't. but there's nowhere else to go. i promise." harry tells you solemnly. your eyes widen a bit again, a flash of fear coming across your face, but the anger quickly returns.

"i'd rather live in rubble than prop my feet up in the dark lord's manor," you say sharply, taking a step towards him in attempt to intimidate him. though you weren't much shorter than harry, you were weak, and tired, and he wasn't necessarily afraid of your threats.

he took a step back anyways, giving you more space. "look," he says, his eyes turning to the floor before he can steady his breathing and reply. "it's just for now. if you really don't want to stay, i won't make you." he says softly before returning his eyes to yours. they're not as bright as he remembers them in his dreams about you.

"but," he says, causing your jaw to clench. "you will stay until you're well again. and it's not up for debate." harry tells you firmly, his tone not as gentle as before.

you swallow harshly, your stomach growling audibly as the smell of the food downstairs begins to settle into your senses.

harry notices this and smirks to himself before quickly returning to a neutral state. "now," he announces, straightening out his blazer. "until the food is ready, there's a room made up for you just down this hall and to your left. it has a bathroom, and clothes. take all the time you need." he says before promptly turning on his heels and heading downstairs, his heart still racing from his encounter with you.

sitting in the living room watching the fireplace in front of him, harry eventually hears the door of your new bedroom click open and swiftly close. not long after he can hear the plumbing rumble as you take your first shower. he smiles at the fact that you're finally in his life once more, even if the circumstances were completely unusual.

harry's nearly concerned and wanting to send jinx to check on you after 2 hours of running water before it stops, the sound of the bathroom fan taking its place. harry's relieved.

"jinx, could tell our guest the foods ready," harry tells the elf as she brings the last tray from the kitchen to the dining room. she nods to herself, shuffling up the stairs sluggishly.

harry's pouring another glass of wine in the kitchen and decides to pour you one as well. on his way into the dining room, he sees you standing in the entryway. you're dressed in a large jumper, oversized pajamas bottoms, and your hair is still rather wet plopped into a bun on top of your head. your skin is rubbed raw, your cheeks still flushed pink as you analyze the table full of food in front of you.

harry smiles at your shocked gaze, your stomach growling again as he tries to hand you your glass of wine. you turn your nose at him, taking a step back. he smiles curtly and heads to his seat, setting your glass with his.

"figured you might be hungry," harry says as he sits down, his plate made for him already. he looks at you, arms still crossed, nose turned away, but eyes peeking at the endless food at your disposal. he can tell you're trying to keep your guard up, but your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you came downstairs.

he gestures to your chair just across from him, a plate made for you as well. you look at him, your eyes curious but expression still tight. you carefully take a step closer to the table, but you're still weary.

harry gives you a sympathetic smile. "after tonight you can have any meal you want in your solitude. i just thought i'd be nice and host my guest for the first night," he tells you, catching your gaze.

your curious look quickly turns to one of anger. "i'm not your guest. i'm practically a prisoner again." you hiss, your eyes boring into his with contempt. harry can sense the rage building inside of you. he's familiar with the feeling.

though you were different in so many ways, your dull eyes and lifeless voice, you were also similar in your determined attitude. you had always been the type to stand up and take charge, which harry completely admired and was impressed by. he found your beauty to be most potent in your strong will and cunning mind.

he admired you for just a moment, looking down at him with enough hatred to send shivers over his body. you looked so young, your skin supple and smooth under the light of the candles and fireplace, your hair falling loosely to frame your furrowed brow. you were just as pretty as he remembered, even if your expression always contained a hint of sadness and fear around him.

harry simply smiles softly, sitting back in his chair. "i prefer guest," he says teasingly. you suddenly snap at him, grabbing for his steak knife and pushing your arm to his neck against the back of the chair, holding the point of the knife to the side of his neck.

if looks could kill, the knife would've been unnecessary. your eyes were nearly black as you shakily push against harry's throat. "let me out of here now or i swear, harry," your voice cracks saying his name. "i swear i'll fucking kill you," you spit, leaning further into your grasp him on, your jaw clenched tightly.

harry, to your surprise, just chuckles to himself, not even struggling to breathe as he looks up at you deviously. your eyes widen just before you feel your arms start to move for you, as well as your legs. your neck is strained as well, an invisible force pushing you away from harry as the knife drops from your hand.

you're suddenly released from the mysterious grasp, and you choke out a breath, looking back at harry. he's smirking, but trying not to let you see as his pointed hand lowers from you. he fixes his shirt and chair, gesturing again to your seat across from him. "as thrilling as that was, love, not yet. i'd like you to stay here for at least a month before i consider placing you elsewhere." harry states, picking his knife back up to place on the table.

you stare at harry incredulously. "a month?" you ask, your face turning red again. you take another step towards him but you falter in fear of him using the same force as before to stop you. you stumble as your mind races to gather your thoughts. "how…you…i'm not staying here for a month! this is insanity! how could you send me away like that and just bring me back like it was nothing? a shower and a plate of food and suddenly those 5 years in azkaban never happened?"

you're now shouting at harry with a broken voice, your emotions on high as the tears threaten to fall again. harry watches you, just watches, and simply gestures to your chair again. "just join me," he insists.

you go to yell again, but harry sternly interrupts. "we can discuss this another time. please. sit down." he commands from you.

your mask drops for a moment, a look of fear crossing your face before diverting your eyes away completely to your chair. your stomach growls again, your hand covering it to hide the sound.

it takes a few moments until you slowly make your way to sit down, glancing at harry before taking your seat. harry begins eating silently, and, not long after, you're digging into your first real plate of food in years.

harry can't help but smile to himself subtly watching you indulge yourself for a moment, the mask slipping again as you gratefully shovel spoonfuls of food into your mouth with a sigh of relief. he was glad you were eating, even if he had to put up a bit of a fight to convince you.

as harry finishes up, you're still making your way through your second plate. he stands, grabbing your attention and making you curl back into your seat. "jinx," he calls out before sipping the last of his wine. jinx comes to the table and grabs harry's glass and plate, turning to take them to the kitchen. 

"[y/n], this is jinx," harry motions to the elf, who gives you a warm smile. you return the smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask her. she lives to serve," harry tells you proudly, earning a slight look of disgust from you before returning a smile at jinx.

"this was a lovely dinner, ms. jinx, thank you so much, truly," you thank her honestly. she bows to you slightly before continuing her way through the doors to the kitchen.

you shoot harry a glare. "the harry i knew would've never kept a house elf," you say, your words dripping with disdain. harry ignores your statement, turning to the stairs before ascending them.

he leaves you alone at the dining table, closing himself off in the master bedroom for the night. just as he's finishing up brushing his teeth, he hears your door click shut. that night he fell asleep feeling more reassured than he had in years knowing the pretty girl he couldn't keep his mind off of was asleep just down the hall from him.

it had been a few weeks since harry moved you in, and he rarely ended up seeing you in the mansion. you were often locked away in your room, or taking showers, and harry only ever saw you when you were finishing up a meal with jinx.

you had become quite close with her, it seems, which harry found sweet. he was worried at first that you may be using jinx as a way to find an escape from the house, but after a while without incident, harry realized how silly the idea was. you truly could connect with anyone.

one of the only other times he saw you, though, was when he passed by the open library one night. harry had been restless, thinking about his past in depth, feeling emotions he couldn't place, and decided to watch the sunrise to clear his head. he took a quick glance through the doors before spotting you curled up on one of the couches, a book in hand, fast asleep beside a warm lamp.

harry stopped, taking a moment to admire you from afar. you had gained some weight back being here, which harry loved to see. your cheeks were full and rounded, your hands not as frail, and the color was coming back to your skin. your hair looked impossibly soft under the light, sprawled everywhere around your angelic, sleeping face. harry couldn't help the cheesy smile that overcame his face. he was just happy that you were okay.

outside of that, harry spent most of his time alone, thinking about you. you hadn't reached out to him yet, which he expected, but was surprised when a month came and went and you still didn't confront him. he hadn't made his decision just yet, so he didn't have an answer for you even if you had asked him. he saw you were doing better, but still wasn't confident in letting you go. not just for selfish reasons, of course, but he wanted to be sure you were equipped enough to live on your own.

but, harry had to admit, his heart raced when he heard your soft footsteps pass his door to the stairs. his mind went blank seeing your figure standing in the dining room with jinx, chatting over a plate of snacks together. his blood ran cold when he heard your soft giggle from somewhere in the mansion. like a beautiful ghost haunting his past.

harry knew even before he sent his letter to voldemort that his feelings for you had never truly gone away. deep under his rage, his unforgiving heart, his cold blooded nature, his love for you had always remained. but he was learning to accept your departure if you chose to do so. a final goodbye to the most beautiful part of his unsightly life. harry wasn't sure he could handle the idea.

he was struggling with his thoughts, the constant back and forth he was feeling about you. at first harry was sleeping better with you there knowing you were safe, but now he stayed up late worrying himself sick over the decisions he had to make now that you were actually there.

sitting in bed, staring at the rising sun through his window, harry's mind was exhausting him. he hadn't slept all night and could feel the effects setting in. slowly, he stood from the bed and slipped on his house shoes along with his robe. he quietly leaves his room to not disturb you so early just down the hall.

he walks to the opposite end of the hall towards the balcony, and takes his usual seat facing the sunrise.

harry contemplates here most mornings, but never comes to any radical conclusions. he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's best for you anymore. he knows he selfishly wants you all to himself still, but also knows you deserve to live the life you want no matter what his opinion is. it's the same conversation with himself every time, and it leaves him confused and upset for keeping you here like he is. even if his heart is in the right place.

his thoughts are interrupted by jinx, who offers harry a cup of tea. he thanks her, but quickly calls her back to ask a question. "jinx, um…[y/n], how is she doing?" he asks.

jinx, a quiet house elf, gives harry a smile, and pats his shoulder. her smile is warm and reassuring, as well as her hand. as she walks off, harry smiles to himself a bit. he's not completely satisfied with the answer, but he takes what he can get.

finishing his cup of tea with the sun shining over the horizon, harry turns to head inside before being met with the sight of you standing at the open doorway of the balcony. 

you're dressed in a simple long sleeve pajama shirt along with comfortable pants, your arms crossed as the morning chill sets into the air. harry's a bit startled at first, but gives you a polite smile, diverting his eyes and walking around you to leave you be.

"harry," you said softly, turning to him.

harry's heart dropped, but turned to you promptly with eager eyes. the way you said his name, your soft voice, he was already so captivated by you.

"can we talk?"

now harry was worried. this is what he's been afraid of since you got here. he's not ready to answer you. he doesn't know what he's going to say when you desperately ask him to leave and never come back.

"of course," he says calmly, gesturing to the balcony so you could sit together.

once you've joined him in watching the sun, you two fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as the soft wind whistles past.

"i never thanked you," you said quietly after a while, almost a whisper in the wind. harry looked at you, looking at the sunrise. your face was radiant. you were brilliant in the light of the sun, your hair still impossibly soft and beautiful, falling around you, following the flow of the air. harry was overwhelmed with the beauty your presence held in this moment. "you never had to."

you glanced at harry, studying his expression, before turning back to the sun. "it's also been a month." you state coldly. harry's gaze drops, sighing. "57 days, technically," he mumbles.

a few moments of silence pass again, leaving harry an anxious mess in his seat. he tried to think of a gentle way to let you know he still needed time to decide what to do. a way to tell you without putting his life at risk to your anger.

"well, as much as i hate to say this, you were right," you say, still watching the sunrise in deep thought. harry was shocked by your words, immediately sitting up in his seat to get a better look at your face.

you were stoic, your eyes fixated on the scene out beyond your reach. "what?" harry asked, not believing his own ears. a small smile crept to your lips, the first one he's managed to see himself since you've been here. his heart aches at just the hint of seeing it again.

"don't make me say it again, potter," you try to say threateningly with that small smile, your eyes falling to your lap.

harry is stunned into silence, watching you with careful eyes. "but, you were right. i needed time to be healthy again." you said to him, your back still turned. harry stayed quiet, allowing you to continue. "i was angry with you. i still am. i don't think it'll ever stop," you inform him, the coldness returning to your voice. "but," he was preparing himself for the rejection, the questions, the begging.

"i'd like to stay, if you'll have me," you offer in a slightly embarrassed tone, your face turned the other way.

to say harry was shocked at your request is an understatement. he was expecting you to have a plan to take him out if he had rejected your request to leave yet. he never considered the idea that you might actually want to stay with him.

"i'll have you forever, if you let me," harry responds, a small smile on his face as well. you shoot him a warning look. "not forever. just until i feel well again." you tell him, your voice cold once more. you turn back to the sun, now completely over the horizon. "figured you owe me that much," you say in an accusatory voice.

harry just smirks to himself. you could never be soft for long when he was around. but he appreciated that you felt you could ask him to stay, though you never had to in the first place. harry really would have had you forever, if you'd let him.

"stay as long as you need to." he says.

you glance back at him again, your eyes softer this time. you're analyzing him for a moment before turning to him a bit. "it took me a long time to understand why you sent me to azkaban," you tell him, your voice steady and emotionless. harry just watches you, admiring the light surrounding you.

"you would've never stood a chance in destroying the world had i been free," you state, your eyes still examining him. harry offers you another small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way. "you knew you were weak," you say.

harry's now analyzing your expression, your words swimming around in his mind. "i did," he admitted to you. "it was just easier if i knew where you were all this time," he says breathlessly.

your eyes narrow at him once more, the anger returning to your body language. "easier for you. i would've never done the same if the roles were reversed." you snapped at him harshly. harry believed you. he thought about it a lot in his nightly battles with his own mind.

"you're right," harry stated, still admiring you in your anger. you were upset, but gave harry a questioning look. your eyes softened only a bit. "i think about it all the time," he admits to you gently.

you're a bit puzzled by his admittance of guilt, but don't let it stop you. "i hope it haunts you at night the way it haunts me," you say sharply, your eyes dark.

"always has," harry says to himself, only making you more angry. "you poor thing. must've been so tough relaxing in this mansion knowing i was rotting away in solitary confinement." your voice is strong, powerful, a contrast to the broken words you gave harry your first day here.

"it was," harry says simply, sensing your rising impatience with him. you stood from your seat, towering over him as he continued watching you in wonder. "you evil little rat. you're just lucky my magic is restricted by this spell. i would've killed you in your sleep that first night." you threaten him, gesturing to the protection spell around the castle and balcony.

harry wants to stop himself, but can't keep the smirk off his face. this only angers you more, pulling your arm back and slapping harry square across his face.

he doesn't react, instead allowing himself to stay facing away from you. "i hate you," you state weakly, your hands balled at your side. harry looks at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "i know," he says softly.

you frustratedly sit back down, turning to look back at the sunrise once more.

a long silence settles over you two, listening to the sounds of the city as it awakens around you. eventually, you stand, turning to leave harry alone on the balcony. you pause before you leave.

"i still never thanked you, harry." you speak softly, your back turned to him. he looks over at you, your curves glowing in the morning light. "you never had to," he replies, and you're off down the dark hallway.

for the next few months, you and harry live together amicably. he sees you around more often as you start to leave the confines of your room. of course the library was a place of solace for you, but he started to see you more in the living room, on the balcony, or in the dining room enjoying jinx's company. for a while you two exchanged polite greetings, simple glances and acknowledgements, before asking about each other's days, or commenting on the weather. it was agonizingly slow for harry, but he was breaking through your walls one way or another.

one day not long after you'd slapped him on the balcony, you sat in the living room with harry, across from his seat on the couch. he was surprised by your presence, but gave you a small smile over his book anyway. "jinx tells me you've been acting different," you'd stated bluntly, watching his face for a reaction.

harry put down the book he was reading, giving you his attention. "have i?" he asks. you were always examining him, your eyes critical but curious at the same time. "she says your anger used to be terrible. even worse than i remember." you lead him on.

harry bit his lip thinking about the years where his rage was at its worst. he tried not to dwell on them, and instead tried to focus on the newfound emotions consuming his life. but he couldn't deny the path of destruction he'd left while seeing red.

harry eventually nodded, his eyes distant. "it was," he admits, his voice just as lost in thought. you shifted in your seat. "you let it ruin everything, harry." you said softly, leaving him looking at the floor in disappointment. "i know," he admitted.

the silence between you was palpable. harry felt the weight of it on his shoulders before you spoke again. "i would hear about the things you did while in azkaban. the guard would tell me even after i asked him to stop." you inform him. harry can still feel your eyes shooting daggers at him.

"for so long i fantasized about being the one to kill you, to finally put an end to voldemort." you said wistfully. harry glanced at you, seeing a longing look on your face. "how brave of [y/n] to put her love aside to kill the dark lord's apprentice." you said in a mocking tone, leaning back in your seat.

harry watched you, imagining you in azkaban, dreaming of putting an end to his life, while he dreamed of freeing you. it was a fair trade, he thought, and not one he would argue against at this point. and it didn't go unnoticed that you mentioned your love for him, either.

"you still can," harry says, causing you to snap your eyes back at him. "excuse me?" you ask with a sneer. harry puts his book to the side and sits up, his feet planted on the ground. "kill me, that is. it's not impossible." he tells you with intrigue.

you're staring at him incredulously, your eyes always searching him. "you're…you're kidding, right? i mean, you took my magic while yours seems to be highly skilled. you really think i'd stand a chance?" you ask with a sarcastic laugh.

harry stands from his seat, taking achingly slow steps around the coffee table towards you. "yes, while your magic is weak, you are not, [y/n]. i've gone out of my way to keep the knives, fire pokers, swords, and hundreds of books on potions and charms out for your use, at any time, have i not?" harry questions you, getting closer now. though you would normally pull back from him, you stay seated, trying to process his words.

standing just before you, harry admires the curves of your face against the light of the fire. "with your nimble step and cunning wit," harry lifts his hand to gently put his fingers to your chin. the first physical contact he's had with you. unless you count the time you held that knife to his throat. "you could gut me like a pig before i even have the chance to squeal," harry's voice is soft but dark, your breathing caught in your throat at the contact.

as he backed away, harry could see the physical effect he had on you. your nervous blinking, your jaw tightening, hands trembling; he found it sweet he could still do that to you, even if you claimed to hate him.

after that day, harry felt less tension between you two. maybe being vulnerable around you made you realize he was never a threat to begin with. he didn't want anything from you, and he didn't care if you never wanted anything from him. as long as you were safe, that was all he cared about. he hoped you were starting to understand that.

though conversations between you were still tense and cryptic, there was a sense of unspoken comradery that felt nostalgic to you both. your serious, brooding angst matched with harry's calm, collected coldness made for an interesting match. it was never the same as before, you were both fairly aware it wasn't ever going to be, but there was an undoubted chemistry that still lingered from your teenage years together.

however, something else that always lingered during your interactions is your distaste for harry's actions. at any chance you can, you poke and prod at his past, partly to understand, he assumes, but also to test his limits. you were always cautious and suspicious of his submissive behavior when it came to this kind of confrontation; how could someone who was, at least at one point, so evil, so cruel and heartless, become so nonchalant about their past? who wipes out entire cities just to 'not dwell on it'?

this was always a point of contention between you, even if everything else until that point had been somewhat playful. it never so much upset harry as it riled you up, bringing strong emotions to the forefront, causing you to lash out at him. though he always stayed calm, he also always seemed to listen. he never disagreed with your feelings or sentiments, if anything he agreed with your hatred for himself. it's like that day in the living room when he tempted you with his death, and yet you never took the bait.

harry rather enjoyed watching you work yourself up, and admired how quick you were to defend yourself. he never wanted to upset you, of course, but sometimes he couldn't help his cheeky responses knowing it would get a look out of you that made his heart jump. it might not be the most gentlemanly thing he does, but something about your anger excited him. it was nothing like his vengeful rage from the past, but it had its own potency that ran a chill down his spine. harry was so used to everyone cowering away from him in fear of his power that he relished your open aggression towards him. it was thrilling, and it was exactly what he needed.

harry tried to remain respectful of his guest, but having such a beautiful mind and body occupy his space with him was hard to ignore sometimes. his eyes would wander, as well as his thoughts, and he had caught himself fantasizing about you a few too many times to admit. you were stunning, of course, you always had been, but there was something about you now that elevated your beauty in harry's eyes. maybe it was the dark, unforgiving coldness of your eyes, or the strong scowl that your expression rested in, or the underlying anger that was ready to bubble over at any point, but harry was completely infatuated with who you had become.

he knew how hypocritical it was for him to admire the parts of you that were forced out in your desperation to survive the decision he made for you all those years ago. though you seldom mentioned your years in azkaban, harry could see and feel the effects it continued to have on you. they weighed on him heavily, and though harry wasn't one to regret what's happened in the past, he wished he could've figured out another way to protect you at the time. a way that didn't dim the light inside of you the way that it has been.

but still, that light was there. when you smiled to yourself at your own quips, when you admired the food jinx prepares you, when you lost yourself in your books, harry could physically feel the light radiating within you. it was familiar, like an old hug from a friend, and was unmistakably beautiful.

sometimes he felt like a teenager again, discovering the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place. your natural charm, your captivating eyes, the innate draw he felt to you simply by being in your presence. it was unlike anything he's felt for another person, before or since meeting you. but rather than two teenagers flirting over study dates, you were now two closed off adults with a complicated history and 'break up', if you could even call it that. it was nothing like the past, yet it was entirely too similar.

you and harry had been sitting in silence together in the living room, reading your respective books, enjoying each other's company. it was one of harry's favorite things to do with you now, and one of the only ways you two could be together without it ending in tension. neither of you talked, neither of you made noise outside of the occasional chuckle or gasp at your readings; it was a peaceful excuse for harry to be near you, and sometimes admire you from over the pages.

this night, however, you broke the traditional silence by asking harry a question you'd been keeping to yourself. "harry," you started. he loved the sound of his name in your voice, it was invigorating to listen to.

harry turned his head to you, his book still in his lap, noticing you've long since placed yours on the table beside you. "[y/n]," he responded with his typical smirk, returning his eyes to his book.

you cleared your throat a bit, your ankles crossing in front of you. "how often did you think of me," it was more of a statement than a question, your tone not as cold and questioning as it typically was.

harry knew what you meant, of course, and waited a moment before answering you. "i'd never stopped," he said simply. it was true, and it still is.

you turned to look at the fireplace, your knees bouncing out of the corner of harry's eye as he pretends to continue reading. "but you never came back for me," you stated. harry's eyebrows furrowed, glancing at you again before looking away to leave you with your words. "you left me there to die," you said, that familiar coldness returning to your tone.

harry let out a sharp breath. "that was never my intention, and you know that." he says without a reaction. you become visibly irritated, your jaw clenching with your fists. "you never thought about me," you insisted, your words heavy with contempt.

harry shut his book and threw it beside him, leaning towards you. you turned to glare at him, your nostrils flared. "i was lucky to sleep one full night in the last 5 years without a singular dream of you." he tells you, his voice as steady as his eye contact. "you haunt me like a ghost, [y/n]. you always will."

you're looking at him questionably as you stand from your seat across from him, now making your way towards him. "good. i hope you never forget about what you did to me. i won't." you hiss at him, your cheeks turning red. harry's mind races with you towering over him, leaning back in his seat to fully enjoy the view.

"how could i forget about you?" he quips, that same damn smirk making you grit your teeth. you take another, heavier step towards him, your fists trembling at your sides. "stop fucking doing that," you spit threateningly.

harry cocks his head to the side, looking you up and down. he likes seeing you like this, even if it scares him a bit. "what?" he asks, pushing you even further.

you step between his legs and lean into his face, only leaving a few inches between you. "that, you fucking creep. is this funny to you?" your voice is raised now, the anger finally starting to boil over again. "not at all," harry says, still smirking at your reaction.

"then wipe the smirk off your face and stop doing this to me, harry." you instruct him, leaning back to cross your arms in front of you. harry's biting his lip, not able to resist the lustful thoughts he's having of you in this situation. "doing what, exactly?" he asks, curious what you mean.

"this, all of this, harry. you look at me like a starving animal. you watch me around the house like a stalker. you say you think of me all the time and yet you've only so much as touched my chin." you rattle off, clearly frustrated with these thoughts you've kept inside. "you bring me back here and have me live like a princess when there's people outside who live like animals because of you and what you've done," you continue to raise your voice at him, now getting yourself completely worked up.

harry just watches you, like always, not disagreeing with any of your sentiments. as he normally doesn't, he knows you're a smart girl.

"and you're still fucking looking at me like that," you growl, your arm coming across his neck once more, like the first night you were here, holding him against the cushions of the couch.

harry doesn't stop you, as he never does, and instead enjoys the feeling of you kneeling between his legs in an attempt to further choke him. "i swear on my own life i'll still kill you, potter. what the fuck do you want from me?" you interrogate him, your dark eyes searching him for answers.

the smirk on harry's face only grows, causing you to push further into his throat. it's ironic how much he wants from you right now that would only further put his life at risk in your hands.

"i…never wanted…anything…" harry chokes out. he knows he's stronger than you and could easily escape your grasp, but he enjoys the feeling of letting you have control over the moment, and over him.

"that's a fucking lie," you say through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with harry. "tell me what you want." you insist.

harry's heart is racing, his mind going blank from the lack of oxygen, and an inconvenient erection growing through his trousers. he could tell you so many things he wants, how many nights he's spent imagining you on top of him like this once again. he knows it would only anger you more, and he was almost tempted by that thought alone.

after a few moments of harry struggling to keep his eyes focused on you, you could feel something against your thigh that caught your attention. glancing down, your weight on harry's throat lessened enough for him to breathe slightly. you looked back up at his eyes with a look of confusion and shock before quickly returning to anger.

"seriously? are you fucking turned on right now as i'm threatening your life?" you ask him with disgust, slightly pulling away. harry's cheeks flush as he tries to catch his breath, your arm still resting across this collarbone. he stays quiet, his eyes glancing between you and his lap.

you scoff at him. "you're so pathetic, potter. how you were ever a leader of anything is a mystery to me." you ridicule him, an amused smirk coming across your own face.

your condescending attitude only fuels harry's excitement more, trying not to let his expression expose how much he's enjoying this.

"it's almost like you want me to kill you," your voice is quiet but dangerously cold, giving harry goosebumps as your breath falls across his blushing face. he tries to stop it but his body can't resist a low whine being forced from his throat.

your eyes fall to his lips for just a moment before you lean into them, surprising harry with a hungry kiss as you relax your weight onto his body. more moans escape harry's mouth as you roughly force your tongue past his lips. his hand naturally finds your waist, but you slap it away harshly with your free hand. "no touching." you warn him, your lips brushing against his.

"yes ma'am," harry responds.

you give him a look, your other leg kneeling beside his as you straddle his thigh, your skirt falling perfectly over his knee. "i still hate you," you growl, choking him against the couch once more. "i know," harry says breathlessly, staring at you like a helpless puppy.

forcing him into a suffocating kiss, you eventually let harry breathe as your lips find his neck, your teeth sinking into his skin and hands grasping his shoulders tightly. he groans at the pain, earning a slight roll of your hips on his leg. harry wants nothing more than to touch you right now, guiding your hips into his body, pleasuring you like he's wanted to for so long. but for now, he's just glad you're kissing him, and enjoys the feeling of your breath against his bruised skin.

"shirt off." you command, sitting back to observe the puddle harry's become in your grasp. he wastes no time taking off his sweater, throwing it behind him as your eyes trace over his scarred torso. your cold gaze softens at the sight, your fingers tracing the healed wounds carefully.

for a moment, when you glance at harry through your eyelashes, he feels that same love you shared as kids. the soft, innocent admiration that came with inexperience. for just one moment, nothing was complicated, and there was no history. you were discovering harry all over again, like he had been with you.

the moment didn't last for long as your gaze hardened once more looking at him. you stood from your straddling position, much to his disappointment. he was ready for you to end the moment and leave, but you didn't.

"on your knees." you instructed him. again, harry wasted no time as he sunk to his knees in front of the couch, eye level with the hem of your skirt. he looked up at you eagerly, hardly believing the privilege he had to see you above him like this.

harry's heart was racing as you lifted your skirt to expose your panties to him. his eyes never left yours, his breathing hitching at the beauty just in front of his face. his hands were patiently folded in his lap, aching to grab every part of you.

you slowly lifted one thigh onto harry's shoulder, reaching down to take the glasses off his face for him, setting them to the side. "now," you told him, your voice seductive as you lean your weight into him once more. harry holds his shoulders steady, his mouth close enough to your soaked pantines to nearly taste you already.

"let me ride your face," you coo, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as he continues staring at you with hungry eyes. "it's the least you can do for me," you smirk, your voice still chillingly cold and cryptic.

harry lets out a sigh of relief and desperation, eyes glancing at your panties before returning to your gaze. you slowly push his open mouth onto you, not able to hold back a sound of relief yourself.

harry's eyes flutter shut as your hips roll onto his face, losing himself in your smell and taste. your fingers tangle into his hair to keep him in place, soft, breathy gasps falling from your lips as you watch from above.

after a minute you become too desperate and pull your panties aside, instructing harry to hold them as you force his mouth onto your dripping pussy. harry listens like a good boy and holds the fabric, his hand also taking the chance to grip your inner thigh. a deep moan escapes your throat at the feeling.

harry's tongue quickly works its way across your arousal, enjoying every part of you as he pushes himself further into your pussy. your hands try to pull his hair back to relieve some of the overwhelming feeling, but harry doesn't let you control him for once. he's desperate to please you, his hunger growing the more of you he's allowed to have.

harry's other hand grabs for your skirt to hold it above his head, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. your face is twisted in pleasure, lips bitten, eyes glazed over as you watch harry disappear between your legs.

harry moans at the sight of you, sending shivers across your skin. you moan, biting your lips closed, your hips stuttering against his mouth. "fuck," you mumble, earning another moan from harry as his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

a hand rushed to your mouth as you attempt to hide your filthy noises, the feeling making your eyes roll back. you're trying to mask your pleasure, but harry can see right through you.

you finally successfully pull his mouth off of you, lips swollen and wet as his head rests in your grip. "good," you say breathlessly. your voice falters a bit. you take your thigh off harry's shoulder, again, much to his disappointment.

"sit," you tell him, gesturing to the couch once more. harry complies, returning to his spot on the couch behind him. you reach forward and unbutton his pants, pulling them down a bit with his assistance. you can see his erection through his briefs, causing you to smirk a bit before returning to your neutral expression.

"no touching," you remind harry as you position yourself to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. harry's sure you can hear his heartbeat racing under your control.

you start grinding your soaking wet panties against harry's clothed cock, your mouth falling open with his at the sensation. the light of the fire behind you leaves harry with the beautiful sight of you glowing in his lap, your warm skin pressed against his as your breathy moans fall into his neck.

harry can hardly take the teasing any longer, his moans becoming needier the harder he gets under you. "fuck, [y/n]," his voice is deep with desire, his head rolling back once your roll your hips into him harshly. you moan at the sound of your own name, your hands returning to his shoulders as your nails dig deep into his skin.

"that's right, say my name," you smirk, grinding into harry at a faster pace. "so pathetic," you remind him.

harry continuously lets your name fall from his lips as you watch him, a helpless, desperate mess beneath you. he loves the feeling of letting you use him any way you want to.

soon you can't wait much longer, and you pull out harry's cock from his briefs. the feeling of your hand grasping his shift makes harry's hips buck up involuntarily, silently asking for more.

you can't help but chuckle at just how eager he is. you're more than enjoying the control and effect you have over him.

"now," you say again, causing harry to look back at you with needy eyes. "you're gonna let me use you until i cum," you tell him, teasing yourself with the feeling of him against your wet pussy. harry's eyes nearly roll back again as he nods for you, his lips parted with uneven breaths.

you slide harry inside of you, adjusting to the feeling as harry's head falls back once again in pleasure. "so fucking wet," harry sighs softly, nearly whining. once your hips lower completely onto his length, you start to ride harry slowly, still adjusting to him. he's a full blown whining mess beneath you, his chest flushed and heaving as your pussy tightens around him.

you take in the sight of him, your eyes exploring every sweaty part of his body as you continue riding at a slow pace. you unwrap your arms from his shoulders, leaning back into your hips. "take my shirt off," you tell harry.

his eyes open again, looking at you eagerly. his hands nervously begin lifting your shirt, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers, and savors the sight and feeling of pulling it off of you, his eyes glancing at your chest before locking with yours again.

"so beautiful," he tells you, your skin looking deliciously soft in the warm lowlight. "i know, now be quiet," you shut him up, picking up the pace of your hips.

harry's eyes narrow at you, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around his cock only making him hungrier for your pleasure. the sight of you bouncing in his lap, your breasts just in front of his face as you lean your hands next to his head on the back of the couch.

"open," you tell harry.

he doesn't have to be told twice before his lips part, his tongue eagerly waiting for you. you guide your nipple into his mouth, your hips rolling onto harry's cock in circles. his teeth and tongue tease the sensitive skin, your pussy gripping harry even more and earning a low growl from his chest. his hands remained at his sides, but he wanted nothing more than to feel you everywhere on top of him.

you start riding harry once more, his teeth still gripping your nipple making you whine at the feeling. "fuck," you let the word slip out, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. harry's more than aroused at your reaction to him, his cock aching inside of you to release.

you pull harry's head back by his hair, forcing him to look up at you. you reach for his glasses that you sat down earlier, returning them to his face delicately. harry appreciates the gesture and can better see the pleasure in your eyes, a soft smile falling across his lips.

"so pretty," he whispers. he can see the blush you try to hide, looking away from his eyes and down at your hips.

you start groaning in frustration, your grip on his hair tightening, causing harry to wince. "you're gonna make me cum," you tell him through broken moans, your thrusts becoming uneven. harry can feel you tightening around him again. he groans at the feeling, your name slipping from his mouth again and again. this only makes you fall apart more, high pitched whimpers coming from you as you chase your high.

you soon sink into harry's neck, your cries of pain and pleasure falling across his skin as your legs start to shake. you can't even form words as your body feels the waves of intense pleasure from each thrust onto harry's cock. your hands move to his shoulders again, holding onto him for stability as you continue to ride out your climax.

harry grows impatient at the feeling of your orgasm and watching you break down into him. he finally grabs for you, moving your hips to the couch beside him, staying inside you while you gasp at his movement. he kicks off his pants and adjusts himself between your legs.

"harry," you try to protest, your voice weak and shaky. "just let me do this, darling," he growls, his hips becoming flush against yours as he pushes his cock completely inside of you. you let out a gasp, your hand slapping over your lips once more.

harry hungrily digs his cock deeper inside of you with each slow thrust, his hands holding himself up above you as he watches his cock easily slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy. he folds your legs back as he sinks even deeper into you.

"holy fuck," he groans, his breathing heavy, hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep himself steady. "so beautiful, [y/n]," harry tells you again, his droopy eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.

you look at him, your eyes full of lust, but still cold as ice. "i…hate you," you remind him through strained breaths, struggling to take his entire length, still glaring at him.

this pushes harry over the edge, his hips quickening until he feels himself start to unravel. he pulls out of your warm pussy and cums on your stomach, groaning at the sight of you below him.

you gasp at the feeling, looking at harry with shock. "did you just cum from me saying i hate you?" you ask, your tone mocking his desperation. harry nods, still stroking his cock slowly, his other hand remaining on your thigh as his moans quiet down.

"you're disgusting," you tell him coldly, but harry can see the smirk on your face and the lust in your eyes. he watches you below him, smirking in return.

"and you love it."

[siddyyyyyyyy]

damian has a magic girlfriend. you can choose what powers they have. but reader sometimes uses her powers to play tricks and or entertain depending on the circumstances. maybe reader saves him with her powers and idk angst?

Is this Witchcraft?

Older!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 0.6 K summary: small prank teehee warnings: none, no use of y/n a/n: loooooove the idea, THANKYOUSOMUCH!!! But I just made a small drabble about it, I'll probably do another part to it, but currently I'm working on something bigger,so....... just wait it out(thanks again for the request)

»Could you pass me the book over-« And the book he wanted to grab is already in his hands. No matter how many times you do that, it never fails to faze him. He tried to figure out the science behind your power, but never got further than researching for telekinesis, reading hundereds of books about it, and learn that there is no possible way of him to fully understand it.

You, however, think it's amusing and also admireable how he tries and wants to figure it all out. Good thing he gave up after a few weeks, but still studies you intensely whenever he thinks you aren't looking.

Once, he got scared because you moved his stuffed animal to another place when he wasn't looking, doing it every time he turned his back to the plushie. He thought he was going insane until you revealed it and had to deal with a grumpy Damian for the rest of the day. But that didn't stop you from pulling pranks on him at all. In fact, it was funny to mess with him in various ways, especially when he doesn't get it at first.

Like now, he is focused on some case, sitting by his computer and currently solving it slowly but surely. Hanging out like this was usual between you two, just enjoying each other's presence like this while doing some stuff. But it does get boring sometimes. Especially when he has been at it for four hours and haven't said much.

You look through his room again, searching for something to distract him with. It won't hurt distracting him a little, right? You focus on his bottle water standing by his desk, carefully moving it up and let it circle around his head. Damian sighs out, trying to fetch the bottle in the air that floats around his head. He fails as you get the bottle out of his reach when he does so, getting a kick out of his attempts to stop your shenanigans. Finally, he turns around in his chair and looks a little annnoyed, while his water bottle still floats around by his face, even doing some small flips and circles right in front of him.

He manages to snatch it from the air, putting it back onto his desk with a small thud. »Are you doing this on purpose?« Bad question, but he still asked it.

»Do what on purpose?« Damian rolls his eyes at your words, standing off his chair and walks over to his bed, where you lay sprawled out on. He doesn't waste any time on laying down beside you, laying on his side to wrap his arm around your middle.

»Sorry for neglecting you. The case is really interesting.« He murmurs softly as you shift to wrap your own two arms around him.

Once he feels like you are getting comfortable to cuddle, the water bottle from before nudges his head gently, but irritating enough for him to curse it out in arabic. He knows it's you who does this all, but it doesn't stop him from getting at least a little grumpy again.

»I swear, if I see or feel this bottle move on its own, I will figure your power out just to make sure you won't be able to use it anymore.« Now, that's a threat. But you know he isn't serious. Maybe.

»You're no fun... can't even annoy you without getting death threats.« You sulk and place the bottle back onto his desk before snuggling closer to his chest.

He huffs out at your words and wraps his arm tighter around you. »That was not a death threat. Just a small warning.«

A small warning. Sure thing. But now with you both cuddled up, you are not complaining or messing around with his stuff anymore. Finally some peace.

a/n: I promise you all, there is going to be more parts to it probably but not now 😭😭 have a few things going on, i'm sure i'll get to it sooner or later. hope you enjoyed it!

←MASTERLIST

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Epel Felmier - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: I'd been hearin' this place was just some fancy museum, 'cept it's way huger 'n I thought.

Epel: We ain't got a museum back home, so… Seein' all these paintin's hangin' 'bout's just crazy!

???: Look at that apple, it's so red and shiny! Totally looks photo-worthy ♪

Epel: Ah, Cater-san! Yeah, it's a really beautiful apple, huh. Although, it's pretty hard to get them this red even with a ton of effort.

Cater: Eh, really? Epel-chan, you sure know your apples ♪

Epel: Ehehe, that's because I'm from a family of apple farmers. I don't think anyone knows more than me when it comes to apples!

Cater: I see～

Cater: Y'know, the queen here looks like she's talking with the crow as she offers it the apple. What do you think she's saying?

Cater: Since even someone well-versed in the world of apples like you thought it's a great looking one, thinking she's saying something like, "Doesn't it look delicious?"

Epel: Nah. I think she's saying, "It's not for you!"

Cater: Eh! So mean!

Epel: Well, yeah!! Like, back home, we'd always have crows trying to nab our apples…

Epel: They'd damage them, poke holes in them, drop them half-eaten on the ground…

Epel: I can't stand them for treating our delicious apples like that!!

Epel: It'd be bad if we couldn't ship out our apples, so the village would band together every year to try to keep them crows out.

Cater: THE WHOLE VILLAGE!? Must be a pretty touch sitch. What kinda stuff do you do to get rid of them?

Epel: We'd put up nets, or make noises that the crows wouldn't like… And a bunch of other stuff.

Epel: But those guys are pretty smart, so we can only get rid of them for a short time… They always come back once they realize they're not in danger.

Epel: That's why whenever them crows came back, I'd jump on my broom and hoot 'n holler while chasing after them!

Cater: You'd hoot and holler while chasing after them!? Based on how petite you look, I couldn't imagine you doing something like that…

Epel: If I don't give them a good scare, they'll just keep coming back.

Epel: A few of the crows were more persistent, so I'd get worried that I'd run out of magic while trying to chase them.

Epel: But, thanks to all that, in the end, whenever I was in the orchard, the crows wouldn't come anywhere near it!

Cater: Pretty amazing of you to scare away all those annoying crows that had the whole village in a bind ♪

Epel: Eheheh, thank you.

Cater: If we're talking about when you were back home, that means this all happened before you came here, right? So basically, would you say you're a pretty good flier, Epel-chan?

Epel: Yep! The guys in the Magical Shift club'll praise me up and down for being able to chase down erratic discs.

Cater: Niiice, all your experiences with those crows are probably coming in handy, then.

Epel: Oh, when you put it that way, I guess so…!

Epel: I thought they were just a pain in my side, but… Those crows were useful in their own way too, I guess?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Cater: This painting… It's a scene from the tales of the kind-hearted princess. Ahh, a nighttime date on a magical flying carpet is so romantic ♪

Epel: Is that what this is? Oh, the magic carpet is holding something. Is this… a flower?

Epel: It's really drawn so lifelike. It looks like it was just freshly picked…

Cater: Ahaha. So I take it you're more interested in fresh flowers than a romantic date, Epel-chan?

Epel: I-I mean, when weeds are pulled out, they shrivel up pretty fast…

Epel: And even cut flowers need to be put into a vase as soon as possible, or it loses its vibrancy.

Cater: Really? Looks like you're just as in the know about plants as you are with apples.

Epel: Ehehe. I'm studying really hard right now so that I can be more useful to my village whenever I head back home.

Epel: I've been working on potions that'll keep plants from withering, or help them grow…

Epel: Recently, I've been growing my own plants so I can test my potions on them.

Epel: I panicked a bit when one of the pots broke when I was in the middle of testing out a new potion…

Cater: Eh!? You saying that it grew crazy fast, or something!?

Epel: Oh, no, no! I can't make potions that great yet, or with any effect, really…

Epel: Basically, it just fell because one of my roommates bumped their hand into it while they were getting ready for class.

Cater: Did you get hurt at all? It'd be bad if our cute little Epel-chan got injured!

Epel: Cute…!? …Urgh, yes, I was fine.

Epel: I had to clean up the broken pot and scattered dirt, so I was more worried about being late to class.

Epel: I planned on hitting up the school store afterwards to get another pot, since I didn't have any spares…

Epel: But Jack-kun, my classmate, shared one of his spare pots! I was able to move my plant into that one right away.

Cater: Hm? Why did Jack-kun…? Oh, right. He raises cacti, right?

Epel: Yeah! How did you know?

Cater: I remembered him posting a picture of a cactus on Magicam once. There wasn't any description, so I didn't really get what the picture was supposed to be of at first…

Epel: That must have been the cactus that Jack-kun's been growing, yeah.

Epel: He really tries to take good care of it, and had spare pots laying around.

Epel: So, when I said I broke my own plant's pot, he gave one to me, saying it was in return for some apples I gave him once.

Epel: Cater-san, are there are plants that you take care of?

Cater: Hmmm, I mean, there's a ton of plants in my dorm. But I don't think I'd ever really get around to raising some myself.

Epel: Yeah, it really takes time and effort to raise plants.

Epel: That's why it feels double awesome whenever the plant's flowers bloom or fruit grow!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: Oh hey, it's a painting of the Queen of Hearts! Both she and the animals on her shoulder look pretty proud of themselves.

Cater: It says that this is a painting depicting the scene where the Queen of Hearts had just secured her victory in a croquet match.

Cater: According to legend, the Queen of Hearts was able to hit shots that just curved right into the hoops.

Epel: Shots that curved right into the hoops!? I can't even do that when I aim for them… She's awesome!

Cater: Oh, so you've played croquet before?

Epel: Yes! Last weekend, Ace and Deuce asked me to help them practice.

Epel: Grim-kun and [Yuu]-san also joined us. It was supposed to just be practice, but we kinda ended up playing an actual match…

Epel: Hehe, we really got into it then.

Epel: By the time we finished the game, we were all so hungry. So we all just went to Foothill Town to eat.

Cater: Niiice～ Ah, so young and carefree. And let me guess, you guys went to a hamburger joint?

Epel: Eh, how did you know!?

Cater: When it comes to a joint in town that's affordable even for students, I can't really think of anything much other than that chain restaurant～

Epel: Oh yeah, Ace-kun said something like that too. But it's not like I knew of the restaurant before I came to Sage's Island.

Cater: Are you more the type to avoid fast food hamburger joints?

Epel: I wouldn't say I avoid them… It's a bit of a car ride to get to their closest chain back home, so I haven't had much opportunity to go, is all.

Cater: Oh wow. I totally thought they had a place set up pretty much everywhere, since it's even on this remote island.

Epel: Yeah… When I told Ace-kun and Deuce-kun, they were pretty surprised as well.

Epel: Until those two told me, I didn't even know that they did free refills at this restaurant...

Cater: Hm? I mean, I don't think it's just that one joint that does that, but the whole chain.

Epel: Eh, you mean that's not something only here at Sage's Island!?

Epel: Then that means I could have had free refills in the restaurant I went to back home… I didn't know at all.

Epel: What a waste, I'd only ever get one drink whenever I'd go. I'll have to let my family know next time I head back home.

Cater: Yeah, yeah. Whenever there's free refills, it's so easy to just lounge there forever, too～

Epel: Yeah! And that day, we got really caught up in conversation that it started to get dark… We had to hurry back to campus.

Cater: Oh, I see, I see. Well, thanks for getting along with my little freshie brethren.

Epel: What, you don't need to thank me! I had a ton of fun hanging with them.

Epel: Ah, wait, I'm sorry, I've kept you here a while now!

Cater: Don't worry about it, I was happy to chat with you ♪ I think I'll head off to the museum's café now.

Cater: I heard their menu is themed after the various exhibits here, so. See ya around, Epel-chan.

Epel: Right, see ya. …Well, Vil-san told me to learn a thing or two about beauty while I'm here, so I guess I'll go look around for a painting of the Fairest Queen.

Epel: Oh hey, there's another painting with an apple on it! This one looks really tasty, too.

Epel: Oh yeah, I remember when I was a kid, I heard the story of how the Fairest Queen cast her magic on apples, and would try to pretend to do the same.

Epel: And I'd chant… "Now, turn red. Tempt anyone and everyone to make them hunger for a bite…"

Requested by Anonymous.

[festivalsofmargot]

Sour Times

{Bully!Sebastian Sallow x Bullied!GN!Hufflepuff!}

Introduction: Slight deviation from the official HL story. Rather than everyone being intrigued at your unique arrival to Hogwarts, it’s a badge of dishonor to develop your magic so late. Hufflepuffs have a pathetic reputation, and you’ve been sorted into their house. The only reason Sebastian puts up with you is because he needs your ancient magic... and because he wants you all to himself. But he’d never tell, not when the whole school would start picking on and laughing at him like they did you. Yet, when he sees the way you look at Garreth Weasley, he wonders if everyone else’s approval means anything at all.

Word Count: ~ 6,350

Warnings: Kissing, Angst, Bullying

Author’s Note: I finally finished! 🥳 Us Hufflepuffs always get dunked on and I wanted to play around with that. I watched A Silent Voice and Normal People and couldn’t stop thinking about bully-to-lover scenarios. I’ve proofread so many times but I know I’m missing something, gonna do that thing where I get sneaky and edit here and there. Long one today so kick back, grab a snack, do hot people shit, enjoy 😘

Songs (if interested):

Sour Times - Portishead

Intro/Spectrum - HAELOS

September - Instrumental - Sparky Deathcap (oh... cara mia, how i love him)

Heather - Conan Gray

chance with you - mehro

Awaken - Dario Marianelli, Jack Liebeck, Benjamin Wallfisch

“We know that from time to time, there arise among human beings, people who seem to exude love as naturally as the sun gives out heat.”

- Alan W. Watts

-

As you meandered down the halls to your next class, holding your books with one hand and the other resting in your pocket, someone had grabbed your arm, tugging you behind a corner, causing you to drop your belongings. Whoever it was slammed your back into the wall, then propped up a hand next to your head to trap you in place.

You looked up and met the eyes of your abductor. This position wasn’t anything new to you, though it was new to be here with Sebastian Sallow. 

Someone was always trying to mess with you or ruin your day. Being a late bloomer with magic and getting sorted into Hufflepuff hadn’t done you any favors. Other than that, there wasn’t anything wrong with you per se, it was just your social standing at Hogwarts. Even some Hufflepuffs wanted nothing to do with you, believing you made their house even more embarrassing to be in. Yet, that didn’t stop any of the student body from threatening you to do favors for them. 

“Heard that you can wield ancient magic. Is it true?”

Your furrowed your brows, wondering how word could spread that quickly. But you suppose the magic you used on the troll in Hogsmeade hadn’t been very discreet. Too bad they gave all the credit to Natsai Onai, you might have made some friends with your troll takedown story.

Shifting your gaze down, you nodded your head.

“Prove it.” He held out a folded piece of parchment, the all too familiar blue glow emanating from it.

You took it from his hands and unfolded it to see rune symbols you’d encountered countless times. “Where did you get this?”

“Doesn’t matter, do you recognize those rune symbols?”

You nodded your head looking over the pages. “I see these whenever I need to unlock a door with ancient magic.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched and you finally met his heavy stare. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Exactly. And you’re going to come with me to open one I found.”

You folded the parchment back up and held it out to him. “Okay.”

He snatched it from your hands. “Don’t toy with me. If you don’t help me with this, I can make your life truly miserable here. I’m good friends with Ominis Gaunt, and he’s not afraid to use his family connections to -”

“I said okay.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, not knowing what you were playing at.

“Write me when you have a time and place.” You told him, exhausted.

He eyed you a moment longer, then stepped aside for you to leave. You picked up your books from the ground and kicked the dirt at your feet as you left, taking your time getting to your next class.

“So you’re going to help me? Just like that?” He called after you when he saw it was still just the two of you in the hall.

“Got nothing better to do.” You replied as you kept on your way.

-

Sebastian was the first person to ask for something and come along with you to get it done. Most people would just send you off, but there he was, exploring the cave and fighting giant spiders by your side.

That little outing turned out to be the first of many. Over time, Sebastian explained his sister’s curse and everything he had done to try to find a cure. He kept it to himself, but he was happy to find someone he could go through this journey with, someone who wasn’t trying to make him abandon hope, even if it was the Hogwarts outcast.

You made the mistake of assuming this meant you were friends in public. When you tried to approach him at Hogwarts, he looked at you as if you had grown horns. He caught sight of a few students whispering to each other and glancing your way. In a panic, he knocked the books from your hands, scattering them to the floor. 

“Looks like the Hufflepuff had a little accident.” He jested loud enough for everyone around to hear. He walked away to meet up with some other Slytherin students who were in hysterics at what he had just done. He glanced back your way and it took everything in him to keep the amused look on his face. You were picking your books up off the floor and Garreth Weasley had come to help you. Sebastian noticed he had said something to cheer you up and it brought a smile to your face. 

And then a thought surfaced in his head. I think I'd rather be the one who made you smile.

-

Sebastian’s public displays of discourtesy hadn’t let up. He felt awful, but he couldn’t stand the scrutiny he would get if he was seen with you. Just because he could see all these wonderful qualities in you, didn’t mean everyone else could. The Slytherins especially would give him a tough time. He would get defensive, spewing every excuse he could think of. “Don’t be daft. I only needed to see the Hufflepuff about charms class, nothing more.” 

The guilt ate away at him. So when the two of you came across the scriptorium door that could only be opened by casting the cruciatus curse, he felt this could be his penance. But you refused to cast it on him.

He fisted the fabric of your shirt, jerking you towards him. “Dammit, why not?!” He demanded, incredulous. Dread arose in him, because he knew if he casted it on you he would be causing true agony. Everything he had done to you at Hogwarts was an act of rudeness, he never wanted to do anything that caused you pain in this way.

“Because I wouldn’t mean it.”

His face recoiled as if you had slapped him. He was unable to believe it. After all you’ve put up with, how could you not mean to harm him, how could you not want to? “I have been nothing but cruel to you, this is your chance to be cruel back! I know you hate me! I know you hate everyone!”

“I don’t hate you.” You placed your hands atop his that were gripping your shirt, in hopes it would calm him down. “Cast it on me, Sebastian. Get us out of here.”

Sebastian released your shirt, shoving you back. He turned away from you and rubbed a steadying hand down his face. Using the frustration he felt with you then, he spun to face you and recited, “Crucio!”

You fell to the floor, your screams of suffering echoed through his head.

Sebastian shot up in bed in a cold sweat, breathing coming out uneven. He rubbed his face in his hands and let out a shaky sigh. Ever since the scriptorium, he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, the nightmare had kept replaying in his head.

-

You arrived back at the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room rather late in the night. It was passed curfew but you wanted to get all of Sirona’s lost letters back to her. Seeing the look on her face had made missing out on a few hours of sleep all worth it. 

You startled when you saw a figure move out from the darkness. It was Sebastian, his eyes were red and puffy, dark circles had formed under them.

“Sebast -”

“Why’d you have me do it?” He demanded, his voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you -” He couldn’t stop the tears that fell. His shoulders began to shake as breathy sobs escaped him.

You ran up and pulled him into your arms, gently guiding his head down to your shoulder, and he let himself cry. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” You soothed.

He was the one who casted crucio on you, yet here you were comforting him. He felt worthless. You weren’t like anyone he had ever met. You never wanted anything in return, doing things purely out of the kindness of your heart even if it nearly killed you. He couldn’t grasp such a concept, and it overwhelmed him.

He went on his knees before you and took your hand into both of his. “Cast it on me. Please, it’s the only way I can make it all right. I did the wrong thing and I need to make it all right.” He pleaded.

You knelt on the ground with him, meeting his level. You pulled your hand from his and placed it on his cheek. You tried to meet his eyes. “Look at me. I will never do that to you.”

Though you meant for the words to comfort him, they felt like a knife to his chest. He smacked your hand away and scrambled to his feet, running out of sight.

He knew it then as he arrived back at his dorm room, and he let himself feel it entirely, as if he were punishing himself. He was in love with you, and he could never have you, not after everything he had done.

-

In the time that followed, Sebastian had wanted to act as if the scriptorium and his confrontation with you never happened. You kept an eye on him but went along with it. Your discreet meetings and his insults towards you resumed.

When Sebastian asked to meet briefly about information on a relic he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spellbook, it was a good day for the both of you.

Your face was bright and ecstatic as you looked down at the thunderbrew potion in your hands. “It took me forever to get the ingredients, but I think I got a knack for brewing.” You couldn’t help but gush to Sebastian, trying to stifle your giggles and keep your voice low so no one around the two of you could hear. 

Sebastian didn’t dare let it grow, but a charmed smile tugged at the corner of his lips. If he was going to react to you, he'd try to make it look like you were a nuisance to be around.

“Do you think if - well, I mean - what would you think if -” You began timidly, biting at your lip. Sebastian didn’t look at you, but he listened close, clinging to each word you left him on. “Do you think Garreth would be impressed if I showed him?”

And away went any temptation to smile, he opened the book in his hand to act like he was reading. He discovered that to be the consequence whenever he found himself being pulled towards you, he’d always get slapped with the reality that you were pulled towards Garreth. The other day, when everyone was standing around waiting for Defense Against the Dark Arts class to start, he caught sight of you looking out the window, the sunlight painted your features bewitchingly. He made his way over and saw you were watching Garreth playing Summoner’s Court. “Day dreaming you were actually useful in this class, Hufflepuff?” He had taunted. He’d claim it was to keep up the act but it was really in response to the hurt he felt. The pain only worsened when you glanced his way fleetingly and went right back to watching Garreth with undivided attention.

You noted his silence and felt stupid for even bringing it up to him. “Sorry, I got carried away. I know you don’t care.”

“I think Weasley will soil his breeches no matter what potion you show him.” He said bitterly. “Why do you think he’s so great anyway?”

You didn’t answer and Sebastian looked up to see your gaze following the red headed boy as he walked by, laughing along with a few other students. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and he looked back down to his book, eyes scanning the words but not taking them in.

“He’s the only person who’s been nice to me since day one. But I think that’s just who he is, looks like he’s nice to everyone.” You said the last part more to yourself. A chill went through the air and you began to shiver, seemingly too distracted to care due to where your attention laid.

“Where are your robes?” Sebastian tried to keep his voice monotone.

“Just forgot them is all.” Your eyes followed Garreth until he stopped walking to speak with some of his friends.

“Here. Take mine.” Sebastian exhaled as if he were annoyed, but he wasn’t. He was in earnest at the thought of wrapping you up in his robes.

You turned your attention back to him and shook your head. “No no, people will see. It’s alright.” Gaze returning to Garreth.

Sebastian stopped, robes halfway down his arms, then he shrugged them back on. “Oh... right.” He watched you shift back and forth on your feet, your fingers tapping against the potion’s flask. He could see the ache to run to the Gryffindor clear as day on your face.

“Send me an owl if anything else comes up for the relic.” You said without looking at him, and made your way over to Garreth.

He knew he should turn the other way and act like he was never speaking to you in the first place, as he always did after your furtive meetups. Yet his eyes remained glued to your form. As he watched you talking to Garreth with a beaming smile, laughing along with him as you showed him your thunderbrew potion, insurmountable heartache filled his chest. 

It had finally hit him how he couldn’t care less what people thought, they didn’t even know you. No one knew you like he did, especially not Weasley. If everyone saw you through his eyes, they could easily see you were one of the most capable people at Hogwarts. If all it took to win you over was being kind to you since the beginning, he wanted to kick himself. I’ve been the biggest prat.

How could he have treated you the way he had? Asking for your help all this time, but not wanting to be seen with you in public. He had been nothing short of a coward. His fear of what others thought had led him to lose any chance with you. You were the one that’s helped him through this nightmare of a curse on his sister, you were the one willing to take on immense agony in the scriptorium for him, you were the one he yearned for. He could say the same for none of these people.

The blood drained from Sebastian’s face when he witnessed Garreth slip off his Gryffindor robes and put them on you. It was as if the wind was knocked out of him, his breathing started coming out shallow. He told himself to get out of there. 

The first place he could think of was his dorm. He had tunnel vision the whole way there, a few students had asked if he was feeling alright as he passed. He waved them off, saying something about a potion brew gone wrong, he couldn’t fully remember. When he got to his dorm room, he burst through the door and sat at the edge of his bed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and tried to steady his breathing. As soon as the sick feeling in his stomach started to dissipate, he laid back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ominis asked, sitting himself on his own bed.

It took Sebastian a moment to be able to speak. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just feeling a little sick is all.”

“Is this about the Hufflepuff who helped us in the sciptorium?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and that was the only answer Ominis needed.

“Nobody cares you know. Sure it’s fun to make fun of a Hufflepuff, that’s nothing new. And one that developed their magic so late? Easy target. But in the end, no one cares. After everything that’s happened, it’s no surprise you feel the way you do.” Ominis never hesitated to call people out, but every now and then he had a way of saying what needed to be said without making someone feel too ashamed.

Sebastian should have known this, he should have had this conversation with himself before it could have gotten this far. He felt like such a child then, laying in his bed, pouting at the predicament he put himself in. But it was hard to pick himself back up, he felt his relationship with you was unsalvageable at this point and it was his fault. He was the nuisance you had to put up with because of that pesky Hufflepuff loyalty of yours, and Garreth was your escape. Garreth could make you happy just by being in your line of sight. He could only dream of having that effect on you at this point.

-

Sebastian had searched for you all day but to no avail. As a last resort, he made his way to the undercroft, he cringed thinking back on the time he first showed it to you. “I’m only showing you this place so we won’t be seen working together. You’re not welcome here if I’m not here.” It wasn’t true, but how would you have ever known otherwise? He had been so cruel to you, it was no wonder you wanted to run into Garreth’s arms. He had practically shoved you his way. 

The sound of sniffling stopped him in his tracks. He pressed forward cautiously and saw you were sitting on the floor against the wall with your head down.

“What’s happened?” Sebastian strode up and knelt before you.

“Oh! Sebastian.” You startled. “I - I’m sorry, I’ll leave. Just allergies. Came down here to escape all that pollen.” You wiped at your face quickly, he could tell your eyes were puffy from crying.

His inner voice was screaming at him that this was his chance, as of that moment he could start taking steps in the right direction with you. He could become the person you wanted, slowly but surely. “Talk to me.” He sat beside you and took your hand in his, he began stroking it with his thumb in hopes it gave you some comfort.

You were taken aback by his actions, but then surmised that was probably how much he pitied you. You felt humiliated at the thought. The Hufflepuff got caught crying like a sad baby bird in the rain, who wouldn’t feel bad? You pulled your hand free from his. “It’s nothing, I just needed a moment. I’m truly sorry I came down here without you, I couldn’t think of any other place. I - I panicked.” You got up and began your escape out. “It won’t happen again.”

Sebastian tripped over himself as he went to chase after you. He ran up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you in place. “Don’t go. Please, talk to me.”

His touch felt wrong to you and you slid free from his embrace. You didn’t feel safe with Sebastian, you didn’t feel safe with anyone at Hogwarts for that matter. But the look on his face had convinced you somewhat he wanted to know what was wrong. “I just had a bad day.” 

He took a step towards you, hoping you would keep going. 

You rolled your eyes at the foolishness you felt. “I worked up the courage to speak to Garreth about how I felt and -” You stopped and shook your head. “This is stupid, I don’t know why I’m telling you this -”

“What did he do?” His voice was direct, body stiffening.

You let out a sigh, hating that you were revisiting the memory. You looked down and began twiddling your thumbs. “I told Garreth how I felt and asked him on a date to The Three Broomsticks. He laughed in my face and said no. Said he’d be friendly with me in public but he wasn’t going to be seen on a date with me. And then he said we could still have some fun in private together.” You recalled the incident, disgusted. “But what else should I have expected? You said it yourself, no one wants to be seen with someone like me.”

Sebastian had never seen your features turn so harsh, and he hadn’t hated himself more than he did in that moment. "I never should have said that to you. Please, you have to know I never meant it.” 

Your eyes didn’t meet his, he could tell you were still angry, not just with him, but with the world. He was surprised you didn’t get to this point sooner. Hufflepuffs really could put up with a lot before they’d had enough. 

Sure, he wanted you to have feelings for him, but more than anything he wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. Seeing your hurt expression then, he wanted to step up more than ever. “No good prick.” Sebastian dug his heels in the ground to storm out of the undercroft. “I’m going to kill him.”

Your eyes went wide. “What? No, it’s alright! Forget I said anything!” You grabbed his wrist trying to hold him back, but he just kept walking, dragging you along with him. “W - What happened to staying out of each other’s lives? You don’t owe me anything, Sebastian! Just drop it!”

Sebastian stopped to face you, he used the grip you had on his wrist and yanked you to him. He steadied you as you crashed into him, taking your face in his other hand and placing his lips atop yours. He wanted to convey everything he felt for you in that kiss, every thank you he should have said, every apology he should have made. You didn’t deserve any of the treatment you got at Hogwarts, especially from him. 

His brows furrowed as he deepened the kiss. He tried to be tender, but the urgency was what took over with how he moved his lips against yours. Your grip fell from his wrist in shock and he used his now free hand to grab your waist and pull you flush to him. He felt you kiss him back, but with hesitancy, and then you pushed him away.

He looked at your stunned expression, “This feels wrong.” You whispered.

Shoving down the sting he felt at your rejection, he strode out of the undercroft, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded.

-

Sebastian spotted Garreth in the middle of the quidditch field, joking around with some friends. “Oi, Weasley!” He called as he strode up to the red head.

Garreth turned away from his group. “Yeah? What is it, Sall-” His words were cutoff when Sebastian punched him square in the jaw. He shot a hand up to where the throbbing began to kick in. “What in Merlin’s na - OOMF!” Sebastian rammed into his gut, tackling him to the ground. It finally kicked in what was happening and Garreth began to shove and punch back. Nearby students gathered around in a circle, hooting and hollering for them to keep going.

“Show that Gryffindor how it’s done, Sallow!”

“Get him good, Weasley!”

“Levioso!” Sebastian and Garreth were pulled apart and lifted into the air at Madam Kogawa’s spell cast. The two boys eyed each other, bruised and bloody, wanting to go back at it as she approached. 

“I see detentions are in order.”

-

When Garreth confronted him, demanding what his deal was, Sebastian had dug into him. Shoving his finger into his chest, telling him he didn’t deserve someone like you.

“Oh please, as if you’re not doing the exact same thing. Everyone sees the ‘secret’ meetings the two of you have. I hardly think you’re the person to fault me.”

Sebastian couldn’t say anything in retaliation, because he was right. He deserved every punch and kick Weasley landed. But things were different now, and he was going to stop at nothing to prove it to you.

-

Sebastian leaned against the kegs just outside the Hufflepuff common room. He stood up straight when the entrance opened and you stepped out. Your gaze landed on him and your face twisted at his state.

“Are you alright?” You ran up to him and gently grabbed his chin to begin examining his bruising. Remembering you two weren’t in private, you yanked your hand back. “Sorry.” You glanced around to make sure no one had seen. It pained him, that after all the time you spent together, this was the habit he enforced in you. He grabbed at your hand and placed it against his cheek.

“I’m fine.” He thought about his next words carefully. “I'm not ashamed to be seen with you.” He began. “I’m so sorry I ever told you I was. I haven’t been there for you. If I could go back, I’d do it all differently. I really would.”

You avoided his gaze and looked down, pulling your hand away. His touch still felt wrong, and thinking about his kiss in the undercroft made you just as uneasy. Everything was so backwards, your mind couldn’t keep up. Not long ago, Garreth was the one being kind to you while Sebastian was itching to get as far away from you as possible. And now, Garreth had you repulsed and Sebastian had an avid interest to be by your side. You were in a constant state of confusion and had a strange desire for things to go back to how they were.

“Sebastian...” Your defenses went up as he moved closer to you, wanting to show you he was listening. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t believe you. All year you’ve dreaded being around me and now I’m supposed to believe your feelings changed just like that?”

Sebastian nodded his head, seeing what you were saying. He shouldn’t have expected you to be okay with all this just because he said so. “I understand. I’ve been awful to you. But I can make it all up to you, you’ll see. I can be what you want.”

You tried to search his eyes for some sort of reason for this shift in him, still not really taking in his words. “I think I need some space.” You were sick of boys playing with your feelings like this. There was only so much you could take. Pretty impressive trait of Hufflepuffs, anyone else would have felt worn thin ages ago.

Sebastian swallowed thickly and nodded his head. He forced a polite smile and left at the nearest floo.

He needs his space too. You thought. That way he’ll get over these feelings he supposedly has for you. You didn’t believe him for a second. You’ve seen other students swooning over each other. It definitely wasn’t what was happening between you and Sebastian Sallow. The only experiences you’ve had with him were secret meetings and him getting humiliated if someone associated the two of you together. He expected all that to just go away with one secret kiss? It wasn’t going to happen.

Maybe he went after someone else and they rejected him, and he was so desperate for affection he came to me. You concluded.

-

The days that followed, Sebastian kept his distance from you without really keeping his distance. Every morning, he got up early to get a flower from the fields surrounding Hogwarts, each one different than the day before. Whenever you got up from your desk or left your books unattended, he would cast the disillusionment spell on himself and place the flower in your book for you to stumble across later.

He didn’t need to see your reaction to it, but every now and then if you were in the same area, he’d be on the lookout for it. Sebastian watched from afar as you began looking through your book on a bench in the Transfiguration Courtyard. But his blood started to boil when he saw Garreth make his way over and sit down next to you. 

You looked up from your book, a questioning look on your face. 

Garreth was visibly nervous and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you the other day. My mother raised me better than that.” 

You hummed as you looked across his features, noticing he was bruised up like Sebastian was. “What happened to you?”

Garreth scratched the back of his head. “Got some sense knocked into me by your friend, Sallow.”

“He’s not my friend.” You said plainly, trying to bring your attention back to your book. A part of you was annoyed Sebastian had actually followed through with going after Garreth, and another part was a little pleased the both of them landed strikes on the other.

He looked to your face then. “I really do like you, you know.” He confessed, and you returned his gaze. He was looking at you like he was sorry this wasn’t what he had said to you in the first place. “But I felt the pressure of everyone, and I told myself I should be embarrassed to be around you. But I’m not. Everyone else can sod off, I can see everything you’re doing even if they refuse to. You’re nothing short of incredible. I truly am sorry for what I said.”

You gave him a small nod. “Apology accepted.”

He smiled and let out a sigh of relief, then held out his hand. “Friends?”

You took it and shook. “Friends.”

He held your hand in his when you tried to pull away. “Don’t suppose that date to Three Broomsticks is still on the table?”

You scoffed but went silent when you saw he was serious. You shook your head and pulled your hand from his grasp.

“Right.” He looked down dejectedly. “Guess I deserved that, didn’t I?” He chuckled awkwardly, getting up and clearing his throat. “I’ll see you around then.” His voice was strained.

Sebastian watched as Garreth left you and made his way over to him. The red head gave him a cordial slap on the shoulder as he walked passed. “Looks like we both blew it, Sallow.” 

-

You hated to admit it, but Sebastian was making some headway with you. It had been at least a few weeks since you told him you needed space, and he had given it to you. You thought it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to do, but he looked like he was struggling. Every time you caught each other’s eye, he looked like he was holding his breath, hoping that would be the day you’d approach him. You thought it’d wear off after a bit, and the distance between the two of you would have him come to his senses. But he seemed undeterred, just as dedicated as the day before if not more so.

You especially hated to admit that every time you found a flower in your books, the flutter in your chest would grow. Each time you needed to talk yourself down, because any day now Sebastian would give up and go back to only wanting to see you about his progress on getting a cure for Anne. 

But then you’d think about how he kissed you. There was so much need in it. In the moment it felt off. But the more your revisited the memory, thinking back on how his lips moved against yours, you got this feeling of being genuinely wanted, perfectly safe. And that sense came from Sebastian Sallow of all people?

You watched him as he took notes in charms class. He was pretty good looking, wasn’t he? You came to notice these passed few weeks now that he was being kind to you. 

He looked up from his notes and glanced your way. You held his gaze when he did, giving him a soft smile. His eyes grew wide and he became fidgety in his seat. He smiled back and his ears burned red. It was the most he’d gotten from you and he didn’t know how to handle it. 

You looked back down to your notes and he looked back down at his, trying to contain his giddiness. He felt like he made a huge leap in progress and he couldn’t wait to keep going. It was just a smile, but it was the only sign he needed that he was headed in the right direction with you. He wondered if he should keep going with the flowers or step it up a bit. He wanted to respect your wishes and keep his distance, but he also wanted to do more for you.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice you approach when class was dismissed. “Sebastian?”

He stiffened, panic flooding through him. He was mentally preparing to chase after you from afar, he didn’t think he’d have the right words to say face to face yet. But he willed himself to speak anyway. “Yes?”

“Walk with me to herbology?” You eyed him, like you were testing him.

Sebastian knew what you were doing, this would be the first time he’d be seen with you in public willingly and not act like he was being forced to speak with you. Bring it on. “Of course.” Sebastian grabbed your books and smiled at your surprised expression. “Come on then.”

You joined his side and as you walked with him, you noticed he wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time getting to your next class. You had to admit, you expected him to want to speed up the process to get it over with and minimize the amount of people who saw the two of you together. But instead, he let himself look smitten as he stood by your side.

The whispers and glances started up as the two of you walked along. He looked to you and noticed you didn’t seem quite as at ease as he was. He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder and you couldn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. He was making butterflies dance in your stomach and a funny ache for him grew. You peeked back at him and the way he was smiling at you made you want to tug at his tie and have him kiss you senseless again. Calm down, don’t let him win you over yet. You lectured yourself.

When the two of you arrived in herbology, he made sure to grab a potting station next to yours. Professor Garlick called everyone up to grab some seeds for the day’s class. As you were about to go up with everyone else, he wrapped an arm around your waist to stop you. “I’ll get it.” He said in a low tone near your ear. His hand lingered and dragged across your waist until he was too far to touch you anymore. He shot you a smirk over his shoulder as he walked away.

That funny ache you felt turned into something simmering hot within you. When he came back with the mallowsweet seeds, he took your hand in his and placed them on your palm. His fingers dragged across your hand and you peered at him through your lashes. 

“Be careful.” He said, releasing you and turning to his potting station. “You look like you want to kiss me.”

A burning sensation hit your cheeks and you turned to your own station. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Silly me then.” 

The two of you focused, or at least tried to, on your pots before you. You planted the seeds and padded down the soil, then awaited further instruction from Professor Garlick. But you tuned her words out as you eyed Sebastian up and down. Thankfully, you were already experienced with mallowsweet, so you weren’t too concerned about falling behind.

Sebastian watched you through the corner of his eye, he could feel your eyes on him and it drove him mad. As soon as class was over, he was going to try to reenact the first time he demanded your help. Except this time when he pulled you into a hidden corner, there wouldn’t be as much talking. His jaw clenched at the anticipation.

You usually enjoyed herbology, but that day’s class was dragging on a little too long. Your mind billowed with thoughts of Sebastian’s lips and ideas of how you were going to get them back on yours.

“Class dismissed.” Professor Garlick sang. You and Sebastian immediately looked to one another, knowing exactly what you wanted to do, but unsure how you were going to get there.

“I think I -” You began, not really knowing where you were going to take your words. “I think I left something in the undercroft.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along. 

Once the two of you arrived in the undercroft, he closed the gate behind you and pressed you up against the nearest wall, slamming his mouth against yours. The two of you wanted to devour each other whole. A muffled moan escaped you and you cupped his face in your hands. His hands gripped your hips greedily as he tried to savor every sound he could get from you.

Unable to keep in one place long with so much of you available to him, he began kissing along your jaw, down your neck, below your ear. He could feel you quiver at his kisses and he wanted to do everything he could to keep you squirming.

You whimpered, and he knew he found the spot below your ear to be your weakness. “I... I think we left our books in herbology.” You breathed pleasantly as he kept at it.

Sebastian hummed as he continued his magic. “Such a shame.” He knew he still had a ways to go with you. No matter how long it would take him, he was going to make things right. But if he could tempt you into a kiss here and there along the way, he hoped you wouldn’t mind.

[blues824]

Can we get an octavinelle reaction to a Mary Poppins like reader?

I just imagine they're working at the monstro and floyd in a mood swing but then is entranced and distracted by the reader singing "a spoon full of sugar"

I forgot I had this in my inbox until I started writing the requests I had motivation for. Gender-neutral Reader who is not Yuu, but is based off of Mary Poppins.

Azul Ashengrotto

He absolutely agreed that you were “practically perfect in every way”. You made for a perfect waiter, as your kind and polite disposition made for a relaxing time for guests of the Lounge. Not just that, but you were very nondiscriminatory toward everyone.

You were very diligent in your classes, and he was often caught staring at you. To him, you were the equivalent of an angel. As you were clocking in to your shift, you would even give him some tips on how to reel in customers so that they sign more contracts. 

However, after the First Years defeated him when he overblotted, you were the one assigned to look after him in the infirmary. You were strict, too. He could have sworn that you had eyes in the back of your head with how vigilant you were. Your nanny instincts took over, and when you fed him some medicine, you poured it out of a bottle.

The thing was, it changed color because it looked to be a dark green in the bottle, but when it went onto the spoon, it was a pink color. It tasted like candy, which was very surprising to him. After he asked where you got the magic medicine, you responded by asking “what magic?” This literally drove him crazy.

Jade Leech

He was very happy to hear that his crush since freshman year was looking for a waiter job at the Mostro Lounge. The two of you actually made for great entertainment, as you both had similar dispositions. The eel was aware that you loved to dance, so whenever both of your hands were empty, he would place his hands upon your waist and twirl you around so as to not harshly bump into you.

You didn’t seem to mind his more intimidating nature either. What was funny was that you brought out your trusty tape measure and measured the very tall eel, and it said “Tied to nature and Y/N”, which made you a little flustered. He made a comment about the measurement not being wrong as he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it.

When the two of you are on the closing shift, you often use your magic to tidy up so it wouldn’t be too late for him to walk you back to your own dorm. You were very graceful in grabbing your carpet bag and the umbrella, and you placed your arm in his as he accompanied you.

Eventually, you did show your strict side when Jade got sick after hiking in the rain. You poured some medicine out, and he prepared for a bitter taste only for it to taste like a sweetened green tea. He didn’t mind being pampered by his beloved, but whenever he tried to sit up you would make him lay back down.

Floyd Leech

For everyone, you were a godsend. Whenever Floyd’s mood was down in the dumps, you would be called to help out. He was just so freaking in love with you that just seeing you made him brighten up. There was one time where he was having a bad day, and you sat with him and sang to him a song that you had sung to some kids you babysat a while ago. Needless to say, it made his day much better.

Your strict nature definitely showed whenever the eel wanted your attention while you were trying to serve guests. You would remind him that working hours are for work and you would cross your arms as you turned your back to him to emphasize your point. He would think you were joking at first, but quickly realized that you were 

This man is the Bert to your Mary. He’s goofy, he’s clumsy, but most of all: he cares. He might not be as keen about singing or dancing as you, but he can make you laugh more than anyone else ever could. He loved that he was the reason for your smile, and he made it a point to make you smile multiple times a day.

One time, he came to you complaining about sore muscles after basketball practice. So, you made him sit down on his bed as you prepared a few ice packs as well as started massaging his shoulders. The pure intimacy this displayed made the eel super flustered.

[dullgecko]

Riz's strong sense of smell means he has begun to associate certain smells with his friends based on what they usually wear.

Adaine is vanilla, a combination with her lotions being scented that way and with her baking.

Fabian is citrus. It's maybe to due recalling some fanon about him and oranges, but he seems like a citrus type of guy.

Gorgug is a bit tricky, maybe metallic smells? Or the smell trees due to the Thistlespring tree.

I am not sure about Kristen or Fig's smells however.

Adaine used to smell like an overly flowery elven soap when she still lived with her parents. It wasnt bad but Riz didnt think it suited her at all. Adaine almost always smells like a vanilla sugar cookie now. The other kids may have helped this along by gifting her a set of specifically scented shampoos, body washes and lotions after her house burned down. She always buys exactly the same brand whenever the old ones run out.

Fabians dad was a pirate so he grew up hearing of the horror of scurvy as his bedtime stories. When he was little he often used to have nightmares about it and wake up crying, Cathilda soothing him back to sleep by cutting him up some oranges as a midnight snack to calm him down. Something about the smell of citrus just makes him happy now so any body mist he uses is usually scented that way. (He tried to switch it up to a fancy aftershave that wasnt citrus scented after the whole nightmare king mission as part of his whole identity crisis but Riz veto'd it /hard/ so he swapped back to his usual scents)

Gorgug smells of his parents laundry detergent and some sort of anti-perspirant deodorant with a name for the scent that doesnt make sense that he's used since middle school. Something like 'blue metal' or 'ice breeze'. Its not a bad smell, its actually really nice, but if you had to ask Riz what it smelled like he'd just have to answer Gorgug.

Kristen used to smell of butter and popcorn, but the scent has shifted drastically after she became a cleric of Cassandra. Now she smells mosty of a walk through a forest at night; like mist and trees and lavender and soft soil underfoot. Riz associates it with feeling safe, because its the strongest whenever she uses her healing magic.

Fig smells of clove smoke and leather and burning paper. Riz can practically tell where she is in the school with his eyes shut and his ears covered at this point. She used to also spray on a bunch of some perfume she stole from her mom, but it made Riz sneeze too much so she stopped. If she uses her infernal magic though she breifly smells strongly of brimstone and sulfur, but the smell fades pretty quickly.

[badger-tales]

Everywhere and Nowhere//F.W x Reader (finale)

a/n: finally the last chapter i hope people enjoyed this! also i was going to post this later but god im just so excited for this series tbh!!! so this is the end of the series super cute super fluffy!!

word count: 4.5k

request:

Hiiii! :) I was wondering if you could do a oneshot about a fred weasley x reader idea I've had for forever where the reader was a hat stall for a really long time. To the point she had to be put aside to be sorted later. Plot twist, she never gets sorted. I always wondered what would happen if the sorting hat couldn't decide what house to put someone in. I imagine she would have a room in the faculty tower or something, and because she doesn't have a house but she is a student, she would be able to figure out how to get into every common room. I'm really tired right now, so sorry if this sounds really bad, I promise it sounds better when I'm coherent. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, though 🫶

Thanks sm!!!

Returning for Fifth Year

As Y/N stepped off the Hogwarts Express at the start of her fifth year, there was an unmistakable sense of change in the air. The towering spires of the castle were the same, the familiar hum of magic whispered through the grounds, but something inside her had shifted. This year felt different—charged with a new energy she couldn’t quite place.

Waiting for her on the platform, as always, were Fred and George, both grinning like they had just pulled off something spectacular—which, knowing them, wasn’t far from the truth. The twins had become a constant presence in her life over the past two years, their friendship growing into something steady and unshakable. But lately, especially with Fred, there had been something more—an undercurrent she didn’t fully understand, but one she couldn’t ignore.

Fred spotted her first, waving her over with that familiar, wide grin. “Y/N! About time you showed up!”

George elbowed Fred with a playful smirk. “Don’t scare her off, mate.”

Y/N smiled, feeling warmth bloom in her chest at the sight of them. It was strange to think about how different her life had been before Fred and George. Hogwarts had once felt like a vast, lonely place, full of secrets that she had explored on her own. Now, with the twins by her side, it felt like home. And yet, there was something about Fred that had been quietly evolving, a connection between them that made her heart beat a little faster whenever he was near.

“You two look like you’ve already caused some trouble,” Y/N teased as she reached them, raising an eyebrow.

George grinned in mock innocence. “Trouble? Us? Never.”

Fred shot her a wink, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We were just waiting for you to get here. Can’t have any fun without our favorite partner-in-crime.”

Y/N laughed, falling into step between them as they began the walk back to the castle. But as they chatted and caught up, she started to notice small, subtle shifts. Fred’s shoulder brushed against hers a little more often than usual, and she caught him glancing at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. The easy banter between them hadn’t changed, but there was something different in the way his presence made her feel—a flicker of warmth that went beyond friendship.

She tried to shake off the thoughts, telling herself it was her imagination playing tricks on her after a summer spent apart. But as the days passed and they slipped back into their familiar routines—planning pranks, navigating secret passageways, and sharing quiet moments in her room in the faculty tower—the feeling only grew.

Fred had always been playful, quick with a joke or a grin, but now his teasing felt softer, more personal. He’d linger when they talked, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made her stomach flip. And she found herself lingering too—staying just a little closer, letting his warmth radiate through the space between them.

One evening, a few weeks into the term, the three of them were huddled in her room, planning their next big prank. George was sprawled on the floor, sketching out the details, while Fred leaned against the desk, his attention drifting more toward Y/N than the prank itself. They were laughing about something—one of George’s wild ideas, no doubt—but Y/N noticed Fred’s gaze had softened, his smile more relaxed than usual.

“You alright, Fred?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she leaned back in her chair.

He blinked, his grin widening as he met her eyes. “More than alright.”

George, catching the exchange, groaned dramatically. “Oh, Merlin’s beard. You two are unbearable.” He got to his feet, rolling up the parchment with a flourish. “I’m heading back to the common room. Try not to get too mushy while I’m gone.”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she was about to protest when George shot her a wink before making his way out of the room, closing the door behind him with an exaggerated sigh.

The room felt suddenly quiet, the air thick with unsaid things. Y/N glanced at Fred, who was still leaning against the desk, his arms crossed casually but his eyes focused entirely on her. The playful spark in his expression had softened into something warmer, something that made her heart skip a beat.

“So,” Fred said, his voice teasing but gentler than usual, “you think George is right? Are we unbearable?”

Y/N laughed softly, trying to keep the mood light even though she could feel the tension building. “Maybe just a little.”

Fred’s grin turned lopsided as he took a small step closer. “Well, if it’s just us, I think we can be as unbearable as we like.”

There was a lightness in his words, but his gaze had grown more serious, more intent. Y/N felt her breath catch, her mind racing to figure out what to say, how to handle this moment that felt both exciting and terrifying.

“I guess we could,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended, her eyes meeting his.

---

The Return to Mischief

The beginning of Y/N's fifth year was a whirlwind of OWL preparations, new classes, and increasingly frequent late-night planning sessions with Fred and George. Their evenings together had become routine, a mix of creative chaos and friendship. Most nights, the three of them would gather in Y/N’s small room in the faculty tower, where they sprawled out across the floor or perched on her desk, heads bent over prank plans and new product ideas for *Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes*—the joke shop Fred and George had been dreaming of starting.

Y/N had grown more and more drawn into their world of mischief. She found herself contributing more than she had before, her voice becoming an essential part of the creative process. She offered insights on how to refine their prank ideas, how to enhance the magical effectiveness of their products, and—perhaps most importantly—how to use Hogwarts' hidden passageways to avoid detection.

One night, they sat huddled around a box of sweets that Fred had been tinkering with for weeks. The enchantment made anyone who ate one grow temporary antlers, and Fred was testing the final tweaks. He tossed one to George, who inspected it with exaggerated care before tossing it back, unimpressed.

As Fred examined the sweet, he caught Y/N’s eye and grinned, his voice dropping a little lower than usual. “You know, Y/N,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, “we couldn’t do half this stuff without you.”

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest, her heart skipping a beat at his words. She shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as possible. “You’d be fine without me. Probably just get caught more often.”

Fred chuckled, his voice warm, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playful spark. “Maybe. But it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”

There was something different in the way he said it this time, something about the way his gaze lingered on her, not just with mischief but with a quiet intensity that made Y/N’s stomach flip. For a brief moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, and Y/N felt herself at a loss for words. The silence that hung between them was thick with unspoken feelings she wasn’t ready to name.

Before she could find a response, George broke the moment, completely oblivious to the shift in atmosphere. “Oi, stop hogging her attention, Fred,” he grumbled playfully, holding up a sketch of a new product he’d been working on. “I need help with this one.”

Fred shot his brother a mock glare, clearly annoyed at the interruption, but the moment had passed. The charged silence dissolved into their usual banter, and though the tension faded, the warmth between Fred and Y/N lingered.

As the evening wore on, the three of them fell back into their familiar rhythm of planning and laughing, but Y/N couldn’t shake the memory of Fred’s gaze or the way her heart had reacted to his words. She had always felt close to Fred and George, but there was something new simmering just below the surface, something that had been growing steadily between her and Fred, and it was becoming harder to ignore.

And though they didn’t talk about it, Y/N knew that things between them had begun to shift in a way that might soon be impossible to ignore.

---

Subtle Shifts

As the months slipped by, Y/N found herself more attuned to the subtle shifts between her and Fred. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing that could be easily pointed out or discussed, but the signs were there—small, fleeting moments that spoke volumes. The way Fred always seemed to sit just a little closer to her during their late-night planning sessions, how his hand would brush hers when passing a note or reaching for the same prank material, or how his gaze would meet hers across the room, even in the middle of their chaotic pranks. 

Fred had always been the one to make her laugh, to bring lightness and joy into any situation, but lately, there were moments when he seemed more serious, as if there was something weighing on him that he hadn’t yet found the words for. His focus, at times, was entirely on her, and though nothing had been said, there was a quiet intensity growing between them that neither could ignore.

It wasn’t something they discussed—not yet, anyway—but the unspoken connection between them was becoming harder to deny.

One evening, after an especially brilliant prank involving enchanted fireworks that lit up an entire hallway in a spectacular display of color and sound, the three of them hurried back to Y/N’s room, breathless and giddy from the success. George, ever the master of dramatic entrances, flopped face-first onto the bed without a care, leaving Y/N and Fred to collapse onto the floor, their laughter bubbling up as they tried to catch their breath.

“That was brilliant,” Fred said, turning to Y/N with a grin that was filled with admiration. “You really outdid yourself with the timing, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she smiled at him. “It was your idea, Fred,” she said, trying to deflect the compliment, though she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at his words.

Fred shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “Maybe, but you’re the one who makes it all work.”

The air between them shifted, the compliment lingering, heavier than usual. Fred’s grin softened into something more, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity that made Y/N’s heart race. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world fell away, leaving just the two of them in that small room. Y/N could feel the unspoken words hanging between them, the possibility that Fred might say something more, something deeper.

But before either of them could act on the moment, George snorted loudly from the bed, rolling over with a muttered, “You two are disgustingly sweet sometimes, you know that?”

Fred let out a bark of laughter, throwing a pillow at his brother with mock annoyance, breaking the tension as George dodged it with a lazy roll. Y/N laughed too, though the moment had passed, leaving behind a warmth in her chest that refused to fade. 

Even after the laughter died down and the easy banter resumed, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and Fred. The unspoken connection that had been building over the months wasn’t going away—it was growing, quietly but surely, and it was only a matter of time before they would have to face it.

But for now, Y/N let herself enjoy the warmth of Fred’s lingering gaze, the quiet moments they shared amid the chaos. Whatever it was between them, it didn’t need to be rushed. It was there, and that was enough.

---

Winter Holidays

Winter at Hogwarts brought with it an air of quiet enchantment. The snow-covered grounds glistened in the pale sunlight, and the Great Hall was festooned with festive decorations, making the castle feel warmer despite the cold winds that howled through the corridors. Most students had left for the holidays, but Y/N, as always, had stayed behind. She liked the stillness that came with winter at Hogwarts, when the castle was almost entirely hers. This year, though, she wasn’t alone—Fred and George had decided to stay as well, insisting they needed the time to “perfect some new ideas” for their joke shop.

It was during one of those quiet, hushed evenings, with the castle blanketed in silence, that Y/N and Fred found themselves alone together for the first time in what felt like forever. George had disappeared off to the kitchens on one of his snack raids, leaving Y/N and Fred alone in her room. The only sound was the faint crackling of the fire and the occasional creak of the castle’s ancient walls.

Fred was tinkering with one of their latest joke products, occasionally glancing up at Y/N. She sat on the floor, pretending to read one of her books, but her mind wasn’t on the words. It kept wandering back to Fred—the way he was sitting close enough that their knees brushed occasionally, the way his fingers fidgeted with the prototype, and most of all, the way his eyes kept flicking to her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

The tension that had been building between them for months seemed heavier in the stillness of the room, like something unspoken was hanging in the air, just waiting to be acknowledged. Y/N’s heart raced every time Fred moved just a little closer, and she found it increasingly hard to focus on anything other than the growing intensity between them.

Finally, Fred set his project aside with a sigh and turned to her, a soft, uncertain smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His voice was quieter than usual, hesitant in a way Y/N wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“Y/N,” he began, his eyes finding hers, “can I ask you something?”

Her heart skipped a beat, her fingers tightening around the book she hadn’t been reading. “Sure,” she said, though the word came out softer than she intended.

Fred hesitated for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure how to continue. He ran a hand through his hair, the playful, confident Fred replaced by someone more thoughtful, more vulnerable. “Do you ever think about... what it would be like if things were different? If we weren’t just—”

He stopped, his words hanging in the air, unfinished. Y/N’s breath hitched. This was it. The conversation they had been skirting around for months, the thing neither of them had dared to say out loud. Part of her didn’t know if she was ready for it, but the other part, the one that had been feeling this shift in their friendship for so long, knew it was time.

“I mean,” Fred continued, his voice a little more rushed now, as if afraid of losing his nerve, “I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. And I know we’ve been friends for a while, but... it feels like there’s more to it, doesn’t it?”

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, her stomach flipping in that familiar way it did whenever Fred’s hand brushed hers or his gaze lingered just a moment too long. Hearing him voice what she had been feeling made her heart race in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she met his gaze. “It does.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything, but the silence between them felt fuller, heavier with meaning. Fred’s eyes softened, his smile fading into something more serious, more sincere. Slowly, he leaned just a little closer, his hand inching toward hers on the floor. When his fingers brushed against hers, the quiet gesture felt like the beginning of something inevitable, something that had been building for longer than either of them had realized.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the room suddenly feeling smaller, as if it held only the two of them and the weight of the moment they were in. Fred’s eyes never left hers, his fingers grazing hers again, lingering this time.

But before the moment could deepen, the door burst open, and George barreled in, arms overflowing with snacks from the kitchen. “You two look entirely too serious for a holiday!” he announced cheerfully, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere he had just interrupted.

Fred groaned under his breath, glancing at Y/N with a look that was both amused and frustrated. She could see in his eyes that this conversation wasn’t over—not yet. But for now, the moment had passed.

Fred shook his head at his twin, trying to mask his disappointment with humor. “You’ve got impeccable timing, George. Really.”

George, still oblivious, grinned and tossed a bag of pastries onto the floor between them. “Always a pleasure to keep things from getting too boring. Now, who wants a pumpkin pasty?”

Y/N laughed, though the tension from the moment still lingered in her chest, making her heart feel light and heavy at the same time. As Fred reached for one of the pastries, his eyes flickered back to hers, and in that glance, Y/N knew. This wasn’t over. Whatever had started between them tonight would find its way back, and when it did, she knew they would be ready for it.

For now, though, they let the moment slip away, folding back into their usual banter with George. But the warmth of Fred’s hand brushing hers, the quiet promise in his gaze, stayed with her long after the laughter had filled the room.

---

Slowly Growing Closer

After the winter holidays, the connection between Y/N and Fred continued to evolve, growing deeper in a way that felt natural, like it had always been meant to unfold this way. It wasn’t rushed, nor did it come with any grand declarations or sudden changes. Instead, it was a steady deepening of their bond, woven into the fabric of their everyday lives. They still laughed together, still plotted pranks and caused mayhem with George, but there were more quiet moments when it was just the two of them—moments where Fred’s hand would brush hers and linger, or when their eyes would meet, and something unspoken would pass between them.

Fred’s protectiveness toward Y/N became more noticeable too, though it was subtle in its execution. He would walk her to her classes, finding excuses to be near her in the hallways. He made sure she was always included in the plans he and George concocted, and when they found themselves in groups, he always seemed to gravitate toward her, his presence grounding and reassuring. It was a quiet kind of care, one that made Y/N’s heart race with an excitement she hadn’t quite known before.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting day filled with OWL preparation and lessons that seemed to stretch on forever, Y/N and Fred found themselves alone once again in her room. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its gentle warmth casting a golden glow over the space. The two of them sat side by side on the floor, closer than they normally would, the room filled with a comfortable silence as they enjoyed a rare moment of peace.

Fred shifted slightly, his arm brushing against hers, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The tension between them had been building for weeks now, a quiet hum of energy that neither of them had addressed directly but both had felt. Slowly, almost as if testing the waters, Fred reached for her hand.

Y/N froze for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest as Fred’s fingers gently intertwined with hers. The simple gesture felt like the culmination of all the unspoken moments they had shared—the lingering looks, the accidental touches, the way they seemed to move in sync with each other without ever needing to speak.

Neither of them said a word. They didn’t need to. The warmth of Fred’s hand, the steady reassurance of his presence beside her, said more than words ever could. They sat there, side by side, their hands linked as the fire flickered and danced in front of them. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was full of meaning, a shared understanding that something had shifted between them. Something that couldn’t be ignored any longer.

Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the fire. For so long, she had felt like an outsider—the unsorted student who didn’t quite fit into the usual Hogwarts mold. She had wandered the castle’s halls alone, forging her own path in secret passageways and hidden rooms. But with Fred’s hand in hers, she no longer felt like she was on the outside looking in.

With him, she had found her place.

Fred didn’t say anything, but Y/N could feel the quiet affection in the way he held her hand, his thumb brushing softly against her skin. It was a small, simple gesture, but it meant everything. And as they sat there, side by side, watching the fire crackle and glow, Y/N realized that this—being with Fred, sharing these quiet, unspoken moments—was where she truly belonged.

In the silence of the room, with Fred beside her, Y/N felt like she had finally found her home.

And that home was with him.

Confessions

It was a quiet afternoon in early spring, the soft hum of Hogwarts life buzzing in the background as students moved through the castle, preparing for the last stretch of the school year. Fred and Y/N were sitting by the lake, away from the usual bustle of the courtyard. The gentle breeze stirred the leaves, and the warm sunlight reflected off the surface of the water, creating a tranquil atmosphere that wrapped around them like a cocoon.

They had been talking about nothing in particular—just catching up on the day, laughing about their latest prank on Filch. But Fred had been unusually quiet for the past few minutes, fidgeting with a small pebble in his hands, tossing it between his fingers in an absentminded rhythm. Y/N noticed his distraction but didn’t press him, sensing something was on his mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Fred took a deep breath and turned toward her, his usual playful grin replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, which were usually filled with mischief, now held a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice softer than usual, as though he was afraid of breaking the delicate balance between them. He cleared his throat, his hand brushing nervously through his hair. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say… for a while now.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his tone, the air between them suddenly charged with a different kind of energy. She turned to him, her full attention on him now, waiting for him to continue.

Fred looked down at the pebble in his hands, rolling it between his fingers before finally setting it aside. When he looked up, his gaze met hers, and the intensity of it made her breath catch in her throat.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Fred said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “About us. About you.”

He paused, his eyes searching hers for a moment before he spoke again. “You’ve been a part of my life for a while now, and… it’s hard to imagine what it would be like without you. You’re always there, Y/N—helping with our pranks, keeping us from getting caught, being part of everything we do. But it’s more than that. It’s not just about the pranks or the laughs.” He hesitated, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s about you.”

Y/N’s heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears as she listened, every word Fred said sinking into her chest.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say,” Fred admitted, his smile softening. “But the truth is, I really like you, Y/N. More than just as a friend. I don’t know when it happened—maybe it was the way you always seem to know what I’m thinking before I say it, or how you’ve just… become part of everything that matters to me.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, the weight of Fred’s confession hanging in the air between them. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way his usual carefree nature had given way to something deeper, something vulnerable. He wasn’t hiding behind jokes or laughter now—he was being completely honest, raw in a way she had never seen before.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Fred continued, his voice quieter now, as though he was afraid of what her response might be. “But I had to tell you. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I can’t keep pretending it’s just… nothing.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, her heart racing as she processed his words. She had felt it too, the growing connection between them, the way Fred had become more than just a friend to her. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing him confess that he felt the same, made it all the more real.

A soft smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she reached out, taking Fred’s hand in hers. The touch was simple, but it felt like an answer to the unspoken question that had been hanging between them for months.

“Fred,” she said quietly, her voice full of warmth, “I feel the same way. I’ve been thinking about you too. About us.”

Fred’s face lit up with relief, his grin returning as he squeezed her hand gently. “Yeah?”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “Yeah.”

For a moment, they just sat there, hands intertwined, the weight of Fred’s confession settling into something comfortable, something right.

Fred let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his grin softening into something more genuine, more sincere. “Blimey,” he said with a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve been worrying about saying that for weeks.”

Y/N laughed, the tension between them dissolving into something lighter, more playful. “You should have just told me sooner,” she teased, nudging him gently with her shoulder.

Fred’s grin widened, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes. “Well, better late than never, right?”

“Right,” Y/N agreed, her heart still racing, but now filled with a quiet joy that settled into her bones.

As they sat together by the lake, the sun beginning to set behind them, Fred squeezed her hand one more time, his thumb brushing gently against her skin.

And in that moment, Y/N knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.

Tagged: @buzzbuzzlilbee

[iamthecomet]

what if what if slice of life aether in the infirmary. what does he get up to all day? what are his little quirks? what does he do when there arent any sick siblings to help? does he have to shoo away (nicely) the ones that come in pretending to be sick just to spend time with him? does he actually like when they do that???

thoughts comet, pls give them ♡♡

Oh ABSOLUTELY I can share some thoughts! Not quite a ficlet, not quite headcanons, about Aether and his infirmary "job" under the cut.

Aether likes the infirmary best in the middle of the night. When he first got summoned he ended up on night shifts--better for training according to Omega. A good way to be eased in.

Aether knows it can get chaotic any time of day. And that he's lucky that this infirmary is relatively low key. They're not juggling trauma after trauma. Instead it's a lot of flu outbreaks and broken bones and stitches. The occasional childbirth. The rare devestating injury. But for the most part, it's quiet. Especially at night. Aether feels at ease on a night shift. Espeically now that so much of his pack is off on tour and he's back here--he doesn't have to think about his empty bed if he's here. The part of him that hasn't gotten used to it yet can just pretend everyone else is still here--asleep. It's sad he knows, but he's doing what he can. He makes his rounds. Smiling warmly at the siblings who also work nights. He's the only quint ghoul on duty. It makes the infirmary feel like his. It's not something he ever though he'd want--but now...now it's good. Feels right. He goes from room to room, peeking his head in. Checking vitals of sleeping patients, smiling easily at the ones who are still awake. Slipping into their rooms and talking to them. Doctor questions and regular questions. Where they grew up. What brought them to the Abbey. What they do and who they are, all while he digs into himself to lessen their pain, or their fear, or their insomnia. Allowing them sleep. When everything is quiet, and there is no drama, no chaos, no blood. Aether sits at the nurses station and reads a book. Scrolls on his phone. Texts his packmates. Shooting Dew and Mountain messages asking about their show tonight, what the crowd was like, where they went to eat after. Are they sleeping on the bus? In an hotel? Mountain responds with words, answers to his questions. Dew just sends him pictures. One of the crowd just before he walked on stage. Another of his burger and beer after the show. And then him in his bunk, dimly lit, sticking his tongue out at Aether from hundreds of miles away. The time differences make it easier, the further they get from him the more he talks. Aurora sends him pictures of every strange attraction she begs to stop and see. Swiss complains about Dew. Rain complains about Swiss. Dew complains about Aeon. Cirrus swears she's going to strangle Mountain. It makes him feel like he's with them. It makes him miss them less. Sometimes Sunshine comes and sits with him. Either at the beginning of his shift--or the end. Sitting down in the chair next to him and resting her head on his shoulder and taking in the quiet sounds of the infirmary. Machines whiring. Soft snores and sleepy breathing. A muted cry of a very new baby from down the hall. Aether is grateful for her. For the company, and because without fail, whenever Sunny shows up, so does someone else.

A bleeding sibling. A sick cardinal. Sister Imperator herself with a headache so bad it could wake lucifer himself. And sometimes, a sibling who just wants to sit with Aether. To know him. Who claims a belly ache, or a sore throat, just to feel the touch of his quintessence. He's not sure why. Doesn't think his magic does anything special to humans, but Aether isn't stupid. He knows a fake illness when he sees one. And if he was Dew he'd tell them to shove off. He'd scold them. But he isn't Dew and he doesn't. Aether likes people--humanity especially. So even though he can smell the lie on them, he helps. Always.

[posebean]

fantasys your crazy:B‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ 

fantasy AU stuff... alkaloid later...world building + details stuff under read more maybe dont look if u dont wanna be spoiled for the 2 fics that i already wrote for this au

in general magic is kind of weird there’s multiple methods to cast the same spell those being spell components, incantations, somatic (gestures). each has their merits and flaws/ u can choose to use only one/ any most people stick with 1-2

there’s all kinds of spells and people are either born with an innate specialty in it or grow up developing it; power is how strong their magic can be, control is how much of a grasp they have on their magic, the lower control is compared to power the more easy it is for someone’s magic to go out of control (aira in this AU but i’ll talk about that when i have the alkaloid one made). if someone has more control than power they’re able to do very precise things with their magic with no focus at all while others would need some focus; general populace has both equal, usually people that dont hone their skills (common villagers) stay at 1 star for both

niki’s outfit is very simple and inspired by his fs2, very versatile and such because he’s always out and about chasing after exotic creatures to add to his checklist cloak HGFSDH he learned to sew from Aira’s mom when he was little and made most of his clothes himself, his satchels, and even helps the others when they need his skills whenever hes in town. even though he clearly puts spices etc. on one side compared to his components on the other, he still mixes them up because he is silly Aka is very fluffy and has kind of wild hair like. someone we know. i wonder who bright blue eyes (also like someone we know. ) but foxes are funner to draw with just closed eyes

RInne just has his normal village clothes with like longer and some changes to make it more. fantastical???? idk im soooo bad at designing clothes lmfao but before the “fox” is out of the bag he doesn’t really shift back much except to stretch and mess around with meru so he doesnt really. get different clothes. def after the reveal he stays in that form more around niki and they do get him different clothes. idk what they would be maybe niki would make them because he gets sick of seeing both hiiro and rinne in his house wearing the same things all the time. oh yeah i havent gone over this yet but yeah hiiro does refuse to leave because rinne refuses to leave so he just. lives with them on niki’s couch LMAO. who knows. maybe he becomes a denizen of the beehive rinne also still shifts because he finds moving around as a little guy more convenient and also niki still finds that form cute and cant say no if he does the puppy eyes so it usually goes like niki: rinne-kun, no rinne: boo-hooo.. niki~kyun.... (swishes his finger and ina  poof hes aka again with round blue eyes) niki: niki: i know what you’re doing, its not going to work this time aka (rinne): whimpers niki: niki: (throws his hands in the air) oh my god fine rinne: (quickly changes back and grabs niki and cheers)

i havent gotten to kohaku’s fic yet but he’s good at stealth magic. like really good. he can make himself vanish and no one will be able to find him when he’s right next to them. think about that as you will. when aira brought him to the beehive he only had a yukata and worn down sandals and since he and aira had similar builds he just ended up getting clothes from aira for most of the time; he does have shirts that are specifically his because they all have little pockets sewn on (by niki!) for rabu-han junior but with coats pants and outerwear he and aira just share except kohaku stays away from some of aira’s more. fancy clothes ?? lmao not to his taste rabu-han junior is a little hamster familiar that he met one day and made a familiar pact agreement with. rabu-han junior usually sits in his pocket, but if need be rabu-han junior can grow MASSIVE from 3 inches to 6 feet. Big mode. in big mode he can easily carry. 4 people. lmfao. rabu-han junior also shares magic with kohaku and technically is as strong as him and from that logic. rabu-han junior is better at magic than poor rabu-han (original)

merumeru’s clothes are all from kaname except the coat the coat is tatsumi’s. no idea why himeru hasn’t thrown it away though. maybe somewhere deep in his heart he does care for tatsunn his main reason for leaving was he didnt want tatsumi to always be in pain from seeing him, the very spitting image of kaname

all of him is just like kaname except: slightly older, longer hair, hair dark grayish at the ends and its not visible much and he does do illusion magic to change it but he has cat eyes pupils kittymeru is mainly dark gray (the same color as his human hair ends) with kaname-blue highlights and the long strand, the proof that kaname was the one that conjured him and essentially put part of himself in meru

[backtothefanfiction]

tasm!Peter x Nurse Reader

You cannot tell me post everything with Gwen when he felt able to date again (when May talks him into it), that Peter Parker wouldn’t end up with a nurse. Someone who knows the pressures of saving lives. Able to patch him up when his wounds are a little too deep and gonna take longer to heal. Someone who also works late nights so wouldn’t be bothered if he was out late on patrol…

Imagine this…

It’s Christmas a couple years after the incident. After completing her training Aunt May now puts in shifts at the hospital. She’s gone out with a few other Nurses for Christmas drinks. Peter comes to collect her as it’s late. That is when he gets introduced to you.

You are politely waiting with May until her Nephew turns up so you have your own peace of mind she will get home safe. From the way she talks about him when you work the ward together, you are expecting some nerdy guy who couldn’t get out of his parents basement, not… well, Peter.

You make polite introductions, May introducing you to each other. “Y/N this is my nephew Peter, Peter this is Y/N they work on the ward with me.”

Peter is enamoured by you immediately. Not only does he find you attractive but you also care for his Aunt and he assumes you provide the same care for your patients.

You part ways, but that won’t be the last time you see each other.

Peter keeps an eye out for you now, whenever he goes to meet May from work. You exchange small talk. He realises you work the late shift often, meaning you’re only just starting as his Aunt is finishing.

He starts spending his nights thinking of you working at the same time he is. Wonders if you’ve ever had to patch up any of the guys he’s ended up sending to the hospital over the years.

It doesn’t take May long to recognise that Peter likes you. “Ask her out already?” “What no?”

He ends up running back inside the hospital to ask you out.

You end up having a coffee date and a walk around Central Park. Conversation is easy and Peter is starting to think Gwen may have sent you to him from the great beyond because all of this felt so easy, it had to be fate.

You’ve been dating a couple months when he shows up on your doorstep with a massive gash in the side of his arm. He’d managed to get caught around a metal cable and the wound was too deep for him to heal without a little help but he knew he couldn’t just walk into the nearest hospital.

You patched him up, minimal questions asked, until you woke up next to him the following morning and his arm was almost healed. He had to come clean.

You were accepting at first. You had always admired Spider-Man and how he helped the people of the city. Protected them from the big bads and the little ones. But when Peter starts getting too comfortable around you and showing up with one too many careless injuries you start to become more and more guarded.

You find yourself checking the news app on your phone way too often. You walk into patients rooms when the news is on to watch and make sure he’s being safe.

When he comes home with 3 bullet wounds for you to patch up, one of the bullets still in his body, you realise enough is enough. “I can’t do this any more Peter.” It’s the hardest things you’ve had to do. You promise to keep his secret but dating him is too hard and for your own sanity you need to go your separate ways.

Peter reluctantly agrees to your wishes but it kills him inside. He realises he got to comfortable. Too attached to this idea you were his angel sent by Gwen that you’d put up with anything and always be there. When you’re not, Peter struggles.

He goes out looking for more fights to punish himself. Looking for bigger bads to battle hoping the victories and admiration from the crowds will fill the void inside him.

That is until he comes up against the biggest bad and his most challenging fight yet. And somehow there you are. As if by magic. As if you really are sent by Gwen, placed in the right place at the right time.

He’s so broken, on the verge of death. The bad guy got away while he lay broken in the street. Crowds gather around him. Their beloved Spider-Man is bleeding out and practically dying on the street in front of them and they have no idea what to do.

You had seen everything. It was awful. All you could do was watch on helplessly as if Peter was a dogs play thing. The man, or was it a creature, picked him up like he weighed nothing and threw his body down the street. The roof of a car caved in with the force of it as he landed on top of it, the windows crushed with the force.

Peter had managed to roll himself off the car but he staggered and stumbled, his arm wrapped protectively around his side as he stumbled down a side street. You saw the crowd begin to gather around him as you raced down the street to get to him.

You pushed your way through bodies to get to his unconscious body. You give him a quick check over as you fall to your knees. “Give them some space” you hear someone call out, ushering the crowd back a bit as you realise you’re gonna need to do CPR. You begin doing chest compressions, your hands folding over the spider emblem now torn across his chest. “Come on Pete.” You mumble as you push down, your head counting out the beats on autopilot as your training took over. You lift his mask just enough to reveal his mouth and nose as you begin to give him mouth to mouth. You don’t even know how long you keep doing that, back and forth between the two when he suddenly takes a deep breath in.

The crowd cheers around you but you are only focused on one another. And just like that it’s like the last few weeks of your break up never happened.

After resting in your bed a couple days, Peter is better equipped and healed enough to finish what he started. After that he promises to stick solely to friendly neighbourhood stuff as much as possible. And he’s good to his word for the most part.

You fall into a good routine together. When you work nights, he goes on patrol. On your nights off, you both stay in watching movies in your small apartment whilst eating ice cream and pizza.

A year later Peter is asking for Aunt May’s ring to ask you to marry him. It’s a simple engagement story. He swung you both up to the top of the Empire State Building and did the Spider-Man equivalent of getting down on one knee. He slowly lowered himself down upside down with the ring in hand before you. He’d barely gotten the words out before you were crying and shouting “Yes, Yes, YES!”

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

I’m watching one piece, and now I’m wondering do you have any hcs on the world building in the fairy tail universe ? Do you think theirs some crazy kingdom’s , advanced technology in some lands ? Love to hear your thoughts 💗

hmmmmmmmmmmm kinda a bit of a deep question tbh.

Structurally FT has good bones for its world. And that's kinda it lol

There's a fleshed out map of all the countries within the continent that fiore is found on (Ishgar, which has 16 named countries apart from fiore itself) and expanding wider than that we know that there are about 3 named continents (Ishgar to the east being a peninsula connected to the mainland that we know nothing of, Alakitasia to the west where Alavarez is and Guiltina to the north) and a fourth unnamed continent further east that exists within earthland.

But while we have all this info, nothing in particular comes into play as the series had progressed, the majority of the series' arcs all more or less take place within the same country, which for a series that has it's characters constantly travelling for missions looks particularly bad, especially when even the known locations all visually seem indistinct from each other in terms of stuff like architecture. It's a reason why I appreciate edolas in particular because it at least offered something that visually stood out and an insight into how that culture functioned. (and in Phoenix Priestess for the small montage the squad in the city of Rose Garden and showing a bit of the country Veronica)

Like it is frustrating to me whenever I think on it because the solution would be just to change the locations of where they travel to just to expand the background of the places travelled, wouldn't even have to change arc structures or anything to give some life to the named countries like:

Joya despite its small size as a country is the main manufacturers of trains and exports the majority of the transportation other countries use as well as weapons. Wizards are less found here, with treasure hunting being a more popular job choice.

Sin, despite the ironic name, is a deeply religious and faith driven country. Magics that have connection to nature and celestial bodies are particularly revered here.

Desierto mostly deals with trade, having constantly active shipping ports. Enchanted items such as brooms and carpets are popular and easy transport choices within cities and are more widely used than vehicles.

Iceberg's largely uninhabited due to the weather with most of the population sticking closer to the country's borders.

Like this is all just purely flavour text examples to just try and bring some life to these otherwise lifeless locations but you get the general gist of it.

There was clearly this effort to establish these locations by giving then names (and drawing a full on map) so it always boggled me that they were never properly used as a backdrop for the arcs within the story. (Tower of Heaven? Move that arc to Sin, Lucy's arc with Loke? Takes place in Stella, That arc with the giant village? Put it in Minstrel).

Like shifting around major arc locations would easily open up avenues to naturally expand the world as the story moves. And not even just big arcs, but smaller less grand filler arcs (which jesus christ did ft rlly need because it defs need breathing room between all the big events. It's why the story moves at such a breakneck speed without things really feeling as though they've changed in any meaningful ways) would do wonders to make earthland feel like a genuine lived in world (like how it is within the world of one piece that you cited as an inspo for this ask.)

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Top of the List [Part One]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Jessie Goodwin, Lisa Marie Presley, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Colonel Parker [Mentioned], Joe Goodwin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2197 of 9639

Summary: When you’re a kid writing a Christmas list is simple; toys and lots of them. As you get older however the wishes start to change and with a life as complicated as the Goodwin-Presleys those wants aren’t always easy to come by. For Addison it’s a family. For Jess answers. And for Elvis, well, as long as he’s got his girls he doesn’t have to wish for a damn thing.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Sex, Penatrative Sex, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Handjobs, Morning Sex, Mentions of Death, Grief, Grieving, Absent Father, Single Parent, Working Parent, Christmas Day, Secrets, Festive Period, Teen Angst, Moods, Fingering, Christmas Morning, Kids on Christmas, Magic of Christmas

Notes: Okay so I’d been planning these as two separate fics but I decided to put them together because they parallel each other so well. All of them wanting something etc etc

I did want to make it sorta ghosts of Christmas past, present and future but working out the timelines of how to establish everything was too hard.

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

ELVIS & ADDISON MASTERPOST  //  TAG LIST

Addison could hear it, the snow outside flurrying past the windows as it made its way to the ground destined to leave the entire lawn blanketed in white. She couldn’t see it of course, her boyfriend’s need for perpetual darkness whenever he slept meant that the room was so dimly lit she could barely see her hand in front of her face, but she didn’t need to see it to know it was there. And just thinking of it made her feel cold. Even now, protected from Elvis’ Baltic bedroom conditions by the thick comforter and the furnace of the man himself beside her, she felt a tiny shiver run down her spine though she didn’t know why.

It wasn’t like last Christmas, when she had been cocooning herself in her blanket in order to keep in some kind of warmth as the wind whistled through the poorly insulated windows. She wasn’t listening to her father’s hacking coughs as he tried desperately to sleep off the chest infection that had been knocking him for six while he’d tried to keep working as long as he could so that she wouldn’t have to pick up more shifts at the movie theatre just to buy some food for Christmas dinner. When she went downstairs later, she’d no doubt be greeted by a wealth of presents underneath the tree instead of the one gift she had limited her father to buying her last year, knowing they could barely afford that.

Though as she lay there thinking about it, thinking of how far she had come from then to now, she realised why she could still feel that cold seeping into her bones despite everything she had done to stop it. It was because even now, laying in a bed in a literal mansion with Elvis next to her, pinning her to him as he snored lightly in her ear, she still felt as alone as she had in that bed last Christmas. She still felt hopeless, as though she were back in the same position because, like she had with her father, she knew something was coming — something bad.

She'd started to feel that around Christmas too, when his trips to the doctor had gotten more frequent but he hadn’t gotten any better. He’d kept her placated, telling her they’d gotten a new treatment, a costly one from what she’d seen on his medical bills, but a good one that was sure to work.

Elvis had done the same. Since Russwood Park he’d told her everything was okay, but there was something in the way he breezed around the details that told her it wasn’t. As her father’s conversations with nurses and doctors had ended abruptly whenever she came into a room, Elvis’ did too, the topic shifting to something trivial as he pulled her into him, holding her in ways she was sure were designed to make sure she couldn’t see his face. The way she had fussed over her father, watching everything he did in case he might need her, was the way Gladys now watched her son, who pretended not to notice her increased attention. And then there were his eyes. His eyes, that despite the smile on his face never seemed to light up the way they used to. Eyes that lost their sparkle every time he looked at her, guilt replacing that twinkle she loved so much.

That was why she was glad he was sleeping. That the weight on his shoulders was removed for now as he lay there oblivious, unlike her. It was dark, but she could just make out the contours of his face. The sharpness of his nose, followed by the plumpness of his lips that descended into the soft roundness of his jaw, down to his bobbing Adam’s apple. As she marvelled at each bit of him she found her finger following the path her eyes had travelled, and though she hadn’t meant to disturb him, she must’ve gone too far as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open blearily as he came to with a yawn, smiling at her sleepily as he got his bearings.

‘Good morning,’ she said, pulling her hand away quickly and placing it on his chest, hoping he wouldn’t think she’d been laying there watching him sleep. Luckily he didn’t seem to be bothered by the intrusion, instead preferring to reach for the lamp beside them so that he could see her face and marvel at her in the way she had him, only not in secrecy.

‘Mornin’ baby,’ he said, as his other hand moved up around her to her shoulder, pushing under the material of her night gown until he was touching her bare skin, warming her from the outside in.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said with a weak smile. He faltered for a minute, as if the whole thing had snuck up on him, before he wiped his eyes wearily and said, ‘shit yeah. I forgot there for a minute.’

‘Merry Chrissmus baby,’ he said, offering her the most genuine smile she’d see in days, though it was immediately torn away as she watched whatever thought he’d have come and go, taking whatever easy-natured conversation they’d been having with them. She could feel him tense, pulling away from her as he said, ‘We, uh, we should head downstairs.’

‘It’s still early,’ Addison said, as he shifted away, pulling his touch away from her, leaving her colder than she had been before thinking about the snow.

‘I know,’ he said, as he threw back the covers, keeping his gaze away from her as he thought of an excuse to extract himself, ‘but everyone will be up soon.’

‘And they’ll wait for you,’ Addison countered, pushing herself up and pulling the covers back over him, her hand on his chest to keep him in place.

‘Still, can’t waste the day, right? Not on Christmas,’ he said jovially, glancing at her entrapment before he continued, ‘aren’t you wondering what Santa brought ya?’

‘I only asked for one thing,’ she said earnestly.

‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’ he asked, genuine intrigue plaguing his handsome face. She debated it for a moment, telling him that all she wanted was for him to tell her what was going on so that she could start getting over whatever devastation lay ahead, but as she watched him, his blue eyes holding the only genuine sparkle she’d seen since his last concert she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t bring herself to ruin a moment, not when she had just been struck by the realisation that had been what he had been doing all along. He was trying to protect her the way her father had, and though she knew it would happen eventually, she decided to let him. To push the inevitable away for just today.

‘You,’ she said, moving until she was draped across him, their breath intermingling as their noses touched.

‘Ads,’ he whispered, but she didn’t listen, and instead she leant in, their lips touching gently as she kissed him, hoping he’d take the bait. He was tense as she kissed him deeper, shifting until she was sitting atop of him, but as her fingers trailed down his torso, working his pyjama shirt open as they continued the route they’d been headed before he’d awoken, she felt him respond, his dick twitching against her leg without his permission. He wanted to stop her, well, not entirely, but as she pulled back a smile on her pretty face, he knew he probably should. It was what he’d been doing the past few days since every touch and every kiss now filled him with guilt, given that she didn’t know that they were soon to be rationed. Every minute of every day since he’d found out about the draft he’d wanted to spend holed away in this room doing exactly what she was now, and yet he hadn’t. In fact, he’d pushed her away more than he’d intended to. Which was why her touch felt so good now and why his toes curled as she pulled him out of his shorts, her hand gliding effortlessly up and down his length, causing his breath to get heavier and her smirk to grow.

‘You like that?’ she asked with a giggle as her thumb ran over a sensitive spot, causing Elvis’ hips to jolt without warning.

‘You know I do,’ Elvis said, pushing himself up until he was sitting, his arms wrapping around her as their foreheads pressed together. It was enough to stall her movements, his cock nestling between the warmth of his own belly and the heaps of chiffon from the night dress he still hadn’t managed to get off of her yet. It was also nearly enough to make her come clean, to have the words on the tip of her tongue, but she found the only thing she could say was, ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘M’right here,’ he said, though he knew what she meant.

‘Promise?’ she asked. He didn’t say anything; she just watched as that familiar guilt swirled in his eyes before he moved in and kissed her. After that it wasn’t certain who needed the other more. Who needed distraction, warmth, love. She let him lead though, his hand guiding the tip of his cock through her slickened folds before he inched inside her, holding her firm in his lap for a moment as they became one. Even when they could hear sounds of the house coming to life and people waking ready for Christmas, neither of them rushed. Instead, he laid her down on his bed, moving his hips at an agonisingly slow pace, just watching her as she took him.

He was going to miss this. When he ripped the band aid off and changed their lives forever, it would be this he missed the most. Because after today they’d never be like this again. Sure, they could do this a thousand times over, yet it wouldn’t be the same. When her hand ghosted his cheek it wouldn’t be just a loving gesture; it’d be trying to commit the feel of it to memory. When he buried his face in her neck next time, he’d be trying to remember to make a note of the perfume she wore so that he could buy a spare bottle to take with him, just to have some reminder of her in those lonely barrack bunks. In fact, he doubted he’d ever get her like this again, breathlessly calling his name as she clenched like a vice around him, her chest heaving as he spilled into her, unable to hold back. No, he’d never get her like this again because when they did this again she’d be looking at him with the same look she had now, as their heads pressed together, that knowing look of sadness. Every minute from now would be chalked with worry. He knew her well enough to realise that once he told her the truth, she’d pull away, and that was worse than the idea of going away at all.

‘I love you,’ she murmured as he lay against her, his body entirely too big for her to hold properly though she didn’t care. Having him close was enough.

‘Love you too, baby,’ he whispered, not looking up from where his head rested on her chest, her fingers weaving through his hair. She watched him, wondering whether to ask him what was going on or not, but as she lay there, her head clouded with love and lust, she still couldn’t bring herself to. She could see that guilt over coming to him once more, beckoning him to pull away from her, and that she couldn’t bear. So even though she knew something was coming—something bad—she decided to let him play it his way. If he wanted to keep her in the dark for now, he could. If he wanted to give her a Christmas, she’d let him.

‘We should get up,’ she said thickly, trying to force the tears in her voice away before he looked up at her, his head snapping up as she spoke, watching her with those guilt-ridden blue eyes. ‘Your mama will have our heads if we don’t.’

‘You’re right,’ he said with a weak smile, ‘I’m gon’ hope in the shower.’

‘Okay,’ she said as he pulled himself away, allowing her to push herself up until she was sitting, wrapping the comforter around her in the hopes it would mirror the warmth he provided. He jumped out of bed, shivering in the crispness of the air but he didn’t run away. Instead he lingered by the edge of the bed, looking down on her for a moment. Whatever he was going to say gone as he made the executive decision to lean down and kiss her.

‘You’re what I wanted for Christmas too,’ he said, offering her a cheeky smile which she returned before heading towards the bathroom. Though as the door closed behind him, she sighed. It was coming soon; she knew that, but she could give him the day. They could have Christmas.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121

[local-crying-boy]

Carlisle Cullen X Magic!Reader

——————————————————————————————————

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x GenderNeutral!Reader

Genre: One-Shot, fluff

Warnings: not my best work, just something to write to get me out of writers block

Summary: Even in his long undead life, Carlisle Cullen has only seen a magic user once. That was only when they’d moved into Forks shortly after him and his family had. Only, this magic user had bad blood with vampires.

Word Count: 590

——————————————————————————————————

——————————————————————————————————

Vampires were blood-thirsty, irritating and extremely beautiful. Though, not like you fell in love with the looks of those monsters. Okay, well, they aren’t all monsters, but you’ve encountered far too many murderous vampires to trust a new one quickly. Which is why when you realised the Cullens were in Forks, you were constantly on guard and definitely avoiding them.

Most vampires can’t control their thirst, or desire for human blood. The Cullens obviously can with their ‘vegetarian’ diet. However, even vampires with extreme self-control have difficulty simply being around witches because of their rare blood. That was why whenever you were near Dr. Cullen, you tried to go the complete other way, sometimes not to subtly.

Seeing as yours and Dr. Cullen’s careers often had close contact with each other, the whole avoiding thing was stressful to do sometimes. When you couldn’t get away, or if you stood too close, you could see how his demeanour shift. Others didn’t notice, but being raised around supernatural beings and being a therapist, you noticed those types if things.

You had been on your way to Dr. Cullen’s office, much to your dismay and many, many excuses. You had been fiddling with the files that you had to bring to him, you’d been dreading being in a room alone with him - specifically with a vampire.

Taking a breath, you knocked on his door one, two, three times and waited for him to let you in. When you hear the somewhat faint ‘come in’, you nodded slightly to yourself and opened the door.

You cleared your throat before you talked, causing him to look up at you, ah there’s that change in demeanour, “Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Cullen.”

He shook his head slightly and gave a soft smile, “Don’t worry about that, do you need something?”

You nodded your head, silently praying to anything that this extremely beautiful man wouldn’t go for your throat, “Yes, I’ve got a file here. A patient of yours that was given to me, but it isn’t psychology, it’s medical.”

He opened his mouth and made a small ‘Ah’ sound, “My mistake, I should have seen that.”

You shook you’re head, “No, no, it’s fine I would have made the same mistake too.”

This should have been the time where you took your leave and returned to scheduling appointments and taking phone calls. However you stayed put.

Confusion clouded Dr. Cullen’s face, “Is there anything else?”

You took a moment to think, looked behind you and closed the office door, turned back and then nodded, “I’m sorry I’ve been close to you. I know how it is difficult for vampires to be around Witches.”

For a moment, there was complete silence, then he chuckled. Chuckled. This man laughed at you.

“You’ve caused me no discomfort, Y/n.” Dr. Cullen simply said, “I always thought that I should have been the one to avoid you, given our kind’s… History with one another.”

“Oh.” Was all you could manage out, “Then why do you shift every time I walk into a room?”

“Why do you?” He asked.

You let out a soft, quick laugh, “Well, seems like our whole relationship is built on misunderstandings.”

He nodded, a smile plastered on his lips, “It seems it is.”

You shook your head, mostly at your own idiocy, and laughed once more before looking up at up Dr. Cullen, “Well, then, I suppose I don’t have to pretend to walk on eggshells when I’m around you.”

He shook his head too, “I suppose I do not have to do the same either.”

Masterlist

[lemmetreatya]

HELLO if you are free at the time can you write and eren x reader insta post prt 2? With both of his moms again that was really good if that isn’t to much may I ask if it’s like him spending money on her too ? LOVE YOURE WORKS BTW

Eren’s Insta Spam (Pt.3)

eren x black!fem reader

part 1

part 2

AHH! Yes thank you so much for the request! A part 3 was definitely overdue so thank you for reminding me lool! Hope you enjoy beloved 🫶🏾 Also: BIG UP! TUN UP! to @erenxh for helping me out with a few of the translations for Carla,, you truly an OG 🫰🏾💙 + @quiveringdeer as the honorary tag for these aus

Okay so as we know, Eren has a lot of ‘fans’ who are genuinely really nice to him — but only him — and so whenever he takes you out, he tries to be low-key.

Buuuut it doesn’t mean YOU have to be lowkey and so whenever youre out and about you take pics of him and he occasionally posts these

Liked by ynprivnotpriv, mikamimamii and 74 others

ej__jaeger dump! taken by the one who captures me thru the lens of love xx @ynprivnotpriv

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ynprivnotpriv the caption??? you’re so cheessyyyy 😭😭 luv you thoo 💖💖

grishaj__ 👍🫰

ej__jaeger @ynprivnotpriv only this cheesy for you my love

ej__jaeger @grishaj ❤️❤️

But besides that, Eren loves to take you out and spoil you with stuff. It’s kinda controversial though because look okay, Eren’s not a bum per se, but he also HATES working or doing anything labour wise so it’s really Grisha’s money he’s spending on you 😭😭😭 Like he gets a lil money from sponsors and that but its barely liveable earnings

And although you don’t mind, at times it’s like “Okay, Eren. We need to get you a job.” Because he’s at the checkout but on a phone call with his Dad talking bout “Just send it to me now, I’ll explain when I get home.” And you really dont wanna be spending Mr. Jaeger Sr.’s hard earned surgery money like that shdjdjd but Eren wouldn’t take the initiative to do any of that shit himself so you get Carla and Dina involved

“What about a Barista? You’ve got that cute hipster look to you, they’ll love you there.” You said.

All four of you sat in the living room around your laptop, scrolling on various job searching sites to find Eren an occupation. He however seemed to be the least enthusiastic.

“Noooo. Too many of my fan— People, I know go there. It’ll be too bait.”

“That’s okay!” Carla exclaims. “It means you can give them discounts and talk to your friends while you’re on your shift.”

You stifled a giggle, knowing those weren’t the type of people Eren was talking about but alas, we move.

Annoyingly bouncing a tennis ball onto the ceiling and then catching it, Eren sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and paced around the room.

“Man, I need something that pays good money but small hours and allows me all the flexi shifts I want.”

“öyle iş istiyorsan git de sihirli fasulye ye!” Carla tuts.

The brunette whizzed round in shock.

“You urging me to become a drug dealer?!”

“What?!” You look towards Carla with a gasp.

Shaking her head and hands, the woman tried to clear the allegations her son stuck on her.

“No! I told him to go eat magic beans if he wants a job so easy!” Carla explained but then followed up her words with a taunt in Eren’s direction — a warning not to make her look bad.

“Well, what about Zeke’s place? I’m pretty sure he could get you a nice position over there.”

All of you looked towards Dina who had a rather elated expression on her face. This also seemed to pique Eren’s interest seeing as he stopped pacing and gave Dina an intrigued look.

“Wouldn’t that make me a Nepo baby?” He asked.

With a straight face you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend.

“Boy, that’s really your concern?” You deadpanned. This seriously couldn’t be the most testing factor of working with Zeke of all people but apparently Dina and Eren were on the same page.

“I don’t think it will.” Dina made a thinking face before bringing up her phone to do a quick search. “I only think it affects you if it’s passed down from a parent and not across from a sibling.”

With a groan, Carla threw her head onto your shoulders, feigning fatigue.

“Oh my goodness, my annecim only wants to be rich. Not a hard working bone in his body — Oh! I’ve failed.”

With a soft laugh, you patted the woman’s head.

“Sorry, Carla. I know you tried your best.”

At the end of the day though, Eren makes sure he always spoils you with nice things and doesnt mind spending maintenance money on you! He’ll always have coin for you regardless and loves when he sees you all dolled up under his appendage

he’s THAT Guy: he’ll wait for you when you get your manicures done and talks smooth with all the workers so he can get discounts and shii dhjddk 😭😭

“Girl, can I just say, your boyfriend is such goals? Like how he so smood with it?”

The nail technician briefly removed her face mask to whisper that to you, eyeing the way he was making easy conversation with the other woman.

With a small laugh, you tapped on side of your Airpod to pause your music so that you could also turn round to observe his antics.

“Yeah, no he treat me real well.”

Turning round back to her, you gave her a knowing look.

“You want me to hook you up with one of his friends?”

“What, they just as good as him?!” She whispered.

“Oh, nobody as good as him but they good.” Giving her a knowing look, you pursed your lips over at the woman.

With a nod and an impressed look back, the techniciane moved back to continue her work on your nails, her mood more excited.

“Okay, okay. I’ll see what you got to offer.”

Liked by dinafritz_off_fitfh, jeankir_jr and 29 others

ej__jaeger she keeps saying her feet are cold but she never wants to wear socks 🤨⁉️ LIKE??? if your lil white manny toes are cold, SOCK EM! 🗣🗣

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sashabear7891 FOR FREE EREN???? FOR FREE???! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

uchihabapegod put dem dawgs away son 🌭

ej__jaeger @sashabear7891 you always know where to get the prem shit thoooo

ej__jaeger @uchihabapegod okay zeke so now that youve said that explain to me why exactly youre perceiving my girls toes??? 🤨📸

ej__jaeger @jeankirjr_ I am giving you three working minutes to unlike this post.

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ej__jaeger ROD 🚀

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mikamikamii THATS A BIG ROCK??

uchihabapegod Marriage?? In this economy???

carlaakarjaeg_34 Eren Text Me Right Now. Please Eren

yummir @ynprivnotpriv lmaooooooo i know you aint sleeping rn bitch come explaaiinn???

conniethe_conman only reason i know you lot are playing us is bc i know eren DOES NAWT have the funds for that and because y/n wouldn’t say yes to an unemployed MAN 😆😆

ej__jaeger @conniethe_conman the way you’re the only one to not fall for it but DAMN???

[wellpresseddaisy]

And Wishing I Was Gone, Going Home

Rather belated, but for the 4th prompt, Home.

His mother never told him magic had a smell.

She’d taught him so many things in their shabby kitchen in Cokeworth, but not that. He’d thought it her perfume, the subtle scent of petrichor and stormy seas that hovered about her, even on days it didn’t rain.

And girls like Lily, well they just smelled nice, didn’t they? She made him think of the first warmer days in spring and those little violets that sweetened the breezes.

He never noticed it on the train, too excited and then too annoyed to smell anything. It wasn’t until much, much later that he realized his housemates each had their own distinctive scent that grew stronger when they cast. Most of them he didn’t have names for until he’d had more experience in the world.

Some of them made him sneeze terribly, like Gareth Abernathy. Looking back, he felt a bit bad that Gareth had to be moved to a different dormitory, but it was either that or Severus moving. Lucius and the other prefects came out of that dorm grim-faced. They never told him what the boys said they’d do if Severus was the one moved.

Even Lucius didn’t know about his…talent. Something told him to keep it to himself. It gave him an edge, once he learned to navigate all the scents coming at him in a day. He nearly always smelled James Potter (grassy, overlaid with something too, too sweet) before he saw him.

He should have known the first time he met the Dark Lord that he couldn’t be trusted. His magic smelled of decay and dust, like the inside of a tomb. It crawled into Severus’ sinuses and stayed there, a constant reminder. Why had he pledged himself to that? He smelled like the darkest of the dark books in the Malfoy library, the ones Lucius pulled him away from with a sharp,

“I catch you near those again, my lad, and I’ll wallop you myself.”

His mark smelled the same way, blooming horribly every time Voldemort found something pleasing. He found it a small mercy that he carried the mark only a year or so before…before soft spring and tiny violets were ripped forever from the world.

The decay kept returning, though. Faintly, faintly he’d smell it through the next decade. He hoped, but he knew one day it would return as strong as ever.

He knew the Potter child would play a part in whatever came the first day of class. To see him snickering with the latest Weasley after Draco’s hours-long diatribe on Potter refusing his hand…he wasn’t sure if the headache or the mere existence of another Potter set his teeth on edge more.

Potter…Potter’s magic smelled of the green new growth in a forest. The underlay of it, though, stopped Severus in his tracks. Frankincense and myrhh, the scent of one laid to rest. He knew. In that moment he knew it would be Potter to end the Dark Lord’s reign, whenever it came.

He never knew how he made it through the years of waiting, always on guard, decay floating at the very edge of his senses. The return…that was almost a relief.

Something tickled his nose. Sandalwood and leather and warm feathers. He shifted and…bedlinen? Would his earthly torment never end?

That last night in the Shack…he’d known. Known it would come one day. Some part of the universe must have cared, because he closed his eyes the last time smelling not decay but the clean, astringent wash of frankincense and myrhh.

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

He breathed in, his chest caught on searing pain.

“Lie still, you ridiculous brat. Cissa’s been up three days keeping you from popping your cogs. If you destroy her hard work then we’ll certainly have words.”

Lucius. He’d know that scent and that supercilious drawl anywhere. And…sweet, clean lavender wafted over him.

Narcissa.

“She’s asleep, finally. You should also be asleep, as a hint.”

He managed an interrogative sort of noise.

Lucius sighed. “If you’re going to insist on being an obstreperous bratling, then I suppose I could sit with you for a while. You won’t be able to speak yet, so don’t even try.”

The familiar scold settled something within him. The bed dipped and Lucius sat carefully next to him. Cool fingers brushed his hair off his forehead.

“No fever, at least. If you get yourself into a froth she’ll put me six feet under, so we’ll do this calmly, please.”

It felt a bit as if he was a grubby firstie again.

“Would you like to know who found you?” Lucius asked.

Severus assented. Yes, he bloody well wanted to know who dragged him back to life (beyond Cissa, because of course she would).

Lucius’ low chuckle warmed him.

“Potter did. It always comes back to him, doesn’t it? He…I suppose I’d better tell you in sequence. You never liked a tale that hopped about in time.”

No, he did not.

“Did Potter see…what happened to you?”

Severus managed to shrug. He knew Potter saw the aftermath, but how much else was anyone’s guess. Knowing Potter, he saw all of it and had convinced himself it was all his own fault.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. We’re all free of it, you know? Whatever message you gave Potter, he did the thing properly and…came back, somehow. The Dark Lord’s reign is ended and somehow Potter convinced the Ministry that my family was coerced. How, I wonder, would he know I was given to the Dark Lord’s service as tribute by my father?”

The archly asked question had Severus freezing in place. Had Potter found…he had to have found what Severus left. He’d written it all down, everything he knew that no one else did, in the days leading up to the final battle. Trust the nosiest arsehole he’d ever had the misfortune of teaching to ferret it out.

“Ah, yes, apparently he also delivered quite the impassioned speech on the many ways the magical world has failed in the last several generations to the detachment of Aurors about to descend on my home. Thankfully the dossier information kept us from being arrested. I expect I’ll have some questions to answer.”

Severus agreed with that. But oh, what he’d give to see a memory of Potter doing that.

“Apparently, some time in the middle of the night, Potter remembered you and came charging up to the front doors, hammering on them and shouting. By the time we got down to open them, as we’d sent the elf on duty to bed, he’d been joined by the Weasley boy and that Granger chit who were unsuccessfully trying to calm him down.”

Severus snorted at that, but carefully.

“Quite,” Lucius agreed. “As with anything involving Potters, we unfortunately devolved into farce. Potter, who apparently never washed despite battle and being covered in what looked like most of your blood, having hysterics in the entry, shouting teenagers, such a wonderful scene. Granger kept trying to take over and the Weasley kept trying to shove them both behind him. Thankfully, Granger gave Cissa what she needed to know to mount a rescue and Draco got Potter calmed down.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, he got an elf to bring some of that revolting tea you like, sugared it ‘til the spoon practically stood up, and barked at Potter that he’d either drink it or be stunned. Weasley didn’t like that much, but seemed mollified when Potter did as he was told. I confess that I don’t particularly like the way Draco looked at Potter, but I expect I shall have to bear up under whatever Draco tells us.”

Severus snorted again.

“Cissa, Granger, and I went to get you while Draco and Weasley handled Potter. You…Severus, if you ever do anything like that again I will kill you myself. You looked dreadful and it took all Cissa’s skill to drag you back from the brink. Your robes are a loss, I’m afraid. Our laundry elf burst into tears when asked if they could be saved.”

Trust Lucius to focus on something like robes.

“Then we spent the last three days not being arrested and keeping you from succumbing to your injuries. I think Draco has Potter ensconced somewhere. I believe I heard an argument with Weasley and Granger over that. Something about clearly no one else is taking care of him and he’ll let them know when they can visit.” Lucius sighed. “He’s like his mother.”

And, Severus thought, his father, who looked at a ragamuffin firstie and decided that clearly that child was his.

“I don’t want to hear one word from you.” Lucius tapped Severus gently on the nose, a fond smile softening his features. “You need sleep.”

He wanted to protest, to ask for the memory of Potter, covered in gore and having hysterics in the Hall, but he knew a futile gambit when he thought of one. Lucius could be as unbending as Merlin’s staff. He sighed.

“Yes, I know. If you behave for Cissa, we’ll share our memories.”

That would have to do. Severus let himself relax slowly, let the sandalwood and lavender of Lucius and Narcissa wash over him.

Home. They’d brought him home.