#alas. my little wizard looks good

[soloavengers]

that’s one out of ninety nine art of metamorphosis down. no i can happily take pictures of him

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello!

What tipe of student do you think Harry were? Was he academicaly average? Do you think that any professor had him as favorite student?

Well, we know his O.W.L grades:

(HBP)

And these are great grades. Like, E is Exceeds Expectations because it exceeds expectations, it's beyond what's required.

O.W.Ls loosely mirror irl O-levels that are taken at 16, and N.E.W.Ts loosely mirror A-levels that are taken at 18 (the grading system and the exam system have changed over the years). But, if we look at the grades for the GCSE and O-Levels compared to the O.W.L, I think it would be something like this:

GCSE grades 9 to 4 (A* to C) – Certificate and qualification awarded. At GCSE, considered a 'standard pass', and awards a qualification at Level 2. GCSE grades 3 to 1 (D to G) – Certificate and qualification awarded. At GCSE, awards a qualification at Level 1. U: ungraded/unclassified – no certificate or qualification awarded.

(From Wikipedia + my WW additions)

Since, let's be real, the Wizarding World is using an older standard than the muggle one. Also, this fits the descriptions we get of the grades in the W.O.M.B.A.T.s exams pretty well:

Passing: Outstanding - CONGRATULATIONS! Your exemplary powers of deduction and a formidable knowledge of the inner workings of the magical world reveal you to be a witch or wizard of genuine skill and learning. This first examination has barely tested you. We look forward to challenging you to a further and more difficult examination in due course. Exceeds Expectations - Well done - a most creditable performance! We are impressed by the breadth of your magical knowledge and your level of insight into the wizarding world. We hope that you will attempt our next, and more difficult, examination in due course. Passing: Acceptable - We are pleased to tell you that you have passed your Grade 1 W.O.M.B.A.T. Your knowledge of the workings of the wizarding world demonstrates real magical potential. We hope that you will continue to study further and attempt W.O.M.B.A.T. Grade 2 in due course. Failing: Poor - Alas - we regret to inform you that you have narrowly failed your Grade 1 W.O.M.B.A.T. This may have been due to factors outside your control (eg: poltergeist intervention, examination nerves or a malfunctioning quill.). Please do not disconsolate. Another examination will present itself in due course, should you wish to try again. Dreadful - We are sorry to inform you that you have failed your Grade 1 W.O.M.B.A.T. A little further study of the textbooks is recommended. Should you wish to try again, a grade 2 W.O.M.B.A.T. will present itself in due course. Troll - You would appear either to have abandoned the test due to factors outside your control (eg, earthquake, poltergeist attack), or else you are a troll, in which case you are to be congratulated on being able to use a computer and have achieved the grade of O.F.T. (Outstanding for Trolls).

(Source. If you want to take the W.O.M.B.A.Ts exams, you can here)

The point is that E is a good grade and Harry (and Ron) can get very good grades with little to no study. If they had studied as much as Hermione, they would be O students too.

Like, we see N.E.W.T Potions has only 12 out of the original 40 in the whole year:

When they arrived in the corridor they saw that there were only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently failed to achieve the required O.W.L. grade, but four Slytherins had made it through, including Malfoy. Four Ravenclaws were there, and one Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry liked despite his rather pompous manner.

(HBP)

Only 12 out of 40 get an E or O in Potions (Harry, Ron & Hermione are the only Gryffindors in the class). We know Neville managed an E in Charms but only got an A in Transfiguration. Getting an E is considered hard and not something everyone does. I mean, in DADA, even Hermione didn't get an O! Becouse being "really good" gets an E, you gotta be truly exceptional to get an O.

The "average" student passes 3-5 O.W.Ls (Neville only passed 4 O.W.Ls. Fred and George passed 3 each and it doesn't seem odd to anyone - though in their case it's not because they're average, but because they didn't care about school), good students probably get 6-7 O.W.Ls and very good students get 8-10 O.W.Ls with only extremely talented students passing more than that. And passing doesn't inherently qualify you for N.E.W.T classes. So, Harry (7 O.W.Ls, and he might've passed history with an A if it wasn't for the visions from Voldemort since he didn't even finish the exam) and Ron (7 O.W.Ls) are actually above-average students in terms of grades.

(Some subjects, like Charms, are considered easier than subjects like Potions and Transfiguration, so the percentages there would look a little different)

And his teachers think of him positively for the most part:

“You see what you expect to see, Severus,” said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. “Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.”

(DH)

McGonagall has no qualms about Harry wanting to be an auror because she knows he is intelligent:

“You’d need top grades for that,” said Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under the mass on her desk and opening it. “They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under ‘Exceeds Expectations’ grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It’s a difficult career path, Potter; they only take the best. In fact, I don’t think anybody has been taken on in the last three years.” [...] “I would also advise Transfiguration, because Aurors frequently need to Transfigure or Untransfigure in their work. And I ought to tell you now, Potter, that I do not accept students into my N.E.W.T. classes unless they have achieved ‘Exceeds Expectations’ or higher at Ordinary Wizarding Level. I’d say you’re averaging ‘Acceptable’ at the moment, so you’ll need to put in some good hard work before the exams to stand a chance of continuing. Then you ought to do Charms, always useful, and Potions. Yes, Potter, Potions,” she added, with the merest flicker of a smile. “Poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than ‘Outstanding’ in their O.W.L.s, so —”

(OotP)

Harry reminds me a lot of my younger brother when he was a high school student honestly (Ron, too, tbh). Because he's really smart, and he could get Os (As) in all his subjects if he felt like it and put it the effort, and McGonagall knows this. The only reason he doesn't get top grades is because he doesn't apply himself, and we see it in the books repeatedly.

We see he does his homework on time, but he usually stays up on the last night to make it, like Ron:

“Come on, we’ve got to get this finished some time before dawn,” he said briskly to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra’s essay back toward him. Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face. “Oh, give them here,” she said abruptly. “What?” said Ron. “Give them to me, I’ll look through them and correct them,” she said. “Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you’re a lifesaver,” said Ron, “what can I — ?” “What you can say is, ‘We promise we’ll never leave our homework this late again,’ ” she said, holding out both hands for their essays, but she looked slightly amused all the same. “Thanks a million, Hermione,” said Harry weakly, passing over his essay and sinking back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.

(OotP)

And that he doesn't study for exams as much as he could (he usually spends the end of the year at the hospital wing, so, it makes sense). Basically, Harry is really smart and he manages to get passing grades on basically no study at all. That's really impressive. Like, McGonagall, I believe that with just minimal effort he could be an almost all-Os student. And when he does study just a little more (like to the O.W.Ls) he does get higher grades.

But he did read his school books before his first year:

Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic. His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased.

(PS)

And he entered his first Potions class with the intention of studying properly, he read the books before class in the measly month he had to prepare:

“I don’t know, sir.” “Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?” Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

(PS)

So, I think, in canon, since Harry has so much else going on (mysteries and misadventures) and Ron is a bad influence on his studies (I love Ron, but he is a bad influence on Harry's studies), he waits with most of his assignments to the last moment and doesn't study as much as he could. But he does make them and except for Potions with Snape, he gets decent grades for them. If he had more free time without a mystery to solve, we'd probably see him doing homework earlier and maybe putting in more effort. But even with close to minimal effort (which is what he does), he is a student with good grades who most teachers clearly see as smart and capable.

Edit becouse I forgot to mention it: we see Harry apply himself to studying potions in HBP when he spends hours deciphering the Prince's notes, and lo and behold, when Harry takes time to study he becomes an O student at the top of the class in his supposedly "worst subject". Just goes to show it's all about effort for him because he has the brain and talent.

Harry is the student that if Hogwarts had parent-teacher conferences (and Harry had parents), McGonagall would be all like: "He is bright and has potential if he only applied himself".

And that sentence is Harry as a student in a nutshell.

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

In Vino Veritas (In Wine, There is Truth) - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav (Sorceress/Magic User)

Warnings: FLUFF (the sickeningly sweet kind). Angst. Insecure/Jealous!Astarion. Drunk!Astarion. Soft/Clingy!Astarion. Astarion is in his feelings. Love Confessions. BG3 Spoilers (Early Act I). Mutual Pining. Oblivious!Tav. Honestly kind of Sub!Astarion vibes. Not Proofread!

Wordcount: 2,589

Summary: After seeing you bonding with the other companions, Astarion is in deep with his emotions. This leads to him staggering off to a bar in a nearby town, and you go looking for him as you are worried about him. Once you find him, a confession of love spills from his lips unprompted.

A/N: Can vampires even get drunk? I’m not entirely sure, but that’s what this is about. This wasn’t a request, just something I was interested in writing. I haven’t written Astarion in this way before, but I think I like how it turned out. Thank you guys for all the love on my Astarion fics! I appreciate it immensely. Also, two posts in one day is kind of insane for me. Enjoy!

You weren’t always confident in yourself or your abilities. However, your recent adventures with Lae’zel, Astarion, and Gale have boosted your self-esteem. Gale had even approached you one night rambling about the “weave” and how he wanted you to experience it. You were able to conjure it with favorable ease, however you backed away once he had come onto you. Astarion stood in disgust as he watched the scene unravel. Gale was clearly attracted to you, and clearly wanted in your pants at one point or another. Astarion wouldn’t mind being in your pants either, at one point or another.

Secretly, Astarion envied your naivety, your ability to be fairly oblivious to many people’s advances. Heck, you didn’t even notice Gale’s constant passing glances until he was quite literally leaning in to kiss you, impressed by your ability to conjure the weave with little effort. You turned away nearly instantly, at least once you realized.

You were fairly friendly, which led a lot of suitors to believe that you were interested in them. Gale was no different. The wizard felt that you showed great potential, and he was impressed by your magical abilities. Initially, you believed this to be friendly behavior from Gale, but alas, he felt more for you than that. You had a difficult time turning him down, as you did with most. Gale wasn’t a bad guy, he just – wasn’t for you. Astarion had to spend some time alone after watching you and Gale bond. He felt a pain in his chest while watching the scene.

He was glad to find out that you had rejected Gale, which Gale had let him know (unprompted, of course) one night while out by the fire. Gale was working on his magic, Astarion was reading, and you were sleeping dreadfully well after the long day.

Soon after, you, Lae’zel, Astarion and Gale met Wyll on the way to the grove. You had a battle with the goblins and gained a new ally in Wyll. Unfortunately, Astarion had placed himself right in the midst of the conflict, leading him to take quite the beating. So, when Wyll offered to join the party, you felt it was obvious to have Wyll take his place. Lae’zel and Gale were in moderately good shape afterwards. “Fine,” Astarion spoke merely one word, then turned around in a dejected manner, slumping his way away from the group. When he glanced back, he saw Wyll laughing at something you had said, which caused the pain in his chest to worsen.

Astarion had to walk through a nearby town in order to get back to camp, which is where the mistakes began. He spotted a tavern, which looked acceptable – albeit rundown in comparison to the ones he frequented in Baldur’s Gate. The thought of alcohol to tame his present emotions didn’t seem so terrible. I mean, was he really that replaceable to you? If you were honest, the only reason you sent him away was because of how damaged he looked after battle. Part of you wanted to go with him, or at least offer, but he had walked away too quickly for you to even respond. You probably should have gone after him, instead you turned to your new companion in order to get acquainted.

Your mistake was recognized after you got back to camp last night – because where the hell was Astarion? All of his belongings were still around, but he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t bathing, but perhaps he could be hunting? It seemed fairly abnormal for him to just wander off. It was getting fairly late and Astarion still hadn’t arrived back at camp. You were getting worried.

“Has anyone seen Astarion?” You asked everyone who was still awake. The group shook their heads. You kept telling yourself that he probably just was out hunting. Yet something didn’t feel right.

“I’m worried about him, guys. I sent him back to camp and he’s nowhere to be found.” You commented, with Shadowheart being the first to respond. “It’s Astarion, Tav. It’s not like he’s known to be the most reliable, even in the few days we’ve known him.” Her fondness for you was shining through, and her almost envious tone showed her distain for your anxious thoughts about the pale elf companion.

You decided to backtrack on the path away from camp, the one that Astarion would have taken back, trying to retrace his steps. You hoped that he hadn’t collapsed somewhere, that was absolutely your worst fear. You couldn’t help but worry at the thought of losing Astarion. He had already been through so much - that you were incredibly aware of.

You wandered the dim, moonlit trail, hoping that you would find a sign of him anywhere. You peered through the forest trees, but with little avail. You thought about shouting out to him but thought better of it. You could attract someone – or something, rather, that you’d prefer not to. You decided to keep as quiet as you could.

You crept towards the nearby town. Given that the afternoon had far past, the only open facility was the tavern. It was old, but well-kept given its state. The building itself was made from stone, with a large oak wooden door at its front. It vibrated with livelihood from the activities of indoors. This tavern was likely the sole place in town where folks could go to have a decent time. Through the windows, you spotted various ages and races of people, all joined together in dancing, drinking, chatting, and even singing. You didn’t see Astarion, but you figured that asking surely wouldn’t hurt. Maybe they knew of his whereabouts.

The door creaked open as you entered, revealing the brightly candlelit interior of the tavern. The wood floors were certainly run down, likely from years of wear and tear and dancing upon them. Many eyes fell upon you when you entered. Your footsteps were light, but your presence was different for the townsfolk. You were new. Astarion had felt similarly when he moved into space, but they had become used to his presence by now. Not only that, but he had spent copious amounts of gold on drinks, which was certainly appreciated. You didn’t know that though, not yet.

The townsfolk had accepted your presence within a few moments of entering, with one muttering to another “she’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” before gulping down more beer, then standing up to make a move on you. You were quite oblivious to this situation, moving steadily towards the barkeep, hoping she might be able to tell you of Astarion’s whereabouts, as you moved through the bar and still didn’t take notice of the elf.

“Eh, darlin!” You heard a man grunt at you, but you didn’t want to acknowledge him. The words almost hit your ears in just the right way, the eerie similarity to Astarion’s word choice was uncanny.

As you approached the bar, the barmaid approached you sweetly. She was an older lady with deep raven hair, likely had worked there for a substantial portion of time, perhaps even being the owner of the place. “Hi, dear. What can I get goin’ for you?” She inquired with a courteous smile. “Nothing quite yet for me. I’m looking for my friend, he’s an elf with white hair, he probably would have passed by here several hours ago.”

“Aw! You must be Tav! He wouldn’t stop rambling about you while he was here. I think he slumped over to the bathroom, we tried to sober him up, but he was lookin’ pretty sick.” The barkeep gestured to the doors in the corner, and you nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be back.”

You pushed your way through the patrons in order to place several knocks on the only closed door. “Astarion?” You raised your voice to ensure that he heard you over the music that boasted in the background. You leaned your head against the door, hoping to hear a response from him. You nearly fell as suddenly the door was replaced with air, and a stumbling Astarion approached you. “Darling!” He exclaimed. This new, puppy-like energy contrasted with his always stoic exterior. You went to scold him, about to go off about his selfishness in abandoning camp like that, but before you could, his rambling continued.

“Goodness, you look phenomenal. I can hardly take it.” You looked at him, creases forming on your face as your mind became more puzzled. Astarion was typically a flirty person, but this was different. For some reason, it seemed – sincere?

“Astarion, what are you doing here?”

“Well I got sad, so I decided to have a few – um – drinks.” His words slurred as they exited his lips, which did not promote truth in his sentence. “A few?” He nodded eagerly in response, and you grabbed at the fabric near his shoulder in order to tug him over to the bar. “Do you know how many drinks he’s had?” You asked the barmaid, hoping she could provide some insight. “In the double digits, certainly. Spent most of his time downing drinks and talking about your ‘delectability.’”

She responded as you took a deep breath. Astarion, who was lent up against your shoulder now, and could hardly maintain composure, brought an index finger to usher the woman quiet, pressing it against her lips. “SHHHH.” He spoke loudly, before she removed his finger in a swift motion. Astarion leant towards your ear, whispering “she’s just talking about how it’s more noticeable that I’m in love with you when I’m tipsy.” Your eyes shot open for the first time in hours. You had maintained heavy lids since post battle; however you hadn’t heard anything this shocking in weeks. You couldn’t help the way that your cheeks now sprouted a flushed, pink hue.

“You somehow get even cuter when you blush.” Astarion spoke, and you placed your head in your hands, which Astarion immediately tried to pull away “don’t, please, you’re so pretty.” You almost rolled your eyes, what if this was all some strange dream? Don’t get you wrong, there were many nights that you dreamt of the day that Astarion would approach you in this way, you just – didn’t think it would happen. You finally released your face from your hands and looked at the barmaid. “We’ll be leaving now, thank you.” You grabbed on to Astarion once more, tugging him towards the large oak door at the entrance.

“Someone’s in trouble!” One of the men shouted from across the bar at the scene. “I hope so!” Astarion shouted back, and you tugged him harder.

As the overwhelm was diluted by the calm of the outdoors, and your faces were hit by the cool air, you turned to face him.

“Astarion, what the hells is going on?” Your question was slightly louder than intended, especially since you had to raise your voice to be heard inside of the bar.

Immediately, you were faced with a pout on Astarion’s lips and dilated pupils as he gazed at you. “Please don’t be mad, darling.”

“I just want to know if you’re okay.” You responded, your features softening, which comforted him.

“I just-“ he stammered, having a difficult time finding the words. He looked back to you, seeing how patient you were, and he relaxed, with help from the alcohol that still coursed steadily through him. “you’re perfect.” For the second time tonight, your eyes widened like craters. You were nearly at a loss for words, but as you went to speak, Astarion interrupted you.

“Gods, Tav! Gale is entranced by you, Shadowheart has definitely caught feelings, Lae’zel wants you to give her bruises, and did you see the way that Wyll looked at you today?” He inquired, and you meagerly shook your head. “Not to mention I’m fucking in love with you! And I can’t even show it! I haven’t felt this way, like, ever, with anyone! And I’m fucking terrified, Tav!”

He gesticulated harshly as he spoke, his pent-up energy finally releasing. You moved towards him, holding your arms out, almost as an offering to him. He looked at you with soft eyes, then headed towards you himself, wrapping his arms around your waist, as yours fell across his shoulders. He relaxed into your touch, leaning his face to nuzzle in your neck. “Please don’t let me go.” Astarion pleaded.

“I won’t, Star.” You whispered into his ear, and you could feel him sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry I was jealous and upset.”

“Don’t be sorry for feeling the way you do, Astarion.” These words nearly brought a drunken Astarion to tears, but he was able to focus on the way you felt in his arms instead. You were able to convince him to cease the hug in order to walk back to camp, but he insisted that he needed to have a hand on you at all times to be assured that “you wouldn’t let him go.” So, it ended up with his hand intertwined with yours for the duration of the short journey back, along with him leaning on you to keep steady.

The rest of the companions were awaiting your return to camp and sighed in relief when you arrived. They were slightly surprised to see Astarion lent up against you, with your frame keeping him upright. Shadowheart seemed to roll her eyes in annoyance at the pale elf’s return, but was thankful you were alright, nonetheless. They stayed quiet, as it seemed more like an “ask questions later” type of circumstance. Since they now knew you were safe, they deemed it acceptable to retreat to their own tents for the night.

You teetered Astarion over to his own tent, facing him as he stared at you with puppy dog eyes. “You’ll stay?” He asked, and you looked at him with similar eyes. “Please?” He followed up, and you nodded. “Let’s go to my tent, though. Is that alright?”

“As long as I’m with you.”

You lead Astarion to your – somewhat more put together tent, with a larger bedroll that could fit the both of you situated on the floor. He stared in awe as he admired the colors within, it was actually quite cozy.

You put yourself in bed as normal, while Astarion seemed to stand with a blank look on his face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the tent, as if this was new to him. “You okay, Astarion?” You asked, and he nodded. “More than okay, actually.” He responded, and you smiled. You reached your arms out, beckoning him towards you “come here, then, sweet boy.” He grinned giddily, nearly diving into your arms.

-

Astarion woke up in the somewhat unfamiliar environment of your tent, with a throbbing headache. However, he realized that he was sprawled across your lap, and decided to be content in the fact that even though he didn’t remember a single thing about last night, he knew that he had wound up in the right place, in the right person’s arms.

You noticed he had woken from the fluttering of his eyelashes on your skin, and you brought your hand to his hair in order to play with it ever so slightly. “Good morning, handsome” you spoke.

“Good morning, darling. What in the hells happened last night?” He responded, turning towards you with a smirk on his face. “Did I get as lucky as I hope I did?” Sober Astarion was back, that was for certain.

[baldurs-gape]

Gap in the Resume

In a way, Gale should have been grateful to Elminster, the man had pulled strings to get him the interview. Life was all well and good but he did feel a little guilty for relying so heavily on Astarion, not to mention it was setting a bad example that they made ends meet through skills of theft and contract killings. Determined to make an honest life, Gale had started job hunting once life had started to settle a bit and his hands weren't quite so full. Brushing out an invisible wrinkle from his tunic, he waited on the creaky leather sofa. Finally, the door opened.

"Mr. Dekarios?"

Standing so quickly his vision speckled, Gale tried to look confident as he approached the Dean of the school. It wasn't Blackstaff, he couldn't go back there, not after everything but a less prestigious school might just be what he needed.

"Good to meet you, and please, call me Gale." He shook hands with her eagerly and settled on the even less comfortable chair by the impressive desk.

"Elminster has talked highly about you and your skills. It made me think that perhaps you were a little too modest on your CV."

"Yes, well, some things are easier to explain in words than with in on paper."

The Dean looked at him over her glasses with a smile. "Well, here's your chance, Gale. Why would an ex-Chosen of Mystra herself want to teach at our school of all places?"

Rather than say that he was scraping the barrell and needed his old mentor's help in getting honest work, Gale tried to smile, cleared his throat and straightened his back. He'd rehearsed this, it was going to be fine, smooth even."

"Teaching has been somewhat thrust upon me in the last eight years or so. It's a little difficult to always keep track of time in the Underdark. It wasn't a career I had ever really entertained until I got firsthand experience of how rewarding it could be."

So far so good, the Dean nodded along and settled back with a more relaxed posture. Emboldened, Gale decided it was better to throw in some examples to back his words up.

"Perhaps my proudest moment as a teacher was when I took a small group on an expedition towards Lenore's tower and we encountered yet another minotaur - I swear they are the cockroaches of the Underdark - and the six with me made a meal of it." The somewhat puzzled look he received had him rushing to explain. "Before it would have been a lot of snapping and snarling at each other, more blood wasted than drank. Sebastian had a nasty habit of trying to claw the eyes out of anyone who so much as was near him when drinking. Yet there he was, happily sharing the bounty with five others!"

"Mr. Dekarios, Gale-" the Dean held up a finger, "-just what exactly do you teach? I was under the impression you were a wizard."

"I am!" Indignant, Gale huffed. "But you try teaching magic to 7000 feral vampire spawn. Manners had to come first."

"Seven. Thousand. Vampire. Spawn."

Nodding with vigour, Gale's arms came into play as he began to explain.

"We were responsible for them after freeing them. Well, first we had to sort out the Netherbrain while the Gur rounded them up and kept them safe from everyone including themselves. It wasn't like we could abandon them. I happen to take responsibility very seriously. It began with a book club for the more recently turned and those interested and just grew from there." Barely stopping to take a breath, he continued, "Trust me, I wanted to show them the wonders of magic but some of them couldn't even read, a tracesty if you ask me."

A strained smile appeared on the Dean's face. She sat primly, hands clasped on the table between them.

"Did this happen after your status as Chosen was revoke?"

"Yes. Well, not immediately. I spent a year trying to tame the Netherese orb in my chest." At that, the Dean looked alarmed. "Don't worry, it's all taken care of now, it's old news. But for a year I worked heavily on the research of the elimination of Netherese fragments bonded to a human entity. Alas before I could refine my findings and publish, a Nautiloid snatched me up as I was hanging my washing. Now, I know mindflayers don't have emotions in the same capacity but it was downright rude. Then they put the tadpole in my brain."

By that point the strained smile had fallen away and the Dean was outright alarmed, edging away from the table and away from Gale. Off script and caught up in the story, he wasn't slowing down.

"Anyway, you've probably heard of the Baldur's Gate Netherbrain incident. That was me and a couple of others who are now good friends of mine. But try putting that on a resume. It wasn't relevant to teaching magic really. I don't want to walk into the classroom as some mighty hero, I just want to be normal and treated as such. And now the spawn as all mostly settled, I feel I can leave them without fear of any incidents. I did so enjoy teaching them that I thought; why not? I could do this with young people. They'll probably be more likely to singe off your eyebrows by mistake than try to drain you of blood. Much cheaper if you ask me, scrolls of revivify used to make up a good 70% of our weekly expenses."

Tirade over, Gale leaned back in his chair and sighed, glad to have got that all out. A little sheepish at having gone so far off script, he offered a tiny smile. "Do you have any other questions about the gap in my resume? Because I don't think I touched on the mental health of students. Mystra demanded repeatedly that I kill myself. It is safe to say I wouldn't ever be anything but accepting and nurturing of even the most frustrating minds in the classroom. They're safe with me."

"Actually," the Dean's voice was a little breathy, "I think you've been very informative, thank you. I can let you know the outcome of the interview in the next tenday once all interviews for the position have concluded. Thank you so much for coming in today."

She stood and Gale copied. This time she didn't stand close to usher him out the room, a rather large amount of space was left between them. Gale's heart sank. It wasn't the first time an interview ended so abruptly and with such false smiles. Nodding, he turned to the door and left.

Outside, Astarion was leaning against the wall, covered from head to toe for safety.

"How did it go?" he asked.

Sadly, Gale shook his head and deflated. "I went off script. At least she didn't call security I guess?"

"Not to worry. We'll find a place. Hells, we could probably even found it, the Underdark Academy, a place for the unruly to come and be transformed into etiquette experts. What do you think?"

Laughing, Gale bumped their shoulders and sighed, trying to let go of the disappointment that had settled in his gut.

"You say the sweetest things to me, don't you?"

Their hands tangled until fingers interlaced and Astarion pulled it up to press a kiss to the back of Gale's. This job wasn't to be but that was alright. They had all the time in the world to figure it all out. And for Gale to discover that while he was in the interview, Astarion had stolen anything that moved from the school.

[graysparrowao3]

i'm thinking. Maybe Rolan is in heat. And the infuriatingly flirty and handsome Zhent guy who keeps trying to get discounts might be populating Rolan's horny thoughts. Maybe Rolan asks this Rugan guy if he'd like a...ah, mission. a very special mission that would imply them locked into Rolan's room for three days

Oh ho ho, what a message! Well this is new for me! You sure are thinking thoughts... Thank you for sharing them! ... Now I'm thinking them too...

Interesting… two of my favourite blorbos, conveniently in such an improper situation…🤔 Hope you don’t mind, I had a play around with how such a discussion might go. Hopefully it's got the same sort of vibes you were thinking too!

Summary: Rugan wants a discount. Rolan wants release. They come to an agreement.

Words: 1,108

Very suggestive, not outright explicit.

A bead of sweat laced down Rolan’s neck and tickled as it slid beneath his collar. He tried to adjust the fabric, but little good it did. He was burning from the inside out, infernal resistance be damned.

His entire damn body was pulsing in knots; a bottled up rolling thunder threatening to detonate. Instead of having the company or decency to take care of it, he was trying desperately to concentrate through the steam in his head and take stock and procure items and take payments. Then a figure appeared at the entrance of Sorcerous Sundries; sandy hair tied back and an infuriatingly charming smile pulling at the lines around his crystal eyes.

Just who he did not need to be putting up with right now.

The human strode through the wide, open double doors like his balls hardly fit and deposited himself at the counter, lounging against it and ignoring the fact that Rolan was still finishing a transaction with another customer.

“Y’alright, gorgeous,” Rugan winked.

Rolan blew frustrated air from his nostrils as he completed the exchange and cast his eyes sideways over to the annoyingly handsome interruption. “I suppose you imagine that might actually work one of these days?”

“You are a tease,” Rugan clicked his tongue. “Go on, be an absolute gem and do us a favour.”

“I’m not sorry to say I shan’t. Are you actually going to be making a purchase this time or shall we skip forward to the part where I demand your swift departure?”

Rugan made a show of patting the firm sides of his waist. “Alas, I seem to find myself tragically short in the coin department.”

“I’ll attempt not to be overcome with disbelief,” Rolan muttered, letting his eyes linger far too long where the human’s fingers rested on his lean body, dangerously close to the tempting creases where his thighs met his groin. “I see you are once again under a misconception that this is not a place of business where goods and services are available for purchase.”

Noting the direction of the wizard’s gaze, Rugan’s own eyes narrowed as he studied the tiefling. The desperate glisten on his skin, the hungry flare in his eyes, the awkward shifting between his feet to hide the discomfort of his need. Oh, now this he could work with.

Rugan let his tongue wet his lips as his lilting voice danced indecently across the space between them. “Looks to me like I’m not the one in need of said goods and services.”

“I’ve no idea what you could possibly mean,” Rolan said dismissively.

“Now I could be wrong,” Rugan’s voice lowered as he leaned over the counter, “but something tells me you’ve need of a man well-versed in his trade.”

Rolan raked his eyes up and down the worn leather and tight straps that outlined the human’s body. He didn’t realize the tip of tongue also flickered across his lips. “You are a mercenary of some description?”

“Aye,” Rugan lip pulled into a lopsided smile. “Let’s go with that.”

“Then I’ve had more than enough of you and your compatriots.” Rolan snapped his head towards the open doors of the establishment, and Rugan followed his sightline. 

In the courtyard outside some loud gobshite with a rat’s nest on his head wouldn’t shut up about the song of the night or some such rubbish. Rugan shook his disapproving head. He turned back to the wizard and gestured with his hand to emphasize his point. “What you need is a professional.”

“If only there were such a thing in this Godsforsaken city.” Rolan’s tongue hung deliciously on the sibilance.

“You’re in luck,” Rugan rolled his shoulders and braced himself on the counter in a way that made his biceps strain against the material of his sleeves and his chest press against the leather. “A consummate professional. At your service.”

Rolan indiscreetly adjusted his robes. “What I want would be a paying customer.”

“Said I don’t have the coin,” Rugan stared up, his bright eyes meeting the fire in Rolan's. An obscene smirk could be heard in his voice. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t pay.”

A deep maroon flared across Rolan’s cheekbones and he turned away. He covered his flush of flaring need with a cough, missing the smirk that flashed across Rugan’s face. When the wizard turned back, he paused, one nail tapping incessantly on the counter surface.

“Perhaps…" Rolan said, slowly. "I could find a task for you. A contract, if you like. Unofficial. Unaffiliated with Sorcerous business.”

An indecent smile grew on Rugan’s lips. “Now you’re talking. Always best when things are on the smart side of official.”

“I could…” Rolan cleared his throat, then raised his chin to maintain some essence of dignity. “Use a hand. Personal matters.”

The way one of Rugan’s brows raised in a suggestive curve was not subtle. “You don’t say?”

“I imagine a professional might find other suitable ways to go about it.”

“Oh, I imagine you’re right about that.” The Zhentarim agent’s wicked grin broadened.

“Then we’re in agreement. In exchange for a selection of items of your choosing,” Rolan swallowed. “You will… assist me.”

“I can only imagine what such a notable purveyor of his craft might need assisting with,” Rugan let an elbow rest on the counter and leant his chin on his fist as he crooned across it. “Consider me your dutiful apprentice.”

Rolan imagined he’d be calling the man a great many things in the near future, though that would not be among them. He found the sharp attitude that often clipped his voice, a flare of arrogance to cover his indignity. “I'm quite the particular employer, I expect your undivided attention. It may take some time.”

Rugan reached forward and hooked a finger under the cool, silver curve of Rolan’s mantle. He jerked it down, forcing the wizard’s head towards his. Rugan leaned close, his tone low and gruff as his rough cheek grazed against the tiefling. “It’ll take as long as I say it will.”

Rolan’s face burned as he was released from the Zhent’s grip, a hand instinctively against his heaving chest, desire hard between his legs. He blinked for breath, then turned around and called out across the echoing chamber of Sorcerous Sundries. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are closing immediately. Management does apologize but you must depart the building at once.”

The patrons had not quite all left when an impatient, stern hand smacked firm onto Rolan’s backside.

“Hope you’re as tightly wound as you look, sunshine,” Rugan’s breath was hot on his ear. “Because I’ve got one hell of a shopping list.”

[loquaciousquark]

when will eppie hawke and fenris meet tavish and astarion? (:

"And anyway, it won't be that bad. One last little Fade rift. We'll barricade it up as best we can, send a message to Skyhold, go home, and—"

One of the craggy footholds crumbles away beneath Hawke's foot, and it's only Fenris's quick hand that saves her from a plummet back down the side of the barren mountain. "Hawke, please."

"Please yourself. I said you didn't have to come."

Fenris throws her a longsuffering look, the flickering green lightning of the rift casting weird shadows over his eyes, but he doesn't let go of her arm until she's got both feet on solid ground again. "Just seal it and let this be done."

"My heart's only desire, lover," Hawke says, smiling, just as another pair of voices rises from the other side of the rift.

"Careful—careful! It shocks like the entire Hells are in there. Where's Gale?"

"Wherever Karlach dropped him, I suppose, with that little sprained ankle of his. No, I see them, they're almost here. Come away, darling. No need to get so dramatically close."

"This, from you?" says the woman, just as she and her fellow voice round the far edge of the rift. "Oh!"

"Well!" Hawke says almost at the same moment. Two of them after all: a short, slim woman with auburn hair pulled back in a low tail, and a tall, lithe man with hair as white as Fenris's and eyes that gleam like rubies. The man has a dagger drawn already, a thin smile playing over his face; the woman's fingers rest on her sheathed rapier, but her gaze is open, friendly. Hawke plants her staff on the rocky ground in as welcoming a gesture as she can manage. "Fancy running into someone like you up here of all places."

"I could say the same," the woman says. The green rift, still hanging between them and stretching a good twenty feet into the sky, gives an ominous rumble. "Our wizard's been fretting about magical disturbances along the city's borders for weeks. He finally traces the source to this location, and here you are at the heart of it. I'd like to believe it's coincidence."

"Alas," Hawke says, "one of my greatest faults is a terrible habit of being around when things begin. Fenris can attest to that better than most." She lays a hand on Fenris's shoulder, but he's stiff as iron, eyes glued to the man's dagger, and he's reached back for the hilt of his greatsword. "I'm Hawke, by the way."

"Call me Tav."

"And I'm Astarion," the man says grandly, accompanied by a wholly unnecessary flourish of his dagger. "We're here to steal the world."

"Save it," Tav says sharply.

"Of course, my dear. Save the world. What did I say?"

Fenris makes a short, disgusted noise, but Hawke's pleased to see he's let go of his own sword. She doesn't think this Astarion is going to kill them—not easily, anyway—and she likes the look of Tav despite herself. Both of them quick on their feet, she thinks, both moving gracefully with an innate, self-assured balance. As Tav steps around the rift Astarion moves with her like water, without even needing to see where she's gone. It reminds her a great deal of Fenris and herself, actually, though Hawke would give an arm to trust her own feet that much.

Fenris, it seems, has come to similar conclusions, and he rolls his shoulders as he releases their tension. Even his voice has lost its nascent fury, which for Fenris is practically friendly in situations like this. "The rift is dangerous. We will guard it until the Inquisitor can seal it permanently. Be on your way."

"Inquisitor?" drawls Astarion with that same, thin-lipped smile. "Sounds like someone from dear Shadowheart's former enclave, don't you think?"

"I don't think they're Sharran," Tav says. "Are you?"

"What a speculative look you've put on," Hawke says, delighted. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Unless you'd like me to be Sharran, in which case, I most certainly am and in fact have always been."

Both Fenris and Astarion roll their eyes—hilarious in its own right, but heightened by the clear antipathy still remaining between them. Fenris sighs. "Hawke—"

The rift explodes.

Green lightning shatters over the rocky cliff. The rumble bursts into a deafening roar; the faint breeze that had been dancing around them sweeps up into a hurricane. The air cracks and snaps with a sudden smell of ozone.

Hawke throws her hand over her eyes. She can't see—the wind tears her hair from its bindings and she can't see past the brilliant flashes of blazing green and she can't hear— "Fenris!"

Someone's fingers wrap around hers. She wrenches up her staff, calls for fire—for ice—for anything—but the rift has become a maelstrom and every scrap of magic sucks into the raging whirl before she can shape it. Her boots skid on the stone as she tries to brace against the inexorable pull, pebbles and rocks rattling along every step. She can't—the hand wrapped around hers has seized tight as a vise, but she's slipping anyway, and Maker, she can't—

A man's echoing voice, stripped bare of all artifice, wild with fear: "Tav!"

The wind dies. Not slowly, not gradually; it falls off like someone's upturned a glass over the rocky cliff, and Hawke's ears roar in the sudden silence. The wind is gone, and the rift is gone with it as if it had never been, the thunderous clouds that had been swirling above it already dissipating to glimpses of blue morning sky.

"Andraste preserve me," Hawke says, loud in the quiet, and she looks over to see Tav still crouched against the face of the mountain. One of Tav's hands clutches a dagger she'd wedged deep into a stony crevice; the other is still wrapped tight around Hawke's wrist where she'd pulled her away from the tempest.

No sign of Fenris. No sign of the other one—Astarion. A long white scrape in the stone marks where Fenris's sword had sought and failed to find purchase, disappearing at the precise place where the rift had torn itself open.

Gone. Gone, gone. Her heart hammers in her throat, and she indulges in thirty seconds of agonizing grief before she sets it aside, turns, and pulls Tav to her feet.

"Well," Hawke says at last. "Looks like it's just you and me, then. Ready for an adventure?"

"Yes," Tav says, her grip on Hawke's hand like steel, and her eyes blaze. "You and me. Let's get them back."

—

Everything hurts. Everything godsdamned hurts, and Astarion lets out a pained groan as he rolls to his back and drops his arm over his face. His ears ring like bells, and something twinges painfully in his left hip, and the inconvenient sun has decided to blaze right in his face and gods damn it, he'd known they ought to wait for Gale. Wretched wizard and his weak ankles. Wretched Tav and her complete inability—

"Tav," Astarion says, and sits bolt upright.

No Tav. Not even the dark-haired sorcerer with the wide smile. Just that taciturn warrior in leather and half-plate seated on a rock a few feet away, watching Astarion get his bearings, his greatsword slung across his knees and a deeply sour look on his tattooed face. The skies above them are clear and blue as a song.

No Tav. No Hawke. No rift. No plan, and no company besides an irascible stranger with the same sudden look of dawning horror.

"Venhedis."

"Shit."

[chriscalledmesweetie]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

 Dec 26 2024

Nov 8 2024

If you need a laugh, for reasons…

Allow me to offer:

I Am John Watson, I Speak for the Curls

Reverse Psychology

Three Continents, No Compliments

The Wake-Up Fairy

Cocky Locky

X Marks the Spots

Unconventional

Not in Front of the Children

Sherlock and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week

Nov 7 2024

Feel-Good Fluff

In case anyone needs this, for reasons:

If You Give Sherlock a Biscuit

If You Give John a Jumper

John is NOT the Little Red Hen

The Three Holmes-Watsons Gruff

Midnight Becomes You

The Story

Biscuits

Do You Want to Know a Secret?

Every Song Reminds Me of You

Wizard of Paws

Goodnight Sherlock, Goodnight John

 Oct 12 2024

A match made in heaven, thanks to the generosity of @totallysilvergirl and all of the other amazing writers and artists (like @khorazir @chained-to-the-mirror and @bluebellofbakerstreet, featured above) who contributed to this project.

Sep 8 2024

Sherlock and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week

John is away. Sherlock is NOT pleased.

Written by @chriscalledmesweetie and recorded by @juuls for the @pod-together challenge. You can both read and listen at the link above.

Feb 15 2024

But It’s a Ten, John!

“Don’t you dare respond to that text.”

“It’s Lestrade.”

“It could be the queen for all I care. Don’t respond.”

“It might be a case.”

“It could be a hundred cases. Don’t even look at your phone.”

“It’s a locked room triple homicide!”

“I told you not to look. Put the phone down.”

“But it’s a ten, John!”

“I don’t care if it’s an eleven. Drop the phone.”

“The scale only goes up to ten.”

“Sherlock, I am not going to ask you again. Drop the phone or I’m pulling out.”

“Fine. But this fuck had better be a ten.”

Dec 12 2024

Sherlock’s Ugly Christmas Apparel Series

Seven Days of Ugly Christmas Apparel by ChrisCalledMeSweetie How much ugly Christmas apparel can John convince Sherlock to don? With the right incentive, quite a bit…

[Cover Art] for Seven Days of Ugly Christmas Apparel by JL4art (IamJohnLocked4life) [NSFW]

[PODFIC] Seven Days of Ugly Christmas Apparel by Lockedinjohnlock (Podfixx)

The British Government’s New Clothes by ChrisCalledMeSweetie Mycroft Holmes wouldn’t be caught dead in an ugly Christmas jumper.

The Elves and the Brew-Maker by ChrisCalledMeSweetie Mrs. Hudson is determined to bring Sherlock and John together - with a little help from some ugly Christmas jumpers and a wee bit of magic.

Podfic: ‘The Elves and the Brew-Maker’ by ChrisCalledMeSweetie by peasina

Dec 14 2024

When Sherlock first made a proposal Alas, it was not for betrothal He asked John to shoot His brother, to boot Then help with the body’s disposal

You can find all 31 of my Holly Jolly Johnlock Limericks on AO3.

Thanks to @notjustamumj for the December 2024 prompts and to @ghostofnuggetspast and @friday411 for their own delightfully inspiring limericks.

Sep 22 2024

The Murder of Major Sayer by ChrisCalledMeSweetie

Do you want to know what really happened during the fateful week when John Watson first met Sherlock Holmes? John’s sister Harry is here to set the record straight—or not, as the case may be.

Chapter 13:  Secrets Revealed to Sherlock Holmes

I suppose we each have our own priorities when it comes to the secrets we choose to keep. Some people conceal the truth to avoid heartbreak, others to avoid scandal, and still others to avoid prosecution. There may also be times when the fear of one of those evils—for ourselves or our loved ones—may drive us to reveal something we would otherwise have kept hidden.

Many thanks to @bluebellofbakerstreet for the amazing cover art!

Nov 1 2024

Pitter Pat by ChrisCalledMeSweetie

Is the flutter in John’s heart atrial fibrillation? Or could there be another cause?

Created by TumblrTop10

[cblgblog]

Hey. so that AU where Lilia Calderu is trying to ignore the world and do her thing in quiet in the early 2000s when her past and future self keep showing up to yell at her until she blinks and finds herself on the streets of Sokovia staring down two small recently orphaned and now homeless children, one of whom has the most terrifying magical aura about her. Or the Maximoff twins, raised by Lilia, and oh how they'd annoy the Avengers.

Oh my God, the chaos though. So much chaos.

Orphaned children who do not know who this random crazy woman is, and why should we go with you? Lilia who’s like, because I’m sick of talking to myself about you, that’s why. But also magics up some decent, warm clothes for them, some food. And hey, you’re welcome to stay in this Sokovian orphanage that looks like the most Dickensian, stereotypically bad orphanage I’ve ever seen, and I’ve lived a really long time.

Wanda and Pietro who think for awhile that Lilia must’ve been in some kind of explosion too. At least something that caused a head injury. Because they’ll be having a perfectly reasonable conversation—by Lilia standards—and then Lilia will just blurt out these random things that make no sense. They’re honestly kinda terrified she’s an escaped mental patient, especially when she starts going on about how Wanda’s a witch with all this untapped power.

“Like on Bewitched?” Because of course that’s where Wanda takes it.

And, mistake, because then there’s this 20 minute rant about how offensive and demeaning and stereotypical that show is, that the kids are just staring at wide-eyed, hoping Lilia interrupts herself with one of her random bits of gibberish. Alas, no dice that day, so they have to suffer her entire spiel about how terrible that show is, which just leaves Wanda deeply offended because shut up, she likes that show.

Pietro just, I don’t like it either, I told her it was stupid. Which gets him a “Good boy,” and a pat on the head from Lilia, not unlike what you’d give a dog.

Twins who think she’s absolutely lost it with this witch stuff, okay, okay, clearly Lilia has some weird ass hidden talents, but Wanda sure doesn’t. Until Lilia coaches Wanda into reading her mind, just a little bit, and oh, okay well, this is new. Wanda who immediately wants to learn more of that please, but no, nope, we’re starting out small, kiddo, you don’t need to be reading your brother’s mind.

Wanda asserts that there’s no trouble there, Pietro’s head is totally empty after all, and then Lilia’s refereeing a bickering match between 10-year-olds and just, sigh.

Lilia telling people that these are her poor, oh so tragically orphaned niece and nephew, and threatening to hex Pietro when he says grandchildren might be more convincing. She also totally uses them in her act, for cuteness and sympathy, oh how about a reading so I can feed my poor little orphan niece and nephews? Did I mention they were orphans?

Pietro grumbling about the unfairness of why Wanda gets cool witch powers and he doesn’t. They’re twins after all; shouldn’t he be a wizard or something? Wanda who lords her new skills over him at first, haha, look what I can do, then realizes that 1, it actually does make him feel bad, and 2—more importantly—he’s gonna be really boring to play with and unable to keep up with her if she doesn’t throw him some sort of bone.

Lilia comes down to breakfast one morning and suddenly Pietro has speedster powers, because of course he does, sigh. Well, that was nice of you, Wanda, sharing is caring, but also never do that again. Partly because it’s incredibly reckless and dangerous, mostly because it’ll now make my life even more complicated.

Lilia meeting up with a fellow witch for something, someone who clocks what Wanda is, or has the potential to be, and just, you have the most powerful magical being in the universe, someone who might be on track to destroy the world, you have this kid hanging out with you in your dumpy little shop shuffling tarot cards?

Lilia’s offense at that, I have a scared, orphaned child with me, who yeah might destroy the world, jury’s still out on that, but who is much, much more likely to do so if she’s running around with all this power and no training. Also, my shop is not dumpy, shut the fuck up.

Kids who are utterly thrilled when Tony Stark is missing and presumed dead, and look at Lilia with complete disgust when she has one of her walkabout moments and tells them Stark isn’t actually dead, he’s gonna come back and be a superhero and they’re gonna help save his life soonish. Twins just, no, absolutely not, thanks but no thanks, mom, we refuse, take away our allowance if you must but no.

And then stuff happens and they end up in New York where all these aliens are causing trouble and they wind up stopping Tony from having to fly into space with the nuke—he still makes the sacrifice play, he still tries to do the right thing, he just gets his play interrupted by a girl in a Hot Topic getup who’s really good at stopping missiles from going off, huh, who knew, where’d she learn that? Which stops Tony from having his Thanos visions and embarking on his descent into paranoia and ‘I must save the whole world by myself even though I literally just joined a team of really powerful co-workers who’s whole thing is helping each other save the world.’ Which ultimately stops the Civil War from going like it did, which in turn means the Avengers are whole and united when Thanos comes to Earth, and are able to stop him. Which stops the Snap, which stops Endgame, which means Tony doesn’t die.

So, Lilia is once again always right, much to the annoyance of the twins who really weren’t that interested in saving Tony’s life but eh, whatever, pluses and minuses to everything.

Also, Stephen Strange showing up at Lilia’s door at some point to discuss the twins because Lilia just, yeah, yeah, Sorcerer Supreme, whatever, such an ego, no, you’re not just whisking my kid off to your little health spa in Tibet, yeah, no, that’s not happening.  If you do, you're gonna have to take him with you, they're a package deal, yes even if he doesn't have magic.

Strange meeting Pietro and just, yeah, maybe I don't actually wanna do this after all, maybe we can discuss some kind of alternate arrangement for continuing her training.

[centrally-unplanned]

I'm curious, how do you feel about harem tropes in anime and vns as a straight (for now, we will get you one day!!!) poly dude? Does the "genre" hold any appeal to you, and are there any standouts you would point to to say "yeah they really nailed what I like here"?

Look someone has to be a straight guy on here, affirmative action to ensure we get a diverse community! Overall I think they are fine as a concept - essentially harem is too "basic" to have like any one opinion on it, right? It can take on a million different forms, some will work and some don't.

For me most of the time they don't work, primarily because the typical deployment is in some weird asexual abeyance state where the protagonist has a dozen girls who are into him but they never cross the threshold. It is essentially a piece of media with no progression that substitutes in lateral quantity of girls for interesting narrative. Even this can work though, if the work is a sufficiently silly or weird sex comedy - those don't need any progression, right, the fun is in the jokes. The key for me is to make the lack of progression actually part of the humor. Few land this honestly, but while I am cheating because here the MC *does* date all the girls, The 100 Girlfriends Who Really Really Love You is a good example - he has to date all the girls or THEY DIE because God fucked up their destinies. Totally stupid, great premise for a comedy. Or My Next Life as a Villainess, where the heroine is isekai'd into an otome is obsessed with not being murdered like in the game, so fails to realize that she has dodged that bullet so successfully everyone wants to bone her (that show isn't good for its own reasons alas).

The other path is the "ancillary" harem, where the story has some other primary plot going on, fantasy wizard war or w/e, but the main character also has 4 hotties in the crew who are in various degrees of thirst over him. Normally still dumb ofc but this is less offensive because it isn't the main story, so it can have more logic. Additionally, you can use their role in the main story to make them cool/attractive, such that you have more investment with them. "I want to date you" is not a great pitch for why someone would want to date you, after all. Still, it is all better if you get like Mushoku Tensei and actually date them, since then you can have very interesting multiple-relationship arcs that intersect the main story. At the rare peaks this is authentically great, and never seen in TV outside of anime.

Visual Novels, funnily enough, are not that commonly harem! Because of split-routes you set up the harem "premise" at the beginning, but then you "choose a route" and the other girls fade away and it becomes a mono romance. Obviously they do exist, but VNs just typically have other genre conventions - and the ones that do exist I just tend to have not played. Maybe some out there do cool harem stuff! I am open to recs.

Being poly honestly effects this very little, because most harem anime just isn't poly. It is too far divorced from any level of "poly rep" for my own life experiences or w/e to come up beyond the occasional joke. Which makes sense - the audience isn't poly! Very similar to how the average yaoi is made for women, not gay men. And just like gay men enjoying yaoi, I can still enjoy a good harem even if it isn't For Me in that way.

[starsofarda]

Ok, I am following after this brainrot.

Have a ficlet - it's probably what I am gonna do about this whole thing, unfortunately it's the time where I don't have many energies.

And yes, I know that I have other things, but again, low energy. ADHD is being a bitch to me.

I hope you will enjoy my offer <3

PS: I know, language barriers, pls do not ask me to write in actual Elvish. Here's a small legendarium for different languages:

Normal font: Westron

Typed: Legolas specifically with his horrendous Sylvan dialect

Italic: Sindarin

Bold: Khuzdul (underlined if ANCIENT Khuzdul)

Cursive: Quenya

At first it felt like a light trickling of dust and pebbles over him - he didn't bother opening his eyes yet.

He was still grappling with the fact that he was breathing again and that he was not in the peaceful Halls of Mandos anymore.

And then he heard drums.

Drums and hurried footsteps and the skittering of orcs - no, not orcs, goblins.

That was when he decided to open his eyes and free himself from the wall he had been apparently staying.

It took him a short while to get back some of his movement, enough to start walking towards the source of that noise, hoping that once he got there he would have enough strength to just give a hand to whoever was in there - no pun intended, he thought, as he slowly directed himself whilst leaning against the stony walls.

It seemed that he was in a mine - a Dwarven mine, to be exact.

That was when he heard it - the horrible noise of a Balrog - and he knew those fiendish creatures quite well.

He needed to hurry, whoever was in there did not deserve to face any Balrogs of Morgoth.

It took a while for him to catch up.

When he finally did arrive, he was just in time to see as what looked like a Wizard was facing off with the Balrog.

The Wizard was speaking a language unknown to him.

"You cannot pass! I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass!"

Alas he was way too far yet, as he hurried as best he could towards the group - he could see a Dwarf, an Elf, two men and four halflings - or children, he really could not distinguish them in such darkness.

As the Wizard was caught by the whip of the Balrog and shouted "Fly, you fools!", he jumped straight next to one of the men, helping him hold the little ones.

Aragorn suddenly saw the presence of probably the tallest Elf he had ever met and with fiery red hair - something he himself had never seen. "What?!" He exclaimed confused.

The red haired Elf just shook his head.

"Let's talk later, once we are out of here."

Aragorn nodded and lead the Fellowship out of Moria, as per plans. There would be time to grieve later on.

Once outside the situation looked grim. The Hobbits were stricken by grief, the Fellowship was lost, and on top of that not onl was Gandalf dead at the hands of a Balrog, but they acquired one more Elf - and what kind of Elf.

Tall, fiery red hair, missing right hand and scarred left hand. Aragorn talked to him.

"We will talk once we are out of orcs' sight."

"Fine by me, Elros."

"... My name is Aragorn. I think you have me confused."

"Oh, sorry. My name is Nelyo."

Aragorn definitely had heard that name before, although he could not pinpoint exactly when, or where. Somehow he was thinking of Elrond, but he would know for certain if Elrond had mentioned that name. In any case, that definitely wasn't the time to linger on issues and thoughts - he would have time to do so once the Fellowship reached Lothlorien.

"Boromir, get the Hobbits up, we need to go!"

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"

"By nighttime this place will be crawling with orcs."

Legolas was looking uneasy, something Aragorn picked up immediately. "Yes, we are taking the Elf with us."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Aragorn."

The man stopped. "And why not? He helped us."

"He is a kinslayer."

"As far as I am concerned, this one just came out of the rocks of Moria, if anything I will let the lady of the Galadhrim decide."

Nelyo understood only about half of the conversation - damn, the language did evolve a lot during the time he was in Mandos. He would have to ask someone what had happened in the meantime, but for the moment he stood upand wobbled a little towards two of the halflings, gently patting them and signaling themm it was time to go.

The two latched onto him, as the rest followed the man who introduced himself

By the time they stopped by the river Nimrodel, they finally shifted the attention to "Nelyo", as Aragorn had relayed his name to the rest of the Fellowship.

In the meantime Nelyo had understood that probably speaking Sindarin instead of Quenya would be a better shot. It was Aragorn, once again, that talked to him.

"We are about to enter Lady Galadriel's realm. We are on a secret errand. What can you tell us?"

Nelyo considered his options. Also, the fact that Galadriel had been mentioned meant a 99% of certain death - that would suck, but at least he'd say sorry.

"I think it's probably easier if I speak Sindarin."

"Indeed."

Nelyo braced himself. "My Sinda name is Maedhros. I died... Well, I am not sure, but I died. Somehow I was re-embodied here."

Now, Aragorn definitely had heard the name "Maedhros".

"That's why Legolas here said that you were a kinslayer." He pointed at the blond Elf next to him.

"Indeed. It is probably not a good idea making me go anywhere near Galadriel."

"Agreed." Legolas interjected. "My father and grandfather have told me about ancient Doriath."

Now things started to click for Aragorn. Boromir was looking at everyone with eyes wide open - as much as he understood Sindarin, he was nowhere near fluent, so he would need to ask about the ordeal later on, swallowing at least a bit of his pride.

Maedhros sighed. "I will take my punishment whatever that will be."

That kind of settled things down.

At that point Sam interjected. "Hey, Mr. Nelyo did help us and has been nothing but mindful! Why are you all being mean?!"

"I am afraid, Master Gamgee, that the issue runs deeper than ever. But it is indeed true, maybe the Lady of the Galadhrim will be merciful, given the more pressing matters."

Maedhros was tired, however. Whatever would be his destiny, at least he'd get to see the stars once more - so he thought as Legolas seemed to tell a story and sing.

He kind of went back memory lane, when Maglor used to sing, now only just a memory.

The halflings suddenly latched onto him once again. "See, Merry? Mr. Nelyo Elf was feeling grief too, that's not hard to see!"

"He doesn't look as scary now, Pippin!"

"I never said he was!"

And Maedhros was not understanding a single word of that language, but he surely understood warmth. These halflings truly were like children to him. He made a half smile.

"See? He smiled! Frodo, Sam, he smiled!"

Boromir intervened. "Yes, and now we are all very tired. And orcs are still about. Leave him be.

That pretty much concluded the night. Every problem that still lingered would be resolved by morning.

[nights-nonsensical-ramblings]

Damn it im trying to start a ramble but i cant really form anything much. (later note here, i managed it. I am so sorry for anyone thats come across this in the tags (they're there for my organisation), ive kinda made it a mess to put on any blog cuz of all the contradicting stuff) Like i've got "mmm i like Knuckles, he's best boy". But it feels like any headcanons or au ideas i could talk about are out of reach on my own. Again its like a fog, i know they're there but i just cant reach them. Subnautica 2 got a trailer and again its like i cant grab any thoughts on it. Like I love subnautica, never actually finished it, but i adore this game, its vibes its world the creatures

hmmm I just finished binge watching every single episode of Viva la Dirt League's bored series, did that over the last few days, saw its evolution and how stunningly high the production value got, how certain jokes were more/less common than i thought.

You know there's actually a reference to Baelin from their epic npc man series in one of my fics. In chapter 16 of 'No child should have to inherit a war' i have big say “morning, it’s a nice day for fishing, isn’t it?" a pretty close match to Baelin's "Morning! Nice day for fishing ain't it? Hua hah!" Alas no one ever got the reference. Okay, i got some Knuckles thoughts. Like in a generic fantasy rpg style world it would be so easy to put knux in a fighter/warrior/brawler type class. He likes to hit hard and get up in the heat of the fight. But i adore his more quiet moments so much. He likes to help out the animals of his islands, he's a protector who cares so much and is always jumping to help strangers, enemies and friends alike. (even if he still tries to play the stoic role) But what would be absolutely hilarious in my opinion is if he was an incredibly powerful sorcerer/mage/wizard. (in reference to how powerful he is due to the m.e connection) and he's hyped up as this powerful and dangerous magic user,

only for him to punch you in the face when you go to fight him.

Oh he'll use his magic (and m.e powers in canon also apply here) to look after the place he protects, but he's not a fan of using it in combat. Both cuz its not his style, he prefers a direct, get it done style and cuz he feels its not his place that his power is not to be used in an offensive manor.

and throw in some healing powers of course cuz i will forever love Knuckles as a healer who will tell you off for being stupid and will huff and deny he's worried. (Platonic tsunderes hold a place in my heart)

Cuz yeah, caring is a major part of who knuckles is.

And back to bored, cuz Knuckles being the type to care reminds me of Rowan (the character) being such an opposite and a terrible boss. Cuz man Ben and Rowan and SO good at playing hateable characters. Like Bens character in Bored is the culmination of all the most frustrating and OUTRAGEOUS customers. He does such a good job that i get excited when he plays a less punch able character.

Like Charles, sure he's a mugger, but he's literally just following his programming. But he's also one of the npcs whos kinda able to break out of it. (but is very easily reset).

hmmm the string of thought is kinda knotting up a bit. Like i got a little more about subnautica and how i really wanted to do a thing about Knuckles bonding with the sea emperor leviathan over being the last, but idk how to write the sea emperor so it hasn't really gotten anywhere. hmmm now what... I definitely want to keep rambling (its working and i feel better) but idk what to say now.

[yansurnummu]

oh shit I guess we're doing pinned posts now

hi I'm Rory/Yans and I don't know what video games are

AO3 // Pillowfort (18+)

Gardening & woodworking sideblog: @garryoakenthusiast

Discord: yansurnummu

ESO: hentus-yansurnummu (PC-NA), yansurnummu (Xbox)

I mostly post about Elder Scrolls with a focus on ESO but sometimes throw in other stuff for flavour. This usually includes Critical Role, Baldur's Gate, Destiny, cool art I like, and probably others once in a while. I occasionally post nsfw art & fic that will be tagged #yans after dark.

Tags:

my art

my writing

music recs

Fic Archive:

ESO:

To the Horrors I've Known and Loved (2023 - Ongoing)

Like Winter (2022 - Ongoing)

A Variation of the Truth (Completed; 2022)

Oblivion:

The Blood of the Coven (Completed; 2016)

Destiny 2:

Destiny Oneshots Collection (2018 - 2021)

My ESO OCs:

Dralvayn "Drals" Arano (he/him)

Dunmer // Arcanist

My cranky old wizard. To the Horrors I've Known and Loved is his story, where he gets put through the horrors and learns the power of friendship.

He's gay/demisexual but he doesn't discover that until partway through the fic, and even then he has a ways to go before he allows himself nice things. He becomes hopelessly in love with Azandar, and later on has a bit of a thing with Zerith-var. He starts out kind of an asshole but he will get better. Probably. He's my little chew toy :)

(tag)

Asha-ammu Kaushad (they/them)

Dunmer (Ashlander) // Nightblade // Vampire

Asha is my precious little princess who I would die for. Like Winter is sort of a character study, following the progression of their relationship with Donobhan, and told from his point of view.

They're nonbinary & transfem, and very shy and a little awkward. They love fungi & dwemer architecture.

(tag)

Donobhan Ravenfriend (he/him)

Reachman // Warden

Don is my sweet boy. He was originally of the Spiritblood clan but left when he couldn't go through with the Vateshran's Rites. He loves nature and has a lot of wisdom about the ways of the world & life & death but is also kind of an orange cat and sometimes his head is empty. His best friend is his guardian wolf, Calahan.

(tag)

Sadryn Favel (he/him?)

Dunmer // Warden // Werewolf

Sadryn is a hot bisexual mess whose favourite pastime is being a public nuisance. He's like 22 and will never die. He has a twin sister, Serysi, who belongs to @tilliphont. She's a grumpy butch and the two of them would die for each other but will probably kill each other first before that happens. The two of them were born to a Telvanni family that expected a lot from them and they ran away from that bad situation at some point. They also have a pet bear named Sujamma.

If he stopped for longer than 2 seconds to look inwards he would probably have a weird gender but alas he is going 5000mph and has a substance abuse problem so we may never know. He's got a big ol crush on Ember but she thinks he's stinky.

(tag)

Auredil (he/him)

Altmer // Templar // Vestige

Auredil is my canon Vestige and gay disaster. A Variation of the Truth is sort of a tragedy that alternates between his point of view (past) and Lindir's point of view (present). Auredil was once a captain in Queen Ayrenn's navy (First Auridon Marines) where he fell in love with Prince Naemon and he and Kinlady Estre became good friends. After the events of Auridon, Naemon shuts Auredil out which drives him to make a pact with Meridia while in a bad mental state, thus being granted his Templar abilities and the rest of the main quest being set in motion.

(tag)

Lilanwe (she/her)

Altmer // Necromancer

Lily is trans & bisexual and could be a villain if she was just like 12% more evil. But instead she chose to be niceys and is just kind of a little morally dubious sometimes.

She was once a promising mage and scholar who, after her brother Auredil's disappearance, fell in with the wrong crowd and turned to necromancy and the Worm Cult. They meet again on opposite sides of the conflict, and Auredil convinces her to leave the cult behind and help him fix everything. She has a penchant for being headstrong and righteous, and after the Planemeld and Auredil's (supposed) death, she goes on a revenge quest to eradicate the remains of the Worm Cult. As a treat.

(tag)

Coralantar (he/they)

Maormer // Sorcerer

Coral was a powerful storm witch who joined up with the Sea Vipers when he was young and wanted to get away from Pyandonea, but quickly recognised the atrocities the raiders were committing. After meeting Auredil in Khenarthi's Roost, he turns on the Vipers from the shadows and eventually works with the Eyes of the Queen as a spy. The Desert is a Memory of the Ocean is sort of an unfinished sequel/spinoff of Auredil's fic, in which Coralantar and @tilliphont's Galen find themselves lost in Elsweyr in the aftermath of defeating Molag Bal and have to work together to piece together what happened.

(tag)

[eggymf-archived]

of paper planes and wildflowers; 01

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, chaotically embarrassing situations,  mild dubcon, aphrodisiac, feeble attempt at ominis slander for plot(?) purposes, not proofread, unedited

chapter summary:  from teenage gossips to formulating random drinks together with your best friend, everything goes completely awry in the most unexpectedly worst way possible. 

word count: 4k

a/n: i wrote this during 1 am in the morning after a mental breakdown lmao what’s good D:

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

“That’s the seventh time you sighed in the last five minutes.”

You grumbled in response at Natsai’s observation, dropping your forehead flat on the table with a distinct thud, much to Madam Scribner’s chagrin who harshly shushed you with a matching glare. Natsai gave the said librarian an apologetic look before turning towards you again with concern.

"Probably ‘cause of her mum again, I reckon,” Garreth piped, flipping his book to the next page as he scribbled down on his rolled-out parchment. You shuddered in response, recalling that damned Howler you received from your mother prior this week when she found out you had landed yourself in detention with Garreth again. Your mother expected great academic success from you and for you to behave yourself, especially during this year when you’ll be taking your OWLs.

“I’m sure you’ll do great for your OWLs. Despite the trouble you get yourself into, you always excel in your studies anyway,” Natsai comforted, rubbing your shoulder as you let out yet another sigh. Yes, you were having problems with your mum’s incessant reminder of picking a career path, and yes, you were tremendously feeling pressured about acing your OWLs. But there was another problem:  a huge one in fact - so huge you couldn’t even tell your two close friends about it. 

“I’ll be fine, you two. I just have a lot in my mind lately,” you mumbled, laying your cheek flat on the surface of the table while staring at an empty table from the distance. 

“I’d say. You’ve been on the edge eversince that potions incident,” Garreth pointed out, earning a fairly loud snort from you.

“Which potions incident, Garreth? Last time I checked, you’ve had a total of three incidents this month,” you teased.

“Oh shush. It wasn’t that bad!” the ginger-haired Gryffindor laughed. “I’m talking about that one drink we concocted around two to three weeks ago. The one that you drank?”

Your cheeks slightly pinked at the memory: of course you remember that incident. It was the main reason that has caused you to get stuck in this infernal situation, after all.

“Pretty sure it's not the potion, Garreth. I’m assuming this is just my academic stress finally getting to me,” you dismissively reasoned, thus dropping the subject to concentrate on each of your respective tasks.

You half-expected your 5th year to be like the usual: focusing on your studies, literally brewing mischief and greatness with Garreth, sneaking out of the castle grounds to “practice” your duelling (extracurricular activities, as you’d like to call it) with Natsai occasionally tagging along, and so much more. Aside from the utter chaos that was presently occurring within the wizarding world, who would’ve thought that your life would also end up being in a state of frenzy. 

You shouldn’t have had that particular conversation with Garreth back then. You shouldn’t have drank that damned potion either. But in your defense, you wouldn’t have tried anything weird from the ginger-haired boy unless you actually helped him with the concoction. You’re pretty well-versed with various ingredients, priding yourself to be both book smart and pro-active in collecting various ingredients from the highlands yourself. But alas you were still a student - a silly little student making silly little mistakes. Somewhere along the process of making that certain concoction, you had messed up the calculations of the ingredients’ ratio - something that would prove to be rather grave on your part. 

You and Garreth were hanging out together at the Transfiguration Courtyard after class, the both of you discussing several ingredient combinations as usual. While he scribbled notes on a piece of parchment during the ongoing conversation, you were practicing non-verbal spellcasting for simple charms. However, the conversation took a different turn when you noticed Garreth’s voice slowly faltering as a certain housemate of yours passed by while carrying several thick books. You smirked in realization, calling out the ebony-haired female. Garreth elbowed you harshly, giving you a half-hearted glare. The female turned and smiled towards the both of you in acknowledgment before heading off.

“Blimey, Garreth. Samantha Dale?” you asked, causing him to flush bright pink. “Since when?”

“Last year during potions. That time when Sharp made her switch places with you,” he admitted, causing you to teasingly snicker.

“W-what? It’s not like you haven’t had a crush!” he sputtered.

“I hate to disappoint you but no, I haven’t,” you deadpanned.

“Tell you what, let me ask you this question instead. If you were given the choice, who would you snog in our year?”

“Garreth Weasley, I am NOT answering that!”

“I’ll get the answers right out of you whether you like it or not and you know it. Is it Amit?”

“No.”

“Is it me?”

You slapped his arm in response, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll take that as a no. Leander?”

“I’d rather get kissed by a dementor.”

“Touché. Perhaps Sebastian?” 

“Have you seen how he looks at the new 5th year? Poor lad looks like a lovesick crup puppy it makes me sick.”

Garreth paused, deep in thought. His lips curled into a smug grin.

Oh no. This isn’t good. 

“Ominis Gaunt?”

A pregnant silence ensued, your expression utterly mortified. Garreth guffawed at your bewildered state, running away from you as you chased him down. Your face was a bright shade of red - whether it is out of embarrassment, denial, realization, or the fact that you were greatly offended by the mere suggestion, Garreth has already arrived to his own conclusion. He was absolutely never going to live this down. After all, you were normally straightforward especially when it came to your preferences: your hesitation was already an obvious sign to the answer.

Tomfoolery aside, Garreth knew you didn’t really like Ominis. To you, Ominis was a sardonic little gossip. Whenever something of note had occurred and anyone involved passes by, he would often quip about their little secrets or actions alongside his unsolicited opinions. His reputation as a Gaunt also played a part as to why you steered clear of him as much as possible: they were proud, volatile, discriminatory, and has a long history with dark magic.

Everyone in Hogwarts always say that it was impossible for secrets to be kept within the castle walls. If the castle walls have ears, then one of those set of ears most likely belonged to Ominis himself. Unfortunately, that would prove to be a correct statement for your particular little case: a certain male with a particularly strong sense of hearing might’ve picked up on your conversation with Garreth earlier.

“Are you sure about this?” Garreth asked as you grabbed the phial from the potions table. “You don’t need to be the test subject, you know? We could just get other people to try it out.”

The concoction that you’ve been working on together with Garreth now rests in your hand. The both of you haven’t named it yet, but it was supposed to stimulate the mind to focus better and to give its drinker an energy boost. Given how stressed you are with your academic subjects and the fact that you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown, you didn’t really care as long as the potion did something to improve your performance.

“It’s the weekend tomorrow, Garreth. If this goes wrong, I have two days tops to get better. I doubt I’ll even need to go to the hospital wing though,” you reassured, taking a sip. The liquid was fizzy, tasted like sherbet lemons, and it brought a pleasant little buzz at the back of your head after a while. Garreth stared at you expectantly.

“Well...?”

“Hmm. So far, so good. We’ll see what happens for the rest of the day,” you said.

“Grand. I’ll see you later then!”

You and Garreth headed off to your own respective classes. You headed off to the Transfiguration Classroom, feeling increasingly invigorated as the potion took its effect bit by bit. You were rather proud of the concoction you and Garreth had made. It felt as if you chugged a vial of Felix Felicis - nothing would ever go wrong for the day and luck was definitely on your side. 

“Hopefully this little boost lasts until I’m done with all my assignments,” you mumbled to yourself as you entered the Transfiguration Classroom, sitting at one of the vacant desks. Your classmates began to pour in, occupying the remaining seats while you flipped through the pages of your textbook, mulling over the possible lesson for today. Right as Professor Weasley left her office to enter the classroom, the classroom doors barged open revealing the flushed faces Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt.

“Ah, you two are just in time. Please take your seats,” Professor Weasley said. The two panting boys complied, heading to the remaining vacant seats, which was the one right beside you and the other was beside Cressida Blume. The opal-eyed male opted to occupy the one beside you, much to your hidden distress. You were thankful that you didn’t have Garreth as a classmate here - it would’ve been a nightmare seeing his smug little grin and him occasionally making kissy faces to mock the remaining patience right out of your entire being. 

Thankfully, the class was rather uneventful aside from a brief lecture and all of you trying out the Vanishing Spell on several objects. You kept stealing not-so-secret glances at the boy beside you as he made his own attempts, flawlessly executing the spells within a few tries. As much as you hated to admit it, the Gaunts truly did have their own unique allure. Ominis was one of the living proofs - he looked quite elegant and easy on the eyes compared to most of the guys in your year: milky blue eyes, alabaster skin, beauty marks, and dirty blonde hair that was always neatly-styled. He was someone that people would most likely stare at out of admiration.

“You know I can feel you staring at me, right?”

Until he opens his mouth, that is.

“Hmm? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you deadpanned, causing his lips to curl into a knowing smirk. You didn’t like that a single bit, and you wanted this class to end so that you could go about your merry little way avoiding the Gaunt as you always did.

“...On that note, I’ll be assigning you all into pairs. Your partners for this assignment are your current seatmates: I’ll be expecting a 6-inch essay compilation of the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell by next week. Class dismissed.”

Your face fell.

“Is there something the matter?” Professor Weasley asked, noticing your rather upfront reaction. You shook your head vehemently, earning a couple of snorts and giggles from your classmates. You quickly shut your textbook and got up.

“Catch you around. Try compose yourself the next time we sit together, won’t you?” Ominis mocked jokingly as he left. You pointedly stared at his retreating back, silently quelling your mild annoyance.

For the most part, you stayed out of trouble for the entire day, focusing on your assignments and catching up on advanced self-studying. The drink proved to be quite a success so far - it was nearly as effective as an Invigorating Draught, and it helped you sort out the tricky bits from your assignments without contemplating on it way too much. You’ve been holed up in the library eversince your last period, and you still felt quite energetic. The library was getting more and more empty, with students opting to go to the Great Hall for their dinners or back to their common rooms. Meanwhile you just got out of the Transfiguration Section after getting the necessary reference books for that blasted compiled essay due next week. 

Suddenly, you felt your head throb, causing you to drop the books rather unceremoniously on the table. Good thing Madam Scribner wasn’t nearby or she would’ve chided you for not handling school property with care. You uncapped the phial of the concoction, chugging the last remaining contents. Perhaps the effect was lessening hence the sudden dizzying headache.

Oh but you were dead wrong. It got worse.

You felt your body heat up uncomfortably as your senses began to get more heightened - your breathing is now labored, your clothes felt unbelievably scratchy against your skin, and you felt that oh so familiar sinful tingling in between your legs. Panicked, you glanced around the library, seeing if there’s anyone nearby. You clenched your legs shut almost painfully, trying to steady your erratic breathing and heartbeat.

“Alright, self. Calm down. As long as nobody sees you like this--”

You were snapped out of your inner monologue with an oh-so-familiar posh-toned voice jolting you back into reality.

“Thought I might find you here. About that assignment...”

You inwardly screamed in sheer horror and embarrassment, cursing the bad luck that had befallen your poor self. Ominis sat right beside you, blissfully unaware of your current predicament. You couldn’t even comprehend what the male was saying to you: you were gripping your skirt tightly and biting your lower lips all in a great effort to suppress anything that might be a dead giveaway to your situation. Ominis, however, was a lot more astute than you expected. His eyebrows furrowed, immediately sensing that something was up.

“Why are you holding your breath?”

Fuck.

“O-oh. Uh... I-I was? W-well I-”

“What’s going on with you?” Ominis asked rather harshly. You gulped, trying your best to keep the last bits of sanity in your brain intact. According to your nether regions, Ominis sounded absolutely ravishing when he talks like that, and the remaining rationality within your mind refuses to accept that depraved notion. 

You almost moaned out loud when he touched your forehead with the back of his hand. He, however, wasn’t looking too amused with how unusual you were acting. Ominis frowned, looking rather offended for getting him caught up in this awkward situation. He got up, getting ready to leave.

“W-wait!” you cried out, tugging at the sleeve of his robes while looking at him with pleading eyes. “P-please help me...”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk gracing his lips at your begging tone. He turned back towards you, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh? And why should I do that?” he sneered.

“Please I... I think I might’ve ingested an a-ah...!” 

“A what?”

“...Aphrodisiac...” you breathed out, shameful tears welling up in your eyes.

Ominis was mortified, a dark shade of pink flushing his usually pale complexion. He cleared his throat while loosening up his necktie in an attempt to diffuse his bashfulness. An aphrodisiac problem was certainly the last thing he would’ve expected from you.

“So you want me to help you... Because you might’ve ingested an aphrodisiac?” he asked, still finding the situation beyond belief.

You sobbed in response, nodding furiously. You felt so utterly humiliated that you were actually on the verge of wailing on the spot. You couldn’t think straight, you were a mess down there, and you were trying your absolute best to get the situation in control. You didn’t want to go to the hospital wing, nor were you even planning to tell Garreth or Natsai about this unfortunate side effect. Your common room wasn’t an option too because it’s a shared dormitory and the Ravenclaw tower was simply too far. Hell, this was one of the worst situations you could ever find yourself in, and there was absolutely no way Ominis would agree to this madness. 

Honestly, you just wanted to stay in a more secluded place to wait for the effects to die out. However, you had no idea where to go and you were desperate enough to ask even Ominis himself.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when he stood up and leaned towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his misty blue eyes while his other hand rested on the table surface behind you to support his weight.

“Are you sure you want me to do it?” he breathed. You blushed at the question, your sobs slowly quieting down as you drank the sight of him under the cold moonlight peering from the arched windows.

He was so frustratingly beautiful. So fucking ethereal.

“... Y-yes,” you gulped shakily. “P-please.”

Wait. Do what? What’s fucking happening? What the fuck did I agree on?!

He hummed in response, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

“Hmm. Perhaps you do want to snog me after all,” he murmured before planting his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you instantly melted into the softness of his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted you from your seat, making you sit on the table. However, the both of you were interrupted by the sound of heels clacking on the wooden floor. You and Ominis quickly got up, hiding behind one of the nearby bookcases.

Madam Scribner came up to the table, frowning. She grabbed the now haphazardly-placed reference books from the table, tutting about how irresponsible students are with handling books before walking off. 

You and Ominis remained still, listening intently at Madam Scribner’s now dying footsteps. As soon as the exit door was opened and then shut close, Ominis captured your lips once again, pushing you towards the nearest table. The both of you were frantically scrambling, attempting to remove each other’s cloaks while remaining in a passionate lip lock. You sat on the table as soon as you felt the edge of the table top hit the back of your thigh, spreading your legs apart to pull Ominis much closer to you. 

For some odd reason, having Ominis Gaunt right in between your legs felt so fucking right. Your head spun with lustful desire, taking in his addicting scent: a faint combination of patchouli, sandalwood and spearmint candy. He gave one of your breasts a firm squeeze while his tongue intruded your mouth, to which you gladly received by lightly suckling on the wet appendage, earning a groan from him. Ominis ground his hips against yours instinctively, brushing his now visible erection against your still clothed privates. 

His lips then began trailing down from your lips to your jawline, latching itself on a sensitive spot at the crook of your neck. You mewled, teasingly trailing your feet along the back of his legs, finally locking your legs around his hips to further push himself harder against your heated core. His hands harshly gripped your ankles in response, your inner thighs quivering in anticipation as he deftly unclasped your Mary Janes. You kicked them off rather impatiently, slightly raising your hips up as Ominis reached underneath your skirt for the waistband of both your tights and knickers, slowly peeling the article of clothing off your legs.

“Bend over for me,” he growled against your ear, to which you happily complied as you leaned over the table while lifting your skirt up. You shuddered both in delight and relief as the cool air hit the skin of your warm lower regions. Ominis traced a finger on your exposed slit, groaning as globs of your honey-like essence coated his digit. 

“Merlin, you’re fucking soaked...” he moaned, inserting his finger inside your hole, earning a breathy gasp from you as your legs trembled in wanton delight. You felt your juices trickle down your legs as Ominis added another finger inside your core, pumping his digits in and out of you at an increasing speed. You whimpered, slapping your hand over your mouth at the brutality of his fingers. With how sensitive your body was, it wouldn’t take long until you had your sweet release. 

Much to your disappointment, Ominis retracted his fingers away from your heat, licking your juices off his fingers. He groaned at your sweet taste while you sobbed in frustration, swaying your rear as your legs trembled at the lack of stimulation. Ominis swiftly unbuttoned his pants, tugging on the waistband of his briefs to free his painfully erect shaft. You let out a surprised whimper upon feeling the blunt head of the thick appendage stroke itself against your weeping slit, lubricating itself before it dove right into your awaiting pussy with little to no resistance. Your back arched instinctively at the sudden intrusion as you gasped blissfully in sheer unadulterated pleasure.

“A-ah..! F-fuck yes! Mmph..!” you cried out. Ominis slapped a hand against your mouth while the other pinned one of your wrists against your lower back as he plowed his cock inside your pussy.  

“Best to keep it down, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want us to get caught now, do you?” he panted, thrusting deep and fast as you mindlessly moaned with absolutely no shame against his hand. He was right - there were enchanted portraits nearby, wandering ghosts, and prefects right outside the library after all. The thought of someone walking in at any minute made your walls clench, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the alabaster-skinned male as he relished in the spasms and flutters of your inner walls, his cock twitching in pleasure.

“Oh, you are absolutely vile!” he chuckled darkly, slowing himself down momentarily yet still thrusting as deep as he could. You swore your knees almost gave out as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. 

“You’re quite the filthy little whore, aren’t you? It’s almost as if you want to get caught,” he mocked as your knees shook. You sobbed pathetically with pleasure-filled tears running down your face. He yanked your upper body closer to his, letting his hands wander shamelessly on your curves while peppering the column of your neck with bites and kisses. You blissfully sighed, intoxicated with all the sensations happening on your body all at once. Your bleary eyes widened as his cock brushed against a spot within your weeping hole, your mouth hanging ajar in a loud gasp which caused Ominis to smirk against your neck. He slammed your body back on the table, your breasts flat against the table surface as he aimed for the spot precisely with swift, merciless strokes.

Ominis was absolutely delirious as he listened to the debauched symphony of your helplessly submissive little yelps and moans, wet skin slapping against each other, the sound of the table rocking against the hardwood floors, his own erratic breathing and occasional groans whenever he felt your walls flutter around his swollen member. This was now his new guilty pleasure: reducing his normally put-together, top-achieving, goody-two-shoes of a classmate into nothing but a slut who’s hungry for only his cock. Something about that mere thought completely disintegrates his last remaining shred of principles and rationality in the moment as he mindlessly chased his high, sinful fantasies filling his presently depraved, pussy-drunk mind.

“F-fuck! I... I’m cumming! I’m cumming-!” you babbled as your walls clenched unbelievably tight around his cock, causing Ominis to hiss in pleasure as he pulled out of your quivering hole, pumping his member desperately as spurts of milky white semen landed on your labia. The both of you stilled for a moment, breathless and completely fucked-out.

Ominis quickly tucked his now softening member back into his pants and tidied himself up while you shakily got up from the poor table. You groaned, feeling a slight pain in between your legs as you conjured a clean cloth with your wand, wiping away any stray bodily fluids from your lower regions before vanishing the object away. Ominis leaned against the opposite bookshelf as you put your panties and tights back on, crossing his arms. You glanced at him as you sat on the table, clasping your shoes back on. He was still as pristine as ever, as if your recent activities had never even happened.

“Prefects should be gone by now. Will you be alright going back to your common room alone?” he asked. 

“I think so,” you replied, grimacing slightly at the dull throb of your worn-out hole. Ominis hummed, walking towards the staircase leading to the library exit with his wand up, the tip blinking its signature red light.

“Oh, and Gaunt?” 

“Yes?”

“Nothing happened here, alright?”

chapter 2: what a mess! 🔞 >

[nightlyrayne]

Wrote this as a birthday gift to my good friend. Happy Birthday Hannah!!! Hope you like it 😁

______________________

It was a few weeks after Elminster announced to Gale that Mystra would consider forgiveness if he used the orb to destroy the Absolute. The hunger the orb craved for, put to temporary rest with the help of the Weave. Gale had asked Mavil to meet him, confessing to her his long standing feelings. Over the course of their time traveling together, he had fallen deeply in love with her. Mavil had been ecstatic. Having wanted for him for just as long.

Now she lay beside him, resting inside his tent as he reads. His voice soothing as it speaks on stories of ancient magic and adventures of wizards. A mage hand turning the pages so his own hand could continue combing through her hair soothingly.

What a wonderful way to spend the night. Listening to his voice. Forgetting the dangers and worries that threatened them (especially Gale) ahead. Her arms wrapped around his body, lifting to rest her head on his leg.

"There were those that warned me against straying from the river, but I was out searching for an adventure. And where better than the 'Fields of the Dead'? Living in Baldur's Gate, one hears much about this grand, grassy plain, but one never visits. And for a place with such a desolate name, it is positively teeming with life! Well... perhaps not teeming, but there are honest farmers to be found there, and a large number of ravens. Alas, I had no time to venture near the huge hills (or 'barrows' as the locals call them), but I am told that ancient artefacts are all but bursting out of the ground. A fine spot for a little relic hunting." Gale's soothing voice came to a subtle stop and she could feel him move ever so slightly.

Soon after, Mavil heard the soft 'thud' of the book closing. She opened her eyes to look up at him with a pout. "Why did you stop reading?"

The wizard chuckled warmly, his brown eyes glinting in the candle light. "You can hardly blame me. I had thought slumber had taken you away. Snuggled so comfy and breathing so soft. Shall I keep reading then? Or can I lay with you so we might both allow sleep to take us?"

Mavil hummed, pretending to think it over. "I suppose you can lay down too." She said teasingly. Earning another chuckle from the brunette.

Gale waited for Mavil to move off his lap before scooting down to lay beside her. His arms immediately embraced her, pulling her plush against him. His face nuzzling into her hair, careful to not knock into her horns.

"We will reach Moonrise towers tomorrow. I know your feelings on me using the orb. But I hope you understand, if I need to, I will use it. I want you to be safe. Even if it means my end." He whispered softly to her. She squeezed him tightly, a deep frown on her face as she buried herself against him.

"I don't care what you say. I won't let you. I just got you. We've just come together. I'm not letting you leave me. Not now, not ever."

Gale gazed down at her, confliction in his eyes. How sweet her words were. How deep they sunk into his very heart and soul. How they made him rethink things. He held her tighter, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you, for loving me. For you, perhaps I'll try."

[amethysts-tavern]

This is a pseudo-true story, of course not about Gale, but someone who I thought completely out of my league at the time. I really enjoyed remembering this night.

_____________________

#14: Use a song.

“When you think I've loved you all I can

I'm gonna love you a little bit more”

-A Little Bit More, Dr. Hook

Camp is quiet tonight. Many of your companions have retired early. Just a few of you remain around the fire chatting about this and that, just enjoying each other’s company. You find yourself next to Gale, which delights you more than you’re willing to let on. He’s regaling you with tales of his travels, books he’s read, his antics in school. You are rapt with attention, staring into his eyes as he speaks to you just above a whisper. His tales tonight are just for you. You turn your body to lean in and face him, unintentionally shutting out the rest of your companions.

You’re not even sure how it happened, but his hand is in yours. You feel the weight of it resting in your lap while you trace the lines of his palm as he talks. Every so often a small whimper or sigh escapes his lips as you gently dance your fingertips over his palm. Something about tonight is special, whether it’s the wine or the connection between you two, you’re not entirely sure. 

The closeness between you two tonight is new. You’d been harboring these feelings for him for a while, but had dared not mention it to anyone, not sure how he felt about you. After all, his last lover had been a literal goddess. But here you are tonight, closer than close, sharing intimate details about love, life, and happiness. 

He mentions one of your favorite books as you talk. You didn’t know that he had enjoyed that genre or had even read that particular book and in that moment your heart beats just a bit faster for the wizard. I think I might just love him a little bit more, if that was even possible, you say to yourself.

But the evening has to come to an end at some point. Your companions have already started making their way back to their tents, leaving you alone with Gale to say good night.

“I really enjoyed our time together tonight,” you say softly, not sure how to draw to a close an evening that you really didn’t want to end.

“Me too,” Gale replies, his lack of words a first for him.

You open your arms to him for an embrace. He steps into you, placing his hands around the small of your back and drawing you near. And you hold there for a blessed moment. If anyone had been around to see, they might have thought it a bit too long for two who were just friends. He turns his head, mumbling something into the crook of your neck. You feel his soft lips kiss the sensitive skin of your neck, the warmth of his breath giving you goosebumps. You can feel the bristles of his beard on your exposed skin. Your head spins and your breath catches. Your heart takes a deep dive into your stomach at this simple touch.  

But alas, he takes a step back, catching your hands in his to give you a long, intense look. “Sweet dreams,” he says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. And he starts a slow walk back to his tent. Just before he disappears into the folds of the canvas, he glances back at you and beams.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (I.4)

IV. Pumpkins, mischief, and trolls

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You were testing barriers

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, injuries in Quidditch

Wordcount: 2.6 k

Notes: Here we go again muahaha This ofc isn’t getting enough traction and I get it… I really hope that it does later on because I'm really excited  :( 

You were in the astronomy tower with Blaise, Draco and Matthew, you had brought, as promised, your telescope and were trying to explain the homework to Matt, that was only mocking the boys and not paying attention, it was sort of frustrating

When he spoke to you, Draco quickly answered for you, or simply stood between the both of you, you didn’t understand why, but finally he managed to see the constellation he picked and wrote down some things in a parchment, and then it became late and you had to come back to the commonroom so you wouldn’t be caught after hours out of bed.

Blaise and Matthew walked in front of you, and you managed to grab Draco and pull him back, as soon as you were walking by his side you asked him, point blank

“Are you ashamed of me?”, you asked bluntly, he looked at you frowning, like that was the most stupid thing you had ever say

“Why would you think that?”, he snapped

“You never introduced me to your other friends”, you said quickly

“I did! you know Crabbe and Goyle”, he said easily

“But not Nott and Zabini”, you corrected, “Or Matthew”

“He is different”, he said, quickly, “I didn’t know it was so important”

“I feel like I’m an outsider”, you said

“YOU ARE NOT!”, he snapped

“Is it because we don’t know who my father was?”, you asked shyly

“We know he was one of the sacred 28 that is enough for me!”, he said back, yes actually that is the only thing you knew about him, him and the fact you didn't have any direct family like grandparents or uncle and aunts

“But still…”, you murmured

He had this guilty look on his face, after he told you you couldn’t borrow his racing broom he had at the manor, when he didn’t want to share but he felt guilty because it was you

“You are my best friend”, he said, as he was actually not only apologizing but giving an explanation. 

You decided to drop it, as you got to the common room and separated to go to your own rooms.

“Good night”, you said shyly

“Good night”, said Draco and Blaise as they walked towards their room, and Matthew just stood there and watched you go inside your room.

The very next day, you had defense against the dark arts, which you, by reading your book, thought it was going to be the most interesting class, but alas, you had Professor Quirrel

He wasn’t a bad teacher, but the way he spoke nervously, and stuttered a lot, made you nervous and it was hard to follow his instructions, and he always spoke sentences as questions, so you didn’t know if he was making a statement

But you did well in his class

And just like that, weeks went by and now you were enjoying the Hallowe'en feast, you loved Halloween, you loved to carve the pumpkins, and the candy, and you felt like it was the only day of the year in which wizards and witches could mingle in the muggleborn without being treated as weird

The muggles were the weird ones, you thought 

Anyways, tomorrow, the classes were suspended because of the holiday, and you were going to go to the pumpkin patch outside of Hargrid’s house to grab pumpkins to carve and bewitch. It was one of the few activities that were available for first and second years since you weren’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade, the little town near the castle grounds 

Draco did not want to go, under any circumstances to go near “Harry Potter’s best friend Hagrid”, but you did, so he was forced to accompany you and Millicent, who also showed interest

“I dare you to eat one of those”, mocked Mathhew to Draco, pointing at a bowl of magical gummy eyes, they were enchanted to look and move like real eyes, but they were made of gummy, but they give you the creeps because of how… wet… they looked

“No way!”, laugh Draco, “I’ll give you my next treat box if you eat one”, you giggled as you grabbed a huge black and orange lolly as a dessert

“TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!”, a scream interrupted everyone as professor Quirrel entered the great hall running desperately, “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!”, he screamed again as he was running to the huge table where the teachers were, “I thought you should now!”, he said wobbly, and collapsed to the floor

You exchanged concerned looks with Draco and you both screamed at the top of your lungs in desperation alongside all of the students

A troll! They were huge, smelly and dangerous!

“SILENCE!”, Screamed Professor Dumbledore, “Everyone will please, not panic. Now, Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons”, he concreted, and your own Prefect did his best, though you all pushed each other to exit the hall, considering that your common room was actually near the dungeons 

But you didn’t encounter any trolls on your way there, and then you were safe inside it.

The very next day, the only thing everyone was talking about, is how Potter single handedly defeated the mountain troll that sneaked into the school, Draco was frowning all day in the pumpkin patch until you brought the pumpkins back to the common room.

It was a fun afternoon, MIlicent and you had carved the pumpkins, and Umbra was perched on your chair, eating the seeds you had leftover, it was quite funny actually.

You carved a toothy grin on your pumpkin, with sharp eyes, it looked a bit diabolical, MIlicent opted for a more complacent face for hers.

“You have the spell?”, you asked, just when Draco came back accompanied by Blaise, Theo, Matthew, Greg, Vince, Pansy and Daphne

“What are you both doing?”, asked Theo, making you both blush, it was no secret that he was the cutest boy in your class

“Head full of seeds, a funny bloke, make this pumpkin talk and joke!”, she chanted pointing at her pumpkin with her wand, and in a second the pumpkin started moving its face

“Welll…. hello!”, he said with a sharp voice, you gasped, surprised, taking out your wand, when the pumpkin started to speak rapidly, looking all around 

“Wicked!”, muttered Crabb, and everyone grabbed a pumpkin and started carving 

“Head full of seeds, a funny bloke, make this pumpkin talk and joke!”, you repeated religiously, and surely enough, the face of your pumpkin started moving, showing you an even wider, more devilish smirk

“Hello little lady”

“Would you tell me a joke?”, you asked

“No… but I know some good ol’ limericks that might interest you”, you were concerned to say the least, “There was a professor at Hogwarts, who had a complete set of Rose Quartz, he cleaned them and used them, but then he stored his…”

“NO!”, you interrupted him, afraid he would say something naughty

Your friends made their own Pumpkins, and they they brought them to life

Let’s just say that didn’t end well, you learn like 20 naughty words, and the noise got so loud, Professor Snape quashed all your pumpkins because they started singing dirty songs and jokes who made all the people in the painting to go away embarrassed and upset 

That was very funny, you had never laughed so much in your life, to see Snape’s face 

You giggled when you remembered it 

The other thing you did while you had free time, is to search for the trophies in the common room, specially the ones of Quidditch, your house won a lot! you had to train A LOT this summer so next year you were going to be able to make it to the team, as it was yours and Draco’s dream.

Only one year the Slytherin team had won every year, and you manage to steal a picture of the yearbook 1978 of the library of it, and you managed to actually ask the prefect to see that year’s playbook, and studied the plays, which he found odd, but didn’t say anything

Speaking of Quidditch….

Today was your first Quidditch game! not as players but as spectators, much to Draco’s dismay and pouts 

Your first Quidditch Game! 

But you were excited nonetheless, you were going to play against Gryffindor, the best game of the year!, and you couldn’t wait, maybe Potter would fall of his broom

So you put on your favorite piece of clothing of the uniform, the thick wooden gray and emerald green scarf, you fixed your hair in a way that it wouldn’t bother your eyes, because it might be windy up there in the boxes, and you ran out of the girl’s rooms to meet Draco in the Common Room

Soon you were cheering up in the boxes when the Slytherin team show up first, obviously, and they started flying around the field

You and Draco and the rest of your year were all in attendance in the same box and cheered loudly for the team, they looked so cool! you loved the dark green and the capes flying behind them, you couldn’t wait to join the team next year! 

A boy Lee Jordan, from Gryffindor, was narrating the match, and you thought it was like watching a game between England and Bulgaria narrated by a Bulgarian, so… Madam Hooch, your teacher from the flying lessons, was refereeing, as she stood in the middle of the field.

She had her broom in her hand, and the players of both teams got together around her ina  circle, the seeked even higher from the ground. 

Soon she grabbed the Quaffle, and threw it into the air, starting the game. 

A girl from the Gryffindor teams snatched it pretty quickly, she was fast and you really admired that.

You found Quidditch really breathtaking, professional players were so quick and smooth, and this was proven to be no different, your first Hogwarts Quidditch match! wow.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor., giggled the narrator, "And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead 149 -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" 

How could he breathe? you wondered 

The Gryffindors cheered loudly, luckily they were on the other side of the field, they were so annoying.

You saw both seekers, Potter and Higgs, flying above them all, watching carefully their surroundings for the sneakiest of the balls, the golden snitch

you looked back to the field and to your joy, your captain Marcus Flint took hold of the Quaffle, as he evaded a Bludger throw at him by one of the Weasley Twins

The father of the Weasleys had been to your house in the name of the ministry, searching for strange artifacts; your grandfather had to come all the way from France to recover dear artifacts that were family treasures. He was so upset it required weeks to convince him to let you stay in England.

But anyways, back to the game in question….

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"

The game seemed to stop as Pucey dropped the quaffle as he looked over his shoulders at the golden dop flying furiously and randomly.

Slytherin’s seeker darted towards it, faster that you had ever seen, and Potter too.

He had a Nimbus, and that gave him clear advantage.

A professor had given him that broom, was that even fair? You shook your head trying o wipe those thoughts out of your mind, and then… Flint scored for Slytherin

The entire box and the one next to it exploded in cheers and chants 

Flint was waiting for a pass from Pucey, intercepting Harry and he got himself an infraction for interfering, you growled in frustration 

The bludgers started to take more stage, flying more furiously as Gryffindor took possession again and the game became quicker and even more violent, of course the Slytherin were on edge because of the skills of Harry, which surprised everyone as it was his very first game

And then, loud gasps and shouts took everyone’s attention to Potter. When you managed to spot him, he was flying frantically, it seemed like he had lost control of his broom! you wanted to laugh, his broom was failing him! but then you gasped when he almost fell from it, barely hanging on with one of his hands, he was too high in the air! he could really harm himself if he falls

“What's happening to Potter?”, asked Zabini

“Too much broom for such a little Git”, mocked Draco and everyone laughed 

He started zigzagging in the air and everyone saw it, screaming and gasping, the Gryffindors asking for a timeout

But when Madame Hooch did anything to prevent it, the game kept going, Slytherin had taken possession again and 

You were winning! with 90 points and Gryffindor by 30, it was so exciting! you were wondering if they could manage to make more points that the snitch was worth, as you saw Terence HIggs and he was flying randomly, clearly he didn’t have the snitch on sight

You turned back to look at Potter and he seemed to have regain balance and control of his broom

You couldn’t believe that barely weeks ago he didn’t even know what Quidditch was and now he was playing for Seeker in Gryffindor

The snitch apparently showed itself to Potter, as he and even Terence spotted and started chasing it quickly 

They both were pretty high in the air and darted downwards towards the ground quickly, HIggs stopped but Potter kept going, his arm in the air ready to catch it. 

He fell to the ground, and he looked like he was going to be sick and then, to everyone’s surprise, he coughed up the snitch. 

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head

Nobody really knew what was going on

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it", your captain fought hard for the “win” to be dismissed, but the win was proclaimed and there was no turning back

Draco, instead of sad because we lost, he had that face that told you he was cooking up a plan

“The team is there, we need a better seeker”, and he was going to be that seeker next year

You smiled back at him

We still had two more games to watch, against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff

You still had chances to win the Quidditch cup