#but I think theo keeps his distance a lot which could also feel awkward a bit

[silverpiwon]

Am I crazy or is Theo the only member left who wouldn’t act awkward around girl groups? lmao

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 9

A/N: Hello, magical tumblr friends! We’ve reached part 9! I can’t believe it. Thanks for sticking with me through this wild ride. Thing are getting really good here. Today I realized I have like 70 of them. Can you believe it? I never expected to have followers lol. Thank you all. 

For this chapter, all I want to say is that I don’t hate Astoria. I really don’t. Thank you for your turkish telenovela plot twist ideas lol, I’m definitely going to write something in that fashion sooner or later.  

Also, the novel I’m referring to (both in with the quote and the comments) is called “Normal People” by Sally Rooney. If you haven’t read it, I very enthusiastically recommend it. I couldn’t put it down. And now I can’t stop thinking about reader and Draco’s relationship to be a bit like theirs (better written and without a lot of the tragic subtext, of course). 

Anyway, let’s do this! 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 1874 Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist  

Enjoy! 

3 May, 2007

“You really don’t want to sleep, do you?” Draco cooed at his son.

“Da-da,” the eight-month-old baby babbled as he made grabby hands at his father. The blond man melted and took his toddler out of the crib, cradling him in his arms.

“What am I going to do with you, Scorp?” he asked as he nuzzled his nose. The boy giggled in response.

Draco tried to be the most loving father. Whenever he wasn’t at the hospital, he was pampering his son, playing with him and making him feel loved. Draco lived for Scorpius’ cute little chortles and he vowed to do everything in his power to keep his son laughing without a care in the world.

The day Draco held Scorpius for the first time, he was invaded by a bliss he had never experienced before. Draco realized that he had finally done something good. He had helped create a little person, a pure and wonderful little person. He, Draco thought, was his second chance in life. Even if the nightmares and the guilt still haunted him, Scorpius’ tiny self reassured him. And so, the boy became his everything.

This week, though, Draco had to admit he was exhausted. Astoria had moved to the Greengrass estate for a few days to take care of her sick mother. 

“Nothing too scandalous,” she had explained when he asked about the symptoms, “but she still needs her daughters’ care”.

If Draco had noticed something suspicious in the defensive tone she adopted, he said nothing of it. Astoria’s family emergency left him alone to take care for their toddler. Since she hated every minute of living under the same roof as Narcissa and Lucius, they had moved to a flat in muggle London. His parents hadn’t yet forgiven him for that. Throughout the week, it was Molly Weasley who had come to his aid. Much to her delight, she took care of Scorpius – as well as her grandchildren – while he worked. As he did his rounds, though, his son was in the back of his mind. Scorpius had never been without at least one of his parents before and Draco hated the idea of him thinking he had been abandoned. He’d floo back and forth from the hospital to the Burrow only to find a very smiling Scorpius crawling around with Albus and Rosie.

Thankful as he was for Molly’s help, the whole ordeal drained him. He was working double shifts and then going to their empty apartment to feed his son and play with him before he could even think about hitting the sack.

Regardless of this, every time Astoria owled him he insisted it was fine. Ever since he found out Astoria was pregnant, Draco made an extra effort with their relationship. Even before Scorpius, they had turned cold and awkward with each other, but Draco loved and cared for Astoria and by Merlin did he try. He was gentle and kind, he took her out for dates, asked with genuine curiosity about her day, bought her gifts and was as accommodating as he could possibly be. She had an agitated social life, with weekend getaways with her friends and constant dinner dates with her sister, but even if at times it meant sacrificing his own social life, he wouldn’t complain. Draco could even say they were happy.

At times like these, however, he couldn’t help the intrusive thought of what all of it would all look like with (Y/N) by his side. He’d supress those ideas immediately, thinking about how Astoria was the best mother Scorpius could ever have. Yet, an overwhelming sense of how incredibly plastic and sterile his relationship with Astoria was would still linger for a while, filling him with dread. He’d then try to push it back and shower their son with as much love as he could possible give him.

Tired as he was, Draco realized it was very late. Scorpius was still giggling in his arms. As he sat in the library, Draco grabbed (Y/N)’s latest book in one hand and held his son cautiously with both arms.

“I’m going to read this novel to you, young man,” he said, “And you’ll understand none of it. But hopefully I can enjoy it for a while and you’ll fall asleep. Deal?”

Scorpius’s glimmering eyes lit the world for Draco. He kissed his son’s forehead before starting to read out loud:

“Sometimes she felt like saying: Would you miss me, if you didn’t have me anymore?” Draco gulped before continuing, “She had asked him that once on the ghost estate, when they were just kids. He had said yes then, but she’d been the only thing in his life at that time, the only thing he had to himself, and it would never be that way again”

As he carried on, he couldn’t help but think that this novel was written just for him to read. It was, after all, about two friends whose relationship status changes throughout the years. He felt his heart heavy, wondering if (Y/N) ever thought about him not caring for her. Because he did. He cared for her very much. And he missed her. She had been living in Paris for the last four months and she’d come every now and then, but he still missed her. At times, he felt like he always missed her, even if they were in the same room.

“I did choose your godmother well, didn’t I Scorp? You’ll be nothing if not a well-educated, perhaps even a bit snobbish, lad,” he teased.

Much to his satisfaction, Draco noticed how his son was now peacefully sleeping in his arms. He walked to the nursery and put him on the crib, leaving the door ajar just in case. As he was about to crawl into bed, Draco heard a crash on the living room. He grabbed his wand and hurried out, determined to protect his son.

“Leave now, please,” he heard a hushed, almost panicky, voice say.

As he reached the living room, Draco faced something he never thought he would. A wide-eyed Astoria stood in the middle of the room. She was giving her back to him and, instead, faced none other than Theo Nott, Draco’s old classmate. He had a determined glint in his eyes.

As Astoria turned around to face him, Draco noticed a sense of complicity between the two of them. He gulped, realizing what was going on. The blond man blinked tears back as he noticed his wife sported a series of love bites he had certainly not printed on her skin. They were both dishevelled, lips a bit swollen. Draco also realized Astoria was wearing a man’s sweater.

“Draco, it’s not what –“

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while, mate. I love Tori. We’re happy together and I am tired of hiding,” Theo’s deep voice interrupted her.  

“Draco,” Astoria said, her voice sounded muffled, as though they were underwater, “Draco, listen to me.”

Draco stared at his wife as though she was a total stranger. The shock made him experience everything in slow motion, to the point in which he only realized he was actually crying when Astoria tried to wipe the tears. Draco pushed her away very softly, barely even touching her, and just turned on his heels. He stumbled towards his room, scantily registering what was going on around him.

For a second there he thought he was dreaming. He closed the door and put up a charm. Draco collapsed on the bed and finally heard himself sob. His heart felt genuinely broken. He heard the knocks on the door. Draco picked on Astoria’s conversation with Theo, maybe they were even fighting, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t care either.

As many times before, Draco felt empty, small and pathetic. And, as many times before, his thoughts went to (Y/N), wishing she was there to console him.

…

On the other side of the English Channel, possessed by coffee induced jitters, (Y/N) sat wide awake in her library. It was late and she was very tired, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She decided to read Hermione’s letter, which she had postponed for a couple of days already.

Dearest (Y/N/N),

Four months gone and I still cannot believe you’re living in Paris. What a dream! I am really happy for you, dear. We have all agreed that a change of ambience could benefit you greatly, even if it means we won’t be able to enjoy your presence as much. Don’t make our great sacrifice of depriving us of your company be in vain. Remember you’re in the city of love, so you better not be glooming on your desk all day.

All jokes aside, please take care of yourself, (Y/N/N). I would be lying if I didn’t say I’m worried. Molly is worried. Even Ron – at times so daft and oblivious – is worried. Sleep well. Eat at regular times. Don’t overthink…too much. This whole poète maudit behaviour might be very fancy and bohemian, but it is, without a doubt, unhealthy. And we all want you – no, we need you – healthy and happy.

Lovely, I devoured your latest novel. It is an absolute hit. It feels so…so real, so visceral and heart-breaking. I cried thinking about how much of it is inspired by your real-life experiences. I have never met someone who experiences life the way you do, someone who has this way of conciliating the world through words. My heart goes to you, (Y/N), along with my admiration. I hope distance can mend your heart, so you can finally write some lighter poetry, like you did when we were children.

I am very busy with work, looking forward for a promotion over the next couple of weeks. With Ron we have also been talking about the possibility of having more children. As an only child, I would love my Rosie to grow up with someone by her side, although I must say she’s practically attached at the hip with Albus and Scorpius. However, I still cannot decide, you know? I feel like my ever-growing responsibilities at the ministry might get in the way of me giving my child – and potential other children – the attention they deserve. I do not think I could adapt as easily as Ginny did. She is doing great at her new post, by the way. But I do not see myself anywhere else. I know maternity is far removed from your reality right now, but I would love to know what you think about this. I already know Ginny’s perspective. I also talked about it with Molly and my own mom. I have read a couple of books as well.

Anyway, I will not bother you anymore. Please write back whenever you see fit. Do not isolate, (Y/N). We are all here for you. We miss you. We cannot wait for you to come. As soon as we have vacations, we will visit you as well. I am hoping for the day in which we can finally stroll together through all of those bookshops in Paris – muggle and magic.

Love,

‘Mione.  

tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook @iliketoast23 @hopplessdreamer @winnsmills @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @animelover09556 @happycomb @xtrashmouthxtozierx 

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (34/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to tag previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!”

A/N: 

However, the more comments and response I receiver from chapters will inspire me to write more frequently. It was one of the reasons why I took such a long break – because it felt like no one cared about this series anymore. So, i’m hoping that people still do.

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 05x06 & 05x07

“You’re helping with the reading?”

Theo turns at the sound of your voice, blinking. He thought you’d already be inside. “Scott talked to me at school,” Theo nods, falling next to you with a faint smile. You fall next to his side with ease, any previous doubt you’d had about him pretty much gone. Of course, there was still a part of you that wondered. Especially because of how skeptical Stiles was, and you trusted Stiles. But Theo had also helped you discover more about your powers, and was still continuing to do so. Not only that, but it seemed he was willing to help the pack as a whole as well. “I offered my help.”

You hum in recognition; “i’m surprised he agreed.” The words slip past your lips before you can properly assess them, and then stop yourself from saying them. Turning to Theo once more, paused in front of your own front door, your eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it like that--”

“It’s no worries,” Theo brushes off easily, laughing lightly. “To be honest, i’m surprised as well.”

His words ease you and you let your shoulders fall, a small smile falling on your lips. “Well,” you continue, gesturing to the door, “we’ve got a long night ahead of us, so...”

Theo leans forward, grabbing the door for you and stepping back; “ladies first.”

You forced yourself to stop from blushing, ducking your head slightly to hide what little bit of red that had managed to grow on your cheeks. Theo steps in behind you, and as you turn to say something, you’re not even really sure what, you let out a little gasp of surprise at how close he is. There’s a moment of awkward pause where the two of you just stare at one another, Theo feigning obliviousness as you desperately try to stop yourself from blushing.

What’s wrong you? You mentally slap yourself. He was just walking inside. Nothing more. You don’t have to be so jittery.

A cough interrupts you from your thoughts. Turning your head over your shoulder, you meet Stiles’ gaze where he stands with the rest of the pack. Embarrassed, you once again lower your gaze to the floor, quick to create some distance between you and Theo, instead falling next to Stiles. You ignore the look he sends you, crossing one arm over your chest with a thick swallow, turning to your brother; and careful not to meet Theo’s gaze.

There’s only another moment of awkward pause before Scott speaks up, coughing in an attempt to diffuse the awkward tension. He sets out the Dread Doctor’s book, following with the many copies he’d made, on the table before you all, leaning back once he’s done.

“My mother’s book clubs usually has a lot more wine.”

“Well,” Stiles speaks up, and finally you turn to him, “they also probably didn’t read books that cause violent hallucinations.”

“That’s why Malia’s here,” Scott explains, eyes on said girl with a faint smile.

“So none of us go running into traffic?”

Scott pauses at Kira’s question, biting his lower lip; “or worse.”

“Like what happened to Judy,” Malia comments, pausing when she notices the looks sent her way. “Chapter fourteen.”

Rubbing your hand across your face, you sigh.

“Maybe I should have my mother read it,” Lydia jokes, though it’s more of a sarcastic comment than anything. “She might remember a girl with a tail leaping off the ceiling and attacking everyone.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “if it works.”

Lydia pauses; “it has to.”

“What’s that mean?”

Lydia inhales deeply, as if mentally preparing herself for what she’s about to say. “I think... I saw them during my surgery.” Your eyes widen, turning to her with concern etched deep in your gaze. “When I look at the cover of the book... it’s almost like...”

“A memory trying to surface.”

Blinking, you turn to Theo.

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that what Valek wanted when he wrote it?” Kira asks, to which you nod.

“If they did something to me,” Lydia continues, “I want to know what it is.”

-

You try to focus on the words on the page, you really do. But as each moment passes, you find it harder and harder to do so. 

When you raise your head, desperately trying to look for a distraction of some kind, it’s almost instinctively. You don’t mean to do it, because deep down you know you need to read this book because, you never know, something could’ve happened to you. But you don’t even really realize you’ve looked away until you notice Stiles, sat to the side of you, rubbing at his right shoulder, face scrunched up in discomfort. And at that point, you’re glad you were looking for a distraction or else you wouldn’t have noticed.

“Did something happen to your shoulder?”

Stiles blinks, turning to you with surprise; “what do you mean?”

“Your shoulder,” you repeat, gesturing in the direction of it with a tilt of your head. “You keep rubbing at it.”

For a fraction of a second, almost too quick for you to properly see it. If you hadn’t been focused on him so intently, if you had even blinked for too long, you would’ve missed it. Stiles’ face falls and this look passes through his eyes, but then he blinks, and it’s gone. “Oh,” he says after a moment, eyes flooding with clarity. “The jeep broke down again. I hit my shoulder trying to fix it.”

Brows furrowing, you pause, unsure. But that look...

Leaning forward, you move to set your hand against Stiles’ arms; “are you sure? Because--” 

Darkness. Fear. Terror. Regret. Guilt.

Gasping, you pull your hand back. Lips left parted, you glance down at your hand before looking back up at Stiles, trying to make sense of what had just happened. You know what happened; it was the same thing that had happened with Isaac that one time. You’d done it Scott before too. And once with Stiles. But at the same time, you don’t. 

It just hadn’t happened in so long that you hadn’t thought... and Stiles, he’d felt so... so cold.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Stiles reaches out for you and you pull back hastily, hating the look of hurt that crosses his expression.

“Sorry, I...”

Blinking, you pull yourself out of your thoughts, meeting Stiles’ gaze. He looks confused, but you can also see a sliver of fear in his gaze; fear that he’d been caught. But on what?

That look...

Choosing to brush it off, you shake your head, setting your hand in your lap. “Nothing,” you lie, knowing you don’t sound all that convincing but continuing anyways. “I’m just tired. It’s... I’m fine.”

“Y/N--’

“It’s fine, Stiles.”

There’s a moment of pause, the two of you looking at one another. You’re not sure what to say, and you know neither is he. You hadn’t meant to snap but nothing of what had just happened made sense and it was clear by the look in Stiles’ eyes, he didn’t want to tell you what he was so clearly hiding and that angered you somewhat. It was best, for now at least, to just leave it alone.

Nodding, Stiles turns back to his book, glancing your way one last time before doing so.

With a shaky sigh, you glance down at your lap, where your hand rests, watching as it shakes.

When you’d touch Stiles, those five things is what you had felt. All the flashes of images that had burned through your mind had been a blur and you couldn’t make sense of them all. But you saw blood, a lot of it. You could still hear the yelling that had echoed in your mind not moments before. And most of all, guilt. Stiles felt guilty.

He was being chased and then... nothing.

Clenching your hand shut, you shake your head.

-

Scott...

Slowing your step, you feel a shortness of breath. A gasp leaves your lips and it feels like your world spins, your palm falling on the set of lockers next to you, trying to balance yourself.

You can’t breathe, it feels like your throat is closing in on itself. But nothing’s choking you, and oddly enough, it doesn’t feel like that. This feels different. This shortness of breath feels familiar all the while foreign, different. There’s no pounding, no headaches, your powers aren’t spiking out of control, because; it’s not your powers. It’s Scott.

Asthma. Scott’s having an asthma attack.

Eyes falling shut for a moment, you try to exhale, it coming out more wheezed then anything. Scott, the voice in your head says again. You need to get to Scott. You need to help Scott. He’s... He’s having an asthma attack. His inhaler... You move to step forward, your feet feeling oddly enough incredibly heavy. One step, then another, then it feels like you’re falling. The world’s spinning, fading, your eyes fall shut, bracing yourself.

Nothing ever happens. You don’t hit anything.

Opening your eyes, your throat suddenly feels clear. It feels like you can breathe. What...

It’s then you notice that you’re no longer in the school hallway anymore. You’re... home? Not only that, you’re in the upstairs hallway, right outside your bedroom door. 

“What the...”

“Please! Daddy! I--!”

There’s a loud thud, and you blink, head jerking back. That voice had sounded like you, but higher pitched; it sounded like you but younger. But, how can that be possible? You’re right here. You’re...

Taking a small step forward, you hesitantly let your hand fall on the door knob to your door, where the sound hand come from. It’s cold to the touch, and part of you, like an echoed whisper in the back of your mind tells you not to open the door. There’s nothing but bad memories there. And yet,  you find yourself turning the knob and pushing the door open, and your eyes land on the sight of your father’s back, hunched over something. Or rather someone. When your gaze lowers, you realize it’s you.

A young you. You’re no older than seven there, on your back, staring up at your father with wide and terrified eyes as he glowers down at you, hand raised.

Your heart plummets; you know what this is. This... This memory.

“Shut your mouth!” Rafael roars, grabbing your tiny wrist in his own much larger hand and tugging harshly, yanking your younger self up to your feet. A cry leaves your lips and the you now watches in horror, a memory of your own all but unfolding before your very eyes. “Your brothers asleep next door! Do you want to wake him?”

“No, no! But, daddy, please--!”

A growl leaves your father’s lips, then he tugs, hand still wrapped around your wrist, all but tossing you across the room, directly where you’re stood now. Without thought, without rational thought, you move to catch your younger self, but you slip right through your own fingers, crashing against the wall right next to the door. 

Just like you had that night...

You’re crying now, sobs leaving your lips. You watch as your younger self bites your lower lip tightly, in attempt to quiet your sobs. For Scott, it had always been for Scott.

Then, there’s footsteps. You turn to your father, he doesn’t hear them. He hadn’t heard them that night either.

The door bursts open then, and your mom appears through the doorway. You watch as her eyes widen, taking in the situation before her very eyes. She’d just come home from work when she’d heard the yelling and screaming. Her eyes drift from Rafael, your father, her husband, to you, her daughter, his daughter, crumpled on the floor, curled into yourself as wretched sobs leaves your lips and then this expression washes over her.

Hatred, betrayal, fear, disgust but most of all, guilt. Guilt because she hadn’t know. Guilt because she’d let this go on this long. And guilt because she hadn’t been there to protect her own daughter. She’d blamed herself for months, years, maybe she still did now. Blamed herself that all of this had happened right under her nose and you, her sweet, selfless daughter and endured it all without ever saying a word because you hadn’t wanted to be a bother.

This is the night mom kicked dad out of this house. This is the night your father threw your brother down the stairs. This is last night your father ever hurt you. 

This is the night you ruined everything.

“--Y/N! Y/N!”

Blinking, you gasp, suddenly feeling the hands wrapped around your arms. You feel your heart spike in panic, remembering what you had just witnessed, your own memory, and you fear that the hands belong to your father. That you’re not just witnessing the memory anymore, but reliving it all over again and you let out a shrill scream, not realizing where you were.

“Y/N! It’s Theo, Y/N!”

The screaming stops, and it feels like you finally focus on what’s before you. Sure enough, Theo’s crouched before you, desperately trying to calm you.

It’s then you notice the group of students surrounding you.

Theo glances over his shoulder, before meeting your eyes. The question still leaves his lips, but part of you figures he already knows; “what happened?”

“I... I don’t know.” You whisper, eyes distant, dazed.

Frowning, Theo bites his lip in thought. “Here,” Theo says after a moment, shifting to wrap his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you to Scott.”

-

“You guys try to find Stiles and Lydia. We’ll find my mom.”

Nodding at both Theo and Malia, you follow quickly behind Scott, heading down the hallway with him. As you turn towards the hallway, Scott pauses.

“Wait,” he calls, moving his hand out in front of you. You turn to him with furrowed brows. “We should split up,” he suggests, causing you to frown. “We’ll find her that way quicker.”

“Scott,” you sigh, “splitting up never helps.”

“I know,” he inhales deeply, shaking his head. “It’s just we don’t have a lot of time and....”

Huffing, you glance down the other way, biting your lip in thought. He’s right, you don’t have a lot of time but splitting up is never a good idea...

Against your better judgement, you nod. “Fine,” you finally agree. “But call me if anything happens.”

Nodding, Scott starts to shuffle backwards; “same goes for you.”

-

The elevator dings, and as it does, you kick your right foot back, steeling yourself.

Wiggling your fingers, testing the feeling of this new found power that you’re able to mold and move to your discretion, you narrow your eyes at the sight of one of the Dread Doctor’s holding Scott up off his feet by his throat. You might not be a werewolf, but you still manage to let out a nasty growl, focusing your eyes directly on the Dread Doctor as it turns to you and tilting your chin upwards.

It skids back in response, Scott falling to the hospital ground with a thud in response. “Go!” You call to your mom, urging her forwards as you take a few steps forward yourself.

This... thing, the Dread Doctor, it’s strong. You might just be learning the true nature of your powers but you know one thing, that hit would’ve sent anyone else flying. The Dread Doctor simply only got knocked back a peg or two, you won’t be able to hold it off forever and certainly won’t be able to defeat it. All you need to do is hold it back until Melissa can get Scott to the elevator. Then, you run.

Should be easy enough. Though you knew it wouldn’t.

As the Dread Doctor marches towards you, it’s steps thudding, you raise your arm, swinging it across yourself sharply. It manages to be enough to knock it against the wall, giving mom the perfect chance to run by, Scott in her arms. Once you’re sure they’re past you and close to the elevator, you turn your attention back to the Dread Doctor, just narrowly missing a hit to the head.

Straightening out, you move to send it back again, but the Dread Doctor catches your wrist in it’s grasp. A soft cry leaves your lips in response, the grip tighter than you’d expected it to be. Any tighter and you’re sure it’d break your wrist, but instead, the Dread Doctor opts for reaching for your throat with it’s free hand much like it’d done with Scott. You inhale sharply, gasping desperately for breath as you feel yourself being lifted off the floor, the tips of your toes kicking frantically against the tiled floor.

“Y/N!” You hear Melissa call, her voice raw. “Y/N!”

Eyes widening, you feel your face grow warm as the Dread Doctor’s grip tightens, it becoming harder and harder to breathe by the second. What to do. What to do. Wringing your hand still grasped in the Dread Doctor’s own, you feel your panic spike ten-fold. Think, Y/N. Think!

Your left hand. It’s still free. It won’t be enough to do any serious damage, but it might just be enough to give yourself a moment to break free.

Raising your left hand, you narrow your eyes despite the growing need for air. You force all your power, all your being, into your left hand, holding it by your side, muscles tensing, hand shaking from the force of it. Then, just as your eyes fall on the Dread Doctor’s own once more, you push your hand forward, thus sending the Dread Doctor back.

You fall to your knees with a gasp, bracing yourself as you wheeze.

“Y/N! Now’s your chance!”

Looking up, you watch as the Dread Doctor easily begins marching towards you once more. And you know Melissa’s not only right about this being your chance, but it’s your only chance.

You push yourself up to your feet without hesitation, tumbling over your own feet slightly as you turn around, just managing to catch your balance. It takes a lot of focus and strength to keep yourself steady, your vision somewhat blurry from the serious lack of air you’d experience not moments ago.

You just manage to make it into the elevator, slamming to the wall opposite of the door and turning just in time to see the doors slide shut, the Dread Doctor’s eyes on your own the last thing you see.

Sliding down, you set a hand against your chest, gasping.

“We never should’ve read that book.”

-

“Hayden? It’s Scott.”

Swallowing thickly, you bite your bottom lip, eyes on your brother as he presses himself up against the door of the room Hayden has locked herself in. As a moment of silence passes as Scott’s words, you can’t help but glance Stiles’ way, remembering that the last time you’d actually had a proper conversation with him was the night you’d touched him and felt nothing but cold.

Now, it just feels weird between the two of you. Different... And by the look in his own eyes as he meets yours, you know he feels the same.

“I know that you’re scared, but we just... we want to help.” Once again, no reply. Turning his head over his shoulder, Scott turns to Liam. “I can hear her heart beating,” Scott explains, “she’s really freaked out. What happened?”

Liam shrugs; “she was okay when we got here,” he says, voice pitched in panic. “I went to text you for two seconds and she locked herself in.”

Brows furrowing, you shake your head; “why?”

Liam turns to you, “I don’t know.”

“She’s definitely a Chimera?” Scott confirms, shuffling on his feet slightly.

Liam nods without hesitiation; “she said she heard a voice saying, ‘your condition improves’.”

Sighing, you shake your head.

“Okay,” Stiles breathes, stepping forward, “that’s unsettling.” He slips past you and you take a step back without thinking, not wanting to touch him. What’s wrong with you? It’s just Stiles. Your boyfriend, Stiles. The one you love; Stiles.. Shaking your head, you focus back on the situation at hand, letting your eyes fall on the back of Stiles’ head as he leans against the door. “Hayden,” he calls, knocking, “this is Stiles. Your sister works for my dad down at the station. Look, just open the door, okay? You can trust us.”

Yet, again, no response. Realizing this, Stiles takes a step back.

Suddenly, you find three pairs of eyes on you. “What?” You question, shaking your head.

“Say something,” Liam urges, gesturing in the direction of the door.

“What am I supposed to say?” You hiss out in a whisper, shaking your head at the three boys. “I don’t know this girl, and even if I did, it’s clear she’s scared out of her mind. And I don’t blame her. Talking to her through a door is not going to persuade her to come out or let alone believe any of the stuff we’re saying, which, by the way, sounds insane to someone who has no idea what we are talking about--!”

Your long ramble is interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. Your head snaps towards the door, as does the other three, and your lips part when the door opens enough so you can fully see Hayden. Hayden who has glowing eyes, fangs and claws.

“I believe you.”

-

“We’re lying to him!”

“I know.”

“We’re using her!”

“I know.”

“Then why are we using this plan?”

Scott huffs, shaking his head. “Cause it’s the best one we got. The only one we’ve got. And if this works, then, we’ll have one. We’ll have a Dread Doctor.”

Brows furrowing, you scoff; “do you even hear yourself? If, key word; if. We’re using her as bait, and there’s no guarantee this plan is going to work because our plans never work. And do you really expect me to just stand out here, waiting for one of those things to come, all while neither of them have any idea what’s really happening? And Stiles is out there with Theo and...” You trail, shoulders falling.

Scott’s brows furrow at your sudden stop, lips pursing in concern. “And what, Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you dismiss, shaking your head. Feeling your heart pound against your stomach, you set your hand against your chest, trying to calm yourself. You’re not sure what came over you, why you got so mad. The plan was stupid, but you also know, like Scott had said, it was the only one you had and tonight was possibly the only chance you had at catching one of these things. “We should probably start setting up, i’ll find Malia and Lydia--”

Scott catches your wrist before you can walk off, pulling your eyes back on his with a blink. He stares down at you, brows still furrowed together with a deep frown marring his features. “I know you’re lying,” he says softly, eyes flooded with concern. “What’s the matter, Y/N? You’ve been on edge for the past few days and... I don’t know, i’m concerned.”

Swallowing thickly, you glance down at your hand briefly before meeting Scott’s gaze. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N.”

Sighing, your shoulders fall. “I’m just worried, okay? About everything. That’s it.” Seeing the look of doubt in his eyes, you steel yourself, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to seem more sure of yourself and your words. “I’m fine.”

You know he doesn’t completely believe you. You know he’s doubtful. But Scott doesn’t push it, because he can see it in your eyes that you don’t want him to. Not this time at least. Instead, he simply lets go of your wrist, watching you turn away with a frown. You’ve never hidden something from him before. Sure, sometimes he’s had to persuade it out of you, but you’ve always confided in him.

Why the sudden change?

-

“So what’s the punishment for killing a Chimera?”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles scoffs; “you get to spend five hours in a car with Theo Raeken.”

Chuckling lightly, Theo shakes his head.

Then, Stiles’ pauses, realizing that no, that wasn’t his punishment and no this wasn’t a joke. It was much more than that. His punishment... it was much bigger than that. “Look,” he speaks up, frowning slightly as he glances out before himself, eyes distant. “I know what my punishment is.”

Theo turns to him, brow quirked in curiosity.

“I’m gonna lose my best friend,” Stiles finally says, voice faint. “I’m gonna lose Scott and... I’ll lose Y/N.”

-

“When’s dad coming back?”

Brows furrowing, you pause at the voice. “Scott?” You call faintly, turning your head over your shoulders, both ways. That had been Scott, but it had sound younger... like he was a kid. And for some reason, despite that sentence being incredibly odd, it felt familiar.

“It’s your fault he left!”

Gasping, you turn around sharply, just managing to catch sight of something run around the corner ahead of yourself, into another hallway. The figure was small, like a child.

“It’s always been your fault!”

“Scott? Is that you?”

Taking a step forward, hesitant and slowly, you move to make your way around the corner, setting your hand against the set of lockers. You go do so slowly, cautiously, but then you hear your name be whispered in a hushed breath and once again you spin, thinking you’ll find Scott.

You do, however, it’s not how you assumed.

Your lips part, breath getting caught in the back of your throat at the feeling of something piercing your stomach. Your wide eyes meet Scott’s before lowering down to your stomach, gaze finally settling on the sword piercing through your skin and the blood bubbling around the edges, pooling down your shirt.

“Scott...” You’re cut off by a gurgled cough, your own brother ripping the sword he’d pierced you with no more than seconds ago suddenly, causing blood to pull in your mouth.

As you feel your legs grow weak beneath you and your vision blur, the last thing you see is Scott smirking down at you.

-

Gasping, you sit up with a start, your skin clammy.

As memories of what happen resurface, you feel yourself let out a whimper of fright, your hands falling to your stomach, expecting to pull back and see blood. There’s nothing. Your hands are dry. As you glance down at yourself, the wound, the hole where you’d been stabbed by your own brother is gone. As if it had never been there.

For a moment, you’re baffled. It couldn’t have been a dream, couldn’t have been a nightmare, because you hadn’t been asleep.

Then, it clicks; the Dread Doctors.

Pushing yourself up to your feet without hesitation, you race through the halls of the schools, heading towards the boys locker-room. 

When you get there, Malia, Lydia and Scott are already there. But Liam and Hayden are gone.

-

Part 35?

Let me know what you thought?

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[grifalinas]

Mundane au I’m not going to write but I thought of the title “Cloudy With A Chance Of Love” and then thought of this so. Warning that this gets really fucking bad in places. Like not “bad writing” bad, bad like “Theo no” bad.

James is a pe teacher. He is divorced, has partial custody of his daughter, and now has custody of a younger boy as well- we’ll get to that in a second.

We’re not given the details for like two thirds of the story, but sometime within the past year something happened that is repeatedly referred to by characters as The Accident. Sometimes they call it What Happened.

James, we learn, is not coping well in the aftermath of What Happened.

The story opens with Qrow bringing Ruby and Yang by the school for open house before the new school year and talking to James, who they only kind of know in passing. Qrow, we learn, is James’ ex, from way back when Ruby was a baby. They haven’t been on speaking terms since Summer... Well... and both of them think back on their time together as a bittersweet memory.

(We learn also in this opening sequence that James’ relationship with Penny is currently strained, and that she has a robot arm. We’ll get to both of these in a second.)

On the same day, James meets the new computer teacher, Arthur Watts. Watts, we learn, is also James’ ex, his last relationship before his failed marriage. Where Qrow is for James a bittersweet memory, Arthur is a toxic stain: he’d like to keep him as far in his past as possible. They were bad for each other in so many ways and James never wanted to see him again.

That night, James is on the phone with, we learn, Jacques. (No, Jacques is not yet another ex. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a tempting idea, but no, that’s not what this story is about.) James is talking to him about Winter, and we only hear James’ side of the conversation, and it gradually grows more heated. Finally James says “We are not having this argument again, Jacques! I can’t have this argument with you again!” We don’t hear Jacques’ response, but we do see James hang up angrily, then pace for a few agitated seconds before shouting and putting his fist through the wall. Then he sinks down against it and buries his hands in his hair and just kind of. Stays there. For awhile.

The next scene we see James talking to Pietro, who is informing him that Penny has asked if she can stay with him full time for awhile. James, a little heartbroken, agrees that’s probably for the best, and then, in a very meek voice, says that he’s not the safest guardian for any kid right now, and he knows Pietro doesn’t owe him any favors, but would he mind awfully taking Oscar for awhile, too? Pietro agrees, and then asks James what happened, assures him that they might have fallen out of love but he does still care about James, so why doesn’t he talk to him?

This is the first time we actually get any context about The Accident. James explains that he was arguing with Jacques about Winter’s treatment, that Jacques accused him again of stealing Winter from him and then blamed him for What Happened. Pietro tells James that, no, this wasn’t his fault, he needs to not blame himself, but he’s misjudged what James needs to hear, and they hang up both feeling a little frustrated. We later see Penny and Oscar packing to go stay with Pietro and James assuring Penny that he understands, that he’s not mad, that if she needs him she knows where he is, that he loves her, etc.

He also apologizes to Oscar for sending him away. “I know I said I’d look after you. I know What Happened was hard for you. I’m sorry I can’t take care of you like I need to. You’ll be okay with Pietro, and I’m right here if you ever need me.”

The next day, Qrow comes to pick up the girls and runs into James. They talk for a few minutes; Qrow heard from Ruby about Penny going to Pietro’s full time, and tries to awkwardly comfort him. It’s very stilted and uncomfortable, but he mentions to James that at least he has somewhere to send the kids so he knows they’re okay while he takes care of what he needs to take care of. Always nice to have someone to help carry the load, right? It makes James feel a kind of way, but he can’t really nail it down, so he dismisses it. They pass an awkward goodbye.

That night, unable to be on his own in his house without his kids, James goes out for drinks. He spends the evening nursing a single whiskey- it’s less about the drinking and more about the environment- and while he’s at it, Arthur approaches him. They have a conversation filled with barbs and jabs and snide remarks. Arthur alludes to James leaving him for Pietro (which James denies) and digs in the knife with a point about how the relationship still failed. They argue. A lot. At some point their argument becomes physical, and at some point that turns into angry, fighty, bitey sex in the bathroom. James crowding Arthur into the wall and having his way with him, his clouded thoughts convincing him that he’s proving his point even as he gives Arthur exactly what he came here for... it’s not a good night. But it’s a distraction. Arthur parts with a snide suggestion that they should do this again sometimes. James snipes that it will never happen again. They both know he’s lying.

The next set of sequences is a bit fuzzy, but here’s a list of things we learn as we go along:

Winter is James’ assistant coach, once his star pupil and then his protege as a teacher. He loves her like a daughter and has been close to her since she was a teenager. She is currently in the hospital, still, several months after The Accident.

James had another assistant coach, a young man who practically worshiped him, Clover. Clover thought James hung the moon and the sun and would do anything for him. Clover is now dead, killed in The Accident.

Two other people died in The Accident- a student, and Principal Ozpin, Oscar’s guardian. James was close to Ozpin, and offered to take on Oscar’s care after What Happened.

James was also injured in The Accident, having horribly burned his arm and lost the use of it for several months.

Penny was also injured in The Accident, which is how she got her robot arm.

Ever since What Happened, James has kept his distance from his students, once his greatest source of pride, and his emotional connection with Penny, once his greatest treasure, seems to have broken since then as well.

James spends a lot of time at Winter’s bedside, talking to her, reading out loud to her, or just sitting quietly and looking at her hand like he desperately wants to take it and hold it comfortingly.

James continues his hookups with Arthur, messy, aggressive sex in bathrooms and broom closets, always quick and dirty and impersonal, usually the close of an argument. James knows it isn’t healthy, that he and Arthur fell apart for a reason, but there’s a clarity in these hookups, and he continues them anyway, even as he hates himself for it.

James also continues his awkward, stilted reconnection with Qrow. They aren’t quite sure how to talk to each other- it’s been so long, so much has changed. But slowly, oh-so-agonizingly slowly, those walls start to come down. Their relationship starts to shift. They become less awkward. They open up a bit more. James talks about his marriage falling apart; Qrow talks about how he quit drinking. They rebuild a friendship together in halting, hesitant steps, a little bit at a time.

About two thirds of the way through the story, James has another argument with Jacques. It’s been months and Winter still isn’t healed; it’s been months and she isn’t responding that well to treatment. Her mother is so upset, she’s taken to drinking harder than ever now, James, and more barbed comments, and James sees red and swings on him.

By some coincidence, Qrow happens to be around, and he breaks up what James was probably hoping would be a fight but was really going to be a very one-sided beating because Jacques is a prissy rich white dude and James is a beast. He pulls him away, drags him somewhere private to calm down, and one thing leads to another and Qrow and James end up in bed together.

It’s not as toxic as his hookups with Arthur, but it isn’t exactly romantic and tender, either. A few things are better, though: it’s in an actual bed, for one thing, and for another, Qrow stays afterward. He traces the burn scars on James’ arm thoughtfully and asks, “You got these in The Accident?” He’s heard The Accident talked about, but doesn’t know the details. He only moved back into town a few weeks before the school year started, and no one will tell him anything. “That must have been awful,” he says, full of sympathy. “The injuries themselves, not to mention losing the use of your arm while you recovered.”

“It’s fine,” James tells him. “I got off easy.”

“Still,” Qrow persists, “I can’t imagine losing the use of your arm was very good for your head, not after... You Know.”

“At least I still had my arm,” James insists, lazy afterglow tone replaced by firmness. No arguments. “At least I’m not in the hospital right now. At least I’m still alive.”

He’s cold after that. Qrow leaves, a bitter taste in his mouth. He thinks he’s starting to get it, but he’s not sure. It’s there in his periphery, but he can’t look at it dead on. All he knows is that James is shattering in front of him and he doesn’t want to watch that happen while he does nothing.

So he goes to Pietro. He asks him about What Happened.

And Pietro tells him.

See, James had this student, Pietro tells him. The school’s star athlete, she brought in trophy after trophy and everyone adored her. She wasn’t just a star, she was a beautiful soul. They were all taken by her- James was no exception. And as her coach, it was he who trained her, pushing her beyond her limits to become more and more, always challenging who she could be.

Pyrrha. Qrow has heard the name before- whispered by his girls in the same way he and Tai say Summer’s name.

Pyrrha was signed up to be part of an invitational wrestling tournament, something she was excited about, and she was at the school gym one Saturday for personal training with James.

Winter and Clover were there because they were helping him train her. Penny was there because it was James’ week to have her, and he loved having her nearby whenever she was with him, soaking up every available minute. Ozpin was there to supervise and Oscar was there because Oscar was always wherever Ozpin was.

“There was... an attack,” Pietro says quietly. “A rival student. She blew out the roof of the gym. It caught fire and collapsed. Pyrrha.. didn’t make it.”

Neither did Clover or Ozpin, it turns out. Oscar got out unscathed, but Penny suffered severe burns, which on her arm were so bad that they had to amputate. As for Winter-

-see, James was the reason Oscar made it out unscathed. James went for him first when the ceiling caved in. Penny had her faculties and was able to get out on her own, James clearing the way for her, but he wasn’t able to stop her from getting hurt. She was just a little bit too far behind him; he was just a little too focused on getting Oscar to safety.

But Winter? She was trapped. And the fire department hadn’t arrived yet. What to do?

James went back in for her. Burned his arm, ruined his circuitry, and saved her life.

“James hasn’t been the same since,” Pietro says. “I think he blames himself for What Happened.”

But no, Qrow thinks. That’s not James’ style. He owns his own actions, but he doesn’t self-flagellate when something isn’t his doing. That’s more Qrow’s thing. No, Qrow, now that he knows the details, finally understands what’s wrong with James.

He knows because it’s the same thing that made them fall apart years ago, because James has this habit, see, of thinking he has to take care of everyone else to the point that he refuses to take care of himself. And All Those Years Ago, when they were younger and stupider, James gave, and gave, and gave, and Qrow took, and took, and took, and when it was James’ turn to Need and Qrow’s turn to Give, Qrow let him down. And left.

Not this time. See, Qrow has realized what a lot of the audience were probably expecting, that he’s still in love with James. That they fell apart fifteen years ago because they weren’t ready for each other, not because they weren’t right for each other.

We cut over to James. He’s at Winter’s bedside again, reading to her while she rests. He starts to nod as he reads, and then slowly falls asleep. Once he’s out, Winter reaches over to take the book from him, setting it on the table and pulling a blanket over him as best she can from her position sitting on the edge of her bed (about the best she can manage; she’s so weak now, and has to lie back down afterward).

I’m not really sure how this story resolves. I’d like Qrow doing something to take care of James: giving James a chance to take while Qrow does the giving, makes him stop sheering pieces off of himself until he finishes recovering.

“I know you need to take care of people, but you can’t get so caught up in carrying everyone else’s burdens that you leave yours behind in the dust. Share the load, and let someone take care of you for a change.”

Also idk how to tie up that thread of James and Arthur’s hookups. Maybe James just tells Arthur to go fuck himself now that he’s thinking clearly enough to realize that rough bathroom wall sex with your toxic ex is a bad coping mechanism.

[shealwaysreads]

A Study In Contrasts

^ Photo by

Annie Spratt

on

Unsplash

This fic is absolutely inspired by the wonderful @drarryruinedme7 and her Theo headcanons and love for the Neville x Theo ship (theoville? neveo?) and @bblgumbby was my fantastic beta and cheerleader.

This post provided the impetus for the story, and made me cackle so check it out.

Motivation to write (as in, a fire lit under my arse with the deadline for today) provided by the amazing @growing-neville fest and the drarry discord squad - who all love their rarepairs too!

Also, here are my face-casts for this fic- Neville & Theo 👌

Neville/Theo | Mature | 3659 words | Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hot!Neville, Bearded Manbun! Neville

Can also be read on Ao3

Neville had been worried at first when Theo Nott had been hired to work with him. Theo didn’t have anything to do with growing the plants, that was very much Neville’s domain, but he took care of harvesting seeds and fruit, or taking cuttings of leaves and preparing them to be sent out to apothecaries and potions masters across Europe. He was apparently fully qualified for the job, but Neville couldn’t help but be protective his plants, and a little scared that he and Theo wouldn’t get on.

It wasn’t as though Neville had never spent time with the man, the War was a long time past, and when Harry had started dating Draco the old Hogwarts Houses had taken to mixing pretty thoroughly - both socially and romatically. On their monthly pub nights at the Three Broomsticks it wasn’t unusual for a whole host of old school alumni to show up - from all four Houses.

Theo had been coming to these informal little events since Draco had moved in with Harry. Neville had witnessed Draco wine drunk and ranting about how he wanted his friends to be a part of things too, and from then on his old Slytherin cronies were a regular part of the evening. It took a little while for everyone to become comfortable with each other, but they had all persevered. Copious rounds of drinks had certainly helped.

Neville wasn’t a shy person, per say, but he preferred a quiet dinner or drinks with his friends rather than big group events. So at first he had bristled at the inclusion of new people, people he wasn’t sure of, people he didn’t know well. But he was a grown up now, and politeness smoothed the way, then alcohol eased it even further. He could happily sing ribald drinking songs with Pansy perched on his knee now, and regularly thrashed Blaise at darts.

Theo had always seemed to keep his distance from Neville though, and at first he thought it might be some kind of hangover from Nott senior’s awful beliefs. But Luna of all people became fast friends with Theo, and reassured Neville that his idea couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Oh Neville, you’re so funny! You’re just like Harry when he used to think Draco was just like his father too, aren’t you?” Luna’s smiling face sobered. “No. Theodore is quite a gentle soul. We were the same age when our mothers died you know. He could see the Thestrals too, though he didn’t visit them like I did.”

A gentle pat on his cheek and she swirled away in a haze of white-blonde hair and tinkling bells stitched along her scarves. Neville had put that thought to bed there and then. Luna was about as good a judge of character as anyone he had ever met, and he trusted her. If she was happy to embrace Theo as a friend, then Neville was at least able to accept him as part of the group.

From that point on, Neville made a point of saying hello to Theo when they all met up, of being friendly and smiling. Neville was acutely aware of the way he looked now even though he still had days where he felt like the bumbling, chubby boy he was at school. But he was tall now, and broad; his long hair and growing beard he got teased by his friends a lot for looking intimidating. He didn’t think Theo was the sort of person who would be impressed by his fame, and he definitely wasn’t holding on to old school house rivalries, so maybe it was just the way Neville looked that put him off. Theo was at least a foot shorter than Neville, maybe he felt crowded around his bulk.

So Neville had worried at first, when he found out Theo would be working with him so closely. His work at the vast greenhouses was more than a job, it was his passion, and he didn’t want that ruined by a chilly relationship with his colleague. But he needn’t have spent so much time being anxious. Theo had smiled and shook his hand warmly on his first day in post, and seemed to be so much more comfortable talking with Neville here than in the social environment of the pub.

They had quickly developed a rapport and Neville was constantly impressed with Theo’s knowledge of the plants they worked with. He hadn’t damaged so much as a single leaf in his daily rounds gathering his harvest for their outgoing orders and he actually asked Neville intriguing questions about the growing specifications for his favourite plants.

He had even singled out Neville’s own Mimbulus Mimbletonia as the most interesting plant in Greenhouse 1, and asked all about how to safely harvest its Stinksap. Neville had been waiting for someone to be interested in that plant since his fifteenth birthday, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, and found himself flustered for the rest of that day.

All of that left Neville with the dawning realisation that he hadn’t been worried about the right thing at all. Instead of being so preoccupied with maybe not enjoying work now that Theo was there, he should have been thinking about the fact that he might like Theo being there a little too much.

On top of a quietly dry sense of humour which got even Hermione cackling on pub nights, Theo was capable, interesting, and he liked Herbology almost as much as Neville did. He was also totally, absolutely, and devastatingly Neville’s type.

Neville had finished for the day, and as he rushed into the staff room ahead of Theo he couldn’t help but think about the other man. Couldn’t help but indulge in his crush.

Theo had artfully tousled dark hair which just begged to have fingers run through it, and eyes as dark as the loamy soil Neville worked with every day. He was fair, with dark freckles across the bridge of his nose; Neville couldn’t help but think about the contrast between them, his tanned skin against Theo’s milk pale complexion.

Neville’s thoughts quickly slid into territory he knew he shouldn’t indulge in while still at work, not with Theo heading into the tea room for their end of day catch-up. He couldn’t be daydreaming about all the ways he’d like to test and compare those contrasts for himself, couldn’t imagine exactly how it would feel to run his hands over lithe muscles -  not when he still blushed as much as he had when he was a teenager. Even if the beard would cover some of it up.

He distracted himself with washing his hands and arms, scrubbing the days dirt from under his nails as he willed away mental images of pale skin on dark bed covers from his mind's eye. As he mindlessly soaped and rinsed, Theo slipped into the cosy staff room.

“Hey Nev, fancy a cuppa before we go?” Theo nodded at the kettle.

“Yeah that would be lovely Theo, thanks.”

Neville found himself smiling as he turned to watch Theo set up their usual cups for tea. It pleased him on a deep level to see that Theo know exactly how he liked his tea, knew his favourite cup. Maybe he shouldn’t be daydreaming about Theo naked while they were at work, but he could appreciate these moments of domestic camaraderie.

He dropped himself heavily onto the worn out sofa that had been probably been parked in the tea room for longer than Neville was alive, and groaned as he took the weight off his feet.

Hunching over his plants all day brought him a lot of joy, but since he’d shot past six feet tall and into the 'might have to duck to get through that door’ territory he didn’t find much joy in his back at the end of a long day. He stretched, eyes scrunched closed and his hands behind his head as he worked out all of the kinks in his spine, and was lost in the bliss of it until he heard the slosh of tea slopping over the side of a cup.

He opened his eyes to see Theo still bent over the coffee table, a small puddle of tea around each cup where it sat on the surface, and his dark gaze fixed firmly on Neville. Maybe it was just the fact that Neville had been fantasising about him earlier, but he could swear he saw a heat in those dark eyes. It was probably wishful thinking though, people like Theo didn’t go for people like Neville.

Theo sat in the chair opposite him, another ugly but comfortable relic from past staff. He settled back with his tea in one hand, and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. He almost looked nervous.

“Right. Neville. I was going to mention that I’ve just taken some seeds from the Venomous Tentacula and I think you might want to move it a bit further from the Devil’s Snare seedlings - it looks like they might get tangled together if  you don’t do that within the next week or so.”

“Oh thanks, I hadn’t realised those seedlings were coming along so fast - I’ll do that first thing in the morning. Did you get enough seeds for the—”

He trailed off as Theo held up his hand, motioning for his attention.

“Look. Um. This is a bit awkward but Luna said I should just be honest, that’s what you ex-Gryffindors appreciate apparently. But…” Theo was back to rubbing his neck again, and a blush touched his high cheekbones.

Neville wondered what on earth was making the normally unflappable Theo seem so out of his comfort zone. It couldn’t be the plants. What if Theo had noticed the way Neville had been looking at him? What if Pansy had said something? Neville might have given himself away at the last pub night, Theo had been wearing that tight fitting jumper which just made Neville want to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

“Okay I’m just going to come out with it, and you have to promise you won’t hate me. Yes?”

Neville nodded, mute with anxiety.

“First. I recognise I have got no bloody right to be making this kind of demand but I’m just kind of compromised and you have to forgive me.” He leant forward to put his tea down on the coffee table and took a deep breath, seemingly bracing himself for whatever he was about to say. “Neville, I am going to need you to stop growing your beard. Because if you get any more handsome than you already are, I’m going to end up trying to fuck you and I don’t think that is something you would appreciate.”

Having said his piece, Theo threw himself back into his armchair, covering his eyes with one hand.

Neville felt a stunned grin stealing across his own face, and realised he was already unconsciously rubbing his beard - a habit he had picked up as soon as it passed the stubble stage. He couldn’t believe that just five minutes earlier he had been so worried about daydreaming of Theo inappropriately, when apparently Theo had been just as guilty. Maybe people like Theo did go for people like him.

“Theo, I’m not going to shave my beard. I quite like it actually.”

He hauled himself out of the sofa, and moved around the table towards Theo’s chair.

“Neville, Merlin, I’m sorr—”

He cut Theo’s apology off by the simple method of moving his chair, grabbing his hand, and pulling him bodily onto his feet. Neville thrilled at the ease with which Theo followed his physical suggestions, all of the ways this apparently instinctual response could play out were whirling round his mind.

“First off Theo, I promised I wouldn’t hate you, so relax.” Neville reached out and put a hand on Theo’s shoulder, hoping the touch would calm him down. “Secondly, I’m not getting rid of the beard because yeah - I like it. But. Now I also like that you like it.” He felt his confidence ebb slightly, and shrugged bashfully as his cheeks warmed with a blush. “How will I get you to try and fuck me if I can’t lure you in with this thing?”

For one achingly eternal feeling moment, Neville is terrified that he’s gone to far. Theo’s dark eyes are wide and his mouth is open in astonishment. But then one pale hand is reaching out to him, cupping the side of his face, a thumb is rubbing against his beard and fuck it feels good when someone else did that.

Theo steps forward, intention clear in every line of his body, and suddenly Neville wants to be sure that this isn’t just a fleeting infatuation for him. They work together, they have the same friends, he needs to know what this is going to be. And he doesn’t think a simple tumble in the sack will be enough for him. He pulled the sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat, so he could take this a step further - couldn’t he?

“I’d like my beard even better if it makes you want to go for dinner with me, as well as fuck me, though?”

“Merlin, you have no idea do you?” Theo breathed as he leaned in, his eyes flicking over Neville's face as though eager to take in each detail. “I thought I was as obvious as a fifth year Hufflepuff. Neville, I’ve even got flyers for an exhibition at the muggle botanic gardens in my bag because I think you’d like their exotics.”

Neville grinned and wrapped his arms around Theo’s slim waist, drawing him against his body and reeling with how good it felt to be pressed together.

“Maybe you’re more subtle than you think, I sort of thought you might be put off by how big I’ve gotten.”

Theo just rolled his eyes and draped his arms around Neville’s neck, bringing their chests together. He was sure his heart was beating hard enough that Theo would feel it thundering against his own, but any thoughts were obliterated when Theo tilted that perfect face up and gently brought their lips together in a kiss. For all their talk of fucking, it was achingly sweet, Theo’s lips petal soft and yielding against his own.

“Nev,” a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I think we should take this somewhere that isn’t work.” A kitten lick against his bottom lip. “Fuck - I just want to do this lying down with you.”

Neville was reeling from the simultaneous sweetness of Theo’s kisses, and the heat that roared through him at the implication of his desperate whispers. He couldn’t reach his wand fast enough, ensuring his grip on Theo was secure, before Apparating them both into his flat.

As soon as they arrived, Theo’s delicate fingers attacked Neville’s shirt buttons. He made quick work of them between hot kisses and whispered promises, and before Neville knew it his shirt slipped from his shoulders and pooled on the floor. Those pale hands were immediately on him, roaming the plains of his chest and belly, both muscled from hours of manual work.

He had been right, in his fantasies, about the contrast between his tan and Theo’s fair skin. It was delicious.

He reached out and held Theo’s face, his hands cupping that finely cut jaw, and he leant down to kiss him deeply. He licked along his plush bottom lip and like a flower, Theo opened up for him on a gentle gasp. He felt Theo bring his own hands up to grasp his wrists as he cradled his face, and groaned into the kiss.

But Theo had requested lying down, and Neville was going to give it to him. He’d give him the moon if he asked for it. He reluctantly let go of Theo’s beautiful face, and braced himself to pick him up, relieved when Theo immediately wrapped his legs around his waist and buried his face in his neck to deliver dragging sucks and kisses. Neville toed off his shoes, and Theo did the same, the thud of them hitting the floor barely audible over the rushing in his ear

For a brief moment he thought about marching up the stairs with his armful of gorgeous, brave, ex-Slytherin, but decided against it almost immediately. This was going to be fast and desperate, they both deserved to take their time with each other later. He dropped down onto his sofa instead, and thanked his lucky stars for their complementary plans when Theo rearranged himself to be able to straddle his hips and stretch bodily over him as he reclined.

He looked up at Theo, his hands massaging his thighs, and grinned.

“I feel like we’re a little mismatched in the clothing stakes, aren’t we?”

He reached up to drag the hem of Theo’s jumper away from his jeans, catching his t-shirt too, and pulled them up and over his head - leaving that dark hair messy and perfect.

“I don't think we quite compare in the abs department Nev,” Theo murmurs with a wry smile. “But you’re welcome to strip me anytime.”

Neville found his words of reassurance and denial got lodged in his throat when the view actually registered in his mind. The freckles. Theo’s freckles weren’t just across his nose. A faint dusting of freckles and beauty marks dotted his lean chest, and Neville wanted to kiss every single one of them.

“Theo…” he managed to growl out over the roaring lust in his chest. “Theo, look at you.”

He had been aroused ever since Theo uttered his confession in the staff room, and now he’s harder than ever, all of this pale skin laid out before him, Theo’s dark eyes almost eclipsed by pupil in answering heat. He gripped Theo’s thighs tighter, sliding his hands upward until his thumbs grazed the hardness pressing against his zipper.

He kept his eyes locked on Theo’s, the tension between them mounting higher with every heartbeat. Theo must have felt his erection where it pressed insistently against his gorgeous arse. He took a hand away from Theo’s crotch, and raised it, thumbing one pink nipple and gasping at the reaction it pulled from Theo.

His lithe body just rolled down against Neville, a moan breaking free from that plush mouth, and all of a sudden Neville needed him closer. He pushed his hips up against Theo’s uncontrolled grind, and moved his hands to grip at his slim hip and to simultaneously drag him down into another lush, open mouthed kiss.

He groaned as Theo’s hand moved to grip his hair, he could feel his loose bun come undone under those clever hands and the sensation of the slight tug on the strands just heightened every pleasurable current running through him. He wrapped his arms around Theo, resting one in the middle of his back, and grabbing a handful of his arse with the other. He could feel those whipcord muscles working as Theo writhed against him, rubbing their cloth covered erections together like horny teenagers.

It’s hot and dirty and everything Neville had been dreaming of since he first accepted that he fancied Theo. He rolled his hips up into Theo’s grind, bracing his heels against the sofa for leverage, and moaned at the perfect friction they were building between them.

He slipped his hand into the waistband of Theo’s jeans, under his designer pants, and let his middle finger rest just at the cleft of his arse. He didn’t move to go further, just revelled in the hint of what was to come. Heat pooled low in his belly as he thought about flipping their positions, stripping Theo till he was bare, and eating him out until his eyelashes were wet with frustrated tears.

But he could wait. Right now the whimpers and moans in his ear were intensifying, and he couldn’t keep his mouth away from Theo’s if he tried, he felt like he could kiss him for days and not get tired of it.

“Nev…ah…Merlin I’m so close.”

Just hearing Theo say those words was enough to drive Neville to the edge, both of their movements became frantic as they each chased relief. They were hardly kissing any more, just licking and sucking at each others mouths, sharing breath as they panted with exertion.

Neville came first, the telltale tightening in his balls catching him by surprise despite it all, and he held Theo crushed to him as his hips jerked through his orgasm. While the aftershocks still shot through him like lightning, Theo continued to thrust down against him, whining in frustration.

With what little brain cells were still operating, Neville once again reached his finger between Theo’s pert cheeks, and this time didn’t stop until he could stroke his fingertip against his entrance. As soon as the pad of Neville’s middle finger made contact with his hole, Theo’s whole body went tense, and then - with an aching moan -  he shuddered as his orgasm ripped through him. Neville could feel his hole clenching against his fingertip, and his spent cock twitched in interest. But he could save that for later.

For now he wrapped his arms around Theo, satisfaction and warmth filling every cell of his body with relaxed lassitude. Theo relaxed completely on top of him, and rubbed his cheek against Neville’s beard like some kind of overgrown cat. Neville managed to reach his wand where he had dropped it beside the couch and cast a gentle cleansing charm on them both, cleaning their damp underwear, before casting it aside again. He dragged the blanket from the back of his sofa over them both, and once again wrapped his arms around Theo, ready to doze and then wake up and ask him to dinner.

[ohscorbus]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Saturday 17th March, 2018

This was a particularly exciting show for me because it’s only the second time I’ve been able to see Tom Mackley on as Albus. Of course, for those of you who have read any of my recaps before, you’ll know all about the brilliance that is Mackley because I can’t help but gush about him at any and every opportunity. That boy is a whirlwind of talent and energy and seeing him in a lead role only confirms that.

This is a very brief recap because 1) I barely took any notes since, 2) I was really kinda ill at the time. So this is mostly just me rambling. But haven’t you all missed that?!

ACT ONE

[Scene 4] Mackley’s Albus is a lot more interactive with his bullies but I think that’s down to his relationship with his cast mates (he has been around twice as long as Theo), and the fact that his Albus is so much more confident. For example, the line ‘with just a little salamander blood’ was spoken aggressively at (not to) Karl. Then during the first task he did a ‘and what?!’ gesture at them. The difference between Theo’s ‘kicked puppy’ look and Mackley’s confrontational ‘bring it on’ approach to his bullies is fascinating. Especially since they both still end up emotionally in the same place.

[Scene 7] The difference between Mackely’s Albus and Theo’s Albus really hit me in the blanket scene. Albus is sat on his bed but with Mackley’s Albus, when James stuck his head in he chuckled to himself at his brother’s idiocy, then he mouthed a ‘no’ to Lily’s question about her book. I really liked that interaction. Even though he was sat alone in slight darkness, there was some effort to communicate with his family. All was not completely lost. Whereas Theo’s Albus has shut down right from the very beginning and ignores them all. Every time someone steps into his room it seems to pain him more. He so obviously and desperately wants to be alone but his family deny him that. It’s just intrusion after intrusion in what should be his private space. Yet both their reactions to Harry peering in the doorway is the same. It’s instant, the way the shutters come down and he closes off. Everything about Albus screams guarded yet Harry approaches him regardless.

[Scene 10] Albus got down on one knee as he spoke to Scorpius (who was sat on the suitcase) as he tried to convince him this was a good idea. I for one, thought it was a good idea. As were the repeated knee grabs and thigh pats but you know...

ACT TWO

[Scene 4] I don’t even know how to describe this half dance, half wiggle thing Albus did when he was saying wizzo. There was a lot of hip action there and it went on long enough to feel awkward. Which is exactly what Albus flirting with Delphi should feel like. Delphi definitely seemed to think that. I was kinda hoping Samuel would come on and do the same thing since he does re-enact whatever Albus and Delphi do, but no. Shame.

[Scene 5] So sometimes I’ll hear a line differently for no apparent reason and today it was the ‘seen him in the movements of the stars’ line. This is a jumbled mess that makes no sense but welcome to my brain. Feel free to try and make sense of this! Anyway, it made me think about stars. Harry feels like he’s losing his son because he’s all tangled up with Scorpius, a Malfoy. You know what Malfoys are all named after? Constellations. Stars. Then there’s Albus’s name which means light/white/bright, just like a star in the night sky. They’re all stars. Stars which look close but are actually billions of miles away. They’re unreachable. Which is exactly how Harry feels Albus is during the majority of this play. Now I know Bane is talking about actual star movements here but it made me think about Albus associating with Malfoys, moving in their circle, because that’s where he wants to be. With Scorpius Malfoy. Not his dad. Harry can see this and he can’t stop it or join in or whatever he wants to do. Albus won’t let him in. It’s that distance again. So close yet so far. Visually, it reminded me of the very beginning of this scene where Harry is walking through the Forbidden Forest in the dark with only these tiny pinpricks of light coming from the wands around him. You know what they look like? Yup, you’ve guessed it... stars! I just thought the whole thing was super interesting even though I haven’t got it all figured out yet. I just thought visually it was cool because I really like stars so I was distracted by it for the rest of this scene. I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry walking through the darkness surrounded by these tiny stars and still not being able to see his son clearly even though he’s right there in the forest with him. Just... stars!!! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[Scene 16] Scorpius was so incredibly angry in the library scene today. The tears were streaming down his face and I was not okay. Samuel Blenkin really is something else.

[Scene 16] “…but never fell in love - never got married - never had Rose” - The last few times I’ve seen this play the ‘never had Rose’ part has got a laugh from the audience and I can’t figure out why??? Scorpius is frustrated and crying and yet people keep laughing whenever he mentions Rose. I mean, this probably sounds weird coming from someone who blatantly ships Scorbus but Scorpius is distraught about this entire situation. Whether he’s in love with her or not, she’s disappeared from existence and it’s his fault. The poor boy is crying and please please please someone explain to me why this is funny. I don’t get it. (Or maybe I’m just too emotionally attached to this boy. My heart breaks every time his does.)

[Scene 16] So during the Hogwarts through the trees scene, the boys do their special handshake thing. It’s basically a fist bump with a thumbs up and they make their thumbs touch. It’s sweet. (I’ve seen them even turn it into a mini thumb war before. Such nerds.) Today they did it after their argument in the library too and I haven’t seen them do it there before! I loved it. You could tell they had properly made up once they did that. Everything was right with them again because even though the world had changed, this hadn’t. They still had each other and their silly handshake and knowing that now definitely gave them the confidence to go on. They’re together, they can fix this.

[Scene 16] The hug in library after their argument was the best. Albus hugged Scorpius so hard, and despite being shorter, managed to completely lift him off the floor. Imagine it though, a tiny Albus so happy at having his best friend back that he literally picks him up off the floor.

[Scene 20] Scorpius does this thing where he looks down at his hands in horror when Albus says his dad is investigating the rumours, and he does it again while Umbridge is speaking to him when he gets out of the lake. I really love this gesture. It’s like he’s thinking maybe the rumours are true because look at what he’s done. These hands held and used the Time Tuner that re-wrote time and killed people. Harry Potter, Albus, Rose… they’re all gone and the people who are left are suffering and it’s his fault. You can see it on his face. The initial, ‘I did this with my bare hands’, to the ‘who am I? To have done all of this?’ : (

ACT THREE

[Scene 3] After Draco had pushed Scorpius off his desk and away, he saw his son’s tears still on the desk and he wiped them away before continuing. Let me just repeat that. Samuel cried so much he left tears all over the paperwork on Draco’s desk and James H had to brush them away. You see, this is why Samuel and James are the perfect Scorpius and Draco to me. Samuel putting his all into every performance, and James using that find new ways of destroying us. (It doesn’t beat the time he wiped them directly off his cheek with his thumb though. That one still hurts.)

[Scene 7] “You’re constantly surprised by it” - I’ve not seen Samuel have to wait that long for the laughter to die down before he could say this particular line before. You always know when it’s a good audience when something like this happens. Bless Samuel. He radiates happiness whenever he gets that big of a positive reaction. I hope he knows he deserves it. That boy is spectacular ♥︎

ACT FOUR

[Scene 1] This might sound a bit weird but I’m mesmerised by Draco’s hands at the moment. They’re so rarely still. It reminds me of Anthony’s Scorpius a bit, but less obvious. Like he’s grown up and refined his fidgeting, you know? As if he’s condensed it all down into his fingers. But anyway, Draco is always rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. It looks like an anxiety or a nervous thing. I couldn’t figure out why at first but then it kinda made sense and now I adore it because it makes him human. He looks so much like his dad, he’s exactly what you’d imagine a Malfoy to be. But he isn’t any Malfoy, he’s Draco. He’s just lost his wife, his son is suffering, he’s been thrown back into the madness that is Harry Potter’s life after years of being hidden away. It’s enough to make anyone crack. Yet he stands there with his fancy ponytail and stiff robes and he doesn’t. To me, the hand thing is a tiny insight into Draco and how not okay he’s really feeling inside. It’s also interesting because he doesn’t break, he can’t. Not while there’s still hope. He’s got Scorpius to worry about and he always comes first. It’s like when after he hugs him in Godric’s Hollow, he always zips his son’s jacket up higher even though Scorpius already has it zipped up to the top almost. (Sometimes it isn’t and he tells him off or gives him this look and Scorpius does it instantly. It’s so incredibly sweet. It’s clearly a battle Draco has been fighting since Scorpius was a child and first figured out how to undo a zip.) He’s focusing on Scorpius’s safety and comfort while everyone else around him talks about Delphi. He struggles to let go and barely looks away. Even once they’re not hugging anymore he still looks for a reason to reach out for him. Scorpius is Draco’s world. But anyway, I really love the hand thing and the point I was trying to make by mentioning all that was the fact that during the second Extraordinary General Meeting, when Harry says most people in this room won’t exist anymore if Delphi succeeds, Draco stills. His hand freezes because he knows he’s not one of them. He’ll still be around and in a much better position. Well, job wise. He still won’t have his wife and worst of all, he’ll lose his Scorpius. The boy who loves sweets and does extra homework for fun. Instead the Scorpion King will exist. That’s what the world will think his son is. He can’t let that happen…

[Scene 3] Albus ran up to Bathilda Bagshot’s door and started worshipping it like the absolute geek that he is. These two history fanboys bring me so much joy. Why can’t we be friends?!

[Scene 5] Godric’s Hollow was a mixture of excitable running, synchronised jumping, and exaggerated finger guns. Real talk, if that’s what they’re like trapped in time with no help, shelter, food, or proper clothing for a snowy October night, then I’m amazed that Hogwarts is still standing after those two go on a sugar binge. Poor McGonagall. Oh and for the ‘get potioning’ line they pretended they had a cauldron under their arm and motioned stirring it. Seriously, nerds.

[Scene 11] It’s really interesting to be able to sit in different seats at different angles and on different levels when you watch this show. It’s amazing what a change in perspective will make you notice. Today I was sat towards the end of the row in the stalls so I ended up directly behind Albus when he says, “but she’s a murderer - I’ve seen her murder”, to his dad. I couldn’t see his face, just his back. It was interesting because without his facial expression I had to rely on his body language and boy, did that scream just as loudly as he did. His wand was in his pocket and he ripped it out and started towards Delphi as he shouted. There was so much aggression and anger exploding out of him at that point. I don’t know if grabbing his wand is something Mackley regularly does (Theo already has it in his hand so it never comes across as threatening quite like that), but it really made me stop and think and feel for this boy. He couldn’t realistically take on Delphi (he hesitated before and then Harry kept him hidden behind his back during the rest of the duel) but the frustration drives him to want to do something.

[Scene 12] After Voldemort has killed Lily, everyone stills and falls silent. On stage and in the audience. It’s a really powerful scene. So usually, Harry drops to the floor once that last Avada Kedavra rings out across the theatre. He just breaks, completely and utterly, in his families arms. Albus never leaves his side and he (quite literally) supports his dad in what little way he can. He knows he can’t reach Harry in that moment. He’s lost in his pain. The loss of his parents, him standing there and letting it happen. But he tries. He lets Harry grip onto him (almost painfully sometimes) and Albus holds him back equally as fierce. It’s so different from the last few hours where we’ve seen him purposefully dodge every single one of his dad’s attempts at physical contact. But today, Harry dropped to the floor and Albus lost his grip on him. He looked horrified as he watched his dad scream out in pain from the floor. It was like it hit him, like he finally understood what his dad went through. What being Harry Potter meant. It wasn’t all gratitude and attention. It was this. The suffering and the countless deaths. The feeling of absolute uselessness as they stood there unable to stop it. Now Albus has experienced that I think he understands it more. (That’s not to say he didn’t before, but he’s fourteen and that’s a lot to process. But I think seeing someone die in front of you and believing it’s your fault, and watching your best friend grieve the loss of his mother, will change his perspective on things.) The look on Albus’s face as he looked down at the crumpled mess of his dad will stay with me for quite some time. Just like seeing his dad like that will stay with Albus too. I’m sure it plays a significant part in the healing process of their relationship.

[Scene 14] Albus booped Scorpius on the top of his head while he was stood on the step above him. I love the idea of Albus revelling in being taller than Scorpius for once. Even if it is just for a moment. It also makes me wonder if Scorpius does it to Albus on a regular basis and this was all part of his revenge. Scorbus banter at its finest, clearly :’)

[Scene 14] “And she said noooo” - Albus tipped his head back and held out his arms and sang the word no. I loved it. It’s such a Scorpius thing to do and yet here Albus is, teasing him with it instead. This scene is definitely one of my favourites. You get a lovely insight into what an average day at Hogwarts is like for these two. It’s all playful silliness. I’m glad the last scene we get of these two if just them being happy together.

[crvdence]

in sickness and in health ; thlaise drabble

summary: blaise zabini and theodore nott got married in the north of france, in a very intimate and small civil ceremony ten years after the battle of hogwarts. disclaimer: work of fiction, original story and universe belongs to the one and only jk rowling no profit gained out of this comments: this was literally supposed to be a small drabble of theo and blaise getting married and it’s like almost 2k words of nothing, it’s literally blaise and theodore wedding ceremony through the eyes of harry. idek why i came up with this. (i am sorry because i know i have a pile of writing requests to finish but i was just assaulted by this fic)

also in my head all the slytherin gang speaks french.

tagging @ff-sunset-oasis because her wonderful thlaise writings inspire the hell out of me to write more of them

read this in ao3

blaise zabini and theodore nott got married in the north of france, in a very intimate and small civil ceremony ten years after the battle of hogwarts. they planned an after party, nothing big, nevertheless; because the both of them had very few friends they could actually trust and share a moment so important like this. but there was way too little people they trusted for the actual ceremony.

neither of them did hesitate though, telling both pansy and draco they could bring a plus one if they  wanted to, they also knew that draco would invite harry in a heartbeat and that pansy would come by herself because her pride was still bigger than anything else, even after all these years.

so there he was, harry james potter, surrounded and sharing such an intimate and beautiful moment with people he had bloody hated during his school years, draco included. honestly, it was just so bizarre. if you asked harry ten years ago, he would have laughed at the mere thought of sharing a moment like this with a group of slytherins, with this group of slytherins.

and it was even more bloody bizarre, when harry started to notice and feel the amount of emotion in the air. the ceremony was so solemn, almost automatic in the way it was handled, but at the same time, the feelings were just so strong harry swore he could feel them vibrating through the air, reverberating inside his chest.

the total of guests, including harry, were five. obviously blaise’s mother, pansy and draco, but narcissa was also there. harry didn’t quite ask why narcissa was there by herself without the company of lucius, but he could pretty much imagine.

and she was looking the most emotional of the five, maybe close to harry. she was standing next to her son in a burgundy dress that accentuated her pale skin, her hair tied up in a perfectly styled bun, holding a crumpled handkerchief in her hand, but managing to keep the little sniffs to a bare minimum. probably either blaise or theodore meant more to her than harry could have ever imagined, and that was something that harry would be surprised about draco’s mother, her actual and big ability to care.

pansy parkinson stood next to her, and seemed to be the most composed, looking stern in a black cocktail dress with the highest pair of high heels harry had seen ever, her eyes sharply rimmed with black, the darkest of the reds on her lips. sometimes her lips would turn up, like with an amused expression, and harry thought she was probably thinking about memories, but overall the sparkle in her eyes was hard to miss.

then, there was blaise’s mother. it was the first time harry saw her and he understood perfectly the fame, not only she looked extremely beautiful with hard features and a smooth skin her son had obviously inherited, she was also dressed with clothes that probably were more expensive than harry’s entire wardrobe. a two pieces dress suit in a pearl colour, with what it seemed a fox fur over her shoulder, her braided long hair falling down her back. she looked touched, but somehow, her eyes glistened with something closer to hope than to tears.

and draco? draco looked exulted, truly happy, like this was something he had expected to happen but never really actually imagined it was going to materialise, so his emotion was pouring through him making him look between prideful and relieved that theodore and blaise were doing something they both should have done years ago. he was wearing what it seemed like a combination of a suit and formal robes, always leaning towards tradition, and biases aside, he looked truly stunning with a buttoned up frock coat and dress trousers, both in rigorous black.

blaise was wearing a suit so well tailored it seemed like it was just made for the other to wear it, which was probably the case, made from scratch just for this moment. it was also completely black, the shirt included, and harry guessed amusedly that if he would expect a wedding where both people were wearing black clothes, definitely it would be in a slytherin wedding.

theodore was wearing traditional dress robes, and he looked elegant and earnest. he had the palest skin harry had seen in anyone, ever, and the black of both of his hair and his clothes only enhanced that. thedore nott was actually a beautiful person, harry always thought so, especially when he could be stripped of his shyness and smile in the way a dimple could appear on his cheek, as it was doing right then, when blaise slipped a ring into his finger.

and bloody hell, harry’s chest tightened so hard he thought the air was pulling out of his lungs, because this was such an emotional and pure sight. it was impossible not to notice the way theodore’s hands trembled when they exchanged their rings, and the way blaise almost stumbled over his words, like he was getting lost in the eyes of theodore, instead of in the speech he was supposed to recite.

the words exchanged were obviously in french, but draco tilted his head enough for his lips to brush against the shell of harry’s ear, translating both of blaise’s and theodore’s bows, and the words of confirmation after it, and the emotion just kept drowning in harry’s chest.

it was so funny, that harry was feeling so much love, so much devotion, in a place that was full of people who were always thought to be stripped of both.

the kiss sealed both a promise and the ceremony, and while pansy was whistling, both draco and harry were clapping enthusiastically, miss zabini’s strong and clear italian above all of their actions, narcissa’s melodic laugh filled the air around them.

almost looking oblivious, theodore and blaise were whispering to each other, the pads of blaise’s thumbs wiping away the moist underneath theodore’s eyes, their foreheads so close, they were almost brushing against each other. harry wasn’t sure any longer about the language they were speaking in, but sometimes the intention and the meaning went beyond any language barrier.

miss zabini went to hug her son first, speaking the fastest harry had ever heard, ever, and in italian, laughing and smiling and giving a few pats on blaise’s cheeks. she hugged theodore next, holding his face tenderly between her hands, and whispering something that harry didn’t catch, but that made theodore chuckle, and nod.

narcissa and theodore hugged so tight, and for so long, that harry felt like he was intruding a very special and bonding moment just by looking at them. when they parted, they both had glistening eyes, and narcissa kissed theo’s cheek before hugging blaise, briefly, but with the same intention and care.

pansy sandwiched herself between the two of them, her head resting on blaise’s chest, and her arm circling around theodore’s waist, making them laugh loudly. with her high heels, she was almost as tall as theodore, but still not enough for reaching blaise. it was kind of an adorable picture, and something harry would have never imagine pansy parkinson, theodore nott and blaise zabini could do. pansy moved not longer after, saying that sorry no kisses, lads!, because she didn’t want to ruin her lipstick.

it was only harry and draco left, and harry felt quite stupid to feel so emotional about this, and a little uncomfortable because even if it was extremely generous for the two of them to invite him, he wasn’t nearly as close to the two of them as pansy or draco, definitely not. dating draco made him get in contact with his friends, but there was always this distance between them, even if they were closer and not as awkward as they were in the beginning.

a handshake and a squeeze of blaise’s shoulder seemed like a good fit, though, smiling with a nod and congratulating him because honestly, honestly, it was such a touching ceremony. blaise was smiling in that way he did when he was full of pride and he wanted to brag, looking smug and confident, and it only made harry grin was well, and more pats to each other shoulders were exchanged.

draco, on the other hand, went to talk to theodore. harry knew the both of them had been friends since forever, with that whole connection of pure-blood, elite and both fathers as death eaters. harry also knew there wasn’t a lot of people draco considered close, a friend and an equal, but that theodore was, unequivocally, all of those things.

it was quite a sight, the two of them in their rather traditional clothes, almost the same height, looking probably more similar to their parents that the both of them ever wished to. draco extended his hand to theodore, for a handshake, and a nod, which theodore returned to with a raised eyebrow, his hand squeezing his in a firm way but the lack of expression on their faces was slowly faltering. 

harry wasn’t sure who pulled who into a hug, but they shared one between muffled laughs, curls of black and blonde hair twirling as they did, hands squeezing backs and arms in a chaos of limbs. when they parted to look at each other, there was something in the eyes harry wasn’t quite sure he could identify, it was like they couldn’t believe they were there, maybe, and harry sometimes couldn’t, either.

talk about redemption, talk about surviving against the odds and surpassing what it seemed wrong and dangerous fates. harry knew quite a lot about that, and he knew both draco and theodore shared misfortunes in their one way, as well. he could only imagine the coiling emotion of being together like this, after all these years, in an event as meaningful as their wedding.

it was theodore the one who came to him while he was lost in his rambling, and he actually greeted him with a thank you for coming, and that was such a painfully theodore thing to say, that moved by instinct, harry gave him a hug. theodore was surprised, but also undeniably soft and touched by everything that was happening, and he hugged harry briefly as well.

when harry looked at him, theodore’s cheeks were rosy, but he had a dimple in both of his cheeks and it made harry grin, squeezing his shoulder. with his peripheral vision he saw draco and blaise whispering to each other, until he heard blaise cussing at his lover, before laughing as well.

blaise moved to theodore’s side after all the greetings were exchanged, kissing the top of his head, as theodore circled his arm around his waist, his nose brushing against the base of his neck. it was such a tender action, harry knew no one was going to believe him when he was back to england and shared the news.

the room seemed to be filled with eerie silence, and strong vibes of energy, and no one seemed to move until pansy crossed her arms on her chest, exclaiming that bloody hell, where is the firewhiskey to celebrate? it made everyone laugh, but they made their way to the celebration place while harry’s hand moved to find draco’s, as theodore’s entwined his arms around blaise’s. definitely, all as well.

[cometkins]

otp question meme

nobody ever sends me asks so i’m filling this out myself

it is all theo/shouri bc who else would it be

Who is the most affectionate?

I think they’re both pretty affectionate equally? Theo just tends to be more reserved/private about his than maybe Shouri. Shouri’s prob more comfortable outwardly showing affection. Theo will write epic poems about how much he adores Shouri though.

Big spoon/Little spoon?

Theo’s usually little spoon just bc he smol but Shouri delights in being little spoon sometimes too.

Most common argument?

Pre-Jericho it was probably just about chores or about the elders/leadership training. Post-Jericho they haven’t really argued much, but I imagine Auril will become a point of contention as time goes on.

Favorite non-sexual activity?

Sunbathing, probably. Just laying out in the grass together on a breezy day and soaking up the sunlight.

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Theo’s strength modifier is a -1 and Shouri probably has a +5 w/ proficiency at least soooo. Shouri is probably the only one doing any form of carrying any time soon here. I would say pre-Jericho Theo def carried Shouri around plenty though.

What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Theo adores Shouri’s eyes, and following that probably his curly mess of hair. Shouri would die for Theo’s freckles (and also his butt is cute).

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Shouri was just crushing from afar, so he didn’t do much aside from stare at Theo a lot (and maybe follow him around a bit from a distance). He’d probably just get blushy and his heart would beat faster any time he saw him. Theo basically slammed into things like a train, but he would get pretty bashful when Shouri initiated affection for the first while they were together.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

‘Ma Vhenan’ is the elvish word for ‘heart’ and is a general term of endearment. They use ‘Emma lath’ sometimes which means ‘my love’. Specific ones, Shouri calls Theo ‘da’ean’ which means ‘little bird’. Theo calls Shouri ‘da’adhal’ which means ‘little tree’. Theo calls Shouri little tree bc his hair reminds him of tree roots. Little bird was a name Eli came up w/ so I could not say why Shouri picked it.

Who worries the most?

In the past? Probably Shouri. He’s a big fretter. He still is, but now Theo’s a constant paranoid worrier.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

There aren’t really restaurants in the canon universe that they’d go to, but Theo remembers all of Shouri’s favorite foods (because he likes seeing that dumb happy look on his face when he eats them).

Who tops?

99% of the time it’s Shouri, but once in a blue moon Theo has a turn.

Who initiates kisses?

It’s mostly been Theo; Theo adores kisses.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Theo. He also adores holding hands.

Who kisses the hardest?

Theo agaaaaaaain bc he loves kissing.

Who wakes up first?

Before the fight w/ Jericho Theo had been waking up first just bc he couldn’t sleep. Otherwise it would prob be Shouri first.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Theooooooo. He hasn’t slept for 60 years and has a lot of catching up to do.

Who says I love you first?

Theo. He says it like day 1 and Shouri doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

In canon universe, it would be Shouri (and it would prob be little notes about doing his best for the day). In modern AU it’s Theo, since he stays home (and they’re all sexts).

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Shouri tells Theo’s family first; he initially wanted to keep it secret since Theo was popular in his clan, but they had no choice when Theo broke his arm showing off for Shouri.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

They all love it. A lot of Theo’s friends at the time didn’t like Shouri much bc they thought he was ugly and awkward. Theo ended up not spending much time w/ anybody outside his family and Shouri after the fact.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Shouri. He’s a big goofball and he loves those kinds of things.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Shouri probably cooked the most just bc he was home more and Theo had clan duties to tend to. By virtue of more practice he was probably better at it, but the things Theo made weren’t inedible or anything.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Probably Shouri since he’s the bigger dork.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Yes hello his name is Theo Lavellan and he’s the worst.

Who needs more assurance?

In the past it was probably Shouri, since he got bullied a lot. Now it’s probably Theo.

What would be their theme song?

The 2016 version of Siuil a Run by Celtic Woman

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

Theo. He’s actually a good singer, and he sometimes sang lullabies for Shouri. He'd do it for their kids too.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Idk what goes through Shouri’s head currently, but in the past he’d just be kind of sad until Theo got home. Theo probably just daydreamed of quiet moments he hoped they could have in the past, and currently he kind of just. Quietly agonizes until they can be together again. Being away from Shouri now causes him a lot of distress and he feels very lonely.