#evandar

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: A Requiem (End of the Fall, pre-war)

(A/N: A young Arya attends a very important event. This memory is eventually to be used in a future story series. I didn't reread this but I'll probably be doing edits over time.)

~~~

MODERN INHERITANCE: A REQUIEM

The sun was shining. For all things, it was a beautiful day. Golden beams lit the edges of floating forget-me-nots and set the throats of white lilies along the path burning with resplendent fire. 

But the birds did not sing. The insects that buzzed and hummed were silent. The only creature daring to bring noise to the forest was Blagden, a mournful, keening melody rising and falling as he perched atop the Menoa tree.

Mum’s hand was cold. Arya had to keep adjusting her grip, holding tight to limp fingers. She had already cried all she could, eyes wide and gritty despite washing her face three times. The tip of her nose and her cheeks felt raw from hours of trying to clear the tears, sniffling and gasping and hiccuping as the truth kept coming back.

“Evandar was felled on the Plains of Ilirea.” 

‘My Da is dead. He won’t wake up again. He won’t talk again. He won’t hug me again. My Da is dead….’ 

Mum had held her all night, almost too tightly to even breathe, silent, frighteningly silent. Never answering Arya’s sobbed questions of why, why, why.

Arya could not settle on if she preferred the hollow silence to the terrifying, ragged screams that came before. The wails of…of someone torn away. 

She had heard those sounds before. When others had been told. 

But Mum had never made those sounds. Mum had never…she had never needed to, Da was always back, he was always….

Arya looked up. Her mother’s face was white as the lilies. Her golden eyes no longer held the radiance of the sun, only the dim, feeble glow of an ember so dangerously close to sputtering out. 

She squeezed her fingers tighter, tried to rouse the woman walking beside her that felt so unlike the mother she knew. ‘Mum, be strong. Please. Please be strong. Da needs us to be strong, he needs us….’

They had all stopped now. Beneath the Menoa tree. A space between the towering roots, where all past kings and queens lay and gave their bodies to feed the greatest monarch of the forest. The casket holding Da slowed and gently settled to the needle strewn ground, the golden pinewood cradling his body as gentle as a mother with a newborn babe. Not even the clematis blooms draped and curling around the graceful engravings swayed, so soft was the care and reverence the gathered elves took with their fallen king.

He looked peaceful. Like the mornings Arya had crept into her parents quarters and clambered into bed with them, cuddled up to them as she remembered doing when so very small. Or the mornings that she bounced them both awake, proclaiming that the day begin with giggles and gentle bouts of wrestling with Da. A lion and his cub, a dragon with his hatchling. 

They had told her he would not wake. He was not sleeping. He was gone to the void, to the darkness that lies beyond. A few had told her his energy was now a part of the wider world. That he would still give to the forest with his flesh, would still be protecting her through that natural process to feed the Menoa tree, to give his lifeblood to the spells that protected their land. 

They had all told her she could not wake him, no matter how hard she tried.

It did not stop her from trying. It did not stop her from climbing over the curved lip of his funerary dais when no one was there.

She curled up against his side, and if she kept her eyes squeezed shut, her forehead pressed into his ribs, little fists bunched tight in the liquid smooth fabric of his most handsome tunic…she could pretend the crook of his arm was not limp against her back. Pretend that she could feel his heart beating. Could hear his voice as he crooned to her and rocked her to sleep. Pretend that he wasn’t cold, that his chest didn’t rise, that he didn’t move or speak or comfort her as tears leaked past scrunched lids.

Mother had been furious when she found her there. Arya did her best to not remember being yanked away from the deceptive pool of warmth her own body heat had created on her father’s skin, the collar of her tunic tight around her throat as she wailed in protest. Did her best to forget that her mother had screamed at her and shaken her and had dragged her away from the room where Da lay alone and cold before collapsing in the hall. 

Arya forced herself to remember only that Mum broke down in tears and pulled her close, cradled her in her lap as they both sobbed until Mum couldn’t any more. 

The singing was louder now. Sylvian voices rising and falling together through silent crying that streaked the faces all around them. Arya didn’t know the words. 

Blagden alighted upon the rim of the dais, white wings flared. He perched behind the crown of Da’s head, the white silver circlet with diamond and emerald and gold that once was the raven’s favorite thing to nibble and nip to bait his dear friend into focusing on his feathered companion now a reminder of loss. Blagden’s voice keened above them all, the sorrowful song of mourning constant since the battle’s end. 

Many words were said. Memories of her father from many people she did not know. Däthedr wept as he spoke, open and unabashed. So did the others. 

The entire time, Arya watched and listened to them all with wide, red rimmed eyes. So many people knew Da. She hadn’t realized just how many. He was just Da to Arya, not Evandar Könungr, just…Da. The one who tucked her in, taught her to skip stones, carried her on his shoulders, made flowers bloom at a single touch and caught her when she fell.

Then the talking was finished. 

Blagden took flight. The singing began again. 

For the first time that day, Islanzadí’s hand closed around Arya’s, her grip tight and fingers shaking. Arya looked up and saw the tears falling again, dropping to the needles at her mother’s feet as she joined the singing, a pain in her voice that Arya had only heard in her screams the days before. 

She could understand most of what they sang. An acknowledgement of loss, of an end, a new beginning for the elves, and, over all of it, a farewell.

This…this was goodbye? Already? Now?

The earth beneath the dais shifted, flowing away as a column of roots remained, supporting the casket above a gaping maw of darkness. The dais, Da’s body still ensconced so peacefully upon it, began to lower into the earth.

Arya knew he was gone. She knew, she knew that. That he was dead, Da was dead, he couldn’t talk to her anymore or hold her anymore or be him anymore but–

Mum was there, then. Kneeling, still singing her farewell, tears rolling down her cheeks. Hands on Arya’s shoulders, tight, stopping her from running forward. Before she could even suck in a breath to scream for her Da to not go. 

And yet, Islanzadí never looked at her. She kept her eyes fixed on her life-mate’s disappearing body, face white, tremors passing from her fingers to her child’s thin shoulders. 

The last piece he had left her. The only thing of Evandar truly left in this world.

The casket was even with the ground now. Arya saw her father’s face one last time. Peaceful. Cold. 

Arya squeezed her eyes shut. 

And when she opened them again, all that remained of her father was a bed of clematis flowers, lilies and forget-me-nots, sprawled out on the forest floor.

‘Goodbye, Da.’

[airosuiren]

𝕮𝕳𝕬𝕻𝕿𝕰𝕽: 𝕬 𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖉

A/N: WEDDING TIME, BABY. This is the chapter where our Queen [Y/N] and her eternal soulmate Evander renew their vows in the most Virelyan way possible—magic, armor, weapons, and absolute soulbond royalty. And of course... Lila tries to crash. In a white dress. With zero awareness of how anything works in this culture. Get ready for secondhand embarrassment, royal sass, and some well-earned kisses. 👑⚔️💋

Thank you @bunniotomia For this amazing idea!!

The wedding was set atop the Moonspire—a gleaming citadel carved into the mountain where time bent around starlight. Snow dusted the stone courtyard, where runes shimmered beneath guests' feet. The entire Virelyan court had gathered.

This was no ordinary wedding.

[Y/N] and Evander were already soul-bound—had been for centuries, through death and return. But this ceremony would tether their mortal bodies, binding them through ritual and vow until the end of this life.

She stood at the top of the steps, radiant in deep royal violet and obsidian, her armor forged with lightwoven steel. Her cloak was crimson silk, lined with runes of unity. At her waist—a ceremonial dagger, etched with their names.

Evander stood below, wolf-pelt cloak over his shoulders, frost trailing his steps. He wore black, silver, and a blade sheathed across his back. He had never looked at anyone the way he looked at her.

"Are you ready?" Kaelen asked quietly.

[Y/N] smiled. "I was born ready for him."

Just as the officiant began the ritual, a shout echoed from the back.

"WAIT!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

And there she was.

Lila Wayne.

Wearing a white wedding dress.

Under a trench coat.

Out of breath. Slightly windswept. Mascara slightly smudged.

She threw off the coat dramatically and stomped up the aisle.

"I OBJECT!"

The Virelyan court blinked.

Alarion frowned. "You... what?"

Lila raised a hand like she was in a courtroom drama. "You can't marry him! I love him! And you're stealing everything from me!"

Dead silence.

Then Lysandra snorted.

Blaise cackled outright.

Even Kaelen cracked a smile.

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. "Are you done?"

Lila flushed. "What about 'speak now or forever hold your peace'?"

[Y/N] looked to Evander, who tilted his head like a wolf humoring a confused pup.

"Lila," [Y/N] said gently, exasperated, "we don’t do objections. This isn’t a soap opera. This is a soul-binding. Our vows were etched into our souls long before this realm even had oxygen."

Lila blinked. "So... there's no... legal pause or—?"

"No," [Y/N] said, already walking toward her soon-to-be husband. "This is a sacred vow, not a stage for theatrics. Please take a seat before the moon itself decides you’ve embarrassed us all enough."

She turned back to the crowd. "Can someone give her tea or... something? Gods, this is awkward."

Evander was grinning now, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on her like she was the center of every universe he'd ever lived in.

They clasped hands over the dagger.

A golden light bound their fingers.

"I vow," [Y/N] said, "to burn down empires for you."

"And I vow," Evander said, "to freeze the stars before I let harm touch you."

The blade glowed. The runes flared. Their lips met.

Power rippled through the court.

Cheers erupted.

Lila cried. But no one noticed.

The feast was wild.

Wine flowed. Songs rang. Dancers spun.

Lila stood awkwardly near a pillar, sipping something too strong for her palate.

"Lovely dress," a noblewoman said politely. "Though... won’t it stain if a duel breaks out?"

"Duel?" Lila blinked.

"Oh yes," the woman smiled. "No good Virelyan wedding ends without at least one brawl."

A knight walked past, armor clanking. "Where do you keep your daggers? That dress has no compartments."

Lila gaped.

Another courtier added, "Honestly, it's a bit impractical. How do you expect to defend yourself in that?"

"I'm not... expecting to fight," Lila muttered.

They looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

[Y/N] found her sitting alone.

"Still here?"

Lila looked up. "I just... I thought maybe you'd be like me. That you'd still want to be... part of Gotham."

[Y/N] sat beside her. "I tried. For years."

She touched her wedding ring. "But I don't belong to a city that forgot me. I belong to him. To this world."

Lila said nothing.

[Y/N] stood again. "You don't have to understand it. But you should stop trying to steal it."

And with that, she returned to Evander.

To the only vow that ever mattered.

A/N: OKAY BUT LILA IN THE WHITE DRESS??? PEAK CRINGE. She really thought she had a "main character moment" and got hit with a cultural misunderstanding instead. Bless her chaotic heart. Let me know if y'all want to see that post-wedding brawl or honeymoon chaos next — cause you know it’s never quiet for long in Virelya. 🥂💍

Taglist: @kittzu, @trashlanternfish360, @ottjhe, @moonieper, @feral-childs-word, @tinybrie,@xomarryamox, @fawnqueenbrowsing, @wpdarlingpan, @leeiasure.

Old Taglist: @trashlanternfish360, @nixxiev, @eclipse-msoul, @plsfckmedxddy, @viilan, @rattyrattyratty, @texas-fox, @1abi, @niamcarlin,@tomoyaki, @silken-moons.

Lmk if i missed anyone!

[thatloveislikea-star]

At @brighteststarz request, here are some starcest recs!!

These are just a few of my favorite complete fics, I ran out of steam because I read so much so I might do another list later 😂 a lot of these authors have WIPs that are really amazing, so check those out if you like to follow along

An absolute classic, Want, by Saras_Girl

So good, really interesting family dynamics in Rapture on the Lonely Shore by @tenrousei-kuroi, check out their other starcest too! Another one I love of theirs is Capacious as the Sea

The Mind of Madness by phantasmaraneae is so good I’ve read it so many times

Really really hot, includes James, Little Lion by @tracingpatternswrites

I thought family planning by heated_mausoleum was funny

Heat wave by heartshapedbathtub is one of the hottest things I’ve ever read, definitely read it if you like bunny stuff, they’ve written a few more fics too

Constellations series by Evandar, has two fics, both so good, also Toujours Pur is really sweet

Winner Takes All by @the-invisibility-bloke, it’s hot, it’s funny, it’s charming, it’s perfect

Pretty much everything by @faeries-withspirits , but some favorites are Cherry Waves, Morning Glory, Starbursts (bring me back to life), Down the black hole of my lust I descend, Secret Shows in Shower Stalls. Definitely check their other fics out if you like celestial quad (reg/siri/rem/james) also their WIPs are so good

@thepsychiatristgirl exclusively writes bangers, like And All Was Well, my pussy tastes like pepsi cola (my eyes are wide like cherry pies), and speak in tongues (til you listen). That last one is celestial quad, it’s just too good to omit

Baby, it’s cold outside by @andwaitforthespark is so so so good, their WIPs are amazing, and the house always wins only has one chapter left!

@melissamwrites is one of my favorites, especially Black Holes, please check out their other works, especially their WIPs, especially Wormhole (though it is celestial quad and not just starcest) ALSO they make podfics!!! Check those out for sure!

Underneath the mistletoe by Sirci is one of the sweetest starcest fics ever, they have some other really good fics you should check out!

I love JBlackMalfoyRosier’s smutty little Blackcest series, if you like infidelity, it’s for you!

constellations, collisions, and other ways to say love by @matthewfairhoe is a brilliant two-parter

The Arrangement by rattlesnake_black, technically its wolfstarcest, but the dynamic between Regulus and Sirius is gold, and Remus is a hot bonus

@cassetteinability has some amazing fics, like All night long, need, sweet stars, Friends and brothers and lovers (take care of me) that last one does have James involved

Make Your Dreams Come True by @goldenbi is so hottttt

[allesfresser]

YES YES SIRRY FIC RECS PLEASE 🙏🙏

SIRRY FIC REC THANK YOU FOR ASKINGGG

First of all anything by the_invisibility_bloke & objectlesson they are the kings of this ship I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again

I’ll rec some for each author but really go thru their whole sirry tags it’s all amazing (I won’t rec the ones I’ve done art for bc. OBVIOUSLY I highly recommend those)

Speeding though red lights (into paradise) by @the-invisibility-bloke

Just before fifth year, true to form, Harry does something very brave and very foolish.

Hold infinity by @the-invisibility-bloke

There’s something to be said for a lapful of eager, writhing boy, and that something is hell yes.

If only that boy were sober.

Boxing Day by objectlesson

Harry looks miserable, expression still peaky and pinched. “Cho, the girl,” he blurts--the name like a sudden dagger trough Sirius’s gut because he really is that pitiful-- “She’s extremely pretty. And good at Quidditch. But sometimes I feel like I just picked her at random, too, because of those things. And I get really nervous around her but only because I want her to like me, I’m not sure I ever liked her, or if I just wanted to. And when I kissed her I felt. Nothing, really. Except, um. wet.” There’s a pause, a delectable frown Sirius wants desperately to bite. Wet, I'll show you wet, I'll make you so fucking wet, Harry.

Hold onto this lullaby (even when the music is gone) by objectlesson

The truth is, Harry doesn’t just want Sirius buying him fine robes and dressing him in them—in his heart of hearts, he wants Sirius to take him out of these robes, too.

anything by rivers_run_east

Harry shrugged. He still hadn’t moved back any further. “It was so quiet at home. I decided I wanted to come here instead.”

Sirius smiled despite himself and raised his eyebrows. “Missed my bark?”

Harry frowned faintly. “Because I like you,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

What I want (how I need) by MADR1D1SMO

"Do you trust me?" Sirius asks him, pulling his hand away and straightening up above him.

Harry nods.

With my life. With everything I've got. Like I never thought I would be able to trust anyone.

Sleepless nights by tourmaline886

Those are days when the unfairness of it all rips at him, leaves gaping wounds in his chest. But then, there’s Harry. If they’d lived, he’d be their Harry. All James’s swagger and cockiness, Lily’s softness, her gentleness. And on those days, he’s almost thankful for it all because it means this Harry, his Harry exists.

Hush by evandar

The thing Harry likes most about blowing Sirius isn't the taste; it's the things that Sirius says.

Im sure I have more but these all slap please enjoy

[loversofthegrave]

My favourite wincest fics recs

(because it's a duty and a service)

Other Brothers by homo_pink

summary: A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

reader note: top three favourite fic of all time, thinking of that post 'I'm never not thinking about other brothers by homo_pink' me too. Outisde POV, pre-series sam/dean

Flowers in the Impala by Evandar

summary: Kate wants them to be a family - really, she does - but there's something wrong with John's boys.

reader note: oh it's a delicious outside POV of how fucking weird our boys are. Pre-series sam/dean

Squint into the Sunset | Glare into the Gloaming by Dyed_Red

summary: The 70k-word nonlinear coming of age story that literally no one asked for.

"I know you want to give him the world, Dean, but you were never supposed to give him this."

reader note: I feel like this is an underrated fic, I really enjoyed it and I'd put it up there with the invisible boy series!

Howls in my bones by weefaol

summary: When John gets a call to investigate a series of grisly animal killings, he drops Sam and Dean at an abandoned cabin two towns over. The boys find ways to keep busy — playing cards, watching movies, chopping wood — but with a howling winter storm on the way, there’s nowhere for Sam to hide his illicit feelings for his older brother.

As the lure of desire threatens to devour him, Sam must learn to face the wolves that lurk outside and the monsters within.

reader note: so beautiful, one of my favourites. pre-series sam/dean

Letters from a Half-Finished Boy by homo_pink

summary: Dean discovers a secret journal Sammy's been writing in.

reader note: homo_pink again, I love all their spn fics. Oh angst teenage sammy I love you

Hot singles in your area by applecrumbledore

summary: In the video, the camera crawled up the kid’s body like a pair of lascivious eyes. The pan upwards revealed a sweet, pointed nose, and a mole to the left side of that nose.

Dean froze, watching. The kid’s eyes opened when the camera was still on his face, pupils darting nervously away, and those eyes were hazel green. A specific kind of hazel green that Dean had spent exactly thirty-six years looking at.

readers note: obsessed with the way Dean hunts down the guy Sam did porn with 21 years ago or so it's so canonically dean like that's exactly what he would do

[lambmotifz]

who even wants this spn reboot…they should just make a spin off about weechesters based on “flowers in the impala” by evandar on ao3

[mirpuzzle]

♥️. What drew the knight to the necromancer?

Here's my piece for @ygorarepairs 24/25 ♡ I had the pleasure of working with the talented Evandar (AO3), who turned this scene into an enchanting, romantic fic ♡ ✦. [ Read on AO3 ]

♡ Evandar's AO3 | [X] | Dreamwidth

(The fic has the art in better quality ♥)

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Stabilize, pt. 3 (Multi-part story, extended war timeline)

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 (you are here) // PART 4

Overall Summary: What should have just been an outreach mission to help heal and treat citizens of a recently captured city goes wrong. Arya finds herself tossed into her own mind with little to no control over anything around her, watching confused and in pain as the world whips by. Outside her body, Eragon, Saphira, Glen, Blödhgarm and the other spellcaster guards work franticly to stabilize her, uniting as a family Eragon and Saphira had not quite realized had formed around them.

(Pt. 3 A/N: Let's get some fluids on board and some blood circulating in the right places rather than onto the floor, yeah? Eragon comes to and finds that the elven guard is already hard at work, while Arya gets another visit from a familiar yet...not so familiar face.

More medical stuff and some Dream State for you all. Hope you like drop ins from family members!)

~~~

MODERN INHERITANCE: STABILIZE, PT. 3: DRIP

The next thing Eragon knew were firm hands guiding him to sit against…cabinets? Cabinets, yes, those were cabinets, his vision fading in from a gray haze. A cup was being pressed into his hands, Saphira calling out to him as he curled in on himself and put his head between his knees. He couldn’t stop shivering, the lukewarm water sloshing out of the mug and onto his hands. Sticky. Bloodstained.

Saphira was a galeforce that nearly bowled him over as he tried to bring the juddering rim to his lips. ‘Little One! Please, answer me.’

Lifting his head made lights surge behind Eragon’s closed lids. He could hear the rise and fall of voices working together in the Ancient Language, spells for repair and clearing and binding. ‘What happened?’ He did his best to sip the water without spilling it, barely managing half a mouthful at the awkward angle.

Worry fluttered and flitted around every edge of his consciousness, Saphira fretting over him like some lost hatchling. ‘You went blank. Your mind was slate. I could touch and speak to you, but you did not respond.’ The sensation of her wings pulling him against her chest, tail wrapping heavy around his legs. ‘Angela said it was a grey out from the stress.’

‘Grey–’ The cup dropped to the floor as Eragon bolted to his feet. “Arya!”

“Shut up and sit down!” Angela’s snapped command was unnecessary. Colors and light swirled, and Eragon found himself fumbling for the edge of the sink as he groaned and lowered himself back down. His arms and legs were lead, his eyes pounding with his pulse. “We’re working on her. Stay there until you’re useful.”

Four of the gathered elves were seated at the table’s benches, Yaela and Laufin the only ones still standing. The silver haired woman was slipping something around her arm, lips a thin line of focus while her black haired counterpart unraveled loops of IV tubing. They moved so smoothly that it took a dark liquid filling the line for Eragon’s still hazy brain to comprehend that Laufin had deftly slipped and taped a needle into Yaela’s arm, repeating the process to an access port in place at Arya’s elbow. An IV bag already hung crinkled and wrung empty from a peg behind Angela’s head, the tubing still leaking minuscule drops of clear liquid to the floor.

Yaela caught him staring and gave a small smile. “Arya and I matched blood type during the Queen’s selection process.” She nodded towards the rest of her kin at the table, their heads bowed as they murmured spells and fed energy into the mess of broken vessels and torn veins that were sapping away Arya’s strength. “Each of us has at least one match among ourselves. It was considered wise in case of emergencies such as these.”

He nodded numbly. Eyes still flaring in jolts, he dragged his bloodied hands down his face and winced as something tacky slipped at his cheek. He pulled them away and swallowed hard at the slick of still-wet blood and scrubbed a somewhat clean cuff of his sleeve against the patch of his face. The smear in the splatter by Angela’s feet told him all he needed to know.

Angela. Right, she was taking control of the situation. Arya would be fine, she had to be, and Angela would make it happen. Even now she was standing at the head of the table, holding a bag mask firmly over Arya’s mouth and nose while squeezing in regular, steady intervals.

“Do you want me to intubate her?” Laufin’s voice was nearly buried under the spells being cast, his head close to Angela’s. “We have the supply for it.”

“No. No, not yet.” The witch sighed and nodded downward where Arya’s mangled ribs were rising and falling with each forced breath. “Just keeping her lung from collapsing is what I’m doing for now. We’ll need all our hands free soon, though. I have a diffusion spell that can oxygenate her blood while we heal the bones and remove this piece without all the shifting, but it’s a tricky thing. I can’t hold it for long without risking a full collapse.”

“Put a sphere of increased pressure.” Eragon grunted as he slowly hauled himself up. He could feel Angela watching him rise from the corner of her eye, but she did not admonish him. “Increase the concentration of oxygen, compress the air further in a set rhythm.” Saphira fed energy into him as a wave of nausea surged at the sight of beads of blood trickling down Arya’s side. “We’ll breathe for her still. Just have to keep her airway open and clear.”

Laufin nodded slowly, his eyes going wide for a moment. “Improvised ventilator.”

“Yes.” Eragon gave him a wan smile, grateful the man had understood him. “Yes, exactly. Don’t need to keep bagging.”

“It’ll work for now. I’ll keep the diffusion spell in reserve for the bone healing.” Angela touched the dark eyed elf’s shoulder. “Help him shape it. And Yaela, for star’s sake, sit down! Are you the only one with her blood type?”

Eragon was across the room in less than a moment as he saw Yaela’s shoulders tremble. He just managed to catch her under her arms with a soft “Whoa, easy,” as her knees buckled.

“Forgive me.” The silver haired woman mumbled as Laufin quickly stood from his seat at the bench and helped his commander ease his teammate to sit with her back resting against the bloodied table. “I am…fine. Simply dizzy.”

“That’s enough out of you.” Angela chided. “Quite literally.” Even as she spoke aloud, Eragon could feel the threads of the magic she wove changing without so much as a hitch. To both speak aloud and cast wordless magic at once was frightening. Though, of course, it was Angela doing it. The impossible and the terrifying seemed to bend to her will as easily as wilted daffodils.

Yaela weakly protested, free hand coming up to clasp at Laufin where he was closing the flow regulator, but Angela cut her off. “No, I don’t need one of you bleeding out to save the other. Again, are you the only one in the group with Arya’s blood type?”

It was Amaris who spoke up when Yaela simply stared blankly, the rich tone of her voice like warm water flowing over smooth stones. “I am universal. As is Uthinarë. If someone can take my place here then I am more than willing to donate.”

“You’ll do. Auggie’s shorter than you, we’ll keep him as a backup.” A flicker of a frown passed over the witch’s brow, the tip of her tongue peeking out between tensed lips. “The bleeding is slowing. We shouldn’t have to push you so hard, and we have three more bags of Ringer’s to supplement besides.”

“We’re halfway through patching.” Glenwing’s voice was far softer than before, though a hint of that former panic remained. Eragon placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, a gentle flex under his palm filled with unspoken gratitude. “Once that’s done, we should…should give her a chance to rest. While she’s stable enough.”

“Agreed.” Blödhgarm was watching Eragon from under his furred brow, fingertips gently resting against Arya’s abdomen. “We will need to do the removal and healing in shifts. We cannot leave Eragon and Saphira completely bereft of protection.”

Eragon carefully sat at the far end of the table, trading places with Amaris as she began setting up another transfusion line. He knew they would not let him argue against them saving energy for him and Saphira, not when it was their main purpose and certainly not when Arya’s future wrath at leaving them defenseless loomed. It had to, she was getting better, Angela and Glen said as much, right?

“As long as she’s stable.” He tucked his head down and began searching his mind for the proper words to form the spell he had devised, Saphira lending her help when she could. Air was her domain after all, its changes and shifts through magic and nature some of her favorite lessons with Glaedr and Oromis.

Once he had the phrases ready he checked them with Laufin, the elf mulling over them for a handful of seconds before giving his approval. Angela let Eragon take her place, watching carefully with two fingertips resting on the injured woman’s ribs to feel for the rush of air into her lungs.

And when she felt it, Angela finally gave Eragon a true, broad smile, small hand squeezing his bicep. “Well done, Eragon.”

“It worked?” His mouth felt dry despite the little water he had taken in earlier. Arya still looked so pale. He couldn’t help himself and carefully brushed stray fringes back from her forehead, other hand resting against her cheek and thumb tracing the contours of her face. Her skin was clammy, tiny ripples of warmth arising with the miniscule shivers coursing through her body before it faded to coolness against his fingers.

“It worked.” Another brief squeeze, her tone gentle. She could feel him shaking, relief and trepidation mingling into one convoluted rush. And she didn’t need him passing out again. “Sit. Help the others.”

Glenwing’s mind was a carefully sealed fortress when Eragon took his place beside him. It took only a brush against his barriers for the elf to let him entangle their energy together, carefully reached out a metaphorical hand to allow Eragon access to the weave of word and magic that the one armed elf was working with.

Glen had been correct about the bleeding. It was less than before, but there was still a steady stream around each piece of debris. Eragon could see the dark lines of free flowing blood in his mind’s eye with each pulse of Glen’s soundwave spell, and with a gentleness of speech he did his best to connect broken vessels back together, held veins steady for Glen to merge them. Healing as detailed as this had never been his strong suit, not when Glen or Blödhgarm had been so helpful throughout the years, but now he found the lessons from Oromis and the medic a true boon to his work.

Saphira lent him energy when she felt him flagging even slightly, a tendril of thought still tagged to him while her focus turned to ensuring the guards that had come from the Varden’s camp collected every piece of evidence around the mage’s body. Some wary workers from the city had arrived as well, collecting broken cobblestones and carting them into organized piles. Only one of them was brave enough to work near Saphira, and to her half buried amusement he was using the back of a long handled street broom to drag pieces of rubble towards himself from areas closest to her glittering form.

A tiny grin flickered Eragon’s lips as his partner choked a snarl at one of the workers. The poor man had bent to pick up Wyrda from the broken ground, and with a warning hiss Saphira reached out one long claw and snagged the fallen sword. She dragged it over the stones to rest, protected and secure, between her two paws and tucked it under the edge of her chest. Like some massive cat pinning a favorite toy under her body for safe keeping.

‘Arya will need her favorite fate-claw back.’ Saphira grumbled softly. ‘I’ll have to tell her you left it on the ground.’

Eragon knew she was trying to bring some form of ease to his mind. The rush of fear was draining as their war sister came closer to stabilizing, not quite out of danger but inching further and further from sudden death with each passing moment. And despite the tightness in his chest, the worry he could still feel fretting behind his Partner of Heart and Mind’s barriers…her teasing threat had him crack a genuine smile.

‘I’m sure Arya will understand why I left it in the moment.’ Eragon delicately connected two more broken vessels, clearing away a forming clot. ‘When we have a second, I’ll bring the sheath out. Could you hold on to it for now?’

She sniffed, as if the question was a clear insult. ‘Of course. I am a dragon. Protecting shiny things is my greatest pastime, or so your little human stories say.’

‘Arya will bring you a proper horde as payment.’

‘Bah! Too much to carry.’ Eragon could feel the dismissive flick that Saphira did with her head, so akin in motion and meaning to the one he did with his hand. ‘She can pay me back with keeping her insides inside for the next two days at least.’

The mock scorn of the dragon’s voice faded, words coming soft as she risked a quick glance through her Rider’s eyes. ‘...How is she?’

Eragon swallowed. ‘Pale. And cold. Yaela already gave nearly three pints of blood, and Amaris is giving more, but at this rate they’re both going to be down for a while unless we control the bleeding better as we remove these things.’ The mere thought of inching out the multitude of debris embedded in Arya’s body while simultaneously healing and preventing further bleeds made his stomach clench. ‘Angela and the others agreed that this is…this isn’t going to be done all at once. Arya’s body needs to stabilize between each stage, and we’re going to need to rest as well.’

A soft, low rumble vibrated through the ground, tingling at the base of Eragon’s boots. Saphira’s deeper thoughts flickered past for the briefest of moments, frustration and a sharp wish for the injured elf to simply shake off the wounds with a bared-tooth, feral grin and hop up as she typically did dragging against his mind. The emotions were quickly subdued, replaced by uneasy acceptance. ‘If it is the safest option, then they are wise to follow such a plan.’

“That’s it.” Wyrden gripped the table with a rough exhale, his shoulders tense. “That should be it. All the major bleeds are healed, and a few others besides.”

“Yes.” Blödhgarm’s voice was equally tense. “I took the liberty of decreasing the swelling. As long as your spells hold, Eragon, then we have a moment to breathe.”

Eragon waited for Glenwing to disengage his magic from his own and pulsed a quick, comforting brush of his mind to the one-armed medic before nodding to the others. “If Angela is sure–”

“Yes, yes.” The small witch flapped her hands at the lot of them, head still bent and eyes still locked on Arya’s chest as it rose and fell. “Go. Twenty minutes will give her time to adjust to the transfusions and settle this bloody heart rate. Solembum is bringing my materials for the next stage.” Never looking up, she first gestured vaguely in Amaris’ direction, then Laufin’s. “You, unhook yourself, take Yaela to lay down and both get fluids. I’ll hang another bag of Ringer’s solution, it’ll tie her over for now. And you, Laufy, take Auggie with you and get some of that fortifying drink you lot keep in your tents. The medicinal ones, not the party ones.” Laufin’s mouth opened as if to protest the nickname, then promptly clicked shut at the order. “Well? Go! Scram! Scatter to the wind! Do I need to repeat myself? Honestly! You children these days!”

Eragon offered Laufin an apologetic shrug when the elf looked to him for confirmation, though inwardly he felt a twinge of relief. Angela’s commands cut through the haze of worry clinging to his thoughts, her sharpness grounding. He couldn’t have picked a better pair if he were honest. Laufin and Uthinarë were the fastest of the elven guard, and even with the added weight of several heavy jugs of fortified Faelnirv they would have no trouble in making it to and from the Varden’s camp in the designated time.

The small group dispersed to their tasks. Blödhgarm excused himself to confer with the spellcasters left outside, while Wyrden began clearing away the used gauze and linens, separating them out to burn and clean respectively. Angela began setting up an IV bag, muttering to herself and the unconscious elf under her care the whole while.

Glenwing seemed content where he was, quietly staring off with shoulders hunched. He nodded only slightly when Eragon patted his back and mumbled that he was fine at a gentle question after his state, flickering a wan smile the Rider’s way.

“Do you know where they put her gear?” Eragon whispered. He didn’t quite know why. Arya was deep in magic induced sleep, probably teetering on the edge of slipping into the Dream State if she wasn’t already in the metabolic trance. “Saphira found Wyrda and is going to start collecting more shiny things if we let her sit on it too long.” His chuckle was forced, though the slight grin was genuine.

The joke was enough to strengthen the smile still trembling at Glenwing’s lips. “Can’t have that, can we? She’s already eyed my arm a bit too greedily for my tastes.” He lifted the hand not stroking a thumb along his war sister’s scarred knuckles and pointed with a mechanical finger towards the space Blödhgarm had vacated. “Under that bench.”

As Eragon knelt to disentangle the shoulder harness Arya used to keep Wyrda sheathed at her back for travel, Glen cleared his throat. “Hey, be careful going outside,” he said, his golden eyes weary when Eragon looked up. “She’d cuff me upside the head if I didn’t say that. And, uh… you just have to pull the clips at the rotation points.”

Eragon glanced back down, a helpless little laugh escaping him. Glen was right—two sliding pucks along the strap held securing clips fastened at the rotation points. He tested the mechanism, gripping the sheath and belt firmly. With a bit of applied force, the sheath rotated a full ninety degrees, then swung back smoothly, clicking into place once he released it.

“I wondered how she manages to draw Wyrda from over her shoulder so quickly,” Eragon said, shaking his head as he worked the clips free. “She’s always moved too fast for me to catch it.” With a final twist and a bit of pressure against the clips, the sheath popped free of the contraption. “Thanks. I’d have been here all day trying to figure this out.”

“No problem.” Glen’s grin sobered. “Really. Be careful. I know Saphira and the others are outside, but stay alert.”

“I will.” Eragon placated, gently touching the elf on the shoulder on his way to the door. “Call me if there’s any change.”

“Of course.”

Falling.

That’s what it felt like. Falling straight down when direction and gravity didn’t exist.

If physical form existed here, Arya would have cursed and coughed and swore at her impact with the dusty packed earth. As it was she stared up at the canvas hanging over her head, chest still tight, mental form wheezing as her body struggled for breath. Some things transitioned over. Not always. But the worst typically did.

Take a few moments. Could be minutes or hours out there. Just. Collect her thoughts. Everything was a jumbled mess, her physical form an utter wreck to the point that it refused to let her back in for the time being. Not even to check. That had never happened before. Not even when Glen had her practice.

When nothing was forthcoming, thoughts muddled, Arya winced and carefully rolled first to her stomach, then quickly onto hands and knees before finally staggering upright. Her surroundings were the same as always, a standard issue Varden tent with a few sparse pieces of furniture. A cot, a camp stool. And, like the one time before–

“Hey, Stringbean.” The voice was gentle, filled with warmth and an aching sort of longing love. Filled with outstretched arms, waiting embraces, tight hugs and an appreciation only known to those who never would be there again, who knew what they lost. “Another rough one, huh?”

Arya turned. Felt something deep in her chest relax. She was already taking the steps to him, arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as an upwelling of confusion and worry and ache filled the newfound space.

“Da.” Her voice, not really there and not really real, was muffled in that fine tunic of his, the same one she had clutched to while curled against Evandar’s cold side on the funeral dias. Her fingers scrunched in it once more, clinging to the comfort she so desperately needed but still couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“Da, I’m sorry. I think I got hurt and– I’m– I’m lost, and I can’t– I don’t–” She pressed harder against him, shivering as a wave of cold swept from the tethers to her body. Even though she wasn’t dwarfed by the elven king’s height as many others were, having him here suddenly made her feel very small again. 

Arya forced her voice into a whisper, struggling to keep the emotions in check where they raged, confused and whipping around like untamed cables snapped in a gale, just below their feet. “Da, I think I’m dying again and I don’t know what’s happening. My friends...they're in danger. I need to get back.”

Evandar hummed, gently rocking his daughter in his arms and rubbing soothing circles between her shoulders. “It’s alright, kiddo. You got hurt. Your friends are going to put you right, okay?” He pulled back and gently tucked wild fringes away from Arya’s face, remembering with a pang that his own hair had the same messy habit when he was far younger. She looked so scared in that moment, unable to fully comprehend the jumbled memories and flashes that her rattled mind was trying to feed her in heavy drips and drops. He could catch snippets, saw them from the outside, understood the general path that had led her here. “Don’t worry, now. Your friends are safe, they’re making sure you’re going to make it through.”

Arya was shivering. “...You promise? They’re safe?” Her grip on his shoulders felt weaker than before, and Evandar eased them both to sit on the cot. His child did not protest when he tugged her legs over his and tucked her head to his chest, cradling her close as he had all those decades ago.

“I promise, Stringbean.” He wrapped her in his arms and cursed his lack of warmth, pressed apologetic lips to the side of her head. “King’s promise. Your friends are safe. You can recuperate here. I won’t leave you.”

The young elf sniffed once. Grasped the folds of his tunic in her hand again. Still heard and felt no heart beating in his chest. Took comfort only in this memory, this...thing that still defied explanation ever since she remembered him after waking in Tronjheim. Since she asked her mother of the letters, since she asked Blagden of his prophecy.

She nuzzled closer to her father’s chest and decided that once again…once again, she could take a moment in the fevered mania and blood loss addled Dream State to simply…believe in it. For just a moment.

“Okay.”

They sat like that for what could have been five seconds or five days, Evandar’s soft crooning of the cradle song he wrote for her drifting through her mind.

Then:

“Mum said if you ever showed up again to tell you you’re a bastard for leaving when you knew you would die. And that she loves you very much.” Arya paused. “Blagden had some bullshit to say too, but I ignored him. He was being a prick.”

Evandar just laughed, and held his daughter closer.

[elronds-library]

Winter in Erebor

by Evandar 

Part 10 of Tolkien Drabbles

Winter here is far colder than anything that the Shire has experienced since the Fell Winter, but Bilbo barely feels it.

General, No Archive Warnings

Words: 141

[saintsenara]

more @hprecfest!

day twenty-six: a fic under 5000 words long

dance the night away (aka it's true love, you bastards) by evandar draco malfoy/ron weasley explicit | 3.6k words

why i recommend it:

because i was shocked to discover it fitted this prompt - it packs so much in that it feels much longer - and because its premise is an extremely funny run of escalating disasters for ron which end up accidentally working out.

[aka: everything the dron hive likes to see.]

[transfemmesam]

as a new wincestie do you have any fic recommendations :0 i like long fics but shorter fics are great too!!

hi welcome!! glad to have you here :D these are some of my personal favorite fics, not necessarily fandom classics, but i hope you enjoy them!! under a cut because there ended up being a lot

half the man i used to be by dollylux

preseries, John finds out. rated M, 2k words

flowers in the impala by Evandar

canon-divergent preseries, outside pov. rated M, 2k words

try asking by applecrumbledore

outside pov exploration of wincest. rated T, 7k words

he’ll follow me down every street, no matter what my crime by according2thelore

rewrite of 02x14, featuring meg!sam. rated M, 17k words

brother’s blood by diana_luciferia and stormageddon

pre-season 1 au, exploring the hunt in New Orleans mentioned in the pilot. rated T, 107k words

lesser evils by Dyed_Red

rewrite of 05x01, “the bad guys made them do it”. rated E, 9k words

pine sweat by applecrumbledore

season 5 canon divergence, time travel. rated E, 105k words

burn the witch by urchinesque

season 10 casefic, sam is learning witchcraft on the downlow. rated E, 80k words

fall asleep in your branches by margareyes

cis girl!sam, canon divergent pregnancy au. not for everyone but it’s an amazing read. rated E, 6k words

good by lovetheirloves

canon-compliant, sam has a praise kink. rated E, 7k words.

love is control (i’ll die if i let go) by anonymous [aka yours truly <33 couldn’t let this list end without any self-promo]

preseries, cis girl!sam with some outside pov. rated M, 3k words

~~~

alright i think that’s enough!! if you want to, lmk what you think of these fics :D welcome to the fandom!!

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Remus/Sirius Romance Masterlist | Works With Less Than 5k Words

find the full masterlist directory here

last updated: 09/10/24 | links last checked: 09/10/24

*A Proposal by Bob_The_Other_Zombie [G, 2k]

Sirius has a love problem and asks James for advice. What happens when you add in pregnant Lily, pantsless Peter, candles, one pot of nearly-boiled water, snogging, Remus’ favorite record, multiple unknown kitchen devices, and a very bad pun? One very confused werewolf, is what!

A Sirius Case of Jealousy by WolfstarPups90 [T, 1k]

Remus has a new job and Sirius has a bit of a jealousy issue.

all alone on the edge of seventeen by nikkiRA [T, 3k]

He is seventeen and in love.

All I Want For Christmas by REwrites [T, 2k]

Sirius chews the inside of his cheek as he stares down a row of Christmas cards in the shop around the corner for his office and tries not to feel like the world’s biggest arse. He wishes he hadn’t waited to the last minute to do this, but when he pulled Remus Lupin’s name out of the hat for the office-wide Secret Santa exchange he’d panicked. A short story in which Sirius is awkward, Remus is sneaky, and James is no help at all.

And When You Get the Choice by iamsiriusblackserious [T, 3k]

After weeks of studying for and sitting their NEWT exams, Sirius finally gets some quality time with his boyfriend. That is, if Remus can actually manage to stay awake. Winding down after NEWTs, slow dancing but not really, and symbolic key bequeathing.

between the moon and the stars by llassah [M, 2k]

The summer before their sixth year, and everything changes and stays the same.

*Caught by Phiso [G, 4k]

Sirius Black was the thief no one could catch – at least, not until he met his match in Detective Inspector Remus Lupin.

Chocolate Love by therunawaypen [T, 1k]

After serving a night in detention, Sirius brings back a sweet treat for Remus to enjoy while he's studying. If Sirius enjoys it too, all the better.

*Drunk on Love by muse_in_absentia [T, 4k]

Post second war AU in which Remus cheats at baking, Padfoot plays in the snow, and Christmas jumpers combined with mulled wine may lead to something old becoming something new.

*Ever After by busaikko [T, 3k]

Non-magic AU. Once upon a time, an astrophysicist was wooed by the gay Scheherazade. . . (podfic available)

*Finest in Fairford by bluepeony [G, 4k]

Remus Lupin's job in a Fairford coffee shop is always uneventful, until an exotic new customer begins leaving messages with his tips.

*Fiery-Coloured World by orphan_account [M, 2k]

And though Remus had a thick jumper and coat, they were still soaked and frozen as they ran across the pavement, laughing with their cold fingers clinging to each other like it was Noah’s bloody flood and they were about to be swept away. Then someone—Sirius was never sure who, though he often liked to take credit for it—closed the distance and lips met lips. And that was all it took, really. Besotted. Smitten. Twitterpated—the word Remus liked most of all. Sirius knew it would be minutes, moments, seconds before his heart told him he was in love and there was no going back from the emotional tidal wave that was Remus bloody Lupin.

Friends, Lovers, and Various Permutations Thereof by Tillikins [T, 2k]

Celebrating the end of NEWTs! Sirius asks Remus to room with him after school.

Honey by Evandar [T, 1k]

Sirius’ reality has changed. And while he’s never needed sex to know that he loves Remus, now that they’ve done it, the world seems more concrete.

*Longsdune by imochan [T, 3k]

He supposes that this is what is expected of him, to sit here and listen to wetness sinking into the earth and remember how it felt when it was sunny, and there were four of them, and Sirius Black looked at him like he was a piece of the universe he wanted to understand so badly that he was willing to take Remus apart completely and then put him back together.

*Love Online by NeonDomino [T, 2k]

Sirius is in love and wants nothing more than to finally hold his on-line boyfriend in his arms. James is convinced that Remus is really a fifty-year-old man who is misleading Sirius and refusing to meet because Sirius would find out the truth. The truth is much more simple. Remus is in love, but scared that if Sirius finds out how much time he spends in hospital, Sirius would leave him.

More Than You Could Possibly Know by WolfstarPups90 [T, 1k]

They were twenty years old, and they were in love and they should be together every single night like this instead of out fighting, unsure if the other was still alive or if they would come back.

*Of Tinsel and Nice Starts by nerakrose [G, 2k]

Mysterious clouds and strange coffee abounds. Office romance.

Self-Insert by Wereflamingo [T, 1k]

Remus and Sirius both write self-insert fics in the same fandom. One day Sirius asks to borrow Remus's OC for his new fic. What could he possibly be planning, and what is the mystery pairing he promised to introduce?

Shade of the Morning Sun by MidniteMarauder [T, 3k]

It's Boxing Day, 1977, the morning after the full moon, and Lily accidentally finds out about Remus' 'furry little problem'.

Sirius Possibilities, aka The Logic of Sirius by Tpants [T, 3k]

Sirius buys a "cottage" for Remus and him. Obviously, there is a lot of work to do and Sirius has some high expectations.

Someone To Love by lumosinlove [T, 1k]

Sirius trips, Remus catches him, and maybe they won't have to spend Christmas alone this year.

*The Day by DevBasaa [T, 2k]

Sometimes the worst day can turn out perfect in the end. Written for a "Promise Ring" challenge, set Marauders' Era, summer before 7th year.

*You Were My Spring, My Summer Too by RS_Games [T, 3k]

When Sirius receives news that things have gone very wrong on an assignment, he heads north to bring Remus home.

*denotes personal favorite

[hpsaffics]

🧛‍♀️ WLW Wed: Vampires (Part 2) 🧛‍♀️

A jointly compiled HP femslash rec list made by the lovely members of the HP SAFFICS discord server. See all previous rec lists in the WLW Library on Tumblr or AO3!

Currently: Vampires (see part 1) Previously: Ginmione (see list)

—

🩸 SUPER SHORT (1000-2000) 🩸

Tainted and Enchanted by Ninabnormal [Pandora/Lily, G, 1.8k]

A dark creature falls for the light. or. Lily evans is a vampire in love with a faery

We Need To Talk by Evandar [Lavender/Pansy, T, 1.4k]

"We need to talk" is a phrase no one likes to hear, but it doesn’t always mean bad news. Lavender certainly thinks that Pansy’s announcement deserves some later exploration.

hiding all our sins from the daylight by moonytoastandbowie [Dorcas/Lily, M, 1.2k]

Together in life and together in death. (Vampire!Lily and Vampire hunter!Dorcas)

cruciatus curse & calming droughts by @evadwrites [Bellatrix/Pansy, T, 1.2k]

Madame Lestrange always makes a home in Pansy’s mind as she chips away at the edges of her consciousness and steals bits and pieces of Pansy’s treasured-hunted sanity, and Pansy melts into her too-tight embrace, into the kisses that taste of hunger for peace of mind.

i’m starving, darling (let me put my lips to something) by uselessm4gics [Mary/Lily, M, 1.1k]

It’s a hunger that will never be satiated, the need to be like this with her, to give herself to Mary without any qualms. Good thing they have until the end of time.

The Black Dahlia by @lumosatnight [Ginny/Mrs Zabini, M, 1.0k]

Ginny Weasley, the newest member of the Supernatural Crimes Unit, is determined to catch the Black Dhalia, the elusive head of the largest vampire faction in Sicily, but not for the reason everyone thinks.

—

🩸 SUPER DUPER SHORT (200-1000) 🩸

a dark staircase; far too many teeth by @fantasyborn [Bellatrix/Pandora, M, 810]

Luna knows she isn’t supposed to go into the basement but sometimes curiosity kills the cat.

Vampire Touch by @siriusly-sapphic [Narcissa/Dorcas, T, 580]

It's an easy choice to make, letting a vampire overpower her. Narcissa barely hesitates.

Reunion by @lipzlipzlipz [Fleur/Hermione, G, 500]

Fleur has led a dark existence since losing her wife twenty years ago.

vampire lover by @picklesonjupiter [Walburga/Eileen, M, 424]

It was after sunset when vampires came out to hunt prey... Rare humans who invited vampires into their homes sought out the aphrodisiac bite. Society called them whores, but those humans were the sole reason there were no starving vampires rampaging.

—

🩸 DRABBLES & MICROFICS (<200) 🩸

For Research by @unmistakablyoatmeal [Millicent/Hermione, M, 200]

Hermione is willing to do whatever it takes for her research.

Ravenous by @thistlecatfics [Bellatrix/Lily, M, 200]

Despite the midnight hour, the heat of the day lingered as Bellatrix flew to the single house in Cokeworth containing anything of value. The girl had left her window open.

big red eyes by @iammyownsaviour [Narcissa/Lily, T, 155]

No witch is powerful enough for what a vampire's red eyes are capable of. Narcissa's glad that Lily isn't an exception.

Always Remember by @herochicklyrrie007 [Hannah/Roxanne, T, 50]

A bite, a nibble, a nip

—

⚰️ Want more femslash vampires? ⚰️

@hpbloodlust | AO3

Vampires: Tag on AO3

WLW Library: Tumblr | Tag | AO3

[dracomort]

What are your favourite Draco fics that aren’t drarry?

I've recced a couple of dron and dreville fics here

For some additional recs that I couldn't fit in that list:

Neville/Draco

The Ugly Duckling and the Peacock by Vukovich

“Aye,” Hagrid said, nodding somberly. “Yer a Veela, Draco. Well, a bit."

Ron/Draco

Dance the Night Away (aka. It's True Love, you Bastards) by Evandar

It wasn’t Malfoy’s fault that Ron asked him to the Ball as a joke and then chickened out of admitting it. Everything else, however, is Malfoy’s fault. All of it. Except…Ron really can’t bring himself to care.

Resting With the Enemy by Lokifan

(Pre-)eighth-year hurt/comfort. Ron’s used to obsessive people, but this is something else.

Archipelago by Mad_Maudlin

There's a difference between being lonely and being alone. Draco Malfoy is alone. Ron Weasley is quite probably insane.

Sirius/Draco

Stay by gypsyflame

War is coming, and Narcissa is scared for Draco. So she turns to the only person she can think of – Sirius Black.

[newtonsheffield]

I am So curious about Arya’s father TBH

Islanzadi is terrifying frankly, most of the time but the way everyone talks about Evandar he sounds like a bit of a sweetheart. Like he blessed a raven who saved him one day.

I just know him and Islanzadi were like Sunshine and Thundercloud and I think that might be why Islanzadi gets scared and frustrated with Arya sometimes: She reminds her of the man she loved who died for the same convictions their daughter has now.

[danpuff-ao3]

@hprecfest: an unreliable narrator fic

Dead Boys

by Evandar. Barty Jr (Moody)/Harry, Barty Jr/Regulus. Rated: M. Words: 1,072. Underage. Student/teacher. Consent issues.

Harry Potter reminds Barty too much of his old lover. He’s not a good enough man to be able to resist.

This is one of those stories that has burrowed itself deep in my brain. It's so dark and dirty and fucked up and delicious.