#hp muse masterlist

[doremimosasol]

Masterlist ⋆⭒˚.⋆

���౨ৎ˚⟡. c.ai bots

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡. headcanons

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡. oneshots

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡. moodboards

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡. some other stuff

Find my c.ai account by clicking here <3

Find my Wattpad account by clicking here <3

Find my TikTok account by clicking here <3

DISCLAIMER ABOUT REQUESTS

Character.ai bots .𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡

• Mattheo Riddle (hp)

Found him by the astronomy tower

Death Eater meeting at your family’s house

An unexpected encounter in the common room

A walk through the woods

Seeking for some quiet at the Black Lake

Ghostface au (requested)

Seven minutes in heaven

College au (requested)

Made him mad

Divination class (requested)

After Quidditch practice

Hunger Games au (requested)

Brother’s best friend (requested)

Jealous (requested)

Enemies to… (requested)

A cat? (requested)

Destroying horcruxes

Professor Riddle (requested)

Let it (not) snow (requested)

Library

Happy New Year!

The flu (requested)

Little lion (requested)

Arranged marriage (requested)

Don’t talk to him

Riddle

Valentine’s Day

Death Eater mask

You belong to me

He got into a fight (requested)

Cuddles (requested)

Violent books (requested)

Big boss (requested) (yet to come)

Three Broomsticks (requested)

Hockey au (requested)

A little bit older… (requested)

Back to Hogwarts

Academic rivals (requested) (yet to come)

Toxic (requested) (yet to come)

Soulmate (requested) (yet to come)

Just a bet (requested)

• Theodore Nott (hp)

Tension

Cleaning his wounds (requested)

Jealous (requested)

Friends with…

The red string (requested)

A little bit older… (requested)

Little (golden) snitch (requested)

Ghostface au (requested)

Academic rivals (requested)

Player (requested)

• Lorenzo Berkshire (hp)

One kiss?

Ghostface au (requested)

Quiet common room

Flashcards

Piercer (requested) (yet to come)

His muse (yet to come)

• Tom Riddle (hp)

The ring

Liar

Tutor (requested)

The Chamber of Secrets

Co-prefect

Ghostface au (requested)

• Professor Tom Riddle (hp)

Legilimency

• Blaise Zabini (hp)

Late night snack (yet to come)

• Draco Malfoy (hp)

Firewhisky

Written in the stars (requested) (yet to come)

Sleepy (requested) (yet to come)

• Regulus Black (hp)

Partners in class (requested)

• Slytherin boys groupchat (hp)

(yet to come)

• Minho (tmr)

You’re a med-Jack

• Niragi Suguru (aib)

The new nurse

• Coriolanus Snow (thg)

(yet to come)

• Finnick Odair (thg)

Quarter Quell training

• Luke Castellan (pjo)

Hot summer training (requested)

• Simon Ghost Riley (cod)

(yet to come)

• Drew Wrigley (tml)

(yet to come)

Headcanons .𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡

Pain(ed) - Mattheo Riddle

Christmas - Mattheo Riddle (requested)

Ravenclaw!reader - Mattheo Riddle (requested)

Hufflepuff!reader - Mattheo Riddle (requested)

Slytherin!reader - Mattheo Riddle (requested)

Gryffindor!reader - Mattheo Riddle (requested)

A little bit older… - Theodore Nott (requested)

She’s off-limits - Theodore Nott (requested) (yet to come)

Just to make them jealous? - Draco Malfoy (requested) (yet to come)

Stay over for the Holidays - Draco Malfoy (requested) (yet to come)

Filthy mudblood - Draco Malfoy (requested) (yet to come)

Oneshots ˖˚☽˚｡

Pain(ed) - Mattheo Riddle

Pain(ed) - Mattheo Riddle blurb

Pain(ed) - Mattheo Riddle pt2 (yet to come)

Through the years - Mattheo Riddle

Marked - Tom riddle

To heaven and back - Theodore Nott

Drunk promises - Mattheo Riddle

Roses in silver lining - Tom Riddle

Little secret - Mattheo Riddle

Afterglow - Mattheo Riddle

Drabbles ˖

#1 - Mattheo Riddle

Gifs .𖥔 ݁ ˖

Mattheo Riddle | Marcus Lopez

Moodboards .𖥔 ݁ ˖

The Slytherin boys are pretty but…

Harry Potter characters

Harry Potter pets

Dating Mattheo Riddle

Dating Theodore Nott

Dating Tom Riddle

Dating Lorenzo Berkshire

Dating Remus Lupin (yet to come)

Dating Regulus Black (yet to come)

Dating James Potter (yet to come)

Dating Draco Malfoy (yet to come)

Dating Sirius Black (yet to come)

Dating Barty Crouch Jr (yet to come)

[sitp-recs]

What rec or reclist have you most enjoyed doing in 2024? :)

Thank you for the ask! I didn’t feel particularly creative or inspired last year, but these definitely hold a special place in my heart:

- HP rec fest: I joined last minute and had a blast! Wish I had had more time to plan and add rarepair recs, but I sill had a lot of fun and it was a great way to re-connect with the fandom

- last year I started my 5th and last masterlist, and the autumn recs were my favorite! I adored this prompt and was able to include fics I don’t rec often, which is always a treat

- I also found my long gone muse and wrote my first individual rec in ages, for @eleadore’s scorching a/b/o. a couple days later I did another rec for the breathtaking Wield Me, to celebrate @tackytigerfic’s birthday. that one was prob my favourite rec of the year. so nice to feel the reccing thrill again!!!

- oh and a special shoutout to this self-indulgent list to celebrate my beloved Teddy Lupin! love any excuse to rec all the rarepair filth 😈

[bardic-tales]

Happy Friday, everyone. I hope you all have a wonderful day today.

Every day, there will be a theme: such as Blorbo Blursday where it is encouraged you go into each other’s ask boxes or even a post on your blog asking about each others’ weekly project or muse.

This group is open to all creators: writers, visuals artists, and readers. It is for those who appreciate these types of creators. All fandoms are welcome. We accept original works, original characters, alternate universe, strict canon, opt, x reader, and so on.

We aim to support, nurture, and cheer on our fellow content creators, as well as give everyone visibility. Different levels of participation are okay. I understand that schedules change, as does health. Participate at any level, as it feels right for you and your heath.

Time to give back to the community. :)

How to participate: Make a post recommending a fic you love from at least a year ago. Dust off the archives, dig through your AO3 history and share those old fics with newer fans who might not have seen them - and the fans who’ve been around forever and might want to revisit an old fave. This doesn't just need to be AO3. It could be right here on Tumblr, etc.

Please make sure that you tag @bardic-tales once you are done with your post, so I can place it on our masterlist.

NOTE: This is open to fan fiction and original work. So, even wordpress blogs, etc, counts.

Our Members' Offereings:

@themaradwrites: stargate-atlantis: off the beaten path

@wyked-ao3: hp & star trek: an unexpected development

@andromedalestrange: all elite wrestling: lacrymosa

@megandaisy9 @watermeezer @sliceoflifeshepard

@nightingaleflowlibrary @kricketbee

@themaradwrites @pinkevilwriter

@serenofroses @asirensrage @aalinaaaaaa @goldenlilium-ocs @glbettwrites

@wyked-ao3 @badscientist @thebadphilosopher @andromedalestrange

@fantastictrashpolice @seastarblue @happypup-kitcat24 @chickensarentcheap @allaboutlov3

To sign up for the Creators’ Club, please see this post on @bardic-tales’ blog about it:

Creators’ Club Tag List

Thank you for your interest, and we look forward in getting to know you and your works.

[songbookff]

Hey!! Now that you're back, could we a get a reminder of what fandoms/ships you write for? I don't wanna be missing out on anything 😉

I know you do Min/Poppy and other sapphic Minerva ships, but I can't remember if Min/(adult)Hermione is something you do or not . . . also curious if you've seen Star Trek Diacovery and would consider writing for Laira/Michael? It's a super rare pair but I LOOOVE them! And I'm pretty sure you have done some star trek before even though not for that series? Idk my memory is terrible and it's been awhile! So glad you're back!

Hello there!

I would say that my most well known works are related to LoK (Kyalin, Linumi, Korrasami, Bopal, Bumizumi, young linzin, and the list goes on).

I do write most anything sapphic for Minerva, although I always headcannon her as bisexual, so I will also write her with men as well. I don't usually write teacher/student relationships, but it's fanfic and I can always mess with ages. As for other HP, I specifically do not write Marauders Era, but otherwise, I'm not too picky about ships.

I love Star Trek and I'm not usually picky about it. I have dabbled a bit in Disco, but my original love is TNG with Crusher/Picard. I also love Seven & Janeway in various saphhic relationships, including with each other. Although I do ship Chakotay/Janeway, I do not ship Chokatay/Seven.

I dabble a bit in Star Wars, specifically Leia/Amilyn Holdo. But I also love Leia/Han. Stormpilot, too. Honestly, the only thing I don't write for Star Wars is Reylo. Sorry, just can't get my writing muses to go with that one. Rey is always asexual to some degree in my mind.

Currently, I'm obsessing over House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones again. Rhaenys Targareyn in my new muse. I worship the Queen Who Never Was. My next few multi-chaptered WIPs will be in the ASOIAF universe.

I have a masterlist of my works, but just because you don't see a ship or fandom there, doesn't mean I won't give it a try. I'm always up for a challenge.

[theofficersacademy]

Piece by piece, Elibe, Valentia, and Jugdral dissolve away. There is no end to your stories. No mystery solved. It all merely disappears like the shattering of a dream, abrupt and uncontrollable.

You awaken in your beds at the Officers Academy as if you had never left. There is no sign of a blizzard, or letters spelling your homelands' demise. The world feels a little too at peace. Were it not for your allies' recounting their own expeditions, you might have been willing to believe that it all had been a dream, but you all remember the same things.

One group brings news of a mysterious girl named Pasithee, child of Celephais and Keranes from the village Rusalka. These illusions had been her creation, though to what end remains unclear. She desires to kill you, but not yet. You bought her time.

Many of you find it difficult to sit with the idea that what you had experienced had been mere illusion, so you choose to rush back to your homelands again to be sure. The trips are uneventful, and the countries are just as how you remembered them before you left for Fódlan.

The people that you met in the illusion, however, still exist, and they remember you.

                                             — Sabbam Vitatham, end.

Closing Procedures (please read carefully!)

The events of Sabbam Vitatham are over! You have all woken up from what you believe had been a very strange and harrowing dream. Everything at the monastery feels too normal.

Time will not reset this year and will transition straight into the Great Tree Moon. Characters who did not participate in the event can choose whether to refresh their characters as new to the academy starting this month, or can continue to write them as if they have been here the whole time. Whichever makes the most sense for your muse.

You are free to continue any Sabbam Vitatham threads you have ongoing, and you may start epilogue threads involving your characters returning to their homelands this month. These posts will no longer count toward the grand prize though.

Discord

All event channels will be closed on September 7th, so save what you want from them before then.

Prizes and How to Get Them

PARTICIPATION PRIZE.

All muses who made at least one IC event post automatically received the participation prize described in this post.

GRAND PRIZE.

The prize package below will be awarded to any muse who reached a minimum of 10 IC event posts.

This includes interactions on the boats as long as they were with other characters also participating in the event.

As a reminder, pre-departure interactions with other muses not on your boats do not count towards the event.

Be sure that your posts have been tagged appropriately.

Grand Prize

Knowledge Gem: A special gemstone that grants a drop of knowledge to the user. (One free skill point towards the user’s skill of choice.)

Two event-limited prizes from this list. (Your muse must have the corresponding rank to claim. Note: All B rank prizes will have solely out-of-combat effects)

And a special item from the land you leave behind: Shield Ring: A Jugdrali ring for those who spent their time in Verdane. Grants a moderate boost to Defense. Barrier Ring: A Jugdrali ring for those who spent their time in Aed. Grants a moderate boost to Resistance. Speedwing: An Elibean feather for those who spent time in Ilia. Grants a moderate boost to Speed. Energy Ring: An Elibean ring for those who spent time in Nabata. Grants a moderate boost to Strength/Magic. Fruit of Life: A Valentian fruit for those who spent time in Zofia. Grants a moderate boost to HP. Nethergranate: A Valentia fruit for those who spent time in Rigel. Grants a moderate boost to Dexterity.

CLAIM SCHEDULE.

Please send the masterlist an ask to claim your event prizes during the allotted days for your team. Claims sent outside their respective windows will be deleted.

9/1-9/2: Dedicated to regular claims. This is if you are ranking up in a skill after placing your August activity skill point into your stats page, mastering classes, etc. This does not include ranks from the Knowledge Gem, so please wait on those. 9/3-9/4: Team Ilia participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/5-9/6: Team Zofia participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/7-9/8: Team Nabata participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/9-9/10: Team Verdane participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/11-9/12: Team Rigel participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/13-9/14: Team Aed participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. After 9/14: Normal claims resume

The submission period is from 12:00AM EST the first day to 11:59PM EST the second day. We at least need to receive it during this time frame. Use the clock in the Masterlist’s sidebar to double check the date and time if you are not sure.

If you miss your window to claim your Participation or Grand Prize, you forfeit these prizes. Do not procrastinate.

If you missed the initial 9/1-9/2 period to rank up after an activity point, or if you claimed your grand prize but forgot to rank up with the Knowledge Gem, please wait until after 9/14 to send in these regular claims.

HOW TO SEND IN CLAIMS.

When sending claims, please send separate asks for event-specific claims and regular claims, even if the regular claim is due to the event (i.e. from ranking up via the Knowledge Gem.)

Event specific claims: all participation prizes (including rank chart picks), personal skills, grand prize claims Regular claims: activity point rank up, knowledge gem point rank up, class access/mastery

As always, please feel free to ask any questions!

- The House Leaders

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.128 - Dipshits.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

Kiera discusses her next strategy with Rob; Simon catches Baler falling in with the wrong crowd by playing Cowboy Poker.

“It’s about time you showed up for lunch!” Robert chuckled while he joined her in her office, sitting down at the small table that was close to the window, looking out towards the vague frame of the Tetons in the far distance, only knowing the mountain range due to its shape alone. “I got you a chicken wrap from the café. Hope you weren’t craving anything else.”

“That’s fine, Rob. Thank you.” Kiera shook her head, kindly accepting the fresh chicken Caesar wrap he had brought her as a kind gesture.

As well as a reward for helping him make a fuck ton of money within the last few months.

“So, are you excited to finally be taking full control of this office?”

“Terrified, but it’s how I learn.” She shrugged.

“Well, what’s your first move?”

“For one, I’m going to take down Jenkins. Any fucking way I can,” She scoffed, eagerly curling her index finger under the tab of her can of Dr. Pepper. “You get these land developers like him who find pristine recreational property, build whatever they desire and sell the dream – no major problems arise unless you have cocksuckers like Jenkins who desire to take it further: building hotels and casinos. They all end up leaving because they can’t generate enough cash flow after trying to turn it into New York City.”

“That’s right. You can’t make a big business out of raw land with real estate.” Rob nodded.

“Exactly.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“We set up a fund – a fund that buys land and puts it into a conservation easement which cuts the property tax by 2/3’s by the end of the year. Then we go to the Department of Agriculture and enroll the land in a CRP.”

“What’s a CRP?”

“It’s the federal government paying us not to farm it.”

Rob scoffed, “Now why would the federal government willingly pay its citizens not to do something that brings in revenue? That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“To control the supply. They won’t have to worry about local farmers – or people like Jenkins – diluting the market. It’s shit, but it’s a benefit for us.”

“What’s the turnaround look like?”

Kiera shrugged, “A government pay per acre, per year depending on land. The last I checked in Wyoming, it’s between $200-$300 an acre. That also goes for Montana, Utah, and Colorado – except Colorado is more stingy with where its money goes.”

“So the government will pay the land off for us in seven years?”

“We’ll pretty much become landlords who are paid not to rent.”

“Hm. Sounds like a pyramid scheme.”

“With the government at the bottom for once, then yeah. Let’s start with a $100,000,000 investment in land, then we funnel the CRP funds into more land purchases and buy probably up to 30,000 acres per year without spending a dime. We make a profit by year two with a net revenue of $45,000,000 per year.”

“The more we buy, the more the number increases?”

“Sound like a good retirement plan for you?”

“Of course it does, but why hasn’t anyone does this before?”

“They can’t afford it, but we can.”

“What’s in it for you, Kiera?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Something is buried within you.”

“I’m just doing my job,” She assured him. “And I’m doing the best I can to protect my father’s ranch and legacy for as long as I can.”

“I understand,” Rob nodded. “We’ll put the land into the hedge fund and use the brokers to buy up the land. Don’t haggle on price, Kiera. You know what to do.”

“Otherwise, you wouldn’t have given me the reins.”

*

Kiera’s fingers ached with as much as she had been typing on her computer, silently thankful that she had forced herself to upgrade from the slow HP desktop to an iMac, which hit the spot on her aesthetic, finding herself to be slightly more organized than she thought. Impressive, she mused.

Breaking her gaze from her computer, her head throbbed once she broke her focus to look for the source of the vibrations from her phone. Shit, already 5:00? “Hey.”

“What’re you up to, love?” Simon asked softly on the other end of the phone.

“Getting ready to have a meeting with a realtor who’s selling land around the ranch. Going to make an offer on it.”

“Rolling in the bread, yeah?”

She scoffed, “If only it was our money…”

“I’m sure I’d see signs,” He chuckled. “Coming home after?”

“Most definitely. My eyes have been so strained and my head has been hurting since I came in this morning. I ran into our buddy this morning.”

“Who?”

“Jenkins. I stopped at the diner for breakfast because I was craving strawberry banana pancakes and knew Ruby was there. That fucker was there, too. Me and him had a little word.”

“I bet that went well.”

“About like you could imagine. Couldn’t keep my big mouth shut.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” He poked. “So… Cravings, huh?”

She swore she had heard him smile at the thought.

“It’s been a few weeks now… I need to check and see if we have another one on the way,” She giggled. “Guess I have a stop to make on my way home, huh?”

“I’d love to see that. Your daughter has been babbling dada all day and I’ve been on a Cloud 9. If only I can get Jacob to finally talk without saying gibberish.”

“That’s because they’re babies, Simon,” She scoffed playfully. “The realtor’s coming in. This shouldn’t take long. Want me to call you back?”

“You can call me back or I can mute myself, love. I’m just sitting on the couch watching Evie and Jacob sleep.”

“Where’s Baler?”

“Bunkhouse. He and Johnny have been bullying each other about playing poker and Teeter kept instigating it, so that’s what he’s been doing since he’s been home from school.”

“Christ, that boy,” Kiera shook her head, glancing up at the realtor who had walked in, setting his briefcase down next to him in the chair while he sat in front of Kiera’s desk.

“Did I come in at a wrong time?” He asked, his tone nearly irritated at not only the fact that he had to deal with a woman, but being a man of strict order when it came to appointments. When you say to be here at 5:00, I expect you to be ready, not talking on the phone. Fucking women.

Oh, but he had no idea what he was up against…

And she noticed this, making it a point to piss him off even more for her own benefit. “Just mute yourself, Simon.” She advised, also sending him a quick text to inform him that he wanted to hear the rest of the conversation.

“What’ve you got for me, David?” She asked, watching him huff before stacking a file on her desk with the plot of land that he was able to provide for her that was for sale.

“Hope this best suits your needs.” He commented.

She arched her brow as she looked over the file as well as the photos that he had taken for the marketing on his iPad. “How many acres?”

“418. Asking price is $6,000.000. Has a water source, two houses, a separate garage, horse barn, indoor arena that’s air-conditioned and heated. The whole nine yards.”

“How motivated are the sellers?”

David scoffed, “Well, they thought spending the winter here was better than being in South Carolina. You tell me.”

You cocky motherfucker, she scoffed to herself. I’m going to ruin your ego in a few minutes. “Offer $4,000,000. No escrow – cash. One week close.”

“Wouldn’t you want to see it first?”

“Seeing it now.”

“Okay… You didn’t strike me as the type that would just buy something without seeing it.”

“You’d be surprised, buddy,” She retorted. “No negotiations. Offer the four and a week close. Surely they’d be eager to move back east for a mild winter.”

“Care to see one more that might better suit your interest?”

“Why not.”

David nodded, removing another file from his briefcase before setting it on her desk, taking the iPad and opening the other folder for his next proposal. “800 acres that ties into the national forest on the west, view of the Grand Tetons from the back patio, nothing but hunting land. It’s not available, but I know the people—”

“Then why are you showing it to me?”

“You… Wanted to see every large plot in the northwest part of Wyoming?”

“For sale.”

A brief moment of silence fell between the two, making dominant eye contact as if they were challenging each other. “It’s called Wren Acres.”

“Why’s it named after a wren?” She questioned curiously, truly wondering why a plot of land would be called something opposite to what species resided there.

“Who the fuck knows,” David scoffed. “Maybe it’s because they’re from South Carolina?”

“What’s with the wit, David?” Kiera asked softly, her adrenaline pumping as she was eager to make another man mad that she would be questioning his dominance. “Quick math for your commission making you feel eager? Damn, you’re showing us properties that aren’t even for sale. Man, you’re on a roll. Might go home and lay some pipe to the ole’ lady.”

He scoffed in astonishment as well as surprise. It’s kinda hot when a woman thinks she can be more assertive than me… “Wha-?”

“Get out of my office.”

“Kiera, I don’t—”

“Get the fuck out of my office. When you make a proposal, fax it to me so I don’t have to look at you again.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“You won’t or I will,” She shrugged. “You can lose your commission and I’ll go and lay pipe to your ole lady. Your choice.”

He scoffed, gathering his files and iPad before stuffing them back into his briefcase. “I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. Go write up the offer so I don’t have to. When you get your commission I want you to shove it so far up your waxed ass,” She scoffed, glaring at him while she watched him storm out of her office before mumbling, “Fuck, I hate real estate agents.” To Simon once she directed her conversation back at him, hearing him chuckling at her conversation while patiently waiting for it to end, although a part of him hoped it wouldn’t end, he quite thoroughly enjoyed watching Kiera be assertive to people, including him. It’s so bloody sexy when she tells me like it is, he mused to himself. “You remind me every day why I’m glad to be on your good side, love.”

“Did I forget to mute you?”

“Sure did, but I don’t mind. At least I was assured that you didn’t have another man in your office for another type of meeting…” He poked.

“That’s tomorrow,” She scoffed back, her tone nearly assertive, even though sarcasm was a thick underlier. “I’m finishing up and heading home. What do you want for dinner?”

“Remember, it’s Friday. Your mum was going to cook dinner and we go over there.”

“That’s right. I forgot to call her earlier—”

“Don’t stress about it. She called me and I took the kids over there around noon. She asked me to help her hang a few frames around the house that the poor lass couldn’t reach.”

“Awe, look at you being a house-husband.”

“Gotta do something while I’m on time off from work. Feels nice to do nothing with something on occasion.”

“I’m sure, babe. I’m heading to the truck now. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

*

“Got a whole hand of ‘em, boys!” Frankie taunted the others, his free hand full of cards while the other clutched a bottle of beer.

“Easy to say when you’re not in it.” Dirk teased from across the table.

“What’s eatin’ you, Baler? I know that’s not your poker face!” Lawson snickered, nudging the teen with his elbow.

“Yeah, you look like you’re about to take a shite!” Johnny laughed, tossing into the blind that sat piled in the middle of the table.

“Maybe I am…” Baler sighed, the corner of his mouth raising into a smirk before tossing the winning draw onto the table, watching the rest of the playing wranglers sigh in defeat.

“You son of a bitch!” Frankie sighed, folding his hand before twining his fingers behind his head while Lawson tossed his ballcap to the floor.

“Is this all we’re gonna do?” Teeter groaned impatiently.

“It’s what we always do?...” Frankie answered, his brows furrowed.

“Is it just one set of nuts y’all share?” She taunted, making Dirk laugh.

“Aside from the ones I’m wearing, I think your lady has the only ones in this room.”

“You’re probably right, mate.” Johnny huffed, his face flushed.

“When I was your age, we were out in the arena playing real poker… Cowboy Poker.”

“Now that sounds fun!” Teeter chimed.

“Wh-What is that?” Johnny asked.

“Oh, it’s real fun, baby. Involves a lot of whiskey and gettin’ a lil dirty!” She mused, leaning down from behind him to kiss his cheek.

“What exactly is it?” Baler asked, his expression just as confused as Johnny’s.

“We’re not playing it, so it doesn’t matter.” Frankie answered abruptly, shaking his head and beginning to shuffle a deck of cards.

“Bock… Bock, bock…” Dirk trailed off, chewing on the end of his cigar.

“That old fart is taunting me!” Baler scoffed. “Let’s do it.”

“Boy, your balls haven’t even dropped yet and you’re wanting to risk not ever growing them!” Lawson sighed.

“And your dad will kill us.” Johnny reminded, arching his brow. “Especially me for letting you do it.”

“Afraid you all will lose? It’s a damn shame mine haven’t even dropped and I have more balls than all of you combined.” Baler shrugged.

“Goddammit,” Frankie sighed. “Let’s go.”

All members of the table stood to their feet, anxious and ready for whatever this so-called game was. Knowing that it was taking place in an arena, it was about to get messier than what Teeter had explained.

*

“Don’t worry, baby! Ye be alright! I’m gonna stay behind the fence here!” Teeter snickered, clasping her hands over Johnny’s shoulders as she stood behind him once he sat down in the plastic chair, setting an open bottle of whiskey in his lap before her lips rested on his temple. “Drink up. Ye gonna need some liquid courage!”

Johnny nodded, never hesitating before taking a large sip of the liquor before passing it to Frankie, watching him repeat the motion before he passed it to Lawson, watching him take a small swig before passing it to Baler, shocked to see him take a drink just like Simon would as well as never making a sour face after he swallowed.

“Goddamn, kid, you stealin’ whiskey when your dad ain’t home?” Dirk commented, surprised.

“Nah, I just had a rough life before this place, old man,” He retorted. “More liquid courage, Frankie? You look like a puss right now.”

“Fuck you. You sound just like my sister.” He retorted, referring to Kiera as she was his sibling.

“Taught me well, didn’t she?”

“Now, what’s the rules?”

“Last one at the table keeps the pot,” Lawson answered, his form visibly trembling from adrenaline and fear. “Pass me some more of that.”

“Drink up, dipshits,” Dirk laughed. “You’re going to need it.”

“You two are getting horse traded by this old bastard and he isn’t even drinking anything.” Baler taunted.

“This is fucking nuts!” Lawson shouted, desperate to pump himself up to hide his fear.

“Quit crying!” Baler scoffed. “We’re ready!”

“Yeah, there’s not a lot smart about this…” Frankie sighed.

“Here we go, ladies,” Baler continued, taking a final long swig of the burning whiskey before shouting, “Ready!”

Johnny took a deep breath when he heard the gate open, a set of thunderous hooves colliding with the sand while Teeter shouted at the bovine, the radio that was perched on the ground to provide as background music blared Mud by Whiskey Myers as the bull charged into the arena, looking around frantically before setting its sights on the table in the middle of the arena, each player sitting as still as they possibly could as the bull charged closer, bowing its head for its desired impact, Baler sitting on the other end of the table and physically watched the bull charge as if it were charging at just him.

With a sharp thud and the air kicked from his lungs, Baler steadily stood on his feet to flee to the nearest fence, watching as he was the last one in the arena, unaware that the other players had fled with adrenaline after being rammed by the bull, Johnny and Teeter both encouraging Baler to run with adrenaline still coursing through their veins, Dirk’s aching limbs helping the teenager over the top of the fence rail with a laugh while he did his best to dust him off. “That’s some cowboy shit, boy!” He shouted with excitement.

“That’s… That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done!” He laughed. “But that was fucking awesome!”

“Ye okay baby, no missin’ teeth?! Your pecker still on right? I ain’t need no limp’n!” Teeter questioned Johnny, looking him over while he gasped for air and clutched his ribs.

“I’m fine, bonnie. Bastard hit me right in the ribs.” He groaned.

“Balls of steel!” Frankie laughed, patting Baler on the shoulder as he limped towards the barn, regrouping with the rest of the wranglers as they all gasped for air.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ peachy.” Baler groaned, wiping the blood from his nose.

“You might need this.” Lawson said, reaching the bottle of leftover whiskey to the teen as he took it eagerly, finishing it off without a second thought, even if Simon had just walked towards the arena to investigate the commotion, the wranglers unaware that the blaring music had caught his attention as it was very rare of the wranglers to throw a “party.”

“He lost his hat, so he owes us a six pack and a new radio.” Frankie teased, the players still unaware of Simon’s deathly gaze as he was storming towards them.

“The fuck I do!” Baler scoffed. “Give me my money!”

“Fine!” He scoffed, slapping the fifty-dollar bill into the teen’s palm, watching with a scowl as he had eagerly fisted it into his back pocket.

“What the fuck are you bastards doing?” Simon shouted.

The wranglers were wide-eyed, looking like a bunch of deer in oncoming headlights, nearly scared out of their wits and suddenly wishing they were caught slacking on the job instead of what they had just done, the worst of it willingly letting a teenager drink whiskey like an old man.

“Uhm… It’s Friday.” Baler answered for them, hoping that the day of the week would at least help him and the wranglers out of this situation.

“I know what bloody day it is, lad!” He shouted. “Why were you in the arena with that bull and why are you bloody?!”

“We were tryin’ to milk him!” Teeter snickered, knowing that Simon wouldn’t be as inclined to scold her in front of Johnny.

Boy, what she wrong.

“Not the fucking time,” He glared, more irritated that his son was battered and bloody – something that always drove under his skin as he always felt he needed to be the one to protect him, even in his wrong decisions. But Simon wouldn’t admit that he was impressed with the kid. You just took a beating by a two-thousand pound bull and still got up. You have some serious guts, kid. “Lad, go to the house and tell your mum what you just did.”

“N-No, I—”

“I’m not going to tell you again.”

Then, the teen did something that truly caught Simon off guard. He scoffed at him.

Simon arched his brow – a warning. “Get the furball out, then go to the house and tell your mum what you just did.”

Baler scoffed again.

“If you *scoffing sound* one more time, I’ll choke you for real.”

The rest of the wranglers laughed as Baler limped away in defeat.

“Balls of steel when it comes to a bull, but going home like a kitten when he’s in trouble.” Lawson teased.

“I’d be more afraid of going home if I were him,” Dirk shrugged. “That bull is the least of my worries if it comes down to dealing with Kiera as mad as a wet hen.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I forgot she beat the shit out of Frankie a couple of years ago.” Lawson snickered, nudging Frankie with his elbow before Simon quickly took control of the situation and grasped their coats, knocking them off balance before shoving them back towards the bunkhouse.

“You all get out of here and get yourselves cleaned up. Four a.m. comes early!”

“We never get up at four on Saturday—” Dirk pleaded.

“You all will tomorrow,” He glared. “Maybe you all will learn once you decide to not mess with a bloody rabid bull.”

“Yes, sir.” Dirk nodded, respecting Simon’s leadership as well as understanding his reason for being upset, joining the rest of the wranglers to the bunkhouse, Teeter helping the old man walk as Johnny stayed behind in an attempt to stay on Simon’s good side.

Like a dog who had just been punished.

“You, especially.” He scoffed, arching his brow at Johnny.

“I’m sorry, Simon. It was all just fun—”

“Yeah? How’d that work out for you?”

“Pretty fuckin’ rough,” He breathed a laugh, stuffing his freezing hands into his jacket pockets. “What’re you wanting us to do in the morning?”

“In case you forgot, you said you were coming hunting with me and the boy tomorrow.”

“I’d rather work,” Johnny sighed. “Hunting with you is like a recon mission. After being with Teeter for so long, I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut for longer than an hour.”

“You’ve never been able to keep your mouth shut,” Simon retorted. “Who won?”

“Your kid. Little bastard never moved.” Johnny huffed, relieved once he saw a prideful smile spread across Simon’s face at his answer.

“Is that right?”

“The kid is a walking stick of dynamite. He’s a perfect mix of you and Kiera and he isn’t even blood-related to you. Makes me wonder how your actual kids will turn out.” He poked.

“I can assure you, if my daughter grows up with Kiera’s attitude and my stubbornness and I catch her out here playing this stupid game like you all were playing tonight, every one of you would be dead and she’d be locked up in the house until she was an adult.”

“Don’t lie, you wouldn’t even let her out of the house when she was an adult!”

“You’re probably right.”

[potterpromptmeme]

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[megwritesriddles]

Tightening the Knot ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Reader is captured at the end of the war as the Death Eater's celebrate their victory. She is told she is to marry Tom Riddle, but can't figure out why he'd want her or why she isn't trying harder to escape…

Tags: Forced marriage, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, DarkLord!Tom Riddle, Set after a vague Wizarding War, Not canon or timeline compliant, Voldemort wins, Reader is a member of the Black family, Enemies to lovers (?), Imprisonment, Implied age gap (but i was thinking of it as like 10 years at most, again, not timeline compliant).

Word count: 2.6k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: This was based on a request that I changed a bit to make myself more comfortable writing it (e.g. making the age gap smaller but vague enough so you can imagine whatever you like while you read it). Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It wasn’t what you would picture as a prison. The plush furnishings, grand windows and monumental bookcases suggested an atmosphere of comfort and luxury, but make no mistake, this palatial room was your holding cell. The order had fallen, and the writing had been on the wall for some time now, however, there was no giving up in the fight against evil, so they fought until the bitter end. You were one of the lucky few still alive after the battle on the grounds of Hogwarts, although you hardly felt lucky given the circumstances. You stared at the ridiculously ornate, but admittedly beautiful, wedding dress hung in the small walk-in-wardrobe across from your bed, wishing it would light on fire from the anger in your gaze alone. But of course, it doesn’t. You have been stripped of your magic, your wand is who knows where and your room is enchanted to allow no magic inside it, all to prevent your escape.

Why he chose you, you can’t understand. Sure, you were from a well-established pureblood family with a deep history as he’d explained to you the one time you’d seen him since your capture, but there were many girls like that for him to have his pick of. You were angry and defiant, you didn’t wish to bend to him, you spoke back and you lashed out when he tried to touch you. Why would he choose that over, say, your relative Bellatrix, who seemed to constantly be vying for his affection and shared your heritage? Throughout the war, you had constantly found yourself facing against him. He had even commented on occasion that it was always you in his way. Perhaps, this was merely his final revenge.

“I don’t even like you!” you’d protested, sitting across from him at the grand dining table of the Malfoy or Nott or Lestrange manor, whichever of his snivelling followers house this was, shackled to the tall-backed, velvet upholstered chair.

“You do,” he’d smiled smoothly, sipping his red wine, eyes drinking you in with something like amusement. “You think I’m handsome, you can’t deny that,” he added with a smirk. Your cheeks bloomed red and you scoffed, looking down at your shackled hand, the other free to allow you to eat. He’s right, you can’t deny it, you’re aware of his skill at legilimency and you’re sure he has watched a few of the dreams you’d had since you’d got here and been told you were to marry him a few weeks ago. Filthy dreams about what your wedding night might look like, how rough he might be with you or how gentle. Later that night, a dream of him bending you over this very dining table, unaware of how close he had been to really doing so. Avoiding his eye, you continued.

“That is hardly enough to base a marriage on,”

“I have known marriages based on less,” he mused. “You will like it more than you think,” The smile that followed those words stirred your stomach in a way you don’t wish to try to interpret.

The wedding is a few days later. The decor in the manor is much darker than the decor for a usual wedding might be, feeling more mournful than anything else. It fits your mood, although from what you gather it’s merely an aesthetic consideration for the death eaters that put the event together. Your dress is beaded in intricate designs, black beads twisting around a white silk base, painting a design of thorns and roses across the fabric that almost reminds you of chains. Beautiful chains. How very fitting. Your veil is black, as is the bouquet of roses you are given to carry down the aisle. You wonder who designed everything, it was beautiful, presumably one of the death eater’s wives who had an otherwise unused eye for aesthetics. Bellatrix, the only relative you have around, is the one to walk you down the aisle, holding your arm oppressively the whole way. She is clearly bitter that she is not in your shoes, but still eager to please Riddle, who waits, standing tall and proud in front of all his death eaters in a pressed, pitch-black suit.

When you reach him, he slides his arm around your back and holds you tight, making sure you couldn’t possibly leave if you tried. He’s never touched you before, his hand is cold, large and imposing, making you want to lean in and away all at once. You are not asked to recite any vows or to say ‘I do’, the decision has been made for you. Once Riddle has agreed that he will take you as his wife, he turns you toward him by your waist and lifts your veil carefully, tutting at your unhappy expression underneath. He cups your chin and tilts your face up, leaning down to kiss you to seal your marriage. The kiss is forceful and possessive, but despite yourself, you lean in just a little, heat shooting through your veins as his lips press to yours. He is handsome and powerful, and as much as you want to resist, as much as you hate all he stands for, your body is weak. His fingers tighten into your dress, gripping the small of your back. You know what it means. You’re his now. 

Riddle keeps you held captive at his side throughout the reception as he talks and drinks with his followers. You can tell from the way they glance at you at his side, that they are as confused as you are about why he chose you to be his bride and not one of the many willing girls and women amongst his followers, but have clearly been told not to dare question his decision. Trying your best to distract yourself, you play with the wedding ring on your finger. A thin serpentine silver band winding around your ring finger, inset with emeralds and black star sapphire. Once again, you wonder who might have picked it out for you. Surely, not Riddle himself? To your surprise, Riddle also wears a wedding band. A plain one with a subtle carving of a serpent, complimenting yours without being anywhere near as ostentatious. It’s a surprise that he would want to advertise himself as being married, you hadn’t expected it, but you aren’t sure what to make of it, so you don’t dwell. At least the food at the beginning of the reception had been delicious, and the cake your favourite flavour, decorated with the same thorny patterns as your dress. 

You find yourself incredibly annoyed to stand around and listen to these men talk and laugh, wanting to retreat to your room, despite knowing what will follow. It’s your wedding night, and Riddle made it clear that he expects you to comply with traditional wedding night activities with him. At first, you were angry and disgusted, but now you just feel like you want to get to it as soon as possible, only to get it over and done with. His ever-present hand on your waist or lower back doesn’t help this feeling. Finally, once he is also sick of listening to his followers' drivel, he guides you out of the hall in which the wedding was held and up the stairs, not towards your quarters, but his own. You’re tense as you walk, knowing what is drawing ever closer and closer. His hand softly rubs your waist as he escorts you, presumably trying to ease a little of your tension, not wanting your apprehension to ruin his wedding night. 

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, which was somehow even larger than the one in the room you’d been staying in, you watch him loosen the tie at his neck, pouring himself a little champagne. 

“Want any, darling?” he smirks, sipping the drink, his eyes roaming the flattering figure your dress gave you. Part of you wondered whether you should drink to numb the experience, but all the same, you wanted your faculties about you. You shake your head silently and he shrugs. “Later then,” Once his drink is finished, he comes to sit beside you. You stiffen as his cold hands gather up your hair and move it out of the way, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your back. He waits a moment before popping the first clasp on your back. Goosebumps erupt across your skin and your muscles tighten, drawing in a breath. “You’re surprisingly willing, I told you that you’d like this more than you thought,” he ponders aloud with a hint of teasing, continuing to pop the clasps down your back. “I almost miss the fight,” he slips the sleeve of the dress off of your shoulder and bites down gently on the bare flesh. “Almost,”

The feeling of the cold air of the room meeting your skin sends a fit of shivers through you, the fabric of the dress pooling at your waist and baring your breasts to the air, your nipples hardening to peaks in an instant. Riddle hums, watching like a hawk over your shoulder, his hands caressing your skin just beneath your breasts, drawing yet another shiver from you. He slowly bites up and down your shoulder, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp, to leave behind small possessive marks. His warm chest presses to your bare back, the soft fabric of his dress shirt brushing against your skin, his suit jacket shed much earlier in the evening. 

“What has you so willing now, darling? You were so… incensed before,” he taunts, just gently brushing his thumbs on the underside of your breasts, his breath tickling your neck. 

“I just want to get it over with,” you mumble, observing as his large hands move across your skin. He chuckles.

“I’m sure,” he hums, clearly not believing you. You wouldn’t believe you either. “Be a good girl and stand for me,” Very hesitantly, and fighting against several tonnes of pride, you rise to your feet, jolting as he gently eases your dress down over your hips, taking caution not to rip the dress or damage the beading. Once it passes the swell of your hips, it falls easily to the ground, leaving you in only a pair of panties. You remain facing away from him, too sheepish to turn. His fingertips trace the edge of the material on your hips, down to your rear. You twitch away from his touch and he tuts. “Come now, you’re only prolonging this,” he gently grips your hips, guiding you back toward the bed, his hands skimming over you as he twists you around and lays you down against the pillows. Staring up at him, you notice a disconcerting predatory look in his eyes, despite the otherwise uncharacteristic softness in his expression. Even more bothersome is the way your stomach flips upon seeing it. He crawls up the bed to loom over you, a smirk decorating his handsome face. “Such a pretty picture you are, my beautiful bride,” he husks, leaning down to nip at your pulse point. You close your eyes. Bride. You couldn’t believe that word was real. This time, you feel the bite of his teeth and you know he’s leaving a proper mark. A whimper leaves your throat despite your reservations and you feel him grin against your skin, pleased to have evidence of your enjoyment of this, despite your performative protestations.

You keep your eyes closed as you feel him withdraw from you, hearing the rustle of fabric as he removes his dress shirt and the clank of metal as he reaches for his belt. Your thighs clench as the reality of what’s coming washes over you properly. Despite everything that you know should have you running for the hills, you are curious, too curious for your own good. So curious that when you feel his fingers hooking into the fabric of your underwear and beginning to softly tug downward, you wordlessly lift your hips and allow him to bare you to his gaze. He growls softly, presumably noticing the arousal that has gathered as he spreads your legs. 

“You don’t like me, darling?” he scoffs, repeating your words from a few days before.

“No,” you murmur. He brushes his thumb against your lower lip, which makes you part them obediently and clench around nothing. He notices your reaction instantly and gives a smug laugh.

“You are a terrible liar,” he purrs, placing his thumb on your tongue. “I think you like me very much,” he watches, enraptured, as you suckle on his thumb for the briefest of moments before you collect yourself once more. 

“I do not,” you protest weakly, finally opening your eyes to look up at him again, but you know you aren’t remotely convincing. “There is a difference between liking and lusting,” you huff. He rolls his eyes, though he looks amused.

“I suppose that is true, I’ll give you that,” he hums, using his now moist thumb to come down and begin gently circling your clit, drawing a ragged gasp from you. “You don’t like me, but right now, I reckon all that matters is lust, don’t you, darling?” Your head falls to the side as you avoid his knowing gaze, breaths coming short as he continues his intoxicating circles, the sensation enhanced by how worked up he has you. Your hips squirm lightly and he just seems to find it entertaining. You hear the rustle of fabric once more but pay it no mind, eyes fluttering shut at the syrupy pleasure he’s providing you.

You shoot up in surprise when you feel him prodding softly at your entrance, your eyes flying open to meet his. He shushes you gently, pushing you back down to lie and despite yourself, you go. His thumb never stops circling, making you more compliant than usual. He’s hot and hard against you and it makes you moan. It’s awful to realise just how badly you want him to press inside.

“You knew it was coming, just relax, we don’t want it to hurt, do we?” he soothes with his slightly patronising tone, but you just give a shaky nod. “There we go, you can be so good when you want to be,” he coos. After a few more calming circles on your clit, he’s pressing inside of you slowly. Your eyes roll back and your lips part, your walls fluttering as you do your best to accommodate him. He shifts, looming over you even more, propping his hand at the side of your head to support his weight. 

His eyes are dark as he stares down at you, growling in pleasure, finally inside of you like he has wished to be for so long. All those years of your infuriating scheming and fighting, only to end up a whimpering mess beneath him in your marital bed. The grin that graces his lips is downright devilish. He has you where he wants you, completely, rocking his hips a few times to draw those rousing mewls from your lips once more. Your hand grips his arm, the cool metal of your wedding band digging into his skin. Finally, he has you here and you’re willing, no matter what you assert. The sinful pleasure he’s giving you feels like sweet revenge as he begins to fuck into you properly, hips slamming into yours, slick sounds filling the room, claiming you entirely, consummating your marriage. The marriage you had claimed not to want, but never once tried to disrupt as it happened.

“You know what I think, darling?” he grunts, you don’t answer with anything other than a cry of pleasure as he angles himself to thrust even deeper inside you. “I think you do like me, and you will forever, whether you want to or not,”

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hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

[scythc]

ver masterlist: canon only muses are exempted ( canon div // crossover )

directory

sylvain : crimson flower

haibara* : sherry , ova 9 , civilian // bnha , death note , hp , dnd/fantasy , fe3h , black butler/victorian , d:bh , tlou/apocalypse

mephisto* : young god , legacy , eldritch // lawyer/hitman , dnd , d:bh , bnha , fe3h , hp

henry : divergent // spn cw

sujin* : old money , harpist , influencer

seungho* : influencer , mua , college

jordan : modern , historical // stranger things

lady : youth , queendom , modern // spn cw

laurent : escapee , unchanged // hp

robin : survivor , modern

* verses are explained in depth within respective biographies

sylvain, crimson flower : defected to the adrestian empire. post-war, he is granted control over old gautier territory, though it is renamed to fit the meritocratic values of emperor edelgard's rule. also appointed as an emissary of state and sent on missions to sreng and almyra. by his own proposal request, he is ultimately appointed an indefinite stay in almyra for the purpose of working on the fodlan-almyra treaty and improving bi-lateral relations.

HENRY CREEL

divergent : after escaping from the facility, he does not kill his parents and attempts to rejoin the play due to patty's request. however, after suffering dr. brenner's provocation during the play and causing of patty's fall, he is dismayed. believing patty to be dead and feeling completely betrayed by his parents, he flees hawkins in search for people like himself.

spn cw : a boy with impure blood. unexplainable things happen to him; even though he tries his hardest to be good, something compels him to do dark and evil things. though, on second thought, is it really so bad to feel like he's been chosen for something special...? ( one of azazel's children. )

JORDAN BAKER

modern : sports science student. on scholarship as a pro-golfer.

historical : a noble who grew up defying the stereotypes of her time. learning how to cast on a specific veneer in order to please society and working through those constraints to rise into a position of power, she secured marriage to a figure-head who was content to let her run things as she preferred .

stranger things : a final-year student at hawkins high. a young girl with dreams of making a name for herself in the golfing world. all she just wants to keep her head down, graduate asap, and get into a big college with a sports scholarship. as far as she knows, the disappearances & weird happenings around town have absolutely nothing to do with her.

LAURENT DURAND

escapee : managing to escape the suspicion and psychological warfare of camille's mother, he leaves therese for dead along the banks of the river seine and attempts to starts a new life elsewhere . however, rotten roots struggle to take hold. he is left disturbed, wandering and bereft; a little darker & changed for good .

002. unchanged : having never met therese , he spends the rest of his university life in a haze of hedony . graduates on his father's dime & rides coattails to become an opportunistic , corrupt lawyer . this is a man who's learnt the ins - and - outs of the judicial system for the sole purpose of exploiting its loopholes .

hp : neutral pureblood slytherin. takes his father's position in the ministry for-granted, seeing it as a given that he'll ascend ministry ranks in the same way. he's not entirely wrong: after graduating, he becomes part of the dmle before being promoted as a wizengamot trial judge merely 5 years after. since, he has work where he worked during the commencement of the battle of hogwarts .

LADY MACBETH

youth : a bastard daughter, shunned by the head of house. the unfortunate circumstances leave her ambitious & power-hungry, and she vows to improve her societal position, no matter the cost.

queendom : sanity hangs on by a thin thread. ghostly whispers surround her, a cacophony of agony, voices of the good men she had clambered over to reach the bloody top. this is her happy ending, she tells herself. and when night comes, she washes her hands clean . sin, absolve, and repeat. madness is her old friend.

modern : a cutthroat business woman. runs macbeth industries as a shadow director.

spn cw: growing up unnatural in a highly religious community is a sin. since youth, she's had an unusual sensitivity towards spirits and hears voices in her head. they drive her mad and compel her to do terrible & unexplainable things. ( angel / psychic )

[lucesbloodbank]

Hi People!

This is your OC captain speaking, aka the person behind all the craziness on this blog, but feel free to call me Luce, or Lucy. I love baking, writing, and editing, and though I'm pretty mediocre at all three they bring me a lot of joy. I really like world-building and have a fun time trying to put the pieces together of unresolved things in stories (aka. what's going on in the lives of the side characters while the main folks are off saving the world). I'm here to have fun and share my musings with you all, and I hope you stick around! Thanks for stopping by.

This blog is for all non-HP-related OC's that linger in my mind. To check out my HP stories, go to @legilimenace

The Walking Dead | Character Masterlist

Marvel | Character Masterlist

Bridgerton | Character Masterlist

OUAT | Character Masterlist

LOST

Game of Thrones | Character Masterlist

Reign | Character Masterlist

ESO | Character Masterlist

Peaky Blinders | Character Masterlist

[solemnlyiarchived]

HARRY POTTER MUSES I’M ALWAYS WILLING TO WRITE; both canon & oc

era unknown, am willing to make them work for any: 

florean fortescue - aubrey joseph, marque richardson & billy porter, depending on the age 

charlie fortescue - zoe kravitz

manny fortescue - daveed diggs 

rosalie nevra krum - hande ercel 

malakai fawley greyback - monica raymund 

arcadius nott - cheyenne jackson 

marauders era: 

kingsley shacklebolt - brian michael smith 

mundungus fletcher - manny montana 

evan rosier - summer bishil 

reginald rosier - raza jaffrey 

marisol rosier - anya chalrota 

alastor moody - david harbour 

narcissa black - jessica alexander 

sirius black - avan jogia 

marlene mckinnon - adria arjona 

peter pettigrew - tbd.

septima vector - ryan destiny 

regulus black - hero fiennes tiffin 

emma vanity - tbd. 

bellatrix black - janet montgomery 

trio era, give or take a few years: 

lisa jadene turpin - da’vine joy randolph 

draco malfoy - tbd. 

tracey davis - demet ozdemir 

next gen era: 

albus severus potter - charlie gillespie 

scorpius malfoy - owen joyner 

jacqueline barebone weasley - reina hardesty 

louis weasley - rudy pankow 

zane shacklebolt - trevor jackson 

zara shacklebolt - kiki layne 

[rpcmasterlist]

reblog this post to be added to the HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST with your muse’s name, whether they’re canon or original character, or if you’ve got a HP verse.

[jackieinthebox]

hands | p. parker x gn avenger! reader

summary: a completely self indulgent fic about Peter’s hands 

words: 770

warnings: uh hand on thigh ? idk its v fluffy 

a/n: thank you all so much for the love on my first post, i was not expecting that! i’m going to try to post every few days, i have a bunch of ideas in mind but you’re always welcome to send in requests! i primarily want to write for peter (duh), bucky, loki, and spencer reid but i’m down for hp and outer banks characters. i’m also looking to make more mutuals if anyone’s interested! 

masterlist

You were obsessed with your boyfriends hands. You loved every aspect of him but you were especially infatuated with his hands. Despite them reflecting his hero duties, being littered with cuts, burns, bruises, callouses, you constantly told him how pretty they were. You loved to hold and fiddle with them. Its become a habit of sorts, sometimes doing it absentmindedly. You would watch them as he did the most mundane of things with such adoration in your eyes.

It started on a mission, a rather lowkey one both you and Peter were permitted to go on. You were noticeably bursting with excitement, as it was a rare occurrence for Tony to let his precious prodigies and the youngest avengers on a mission. As you neared the location your excitement simmered down to nerves. Peter swore he wasn’t hyperaware of you in an overbearing boyfriend way he was just... observant and particularly in tune to your emotions. He knows you and loves you hence how he immediately picks up on the sudden mood change. 

He also knows you’re far too proud to admit your nerves and didn’t want to agitate you by prying, so he did the next best thing to comfort you. He dropped a clothed hand into your lap and rubbed it up and down your inner thigh. After a minute he rested it on your upper thigh and looked up at the side of your face. You look down at your lap and hold his hand, cupping it with both of yours. He smiles at the action and tucks some stray hairs behind your ear giving him access to your cheek, then presses a soft kiss to it.

You had held hands before of course, but this time it felt especially intimate, despite the nearby spectators littered around the quinjet. No matter where you were Peter made you feel so safe and protected. The sweet gesture immediately alleviated your nerves. 

Since then he would drop a hand on your lap or thigh to ground you when you got anxious. Or more selfishly when he wanted your attention, as you could never resist holding his hand and playing with his fingers.

-

Sat on his lap while he was playing video games you couldn’t help but admire his hands gripping the controller, accentuating his veins. You inch up the sleeve of his hoodie to further reveal them to you. Slowly, like a tiger about to pounce on its prey, you reach out to trace the prominent veins on his hands, up his arms. Peter adjusts himself to rest his head on the crook of your neck, placing a kiss there.

-

You and Peter were sat on his bed facing each other, you on the end, him by the headboard. Both with your respective schoolwork sprawled out around you. As you finish up the last page of notes you’re reviewing you look up as Peter let’s out a frustrated sigh. Searching his face you conclude he’s stressed and needs a break. Shuffling closer you grab the hand that’s frantically flipping through a textbook and bring it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. Peter looks up and smiles at the gesture.

“Let’s take a quick break, I’ll make us some tea,” you say in a soothing voice.

Peter nods and follows as you stand, hands still intertwined, Peter tugs your hand towards him, pulling you into his chest. He then brings you into a sweet, slow kiss, trying to convey his thanks. As you break apart and make your way to the kitchen Peter silently thanks whatever higher power sent you to him, you always knew what he needed when he need it, sometimes before even he did.

-

In between his legs, your back pressed up against his chest, you were reading Pride and Prejudice aloud. Peter wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you in as closely as possible, soaking in your soothing voice and hanging off your every word. After you flipped the page instead of returning your hand back to the book you peeled Peter’s off your middle and held it. Peter smiled and raised your intertwined hands, opening his making yours do the same. He admired how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. 

“You’re so small and cute, like my own little person,” he muses only half jokingly. 

Blushing, you respond with a teasing “shut it.”

Breathing out a light chuckle, Peter tilts your head to face his with his other hand and mumbles an “absolutely adorable” into your mouth before connecting your lips in a slow and sultry kiss. 

[hufflautia]

Are you in love with me?

This can’t be happening, Slytherin thinks as he approaches her slowly. I shouldn’t have run out of the room. He can talk to other girls if he wants to, it doesn’t matter to me. 

Her anger dissolves into something else. It is another feeling—one that she’s afraid to address. 

A thought breaks free from the confines of her stubborn heart. 

But it does.  

Hufflepuff lifts his hand to caress her cheek, effectively making her mind go blank. 

“Are you in love with me,” he asks softly.  

Slytherin swallows with difficulty, her heart pounding. He’s so close she can make out the tiny speckles in his earthy brown irises. “No.” 

There’s a moment in which they stand there in silence, and the universe holds its breath. It exhales when Hufflepuff leans in and kisses her so sweetly that she is left dazed after they pull apart. She doesn’t remember tangling her fingers into his hair nor can she recall the moment he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer as their lips moved in unison. 

His gaze lingers on her parted lips. 

“Are you in love with me now?”  

Slytherin lets out a small laugh, and he revels in the warmth of her breath brushing against his skin.  

“Not yet,” she murmurs, her cheeks kissed with a tint of rosy pink. “Ask me again tomorrow.”   

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll put it at the top of my to-do list.” 

She hums happily. “And you?” she muses. “Are you in love with me?”  

“I’ll have to think about it.” He gives her a grin, one so warm and utterly Hufflepuff-like that she feels as though she will melt in his arms. “I suppose you’ll have to ask me again tomorrow. Until then, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Hufflepuff smirks when she raises her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by his bluntness. 

“You know,” he tilts her chin up, “for decision-making purposes.” 

Her heartbeat quickens. 

Fin. 

~

MASTERLIST (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง << Sometimes you can’t see the embedded link because tumblr is built different. If it doesn’t work, go to my main page; the masterlist is pinned.

This ficlet is inspired by Chapter Three of Happy Birthday by Ohhhmyloki. 

Author’s note: This may be the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoyed! Comments and reblogs are appreciated. 

TAGS UNDERNEATH “Keep Reading”: 

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[tolerantwoman]

INDEPENDENT HARRY POTTER ROLE-PLAYERS MASTERLIST

Please like/reblog if you are a:

Harry Potter independent role-play blog.

Harry Potter multi-muse.

Harry Potter original character.

Please only like/reblog if your blog is one of the above. Please share with fellow HP role-players who might not see this.

The aim is to make a definitive list of ACTIVE role-players in the independent Harry Potter universe and try to boost the activity in this community once again. When enough people have liked/reblogged, I will form a masterlist that will be updated with active players.

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

gold rush / ginny weasley

yay more ginny!!!! have i told you guys how much i love ginny??? because i love ginny <3 also tysm for 100 followers i love y’all <3

evermore x hp masterlist

all fics masterlist

summary: revelling in the fact that you have the most amazing girlfriend in the world, while unbeknownst to you, she’s thinking exactly the same thing

word count: 0.8 k

warnings: none, just fluff <3

taglist: @padsfirewhisky

“and the coastal town

we wandered ‘round had never

seen a love as pure as it”

Waves crashed against the shore, the icy cold water just about washing over your bare toes as you and Ginny sat on the chilled, white sand, snuggled closely together. Her arm was comfortably resting through your own and your head was leant against her coat covered shoulder, while her cheek lay against the top of your head, welcoming the warmth that your soft hair brought about.

Thin rays of sunshine splayed across the pair of you. The small amount of heat didn’t do much to warm either of you up on the chilly September morning, though, the lack of warmth probably had something to do with the fact that both of yours and Ginny’s feet were exposed to the nippy air and stinging water. Neither you or her seemed to care about your numbing toes, however.

Ginny busied herself by playing with your fingers, your hand trapped between both of hers as she ran her thumbs in circles, up and down your knuckles. She stared out into the stormy sea, admiring the way the clouds seemed to commandeer the blue sky, leaving it a gloomy shade of grey. Your favourite type of weather; she knew.

“It’s going to rain, I think,” she remarked, pressing a small kiss against your hair when you hummed in acknowledgment. You burrowed your head further into her shoulder, the smell of her shampoo filling your nose and pulling a content sigh from your shivering lips.

“I saw a cafe up the road, we could hide out there?” You suggested but made no effort to move from your position encompassed by Ginny. You felt her nod against your head before she begrudgingly pulled away from you.

The ginger stood up and stretched out her arms towards you, helping you up from the sand. No sooner, freezing pellets of rain began pounding down from the storm clouds above you. Both you and Ginny slipped your shoes back on, laughing and dragging each other playfully through the thick sheet of rain.

Despite the rain your smile was bright enough to light up the entire coast, Ginny thought, laughing heartily as you began to twirl and giggle, water sopping your hair and the temperature turning your nose a rosy hue. “You’ll catch a cold!” Ginny jokingly chastised, all the while grabbing your hand and twirling you around herself.

With a grin that made butterflies awake in your stomach, Ginny spun you around once more before she grabbed your hips and pulled you against her, “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” she told you, mesmerised by how your eyes shined, almost mystically, even amidst the storm beginning to rage around you.

Reversing roles, you spun Ginny this time, ginning ever so widely when she giggled, almost bashfully. “Only because you’ve never met yourself, Gins.”

Another laugh left her mouth, the sound coming from deep in the back of her throat. Your heart stuttered in your chest when she faced you. From the moment you’d first seen her, you thought she was incredibly beautiful and you wondered what it must’ve been like to live every day of her life being nothing short of spectacular. In the moment, though, as she stood before you; hair dripping, the usual fiery strands dimmed to a dark auburn as a result of the rain, her freckle covered nose and cheeks red, and with raindrops clinging to her delicate eyelashes - she’d never looked more magnificent. You supposed, maybe it was serendipitous that your favourite person looked her best in your favourite weather.

Robbing you of the chance to muse about how pretty she is, Ginny placed her lips to yours in an awkward, rain filled, very smiley kiss. “I love you,” she murmured against your lips before bringing her hands to your cheeks and reconnecting her lips to yours again.

Her fingers and palms were cold to the touch, you welcomed them greedily however, leaning against her touch and reciprocating the affection as best you could through your blissful smile.

“Keep kissing me in the rain and you’ll catch a cold,” you echoed Ginny’s warning from earlier cheekily when she pulled away. Cold drops continued to pound down on you as she placed her forehead against yours, her smile as big as you’d ever seen it.

With the slightest shake of her head, she muttered, “I don’t care,” her lips met yours again, softly and tenderly, then, pulling away gingerly she met your enamoured gaze then whispered softly, her smile playful yet still gentle, “I’d catch a hundred colds to keep kissing you in the rain.”