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koolades-world · 1 year

Note

Hello, I'm looking for some angst.

I would like to order an extra harsh reality of

"The brothers will pick their sister over Mc if given a chance"

And some side dish of "The undertables having to fight for Mc"

Thanksiiee!!

hi!! Sorry I took so long to get to this but I was so looking forward to writing this when I got it! slight mentions at nsfw but nothing is described or really directly talked about. also spoilers for lesson 16 and also also long!! much longer than I anticipated

everything I write turns into Satan pieces somehow lol

Took inspo from Harry Potter, specifically Tom Riddle’s diary in the Chamber of Secrets (don't @ me used to be a huge hp fan)

update: part two is out and can be found here :)

the dance of the haunted (part one)

It all started with a simple trip to the second hand bookstore. Satan always invited Mc, so they were together. He needed a hand carrying back his purchases sometimes and they always went someone to eat afterwards, Satan’s treat as he could never imagine asking Mc to pay.

They bookstore they visited today was a usual for them. It was close enough to walk, but far enough to avoid running into his brothers. Satan knew Mc really enjoyed old cookbooks and worn fantasy books. They also often searched for children’s books to read to local demon children as part of a school club. While he was initially concerned with them coming into contact with a cursed book, he grew more comfortable after seeing their magical ability and that they always carried an enchanted talisman that Solomon gifted them for that purpose.

Mc was over in the nature section, flipping through a book about creatures in the 3rd ring of hell. Satan found himself in the tomes section again. He, as usual, found himself rooting through the very back trying to uncover hidden gems. He was about to pick up a book he thought Mc might like to flip through it, when he froze. Just a sliver of this book was in his vision, but he already felt the magic oozing from it. It's a wonder he didn't sense it sooner. He put the other book in a hurry and pulled out the book from the back.

It was unlabeled, with a faded green cover and a golden ribbon attached to the spine. It marked a page close to the beginning. The magic radiating from it didn't seem bad in any way. It actually seemed quite positive. He was able to place it quickly after he felt the ribbon sticking out the bottom of the book.

This was most certainly a book infused with an angelic blessing at the very least, but how in the world had this ended up in a second hand book store in the Devildom, of all places. He flipped it over, looking for anything to go off of, but found nothing but a cursive golden letter L etched on the bottom right corner. He was a little afraid to open it, giving that it was in the hands of an angel at some point. After thinking it over, if anything happened to him, Mc would help him as soon as they noticed something amiss. Thanks to the pact, it would be almost instantly.

With the thought of Mc, he slowly opened the book. On the first page and on the inside of the front cover was handwriting that seemed oddly familiar. He struggled to read the words on the page at first due to the sense of familiarity. He suddenly got deja vu, as if he had held this book before. He closed his eyes for a moment to stop the world from spinning. When he reopened them, he felt like crying, and yet, he still wasn't sure why. Once he finally read what was written, he understood why.

On the inside cover, it read "Property of Lilith Morningstar" and near the bottom in large writing was a messy scrawl he recognized as Mammon's handwriting. It said "mammon waz here" with a little drawing of himself sticking his tongue out. A heart in a different color of ink enclosed the message and drawing. On the first page was a note seemingly from Lucifer. Satan would recognize his handwriting anywhere. It was a heartfelt message from Lucifer to Lilith, saying that he hoped the gift reached her well, and that he missed and loved her.

He closed the book for a second and suddenly felt faint. He sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He thought about what he had just read for a moment. The book that he had somehow found, maybe by chance or fate, belonged to his brother's late sister. It was a gift from Lucifer to Lilith while he was away. He realized that's probably why he felt his emotions raging. The Lucifer in him recognized the book, since he had seemingly picked it out himself to give to his sister. How had this ended up in a second hand bookstore? He theorized maybe it had been made in the Devildom and Lucifer had purchased it during one of his trips. But, angel Lucifer would have never done that. He was disgusted by the mere thought of even having to go down at the time, so the thought of him browsing shops was out of the question. Deciding to come back to that thought later, he decided to quickly flip through it, just to see what it was.

As he reopened the book, new waves of magic hit him. He didn't recognize them, but they felt as familiar as his brothers. He guessed their magic was also somehow within this book. But since it was all angelic magic, everything having to do with this book happened before the fall, before he even existed. Much to his dismay, everything beyond the first page was blank. He closed and opened it a few times, but nothing happened. He guessed it might be locked by magic in some way. The thought of trying to magically pry it open scared him again. He was a demon through and through, and since this was blessed by angels, he had no clue what might happen to him if he tried. He was certain whoever blessed this book did not accommodate for whatever he was, but he thought it to be unwise to test the limits.

"Satan. What are you doing on the floor?" Mc walked up to him, holding a few books in their arms.

"Oh, just looking at book on the bottom shelf. I got tired of crouching." He quickly placed the green book down on top of a stack of his other books.

"I get that. Just wanted to let you know I'm ready to be done when you are. Don't rush for me." They turned to walk away, but Satan stopped them.

"I'm done too. I was finishing up." He moved to get up. Mc turned back around to look at him.

"I made great timing then! Here, I'll carry some of these for you." They grabbed the first few books off his stack. He felt his stomach lurch when they touched the green book. He couldn't help but feel nervous with them handling the book, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't want to say anything about it to them, and again, he didn't know why. For now, maybe it was best he kept this to himself anyways. Mc’s expression didn't change and they continued to pile on the books until the green one was in the middle. There was nothing special about that book to them.

"Thank you." Satan made himself say. He picked up the remaining books and they proceeded to the check out together. Today, an older demon worked the register. She was familiar with the pair and had a soft spot for Mc.

"Is that everything for today?" She asked them as she counted the books. Between the two of them, they had thirteen books. Satan handed the demon the needed amount of grim, and waved them on their way. Satan insisted on carrying the bag of books home, since this time there wasn’t too many.

"Let's stop at a café on our way home. I'm dying for something warm to drink right now." Mc grabbed Satan's hand and pulled him in the direction they wanted to go in. He smiled and allowed himself to be dragged off. While they were enjoying coffee together, he was able to temporally forget about the book he had discovered. All of his thoughts were about Mc for the time being.

When they arrived home together, Mc loudly announced that they were there. Mammon came running to greet them. "Mc! I got somethin' for ya! Ya gotta come with me right now!" He grabbed both of the hands and began to pull them away.

"Thank you for the coffee and books, Satan. Tell me about what you bought at dinner tonight." They looked back at him before looking at Mammon again.

"I will. I'll drop off your books in your room. I had a great time." He lifted a hand at them, as a goodbye.

"Mc!" Mammon began to whine.

"Yes, yes. Let's go now." Mammon took off with Mc in tow, leaving Satan stewing in his thoughts again. He went back to his room with all of the books. The other books he had picked out were no longer interesting compared to the Lilith book. However, he didn't want to mess with it while his brothers were awake. The last thing he wanted was them finding out. While he felt bad keeping it from them, something in him was telling him not to show it to them yet. He had promised Mc he would tell them about the books he picked out. The only one he wanted to read was the one about cats. He could easily talk about it to Mc anyways, without having to worry about the Lilith book crossing his mind.

He read until it was time for dinner. Today, it was Asmo’s turn to cook. He was actually a pretty good cook, probably the best in the house. It always turned out well and was plated gorgeous on top of that. He came to the dinner table with the book he hand been reading, still reading. He took his seat across from Mc, not looking up just yet.

“Hey, is that one of the new books?” Satan looked over his book and saw Mc peering at him.

“Yes, actually. It’s a cat book! Cats are the best.” He happily pointed to the picture of a cat on the front. As they ate, the conversation began to drift away from books, and onto something that Satan thought was irrelevant. He tried to go back to reading, but found himself reading the same lines over and over again. His thoughts had reverted to the little green book sitting in a pile of books on his bed. He has buried it, just in case someone happened to walk in.

As Mc mediated yet another argument between Levi and Mammon, he couldn’t find it in himself to silently seethe and glare at his brothers as he usually did. He blankly stared at his book, picking at his food. He was stuck wondering why the book didn’t say anything. He planned what he would do once he got back to his room. He knew he had a book of protective spells somewhere in the house that he might use to protect himself before attempting to interact with the book more.

“Satan. Is everything alright?” Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder, catching him off guard. The table was basically empty now, much to his surprise. It was only Beel, Belphie and himself still seated. Beel was still eating and Belphie was passed out next to him.

“Nothing is wrong.” Satan snapped back after a moment.

“Alright. Please don’t forget do the dishes.” Lucifer retraced his hand, and with one final, unreadable look at Satan, left the room. He was unsure about how to feel about Lucifer noticing something was amiss. He snapped his book shut. He wasn’t really reading it in the first place. He put the book down on the kitchen counter and began absentmindedly doing the dishes. He was lost in though about the book currently buried underneath about twenty other books on his bed.

He finished in record time. He grabbed his cat book, figuring Beel could wash his own dish once he was done. He retreated to his room. He was released to find everything just as he left it. He dug up the green book from his pile, placing all the other books on the floor for the time being. He sat at his desk, running his hands over the cover. Under his little desk lamp, it seemed to sparkle in a way that he hasn’t previously noticed. Once he opened it, he was greeted with what he has seen earlier that day. But, to his surprise, there was more beyond that.

Most of the pages in the front of the book curled from usage. At the top of each page, was a note of the date. Below this, was a diary entry of sorts. Sometimes, it was just a to-do list, or a recipe. Others, he found Lilith’s accounts of her day to day life. He decided to start at the beginning, reading the first ever entry. He hoped to gain a little context of what exactly this journal was and how it worked.

Lilith had written on the first page after the note from Lucifer about how he has sent her this journal while on a trip to the Devildom, stating it was made by a human according to the tag on the outside of the journal. He enchanted it himself to only allow her to see the contents of this journal.

Satan paused his reading for a moment. If it has been enchanted to only allow Lilith to read the journal, how was he able to read it just now? He wasn’t close to her. They never knew each other. As he flipped to the next page to hopefully skim it for context of any kind, the words in front of him began to fade. The ink retracted into the page, from the last letter she had written, to the first. He wasn’t sure what he could do to prevent this, so he just quickly read what he could. The next page was something about how Belphie had wanted to take a look at it and something about Beel. Once he got there, the words has begun to erase themselves. He watched helplessly as everything disappeared. Soon, he was just stuck with the plain book he had discovered that afternoon, and the cover no longer shimmered.

He sighed, flipping through it again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He was about to check out the back cover again when he heard his door being pushed open.

“Satan! Thought I would find you here.” Mc greeted him.

“It’s my room. What did you expect?” He shut the book in a hurry.

“Well, I can just as often find you in the library.” They approached him, touching his face. They outlined his jaw and smoothed his cheeks with their thumbs. He reached for their wrists, touching them with an imploring look.

“What’s the matter?” He petted their hair. They sat down in his lap and placed their head on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry that the journal was right in their view now, but he hugged them close nonetheless.

“I just feel lonely.” They sighed and buried their face in his neck.

“Really? After all that time you spent with Mammon?” He laughed a little at their predicament.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not the same as when I’m with you.” They pouted and puffed their cheeks out. He chuckled a little more at the cute face they made at him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. What can I do for you, my beloved?” He could get lost in their eyes.

“Give me affection! Just kisses will do.” They pointed to their forehead. Satan smiled at them, amused.

“As you wish.” He began to pepper their face in kisses. As Mc grew more needy, the more he satisfied them. One thing led to another, as they ended up in Satan’s bed. They stayed together for the rest of the night, the journal long forgotten.

Early the next morning, after their night of passion, Satan awoke abruptly. He looked around. He was in his own room, but his clothes were scattered around the room. A shirt was hanging by a thread off a tall pile of books. Mc was asleep next to him, their arms wrapped around him. His lamp light was still on. He reached over as far as he could to reach the off switch. Before he could hit it, he saw the journal. He glanced back at Mc. He didn’t want to wake them, but he felt the urge to open it. He reached out to touch it, and as soon as he did, he noticed it began to shimmer like it had before. He was amazed. He quickly flipped as best as he could to a random page with one hand. He could see lots of writing. He shut it again, taking his hands off of it. It remained shimmery.

He decided not to flip through it now, since he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to at the moment. Instead, he noted the time; 4:03 am. Once he woke up, he would check it again to get a rough idea of how long it would stay open for since earlier, he wasn’t sure how long it had been open for. He finally shut the lamp off and let the book flutter closed. He took his mind off the book, and laid back down. He tucked an arm around Mc as best he could without waking them, and drifted back to sleep.

He awoke for the second time that day. Everything was essentially the same as it was earlier except for the time and the noise outside his door. Mc was still asleep next to him, griping him tightly. It was 8:24 am now, and he could hear Lucifer pacing around past his door in the hall. He didn't make any noise. The last thing he wanted was to see his ugly mug first thing in the morning. Because of this, he decided not to leave him room just yet, but he also didn't want to open the journal either. He would, however, check if it was still "open" or readable. He flickered on his little desk lamp again, and was greeted with the shimmery cover. He didn't want to touch it, because he was almost certain he was able to set it off that morning. Once he was able to think clearer, he would revisit that.

Instead, he grabbed the first book he could get his hands on and began to read. He wasn't sure how long he was there, just reading, but eventually he felt Mc begin to stir. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Satan greeted the bleary eyed person snuggled into his side.

“Good morning love. How long was I asleep?” They yawned, making no move to sit up. Neither of them were dressed at the moment anyways.

“A decent amount. Longer than I did anyways.” He shrugged, placing the book facedown on his desk, over the journal.

“Thanks for not waking me. You wouldn’t guess how many times Mammon or Asmo have woken me up way too early. Granted, it’s usually on accident. Asmo with his skincare and Mammon with… I don’t actually know.” Mc rolled on to their side to look at Satan better, throwing one of their arms over his torso. He felt himself growing shy under their sleepy gaze. He knew he wasn't the only one graced with that privilege, but the way they looked at him made him feel so special. He would give them every star in the sky if they asked.

“That makes me all the more grateful that they don’t dare enter my room. Makes it quite the sanctuary, don’t you think?” Satan chuckled.

“Mmm, yes.” They yawned again.

“What do you want to eat for breakfast, sweetheart? Or is it too soon to think about that?” He asked.

“Give me a few more minutes and then I’ll find an answer for you.” Mc closed their eyes again, potentially going back to sleep. He used that time to reflect. His thoughts grew a little grim as he let them wander. That journal kept finding it's way into his mind. How had he been able to find that? What were the chances of that happening? Maybe it would have made a little more sense if one of his brothers had found the book instead, since part of them seemed to linger between the lines. He was a different story, though. The magic within must had been much more powerful than he anticipated.

Even as he turned his head to the side to look at the book again, he saw the pages glimmer in the light that didn't exist. Something seemed... wrong. He hadn't noticed it before, maybe due to the excitement of simply finding it. The circumstances of which he found it in too was bizarre. As a powerful demon, he should have noticed the angelic energy as soon as he entered the book store. He dwelled on this idea. Perhaps last night's activities had had an affect on it. He coughed a little, covering up his embarrassment from the invisible audience. As he thought more, it really made no sense that he just happened to find it. Had it been planted there for him specifically, or was it the journal itself? Just what did this book know? He did consider himself exceptional, but not nearly as much as his brothers. Their story was far more interesting than his own. He was just the consequence of their actions. Whatever the case with this book, he felt the urge to get to the bottom of it, despite the creeping dread in his gut.

He spent the next few days of his reading time picking though every page of the journal. He was able to learn so much about his brothers' days in the Celestial Realm, far more than they had ever bothered to tell him. Perhaps they thought speaking about it might bother him. Whatever the case, he found it strange to refer to them as angels. Lilith wrote lots about the twins and Asmo. She wrote less about the older brothers but it was clear they were just as important to her. He had know Asmo was the Jewel of the Heavens, but the way Lilith described him made him sound like the most amazing thing the world had ever seen. The more and more he read, the more he saw the similarities between himself and her. He too considered Asmo a trusted confidant, and a close friend of his. He too found himself sneaking off with Belphie for mischievous reasons, or spending time with Beel for his quiet, comforting presence. He began to realize how difficult losing her might have been for them. In the past, he knew it was a sore subject, especially among the youngest, but now he could really feel their pain as Lilith wrote about their daily misadventures. What they missed. Would they exchange him for her if given the chance? He shook this thought off, not liking the implications it might have.

Her innocence was painted clearly for him on each page, yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He checked the book again and again for traces of demonic magic but found nothing. The strangest part was that he couldn't even find his own. There was traces of various angels, most of which he didn't recognize, likely from the far gone past. The journal continued to puzzle him.

As time passed, the entries grew more and more chaotic. From her new lover, to the growing tensions between Lucifer and their father. They grew shorter and less carefree. Even her handwriting differed. She seemed to understand the gravity of what she had done. He knew this is when the Celestial War was about to begin. Her last entry was about her lover, again about how enchanting she found them, and how one day she hoped to spend the rest of her life with him, no matter what. He paused for a moment, realizing this entry was written likely days, or even hours before he was born. After that entry, the pages were blank. There were some pages with stray pen marks, but that's all he was able to uncover. He knew the ending to this story. The silence told it all. He sat for a while, reflecting again about everything he had seen. As he was thinking, words began to appear on the page in front of him, in the same handwriting and ink color as he had seen in the entire journal. It was Lilith's. Satan paused. He could tell the journal held magical properties, but this was not something he expected to happen.

"Hello? Anyone there?" The words appeared suddenly. He continued staring at the page until more words appeared. "You can say something you know. Ink will do." Satan began to look around for a writing utensil at these words. Once he found one, he began to pen a response.

"Hello. Are you Lilith?" He wrote down underneath the previous words. He got his own response quickly.

"Yes, I am! How'd you know that?" Satan paused again, about to write more, but was cut off as Lilith began to write more. "Haha! Just kidding. This is my journal. My name is in it. It would be weird if this wasn't me. Who are you, by the way? I don't think I've ever had a visitor." Right away, Satan thought Lilith reminded him of Asmo. He was probably like this when he was an angel.

He stopped before bringing his pen down to the page again. He was unsure on how to introduce himself. During his visit to the past, he went by Sully, which was the stupidest name in his opinion. But, he also didn't want to lie to her. Would it be wrong to tell her his story, and what happened after the war? "My name is Satan. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too! That's a pretty cool name. Interesting for sure." She wrote.

"I don't want to scare you away, but I want to make this clear as to not deceive you." He wanted to tell her the truth. He felt like she deserved to know. After all, he had always felt like she was supposed to be in his place. She even wrote in green.

"Oh, tell away then. I'm all ears. I won't judge, unless you're about to confess some sort of sin to me!" She wrote, most likely jokingly. That made him a little nervous at first, but he continued with the original plan anyways. Maybe this was his way of healing, somehow. He felt better after getting everything out. He told her almost everything. He omitted the part where Belphie murdered Mc. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, anyways. It felt wrong to tell her that her death had driven him to such an extreme. She stayed mostly silent, chiming in with a few questions and stray blots of ink on the pages near his writing, as if she was resting her pen on the page.

"I hope that wasn't too much to take in at once. Much has happened." Satan was still a nervous. He really hoped she wouldn't hate him. He was just the messenger. After all, without her, he wouldn't even exist.

"I won't lie, it was overwhelming at first. But, I'm happy to hear my brothers are doing well without me. It's comforting to know that they have you and Mc now." Lilith drew a little heart next to her message.

"Glad to hear. Sorry to leave so abruptly, but I agreed to meet Mc for an outing shortly, so I will see myself out." He wasn't lying. He had agreed to meet Mc, but it wasn't for another two hour.

"Alright. Have fun! Talk to you later." With that, everything she had said sunk into the page and left no trace behind.

"Goodbye." His words also disappeared. Just like that, their entire conversation was gone. He shut the book. He was glad she didn't object. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to leave early. He felt a little bad leaving her to stew in the information dump, if she actually existed beyond the book being open. Everything about the book confused him. Looking back at it, maybe he made a rash decision. Maybe he shouldn't have info dumped to her like that.

He decided to forget that for now to enjoy his time with Mc. They had an event to attend, and he had to get ready anyways. Later that night, he came back to the journal in order to study it. He opted not to talk to Lilith just yet. The sick feeling in his stomach had returned. Something was wrong with this journal, very wrong. It made no sense, even after chatting to her. She seemed sweet enough, but that wasn't enough to dispel that gross, nauseating feeling. He just couldn't place his finger on what. He felt as if he was losing his mind checking over and over again, for something, anything. But, he found absolutely nothing.

Eventually he got to the point where he was determining if he should burn it or not. He regretted even talking to her in the first place. He wasn't sure why, but he grew uneasy even having Mc in the same house as the journal. Somehow, it felt as if he was talking to someone else, as in not the Lilith who made the original entries. He placed the journal back on his desk, underneath his latest book finds, leaving to find Mc. He eventually found them by the door, putting their shoes on.

"Hey Satan. Good to see you!" They looked up at him.

"Hi, Mc. Where are you going?" He was relieved they were leaving the house.

"Purgatory Hall. I was invited over to play some games. Sol's idea." They began searching for their jacket. Satan noticed it hidden behind Lucifer's big overcoat. He grabbed it, and helped them put it on, thinking hard. "Aww thank you. You didn't have to do that." They beamed at him.

"I wanted to, it's no trouble." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Hey, do you think it's possible that I could come with you. I don't even have to play these games if that's an issue, I just want to be with you." He would feel even better if he was able to be with them, and get away from that journal for a while.

"Oh, of course! I'm sure they would love to have you. Besides, I've basically always got one of you brothers attached to me, they might find it weird if I showed up without one." Mc laughed. "I thought you were planning to read tonight, since I've been taking up almost all of your nights for the past week. Did something happen?" They seemed concerned, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you. Really, I can put off reading again. All time spent with you is precious. It's hard to be away from you, you should know. You're simply enchanting." He took their hand and spun them into his arms.

"Alright, if you say so! We should get going if we want to be on time. I can let them know if you need a little time to get ready?" Mc giggled, buying his excuse. They might have seen though him, but was glad they chose not to say anything.

"I just need my shoes and coat as well. I wouldn't want to hold you up, anyways." He only let Mc go in favor of getting ready. "You know, I'm honestly surprised you aren't already bringing Mammon or Asmo." He told them.

"Me too, actually. Asmo was busy, and Mammon was too distracted with his car repairs to pay attention to what I was saying earlier. I was almost held back by Belphie too. But, I'm here now and I get to spend this time with you." They stood beside him as he tied his shoes and shrugged on his jacket. As the two of them made their way to Purgatory Hall, Mc held his hand so tightly and gazed at him so tenderly, he was almost convinced they were the only thing in the world.

When they arrived, they had plenty of fun. Solomon had arranged a collection of games to play as a group that were randomly decided by drawing slips of paper. To nobody's surprise, Solomon and Mc ended up winning most of them because they were human games. Satan forgot all about the journal. That is, until, he received a phone call in the middle of one of their games. Mc was draped over him with their arms around his neck, also curious about who might be calling them at a time like this. It was Lucifer.

"I told them we were heading out. What could he need?" Mc reached for the phone but Satan stopped them.

"If the call is for me, it's probably to yell at me or something. I don't want you to be on the receiving end of that." Satan rolled his eyes, and brought the phone to his ear, planning to brush off anything he said. He was really only answering because Simeon was in the room, who would answer it for him.

"Come home. Now. You have explaining to do." Lucifer growled through the phone. At first, Satan wasn't worried. He got ominous calls from his older brother like this all the time.

"What is it?" He sighed. Mc laughed a little, causing him to smile. The others began to chat among themselves while he was on the phone. This was normal.

"You know exactly what this is about. On your desk in your room. Underneath three books. Your keys on the left. The pen you used on the right." Satan froze. The smile left his face. Lucifer always sounded serious, but this was one of the few times he sounded like he was about to rip his throat out. He had found the journal. Mc didn't hear what he said, somehow, but noticed his change in demeanor.

"What's the matter, 'Tan?" Mc brushed some hair off his forehead.

"Nothing, my love. Don't worry about it. It's the usual nonsense." He moved the phone away from his ear for the moment, and then back once he was done speaking.

"Let me speak to Mc. I want them home too. Now." The tone Lucifer used to dangerous. Satan knew that was unwise. He didn't know what his plan was, but he didn't trust him at all.

"No. I will come home, but I'm not bringing Mc. I will not needlessly involve them. This will stay between us." Satan began to grow angry. He couldn't help it. Typical Lucifer, complicating matters.

"If you don't come right now, I'll drag you both back personally." Satan knew he wasn't kidding. None of his threats were empty.

"Fine. Have it your way. We'll be home shortly." Satan hung up before Lucifer could respond. By now, the entire room was staring at him. He looked totally different than he had before. He was tense, his rage obvious.

"Are we leaving? What's the matter? Did something happen?" Mc looked at him, concerned.

"I'm heading home to take care of something, but you're staying here. I promise it's nothing serious." He lied through his teeth. He didn't know why Lucifer wanted Mc there, but he knew it couldn't be good. The journal was bad news, and they were involved in no way.

"Are you sure? Lucifer said he wanted me there, right? You know how good I am at sorting out issues in your family. I really don't mind, if that's the issues." They squeezed him a little. They were so caring. Too caring.

"I'm sure. I won't act out or anything. He's probably mad about chores or something. I wonder if Mammon sold his underwear while it was my turn to do laundry again." Satan smiled. They cracked a small smile back.

"Alright. Keep me updated. I'll be waiting for you." Mc pressed a kiss to his forehead before climbing off of him.

"Simeon, before I go, can I have a quick word?" Simeon, who was comforting Luke, turned at the sound of his name.

"Of course." Simeon stood up, gesturing for Mc to take his seat next to Solomon. Luke was seated on the floor between them. Mc looked worried, but moved regardless. Solomon looked around the room, studying everyone's expressions. Simeon walked with Satan to the entry way. "What's the matter?" He asked, holding out Satan's coat for him.

"I want you to place a blessing on this building. Do not let any demon in under any circumstance. Including me. I don't care what they say. I don't have time to explain, but something is very wrong at the House of Lamentation and I don't want a single one of my brothers near Mc." He shoved his shoes on as he spoke. He hastily put on his jacket and turned to look at Simeon one last time.

"I don't know what could be wrong, but I trust you. Mc is safe in mine and Solomon's hands." Simeon let his hands fall to his sides, opening the door for Satan. He watched as he took off running in the opposite direction of the House of Lamentation. He could only stare and wait for him to be a good distance away, before shutting the door. He went back to the living room to find Mc hugging Luke, Solomon with a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Solomon." Simeon said the sorcerer's name. He stood up and walked over to him. "Satan didn't tell me what the matter was, but I need you to do a quick check of the house to make sure nobody but us is in here. Satan requested I bless the house to keep his brothers out." The expression on both of their faces was grim.

"Of course." Solomon shut his eyes and waved his hand. Once he reopened them, Simeon knew he had completed the check. "Nobody but the four of us are here."

"Thank you. Normally I would ask Luke to help me perform the blessing, but I would prefer to leave him alone for now. Will you accompany me?" Solomon nodded. Simeon led him away, leaving the room together, leaving Mc and Luke along together on the sofa in the once full room.

"What's wrong, Mc?" Luke asked them. For once, they had no clue how to respond to the boy.

"I'm not sure. Simeon might know more, but for now, we just have to wait. In the meantime, do you wanna play some more of the games?" Mc hoped to take his mind of the ordeal.

"I don't really feel like it, sorry." He sighed, worried. He had always had concerns about Mc living with demons and them seemed to be coming to fruition.

"That's alright. Do you want to watching something maybe? Simeon made cookies that are cooling in the kitchen, right? We can get those." Mc tried again to get him in better spirits.

"Let's wait for Simeon and Solomon to get back. They might be worried if they return and we're gone." Luke admitted.

"Good point. I'll turn on a movie for now. What do you want to watch?" Mc got up, leaving Luke in their spot.

"Anything." He usually had more to say. Mc could tell Luke was very worried.

"Alright." Mc went through the various dvds Solomon had stored away near the tv. After finding one they liked, they put it on. The two of them watched this movie together since there was nothing better to do. Eventually, Simeon and Solomon returned with said cookies. Rather than sit on the free couch, they all sat together. They could all tell Luke was worried. The desserts remained untouched.

"I have a surprise that I think you'll like, Luke." Solomon spoke up. Luke picked up his head. "I was told that Mc could stay the night, so we can have a big sleepover together. Does that sound good?" Luke perked up.

"Oh, good. That sounds great! I don't want to send Mc back to those icky demons. Where are we sleeping?" Luke sounded excited, making the rest of the room smile.

“We can stay in my room.” Solomon watched as the little angel jumped out of the cuddle pile and ran to gather pillows and blankets.

“It’s nice to see him happy again. I honestly think he might be more concerned than me.” Mc sighed, reaching for a cookie.

“If we knew what was wrong, we would tell you. I just know Satan asked me to place a blessing on the house.” Simeon explains.

"I figured. It's fine. We just need to hope for the best..." Mc stares at the cookie, thinking about Satan and what he might be doing right now. They just hoped he was safe.

ty for putting up with me and not putting out anything for so long... and sorry for the cliffhanger lol. really wanted this out but a. not sure how much longer it will take and b. not sure what I want the ending to be yet! lol

part two soon hopefully sorry to anon for taking so long!!!!

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daydreamsinrosie · 3 months

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Competition: Draco Malfoy x HP’s sister! Reader headcanon, Part 1.

Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this off the wall impulsive thought that I had to write out! Let me know if you would like a part 2 😊.

Themes: Harry is a distant brother, Draco bullying the reader a little, feeling isolated/unwanted, tension!!! (Not sexual).

Being the twin sister of the boy who lived doesn’t live up to the supposed title. In fact it means nothing when you were raised separately and behave simply as strangers towards each other.

Never mind being placed in a different house, finding yourself growing up in the walls of Ravenclaw tower with books and a couple of companions as friends.

However, one way you stand out is your intelligence. Smart is an understatement when you’re regularly competing for the top grades and have your praises sang by Professor McGonnagall, drawing the ire of Hermione and half of Gryffindor House.

“Exceptional. Some of you would be wise to follow Miss Y/N’s lead”. The statement wasn’t enough to hide Snape’s disdain of having to be nice for once, resulting in a small laugh from you and then you getting detention reorganising the potions stores for supposed “immaturity”.

Despite the accolades, you can say you fall under the radar and mainly prefer this. Five years in and you know your place at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy however, doesn’t.

Draco isn’t sure what kicked in during third year, but all of a sudden you became the subject of his greatest desire and the bane of his existence simultaneously.

Of course, he can’t admit that.

He can’t admit that the flush on your cheeks when you answer questions slightly nervously in class gives him a feeling of pride that he can’t explain.

Or that seeing you dance with a Hufflepuff keeper at the Yule Ball led him to almost throwing his drink on any Slytherin who dared tease him about it.

And he definitely can’t admit that watching you play quidditch as Ravenclaw’s star chaser heats his entire body up and he now struggles to look away from you whenever you were near each other.

So how has he gone about showing any feelings towards you all these years? Bullying, namely.

“Professor Snape! Y/N over here has brother dearest’s penchant for attention seeking, just look at what she’s tried to do with her Sleeping Draught!”

In reality, you had just followed the instructions but had attempted to also brew a remedy to repel any sluggishness from the potion.

“Five points from Ravenclaw for sheer cheek, you should know better than to think fame would work on me.”

Or the countless times he’s jinxed your legs in the hallways to where you simply cannot walk without tripping over yourself or someone else.

Or most painfully, the times he’s used Harry’s obvious disinterest in you as a talking point.

“At least brother Potter knows better than to associate with a teachers pet who eats lunch alone. You’re telling me even the ghosts don’t find you good enough company?”

You can say that you’ve been strong enough to handle most of this, but seeing a look in Harry’s eyes where he’s essentially admitting to agreeing with Malfoy was enough to bring you to tears several times.

Right now it’s the start of fifth year.

Draco’s prefect badge is glossy and reflects brightly on his green robes, and he’s ready to solidify his authority whilst waiting in the prefect’s carriage with Pansy gripping his arm for dear life.

What he doesn’t anticipate is seeing you walk through a few moments later, with a blue and bronze badge mirroring his and a small proud smile on your lips as you sit separately from the other prefects.

Truth is, it’s terrifying to be surrounded by people you know that don’t like you, but fake it till you make it right?

Not so easy to do when you get mainly the same patrolling times to Draco and he ruthlessly persues underclass men.

“Detention to you for liking the Weasley’s, and detention to you because a Hufflepuff staying in the greenhouse past curfew sounds lame.”

“Malfoy, they’re only first years.”

“Want me to give you detention for undermining your authority as prefect, Potter?”

You genuinely didn’t have a response to something so stupid, but sheer embarrassment doesn’t stop you from facing Malfoy directly and simply saying “I dare you.”

And from that evening forward, Draco does what he can to push you into confronting him as often as possible, only to turn the tables and create tension that neither of you can easily rid of.

Some evenings whilst checking classrooms, Draco has you pushed against a table wanting to see you push against him and see a familiar pink blush crawl across your cheeks.

Other evenings it’s flirting with you, only to turn it around and attempt to remind you (and possibly himself) that it means nothing and that he’d rather swallow bubotuber puss than be attracted to you.

And suddenly it’s later in term, post Ravenclaw and Slytherin match in which you contributed to the house’s 100 point lead before the snitch was caught, and now tasked with locating any rogue students switching between common rooms at late-night parties.

Despite assumptions otherwise, Ravenclaw and Slytherin students get along fairly well. Maybe a little too well because Filch and Umbridge seem to have problems with “endless snogging.”

It’s a phrase so daft it gets a laugh out of you and Draco, and suddenly he senses an opportunity.

“I wonder what they would think of the two prefects who also play quidditch snogging in the corridor.”

Thankfully you recognise it as bait.

“If only one of the prefects wasn’t an insufferable toad, that could work.”

“A Toad?”

“Worse than a ferret, I presume.”

And now you’re pushed against a wall with barely any air between you both with a glint in Draco’s eyes and his arms on either side of your head.

You’re not sure if it’s the forced proximity from being so close across this first term, but you recognise just how sharp his jaw has gotten.

And you also recognise how easily he can keep you close to him, his lips only an inch away.

Maybe having someone to snog isn’t such a bad thing really.

“I can promise you, you will regret those words.”

“Really? And how are you supposed to do that, Malfoy.”

Draco doesn’t know it’s the confidence in your voice or the look of determination, but he can’t help himself and before he can argue with himself his lips are on yours.

He’s rough, holding your face in his hands and making sure your lips follow his as you instantly melt.

Time doesn’t exist in the minutes between you two as you both focus on nothing but each other, moving your hands to feel the strength of his arms and wanting nothing more than bringing Draco closer to you.

A second passes and his lips briefly leaves yours, whispering “jump”.

You don’t need to be told twice, and now your legs are wrapped around his waist and his lips meet yours again.

Neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both dreading the moment this is going to end.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco x reader #Draco Malfoy angst #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy headcanon #Harry potter headcanon #Harry potter imagine #Draco Malfoy x yn #Draco Malfoy scenario #Harry potter scenario #Draco Malfoy x you

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httpsserene · 11 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟳: 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a cute little shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. witchcraft. familiars. cunnilngus. aphrodisiacs. inherent dubcon. vaginal sex. unsafe sex. sudden orgasm? desperation. coming inside. vague structure and explanation of magic. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: pierre gasly x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: need to know • doja cat

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: inspired by amortentia. what can i say at every fanfic writer's core, they’ve read an unhealthy amount of hp ff’s, i don’t make up the rules. we know pierre is a fiend, but uh, i do not even feel like i truly tapped into his true unhinged power with this. n joy, loves !!!

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

the shop has been open for fifty-five minutes and it’s already been overwhelmed by desperate humans. valentine’s day is tomorrow; and every naive soul is scrambling to get a love charm or potion. the problem with that is: there’s no magic spell or potion able to mirror true love. however, nobody coming into the shop appreciates that answer.

after the third time a customer hysterically screamed at you for saying there’s no such thing as a ‘love spell,’ you made a slight tweak to the doorbell. now, every time the door opens a bass-boosted audio of you screaming, “LOVE POTIONS, CHARMS, OR SPELLS DO NOT EXIST” echoed through the shop. unfortunately, that message did not seem to help. you had to change the way you welcomed customers when they stepped up to the counter.

“good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm, which makes the subject pay more attention to you for twelve hours. this charm doesn’t affect their emotions, you still have to make them attracted to you with your, hopefully, natural charm. are you interested in one, they’re buy-one-get-one free for valentine’s day?”

your customer service grimace smile is stained across your lips as you parrot the same words to each customer. you’ve become an npc. the customers try to interrupt your spiel, but you act as if it’s a piece of unskippable dialogue. if they’re going to come here and harass you over their inability to rizz somebody up—they’re sure as hell going to listen when you speak. at this point, you’ve adopted the ‘it is what it is’ mentality. you’re selling a record number of hyper-fixation charms, you think you might run out of your entire supply hours before the store closes.

at first, you felt a little guilty about selling these charms to the desperate souls. all they want is true love and you can only offer a temporary fix. but after you’ve been screamed at countless times for telling these non-magiques that you can’t supply them with what they’re asking for, the guilt quickly transforms to ‘idgaf.’ with a twitching eye, you kindly told the customers inside the store to wait just a few seconds while you adjusted the door’s charm.

you grab the outer doorknob with a hand covered in lapis powder, and imbue it with your aura to edit the current protection spell. thankfully, you remembered to meditate this morning, so casting comes easily. you breathe deeply, before releasing the handle and you make your way back towards the customers. and suddenly, the amount of people entering the shop decreases dramatically.

you have such a manic grin on your face that the customers inside the building stare at you in mild terror. one of the humans swallows their fear, and asks the question they’re all afraid to hear the answer to, “w-what did you do to the uh- to the d-door?”

the lights brighten around you as your grin grows larger, and you nonchalantly answer, “the door reads your intentions before you step inside. if a customer plans to come in and harass me over what is magically impossible, they get cursed.”

the humans gasp in fear, and you’re eyes widen in realization, “oh! no-no, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad! it’s just a floating rose that screams out ‘i have no rizz’ to every person they talk to for the next forty-eight hours. they’ve ruined their own valentine’s day with their terrible manners,” you state proudly.

the mass of customers inside thins out pretty quickly after that.

thankfully, the door charm seems to do the trick with keeping out unruly folks. you’re able to start working on requests from your usual customers—the barkeep needs her rune for a bottomless keg replenished, the butcher needs his new set of utensils charmed with sharpness, the baker’s assistant needs your help working on the heating charm for the warming-tables, and so on and so forth. you get a new vampire customer today, requesting a sunshade potion—they indulge in telling you that they’re planning to spend valentine’s day outside with their human partner as a surprise. you coo at the vampire adorably as you check them out, and you see their cheeks faintly tint with pink—they must have fed recently. this is why being open for valentine’s day is worth it to you; customers like this remind you that true love still exists.

you wish him luck with his surprise, and hand over the potion, which was made by your true love, pierre. who was supposed to be helping you in the shop about thirty minutes ago. he claimed to have to run out and get a few extra supplies to be able to fulfill all of his orders, but that he’d be back before the shop opened. when he shows his face, the true love between you two may not exist anymore. because you’re going to kill him for hanging you out to dry. you sigh, and make your way into the back storage closet to get a fresh box of dried peonies for the new batch of hyperfixation charms, when you hear the doorbell scream the warning message.

you call-out, “give me one moment and i’ll be right up to help you out! feel free to look around in the meantime!” you summon the box of peonies forward, and spell it to float after you as you make your way out.

turning the corner, you automatically begin your npc introduction, “good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm—oh, it’s just you—ohmygod—how did you pick up my door curse??”

pierre stares at you in a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, as the rose screams “I HAVE NO RIZZ,” at you. you can only laugh, and summon your phone to your hand to take a video. pierre laughs in reflex, still not sure what’s going on, and suddenly he’s being climbed over like a cat tree by your familiar.

“aha!” you exclaim. “i’ve been looking for you all day, ma’am. what pocket of the universe were you hiding in? you always disappear when the non-magiques come around instead of defending me, cat. what kind of familiar are you?”

pierre struggles to wrangle cat off of his head from where she’s fucking up the rose hanging over him. he side-eyes you heavily when he still sees you recording the whole interaction, and you put the phone down before you step over to get cat off of his head. “madame catalytic converter!” you yell with the force of your ancestors.

yes, you named your familiar catalytic converter, cat for short. it makes perfect sense, she improves your efficiency and decreases the chance for any harmful side-effects when you do magic; just like the car part. pierre says that’s why she never listens to you, for giving her a terrible name. when you asked him what he would’ve named her, he said, “probably, escargot, or something.” you said that’s probably why she hates him more.

you remove the curse from pierre with a quick touch of your hand to his forehead, and the rose poofs away. madame catalytic converter, hops away quickly, uninterested in either of you again, and struts away to sit on top of the box of peonies you brought up. you narrow your eyes at your familiar, “oh—so you’re not even going to explain yourself? where were you?”

cat stares at you dead in the eyes, before she looks away and starts licking her calico fur clean, dismissing you. you scoff, rolling your eyes, and turn to pierre, “and where were you, monsieur?” you ask, poking a finger to his chest.

pierre presses a kisses to your cheek in greeting, and raises the one bag he has in his hand as part of his answer, “i told you i was running errands, remember?”

you purse your lips at him, and he smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to try and pull you in for a kiss. you smack your teeth disapprovingly, gripping his jaw with your hand, and holding him back, “yeah, you told me you were getting extra supplies. plural. and, that you’d be back in time to open the shop.”

pierre avoids your eyes, chuckling anxiously.

“i’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but, you’ve only come back with one item, and it’s well past the time the shop opened,” you pause, letting pierre simmer, “explain yourself.”

“okaysoilied,” pierre rushes out, and you hum in shock sarcastically, gesturing for him to continue, “but—but! mon amour, i’ve come back with something that could potentially level up my potion making skills!”

you stare at him unamused, “oh ok—well, show me, what is this wonderful thing?”

pierre shifts on his feet, and you are suddenly afraid to know what he’s bought. if his confidence is faltering, you know whatever’s in that bag cannot be good.

“so, you remember how people were saying the potion shop a few towns over has actual love potions,” pierre starts eagerly, you nod in resignation, already knowing where this is going, “i bought one! well, two actually. i tried to bug the potion maker into telling me what he put in it, but he was so shifty about it. which is completely understandable, if i made a new potion as great as this, i wouldn’t tell anybody my secrets either.”

“okay, pierre,” you sigh, rubbing a hand across your face, disappointed, “why did you buy two of them?”

“oh,” pierre begins, his usual ludicrous smirk returning to his expression, “one for me to study, and one for me to take! the best way to see if it works is to test it out myself.”

you tug his hand off your waist, and step away from him, pointing at him in vindication, “that’s why my curse worked on you! you’re harassing me with this goddamn love-potion shit—you snake, we both know it’s not real!”

pierre groans, following after you as you storm back to the front counter, the peony box floating over as well, cat yowling at the sudden movement.

“oh, come on, mon amour,” pierre pleads, brandishing the love potion at you, “where is your hunger for magical breakthroughs? aren’t you curious to learn how it works?”

“pierre, babe, it doesn’t work! that’s why i don’t care! and, why would it work on you? we’re already a true love’s match. we’re soul-tied!”

“so, there’s no harm in me taking it,” pierre claims, like he’s found a loophole.

“pierre, you shouldn’t,” you warn him. the potions master deflates at your words, and you sigh at the sight of his point. you take a few steps to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss, and your aura swells with pierre’s love passing to you.

“if you do end up taking it, which you probably will anyways, at least take the time to properly study it. you don’t know if they’re any weird side effects,” pierre perks up, his blue-green eyes losing their saddened look immediately. he happily presses a few more kisses to your lips, and pulls away before pressing a kiss to your hand.

“i will! i’m going to go to the back now and start studying it—“

“uhm, no you are not! you still have to help me run this store, sir! i have plenty of things for you to do. starting with cleaning our cauldrons!”

pierre groans in disgust and whines like a child, “mon amour! please, you know i hate doing that. you can do it with a snap of your fingers, why do i have to do it with manual labor?”

you arch a sharp brow at him, and gently remind him of his behavior, “you shouldn’t have lied to me then, hm?” pierre sulks, and moves towards the back to get started on cleaning the cauldrons.

“don’t look so sad—i could’ve had you collecting the eyes of spiders!”

pierre cringes when he accidentally slams the drawer of his desk closed, pausing cautiously to listen for any movement in the house. it’s late, and you’ve gone to bed hours ago; he’s stayed up trying to identify what exactly this so-called love potion is made out of, and what order of processes it was created with. the frenchman is certain that there are at least seven ingredients in the brew: mature peonies, smashed pearls, crushed dates, powdered rose thorns, rose water, and a potion base of moonstone and lapis. it’s odd, because to pierre the potion smells like warmed vanilla, shea butter, a dash of espresso, and a brush of peppermint—but with every extraction he makes from the potion, there’s no sign of those ingredients. in addition to that mystery, he can tell that this potion took a few weeks to prepare and that it needed constant stirring. he can figure out when ingredients were added to the potion based on how much affect the cooking and heat had on them; the dates and pearls were first, followed by the rose thorns, and it seems like the peonies were added last—he just can’t figure out how they were integrated in the brew. were they added in batches, all at once, did they need changes in stirring motion, etc..

putting aside all the unknowns, there is one thing that pierre is sure of: none of the ingredient combinations in this potion would cause any harmful side effects. the powdered rose thorns and crushed pearls are a rare sight in potions but, they create the base of hyperfixation charms and he hasn’t heard of any reports of strange or harmful reactions from these two ingredients. so, the only responsible option for the potions master is to drink the concoction and see if it lives up to be the ‘true love’ potion everyone is claiming it to be.

pierre knocks the draft back quickly and hums pleasantly at the taste, a curious eyebrow raised at how it doesn’t mirror the scent at all. the flavor is sweet and tangy, with a lingering dash of saltiness—it’s delicious. he finds himself wishing he didn’t waste the first potion with experiments so he could taste it again.

the potions master rocks back and forth on his feet impatiently, he expected the brew to take immediate effect, alas, he feels nothing. pierre shrugs, the potion may take longer to kick in if it’s replicating one of the strongest emotions. he leaves his study and makes his way to the bedroom, and right before he enters the bedroom, he stumbles over cat. your familiar looks at him reproachfully, before she pauses and comes over to sniff at pierre. in the dark, he can see the calico’s eyes shrink into pupils and suddenly she hisses up at him, before she apparates into thin air. pierre scratches at his scalp in a confused manner; cat hissing at him and then disappearing, is not out of the ordinary (it reminds him of the you first brought him home and he tried to charm her with a laser pointer—the familiar stared at pierre like he disparaged her family name), he doesn’t know if that was a reaction just because of him, or if it was a reaction to the potion.

he continues with his usual nightly routine before he joins you in bed, dressed in a pair of old sweatpants alone. you pout in your sleep, pierre can feel your aura calling to him, unhappy that he’s not curled up against you. he tucks you into his chest when he settled comfortably on his back. he feels your magic calm, the air relaxing when the force of your influence fades.

the potions master tries to stay up for as long as he can to see if he notices an effect from the brew, but deflates when he doesn’t feel any changes. he knows the chances of this potion working was slim to none, however, he kind of hoped it at least had some effect on him. pierre’s eyes flutter shut as he drifts to sleep, and his last conscious thought is that you were probably right, the potion may not have an effect on true love’s matches.

you squirm awake. it’s boiling hot under the sheets and it shouldn’t be, you placed a cooling charm on the bed. as the fog of sleep unfortunately fades from your mind, you notice that the heat is radiating from pierre. turning around in worry and slight annoyance, you check in on your boyfriend, and the annoyance disappears when you examine his state.

he’s still asleep, but he’s drenched in sweat. his brow is furrowed in what must be pain, and his body squirms across the bed in discomfort. you press a hand to his forehead and hiss at the burning heat from his skin. you groan, already knowing what happened to your dumb potions master—he should be stripped of his title after this. he was working on the damn potion before you went to bed, and he fucking drank it, ignoring your warning, and now, he’s suffering the consequences. you take the same hand that was on his head, and bring it to his shoulder to gently shake him awake. pierre, on the other hand, awakens dramatically, jackknifing upright like you’ve poured water all over him.

the man pants desperately, chest heaving with his stuttering breaths, tongue swiping at his upper lip to clear the sweat gathering there, his teal irises swallowed by enlarged pupils, and his hair is matted and curling against his forehead from the mixture of sweat and heat. his eyes are glazed over, you can tell he’s not quite aware of what’s going on—that’s probably thanks to the incredible fever he’s running—but there’s a hidden glint to them that you can’t puzzle out.

“oh, pierre,” you lean forward, hands coming to grasp at the sides of his face, steadying him, “you fucked around and found out, didn’t you? there’s no chance you’re capable of telling me the antidote to this, it seems. maybe a spell can alleviate the effects briefly enough…”. as you ramble on, mostly to yourself, you fail to see the look in pierre’s eyes change. the hidden intentions you weren’t able to make out are as clear as day now. the haze over his stare is still present, but the confusion has disappeared. only hunger remains.

you startle when pierre’s trembling hands grasp at your waist. you quirk a brow at him in question, but don’t receive an answer, a verbal one at least. you’re suddenly knocked flat on your back and pierre bodily shoves himself between your legs, hovering over you. and the intense look in his eyes is made aware to you; you’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt this ravenous. you press your eyelids closed and whimper under your breath at your revelation: the ‘true love’ potion is a fucking aphrosodiac.

pierre is so hot. he feels his body shivering dramatically as he holds himself on his hands above you. his muscles weaken from the strain of the fever, and he collapses on top of you. his head lands in the valley of your neck, and he moans at the cooling feeling of your brown skin against his face—he needs more of it, he needs you naked. reinvigorated, pierre attempts to wrangle your clothes off, but he’s unable to do much with his shaky limbs. he begins to anger when your sleep shirt fails to disappear, and tries to rip it down the center. you force his hands away, and tug the shirt up and away before tossing it aside, leaving you in just panties. his anger dissipates, and he presses his body against yours again, and a choked groan escapes him at the relief your naked torso gives him, he goes boneless.

the relief lasts for less than a minute, before he starts squirming desperately again—he needs to be closer to you. he suckles marks into your neck, moaning lewdly when he feels your hand tangle in his hair, pulling at it firmly. he fights your grasp, unsatisfied with his unfinished claim on your neck and chest, but he submits when he notices you’re guiding him to your lips.

the meeting of your lips is messy, he can’t manage to find any of his usual finesse. he pants into your mouth in between sloppy, wet kisses, if you can even call them that. his tongue fights against yours, and his hips buck forward at the feeling, which reminds him of the fact that he still has sweatpants on and you have on panties. pierre jerks away, resisting the urge to continue kissing you when you whine out for him so prettily, chest arching upwards, nipples perky and egging him to bite, the bruises on your neck blossoming with reds and purples—he shakes his head erratically, and focuses enough to tug his sweatpants off; he’s never been so happy that he’s not wearing underwear. the skin contact must have done him well, because his hands aren’t shaking anymore as they grasp at your panties. he may not have torn apart your shirt, but the cotton undergarment doesn’t stand a chance, he rips through it like water.

the sound of your shriek at his actions is muted in his ears, and he barely registers the feeling of you shoving at his shoulder in irritation. pierre can only see your pussy. a broken whimper escapes him as he stares; his eyes tunnel to your throbbing hooded clit, the way your entrances tightens and relaxes, like you’re taunting him to fill you up, and you’re soaked for him, lips shining with your wetness—he should just get a brief taste, before he fucks you. he lays between your legs, hands coming around to grip at your thighs to firmly hold you against his mouth, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before.

the potions master vaguely hears a pleasure-filled scream burst from your chest as he broadly strokes of his tongue against your vulva to collect any wetness you’ve spilled. he muffles his moan into your pussy at the taste, and shifts downward to prod his tongue inside of you to coax more of your juices out. he feels your hips try to buck him off of you, and he growls into you, tightening his grip on your thighs to allow you no escape. you leak steadily into his mouth, even as you try to run from the constant barrage of his lips, tongue, and teeth. pierre’s brow furrows with the effort he puts into eating you out—your taste is addicting. it’s a mouthwatering combination of sweet and tangy, with lingering saltiness. he has a small lapse of deja-vu at your flavor, but it’s quickly dismissed at the drag of his cock against the bed.

pierre whimpers into you at the pleasure flaring behind his eyelids, as he begins to hump against the bed. he switches from forcing his tongue inside of you and moves his attention to your clit, suckling and twirling his tongue on the button. it sounds like he’s making out with your cunt. your thighs to clamp shut around his head, your hand scrambles to tug at his hair and hold him exactly where you want him, and you start rubbing your pussy against him. fuck, how did he not realize how hard he is. pierre sobs into your pussy overwhelmed, he wants to keep eating you out, and the friction of his cock against the bed feels so good. he knows being inside of you would be better.

the frenchman breaks free from the grasp of your legs, and scrambles back upwards, not giving you time to register the change in position before he breaches your entrance. when the head of his cock pops inside of you, he throws his head back and moans erotically at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. he starts to burn hotter. pierre struggles to hold-off from thrusting into you in one smooth motion—he’s usually cautious when he fucks into you for the first time because he’s well aware of his size and how you struggle to take it all in one sitting. he whimpers hotly, and picks his head up to look at you—and all sense of waiting for you to adjust leaves him head. a line of drool has slid down your cheek, your eyes have rolled back in pleasure, and the sounds of your squeals of pleasure from just the tip of his cock break his restraint.

the man drives his cock deep inside of you in one smooth thrust, and he shudders on top of you, humming in satisfaction at the pulsing grasp of your cunt. pierre feels how he forced the air out of your lungs, your corresponding scream still rattling in his eardrums, but he can’t help how he grinds his cock into you, one, two, three times. he groans out, and starts making proper thrusts into you—he needs to fuck you properly. one of your hands sneaks between your joined bodies and presses at his navel in a weak attempt to halt his movements. pierre knocks it out of the way, before he brings both of his hands to tighten on your waist and starts fucking you with a purpose. it’s selfish and dirty; in a way pierre usually isn’t. he uses himself as a tool to make you cum first all of the time, but you can tell tonight, this is all about him—your orgasm is just a byproduct. he gathers you up in his arms, making sure there’s no gap of air in between you, and starts pumping his hips into you deeply, not pulling out of you any more than a few centimeters.

it’s feels so pleasurable that it could be torture. he’s applying pressure against that spongy spot on your walls so consistently, that you’re legs have already started shaking. he’s fucking you up the bed with the force of his thrust, and he’s conscious enough to place a hand on the headboard to make sure he doesn’t shove you up to hit your head. pierre’s making these sweet, whiny, whimpers, that he attempts to muffle into your neck as he feels himself start pulsating inside of you, dancing along the edge. he feels your nails claw into his back, and it’s like his senses are suddenly returned to full strength from where they were clogged with fuzz. he can hear you try and moan out for him, but his thrusts are so powerful that you keep choking on your words.

he catches the ending of your warning, “pierre-oh—m’ gonna cum! oh, fuck!”

the clenching of your orgasm pushes him into his own, and it’s the most intense crash of pleasure he’s ever felt. his vision whites out and it feels painful in a way only too much pleasure can give. his whole body shakes through each wave of pleasure, and he feels lightheaded at the feeling. pierre can’t even do anything more than jerk his hips forward to pump through the aftershocks, he falls limp on top of you, pinning you under him. his skin feels raw and blown open, and there’s a ringing noise in his ears. he whimpers against your neck, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and then he’s pretty sure he faints for a few minutes.

when he comes back to the present, you’re humming underneath him, hands rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion. pierre brokenly moans against your throat, oversensitive. you shush him, and scratch at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes but won’t admit to. his breaths slowly even out against your skin, and in a croaky voice he starts talking, “the potion—it smelled like the shea butter of your lotion, the vanilla and coffee of your perfume, and the peppermint of your aura.”

you pause in your motions, and softly ask, “really?”

pierre shifts, hissing at the jostling of his cock still inside of you, and settles again, raising his head up to make lazy eye contact with you, “yeah,” he whispers quietly, before carefully pulling out of you and falling onto his stomach next to you.

you nuzzle up to his side and press kisses against his shoulder, before you offhandedly mention that his fever’s gone down. pierre’s fighting the call of sleep, and mumbles something into the pillow that you can’t make out, and he turns his head to the side so you can hear him, “i dunno how, mon amour, but it tasted like you too.”

you stare at him with wide eyes, neither of you are aware of an aphrodisiac of this caliber. pierre falls asleep, and you close your eyes in a quick prayer—this potion better have run its course, you won’t survive another round of that.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

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yourlocalsweetbunbun · 2 years

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[ ❤️Can we have it as a pet?]

Fanart : Lullabyfell! Frans ( Creator: Me @yourlocalsweetbunbun )

🤍 —You can't have that as a pet, stick eyes —

❤️ — Why not? If it's cute, look at the little legs she has. . . Bone-Hed look at them they are soft!! —

🤍 — I don't know, you'll say . . It will be that she is eating your fucking arm!! —

❤️ — There was no need to yell at me like that either. . . Whenever I'm down to 0 HP it goes back to my previous save po. . . —

🤍 — Fuck not again, Frisk! Shit I have to go back again to the previous point of. . . —

❤️ — Buu~ Did you miss me? —

🤍 How did you come back so . . Or did you store near here, right? I'll take your silly smile as a yes —

❤️ — Ok back on topic. . . Let's have him as a pet, and you can't say no —

[ . . . ]

I hope you liked it, I'll be uploading little things about Lullabyfell from time to time I hope you like it, also remember that if you share and follow me you help me a lot.

Likewise, my questions are open in case you want to tell me something.

✨❤️

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theehorsepusssy · 1 year

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Did you ever get in to Brian Jonestown Massacre or The Dandy Warhols?

true HP story

So I'm the cheese manager at the grocery and every few days I'm finding hunks of manchego with small bite marks ditched behind random boxes of cereal and chips and shit. I'm trying to think who is seen in the case on previous days with small children anywhere near the Spanish cheese set and figure it's this regular chick and her daughter for no reason other than they were there. So now I'm following them around the store anytime I see them come in trying to catch them stealing my cheese until a co-worker calls out to me "jesus, you starfucker. Leave them alone" Then I finally realize she is Zia from Dandy Warhols who lived down the street. I think I told her about it years later and I don't think she found it funny cuz I can't remember her reaction or if I ever really did own up to it and told her I thought she was the Manchego Nibbler. I constantly trying to get some Canadian Gluten Free cracker for her but couldn't and she seemed always kinda annoyed with me. Anyw ay. I like them both okay. I've seen both live. The Dig movie is on the Tubbie Channel this month.

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hbprophetie · 1 year

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Hello. Nothing to do with Snape or HP this time, and I'm sorry to annoy anybody with my feelings right now so please if you don't care about hearing anything a bit personal (and I do not blame anyone for that!), then do not feel any shame in skipping this post! (It's nothing of real importance anyway and I'll continue to make HP related posts!)

(I might delate it latter. I'm not especially super fond of exposing my feelings but if anyone want to talk about it I'll be very happy to do so)

I have very bittersweets and a rather hurting feelings about something, and I thought that maybe it is an experience that has ever happened to someone, and that maybe that someone would know how to cope with it and give me advices. At least, I think it may make me some good to get it out of my chest, even if it's a bit shamefull to expose.

I have been leaving in Japan for about 10 months now because I studied the language in France and had the chance to be able to participate in a cultural exchange. I've been frequenting a University in a little city in countryside called Tenri, made a lot of encounters of peoples from all over the world, with different cultures and languages.

Now the date of my departure is nearing, and while I'm not sure if I'll move back to France or move in Tokyô to find employement, most of my new friends will go back to their own home countries and I will for sure not be going back to Tenri before a very long time.

I'm already very sad about the goodbyes I'll have to do in the next 2 months, knowing that some peoples I'll probably never see again and I shared such incredible experiences with them that I already know how leaving them will be difficult. At least, I know that those feelings will in some great extend be mutual, and that I'll not be alone to be sad to part ways.

But, my biggest apprehension is to say goodbye to the Japanese coworkers, with whom I have been working for a few month as a part time job outside of my studies. I have been working in a Japanese convenient store and while it has arguably been one of the most difficult and challenging experience of my stay in Japan (because of the intensity of the job itself but moreso because of the difficulties of language barrier, both when dealing with clients and my colleagues), it ended up being one of the (if not the) things that brought the more happiness and rewarding feelings in my daily life. This work provided me with a feeling of belonging and some sense of confidence in myself in a moment I felt very isolated and helpless. Now, I realise that in one or two month, it will be over for good. Because this experience was very intense, I developped very strong feelings of loyalty and attachement towards my colleagues, that I know I should rather not have developped. I understand very well that they are unilateral, and that this is very normal because while for me it's an extremely out-of-comfort-zone experience that makes everything unique, for them I'm most probably just another temporary part-time employee - who looks a bit limited and awkward because not being able to apprehend the language perfectly, at that.

Therefore, I feel a big sadness at the idea that the farewell will be very hurting for me but most naturally not for my collegues. Japanese peoples are very kind, but they have a very different way of thinking than wersterners especially when it comes to social relationship and they are very reserved about expressing feelings. Therefore, I don't know if I can tell them what I feel to any extend without causing them uneasiness and maybe incomprehension (because, maybe for them we are not that close - my strong affective response is caused by my own circumstances) - and this is only if I'm able to express my feelings in Japanese, which is one of the most difficult things to do in any other language than your own. I'm very sad about parting ways, that I'll not be bold enough to communicate my gratitude, that this experience may not have real closure and that they might forget about me a few weeks after my departure.

It's not the first time I have to say goodbye, I graduated from schools and said goodbye to close friends and coworkers before. But never to people who live in the other side of the world from where my hometown actually is. This is the first time I have such intense feelings towards it. And some of these feelings I never had before.

It will be alright in the end, but for now I'm affraid about missing opportunities and not having a chance to be honest and sincere.

Is there anyone who ever felt those things, or would have advices of how to deal with it, I wonder.

#not harry potter related #personal #not snape #real life #irl

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msbarrows · 9 months

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I feel a sudden, urgent need to rant, probably because I just spent a ridiculous amount of time on simply confirming that, yes, the local Best Buy's Geek Squad is an authorized service centre for HP, and all I need to do is walk in and drop off my laptop. Like, the HP web site helped me locate any service centres near me (though it kept being convinced I was in southern Ontario, not up around Sudbury). The Best Buy web site confirmed there's a Geek Squad centre there. Their "Chat with an agent" link is a dirty filthy lie, however, as when you phone the number provided, you end up on an automated voice mail system that at no point actually gives you an option to speak to a human, and instead eventually hangs up on you after (unhelpfully) offering to text or email you links of where to go to get service via their web site.

I eventually resorted to trying the live tech support chat option, where the agent (also potentially just a bot responding to keywords) admitted that, yes, they do tech support, it's strictly walk-in no appointment needed, and that, oh yeah, personnel in-store can't be reached by phone.

JFC Best Buy at least have your damn web site or voice mail tree have information like that AVAILABLE RIGHT THERE. That was all I needed to know. I shouldn't have to jump through hoops for a quarter of an hour or more just to confirm that yeah, you do HP support, and yeah, I can just bring in and drop off my laptop.

...now I just need to get said laptop there. Brother has offered that if they're open late enough, he can drive it in after work, weather permitting. Also, if there was a non-Best Buy option, they would so be getting my business instead.

#Darkomen Laptop #Best Buy #Geek Squad #This has been a rant

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nancylou444 · 2 years

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Turns out it wasn’t my computer, it was the modem.

I called HP. I figure I’m paying $15 a month for them to help me with my HP products. I don’t use it that often, but when I do, it’s worth the money.

Anyway, the tech couldn’t even gain control of the computer because the connection kept dropping.

So I called Optimum. Their tech tested the line and found it was fine, the problem had to be the modem.

Luckily there’s an Optimum store near by, so I went and exchanged modems.

And now everything is running smoothly.

#lmao time for a new tag #modem issues

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jow99 · 2 years

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London to somewhere out there ✈️

Well things redeemed themselves this morning as breakfast was a lovely buffet. I had my fill of Cumberland sausages and HP sauce 😋. The next high point was knowing we could leave our bags while we went out and about.

The low point came when we saw our seat allocations - nowhere near each other. I know we should be grateful they got us on a flight (well maybe not, it was their ineptitude that we missed our original flight), but I was stuck in the middle of a middle row - awesome 🙄.

After breakfast we chilled out in the room giving our clothes maximum time to dry before we had to check out. We then headed to the terminal and customer service where happily they were able to get us seats together.

That done we caught the Underground in to London. First stop a walk through Harrods and a look at the Christmas display on the front. Then we crossed the road and had lunch at Cafe Concerto. It looked lovely with all the chandeliers and we had a nice lunch. We then had a bit of a wander before ducking into Fortnum & Masons for a glass of bubbles in their wine bar.

Before heading into Fortnum & Masons we checked out a book store pretty much next door that we think was where the tavern was that Jose worked in a long time ago.

All was going well and then it was time to start heading back. The last time I was in London was 2017 and I had a lot of change and some notes left from that trip. I therefore decided to pay for our bubbles with cash and use it up. Bizarrely they told me the pound coins I had and the pristine 5 pound notes were the old ones and they wouldn’t accept them, but the grotty 20 pound note was fine. I was completely flummoxed but didn’t really have time to worry too much about it. Hopefully next time I’m here I can get them changed at a bank 🙄

Anyway, we caught the Underground back having enjoyed our brief time in London. We collected our bags and headed to our terminal and the lounge to resume our convoluted trip home. As we sat down with our first glass of bubbles it was 53.5 hours since we’d left our apartment in L’Escala.

So hopefully this is it for the blog for 2022 and in 20 something hours we’ll be back In Sydney 🤞

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hpalloy · 4 months

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The Benefits of Purchasing Hammer Tools Online

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In conclusion, the advantages of buying hammer tools online are apparent. From convenience and selection to competitive pricing and customer care, online shopping is a quick and easy method to get the tools you need for your projects. Whether you're a professional trades person or a do-it-yourself enthusiast, using e-commerce platforms allows you to quickly and easily locate an ideal hammers tool, improving your level of productivity in the workshop or job site.Find Hammers online at best price to suit your needs and budget.

#DIYTools #OnlineShopping #HammerTime #ToolDeals #OnlineToolStore #HammerShopping #Hammer tools online #Club hammer with handle #Sledge hammer head only #Soft faced hammer with handle #Hammers online at best price #HP alloy steels & mill store #Hand tool kits Mohali #Buy power tools online at best price #Power tools shop near me

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siriuslythatbitch · 2 years

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I posted 3,175 times in 2022

That's 2,697 more posts than 2021!

140 posts created (4%)

3,035 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fuckboyregulus

@elder-millennial-trash

@dontbeanassbutt

@zackisontumblr

@classicdaisycalico

I tagged 265 of my posts in 2022

#sirius black - 91 posts

#remus lupin - 90 posts

#wolfstar - 87 posts

#marauders - 58 posts

#thank you for the ask! - 55 posts

#hp marauders - 51 posts

#remus x sirius - 44 posts

#marauders era - 35 posts

#my friends are so talented - 33 posts

#james potter - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 77 characters

#i came out to have a good time and i'm honestly feeling so attacked right now

My Top Posts in 2022:

I see it's time for our semi regular 'hey minors could you fucking not' chat. So Miss B is gonna have to school you again apparently.

JUST BECAUSE YOU DONT LIKE SOMETHING DOESNT MAKE IT BAD

Read that, repeat it, internalize it, fucking live it. You do not get to dictate an authors right to write what they want. That is not your prerogative and quite frankly it's disgusting for you to do. You wouldn't pull this shit with a GoT book. You don't care about the fact that there is teenage rape in that and teen pregnancy and incest. But because these authors are 'accessable' you decide to attack them. No that's not gonna work bud.

Fun fact teenagers fuck. I fucked as a teenager and I damn well know my friends did. It's not a secret and I wish to fuck there had been someone to write a queer sex experience when I was growing up. You should be bowing down to these authors for providing you with something we never had at your age instead of trying to shame us into not writing.

Now I know it's hard for you to understand but life doesn't just end when you become a parent or turn 30. We have liked this series our entire lives. You weren't even a twinkle in your parent's eyes when this Fandom started. You do not get to claim it as yours. This is our baby. We nurtured and tended to it until it became what it is today and like fuck are you going to take it from us.

Speaking of being an adult an adult is an adult period. The age doesn't matter. You are 18 congrats you're and adult now. You're 45 or 89 or 19 it doesn't fucking matter. You are an adult. And funny thing, adults fuck other adults. That's how the world works. As long as it is consensual it's none of your concern how "adult" you think they are or aren't.

Honestly for every whiney post I see about an age gap im adding a year to the gap in my next fic between the pairing. Just fucking try me bitches. I am so done with your filtering bullshit. Fight me I promise I'll win.

29 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

Send Up a Signal, I’ll Throw You a Line

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37354114

It was three on a Tuesday and Sirius was near comatose at the counter. They’d had one customer in the shop all day, a fifty-something bloke looking for a Jefferson Starship record. Once found he proceeded to lecture Sirius on classic rock for the better part of an hour. Apparently, the man thought him completely ignorant of any bands at all. Despite the fact that he was wearing an Eagles t-shirt and worked at a bloody record shop. Not that he was surprised. Every man over thirty-five came in to see a man in his mid-twenties and assumed he must know nothing but Green Day and Foo Fighters. At this point, he was used to it, but that didn’t mean it made his exasperation with it all lessen.

“How’s it going down there, Black Dog?” His uncle called down from the upstairs that doubled as the man’s apartment and employee break room. Sirius couldn’t keep from grinning at the familiar nickname. Alphard had been the one to introduce him to classic rock in the first place. When his parents had been too busy to deal with him and his brother they’d come to the record store to spend time with their uncle.

He couldn’t have been more than four when he began grabbing records from the man’s collection upstairs, choosing them by the pretty art at first. The blond man, who he later learned was his uncle’s partner Nicholas, was always all too happy to man the shop for a while as he indulged his nephew’s newfound love for the music of their youth.

Nick had always found the fact that they were all named after constellations fascinating. It was that connection and Sirius’ particular fondness for Led Zeppelin that had dubbed him Black Dog. A name that stuck well through his teens and into adulthood. Black Dog was as much his name as Sirius at this point. It never failed to make him smile.

“I’ve seen legislation passed faster.” He groaned. The other man laughed at his joke. It was well known that their family had a distaste for both his and his Uncle’s career choices. Blacks were known for going into politics or becoming solicitors at the very least. His mother, father, and brother were all involved with it in one way or another. Fortunately, the idea of having a son without a uni degree compelled his parents to pay for it regardless.

Sirius didn’t regret his choice in the slightest. Music had always been his passion, and one his uncle had always indulged. Alphard was peering at him from the stairs. He’d moved just low enough to keep him in his line of sight.

“Nick is whipping up a batch of cinnamon scones now. I’ll bring you a few when they’re done.” In his younger years, his partner had been the pastry chef at multiple Michelin star restaurants. They often benefited from his penchant for baking when bored.

“Life may be worth living,” Sirius responded, completely missing the tinkling of the bell from the front of the shop. His uncle hadn’t. A sly smile crossed his face as he glanced across the room. Eyes flicking back to his nephew he replied.

“Perhaps there’ll be another soon enough.” The man winked, familiar grey eyes shining with mischief before disappearing back upstairs.

“Wha?” He tried to ask, shaking his head at his uncle before turning back to the store.

Sirius wasn’t sure what he might have expected to find when he glanced across the space, but this wasn’t it. A man in a dark brown cardigan had his back to him. His hair hung in sandy brown half curls that looked soft in the warm light. Even from across the store he could tell the man was a virtual giant. Sure, Sirius was shorter than your average bloke, a fact his best friend James loved reminding him of, but this man had to be well over six foot tall. He wanted to get a closer look though. It took him far too long to remember he worked at the bloody store and had every reason to approach the man.

“So… Do you come here often?” Sirius said, mentally berating himself for the cliché pickup line.

“Uh no, actually.” The other man laughed. His head was still downturned, long tan fingers rifling through the albums in the centre rack. The dexterity with which he did so did very unfortunate things to Sirius. Especially since he was at work, in the record shop, where his uncle was currently upstairs and well within earshot. “I had a friend tell me about this place, and I thought I’d check it out.” Finally, the man turned to glance at him. Sirius’ eyes went wide at the sight.

His lips were plush and a deep pink, one corner cocked up in amusement. His nose was almost button and utterly too adorable for Sirius’ good. The silvery band of a scar that ran across it just added to the urge to know this man inside and out. It was his eyes that were the real knockout. They were a shade of dark green, the kind of green that reminded him of warm summers spent in the countryside or his favourite jumper. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw flecks of gold or perhaps amber filtering through them. It was as if they glowed in the light and Sirius was desperate to lean in and examine them closer. Swallowing hard he attempted to cover his instant attraction to this man.

“Is there something I can help you find?” Sirius could tell his voice was a bit strained. Fortunately, the other man didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care. Sure, he had no doubts that he was attractive, but there was no guarantee this guy was into blokes. He prayed to deities he had never been certain existed, that he was though.

“Yeah, actually.” Fuck. He’d been so distracted by the man’s appearance that he hadn’t really registered his voice. It was a smooth baritone that flooded his senses in the way that Alphard’s records had when he was a child.”I was looking for a Steve Miller Band record.” He had the faintest Welsh accent, the vowels leaving his tongue like music. Sirius was reminded of a much fitter Tom Jones.

“Oh, yeah, no, you’re in the completely wrong place for that.” He said, whipping around and making his way deeper into the store. “That’s where we keep all of the newer albums, anything from the naughties onwards.”

“Ah, well that would make sense.” He laughed behind him. The sound sent shivers up his spine, and he was glad he could play it off while walking.

“This is the section you want.” Sirius came to a stop in front of an enormous back wall. There were framed and signed classic rock records hung above a multi-tiered record holder. It ran from the staircase to the wall, wrapping around toward the counter. They truly did have the best collection in all of London, a fact his Uncle, and okay maybe Sirius too, was proud of.

“Woah.” The man’s eyes went huge as he took the setup in. “That’s quite the inventory you have here.”

“This isn’t even all of them.” Sirius laughed, thinking of the storage room where they kept the particularly expensive records. It took Sirius by surprise when the other man smiled at him. Not the half-smirk before, but an actual grin. His abdomen fluttered in a way he decidedly was not letting happen. Instead, he did his actual job “So do you want a specific album, or..?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He could have sworn he’d seen a slight flush to the man’s cheeks, but put that down to wishful thinking. “I was hoping you’d have a copy of “The Joker”.”

“I know we have at least one copy, but my uncle stocked it so we may have to dig for a bit.” Sirius fought a smile at having an excuse to spend more time with the mystery man. “You take that line, and I’ll look through this one.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He put on a jokingly solemn expression that had Sirius laughing despite himself. The other man let out an amused huff but turned toward his stack of records.

Unfortunately, or if he was honest with himself, which he steadfastly attempted never to be, quite fortunately, the two lines of records were quite close together. It was great for someone browsing alone. For two, however, it was close quarters. The cardigan covered arm of the other man brushed lightly against his bare one. At first, he’d assumed it was an accident, but then it happened again, this time staying in contact in some way. He bit his lip trying to keep his focus on the records and not the slide of the other man’s arm against his. Even through the garment, he could feel the radiating body heat and Sirius wanted to roll around in it like the dog his uncles had nicknamed him. This close he could smell the woodsy scent rolling off him. There was a faint hint of books, but the exceptionally old kind his parents had kept in the library of his childhood home. Somehow for once, the reminder didn’t make him want to bolt for the nearest exit. Contrarily, it made him want to press as close as possible, to claim the smell as his own. Christ, maybe he was a dog.

Sirius concentrated on the records instead, flicking past the Sex Pistols, The Smiths, and Stereophonics. At least he was at the st’s.

See the full post

34 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

Wolfstar

Accidentally married

Intimate Artistry

You spoil me so, Marigoals! I'll make this EXTRA special for you, babby<3

Remus opens up a tattoo parlor in Diagon Alley. He's done some research on basic charming for the designs, but has some he doesn't want to try out on his regular clients just incase. Sirius loves being his tester, which has resulted in quite a few tattoos (That Remus would love to trace with his fingers, tongue, and well anything Sirius would let him really). It's great, but it also means he's running out of room. Remus has come across some odd runes that he is pretty sure are meant to make the tattoo guaranteed not to fade, but he's not positive. Sirius decides he wants a wolf and dog baying at the moon on his hip, which means he has to take off his pants and use towel to try and cover. There's a lot of fumbling trying to keep from touching Sirius' cock, which just so happens to be making itself more obvious with each touch of the needle. (What can I say, he's a masochist and it's Remus afterall.) Both men are panting by the time he finally finishes tracing the last rune in invisible ink, but it doesn't have the effect either thought. A quick burst of pain has him gripping his own hip, working down his bottoms just enough to see the top of the very same tattoo he's just inlaid in Sirius' pale skin. Sirius, who has always been better at runes than Remus looks over the book and realizes the tattoo wasn't bound to his skin permanently but bound them to each other. And well, was that really so bad?

36 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

Innocent Physical Contact and I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On Perciver (Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood)

Ooookay. First time thinking about this ship, but I'm excited so let's go. It's their 5th or 6th year and they've been the only two sharing their dorm just them since their first year, but things have gotten tense. Percy has tried to stay out of the dorm as much as possible and Oliver can't figure out why. He comes back from quidditch practice one day early because there was some issue or another and surprises Percy who had memorized his schedule. Percy has gay panic and makes to leave but Oliver stops him in the doorway with his hand on his chest. He demands that Percy tell him what's going on and after some very intense yelling Percy finally admits that he's pretty sure that he has a crush on him and the sight of him in that Quidditch uniform does things to him. Oliver definitely didn't think about what his uniform might do, but is very pleased with this revelation so takes it as a win and just kisses him. There's delightful frottage, Percy makes him keep the uniform on while he blows him (Because it's hot that's why) and it's just a lovely smutty time.

50 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay we're gonna have a fun time today because I am fucking enraged. It's clear that people have no clue what polyamory actually is or how a HEALTHY poly relationship works. I'm not just talking a triad, because outside of fiction those are fairly rare. Since apparently the cishets control the narrative I think it's about time I cleared some shit up. The key to polyamory is communication. THAT DOES NOT MEAN CHEATING AND SAYING IT'S FINE BECAUSE "Hey I'm poly"! There's a certain fic that tries to excuse this behavior and honestly I'm disgusted that it's so fucking glorified. That is NOT polyamory. That is cheating, plain and simple. If you want to write that that's fine, but call a spade a fucking spade. Don't you dare use a healthy and valid relationship choice to excuse your character's bad choices.

As a member of the queer community you should fucking know better. You wouldn't say being Bi or Pan is a reason to allow cheating, and if you would get the fuck out. I am tired of putting up with bi and pan phobia in the queer community. The hets fuck us over enough as it is, why the hell would you add to it?

I am polyamorous. I am in healthy and consenting relationships. I am fucking valid and am not a cheater or greedy or any of the bullshit that you all seem to perpetrate. I am so fucking done with you using my life as an excuse for your shitty writing. Don't pit partners against each other, don't make them keep from working out their normal feelings so it's healthy, and for fuckssake DON'T TRY AND COVER INFIDELITY WITH POLYAMORY!

Have a fan-fucking-tastic day, and think about what you say before you say it next time.

81 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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shop-korea · 8 days

Video

youtube

BEFORE - JOANA - BLK - FOREIGNER MOM - OF

TWINS - GREEN - SHIRT - CITY - OF - MIAMI - FL

HAD - ME - HANDCUFFED - SHE - SAID - SHE

GAVE - JESSICA - 2 PAPERS - DIRECTLY FOR

SHE - WENT - 2 - LITTLE - HAVAN - SOCIAL YES

SECURITY - OFFICE - 2 - GET - IT LET - ME

SIGN - PAPERS - 2 - RELEASE - BENEFITS

LETTER - WELL - GUESS - WHAT - SHE LIED

NEVER - GAVE - 2 - JESSICA - PREGNANT

NOW - LONG - BLOND - HAIR - WAS - THE

HAIR - OF - JOANA - NOW - JOANA - JUST

BLK - HAIR - TALLER - THAN - 5′5 FT - WELL

I - SCREAMED - AT - OTHER - PLACE

NOT - NEAR - BUS 21 - IN - MIDDLE OF

CAMILLUS HOUSE - IS - 1555 - YES AND

GIRL - WAS - GOING - 2 - SEND - ME - TO

CAMILLUS HOUSE - I - SAID - I’M - HERE

2 - SEE - JESSICA - WELL - GUESS

WAS - THERE - 8A - 1P - BUT THERE

WAS - EMERGENCY - SO - WENT TO

LABRE - PLACE - WELL - I - WAS - SO

ANGRY - AT - OTHER - PLACE

WITH - COMPUTER

SO - COULDN’T - PRINT - FAST - ANYMORE

NOW - WANTS - BACK - UP - CODES - HAD

2 - BUT - NOTEBOOK - WAS - STOLEN

WITH - RECOVERY - CODES SHOPIFY

WITH - CHECKING - ACCOUNT - NOS

THAT’s - GONE

COULDN’T - GET - 2 - PAGES - OF - LATEST

RECEIVING - SSI - STILL - TODAY - THE

ORIGINAL - NOV - 2023 - WASN’T - GOOD

ENOUGH - 7 PAGES - SHE - WANTED

SO - TOLD - HER - DON’T WORRY - WILL

NO - LONGER - TAKE - HER - 1 BEDROOM

I’M - EXHAUSTED

ARRESTS - 01 OCT 2024

3 MONTHS - STATE - PRISON

CABLE - AIR CONDITIONING - FREE - I YES

WOULD - HAVE - 2 - PAY - STEAK - GREAT

AND - PLENTY - OF - FOOD - PER - MEAL

SOME - STATES - ARIZONA - THEY - HAVE

SWIMMING - POOL - EXERCISE - EQUIPMENT

AND - WITH - FELONY - I - GET - JOB - YES AT

PAPA JOHNS - FULL - TIME

MOTHER - TERESA - 2 WEEKS - STILL HAVE

TOLD - HER - CAPITAL - ONE - SITUATION

ANOTHER - FILIPINA - FEMALE - HELPED ME

AS - SHE - CALLED - THE - PHONE - BOOTH

AT - LIBRARY - THAT - COMPLETE - THE

AUTHENTICATION - THAT - I’M - NOT A ROBOT

CARD - GOING - THERE - WAY - LATER - REAL

LATER - SO - HAVING - THAT - TRANSFERRED

2 - THE - UPS - STORE

BRICKELL

$138.03 - PLUS - $50

STATE - ID - PLUS - VOTER’s - INFO - CARD

DONE - USPS - CHANGE - OF - ADDRESS FORM

2 - TRANSFER - MY - US MAIL - SIMPLE - & FREE

INSTEAD - OF - $311.19 - AS - 33% - OF - MY - SSI

PLUS - ELECTRICITY - STATE - PRISON - IS FREE

ELECTRICITY - BETTER - FOOD - AND - STEAK

SO - GIVE - MY - APARTMENT - 2 - SOMEONE

ELSE - MY - PHILIPINE - ADOPTED - MOM - LIKE

ME - ALSO - SAID - I’M - TIRED - ALWAYS - SLEEPS

ALWAYS - SLEEPING - SHE - DIED - NEXT MONTH

HEART - STOPPED - LESS - THAN - 3 MIN - THEN

ALREADY - DEAD - DROPPED

I - FEEL - SAME - RIGHT - NOW - MAYBE - DEAD

NEXT - MONTH - I DON’T - FEEL - GREAT - ITS A

BETER - THING - THAT - I’M - NOT - LIVING THERE

OR - FOUND - DEAD - IN - 2ND FLOOR BEDROOM

SO - THE - WAITING - LIST - AS - NEXT

SEPTEMBER - PAID - ALREADY - DONE

LEAVING - SOON - LIBRARY

THEY - HAVE - ORIGINALS - BUT - THEY - SAID

CRICKET - DID - THOSE - PAPERS - LOGIN.GOV

NEADED - BACK UP - CODE - NUMBERS - GAVE

ME - AWHILE - AGO - BUT - IN - NOTEBOOK BUT

STOLEN - IN - HP LAPTOP - WAS - STOLEN TOO

SO - NOW - READY - 4 - ARREST

BUT - NOT - AS - TIRED - ANYMORE

SHE - GOES - BACK - AND - FORTH - IF - NEED B

NOW - NO - LONGER - MY - CONCERN

JESUS - IS - LORD

FEELING - BETTER

LOW - INCOME - APARTMENT - BUILDINGS

BLACKS - ESPECIALLY - THEY CAN - HAVE

THEM - JOANA - CAN KEEP - MY - BEEF

RAMEN - NOODLES - THEY - DON’T YES

KNOW - HOW - TO - DEAL WITH DISABLED

I’M - EXHAUSTED - BUT - FEEL - BETTER

NOW - WILL - JUST - THROW - ALL OF MY

CLOTHES - FR - STORAGE - UNIT

THERE’s - FEE - FOR - LEAVING - THE

CYLINDER - LOCK - SAID - ITS YOURS

PLEASE - BRING - WITH - YOU

GONE - FR - MY LIFE - THEM 2

JESUS - IS - LORD

#youtube

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michaelartappreciation · 9 days

Text

Virtual Sketchbook 2

Journaling -

Unity and Variety - Unity refers to how blended together the elements of an artwork looks looks. Variety refers to how much the different elements of an artwork contrast. These two principles of design are opposites both referring to how much or how little the elements of a piece of art work together.

Example:

Balance - Balance refers to the state in which the elements of an artwork have reached a visual equilibrium. An artwork may gain balance through either symmetry or a lack thereof.

Example:

Emphasis and Subordination - Emphasis refers to the method by which an artist draws attention to an aspect of their work. Subordination refers to the method by which an artist draws attention away from an aspect of their work. Both principles are about drawing a viewer's attention. This is done by the usage of size, color, or contrast.

Example:

Directional Forces - Directional forces refers to direction to which an artist draws your eyes. This principle is used to draw the viewer's eyes to a focal point of the art piece.

Example:

Repetition and Rhythm - Repetition refers to the many usages of a visual element, which can create unity. Rhythm refers to the usage of a sequence of elements with differences.

Example:

Scale and Proportion - Scale refers to the comparison of the size of one aspect of an artwork to another. Proportion refers to the relationship between the different sized aspects of one whole piece.

Example:

2. Writing and Looking -

Figure 3.9a, Tobit Burying the Dead, by Andrea di Lione contains linear perspective, implied lines, focal points through high contrast colors, implied light, and implied mass.

3. Connecting Art To Your World -

I am someone who puts effort into what I wear when I go outside. Color always affects me in the process I go through when choosing an outfit. Whenever I want to wear one piece of clothing, I must find another piece that looks good with the first one. Influenced by TikTok, something I have recently gotten into doing when choosing an outfit is using the color wheel. I first choose the hue, the base of the color, I wish to wear. I then look for whatever color is directly across it, these two colors are complementary. I am able to choose a piece of clothing that is higher or lower in value to that complementary color. If I had to pick a color scheme for my life, it would be the near neutral color scheme consisting of beige, tan, brown, and other colors because outfits consisting of one of these colors are the ones I love to wear the most.

4. Art Project -

This comic tells the story of how whenever I am feeling down, it always makes me feel better to buy a Lego set and put it together.

5. Photo/Design: Logos -

Group 1. Layout

The logos in my everyday surroundings include on my clothes, my shoes, the cars on the road, the stores I pass by, my devices, the food I buy, and the items I carry. The logos and brand names I see around me in my life include GAP, H&M, Levi's, Nike and the Nike swoosh, the NB of New Balance, Adidas, Converse, Crocs, Toyota, Honda, Hyundai, Ford, Jansport, Swiss Gear, HP, Dell, Apple, Lego, Extra, Walmart, Publix, Dunkin, Coca Cola, Pocky, Lays, Doritos and Marvel.

I know about these logos and brand names because they are on the clothes and shoes I wear, the stores I pass by, the online media I consume, the food I buy, and on the cars I see on the road.. A logo or brand name such as those listed above can be found quite literally anywhere in everybody's lives and on anything they interact with. Logos help to distinguish the item that you see or interact with, and it lets the company that made it tell you, "I made this, and this is my brand, so you should buy all the other things I made". That logo was put together by a group of people who set out to highlight their brand as being one of a kind, building off of pre-existing typefaces to make something of their own.

0 notes

kkrcomputer · 23 days

Text

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FAQs:-

Q. Can I rent a laptop or computer for a short period, like a day or a week?

Ans. Yes, we provide flexible rental options ranging from daily to weekly and monthly plans. Whether you need equipment for a day, a week, or longer, we have a rental plan to fit your needs.

Q. What is included with the laptop rental service?

Ans. Our laptop rental service includes the laptop, a charger, and necessary software installations. We also offer accessories like laptop bags, mouse, and adapters upon request. Additionally, our service includes technical support and maintenance for the rental period.

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