#just imagine harry having to introduce himself
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trippingontheescalator · 1 year ago
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So, I've seen a few Severitus fics where Harry is given the new name of Hadrian for whatever reason (hiding his identity, he's going to be Lord Potter and Hadrian sounds more pureblood-y, whatever) and just nicknamed Harry. And I kind of want to write my own version of this, but instead of having Severus give Harry a formal name like Hadrian he chooses
Hartholomew.
Just to be dick about it.
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my-castles-crumbling · 20 days ago
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golden - January 16 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 323
It took all of Regulus’s self-control to keep his voice down as he quietly stormed from the bedroom on the end of the hallway to the sitting room, where his husband sat waiting for him. “James Potter, you swore you would stay neutral!” he hissed, crossing his arms and frowning.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” James replied innocently, but the pink forming on his cheeks gave him away. 
“Oh? Harry just happened to find your old practice Quaffle in the attic?” Regulus asked, tapping his foot. 
“Yes,” James nodded, causing Regulus to snort. “Oi, it’s not my fault he liked it so much!”
“Yes, but it’s your fault you gave it to him! You’re the one who threw a fit when I wanted to give him that stuffed Golden Snitch last year! You said we had to let him choose on his own!” he reminded him, finally sitting, but making sure he was as far away from James as possible, just to make a point.
James took a look at the way Regulus sat, curled up on the opposite end of the couch, and sighed. “Fine. You’re right. I just…he’d make such a good Chaser, you know? Can you imagine?” he changed his voice to a deeper tone, holding his hand to his mouth like a microphone. “Aaaaand introducing the newest chaser for Gryffindor: Harry Potter!”
Regulus sighed, rolling his eyes affectionately at how enthusiastic his husband was. He allowed himself to relax a bit, stretching his legs out so his cold toes poked James in the leg exactly like he hated. “I think you mean ‘the newest Seeker for Slytherin!’”
The older man chuckled, grabbing Regulus’s feet and bringing them properly on his lap. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we, love?”
But, seven years later when they stood in the stands, cheering for Harry Potter, the newest Seeker for Gryffindor, they both cried tears of joy and pride.
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lisbeth-kk · 1 month ago
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Sherlock fandom. TW: suicide thoughts.
John’s War
When it begins, it’s subtle. A flutter in his stomach, which later turns into an ache in his heart. He knows it’s wrong, and he desperately tries to fight it. It’s like a war, and he is the only participant. 
John’s been in love many times. Audrey was the first, Bethany the last. And it’s been fine. Normal. Girls seem to like him. He’s got quite the reputation by the time he’s reached sixteen.
***
It all started to crumble when his sister, Harry, came out as a lesbian at fourteen. Their parents had been livid, but Harry came prepared and was totally unfazed. She’d even arranged to stay at her girlfriend’s family, fully aware that her own mum and dad would kick her out if she didn’t retract and started to act normal.
***
Lance was half American, half British. He and his mother had recently moved back to London after almost twenty years in America. The moment John laid his eyes on Lance, the fluttering began. Lance looked like a film star. Golden, curly hair, green eyes, androgyne features, a slender body, strong hands, long fingers. He was everything John wasn’t. Gay, for starters. And he wanted John of all people.
Words John’s father used on such people, played on repeat in his mind:
Faggot. Queer. Degenerate.
John tried to tell Lance, he was straight, but there was no denying how much John wanted Lance to kiss and touch him. His penis reminded him repeatedly and inconveniently every so often of that particular fact.
“John. Stop this. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Lance whispered softly and kissed John’s neck. “Haven’t you heard of bisexuality?”
***
Running away to Afghanistan was the only way forward for John when he couldn’t rescue Lance after his overdose. He felt the need to atone for his lack of observation. 
How had he not seen the self-destructing path Lance was heading down? He was a bloody doctor, for Christ’s sake! Had he been in denial about that too? Didn’t he want to believe that such a talented man Lance turned out to be, could choose to destroy himself just because he failed the interview for the main role in a West End play?
“I’m sorry, darling, but there’ll be other roles. New chances. No one gets them on the first try, surely,” John had tried to reassure his lover, but to no avail.
So, there he was. In Afghanistan where danger lurked around every corner. John was quite startled that he enjoyed the danger so much. He felt alive, thrilled, his broken heart notwithstanding. 
And then, another man invaded his thoughts, and eventually his bed. Major James Sholto.
***
Mike Stamford had never seen a more broken man in his life than John Watson, as he limped past the bench, where he was sitting thinking about Sherlock's words from earlier: 
“Who would want me for a flatmate? I’m a difficult man at best. People hate being around me. Can you imagine someone actually living with me? Who is alive themselves. No, Mike. There exists no such human, I assure you.”
“John! John Watson!” he called out. 
When John just gave him a blank stare, Mike sighed and introduced himself. The response was insulting to say the least. No “oh, nice to see you again, mate,” or “what have you been up to?” There was…nothing.
“Who has left you heartbroken, John?” Mike didn’t say and let John walk away without having said a word.
***
After his meeting with Mike, John finds himself outside Barts hospital. He’s got fond memories from his practise here. With Mike. He winces when he reminisces how rude he was to the jovial man. But it couldn’t be helped. John’s a broken man in so many ways, and he just wants to be left alone. He looks up. Wonders how it would feel to stand on the edge of that roof. Would he dare to jump off it if the opportunity arose? He’s never been afraid of heights. And he longs for the pain to subside. The emotional pain. The pain that scars his heart.
Time eludes him. Why are his knees hurting? He opens his eyes. Is he kneeling on the pavement? Apparently. When did that happen? How long? His thoughts stop abruptly when a warm hand is placed on his good shoulder.
“Are you alright?”
A deep baritone. John perceives a posh accent. The warmth from the man’s hand travel down his spine like lava. 
Radiant. Alluring. Dangerous. 
He lifts his head. At first glance, the man could be Lance’s twin. But then, John realises that it’s only the curly hair and height they have in common. This man’s hair is almost black with tinges of auburn. His eyes are blue, but also green and blue green. The colours are constantly shifting. They’re mesmerising. John wants to drown himself in them.
John stands. He still hasn’t said a word. The man hands him his cane and speaks again.
“Afghanistan or Iraq?”
For the first time in years John’s first response isn’t to flee. Instead, he straightens his back, lifts his chin and asks:
“How? Tell me.”
The flicker of surprise, quickly followed by insecurity on the man’s face, makes John realise that this can be, if he lets it, a new beginning.
“Go on,” John prompts.
When the man speaks again, John is lost. An ease sets within him, and his heart stops cracking.
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anxiousnerdwritings · 8 months ago
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For the love of Merlin please give me Percy Wesley x older!Potter!sister — the ultimate yandere
Percy who is determined and headstrong stepping onto the Hogwarts Express for the very first time and taking one look at the pretty girl with dark hair and green eyes and a scar on her face that she’s baring proudly, just as he’s baring his second hand robes proudly, and deciding that that’s the one he wants before even getting her name
Introducing himself with confidence and is pleased to be met with a beaming smile, no judgement present
Molly would be horrified hearing Percy is in Slytherin
Her most rule following, intelligent and sophisticated son a snake??? Not understanding why until Charlie breaks out into a fit of laughter and sputters something about Percy following a pretty girl into the house and Molly whips around looking like she wants to smack sense into him because he’s obviously lost his mind and he just raises his brows and is like “yes but it’s Potter!Reader soooooo” and she has to compose herself
He’s determine to become everything his family isn’t, everything his father isn’t, making a silent promise to be better and to take care of their family that way Arthur Weasley just couldn’t
It’s funny though cause she’s already rich. Having money isn’t a driving factor for a relationship, she just wants to be seen and loved.
Yesssss, I love it!!!! But hear me out though; Yan!poly Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood with Older!sibling!Potter!Reader👀🤗. Thoughts??
Percy would totally have a much darker streak, mainly cause his darling is always ending up it shitty situations or having to deal with shitty people so he’s gotta compensate somehow to be able to help/protect her. Not to mention he’s gotta be slick to move his way up in life to be at the point he feels he can thoroughly provide for his darling and their future family.
Also, I totally see him being an absolute fucking simp for Potter!Reader, you can’t tell me otherwise. And he takes such pride in it too. Boy loves his darling so much and so early on that he is utterly willing to do absolutely whatever for them at any given second, whether she asks him to or not. After older!sister!Potter!Reader comes into Percy’s life, his whole world revolves around her and only her. She and their future together is his top priority and it makes him only strive all the harder in his education and later in his career. Everything he does and will do is for the two of them, no one else.
I just can’t help but to imagine how totally stressed out Percy is during the whole Prisoner of Azkaban plot. Like, mans is out on the hunt for Sirius Black himself to ensure his darling stays safe and sound. He would completely forbid Potter!Reader from leaving their dorm whatsoever, especially without him. His head would be on a swivel with how much he’s looking over both his and his darling’s shoulders. Not to mention also needing to keep an eye out on Harry too cause Merlin forbid anything happens to him.
Not to mention, Percy would always come in clutch for his darling when it came to them getting into trouble. He’ll cover for them as much as he possibly can too. Doing the same for Harry too, albeit a bit more reluctantly.
I love the idea of Percy and Potter!Reader moving in together after they graduate, like right after. Percy has been waiting for this moment for so long, just him and his darling and no more being at the Burrow. I could see him moving into Grimmauld Place with the Reader, Harry and Sirius, cause you know Sirius wasn’t gonna part so easily with the Reader let alone let the two move in together right away. Besides, Percy probably may as well have already moved in with how much he was over there. Or I could see Petunia giving the house on Spinner’s End to the Reader as a graduation gift/cause it belongs to her now (or the Reader just fucking breaks into it and moves in herself cause it is hers and Harry’s after all) and the Reader of course takes Harry with her to live there, cause you know damn well older!sister!Potter!Reader promised him when she first started attending Hogwarts that the second she graduated they would never have to go home to the Dursley’s ever again. Percy ends up moving in shortly after, or he’s already been moved in having taken to setting everything up while his darling got Harry and whatever things they needed.
I also could see Percy visiting the Dursley home a lot. Vernon and Petunia actually quite enjoy him and his company, he’s prim and proper, but most importantly he doesn’t come off as being anything remotely ‘unordinary’. Meanwhile, you know damn well he spent countless sleepless nights memorizing muggle related things to come off as ‘normal’ as possible to his darling’s aunt and uncle. Vernon especially takes to Percy given their bonding over talks about career plans. Percy particularly earns Vernon’s good graces when he mentions his want for an ‘office job’ and moving his way up the workplace latter when he eventually does get said job.
But let’s be honest, Percy is only trying to make nice with his darling’s family, he absolutely detests them and wishes nothing but hardship for the people who have made his darling and her brother’s lives hell. The look of utter horror and disdain when Percy sees the way the Reader and Harry live, he vows in that moment that he will do everything in his power to take his darling away from the abusive and neglectful situation they’ve been forced to endure and to give them everything they deserve and more. After that, I think Percy’s respect for/trust in Dumbledore would be nonexistent. Like, how fucking dare you to know about the situation my darling and her brother have grown up in and continue to let it take place. The situation you willingly handed them into. Percy would totally have mad beef with Albus, to the point where he just flat out calls and refers to Dumbledore as Albus, saying it with nothing but seething disgust. No more Sir, Professor or Headmaster. I think it would be Percy’s first true heel turn from being the respectful, rule abiding boy he was.
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harrywavycurly · 8 months ago
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Southern Comfort Part 4: Fiddlesticks
Masterlist: Here
CW: None
A/N: Harry might’ve just fallen in love but who knows? I hope y’all enjoy and this is mainly just giving his side of the phone call✨
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Harry rubs at the back of his neck as he looks at the clock in his kitchen as it changes to eight fifty nine, now all he has to do is wait arguably the longest minute of his life before he can hit the call button on your contact page he has ready to go on the screen of his phone. He can’t remember the last time he felt this nervous for a phone call that wasn’t related to his career. He can’t exactly explain why he finds himself wanting to talk to you ever since he wound up with your number three nights ago but he knows it has something to do with the fact he can be himself with you since you don’t know exactly who he is minus the few details he’s given. You accept him and all his little quirks because as he’s learned over the last day or so, you have a few of your own as well. While he wants to try to learn everything there is to know about you he knows it’s not exactly fair since he can’t share everything about himself with you, or at least not yet. He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts swirling around in it as he looks at the clock.
Harry reaches for his phone the moment he sees the numbers change to show that it’s finally nine. He puts his thumb over your contact ready to hit the call button when he feels his heartbeat quicken as he sees the words My Texas Tornado flash across his phone screen causing his eyes to go wide as he realizes that you’re the one calling him. He almost drops his phone trying to hit answer while bringing it up to his ear, he gathers himself a bit before he tries to quietly clears his throat.
“Hello-” before Harry can finish his greeting your voice is coming through his phone introducing yourself to him, finally giving him your actual name and he swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound and it takes him off guard making him have to grip the edge of his countertop for support. “It’s lovely to finally uhm meet you but you do know I was set to call you right? You didn’t have to-”
“It’s nice to meet you too sugar plum.” Harry smiles at how thick your accent is, almost like he can picture each word practically rolling off your tongue. “But I did wait five minutes for you to call and then decided I should take things into my own hands.” He looks at his clock and feels his brows furrow when he sees it still says nine in the morning, he looks down at his watch to check if it says the same thing and it does.
“Five minutes? Love it’s just now a minute past nine.” He explains as he runs a hand through his hair and that’s when he hears it for the first time, your laugh. It’s loud but also soft as it hits his ears and swiftly moves to the top of the list of one of his favorite sounds. He feels himself grin as he tries to picture what you look like when you laugh because if the sound is anything to go off of he just knows you look absolutely beautiful when you laugh.
“Oh fiddlesticks I forgot I set my clock five minutes fast so I’m never late to anything.” Harry can’t help but chuckle as you explain yourself. “Don’t you laugh at me Harry that’s not polite and you’re a gentleman remember?” He feels his cheeks get hot when you say his name and he’s very thankful in this moment that he lives alone because he can’t imagine how silly he looks all flush faced and giggly while just standing in his kitchen with his phone up to his ear.
“My apologies love but you just said fiddlesticks how was I supposed to hear that and not laugh?” He asks as he quickly pulls the phone away from his ear so he can put you on speaker before placing it on the counter next to his electric kettle. He hears you let out a huff and then some shuffling and what he can only assume is the sound of a door closing making him raise an eyebrow at his phone.
“Why don’t they make mugs easier to hold while also talking on the phone and trying to lock your front door?” He doesn’t know if you’re actually asking him or not but he likes the way your voice sounds when you’re flustered. “Like I have a purse and all that but you can’t go putting a coffee mug in your purse or that’ll get really messy really quickly.” He hears the sound of your keys jiggling as you place them back into your purse.
“Well they do have those things called handles that are supposed to be good for that sort of thing.” He can practically hear you rolling your eyes and that makes him fight the urge to laugh. “Off to the store?” He asks as he grabs his phone and heads for his living room.
“You have a good memory honeybuns.” Harry smiles and shakes his head at the petname having difficulty picking which one he likes the best now that he’s heard them all in your sweet thick southern accent that he has decided reminds him oddly enough of honey.
“I want to say thank you but in all honesty you did just tell me these plans yesterday.” He admits as he places the phone on his coffee table before sitting on the couch and leaning forward so his elbows are resting on his knees and his hands are clasped together so he can rest his chin on them.
“What time is your meeting?” Harry hears a faint sound of a bell that lets him know you’ve entered a shop of some sort. “Hold on for a moment sugar.” Before he can say anything in response he hears some shuffling and then the sound of someone’s voice saying your name. “Hey Kathy! I’m just seeing how Teddy’s feeling?” Harry leans back so he can get comfortable on the couch as he listens to you talk to Kathy. “Oh bless his little heart.” He feels his face drop at the slight sadness in your voice. “Well let me know if y’all need anything okay? And tell him we miss him in class and can’t wait for him to be back whenever he gets to feeling better.” Harry can just tell by the tone of your voice that you’re being sincere.
“Is Teddy feeling poorly?” He asks once there’s a few moments of silence letting him know your conversation with Kathy was over.
“Is that how you say he’s sick? If so then yes poor Teddy has the flu and just can’t seem to shake it so I’m gonna make him some of my chicken soup and his mom Kathy some banana bread.” Your answer makes Harry wonder if this is something you do all the time, make soup for the sick kids in your class and banana bread for people you know. “You think everyone likes chocolate chips in their banana bread?” Harry chuckles as he hears you let out a huff and the sound of a pen clicks in the background.
“I’d say maybe do half with and half without just to be safe?” He suggests as he looks down at his watch and sees it’s now half past nine. “Have you even made it to the store yet love?” He hears you take a sip of your coffee and he can just imagine you standing in the middle of a grocery aisle with your list and coffee mug in one hand and your phone in the other while contemplating if you should add chocolate chips to the whole pan of banana bread or not.
“I happen to live down the street from my favorite grocery store so don’t worry honey I’ve been here a good ten minutes already.” Harry smiles as he hears you take another sip of your coffee. “What time is your meeting sugar? Are you ready for it? I don’t want you getting your ass kicked and name taken again.” Harry’s head leans back as he laughs causing his hand to fall to his stomach, he can tell by the way your voice has a tinge of worry to it you’re being serious and that’s what makes him laugh even harder because the words you just said don’t match the sincerity of your voice. “If you don’t stop laughing at me I’ll make you add ten dollars to the douche bag jar Harry.” That’s what does it, Harry full on starts cackling as he slaps his hand on his leg and he feels the wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes as he squeezes them closed.
“I’m sorry love.” He tries to sound genuine but he knows it’s no use because he’s still half laughing as he speaks. “You sound so worried but you’re also saying things like kick ass and take names so it’s just a little jarring.” He explains as he hears you drop something into a cart as he tries to get himself together on the couch.
“I just don’t want you to get beat up that’s all.” Harry nods as he wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths finally feeling his laughing fit coming to an end.
“My meeting is at ten thirty and I’m prepared for it don’t worry it’s just a check up to make sure we are on track with things timing wise and I know that we are because oddly enough I’m ahead of schedule with a few things.” He tries to pick his words carefully as he hears you drop a few more things into your cart.
“Oh see now that’s how you flirt with someone sugar plum.” Harry feels his hands get sweaty at your words.
“Saying I’m ahead of schedule does it for you huh?” He hears you make a fake soft whispering moaning type noise and he feels his mouth drop open.
“Oh yeah that’s exactly what does it for me.” Everything in Harry’s mind knows you’re messing with him but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like the wind just got knocked out of him as you tease him causing your accent to sound even thicker as your voice goes lower. “What things are you checking up on in this meeting?” He appreciates you quickly moving the conversation along because he honestly wasn’t sure he was going to be able to do it himself.
“Uh well I’m not-”
“I get it sugar plum you don’t have to tell me.”Harry smiles at how understanding you are as he fumbles over his words. He briefly looks down at his watch and feels his smile instantly drops.
“I’m sorry to have to leave you in the middle of your grocery shop but I’m afraid I have to head off in a minute.” He hears you let out a fake huff of annoyance that makes him chuckle as he stands up and grabs his phone off the coffee table so he can head for his front door where he keeps his car keys and wallet.
“I truly don’t know how I’ll manage the rest of my day without you laughing in my ear but I’ll do my best to get by.” Harry rolls his eyes at your teasing words as he grabs his wallet. “Have a good meeting honeybuns.”
“Thanks love you enjoy the rest of your shopping trip and let me know how your banana bread comes out.” He can practically hear you smile as he speaks while he slips his wallet into his back pocket.
“I will sugar don’t worry.” He hears you drop another item into your cart. “Well go on and say bye and hang up or you’ll never get off the phone.” Harry chuckles at how blunt you are with your honesty because it’s true, if he doesn’t hang up now he’d happily spend the rest of the day on the phone with you.
“Bye love.” With that he hangs up the phone and smiles when he sees your name on his screen before he slides it into his pocket. “I’m so fucked.” He mumbles to himself with a smile as he grabs his keys and heads out the front door.
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midnightstargazer · 10 months ago
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In OotP, when Regulus is first mentioned, this is how he's introduced:
"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."
The juxtaposition of those two things - younger and a better son - stands out because the Blacks are such an old-fashioned family. Sirius and Regulus seem like a typical "heir and a spare" situation, so for the spare to be a "better son" than the heir is a big deal.
In DH, when Harry visits the top floor of Grimmauld Place, one thing he notices is that Sirius had the larger bedroom. To me, this suggests that, at least when they were young children, their parents showed more favoritism to Sirius. He was, after all, the oldest and the heir. Given that Bellatrix and Walburga didn't have quiet, passive temperaments either, I doubt his personality would be seen as a problem until he ended up in Gryffindor, befriending the wrong people and rejecting everything the family stood for.
Regulus's more dutiful and obedient attitude was no doubt something they appreciated once Sirius really started rebelling, and it's easy to imagine them pitting their sons against each other: look at your brother, he's in the right house, he's rarely ever in detention, he's got friends we approve of - why can't you be like him? But still, they didn't disown Sirius until he ran away at sixteen. This suggests to me that any favoritism towards Regulus was, at least at first, an attempt to bring Sirius back into line and get him to behave the way they expected.
Even after Sirius ran away, they kept his room exactly as it was. Even if everything on the walls was attached with a permanent sticking charm, it shouldn't have been too difficult to cover it up. Furniture and personal items could certainly be gotten rid of. The fact that the room was still pretty much untouched tells me they kept holding out hope he might come back.
However, I do think that things would have changed for Regulus after Sirius was Sorted into Gryffindor and after he ran away. In both cases, there would have been more pressure on him to live up to the family's expectations. The impression we're given of Regulus in the books is of someone who didn't really think for himself and was very proud of his conformity. It seems reasonable to me that that would have come from growing up with an older brother who constantly defied their parents and, as a result, had lost their favoritism. And knowing, of course, that their love for him was just as conditional.
(That's not me saying he was forced into anything. I actually don't think Orion and Walburga would have forced either of their sons to join the Death Eaters. But I do think Regulus felt he had something to prove, was taught basically the same ideology at home, and was therefore easier to radicalize. And I think that feeling of having something to prove probably came, at least in part, from watching Sirius go from favorite son and heir to scapegoat to disowned.)
Both brothers, I think, ended up living very different lives than their family would've chosen for them. They would've been expected to marry pure-blood women and have kids, to support the blood purist ideology but not actually risk their lives for it, and either to live off their inherited wealth or to work in relatively safe, prestigious careers. So, in different ways, they both fell short.
I do think there was definitely a scapegoat and golden child dynamic, but I think it's a bit more complicated than that: changing favoritism through the years as it became more and more obvious that Sirius wouldn't fall into line with the family expectations, first to pit them against each other and then to cut Sirius off and replace him with Regulus.
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iamnmbr3 · 11 months ago
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early days pre drarry where now that they're getting closer draco takes harry to meet his muggle friends. draco spent time in the muggle world during his probation and he still finds it easier to be around muggles in some ways because they don't know anything about his past and don't have any preconceptions; to them his dark mark is just a weird tattoo.
harry's interested to meet draco's friends. especially muggle ones because that's certainly new. he can't imagine the old draco he knew willingly having anything to do with the muggle world. plus he figures it'll be nice to be seen as normal and not gawked at as the savior of the wizarding world.
except as soon as he introduces himself they're all 'omg. YOU'RE Harry Potter?!!!!' and harry's so confused because they can't possibly have heard of him. and then it turns out they don't know anything about the boy who lived twice stuff. it's just that draco talks about him a lot.
draco's visibly dying and just kinda mumbles 'i might have mentioned you once or twice.'
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randomcreator-09 · 4 months ago
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The Mahoutokoro DADA Professor (Part One)
(Severus Snape x Reader)
>>>MASTERLIST<<<
Part one, Part Two
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(gif ain't mine > idk I saw it one day and saved it then forgot... But it's not mine :"3)
✨Pure fluff, maybe a lil angst heh dunno XD and a tad full of sarcasm✨
🐧AH! Suddenly had an idea to write a character where she's from an asian country and Snape is just so intrigued and annoyed by her XD. Enjoy my imaginations (didn't use grammarly on this one so it might have some grammar errors pls be kind :"3)
OH also I was inspired to write this with that one shot I dont remembor :"3 please dm me if you whoever wrote this somewhat the same trope sees or reads this, so I can tag you or maybe remove it if you request so🐧
Now enjoy ^^
Part one, Part Two
-----
As Hogwarts came to another start, Severus Snape found himself sitted once again in the great hall with the insufferable children in front of him.
The war has ended, and two years have passed since his close call with death. He wished it had ended that way, though; he really has no clue what faith has put in on him again.
Nothing out of the ordinary has changed in two years, except well the dark lord being defeated and him being awarded the Merlins honor for his sacrifices, along with the Pince riches and manor named after him. He scowled at that house, and he couldn't fathom the idea of living in it, so he stayed in his humble home at the end of Spinners End.
There was a new addition to the staff, though. Professor Y/N/L, you teach the subject he has been eyeing for quite some time now, DADA.
McGonagall hired you last year, with recommendations from Hermoine of course. She has placed good words for you, complimenting how you had helped her with advocating elf rights and how you have helped Harry in defeating scoundrels of the wizarding world as an auror.
There was something unique about you, too. You didn't graduate from Hogwarts like Hermoine or Harry; you graduated from the far east. To be exact you graduated with golden robes from Mahoutokoro Wizarding School Japan.
Everyone was giddy when McGonagall introduced you in the great hall. You were wearing your golden robes, depicting your Mahoutokoro origin. You probably were the same age as Severus (having graduated from Mahoutokoro in 1971, a year early due to your exceptional skills). Severus was the least giddy, though; he despised the fact you took the spot to his dream position.
He took your presence as a challenge, and he cannot wait to embarrass you in front of the students if you ever asked for a sample duel.
And that day did came.
On October 2, 2000, you knocked on his classroom door in the middle of his potions class. You slowly peeked your head at his dungeon door and smiled at him.
Oh, how he despised your bright smile.
"Hello, Professor Snape, " you greeted as you kept your body behind the door.
Severus raised a brow and enveloped himself with his black robe. "Professor Y/L, what a pleasure to have your presence," his voice like a hoarse rumble of thunder. Nagini's bite wasn't too kind to him after the years. It pains him to speak, but he has gotten used to it now.
"Well..." you muttered under your breath as you entered his classroom. The eyes of his students are on you but are back on their cauldrons as soon as Severus slams a notebook to one table.
"Is it alright to ask you to come with me for a sample duel?" the words rolled out your mouth, startled by the sudden burst of noise that echoed throughout room.
Severus smirked slightly. 'It was his time to shine,' he thought as he pulled his sleeves up and crossed his arms. "I suppose after class?"
You nodded with a smile and gave him the details of what time the duel would be held before thanking him as you left.
Severus curtly nods at you, a welcome, I suppose, or more of a thank you. As soon as you left, he swiftly turned around and walked straight to his desk. Severus had a genuine smile plastered on his face, his thoughts running wild on how he could embarrass you infront of your students. He felt victorious even with his thoughts.
Some of his students saw this smile and were terrified by it. He's gone mad.
------ (Duel ends)
Severus was in disbelief. Shocked, totaled, bamboozled, whatever it is you name that depicts a man who just lost his wits AND WAND!
He stood there dumbfounded as you gripped his wand with your hand.
You hit him with a successful expelliarmus at what felt like 2 minutes of exchanging spells!
"Now, children, expelliarmus is a spell you do to take an opponent's wand. Using it wisely, along with other spells exchanged by me and Professor Snape, is one way to win a duel or to pass your OWLS and NEWTS," you exclaimed, walking towards Severus and handing him his wand.
You called out names of students to watch them duel. Severus walked down the duel table, his demeanor unchanged and cold, but his insides were in turmoil. He had just been defeated, infront of her and her students.
You patted his back, which made him even tad furious at how he just lost that duel. How good were you to be able to defeat him? Has he lost his talent in duelling? Is he perhaps aging too fast?
"You did well, professor. Don't be too harsh on yourself, " you said as you watched your students duel.
He glared down at you, only his eyes moving as he scoffed. 'unbelievable,' he thought. He lost to a little midget like you.
He had to do something about this humiliation. With that, he scurried away from you and into the dungeons, preparing himself from the daily torment of the memory of losing from you.
-----(Your POV before he left)
Severus stood beside you as you two stepped down the duel table.
You had caught him at his most unexpected moment and effortlessly defeated him in the duel. You were a gifted dueller, after all.
As you watched your students duel, you looked up to see Severus with his usual cold demeanor. However, as you looked down at his hands, you could see how he gripped his hands. You smiled warmly at the thought of him even thinking about this moment more than once in the future.
"You did well, professor. Don't be too harsh on yourself," you said as you watched your students duel. You hear him scoff at you before twirling dramatically around and leaving.
You smile at that, and as you hear the door close shut, you stop your student's duel and end the class for the day.
A few days have passed since your duel with Severus, and he has been avoiding you since then. You felt it since he was always following you around before, and it's not that you don't like it. You actually do.
You've liked him since the day you arrived; you've always had a thing for dark, dramatic, gothic men, and he was the spite image of that.
You've always tried to start a conversation with him, to which he either scoffs or replies a bit dryly. You don't blame him, that scar in his neck must've hurt.
As you walk the open hallways of Hogwarts, passing by and greeting students, you see his familiar silhouette. He was walking away from you a bit too fast for his normal phase. You smile at this and tried following him to where he was going.
-----(Back to Severus POV)
Severus has been dreaming about you. Silly encantation, you must have placed some sort of spell on him while in duel, he concluded to himself.
His dreams started with you kissing him on his lips at first to you straddling his lap. He'd wake up with beads of sweat all over his body despite the cold temperatures of the dungeons where his chamber was. There was a constant tent on his blanket too! He despised you even more when you've become an apparent dream of his.
It has been almost two months now since the duel. Severus has been avoiding you since, embarrassed from the duel and ashamed of the silly dreams he's been having. He can't believe he's been dreaming of you, LIKE THAT TOO?!
December 15, 2000. He decided to walk Hogwart's open corridors to get some breather. He had to do something with you, scold you for coming to his mind, his dreams, his nightmares, his... His everything.
He shook his head, no way. NO WAY he has feelings for you. NO WAY.
As he turned the corner and walked even faster, he sees you being greeted by students. His body tensing up, as he quickly eyes you head to toe.
It's been days since he last saw you, and you were as marvelous as you looked from the last. Your hair tied up in a messy bun, your golden robe over your dark blue wizard clothes beautifully insinuating your figure, and oh... Your smile. He hated that bright smile, but he blushed every time you gave him that smile.
He quickly turned around and swiftly walked away from you. Walked? He RAN.
He never felt like this, not even with Lily. He felt like a schoolgirl running away from the sight of their crush. Jeez, he really needed to man up sometimes.
"Professor Snape!" he heard you exclaim. He paused in his tracks. Shit.
He turns around to see you walking towards him, with that darn smile again.
"Professor," he mutters, trying to compose himself. Hopefully his not showing much emotions or blushing. His cheeks felt hot though, darn it.
"Would you like to go to Yule Ball with me?" you asked sweetly.
Severus was frozen. He never thought he'd ever be asked to go to Yule Ball. Not even as a professor.
He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "And why would I say yes to that?" his voice sultry and rough.
You smiled again, he's going to have a heart attack anytime soon, he could feel it.
"Well... You could always say no. I wouldn't mind asking Professor Fin-"
"Nonsense, you can never dance with such a tiny man. It'd be best if you dance with me, by practicality ofcourse" he grunts in a way that flowed out of his mouth.
You laughed, which made Severus's heart do cartwheels.
"That's settled then." as you turn around and leave.
Severus was yet again left in shock. Did he just agree to dance with you at the Yule Ball?
He slammed his palm to his forehead. Now he is just being your lap dog. He has no choice now but to actually dance with you.
The woman who defeated him in duel. The woman who took his spot in DADA. The woman from the east who Severus never met before. The woman... He currently has feelings for.
He smiles. Atleast he knows now why faith has kept him alive.
-----
Next>> Part 2 is released!!!! ^^
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chloe-skywalker · 2 years ago
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Visitors - Viktor Krum
Viktor x Fem!reader Diggory
Cedric x sister reader
Warnings: none
Word count: 1,385
Summary: Viktor and Y/n meet only to meet again not long after. And her brother and friends approve.
Authors Note: My first Viktor Krum imagine
Masterlist
Harry Potter Masterlist
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Y/n had to admit being at the Quidditch World Cup was pretty cool. Especially since she got to go with her brother, father, and friends. It was also nice that she had seemed to catch the eye of a certain star player.
Cedric nudged his little sister, teasing her. “I think someone like’s you.”
“Shut up.” Y/n nudged him back looking down shyly.
After the game, Y/n had gone to the little shop portion of tents surrounding the arena. As she was exiting the tents she ran into someone.
“Sorry.” Y/n apologized before looking up.
“No, no I’m sorry. It was my fault.” Low and behold the player who kept eyeing her during the game was who she ran into. And now he was helping her up. “I’m Viktor. Viktor Krum.” He introduced himself with a smile upon his lips. She was even prettier up close.
“Y/n. Y/n Diggory.” Y/n mirrored his smile but she did look down feeling embarrassed. She just literally ran into the Viktor Krum.
“Did you enjoy the game, Y/n?” Viktor asked still having not removed his hands from hers.
“Very much.” She nodded looking back up at him. It seemed he knew she felt a bit embarrassed but he didn’t want that to stop their conversation. “You were very good out there.”
Viktor got a slight blush on his cheeks. “You flatter me, Miss Diggory.”
Y/n shook her head with a smile. “Please just call me Y/n.”
The two suddenly heard cheers and rants coming from behind Viktor. As the two looked over they saw it was his team. They both let out laughs. “Looks like I must go.”
“Me too it seems.” Y/n said also glancing behind her to where her friends were calling her over and goofing off.
“Will I see you again?” Viktor asked before she could go. He didn’t want to leave her presence just yet.
Sadly she couldn’t give him a good answer to that. “I don’t know.”
Viktor nodded knowing that with school and things that liked to happen in the Wizarding world they couldn’t tell when they might see eachother again. But he knew how he felt. “I’d like to.”
Y/n sent him a smile. “Then hopefully we will. I’d like it as well.”
Viktor sent her a warm hopeful smile as he let go of her hand and headed back to where he should be with his team. Meanwhile, Cedric had walked over and stood beside his sister.
“Does someone like a certain quidditch player? Or does a certain quidditch player like you?” Cedric asked smiling but not in a teasing way. He would support his sister in her decisions, always.
Y/n smiled shyly biting her lip, blushing. “Maybe a bit of both.”
^     ^     ^
Being back at Hogwarts was fun and stressful. But apparently, this year was going to have guests. At least that’s what Dumbledore is saying currently.
“This year Hogwarts will be hosting the Tri-Wizard tournament. This also means we will be housing 2 other wizarding schools as well. Let’s give them a warm welcome.” Dumbledore said and once he finished the big doors opened and in came the Drumstrang academy.
It didn’t take long for Y/n and Hermione and the others to notice Viktor Krum as part of the school.
“Well, will you look at who that is?” Hermione smiled as Krum entered the great hall.Y/n had told her about their encounter at the Worldcup. “Cedric wasn’t the only one to notice the way Viktor was looking at you. Or you him.”
“Hermione” Y/n dragged out her friend's name but even she knew it was true. She and Viktor had caught eyes when he entered the great hall. Cedric had noticed to.
“Y/n you deserve to find love. If that happens to be with the great Viktor Krum then let it.” Hermione encouraged. She would love to see Y/n happy and in love, the girl deserved it.
“You're supporting this?” Y/n asked with raised brows in shock before sneaking a quick glance towards the Drumstrang boys.
“Absolutely.” Hermione nodded, smiling mischievously. “I also think Cedric is supporting it as well.”
“Yeah, isn’t that odd?” Ron asked with his mouth full of food.
“Yeah, shouldn’t he be all protective over you?” Harry also questioned. Cause wasn’t that normal for siblings?
“Oh, he will be if anything happens but he’s also very supportive.” Y/n explained smiling over at her brother as he sent her a wink. Then Y/n and Krum met eyes again and both couldn’t help but smile.
^     ^     ^
Y/n and Cedric were sitting by the black lake just spending some time together. Before Cedric nudged y/n and nodded behind them. “Will you look who’s coming over.”
“Bug off” Y/n nudged him back.
“Well, I need to go get ready for our first challenge.” Cedric stated getting up obviously leaving the two alone.
“Cedric.” Y/n grumbled as he started to walk off. Her brother trying to play matchmaker.
Cedric and Viktor exchanged glances as they passed eachother. Viktor smiled at the y/h/c-ed girl as he approached her. “Y/n.”
“Viktor” Y/n greeted back smiling as he sat down next to her, also facing the lake. “How are you enjoying Hogwarts?”
Viktor smiled back, always enjoying the Diggory girl's presence. He thought about it for a moment before answering. Which Y/n appreciated that he took the time to give her a real answer and not a short one. “It's different. I will say it’s nice that it brought us together.”
Y/n nodded in agreement smiling at the muscular boy. “It is a nice outcome.”
The two sat there for a long time talking and getting to know eachother. They did that till they had to leave for the first event of the tournament.
“Here to wish me luck?” Cedric smiled as Y/n entered the champion's tent.
“Of course brother.” she smiled and hugged him. She’d support him through this but it didn’t mean she wasn’t scared for him. He’s her brother and wizards die in this tournament.
“Maybe have to also with a certain Bulgarian luck?” he teased wiggling his eyebrows.
“You keep teasing me and he’ll be the only one I wish luck to again.” Y/n threatened playfully pointing at him and poking him in the chest.
“I wouldn’t mind.” Viktor smiled standing behind Y/n and shared a knowing look with Cedric over her head. Cedric smiled down at Y/n before walking away to talk to Fleur.
Y/n turned to face Viktor with an evident blush on her cheeks. “Want me to route for you, hmmm?”
“I would like that, yes.” he flashed her a smile and gave her a nod in confirmation. It seemed this girl could easily get him to smile, which was rare.
Y/n smiled back giving a short nod. He wanted her routing for him, that gave her butterflies. “Then you’ll have me routing for you.”
“Young love is blooming for more than one contestant it seems.” They turned upon hearing the reporter. Y/n felt slightly embarrassed having known the way she was looking at Viktor was intimate. Viktor sensed her discomfort and narrowed his eyes. “An with her own brother also a champion no less.”
Viktor stepped forward and stepped in front of Y/n, acting as a wall. With a stern face and voice. “It’s none of your business.”
“I think it’s time you left Miss Skeeter.” Dumbledore stated as he entered the champions' tent.
“I have to agree.” Igor Karkaroff said, standing up for his student and the girl he knew Viktor has a crush on.
“Mr.Diggory, your up first.” Dumbledore said after Miss Skeeter had been escorted out. Then he turned to Y/n smiling. “And Miss Diggory you should get to your seat. We’re ready to begin.”
“Be safe.” Y/n said hugging her brother as the adults left the tent.
“I will.” Cedric promises hugging her tightly before heading out.
Y/n turned to face Viktor after Cedric left and headed to the exit walking backwards. “You as well.”
Viktor gave her a nod and sent her a wink. “For you, I will.”
~
Tag list:
@gruffle1 @padawancat97
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phoebe-delia · 1 year ago
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The Family We Choose
Okay. So. I got very emo because of this post from @xx-thedarklord-xx. And then I got all the feels from @littlewinnow's INCREDIBLE art for it. And it got me thinking about what it must've been like for Hagrid to meet baby Scorp. And just. This happened.
"Hagrid, this is Scorpius Fleamont Potter." Harry gently places the little bundle in Hagrid's waiting arms.
Hagrid brings the child up close to his chest. "Oh, look at yeh," he murmurs. "Such a wee one. He's got yer eyes, Harry."
Draco chuckles softly. "Yes, he does. And my hair, luckily for him."
Harry wraps his arm around Draco. "He got the best of us both, I think."
Hagrid gazes in wonder at the baby in his arms; the chubby cheeks, the wide green eyes, the fine blond hair on his soft head.
Hagrid feels his eyes well up, and he tries to hold back his tears; he should wait to be a blubbering mess when there's not a baby in his arms, but he can't help it. He sniffs and tries not to let the overwhelming happiness in his chest take him over entirely.
When he glances back up at Harry and Draco, they're looking at him with joy and fondness; particularly Harry, who appears as close to tears as Hagrid feels himself.
"Hagrid," Harry starts, "Draco and I wanted you to be among the first on staff to meet Scorpius. And, well...We also wanted to say thank you."
Hagrid's breath catches. "Ter thank meh? Wha' for?"
"For everything," Harry shrugs. "For being part of the reason I'm here—and that Scorp is here."
"And for your great capacity for forgiveness," Draco says quietly. "I can't imagine I'd have lasted long here as a professor if not for your generosity and empathy."
Hagrid can't hold back the tears now. He looks back down at Scorpius and then at Harry and Draco. "Neither of yeh needs ter thank meh."
"We wanted to," Harry says. "And—to introduce you to your future apprentice here, of course."
Draco raises an eyebrow. "What makes you think he won't be a potions master?"
Harry shrugs. "Nothing, only that potions is a miserable subject for miserable twats."
Draco swats at his arm. "Is that any way to talk about your husband's career?"
Harry grins and rubs at his arm. "I suppose I deserved that."
"Too right you did," Draco grumbles. Harry snickers and pulls Draco closer, pressing a quick kiss to his temple.
Hagrid begins to tune out the bickering couple and looks back at Scorpius, who coos in his arms. The child is absolutely perfect; and better than that, he's safe. He's loved. And he always will be.
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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 months ago
Text
Five Fics Friday: August 23/24
Happy Friday everyone!! Finally going on my 2 week holidays, so I'm glad I have some great fics I can read if I get bored!! Check out what's on my radar this week! Enjoy!!
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awyeahitssam · 1 year ago
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Harry just can't seem to stay dead. TW: Suicide, character death, frequent character death, torture, murder, disjointed snippets, concept discontinued -
The first time he dies Harry is fifteen months old, and it’s murder. His parents are both dead already, killed by the same hand Harry himself falls to, but they aren’t in the large, white expanse he wakes up in seconds later.
In fact, Harry is quite alone.
So he does what’s natural, and cries,
and cries,
and cries.
He stops after a bit, when his chest begins to ache. If his mummy or daddy were here, they would have come.
He’s alone.
He can’t remember ever being completely alone before, but he’s a big boy. Mummy’s big boy, she always says with a beaming smile when he's been very good. He can wait for her to come get him from this strange place.
This strange, dull, all-white place.
So he sits and waits, only Harry is a child with a short attention span and an oversized imagination. He wishes he had something to do - some toy to play with. He thinks about the colorful puffs of light daddy had introduced to him yesterday longingly, and suddenly pale puffs of smoke appear before him. Pink, purple, green. All of his favorite colors.
Gasping in delight, Harry claps clumsily, but this disperses the smoke and he’s alone again.
He whines, put out. “More,” he babbles. “Moremoremore!”
Obediently, the expanse lights up again. Harry grins gummily, falling onto his back to watch the pretty colors burst above him.
After a time Harry grows bored. He thinks of home - of his blanky and his stuffed toys and his mummy’s beautiful red curls and his daddy’s laughter - and longs to return.
A portal appears below him and he drops through with a squeal of delight.
Eventually this memory fades, just like the memories of his parents, lost in the cobwebs of a small cupboard under the stairs.
...
Unlike Mummy or Daddy, the Lady has never encouraged Harry's babble or answered his questions or bowed to his demands - "juice!" or "up!" were his favorites. In fact the first time he said “no!” which usually made adults laugh, or sigh and shake their heads, Harry was spanked.
Harry had never been spanked before, not even when he crashed his toy broomstick into Mummy’s desk and got ink spilled all over himself and the ground. Mummy had said he had been a very, very bad boy to ride his broom without mummy or daddy around, and Daddy had backed her up with stern, grunting noises even though his eyes were twinkling like they did when he laughed.
Here, when he spit a mouthful of mashed banana on the floor, the Lady shrieked and threw a washcloth at him, glaring until he got the hint and sloppy mopped it up. Harry didn’t know why the Lady didn’t just make the rag do that itself, but then again Harry didn’t understand a lot of things about the Lady.
The Mister was also not very nice. When Harry was quiet Mister paid him no attention, but if he made the slightest sound Mister’s beady eyes would narrow at him and he would start to shout. Mister was very loud, loud enough that he made Harry’s little ears ring and the other boy in the house start to cry.
The Mister stopped at the tears of the other boy, and so the next time Mister shouted Harry cried. This time, Mister did not stop. He just kept yelling and yelling and yelling until Harry’s head hurt really bad, and he seemed to suddenly lose his voice altogether.
That day Harry was put into his cupboard before it got dark outside, and was not let out for a very long time.
...
The next time Harry dies he is six years old. One moment he had appeared on top of the roof of his school, and the next he is falling. (It’s not exactly an accident, but it certainly isn’t on purpose, either. Harry had landed in the center of the roof, perfectly balanced. But he had gone to peer over the edge, searching, half for Dudley and his gang, half for a way down. He didn’t have to search for long. Maybe his depth perception was bad--the teacher had said he needed glasses, but Aunt Petunia hadn't gotten him them yet.)
He breaks his neck.
When he opens his eyes in an endless white expanse he is discomfited, the brightness so disparate from the darkness of his cupboard. Almost as the thought forms, he wishes the space were not so white, and a section of the room--place--endless land--suddenly turns a comforting pitch black.
Harry stares.
...
Harry decides within his first week at Hogwarts that killing himself is too risky. At the Dursley’s he had little to no supervision, discounting nosy neighbors. Here he was watched all the time: students whispered about him in the corridors, professor’s kept a close eye on his progress in classes, and his dormitory had four other boys in it. There was no real opportunity for privacy, and he couldn’t exactly hang himself, be caught in the noose, and have to explain it all to the Headmaster. He would probably be experimented on or something. He was already so different than other boys; to push it further seemed unwise.
His first chance comes when Draco and Fang abandoned him to the mercies of the Forest, but before he can find a suitably sturdy tree branch a centaur pulls Harry onto his back and leads him from the Forest.
Harry’s getting anxious, by this point. He’s never stayed alive for so long. He feels claustrophobic in his own skin. Sometimes he scratches his nails over his flesh like it will stop the pressure in his head, but he knows there’s only one real way to be rid of it.
His time with the Dursleys had taught him nothing if not patience, so he waits. And waits. And waits.
Harry makes it all the way to Yule before puncturing his carotid with a potions knife. Waking up in the white room feels a lot like bliss.
...
Harry is face to face with Lord Voldemort, and he feels so much—but not fear.
Voldemort, he considers, is a being of rage, madness, and destruction. The only problem that Harry immediately considers is that the man might not kill him quickly.
...
Harry has killed himself many times. That doesn’t prepare him for killing somebody else.
Quirrell burns beneath his hands and Harry is so scared, relieved, horrified. He killed somebody but he is alive — yet unlike most people, even if Quirrell had killed him he would still be alive.
...
In his Second Year, Harry kills himself forty-seven times. He’d like to say it isn’t because of the entire school turning against him for an ability he can’t even control, but he’s never been in the habit of lying to himself, and that was certainly a contributing factor.
Harry had thought he’d left the condemning stares in Little Whinging, but whispers break out when he passes and people either scamper out of his way or don’t like they have something to prove.
It’s easier to kill himself with magic, Harry discovers. Typically less of a mess, too.
Snape has no desire to educate children, and especially not Harry. So the next time he finds himself in The Room, throat ripped out by a giant three-headed dog, he asks for books.
He stays for a week, studying interspersed with flying after a conjured snitch, cooking, and resting. He sleeps far better in The Room than he ever has in Hufflepuff’s dormitory. Nobody can reach him here.
It’s his sanctuary.
At the end of the week Harry has learned many things about potions, but more importantly he has learned how to make poisons.
Vomiting them up after is awful, but he has time to figure out which works best, both for killing him and for voiding after.
...
The horcruxes appear one by one.
The diary is first, of course.
...
When Harry escapes the Hospital Wing a week later the stares and whispers are worse than ever, but there’s no malice to them any longer; in fact most all of the students, and even some of the staff, are looking at him like he’s something incredible. Again.
That night Harry downs a bitter vial of poison. He’s dead before his head hits the pillow.
The first time Harry sees someone else in his sacred space, his escape from the world, he screams. He finally understands what it means when people claim they ‘see red,’ because all of Harry’s distance and half-hearted indifference shatters and all Harry can think of is splattering this intruder's blood and making his white room red.
His magic throws the teenager off his couch, rips the book from his hands, and slams him to the ground. It presses down around him, hard enough he can’t move against it, until he’s nothing more than a pinned butterfly.
“How dare you!” He shrieks. “This is my home, you think you can just do whatever you want? I’ll rip your bloody throat out, I will destroy you!”
Dark eyes stare up at him, nonplussed. Considering. “You’ve already done that.”
It’s only then that Harry actually recognizes him. He feels jolted. Alarmed. Present, like he always is here. “Riddle.”
Riddle doesn’t so much as twitch in response. He can’t, thinks Harry, with a burst of righteous pride.
“How are you here?”
Riddle’s face twists. “You should know, Potter. You’re the one who killed me.
Harry blinks down at him. Considers this. “I killed Quirrell as well, but he didn’t show up here.”
Riddle’s eyebrows draw together. “You’re twelve, and I’m the second person you’ve murdered,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Brilliant.”
“It was self defense both times,” said Harry, unbothered by the accusation. “But yes. Except for the fact that you are somehow here, in my home.”
...
When Harry next appears (absently clearing his throat - asphyxiation is far from his favorite method, but it’s certainly the easiest when staying with the Dursley’s) he doesn’t spare Riddle a glance. Though he’s reading one of Harry’s books he’s not in his space, and that’s all that truly matters. It’s more respect than Harry had been expecting. Or perhaps Riddle didn’t want to be pinned down and helpless again, which seemed far more likely.
He toes off his shoes, setting them neatly out of the way before curling into the corner of his sofa. The eyes on him are easy enough to ignore - he’s got plenty of practice by now. He tucks his legs to his chest and summons a book, flipping it open to the marked page.
Harry liked to read travel books. After being confined to a cupboard and the small, monotonous Little Whining for most of his life it was no wonder he found some excitement in accounts of exotic locations and different cultures. The rarely indulged pastime became even more excited when he entered the magical world. Reading about historically important magical sights and imagining that he might one day visit…
Tom eyes him warily. “Enjoying your summer, then?”
Harry sighed internally. Did the boy really need attention? This was supposed to be his time, his escape from the Dursleys - from everyone and everything.
“Immensely,” he returned, not bothering to glance up. He cleared his throat, slightly self-conscious at how hoarse his voice was. He had scarcely spoken ten words since his arrival ‘home’ last week.
...
“What do you want, Riddle?” Harry snapped. “Isn’t it enough you’re ruining my only get away from—”
Harry stopped himself. Voldemort had come back to life once. Who said this piece of him couldn’t as well? After all, Riddle had said they were between life and death.
“Well excuse me for wanting some conversation,” Riddle sneered back. “I spent fifty years locked away in a diary, and the last several weeks in this place.”
“You’re the one who locked yourself away,” Harry snaps, unsympathetic. “And I would’ve let you go on living if you didn’t nearly shut down the school for the second time and attempt to murder me.”
For a moment Riddle appeared mutinous. If he said “you started it,” Harry might actually kill him. Permanently. Somehow.
Instead, he lets out a breath and leans back. Harry becomes aware of his own tense posture, and quickly relaxes back into the couch, jerking his eyes away from Riddle.
This was far from the relaxation he had anticipated.
Harry let out a deep breath and flipped to the next page of his book.
The room fell silent again.
...
On the next visit, Tom is in Harry’s area. He’s using the stove, scrambling eggs, and a strange, burnt smell lingers. Harry waves his hand to banish it.
“What are you doing?”
Tom jerks around, immediately abandoning the skillet and stepping off the kitchen tiles. He eyes Harry warily, waiting for his reaction for a moment, before saying, “I haven’t eaten in a long time. I was… hungry.”
Harry considered mentioning that there was no hunger here. But physical needs and mental ones weren’t always so disparate, and Harry took his meals here during summer as well, to feel the content even if afterwards he returned to an achingly empty stomach.
Harry decides to ignore this, approaching the pan curiously. The eggs are more brown than pale yellow, over cooked and sticking to the skillet. He wrinkles his nose in distaste, waving the mess away.
He turns a frown on Riddle. “You don’t know how to cook eggs?”
Riddle’s lip curls. “You do?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ve been able to do simple things like eggs since I was four.”
Riddle’s lips purse, but Harry turns from him without waiting for more of a reaction, cracking a few brown eggs on the edge of the skillet.
“Were you trying for scrambled, or is that just how they came out?”
“I prefer over medium,” Riddle responded after a long moment.
And so Harry began to cook. His actions were smooth, comforting in their familiarity. He hardly minded cooking so long as the Dursley’s weren’t hovering around. He had thought that fondness might carry over to Potions, but that was before he met Snape.
Harry loses himself in the motions, peripherally aware of the way that Riddle is studying him. He plates the eggs and a thought is enough to keep them warm, then continues on with toast and a fry-up. It’s a bit heavier than Harry would dare eat if he was in the process of re-feeding his actual body, but if he felt the least bit ill he would just leave this plane.
Riddle takes his first bite cautiously. “It’s good,” he says to himself.
Harry side eyes him but doesn’t say anything. He takes his own bites delicately, measuring, like he always does when returning for Hogwarts. Even here, overeating with a shrunken stomach could make him sick. And doing so, only to return to the physical plane, made his shriveled stomach all the more noticable.
...
He thinks about boarding a train.
Not often, but it does come up.
“Where does it lead?” Riddle asks once, after he’s just sat, staring at it come and go, for long enough that the teenager’s finished his book.
“Somewhere a lot less dramatic, I’m sure,” Harry murmurs, watching it leave the station once again. It’s just a feeling, but Harry believes pure tranquility lies in wait at the end of those tracks. He’s also sure that it’s a one-way trip into nonexistence, and while he occasionally (okay, nearly always) longs for such a thing, he has duties. Neville and Luna depend on him - the world depends on him - and it’s all very…
Dramatic.
Harry sighs, looking away from the tracks and climbing to his feet. He should be doing something productive.
Though honestly he would much rather stare into space for the next few hours and forget the way his friends have, once again, abandoned him.
He turns to Riddle instead.
“The Triwizard Tournament. Ever heard of it?”
Riddle inclines his head. “Yes, of course. It used to be a way for the three premier European schools to prove their superiority. A Hogwarts student most always won. The practice was discontinued in 1792, when all three champions died in the first task.”
Harry stilled, taking in a quick breath.
“The book said ‘high death toll,’ but of course it’s something like that.”
Even if he died he would come back. But if he died, and died in front of a crowd of hundreds if not thousands, then came back it would be terrible.
He would become more than the Boy Who Lived. He would become the Boy Who Wouldn’t Die. An experiment, shunted into the bowels of the Ministry.
Harry sighed, throwing himself back onto the couch.
“It’s been resurrected this year,” he divulges tiredly. “And I’ve been nominated, despite the age limit being seventeen. It’s probably another ploy by your counterpart to kill me.”
There was a long silence, and when Harry at last looked up Tom was staring at him with a strange sort of intensity.
“What?”
“You can not be killed, yet you continuously die. Still, I find the thought Voldemort being the cause of such deaths... distasteful.”
“You'd rather I keep severing my carotid?” Harry asked, unsure of where Riddle was going with this.
“Were I alive, I would rather you refrain some such activities, but as I am not…” Riddle frowned at whatever he saw on Harry’s face. “Your company is preferable to eternal solitude.”
Harry rolled his eyes, ignoring the strange tightening in his chest. “You just want somebody who can cook a halfway decent meal.”
Tom shrugs nonchalantly, not gracing him with an actual response.
“Speaking of which, I’m making comfort food.”
...
“Harry-”
“I’d like to be alone,” he says, stiffly.
“Listen to me!” Tom commands, shuffling even closer.
“Leave me alone!” Harry snarls, jerking away from his touch, and in a dizzying warp Harry is quite suddenly surrounded by blackness, a sharp contrast the the pristine white of the train station.
Harry blinks, eyes squinting at the sudden shift, but then he doesn’t feel Tom’s hand on his shoulder, doesn’t feel their shoulders pressing together, and he relaxes.
...
Sirius is dead - actually, one hundred percent, can not be reached dead - and as soon as Harry escapes Dumbledore’s office he follows.
The first thing he does when he arrives is scream. He doesn’t give a fuck about the dark eyes on him, doesn’t give a fuck about anything because the only human being that actually seemed to care for Harry (for his comfort, his safety, what he wanted) was gone.
“Fucking!” Harry slammed a fist into one of his bookshelves and watched as it went up in flames, before heaving a breath and flinging a palm full of pure, destructive magic at the picture frame of he and Sirius embracing for the first time.
“Harry? Harry!”
“You really don’t want to mess with me right now, Riddle,” Harry hissed, chest heaving, fists clenched so tight that he should have bled.
“What's happened?” Tom pressed, gently laying a hand on the trembling boy's shoulder. Normally physicality seemed to soothe something in Harry, but the wizard sprang away from Tom’s touch as though it scalded him.
“Touch me again and I will raise this god-damned place to the ground, and you along with it!” Harry bellowed.
His entire body was shaking. He felt like he was splitting into a million pieces, felt useless, felt helpless. He hated Riddle for this, for what he had become, what he had inadvertently caused. Voldemort had trained the insane witch who grew up to murder her own cousin and he hated that, too.
“You have to mean it, Harry.”
Oh, but he really, really did. It was his wand - burning hot and angry in his hand - that was stopping him, not his lack of hatred.
“Potter, you cannot win against me!” she cried. He could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of him. He backed around the statue away from her, crouching behind the centaur’s legs, his head level with the house-elf’s. “I was and am the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant, I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete —”
Harry’s wand was lost to him, but in that moment he did not care. He had done powerful magic before, and now, with hatred blossoming from within him, he did not feel he needed the conduit.
He rose from behind the fountain, and yelled again, “Crucio!”
Bellatrix fell with a shriek, only it did not stop there. The most horrible, grating sound clawed its way out of her throat. Her agony was clear, but Harry was hardly satisfied with the proof of her pain. She had killed Sirius.
He did not care about the consequences. He walked until he stood above her, close enough to look in her eyes, were they not clenched tight in pain, and leveled a hand to her again.
“Avada—"
“Expelliarmus,” a high, cold voice whispered.
But Harry had no wand. “Kedavra.”
There was a burst of green, and Bellatrix lay dead. Harry grinned as he turned to face the Dark Lord, who simply stared at him, red eyes wide. The man appeared shocked, which only served to amuse Harry more — he looked much like Tom when he was dumbfounded — until he considered what drew him here. Voldemort… hadn’t he killed Sirius just as much as Bellatrix.
Something in Harry grew very cold.
“Did you tell her to?” Harry whispered, giddiness abandoning him swiftly. “Did you tell her to kill the only family I had left?”
Harry was shaking with residual rage. He felt like he could do anything. There were no consequences, nothing mattered, Sirius was dead—
“Such anger, Harry Potter. Such power.” Voldemort’s voice was as chilling as ever. Harry clenched his hands, eyes glaring up into red. Daring him to—to—to what?
“Did you tell her?” Harry demanded, pushing as hard as he could. He didn’t fully understand what he was doing, just that he needed to know, needed to see if Riddle—Voldemort—was responsible for this.
For a moment, Voldemort looked almost amused. Then his eyes widened, and Harry was falling…
He saw himself through Voldemort’s eyes — his exhausted slump, pressed tight lips, eyes alight.
What has the fool been teaching this boy?
He was forced back, his scar burning hotly and pulsating with pain.
He grimaced, but it was edged in triumph.
Voldemort didn't order it. Hadn’t even expected Sirius to be here at all. He didn’t particularly care that the man was dead, other than the errant thought that he was the end of a noble bloodline.
Voldemort’s face shifted to a snarl. The sharp gleam of hunger in his eyes was gone, consumed by fury. “How dare you,” he hissed. “Crucio.”
Harry should have expected it, but he did not. Perhaps he had gotten too used to pushing Tom’s boundaries to recall that he was dealing with a different beast altogether.
Harry was not in control here. Here, Voldemort could fight back, and he could win.
Harry fell, teeth biting into the flesh of his lips to keep from crying out. He arched from the ground, tendons straining, bones creaking as he bent to an unnatural angle. He hadn’t forgotten the agony he experienced in a dreary graveyard, but remembering the pain didn’t acclimate him to the sensation any better. Once upon a time he thought the basilisk burning through his veins was the worst feeling he would ever experience. He knew better, now.
“Scream for me,” Voldemort whispered. A hand brushed over his hair, barely there at all, and Harry ground his teeth together hard. “Don’t fight it, Harry Potter. Surrender…”
"Fuck you," Harry hissed out, barely having to open his mouth for the parseltongue.
The cruciatus stopped abruptly.
“What?” the Dark Lord whispered, or perhaps hissed.
Harry let his eyes slit open. “I said fuck you,” he repeated.
...
He falls sixteen years, six months, and two days later to Voldemort's killing curse. It’s the second time; the first brought him to the white room originally, and Harry wonders if the second will close it off to him.
But no, he appears in the train station as always. It seems death is still his choice, and though some might think a lot of his character for going towards it without this guarantee, the shards of Voldemort would undoubtedly scorn him for it.
This time Harry doesn’t question the new presence, doesn’t so much as glance at the other horcruxes who hover away from it, bright eyes wary. Unlike the others his very soul recognizes this piece of Voldemort, whose form is but an infant, skin raw and rough, flayed-looking.
It shudders, so obviously in pain, and Harry thinks it says something about the horcruxes, about Tom Riddle and Voldemort and everything in between, that the man doesn’t have enough compassion to help his own soul.
And they accused Harry of self-loathing.
From the depths of his soul, Harry really does pity them. Yes, he hates them at times, feels annoyance and affection and a chaotic jumble of incomprehensible things for the destroyed soul pieces, but he loves them too. Perhaps has loved this one the longest: this burnt husk of Voldemort that’s always been with him.
He wonders if he can even go back without him, can stand the hollow feeling where Voldemort’s soul had once fit alongside his own. He can almost feel it now, a black, echoing chasm. Or perhaps that’s just the grief for all those already dead...
Harry picks the child up easily, ignoring Tom’s grunt of discontent and the diadem’s irritated hissing. They haven’t been introduced yet, but Harry trusts the others not to allow him to attack Harry, if only in self preservation.
The reminder of the ring’s punishment is still fresh enough in their minds.
The horcrux doesn’t flinch away when Harry moves to cradle it to his chest, infinitely gentle and conscious of no-doubt sensitive skin. He wonders if its state is because of Voldemort’s Killing Curse or the neglect of Harry’s soul, though he rather suspects the former by the way the horcrux twists into him, soft whines ceasing as the cool silk brushed his tender skin.
Harry coos at it thoughtlessly, watching in wonder as it seems to oh-so-slowly heal, skin warping until it’s a smooth, pale, utterly human bundle. Dark eyelashes part and Harry is somehow unsurprised to find his own bright green eyes staring back at him from Tom Riddle’s toddler face.
What is a bit shocking is the amount of trust those eyes hold. Harry can’t ever remember looking at somebody like that. Logically Harry didn’t think Tom Riddle was capable of it.
Emotionally it made something in him melt.
Damn toddler-horcrux. Maybe Harry did have some kind of paternal instincts after all.
“That’s not one of us,” Tom Riddle sneered.
“Don’t be a berk, Tom, he obviously is,” Harry sighed. The toddler turned to look at Tom condescendingly, before turning back to Harry with a gummy smile.
Fuck, he was cute. And manipulative. Don’t trust him, Harry. Don’t give in.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Harry said sternly, even as he gently combed a hand through soft, night-dark curls. “Just because it’s working doesn’t mean I don’t know.”
“Really, put that thing down, love.” The locket said.
“This one is more mine than any of you are, and he’s staying in my arms, where he belongs.”
Harry stared down into green eyes contemplatively, before shrugging. “Well, for the moment at least. Soon I’ll need to return and off Voldemort before he gets any grand ideas of hurting more of my friends. Nagini first, though.”
The toddler huffed loudly, pudgy hands reaching up and tugging at Harry’s hair. Harry huffed, wondering if this was typical child behavior or baby Tom was trying to punish him. He caught the small hand and gently untangled it, keeping it loosely clasped in his own.
“Here’s the thing,” Harry said, looking up from the toddler. “If you guys hurt a hair on his head while I’m gone, you’ll be getting on a train to the afterlife. Express.”
The horcruxes looked bitter, mouthes twisted in disdain, though the youngest was merely watching Harry with the same thoughtful gleam in his eyes he had for five years. Harry stepped towards him, raising a brow until he held out his arms reluctantly to accept the child.
It immediately began to bawl, struggling to get back to Harry. Harry leaned in, pressing a kiss to its forehead and cooing softly. “It’s okay, my darling. Tom has you, you’re safe. He won’t hurt you, and I won’t be gone forever.”
It worked. The babe settled under his babbling, with a few heavy sniffs. Harry smiled down at it softly, and looked up to meet Tom’s gaze, intent on his face.
“I’m trusting you,” Harry says lightly, reaching out to cup the boy's cheek. He’s older than Tom, now, standing a bit taller than the sixteen year old. “Take it seriously this time, won't you?”
“You want me to care for our soul while you ensure my permanent death,” Tom replies smartly.
Harry hums, considering that. He’s standing close enough that the toddler manages to squeeze tubby fingers into the front of his robes, clinging. He slowly lets his hand fall from Tom’s face, gently grabbing the hand and holding it, instead.
“Yes,” he agrees, “that just about covers it.”
Briefly, Tom looks annoyed. Then, inexplicably, he looks fond. “We really are nothing alike, Harry Potter.”
Harry smiled at his surrender, a crooked, muted thing. “Now who’s lying to himself?”
End.
...
This guy is long abandoned, I believe I stopped touching it about five years ago or so. I found the fact that I was tracing the same plot points from the incredibly silly, and didn't enjoy the way I had expressed Harry's 'depression'. Really, I was just writing snippets, playing around with the concept when I started. I was about to just delete everything, and then I thought, I know at least one of you will enjoy this. So, here it is!
A story may come tumbling out in 3-5 years with the same general premise, but with some large changes. If that ever comes out, it will be a love note to mental health, and depict the struggle as realistically as I can write it.
Hope you have a peaceful night/day! 🖤
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unabashegirl · 1 month ago
Text
Lycan 22 — werewolf hs
Y/N Y/L/N returns to her hometown, Alsfield, when her father falls ill, only to discover the town hides a dark secret—one protected by the mysterious Harry Styles. As Y/N unravels the town's mysteries, her plans to return to San Francisco are derailed. 
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Y/N lay on Harry's bed, her mind racing with the events of the evening. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. Harry lay beside her, his hand entwined with hers, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin.
"Thank you for introducing me to your parents" Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. She turned her head to look at Harry, her eyes searching his for reassurance.
Harry smiled, a warmth in his gaze that made her heart flutter. "I knew they'd love you," he replied. "Mum's been asking about you for weeks, and Dad... well, he's always curious about anyone I bring up in conversation."
Y/N chuckled softly. "I can't believe how kind they were. I was so nervous."
Harry's grip on her hand tightened slightly. "You had nothing to worry about. You're part of this now, part of me. They can see that."
She felt a rush of emotions at his words. Part of him. The thought was both comforting and daunting. Her mind wandered back to dinner, the laughter, the easy conversations, and the warmth of Harry's family. It was so different from what she had known growing up. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a future where such evenings were a regular occurrence.
"Your mum's story about you as a kid, running around in nothing but a cape, was adorable," Y/N said, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
Harry groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "She loves to embarrass me."
"I think all parents do," Y/N said softly, her gaze serious now.
Harry's expression shifted, giving way to something deeper, more profound. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hand. "I still can’t believe I have finally found you”.
They lay in silence for a moment, the weight of their words settling around them. Y/N could feel the pull of sleep tugging at her, but there was still so much she wanted to understand, so many questions she needed answers to.
"Harry," she began hesitantly, "do you think we can talk about meeting with the elders?"
Harry's eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. He took a deep breath, his expression turning serious.
“I’ve already talked to them,” he admitted. “They’re willing to meet you, but they want to go through the binding ceremony first.”
Y/N furrowed her brow, curiosity and apprehension mixing in her eyes. “What’s that?”
Harry sat up slightly, propping himself on one elbow so he could look directly at her. “The binding ceremony is an ancient ritual. It’s where you bind to everyone in the pack, creating a deep, unbreakable connection with each member. If they accept you during the ceremony, you officially become their Luna.”
Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. “What happens if they don’t accept me?”
Harry’s gaze softened as he reached out to gently stroke her cheek. “You don’t need to worry about that. They’ve already seen how you’ve handled everything so far, and they trust my judgment. The ceremony is more about formalizing what’s already there.”
“Can you tell me more about it? What will I need to do?” Y/N asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“The ceremony is held in the heart of the forest,” Harry explained. “It’s a sacred place for our pack. You’ll stand before the elders and the pack members, and you’ll pledge your loyalty and commitment to them. In return, they’ll offer their support and protection. It’s a mutual bond. There’s also a physical aspect to it—an exchange of energy that solidifies the bond.”
Y/N nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information. “What does the exchange of energy involve?”
Harry hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s a bit difficult to explain. It’s like sharing a part of your essence with the pack and receiving a part of theirs in return. It can be intense, but it’s also incredibly powerful. It’s what will make you truly one of us.”
Y/N looked into Harry’s eyes, finding strength and reassurance in his gaze. “And you’ll be there with me?”
“Every step of the way,” he promised. “You won’t be alone”.
She took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement. “When will the ceremony take place?”
“That is entirely up to you,” Harry replied.
“Can we do it tomorrow?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with determination.
Harry’s face broke into a relieved smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he pulled her into a tight embrace. “I’m so proud of you, pup. You continue to surprise me every day. I’ll talk to the elders tomorrow so we can start preparations for you initiation”
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The next day, Harry was the first to wake up. The early morning air was crisp and biting, a thin layer of frost coating the windowpanes. He hated leaving her alone in the warm cocoon of their bed, but he needed to get the day started. As he gently disentangled himself from her embrace, the cold air rushed in, making him shiver. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and gave her mark a tender kiss, whispering, "I’ll be back”
After a quick shower, Harry dressed warmly and headed downstairs. The sky was still a muted gray, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. He had a long day ahead—patrol duty across the territory, a council meeting about the rogue threat, and a discussion with the elders. He also needed to brief Niall on recent events.
Harry stepped out into the front yard of the pack house, where the chilly air was filled with the faint crunch of frost underfoot. The high rank pack members were gathering for their morning jog, their breaths visible in the cold air.
"Good morning," Harry greeted everyone with a nod, his breath forming small clouds. He scanned the crowd and turned to Axel. "Where's Niall?"
Axel, the young omega of the pack, looked around and shrugged. "Sleeping. You know how he is," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite his youth, Axel was eager to prove himself, and Harry appreciated his dedication.
"I’m right here," came a familiar voice. Niall approached the group, yawning and rubbing his eyes. His disheveled hair and sleepy demeanor brought a chuckle from the pack.
"How come you always expect the worst of me?" Niall asked, a playful grin on his face.
“It’s a habit” As the pack members gathered around, Harry outlined the day's plans—patrol routes, updates on the rogue situation.
The atmosphere was serious yet tinged with a sense of unity and purpose.
After brief discussions and instructions, Harry led the pack on their morning jog through the frost-covered paths of the territory. The cold air invigorated them, their breaths misting in front of them as they moved in sync, a testament to their strength and unity as a pack.
Throughout the morning, Harry's mind was both focused on the tasks at hand and occasionally drifting back to Y/N, hoping she was warm and comfortable back at the pack house.
As the jog came to an end and the pack dispersed to their respective duties, Harry made his way to the council meeting, his mind already racing with strategies and plans to ensure the pack's safety and unity in the face of looming threats.
“I’ll see you two in an hour” With a nod to Axel and Niall, he turned towards the pack house. The early morning light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow across the hallway.
Reaching his bedroom door, Harry paused for a moment. His thoughts briefly lingered on Y/N, still nestled in their bed, where a few hours ago they had shared a tender cuddle. He smiled to himself, feeling the warmth of their connection, before even seeing her or entering the room.
He quietly stepped in not wanting to wake her up. Harry could only see the side of her head in the ocean of the comforter. Inside, the room was a blend of Harry’s rugged demeanor and Y/N’s softer touches. A few scatter books on her nightstand spoke of Y/N’s reading habits, while Harry’s worn jacket hung proudly over a chair. He loved that it was no longer only his bedroom, but their bedroom.
Harry left his shoes by the door, not wanting to wake her up. He walked past the bed and to his closet. He chose a fresh set of clothes suitable for the day’s responsibilities, a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater. As he undressed, his gaze wanted to the window, where the distant howl of a wolf pierced the stillness.
Stepping into the shower, he welcomed the sensation of hot water, cascading over him, washing the remnants of the morning’s jog. The steam filled the air, soothing tired muscles and clearing his mind for the challenges ahead.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, he emerged from the shower, his reflection in the mirror a stoic reminder of his responsibilities He combed his fingers through his damp hair, dark strands falling into place. “Good morning”
“Good morning” he said to just woken up Y/N who sat on the bed with puffy eyes and messy hair. He had returned to the bedroom in search for boxers and socks.
Y/N groggily rubbed her eyes, struggling to adjust to the early morning light filtering through the curtains. "What time is it?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
"It's barely seven in the morning. You should go back to bed, pup," Harry replied, a small smile playing on his lips. He found it incredibly adorable how confused and dazed she looked, her hair tousled and her eyes half-closed.
Y/N gave him a sleepy pout, but the pet name brought a warm feeling to her chest. "But we're supposed to meet the elders today," she mumbled, trying to shake off her drowsiness.
Harry chuckled softly and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We still have a few hours before we need to leave. There's plenty of time for you to rest a bit more”.
She sighed, knowing he was right but feeling too anxious to fall back asleep. "I guess I'm just nervous," she admitted, her eyes meeting his.
Harry's expression softened, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I know. I have a few meetings and I’ll come get you so we can meet up with them”
Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Alright, I'll try to rest a bit more." She lay back down, feeling the warmth of the blankets and the comfort of Harry's presence next to her.
Harry went into the bathroom and changed out of the towel into his boxers. Even as he got ready, he could still sense her anxiety and stress. Concerned, he returned to the bedroom and lay down beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. "I'll stay here with you until you fall back asleep," he murmured against her hair.
She closed her eyes, the steady rhythm of his breathing soothing her frayed nerves. As she drifted back to sleep, she felt a deep sense of security in Harry's arms.
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The meetings with the council were always stressful to say the least. Sometimes they frustrated Harry because everyone had an opinion and though their way was the best. However, the investigation towards of the rouge had been in a halt and he needed help figuring out what to do to find the culprit.
"We need to enforce a stricter curfew," one of the council members stated. "We haven't been able to pick up any scent."
"Locking everyone up will just lead to more economic problems," Niall countered. "Businesses are already suffering."
The council room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on everyone present. Harry stood at the head of the table, his brows furrowed in thought. He knew both sides had valid points, and the challenge was finding a balance that would protect the town without crippling its economy.
"We need to find a compromise," Harry said finally, his voice calm but firm. "What if we implement a curfew that still allows essential businesses to operate? We can focus our patrols around those areas to ensure safety."
Niall nodded thoughtfully. "That could work. It would allow businesses to continue operating while still maintaining a level of security."
Another council member, a woman with sharp eyes and a stern expression, leaned forward. "We also need to consider increasing our patrol units. If we can't rely on scent alone, we need more eyes and ears on the ground."
Harry agreed. "We'll double the patrols, especially in high-risk areas. We should also consider implementing a community watch program to involve more of our residents in keeping the town safe."
"That sounds like a solid plan," Niall said, his tone more hopeful. "But we need to ensure the community is informed and supportive. Panic will only make things worse."
"I'll handle the communication," Harry assured. "We'll hold a pack meeting to explain the new measures and emphasize the importance of cooperation and vigilance."
The council members nodded in agreement, and Harry felt a sense of determination settle over him. They had a plan, and now it was time to put it into action.
"Niall, arrange the meeting for this evening. Axel, ensure that everything is prepared for it.”
Niall nodded, already reaching for his phone to start coordinating the meeting. Axel gave a quick salute and headed out of the room to take care of the preparations.
"You seem on edge," Agatha, one of the oldest council members and a respected elder, remarked as she approached Harry. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before sitting down beside him.
Harry sighed, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ward off an impending headache. "I just can't believe we don't have a single lead. It's very frustrating."
"It's inevitable to feel helpless in situations like these, Harry," added Cyprus from across the table, his keen eyes observing the conversation.
Agatha's eyes softened with understanding as she looked at Harry. "Frustration is a natural response, especially when the stakes are so high. But remember, patience and perseverance are key. The answers will come, often from the places we least expect."
Cyprus nodded in agreement, leaning forward slightly. "In times like these, it's important to rely on the strength of the pack. Trust in the wisdom of those around you and the instincts that have guided us for generations. Every problem has a solution, even if it's not immediately visible."
Agatha smiled warmly.“And don't forget to take care of yourself. Leadership is a heavy burden, but you mustn't let it consume you. Your well-being is crucial to the pack's strength."
Cyprus added, "Remember that sometimes the best course of action is to step back and look at the situation from a different perspective. Fresh eyes can often see what tired ones cannot."
Harry nodded, taking their advice to heart.
"I'm actually glad you're both here," he said, looking between Agatha and Cyprus. "I've been wanting to talk to you about the binding ceremony."
Agatha and Cyprus exchanged knowing looks before turning their attention back to Harry.
"Of course," Agatha said, her voice gentle. "What is it you wish to discuss?"
Harry took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "With everything that's been happening, I want to ensure that the ceremony goes smoothly. Y/N is understandably nervous, and I want to make sure we're fully prepared."
Cyprus leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. "The binding ceremony is a significant event, both for Y/N and the pack. It's natural to feel anxious, but it's also a time of celebration and unity."
Agatha nodded in agreement. "Preparation is key. We'll need to ensure that Y/N understands every step of the process and feels supported throughout. The ceremony isn't just about the ritual; it's about the connection and trust between the Luna and the pack."
Harry felt a wave of gratitude for their understanding and support. "I want to do everything I can to make this a positive experience for her. What can we do to help her feel more at ease?"
Agatha smiled warmly. "We can arrange a small gathering before the ceremony where Y/N can meet with the elders and key members of the pack in a more relaxed setting. This will help her feel more connected and supported."
Harry nodded, feeling more confident. "Thank you. When can the ceremony take place?"
"The pack needs strengthening right now," Agatha replied. "It would be wise to hold the ceremony as soon as possible. Having a Luna will only make us stronger."
Harry considered her words, understanding the urgency. "Alright. Let's arrange for it to happen within the next few days. I'll talk to Y/N and make sure she's prepared."
Agatha smiled approvingly. "Alright. Sound like a plan”.
By the time Harry returned to the pack house, the day had stretched into nightfall, far longer than he had anticipated. The bustling pack house was filled with members bustling about, busy preparing for the upcoming meeting and eagerly awaiting his return.
"There you are," Harry said, spotting Y/N standing by the staircase with Niall and Axel. "I'm so sorry," he apologized, his tone earnest. "I tried my best to make it for lunch, but we had issues with the perimeter and patrol”.
Y/N offered him a tight smile. She had spent the entire day waiting for him, confined to the bedroom with nothing to occupy her thoughts or time. Despite her frustration, she knew that people were watching, and she was determined not to create a scene in front of the pack. Niall had eventually come to fetch her, escorting her downstairs.
Harry sensed her anger, so he simply kissed her forehead before ascending the stairs and positioning himself in front of everyone. From his vantage point, he could see the entire room, and as soon as he caught their attention, they quieted, lowering their heads in respect to their Alpha.
"Good evening," Harry began, his voice carrying through the room. "I hope you're all doing well. I realize this meeting was impromptu and feels rushed, but the information I have to share is extremely important."
"As many of you are aware, last week there was a homicide within our pack. Our trackers have detected an unfamiliar scent that has proven untraceable. In response, the council has decided to implement a stricter curfew without impacting business hours. A detailed list containing business names and their operating hours for the coming weeks has been posted outside. Additionally, you'll find the assigned patrol groups and their designated leaders tasked with safeguarding your clients, businesses, and yourselves”
Whispers and murmurs filled the room, and Harry sensed their rising panic. They were understandably frightened, and he knew their concerns were valid.
"I understand it's a frightening time," Harry reassured them, his voice steady. "We're doing everything we can to track down the person responsible. I won't rest until the rogue is found and held accountable for their actions. But I need your help too. I ask each of you to stay vigilant. Be my eyes and ears when I'm not around. Look out for your neighbors, classmates, and friends."
And that's when they heard a loud, piercing scream that sent shivers down their spines.
The scream echoed through the room like a shockwave, freezing everyone in place. Faces turned pale, eyes widened with fear, and a heavy silence descended, broken only by the pounding of hearts in chests. Each member of the pack felt a chill run down their spine, their minds racing with dread and uncertainty. In that moment, the air seemed thick with tension, as if the very walls held their breath in anticipation of what might come next.
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mads-nixon · 1 year ago
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Hey Mads,
I saw your requests are open. Could i please request a Dating Eugene Roe headcanon? Thank you 💕
Dating Eugene Roe Headcannons
Eugene Roe x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: My first ever BoB fic was about Gene, so he holds a special place in my heart. Thanks for requesting! I loved writing these!! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
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So you and Gene meet in Aldbourne when Easy first gets moved there in September of 43' (you meet in october).
You're sitting in a coffee shop reading in the corner, and he thinks you're easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Being a shy guy, Gene doesn't say anything to you the first time he sees you. He just subtly glances at you from his spot across the shop.
Turns out, he isn't as subtle as he thinks and you totally notice the staring but don't mind it because you think he's very handsome.
You come into the shop every saturday morning, and every Saturday morning, he's there as well. After a few weeks of sneaking glances, you decided enough was enough.
You walk over and introduce yourself to him, and BOY does he go red when you say that you've noticed him.
Despite the awkwardness of the beggining of the conversation, things fall into a steady rhythm, and you find yourself enjoying his company.
Gene's very soft-spoken and respectful (the BEST listener in the whole company if you ask me)
You get to know each other a little bit, and when you have to leave, you write down your address on a table napkin with a grin, telling him you're free the next day at 6.
The next day, he shows up to your house at 5:55 with a bouquet of roses, wearing his dress uniform. He offers you his arm, and the two of you are off to Swindon for the night.
It ended with a sweet kiss under the stars at your porch (there was no light on because of the black-out being in effect)
from there, it was history, and you soon fell for the cajun medic, and he fell just as hard for you.
Whenever he gets weekend passes, the two of you go for day trips to Swindon or London, strolling down the streets softly talking.
In London, you take him to Crystal Palace Park, where you lay out a soft blanket and have a cozy picnic. Your head lays on his lap, and he gently runs his hands through your hair as he talks about his family back home.
You LOVE hearing the different stories of his grandmother and her healing abilities. It only makes sense that Gene would become a medic to help people, following in her footsteps.
As his training continued and the concern of Sobel leading the company grew, Gene began to bottle up his anxieties and distance himself from you slightly.
I feel like Gene is the type of guy who wouldn't want to tell you his problems because he doesn't want to add to your plate, so he suffers in silence.
You confront him about it and he sighs before telling you everything about Sobel and how incompetent he is. (you hate him with a burning passion...possibly more than Eugene does, but it's close.)
Sunday dinner with your family becomes a weekly thing as time drags on. Your dad was hesitant to bring an American into your house, but he likes Gene more than he ever would have thought.
I'd like to think that Eugene buys you small trinkets that reminds him of you (idk where this came from but it's in my mind now)
OKAY...JEALOUS GENE IS HOT, MAN
we all know he can get fired up (after moose get's shot, he rips Dick and Harry a new one), but what gets him really fired up is when he's jealous
Some nights when you're out at a pub, men will make passes at you despite him sitting right there...boy it grinds his gears.
I have a feeling he would just sit there silent because if he opens his mouth, he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself (imagine his *angry* look after Sobel screws up the training mission in curahee) .
You notice and reach out for his hand over the table, trying to calm him down. "I'm going to get us some drinks," you squeeze his hand before getting up.
Gene's eyes follow you as you waltz across the room, and he takes a deep breath.
His gaze falls to the table for a moment, and when he turns back to you, he sees red. There's a British soldier at the bar who's all up in your personal space and is getting closer every second. Eugene can see the discomfort all over your face.
He shoots up from the table and quickly makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you behind him as he faces the guy.
"Do we have a problem here?" He asks, looking down at the man with fire in his gaze.
The Brit cowers instantly, taking his drink off the table before walking away. "No, sir."
Even through the man was super annoying, seeing Gene like that is incredibly hot, and you turn him around and kiss him.
He calms down pretty quickly after that.
Whenever they have to leave for Upottery, you share a sweet goodbye filled with tears (a lot from you and a few from Gene), and promises of writing.
You keep in contact through letter for the whole duration of the war, and the second he can leave after it's over, he comes straight to Aldbourne and asks you to marry him.
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Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton
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whinlatter · 1 year ago
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something tells me you don't really like tonks, just a hunch xD
For the relationship ask if you're still doing it: harry and remus, molly and remus, teddy and adromeda. I would love to see what do you think <3
noooo i love tonks! i had a ball writing her and think that @evesaintyves’ rendering of her is one of fandom’s greatest gifts 😭 i just find it very funny that harry thinks she should low key get a grip. and as a clumsy young woman who should myself get a grip, i say: get off her case, hjp.
ok the remus + tonks/black extended family universe... hyped for this one. delicious choices, thank you anon. (i have a few more in the inbox i'm going to take a stab at but am trying to avoid spoilery ones or ones where i risk boring you all again by repeating old talking points, so if i don't get to one pls forgive me...)
right — to business. we begin with everybody looking at remus lupin waiting for him to put his crippling self loathing aside to write (1) singular letter to his dead friend's son:
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i jest (to an extent). but i do think the entirety of harry and remus' dynamic is best encapsulated in one singular scene in PoA:
“When they get near me — ” Harry stared at Lupin’s desk, his throat tight. “I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.” Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though to grip Harry’s shoulder, but thought better of it.
i know there's a very understandable move in AUs to imagine what would have happened if remus had raised harry - or, more often, if remus had been 'allowed' to raise harry by dumbledore. but looking past the whole plot-requiring-harry-to-be-at-the-dursleys thing, the truth is, canon remus lupin would never have put himself forward to raise harry, because of his own (not unfounded!) concerns about the precarity of his existence and the dangerousness of his condition. remus' sense of self - more specifically his fear of himself, and his very low self worth - consistently lead him to hold harry at arm's length from the moment he's introduced in the series until its bitter end. i don't think remus at all approves of the way harry is treated at the dursleys. but i can very much imagine that remus thinks it would still be better than the life he could have given harry if he ever had been called upon to serve as his primary caregiver. one of the most interesting implicit dynamics in the series is that harry notices this and does, to some extent, resent it (obviously the fact that he only ever calls him 'lupin' in his narration, though uses remus to his face, and also: 'Harry had received no mail since the start of term; his only regular correspondent was now dead and although he had hoped that Lupin might write occasionally, he had so far been disappointed.') while the harry & remus fight in DH is about harry's view of what remus ought to do re tonks and the baby, it’s also harry coming as close as saying to remus: you're letting your own child down like you let me down. ('I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually... He had it coming to him,” said Harry. Broken images were racing each other through his mind: Sirius falling through the veil; Dumbledore suspended, broken, in midair; a flash of green light and his mother’s voice, begging for mercy… ‘Parents,’ said Harry, 'shouldn’t leave their kids unless—unless they’ve got to.')
molly and remus: i think this is a very, very underrated relationship! i know there’s a lot of molly-bashing around these days, especially if you’re a marauders and/or sirius and/or wolfstar stan. but i think it is very very overlooked that the person who looks after adult remus the most from 1995 onwards, and who shows him some of the deepest trust and roots for his happiness, is molly. for a man who has plainly known a huge amount of financial/food/housing insecurity, and who is so villainised in wider wizarding society, it is no small gesture for molly to not only provide for remus materially but also to trust him in a house with all of her children and encourage him in a romantic relationship he struggles to feel entitled to and worthy of. (i love sirius, but he is in no fit state to ‘look after’ remus in the last year of his life, and fandom’s continued unwillingness to recognise the importance of domestic/caregiving labour as a vital contribution to the resistance will never not be problematic af). remus clearly values and admires molly in return - the only time he actually ever entertains a parent/guardianship role is when molly is weeping over her boggart, crying onto remus’ shoulder (‘what must you think of me?’) and he assures her that if anything were to happen to her and arthur, he would be a part of the team making sure her children are taken date of (‘what do you think we’d do, let them starve?’) remus’ relationship with molly is often the more mild-mannered translator of her viewpoint to others (especially others with hot tempers), and mediator trying to find middle ground between molly’s protective instincts and the battle/ready instincts of others. (more grist to my sirius & ginny parallels mill — in DH, when a fuming ginny is desperately trying to sneak off to fight in the battle, it’s remus who appeals to molly and ginny to find the compromise of ginny staying in the room of requirement to know what’s going on but not actively fight, a mirror image of his role mediating the dispute between sirius and molly over harry’s right to know what’s going on at grimmauld in ootp…) molly accepts this compromise, a sign that she trusts remus implicitly (she never frets that a werewolf is living among her children in ootp onwards, and invites him to christmas readily even after months undercover with the pack) and also feels able to call him out (‘i’ve always said you’re taking a ridiculous line on this, remus’.) this is too long but basically — justice for molly and remus, unlikely buds!
teddy and andromeda: i weirdly think a lot about teddy lupin these days. i tend to imagine teddy as a very mild-mannered, affable, calm child, like who remus might have been had he not been bitten, with tonks' heart and sociability but also with something of remus' more philosophical disposition. i think he'd slip very naturally into a big brother role because, in part, he does see himself as having a responsibility to take care of people, and i think this would shine through in his relationship with andromeda. we know teddy was raised by his gran, and i imagine she feels enormously protective of him, perhaps bordering on strict in her desire to keep him safe from the harm that came to all the rest of her family. but i like to imagine teddy didn't act out against this too much, in part because he understands where it comes from and in turn feels very protective of andromeda. growing up in the aftermath of the war would make teddy as a child particularly aware of the grief and pain and the silences among the adults around him, and i think teddy would take any compensatory protective strictness on andromeda's part with good grace, and humour her for it. i like to think teenage/young adult teddy serves as the translator for any of his gran's more prickly edges, and that they have a very close relationship that both of them really treasure.
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localsimpissleepy · 4 months ago
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Okay
It's been a while since I talked/posted about my fankids (due to being busy with school), So now that I have some free time, I finished a few of my fankids (I'll probably make another post after this one since I still have some fankids I want to talk about)
Also
Thanks for the likes on my Next Gen au post, didn't think a few people were interested lol
Anyways, here are some of them if yall are interested
Picrew by Crowesn
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Maroon & Vermilion
He/Him (both)
18 (both)
(Twin sons of Plum & Crimson)
Idk why, but i just see Crimson & Plum having twins lmao, anyways
Just like their father (before the Skull Island accident), their both pirates that are ready to go on different adventures across the danceverses (that and commit robberies, their probably wanted in some parts of the Melosia Realms-)
Personality wise, they would definitely act like the twins from Harry Potter (I don't watch/read that series anymore, their just some of the few characters i remember) or maybe like those two opossum from the Ice Age movies
They both had a good relationship with Plum before she was killed in the Skull Island, as for Crimson, while he does get annoyed by their antics from time to time, he cares for their safety and wellbeing (he'll probably go rob people with them aswell)
And since yall know i ship Crimson & Cygnus, i MIGHT make it canon in this au
I'm just imagining the twins coming back from, idk, stealing treasures or something, and then they just see idk Crimson kissing Cygnus (Their supportive of them, but they were just really shocked at first, then they probably shaking Cygnus back and forth saying “you fucking our dad!?-”
Cygnus probably also helps them rob people aswell lol, anyways, heres some outfit ideas for them (their twins so ofcourse they'll match lol)
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Anyways, on to the next fanchild-
Picrew by kuren.
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Evangeline Rose
She/Her
16
(Daughter of Jack Rose & Brezziana)
(Runs away as one of the few Jackziana/Rosezziana shippers/hj)
Anyways
Just like her dad, Evangeline Rose is an inspiring performer and dancer
Aswell as having love for ballet from a certain...someone, she wants to become an icon in Eternyx & beyond
Personality wise, she can be a bit of a stick up when she mets new people, but once she opens up, she's a motivation friend and trys to lift up everybodys mood, just like her mom
Anyways, since she is Jack's daughter, she hangs out alot with Cygnus (terrible og grandpa figure lets go)
And since I hc that the In The Shadows coach works for Night Swan, she also hangs out with him too (although he's too full of himself to say or show that he cares for her, despite that, there still moments that show his caring side lol, Evangeline can already read through him but he keeps denying lol)
Anyways, since I still haven't reached the picture limit, I'll introduce just one more fankid
Picrew by トロロ
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Viktor
He/Him They/Them
15
(Son of Rasputin & The Bride)
One word to describe his personality? Bored about everything
One of Faer's best friends, Viktor lives in Winterhaven with his parents, he hates it there though (his only excuse is that it's cold there), so he looks forward to Faer asking him to explore the danceverses with him.
But before this, Viktor was an unplanned child of the Bride and Rasputin, because of this, the two rushed to get married, only for Rasputin not to make it to the wedding in time
This lead to Viktor being raised by The Bride for the first half of his childhood, at first, The Bride hated Viktor for looking so much like Rasputin (It's not like she wanted to hate him, she was just hurt a lot at the time), despite this, she still tried to care for him, even if it was hard for her
Because of this, he had a strained relationship with both his parents, even Rasputin, (having never met him at the time, he still hated him after all these comments The Bride made about how both of them looked similar)
Their relationship is okay now that The Bride & Rasputin are back together, but Viktor is still a bit angry at both of them after all these years
Anyways, heres his outfit ideas
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And that's all the fankids for now, like I said, I might make another post about my fankids soon
And if any of you are interested, feel free to ask questions about them of their relationships with other characters
Anways, thanks for reading this far lol
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