#like just the way raven wants to be the complete opposite of her mother but ends up looking almost exactly like her

[cometblaster2070]

something something but the utter poeticness of raven looking exactly like her mother and hating every second of it and apple not looking like her mother and resenting it so horribly.

[rapz-rites]

Cats

Damian Wayne x reader

Black cat x orange cat relationship

What happens when you and Damian get turned into cats for a day

Word count: 631

Warnings: Cute

Of course you and Damian both had to be turned into cats accidentally by Raven. She was trying a new spell, Gar distracted her and it went sideways. Damian was turned into a black cat and you were turned into an orange cat. Fitting. Luckily it would wear off after a day.

Damian, as a human or cat, was very reserved. He wanted his own space, isolated from everyone, peace. Unfortunately for Damian you were a very affectionate person. You would cuddle with Gar, comfort Jaime when he was homesick, reminding Raven she’s cared for.

Damian was the only person you couldn’t show affection. It was almost like he was allergic to it. But you were going to fix that.

As cats, if Damian was somewhere, you were right there with him. You loved it. He hated it.

Throughout the day he would try to avoid you, but you didn’t accept the hint and stayed near him anyways.

One would think Damian hated the affection you gave him, but that wasn’t the case. He kind of liked it, but he just didn’t know how to react to it. In the League of Assassins his mother never hugged him, his grandfather never asked him how he was, or ask how his day was going. But you did. You always checked up on him. Even though he acted like it annoyed him, deep down he really appreciated it.

Damian would never admit this but he got jealous when Gar would transformed into a cat play with you.

As previously mentioned, you were attached to Damian at the hips. Even when he tried hiding on top of the fridge, poof, there you were. He actually got startled by you and fell. Luckily for him, he still had his ninja agility even as a cat.

You and Damian were playing with yarn, well Damian was. No body knows what you we’re doing. Damian pushed his black yarn ball left and right between his paws. When he look over at you, that’s when he saw. You were completely entangled in purple yarn. He couldn’t help but snicker. Thankfully Raven was there to set you free. Sadly for you, she took the yarn away from you. When Damian noticed you pout he kind of felt bad. In no way was he going to give you his yarn to get tangled in, but he just his paw on you and you immediately felt better.

At one point during the day you thought it would be fun to pounce on Damian and tackle him. He just let you.

Damian was on the couch just sitting there, watching everyone. Even as a cat Damian was still intimidating. You could tell he was tense.

You sat on the opposite end of the couch. Damian didn’t know why considering how you’ve been all up on him since you two got turned into cats. He wanted you near him. As if on cue, you made your way towards Damian and rubbed your head against him. You could feel him relax from your touch. And you laid by his foot until you fell asleep.

That night Damian went to his room. Of course, you followed him. You laid on the bed just watching him. He was on his desk just looking at his thinks. He leaped down by his easel. He knows what his next painting is going to be. Being a cat for a day has really given him some inspiration.

When he was done looking around he saw you fast asleep by his pillow. He decided to join you. He laid there, cuddling with you, slowly drifting off to sleep. And that's how you two were in the morning, as humans. Starfire was sure to take a picture to send to Dick.

This was just a cute little blurb I thought of in the shower... I just wanted it to be something sweet. ☺️

[xoxochb]

Heyy :)

I would love to ask something for Connor with a Hecate!reader. I don’t really care whether it’s a headcannon a fic a blurb or something else. Whatever comes to mind!

Have a great day :D

⋆·˚ ༘ * I'd sell my own bones for sapphire stones ‘cause blue's your favorite color

warnings: none

pairing: connor stoll x daughter of hecate

you lay on your bed in cabin twenty, your cat, raven, tucked into your arms, something only she allowed you to do, and perhaps a certain son of hermes but you were unsure why she liked him because the only other person she did like was you

speak of the devil- you hear him arguing with one of your siblings at the door of your cabin, you assume your sibling won’t let him in because last time he was standing in the hecate cabin he almost killed everyone

“let him in” you yell due to your bed being on the complete opposite side of cabin

you sit up when you hear a sigh from your sibling, a large grin making its way to your face when you see your favorite boy making his way to your bed

when he reaches his destination he gasps as the sight of your cat in your lap, and he gently picks her up

“my child! how I missed you” he fake pouts and pets her softly

“she’s not yours, idiot” you roll your eyes

“well she only likes me and you, so technically we’re her parents”

you blush at his words, and then take back your cat, “what’re you doing here?”

“I want to see your book, the one about crystals and stuff” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever

but it is because you had promised to show him yesterday

“oh! yeah, let me get it” you hand raven back to connor before getting up from your bed, walking over to your bookshelf and grabbing your book, then making your way back to your bed where you find connor sitting

you take a seat beside him and open up the book, “alright let’s start at the beginning”

you begin looking through the book, showing the boy different crystals and stones, but he stops you when he sees a certain stone

“I like this one” he says pointing to it

“you like sapphire stones?” you inquire

“blue is my favorite color” he nods

you make a mental note of this and then go back to your book, and that’s what you did for the rest of the afternoon

🔮

after sunset connor leaves your cabin, and your mission is on: you’re going to find him a sapphire stone

you don’t know how, or even where to get one, but you’re going to try

you may wonder: shouldn’t the hecate cabin have them? that’s a great question, you’re unsure why but it’s one of the only stones your cabin doesn’t have

the first thing you do is ask around your cabin, but none of them had any with them. now you need to find a new plan, and that requires burnt offerings.

you didn’t usually pray to the gods, but tonight you needed it, so you sneak out of your cabin after curfew to ask a favor of your mother

once you burn your offerings- peanut m&m’s- you begin to speak: “I don’t even know if you’re going to hear this but I’d really like your help. I need a sapphire stone, preferably tonight if that’s possible. I don’t ask for much, I don’t ask for anything actually, but I really need this stone, it’s important to me”

you sigh and look up at the stars above, then looking back down when you see your fire has been put out

perhaps your mother is here! no- she wouldn’t be here.

you get up from the grass and make your way back to your cabin when you’re stopped by a tall figure

“I heard I was urgently needed?” they say- a female voice

“mother?” you ask

“that would be me, my child” she comes out from the darkness

you try to say something but all that comes out it stuttered words, nothing real

“a sapphire stone is what you need, yes?” she conquers a blue stone into her hand, then taking your hand and placing it in your palm

“yes! yeah, for my- uhm… friend” you manage to say

“a friend? you run around all night- forfeiting your sleep for someone who is just a friend?” she gives you a confused look

“yep…” you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in “well if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get some sleep in”

“yes, of course my daughter, I hope you sort out your friend situation” she smirks and with a snap of her fingers she’s gone

after a moment of shock you go back to your cabin and fall into a deep slumber until morning

🔮

in the morning you wake early even though you got maybe at least two hours of sleep.

you get up quietly, trying not to wake your siblings, you finish your morning routine and make your way to hermes cabin, but not without grabbing the stone first. once you arrive you peek in the window to see if connor is still there, but before your eyes can adjust to the darkness of the cabin you hear a voice speak

“do you always do this?”

you scramble away from the window only to be met with said boy

“holy gods of olympus, you scared me! don’t do that!” you give him a light smack on the head

“you’re the one who’s being a pervert” he points out

“no, I wasn’t. I was seeing if you were in there before I knocked on the window!” you roll your eyes

“why are you here so early?” he asks

“I’ve got something for you” you say, and he goes to say something but you stop him, “but I’m not sure if you’re worthy of it”

“yes! I’m very worthy, can I see?” he nods his head rapidly

you sigh and stuff the stone in your pocket so he doesn’t see, “nope”

“that’s not fair. what do I have to do to be worthy?” he asks putting air quotes around the last word

“apologize” you cross your arms

“for what? I didn’t do anything!” he says in disbelief

“for calling me a pervert, you weirdo!” you smack him again

he sighs and thinks for a moment before taking a step closer, cupping your face in his hands and capturing your lips with his

when he pulls away he speaks, “is that a good enough apology?”

“I suppose so” you mumble, blushing

you reach into your pocket and take out the stone, taking his hand and placing it in his palm

“a sapphire stone?” he beams

“yep. I had to talk to my mom to get it-”

“your mom?!” his eyes widen

“yeah, I asked my siblings but they didn’t have any, so I asked my mom and she came to me, I was up almost all night but I think it was worth it” you explain

he doesn’t say anything, but instead he pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug

“have I ever told you that I really really like you?” he mutters into your shoulder

you fake think for a moment before responding, “no, I don’t think you have”

“then I’ll have to show you” he picks his head up from your shoulder and captured your lips once again

and if it was relevant- you’d say it was better than the first

[countrymusiclover]

2 - Prisoners of Sky People

Part 3

Star Crossed Enemies

Tag list ( send ask to be added ) @severa-kane @100foreverfiles @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @lover-of-books-and-tea @kmc1989 @caprisunzz

The moment I began to regain consciousness I felt a lot of pain. Blinking my eyes open I instantly shut them seeing bright lights shining above my head. Finally peeking one eye open I got adjusted to the brightness enough where I attempted to move forward seeing I was inside a large metal dropship compared to the one I came down in two years ago.

Unfortunately the second I went to take a step forward my body was yanked backwards rather harshly making me nearly scream till I bit my lip. “Agh! - smart play using zip ties.” Eyeing my wrists and ankles were held down on metal poles.

Shifting my gaze around the room I didn’t see many shortcuts to escape. The hatch in the floor was shut and there were zero sharp objects I could use to snap my restraints so I was a sitting duck. My pack and weapons were laying on the opposite side of the room beside a makeshift chair. “We’re smarter than you people think we are, grounder girl.”

“Bellamy.” I muttered barely above a whisper not hearing the metal hatch open and close before I noticed the boy with curly hair sitting a few feet away from me on the makeshift chair.

He pushed himself up to stand , coming to stand directly in front of me. “You’re friend downstairs isn’t much for talking. So I’m hoping you will be up to having a conversation with me. What’s your name?”

“Cassio.” I simply replied preferring to be called by a nickname Glass gave me then my full birth name the Ark had given me. “Yours is Bellamy, right?”

He sent me a slight glare. “You were listening in on our conversations weren’t you. What did you find out about us hmm?”

“That they sent you down here like lab rats to die. You may look at us like we’re the enemy who wants to kill you but you should consider the ones who put you all on this ship and dumped you down here just to save the place you came from. Doesn’t sound like you’re leaders care too much about anyone but themselves.”

Bellamy lifted his head silently biting his lips as he took in the girls words before himself. In the few weeks they had been there he had declared the same philosophy to get the majority to remove their wristbands.

There was something about the way she said the words with such anger that he began contemplating if she was from the Ark or not, but he instantly pushed the crazy thought to the back of his mind.

“How many of you are there?” Bellamy asked me.

“12 different clans with over thousands upon thousands of grounders and only about 80 of you now. Is my math right?” I tilted my head to the side smirking until I heard a girls voice shouting from downstairs even though the metal hatch was shut.

“This is Raven Reyes. I- I'm from Mecha Station. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Doctor Abby Griffin. Doctor Abby Griffin. Now!”

My whole body stiffened up when I heard someone say her name. It had been a long time since I’d heard my mothers name. It sickened me to my stomach.

All that hate and pain coming back to the surface.

Bellamy saw my facial expression completely change. From where he was standing I appeared very pale and like I had seen or rather heard the name of a ghost. “You know someone down there don’t you, grounder girl?”

“N - no I don’t.” I did the best lie I could.

Yet it was like he could see right through my facade now where he stomped over yanking me up from the ground. He firmly held me by my forearm with my hands still tied behind my back by zip ties. “You’re lying and I’m going to find out why soon enough. Come on, let’s get your ass down there.” He pushed me down the ladder where I landed harshly on the harsh metal floor with half the group's attention on the radio and some of the others looking at me.

My mothers voice brought tears to my eyes that I couldn’t hide. “Raven? Are you there?”

Shifting my gaze over to the girl that was standing next to the one manning the radio it wasn’t difficult at all for me to recognize who it was. “Mom? Mom it's me.” The familiar figure of long blonde hair that belongs to my sister spoke towards our mother, even though she didn’t know I was her sister.

“Clarke?” Our mother asked with such relief in her tone over the radio static.

Our mother made sure of that with all the lies she spewed out over the years.

“Bellamy! What the hell are you doing to her? She could’ve been severely injured.” Clarke, my sister whipped her head around dropping down on her knees searching me over for any injuries.

He jumped down the last two ladder steps coming over to the two of us. He lifted me up from the floor dragging me by my blonde hair making me wince. “Gah! Bellam - no, no, no. I don’t want to!” He pushed my head down on the table beside the radio.

“Clarke, what was that commotion?” My mother questioned through the device causing me to whimper, clutching my eyes tightly shut, hating that I am showing emotions around members of the people I hate.

Clarke came up behind Bellamy who was holding me down with all eyes focused on the three of us. “Bellamy, this is not who we are. This grounder didn’t kidnap Octavia or kill any of our people.”

“That isn’t what this is about. She knows you’re mothers voice and I want to know why.” He barked back at her.

My sister made a confused face. “You think she’s originally from the Ark. How is that even possible?”

“Yo curly haired dude.” I finally spoke, raising my voice to get his attention.

He lowered his head down where our noses could almost touch if either of us moved forward towards the other. “You wanna tell us who you really are now?”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know just not how I know the doctor on the radio.”

Bellamy yanked me upward and pushed me up the ladder then he pushed me down in the corner beside my friend who was beaten badly. “Lincoln…”

“Which one? Which one is it? If you tell us, they'll stop.” My sister begged my friend who was tied to the wall with chains. Bellamy had been repeatedly beating him with a seatbelt strap until she got down on her knees and begged my friend. “Please tell us which is the antidote and they'll stop this.”

Bellamy tossed the strap on the floor turning on his heels grabbing me up to stand. “If that doesn't work, maybe this will.”

“Bellamy, don’t hurt her.” Octavia his sister begged him before he picked up the poisoned knife in his freehand, dragging me directly to stand in front of my friend.

He suddenly made me cut whatever I was about to say short once I felt the cold blade pressed against my neck drawing some blood. “Bellamy, he won’t-“

“You’re friend won’t let you die. He’ll have no choice but to tell us the antidote to save your life and Finn’s.” Bellamy growled in my ear speaking towards my sister in a softer voice. “Clarke, you don't have to be here for this.”

Unfortunately I knew my sister wouldn’t back down from saving someone. She was exactly like our mother. “I'm not leaving until I get that antidote.”

“No more!” Octavia shouted, pushing me out of her brother’s tight grasp before he could cut my throat.

I collapsed against the nearest wall behind me. Pressing my body against it as much as I could not expect her to react in that way for someone she didn’t even know. Holding a hand to the small wound on my neck as best I could manage I didn’t utter another word.

Bellamy raised his voice. “Octavia what the hell are you doing?”

“He won’t let me die.” She muttered looking at Lincoln who nodded his head at the last vial that she had shown him.

Clarke takes the vial from the girl rushing down the ladder. “Thank you.”

Bellamy tried to help his sister up from the floor but she smacked his hand away. He slowly shifted his dark brown eyes over in my direction where I sucked in a breath unsure of what he would attempt to do to me next. He bent himself down on one knee brushing some of my messy hair out of my face. “What are you going to do with me now, sky boy?”

“We’re keeping you both here in our camp. Your friend will be here as leverage and we’ll use you to gather as much information as we can. And I know you’ll do it because if you don’t I’ll start hurting your friend. Do you understand that?”

I gulped nervously before he climbed down the ladder and shut it leaving me upstairs with Lincoln chained to the wall. “I understand, sir.”

[athenodora-sulpicia-writer]

Vanessa ives - where we meet at a ball and she ask us to dance, she never got our name and follows us home to find out we are the daughter of Evelyn Poole. So we start seeing Vanessa behind our mothers back and maybe if you could add some smut between us and vanessa?

Forbidden Love- Part 1- Vanessa Ives

A/N: Hey @wandamaximoff2823 thank you for your request, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I've been really struggling to get back into writing but better as never I suppose 😅, anyway I hope you enjoy this and that it was worth the wait.

Warning(s): Scars, smut, mentions of neglect/abuse.

I was never one to be interested in the intricacies of the aristocratic ways of the upper class but mother had asked me to be here and what ever mother asked you to do was never a simple request but a very firm order.

I entered the lavish estate of a Mr Dorian Grey, unescorted of course, how scandalous. A butler or perhaps he was a servant came and took my cloak and directed to me where all the fuss and chatter was coming from, so I followed the sound of champagne induced laughter and discussion of who owned the most properties in the countries, which took me to a grand ballroom which was filled to the brim of upper class Londoners, an orchestra and the walls were completely lined with portraits, show off.

I weaved my way through the large doorway that lead into the ballroom a feat which would have been easier if everyone was deciding to take up the space. I'd originally dressed to blend in and not draw in to much unwanted attention, who would have thought that wearing dress of gold and white (the opposite of what my mother would have ever approved of) would have caught so many stares and glances.

A server came to me with a tray of champagne and though I was usually partial to a class or two I knew I had to keep my mind as agile as possible for the task my mother had sent me to do. I was told to not get to close to Miss Ives but just enough to use some effective Nightwalker magic on her mind, this should have been Hecate's job not mine but apparently according to mother "Hecate had her own tasks" I would have used the chores or enslavement but I'd rather not have a gash from the tip of my cheek to my chin so I kept my mouth shut.

For a moment as I was thinking a man approached me and I could already smell the alcohol from a mile, this would be wonderful not, I snarled for a moment at the thought but as the man was now in reach of me I returned my face to its natural composure.

"What's a charming dove like you doing all alone and without a chaperone?" This man, who looked old enough to be a someone who should start writing their will, asked me. Who looked like the usual upper class prick, my least favourite kind of mortal irritation.

"That is none of your concern sir, now if you wouldn't mind walking off to go and compare your assets, though I'm sure yours are lacking by the looks of things, with the other gentlemen I'd be most thankful." I said the man with my best 'I'm super important' voice but when the man didn't leave I know that my word choice may have been a little too much.

"How dare you speak to me in such a way," The man snarled at me and was quick to grab my upper arm harshly and with so many people in the room it would be easy to not notice or ignore what he was doing. "Now judging by your dress I'd say your still a maid, so why don't you be a good little heiress and have a drink with me on the balcony," Damn this dress I just wanted to wear something that was the opposite of the scars on back and now I was being mistaken for a maid because of it, just fabulous.

As more time passed and I hadn't responded, the man's grip on my upper arm was becoming painfully tight and even for someone like me, I couldn't hold back a wince.

"Ah cousin," I heard a feminine voice call out and upon hearing the voice my head turned abruptly to the direction of the voice and then I saw her. She had raven black hair, sky blue eyes and pale ivory skin and was wearing the most fabulous black and red dress I'd ever seen and she was walking over to me. Well that's half a job done and half a job failed.

Once she stood by my side she began to speak again, "Thank you for keeping my cousin company Sir," She spoke to the man who still had his hand on my upper arm, "But now that I am here I believe she is no longer in need of your company," Her voice which originally was soft and compliant of any woman in this room and now become more natural almost steely.

I could feel the man's grip tighten and I knew who was about to say something but for whatever reason after he made eye contact with my ravenette saviour he let go of my arm completely and walked off without another word. My first reaction was to rub at my arm, even if I knew it would heal within a minute or two.

"I Apologise for the cousin lie but I can tell when a woman is uncomfortable." She spoke to me with a kindness I knew would be there if she knew who I actually was. "My name is Miss Ives," She spoke again with a slight bit more formality, extending out a hand for me to shake and suddenly I was grateful to the creme gloves I was wearing because if I weren't she'd probably be able to sense exactly what I was.

"No apologies needed, It's a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Ives." I spoke with the same slight formality as she but then I soon thought of the implications of my words and I began to internally kick myself for making such a slip up, my mother was going to kill me if I messed this up.

"To finally meet me?" She looked at my with a smile and odd confusement in her expression. "Why have we been intending to meet one another before today?" She asked me curiously with a slight chuckle to her voice which was somewhere between being eerie and joyful.

"Not at all, I simply meant that," I paused for a moment to think of a better excuse for my slip up, "I've heard your name on people's lips before, it's nice to put a face to the name, Miss Ives." I said coming up with something that I thought was a decent enough excuse that would hopefully appease her curiosity.

"Oh, I didn't know I was a topic of gossip," She spoke again and though she was trying to feign ignorance I could tell she had noticed my slip up by the way her eyes looked at me and how her pupils darkened with triumph at her victory.

"Well anyway would you care for a dance?" She asked me her tone lighter with an undertone of something that was perhaps mischief, as she gave a slightly bow and extended out hand, facing upwards, to me.

"Well people do like to talk," I was very quickly scanning the ballroom for a quick escaped to the exit and when I found it I took my chances, "I must be going Miss Ives, good evening." I said the formal goodbye and quickly left through the small gap that had been left to the exit and retrieved my own cloak and quickly began to set off back up to the manor we were staying in that was slight ways away.

As I walked under the nights dark sky at a brisk pace, I thought of how I knew my mother would be anything but pleased at what she would see as a display of my incompetence at not completely her 'simple' task but I also thought about how what she didn't know couldn't hurt her, a policy I very much enjoyed using with my mother. Though if she were to ever find out I knew I'd probably be crucified upside down with no last words being allowed.

Not long later I made up back to our home, a manor that was slightly outside of central London. I walked up the stone steps that led to the large front doors which i opened with a heavy gust of wind which came when I turned my wrist in just the right way and I walked inside oblivious to anything else as I took my cloak off and threw it somewhere I didn't care to check.

As I walked further into the foyer at the front of the manner, I started ragging the gloves of my arms and unpinning the mass of my that sat atop my head. It felt euphoric when my hair cascaded down my back because finally all the weight was off the crown of my head and sighed out in a pleased way not caring for all the bobby pins that were fall the marble floor and making a clattering sound.

For a moment all I thought I could hear was the clattering of my bobby pins on the floor, which was a lovely relief because it meant that my mother possibly my sisters weren't in the manor or they were at least asleep, either way I was happy to not be bothered by any of them.

As I just about started to walk up the overly elaborate staircase upstairs, I heard a bang and then a mumble and quickly whipped my body around to the direction of the sound which just happened to be the front doors and then I saw her, Vanessa, well this is just fabulous.

"Miss Ives, what on earth are you doing here?" I asked feigning confusion and innocence as I walked down the few steps I had just walked up. I then walked over to where Vanessa was, in the middle of the foyer, taking in her surroundings of the dark and quietly frankly disturbing manor.

"You never told me your name," She began to say, the meaning behind her voice was obviously detached from what she was saying to me as she was to focused on surveying her new surroundings. "What possible reason do you have for being here?" She asked me finally making eye contact and her steely gaze was hardened and distrusting.

She must be able to feel the aura of the manor, Hell she probably had a pretty good idea about who lived here which meant she probably knew what I was. "Miss Ives I know how it may look but..." I began to say to Vanessa before I heard the creaking of floorboards coming from upstairs and as the noise grew closer the sound of footsteps accompanied it.

A horrible sense of dread filled my chest because I knew that it was just the wind or if it was a person, as I suspected it was, it wasn't one of my sisters, it was my mother. I didn't have much time to think and I'm not sure what compelled me to do it but I quickly faced Vanessa agin and twisted my wrist in her direction and a gust of with pushed her against one of the far walls and quickly I consumed her in enough mist to make her invisible.

Just as I turned back around to face the staircase but before I was able to regain my composure, my mother was at the top of the staircase in one of her robes and her hair pinned. "Oh mother, hello," I spoke trying calm my voice down as to not give anything away.

"Y/N you've returned, I assume the task I sent you on was a success then." She phrased it in a way that anyone would think it was meant as a question but I knew she didn't mean it as one, she never did.

"Yes mother," I spoke with my head bowed, lying through the skin of my teeth, praying she wouldn't notice my lie. "Lucifer's bride had a bit of a manic episode at the party and fainted," I explained to my mother whilst trying to come up with a believable lie, we were expected to refer to Vanessa as Lucifer's bride, the thought always made my skin crawl but I'd never let it show.

"Good, I'm pleased to hear," I eternally sighed of relief when my mother spoke like she had know idea that I had lied to her and I was grateful for it. "Well I shall retire for night now," She then finished saying as she walked back the way she came and the sound of her footsteps soon disappeared completely.

Once my mother was gone I couldn't even give myself a moment to enjoy my victory as I know Vanessa was still stuck the wall and covered in mist. I quickly ran other to where I cast her off and released from my nightwalker magic, to which she fell from the wall gasping for breath.

"Miss Ives," I quickly got down on the floor as she was still gasping, "Miss Ives you must leave, if my mother or sisters find you here you will never leave," I tried to encourage her off the floor and I eventually got her to her feet but she wasn't leaving. "Listen, I understand your in shock and still recovering but you have to leave right now," I kept urgently encouraging her to leave but it wasn't quite working. "Vanessa!" I shouted her name and this finally snapped her out of wherever she'd been in her head, she made eye contact with me once before running out of the manner and disappearing and all I could do was finally sigh in relief. What a night. __________________________________ So I've had to split this request into two parts because it was getting a little long. Anyway, thank you all for reading, I hope you all enjoyed and until next time fellow readers.

Tag List @ateliefloresdaprimavera @cissyenthusiast010155 @multifandomfix @multimilfs

[imsparky2002]

We All Dye - A Teen Titans (Girls) AU

Band: We All Dye

Founded: October 30, 1999

Location: Jump City, California

Fun Facts

The band is called We All Dye because at the time, everyone had dyed hair.

While they officially formed the band in 1999, they had been practicing together for about a year before the official founding. Their first concert was on Halloween.

Rachel Roth (Raven)

Born: May 1, 1986

Favorite Acts: The Cure, Korn, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Radiohead, Joy Division

Instruments: Lead Vocals

About: On stage, Rachel Roth is a gothic force of nature. She loses herself in the music, putting all her emotions on display and excelling in flair and passion. When she's offstage, Roth is the complete opposite. In real life, she's a reserved and mild-mannered kid who uses sarcasm and bluntness on a regular basis. Rachel's look on life had been jaded even before her mother's death from cancer, an which caused her to create the band as a way of finally releasing her emotions and hurt in a creative manner. She found that in making the band, she had found lifelong friends who would be there for her every step of the way. She tries her best to do the same for them.

Kori Anderson (Starfire)

Born: May 21, 1986

Favorite Acts: Bjork, Britney Spears, The Beach Boys, David Bowie, Rush, Sum 41

Instruments: Lead Guitar

About: An immigrant from Canada, Kori is without a doubt one of the nicest people you will ever meet. Though she's unapolagetically peppy, she's got a love for rock. She is trusting to a fault, which her older sister Kristen (Blackfire) would take advantage of. It was only after her bandmates showed Kori that she was being mistreated, did she finally begin to stand up for herself. Now she feels that she's finally gained true sisters.

Karen Beecher (Bumblebee)

Born: March 19, 1986

Favorite Acts: Jamiroquai, Green Day, Gloria Gaynor, Prince, Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill

Instruments: Rhythm Guitar, Backing Vocals

About: The mom of the group, Karen works alongside Kori to be the peacekeeper. She makes sure everybody's packed and ready to go for concerts. Karen's certainly busy as a bee, which just so happens to be her favorite animal. She's also a proud nerd, hoping to work in tech if the band somehow fails to work out.

Tara Markov (Terra)

Born: February 21, 1986

Favorite Acts: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Joan Jett, Soundgarden, Fiona Apple, Avril Lavigne

Instruments: Bass

About: Tara is a girl who is not afraid to get her hands dirty or speak her mind. This came from being bullied in childhood as a poverty-ridden kid needing to fight for everything she had. She chose to play bass as she felt it fit her "no-theatrics" attitude. Tara also is the most likely to argue either for herself or for other members of the band if she feels anyone is being disrespected.

Alina Hao (Jinx)

Born: August 8, 1986

Favorite Acts: Hex Girls (She won't apologize), Queen, Shonen Knife, Misfits, Stevie Nicks

Instruments: Keyboards, Backing Vocals

About: Alina is as wry, passionate and mischievous as they come. When Rachel was creating her on-stage persona, she mostly drew inspiration from Alina's theatricality. Funnily enough, Alina and Rachel had been rivals in elementary school, due to frequent bouts for spots in school plays. It was only after puberty and tragedy in Rachel's life did the two realize how silly their rivalry truly was, and Alina was invited into the friend group. Now she feels it's her job to back up her friends, and occasionally drive them nuts with pranks.

Rose Wilson (Ravager)

Born: February 21, 1986

Favorite Acts: Nine Inch Nails, Metallica, Alanis Morissette, Guns 'n Roses, Rage Against the Machine, Le Tigre

Instruments: Drums

About: If you want to keep Rose happy, don't tell her what to do without a good reason. She has problems with authority due to issues with her parents and being seen as a disappointment by most of her teachers. Having two younger brothers (with an older brother, Grant, who's serving in the Army) to protect from their mom and dad means she looks out for other kids going through a hard time. It's also caused her to become jaded, using snarkiness as a way to cope with the feelings of hurt and anger that have built up inside her. While she sees all her bandmates as sisters, she particularly bonds with Tara as a fellow victim of parental abuse, even if they bicker a lot.

So that's the band so far. Credit to Artzy for the name choice! Lemme know headcanons, and thoughts in the replies and reblogs. @artzychic27 @nerd-chocolate @msweebyness

[asimperingswannsong]

Rosemary’s Mother

Part 1 of ?

Rosemary Winters (RE8), Lady Dimitrescu (RE8)/Larissa Weems (Wednesday)

Notes/warnings/summary: Why do these two women have such a stranglehold on me? When is Gwen going to be cast as Lady D? IDK but here in this house both mommies are alive and well and mothering…as it should be.

————————

Alcina woke in darkness her eyes could not penetrate. “What? What is this?” She felt herself floating in a void. Then she remembered. “He killed me! That stupid man thing!” “Where am I?”

Then she remembered her daughters and she felt her grief wash over her. She felt like she was drowning! “Bella!” “No!” She wanted to cry but she couldn’t. She was in some sort of disembodied conscious state.

He took everything from her. She was just a well of sorrow. Why was she here? Where was she? What was she? “Mother Miranda?” She must be trying to resurrecting her. She tried to reach out somehow into the void. Then she felt it; another presence. “Who’s there? Mother?

No, not Miranda. It felt like fear. It was timid, but curious; reaching out to her as she tried to reach out to it. “Hello? Who are you?” One of her daughters? Her heart leapt at the thought.

She felt a sort of buzzing; an electrical current flowing around her. She felt herself coming together in the void; her physical person; she was back in her body.

She turned around seeing a dim light coming from behind her. There was a small child silhouetted in front of her. A small, dark figure facing her. Alcina bent double to try and be closer to the child’s level.

“Hello, sweetling,” she said gently. “Are you alright?” She received no response but she continued to feel fear emanating from the girl. “Come here to me, sweetling. Come to mother,” she coaxed.

Suddenly she felt herself being pulled away; they were both being pulled in opposite directions from one another. “No! No! Rosemary? Come back to me child!” She was enveloped once more by darkness, and she awoke in the rubble of her home. “Rosemary?”

—————————

Larissa made her way down the main staircase to the entry foyer of Nevermore Academy where she found her prospective student standing and gawking at the architecture around her. She could see the lower body of her mother waiting just outside the door. “She must be even taller than me,” she thought to herself.

“Good morning, Ms. Winters, is it? I’m Principal Weems.” The girl spun around. “Good morning, Principal Weems, I’m Rose and this is my mom, Lady Dimitrescu,” she gestured toward the headless body outside. “Good morning, Lady Dimitrescu, do please come inside,” she called.

The woman bent down a good ways to clear the seven foot entryway. “Good morning, Principal Weems,” a stunning raven haired woman said as she appeared inside draped in a floor length white gown with a black dahlia pinned above her bosom on the left. Larissa immediately liked this tall and stunning woman.

She smiled brightly at her. “My, it isn’t often I find myself looking up to someone. What a refreshing change.” The lady smiled at her in return. “You’re a lovely, petite flower.” Larissa caught the gagging face Rosemary made out of the corner of her eye and smiled even wider.

“My office is just upstairs, shall we?” She turned and led the way, falling into her well worn speech about the schools history and some of its most notable alumni. Lady Dimitrescu enjoyed the ample view while following along behind; suddenly her daughter’s choice to tour the school was a little less irritating to her.

Larissa told them a little about the variety of “outcasts” enrolled in the school; some of them common, some rare, and a few entirely unique in their abilities. Alcina discovered that Rose had been honest with her when she’d told her mother she thought she’d find the guidance she felt she needed here.

It did not entirely placate Alcina’s worry that her daughter wanted to break free from her. The notion did not sit well with her at all. Her three older daughters had always been completely devoted to their mother. The four of them were very alike in their desires, hungers, and basic needs. Rose was very different from her mother, and Alcina had changed many things about the way they lived their day to day life in order to better cater to this daughter.

But she never expected her daughter to want to live away from her, especially not so soon. Rose said she wanted someone she could learn from, who could help her be more in control of her powers, and Alcina did not seem to be able to help satisfactorily.

Alcina was frightened of losing Rose, the way she had her other daughters, but she wasn’t prepared to say, “I don’t want to lose you.” That was too vulnerable, so instead, she resorted to being extra irritable toward her while simultaneously endeavoring to spend every second in her immediate presence as they prepared to come to Nevermore for their visit.

But this woman in front of her gave off the impression that she’d encountered all manner of young people with all sorts of abilities and she seemed unruffled; entirely in control of herself and her school. That confident air coupled with the elegance of the woman’s dress and appearance caused Alcina to briefly entertain the thought, “If I were ever to allow anyone to act as a caregiver to my child, it would be someone like her.”

Unfortunately, that thought was immediately followed by, “Of course, the only person I want caring for my little girl is me,” and her eyes narrowed in a possessive, almost aggressive, way. She gritted her teeth as Larissa turned back to them. She gave Alcina another of her warm, beautiful, smiles and said sweetly, “Here we are,” as she opened the door for them to step inside.

——————-

“I see your prior education has been entirely home based?” Larissa said as she reviewed Rose’s file. Alcina started to speak, but Rose interjected, “Yes, my mother is very…protective, but she’s done a fantastic job so far.” Larissa smiled, “I agree. Your exam scores were impressive. You must be very proud of her.”

Alcina smiled at Larissa’s complimentary tone. “Yes, she’s all I have left, and I am proud of her.” Concern creased Larissa’s brow, “Yes, I saw in Rose’s background file, you mentioned that her sisters had passed away. I’m so sorry for you loss. It must be very difficult for you, especially with Ms. Winters getting older and beginning to express a certain independence, as they inevitably will do.”

Larissa saw the look of worry on Alcina’s face. Rose reached out and took her hand. Alcina lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it before looking at her daughter with an almost pleading gaze. “Of course, I’m sure that independence in no way interferes with a child’s love for their parent,” Larissa offered. “Of course, I’m still entirely devoted to mother. It’s just that I have certain abilities now that I don’t feel completely in control of and since I can’t seem to find a way to be rid of them, I would at least like to feel in charge of them.” “Well, I’m confident we can help you with that, Ms. Winters. That’s the whole purpose behind Nevermore Academy. We strive to offer a sense of belonging and security as we help students understand and control their unique abilities.”

“Shall I have you take a tour of the grounds and facilities, Ms. Winters?” Larissa called her assistant on the phone and a young lady arrived shortly after. “Ready?” she asked Rose brightly. “May I accompany them?” Alcina asked. “Oh, yes, of course,” Larissa said.

Their tour guide was a bubbly young blonde girl. Alcina found her enthusiasm a little trying, but she appreciated how warm and friendly she was being toward Rose as she led them around explaining the purpose of each communal area.

Rose seemed to really enjoy the company of someone her own age and it caused Alcina to worry that Rose felt she was missing out on things by living alone in a house with just her mother and a handful of servants as company.

A big part of Alcina wanted to grab Rose up and run away with her; lock her inside their home and never allow her to see the light of day again. But the rest of her wanted to see her daughter happy, as she seemed to be right now.

Enid left the pair standing in the quad as she went to fetch Principal Weems when they’d finished their tour. The pair seemed fine when she left, but by the time Larissa stepped into the grounds she was startled to find two of her male students cowering before an enraged looking Lady Dimitrescu. She towered over them menacingly and as Larissa walked quicker towards them she saw the largest set of claws she’d ever seen extend from one of Alcina’s hands.

Larissa broke into a run. “Lady Dimitrescu!” she called breathlessly. Alcina turned toward Larissa, her eyes glowing angrily and Larissa stopped in her tracks. She noticed the students running in opposite directions from behind Alcina.

“Mother! Stop it right now,” Rose shouted. Alcina turned, apparently startled by her daughter reprimanding her. Her claws retracted. “Did you know there were young man things here,” she asked Rose? “Yes, mother, I knew it was a co-ed school.”

“And you expected me to allow you to stay here with them?” Alcina was yelling at her daughter loudly enough for most of campus to hear. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu,” Larissa tried to intervene.

Alcina turned back toward her and her eyes began to glow again, but this time Larissa stood her ground, determined to help Rose. “Can we not discuss this back in my office so we don’t embarrass Ms. Winters in front of her peers?”

Alcina turned back to her daughter and saw tears brimming in the bottoms of her eyes. Her demeanor changed immediately. She went to her daughter, scooping her up into her arms, and cradling her against her bosom like a small child. She placed a kiss in the girl’s hair.

“Please don’t cry, sweetling, mother is sorry.” Larissa was relieved to see Alcina’s anger gone. She gestured for them to return inside. Larissa smiled slightly at the sight of the girl’s face still buried in her mother’s bosom, but she was also concerned about the dynamic between them.

Larissa felt they could both benefit from some time spent apart from one another. She was no novice at dealing with helicopter parents. However, the height, glowing eyes, fangs, and four foot claws were a tricky combination. Larissa would have to tread lightly.

After managing to deposit Rose temporarily in the care of her would be dorm mom, Larissa led Alcina back into her office. “Lady Dimitrescu, you frightened my students with your behavior earlier. The two young gentlemen may have been a little overly friendly toward Ms. Winters, but I assure they are harmless.”

“I did not raise her to take a liking to man things and I did not realize they would be present here.” She stopped as she noticed Larissa appearing to hold back a chuckle. She scowled slightly. “What is it? What’s so amusing?” “I’m sorry…really. It’s just…” “What?” “Well, I don’t know about you, but whatever intentions my parents may have had for me in that regard, they were entirely unsuccessful.”

Alcina raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What about you? Did you develop an interest in the sort of people you were ‘raised’ to like?” “That was a long time ago…but, no, I don’t suppose I did.”

Larissa smiled at her. “I think that’s often the case, but I can assure you, we have strict policies here against boy/girl mingling in their dormitories. Each dorm has a teacher who resides there, and they watch their assigned students like a hawk. I will, of course, make you aware of any policy violations Ms. Winters may make.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven! I'm not sure if you're up to date with Vil's bloomquet birthday story, but apparently he doesn't know much about his mom and it doesn't seem like he want to find out about her either. What do you think about Vil's mom and what are some of your speculations to her lack of appearance in her son's life?

I haven't gotten the chance to take a look at Vil's new birthday vignettes to work on a belated birthday fic until just recently! I wasn't expecting to get lore about his other parent, so it was a pleasant surprise.

I heard a lot of fan speculation that perhaps Vil has a sour relationship with his mother or that his mom is actually dead, but I personally don't think either of those is true. It's totally within the realm of possibility for him to just be estranged from his mom without being resentful of her. I also feel like there's just not enough information right now to claim she's dead?? Lack of identity is not equivalent to death. From the way Vil speaks about his mother (birthday interviews are completely voiced), he doesn't appear to harbor any ill will toward her; Vil is very passe about the situation and doesn't express an interest in learning more about her, which is valid.

Based on that information, I get the sense that Vil's mom was the type of person that wasn't involved in her child's life (the opposite of his dad, really). I don't really blame her for that, honestly??? I imagine it must be very tough dealing with a big celebrity for a partner (no matter how loving Papa Schoenheit may be). It's stressful dealing with paparazzi, constant gossip, and comparing oneself to the models/celebrities that no doubt populate Papa Schoenheit's glamorous world. Maybe it's even a case where Mama Schoenheit wasn't planning for a baby or didn't want to raise a child. Maybe there were marital issues surrounding her lack of commitment to Vil (again, believable given how committed Papa Schoenheit is), or Vil's birth gave her more stress than she could handle. There many reasons why a parent may not want the family life and thus leave it of their own accord. Now, think what you will of that, but 💦 I think it's better that Vil never knew his mom rather than grow up with a parent that may not be dedicated to raising him to be his best self. (NOTE: this is ALL speculation; we don't know a lot about this topic so I'm just rambling about potential ideas for where this could lead.)

Vil, for his part, is happy with his dad, his friends, and his career, so he doesn't seek fulfillment in knowing about the other half of his lineage. Sometimes, like Vil, you may not be curious, or you may not want to reconcile with that part of you. (It's like how some adopted children may want to meet their birth parents, while others don't or would rather not know.) That's okay, and we should normalize that!!

[mendes-bae]

A fair exchange – epilogue

series masterlist ; part seven

Part seven summary: the war is over, maybe it's time to look forward.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x (F) Targaryen!reader

Warning: incest, .

This is not the true ending of The Dance of the Dragons, it's just a reinterpretation ⚠️

Author's note: I want to thank everyone who read this fic, you have no idea how much it means to me. Thank you for every ❤ and every comment, it melted my heart. See you very soon on the blog with new stories 😊

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! this is my first time writing a fic in English, so beforehand, i'm sorry 👀

All the rights belong to the showrunners of HOTD and George R.R Martin, author of Fire and blood & Song of ice and fire series ‼️

Word count: 1075

Five years after Rhaenyra I's coronation — Lys Island.

Aemond watched the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys play with Velarys on the seashore, while Aethan and Khaenys built sand castles a few yards away with Maelor.

The exiled prince watched his wife enjoy herself, with coastal wind blowing the skirt of her linen dress and salt water splashing her skin making it glow, happier than ever.

After Queen Rhaenyra issued a pardon, they both decided to leave the capital with the little children of her late sister, because without Helaena and Aegon the little ones had been left orphans. Every night when the children were tucked in, Aemond remembered his wife's words when they placed their nephews and niece under their protection: "In the past I lost two children, and these children have lost their mother, it is our destiny to be together."

Aemond couldn't help but feel the same way, he loved sweet Helaena's children as if they were his own and just thinking that they might be alone in this world made him shudder.

He could watch them run, listen to them laugh and scream for hours. Khaenys was so similar to her sister Ellarys that sometimes he could swear he could see her reflected in the little one, they both had a sweet and innocent personality that characterized them. His older brother by only one year, Aethan, was a curious child, who liked to play pranks on his sister but when the little girl shed a tear, he was the most protective ser in the Seven Kingdoms. They were both very close and it was something that made him happy because he had not been able to have that closeness with his own brother.

Jaehaera looked too much like her lovely mother while her twin brother was the complete opposite, he could fight with sticks alongside his cousin all afternoon pretending to be knights in shining armor. On the other hand, Maelor was a special case, as Velarys had formed a great bond with him.

The boy was only months old when his mother died and the war ended. When they adopted the little ones, Maelor cried for her mother's breast but the only thing the couple could do to calm his hunger was to give him goat's milk, however he refused it. For a while, Velarys and Aemond thought the baby was starving, but suddenly milk gushed from the Targaryen princess's breasts and they knew they were expecting Aethan. Velarys nursed the child as if it were her own, for which their relationship became extremely strong and the moment Maelor began to crawl he followed her throughout the small house they had been able to build.

They lived on an islet in Lys, a small island off Essos. There was no civilization around, a little piece of paradise just for them. If they looked across the Narrow Sea to the horizon, they could see Sunspear's shores in Dorne.

They had to navigate their small boat to get supplies in the nearest city, only a few kilometers away.

They lived on what they could catch in the day and what the merchants in the port paid them. It wasn't much and they didn't have a palatial life, but they had everything they needed to have a happy life.

Rhaenyra knew of the existence of their children and how her sister was, so very often, ravens would arrive with letters from the Queen and with small bags of gold that Velarys kept but never used.

Velarys often wondered if he had done the right thing in leaving Westeros, but each time her children hugged them and spoke tenderly to them, she was convinced that she had saved them from a life surrounded by greed.

"Mommy, look what I found" Khaenys said, running in her bare feet towards her mother.

Aemond walked up to his family.

"It's a turtle... maybe one day it will grow as big as Vaghnar" she exclaimed looking at the small animal.

Velarys, who was paying full attention to her now, laughed at the idea of her little four-year-old daughter.

"Of course, love" the princess stroked her soft hair.

The girl looked excitedly at her mother and ran to her brothers to show them her great find. Aemond wished that they could continue to be children longer, he loved the mischief that all of his children shared and feared that they would eventually lose it.

￮ ੭ 𓈒 ˙ 🐉🐉🐉 ˳ ⊹ ˚ 𝅄

When Aemond awoke to find his wife not beside him in bed, he was concerned. He got up with a naked torso because he used to sleep without a shirt due to the heat at night. He looked out the window and saw the dragon with green scales under the cloud line, on its back Velarys Targaryen. He had always loved seeing her hair fly in the wind and watching her thighs cling to her dragon's body, she looked powerful and imposing.

She no longer rode her dragon as often as before, in fact Vaghnar was the one who visited her on the small island they lived on. As far as he knew the beast flew from Sothoryos, the continent teeming with wild dragons and such creatures that his eyes saw only on books pages.

When Vhagar had died at the queen's command years before (punishment he had accepted for Lucerys' merciless death), Vaghnar left the island and was not seen for weeks. Velarys did not blame him, she understood well what mourning was.

One morning when Velarys awoke she saw her dragon asleep on the shore. The princess walked up to the animal and caressed it gently, he looked peaceful. Vaghnar opened his eyes and looked at her, giving her permission to ride his back. Velarys accepted the dragon's terms, he had always been a free beast.

Aemond walked to the shore when dragon and rider landed, Velarys smiled at him and waved goodbye to Vaghnar as she did not know when she would see him again.

"Good morning" Velarys said when she was in front of her husband.

"Good morning, my love" Aemond replied, taking her by the waist and hugging her against his chest.

Aemond kissed her forehead and smell her perfume, enjoying her company.

They were embraced watching the sunrise, and both wanted to feel this peace for the rest of their lives because they had already suffered enough, the little paradise could guarantee them that and they were not thinking of giving it up never in a million years.

The end.

Taglist

@mynameisbaby9 @princessmiaelicia @sustisama @deeeeexx @zverea @daddysfavoritesexkitten @tempo-rary-fix @stargaryenx @filmelunar @yor72 @remuslupinwifee @fuckinglittlekitten @may-machin @kaitieskidmore1 @zillahvathek @marvelita85 @25falsafielisa @solacestyles @polireader @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @loomipee @leoramage @iiamthehybrid @darylandbethfanforever9 @bregarc @justpassinbxx @sandronebabyy @ms-dont-care @julianaaleticia @nctma15 @isaxbella749 @maviee @gimalo135 @fedeffy @ladywin17 @tivedetek4869

[bestworstcase]

Okay so, one thing I will say about the possibility of Summer willingly working for Salem: I hope they don't just do it to make Raven look like a better mother than she actually is.

I have long been of the opinion that Yang disowning Raven and cutting her out of her life entirely will be CRITICAL to her developing into a healthy adult. Ever since we learned about Raven, her arc has been building up to the realization and acceptance of the fact that Summer Rose was her real mother all along, and that she shouldn't waste her life chasing the toxic relationship Raven offered.

Point is, if Summer has thrown her lot in with Salem, it needs to have been out of love for her daughters, an impulsive and foolish decision made to keep her babies safe.

The best part of the juxtaposition of Summer and Raven is how it turns the age-old "wicked stepmother" trope on its head by having the stepmother be loving and kind while the biological mother is cold and heartless.

(That, and Raven's arc concluding with her realizing that she can't use her Semblance anymore because she burned all her bridges and nobody wants her in their lives anymore, and being forced to live with that knowledge, would be the perfect comeuppance for how willing she's been to sacrifice all her loved ones, up to and including her own daughter, just to save herself. Especially if she's given multiple chances to redeem herself and screws up every chance until everyone's just too sick of her nonsense to give her a twenty-third chance she doesn't deserve.)

hm

so

as far as yang’s relationship to raven goes, i don’t get the impression that rwby as a narrative has any interest in resuscitating raven’s motherhood—i mean, she flat out admits that she wasn’t kind to yang when they met and later whispers “i’m sorry” right before taking off again, lmfao. but equally i’m not sure i would agree that complete estrangement is really the healthiest goal for yang; it’s a pendulum swing to the opposite side of the spectrum from where she started and i think restricts her ability to meaningfully process the complicated feelings she has about her mother. there is a very wide band of grey area between emotional dependency on a bad or absent parent and full no-contact estrangement and—speaking here from the perspective of being inside that middle zone—i think partial estrangement is usually the better option, except when the parent is actively and viciously abusive to the point that no form of contact is safe.

with a parent like raven—who is absent and unreliable, not abusive—there can a lot of emotional value in just accepting the relationship as a distant one with minimal contact. and with yang being someone whose biggest emotional problem is bottling up things that hurt her, i think full estrangement stands to harm more than it helps because it puts a solid barrier in front of her feelings toward her mother. even if in practice she never sees raven, leaving herself the option to do so will make it easier to air those feelings out.

i also do not think that anything raven has done demands narrative retribution versus the compassionate framing given to, say, cinder fall or salem; she’s a bandit who abandoned her kid and her cause because ozpin molded her into his spy while she was a teenager or in her early twenties and then she couldn’t cope with the horrors she discovered or the personal threats salem is implied to have made to her. as reasons for being a deadbeat mom go that is a… fairly understandable one, and i do not think there is anything uniquely or egregiously more awful about walking out on your family than other kinds of wrongdoing—and certainly in terms of material harm it isn’t even close to the worse thing raven “some people?? pillage defenseless villages and leave the survivors to the grimm?? to cope??” branwen has ever done in her life.

anyway to the actual point:

summer rose working for salem stands to be compelling in a lot of ways, but the one that appeals most to me is a scenario where she didn’t choose it for her daughters. what have we been told about summer? she was the best of the best. the living ideal of what a huntress should be and an amazing mom—and then she took off without telling anybody where she was going to confront salem by herself, which, reading between the lines? summer rose got put on a pedestal and subjected to such intense pressure that she burned out and attempted suicide by pointless heroic sacrifice—either because she actively wanted to die or because she believed she had a responsibility to throw her life away for the cause.

and then salem offered her a way out.

now—from salem’s insistence that ruby be kept alive, and from her reaction to yang identifying herself as summer’s other daughter—i think it’s fairly clear that, whatever the exact circumstances are, there IS a standing agreement that salem will avoid harming them to the extent possible. but my personal hope is that the decision to join salem was one summer made for herself, to save herself from being the Sacrificial Hero, because she could not live like that any longer. this would be congruent with rwby’s thematic stance on heroic selflessness and self-sacrifice as a corruptive force and introduce layers of emotional messiness that appeal to me, in that summer can love her daughters with everything she has and yet leave them behind because she herself has been driven to an emotional brink where if she doesn’t escape by joining salem she is going to get herself killed on purpose, and the betrayal experienced by her now grown-up children when they learn this is mediated by their own experience of the same pressures that pushed her to that point (and presumably by the revelation of salem’s actual plan being less “nihilistically torch the world” and more “lure the gods back to defeat them once and for all so that this can finally end”).

insofar as there is a comparison to draw between raven’s abandonment and summer’s it’s one that removes summer from her supermom pedestal and renders her in a more flawed—and thus more human—light. not the good mom who died and the bad mom who left but two mothers who chose to leave their children for similar reasons and will likely differ in how they handle the inevitable reunion. (if “red like roses pt ii” is anything to judge by, summer is desperate to give her daughters the kind of explanation and closure yang wanted and didn’t get from raven, and has little if any desire to make excuses. that’s where the true difference lies.)

and i think rwby is doing something more interesting here than simply flipping the wicked stepmother trope upside-down. why is the stepmother wicked? why is the mother good? how do cultural narratives about motherhood create these categories? summer rose is the good stepmother, but she is also the absent mother; she left ruby around the same age that raven left yang, but yang’s memories of summer as her own mother and the presumption of summer’s death give ruby a fundamentally different experience of not having a mother. and likewise a significant amount of yang’s abandonment trauma has less to do with raven than it does her father’s secrecy and refusal to talk to her about it, which allowed the pain and confusion to fester. it’s all wrapped up in the storytelling themes and the reality is that mothers are just people who cannot be neatly reduced to fit inside fairytale archetypes.

[eyedthrice]

@starbrned 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗡 don't talk about me like you might know how i feel . (from arya 👀)

𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀. it is such a strong feeling , that it can shatter the cocoon the raven has immersed brandon stark inside of. cold , stoic , distant. he is no fool , he knows how his siblings see him. he is aware that he is completely opposite of what he once was : a boy so vivid and bright , who wore emotions on his sleeve and bounced around the castle with delight. yet , seldom are moments such as these , where bran stark emerges victorious and the raven must watch from the shadows of his mind. it won't last long , this control , but when it appears it is do to an over abundance of emotion over those he loves.

❝ i apologize if i am assuming , ❞ he begins , blue eyes watching her grey. he is ever the tully , she ever the stark. though they both are winter , northern and brazen. she is all wolf , and he all raven. equally imperative to the north. ❝ though , if i am to be honest with you , i find it quite difficult to understand what you have all felt or experienced since you left winterfell. ❞

his wheelchair sits opposite to her , his back facing his older sister. bran basks in the warmth of the fireplace before him , hands resting comfortably in his lap. the youngest living stark feels it now , the disconnection to reality. it was a nice little vacation from the cold void of the raven , but the master wants its throne back ( that throne being young brandon's mind ). if he wishes to speak truly , to allow whatever fragments of sentiment that remained to shine through , he must speak urgently and fast.

❝ i couldn't see you , or jon , or sansa. i didn't even know if you were alive. my visions , they told me all i needed to know. before i was fully what i am , i tried to connect with you all that way. i apologize if that had made me assumptive. ❞ he had checked them all , robb , mother , and rickon too. their stories had broken bran , destroyed the bits of humanity that remained. in some regards , this new reality , new lack of feeling , was better. he didn't need to feel the devastation of all the loss.

❝ i know not how you feel , arya. perhaps i just felt as if i have lived your journey. ❞ and soon enough , the wingspan of the raven has suffocated him once more. the few sparks of emotion have left bran's eyes , and he returns to his stoic demeanor. ❝ you are here today , for this is your part to play in the long night. everything has brought you to this moment. ❞

[fatedefyd]

   @stxnekxng​​ foretold :  

The very air crackles with an energy most never experienced, even as segments of the rocks roll across the trembling earth, the very nature seems to want to flee from the pressure slowly weighing down. Then all but one trees explode, splinters flying everywhere but avoiding the princess and her son. In a specific pattern forming like an outline of the surrounding area as the trees snap, bending downwards as the echoing boom echoes through the sky. The speed of sound being broken and only just not catching up. The unmistakable rush of heat washing over the lady. 

A staff slams into the ground inches from her injured frame, a tail gently wrapping around one of her bloodied hands, the long limb alone is strong enough to help the woman at least sit up, the iconic outfit of blue, red and gold blown harshly by the wind, missing the top. Clearly having arrived in a hurry if he'd forgone wearing the armor. The edges of the earth cracking as be slowly tilts the end of the staff up at the demon. Scarlet gold eyes snapping back over his shoulder to gaze to the wounded mother, her son not far. A familiar cloud currently had the boy rested upon it, unconscious but alive. The same could not be said for the fool in front of the woman and the golden simian having placed his smaller stature between her and the enemy. Even as his piercing gaze lands on her, his gaze softens as the tail pulls away. Slowly grapping the ends of his cape before turning to her, placing it over her as he speaks. 

"Concern yourself no longer with the rat. I will deal with it." Even as the demon (what an ill advised moron) points at the simian, laughing about his smaller size and half dressed state. Insults thrown out that it wouldn't take any enhanced hearing for Iron Fan to hear the gritting of teeth behind closed lips. The winds scream as they part in an instance and blood splatters everywhere. Having been in front of her one second, on the opposite side of the demon the next. The lower jaw of the demon slowly being crushed in a blood soaked claw, the demon turns, about to try and stab the immortal. Who simply watches the metal scrape against his chest, a very thin line of blood slowly being drawn before his foot kicks at their knee, a horrid crack as they go down shrieking ( more so gurgling on their own blood ). Raising his foot before stomping down on their throat, the body spasms before another crunch of bones rings out and the demon gives one last gurgle as his body writhes in the echoes of life before fading from this plane of existence. 

A single huff of an ember from his jaws, the corpse ignites. Slowly moving away from it and heading back to the woman. His clean claw gently extending to her. "Let's get you home."

         It was a simple trek to the neighboring town  --  the very same one that Iron Fan had held such an odd bond to since her rebellion against the heavens.  She had gone to drop off warming statues for the oncoming winter, with the aid of her son during one of his occasional visits.  Once the task had been complete, the mother had decided to walk the rest of the way home ; to enjoy the changing scenery, greens turning to vibrant yellows and oranges. 

         ... And then they were ambushed.  Not surprising, though mildly unpredicted given the time of the year.  Red Son had been quickly incapacitated through a pinpoint blow on his neck, and Iron Fan barely had any time to register the rodent-like demon’s tail whipping at her, lashing and succeeding in wounding one of her eyes.  The confrontation, however, was over as quickly as it had started. 

         Through her unharmed eye, raven-haired mother takes note of the trembling terrain  --  she barely had enough time to shield herself, though it seemed it didn’t matter in the end.  The princess shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was to see the monkey king make an appearance, but... then she’s covered with his tattered, worn cape, and she watches on as the adversary’s blood is swiftly painting the ground like a overblown balloon.  Iron Fan had never had the opportunity to see the simian slay another before her eyes  --  and she is grateful that her son had been spared the shocking fashion that the golden monkey uses in his tactics.  In the conflict she looks for her son, and is given a sliver of relief when she finds him floating safely on a cloud not too far off.

         Scarlet eyes dart back as a deafening cracking echoes through the worn-in path, her kneeling form freezing as Wukong makes swift work of the enemy while in his rage.  As the faint scent of burning flesh begins to rise, she almost doesn’t register the hand he offers her.  Lashes flutter, bewildered as they trail up his half-dressed form.  There is no hesitance or fear in her gaze, just.. astonishment. 

         After what felt like eternity, one of her finely-clawed hands finally reaches for his own, the other holding on to the cape that he had offered her moments earlier.  Even when she rises, matron keeps his hand held in hers  --  as if he would leave just as quickly as he had arrived, and as a physical reminder of the life-ending conflict.  Tense form slacks after a minute of pondering, nodding in agreement with his earlier statement. 

   ❝ when we get there, you’re taking a bath. ❞  She says, making an attempt to distract her thoughts with lighter humor to contrast the morbidity of the event.  ❝ i don’t want blood on my brand-new carpeting. ❞

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

What happens in the cave, stays in the cave | Jon Snow x Jeor Mormont daughter!Reader

Summary: You and Jon spend the night in a cave

Word count: 1.9k (it was originally a blurb, I guess I got a little carried away...)

Warnings: light smut

Request: Can you do Jon looking for the Lord Commander of the Night’s watch’s daughter after she gets taken by the wildlings. When he finds her, he help her escape and they hide in a cavern, the same cavern Ygritte and Jon went to in the show  

A/N: I don’t know if this will be geographically correct, but let’s pretend. 

-

While Beyond the Wall in search of the missing Benjen Stark with the other Crows, you had managed to stray away from the group and get taken by a group of Free Folk.

Your father, Lord Commander of the Night Jeor Mormont, was furious and immediately accused an old ‘friend’ – also called the King-Beyond-the-Wall – to be behind this. It was wrong of him to be making blind accusations, but it was his precious daughter that had been taken and, it turned out he hadn’t been completely wrong.

The men who had taken you hadn’t known your identity, they just wanted you for some…personal fun. It’s only when they brought you to their King that Mance Rayder recognized your mother’s eyes and decided to keep you hostage. The man has had a bone to pick with your father since his days among the Night's Watch – an old conflict between the two men.

The moment your disparition had been confirmed, Jon didn’t think twice and offered to go search for you. Although nothing was his fault, a part of him felt guilty. He should have kept a better eye on you. Jeor had been hesitant to send him, not particularly trusting of Jon or his intentions, but he wasn’t blind and knew the young Crow would be the only one who would protect you and your life before his.

It took Jon three days to find the Free Folk’s campment – to get to you. After evaluating his options, Jon infiltrated the Free Folk, telling them he had deserted the Night’s Watch to become part of the Free Folk. His plan would have worked if Mance Rayder hadn’t recognized him as Ned Stark’s bastard son, which got him captured too.

‘’You’re an idiot, Jon Snow,’’ you had told him when he got thrown in the tent with you, tied up. ‘’I’m flattered that you came to rescue me, but now we’re both gonna get killed.’’

You didn’t get killed. Mance had other plans for you. You’ll be heading to the wall via south along with the wildlings and serve of money of exchange when they invade the north. According to Mance, the Lord Commander won't care much about Jon Snow, but when he will see his daughter tied and with a blade pressed against her neck, he'll let them pass.

Mance's plan wasn't foolproof though. While they were on the move toward the south, you and Jon managed to free yourself and get away.

You and Jon had been on the run for hours, running through the snow-y mountains in the opposite direction of the Free Folk, and your legs were aching from all the running, threatening to give out.

And they did, as you tripped on a rock and fell on the snow covered ground. You cursed and tried to get up, but your body was exhausted.

‘’Jon!’’ you called, panting from running, feeling your heart hammering under your thick layers of wool, leather and fur.

Before you, the raven haired man stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder to see you on the ground. ‘’You alright?‘’

You nodded. You weren't injured, just tired. ‘’I need a break. My- my legs can’t carry me any farther.’’

There was no way you'll be making it to Castle Black before night. Castle Black was hundreds of miles away. It's impossible to make that distance by foot before nightfall.

Jon looked around and nodded. ‘’Okay. We’ll take a break.’’

You didn't stay put for long. The area was safe for a short break, but not for a full night. You needed to find a place to hide away. A nook between trees or–

‘’Y/N! Where are you going,’’ Jon hissed, going after you like one would follow a running child. ‘’Seven Hells…’’

In the distance, you had spotted an opening in a mountain – a cave. It would be perfect to shield yourself from the wind and biting cold. Perhaps you could even make a fire.

Within the cave, Jon kept calling your name as you followed along its jagged walls. You ignored him and kept going, suddenly feeling a strange warmth the farther you went in. A frown creased between your eyebrows. You were in the coldest part of the north beyond-the-wall, warm air was impossible.

Your feet came to a halt and a grin curled on your mouth when you found a waterfall cascading down into a hot spring, explaining the warm air. You had never been to a hot spring, but you had heard of them. According to the men who had traveled beyond-the-wall, they were very rare and the only sources of warmth in the north.

‘’Jon! Come and see.’’

‘’No more running like that. I promised your father I would– What’s this?’’ he asked, looking around with a deep frown.

‘’A hot spring,’’ you explained. ‘’We’ll stay here tonight.’’

It’s been months since Jon had spent a night without wishing for an extra layer of fur to cover himself. Even in Winterfell, some nights were so cold that the warm water running through the pipes wasn't enough to keep the chambers warm. On those nights, Jon was thankful for a fireplace in his small bedchamber. He’s been missing the luxury of it on cold nights in the Night’s Watch’s bedchambers.

Eyeing the hot spring with envy, you reached for the buttons of your coat, undoing them and letting it fall off your body and to the ground, then proceeded to take off your boots, only to be stopped by Jon.

‘’What are you doing?’’ He gulped, getting more uncomfortable at each layer you were peeling off.

You rolled your eyes and continued undressing. ‘’Bathing. This is probably the only time I’ll see a hot spring. I intend of using it.’’ Slowly, you unlaced your pants, pausing before pulling them off. ‘’And you should too,’’ you added with a flirty smile.

When your pants hit the ground, Jon tore his eyes off of you. He wanted to see – he was dying to see what you looked like under your clothes –, but he had to resist the temptation or he would get as hard as the rock around you and break his vows.

‘’I-I’m good,’’ he replied, trying to find interest in the jagged rock walls.

You took off your last clothing item, standing naked while Jon still had all of his layers on. A snicker left your lips, seeing him purposely staring at a wall. ‘’Do I make you uncomfortable, Jon Snow?’’ you taunted, stepping closer to him.

Since his arrival at Black Castle, you suspected him of having an eye on you – like most men who were residing there. That’s what happens when you’re the only woman on land. Jon was different. He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat to empty his stones to. He wasn’t gross like them. He was kind and humble, honorable and loyal, charismatic – and he genuinely cared about you.

You weren’t indifferent to his dark curls and gray eyes, or that soft smile he kept just for you either.

‘’It’s polite of you to look away, but I would much rather you had your eyes on me. Perhaps not just your eyes.’’

Jon groaned, your suggestive words putting images in his mind and sending unwanted blood rushing south. ‘’Seven Hells…’’

You moved to stand before him and pressed your hands over the fur of his cloak, gliding them down to the leather that covered his chest. ‘’I want you, Jon Snow.’’ Your eyes flicked to his, the desire in his gray irises mirroring yours.

‘’We shouldn’t.’’ His skin was starting to feel clammy, plausibly from the heat coming from the spring. Was it really the spring, though? ‘’I've pledged my life to the Night's Watch, to your father. If I give in to my oath-’’

As much as you loved him for his loyalty, it was getting in the way of your sexual desires and starting to get on your nerves.

‘’You vowed to take no wife, hold no lands, father no children – I know the Night’s Watch’s oath,’’ you said with a little annoyance in your voice. ‘’It doesn’t say anything about having some fun.’’ You inched a little closer again, kissing his cheek and jaw as your bare body brushed his clothed one, trying to make him give in. ‘’If it makes you feel better, you can tell yourself we’re doing it to keep each other warm.’’

His forehead was prickling with sweat and the tent in his pants was getting difficult to conceal, difficult to fight.

‘’I can’t take what’s not mine.’’

‘’Then make me yours,’’ you replied simply, taking a fist of his fur collar and pulling him down so your lips could brush. ‘’Make me yours, Jon Snow.’’

Jon gave in – finally –, bending the rules and crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. He was putting so much in jeopardy – his honor and position in the Night’s Watch, your future by taking your maidenhood, his Lord Commander’s trust –, but the guilt was quickly replaced by fire in his blood.

His hands joined yours, unbuckling and untying, pulling and pushing at his clothes until he was completely naked too.

Women had never been a major interest for him. Back in Winterfell, although he was a Stark by blood, people saw him as a bastard above all and, no women wanted to fuck a bastard. They wanted Robb, who was, by name, more reputable, or even Theon Greyjoy.

You were the first woman who didn't care about his name, the first woman who ever wanted him.

Without breaking the kiss, you explored Jon's body, pleasantly surprised to find a decently muscled body and broad shoulders, all acquired through training and sword fighting. You wanted to kiss him all over, touch him all over, but the hard and uneven rock was starting to hurt your feet.

‘’Shall we get in the water?’’

As expected, the water was warm and agreeable, a contrast to the biting cold you’ve been living in all of your life. You let the water submerge your body up to your shoulders, covering you like a blanket. Only, that one was completely transparent.

You reached for Jon, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again, deepening the kiss as you felt his strong arms circle around your back and pulling you against him, your naked breasts and peaked nipples pressing against his chest. The mix of inexperience and touch deprivation elicited a moan from his mouth and made his cock twitch, feeling a woman's body against his for the first time.

You chuckled, but didn't pull away. Instead, you rolled your hips, feeling his erect cock brush your folds, and he moaned again. ‘’You like what I’m doing, Jon Snow?’’ you murmured, twirling a wet curl around your finger.

In response, he grasped onto your hips with a vice-like grip and grinded his erection the same way you had teased him, his cock almost entering, but not quite. You whimpered softly, pulling on his hair as your eyelids fluttered. Fuck. He needed to be inside you – now.

‘’Two can play this game,’’ Jon teased, the waterfall behind you falling as a white noise, giving a romantic ambiance to the underground hideaway.

‘’Haven’t we played enough already?’’ you asked, looking into his gray eyes and running your hands along the muscles of his arms, moving onto his chest and abdomen next, and then back up his chest and shoulders. Using his shoulders as leverage, you curled your legs around his waist, causing the water to swish from the movements. ‘’I want to get to the finish line.’’

-

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[cosmiclove-heavenstruck]

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.             

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.     

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –” 

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

[emmy-renee]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬' 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑩𝒖𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒓 † 𝑲𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒋𝒊

♚-𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ♝-𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ✯-𝑺𝑭𝑾

↠ 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

↠ To say you were excited upon hearing about the arrival of your new sibling would be a massive understatement. Your mother held your small hands in anticipation for the reaction you were going to give at any possible moment. Not too long after having the message replay in your mind over and over again, a giant smile formed on your face. Squeals had filled the entire room as little you had jumped up and down with pigtails bouncing along. "Really?!" As the little demon continued her small celebration, the two adults shared a thankful look before sighing a breathe of relief.

↠ During the pregnancy of her mother, (Y/N) helped out any way she could. As (Y/N)'s father went out and about to find a decent human soul for his darling wife, the young one was the one to do the house chores; cleaning the house, watering the plants, and making sure that her mother was comfortable at all times. Catering her needs, fluffing her pillows.

↠ You were very strict during this time, too.

↠"(Y/N) dear, I really do think I should at least take a walk aroun-" "NO!"

↠ Once he came along, you just stared at him in awe once he was born. Of course fat tears rolled down your cheeks the second your father had handed the infant demon to you. You promised to always be there for him that day.

↠ Crow was your nickname for him.

↠ You insisted on being there for his first everything

↠ It were those moments you cried harder than your mother

↠ Someone was being a prick to your dear brother? You were there in a flash. Someone thought they could beat him in a fight? You were there to hear the stories. From then, you taught him not to take crap from other demons. You two were extremely close to say the least. He looked up to you and like a good sister, you made sure to set a good example.

↠ Troublemakers. Partners in crime. Comrades. That's how beings would describe the two of you. Some would laugh at memories when they encountered the both of you, while others would shake their heads in dismay and irritation. But it wasn't like either of you cared about what they thought.

↠ Sneaking cats of different breeds and ages was a constant game you two played in the early mornings or late nights getting you both caught red-handed on the sixth or seventh time

↠ Complete opposites if I may add. You were outgoing, bubbly, and optimistic. Brother dearest was well reserved, cocky, and prideful.

He was a definite Momma's Boy

↠ Sparring, play fighting, and silly little arguments were much too common not that either of you had to complain. You two made it an unspoken rule to only keep these 'interactions' to yourselves. So when your mother would fuss when you came back home with cuts or bruises, you would respond "I tripped and fell" or "I didn't look where I was going". Then of course Crow would walk in giving you one of his famous cocky ass smirks to which you would return with a glare.

↠ Fast forward when you were in your early four hundreds. You wanted to travel on Earth to different countries and cities. Of course the second you told your brother about this, he replied "(Y/N) why do you bother to travel among those petty humans?" sigh "You wouldn't understand."

↠ You thought it was out of character for him when he ran to you on the day of your departure. You were shocked, but a small smile came across your features when you wrapped your arms around him in a bone crushing hug.

"Wow, is the infamously conceited Crow crying?" "Your just in a state of denial, (Y/N)."

↠Letters were sent on a daily basis by ravens. You wrote to him about the things you learned, the sights you've seen, the people you met. Some of those letters included your recent knowledge about the humans you lived among, affairs and scandals you were involved in, and the number of times you had faked your death so townspeople wouldn't suspect what was truly going on with you.

↠ A few more centuries had passed since you had last spoke with your little brother. It wasn't until one sunny day on your trip to Belgium a raven appeared flying swiftly through the air your eyes went wide with shock.

↠ Once the envelope was in your hands, there was no hesitation when ripping it open. You recognized the neat handwriting immediately and started scanning the page for any possible answers to why he hadn't responded the the thousands of letters you sent. Instead, you found something else.

↠ You learned that he had made a contract with a young boy and now went by the name 'Sebastian Michaelis'. He had written about his current profession of being the butler to the bratty young earl, how the job would be worth it for his soul. Sebastian made sure to include his fellow coworkers and demanded how you got along with the pest of humans who 'seemed to never do anything right.' The only one he did seem to tolerate that was mentioned in the letter was the former head butler of the Phantomhive Manor, Tanaka.

↠ It certainly had been quite a long time since the siblings had seen each other in the flesh and since you happened to be close by- Why not take a detour and pay your little brother a visit?

↠ Not too long after running from country to country with bags in hand, she had finally found herself in the London capital. Carriages and people filled up the stony sidewalks and streets, children were running around, and to (Y/N) it seemed like a nice environment overall.

↠ After asking a few people for directions, you soon found yourself standing in the front gates of the Phantomhive Manor. You had checked your human appearance before in the window of a shoppe back at the capital, yet you were unsure if he would recognize you. Either way, every demon had their own scent and aura to be told apart from other demons so maybe there was a slight chance he would know?

↠ (Y/N) was still thinking over the options leaving and coming back to visit another time, or turning into her demon form until the demoness realized she was being tackled to the ground be another being.

↠ A small 'oof' escaped her lips once her back had made a harsh impact to the ground. Her arms had been pinned to her sides as she struggled to move. "What are your intentions with the young earl?" is what the voice above you asked. Once she actually took the time to look above, her face was filled with both shock and irritation. "Sebastian?!"

↠ Once he heard your voice his own face was filled with shock as his arms let go of your arms. "(Y/N)?"

↠ You were happy to see your little Crow, but now was not the time for smiles. Your face twisted into a pissed off expression and you threw one of your bags in his pale face with such force. "You bastard! I come over for a surprise visit after centuries and this is how I'm greeted?!" He really didn't know what to say as he stood up. "I certainly apologize about my behavior, dear sister. It's just that you-" he cut off looking you up and down with your arms crossed and glaring look "It's been a while." He did show a little bit empathy. "I know you want to forgive me." he said with a smirk. "Cocky bastard, get over here!" you shouted with open arms. He gladly excepted the invitation and you two there in each other's embrace.

Sebastian literally had to tell you to put him down once you starting picking him up from the ground

↠ Once that was done and hellos were exchanged, he offered you to come to the manor which you happily excepted. As you two made the way to the front doors of the Phantomhive manor, Sebastian asked about your travels, how many different humans you've met, any souls you've eaten which you gladly answered.

↠ You noticed a young boy with an eye patch and blue hair with an impassive look on his face. "I'm taking this is the one you work for?" you asked with a raised brow. "Ah yes. Hello young Master." he greeted. "I thought you said you worked for an earl, not a pirate." you whispered to your brother's ear as he let out a snicker. Ciel just gave you a glare. "Sebastian who is this?" he demanded. You gave him a sweet smile as you gave a dramatic bow, making your brother give you an eye roll. "Pleasure to meet you Earl Phantomhive. My name is (Y/N)." you said with a smooth voice. "I do apologize on behalf of my sister. Seems she has taken the time for a family visit. I do hope that is alright." Ciel just gave you a look as your rose to stand up straight again. "I suppose she may stay as long as she causes no trouble."

↠ Honestly Ciel was amazed by the fact you were the complete opposite of Sebastian. He along with the servants did actually mistook you for being the younger one only to dismiss it when the two of you broke out in laughter. Surprisingly Ciel took a liking to you and offered you a job at the manor which you gladly excepted.

↠ Sebastian won't admit it, but he likes the time he gets to spend with you. From meeting each other in the kitchen as the sun rises, exchanging greetings when one of you is to bring tea to the young master, or whenever another servant makes a giant mess. You come in handy once those morons think they can lay a finger on the young earl, and not to mention the fun of having your brother fighting by your side brings a smile you your face.

Not to mention the look he gives you when Ciel compliments your tea instead of his is absolutely priceless

↠ Remember the little cat thing you two did growing up? Yeah that certainly is something that picked up once you started working there.

↠ As one of your big sister duties, its your job to take care of your little brother. And that includes finding the perfect someone for your sibling. Eventually you did find out about the nun and circus performer, in short telling him "I do hope you realize that one day you just might have to take up the parenting role, Sebby." The demoness does in fact think that it's quite the sight to see other women being flat out rejected as the two of you are out for errands. If she does however, spot a lady wanting Sebastian for other intentions, (Y/N) just hogs up her brother's attention with the most ludicrous questions. You just want the best for your brother, and he does too. Surprisingly he gets extremely protective of you if you're within a five mile radius of any man who wants to court you.

↠ Especially if Finny or Bard start falling for you

↠ If it was Bard, Sebastian probably found out when his sister and co-worker were cooking. A nice spring day as birds chirped and the sky was bright without a cloud in sight. You had decided to make pancakes for everyone including Pluto, and made the batter into many different shapes to shake things up a bit. Sebastian had just finished preparing Ciel's breakfast as he walked past by Bard and (Y/N) when he unintentionally read the low-quality chef's mind.

"God she looks so cute."

The butler whipped back his head to see Baldroy with a light pink dust on his cheeks as he watched you flip the pancakes with such adoration. It wasn't until he felt the burning sensation of staring the chef turned his head and assumed he was staring into the face of death. He just quickly cleared his throat and began to work on something else as the butler smirked and walked out of the room with his head held high. (Y/N) just thought Bard had done something embarrassing.

↠ It was a particularly warm spring day as the roses blossomed and birds flew in the air. You and Finny had been pulling the weeds starting to grow and were having a fun time doing so. You both had gotten dirt on your faces and clothes, the tattered gloves had been thrown to the side and (Y/N) cracked a few jokes as he responded with the cutest laughs. Sebastian had walked by to ask if you wanted to join him and the Young Master in a recent case when he walked in on the scene.

"She's so beautiful."

Sebastian immediately told him to go water the roses farthest from his sister and Finny quickly nodded his head. You gave that damn butler a look to which he just nonchalantly shrugged.

↠ Your abundantly wrong if you think he wouldn't pull 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅

"(N/N) remember you said we could go pick up the Young Master's tea together?"

"Apologies Baldroy, (Y/N) gave me her would she would accompany me dusting the shelves."

"Finny what have I told you about interrupting a conversation between me and my dear sister?"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

©𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐲.𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫.𝐜𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[josswesterling]

Joss smiled widely, already finding that he enjoyed the prince’s bright nature.  In his life, he had often found other boys had a tendency to be cruel when they found Joss to be softer than usual, but he could sense no derision or sense of disdain on Joffrey’s face or in his voice.  It was refreshing, if he was honest.  “I know quite a few stories.  If you ever want me to tell them to you so you can pass them onto your siblings, just let me know.”  Joss was a better painter than he was a storyteller, but his younger sister Jynessa had a way with words and she had taught him some tricks.  He also had a variety of stories for every occasion, tales of love, loss, revenge, and legends about far away lands.  He was sure he could think of a tale that would satisfy all of Joffrey’s younger siblings even if he had to come up with an individual one for each of them to enjoy.  

Joss was not surprised to learn that the prince was good at swordplay and horseback riding.  Those were the type of occupations he would expect a prince to have been taught in.  “We are opposites in that regard then.  I’m dreadful at swordplay and archery. I’ve never had much success with weapons. I almost shot my father with an arrow once.”  The idea of hurting another human being scared him and even holding a sword made him anxious, but he didn’t want to bring that up to the prince.  He doubted he would understand.  “I do like horseback riding though.  I have a lovely horse named Desert Snow who I always ride whenever I can.”  He had already received many compliments and questions about her.  Many people in Westeros had never seen one of Dorne’s sand steeds before and Joss always enjoyed talking about them and how they compared to the horses bred in Westeros.  

“I have two younger sisters named Jynessa and Rosamund, but they’re both still at The Crag with my mother.  Rosamund came down with an illness and they decided to stay behind to take care of her.  Don’t worry, she’s completely fine now.  I received a raven halfway on my journey here to tell me she had completely recovered and was sad to have missed a chance to travel to King’s Landing.  They might come later to visit, depending on what my grandfather desires.”  Joss found his grandfather difficult to understand and he was certain that feeling went both ways.  Still, he’d always been distantly supportive and often let his family do what they wished within reason without much oversight. If Ellyra decided she wanted to take her younger children to the capitol, he was sure his grandfather would agree to the idea.

Joss was about to ask about Joffrey’s siblings in return when he heard the distant chiming of a clock inside the castle.  “Oh, I’m so sorry I must have lost track of time.  I’m supposed to meet with my cousin in about five minutes and I’m still covered in paint.  It was lovely to meet you though!”  Joss smiled and reached out to shake Joffrey’s hand, hoping he didn’t smear paint onto the prince’s skin.  “I hope we can speak again soon.  I’ve quite enjoyed your company.”

The Prince and The Painter

A part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

( Starter with @josswesterling )

Taking a stroll had not been on Joffreys well constructed agenda for the day, yet here he was, walking through the gardens, all by himself. His motivation for doing so was to find his step-sister, Rhaena, yet she seemed nowhere to be found. He had checked in her chambers, around the Tower of the Hand, and now he decided the gardens were his next best bet.

It wasn't like the Prince to simply take a walk, especially if not in the company of another. He felt extremely out of place as he searched the vast array of flowers and plants for his seemingly lost best friend.

"It seems I have no luck today." He said out loud to himself. He was getting frustrated, feeling as if he had been searching for a long time, but to no avail. He already had what he deemed a stressful morning. That included training with his step-father, making sure his young siblings were in order, and choosing an appropriate outfit for the day without Rhaena or his mother to help him. His hair was not even braided or styled properly, and that bothered him more than others might say needed.

He felt his unwanted garden stroll was almost at an end when he heard a noise. More noises came into hearing as he walked more. It sounded like someone moving, and possibly brushing something? The sounds came from a bit further than where he currently was, so he kept moving forward to investigate.

Joffrey peeked around a corner and finally saw who was creating the noise. It wasn't Rhaena, who he had hoped it was, but a boy. A boy who looked to be around his age, dressed like a highborn. He looked familiar, Joffrey thought. Like someone he had possibly met before.

The mystery boy was painting. It was a beautiful painting, unlike anything Joffrey had ever seen, full of color and life. He seemed to have been working on it for a while before the Prince had discovered him. The boy continued to stroke his brush against the material, not realizing he was being watched.

He was facing away from Joffrey, so he could not get a full view of his attire. The Prince thought maybe he would have his house banner on his clothes, but he could not see. Who have I met recently that paints... that is close to my age... a highborn... he wondered.

Oh, Joffrey Thought. It is not proper to stare, I'm being horribly rude. He then made his way over to the unknown person, hoping to make a new friend today. His goal of finding his step-sister long forgotten.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you as you work on that, but I just want to say it is wonderful. I'm Prince Joffrey Velaryon! And you..." he studied the other boys face, and suddenly he realized who he was talking to.

"Oh, you're Joss Westerling! I remember you. We have met each other, briefly albeit, but we have met. It is good to see you. I would love to spend some proper time with you, if you would be interested. We're of a similar age, we must have some common interests! Tell me more about your painting, it has entranced me." The words seemed to pour out, and Joffrey was overly excited at the prospect of this new companion.