#prompt: essay or short story

[sparklegirl-3000]

Dystopian fiction stuff just for funsies

The Surface. A place once filled with life, water and all the right temperatures.

Until the Disaster struck.

Within seconds, all life on the Surface was totally wiped out. Except for one little Group, safely hiding Underground. This Group expanded and formed an entire Colony under the Surface. Now, it's our home. Where everything is powered by the Core. Our "sun", if you will. Everything is safe, warm and protected against whatever ghastly threats lie on the Surface.

They give us Tagged bracelets as children to keep an eye on us so we don't go too near to the Surface--or anywhere dangerous, for that matter--and at the age of twenty, the Tag is replaced with a Chip for our identification, and you are officially considered fully Integrated into the Colony.

At the age of twenty, during said Integration, everyone is sorted into specific Categories with respective Roles to serve the Colony. The Category you get sorted into becomes your second name; a Surname. Your Category basically becomes your "family", in pre-Disaster speak. All these Roles go into upkeeping the Colony, and ultimately the Core; and, in the unlikely worst-case-scenario, prevent the Core from burning out. Or even exploding. Which will never happen, by the way, so don't you dare dwell on that definitely-never-gonna-happen scenario. Ever.

Every Batch of babies is genetically engineered to have the most optimal thriving traits, before they are all Inducted into the Colony. And no, they don't live inside women's bellies, or whatever they did back in the pre-Disaster days. The Genes that go into producing each baby are arranged and re-ordered ever so meticulously, as to ensure the best results for a healthy baby.

The Induction is basically a welcoming ceremony for these babies. It is where the babies--1,000,000 per Batch--are "born", so to speak in pre-Disaster vocabulary, as well as given a Name from the Naming Cycle. Every Century, the Naming Cycle undergoes a Rotation. So every individual has a Namesake from every previous Century. A Newborn baby is Inducted; 20 years later, they get Integrated.

My name is Cordelia, and soon, I will be fully Integrated, with my very own Role in the Colony.

[izzibeeb]

as I get nearer and nearer to senior year I start to wonder. is anyone ever going to explain to me what a college essay is or are we just supposed to figure that out by ourselves

[dullahandyke]

meant to be studying but instead im just reading the short story prompts for engluish paper 1 composition question and imagining what id write for each of them

[raven-eats-desks]

Oh boy, NPC backstory time. From the pov of the Hero unfortunately, but man this one inspired me. Ended up being quite long (approx. 600 words) so just going to put a cut here, but

[Arteki] was raised in a religious community, which believed in Order over everything. Those with magic were considered as divine as they were dangerous. To [Arteki]'s benefit, her magic was divine, and her community proclaimed her a hero, both for her talents, and for her constraint.

From a young age, they trained her to become a leader, an elder, and a soldier. She was their godly tool to eliminate all Chaos. The spear they wielded against the darkness opposing them.

Never did she think to question their demands. Why would she? After all, their ideology placed her as perfect- ideal.

So she never questioned her status.

Until one night, when she came of a new age, and was shown how their dangerous members were treated. A blind child, deemed cursed from birth, shaking, only faintly aware of the monsters called forth to its voice- clearly an agent of Chaos. Yet it was not put out of its misery, not cleanly destroyed the way that [Arteki] was taught to treat deviants.

Instead, [Arteki] was encouraged to partake in the abuse of the child, who was held, unable to fight back; the monsters [Arteki] feared shrinking away from the people who had raised her as their agent. The child was blind, but [Arteki] couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Night after night, she tossed and turned; no poultice could break her fever, no cloth could cure her shaking, as she stared into darkness, and felt eyes looking back.

At last she resolved- sleep deprived, riddled with racing thoughts- to be rid of that feeling, once and for all. Using her magic to ensure a clear route, she wandered through the winding cells, clutching her weapons and heart close to her chest. At last, she saw the child.

Restrained, and resting, curled up like a sick animal. Without riddance, the disease would spread further, like it already had to her mind. Slipping between bars, [Arteki] raised her knife.

"Hello?" the child spoke, voice scuffed and frightened. [Arteki] froze. The child twitched, shivered, and rolled over, arm reaching weakly into the dark.

"Muma?" the child spoke, fist closing around empty air, eyes closed. Was it was awake or dreaming? "What's wrong muma?"

The one sided conversation hung in the air. But the words didn't matter. Even if the child was awake it would die the same death.

Still, hesitation. [Arteki] took the child's half shut hand. With a rush, she was surrounded by darkness, more pitch than the depths of the ocean. She should have felt fear, for she was drowning, as the cowering monsters swarmed her and the child.

But for once, [Arteki] could look into the darkness, and see its empty eyes, blinking at her.

I know you it said. Are you friend, or foe?

"I'm not sure," she said, and the child's hand tightened around hers.

You are the hero, aren't you? We saw you... before. The darkness seemed to think. Will you hurt her? it asked.

"Her?" [Arteki] turned, and the darkness parted around the child. A girl. With dark, curling hair, and pimpled cheeks, still full with baby fat. She could not have been older than [Arteki] when she was first chosen.

And yet their fates were so cruelly opposed.

"Not tonight."

The darkness smiled. Then sleep, hero.

And she did. For the first night in an age, she slept without fear, without duty. Tomorrow, she would flee, with the girl in her arms, her spear cutting those who'd taught her to wield it; her darts poisoning those who'd made them. But tonight, she slept, with the girl in her arms, and the monsters protecting them both.

The Divine blessing of “Hero” granted by the gods is one of the worst kinds of mind control, slowly destroying the personality of the blessed individual. You are the only one who is able to look at the “Hero” and see them as a person rather than a living weapon and offer them comfort.

[zeemelo]

Your Environment (Library)

The library was shelter for more than the overcast weather that promised rain.

In it, hundreds of small journeys were happening all at once. A tired college student tapped his laptop keys aggressively, pausing only to fidget with his sweater. An older lady calmly flipped through pages of a yellowed book, with gestures that indicated great familiarity. A mother herded her two children, who were too excited to follow the norms of silence, but nobody minded.

And in front of me, sat a young woman, with curly hair and an artistic demeanor. She concentrated heavily on something I could not see, gripping a pen with spidery hands, jotting notes with surprisingly bubbly handwriting.

A librarian passed by me, locking eyes. I smiled at her, taking strange pleasure in knowing she knows this place better than I do. As I glanced curiously at every shelf and every faded chalk sign, her body seemed to walk faster than her mind, hands working efficiently through the broad corridors, seemingly invisible to other passerby. In her element, I thought, wondering what she looked like in different environments, thinking if I managed to look that capable anywhere.

As the rain started to fall, pitter-pattering the large glass windows, I settled in, ready to forget time for a while.

In this shelter for more than just the weather, there are hundreds of small journeys happening all at once— and thousands of worlds to visit in between pages.

[aintnobodylikemydesigurl]

I'm doing this thing where I write and post short stories at least twice a month to improve my writing. Drop prompts please

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr. Gaiman

Recently, I started teaching English as a second language to the STEM students at the university. Students are perfect in every way possible; however, there is always a catch. They hate writing essays, short stories—you name it. Their main argument is that AI has made writing an outdated skill and that they are wasting time learning it. They easily create full essays based on prompts I give them, just to prove their point. Even some of my fellow teachers started thinking in a similar vein, which saddens and frustrates me to no end.

I feel like there is no better person to ask about the value of writing. Also,  I remember a few years ago how writing to you really helped me. So my question is, what words of encouragement would you offer my students (and maybe my colleagues) so they would at least give it a go and not discard it as useless?

 

Thank you! 

If they can't be bothered to write it, why should you be bothered to read it or grade it?

And if they take those skills (or lack of them) out into the world, the results can be disastrous for them...

https://wapo.st/3sWCrQg

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Tips: Prose

If you want to improve the quality of your writing, the best place to start is with the fundamentals. These valuable tips can help you learn how to write better and elevate your creative output.

Tips for Writing Engaging Prose

Use these writing tricks and tips to elevate your prose:

Don’t worry about your first draft. A lot of writers fall victim to writer’s block at the very beginning of a project. It can be hard to start writing when you’re staring at a blank page, not sure exactly where a piece will end up. At this early stage, it’s best to put aside perfectionism and just get your story idea down on paper. Start out by freewriting with a writing prompt or by building an outline. This can help you gain the confidence you need to complete a draft.

Cut the fluff. Editing can transform good writing into great writing. When editing, look for scenes that don’t advance the plot, overly long descriptions, and anything that won’t sustain a reader’s attention. Whether you’re working on short stories, business writing, content marketing, or nonfiction essays, try to match the word count of similar published pieces.

Rewrite, then rewrite again. Most great writers consider rewriting an integral part of the writing process. Writing a scene multiple times in different ways can help you distill these different attempts into the best writing you have to offer. Rewriting helps you work out any parts that don’t make sense or are illogical, which will help your writing sound smarter and more considered.

Read your work out loud. Reading your work out loud will almost certainly make you a better writer. Embarrassing as it may seem in the moment, speaking the words out loud is a great way to notice the rhythm of your sentences and catch any unintended repetition or awkward word choices.

Learn how to hook your readers. Your hook-writing style will depend on whether you’re a fiction writer working on a novel or a copywriter blogging for a company, but every good writer has a strategy for generating interest. Try starting your piece with an emotional scene or a surprising statement. The important thing is that your first sentence, scene, or page creates questions in your reader’s mind, encouraging them to keep reading. Beware of the obvious hook—spend time coming up with a thoughtful, unique hook that will make your writing sound smart, not gimmicky.

Write concisely. Short sentences with simple words tend to sound smarter than long sentences full of big words. You don’t have to sound like Ernest Hemingway, but you should try cutting unnecessary language from your text. Often, it will make your piece more concise and authoritative.

Use the active voice. When writing in the active voice, the subject of a sentence performs the action. Passive voice sentences contain subjects that are the object of the sentence’s verb. They are not the “doer” of the sentence; they are the recipient of an action. Sentences constructed with the active voice use fewer words and are easier to understand.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[candlelitcanvas]

Gempearl Week Day 6: Devotion/Betrayal

Hi everyone! Here’s my drawing for day six of Gempearl week! Sorry that I haven’t been posting for the last two days, I didn’t do some of the prompts because of burnout. But this prompt was like when you put off an essay until Sunday at 11:59 and then you write the most beautiful thing ever written. Long story short, I really love this piece ITS SO ANGSTY.

Okay…maybe I took some artistic liberties (flaming arrows=fire, right?). Secret life CHANGED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY AND NOW IM OBSESSED WITH THEM AHHH okay byeee happy gempearl week!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6 K Warnings: none. Prompt: Classes have started, how will the new relationship fare with the upcoming normalcy? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Not proofread

Chapter 65: Spell Binder

Thursday 13th, 1977

“Please take your seats,” Flitwick said as more and more students started to fill in the room. This time around you sat in your usual place next to Remus. Once most students had taken their spots, he climbed up his small podium and smiled. “Now, we had quite an issue last class, and I completely forgot about your essays. Please leave them on my desk by the end of the class…” 

There was a choir of groans, you turned to Lily with a smile, as you showed her that this time around you had finished the essay and she rolled her eyes as she shook her head and smiled, mouthing something like “cheat” as she looked at you. 

You gave her a pout and mouthed “I saved you ass, you should be thanking me,” back at her. She raised her eyebrows in amusment and you just smiled, covering your face and coughing to mask your barely contained laughter.

“What’s that about?” Remus asked as he leaned closer to you and offered you some water from a metal bottle. 

“Lily hadn’t done her homework, last class,” you explained. “We saved her.” Remus smiled at your words, leaning a little closer to you as he pulled your inkpot to the centre of the table since he’d forgotten his own.

“Professor, I’m afraid I cannot hand in my essay,” said Tom, who was sitting just behind you and Remus. 

“Did you forget it?” 

“No sir, I made it. But the toads ate it as we were leaving the classroom.” 

“The… Toads ate it?”  the professor asked unsure. 

You bit the side of your cheek to avoid laughing and felt Remus nudge you with his elbow and give you a warning look. If you giggled, Flitwick wouldn’t buy it. 

“Mine too,” said Sirius as he sent a quick wink at Tom and pulled out a completely torn piece of paper from under the table. “Couldn’t salvage it at all.” 

“How the fuck…” you mouthed as you looked at his piece of paper. 

“The Toads?” asked Flitwick again. 

“Perhaps it’s the type of Toads?” said Marlene. “They did look quite hungry…” 

That was perhaps the one thing that made actual sense, you thought. If the water spirit had been hungry, and although you’d taken precautions to trap the toads with some food, it made sense that they’d be hungry after being there for so long. 

“Yeah, mine too!” Added someone else from the back. 

“And mine.” 

Flitwick shook his head “All right, all right. Whoever lost their homework due to the toad incident, may bring it to my office tomorrow, you will be graded as if you had handed it in on time. Those who hand it in today will get a bonus point on your overall grade. Sounds fair?” 

“Yes, thank you, professor!” Said Tom with a smile. 

“Thank you,” added Sirius, placing the torn piece of paper back in his bag. 

“Now that that’s out of the picture, let’s talk a little bit of charms. Is there a charm or potion that could have caused the toad incident?” 

“Well, there’s the summoning charm?” Said Michael, the same Hufflepuff whose Fireworm had exploded the day before. 

“Could a summoning charm summon that many toads?” Asked Flitwick.

“Perhaps if they had been clustered together before? With a binding spell of some sort?” proposed Imogen. 

“That could have been it, if the toads had appeared only in one castle and not all over the castle. Unless there was a student summoning toads in each room,” James reasoned.

“Duplication charm?” 

“Or maybe a time-turner?” Said Imogen. 

“Those are way too hard to get,” said Sirius as he shook his head. You threw him a look and he shrugged. Something told you he’d tried. 

“What about a modified Slug-vomiting charm?” Asked Terix –short for Asterix– another Hufflepuff. 

“Did you see anyone vomiting the toads?” asked Michael who was sitting beside him. 

“Well no– but…” 

“I know! Frog-spawn soap!” said Mary.  “Has to be that, right?” 

“But that only works with water,” argued Michael. 

“Well, there was a lot of water,” you said, almost as a throwaway comment. 

“Flooding spell plus frogspawn soap?” Said Remus. “Makes sense.” 

“What about a gemino curse?” asked a Hufflepuff boy whom you’d never heard talk from the back. He was shy and often had either a book or a notebook in his hand. 

“The toads were different,” said Dora (also a Hufflepuff) kindly. “Had it been gemino they would have all been the same.” 

“How do you know they were different?” asked Michael, “They all looked the same to me.” 

“They were definitely different,” insisted the girl. She had bright green hair, which is why some people accused her of being part mermaid. “Some had spots and others didn’t. And they had different hues of green too.” 

“Different hues of green?” Terix inquiered. 

“Plenty of them,” she answered with a nod. 

“Mr. Lupin, what do you think could have happened?” Flitwick asked, cutting the previous line of reasoning. 

“The soap and flooding spell sounds possible,” he said with a shrug. 

“Whatever it might have been,” said James a little loud. “Thank Merlin it happened, we had a fantastic day!” 

“Except for the Fireworms,” said Imogen. 

“Except for the tragic loss of the fireworms,” agreed Prongs solemnly. 

“So that means all we need to do to find the culprit is figure out who bought ridiculous amounts of Frog Spawn Soap at Zonko’s?” you asked with a shrug. It was delightful to have the chance to drive the investigation away from you and the boys and towards a dead end. 

“They could have bought only one and used gemino on it?” said Michael. 

“Would that make everyone who’s bought Frog Spawn Soap a suspect?” Asked Sirius with a devious smile. 

“Not everyone can use gemino, it’s a 7th-year spell!” said Terix. 

“But I’ve seen 4th years do it,” said Remus casually. “Vix knows too,” he added as he pointed at you. 

“Kind of,” you lied. “Still trying to get the hand of it,” you corrected. 

Flitwick smiled at the fact that you’d attempted to learn such a complicated spell. The kind of smile that was both proud but also not too surprised about it, as that was something normal to expect from you –which perhaps it was, at least a little bit. 

“So it narrows it down to everyone who’s able to use gemino and bought Frog Spawn Soap,” said Imgoen, trying to both recap and divert the attention away from you. She had no evidence that you’d been involved in the prank, but she didn’t have any doubts either, it was also the kind of thing you would have done –provided that the boys got you wrapped up in it, and you had been with them most of the Christmas Break. 

“What if they bought the Frog Spawn Soap elsewhere? We were all on the break, could have bought it at any prank shop of the country ��heck– they could have even bought it abroad.” 

 “Yeah, there is no way we track down the culprit if they got it abroad, right professor?” asked Mary.

“Unfortunately, if it was frog spawn soap there is no way for us to discover who caused the infestation –If it really was a student that made it happen…” 

“What do you mean by that? You think it might have been Peeves?” asked Dora Johnson. 

“Although that was a theory initially, we’ve talked to Peeves, he maintains it wasn’t him.” 

“And you believe a poltergeist?” asked Tim sceptically. 

“Peeves often takes pride of his pranks, he wouldn’t hide it was him with this one, since it was quite successful,” replied James politely, but also matter-of-factly. Peeves had never taken the credit for any of the marauder’s pranks. 

“Indeed he is, thank you Mr. Potter,” nodded Flitwick. “But that wasn’t exactly what I meant with it having been caused by a student. 

“Then what did you?” 

“I guess this would be more of a History of Magic class, or History of Hogwarts…” He looked up and then around. “Does anybody have that book around at the moment?” 

“Hogwarts: A History?” asked Beth. 

“Precisely.” 

“I think I’ve got it,” Lily said as she dug her hand into her bag and pulled out a considerably thick book. “I’m working on an essay for my optative,” she explained when the entire class looked at her like she was a unicorn. Well, everyone except for James, who was looking at her in his usual manner –heart eyes, almost a little dumbed out, totally oxytocin-filled. 

“No need to explain yourself, Miss Evans,” said Flitwik with a simple nod. She gave him a lopsided smile in return. “Please open page 157.” 

Lily frowned as she looked at him but did as told. Marlene sitting beside her, leaned over Lily’s shoulder too. “Hogwart’s self Mantainance?” 

“Indeed, indeed,” the teacher replied with a nod. “Please the first paragraph Miss. Mackinnon.” 

“Hogwarts is a complex magical structure, and even if Salazar, Godric, Helga and Rowena planned for the house elves to do most of the cleaning, there were still other things that had to be taken care of. After a lot of talking, the four founders ended up designing an incredibly complex system for the self-maintenance for the school. About 4,000 spells were cast all over, some of them imbued with ancient spells we don’t use anymore…” 

“Yes! Yes! That’s right,” Flitwick said as Marlene’s reading slowly died down. “And you see, many of said spells are a complete mystery. Some have recorded them, some are recurring, but others are a total enigma, and happen every hundreds of years. When I was a student, for an entire week the school smelled funny. Some of the portraits explained every two or three hundred years the students complained about that funny smell, like rotten eggs. Upon some research, we discovered it was a rather specific charm to keep undesirable magical creatures at bay. 

“And while the toads have never been recorded, who’s to say it wasn’t some kind of charm? Perhaps a pest control of some kind…” 

“So you think It’s some kind of ancient continence charm?” Asked Tom with a sly smile. 

“Well, it’s a theory, indeed.” 

“If you think about it, it makes sense,” said Dora. “Toads are always eating insects and stuff… which makes them great for controlling small pests. And the toads did look quite hungry.” 

“Precisely Miss. Johnson,” nodded Fltwick as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Even when there’s been no record of it happening before?” asked Terix. 

“Well…” said Marlene as she flipped through the pages. “There weren’t any records of the total blackout of the 50s, they only figured out it had been part of the maintenance because somebody found the spell in a book years later.” 

“Does that mean many other weird things like the toads could happen?” Asked Michael. 

“They are quite rare…” you said, as you peeked over to Lily’s table. Remus gave you a look and pulled you back towards your spot when he thought you were going to fall. “Thanks,” you muttered as you turned to him and softly pinched the side of his arm. It was a way to say ‘love you’ when you couldn’t quite squeeze his hand or press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Indeed, you should consider yourselves lucky that you witnessed such a historic event,” the professor said solemnly. 

“Right we are!” said James. “History! We witnessed History!” 

It’s not that James was saying it in an ironic manner or anything similar, if anything he seemed just as excited as Flitwick. But it was because you knew his roll in the prank that his words seemed so hilarious. Rather than laughing, though, you coughed a couple of times and then drank a little bit of water to calm your nerves. 

“Way to be discrete about it Vixen,” said Prongs as the three of you walked towards your next class. 

“You weren’t much better,” you said with a laugh. “We should be thankful, we’ve witnessed history,” you added in a high-pitched tone while waving your hands in the air dramatically. 

“I don’t sound like that at all!” he complained. 

“You kind of do!” you teased, and he threw a few peanuts he was munching on towards you.

“James, don’t be so wasteful, please,” Lily chided, she had just caught up with all of you. 

“Right, sorry, Luv,” he said as he turned to look at her, and took from her shoulders to carry it himself. 

You and Remus exchanged a diverted glance, and then Lily turned to you with a small smirk and a wink. You raised your eyebrows as you looked at her –she had a very smug expression going on at this point and you lagged behind just enough to blow her a kiss without James noticing (then he would have known she didn’t really mean it about being wasteful, but rather was defending you). 

“Oi! Hands off my peanuts, Padfoot!” he said as he snapped the other boy’s hand. 

“Our Peanuts, Prongs,” said Sirius with a casual shrug as he plopped one of them into his mouth. “This is a communist society.” 

“Communist my ass, I had to bribe the house elves for this ones!” 

“You what?” Lily asked as he turned to him in shock. 

“By ‘bribe’, he just means he goes down to the kitchen and asks them nicely,” Peter explained. 

“Well yeah, but they didn’t want to give them up because they needed them for some the Chicken Stay.” 

“Satay,” corrected Sirius. 

“What?” 

“It’s Chicken Satay, not Chicken Stay.” 

“Wait, really?” James asked as he turned to him, clearly confused. Sirius took that as an opportunity to take a few more peanuts. He moved the handful behind your back, which Remus took after a graceful movement that you hadn’t had the luck to witness. 

“Yeah,” you said, to keep his eyes away from the bag. Lily rolled her eyes at the entire interaction, but she had a happy smile on her face as she watched how well the three of you worked together, like the finest wristwatch, each gear working in tandem to tell the right time. “You didn’t know?” 

“I thought it was stay!” 

“Either way, how are they gonna make the food withotut the peanuts?” 

“They were just for the sauce, I told them they could try and make a different sauce, to get creative.” 

“Merlin, we’ll have mystery sauce,” said Lily. 

“Just avoid the sauce,” James said with a shrug. “Besides, the peanuts are a great surce of protein, perfect for all of us Quidditch players prepparing for the last match.” 

“And yet you’re gatekeeping them,” you said. 

“Ugh, just have some,” he siad as he handed the bag over to you and you placed a couple in your hand, Remus was already munching on some of the ones Sirius had sneaked for him and you took one and plopped it in your mouth before feeding Sirius a couple of them. 

“Did you guys finish your homework?” asked Mary, she had ran inbetween James and Lily and stood right infront of everyone with a preoccupied face. 

“What homework?” asked Sirius with a frown. 

“Potions? Essay about common household ones? it was for the break.” 

You turned to Remus with a worried expression, but he gave you a calm nod in return. “We’ve got it, don’t worry, Luv.” 

You were tempted to lean in and press a kiss on his beautiful lips, but there were too many people in the corridors not to mention the fact that neither Mary nor Peter knew about the new relationship status, and although the three of you agreed you’d slowly tell your friends –and you were meant to tell the girls while they the boys, neither of you had set a due date, rather you decided to do it when you thought was best.

“Shit,” Sirius said as he remembered both that he hadn’t done it, and that Severus was now his partner in potions. “You think he did it?” 

“Severus?” you asked. “There is no way in hell he puts your name on it. Especially not after the new nickname you gave him.” 

“He does not know I was the one that started it…” 

“He blames us for everything bad that happens to him anyway,” James said as Sirius turned to him.

“Well, at least I won’t be the only one that didn’t do it.” 

“Who are you looking at, I did it!” 

“You what?” Sirius asked, dumbfounded. 

“Actually, the only reason I remembered to do it is thanks to Vix” 

“Whatever do I have to do with your essay? Didn’t even remember to do mine.” 

“You recall that day you were playing Romeo and Juliet on the balcony and then fell?” 

“You fell off James’ balcony?!” intervened Lily, pitch slightly higher, concerned evident in her tone.

“James made it sound a lot worse than it actually was,” you reassured. “2 and a half metres at most… Maybe three.” 

Lily looked at you just as horrified as she had been looking at you before. “Some bushed caught her, she was totally fine,” James added. “Either way, a fall is a fall, so we went digging in my father’s cabinet for some anti-swelling potion.” 

“By Merlin, what we found there.” 

“What you found there? What did you find there?” asked Sirius, turning towards you.

You and James exchanged a look and then laughed. “Bit of everything.” 

“Anyway, we left the one we used outside and when Dad asked me to put it back, I remembered and wrote a quick one.” 

“And what potion did you talk about?” 

“Sleekeazy, I asked Dad if he still had his notes from when he created it, we’re definitely going to get an ‘O’.” 

Lily gave him a thumbs-up and a small smile. James had been working a lot harder on potions since he was with her and they’d turned into an incredibly good team. The fact that they’d started dating just made it better, since Lily was less impassive and a lot more tolerant towards him now.

“So I’m the only one without an essay?” 

“Nah, Mars and I did nothing either,” Mary said with a pout. “Is anyone willing to lend me their essay?” 

“I have some notes on Draught of Living Death,” you said as you pulled out your notebook, but Sirius was quicker to snatch it away from your hands than Mary.

“Sorry, darling,” he told her with a smile. “I’ve got boyfriend privileges.” 

Her pout just grew and Lily took out her notebook, “You can take my notes on Veritasserum,” she said with a small shrug, Mary’ pout instantly turned into a smile. “I’ve got the best friends in the entire world,” she said as she pulled both you and Lily towards her and placed her arms arounf your shoulders. “And not just because you help me when I forget my homework, you know that, right?” 

Lily laughed and you smiled, leaning your head against her shoulder and feeling some of her thick curls brush against your cheek, content to have such delightful friends, and thinking how exactly you would tell them about you and the boys and the relationship you’d ended up in. 

Slughorn was already inside the classroom by the time you reached the door, he was leaning in his desk with a small smile and and that air of grandiosity he always carried himself with. New year, new potion, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t going to be an easy one at all. He looked all too thrilled about giving the class for it to be an easy one, but you didn’t hate the idea of a complicated potion. In fact, you yearned for the normalcy of your problems being related to school and not the end of the world and a fascist takeover of power.

A few ingredients were already settled on the tables as everyone walked over to their place.  Some looked at the assortment with curiosity, while others just pushed them towards the end of the table almost carelessly, to make some space for their parchments and notebooks. Remus eyed you once he spotted the large jar filled with rose petals, wondering if you liked recieving flowers, he’d never asked. 

He didn’t much like giving flowers, there was something inherently sad about giving someone something on the verge of dying that displeased him. Even when charmed, and frozen in time, cut flowers were still cut, and once cut, they couldn’t survive, not in a way that mattered at least. Magic could make them last forever, but they still would be forever at the edge of dying. He much preferred giving living flowers. Hope always had flower pots and her orchard had always been filled with flowers –taken care of by spells from Lyall since she wasn’t all that great at keeping them alive either. But he had always seen them in bloom, from rose bushes to hydrangeas and even lily bells. 

He used to love, before going to Hogwarts and while he was educated by his parents, to see them sprout as the snow started to dissolve into water poodles, the almost magic-like qualities of the change of seasons and the resilient little buds that refused to give up on life even in such withering conditions. He used to think he was like those little plants, no matter how cold winter got, he kept fighting his way up the thick snow, perhaps eventually it would melt. 

And when he turned back to look at you, writing something in your notebook and then turning to him after noticing he was staring, smiling and sending him a small wink, he realised that the snow had indeed melted. You and Sirius were bright enough to melt it, and he would push through, and give his best, as long as he could bathe on your shine once he beat whatever layer of snow the world might bring him. 

“What’s got you so lost in thought?” you asked as you leaned closer to him. 

“Just thinking of my partners,” he said as he turned to you with a sneaky smile. 

“So you are?” you smiled just as teasingly, perhaps a good smile wouldn’t let him see how embarrassed you actually were. “Care to share with the class?” 

“It wouldn’t be proper,” he lied. 

“All the more fun then, isn’t it?” 

“How can such a dirty mind fit in such a small head?” he teased as he placed his hand on your head and shook you lightly, you laughed merrily at his action, and leaned back towards him. Sirius was way too focused on creating an essay to notice how adorable his lovers looked, which perhaps wasn’t all that bad, since he would have wanted to abandon what he was doing entirely just to join you.

More and more students walked inside the classroom when the bell rang and Slughorn stood from his seat, waving his hand at the door and having it close just seconds later, which had some students jump startled in their seats. 

“From the ingredients in the table, can anybody guess what potion we’re making today?” 

“Calming draught?” asked a student.

“That does not have Niffler’s Fancy,” said Severus with an eye roll. “Is it a beautification potion?” he asked. 

“Why, need one of those?” Sirius mumbled and got a death stare from the greasy-haired boy. 

Remus sighed, he knew teasing Severus was a bad idea, especially after what he’d seen in the bathroom. The small snicker you were trying to hold almost instantly made him forget. It had been quite a hilarious tease anyway. 

You looked at the assortment of ingredients: rose petals, niffler’s fancy, moonstone, pearl dust, mint, aswinder eggs (perhaps the most telling of them all), vanilla pod, and a few other things where the label was too small or non-existent.

“Is it Healing Tonic?” asked James, who remembered seeing some of those ingredients in his father’s medical journal. 

The ingredients themselves could have prepared anything, even the ashwinder eggs, but there had been something unusual at the beginning of the class that gave you an idea of what the potion could have been “It’s amortentia, isn’t it, Professor? That’s why you shut the door,” you said.

Slughorn’s smile widened as he looked at you. “Brilliantly said, darling,” he said.  You’d only ever heard him call Lily with that nickname, until then you had only been “Miss” and your last name. You almost appreciated not being reminded of Silas in that sense. “Indeed, indeed, we’ll be brewing amorentia.” 

“Aren’t we supposed to be able to do those only after the N.E.W.T.S?” Said Mulciber from the back. 

“That’s right, Mr. Dolohov, in fact only some students in 7th actually get to brew the potion effectively. Regardless, the potion contains a lot of complicated techniques that you’ll find useful on other brews, and since this class already has a handful of talented potioneers–” he looked around, his eyes stopping in your table, Lily, Severus and Evan’s– “I decided we would make the first attempt on this class. If a team does succeed, you’ll be getting a price in return.” 

“A price?” Asked Sirius curiously. 

“A potion from my personal stash, whichever you want, no questions asked,” Slughorn added as he pulled a small wooden box and opened it, inside of it there were about 50 different vials, small and with various shapes and sizes, from round and transparent, swirled and completely black. All of them had a small label hanging from them with neatly written cursive, Slughorn’s handwriting. 

“Any of them? Whichever we choose?” Asked Evan apprehensively. 

“Yes, indeed,” Slughorn nodded, and with a wave of his hand, the box closed itself shut. He pulled out his wand and a set of books rose from the back bookshelf and slowly flew towards everyone’s desk. “Page 567, Mr. Black, please.” 

Sirius cleared his throat and pulled the book towards him as he quickly flipped through the pages, “Amortentia, also known as The Most Powerful Love Potion in existence, is also an extremely dangerous brew that can have catastrophic results if handled incorrectly,” he started. Slughorn seemed quite pleased, and after Sirius turned his eyes up to make sure he was expected to continue, he did. “Do not be fooled by its name, although the effects of Amortentia are extremely powerful, it is impossible for it, or any other potion to manufacture true love. Its true effect is akin to obsessive infatuation.” 

“Indeed, but as you know, even if it is not true love, excessive infatuation can be extremely dangerous. Any real-life examples?” Lily raised her hand. “Miss Evans, please.” 

“When Henry VIII of England was king, he fell madly in love with Anne Boleyn. Plenty of scholars said they often saw her pouring drinks for him at parties and gatherings, and that little after he was head over hills for her. She managed to secure her marriage with Henry and England went through the break with the church. Anne never quite managed to give him a male heir and she fell out of favour.

“I read somewhere that before that happened, some of his advisors realised she was pouring stuff in his drinks and she was forbidden from serving the king, And only after that she fell out of his favour, then the Witchcraft rumours started. I checked on some old Hogwarts records because I was curious. Anne studied here before joining the king’s court, back in the fifteen hundreds, she was a Slytherin and a promising potioneer, although she was never quite good at charms. This was back when Hogwarts didn’t have such a complete curriculum, and students were only expected to master one or two crafts instead of all of them.”  You’d swear there was a shine in Slughorn’s eyes as he heard Lily speak. “The records of her being a witch were erased from most of their history, but the rumours persisted, and perhaps they would have stayed as that if Hogwarts didn’t have such a complete library.” 

“An excellent example, Miss Evans. It illustrates the dangers of obsessive infatuation.”

“What? Destroying a marriage?” Someone joked from behind. 

“Being murdered for it,” retorted Mulciber. 

“She was only murdered because she got discovered.” 

“That’s such a Slytherin comment,” Mary said to Marlene under her breath, unfortunately, the Slytherin who spoke first heard it.

“What did you say?” he asked as he stood up, his chair grinding against the stone loudly. 

“Enough!” Slughorn said. “20 points from Slytherin thanks to Mr. Parkinson,” he added sternly. “10 for Gryffindor, thanks to Miss Evans’s brilliant remark.” 

There was a choir of cheers and moans, and Mulciber kicked Preston Parkinson under the table, who complained about it with a moan and a look of hate. Lily stood straighter, proud of having gotten some more points for her house, and James was staring at her as if she were the brightest star in the galaxy. 

“Now, allow us to continue. Can somebody tell me what the most important ingredient in amorentia is?” 

“Pearl dust?” someone asked, Slughorn shook his head. 

“Ashwinder eggs?” Marlene asked, generally the most important ingredient of the potion was the first listed, so she went for it. 

“It’s extremely important, but no.” He looked at you. “Any ideas?” 

You looked at him, going through the list of instructions one by one, and then you remembered. “The item belonging to whom which the drinker will fall in love with,” you said. “Without it, it’s a completely useless brew that smells nice, with it, it becomes a weapon. Like Polyjuice.” 

“Yes! And…?” He pressed.

You bit your lip, you weren’t sure what else there was, you turned to Remus for help, and nodded calmly before looking at Slughorn, “It’s the intention, isn’t it, Professor?” 

Slughorn seemed quite pleased with the answer. “Indeed, the intention and the item are the most important. You may brew a perfect potion, but without the intention, even the best brew will be nothing more than an ingredient soup.” 

“What does that mean?” Asked Archie McMillan, a Slytherin that wasn’t all that disagreeable.

“Some potions require you to have clear intentions as you brew them. Much like the unforgivable curses, if you do not mean to use them accordingly, then they won’t work.” 

“But…” started Beth. “Wouldn’t us wanting to make such a potion put us in a bad position?” 

“Brilliant question, Miss Harmon. But want and intent are not the same. You may not want to harm someone and still intend to do it. For example, when you’re in an argument, you may purposefully say things to hurt the other person. Intentions are short-lived, temporary, wants, on the contrary, may last much longer.” 

“But does that mean we must have the intention to use it while we brew it?” Asked Mary. 

“Indeed,” he said as he nodded. “You must have the intention to use it, even if you do not want to do it.” 

“That sounds complicated,” Marlene said as she shook her head.

“And that’s why it is one of the trickiest potions to brew,” Slughorn confirmed. “Advance potions tend to have this quality, intentions matter, and that is also why they are so complicated to craft. A good flask of amorentia, one that will last for years, can cost up to a thousand galleons, and can only be found on the black market. The longer it lasts, the more expensive it will be. Does anyone know how to guess the potency of amorentia?” 

“The stronger it’s smell, the more potent,” retorted Severus. 

“Indeed, Mr. Snape, indeed.” 

“So the potion that’ll get the price will be the one that smells the strongest?” Asked Alison Prewett.

“Precisely,” he said solemnly. 

“But how do we intend without wanting?” Asked Tom. 

“Quite simple,” said Slughorn. “Think of the person you’d like to use the potion on, while you brew, cut and stir.” 

“But what if I don’t want to use it on anyone?” Asked Peter. 

“Think about it,” Slughorn said. “Is there really no person you’d like to use a potion like that on? Nobody you fancy but know is completely out of your reach? Perhaps a celebrity? A book character? A Quidditch player?” 

Peter adverted his gaze and looked at the table, taking a deep breath which made you look at him with some concern. “You think he’s all right?” you asked as you leaned towards Remus. 

“Wormmy?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

You shrugged, “Something in his gaze, I guess… Might be overthinking it.” 

Remus leaned his head and turned to Peter, but by then he had already gathered himself up again and was clumsily writing what Slughorn was saying on his parchment. Very characteristic of him, “He looks all right to me.” 

“Yeah, I suppose he does,” you said as you looked at him again, Remus words reassuring enough for the thought to slip your mind as Slughorn kept going on about all the ingredients you would need.

“All the ingredients are on the table, you may start. Remeber, maintain your intention, the stronger it is, the better the potion will come out.” 

“This would have been a lot easier last semester,” Remus said as you weighed some of the ingredients.

“You think?” you asked as you moved the weights on the scale, making sure it was the right amount.

“I would have had just the right intentions.” 

You turned to him with a smile, “Yeah?” you teased. “Would have thought of using it on us?” 

He shrugged, “I was always thinking of you, it would have been easy enough to keep the intention.” 

“You could still think of us, it’s what I’m planning to do,” you said with a shrug. 

“Yeah? You’ll think of me? But you already know you have me.” 

You hummed in response. “Still, imagine what a little bit of amortentia could do to calm old Remus,” you added with a smirk.

He gasped, “Calm, old?”

“Well, if the shoe fits–”

“You haven’t seen a thing. We’ve been dating for like, what? A day and a half?” he whispered. 

“See? You’re exactly the type that would keep count,” you said, just to tease him, and the brush on his tongue on the inside of his cheek made a small bump as he shook his head.

“You think it’s funny.” 

“I think it’s adorable,” you retorted, equally teasing smile. “I think you are adorable.” 

“Now you’re just trying to make me blush.” 

“Perhaps If I keep that as my intention then we’ll get the potion to be fantastic,” you retorted.

“You think I’d blush more under amortentia.” 

“You don’t? Picture this. Your room, me and Sirius. The boys aren’t around, and there definitely won’t be any James barging in at the wrong time. We’re listening to some nice, soft jazz in the record player, maybe some of the ones I got you on Christmas, maybe some from your collection and–” 

“Is everything all right with you two?” Asked Slughorn as he approached.

“Delightful,” you said, turning to him with a smile. Remus could tell you were blushing by the way your smile tightened as you looked up, he leaned his head on his hand looked at you with a very self-assured look, and raised an eyebrow, which you saw out of the corner of your eye. He was teasing you now, in retaliation for your earlier insinuations. “We were just discussing our intentions.” 

Slughorn gave you a pleased look, “Such a brilliant team the two of you make,” he said with a nod. “Nothing better than two friends being potion partners,” he added. “Well, perhaps two lovers…” 

“Like Effie and Monty, right?” 

“Yes, the Potters were some of the few students I’ve had that completed this potion perfectly. They weren’t dating then, I believe they thought of each other. It made it all the more powerful in the end.” 

“Well, I certainly know who my partner will be thinking of,” Sirius said maliciously towards Severus, once he overheard the conversation you were having with Slughorn. 

“Yeah, well I know exactly who you’ll be thinking of as well,” the other boy retorted viciously. “And it won’t be your stupid little girlfriend, will it?”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Since we're getting close to the end, I'm planning to do a reread (10-15 chaps left) + heavy revision once we're done (still a few months from there but it's probably going to be done sometime this year) because I want to make my own printed version of it (probably on Lulu), and perhaps a cute epub file? It will probably contain pictures, fan art, and other bonus material. Either way, if you want to collaborate, either in the revision or in bonus content, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

Read more Marauders Fiction

[sparklegirl-3000]

Dystopian world-building for funsies cuz why not

Cordelia and her Batch-mates were raised by Caretakers after they were Produced by the Producers. They have no parents, no family. Just the Caretakers and each other.

When they are old enough, they are brought to the Academy as Students. Cordelia is especially fascinated by Pre-Disaster Studies, a subject taught in the Academy.

All babies, both boys and girls, have been pre-conditioned during their Production (as zygotes, during their gene arrangements) to have only straight hair, never curly. Girls wear their hair down, nice and straight, with no tying or accessorising. Boys are expected to keep their hair trimmed short and tidy, but with no curls or styling.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

I did actually have a decent video essay output this year. Aside from The Most Important Essay (which is the best piece anyone has ever written), here are what I think are my best videos in 2024, in no order:

Spy in the House of Eth and Automating Exploitation- Zedeck Siew's always been a phenomenal writer, but I'm proud of my read of the module's undead automata and how I compared it to "AI as Necromancy." I feel moderately less hopeless about AI now than when I wrote it, but it's still very relevant

The History Behind "They Took Our War" and "Before the Boats- Kevin Nguyen's solo games on the traumas of the Vietnam War prompted me to do a deeper dive into the rage behind his words. If you're a US citizen, you likely never learned how horrible all aspects of the war really were.

The Hidden Lore of Wanderhome- I don't think this video is especially smart--it's mostly speculation about what's implied by the text. But I would love for more folks to be doing this kind of fan work for RPGs. Indie designers have so many secrets in their games, and I want us to be as excited for them as people are for Elden Ring lore videos

Dialect RPG and A Memory Called Empire- Death by Assimilation I truly think no one else is doing literary analysis of RPGs like me, and this is a short and sweet example of how intertextual reads can bring out a game's themes. Also plz read Rascal's story on the Iranian D&D scene

Jumping the Track: Death of the Author, Metalepsis, and Hadestown- Again, solid comparative piece talking about the thematic goals and similarities by two different designers, framed around Hadestown's use of the railway as stand in for inevitability. And who doesn't like a musical?

---

I think I've had a mixed output this year. More misses than hits. But I'm still proud of whatever niche I occupy in the hobby, and I hope my work shows people how incredible the indie RPG scene is.

[renthony]

Official Commission Info Post

(Updated July 8, 2024. Copied over from my main website.)

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Provide me with a topic related to my areas of interest, and I’ll share my expertise, opinions, and insights. My areas of interest/expertise include speculative fiction (sci-fi/fantasy), fiction writing, literature studies, television & film studies, media censorship, animation, and pop/fandom culture.

Note: You choose the topic, not the angle. You can’t pay me to write any amount on the topic, “why Ren’s favorite thing is actually bad,” or, “why Ren’s least-favorite politician is actually a superhero.” I reserve the right to refuse any commission for any reason, with money refunded where necessary. I retain full credit and ownership of my writing—meaning I don’t do homework and I don’t do ghostwriting.

Examples of my work can be found at this link. Further info below the cut.

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À La Carte

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General 500 Word Topics

500 words doesn’t give me much space, so these commissions are great for getting my basic thoughts and opinions on a topic. You can use the following list as simple prompts on their own, or as a springboard to come up with your own, more specific prompt.

Science Fiction

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Self-Publishing

Animation

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Cosplay and Costuming

Media Representation

Media Preservation

Media Piracy

Censorship

Purity Culture

Labor Rights in the Entertainment Industry

Queer Media History

Fandom

3k Essay Prompts:

These topics require a little more space to dig into, so I need at least 3,000 words to do them justice. You can also request any of the prompts from the 500 word prompt list for a more robust essay on the topic.

Always Watch the Background Actors: How Learning Stage Combat Improved My Moviegoing Experience

Animation and Musicals: Misunderstood Non-Genres

Draw from the Heart: Using Familiar Settings to Craft New Worlds

Worldbuilding: Avoiding the Planet of Hats Trope

Worldbuilding: Utilizing Elements of Culture

5k Research Paper Topics:

These are the big topics that will require research, citations, and several long weeks of work. I can write as much on the topic as you want, but it must be at least 5,000 words. You can also request any of the prompts from the 500 word or 3k word prompt lists for more robust essays on the topic.

Killing the Cat: Violence Against the Vulnerable as Sloppy Narrative Shorthand

It Wasn't a Damn Door: Why Jack Dawson Had to Die

Bury Your Gays on Solstheim: Queer Representation in the Elder Scrolls

Invisibility or the Freakshow: Intersex Representation on American Television

The Nuke in the Room: Political Allegory in Samurai Jack

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[yellowhollyhock]

March for Raph is coming up!!

In March

like in the name

Anyway!

What's March for Raph? A list of 31 prompts (words or short phrases) for the month of March, all Raph centric, open to any iteration. You can draw, make gifs, write stories, write essays, short videos, whatever you can think of! No pressure at all to complete all the prompts, it's less of a checklist more of an inspiration board. The point is just to celebrate a character we love and also meet other Raph fans, that's really the best part.

Check out the tag #march for raph to see what it was like last year (we'll use the same tag this year). I'll be checking the tag daily when March comes to make sure everyone's stuff gets shared, please also feel free to @ me in case anything doesn't show in tags

This wasn't even remotely an issue last year but since I just invited all whoever to @ me I should add: I won't be reblogging tcest, x reader, anything excessively violent or sexual. Keep it clean pretty please

Here's the updated prompt list for 2025; I'll link this post in pinned so it's findable, and will be trying to keep it circulating these next couple of months (tell your friends!)

March for Raph

Perfect Outfit

Revenge

Too Loud

Sunset

Trash Talk

I'm Walking Here

Nicknames

Shield

Phobia

Hanging with Casey

Comfort Food

Stir Crazy

Worthless

Disguise

Fireworks

High Score

Pet Care

Leader

Black Sheep

Mind Control

Sneaking Out

Puzzling

Take This Seriously

Wheels

Good Citizen

Lonely

Movie Night

Broken Vase

Ambush

Wrestling

Standing up to Bullies

[professorsnape394]

Day 3: Haunted Hijinks

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC

Rating: 🥰

Prompt: Haunt

Summary: Peeves has it out for the new Professor and only Severus Snape can help.

A/N: So I had initially intended for his to be a shorter story but it ended up being even bigger than my last. I apologise if there maybe isn't quite enough Snape for you, but good news is there will be a part 2!

Warnings: ghosts?

Word Count: 2518

Credits to Gif Creator

Week 1

The haunting started just as I had anticipated. Doors slamming, objects randomly disappearing and reappearing in different places, drawers sporadically flinging themselves open and emptying their entire contents onto the floor.

I wasn’t scared. I knew it was coming.

When I first joined the school Minerva was over the moon to have her favourite student joining the faculty. I received an overwhelmingly warm welcome by everyone… everyone, except two.

The first was to be expected. Severus Snape was never a man for comradery. Despite the fact we had both attended Hogwarts at the same time as teens, my presence here didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. While I had been admittedly disappointed by his cold reception, I wasn’t surprised by it. Snape rarely acknowledged me, even when we had shared classes together. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he didn’t even know I existed.

The second, less then pleasant reception, came from a poltergeist.

As confirmed by Minerva, Peeves had a habit of making every new professor’s life at Hogwarts a living hell. Everyone had experienced the same treatment, all except one.

The torment was to last one month exactly, worsening as the weeks went on. This was his way of initiating you into the faculty apparently. The silver lining of it all though, was after the month was done, no professor would be pestered by the poltergeist thereafter.

The first week passed without issue. Yes, it was annoying to go to pick up your hairbrush only to have it vanish from plain sight. And constantly tidying up the contents of my desk was becoming a bit of a nuisance but nothing I couldn’t handle for the next few weeks.

Week 2

“Peeves!” I groaned, jumping from my chair, as my whole desk hit the floor. “I’m trying to work.”

The room echoed with deep belly laughter, an apparition of the ghost appearing as he zoomed from one side of the room to the other.

Books flew from their spot on the bookcase, smashing into the opposite wall before fluttering to the floor. One after the other the shelves emptied themselves, leaving only the bare bones of the old oak bookcase.

While trying to right my upturned desk, a loud creaking caught my attention.

“No!” I screamed, watching the shelves come crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

This had been the way of the week. Standing by, watching the poltergeist wreak havoc on my chambers, powerless to stop his antics. Within the short space of a week Peeves had turned my life upside down. Every day I awoke to each room in my quarters being completely trashed by the ghost. My clothes were piled high, the empty drawers dumped beside them, class assignments and student essays lay scattered across the floor, he had even taken to raiding my bathroom cupboards, squeezing out the contents of every bottle he came across, smearing it over the floor, walls and mirrors.

Despite my efforts to clean up after him, I soon realised it was a futile task. No matter how quickly I cleaned up one mess, Peeves had already created three more. It was halfway through the week when I realised it would be easier to live with the mess for the next two and a half weeks. Paying my dues turned out to be a lot messier than I had anticipated.

Week 3

The penultimate week took a different toll than the others. I saw Peeves a lot more than he had previously allowed; choosing to take to his physical form and follow me around the castle grounds.

He whispered nonsense in my ear, spoke over me while I taught, interrupted my conversations with my colleagues and worst of all he sang. Day and night, Peeves belted out a badly pitched tune, throwing in the occasional made-up limerick to just to taunt me.

Last night was a particularly difficult night. Somehow Peeves had gathered every radio, gramophone and record player from around the school and scattered them throughout my bedroom. Dozens of different melodies blasted through the speakers, all while Peeves sung along to songs that he never even knew the words to.

My three-day migraine turning into four, I was surviving purely off of caffeine and sheer will power at this point. I hadn’t had a minute of sleep since the week began, and I wasn’t sure I could cope with it any longer.

“Not long now, my dear.” McGonagall encouraged, gently patting my arm reassuringly.

Struggling to keep my eyes open, I took another large swig of my morning coffee. “How did you put up with it, Minerva. I don’t think I can last much longer; it’s beginning to affect my teaching.”

“I’m afraid it’s just one of those things we have all had to endure, my dear.”

“Not everybody.” I huffed, turning my narrowed gaze to the potions master at the far end of the table. “How did he get away with it? Why doesn’t Peeves make his life hell.”

“That would have to be a question you ask Severus.”

“Pft.” I grunted. “He’d never tell me. He hasn’t even spoke to me since I started here.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“No but…” I didn’t have any excuse.

“Then maybe now is your chance. Severus had never been one to make the first step, but I know he’d appreciate it if you paid him a visit.”

“Do you think he even remembers me? I mean it’s been years since we were in school and even then we didn’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“I’m positive he’ll remember you, Y/N, maybe more than you’d expect.”

“What’s that supposed to mea- “

Before I had a chance to finish my sentence, my mug of coffee flew from my grasp, levitating in the air tauntingly, before finally tipping its entire contents onto my lap.

I jumped from the table with a gasp, thanking Merlin the beverage had time to cool before I was scolded.

My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Not only was my dress and robes stained dark with coffee but the entire school had been privy to my torment.

I immediately ran from the Great Hall, hoping to escape any further public teasing from the spectre.

By the time the school day had come to an end my head was pounding from the lack of sleep, Peeves had interrupted all six of my classes today, and I had heard students whispering about the coffee fiasco on more than one occasion.

This was my breaking point.

Putting aside my shame and anxiety, I stormed down to the Dungeons to find out how Snape escaped the poltergeist’s awful induction. I was willing to beg on my knees if that is what it took.

“Y/N?” Snape breathed, seemingly shocked at the sight of me on his doorstep.

“I need your help Severus. Please.”

“Come in.” He granted, clearing his throat as he returned to the room.

I took a seat by the fire, waiting for him to join me. Instead, the potions professor paced around the room, never quite settling on one spot.

“It’s nice to see you again.” I called over my shoulder to him, hoping to break the ice.

“Is it?” He stumbled. “I mean; yes, it is.”

“It’s been a long time; I don’t even think I remember the last time we saw each other.”

“Graduation.” He said without hesitating. “I saw you afterwards in the Hog’s Head with Potter and Black.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” I chuckled nervously, wondering how he possibly remembered that when I couldn’t.

“I remember Sirius got so drunk that night, he ended up sleeping at mine and-

“What do you want, Y/N.” Severus snapped, his entire demeanour changing as he made his way to stand in front of me.

“I need your help.” I repeated.

“With the Poltergeist I presume.”

I nodded simply in response, suddenly understanding why the students found him so intimidating.

He had changed a lot since school. He was no longer the scrawny little teenager whose clothes never quite fit. He was a man now, tall and built out. His clothes fit him perfectly, they even showcased the outline of a bicep on either arm. His voice was like velvet, deep and rich, and it hit my ear in exactly the right way. His face, while no longer youthful, suited the aged lines etched into his forehead. His eyes had always been my favourite though; dark as the night sky and just as mysterious. I never could bare the intensity of his gaze and experiencing it now made me feel just like that awkward 14-year-old again.

“Peeves is not one to be stopped. With exception of Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron he listens to nobody. A deal was struct with a previous headmaster to allow the spectre to have his fun for one month, after which he is not to intervene with the professors to ensure the sanctity of the school and the students education.”

“But he never tormented you.” I whispered, hoping to gain some more insight.

“I cannot help you.” Snape’s eyes saddened.

“Why not? Is it because we were never friends in school? I tried to talk to you Severus, I did, but you just never seemed interested, I- ”

“I cannot help you, Y/N, because I did nothing to deter the ghost.” I opened my mouth to object, but Snape never gave me a chance to speak. “Peeves never haunted me because he never wanted to. It is my understanding that before the castle was built, these dungeons were the grounds in which Peeves was brutally murdered, more specifically, this very room. The ghost refuses to enter my chambers at all. I cannot help you, Y/N, because the only place in this whole castle where you can escape the phantom is here.”

My shoulders drooped at the revelation.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked like he really meant.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.” I puffed, trying not to sound as disappointed as I was. “I guess I’ll just have to suck it up like everyone else, I guess.”

Realising Snape probably didn’t want me to stick around for some unnecessary small talk, I immediately tried to make myself scarce. However, while heading out the door I was forced to stop in my tracks.

“Y/N.” Severus called after me.

God, I loved the way he said my name.

“If you ever need a break from him. To do your marking or even just to read for a bit, you can come here. There door is always open.”

“Thank you, Severus. I really appreciate that.” Though it wasn’t likely I’d ever take him up on the offer. Being in such close quarters with a man like him was bound to set me nerves on edge.

Week 4

With 7 days to go until my living hell was no more, I was sure I could power through the fourth and final week.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Day one came in full force. I awoke to the deafening sound of fireworks; fizzing and sparkling at the end of my bed. My heart pounded in my chest; the combination of insomnia, my high caffeine intake and now this, heart palpitations had become a regular occurrence for me.

Nevertheless, I promised myself to power through the day, trudging out of bed to start my classes. I waded through piles of my belongings; the floor hadn’t been visible for a fortnight now and I was almost starting to get used to it. As I made my way to the bathroom, I flicked my wand turning off each blaring radio as I went, hoping it would earn me a moments peace before I was thrust into the chaos of Hogwarts.

True disaster stuck, however, as I approached the hall leading to the bathroom. A sharp shiver shot through up my spine as something squelched underneath my bare feet. I closed my eyes, praying it wasn’t what I thought had happened.

My favourite sweater lay sodden in the middle of the hall, amidst a pair of drenched leggings and a stack of soggy assignments. The hall had been completely flood, the source of course being; the bathroom.

“Please please please.” I repeated to myself as I gripped the door handle tight.

Giving me no time at all to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable state of the bathroom, Peeves appeared on the other side of the door, yanking it open forcefully, taking me with it. I was instantly flung into the deep end, finding myself standing in the middle of a domestic rain shower. The shower, the sink AND the toilet all had water spurting out of them, drowning the room until I was in an ankle-deep puddle. Even the bath was overflowing, given that Peeves had deliberately put the stopper in it before choosing to burst the pipes.

I let out a long and frustrated scream.

“This has gone too far, Peeves!”

A far away laugh echoed through the chambers, he clearly got his desired reaction out of me.

While tempted to succumb to the ghosts’ antics; ready to ball myself on the floor and cry it out. I remembered I did have one other option.

No longer possessing a sense of shame I trudged my way through the castle halls wearing only my saturated silk pyjama set and a pair of waterlogged fluffy bunny slippers. My hair clung to the side of my face in strands of tangled curls, the wet ends dripping onto the floor behind me as I walked.

“Please don’t say no to this.” Were the first words out my mouth when Snape opened his door to me.

“Alright.” He answered without question.

“Can I stay with you.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll just be for the week and I can sleep on the couch, or even on the floor but at least I’ll sleep. And I’ll have to use your shower too, as you can probably tell my bathroom is currently incapacitated. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible, and I’ll literally owe you the biggest- Wait, what did you just say?”

“I said okay, Y/N.” It was clear the potions master was struggling not to roll his eyes at me forcing him to repeat himself.

“…But why?”

“I’m not quite as unaccommodating as people seem to assume. I’ve witnessed how much you have struggled these past three weeks. And I know, if you’ve shown up here begging for my help, it must be bad. So okay, you can stay for the week. But be warned, there will be some ground rules.”

“Oh My God, Severus I could kiss you right now. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

If he were anyone else, I’d have definitely thrown myself at them, crushing their torso to show my sheer gratitude. With Severus though, I knew he was not one for physical forms of affection, and given that I was soaked to the bone I realised it wouldn’t be wise to subject my saviour to my same fate.

“We’ll discuss my stipulations after dinner this evening. Now you best hurry up and take a shower if you want to make it in time for your first lesson of the day.”

As I sprinted to his bathroom, I could have sworn I spotted a small smirk tugging at the corner of Snape’s lips.

He really wasn’t as grouchy as he let on.

[jamesunderwater]

Coming of Age Era

rated G - 1.3k words - birthday fluff - written for @jilymicrofics January 30th prompt "narrative" (but then I went over 1k and also really only used the concept of a narrative 😁 @jilymicro-oops <3)

---

“What’s this?” Lily glanced between James and the card he’d just conspicuously dropped onto her Transfiguration essay. 

He seemed to be…dancing, almost, the tips of his shoes tapping softly against the library’s stone floor as he hopped from one foot to the other. She noticed the absence of his fingers, usually fidgeting in one way or another, and realized he was holding both hands behind his back. “Just open it,” James told her, but Lily huffed in reply.

“I’m not falling for whatever little scheme—”

James rolled his head so far backwards Lily spontaneously thought of Nearly-Headless Nick. “Evans, please, when was the last time—?”

She sat up straighter in her chair. “Five weeks and three days.”

“What?” His shoulders fell and he’d stopped his footwork altogether. 

“The last time you pulled one of your pranks. That’s what you were going to ask me, hm? Well, it’s been five weeks and three days, which isn’t nearly long enough to build any sort of confidence in your so-called ‘Coming of Age Era’ — which, by the way, I really don’t think Remus explained that genre to you well enough.”

James shoved something small into his pocket and folded his arms across his chest, his shoulder muscles stretching the fabric of his button down ever so slightly. “Five weeks is a century, Evans, and the whole point of a Coming of Age story is for the main character to…you know, falter here and there. If I don’t slip up then what am I even maturing out of?”

Lily stared at him blankly for a moment, lips fallen apart. “See,” she blinked and shook her head once, “this is what I mean about Remus having explained it wrong.”

“How?” James demanded, repositioning his stance as though to literally stand his ground and restating, “I’m in my Coming of Age Era — I’m…maturing, growing up, becoming—” He stopped himself short.

She lifted a brow at him. “What? A man?” Lily snorted at the thought, prompting a few nearby students to turn their way. “Right, Potter, that’s not a Coming of Age story.”

James rolled his hand in the air, prompting her to continue. “Enlighten me, then.”

The vague memory of her unfinished Transfiguration essay flitted across the back of Lily’s mind, but some things were more important — winning an argument with James Potter chief among them. “A Coming of Age story is about something that happens to the main character which forces them to grow up, sometimes before they should have had to, often in a way that is true for all people, yet still heartbreaking. It’s about the loss of innocence — something I’m not sure you ever had in the first place,” she added with a sideways glance. “And, sure, growth and maturity are a part of it, but it’s deeper than just…choosing not to play so many stupid pranks.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment. “Who says I’m not maturing in deeper ways than that?” he asked, holding her gaze with a sincerity Lily hadn’t expected. 

She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. “Well—”

“Open the card, Evans.”

Lily looked down at the envelope, of which she’d forgotten the existence. Her first and last name were written across the front in a font that parodied calligraphy and still managed to retain key features of James’s usual penmanship — the lack of a dot above the lowercase I; the lowercase A written in such a rush it better resembled an O; the end of the S slashing backwards in a flourishing underline. Her face heated, realizing what it must be.

She glanced up at him just once as she tore the seal open and pulled out a sparkling card. On the front was a stunning image of the night sky when all the stars could be seen, magic making each one glint and twinkle, so it seemed as though Lily were truly holding the glittering darkened sky in miniature. A constellation of stars stood out, shining brighter than the rest. Lily pulled her head back and squinted to find it was in the shape of a lily flower. 

When she tried to clear her throat it came out as more of a squeak. She licked her parched lips, distinctly avoided James’s gaze, and opened the card. 

Evans — 

I know this card is a few days late. I’m sorry for that. Though, I don’t think the date I give this to you matters all that much. The whole point of it was to say… 

You shine brighter than all the rest, Lily Evans. Every day of the year.

Happy belated birthday.

—James

Lily blinked at the message scrawled in James’s familiar text, tried rereading it through hazy vision. Her mind and everything around her seemed to be going fuzzy. 

“I had…something else,” she heard him say through the sound of her heart hammering in her ears. “But, I think—maybe another time.” 

“What?” Lily’s eyes flicked up to his face, discovering splotches of red on his neck, the closest to blushing his complexion allowed. The sight of it made her own face burn hotter than it already had been, and she knew her light skin must be blooming with a bright blush. “Well, wait,” she said, curiosity pulling her out of her fog. “You can’t do that.”

James chuckled, grinning brightly. “No?”

Lily huffed. “No. It’s…rude.”

“Rude? I’m simply extending your birthday celebration.” Something in his cheeky smile drew her to her feet, her chair scraping across the floor, and how his smile then widened had her stepping around the table and into his orbit. James blinked down at her. “Are you…threatening me, Evans? After I’ve just made you a birthday card and gotten you a gift?”

“And withheld said gift,” she said, crossing her arms.

“As is my right.”

“Your…your— Weren’t you just going on about maturing?”

His eyes danced over her face, a twinkle in them that reminded her of the card he’d made her from magic. She shuffled her feet to distract from the swirling in her stomach. “Seems to me you’re the one who needs growing up a bit here, Evans. Seventeen’s a good year for a Coming of Age story. I’ve faith in you.” He patted the side of her arm and Lily wanted to scream in a variety of ways.

“You’re sixteen,” she replied lamely.

“Eh, some of us start off earlier than others.”

She blinked at him, mind spinning between thoughts on the concept of fairness, comebacks that couldn't be turned against her, the current proximity of her face to his, and you shine brighter than all the rest. Mostly it was just that last one, playing like a melody on repeat, a jingle intent on driving her mad.

“You're really not going to give me my gift?” Lily crossed her arms, leaning her hips back against the desk. 

James stepped forward boldly, removing the space she'd created between them. “Alright, Evans.” He pulled a small box from his trousers pocket. “Since you haven't yet learned the virtue of patience.” He held out the box and, after staring at him a moment, Lily opened her palm. He placed the box carefully upon it. With the slightest smirk he learned toward her, bowing his head toward her cheek as though to kiss it. Lily stopped breathing. When he whispered, “Happy birthday, Evans,” she was sure she felt the brush of his lips on her skin.

In the next heartbeat he was gone, taking long backwards steps towards the library’s exit.

“What?” Lily gaped at him. His grin was touching the corners of his eyes, hands shoved in his pockets, a similar excitement to his energy as when he'd first approached her. Her eyes fell to the box and she called after him, “How do I know this isn't a trick?” 

James shrugged as his back hit the library door. “Guess you'll just have to believe in my growth.”

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