#so it's just a black cauldron mug now

[aevyk-ing]

Me: (has a passionate discourse with my uncle about how offended I was after discovering what kind of person JKR is and why I can't enjoy anything HP now).

Aunt: (buys me a Hogwarts mug.)

[grandlinedreams]

Hi hello unplanned acotar drabble bc I'm exhausted 'n why not use the 'can't sleep' trope? I don't remember if coffee is a thing in acotar but it is now

warnings: uhh poor sleeping habits, tiny touch of angst, reader is Made fae/archeron sibling, fluff

You haven't been sleeping well.

Correction ㅡ you're not sure if you've ever slept well in your life, but you've been sleeping worse as of late.

As in not at all.

Not for lack of trying, quiet plea to Madja for a tonic or tips to help you sleep ㅡ all to no avail. And so you spend most nights wide awake, listening to the soft creak of the other inhabitants and staring up at the ceiling.

It isn't your favorite way to spend so much time given that there's only so much you can think of before you're sinking back into thoughts you've tried so hard to let go of. They cling to you like a second skin, seep and chill your bones like black, brackish water, like ㅡ

You quickly find other ways to occupy your time. Velaris' night sky is beautiful, patchwork blanket of deep blue with silver pinprick stars that you count, try to match constellations with ones you know, catalogued in worn paper from another lifetime. (That often spirals too.)

Perhaps the Cauldron feels bad for what has been done to you, or perhaps it's simply the house taking pity on you ㅡ but as of late when you drag yourself from your room and downstairs, there is a mug of warmth waiting for you.

Steam always curls from the top of it, dark liquid that eddies with just enough cream and sugar to make it pleasant. It chases away the sticky darkness of your thoughts, replaces it with a warmth that spirals from the inside out ㅡ a comfort, when so many things as of late have not been.

With that unspoken charm of warm ceramic at your fingers, you're more content to whittle the hours away in silence. You pretend that you've just woken up when someone else stirs ㅡ often times it's Nesta, who watches you for so long that you wonder if she knows. (She doesn't ask, and you don't tell. Maybe she doesn't have to, the other side of your coin.)

Tonight, however, is different.

Tonight you find yourself with an entirely different sort of company ㅡ in the form of sleek, wisps of shadow ㅡ alive, whirling gently against your cheek, your hair, your hands. And then they're gone, back to their master ㅡ who appears shortly after.

Azriel doesn't announce his presence, but he doesn't have to. You've gotten used to the fact that you can hear him now, can hear most everything ㅡ aware of more than you ever used to be.

All you do is allow the slide of your eyes over his face, his wings, his hands ㅡ and then away. "Good morning."

A flicker of amusement in the gleam of his eyes, the soft huff of air. "It's two in the morning."

You remain steadfast. "Still morning."

He doesn't push further as he approaches, and you can feel his eyes on you ㅡ the clothing you're still getting used to, a subtle opulence that still makes you feel untethered at times ㅡ and the mug nestled between your hands.

"Can't sleep?"

It's an innocent question, a gentle probe at where you are in terms of emotion ㅡ eggshell floor that tends to be how everyone walks around you, Nesta, and Elain as of late.

You shrug. "Something like that." You lapse into silence, and it's Azriel is turning to leave (presumably) that you speak. "I have...strange dreams. And if it isn't that, it's nightmares. So I figure thisㅡ" You gesture, "is better than either of those."

Azriel is silent long enough that you're beginning to feel stupid for saying anything ㅡ and then he says quietly, "May I show you something?"

The something ends up being the offer of taking you for a flight ㅡ only after Azriel has made sure that you're appropriately bundled before he lifts you into his arms. His scent that makes you think of pine and hoarfrost is almost overwhelming ㅡ but his wings are snapping out before you can change your mind, and then you're airborne.

This is so much different than what Feyre had called winnowing ㅡ wind whips at your face and hair, tangling it as you tuck yourself tighter against Azriel's chest. His grip is firm on you, not so much as to hurt or be inappropriate, but enough that you don't feel as though he's going to drop you.

The stars gleam above you, enticing you to look up at them ㅡ and with your face tucked so close to his neck, Azriel doesn't struggle to hear you when you speak.

"I managed to save some of the star charts in my father's office when we..." You trail off for a moment, uncertain of what all he knows from Feyre ㅡ and you point at the glittering cosmos above. "It looks the same."

"Is that a bad thing?"

You press your face against his shoulder, inhaling his pine scent. "No."

Azriel is quiet as he spares a glance at you. You're so very different than your sisters ㅡ not quite as wild as Feyre, nor as angry as Nesta, nor as quiet as Elain. He wishes he could say he doesn't remember much of watching each of you be tossed into the Cauldron ㅡ but he does, everything whispered to him by his shadows.

That you'd come out of it glowing ㅡ briefly, just enough to give the impression of a star, just like the ones above.

"Azriel?" Your call makes him look down, the flick of his eyes over the delicate arch of your ears, the reflection of starlight in your eyes that makes the beat of his wings falter for a brief second. "Will this get easier?"

He doesn't have to ask you what you mean. He could lie to you, placate you with empty words ㅡ but he can't bring himself to do that. So he tightens his grip just a little, tucks you a little firmer to him. "I hope so."

[ghostofskywalker]

hi @xxxtwilightaxelxxx! i got your request and i think it might be a little too large of an idea to fit in <400 words, so i did a little scene for the witch mug idea because i loved it!! i want to make sure the other requests in my inbox also get done, but if i have time i might do the other part of your request for you too :)

It started as a joke. 

When you saw the mug among the others at the store, you laughed. The cauldron shaped black ceramic had green bubbles painted along the side, as if the concoctions inside were spilling over the rim. Witches’ Brew was written on it in curling white typeface, and you couldn’t resist the urge to roll your eyes a little. Despite having dated a witch for several months now, you hadn’t once seen her use a cauldron, and she certainly hasn’t asked you to pick up any eye of newt on any of your grocery runs. 

Right before you were about to check out, you passed the halloween aisle again, and the mug once again caught your eye. And even thought it had many a glaring inaccuracy and the fact that you weren’t sure how it would be received when you gifted it to your girlfriend, you pulled the second to last one off the shelf and placed it gently in your cart. 

“Really?” Wanda’s eyebrows were halfway up her forehead when you presented the gift to her, having placed an orange bow on it and filled it with some of her favorite candy. “You actually spent money on this?” 

“What?” you asked, unable to keep a smile from creeping up on your lips. “I thought it was cute.” 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 

“If you don’t want it, I can see if Tony-” 

“No,” Wanda said suddenly, pulling the mug closer to her chest. “I’ll keep it.”

You laughed, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her lips. “If you need me to pick up some potion ingredients next time I go to the grocery store, just let me know.” 

She rolled her eyes, but leaned in to return the kiss anyway. 

[black-amortentia]

Despite the Darkness | Lights - Snolidays 2023

Severus Snape x Professor!Reader | Warnings: Secret relationship, hints of seasonal depression, just fluff, barely proofread so please excuse mistakes!

This is my story for week two "Lights" of Snolidays 2023! Like last week, I decided to take all the prompts together and use them to inspire one little story. This is a follow up to my story for Week One, and I think the next two weeks will all follow the same narrative.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

--

Winter days grew shorter and shorter, and it seemed like you spent less and less time with the warmth of the sun. Darkness rarely bothered you, but sometimes it just felt like too much. Tonight was one of those nights, you thought, alone in your quarters.

Wand out, you conjured a string of tiny magical lights, threading it around the room. Meant to add a touch of cheer, the blinking lights only reminded you of the holiday blessings that seemed so far away. Standing back to admire your handiwork with the lights, you heaved a weary sigh.

"Something on your mind?" Severus drawled from the doorway.

You looked up, surprised by a visit from the potions master. He didn’t visit often, lest he be seen by one of the other professors. "No, just a little out of it. What do you need, Severus?"

His black cloak swirled around him as he stepped through the door, closing it behind him. "Just you."

You smiled at the softness that crept into this voice. Your Severus, not the man he still showed everyone else.

"What’s this?"

"Fairy lights." You shrugged. "Something to cheer me up."

Severus’s eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "I wasn’t aware you needed cheering up."

"Just in something of a mood. It’ll pass."

A shudder of hesitation ran through Severus, and then his hand clasped yours. Your heart skipped at his fingers around your skin. His other hand withdrew his wand and pointed it at the fireplace. The dying fire roared with new life, filling your office with light and heat.

"Oh! This should be warm now." You flicked your wand, and a small cauldron warming over the flames levitated from the fireplace to your desk. "I made hot cocoa. Do you want some?"

"Sure." Severus spoke as if he were indulging you, but you caught a spark in his eye. You always felt pride in your little victories of learning something he allowed himself to enjoy, even if he hid it well.

Cocoa in hand, the two of you sat in front of the hearth, backs against your desk. Wrapping your fingers around the warm mug, you took a sip of the cocoa. You scrunched up your nose, causing Severus to raise an eyebrow in amusement. He almost smiled, even.

"Missing something."

"Such as?"

"Cinnamon!" You grabbed a small pot of the spice and stirred a pinch in your mug.

Though Severus seemed unsure at first when you offered it to him, he followed your lead and added some to his own drink.

"Thank you for coming to Hogsmeade last week. I enjoyed having you there." You tilted your head, letting it rest on his shoulder."

He tensed, an automatic response, but then relaxed. His arm skated up your back, hand landing on your shoulder, fingertips gently squeezing. "I enjoyed seeing you smile, and knowing that I was cause. In part, at least."

You sat like that for a while, watching the fire, sipping cocoa. The rhythm of Severus’s breathing soothed you, his thumb stroking your arm. Finally, the cocoa was gone, and the feelings weighing on you were too heavy to ignore. Lifting your head from his shoulder, you looked at the man in front of you.

"Severus?"

He turned to look at you, your noses almost touching. "Yes?"

"Do you believe in miracles?"

"No."

The answer was quick, no hesitation.

You faltered. What had you expected? Some romantic words proclaiming you his miracle? Maybe.

Severus searched your eyes, his expression changing when he finds what he’s looking for. The words remained unspoken; they didn’t need to be said aloud. Severus couldn’t give you what you sought, not yet. Your eyes darted back to the fire, unable to meet his any longer.

Despite this, he wasn’t ready to let you go. His arm tightened around your shoulder, drawing you close.

"That does not mean," he began, the low timbre of his voice resonating through you. "That I intend to take the goodness in my life for granted."

He tilted your chin up with a single finger until your gaze met his. The fire cast flickering shadows across his face, but his eyes burned with an intensity all their own. They dropped briefly to your lips before returning to capture you in their depths.

Severus’s lips claimed yours, passionate and hungry as his fingertips traced your jaw. Your hand crept up his shoulder, inching into his hair. Severus leaned into you, meeting no resistance as he laid you down on the floor. You pulled him against you, his body covering yours.

Kisses trailed down your neck, breathy sighs drowning out the crackle of the fire. The flames painted your shadows on the walls as Severus chased away your cold and darkness with the warmth and light he showed no one else.

[bluegoblinzz]

Releasing the Gentle Beast

The trees were bare gaunt silhouettes in the night, each zig-zagging branch weakly reaching out into the forest path, as if to try and grab passerby’s. The sky was speckled with  stars just as the howling wind speckled the air in white freezing snowflakes, which reflected the silver light of the full moon. Arbor trudged through the thick powdery snow in the dark forest. He was panting from exhaustion, but could not stop shivering. His joints aches, his face was numb, and his armor was covered in the blood of the wendigo he slew along the way. 

After wandering through the night, he finally found what he had been searching for: a small wooden cabin nestled against the mountain-side, with smoke rising from the chimney, and a dim orange light within. There was absolutely no snow that surrounded it, and the closer he got to the cabin, the more the wind slowed down. Animal skulls and bones were hanging from the brim of the roof like lanterns before a festival. 

When he got to the door, he slammed his gauntlet on it a few times. He took off his helm, and attempted to scowl or to look scary. Anger bubbled within, but his face did not move, his lips curled downward and his eyebrows raised in an expression of fatigue. He tried to ready himself, to lift his sword, like he prepared, but he could not bring himself to do so, and simply stood by and waited. 

When the door opened he was hit with a wave of warmth, and relished it for a moment. An old woman with long grey hair and chestnut brown skin answered the door. She was wearing a red night gown and had a black crystal necklace on. 

“Oh no, darling… What happened to you?! Please, come inside, you must be so cold and tired.” She motioned for Arbor to come into the cabin, and feeling tired and defeated, he did so. His face and fingers burned as the warm air greeted him. He took off his armor and stretched, before flopping down into a dark green couch-chair, his legs and back crying with relief as he did. He stared off into space, not registering what he was staring at or what he should be doing. The woman shut the door, and hobbled over to the counter.

“Here, let me heat you up some tea.” She took out a small cauldron, poured water in it and threw in some ground up tea. She raised her thin and wrinkled hands over the cauldron. Green plasma rushed from her finger tips, swirled around the cauldron and heated the bottom of the pot until the water bubbled. Wrapping it in a thick cloth, she picked up the cauldron, and poured the tea through a strainer, into a mug. She then took out a small jar, took out a honey dipper from the jar, and drizzled golden honey into the tea. She hobbled back over to him. 

“Here you go, love.” 

Arbor took the mug into his hands, and warmed up his fingers, but did not take a sip of the tea. The woman pulled up a chair, and scooted in, leaning close to the knight as if he was about to tell her a story. 

“Now tell me,” she said, “what the hell were you thinking coming all this way in the middle of the night, in the peak of winter?!”

He stayed silent for a long time, attempting to gather his thoughts.

“Witch…” the knight whispered, “I beg you to please lift the curse you placed on me. It’s making me lash out at my fellow soldiers, lash out at my friends… It’s caused me so many sleepless nights… I’ve learned my lesson. Please end my pain.” 

“Oh darling,” the witch cooed, stroking Arbor’s messy hair, “I didn’t give you a curse, I gave you a spirit. Were you trying to suppress it?”

“Curse or spirit, I don’t care!” he yelled at the ground. “I want it gone!” Tears streamed down his face and he began shaking as he heaved in sobs.

“Oh no, it’s okay… shhh it’s okay… I can help you now, I promise.” She wiped the tears away from the knight’s face, and then lifted his chin so he would meet her gaze. Arbor felt his shoulders settle with comfort, but also a twinge of fear in his stomach. This was the woman who ruined his life, and could easily do it again. She had the means to harm him and he wanted to get back at her for causing him pain, but he was too tired to do so, and also had not had the same attention and felt the same kind of love in so long. He felt like he was going to be taken care of. Some distant part of him told him everything would be okay. 

“You’re going… to get rid of it?” he asked. 

“I’m going to help you,” the witch insisted. “Everything’s gonna be okay, okay? You don’t need to worry anymore.” 

Arbor nodded slowly, sniffling, and wiping away some remaining tears. 

“Now, I can… make it come out, but you need to relax a bit first, mellow out. Why don’t you drink some of your tea?” 

The knight looked down at his mug and looked back at the witch. 

“How do I know that you didn’t… do anything to this?” 

“Oh, you’ve insulted me now,” she scoffed. “I’m not that rude, I have manners. Besides, if I wanted to kill you or to drug you, I have other spells for that.” 

Arbor paused for a moment, his eyes widening with surprise, unsure of how to react to what the witch had said. He looked down at his mug again and frowned. 

“It’s just camomile tea with a bit of honey.”

“You… you know what that would do to me, right?!” Arbor said, his jaw tightening and his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Well, camomile tea calms you and-“

“No, I mean the honey!” 

The witch tilted her head for a moment, studying Arbors face before her eyes lit up with realization and surprise. 

“You mean you’ve been suppressing it so much that just a little honey makes it come out?” 

The knight turned his head away. He felt his cheeks burn, but this time it wasn’t due to the warmth of the room. 

“It’s… it’s getting worse,” he whined, his voice shaking again. “The curse intensifies no matter what I do. I spend most of my time every day suppressing it.” 

“That’s not good, you shouldn’t do that.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?!”

“Listen…” the witch whispered. “I can help you. I can end your ‘curse’ as you say… but you need to drink your tea, and accept what happens.”

“But it’ll take control and-“ 

“It won’t hurt you, and it won’t hurt me,” the witch stated. “When it does come out, I can help you quell your anger.” 

Arbor’s first instincts told him she was lying, but he remembered what she had said, that she didn’t need trickery to kill him. He knew this to be true as he had seen her abilities before. And also: what other choice did he have? He couldn’t just get up and leave. 

He sat with the mug between his hands for a very long time, just staring at the tea. The witch sat back, waiting for him to say something, or to drink the tea. After a few minutes of just sitting, breathing, and thinking, he had calmed down. There was still dread, fear, sadness and anger within him, but they were all more passive, a dwelling cloud in the back of his mind, instead of a raging storm. 

“I’m still not sure,” he mumbled. “that everything will be okay… I came here to fight. I didn’t expect you to… be so agreeable, so kind. It’s too easy…”

“The only one making it hard is you,” the witch said with a shrug. “You wanted to fight me, you’re fighting the people around you, you’re fighting yourself… Maybe for now you should stop fighting.”

Stop fighting, he thought. He realized he didn’t know how to do that. If he wanted something to be a certain he had to fight for it. How would it be possible to have it any other way? If he wants a monster to stop attacking his people, he fights the monster. If the king turns out to be a tyrant, one would have to fight the king. If a curse is eating him from the insides… wouldn’t he need to fight the curse? 

Surrender, he thought. I need to surrender if I want to survive. 

He brought the mug up toward his face. There was a flowery and a sweet scent to the golden tea. Slowly he brought it to his lips, and took a sip. The flavor of the camomile was pleasant and the honey was… otherworldly. His sip turned into a gulp, and he shut his eyes savoring the flavor, the way it warmed him up on its way down, and the way the tea immediately made him feel settled, tension leaving his shoulders and dread leaving his gut. 

But as he settled down, anxiety came back to punch him in the stomach. His teeth ached, and his nose twitched, and his instinct was to push back, to fight off this magical force, but as he did, he noticed his dread returning, creeping up on him once again, so he took another sip of tea, and sat back, accepting what was happening. 

The pain in his teeth went away as soon as he settled down, and was replaced with a pleasant tickling feeling in his gums. He shut his eyes and opened his mouth slightly, feeling his teeth with his tongue, and noticing that his canines were getting a sharper and sharper. That tickling sensation continued in his nose. His nostrils flared, and he felt his nose shifting and pushing upward slightly, becoming big and round. When he opened his eyes, he could see his nose in the center of his vision, and saw it had become wet and black. The witch smiled at the knight. 

“How do you feel?” she asked. Arbor thought for a moment. He crossed his eyes to look at his new nose, and gently placed two fingers over it. There was a twinge of amusement within him when he did so. 

“I feel… happy?” he mumbled. He looked up at the witch again. “What did you do? I don’t feel rage like I normally do.”

“Nothing,” the witch said, beaming. “What you feel now is all you! You stopped fighting it.” 

Arbor took another sip of his tea. The warmth pervaded his body and his muscles melted. Still he furrowed his brow, trying to process his situation. The ‘curse’ was revealing itself once more, but without its usual pain, how was this possible? 

“I’m a monster,” he mumbled. “Why am I happy?” 

“You’re not a monster. You’re you!” 

“I’m… me…” Arbor thought about that for a moment. He didn’t feel like himself when he was changing like this, but he realized he didn’t know the last time he did feel like himself. Was he ‘himself’ when he was a knight, acting all serious? Was he ‘himself’ when he was being overly polite around his family? … Was he ‘himself’ whenever he tried to suppress something within him? He thought the beast within him, this ‘curse,’ was ugly, and vicious… but now he wasn’t so sure. 

He took another sip of his tea, and shut his eyes, a smile creeping up on his face. A warm fuzzy sensation emerged in his ears, feeling as if he had put on new earmuffs. This same sensation spread around his head, surrounded his face, his chin, and covered his nape, as if he had put on a warm hood. He lied there for a moment, allowing himself long needed rest, listening to the crackling of the fireplace, and the distant howl of wind outside. As he slowly breathed in and out, he caught a whiff of something in the room. He lifted his head slightly, and with his eyes still closed, he sniffed a couple of times, taking in the wonderful scent. His eyes shot opened. 

“Honey,” he mumbled. The witch laughed. 

“Of course darling, you can have as much as you want.” She stood up and hobbled over to the counter again, and picked up the entire jar of honey, bringing it back to Arbor. The expression on his face was as if she had handed him bars of solid gold. His ears twitched, which was not a sensation he was used to, and a rumbling growl came from deep in his chest. 

“It’s no problem, really,” She assured him. “I can always find more.” Arbor popped off the lid of the jar, took out the honey dipper, sticking it in his mouth like a lollipop. The flavor brought him euphoria and satisfaction like that of a child receiving a gift. This was a much greater reward than any bounty he had received for quests. Eager to have more, he stuck his entire hand in the jar, pulling out a glob of honey, and sticking it in his mouth, licking the excess off of his fingers and palms.  

As he ate, he felt his bear spirit revealing itself even more; his mind felt clearer and his thoughts felt lighter, and the physical changes continued as well. His palms darkened, the skin on each palm becoming rough but soft, until black paw-pads formed on each palm. The warm and fuzzy feeling that surrounded his head emerged on the back of his hands, where dark hairs pricked the surface of his skin and grew longer and longer, and then thicker and thicker, until his hands and wrists were covered in shaggy brown fur. Each of his nails grew long, and appeared to be growing grimy and bruised at first, until each nail was completely black and shiny. His nails continued growing until each one was thick and sharp. 

The warmth and fuzziness began to emerge on his face as well, his eyebrows thickening and new dark brown fur spreading across his forehead, around his eyes, and on the sides of his face.  The sticky sensation of honey on his face soon dissolved as new golden hairs sprouted around his mouth and beneath his nose, and thickened out until his face was completely covered in fur. 

His nose twitched causing him to sniff the honey once more, his stomach growling and begging for more. He took another glob of honey and ate some more, except this time, as he ate, he felt his jaw expand, and stretch forward his nose becoming more noticeable in his vision. It felt strange, as there was a lot more space in his mouth, his tongue not resting in the same place and in the same way as it used to. 

“See?” the witch said. “All this time and you just wanted some more honey. You’re not a monster.” 

“Grooawr?” Arbor asked, raising his eyebrows. He felt happy, calm, and comfortable with himself for the first time in a while, but he didn’t know how that could be. Was it really that easy?

“Here, have a look at yourself.” The witch took a small hand-held mirror off of her vanity and handed it to the bear.  He was shocked, at first, at how much he had changed. His face somewhat resembled that of a man, but it had the features of a bear. His head was round and chubby, his face was covered in fur, and his nose and mouth protruded forward into a muzzle, one that was a bit more snub than the muzzle of an actual bear. As he stared into his reflection: is big round black funny nose, his soft brown eyes, his little fluffy ears… he felt a deep instinctive recognition of himself: a feeling of “yes, this is who I am.” He let out a low comfortable growl, the sides of his mouth curling into a smile. He looked away from the mirror and smiled at the witch. He attempted to tell her “thank you,” but find he couldn’t form words anymore. 

“Ruuuhhrgh,” he grumbled. The witch grumbled. 

“I can’t understand what you’re saying, but I’m glad you’re feeling better!” She booped Arbor on the nose, causing him to exhale with amusement. 

“And that’s only the beginning! Come with me.” The witch stood up, and slowly headed toward the door.

“Grurr?” Arbor asked, raising one eyebrow. What was going to happen now? He was reluctant to stand up and go outside, leaving the warm room and leaving his honey behind, but he was curious as to what the witch wanted to show him. Slowly, he stood and sluggishly wandered out of the cabin. 

The witch stood outside the door, and smiled at Arbor, before gesturing to the full moon. Arbor looked up, and tilted his head wondering what was so special. He had seen many full moons throughout his life, and sure, it was pretty, but there wasn’t anything special about this one.

“The full moon is a time for release, a time for self acceptance and forgiveness.” The witch spoke in a hushed voice, as if telling a secret, or as if trying not to disturb a sacred space. 

“It is when the spirit of the moon is closest to us, and when you can speak to Her. You have a powerful spirit, so now She can give you good guidance.” 

Arbor looked back at the witch and up at the moon, skeptical of what she was saying. He didn’t hear any great spirit. He saw a bright and beautiful moon, but he did not see anything sacred about it, nothing that was like the magic that he had seen and felt. 

“Let Her know your secrets,” the witch said. “Open your heart to Her, and She will guide you. She will set your spirit free.” 

Arbor’s eyes watered as he looked up at the moon. He didn’t know what he needed to say, but in that moment, he realized there was a lot of words he held back, a lot he had pent up. He wasn’t sure if the moon would actually be listening to him, but he took comfort in the idea that the moon was there for him. So he shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. Before looking up at the moon once more. 

“Grurroawr… awroaghrawrug…” When he spoke he noticed the words he tried saying out loud merely came out as incomprehensible growls. Still, the words he spoke had meaning to him as he spoke the prayer in his head at the same time. So he continued to speak, pretending he was making sense, but knowing that he would be heard if he prayed in his mind and in his heart. 

“Fair moon,” he had said, “I don’t think people around me know I’m afraid…” 

He paused, and looked down at the dirt for a moment before looking back up and continuing to pray.

“But no one is supposed to know, are they? I’m supposed to be strong… but I’m not. I feel so scared and weak and angry. I want to feel okay, and now I do feel okay in this form, but if this is who I am then I must hide… people who loved me before will not love me now.”

The light of the full moon felt warmer as he spoke, as if it was drawing nearer to him. Staring into the moonlight made him feel as if he was staring into the face of a loved one, as if they were pulling him into an embrace, and the moment this spiritual embrace was complete, the moment he felt his soul wrapped in the arms of the moon, Arbor exhaled a shaky breath and shut his eyes. Tears streamed down his face. He felt so close to Her, yet so far from Her. He was grateful that She was there in that moment, but wanted to be even closer. He gritted his teeth, and then let out a roar, a longing call to the moon. 

Arbor opened his eyes once more, and stared at Her, appreciating Her glow, Her gentle beams, and the presence of Her spirit. Her light made him feel okay. It made him feel protected. In that moment, it even made him feel brave. He knew the longer he stared at it, the longer he would feel okay, the more he would feel whole. 

As he stared for longer, his spirit began to show itself even more. The warm and fuzzy feeling enveloped his entire body, and brown fur grew all over his arms and his back, golden-yellow fur growing on his belly. His entire head expanded slightly but his neck grew short, leaving little space between his head and shoulders. The thick layer of shaggy fur all over his body felt like he was wrapped up in a soft blanket, and protected him from the chilling air outside.  The strength the moon gave him also manifested itself in physical strength, all of his muscles tensing up and then gaining mass, making his clothes a bit tight on him. There was a soft feeling in his lower back, and when he focused his attention there, he noticed a tiny nub tail wagging back and forth. He smiled slightly at this. 

The last of the changes, for the moment, were similar changes happening to his feet as the ones that happened to his hands: where soft pads formed on his soles, and his nails thickened and sharpened into claws. He sighed with relief, having a sense of wholeness and completeness as he had fully changed, that sigh bringing about a sense of deep calm. He was now a bear, but also still humanoid, still standing on two legs, not a complete animal.

“Allow yourself the time you need to grow,” the witch said. “Allow yourself to take in the moon’s advice with grace. And allow yourself to feel peaceful and calm for this moment.” 

Arbor let out a growl under his breath and put on a gentle smile as he continued staring up at the moon. 

“And when you’re ready, you may give thanks to the moon, for the help and guidance She has given you.” 

“Rrhekh roo…” Arbor mumbled. Aside from the thanks he gave out loud, Arbor made sure to thank the moon over and over in his heart, letting Her know how much She helped him in that moment. 

“Now, I can bring you into a deeper state of calm,” the witch said. Her voice was now above a whisper, speaking to Arbor now as opposed to guiding him through his interaction with the moon. Arbor was shocked by what she said. How could he be more calm than he was right now? He felt more at peace and more secure than he had ever felt. The idea of becoming even more calm… it intrigued him.

“You said that you need sleep, that you haven’t slept in days. I can eventually help you reach that deep sleep… but you will need to fully embrace your spirit. You will need to go deep into trance, and you will need to become one with it, ceding your humanity. May I help you reach this state? Are you comfortable with this idea?” 

Going deep into trance, and becoming one with his spirit didn’t sound too bad, but Arbor wasn’t sure what ‘ceding humanity’ would entail. Would that mean he would let go of his thoughts? Would it mean he would just be an animal? Would “ceding humanity” lead to him giving into whatever animalistic urges he had? After his transformation and his interaction with the moon, he didn’t mind that anymore. The ‘beast’ he had become was gentle. Those fits of rage merely happened because he tried to hide the beast away. If it meant being able to be in the best state of mind possible, he realized he would gladly pay whatever price there was. 

Still staring up at the moon, Arbor gave a slow nod. 

“Very good,” the witch whispered. “Keep staring at the moon and focus on my words. Just notice the state you are in right now. Notice how calm, how happy the moon made you feel.”

Arbor took a moment to mentally scan through his body. For one thing: he felt different from normal due to this new form, but every once of his muscles were sluggish, and he was enveloped in a comforting warmth. With each inhale he felt weightless, and with each exhale, he felt as if he would sink into the ground. 

“Now, I want you to imagine with each breath you take, you are taking in more of the moon’s gentle light, taking your current state and amplifying it. You now feel twice as calm… four times as calm… eight times… sixteen…”

Each breath Arbor took made him feel sleepier, warmer and heavier. He began to sway on his feet, as it became harder to stand up straight. He was intent to stay focused on the moon, but his eyelids grew heavy and droopy, beginning to obscure his gaze from Her. His mouth fell open as his jaw muscles relaxed. 

“Drop.”

Arbor fell to his knees and found he couldn’t move from that position. He lifted his head to continue gazing at the moon, his eyes widening for a second with surprise at his fall. 

“Continue breathing, and continue taking in the moonlight, that warm, and peaceful, and calming energy… growing hundreds of times more calm than you were before, so calm that you find you are falling asleep, your thoughts growing quieter, and quieter.” 

Arbor’s eyelids gently fell closed. All of his thoughts were gone, as he had fallen into that first stage of sleep, between wakefulness and dreams, when there was awareness and consciousness, but no sense of self. 

“And with your next inhale, you find some of your drowsiness begins to fade, however your mind remains in this dreamless slumber.” 

Arbor’s eyes opened again, without him even deciding to. At that moment he could not register where he was or what was happening. He did not panic at this because he just felt calm and happy. He didn’t know the name of the silver ball he was staring at, but he felt compelled to keep staring because it made him happy. 

“In your wakefulness now, you find you are incapable of thought… you take my words to heart but you cannot think words yourself. That’s because you are a bear. You may think about hunting, eating, and sleeping… But you cannot form thoughts on your own.” 

A deep growl lazily left his open mouth and he tilted his head, as new bear thoughts and instincts swirled and twisted in his mind, the desire to eat fish and honey, the desire to find a cozy den… It was a confusing yet satisfying shift, his mind going from man to beast, from sharp to simple. 

“It feels so good to be a bear. You feel so big and powerful, so happy to be in the forest, your home. It feels so good to have one thing on your mind at a time, to not need to worry about the complex world around you. Just eat and sleep. Eat and sleep. Eat and sleep.” 

The moon’s light completely took over his vision, and his hearing was entirely filled with the witch’s mantra. The words themselves had no meaning to him, but each time she said “eat” or “sleep” the concepts of each of those actions themselves appeared in his mind, the prospect of them appealing to him, and the desire to do each one growing larger each time. 

“But as you are thinking about doing what bears do best… you remember you are Arbor. Arbor is a strong, brave, and powerful bear. You find that any differences between what you called ‘Arbor’ and what you called ‘the bear’ are slipping from your mind. Arbor is a bear. Arbor is brave. This spirit of a bear has always been Arbor as well. These two different identities are, and have always been, united as one soul.” 

Soon, Arbor’s memories of being a knight, his memories of the judgmental world he had lived in, his memories of fighting anger bubbling within him as he fought off the bear inside him, all of them faded to the background as if it were a dream. What was left in his mind was a certainty of who he was, and what he was, knowledge of a clear and simple life. He knew he was Arbor, Arbor knew he was a bear, and the bear knew he was happy. 

The witch stepped in front of the moon, blocking out the moonlight and smiling down at the bear. Arbor blinked, surprised at the way the moon was so suddenly obscured, unsure of where the pretty light had gone. 

“Oh darling,” the witch cooed. “You did so well. You changed beautifully.” She held the bear’s muzzle and stroked his fur. Arbor shut his eyes and let out a calm grumble. He didn’t know what was happening, but he could tell it felt good and that he felt loved. He nuzzled up against the witch for a moment as she continued stroking his fur. He finally let all his muscles completely relax, allowing the peaceful calm feeling to fully envelop him and his mind, and simply floating in his sea of thoughtlessness. 

This thoughtless calm state was broken as he felt something tough and sticky press up against his nose. He realized he must have drifted off into sleep after he had changed, but he couldn’t remember the moment he fell asleep. He opened his eyes, finding sunlight reflecting off of snow in the world around him, and the sky clear and blue.

“Time to get up, sleepyhead,” the witch said.  Arbor crossed his eyes to look at his nose, and gaze at whatever was pressed up against it. As a bear, he couldn’t identify what the object was, but it looked familiar. It was some kind of stick, with a ball attached to the end, and there was a substance covering the ball, the scent of which was easily identifiable. 

Honey!

The bear’s eyes widened, and he stayed completely still, except for his nub tail which was now wildly wagging. He wanted to grab the stick with his mouth, but he didn’t want to move his nose away from the honey and stop sniffing it. Before he could make a decision on what to do, the witch stepped backward, still pointing the stick at the bear.

“Awrruh?” he asked. He stood up, and took a few heavy strides toward the stick with the honey. The witch pointed it to his left and he turned his head that way to follow the stick. She pointed it to the right, and he turned his head again. She waved the stick in circles, and soon Arbor forgot about the original task, and just bobbed his head in circles as he followed the stick, mesmerized at the sight and by the smell of the honey. 

“Oh you silly old bear,” the witch chuckled. “You can’t get the honey off your mind, can you?”

“Urrgh...” Arbor grumbled. The more the witch spun the stick around, the more confused he became. 

“Your nose follows this dipper as if it is tied to it, as if there is an invisible thread pulling you toward it. In one moment I will put up my finger instead, and your nose will be drawn to that finger.” 

“Rurgh?” Arbor asked. He was attracted to the scent of honey, not an invisible thread. He didn’t believe what the witch said and continued focusing on the honey. But sure enough, when she put the honey dipper down and lifted her finger, the tip of his nose pointed toward her finger instead, unable to look away. She drew horizontal lines in the air, and Arbor shook his head back and forth. She drew vertical lines and Arbor nodded his head up and down. She drew more circles and he nodded his head in circles once again. His inability to look away, and the way his head moved on its own to follow her finger both amused him, and he enjoyed being puppeted in this way.

The witch turned around, still holding up her finger, and slowly headed back toward the house. Lazily he turned around, and walked toward the house, head empty, and not realizing what he was doing, but moving automatically, and instinctively. The witch looked over her shoulder, and cackled at his sluggish and brutish demeanor, satisfied with her work, despite the fact that, as she said before, he had done most of the work. Arbor had been holding himself back which made him angry and put him in pain. Letting himself go is what changed him. The witch’s guided hypnosis was nothing more than that: hypnosis. No magical spell or intrusive mind control. It wasn’t some elaborate spell. It was merely suggestion. 

When the two got inside, there was a cauldron bubbling with tea on the counter, but on the table in the middle of the room, there were two plates opposite each other, a platter of warm scones in the middle of them. Arbor walked in front of the nearest chair, and when the witch dropped her finger down, he dropped into a sitting position. The witch got tea from the cauldron and poured it into an old flowery teacup, handing it to him. He took a sip of it, before wincing and sticking his tongue out, fanning it with one of his paws. The witch chuckled. 

“Not used to spicy foods, huh? That’s my special chai tea. I put a hint of pepper in there too.” The bear held both of his hands out toward the pot of honey, but the witch wagged a finger at him. 

“No, no, no,” she said in a playful tone. “That’s not for you right now.” She took a scone from the platter and dropped it on his plate. She then booped him on the nose, drew her finger back and pointed it toward the scone on his plate. His nose followed her finger and then he focused on the scone on his plate. He bent over and took a big bite of it, before chewing it slowly. It was sweet, soft and buttery, and there was that unmistakable flavor in it. Arbor looked up at the witch with wide eyes, and the witch gave a knowing nod. The bear then bent down again and grabbed the rest of the scone with his mouth and chewed. once he was done chewing and swallowed the scone, he leaned toward the platter and grabbed another scone with his mouth. 

“I’m glad you like them,” the witch chirped. She sat down, and took a sip of her own tea, and a bite of her scone, watching as Arbor feasted on his. 

“I’ve been thinking about how you got here,” she said. “You were in pain for so long as you were afraid to just be you. It is in your best interest to stay in the forest, but that can get lonely, so I was wondering if you wanted to stay here with me.”

Arbor looked up at the witch and tilted his head. Her kindness showed no bounds. The night before he was so awful to her. He had come to her house originally with the intent to kill her! And now she was offering him space to live? He wasn’t sure how he felt, as he still didn’t know her that well. It wasn’t a distrust as much as it was a fear of feeling awkward, and not knowing how to interact. Just as quickly as these thoughts came, however, they slipped away, and a wave of bear-ish thoughtlessness washed over him. He wanted to find his own den and place to stay, but for now: a friend sounded nice. 

“Gruh!” he grunted, enthusiastically nodding his head up and down. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” the witch whispered, beaming. “There are so many beautiful sights I can show you, there’s a nice river right nearby for you to catch some fish. You can help me with my spells, we can bake together, there’s so much to do!” 

The two then ate in silence, Arbor eating a few more scones and the witch finishing her one scone and finishing up her tea. Once the two were done, the witch held up a bony finger, and the tip of the bear’s nose gravitated toward it. She drew a vertical line in the air a couple of times and Arbor nodded his head to follow. He didn’t mind at all, and he treated it as a silly game, trying to look away, but finding it satisfying, effortless, and natural to just follow. 

“That’s it, you silly old bear,” she cooed. “My bookshelf is a mess… Tomes are next to stories, and stories are next to grimoires, I can’t reach that high, and I’m too old to lift so many books. Can you organize my books by size please? Novels are the thinnest and grimoires are the thickest.” The witch wagged her finger up and down and Arbor found himself nodding to follow her finger.  Arbor let out a deep throaty laugh when he did. The human part of his mind that was left wanted to say that this wasn’t fair. Despite this, he found it amusing and would have helped her if she just asked.

“Good, now move along then.” 

In the following days, he continued working with her and spending time with her. Sometimes she would ask him to help him cook or gather ingredients for her spells. Other times he needed to fetch water, or lift something heavy that she couldn’t lift. In return, she would always pet him, comfort him, clean his fur, and feed him all the honey he wanted. It felt good to have that much kindness be shown to him, to feel loved and taken care of again. He couldn’t reliably identify his feelings anymore, but whatever he was feeling: it was good and he wanted to continue feeling that way. 

The witch would often hypnotize him before getting work done. He always helped her out willingly, but on occasion he was less upbeat when he wasn’t hypnotized, so she would use it to lift his spirits. When he wasn’t working, or spending time with the witch, he would go hunting for fish himself, and go eat berries and roots. He ate massive meals to make up for the fact he was late for hibernation. Each day his face grew chubbier, his stomach grew rounder, and his arms and legs grew thicker. His stomach sagged over his belt line and eventually his shirt didn’t fit him anymore. The chubbier he got, the more drowsy he got as well. Eventually, the witch stopped asking him to work, and let him rest, which was when he finally went into hibernation, and achieved the best sleep of his life. 

[ardenwritesegos]

Emotions are High: Chapter 1

Based loosely on @iamvegorott 's ego universe.

Also, both Dark and Engineer Mark switch from He/Him to They/Them every now and then. Just wanted to ease the confusion.

This was it. Just one more ingredient and Marvin would be done. That final edition was in his hand. It was a glass vial with a dark blue liquid, labeled: ‘Separating Agent.’ Marvin poured the liquid into a regular measuring cup before pouring it into a small cauldron. The potion exploded into rainbow smoke, bubbling a few moments before settling. The look of it was similar to dark brown soda, fizz and all. Just as he planned. The magician gathered up glass soda bottles from his vial shelf. Boy, Mad was going to love this, he thought to himself. The empath had always wondered if such a thing was possible. Marvin now had proof that it actually was. He just had to ensure all hell didn’t break loose.

____________________________________________________

 Another day, another morning rush. The kitchen and dining room were bustling with egos, each one getting a different breakfast. Dark held nothing but a mug of black coffee. The text on it read: ‘Paradox Detected.’ The dining room was loud with the sound of morning conversation, similar to a school cafeteria at lunchtime. Dark entered, heading straight for a seat next to his favorite glitch. 

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Dark and Brooding,” Anti smirked. 

“Good morning to you as well,” Dark responded, feigning offense. 

“C’mon, you know you love me,” the virus cooed teasingly. 

“Do I, now?” Dark retorted. 

“Why, yes…I do,” the being leaned into Anti, planting a small kiss on his lips. Across from them sat Chase and Engineer Mark–or Gin, as he was now called. 

“Could you guys get a room?” Chase joked. 

“We’re trying to eat here,” the engineer spoke as if his throat was full of vomit. 

“As if you haven’t done worse, ‘Ginny,’” Anti replied while doing a mocking voice for the gushy nickname. A bit of red flooded Gin’s cheeks, remembering some of their lovey-dovey moments. He shook himself out of it within a moment, face still flushed. 

“That’s not the point!” Engineer screamed, speaking quickly. Brody struggled to hold in a laugh. A breath of amused air escaped from his nose. 

“You’re supposed to be on my team here!” Gin turned to Chase, only partially faking anger. 

“I am,” Brody replied with a scrunched smile, still holding in a wave of laughter. 

“Sure you are,” Gin said with fake suspicion.

“Want me to prove it?” Brody asked in a low voice before kissing the engineer’s stubbled cheek. 

“Not really helping with my case, Chase,” Gin’s cheeks only became redder. 

“So I win then?” Anti smiled proudly. Gin pouted in response, flipping the glitch off. 

“Come on now, children,” Dark spoke in a motherly voice, surrounded in a mostly red aura. 

“It’s time to eat.” 

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Marvin entered with a wheely cart full of his potion. Each bottle sat in a built-in hole on top of a flat surface. He looked around for Mad, but couldn’t find him. Not unusual. Mad was usually one of the first egos to wake up. He was probably in the dining room, then. Marvin just had to–

“Well, hello there!” Wilford greeted. Shit. This was exactly what he didn’t want, though he shouldn’t have expected any less, especially in a crowded place like this. He thought that maybe everyone would be too absorbed in their own conversations to notice anything. But such an assumption can’t be made when it comes to WIlford Warfstache. 

“What have you got in that goodie cart?” Warfstache looked intently at the potion cart–or “goodie cart”– like a dog noticing a box of treats. The only difference was this one had opposable thumbs. 

“It’s about time you used your magic for something useful,” he joked, grabbing a bottle from the cart. Without hesitation, Warfstache popped open the drink and inhaled it in seconds. 

“Tastes like Dr. Pepper, not really my taste. But I know just the fellows who would like it,” in a flash of pink, both Wilford and the potion cart were gone. Great…

____________________________________________________

“Well, I gotta get back to it,” Gin announced, finished with his meal of cereal and coffee. 

“Do you gotta?” Chase looked at him in faux sadness, like a disappointed child. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gin whined. 

“I have to get this device made as soon as possible. You know how Google is,” the engineer was making a new generator, specifically for the Googles’ devices. The androids didn’t have a solid device to keep their machines going in case of a storm. Their whole work room would go out at the tamest of rainstorms. Knowing Gin’s expertise, Googleplier reluctantly asked him for help. Since then, Gin had been up late multiple nights. Hell, he only got sleep because of his boyfriend. 

“Okay,” Chase huffed. 

“See you at dinner. If not, I’m dragging you there,” he warned. It was far from a joke. The egos had been greeted by Chase carrying Gin to the kitchen multiple times. He started out trying to wiggle out of Chase’s arms. Eventually, however, he just gave in and accepted it. He needed to eat, anyway.

“Consider me warned,” the engineer replied. He turned to leave, but behind him poofed in Warfstache. 

“Fucking—” Gin exclaimed to himself. 

“You look like you could use a little drink,” Wilford picked up one of the bottles from the cart.

“Something to keep you going. Here,” he held out the bottle to the engineer. 

“Where did you get this?” Gin asked, concerned. 

“That doesn’t really matter,” Wilford waved his hand in dismissal. Gin gave him a look that said: ‘um, yes it does.’ 

“It’s Dr. Pepper,” he sang. 

“Oh,” Gin said, relieved. That quickly switched to an annoyed look. 

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” 

“That’s ‘Stache for ya,” Anti joked. The comment caused Warfstache to turn to Dark. 

“‘Want some, old friend?” Wilford picked up another bottle. Luckily for him–and unfortunately for Marvin–Dark had been craving some of the sugary drink for the past week. The creature nodded in response. Warfstache handed them the drink. 

“Okay, now I have to actually go,” Gin said. 

“See ya later, Ginny,” Chase replied. He walked up to his partner, giving him another kiss, this time on the lips. With that, the engineer left the room. 

“I should take leave myself,” Dark delicately rose from his chair. 

“Look at him, off to do his big-boy job,” Anti spoke like Dark was a friend going to his first day at the office. The creature simply smirked, a light laugh leaving his mouth. 

“And once that job is done, you can expect a…surprise,” the being teased, turning the smallest bit to face Anti. 

“I wonder what that could be,” Anti smiled, knowing full well what they were talking about. With that, Dark left. He did have a long day ahead of him, after all. 

__________________________________________________

Gin sat at his work table. Its lamp provided the only light in the bedroom. The engineer found he worked best like this. Too many lights on during a job reminded him of…things he would rather forget. Anyway, back to work. He was writing down the final blueprints, when a sudden dizziness overcame him. The room around him felt blurry, like it was spinning; kind of like how Gin imagined it felt to be drugged. Within seconds, his head plopped on the desk in front of him. 

“Ginny, everyone’s going down for dinner,” Chase knocked before pushing open the ajar door. Gin didn’t respond. That was when he noticed the engineer sitting unconscious at his desk. He must have fallen asleep again. He hadn’t been getting a lot of it recently, after all. Chase tip-toed over to his boyfriend until he reached him. 

“Wakey-Wakey,” he lightly shook the engineer. 

“Don’t make me carry you,” Chase joked, trying to hide his concern. 

“Okay, this was funny, but you can stop now—” he was interrupted by a blast of rainbow light; a blast that pushed him to the ground. All colors, except purple, seemed to scatter and move to different parts of the manor. As fast as it came, the flash cleared, returning Chase to the darkness of Gin’s room with…Gin? It looked to be wearing a purple version of his jumpsuit. And they appeared to be shaking like a puppy. Chase looked confusedly at this new Gin. 

“Are you…?”

“Sort of,” purple Gin stuttered. He acted kind of like Eric. 

“To be honest, it’s-it’s going to be a lot to explain.”

My Ao3

[jobrookekarev]

Fall Leaves

Chapter: One of One

Words: 1,796

Summary: Alex rakes the leaves into a pile for the girls to play in and Jo joins them in their play.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Luna Wilson, Helena Karev, and Edith Karev.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Family, Drabble, One Shot, Domestic, Parenthood, Children, Baby, Toddlers, Cute, Leaves, Fall, Autumn. 

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

…………………………………………………………………

“If you don't help, you can't play in it,” Alex said as he raked the leaves into the pile he had in the middle of the yard. 

Jo shrugged as she sat on the steps of the deck with Recess lying next to her. She was drinking her coffee in her slippers and a sweater as she watched him. It was a chilly October day, although Alex was sweating in his sweater. He almost had the perfect pile of leaves. He wanted it to be ready for the girls as soon as they got up from their nap. Their backyard had two maple trees, one apple tree, and an evergreen tree growing in the corner. Along with the neighbor’s trees around them, it provided ample amounts of leaves to create a huge pile. 

“I'm watching the kids,” Jo said as she held up the video baby monitor in her hands. 

“You could just clip it onto your belt and we'll hear them when they get up. Now take the other rake and help me,” Alex said, sweeping the small pile he had up to the top of the larger pile. 

“Can't I finish my coffee first?” Jo said, holding up her Halloween black witches cauldron mug, “I want to savor it. Besides, I spent all morning chasing the girls around and doing tummy time with the baby. And now look who's all asleep at the same time for the first time in ages.” 

Jo held up the baby monitor with a bit of a smug smile as she sipped her coffee again. Alex had to admit it was a rare sight. The baby was never on the same schedule as their toddlers. While Alex had worked that morning doing dishes, diapers, and playtime, Jo had worked hard to tire out Helena and Luna by chasing them around the yard. She’d also worked to keep Edith up a little bit longer and had done tummy time with her as she could finally hold her head up. Then she rushed through lunch and put the girls down early. While he put Edith down with ease as she fell asleep the second he sat down with her in the rocking chair. 

“Okay, you deserved it, but can't you at least help me a little bit after the girls wreck it?” 

“Okay, that’s only fair.”

Alex had a strategy of going around the corners and sweeping it all into a smaller pile, then scooping it up to the bigger pile in the middle of the yard next to the playcenter and swing set. It had worked out pretty well so far. He had gotten three quarters of the yard done when Jo agreed to join him and they made quick work of the last quarter. Just as they were carrying the leaves over to the big pile, they heard yelling on the monitor as Jo picked it up.

“Helena's up,” Jo said as she handed him her rake and went back inside to get her.

“Alright, guess we can stop now,” Alex said, putting his collection on the pile and giving a pat as he stared at it.

“It’s not going to blow away in the wind,” Jo said jokingly, gesturing to the dead air around them. 

“I know,” Alex said as he put down his rake and they went inside.

They got Helena up and by then Luna had woken up too. Shortly after they got the girls up and after Edith ate, they all got ready to go outside. Alex got Luna and Helena ready in their jackets and hats while Jo got herself and Edith ready.

“She’s going to get overheated in that,” Alex said as he watched Jo zip up the snowsuit on Edith. 

“No she won’t,” Jo said, she even went as far as to put the hood up as Edith was already wearing a hat.

“She already looks hot.” Alex rubbed her little red cheeks as Edith turned to suck on his finger.

“She'll be fine and she'll be just toasty enough once we get outside,” Jo said as she put on her own coat and picked up Edith. “At least I don't struggle to get one kid into a coat,” 

Alex sighed as he looked over at where he was holding up the coat for Helena. “Come on kiddo, you need a coat before we go outside.”

“No coat,” Helena said as she shook her head and waved her arm at him.

“Yes coat, or no outside,” Alex said, as he glared at his stubborn toddler.

“No coat!” Helena whined as she stopped her feet.

“Fine, I guess we'll just go out without you, come on Luna,” Alex said, taking her hand as she already had her coat and hat on.

Jo had even put her in a pair of mittens, although one of them was already off, but it didn't go far as it was clipped to her coat. Alex remembered when Amber had little mittens clipped to her coat and how he made sure that the clip was tight because they only had enough money for that one pair. 

He took Luna's hand and opened the sliding glass door to the deck and went outside. Helena tried to come out with them, but Alex turned around and stopped her, shutting the door as she remained inside. 

“Sorry kiddo you can't come outside without a coat,” Alex shrugged pointing to where he left it on the side table. 

“No coat,” Helena argued, stomping her feet again and Jo rolled her eyes at the mini tantrum. 

“Okay bye Helena,” Jo said as she went outside as well. Reeses looked between them and Helena before he followed Jo out and they left Helena inside alone.

“I go outside,” Helena pleaded with them and banged on the door.

She cried and screamed, bagging on the door as they all waited for her to be done. She cried for a good minute but was used to them being firm on their request of her. As she settled down and her screams stopped, Alex crouched down in front of the glass door.

“Helena coat,” Alex gently told her, pointing to her coat. 

Helena sighed as she ran and grabbed her coat, struggling to put it on. Alex opened the door and went back in to help her. He zipped it up and Helena ran to the door as Jo opened it up for both of them. 

“Hey girls, look at this,” Alex said as he excitedly ran over to the leaf pile. Jo thought that he was the most excited one for the leaf pile.

“Leaf,” Luna said, pointing at it and signing leaf again. 

“Yep,” Alex said, walking back to her. “Now who wants to jump into it?”

Alex turned around and excitedly ran to the pile and jumped in like a little kid. Jo laughed as he sank into the pile, sending all the leaves flying. Reeses ran after him, jumping in as well and disappeared into the pile. His tall kept wagging as he popped back up and clumped on Alex, licking his face. Alex trudged through it and helped Reeses out before he looked at the girls. Then Helena was running at him full speed and jumping face first into the pile with a gleaming laugh. She popped up next to him and Alex grabbed her as he laughed and the disrupted leaves fell around them.

“What do you think, Luna?” Jo asked as they both walked down the steps of the deck. 

Jo could tell that she was a little more timid about it, but Alex gestured her forward and Jo gave her a little nod and let go of her hand. Luna started running towards a pile, not as fast but she still jumped into Alex's arms. Alex caught her and she laughed as Helena tossed a leaf on her head. 

“What do you think, baby girl, was that fun?” Alex asked and signed to her and smiled.

'Yeah, again, again,' Luna signed as she ran back to Jo before running back into the pile. 

They jumped into the pile several more times as Jo stood by holding Edith and threw leaves on them. Alex and the girls played in the leaves, kicking them, squashing them, and generally having a good time. Jo even let Edith make her own pretend jump into the pile as Alex sat her on top of it. Although Jo was mostly content to sit with Edith on the big hammock chair on the big oak tree as they watched Alex and the girls play and jump. Alex tossed the leaves into the air and watched them fall over Luna and Helena as they quickly did the same, tossing them up into the air as much as she could although it didn't end very well as they went everywhere. 

The girl's laughter filled the backyard and Alex loved the sound of it. The yard quickly became another mess again as they played for most of the afternoon, only going inside to change diapers and get a snack before they immediately demanded to go back outside and play. Eventually, things grew dark and the girls got tired as Alex tossed Helena into the pile again as she laughed, although by now Luna was just laying on the pile enjoying the leaves that had gotten tangled in her little blonde hair. 

“Are you guys having fun?” Jo asked as she came over to them and handed Edith to him.

“Yeah, are you?” Alex held her and stuck out his tongue at her, making her copy him. Jo stepped in and sat in the leaf pile as Alex tossed the leaves over her.

“I've never really done this before,” Jo said, looking around at the leaves as she tossed them up into the air with a laugh and they floated over her.

“Really?” Alex asked, looking over at her with a slight frown. “I used to do this all the time with Amber and Aaron.”

Jo shrugged as she looked back at him, her smile fading a little. “I grew up in apartments in Boston and I didn't really get the chance. No one really raked a pile for me and I didn't really know how to do it myself. When I got old enough to do it myself it seemed babyish, so I didn't do it.” 

“Well, I think we should make it a fall tradition and do this all the time,” Alex said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Jo said, smiling back at him as he reached for her waist and pulled her in as he kissed her. Jo smiled into his lips and kissed him back as the girl laughed, and played and tossed the leaves over them.

[bibislut]

Handmade, With Love.

Summary: Harry likes handmade gifts. Draco likes Harry. With Potter's birthday fast approaching, Draco needs to work quickly to finish his present, and maybe win his heart?

Words: 1874

Warnings: Swearing, making out.

Read on Ao3

Potter liked homemade gifts. At first, Draco had thought that the Gryffindor was just humouring his godson’s sweet-yet-awfully-made presents he would present him with every so often. But then Granger gleefully pointed out Potter’s scarf one night at the Leaky Cauldron, an apparent result of Mrs Weasley’s attempts at teaching her daughter-in-law how to knit. And then, one evening, as they all crowded in Potter’s living room, drinks in hand, he noticed one of Luna’s mugs amongst the glasses, the hand-moulded clay the only remaining clean drinking receptacle. 

So when the darker man had dropped into Draco’s haberdashery and couturier one day in early July to ask if he’d repair a tear in his favourite shirt in time for his birthday party - “none of that mates rates bollocks Malfoy, I’m happy to pay” - the blond was struck with an idea. One he hoped would perhaps truly convey his feelings to his friend.

The shirt in question was rather plain, somewhere between merlot red and sangria purple. But Draco could see why it was Potter’s favourite; it hugged his muscles deliciously, the sleeves rolled up perfectly to show the veins on his scarred Auror arms, his rough fingers working the buttons on the cuff easily. 

“You can’t possibly be thinking of wearing that suit again, Potter.” Draco drawled, as he took the darker man’s measurements. 

“You can’t possibly think I care enough to actually go out of my way to buy a new one, Malfoy.” Harry copied his tone, patiently holding his arms up as the blond ran the tape measure along his back. The suit in question was the most plain black ensemble Draco had ever laid eyes on. And Potter had had the audacity to wear it to two Ministry galas.  Thankfully, Draco had only been Pansy’s plus-one at one of the two, the sordid details of the second being recounted the following evening over a glass of wine that looked remarkably like Potter’s shirt. 

“What are you doing right now?” Draco’s hands only lingered a fraction longer than they should have on Harry’s warm body. What a tremendous display of self-control, he thought.

“I- I thought you needed my measurements. For my shirt.” 

Draco rolled his eyes as he knelt in front of him, trying not to let his heart race at the positioning. “Just admit you like my face by your crotch, Potter. It’ll save us both time.” He ran the tape down his leg, trying to keep as respectable a distance as he could with his hand mere inches from Potter’s cock. Draco winked at him, and Harry held his gaze as he swallowed hard. Draco watched his Adam's apple bob up and down and was filled with the urge to lick his neck. He stood again. “I don’t need your measurements for a patch job.” He ignored the way Potter licked his lips.

“So what-?”

“I’m making you a new suit,” Draco cut him off. “No need to thank me. It can be a birthday present.”

Potter frowned, pulling his hoodie over his head. “A present? Aren’t these things usually really expensive?”

Draco watched him shake out his curls as he wound up his tape measure. “Don’t worry about it.” And then, when Harry’s frown deepened; “You can always point people in my direction when they no doubt compliment your new attire.”

“Ah, so this is a Slytherin plot!” 

“Keep thinking that if it helps you, Potter. Heaven forbid I do something good-natured.” Draco rolled his eyes, but kept a small smile on his face. He knew Harry was only joking. 

“I had heard it was illegal for a Malfoy to be selfless.”

Draco snorted. “Maybe I’ve got Wrackspurts in my ears.”

“Hmm. You’d better get that checked out.”

They shared a smile before Draco waved him away. “Get out of my shop, Potter. I can’t have people thinking I let hooligans in.”

—

Draco Lucius Malfoy came from a long line of purebloods. Muggle-hating purebloods. He wondered what his ancestors would think now, as he slowly unfurled his fist from around his wand, taking a deep breath and trying to remember why it wasn’t a good idea to send up his new sewing machine in the hot flames of an incendio. 

Why had he decided to make Potter’s new suit the muggle way? Because Harry likes hand-made gifts and you like Harry, a voice chimed in, very unhelpfully, for the tenth time that day. 

It was two weeks until Potter’s birthday, and Draco sat surrounded by various mannequins in different versions of the Auror’s new suit, all in a state that Draco would describe as only being loved the way a parent would love their 8-year old’s first attempt at something. It wasn’t looking as promising as he’d hoped. 

But he’d told Harry he’d make him a new suit, and he’d told himself that he would do it by hand, and that was that. He wouldn’t settle for less than perfection. If that meant a few late nights, and a few more wide-eye potions, then that was fine. If he was going to do this, he would do it right.

—

Draco ignored the urge to fiddle with the bow on Potter’s present as he waited for him to answer the door. The warm summer evening was just settling in, and Draco had insisted on arriving early to Harry’s birthday party to give him his shirt himself. 

Finally, Potter opened the door. His tshirt was damp, and he smelt strongly of mint and chamomile, evidently fresh out the shower. Draco swallowed the moan that threatened to escape.

“Come in, come in.” Harry held the door open for him. They made their way down the hall into the living room. “I just need to finish setting up. Did you bring the shirt? Of course you did. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. You’re never forgetful like I am - oh! A present!” Harry had yanked the parcel from Draco before he could stop him.

The blond opened his mouth to protest, but the paper was already falling to the floor. Harry held the suit up before him with a sharp inhale. 

The shirt was white and crisp, the burgundy waistcoat matching the blazer. The material was rich, embroidered with varying shades of red flowers, with faint gold thread throughout. The jacket was long, lined with dark gold buttons, held fastened with a gold chain, the cravat made from the same material, accented with a black and gold clasp. It looked almost regal. 

“And you made it by hand?” Harry’s voice was quiet, he looked stunned.

Draco drew his eyebrows together. “How did you- does- does it look bad?” He had been so proud of his work, but now… Was it so clear that he had never done this before? His heart only raced louder as Harry said nothing. And then:

“What? No. No!” He seemed to come back down to earth. “I’m just so used to detecting magic at work that it’s quite jarring when it's not there all of a sudden.” He finally drew his eyes away from the suit, placing it over the back of a chair. “It looks incredible, Draco. Really. I can’t believe you did this for me.” Harry grasped Draco’s hands in his.

Draco couldn’t hide his blush at Harry’s words, the use of his first name, and more importantly, the tight, warm grip Harry had on his hands. He swallowed thickly. “Well, I couldn’t have you turning up to another gala in that ratty old suit, could I?” He tried to sound light-hearted, but the way Harry’s eyes bore into his had his voice faltering.

“You made me an entire suit. Without magic.” Potter’s voice was quiet but steady. His grip tightened every so slightly.

The blond felt like a deer in the headlights, unable to move as Harry inched closer.

“Because I like hand-made gifts.” Harry continued. Draco couldn’t remember how to breathe. If he blinked Harry would be there, inches away from him, close enough that he could touch his face. “And you like me.”

Draco stopped breathing altogether, his eyes focused on the way Harry’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You’re a lot quicker than you were back in school.” Draco whispered.

“You like me,” Harry murmured. 

“I like you.” The admission wasn’t even a whisper, but Harry heard him.

Harry leant in to press his lips to Draco’s ear, his breath tickling his neck. “I like you too.”

“Fuck.” The word escaped on a breath before Draco could stop it, and Harry chuckled quietly, pulling back to look at him. 

“I think you’re jumping the gun a bit, Draco. You haven’t even asked me out yet.” Harry’s smile was cocky, his eyes bright, but Draco knew the bravado was only a front.

No, this time, it would be Draco’s bravery that took the spotlight. The blond reached out and rubbed Harry’s earlobe, listening to his breath hitch in his chest as Draco crowded his space. “You’ve fucked yourself over, Potter,” he whispered, “Your admission is practically an invitation.” Draco was leaning so close that his lips ghosted over Harry’s as he spoke.

The darker man closed his eyes, gripping Draco’s arm in anticipation. It sent a thrill through the blond, seeing so clearly that Harry’s words were true; he liked Draco too, and he wanted to kiss him.

Harry’s reaction was the reward for Draco’s bravery, but the prize lay before him. 

Draco slowly pressed his lips against Harry’s, and the darker man groaned into his mouth, pushing the kiss further until it became desperate and heated. Harry took control, pushing Draco back against the wall and pulling his blond hair until he opened his mouth to let Harry explore it. 

Everything each of them had been holding back was rushing to the surface, and Draco reached underneath Harry’s tshirt to drag his nails over Harry’s skin, making them both groan into the kiss. Harry pulled away with a growl, pulling his shirt over his head quickly before diving back into Draco’s mouth, trapping the blond between the wall and his body. Draco let his hands roam over Harry’s back and arms, his shoulders and chest. This was everything he had dreamed about, but better.

And then the doorbell rang. Because it’s Harry’s birthday. Because they’re expecting to see their friends any moment. 

“Fuck.” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead against Draco’s as they caught their breath.

Draco smirked. “I thought we agreed to go on a date first.”

Harry pressed his hungry lips against Draco’s again. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, kissing down Draco’s jaw. 

The whole evening had gone even better than Draco could have hoped for. Not only did Harry like him back, but fuck, did it feel good to touch him, kiss him.

The doorbell rang again, impatient. Harry pulled away but Draco kissed him again, more sweetly this time.

Harry grinned, squeezing Draco’s hand before picking his tshirt up and pulling it back on.

He spent the rest of the evening showing all of their friends the new suit that Draco had made him, pointing out all of the detail and work that went into it.

And Draco, for one, couldn’t have been happier.

----

Suit inspo from Aristocracy London <3

[thevoiceinyourheadx]

9 People You’d Like To Know Better

Thank you for the tag @pedrito-friskito ! 🥰

Last song: Up in Flames by Xavier Rudd, it's an absolute BANGER

Currently watching: I finally got round to starting the last season of Stranger Things. I love that show but I'm also a baby who's terrified of it��� I also REALLY want to see Barbie but just realised I don't even know if there's a cinema here...?

Currently reading: uhhh....do research studies for work count? Because that's all I've had time for recently (so...many...abstracts...) Though I do have the COLOSSAL book Europe by Norman Davies next to my bed that I keep meaning to finish (and by 'finish' I mean read more than the first chapter...) And as always there's the 3million AO3 tabs on my computer...

Current obsession: it's about to be August, which of course means it's SPOOKY TIME! 🤣 FR though the autumn/Halloween stuff has started appearing in stores, so my mind instantly switched into autumn mode. I've got my black nail polish, my cauldron mug and my pumpkin blanket. Now if I could just get my fictional husband Javier Peña under said blanket with me... (Though between both @stealyourblorbos and @astroboots I've developed a teeeeeny obsession with Miguel O'Hara 👀)

No pressure tags: @wheresarizona @kteague @stealyourblorbos @darkroastjoel @forever-rogue @lavendertales and anyone else who feels like it! ♥️

[wildflowers-in-the-snow]

let me be your shelter

{A/N: a Nessian ficlet that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. inspired by one of the hundreds of prompts I've read in the last few days}

Nesta reclined in the deep soaking tub in her bathing room, trying in vain to find some relaxation. Normally this room was her escape, was where she’d disappear to for hours on end with a good book and a mug of tea that the House kept full and warm. But today had been a difficult one and had dredged up too many memories for her to enjoy herself here. From the moment she’d slid into the steaming tub, she’d found herself overcome with flashes of the Cauldron, and images of its inky black waters had flickered across her peaceful surroundings. For the first time in a long time, she had felt genuine fear at those memories.

Yes, today had been hard, but her resolve was harder, and Nesta was determined that she would not let her past win. Not this time. So she began her Valkyrie mind-stilling. She focused herself, blocked out everything around her, until all she knew was the rhythmic inhale and exhale and inhale and exhale. I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Over and over, until when she opened her eyes she saw not the Cauldron, but the glassy surface of the tub, reflecting warm yellow candle flames back up at her.

After the mind-stilling, she was less anxious, but the calm she normally felt in this room was still out of reach. So she had just resigned herself to a short and unpleasant bath when she heard the door handle turn.

She opened her eyes to find Cassian stepping into the bathing room, his Illyrian leathers gleaming in the candlelight. One look into his eyes and she knew he could see right through her, past the façade she wore for everyone else and deep into the simmering unease she still felt now. Without Nesta needing to say a word, Cassian understood what she needed.

He stripped off his leathers and tied his long hair back, then carefully stepped into the tub. Once he had settled himself down across from Nesta, he reached for her, gently tugging her into his lap. He coaxed her legs around his torso and she obliged, draping her arms around his broad shoulders. From her position, she could feel him, half-hard against her, but she knew that wasn’t his focus right now. Indeed, his hands didn’t wander as he cupped the back of her head and pulled her down to rest against the crook of his neck.

When Nesta was good and settled, Cassian cupped water into his hands and let it fall slowly over her hair. She sighed, closing her eyes and nuzzling further into his neck as the warm water glided down her back. She could almost feel the smile on his face as he pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head.

Then she felt him reach towards the side of the tub, and the faint scent of lavender filled the room as he opened the bottle waiting there. He began to work the soap into a lather in her hair, his nails digging into her scalp. Nesta arched her back and tried to keep herself from purring like a cat. He was so damn good at this.

And he knew it too, from the chuckle she felt rumble through his body.

Oh, two could play at this game.

She reached one arm down from where it hung over his shoulder and traced a line along his spine, right between his wings. She felt him tense beneath her, and she grinned against his throat. As he continued massaging the soap into her scalp, she let her hand roam across his back, up the curve of his wing, to the gleaming talon at its tip. She circled once around the talon, then dipped her fingers lower to run along the inner edge of his wing on her way back down.

Cassian hissed, and Nesta felt a sharp tug on her scalp as his hands tightened in her hair. She responded with a nip at his throat, right at his pulse. He was fully hard beneath her now, and she rolled her hips, taunting him.

The hand in her hair gave a yank, and she found herself meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark and wanting, but despite his heaving breaths, he growled, “Save that for later,” and his tone left no room for argument.

Nesta swallowed, licking her lips, but when he guided her back down to lay against his shoulder, she stayed.

Satisfied, he began to rinse the bubbles from her hair, and Nesta’s toes curled as the water again flowed down her back. She closed her eyes and let herself drift, aware of nothing but the lavender scent in the air and the warmth of her mate’s body against her.

Cassian’s hands moved from her hair to her back, and he traced swirling patterns across her skin. She arched into his touch, unable to stop the sigh of pleasure that escaped her lips. He kissed her brow again as his strong hands worked the tension from her shoulders, her back. She sagged against him, and if not for him supporting her body, she would have slid fully beneath the water. As it was, her head now rested against his heart, and he leaned back against the edge of the tub to make her more comfortable. She sighed again, her fingers playing with the strands of his hair that had come loose from their tie.

Cassian continued his ministrations along her back, his fingers digging in occasionally in a warm pressure that stopped just shy of pain. As he moved further down her spine, Nesta could swear she actually felt her unease from earlier drifting away on the curls of steam rising from the water. She lay against her mate’s chest and let his steady heartbeat lull her into a doze.

After what could have been minutes or hours, Nesta was certain she’d melted as thoroughly as the candles lining the tub. Cassian’s hands had stilled, resting solidly against her hips. It took considerable effort for her to raise her head, to blink open her bleary eyes and make herself focus on Cassian’s face. He was smiling at her, and looking so self-satisfied that it cleared her head. She almost scowled. But instead, she allowed herself a wicked grin. She fisted one hand in his hair and reached the other beneath her, gripping him. Surprise flashed through his eyes, and she yanked his head back, lowered her lips to his ear, and whispered, “It’s later.”

[lady-snow-flower]

Snow had no idea how to tell -- if the sludgey reagent was from Ashitaka or from Nago. Their souls were so intertwined, dependent on each other especially here in the land of the living, that maybe there was no such thing as separate reagents for either anymore.

Snow frowned at that thought, reaching for a napkin to try and wipe her hand. Even when she got most of the sludge off, her skin was stained black. She'd probably need to use a poultice of some sort to remove it-- later.

For now, she cast her eyes back to the black tar. Well. It was a reagent. They could only try and see.

"Right," Snow answered Belle quickly, then more on a wider, more reassuring smile for Ashitaka. "Don't worry. I know this looks-- well, it looks quite bad, but memory reagents are all unique. I'll use just... a drop or two in the tea. We'll see how it goes. If the tea doesn't work, then we can try a different way."

There were all ways of divining the past. If not through her tea, then perhaps through smoke? Or bones? Her mind spun with alternatives as she picked up the teacup and disappeared off into the kitchen to prepare the potion.

As she said, Snow squeezed just two drops of the black tar into the tea already simmering in her cauldron. Instantly, smoke plumed from the batch, smelling foul-- like swamp water. She wrinkled her nose. Ah, the taste of this tea would... not be pleasant.

She poured some into a fresh mug and brought it back to Ashitaka.

"Here you are," Snow set it down in front of him. "Just to prepare you... just a few sips should be enough. You'll feel sleepy quite quickly, and so you should lay down here on the couch. We'll watch over you while the tea takes you back into your past. It will feel very, very real, but it's a dream. You'll wake up naturally, when the magic is done."

@ashitaka-unclouded

The Days of Gods and Of Demons % [Snowbell + Ashitaka]

[fw00shy]

halloween

cw: recreational drug use, depression

Harry’s in the lobby when Draco comes down from the elevator. “Hi,” Draco says. He smoothes down the front of his top—green lace, for Halloween. He’s Tinkerbell.

“Oh, hi. Err. I’m waiting for Ron,” Harry says. He’s openly gawking.

“Cool,” Draco says, though he already knows that. Harry waits for Ron a lot. The last time—no, nothing good comes from thinking about that night.

“He’s always late,” Harry says. He might as well have said nothing.

Draco’s too sober to handle this confrontation. He steps around Harry. “I’ve got to go,” he says. “Pansy’s waiting for me in the cab.”

…

In the cab, Pansy hands Draco a vial of something pink. “You look terrible, darling,” she says.

“Saw Potter in the lobby again,” Draco explains. He downs the vial. The potion burns as it goes down. He feels marginally better, as if the vial actually did contain an antidote for heartache.

“He’s in your lobby an awful lot,” Pansy says.

“Weasley lives in the building too.” A taste of bitter crawls up Draco’s throat. “Just my luck.”

“Doesn’t he have the keys to Weasley’s flat?”

Draco thinks about it. A smidgen of hope creeps into his heart. He shakes his head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Draco shakes his head again. He wants to hope but now he knows hope is a drug. Hope is meant to be taken recreationally, with moderation. Too much, and it can kill you.

…

At the party, the potions spill out cauldrons: hyperfizz, amortenia, witch’s brew, plus an assortment of Muggle candy that painted your vision neon. Draco ladles himself a mug full and does the same for Pansy, then they do what they usually do at parties: find a dark corner and talk until their bodies loosen and they’re ready to shed off the weight of their troubles.

“You okay?” Draco asks when Pansy stumbles, jostling pink fizz onto her shirt. Black. She looks like one of those girls who dress for Halloween every day.

“Fine,” Pansy says. “Fine, fine.” Her eyes focus on Draco. “You?”

Draco is almost drunk enough to find himself beautiful. He dips into narcissism when intoxicated. He catches glimpses of his own pale shoulder in dark bathroom mirrors and thinks, maybe I am pretty enough to love. Draco is almost drunk enough to remember what happened this time last week, at last-week’s party, when he’d been drunk enough to push Potter up against a wall and kiss him.

Last week Draco had been too drunk. The trick is to keep it at the almost-drunk; where hope lays solidly in fantasy.

Pansy snorts into her cup. Her eyes are two glazed donuts. There’s a dreamy look on her face, like she’s finally ready to sleep. Draco doesn’t know if he should be worried about her. The problem with potions is that they’re supposed to help you forget your troubles. But sometimes his trouble is Pansy Parkinson, and Draco never wants to forget about her.

…

Lights strobe in slow motion. Draco drags a finger down the dirty bathroom mirror. When he turns, he sees a vampire. Not a real one, obviously. It’s just Harry Potter wearing pointy plastic canines (glamours are too hard with potions, so no one tries). Draco reaches out a hand and finds the nape of Potter’s neck. He knows what will happen next because it’s already happened last week. The perfect fantasy, wound back like a music box. “I wish I could remember this,” Harry whispers. And, for a moment, Draco does too, before touch blends into sound and fuzz and sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s alone.

[fangirl-writes]

Silent Night

Harry James Potter x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): None

Notes: Merry Christmas everyone. 

(JK can fuck off but I love the characters)

Summary: You and Harry visit Godric’s Hollow and wish his parents a happy Christmas.

It had been a few years since Voldemort was defeated. Harry was starting his new job at the ministry as a Auror and you were coming off your eighth year with Hermione, completing your schooling and starting off as a reporter for the Daily Prophet.

You and Harry had been friends since first year. Nowhere near as close as he was with Ron and Hermione, but closer than he was with Dean, Seamus, and Neville. You’d consider him an attractive man, all things considered, and he’d complimented your beauty a few times across the years, but neither of you really took any step further in the relationship.

Harry was caught up in Cho and then Ginny, but neither of those relationships ended up working out, for their own respective reasons.

Ginny went on to get a professional position on the Holyhead Harpies, playing as their star chaser, Ron was helping George run the joke shop, and Hermione was working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Everyone was busy, but with Ron and Hermione figuring out their relationship, Harry felt kind of alone. So, he turned to you.

You were always willing to hang out with him when you had time. Going for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron or strolling through Hogsmeade or even just chatting at Grimmauld Place, where Harry currently lived.

“You aren’t going to decorate for Christmas?” You chided, coming in out of the cold and kicking off your snow covered boots.

Harry laughed, handing you a mug of hot chocolate to warm your freezing hands.��“I live alone, why would I need to?”

“Have some holiday spirit, Potter!” You teased. “Mrs. Weasley would have your head for not even getting a tree.”

“She’d have my head for not eating three meals a day,”

“Oh, you shouldn’t’ve said that. Now I’m gonna make it my personal mission to bring you breakfast every morning before I go to work.”

“Please don’t do that,” Harry said, but he was smiling.

You shoved the side of his head and he motioned for you to follow him up the creaky stairs to the drawing room on the first floor.

He’d really fixed up the place since moving in. He’d gotten rid of that terrible portrait of Mrs. Black, dusted away all the cobwebs, and gotten rid of the other unflattering decor and furniture. 

He kept some of the classic features, though, like the gas lamps and velvet curtains.

You noticed he’d hung photos along the stairs. Pictures of him, Ron, and Hermione, one of him and Sirius, one of the whole Weasley family, and he even had one of the Dursleys (though you noticed Mr. Dursley was practically cut out of the photo expect for an arm, a leg, and part of his stomach).

You stopped at the last one. It was of four guys standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera. “Harry, what’s this photo? Who are those guys your with?”

Harry backed up a few steps to see what you were looking at and laughed. “That’s not me. That’s my dad and his friends.”

He raised a hand to point at the handsome, shaggy haired boy. “That’s Sirius, and on dad’s other side is Lupin.”

Even then a little shabby-looking, you noticed with a smile.

Harry didn’t say who the fourth boy was but you could only assume it was that nasty Peter Pettigrew who’d sold his parents out to Voldemort.

Your eyes fell on Harry’s father. His untidy hair stuck up at the back, like Harry’s sometimes did, and he wore the same style glasses, if not a little more carelessly planted on his face.

“You look a lot like your father,” You said, a little sheepishly, since you’d mistaken one for the other.

“Except my eyes,” Harry replied, like he’d heard the statement a hundred times before. “Come on,”

You finished scaling the stairs and dropped yourself on the sofa, somehow managing not to spill any of your hot chocolate.

Harry sat next to you and you just admired his features for a moment, noting the differences between him and his father.

You’d known him for years but only in the last few had he really come into his looks. His eyes were sparkling green underneath his glasses, his jawline was more defined. His hair was still its unruly self, but he made it work. You could see the outline of his scar beneath his bangs but it had begun to fade a little.

“What are your Christmas plans anyway?” You asked, bringing the mug to your lips. “Heading to the Burrow?”

Harry nodded. “For part of it. I’m going to have dinner with Mrs. Tonks and Teddy.”

You’d almost forgotten about little Edward Lupin, Harry’s godson who was nearing two years old. “Oh, how is he?”

“From what Andromeda says, he’s doing fine. He’s learned how to change hairstyles on a whim instead of just to fit his emotions.”

You couldn’t help but smile. 

Harry was too, but he seemed far away. Like his thoughts were somewhere other than your current conversation.

“Is there...anything else you want to tell me?”

He glanced at you, seeming a little nervous. “I’ve been thinking. I- I really want to go back to Godric’s Hollow, since the last time I was there was less than peaceful...but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

You seemed confused, judging by the way you tilted your head curiously at him.

“I was wondering if...if, uh, you’d mind coming with me?”

Your features morphed into surprise. You were honored that he was asking you to visit somewhere that was so important to him. “I-”

“I understand if you don’t want to.” Harry interrupted.

You frowned, trying to speak again.

“Really, it’s okay. I know its probably a lot to ask but-”

“When are we going?”

Harry stopped blabbing to give you his own look of surprise that slowly morphed into a thankful smile. “Christmas Eve?”

“Sounds perfect.”

***

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer standing on the front porch of Grimmauld Place. Instead, you were standing hand in hand with Harry in a snowy lane under a sky of glittering stars. Cottages stood on either side of the road, Christmas decorations twinkling in their windows.

“It’s snowing.” Harry said, making you look up at the small flurries of white falling from the sky.

“I suppose it is,” You replied, lifting the hand that wasn’t holding Harry’s to catch some of them in your palm. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Harry led you down the narrow road, the crunch of the snow beneath your feet the only noise to brake the winter silence.

Neither of you noticed that you were still holding hands.

The lane on which you were walking curved into the heart of the village, revealing to you the bustling villagers and the feeling of Christmas joy.

The shops had strings of lights hung on their fronts, carolers were going door to door, and you could hear the sound of laughter as a pub door opened and closed.

You turned to look at Harry with a bright smile, ready to wish him a happy Christmas, but his eyes were fixated on the war memorial that laid at the center of the square.

“Harry? What is it?”

He didn’t say anything, just squeezed your hand and led you forward, towards the statue.

As you passed, it morphed into a different memorial. It was now a statue of three people: a man with unruly hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind face, and a baby boy in his mother’s arms.

“That’s- oh, Harry,” You said, not needing to finish with ‘those are your parents’.

“I neve imagined there’d be a statue.” Harry said. “But it’s nice...”

You were suddenly overcome with the urge to hug him, so you did. He accepted it, allowing himself to just be held by you for a moment.

"C’mon,” Harry said, pulling away before the hug could go on too long, and you made your way toward the graveyard.

He slid his hand into yours again.

“For only being here once before, you certainly know your way around.” You said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think I could forget that day if I tried,” He replied.

Okay, no mood lightening. Got it.

There was a kissing gate at the entrance of the graveyard. You pushed it open as quietly as possible and walked through it. You abandoned the path towards the church doors, wading through the untouched snow around the building.

Behind the church was where the graves were. What seemed like endless rows of tombstones glowed grey beneath the blanket of snow that was tucked neatly on top of them.

It didn’t take long to find where the Potters were buried. Even without Harry there to lead you, the stone was hard to miss. 

It was made of white marble that made it easy to read in the darkness. You could make out the names before you stood in front of it.

‘James Potter’ ‘Lily Potter’

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

“I thought the saying was stupid the first time I came here. That it was some kind of death eater idea. I guess now, having been through what I have since then. I get what whoever wanted that there meant.”

“Living on after death,” You said.

Harry nodded. “As long as I’m alive, no one is going to forget my mum and dad. They’re dead, but they’ve done as much for the wizarding world as I have.”

You knew that couldn’t possibly be true, Harry was practically a martyr at this point, but you didn’t voice that thought.

Tears began to roll down his cheeks and it hurt you to see him so hurt. A kind of hurt that would never go away.

Moving closer to him, you leaned your head on his shoulder and gripped his hand a little tighter. “They would be so proud of you.”

“I know...” Harry whispered. “I know they are.”

You and Harry had talked about practically everything. He’d told you things that he hadn’t told Ron and Hermione. He didn’t need to preach to you how unfair it was, how he never asked to be a part of some stupid prophecy, that if he hadn’t been so stupid maybe things would be different.

But all that was nothing when he looked back on that night in the forest, the night he died.

“They’re with you.” You said.

“Until the end,” Harry said, echoing his father’s sentiments.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down again.

“Oh,” You reached for the bag at your side. “I brought something, I hope you don’t mind.”

You pulled out a Christmas wreath, it was decorated with red and gold ribbon along with the white flowers blooming from it. You carefully placed it on his parents’ grave and stood back up.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but you gave life to one heck of a guy.” You said.

That got Harry to give a little smile.

You lingered by the grave a little longer until your fingers were practically frozen to Harry’s. So, you used some muggle money you had to buy some warm drinks from the pub and the two of you strolled around the village for a little bit.

“Would you mind,” you asked as you and Harry passed the carolers on their way to sing at the next cottage. “If I joined you for dinner with Teddy and Andromeda?”

“You’d want to come?” Harry replied.

“Of course,” You said, smiling. “Love Teddy and Andromeda is always so nice...and you will be there, of course.”

He laughed. “I’d love it if you came.”

“Really?” 

“Really.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a woman from the group of carolers had walked up to you two. “But I have to say that you’re a lovely couple,”

A blush spread across your face. “Oh, we’re-”

“Thank you,”

You looked up to Harry with surprise as the woman nodded and wished you a happy Christmas before walking back to her group.

“I’ve, uh, liked you for a while now...just wasn’t sure how to say it. And I know this probably isn’t appropriate, considering we were just at my parents’ grave, but would you like to be my girlfriend?”

You broke out into a grin. “I’d love that.”

Harry let out a little sigh of relief and you pulled him in for a kiss.

It was a cold kiss, at first, the cold winter air capping your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind. He tasted like the drink you’d just had and something else that was distinctly Harry.

After what could have been seconds, hours, days (you weren’t sure), you broke apart to catch your breath.

“Let’s-uh, wait until after the holidays to tell the Weasleys and Hermione, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little but. “Sure. But I’m not sure how to feel that you’re thinking about Ron and Hermione after our kiss.”

You cuddled into his side and he kissed the top of your head before apparating you both home.

[earlgreydream]

butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles​ i’m so soft for draco 

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you. 

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class. 

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you. 

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled. 

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy. 

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration. 

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly. 

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat. 

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.” 

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S. 

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons. 

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince. 

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.” She asked shyly, and Draco sat up. 

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her. 

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric. 

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.” 

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm. 

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm. 

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans. 

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face. 

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing. 

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.” 

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss. 

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.” 

“Come on, let’s get going.” 

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco. 

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.” 

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.” 

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley. 

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat. 

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold. 

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you. 

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle. 

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore. 

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you. 

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly. 

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter. 

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer. 

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all. 

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost. 

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps. 

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat. 

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly. 

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms. 

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

[mystech-master]

Why I Defend Ragna the Bloodedge (Part 1)

Long post about me ranting about Blazblue bellow, beware.

If I get any lore stuff wrong or misremember some details or even mis-characterize someone, then it is pretty indicative about what parts of Blazblue have stuck out to me/stuck with me the most.

(Making this a part 1 just because I have had this in my drafts for months now and I want to get rid of it. IDK if there even IS gonna be a part 2)

Anyone who has followed me for a while should know that I have MANY posts saying how much Ragna should’ve been treated better or that the world should fuck off and leave him alone.

But I feel like I need to clarify what I feel about him.

Here is how I have imagined his life being like based on what I have seen in the flashbacks and filling in the blanks:

He and his siblings were artificial humans made in one of Relius’ workshop, and they were experimented on. Ragna’s first interactions with other people besides his siblings were people who saw him as an “it”, no amount of being kind or smart would get through to them or make them stop. Anger, violence, and yelling were the only things that barely worked. This is probably what helped develop his sort of sardonic and punk-ish personality.

Then Jubei saves him and he lives with the Sister for a few years with Jin and Saya, and this is probably where he imagined he’d spend the rest of his life. I mean he wasn’t improving his social skills as he and his siblings weren’t going to school, that church was out in the middle of nowhere. The only people he knew personally were the sister and his siblings, the only example of anyone outside of that group were the scientists who tortured them, so Ragna probably didn’t exactly have a good idea on what “other people” would be like.

Then comes the worst day of his life when some asshole comes in, burns down his home, kills the woman who was raising him, then his own little brother cuts off his arm and stabs him through the chest, all while the arson asshole taunts him until he passes out and takes both siblings away, all while the little brother says this is all his fault.

Then he wakes up, almost a week later with a new arm, and Jubei comes back to help him out. IDR if there was a scene showing Ragna agreeing to be trained by Jubei, but in terms of flashbacks all we see is either A. Ragna doing bad at training and Jubei scolding him (which kind of sends the wrong message about his training  which is supposed to explain why he is so strong, it’s kind of like graduating from Harvard but you barely passed your classes with a C, beign the worst of the best and all that) or Rachel giving him shit, or B. generic anime talk about some cryptic shit. Eventually, Jubei shows him that the evil government is using his kidnapped little sister to make evil robot clones to use as weapons.

I HC that Ragna’s bad day happened when he was about 13-14, so he pretty much spent his entire adolescence/teen years with only Jubei and Rachel as company while being raised in the woods.

Ragna has only known 5 people personally his entire life before the start of the games. His only experience with people outside of that were scientists who treated him like a thing, and in between both of those things he was just chilling in the middle of nowhere.

IMO he has NO reason to give a flying fuck about the world. Yeah I’ve heard him say that they need to stop the Murakumos from being smelted because “Black Beast could come back”, but I feel like he is just using that as an excuse to justify his Cauldron Crushing Crusade.

I am not a psychologist, and this is my own bullshit I am thinking of, but I feel like due to Ragna being separated from society for pretty much his entire life, not needing to adjust his behavior due to not being part of a society, and his less-than stellar treatment by a select few people, Rana just doesn’t have the same empathy that normal people do, at least at first.

Think about it, why do you not do bad things? Why do you not steal from or mug people (those of you who are normal)? Because you are afraid of consequences. Not everyone doesn’t do bad things because they are good, otherwise law enforcement wouldn’t be seen as needed. I am not going to go mug a guy because I am afraid of consequences, plus I have normal empathy for other people. But Ragna, who has only interacted with assholes outside of his 5 personal connections, and has been raised in the woods for most of his life never needed a filter for himself, or a need to not do bad things because he was never gonna be a part of society.

He becomes the SS Class criminal Ragna the Bloodedge as he destroys the government that wants to use his little sister as an experiment, he doesn’t care about this, he doesn’t care about the consequences. If he’s going to hell, so long as he can drag down the bastard who ruined his life with him that’s fine. He has no reason to give a fuck about this society that he was never meant to or wanted to be a part of, or anyone in it.

Now ignore all of what I just said because none of this is how he feels, at least according to the canon games. The lab part of his backstory is NEVER brought up, and his worst day ever at the church is just treated as a generic sad event that he just needs to get over.

He gets to Kagutsuchi, Jubei gives him a vague warning that “he” is waiting, because he and Rachel expect Ragna to be psychic or have some cosmic sixth sense that they have. He barely survives Hakumen, then gets killed by Nu-13. This repeats over and over, and Rachel, miss “I am not allowed to interfere with the world yet I will troll Ragna for his entire life because he is a cosmic linchpin that we need to fix this mess and also lol angry punk swearing is a joke that never gets old even after hundreds of timeloops” does the same thing, over and over again. Knowing that everything is going to play out the same and is just saying that Ragna isn’t trying hard enough.

You know the old saying “Doing something over and over again and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity”? Rachel sees Jubei’s disciplinarian act and still trolls Ragna, and he still fucks up. These two are the only support Ragna had after his bad day and they act like Ragna not being a super polite gentleman every 5 seconds, or hell every sentence, is like this massive offense to them. He is a KID who lost everything, cut him some fucking slack! He seems to grow as a character when people were actually nice to him and treat him like a person, so he seems to react way better to positive reinforcement.

Then again Jubei probably was a lot nicer to Platinum. IDK if this is because Ragna needed to be given the hardass act to make him into the SS-Class criminal he is now, or because Ragna is a guy and needs to be given hardass discipline compared to the cute little girl because everyone in Blazblue needs to follow The Dulcinea Effect (fuck this argument and if you use gender anywhere in your argument for any of these characters I will hunt you down and tear out your intestines).

So yeah, a bit edgy, but I feel like Ragna should have a lot of social issues due to his massive lack of social interaction with decent people for most of his life. I mean Jin and Saya/Noel (treating them as one) only managed to get normal lives because their MINDS and souls were fucks with. If you took Jin and Saya as they were before Terumi’s attack and just plopped them in the Kisaragi and Vermillion households, do you think that they’d be able to function as barely well as they do now? I don’t think so.

This is also what makes Ragna’s own development more simple to follow, as he isn’t being memory wiped or having his soul split up throughout his history. He is the only clear A to B story out of the 3 MCs.

This is all I currently have to say about his backstory, but now I need to move onto another part.

I defend Ragna’s bad attitude, but why is his bad attitude okay compared to others? What makes his attitude okay compared to characters like Jin, Rachel, Kokonoe, and a few others?

Let’s start wtth Jin Kisaragi

Jin has had to deal with assassins and jealous adoptive family members, but this is all limited to flavor text, we never SEE him dealing with this. The most we get is Shiori in Remix Heart and IDK if he was even AWARE considering she moves on to Mai pretty quick. He has his good moments there in his academy days but IDK how much of his nice guy personality during this was a lie considering how he lapses into asshole sometimes, not all of which have to do with Noel, who as far as Jin knew at the time was just some random girl who looked like his little sister.

Him giving her shit because he was jealous of her as a kid for spending time with Ragna when she was sick is very immature. If we’re supposed to see Jin as superior to Ragna then this isn’t helping. I know there is supposed to be some contrast with him and Ragna about how Ragna is a criminal but is actually nice but Jin is a world famous hero but is actually a prick, but I feel like when both are meant to be seen as heroes by the end of the story BOTH should be better people. 

Then he goes to war and single-handedly wins due to Tenjo sealing her soul in Rettenjo and gets his mind wiped (Rachel says that Jin was too green to win that fight). I refuse to believe he did it non-lethally or went on some quest of justice to avenge his squad against Meifang as depicted in Variable Heart because CT Jin is WAY too much of a bitch ass to care about people that much, I just feel like they had Jin’s CP-CF character in mind.

He seemingly KNOWS he is mind wiped but doesn’t give a fuck about what it means, and even then it feels like he’d be more upset about being a puppet or his pride than doing anything bad.

He then becomes some big hero according to the government, not too sure on how the people feel (more on that later) and from what I have heard he sucked at his job: skipping meetings and not doing paperwork, at least in the timelines where Noel didn’t exist, and speaking of, he is also an ass to his secretary due to childish jealousy. He then goes AWOL to fight Ragna the Bloodedge, not out of some heroic BS, but because his sword gives him a MASSIVE murder boner. He then gets over it, but now some cosmic force is telling him to kill Ragna, but Jin tells both it and the sword to fuck off and wants to kill Ragna just because. I think he mentions wanting to save him from his suffering, because literally no one else can think of another way to help him? Also, how TF does Jin know that Ragna is suffering, and if he does, why is he sure that killing him will help? To paraphrase the 4thSnake on Youtube, if you immediately jump to killing a loved one instead of trying to help them in every possible way, then it makes the bond way less believable.

Anyways, Jin gets his sword to work and trains with Jubei to use this Cosmic plot power to help Tsubaki, who he only seems to care about because the writers need SOMEWAY for him not to be a total douchebag all the time. He says he is only there for Tsubaki, saves her, and then sticks around for some reason. He does become more heroic, but more in the sense of “I am going to aim at the bigger target rather than ignore it for selfish means” rather than “I am going to become a decent human being”. He mentions in CF about “What is the point of saving the world if you have to sacrifice the people in it” when talking about killing Noel to stop Doomsday but 1. He clearly doesn’t give a fuck about his own Brother here, and 2. Just because you save people’s lives doesn’t mean you have the okay to treat those people’s feelings like shit. The series acts like because Jin put on a pretty face for a few years and is more calm, cool, and collected than Ragna means it is cool for him to be a douchebag. If any of you say their sibling relationship is relatable with “Cain energy” I will burn you at the stake.

Moving on to Rachel

I do not find her Tsundere act cute, it is annoying as hell and if you have friends like this you need to reevaluate your self worth or standards. She shows up in his life (he never seems to know about the bite in the first time loop), gives him shit, and occasionally drops some cryptic wisdom. If you have to wait for everything to go to shit to get the slightest amount or ANY amount of decency out of someone, then you need higher friend standards.

But given where Ragna was at the time, he literally had no other options to talk to. This feels more like Stockholm syndrome, or at least something similar, where Ragna calls her his friend because she is one of the only people he’s ever interacted with personally for an extended period of time. They do this whole “upper class lady” thing with her, but really, she isn’t.

BS Analysis time:

She is from the House of Alucard but what the fuck does that even MEAN!? What does she DO that gives her the authority to act like this? It can’t be the Onlooker thing because 1. that isn’t a family title, unless she has something to say about her relationship with Amane, and 2. The Onlookers are specifically meant to watch the world and do NOTHING. And even then, why do the Onlookers need to exist What is the purpose of having someone who can see anything in the world and learn anything and everything hut not do anything with that power? Rachel just seems like a spoiled brat playing princess and everyone falls for the act because she matches the aesthetic. She was raised in that pocket dimension in her castle with servants who kiss her ass, she has no other royals she meets with as an excuse as to why she thinks she has some reputation to uphold. She literally has a pretty pointless existence in-universe, but because she has the aesthetic of, acts like, and says she is from some high class important family, we are supposed to treat her as such.

Now for Kokonoe

I am already mad enough but Kokonoe’s bitchiness mostly comes from A. people not bowing down before her because she s the smartest mortal alive, and B. Daddy-issues. She is mad at Jubei for not being there for her, even though he wanted her to be safe and he was wanted by the NOL, all while saying that Nine should’ve killed Celica to use the Lynchpin and not give a shit about family, whuch makes her sound like a massive hypocrite.

Now a lot of Rachel and Kokonoe’s bitchiness, not just to Ragna but a lot of characters, isn’t just them wanting to be worshiped, but they are trying to save the world/defeat Terumi. It is just that a LOT of their BS is lost in translation. Just watch Rachel’s fights in her CS Story mode. Looking at it from this POV their bad attitudes can be seen as more justified as Ragna is either spewing insults with his blunt comments (which I feel like many of us would say if we saw people acting like this in reality) or wanting revenge which is way less justifiable. Rachel and Kokonoe just seem to care more about being right/insulting people than actually making the situation better.

I think one of the main reasons I side with Ragna’s attitude is that it is more relatable. Rachel, Jin and Kokonoe are all calm, cool, collected, intelligent and have positions of power, they are superior to the common man, or at least are presented as such. When Ragna gets mad, it is usually in response to some bullshit, and the universe punishes him for, as I said, reacting how I feel a lot of people would react to this bullshit. But Japanime land favors responding to these events with stoicism or a cool head. Ragna does develop and become a better person, but Jin, Rachel, and Kokonoe keep their asshole nature and it just sounds like Ragna is the only one allowed to grow while everyone else stays an asshole because it sounds more selfless and heroic for him to “fight for people in spite of their flaws” or some BS like that. Ragna’s "The world constantly tries to fuck me over, my allies are either assholes who give me shit about crap I barely even understand or care about, or are elementary schoolers in young-women’s bodies. I AM LIVID RIGHT NOW!” is just more relatable than “I hate all people and want to kill my brother but it is okay because I was able to keep on a cool headed mask for most of my life” or ‘I am the smartest person in this room and you will bow before me”

Now I am willing to admit that Ragna is far from perfect. I can acknowledge that he has his own flaws. In fact I have to bring up this idea: Say Rachel and Jubei were able to tell Ragna everything from the beginning. About the Murakumos, about Terumi’s plans, about Amaterasu, everything. Would Ragna even care? Like I said he probably just wants to kill Terumi and is willing to be arrested or die fighting him (Jubei did tell him to take responsibility for his actions), and he has no reason to care for the world. Another reason why he probably doesn’t put much thought into the cosmic BS that Jubei and Rachel try to cryptically tell him. He doesn’t exactly have 100 years of wisdom or was studying the Boundary for years, and even then he has no reason to care.

Another point against him: He immediately says he is gonna have to kill Sayanami. This, after he just told Rachel that “No, we are not going to kill Noel to stop Mu-12, I am going to save her” and did just that, sees his little sister (because the game is treating Sayanami as his only sister) being possessed by a Death goddess and is just like “*shrugs* oh well”. Either A. her being Imperator of the NOL takes priority over being his sister which says a lot about his priorities (he never even tries to bring up that Terumi may be mind controlling her), or B. He just gave up, which again, is out of character given the LAST GAME! Why is he not trying to find a way to save Saya, his ACTUAL SISTER, when he sacrificed his other arm just to save a girl that LOOKS like her!?

So yeah, Ragna is far from normal. His sense of empathy and care for his fellow man should be all messed up due to his upbringing but it isn’t because the plot refuses to acknowledge the ramifications of these convoluted backgrounds. Rachel, Jin, and Kokonoe are assholes and it isn’t funny, having a cool head doesn’t make it better. They may be justified in wanting to see the bigger picture but that doesn’t excuse being assholes and Ragna’s annoyance at the world is way more relatable. But, Ragna is still a flawed being and not everything he does is justifiable but whether that is the characters’ fault or the writings fault is up for debate.

Might write more on this, hence why I made this a part 1, but this was a pretty long rant.

[milkiane]

revelations and confessions

pairings: regulus black x reader

warnings: mentions of food, mention of abuse, manipulative parents, getting tied up, jily, implied wolfstar

word count: 5548

note: for @rcwenaclaw’s writing challenge — this is my favorite fic so far <3 s/o to @iwritesiriusly and @hellounicorn for listening to me rant and and rave about y/n and reggie, u’re the best mwah

“... and you would be married to the crowned heir of grimmauld by the end of the month,” your father declared.

if you have been listening to what you’ve been blindly agreeing to, you would have had the opportunity to assert your own appraisals of the sudden betrothal.

you choked on your food, earning concerned gasps and theatrical pats by the maids, “‘m fine, ‘m fine,”

your parents stared at you with iffy looks as you cleared your throat, “i thought we’ve agreed years ago that i wouldn’t be betrothed to some high-strung bloke i’ve never met before?”

your mother pursed her lips before giving you a well-mannered response, “well, dear, we ought to make some amends with that agreement,”

you just stared at her with a blank expression so she continued, “and we believe that it would be for the amelioration of our country, considering that the blacks are quite exceptional and-”

“and rich?” you smiled derisively, cutting her off.

your father looked around the royal maids and guards around the dining room, “may you excuse us for a moment?” to which they nodded and left.

he sighed, “look, y/n, i’m aware that you’re upset-”

you scoffed, “i am more than upset, father. you agreed that i will be married on my own time, on my own accord,”

“and i am the king, you ought to meet my commands.” your father bellowed, slamming the silver utensils on the table, making you and your mother flinch.

he cleared his throat, calming himself down, “tell your matron to arrange your attire for this week, we must meet the blacks tomorrow evening at the grand chateau, and i shan’t hear any more complaints.”

“yes, father,” you mumbled, excusing yourself from the table to make your way towards your bedroom, eyes becoming glassy from the upcoming tears.

you arrived at the chateau a few hours before the royal gathering with the blacks, meaning you would have enough time to devise an escape plan.

you haven’t spoken to your parents unless you’re absolutely required to, you know that you shouldn’t be disobeying them, but they should have known from just acknowledging your mindset and behavior.

you weren’t the usual prim and proper princess, no. you are your own person, you’re noble when strictly necessary, but, in all honesty, your personality was far from dainty.

you wouldn’t have chosen to have this life if you could. as fun as it was to play dress up in magnificent ball gowns, you would have chosen a life full of adventures, skinny jeans, crop tops, and dyed hair instead.

the matron knocked on your door, bringing in the gorgeous dress robes that you’re supposed to wear for later evening.

you gratefully smiled at her, asking her to give yourself some time to prepare by yourself until the formal reception.

as you hung it over with your other dresses and gowns, you walked towards the balcony, breathing in some fresh air. it had a clear view of the beautiful gardens of the chateau, the same balconies from your left and right.

you flopped yourself down on the queen-sized bed, staring at the ceiling as you thought of possible ways to avoid the betrothal.

none of your ideas sounded good enough, so you turned on the television in front of your bed to distract yourself from the inevitable proposal.

flipping through the channels, you stopped to watch audrey hepburn’s roman holiday.

when you’ve watched the scene where she snuck out of the castle, an idea popped up in your head. you knew it was impossible, of course, but it was worth a shot.

you glanced at the clock, you still had at least an hour and a half before the matron would come back to get you.

grabbing the satchel you’ve bought at a fair once, you made your way towards the elegant bathroom. you shuffled through the things, you knew that if your mother found out about your clandestine possessions, she would go calling you atrocious for merlin knows how long.

you slipped on your cargo shorts and a halter top. you stared at your long hair, you knew that if you wanted to slip away easily from the guards’ line of vision, you had to make some adjustments.

you grabbed the scissors from the corner of the countertop, taking a deep breath before snipping a lengthy portion.

you let out a hushed squeal, laughing as you stared at the chopped-off hair. you continued cropping and trimming until your hair became an uneven bob cut.

not bad, you grinned, cutting a few more strands to add curtain bangs, impeccable.

you scuffled deeper into the bag, your hand retrieving a bagged pink wig. perfect.

you started packing a few essential needs in your satchel.

you looked out the window, the sun had set an hour ago, meaning it was dark out. which also means it would be easier for you to sneak out.

you had at least ten minutes before meeting the blacks so you immediately stared across the room, looking for something to act as a rope.

stopping at the closet of gowns, you groaned in reluctance. you loved your gowns too much but you wouldn’t risk getting married, so you grabbed the scissors, ripping them up and tying them together.

once you’ve ensured that it was tight enough, you fastened it around the huge handles of the door and threw your makeshift rope out the balcony.

when you heard the whispers and footsteps of people coming you hastily grabbed your bag and ran towards the balcony.

you carefully grabbed onto the silk, lowering yourself down.

a noise from your right caught your attention, making you freeze. you snapped your head to the balcony next to you and made eye contact with a boy doing the same thing.

your prolonged eye contact was cut short when the doors to your room burst open, making you yelp in surprise as your rope had a sudden shift.

you could hear your matron holler for the guards, so you briskly lowered yourself faster, the friction of the silk burning against your hands.

you landed on your feet the same time as the mysterious guy did.

he made a run for it, dodging the bushes and flowers across the garden. his trousers not giving him any justice.

you were not too far behind him, thanking merlin that your yoga and workout lessons paid off.

the yells of the guards caught your attention, surrounding you and the man in the middle.

they all pointed their blades at you, making you gulp.

there goes your escape plan.

“which one of you has the princess?” a guard shouted, shifting the lamp between you and him. each one of the men slowly closing in on you.

that’s when you realized that they weren’t your palace guards. they were merely the chateau’s security.

“does it look like we have a princess with us?” the boy beside you refuted, gesturing between the both of you.

ten guards.

one of them asked their superintendent, “what was the description given?”

“long h/c hair, s/c skin, e/c eyes, last seen wearing a peach nightgown,”

they turned their gaze back at you, one of them approaching you to take a good look, “wait a minute,”

you sucked in a breath, but before any of you could make a move, the guy grabbed your hand and ran, swerving through the distracted guards.

“oi!”

but you already had a head start, you were out of the gates and into the forest the moment they called for backup.

you ran, and ran, and ran.

the adrenaline coursing in your veins had done nothing to stop you from running, it made you feel so free, so alleviated.

so alleviated that you didn’t notice the huge rock that made you stumble, but before you could even hit the ground, the man caught your arm, pulling you against him.

and you were certain that time stopped when you finally locked eyes with him. specks of green and blue surrounding his alluring hazel eyes.

they said that when you meet someone for the first time, they would either be nothing more than another face amongst the crowds of memories or a face that would be burning at the back of your mind for a long time.

it was the latter.

the moonlight was shining over the both of you, the soft light making him look so ethereal. his celestial facial structure giving the famed sculptures a run for their money.

regulus looked at you in awe, neglecting the fact that you almost fell flat on your face. his gaze fell onto your gentle e/c eyes, the smooth arch of your nose, and the sleek curve of the cupid’s bow on your lips.

you would’ve loved staying in that position, admiring the young man for the first time every chance you would be given, but alas, the distant shouts of the guards forbade you from doing it any longer.

“who are you, anyway?” the guy asked. after successfully carrying out your escape plan, with your pink wig askew, he offered to buy you a mug of warm butterbeer at the nearby pub; the leaky cauldron.

you removed the wig from your head’s hold, ruffling your hair a bit to soothe the headache. your eyes searched around the room, looking for a possible new name.

“erm,” guest singer, liane moonshine, “miliane…” holyhead harpies quidditch poster, “harper.” you finished, “miliane harper, yeah,”

he eyed you suspiciously as he took a sip from his drink, “alright, miliane harper, what’re you doing sneaking out’f the princess’ bedroom like that?”

“i could ask you the same thing, stranger,” you mused, fiddling with the straps of your satchel.

“regulus,” he said, “call me regulus,”

“what were you doing sneaking out next door, regulus?”

“i asked you first,” he said, shooting you a pointed look.

thinking of a reasonable explanation, you mumbled, “stealing?” you winced, cursing yourself for hesitating.

“a’right, here’s the deal, miliane harper, because i know f’myself that you aren’t who you claim to be and you certainly weren’t there to steal,” he whispered, leaning in ‘til his face was a few inches away from yours, “now, ‘m gonna ask you one last time, who. are. you?”

you gulped, faintly murmuring your answer, “the crowned heiress of diagon.”

“salazar,” regulus cursed, “you’re princess y/n?”

you shushed him, shoving your hand to cover his mouth as a few heads turned to look at the both of you. you were certain that your parents have sent a search team to look for you by now.

“yes, but be quiet, would you?” you hissed, retracting your hand to curtain your face with your hair, avoiding the curious gazes amongst the patrons.

he blinked at you, leaning back on his chair. he observed your appearance for a bit before snorting, “your hair, it’s uneven!”

your face flushed a deep shade of red, your hand automatically clutching your hair. you scowled at him, “how long have you been aching to tell me that?”

he chuckled, “ever since you took off your wig,” seeing that you rolled your eyes, he continued, “don’t worry, y/n, you look quite beauteous, if i must say.”

“i don’t require you to flatter me, regulus,” you scoffed, grabbing your mug to take a drink, though before the rim of the mug reached your lips, regulus set a few galleons down on the table and spoke up, “as fun as it was to meet you, your highness, i’ve got some places to go,”

“what?”

“good luck with this endeavor of yours, but i mustn’t risk being one of your accomplices,” he quipped, wearing his sweater, “fare thee well.”

it took you a moment to finish your drink and grab your things before leaving the low-lit pub. your eyes searched amongst the throng of people, trying to catch the sight of his brunette curls.

you hurried beside him, trying to avoid bumping into the others. you grew quite fond of the handsome lad who ran with you, despite the fact that he was still nothing but an enigma to you.

“mind if i join you?” you sought, clasping your hands in front of you, walking side-by-side with him.

regulus groaned silently, he looked down at you and sarcastically replied, “it’s a free country,”

you rolled your eyes and responded with a retort of your own, “actually, it’s a monarchy occupied by foreign oppressors.”

he ignored your sardonic comment and asked you a question to defuse the gauche atmosphere, “why’d you run away, princess?”

you looked at him, “y’know, i’m not really obliged to answer your question,”

“i… am well aware of that,” he huffed amusingly, “but given the fact that we’re going merlin knows where, i’d rather have a conversation going than walking in utter silence.”

regulus had a gist of why you ran away, assuming that you had the same reason as him.

you laughed softly before staring at your white tennis shoes, “‘ve been betrothed, and i was s’pposed to meet the lucky bloke who’ll have my hand in marriage,”

regulus swallowed the lump in his throat.

“what about you, regulus?” you asked, “why were you running away?”

“oh,” he let out a nervous laugh, “i- stealing.”

you gave him a keen look, “i used that excuse not too long ago, if you’ve forgotten,”

he smiled tensely, “f’real though, the prince owed me something, and i’d be pleased if he returned the favor.”

you huffed, not sure if you’d believe him, but thankfully for regulus, you caught sight of your palace guards questioning some people about your whereabouts, “shit,”

you immediately linked your arm with his and whispered, “palace guards, let’s go. just- act normal,”

he carefully unhooked your hold, opting to snake his arm around your waist instead, evidently making both of you flustered.

you let out a sigh of relief when you passed by them without causing any havoc, though it was short-lived when one of them called out, “excuse me, sir, ma’am?”

the both of you continued walking, slightly hurrying your steps.

regulus hauled a carriage and helped you get in, “godric’s hollow, please,”

the guards left standing behind, one of them writing down the descriptions of the suspicious couple and the carriage they’re in.

“where are we?” you asked, looking up at the lovely cottage amongst the rows of houses.

regulus sighed, “godric’s hollow,” he walked up from the gate and knocked on their doorstep, stepping back to wait for someone to open the door.

you hummed, “alright, but what exactly’re we doing here?”

merlin must’ve been on his side again because before he could even reply, a beautiful red-headed woman opened the door.

she must’ve been taken aback for a moment because her eyebrows shot up and mouth agape. she stuttered, “i- regulus, hey,”

“evans,” he nodded politely, “is, erm, sirius with you?”

she licked her lips, “it’s actually potter now,” she showed her wedding ring, “and uhm, yes, give me a moment.”

she shuffled back inside, letting the door open but didn’t make a move to invite you in.

“she’s lovely,” you jutted out your bottom lip.

“reggie?” another man, another attractive man, whom you were assuming was sirius, inquired.

“sirius,” he greeted.

the tension was so thick that you could feel it enveloping you with warmth. or that may just be because of the additional presence of the bespectacled man behind the redhead.

“i don’t mean to be rude but are we all going to just stand in here,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, “or are you gonna let us in?”

sirius looked at you in wonder, “i- oh, yes, yeah!”

the man whose presence was still looming over, blinked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips as he huffed amusingly at his best friend, letting you in. you looked around the house, the atmosphere giving you a sense of comfort and a feeling of home you’ve never felt.

“james potter,” he grinned at you, “and this is my lovely wife, lily.”

“y/n l/n, the heiress of dia--” you paused, “actually, it’s just y/n. sorry, force of habit.” you chuckled sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers as they looked at you in surprise.

you wondered if you could trust that they wouldn’t send you back to your kingdom.

“you’re the crowned princess of diagon?” lily spluttered.

you smiled bashfully, “i may or may not be?”

“merlin, what’re you doing here? guards’re all over the place, knocking on doors n’all,” sirius remarked, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i also may or may not have ran away?” you grinned, scrunching your nose which both the black brothers found quite endearing.

“i would love to continue the chit chat, but d’you mind letting us stay here for a while?” regulus interrupted, but before they could even answer, a knock was heard from the door, “diagon sovereignty wards, we’ve got a couple of questions to ask.”

you cursed silently, sirius and lily quietly ushered you into the living room whilst james went to get the door.

“good evening, sir, we’ve been alerted that you’ve had some contact with these people?” a guard asked, pulling up a sketch of you and regulus.

james smiled warmly, “i’m sorry, but i reckon you’ve got the wrong person. ‘tis just me and my wife, and my best mate in ‘ere,”

they nodded politely, “that’ll be all. thank you, sir, have a great evening.”

as soon as he closed the door, james sauntered back into the living room, looking at the worrying looks on your and regulus’ faces.

he and lily exchanged glances before she smiled softly, “i’ll go prepare the guest room.”

it was deep into the night, the potter household was surrounded by a quiet and serene atmosphere as the people living in it had already dozed off, yet you and regulus were far from drifting off to a dreamy slumber.

both of you had your backs against the headboard of the queen-sized bed you were supposed to share, staring into the void of nothingness as you let the comfortable aura rage around you.

“regulus?” you whispered. as if once you’ve spoken even a tad bit louder, the brittleness of the atmosphere would break.

he turned to look at you, “yeah?”

“what’s your biggest regret in life?” you wondered, voice laced with drowsiness. the adrenaline from a while ago slowly fading away, now being replaced with exhaustion.

regulus pondered for a moment. he had a lot of regrets, letting his parents abuse him and sirius, letting sirius just leave him alone in the dark and lonely castle, not living his best childhood. he had plenty, and lying to you was one of them.

he hummed, “i suppose being a coward,”

you fluffed your pillows and lowered yourself on the bed. you yawned, “i don’t think you’re a coward, regulus. after all, you just ran away with a princess.”

regulus looked at you fondly, watching as you slowly succumbed to sleep. he smiled softly, “yeah,”

your stay with the potters, and sirius, has been wonderful. you’ve felt more at home in godric’s hollow than in your palace. no amount of grandeur wealth would compare to the amount of love and belonging you’ve felt in your sojourn.

regulus has successfully managed to keep their mouths shut about him being a prince as well. the conversation and intention still went unnoticed by you.

you and lily have been the bestest of friends. the sweet girl that made you feel more at home than anyone else could, an evident friendship blossoming into a charming one.

james and sirius welcomed you into their arms as if you were one of their long-lost mates, and quite literally if you must say. they locked you beneath their armpits and ruffled your hair one game night.

you were convinced that james was the human embodiment of a ball of sunshine, never failing to put a smile on your faces. sirius had more of a flirty demeanor, which you’ve brushed off with a quip or two of your own.

“does the princess have a prince charming or do i have to step up?”

“not every prince is charming, sirius.”

and regulus— you’ve grown closer to regulus than you’ve ever had with anyone, getting to know each other more, spending more late nights talking about everything and nothing, and not that any of you would admit it, but inevitably falling in love was part of the list.

you and lily were in her room, she was lending you some clothes to wear as all of you have made a plan to go to the market fair in town.

james was on the phone with remus, asking him to meet up at the place whilst sirius and regulus were in the living room, catching up after a few years of not seeing each other.

sirius has grown quite fond of the princess. not that he was catching feelings, but a date wouldn’t sound too bad, if he must say, so he asked his brother, “d’you reckon y/n would fancy a date w’me? maybe i could bring her to hogsmeade,”

and to say that he was dumbstruck when he heard that was an understatement, “what? no, you can’t,”

sirius looked at him with a confused expression, “how come?”

regulus hesitated, “she’s… betrothed.”

the eldest black brother scoffed, “yeah, t’you, and she doesn’t even know that you’re that bloke,”

regulus shook his head, sitting up straight as he heard your giggles from upstairs, “just- don’t, sirius.”

padfoot grinned at his brother in realization, “by the love of merlin! you love her, don’t you?” he teased, bumping their shoulders together.

“let’s go, handsomes, i’m not getting any younger here!” you laughed. regulus thought you looked angelic, the white dress hugging your curves in the most surreal way possible, the smile on your face proving that any blue day would get better with just a glimpse of it.

“this isn’t over, reggie,” sirius sang mockingly, getting up and linking his arm with yours.

the market fair in godric’s hollow is incredibly enchanting. fairy lights were hanging above the booths, multitudes of colorful stalls, the smell of the amazing street food, and the bubbly spirits of the people mingling around had you in a state of awe.

you went in separate groups, lily with james, sirius went off to find remus, and you were stuck with regulus— not that you were complaining, really.

you dragged regulus by one of the stalls that sold clothes, wanting to buy a few to avoid borrowing more from lily.

you were currently strolling around with him, your shopping bags in his hold as he insisted to carry them for you.

whilst you stopped to look at the fancy daggers, regulus caught sight of a gorgeous necklace. convincing himself that it would only take a few minutes, he left your side and onto the booth to buy the jewelry for you.

once you’ve managed to choose a design, you paid for the dagger and strapped it on your thigh with the holster you bought, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

when he didn’t reply, you looked up to where he was standing just a few moments ago to find that he wasn’t by your side.

you crooned your neck to look around but instead of seeing him, you saw your palace guards slowly approaching you.

you cursed, turning around and running away from them, making them step up quickly and ran after you.

“regulus!” you called out, hoping that he’ll hear you.

“regulus!” you tried once more, and he finally heard you. he immediately pocketed the paid necklace and dropped the bags as he tried to run after you, “y/n!” but it was too late.

the guards were already surrounding you, two of them managed to carry you to a carriage while you thrashed around, “let me go! i don’t want to go back, please!” you cried, “regulus!”

regulus was running around the big plaza, trying to figure out where your voice was coming from.

the carriage was already a menacing dot as it continued to advance forward, leaving regulus frustrated and broken.

“what were you thinking running away like that?” your father barked, pacing back and forth on the castle’s lounge, “d’you know how ashamed we were when we found out that you snuck off? even more so whe-”

your father stopped talking when your mother gave him a stern look. an expression you know all too well when they didn’t want you to know something.

“it came to our attention that you ran away with regulus, yes?” your mother asked, giving you a tense smile.

you didn’t answer. looking at your parents with hatred as your eyes blurred with tears.

she sighed, “well, if you must know, he was the one who called for the guards. he knew about the huge amount of payment if someone gave you up. he contacted the palace guards before you even stepped foot in that repugnant marketplace.”

“no,” you let out a teary laughed, “regulus would never do that,”

he would never. especially after all those moments you’ve shared, those constant touches, the sneaky eye contacts. he would never.

“no? then where was he when you called for him?” your mother scoffed, a sly smirk on her face.

you glared at them, taking a shaky breath, “i-”

she tutted, “i’m not done just yet, my dear daughter. you will be married to lord riddle, on the contrary, seeing that the walburga and orion’s son was quite… negligent,”

“i will not be married to anyone!” you objected, “if there’s anyone i’d rather get married to, it would be regulus.”

your mother let out a cackle, “quite amusing if you asked me, dear, because regulus was the prince you were supposed to marry!”

you froze, managing to croak out a small, “what?”

your father chuckled, “oh, don’t tell me he didn’t tell you that?”

you swallowed the forming lump in your throat, “i hope you rot in hell.”

your mother scowled at you, “guards! bring her to the room.”

“i don’t need bodyguards surrounding me all the time, mother,” you spat, “i may be of the royal bloodline, but i am no weakling.”

“... and don’t forget to tie her up,” she smirked.

before you could even react, you were hauled up by your arms, screaming at them to let you go.

you made sure to give them a hard time while they walked up the stairs. once arriving at your room, they threw you on the carpeted floor with a right thump.

you flailed around, whimpering as they tied your arms and legs, “stop, stop, stop. please,” but they paid you no mind, leaving you alone in the dark.

after a few hours of trying to remove the rope from your limbs, and a few chaffings later, you ultimately gave up on trying. you didn’t know what your parents’ plan was but you were quite grateful for the noise and crashing outside your door.

crawling a bit towards your door, your forearm brushed against something rough on your thighs. you cursed yourself for being dense, and lifted your dress a bit, carefully grabbing your new rose gold dagger from its holster.

when you heard the jingling of your door, you hastily tried to cut the rope from your wrists.

you cussed as you dropped it on the floor, you tried to get a hold of it once more when the door suddenly burst open.

“y/n!” regulus breathed out in relief, he rushed by your side, grabbing your fallen dagger and cutting the ropes. your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, before turning your gaze to the man you’ve fallen in love with, the same man who lied to you.

sirius approached the both of you, trying to tell you to hurry up before the guards caught up with them, “let’s go!”

“are you alright?” regulus asked, cupping your face in his hands.

you glared at him, rubbing your arms to soothe the burning, “don’t touch me.”

you stood up, grabbing the dagger from his hand, and placed it back on your holster. you snatched your satchel from the floor and started packing a few necessities that could fit in.

regulus looked at you in confusion and hurt, standing up as you shuffled around the room, “what’s wrong?”

you ignored him, shoving past him, and made your way towards sirius, who just shrugged at his brother.

the three of you sneaked past the guards and the members of the order, successfully escaping and meeting up with lily and james at the entrance.

“oh, merlin!” lily brought you in a hug, “are you alright, y/n?”

“lily,” you breathed out, hugging her back. you closed your eyes in relief, letting out a teary laugh, “i’m alright, don’t worry,”

“we’ve got to go, they’ll catch up soon enough if we don’t leave,” james said, “‘m sure frank and the rest got ‘em distracted for a while.”

arriving back at the potter household, they let you retire back at the guest room, regulus following in suit.

“hey, y/n, what’s wrong?” regulus asked, grabbing your arm so you’re facing him.

you looked at him in anger and hurt, “you lied to me!”

“wha- what did i lie about? i don’t understand,” regulus was dumbstruck, he didn’t know what you were talking about until he remembered all about the betrothal. he looked down in guilt.

“stop the act, regulus. you were the one i was supposed to marry,” you whispered, “why did you lie to me?”

regulus sighed, sitting down on the bed as he ran a hand through his hair, “i was scared, alright? i was scared because i fell for you, y/n, and when i found out that you didn’t want to marry me, i didn’t know what to do… so i lied because i was afraid that you’d go if i told you that i was the prince.”

“and it’s terrifying how i would’ve given you the stars if you asked,” he chuckled softly, “but i chose to keep that to myself because that’s how much of a coward i am…”

“reg, i didn’t even know that it was you,” you frowned, expression softening as you sat down beside him, “and i frankly don’t care about the stars, or anything at all, honestly, because all i want is you, regulus,”

“don’t be so sure about that, y/n,” he breathed out, “if you’ve known that it was me, you wouldn’t agree to marry me.”

“you’re right,” you nodded, smiling softly, “i wouldn’t marry you because of some stupid betrothal, i’d marry you because i love you, regulus black, and i know f’myself that you’re the man that i would love to spend the rest of my life with.”

he looked at you with adoration and love in his eyes, a small smile adorning his lips.

regulus tucked the loose strand of hair behind your hair, his eyes shifting from your eyes down to your lips, “may i?”

not trusting your words, you nodded instead, slowly leaning in. regulus cupped the side of your face with his hand, your hand running through his brown curls as the both of you drew closer. eyes fluttering close as you felt the soft, warmth of his lips caress your own.

after a few moments, he pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against your own, smiling softly at the result of the sudden revelations and confessions.

“let’s run away, regulus,” you whispered, “away from here and our wretched parents.”

“yeah?” he chuckled softly, “where’d you want to go, m’love?”

“italy.”

“... and they lived happily ever after.” you smiled softly.

“mum, what happened in italy?” your daughter asked, hugging her teddy bear as she looked up at you and regulus with her doe eyes.

regulus hummed, “they settled down in florence, italy, with the help of the marauders-”

“dad, who are the marauders?” your son questioned, exchanging looks with his sister and his cousin, harry.

“they’re the best friends of the prince and princess, orion,” james grinned, snaking his arm around lily’s waist.

“what happened next, aunt y/n?”

“well, they had a small wedding by the beach, they traveled around the world, had kids, and are now telling their stories to their adorable kids and godson,” you smiled, “and the said kids and godson should be asleep in the next five minutes.”

the three of them let out simultaneous groans. you, regulus, and the marauders had small smiles on your faces, finding the situation amusing.

“good night, my darlings, we love you,” you and regulus kissed their foreheads and tucked them in bed, as lily and james did the same with harry.

after ensuring that they were fast asleep, you and the rest went back down to the living room.

sirius grinned, grabbing the firewhiskeys and crisps out of the bag, “they finally went to sleep?”

“yeah,” you smiled, fiddling with the moonstone necklace regulus bought you from the fair, “guess our story worked perfectly fine as a bedtime tale, didn’t it, reggie?”

“indeed it did, m’love,” he kissed the top of your head, sitting down on the couch for your traditional game night.

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