#space wizards and curses

[bittershins]

I've been thinking about star wars and the expectations and features of certain types of storytelling - mythopoetic, war drama, politicial commentary, tragedy n all that jazz - a good bit lately, but ever since I finished screechers reach I've been caught up about folklore and fairytales as a bit of worldbuilding. I wanna know what Jedi fables look like

[cptnbeefheart]

this old world may never change and sometimes i wonder: do you ever think of me?

[pawbeanies]

getting hit with the "feeling touch starved need to be Held" curse so hard like there is an evil wizard somewhere who hath set a hex upon me for all time . the only cure for such a powerful curse is like maybe a hug perchance

[theramblingvoid]

Therapy is boring. Talking it out is boring. I want a wizard to take a look around my brain go “wow man it’s fucked up in here” and start pulling out wires and rearranging furniture

[iniquity-fr]

actually thinking up lore thoughts a little around the way ive decided some of my guys (like vinheim for example) have jewelry just sort of built into their skin/scales. i want to give that actual meaning i think. sign of powerful magic users or smth like that

[magdelanesingerin]

Eating a bowl of icecream topped with marshmallows that he picked out of a box of Lucky Charms while doing one of those 24 carat gold and snail mucin face masks.

What is Jaskier doing right now?

(Pls I miss him. Let’s be silly and answer)

[ellecdc]

Mother, i have another poly!moonwater request but its a little angsty and tbh its probs mostly Barty appreciation because i 100% believe he'd be the best support system.

So, it doesnt happen very often but Reggie and reader are fighting. Idk what about, maybe she put herself in unnecessary danger or hid a wound?? But Remus has to take Reggies side or maybe he refuses to get involved.

Anyway, as a result she runs to Barty (i imagine she's his James and hes her Sirius) because he's her safe space and is surprisingly soft and comforting. If its readers fault he would be gently upset with her but calmly talk it out with her however he's still on her side and would hide her away for a couple days and let the boys panic for a minute because thats his person aaaaaand he is a little insane.

Hope that all made sense, and then a happy ending or i will cry.

Love youuuuuuu 🫶

'happy ending or I will cry' say less, babes 🫡 Barty to the rescue

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who's best friends with Barty

CW: mentions of fainting, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blowjobs, Barty wishing people dead (what's new?)

Remus, throughout his life, has not been a stranger to conflict. His father spent Remus’ earliest years in constant battle at the Ministry fighting against werewolf rights. That conflict turned into Remus’ own lifelong curse of lycanthropy as a form of revenge. Remus’ muggle mother and wizard father spent many years in conflict over how to best love and support their werewolf son. Remus and his father experienced a lot of conflict when Dumbledore invited Remus to attend Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy. Remus experienced a lot of conflict with pureblood supremacists at school. Remus experienced conflict with his own friends, namely Sirius, after an unfortunate ‘prank’ that nearly cost both Remus and another student their lives.

But one aspect of Remus’ life that had yet to be a source of conflict had been his relationship with you and Regulus.

It seems almost unfathomable that the three of you managed to intertwine your lives without so much as a clash, but it was true. Regulus brought a confident and assured energy to the relationship, you brought an empathetic and quiet energy, and Remus supposed he was perhaps the most easygoing of the three of you, and that was good for the group. 

It is because of this lack of conflict that Remus was very confused to walk into the private study room that the three of you had reserved to find you and Regulus in the middle of a very heated spat.

“And since when don’t you tell me these kinds of things?” Regulus barked angrily at you. Remus actually had to shake his head as if he were hallucinating; he could have easily mistaken Regulus for his brother who was far more hot headed.

“I didn’t know I had to keep you posted on every little thing that happens, Regulus; I was busy.” You spat back.

“Whoa, okay. What have I missed?” Remus asked cautiously, placing his book bag down slowly on the table as if the situation in front of him were a live wire.

“Your girlfriend” Regulus spat as if girlfriend was a dirty word, “fainted today. And I had to hear about it from Pandora!”

Remus ignored most of the things that came out of Regulus’ mouth at the sound of ‘fainted’.

“Dovey! What happened?” He asked, looking to you in horror.

“What happened is she’s been overworking, under-sleeping, under-eating, and she needs to learn to say no to people!”

You scoffed at that. “You mean learn to say no to McLaggen. Just say it Regulus, this about me tutoring the sod in Herbology.”

“This isn’t about some bloke, Y/N!”

“You fainted?” Remus interjected, looking you over as if he may see signs of a fall. He did suppose you looked slightly peaky, but you were clearly worked up over whatever was going on with Regulus.

“Only a little.” You mumbled; voice still taut with impatience though you lowered the derision in your voice when you spoke to him.

“Right. And tell me, how does one only faint a little?” Regulus sneered.

You met him head on, grunting “Knock it off, Regulus. I mean it.” 

Remus noticed a slight quiver in your lip, but you stood your ground. He couldn’t say he completely disagreed with Regulus, but he didn’t think shouting at you like this was particularly helpful.

“Dove, we’re only worried about you. It makes us nervous if you’re not taking care of yourself and we don’t know about it, if we at least knew-” He tried, but you scoffed again, but this time at Remus. 

“Of course you’d side with him. I don’t need the two of you looking after me!”

“Well apparently you do.” Regulus barked. You didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.

“Can we just talk about this later, please?” You asked quietly, eyes turning towards the table.

“No, we’re talking about this now. Because Salazar only knows what I’ll be hearing from Pandora next!”

“Maybe I didn’t say anything because this is exactly how I knew you would act.” You glowered at him.

“Are you even supposed to be out of the infirmary yet? What were Madame Pomfrey’s instructions?” Regulus demanded.

“I’m not doing this right now. You’re acting-”

“What were the matron’s instructions?” He asked again, voice threateningly low.

“Stop it, Regulus, I'm ser-”

“When I ask a question, you answer me.” Regulus ordered; voice booming and full of authority. 

You paused in packing up your bag to look at Regulus, holding his gaze as if daring him to utter another word. The atmosphere went from the heat of battle to ice cold in a matter of seconds.

Remus took one last look at Regulus, knowing this would be it; this was how they would lose Regulus. He’d have to tell Sirius that his brother was dead, and it was just better if they all moved on. Cause of death? Oh, Y/N burnt him to ashes with nothing but a glare.

You dropped your bag back onto the table and took a step towards Regulus, dropping into a verydramatic curtsey, making sure Regulus watched.

“Yes, Master Regulus.” You sneered with contempt before returning to your full height, eyes still never leaving Regulus’. “I seem to have forgotten myself. I live to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

And with that, you snatched your book bag and left the study room, slamming the door behind you. 

Remus was admittedly very surprised everyone survived this ordeal, though he took a moment to examine Regulus’ form.

“Well...” Remus started. “You’re not bleeding.”

Regulus let out a breath he’d been holding and sunk into his chair. “I don’t...I don’t understand. Was I wrong?”

Remus felt like this may have been a trick question. “Well, I don’t think you were right.”

Regulus looked over miserably at that, eyes begging Remus for comfort. Remus unfortunately couldn’t give it. 

“I’m sorry, love. You went too far.”

“I should go after her.” Regulus sighed, looking like he was thinking of getting up.

“Do you value your life?”

“Remus...”

“You need to let her cool off, Reg.”

“But-”

“I mean it, Regulus.” Remus said sternly, raising his eyebrows at the shorter boy. “You were too angry to see it but she was very upset – probably even more so if she’s already not feeling well.”

Regulus crossed his arms not unlike a petulant child being told they weren’t allowed to have a cookie before supper.

“Fine, but soon it won’t just be Y/N I have to convince to forgive me.”

Remus, completely unsympathetic to his boyfriend’s grumblings, smirked as he took out his homework. 

“Well, perhaps that’s what you get for acting like your father.”

Regulus let out a very inelegant groan and let his head fall onto the table with a thunk.

Everyone had their person, for better or for worse. Sirius had James, Regulus had Pandora, Remus had Lily, and you...well, you had Barty.

And perhaps whatever Barty lacked in terms of critical thinking skills and sanity, he made up for in terms of loyalty and enthusiasm. 

You knocked on the door to Barty’s dorm from the hallway when you heard a muffled “occupado!” through the wood.

“Barty? It's me.” You called quietly, hearing the sound of a locking charm being lifted from the door immediately.

You pushed open the door to see Barty laying back against his pillow with a cigarette in his hand and Evan Rosier laying on top of him with a book as he read. 

“Hiya, treasure. Where’d ya leave Reggie?” Barty asked, blowing smoke away from Evan’s book.

“We got into a fight.” You admitted quietly. 

Suddenly, Barty’s cigarette was flicked towards the fireplace and Evan was, very roughly and unceremoniously, dumped from his lap.

“Ah! Fuckin’ hells Junior, what was that for?” Evan muttered as he rubbed the back of his head, standing from his newfound place on the floor.

“Out! I need time with my beloved!” Barty squawked, sitting up further against the headboard and opening his arms for you as an invitation.

“Wha- what do you mean? I’m your sodding boyfriend!” Evan beseeched. Barty spared the boy a glance at that.

“Exactly, you’re only my boyfriend, Y/N is my soulmate. Now out with you.” He dismissed, returning his eyes to you. 

You (somewhat meekly as you passed Evan) made your way over and crawled into Barty’s lap as Evan let himself out of the dorm room (his own dorm room, mind you).

“Alright, my sweet treasure, spill. What are his crimes?” He murmured into the top of your head.

“He yelled at me.” You said meekly, voice turning up at the end as you felt tears well in your eyes.

“Dementor’s kiss.” He proclaimed without hesitation. “Egregious, absolutely horrific crime.”

“Barty...” You moaned.

“What? I’m not kidding, I want him dead. Yelling at my sweet girl like that. For shame.”

You let out a sigh as the first few tears fell onto Barty’s shirt. You knew he was seriously hurt on your behalf for not saying anything about ruining his silk button up.

“What reason could he possibly have had to yell at you?” He murmured again into your hair, rocking you back and forth.

“I fainted... in class today.” You admitted with a grimace.

As you expected, Barty paused in his movements and lifted you up off of his body to examine you.

“Fainted!?” He hollered. “How, treasure?”

You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to hide your face in Barty’s chest again. Thankfully, he allowed you to do so.

“I don’t know...Madame Pomfrey said it could be a few things. Not enough sleep, not eating enough, stress.”

“And he yelled at you for that?”

“Well...sort of.”

Barty hummed in acknowledgement but allowed you to sit in silence as he rubbed circles onto your back.

“He was mad because he found out from Pandora.” You admitted. 

“Hmm, sounds like Regulus felt stupid. Not an easy task, sweets, Salazar knows I’ve tried.” Barty determined.

“How do you mean?” you asked into his chest.

“He just always seems to know the answers when I-”

“Not that, Barty!”

“He didn’t know you had fainted, and it sounds like he perhaps didn’t even realize you were unwell. He would have thought that made him look like a fool, which it does.” He explained, lacing the words at the end of his sentence with disdain.

“Barty...” you chided.

“I mean, come on treasure; you have two boyfriends, and one of them is a Slytherin! You’re telling me neither of them noticed their most perfect, sweetest angel was struggling? Foolish. You can’t blame Lupin, though, he is a Gryffindor after all; hanging with the likes of those oafs ought to cost him a couple brain cells each day. Hey, listen... you say the word and you and Lupin are more than welcome to shack up with me and Evan.”

“Barty!”

“I’m just saying!” He yielded, holding his hands up in surrender. His faux-serious façade fell away when he noticed the corner of your lips quirk into a smile.

“I’m sorry he yelled at you.” He offered.

You half sighed half groaned as you fell back into Barty’s chest.

“I guess he was just worried about me...” You relented.

“Yes. But don’t make it easy on him, okay? It’s fun to see the sod sweat every now and again.”

“Regulus...I don’t know if this is a good idea. I really think we should let her come to us.” Remus muttered quietly from behind Regulus, but he wasn’t having any of it.

This had gone on too long, in Regulus’ opinion. You were hiding in Barty’s dorm room whilst Regulus stayed in Remus’, and while he loved Remus, he hated Gryffindor, and he missed you.

“Enough is enough, Remus. I want her back.” Regulus declared as he stepped up to his door and banged on the back of it none too gently.

“Junior!” He barked through the door. “I want my girlfriend back!” 

“No one’s home!” Barty called through the door. 

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back into his head even he was sure they were going to get stuck there.

He put his hand on the door handle and was hit immediately with a localized stinging jinx, causing him to rip his hand back off of it and hold it to his chest protectively. 

“Ow! Fuck Junior, what did you do!?” He called through the door. 

“Leave a message!”

“Oh, I’ll leave you a message alright.” Regulus spat.

“Dovey?” Remus tried calling gently through the door. “Can we come in? Please?”

It was quiet for a moment before Barty answered for you. “No.”

Remus shared an eyeroll of his own before cautiously touching the doorknob – apparently it had only been cursed against Regulus. 

“Okay, I’m opening the door.” Remus warned.

“I wouldn’t do that! I’m shagging your girl in here.” Barty called.

Regulus watched Remus’ face and knew two things to be true: that Remus was 97% sure that wasn’t true, and that Moony was very worried about that 3%. Ultimately, it appeared that Moony had won, causing Remus to barrel into the room rather ungraciously. 

Barty was sat in a chair with his feet kicked up on a desk and a book in his hand, which he lowered to examine the two intruders casually.

“That was very rude, you know. What would you have done if the lady had been indecent.” Barty scolded, using his book to point at your curled up form on Regulus’ bed, pointedly facing away from Remus and Regulus. 

Regulus felt his heart crack painfully at the sight, sharing a look with Remus who gave him an encouraging nod.

“Amour?” Regulus called gently, moving around the side of the bed in an attempt to see you. His heart cracked again when you hid your face in your arm.

“Please, my love. I’m...I’m so sorry.” He pleaded, kneeling down in front of you and cautiously stroking your arm. “I should never have spoken to you like that, I...I was wrong. And rude. And out of line. I’m sorry. Please? Please look at me, mon amour, laisse-moi arranger ça?” 

You turned your head up at that, and the final splinter that carved Regulus’ heart into two was the tear stains on your cheeks. 

“Oh, mon amour, je suis vraiment désolé. Je suis le pire, je suis vraiment désolé.” 

“Your fancy sweet talk won’t do you any good here, Black!” Barty hollered from his place across the room. “I’ve already told her that she and Lupin are more than welcome down here with me.” He added with a lascivious wink in Remus’ direction.

Regulus could see Remus’ cheeks pink at the compliment, but he also gulped at the threat.

“Say it ain’t so, mon amour.” He said to you, caressing your arm with one hand and delicately taking yours in his other, bringing it to his lips for a delicate kiss. “Is it finally happening, are you going to leave me for another? Surely you can do better than Junior, non?”

Regulus’ heart sped up almost double time as you offered him a watery smile. “No.”

“No? You can’t do better than Junior?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes as you sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away. “No, I’m not leaving you, you sod.”

“Oh, thank gods.” Regulus sighed dramatically, letting his head fall into the bed in front of him. He heard you chuckle above him, and you moved your hand into his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“Oi! How come he gets head scratches for being a wanker and I get jilted?” Remus pouted from the middle of the room.

“Oh, come here lover boy.” Barty cooed at him, opening his arms and spreading his legs to make room from the lycanthrope.

Remus let out an awkward ‘erm’ from the middle of the room before you chuckled and invited Remus to join you for his own head scratches.

He opted to curl up behind you as the big spoon and wrap his arms protectively around your middle, adding his hand to Regulus’ shoulder as he still knelt on the floor at the head of the bed. Perhaps not the best angle for head scratches, but he was clearly very happy with his current predicament.

“Right then; have either of you tossers seen Rosier?” Barty asked as he stood from his chair.

“Common room.” Remus and Regulus answered in unison.

“Thanks.” He said as he made his way to the door. “Stay out of the bathroom for a while, yeah? I owe that sod so many blowjobs after all of this.” 

[8-0mph]

Forbidden Dream

This is all of my Adventure Time AU in chronological story order. Thanks to my friend for proof-read.

Act I: Prismo and Betty

This takes some time after the events of F&C. Prismo and Scrabby inhabit the TR(TimeRoom) and Golbetty has gotten restless with her time in space. She decides to reach out to other multiversal beings, but no one wants to associate with Golb. She finally finds someone that puts up with her ..that being the Wishmaster.

Prismo is scared of Golbetty at first, especially Scrabby since he has a little bit of history with her. He scurries off or hides behind Prismo when she is in the TR. To Scrabbys surprise, Pris and Betty hit it off and become good friends. They find they have something in common, which is their “human” past. Theyre both mortals turned to immortals.

The duo start off by drinking and making fanfics together, but then Betty proposes the idea of making these fics “real”. Prismo is hesitant at first but lately he doesn’t mind breaking the rules.

At first they visit universes that Prismo considers safe. They treat them like vacations, and a lot of these worlds do not have the typical AT characters. Theyre peaceful docile places. Prismo gets daring, telling Betty that he wants to feel alive again. The two of them agree to visit a dangerous world, the Vampire Kingdom.

Notes:

- Betty chose her physical form to look like magic Betty because she felt it would be strange to appear as she normally did in the past.

- Prismos physical form is what he looked like as a younger human. He thought it would be more fitting for the “adventure”. Also.. He hates how clothing feels on him, so the see-through garments suffice.

- Scrabby is not happy about their friendship. He feels that Prismo has gotten even lazier, foregoing his Wishmaster responsibilities and even worse, ignoring him. The scarab thought he found someone that was happy to spend time with him for the first time, But feels like he has gone back to being the “forgotten” one.

EP II: Vampire Kingdom

Once Pris and Betty teleport here, theyre immediately caught off guard by a group of vampires that whisk Prismo away and the two are separated. Betty gets surprised by a starved vampire!Simon, who at first doesnt recognize her until he gets a good look at her face.

He refuses to believe its actually Betty and rather a wizard attempting to play tricks on him. Marcy calls his name and he flys away, leaving Betty stunned.

The vampire world is an AU where Vampires take over, but Simon never died and was able to stay with Marcy. Marcy isnt evil here. Simons crown was stolen before he could make a complete transformation into IceKing, and his sanity was kept in part to Marcy turning him to save him from a group of hungry vampires. One curse was replaced with another.

Marcy was turned at a younger age by the VK, but Simon saved her by scratching at the VKs eye (his face scar). Even though the King is furious at Simon for this, he thinks it is more amusing to keep Simon alive and suffering from vampirism. Vampires are starved in this world just like “The Star” episode, but Simon proposes the idea to wrangle human (and animal) survivors and keep them on a reserve to supply the Vampires with a food source. He inevitably becomes the person in charge of the Blood farms. Keep in mind, Simon did this to save humans, otherwise they would have been hunted to extinction.

Unlike the safe worlds PrisBetty visited, this world has most of the original cast in them. Finn is a survivor of the Blood Farms, swearing to kill Simon who he believes imprisoned him in there (which.. is true). The farm is surrounded by booby traps all around the perimeter, no one can get in or out without some level of flying.

Finn always managed to get close to escaping But eventually gets caught in one of the traps. The last attempt caused him to cut his own arm off to be freed and helped by Huntress Wizard. She is one of the few wizards to help the freedom fighters, a band of humans and candy people led by Commander PB. Wizards are hated by Vampires since theyre the few beings that can overpower them. They try to stay out of each others business But huntress is an exception as she feels that the vampires are disrupting the balance of nature.

The Candy Kingdom is fortress walled with wooden spikes and garlic (I thought it would be silly Lol). PBs armor consists of wooden stakes and reminiscent of Golb who she is a follower of. She has access to the Enchiridion and sees Golb as a being that she should harness the power of if the vampires happen to overwhelm her people someday.

The end of the story would involve PrisBetty helping Simon overthrow the VK after Marcy discovers the vampires ability to “drink red” instead of blood. They team up with the help of PB and Huntress. Simon never truly reconciles with Betty as his defense mechanism is to push any feelings of his past away. But he does have a newfound respect for her and tells her to visit him again. Simon will assume the role of Vampire King and free the humans afterward.

Notes:

- Simon is the only vampire dressing in traditionally “Dracula” clothes. Because hes a nerd and thinks its fitting.

- Marcy is raised by Simon here instead of VK, so she is a lot kinder and sympathetic to the humans and candy kingdom (even if she doesnt show it for a while).

EP III: Winter Kingdom

After the Vampire world, Prismo and Betty decide their adventuring is “complete” and attempt to teleport back to the Time Room with Prismos magic. This doesnt work out. Turns out, their human forms have been draining their magic slowly, making it so that they need to find a magical item to recharge. This being the Enchiridion.

This is a totally different world than (Canon) Winter Kings as obviously he is alive here.

Ooo has been mysteriously frozen over and put into an eternal Ice Age. There is hardly any life (apart from immortal beings and those resistant to the temperatures) so hardly anyone lives on the surface. Prismo automatically assumes WK is responsible, but Betty refuses to believe Simon would be the cause of this destruction. WK has a much larger kingdom with a variety of ice people, a lot of them more human-like in appearance. It seems like he is trying to mirror a human society.

Here WK has Bettys skeleton and attempting to use the cloning machine he has in F&C to clone a “real” Betty (which is why he doesnt have an ice clone of her).

The backstory of this WK mirrors my au version of him.

Prismo and Betty are briefly separated and I wont go into too much detail on the story. Betty gets the “safe” tour of the kingdom by WK and Prismo is left to wander in search for the Enchiridion. He starts to see things that point to a darker scene (fire people fighting ice soldiers, lack of any plant life, and ice clones of people who no longer exist). At the same time, Betty is off-put by WKs controlling nature. He reveals to her that he has been in a 100-year war with the Fire Kingdom “who destroy everything” with their flames, while ice “preserves it”. Betty is shocked to see the extent of destruction the Ice Kingdom has caused to Ooo and manages to slip away to do her own investigating. She eventually ends up in the room Bettys corpse is kept, which is the only place that WK allows plant life to grow. The Enchiridion was sitting on skeleton Bettys lap.

The two of them engage in a fight where he details his plan for her and Ooo.

Prismo manages to save her at the end of it. Up until this point hes been a pacifist in the story. They use the Enchiridion to teleport home and they end up.. not there.

Notes:

- I had a bonus page where Scrabby is reacting to PrisBetty not arriving back in the Time Room. He thinks they didnt teleport back on purpose.

- This page also has WK grabbing Bettys ankle right as she teleports. I was going to have WK teleport with them so there was some kind of threat. I am not sure yet.

- The fight scene was supposed to be a lot longer with Betty having the upperhand at first, But I didnt want to draw all of it.

- Winters appearance slowly turns back into Simon when separated from the magic crown.

EP IV: Back Home

They end up in Ooo where the magic teleported them into the sky, making them fall a great distance. They are a little injured, but Betty is mostly shaken by her experience in the Winter world. She redirects this into frustration at Prismo for not teleporting them to the correct place and that they would need to search another “sucky universe”.

Prismo is frustrated and goes off on his own to find another magical object. Betty stays put in the forest. When looking up, Prismo realizes the universe they teleported to was actually the main Ooo upon seeing the floating human city. He rushes back to where Betty was sitting, telling her to go find her Simon here in Ooo, that he knew that he had the Enchiridion in his closet. Betty refuses, knowing that she already said goodbye to Simon years ago and him seeing her again will only hurt him.

Prismo is annoyed at this but walks off, and Betty wanders around the forest until she encounters one of the transport boats that take people up to the city. In her reluctance, she hitches a ride. Meanwhile Prismo reaches a graveyard on the outskirts of the woods, he hides in the bushes and sees a familiar person, Finn, walking up and leaving a bouquet of flowers at the grave.

When Betty makes it up to the city, she explores for a bit before approaching Simon (who is signing a childs book). Before she could say anything, she covers her face with her hat and speeds off. He is at first confused by this but is immediately distracted by the kid again.

Betty is in shock and retreats onto the boat leading her back down to land. She eventually catches up to Prismo, who is kneeling over Jakes grave. She attempts to comfort him, but the words fall short. He asks her if she visited Simon, but Betty says she couldnt do it. At this point Prismo feels like he wasted his time in the Time Room when he could have been spending it in his human form visiting Jake. He remained trapped in the TR unable to spend time with the mortals he built connections with. He feels that Betty is going to suffer the same regret he feels after Simon inevitably dies.

In a turn of events, Prismo places his hand on the grave and it teleports them back into the Time Room. They are amazed by this, Jakes grave acted like a magical object would have. They temporarily celebrate before Betty is impaled by an angry Scrabby.

Bettys human form is heavily injured as Prismo and the Scarab fight in several rooms. Scrabby tells him that he alerted the auditors about their misdeeds. That they will both be locked away for thousands of years or perhaps forever just like he was trapped in the Time Room.

Prismo temporarily subdues Scrabby and goes back to the main room where Betty is. This is where he turns her into a fox to keep her hidden, and promises that her memories are all stored in her body dormant in Golb (Like how Prismos form is dormant in the Time Room).

Fox!Betty wakes up in Ooo, no memories, a feeling of disconnect from her body, and hungry.

End of Act 1

Act II is all about Bettys life as a fox in Ooo. Its a lot calmer and slow burn in comparison to Act I. Upon landing in Ooo, fox!Betty encounters posters advertising Simons* sci-fi series Casper and Nova. She is convinced he is knowledgeable about space because a talking dog told her he was.

*EDIT: Someone pointed out that C&N was written by Astrid (it is implied heavily). Pretend the posters are the two of them working together, maybe Simon helping Astrid write them since she is just a kid.

She starts pestering Simon at one of his book signings and he already dislikes foxes because earlier in the week, a band of them stole his draft for an upcoming book. Betty proposes that she will find the notes and return them to him if she can have a place to stay (Even though he says no, she crashes at his place anyway).

I thought about Simon giving Betty a nickname so that she isnt just referred to as “fox”, so she is “Sunny” since she really likes when he makes sunny-side up eggs. She really likes eggs as a fox that is her quirk.

Update 1/21/24: Sunny encounters Simon after breaking into his home and snooping around for clues. Simon ambushes her in the Golb ritual room, assuming she has come to steal the Enchiridion. Sunny explains herself and claims that she can get Simons draft back from the fox thieves. They go on an “adventure”. It is revealed that fox!Betty can transform into Betty only when unconscious/sleeping. Simon wakes up next to her but assumes he is hallucinating..

Post about Simon and fox!Bettys dynamic.

I couldnt fit all images into this post as there is a 10 photo limit. I decided to link additional photos to underlined text. If you want further context, check those out. I love reading others AUs and was inspired to do my own. Any questions can be left in comment. Thanks for read..!

[dream-with-a-fever]

ginny weasley did not

defend harry against malfoy in flourish and blots when he was picking on him (it’s the first time she ever speaks in front of him)

carry around a horcrux for the better half of a year and realise that something was wrong and try to dispose of it at age 11

get possessed, manipulated and controlled by one of the darkest wizards of all time and live to tell the tale

get forced to write her own farewell note on the wall in blood and walk to her own death

go on as normally as possible afterwards despite the trauma of her first year, because she didn’t want to be a nuisance

make harry a get well soon card after he fell off his broom because of the dementors in third year

tell harry and ron off when making fun of neville for not being able to get a yule ball date

refuse harry as a yule ball date despite having harboured a crush on him for years because she didn’t want to hurt neville

see harry was floundering after hermione & ron left him to do prefect duties and immediately take charge and invite him to come with her

defend luna against bullies, and encourage neville to believe in himself and know his self worth

decide to quit pining for harry because it was a waste of time, instead dating other boys and becoming a solid friend to him

join dumbledore’s army without a second thought, coining the name and even encouraging more ravenclaws to join

call harry out when he was in a downward spiral about being possessed, explained her own experience and remained gracious despite him forgetting her biggest trauma

fill in for harry as seeker in the quidditch team and help them win the quidditch cup that year

reassure harry that he will play quidditch again, when he was feeling low about umbridge’s life long ban

encourage harry to talk to cho if that’s what he’s upset about (putting her own complicated feelings for him aside)

get harry to admit what was actually upsetting him and helping him find a solution

immediately agree to help harry by standing guard outside umbridge’s office despite not knowing any details

call harry out whenever he was being snarky / impatient with her and not take any of his shit

disarm malfoy & the others and escape from umbridge’s office to rush to harry and hermione’s aid

refuse to stay behind at hogwarts stating that she cared for sirius too and wanted to help

go with the others to the DoM in an attempt to save sirius, risking her life and breaking her ankle in the process

refuse to tolerate her brother’s new girlfriend who was being snobbish about her family’s home and lifestyle (but then go on to love and respect her, as they mature)

get invited to join the slug club because of her skill with hexes and not nepotism (the only one who wasn’t invited for that reason)

tell off zabini for laughing at harry about what went down at the DoM

call ron the fuck out when he was borderline slut-shaming her

crash into the commentator’s podium to shut zacharias smith up from talking smack about the gryffindor team

immediately try to intervene when she thought harry was in danger of being possessed by the hbp potions book

tell off dean and seamus for laughing when harry got seriously hurt in quidditch

come to harry’s defence after he attacked malfoy (bc he had to defend himself against an unforgivable curse) and stand up to (one of her) closest friend(s) to do so

step up to play seeker in harry’s place (again) in the quidditch final and winning the cup in his absence (!!!!)

make harry feel “the happiest he had ever been” when they finally got together

make my boy LAUGH 24/7 and bring him (and many others) so much JOY

support harry after dumbledore’s death, knowing when to give him comfort and also space

show unwavering love and loyalty to harry when he was trying to break up with her, claiming she didn’t care about the danger

also ultimately not fight his decision, understanding his need to stop voldemort once and for all, despite her being completely heartbroken

respect harry’s wishes to stay broken up, but still give him the most INSANE kiss ever as a birthday present (and something for him to fight for!!)

return to hogwarts under the rule of deatheaters, despite the target on her back as a blood traitor (also as brother of ron AND ex girlfriend of harry)

take the place of younger students and try to protect them from being tortured by the carrows

start up dumbledore’s army again with neville and rebel against the system, to reek as much havoc as possible at hogwarts

try to steal the sword of gryffindor from snape’s office because they wanted to help the cause as much as possible despite understanding why they needed it and ultimately being punished for it

refuse to stay put in the room of requirement when her family were out risking their lives during the battle and given the chance, immediately joined the fray

comfort an injured younger student at the battle, and stay strong for them, despite having just found out her brother had been killed

duel with bellatrix in the battle and almost lose her life doing it

go through so much and have her trauma be overlooked and forgotten by so many

go on to play QUIDDITCH PROFESSIONALLY in the team she DREAMED of playing for

and then going back to a career in writing (sports correspondent) despite her traumatic experience with the diary

marry the love of her life and have three beautiful children and get the happy ending that she deserves after EVERYTHING????

all for you guys to shit on her the way you do. put some goddamn RESPECT on MISS GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY’S name. she’s NOT a mary sue, she’s NOT a bully, and she’s NOT boring. she’s an ICON.

[wannabe-minion-of-chaos]

In case you need one more

finally foz au posting 💔

personally, if cartman was an actual wizard i think he would use stupid spells like testicular torsion

i mean in tsot he uses farting magic and even teaches the new kid about it lol

also ive been wanting to draw my au cartman as wizard memes for a long long time tbh

im probably gonna do more,, even if i have so many wips rn LMAOOO

[cardansriddle]

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

Summary: Tom finds himself harbouring a small crush on the Slytherin Chaser.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff. As always, not proofread, so apologies for any mistakes.

A/N: First post in months, hi, hello, I'm alive!!! This one is heavily inspired by the lyrics "you know how to ball, I know Aristotle" from so high school by taylor swift (obviously). And we all know Tom is the nerd in any scenario.

༻♛༺

The players soared through the azure sky, their movements orchestrated with precision and grace as the game began. Quidditch had never held any allure for Tom; he deemed it brutish and an unworthy diversion from his personal pursuits. After all, he would rather spend his hours on research to further his magical skills, become the most powerful wizard of all time and accomplish his one ultimate life ambitions.

Yet he had been dragged to the game by his persistent, relentless Knights. Half of them had already taken to the field, while the remainder bellowed raucous cheers from the stands. That is, if one could call creative chants being hurled at the Gryffindor team cheering.

With a disdainful curl of his lip, Tom reached for the book nestled at his side, fully intending to pass the time by reading. Yet, before he could even read a word, a chorus of gasps pierced the air, followed by a rush of wind that tousled his dark locks. Startled, he glanced skyward, just in time to witness one of the Chasers of his house team swooping gracefully to intercept the Quaffle hurtling towards an unsuspecting bystander behind him.

She shot a cheeky smirk at whoever she had just saved before gliding away. Something within Tom stirred—an unexpected surge of fascination seized hold of his senses and he found himself tracking her every movement with a newfound intensity. For a moment his scholarly mind analysed her movements with the same meticulous scrutiny he applied to his studies. She moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, her every manoeuvre executed with a finesse that demanded attention.

As her lithe form weaved through the chaos of the game, Tom couldn't help but lean forward to pay attention to the game. He was transfixed, his gaze glued on her as she scored a goal after goal.

"See! I told you Quidditch was fun!" Orion Black exclaimed from next to him, hand moving to pat Tom on his back before realising who he was speaking to and forgoing the action all together.

Tom did not bother acknowledging the boy.

The game came to an end as the Slytherin Seeker deftly caught the snitch after a particularly intense dive, and soon enough the entire crowd of students were rushing to congratulate the victorious team. Just like that, Tom was snapped out of his daze. He gathered his belongings and decided to leave.

༻♛༺

The party in honour of the Slytherin team was in in full swing by the time Tom set foot in the common room. He cursed under his breath as he navigated the crowded space, desperate to retreat to his dormitory and escape the chaos that engulfed the room.

Pushing his way through the throng, he passed by the large emerald couch when his eyes caught sight of her. She sat with her friends in a small circle, an amused smirk playing on her lips. The boisterous energy of the celebration seemed to ripple around her. Tom's ears perked up as someone called her name, attempting to draw her attention. He quickly noted the name, etching it into his mind with the same precision he used for memorizing spells.

"It's your turn!"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm good."

"Oh come on! It is not fair for you to give out the most ridiculous dares then run away when it's your turn. Come on, don't be a coward!" Her friend goaded.

"Perhaps if I were a Gryffindor I would be insulted." she replied with a shrug. Despite her nonchalance, her friends’ uproarious protest began to wear down her resolve. Tom could see the determination flicker in her eyes before she finally relented. "Okay, fine! I will play this once!"

"Truth or dare?"

Tom resisted the urge to scoff at the ridiculously childish game they were partaking in. He should have left right then, but he could not deny that something tugged at his curiosity despite his best efforts to remain aloof.

"Dare."

"What happened to you were not a Gryffindor?"

"I'm just trying to determine if I would be a lousy one or not."

Her friend’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly plotting the perfect dare. Tom was about to move away when her friend's eyes landed on him, and he saw them sparkle in mischief. He was quick to turn away, pretending he could not hear them.

Just as the girl was announce the dare, a couple crashed into him in their impatience to get through, fingers weaved together, jostling Tom and forcing him to step aside. He grimaced as they hurried past, clearly headed for the dorm rooms. When he turned his attention back to the group, he noticed with a start that the girl had disappeared.

Trying ignore the bizarre pit of disappointment in his stomach, he turned on his heel to head up to his room for the night. He had already lingered more than enough. Just as he turned, another figure crashed straight into his chest. With a string of colourful curses under his breath, he automatically grabbed to steady the person. Tom had lost all his patience, and he was about to snap with something mean when his gaze landed on the Slytherin Chaser.

Whatever sharp words he’d been preparing evaporated in an instant. His focus shifted entirely to the pair of wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him innocently. Too innocently. His instincts told him it spelled trouble.

"Oh, Riddle! I'm sorry, I tripped over my own feet." She said with a sheepish smile, a feigned apology dancing on her lips. Tom narrowed his eyes. She was an athlete, her entire existence on the pitch was defined by her precision and grace. He knew well enough she wasn’t the type to stumble over her own feet.

He opened his mouth to retort but she beat him to it. "Did you watch the game today?"

"Yes," he responded curtly, his gaze never leaving hers, trying to decipher her game.

"Really? I thought you never attended the games. Well, what did you think of it?"

The corner of Tom's lip curled as he replied. "First and last time. Your Quaffle almost disfigured my face."

She raised a brow. "No, the ball almost disfigured Adrian. Your charming smile was in no danger, I assure you."

"My charming smile, yeah?"

A delicate blush crept up her cheeks, turning them a pretty shade of pink under his teasing gaze that she was trying—and failing—to conceal. Tom felt a wave of smug satisfaction at the reaction he had drawn from her. Slowly, he twirled his wand between his long fingers, savoring the moment, letting the tension simmer in the air between them. His movements were slow, deliberate, before he lifted her chin ever so slightly with the tip of the wand, the cool wood brushing against her skin.

"Well, in any case, congratulations on your victory," he murmured, his voice low as he held her gaze firmly in his. "Disfigured smile or not." Then, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, Tom broke away to walk past her, heading toward the dormitory.

He was halfway across the common room when a sudden shout rang out amidst the loud crowd.

"Tom!" Her voice rang out, and just as he was about to glance over his shoulder, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, turning him around with unexpected force. His brows knit in confusion as he looked down at her, words forming in his mind but never reaching his lips. Before he could react, her arms were around his neck, pulling him down in one swift motion. Her lips crashed against his, bold and unapologetic, her kiss catching him entirely off guard.

Tom stood frozen, momentarily stunned, every thought, every calculated plan vanishing in the instant their lips met. For a man who prided himself on control, it was the first time in a long while that he felt completely unmoored. The kiss, with its suddenness and intensity, left him reeling in ways he hadn't deemed possible.

He tuned out the instant cheers and whistles breaking out in a wave of noise at the display, his thoughts consumed only by the soft lips moving over his own.

But the moment was over a moment far too soon. her breath uneven, eyes gleaming with nerves. Tom’s heart, which had betrayed him for just a moment, slowly began to settle back into its steady rhythm.

She bit her lip, a sly smile forming as she met his gaze again. "Sorry… I was dared to do that," she said, almost apologetically.

Tom’s expression didn’t falter, but a flicker of irritation crossed his mind. The kiss, the boldness—it had not been her choice. “Of course,” he replied coolly, his voice measured as he ran a hand through his hair. "A dare.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Tom leaned in just enough to let his words hang in the air between them, lips brushing against her cheek, his voice low and filled with a subtle challenge. “Then… I dare you,” he began, his gaze locked on hers with a teasing intensity, “to do it again.”

He smirked as her eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by his response. Her gaze flickered to his lips for just a second before she pulled back, her smirk widening. "Careful what you wish for, Tom. You might regret it.”

"Only if it results in your Quaffle flying at my face again."

"If you refrain from reading your book at my game, I promise to keep it away from your vicinity next time." She rolled her eyes, but before either of them could speak again, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, the lingering laughter fading into something sweeter.

[canichangemyblogname]

What in the cognitive-fucking-dissonance??? THEE woman who started the edgy “gay panic killing of a fictional gay man” joke movement is SHOCKED that she attracts and is attracted to homophobes?

You literally joked that if you were Tommy’s boyfriend (Buck), you’d shoot and kill the man for flirting with you. That is a hate crime. That is literally THEE definition of “gay panic.” You’re not the fantastical “wizard spells” blog; you’re the I use “it’s just a joke, bro”-as-a-shield blog.

Y’all literally have anons “keep tabs” on 911 fans who support ABC’s recent decision to add more queer representation into the show, sending y’all asks about what those fans are saying about the show and their favorite characters. And you’re SHOCKED to attract the same obsessive behavior? You’re SHOCKED that you attract toxicity? You’re SHOCKED that you attract other blogs that joke about homophobic violence?

Wizard spells, right? Oh, shit. Actually, it’s a joke about gay panic killing. But it’s still just a joke, right?

Wizard spells, right?

Actually— capital punishment. For the crime of *checks notes* going on a date with a man and cutting the date short. Didn’t know that death must be the legal consequence for not continuing a bad date.

Still just a joke, right?

Oh, look— I finally found the “Wizard spells,” among *checks notes* fantasizing about black and brown people murdering a white man, more guns, and… torture. Weird fantasies, man.

But still just a joke, right?

Wizard spells, right?

Well, I found “curses” and “voodoo” on this next list. Right alongside joking about death by firearm (again), death by execution/capital punishment (again), and—would you look at that—joking about death by AIDS. Joking about a gay character… dying of AIDS. Original.

How is THIS ^^^ is a step too far for y’all when it’s literally the EXACT same joke? This blog’s violent fantasies and this blog calling Tommy a predator is a step too far, but when you did the same, it wasn’t? Where do you think “edgy” jokes lead? Why do you think so many other blogs on here kept telling you that an “edgy joke” isn’t ever actually an “edgy joke”?

This is the culture you have created. You attract these personalities because you encourage their beliefs and behavior. But rather than own up to that and look critically at how your supposed “jokes” have created a toxic and hostile and truly obsessive and frightening culture, you’d rather ONCE AGAIN all call this a “ship war.”

There is no ship war. Shut up about the ship war.

There *are* fans who are posting genuinely homophobic and frightening things because they cannot stand that 911 has added another queer couple to the show, and then there are fans who support 911 ABC’s move to expand representation. There *are* fans obsessed with fan fiction fantasies, and then there are fans who simply support canon, on-screen queer representation.

This is so VERY obviously not a ship war. This isn’t “BoBs” vs “Bummys.” This is people who are unable to come to terms with the fact they’ve sold themselves a lie: shipping doesn’t do a damn bit of difference for representation and your obsession isn’t coming true— making it genuinely unsafe to be queer in online 911 spaces.

There is no ship war. “Engaging critically with the internet” means recognizing a pattern of behavior. There is no ship war, but there is a subset of the fandom who refuses to take accountability for what they have encouraged. *You* are the only ones excusing homophobia as “rage bait” and “edgy jokes,” and that’s ultimately the issue. The character is kinda irrelevant when the issue is how you and your followers have so frequently relied on real-world homophobic stereotypes to justify your hate and OOC characterization of a queer character.

911 fans who support the addition of another queer couple and who support Buck’s bi arc have been receiving harassment for months, with other blogs calling them predators, groomers, pedophiles, the n-word, the f-slur, several slurs for women and lesbians, being told to kill themselves, among other things. And you’ve been called—what?—homophobic, racist, sexist?

I know that buddie-stans have also been called out for calling black women “sassy,” for using the mammy trope in your writing, for hypersexualizing Eddie, for harassing the actresses who played previous LIs with misogynistic hate, for writing character-bashing that relies on misogyny, and for NEVER calling this out. Now we can add “vile homophobia” and “frightening violence” to the list.

It’s everyone else’s fault but your own, and yet y’all are the only ones attracting these blogs.

[grims-sunshine]

🤍 I've got the Magic Touch 🤍

Summary: Gale catches you reading an erotic novel. While you read it, he takes your pleasure into his own hands.

Pairing: Gale x Tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Established relationship; takes place after the events of the game; f!reader; breast groping; some fingering

Content for the novel: Kinda generic, cliché smut; mostly making out and a blowjob

Note: This is a reupload because the fic wasn't showing in the tags. Usually I dislike doing this, but to be totally honest I put a ton of effort into this fic and was pretty sad when literally only one person saw it because Tumblr is a bully. So here's to hoping it works out this time.

Felix pushed Sylvanna up to the wall, finally taking what he'd been craving for so long and giving her what she'd been waiting for ever since that one night.

"I just can't control myself around you," he whispered, the words hardly more than a deep growl from within his chest.

"Then don't," Sylvanna breathed in response, offering herself to him fully.

"What are you reading there, love?"

Gale's voice abruptly pulls you out of the book you've been reading. Startled by his sudden presence, you snap it shut, praying to whichever god will listen that he didn't take a peek at the pages before making himself known.

You're usually comfortable around Gale, but something about him finding out that you're reading filthy erotica in the middle of the day fills you with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Just some old tome I've picked up from the bookstore earlier," you lie, cursing yourself for the way your voice cracks. You're not a great liar, and Gale knows you too well to be easily fooled.

"Do you need anything?" You add the question, hoping it'll be enough to distract him.

When you lean back head far to look at Gale, looming over you, staring back with an amused expression.

"Why? Can't a wizard just walk into his own reading room anymore?" Gale asks with a chuckle, holding up his hands. He walks around the small couch in the middle of the room to sit next to you. You notice him prying at the book, so you promptly cover it with your hands.

"No, no, I'm just asking," you say, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Gale's cheek. "It's your home, of course you're always welcome here."

"Well, you've been spending a lot of time in here. I'd almost consider it your personal space by now," Gale says with a fond smile.

He's not wrong. This has quickly become one of your favorite spots in the whole tower, ever since you moved back to Waterdeep with him. It's comfortable, cozy, and perfect for rainy and cold days when you don't want to sit outside while reading.

Not to mention, the couch is big enough to fit the both of you on it. This has led to many evenings spent in here, doing things far more interesting than reading books with each other, which certainly adds to this being your favourite space.

"So, what's your book about?" Gale continues. "You seemed rather… Engrossed by it just now." You should've known he wouldn't just drop it. On the surface it seems like an innocent enough question. You often tell each other about your latest reads, discussing what's happening at great length. But this time, there's something else hidden under the innocent act, that you can't quite pin down. Maybe it's the slight smile tugging at his lips, or the glint in his eyes when he looks at you.

You shrug. "Just some cheesy, run of the mill romance. You'd probably find it rather boring." You try to sound as casual as you can, but even you can tell it's failing terribly. Gale isn't stupid, after all.

"Romance, huh?" Gale nods, giving you a look that says he doesn't believe a word you're saying. "So, which part of the romance has you squirming and pressing your thighs together?" He gives you a smirk.

You feel the heat rush to your face in an instant and Gale laughs upon seeing your expression, pulling you into a hug. "I'm not judging you. I was genuinely curious about what you're reading. It really did seem like you were enjoying yourself, so I wanted to know what got you so… worked up." He says it with a sincerity that makes your embarrassment melt away.

You uncover the book that you'd been hiding under your hands up until now and hand it to Gale.

The cover alone would probably be enough for anyone to tell what the book's contents are: A woman in a silky robe that barely covers her body, leaning against a faceless male figure, posessively holding her in his arms.

Gale inspects the cover, then turns his attention back to you. "What's it about?"

You sigh. "Well, it's this woman… Who becomes the apprentice of a powerful wizard… And she lives in his tower and they… You know."

You feel another rush of embarrassment as Gale nods, raising his eyebrows. "Interesting."

You sigh, feeling the way your cheeks flush. "I'm not just reading it because you're a wizard and I'm fantasizing about you or anything like that. It's just… Well, the smut scenes are pretty good," you admit, averting your eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking that. Although I certainly wouldn't mind you fantasizing about me," Gale assures you, chuckling a little. "But I am intrigued now. Is it really that good?"

You nod. "Yes, it's pretty good. You can read it once I'm done, if you'd like." This isn't Gale's usual taste in books, but he seems interested enough.

Gale thinks for a moment, shakes his head. "Actually, I've got a much better idea." He leans against the back of the couch, half lying down, and pats the space between his legs. "Come here," he says. He looks up at you with a warm smile.

You can guess what he has in mind already. This is how you usually sit when you're reading a book together. It seems like a good enough solution -- You can continue reading, and perhaps Gale's curiosity will be sated as well.

You lie down with your back against Gale's chest. He wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your temple before comfortably resting his head on your shoulder.

You're nestled in Gale's embrace, surrounded by his warmth. It's your favourite feeling in the world, being comfortable and safe in his arms.

He hands your book back to you and you open it where you last left off, beginning to read once again.

Felix didn't waste any time giving in to his desires. He pulled Sylvanna into a passionate kiss, their bodies practically melting together.

Sylvanna felt how hard he was, pressing up against her. She cupped him with her hand and began to slowly stroke him, earning her a low moan from him.

Your attention drifts from the words on the page to the sensation of Gale's lips, soft against your neck, followed by the subtle scratching of his beard over your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses there. Your breath hitches and you let your head sink back to grant him more access. To your surprise, Gale stops almost immediately and you feel him smile against your skin, almost smug.

"Keep reading," he says, his voice a little lower than usual, before continuing his trail of kisses. You can sense a hint of amusement in his voice -- He's enjoying this.

So this was his plan. You decide to go along with it, turning your focus back on the book once more.

Sylvanna dropped to her knees, fumbling to get Felix's pants off him. She was desperate to taste him, to be the one taking the lead for once.

S he looked up at Felix as she began slowly stroking his cock before licking a stripe up the shaft, teasing the tip with her tongue.

Once again, your reading is interrupted when you feel Gale's hands travel across your body, grasping at your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. You gasp as his touch goes bolder, hiking up your shirt just enough to be able to reach underneath it. His hands find your breasts once again, massaging them and gently tugging at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

It makes it all the harder to focus on your book, when all you want is to sink into Gale, close your eyes and let his touch take you to oblivion.

His movements stop again, shattering you bliss. "Try to stay focused, love," Gale whispers, followed by a kiss pressed right underneath your ear. It takes you a moment to catch on, to clear the fog that's been taking over your brain at his touch. The book.

You try to clear your mind and take in the words, but you're far too distracted by Gale to fully make sense of what you're reading. It's more like your eyes absentmindedly skim the pages while your thoughts keep slipping away.

When she finally put him in her mouth, Felix groaned deeply.

As she started sucking him off, he buried his hand in her hair, gently leading her movements.

He cursed under his breath. "Fuck, you're perfect. I should've given in to this desire sooner."

Gale's hands wander down your body, gently pulling your legs apart and stroking your thighs. As one of his hands pushes past the hem of your pants and underwear you feel a rush of excitement. His fingers slowly begin parting your folds and you can't help but let out a small moan.

You can only imagine how wet you must be already from everything. It only gets worse when he begins rubbing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. You let out a small whimper and your hips involuntarily buckle up against him, causing Gale to use his free hand to gently push you back down, holding you in place.

"You haven't turned that page in a while," Gale notes, sounding amused. He doesn't stop what he's doing this time and you thank the gods for it. You're not sure what you'd do if he stopped touching you right now.

You only hum in response, hardly making sense of his words.

One of his fingers finds your hole, pushing a single digit inside and you let out another whimper.

"Well? Won't you keep going?" Gale asks again, although by the tone of his voice, you're sure he knows the answer already.

"Can't… Focus," you finally manage to say, and Gale hums in response. You feel the vibrations in his chest and somehow it only makes you even dizzier.

"I suppose you've gotten far enough," Gale says, grazing your flushed cheek with his lips.

He uses the hand that had been holding you in place to grab the book and set it aside.

"Well, this allows me to move a little better, so I don't mind either." He smirks and pulls you a little closer against him.

You can feel his own arousal pressing against your back, but your attention quickly gets pulled away when Gale fully pushes his first finger inside of you, slowly pumping it in and out. Your hips push against him once again, but he doesn't press them down this time, allowing you to fully embrace the pleasure.

Gale adds a second finger, picking up the pace along with it.

Your head rolls back against his shoulder, somehow finding Gale's lips for a passionate kiss. You squirm in his arms, whimpers growing louder as Gale manages to hit the spot that sends you over the edge.

He continues to pump his fingers while you shake and cry out in pleasure, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and you sink back against Gale, feeling lightheaded. Gale holds you close, pressing soft kisses against your temple as he lets you catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you manage to say after a while, finally able to form words again.

"Agreed," Gale says with a smile. "Although I hope you're up for a second round. There's something I could use a little help with."

[briarberrythornedhart]

Well... That’s Settled

Cw: none. Just fluff and eventual romance

It’s Saturday. A rare Saturday where you and your co-worker Eddie both aren’t working.

You knock on Eddie’s front door. Waiting a bit and hearing nothing. You knock again.

You hear “Coming. Shit! Fuck! Coming!! shit shit… Hold your gaddam horses” from Eddie— kinda muffled.

He opens the door with a scowl … and a glint catches your eye. A sewing needle in his mouth. He pulls the needle from between his teeth, it is trailing black thread. His scowl is softening into mild surprise.

“Oh it’s you??” He says

“It’s me. You…are... sewing ?? something?”

“Got a new patch for my vest at the show last weekend.” He holds up a black patch that says ‘Sloppy Seconds’ on it. “What’s up?”

“You said you were off today, and you could help me??? But your phone was busy… and probably I should have waited but it’s nearly eleven…”

“Nono, it’s cool, c’mon in.” He holds the screen door for you with his palm, fingers spread wide. “You are always welcome at Casa Munson. Didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer s’all.”

“But, Eddie Munson, you’re my only hope.” You did your best Leia Organa and Eddie grinned at you in acknowledgement of your effort.

“So you’re saying I’m a space wizard??” He fished for the compliment with typical cocky swagger.

“I’ve seen you use the Force on people with weak minds.” You wiggled your fingers in the air.

“When?? When have I ever done that?” He laughed.

You imitated Eddie’s midwestern accent that had that Munson Family brand Tennessee honey drizzled on it. “Golly, Officer, I didn’t think I was speeding. Oh - Keith, you said you didn’t want me to close on Tuesday, you personally want to walk the deposit to the bank, remember. Nah, you don’t need to roll to detect cursed objects right now after picking up that innocent looking pendant ...?”

“Well.. my magic doesn’t work on you, anyway.” He wryly pursed his lips.

It does though. It always does.

You watch him put the needle into a pin cushion that looked like a tomato and he laid his project aside.

He bends over the couch arm to do this and you can see the bit of un-inked skin above his gray boxers where his shirt rides up and his jeans ride low.

You can see the nice curve of his butt where one of the pockets is torn and his boxers show there too and you wish to hell he wanted you back.

You sigh. That would be so nice.

He stands and looks at you with his eyebrows raised in query. “What??”

So you change the subject. “Why don’t you put patches on your jeans? They are rapidly becoming more hole than fabric. Denim isn’t supposed to be... lace.”

He grins again. “That’s just air conditioning for my knees. S’very practical.”

“Including the hole on your left ass cheek - that’s for air circulation too, is it?”

His eyes widened. He runs his hand down his butt, fingers dipping into the hole. “Shiiiiit, why didn’t anyone tell me??”

“Presumably because we were all enjoying it?” You suggested playfully.

His eyes snap to yours. “Enjoying what? Me, looking like a total dork??”

“It’s called deshibile - it’s very fashionable.”

“What are you even talking about?? You're so... aggravating sometimes, I swear to gawd!” Eddie jogs down the hallway and you follow. He tries to get a good look in the mirror by his custom Warlock - she’s so pretty - but he calls her ‘Sweetheart’ - lucky tart. “ How long were these jeans ripped to hell on my ass??!! I only have two pairs - so - you saw!! You totally saw this yesterday and you didn’t even say....”

“Your boxers are keeping you decent - you just have a ripped pocket. It’s fine - You look fine. Why do you care? Keith doesn’t care about ripped pants - like - you wear shoes to work... so you are one up on Argyle with the flip flops. Now if you went commando, that might be a problem.”

He is running his hands through his hair. “I can’t afford more jeans right now... fuuuuuuck.”

“You have sewing supplies right here - You just need another patch, Eddie - from older jeans or an old t-shirt... it would barely show - until our next pay day and then we could go thrifting together? If you want?”

“Yeah.... yeah... sorry - just went to that concert and I shouldn’t have because we needed a plumber last week and money’s tight.”

You nodded. Money is always tight. The job pays you both very little. You know why you stay (to see Eddie) - but you don’t know why Eddie doesn’t get a better job.

“Hey - I’m sorry, I said you were ‘aggravating’, man, I-I didn't mean it - I mean, you do Drive Me Insane, but I guess I kinda like it... how we joke around.” Eddie leaned his forehead into the mirror - closed his eyes. “You’re a good friend, you know?? And... and I promised to help you out. But, I kinda forget what with??”

“Because I didn’t say. Because it’s a secret.”

“Oh! Covert mission, huh?” Eddie turned with - well it wasn’t elegance but it was beautiful just the same. He clapped his large hands together and rubbed them up and down with glee. “What are we up to?”

“I’m making a mix tape. For a guy I like. And I know you have the perfect set up to record on.”

“For a guy??”

“Yeah - I’m into them - dudes - in general.” you snarked. “Girls aren’t out of the question , but I do tend to go for...”

“I know-ah. I mean. You wanna use my equipment - and my music, I assume??”

“Some of it.” You nodded at Eddie. Eddie has a great music collection.

“My stuff... To court some loser...”

“He’s not a loser. He’s perfect.”

“No guy is perfect, I guarantee you.”

“He’s handsome. He’s kind and generous. He’s funny... on purpose. He has these lips...”

“Stop - I do not want to hear about his lips. Where’d you even meet him? At...”

“You know - around Hawkins...” You cut him off before he can ask ‘at work?’ and you’d have to come up with some crazy lie.

“You sure he’s single?? Maybe he’s dating half of Hawkins?? Maybe he’s gay?” Eddie is not looking at you - he’s flipping through records in a milk crate.

“Maybe he is all of those things - or he’s not into me at all - or maybe he’s not into anyone - that’s why I’m making the mix. I can tell him I like him in the j-card and in the musical subtext - if he’s not into me and can never be - we can just be friends. I’ll die a little, but that’s okay - every day we die a little more, right?”

“Morbid. But, accurate.” Eddie turned back to you. “Okay - I said I’d help you and I’ll help you - but we are making two mix tapes. One to express your interest in this guy - who probably doesn’t deserve you by the way. And one for you. Just for you. Deal?” He asks this like he’s the one convincing you of this project. Your idea - your excuse to spend time with Eddie - as much as you can finagle.

“Deal.” You go to shake on it and Eddie stops and spits in his right palm first. He checks you to see if you are grossed out. By his saliva?? No. Opposite really. “So - not a blood pact?” You kid and spit as delicately as you can into your palm - hold it out for him as brave as you can be. He grins, shakes it. You try not to think about your spit combined on your hands. Fail utterly at that.

“Okay... tell me about this Paragon of ‘Manly’ Virtue...” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You said you didn’t want to hear about his kissable lips, his pretty eyes, his nice ass...”

“God! Stop - I didn’t know you were so fucking horny!! I meant his musical tastes.”

“He’s beautiful and I am an appreciator of his physical attributes. He’s not just a piece of meat though... he’s also got a great voice... and he’s very clever...”

“And you’re what - gonna only put really horned up slutty music on this tape and probably sleep with him immediately - you Can’t!! I mean, don’t - he might have crabs or something. You gotta be more careful.”

“He’s probably not going to like me back, but if he asks me on a date I’ll be sure to ask him point blank if he has crabs, first thing.”

“I’m just sayin’ maybe get to know him a bit before you offer your... body.”

“Okay - noted - Hmmm - ‘Horned up Slut Music’ What’s that filed under in your milk crates system ‘H’ or “S’?? Wait - did you just mean SKA?”

Eddie pushed into your shoulder with his, playfully, and was unusually quiet for a while. Picking up records and tapes and showing you song titles. Gently steering you away from anything that sounded like a Direct proposition for sex with the ‘mystery guy’.

Finally stopping you. “Now you’ve got 97 minutes of music, you’ve got to edit.”

“I thought we were making two mix tapes?’

“I’m making the second one. You have enough on your mind with mr. wonderful. When he breaks your heart you can listen to my mix and cry on my shoulder, and I’ll go kick his ass sideways.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” You looked down in your lap.

Eddie put two fingers under your chin and lifted your eyes to meet his. “Is he...like... is he so much better than me?” His voice broke a bit on the end.

You couldn’t speak - why wouldn’t words come out??

Eddie sounded put out but his eyes weren’t mad. “Like, other than the lips and the ass... or whatever - what’s he got that I don’t?”

You kinda... launched into his lap. You absolutely kissed him with tongue right off.

Eddie scootched like a crab into his bed - pulling you with him. Kissing you back.

“Am I a close second? You could settle for me, I’m kinda okay with that, considering the kiss you just laid on me didn’t feel like second prize.” Eddie looked so sweetly befuddled. “I do not have crabs and I’m not secretly dating anyone and I’ve been into you since day one.”

“Eddie, you are the guy.”

He blinked.

“You made me a mix?” Eddie’s pretty eyes got a twinkle in them. “But the messaging is so vague - how will I know if you are really attracted to me when you didn’t use any music to indicate a deep lust for my person.”

“You’ll just have to read the j-card.” You teased back.

[starlight-sev]

Joy Looks Good on You (Snape x Artist!Reader)

Request: Snape with an artist reader- she makes gorgeous paintings, teaches an art class at Hogwarts (Bob Ross style, for reference). Doesn't have many students, but when he comes into her classroom its such a calming atmosphere. Maybe a short drabble about how he falls in love with her and her skill with paintings?

Requested by: anon

Warnings: none

A/N: this is more platonic than I had initially intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Oh! Gender neutral reader as I always try my best to write 💕

Hogwarts was home to many secrets, one of them being that the school offered painting classes as an elective for those in third year or higher.

Even you were shocked when you first heard about the job posting. You always figured art would be just a hobby of yours. When it came to jobs in the wizarding world, anything to do with art and painting was quite rare to find.

So when you were finally offered the job for art teacher at Hogwarts, to say you were overjoyed would have been an understatement. You never thought you’d be able to turn your love of painting into your career.

Dumbledore had placed you in the North Tower, just below Professor Trelawney’s Divination classroom. Compared to her room, yours was rather small: you only had to walk ten steps and you’d already be at the other side of the room. A handful of round tables with matching wooden chairs had been crammed into the tiny space. There was a small desk nestled in the corner for you to work, along with a shelf against the wall to store your paints and supplies.

Your favourite feature about the room, and perhaps one of its only redeeming qualities, was the large window in the middle of the wall. It was rounded at the top, with an ornate stained glass inlay that covered almost half the window. It was the source of your inspiration on sunny days.

It certainly wasn’t the nicest classroom, and sometimes a theory crossed your mind that your classroom had once been a generously-sized storage closet, but anything was better than being down in the dungeons of the castle.

You glanced up from your own painting to quickly sweep your eyes over the paintings your students were finishing up. You never had more than ten students a year, painting certainly wasn’t a common interest for wizards (much to your disappointment), but it didn’t matter. It gave you the opportunity to grow closer to your students, to get to know everyone’s individual art style. It made you all the more proud when you were able to see how much they progressed over the course of the year.

“Professor?”

You glanced over to see Luna Lovegood, one of your students with the biggest imaginations, waving politely to catch your attention.

“Yes?” You asked softly.

“We won’t have time to finish our paintings this class. I know we’re not supposed to, but since it’s Friday, could we leave our supplies out? We’ll be back first thing on Monday.”

A few other students murmured their agreement. You smiled apologetically, silently cursing that you had given them an assignment far bigger than they had time to complete.

“Of course. That’s fine.” You dismissed everyone with a wave of your hand. “Go on. Enjoy the weekend. And don’t worry about handing in your still life sketches this week, you’ve got enough on your hands with the landscape painting I assigned.”

A handful of cheers erupted among the students, and you smiled as each one nodded and murmured their thanks before leaving.

You stood up from your desk, walking across the room to collect everyone’s paintbrushes one by one.

“Letting your students go without cleaning up after themselves?” A deep voice murmured softly from the doorway. “I’m surprised Y/N, I thought you were more disciplined than that.”

It never failed to startle you, how Severus had this uncanny ability to sneak up silently on you. Usually you’d be able to hear students’ footsteps echoing as they made their way up the stairs to your classroom, but Severus seemed to be able to glide noiselessly around the castle like a ghost.

You set your paintbrushes in the small sink that rested in the corner of your room, smiling in acknowledgement and beckoning the professor to come in.

“It’s Friday,” you answered, grabbing a paintbrush and using your fingers to work the paint out of the bristles. “They’ve got enough going on, I figured I’d give them a bit of a break.”

You heard Severus scoff as he approached you from behind.

“You’re too easy on them.”

“And you’re too hard on your own students, but you don’t see me waltzing into your classroom to nag.”

That earned a soft chuckle from the professor as he stood beside you.

“You can use magic to clean those.” Severus observed, nodding toward your fingers as you worked the leftover paint out of the brush.

“I know I can,” you shrug, watching the water beneath the brush turn a bright turquoise. “But I prefer not to. Helps me clear my mind a bit.”

“Hm.” Was the small response you got in reply. To your surprise, Severus reached into the sink and grabbed a paintbrush, mimicking your movements as he began cleaning it.

“Oh,” you exclaimed softly. “It’s okay, I can do that-”

“Too late,” Severus retorted, casting a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve already started.”

The two of you scrubbed brushes in silence, and you just barely caught Severus let out a small, tired sigh. As you placed your final brush to the side to dry, you glanced at him.

“Rough day today?”

You had to hold in your giggles as he answered your question with the biggest eye roll you’d ever seen.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he muttered.

“Come,” you beckoned as you sat down in one of the empty seats in the middle of the class. You nodded for Severus to join you as you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat. “Tell me about it. What happened? Was it Potter again?

You smirked at the eye roll Severus gave you in response before tiredly making his way over to the seat across from you.

“Someone’s been stealing supplies for a Polyjuice potion,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have reasons to believe it’s Potter and his dunderhead friends.”

You bit back a smile, and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s him? Do you have evidence?”

“Trouble follows him wherever he goes, isn’t that evidence enough?”

You had trouble holding in a giggle, and Severus glared at you.

“He’s brewed Polyjuice potion before.” Severus continued. “It’s the only thing he can actually do well. And those specific ingredients keep going missing.”

You frown a little and shook your head.

“Really, Severus. I don’t know what you have against that boy, but you’ve got to give him a break,” you encouraged gently. “He’s got enough on his shoulders right now, with the Triwizard Tournament going on.”

“And what if he is stealing from my supplies?” Severus retorted.

“What if he isn’t?” You challenged calmly. Severus sighed again, shaking his head as he gazed at you.

“Should we place bets on whether it’s Potter who’s stealing from you?” You asked jokingly, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk. Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because every damned time we make a bet, you win.”

You snickered at Severus’ remark, before standing up from your seat and placing your hand reassuringly on the professor’s shoulder. He looked up at you with dark eyes that warmed very slightly at your touch.

“I truly do not know how you always manage to see the good in people.” He murmured, sighing tiredly. You squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“I just… see the good in everything I guess.” You shrugged. “Even things that seem terrible can be beautiful, if they’re in the right lighting.”

Severus let out a little snort at your comment, shaking his head.

“C’mon grumpypants,” you teased lightly, patting your friend on the back. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”

You walked over to your desk and opened the far left drawer. Upon hearing the dull scrape of wood as the drawer pulled open, Severus looked over at you with the tiniest smile.

“Have you added any teas to your collection?” He asked. He kept a somewhat level expression, but you couldn’t help but grin at the hint of a hopeful tone in his voice.

“I went to Hogsmeade last weekend and got a few more. Some just for you. Come over here and pick one, I’ll put the kettle on.”

Severus stood up just as you moved to the corner of the room to fill the kettle. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how shadow-like he was: the way his cloak billowed slightly as he almost seemed to glide over to your desk.

You heard a few papers rustle as you filled the kettle, and that’s when your heart stopped.

Oh no, oh god no.

You forgot to move your sketchbook, bloody hell.

Maybe Severus was looking at something else, you thought to yourself. Maybe you misheard and he was only rifling through your tea stash-

“Is this… me?”

Nope. He found it. Shit.

You set the kettle down slowly, your hands trembling as you felt a rush of heat fly up to your cheeks.

“S-Sorry?”

You kept your eyes glued to the teacups on the small wooden countertop, trying your best not to cringe as you continued to hear pages being flipped over gently.

“Y/N…” Severus murmured. “You drew these?”

You chewed your lip, just about ready to sink through the floorboards at this point.

“Y-yes.” Your voice came out as a small squeak, barely even intelligible.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard gentle footsteps approach you from behind.

“Turn around,” Severus encouraged softly. Clenching your jaw, you tried to ignore the burning heat in your cheeks as you shuffled around to face Severus.

His dark eyes were swirling with so many emotions, you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It terrified you. You looked down, and saw that he was holding one of your sketches in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t show those to anyone, they’re just for me to practice with…”

“This is how you see me?”

You heard Severus‘ voice catch in his throat, and you looked up to see his features had softened into a gentle and almost sad expression. You lowered your gaze to his hands again, taking a closer look at the sketch he brought over.

It was from the Yule Ball a few months ago. You had sketched Severus during dinner after you saw him throw his head back in a hearty laugh, thanks to a dirty joke Professor Sprout had casually dropped at the staff table that night. You couldn’t remember the joke for the life of you, but you’d never forget the way Severus’ eyes lit up with a rare joy few ever saw. Nor would you forget the way his hair curled that night, perfectly framing his face and making him look almost angelic.

“Joy looks good on you.” You explained in the tiniest whisper, pressing your lips together nervously. “I… that was one of my first times seeing you laugh, and I just…”

You trailed off, silently cursing the fact that your face was still as red as ever. Finally, to your relief, Severus set your sketch down. But when you looked up at him, you noticed his eyes were glassy.

Was he… crying?

“Oh.” You gasp softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry. It’s a terrible drawing, I know-”

Severus shook his head. “Stop bloody apologizing. It’s beautiful. All your sketches are. I had no idea.”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to find out.” You muttered, laughing your nerves out softly. Your heart nearly stopped as Severus reached out, gently cradling your hands in his.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly. “For… what you said.”

You frowned. “What did I say?”

“About… seeing the joy in me,” he replied. “That’s perhaps the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Your heart sank as you took in Severus’ words. You looked up, your soft eyes meeting his dark ones.

“It’s true.” You said simply. “It doesn’t take an expert to see you’ve been through some real shit, Sev. You deserve to be happy.”

Severus froze at your words, unsure of what to do or how to react. Then, to your surprise, he took one more step forward and closed the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, and you nearly gasped at how tightly he held you to him. You returned his embrace without hesitation, finally calming after the initial scare of Severus finding your sketches. He was warm. You could get used to this feeling.

“Thank you, Y/N.” You heard Severus whisper.

“For what?” You asked back just as softly.

“Showing me how you see the world. How you see… me.”

[starlitscars]

All you had to do

Severus Snape x F! Reader

Summary: It's a fateful night, already destined to be full of gloom and chaos. What else may go wrong if you don't listen to the the only thing Severus Snape wanted you to do, and show up at Hogwarts?

Word count: +11k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, Half-blood Prince era, loosely focused on the book events, age gap (not explicitly specified at all, reader is in her 20s, Severus in his late 30s), typical violence in the Wizarding World, DEATH EATERS (reader included), fighting, breaking (many things), bleeding, unforgivable curse, Severus Snape needs his own warning, wounds, wine, inappropriate touching (not by Severus), protective! Snape, angry! Snape, degrading, language, angst and fluff and smut (yes, all in one), kinda slow burn (look at the word count), confessions, kissing, unprotected PIV, oral (M), praising, cum play, a bit of rough manhandling, a bit of aftercare, no use of y/n. Let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: I haven't written in ages and this is the first time I do so for the Half-blood Prince. All because Severus Snape is irresistible. I hope you bear with me. You might also check my TikTok content (username: stars.lupin) for more of him and other HP dilfs (if you like). Reblogs and votes are appreciated very much.

Your lack of patience has always been disturbing. Tonight is no different.

The Vanishing Cabinet provides little space for smuggling more than one person at a time. You like to imagine that's the only source of your labored breaths as you stand aside and watch – with a mixture of expectancy and impatience – as silhouettes of familiar faces appear by your side. When the last of your followers drapes the dusty curtain over the Cabinet in a poor attempt at concealing it, you turn with a shake of your head and slip past the wooden door.

It should be easy from now on. The corridor is drak, empty, and you've manged to enter the walls of Hogwarts as unsuspecting as possible. All that you're supposed to do is to take a shortcut towards the Astronomy Tower which isn't too far from where you're standing – the Room of Requirement. It's not, however, the easiest of tasks when a dozen of Death Eaters are on your tail and their master has relied on you to carry them there without attracting anyone's attention. Any sane person would imagine that you had a death wish by accepting it in the first place.

Not only one, but more than ten Death Eaters breaking through the safety of Hogwarts, right under the Headmaster's nose? If you hesitate for a heartbeat and give yourself enough time to reflect on your decision, it definitely is nothing but a death wish.

But your time is limited and it's only a matter of time before the staff realize there are intruders within the walls of the castle. So you don't think of the possibilities as you lead the way and stride down the moonlit corridor and past the numerous portraits on the walls, making a silent gesture to remind the Death Eaters of the plan "Follow me as closely and quietly as possible."

However, they don't abide by your simple rule as their heavy steps is far from being stealthy. When the group of the cloaked figures turn around a corner and reach the tricky staircase that should lead you to the upper floor, you halt by the second step and motion for one of them closest to you to wait by the foot of the stairs so that you can examine the last entrance for any unexpected trap or protective enchantment – which, to your dismay, seems to be a lot of it surrounding every inch of the corridor that directly connected your shortcut to the Tower.

Content with your instruction, some of the Death Eaters snigger and their faces glow with excitement as they huddle and look around for the first time, fully taking in the view of Hogwarts and its eerie air that seems to bother none of them. They don't pay much attention as your shadow disappears into the darkness and you find a hideout away from their prying eyes, letting out the breath that's been strangling you for the past few minutes since your arrival. When you're alone, your steady posture falters for a moment and the anticipation of what's going to happen slowly catches up on you. A green smoky Mark, large enough to be seen from yards away, has been charmed to levitate by the ceiling of the Astronomy Tower. Its penetrative glow easily conquers the pearly light of the moon and breaks through the dead darkness of the night, as if it wants to warn you of the presence of the Dark Lord right by your feet. The gloomy fate that has waited so impatiently for this day to finally consume you whole.

You've tried to not think about him. Him and his final words. But when you're alone and consumed with your fears like this... It's impossible. Your patience is little to nothing, and even that is wearing thin.

All you had to do – which happened to be the same as what Severus Snape wanted you to do – was to stay a safe distance away from this chaotic night, and yet you hadn't paid him a mind when you made your decision. You couldn't, really. The Dark Lord has put his full trust in you and one failed attempt or slipup leads to another, consequently ruining the perfect image you've been trying to craft for him for months.

Taking one more glance at the bizarre shade of green in the sky, you decide that your determination to walk on the same fragile line as Severus still outweighs all the scolding and ignorance he could direct towards you.

If he's going to risk his life tonight, then so are you.

Poor servants of the Dark Lord. Only if they knew what awaited them upstairs, only if they were as invested in this task as you are, they wouldn't be this pleased.

This is all a game of pretence. You won't back down now.

When you're supposedly done with examining the so-called shortcut – and more calm and determined than when you left your group – you retract your steps and emerge out of your hiding spot, not quite catching the attention of the Death Eaters at first. Some of them have gathered around a hairy, reeking figure who is babbling excitedly about-

"... You don't understand. Lots of kids are here. It will be a feast. I can smell the blood-"

You push through the crowd and draw your wand out, glowering at the source of those nasty words who was – much to your disgust – dragging his hairy, filthy hand over the portraits, a sinister smirk dancing on his yellow teeth. If only one of the people in portraits woke up, the whole school would be informed in seconds. And no doubt you'd kill him on the spot.

"No funny business," You hiss harshly, blood rushing to your face at the thought of his unpleasant ideas. "unless you want us exposed." You don't attempt to hide your disgust as you keep on staring him down. His blood-dried fingers pause midair and he scans his surrounding audience for some kind of backup. Seeing as everyone has backed down, the werewolf reluctantly retreats his dirty hand.

A moment or so passes until-

"So strict tonight. Have mercy on us, lady." He mutters to himself, mouth twitching into a nasty grin. It's a poor attempt on his side to justify his carelessness and greed, eliciting suppressed jeers from two of the Death Eaters. But you hear it loud and clear and your wand is poking at his jaw in a blink of an eye.

"You think Nagini will choose you for desert or the main meal, Fenrir? It's going to be a feast, after all." Your eyes trail up and down with repugnance, pushing the wand to dig deeper into his scarred skin to punctuate your words. He gulps in terror and backs down as quietly as possible. You turn to continue before any of them has the chance to spot the faint smirk on your face.

"Brace yourselves for what's to come. Wands ready by your side. This path should be free from Dumbledore's Guards..."

And your statement is partially true.

Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you lean down and march all the way towards the very end of yet another deserted corridor, undoing the protective enchantments and making way for the Death Eaters just as you'd been taught. A few feet away from the spiral staircase – which is located right below the Astronomy Tower – a sudden shout erupts from the opposite direction, bringing your hasty run into an unwanted halt.

"Found them, Granger. This way!"

To be honest, you half expected them to show up here at last. The Headmaster would not let the castle's protection go down without a fight. He wouldn't also let all of this look like a pretentious game planned beforehand and easy to guess by the Dark Lord's servants or the members of the Order, speaking of which, begin to round on you before you can fully turn on your heels.

Thankfully, there is not many of them.

But that doesn't mean it will be easy.

Especially when you witness the stunned expressions of your opponents as they see you not by their side, but rather against them and mingled within a sea of dark-cloaked figures. There's no time for explanations. Soon enough, hell breaks loose and the eerie darkness is replaced with jets of light being shot at different directions.

You fight with reluctance, eyes hopelessly searching for a sign of Severus in every corner. Why do you expect to spot him in the crowd, when all you want for him is to be safe?

The Death Eaters manage to trap two of the Aurors in ropes. A particular curse ricochets off the wall and blows the enormous chandelier overhead, shattering it into pieces. The force of the explosion sends you falling backwards. The stone wall cracks, bricks of various sizes along with shards of glass scattering all over the floor and filling the air with specks of dust. The incident seems to catch the Members of the Order off-guard too.

The pink-haired Auror who had informed the rest of the Members, crouches down to help another Auror whose face you don't quite make out in the momentary darkness.

This must be your chance to reach for the Tower. Calling hastily after Amycus Carrow and his sister, you gesture at the two nearest and mostly unharmed Death Eaters to make a brisk run for the staircase. You are so busy squeezing through the crowd and getting away from the remaining guards that you don't pay attention to a distant wand-waving that sends several shards flying in your direction.

It is probably aimed at everyone who attempts to mount the stairs. It doesn't really matter, as you're the last of the Death Eaters. Waves after waves of searing pain ripple inside you as splinters of glass dig into your skin, inflicting wound after wound on your forearm.

"You're hurt!" Alecto shrieks with panic, making a move to descend and help you.

"Just go up. GO UP. I'll be fine."

She nods and follows your order, disappearing off the view.

You turn your attention back to the chaos, catching sight of two Aurors narrowly dodging flames and spells as they chase after you. That's when it happens. Your knees give in for a split second and you stumble on the second step. Clutching the wand tightly into your uninjured hand, you flick it around and whisper several curses to block the stair.

You can't let this be over very soon.

But then you can't tell how much time has passed when you eventually make it to the Tower. Your head has started to throb with an agonizing pace, and the cool night air doesn't help the fresh cuts on your arm. If you dare a glance over the wooden floor, you'd spot drops of blood on your track. To make it all worse, everyone's attention is suddenly drawn to you. You stand more straight, maintaining an unreadable expression. As it's apparent, your arrival was in the midst of a heated discussion between Draco Malfoy and the Headmaster, whose calm eyes are now fixed on you.

You involuntarily gulp down, hoping your face isn't as pale as you think it is. A wand is aimed at him. He's disarmed. He's about to be killed. And yet all he does is to shake his head incredulously. The pain might've been a push to your delusions, but you're sure it's too subtle for anyone to notice. It's almost as if he's trying to remind you that "He won't be pleased when he sees you here, like this."

Your head hangs low, now finding more interest in the maroon liquid pooling by your feet than anything else.

Oh Severus. He won't be pleased by many things.

"That's right, what you're thinking. She led us to your spot, poor Dumbledore." Fenrir Greyback taunts in a mocking tone, earning the first nods of approval from his fellow Death Eaters.

"I see, and I have to admit it's been quite outstanding on her part," Dumbledore says, pausing for a moment to ponder his thoughts before voicing them, "It must be hurting you. They're putting up a good fight down there, I suppose? I suggest that you leave it to Draco and your friends here, seeing that you have already contributed to their plan..."

Friends. It makes you feel nauseous. These blasted things. All of them reek of blood, sweat, greed, and blind loyalty. If it wasn't because of Severus, you'd never be here.

"No..."

I can't leave it. I have to stay because of him.

"Draco, hurry up. We don't have much time left." Amycus spits, his voice laced with annoyance.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps makes their heads turn. Your heart skips a beat. You don't have to try to guess who it is. Only the person who'd taught you about Dark Arts could pass through the curses you'd put on the stairs earlier. He has a rich, heavy aura about him that effortlessly wraps itself around your whole being, rendering you speechless, breathless and yet alive at the same time.

The helpless shouts and screams coming from downstairs hasn't died down yet.

Silence stretches into infinity as you stand there. Your limbs feeling numb, even paralyzed. He doesn't notice you at first as he grabs Draco by his collar and pushes him aside.

Your eyes sting as you gather your courage and lift your head to spare him a fleeting gaze. He's this close to you. His features are gleaming under the greenish light of the Mark. And yet he's still unaware. Five blinks of your eyes is all takes for it to come to an end. On the first blink, his wand is drawn out and aimed directly at Dumbledore. On the second blink he tilts his head slightly to the right and catches sight of your wounds first. On the third blink he's looking into your eyes. You don't dare to jump to the next one, so you force yourself to stare back, unblinking.

And do you see the tiredness in those sunken, shadowed eyes? His expression is blank, or so he thinks it is. Because you don't fail to detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?

When you're consumed by the force of your fourth blink, a pleading voice calls for him and he has to turn and look away from you, who was on the verge of breaking down.

"Severus, Please."

A jet of green light is shot from the tip of his wand, and on the fifth blink you're being dragged down the stairs along with the other Death Eaters, his grip on your uninjured hand only tight enough to reassure you that he's still there. You're still alive.

On the way down, your spinning head wonders whether Dumbledore had assumed Severus would waver and second-guess his decision if his gaze lingered on you a little longer? Was it really that?

"I'll get us out of here. You'll be fine."

You can't make out his face, but his shoulders are stiff. You nod nonetheless, words failing you miserably. He sounds unsure. His voice is shaking the tiniest bit. No one can assume that, seeing as his features intimidate even the fly who dares to pass by him in the air.

The pain is getting into you.

He takes a much needed turn, avoiding the chaotic fight unfolding as you pass the entrance and sprint into the cold night air. The courtyard is dark and your vision is getting blurry by each passing second, making it incredibly hard for you to watch your steps. You try to concentrate, you really do. You don't try to stop him though. You think that... Your presence along with the rest of the night's events should've caused more than enough concern for him.

You don't see why it would be necessary to risk it all again. It's not necessary to break your steps. You'd be fine, because he said so. You'd be-

A jet of red light soars past your head.

Distant voices call his name. They threaten him to stop. They don't know much about Severus Snape or else they wouldn't direct their threats towards him.

The growing shouts indicate that more students and staff have woken up. A number of Members have somehow managed to drag the fight out into the open. In your dizzy state, Severus dodges those shots with lazy flicks of his wand. He's so strong that he doesn't even need to turn to his opponents to know what they're up to. You wish you could keep up with him. You wish you could tell him how much you adore him for who he is.

It's a shame. All you had to do was to stay away from this.

Just as a rocket force hits you hard in the back, everything takes a quick turn for worse. You don't just stumble on your steps. The spell pulls all the strength from your body, your lungs too tight to breathe. You were just a few feet away from making it to the gate. Then you could Apparate.

Someone shouts "Incendio!" and flames of red-hot fire flash before your eyes before you collapse to the dark ground, vision going blank as you lose your grip with reality. The only warm touch that could leave you breathless, but alive, is gone.

°°°

Waking up in a cold sweat might not have been the best feeling in the world. It takes you a minute or two to register your surroundings as part of you incredulously waits for the ache to make an agonizing appearance, burn a hole in your limp body here and break a bone there. But you feel none of it. You might've just lost all your senses by now. At least you're not entrapped in complete darkness. At least you're alive.

The relief confuses you.

"My dear... He was not mistaken with his timing. He's never been... You are awake just in time." A voice exclaims with wonder and relief, pacing the dimly lit room to sit by the edge of the bed. She slowly helps you up in a sitting position.

"My wounds... my back-"

"You know better than to ask me who healed them." Narcissa Malfoy says in a soft tone. Your face must be riddled with a mixture of question and anxiety. Because when she places a soothing hand upon yours and slowly caresses it, you just realize that you've been clutching the bedsheet tightly in your grip.

"Is he- Narcissa, is he alright?" You ask, staring down at the marbled ground.

She smiles knowingly, still a little overwhelmed in her own world. "He is. He brought you here... I was worried for Draco, and then you. I still am... You must have seen- you understand how it all would've been if any of you failed tonight. But you're alright. Severus tended to your wounds. He sat by your side for a while..."

Something stirs inside you. He was here when you were unconscious. Severus Snape cannot be hating you that much, can he?

Narcissa pauses for a moment, swallowing the heavy lump at the mention of her son. She's right. It would've been a living nightmare if you hadn't succeeded in killing the Hogwarts's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

"When I came in to visit you, he said you'd be up in fifty minutes sharp. Then he left to discuss the matters with the Dark Lord."

He's alive and unharmed. What else would you want from this world?

"Quit pondering the unknown. The Dark Lord is expecting you. You know you have outdone yourself in this one."

There's a glimmer of hope in the pit of your stomach as she leads you to the drawing room. The sound of chattering and careless laughter grows louder with each step. And before you chance a full glance over your surroundings, you're settled on a chair by the all-too-familiar ornate table that has witnessed many secret meetings within the Malfoy Manor.

All eyes turn to you when Voldemort announces your presence. Severus is in your line of vision, right by his side. An uncomfortable, cold shiver ripples inside you. You don't dare to let your gaze land on him, not yet.

The difference with your usual meetings is that there is no palpable sign of fear or gloom in the air now. There are several glasses upon a tray, filled with bloodred wine and floating around the table, except that no one is really holding it. It's charmed to move on its own accord. When it pauses by your side, you don't hesitate to pick a glass, draining it all at once.

Your companion Death Eaters snigger triumphantly. Their manners are careless, full of greed. It's almost as if they have just conquered the whole Wizarding World. The rough surface of their unbearable faces is consumed by liquor, drunk eyes roaming up and down your body to the point that it disgusts you to the core. It's an unpleasant experience, to say the least.

If only you could draw your wand out and leave a hole in their chests.

"I must say I am honored by your presence." Voldemort says at once, his pleased expression fixated on you. He extends a hand towards the crowd. The horrid noises die down as he continues. "Here our friends were thinking it would be an utter disgrace if you didn't get to share this victorious moment with us."

The comfortable silence lasts only for a moment. Several Death Eaters howl and thump their fistson the table, voicing their agreement with the Dark Lord's statement.

How very charming.

You place your glass down, fighting to gain your composure as you bow your head down.

"The honor is all mine, my Lord..."

Finally, your desperate gaze wavers and finds Severus. He is staring straight ahead. No scolding, no frowning, no nothing. It breaks you harder than the chandelier you'd witnessed hours ago. It cuts through your skin sharper than the shards you'd endured. It's salt to an open wound. You avert your eyes and settle them back on Voldemort who happens to have stood up, nodding his approval at your words. You maintain a respectful smile.

But who are you decieving? You're barely there. The only person you care about is avoiding you.

"However, I require complete heedfulness from you in your next missions – one of which happens to be very soon on your part – and should you need any assistance or advice, Severus here feels much obligated to help you. I trust him to be your partner in your upcoming task." Voldemort states as his skinny fingers trail over the huge snake climbing up his chair. He glances sideways at Severus, expecting an answer.

His beautiful, adorable face is contorted with disquiet. It's buried and gone before his master can notice anything. He forces a nod.

"At your order, my Lord."

When have you let your fingers disappear beneath the table? Why are you fidgeting?

All the heads incline towards Voldemort, glasses raising in midair for a toast.

"To the Dark Lord."

Their wheezing and babbling continues for another hour.

You stare down at your glass, watching as it refills itself with red liquor. Does he ever notice the little details about you? Does he detect the shake in your voice at times when you try your hardest to not choke on your words?

Voldemort is satisfied by what you have done. It should be your best-laid plan. Severus Snape has always forewarned you about early conclusions, but you can't help it when the thought crosses your mind. This has been your best-laid plan to day.

The only difference with reality is that, it isn't. You don't feel triumphant.

A sudden pat on your shoulder breaks your train of thoughts. You give Narcissa a questioning look. She only gestures towards the door, hoping that it's enough to bring your senses back into action. His dark black cloak is flapping as his silhouette disappears in darkness.

You scurry out, hasty footsteps echoing as you opt for the entrance door. That must be the only exit. The hallway is empty and dark. You pause in a corner, calling out his name. There's no answer other than the blowing whistle of the night breeze wafting in through the ground-floor windows. There's no sign of Severus down into the enormous yard or even by the wrought-iron gate of the Manor.

The darkness bugs you as you have to search every possible corner as well as watching your steps. You distinctly remember Narcissa telling you how the level of illumination should be the lowest for safety reasons. Haven't you suffered enough in the darkness?

"Severus, a word... Please."

You quickly retrace your steps, trying another pathway. Maybe he hasn't left yet. You call out again, pausing for a fraction of second to pull out your wand and illuminate your surroundings.

Two big palms appear out of nowhere and shove you headfirst against the nearest wall, the force of it knocking the air out of your lungs. Not giving you a chance to register what's happening, the stranger pushes your shoulders forward, pinning your hands behind your back in an uncomfortable angle. It sends your wand falling and rattling on the floor. You gasp in pain.

"Pick it, quickly."

The rancid voice calls to another stranger by your left. You twist your body from side to side, trying to wriggle out of the Fenrir Greyback's crushing grip.

"Let go of me, you filthy, blasted creature- ahh."

He only tightest his hairy paws, pushing you further into the wall. The cold, iron surface of an ill-shaped decoration digs deep into your cheek. He leans over and grins, his whiskers coming in contact with your skin. "Don't fight it little minx. No one's gonna hear your pathetic whines."

Greyback turns to the other stranger, voice laced with sarcasm and hatred. "Go and fetch more wine, Yaxley. We want to feast like beasts."

You barely suppress a shudder at those words. The other Death Eater seems to nod and disappear down the hallway with quick footsteps, no words spoken.

"Shocks you, doesn't it? I like it when you're frightened."

Your eyes are squeezed shut, heart thudding impatiently in your chest. His mere proximity is making you nauseous. The drawing room is so far from here that you wonder if anyone will ever catch you.

A terrible, drawn-out cry of misery sounds in the distant corner. If you're not mistaken in your miserable state, it's come from the same direction the other Death Eater had marched into minutes ago. The werewolf is too wasted to notice any other sound of the sort.

His animalistic grin only grows wider as he takes in your sight.

"Here I noticed you were leaving too early. It would be disrespectful to not celebrate properly... With a pretty thing like you..."

You try again, scrambling to loosen his grasp on your wrists. But he has just put all his damned weight on you, and his massive frame keeps you locked in place.

"You're sick and psychotic. I should've told- should've, NO!" Your scream is muffled as his hairy hand locks around your mouth. His other hand clawing its way past the hem of your skirt, aiming to feel all the way up to your hips. Tears of despair roll down your cheeks.

You wish you wouldn't live to see this day. It truly is a sickening scene – repulsive even – and full of everything you ever despised. Blood in your veins begins to boil with hatred.

The unbearable weight is suddenly lifted off your shoulders, air filling your lungs as if you have been breathless for a long time. The werewolf is practically thrown against the opposite wall, crashing down with a loud thud.

A wand is illuminated.

Your knees give away in an instant and slide down. You rest your head against the wall, willing the tears to stop.

"What the heck are you doing, Snape?" Greyback snarls, sobered up just enough to sputter an explanation. "Just because you're our Lord's favorite, doesn't mean you could beat up his loyal followers. I was not taking advantage of her. She was wasted and alone. She asked me to be her company."

The blatant lies come straight out of his pointed teeth. You wish your mind was less occupied back in the meeting. Nagini would've wiped any sign of his filth off the planet, as if he never even existed in the first place.

Severus is so angry that you're certain Greyback will have to pick those teeth off the floor if he keeps on mustering up some nonsense. You've never seen him allowing emotions to make an appearance on his face.

But under the dim lighting of his wand, you see him seething. The ferocity in his gaze might set any wrongdoer ablaze. If Fenrir could see the twist of rage and fire in his eyes the way you could, he would've wished to never talk at all.

"You old dungeon bat, get off us now. That slut wanted-"

The werewolf fails miserably. Those slurs are directed at you, and that's what sets Severus off. The next second he's writhing in excruciating pain, squirming on the dark green carpet of the hallway with a beasty wail of pain.

He's Crucioing him.

His rage apparently only intensifies when he turns to you. A slight shake of his wrist has the werewolf howling even harder in agony. But- this time his wailing and hopeless cries are silenced with a charm. No one's gonna hear anything.

Severus knows he doesn't need to ask you to make sure, as he's inflicting enough torture on the wretched brute for putting his hands on you. Still, he wants to stop the giddiness from taking over you. You're light-headed and unbeknownst to you, it's killing him for the umpteenth time in the past few hours.

"Is that true? Did you ask him to?"

His voice is raspy, but not discomposed. You just stare at him. The sheer terror has left you speechless, words foreign to your tongue.

He tries again, more softly. Concern is painting a deep line between his knitted brows. "You should answer me, sweetheart. I want you to keep your focus on me. Did you really want this?"

You shake your head slowly.

"No, Severus. No."

His piercing gaze lingers on your lap for a second or two before he turns. He decides that a broken jaw is Fenrir's payment for leaving two burning red marks on your wrists.

The crack echoes in the air.

Severus leans down calmly, undoing the spells one by one, not in a haste to let the Death Eater feel any kind of relief. Dark hair is covering his features, but his next words are loud and clear.

"Do something as close to this again, and I will make sure everyone lives to see the day I turn your bones into powder and keep it in a stoppered jar, right on the shelf of my cold dungeon. Every. Single. Bone."

Next thing you know is Fenrir's practically running for the entrance door, not even dreaming of looking back.

He must have understood. Severus Snape is a man who keeps his promises.

"I wasn't aware being incautious has become your new luxury."

He states and crouches down before you, examining your bruised cheek with much caution and care before his onyx eyes wander to yours.

"Severus, I- he caught me off-guard. I was looking for you. Wanted to talk about-" You choke back, eyes welling up with fresh tears.

"Don't," He lifts a hand, stopping you before it all becomes too much again. "Don't start now. Not here. Can you walk for me?"

You nod wordlessly. If he's not ignoring you, if he's soft with you, if he's here for you, you can do the walking.

°°°

It turns out that Severus had left the meeting earlier in order to find a safe spot where you could settle for your next mission, he explained on the way. Apparently, it had to be located in a Muggle neighborhood, with the lowest chance of being tracked by the Ministry of Magic or the Members of the Order of the Phoenix. You and Severus were well-known among the Members and after the attack to Hogwarts, they'd be on the lookout for both of you.

Hiding out was one of your missions.

"...and we have to stay here until further instructions from the Dark Lord."

He doesn't really reveal much after that, but you assume that this hiding game won't continue for too long under the circumstances that he becomes the next Headmaster. You can only hope it doesn't happen.

More danger for him is a terrible idea, but you don't dwell upon it. For now.

Then he explained that the moment he returned to the Manor, first thing he decided on was to inform the Dark Lord. He then asked whether Narcissa was aware of your whereabouts and the confused Malfoy answered him with "She must be with you by now." It gave him an idea. A very bad idea. Most of the Death Eaters had already fled. But then, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Yaxley's poor attempt at sneaking the wine tray, two wands hidden messily beneath his sleeve. His first instinct was to follow the Death Eater. He had your wand with him.

The night is not as young as before, but still alive when you arrive to your hideout. It's a small Muggle house, not much into it. A dusty bookshelf, picture frames, a small table and a worn-out couch. Severus insists on using "No magic!" before disappearing in another room. You settle on the couch.

He returns with a glass of water and stands over you, waiting expectantly for you to drink it. The scowl is back on his face and it's permanent, but he still cares.

You drink in silence, trying to postpone what's to come, but those dark orbits are glinting with so much reprimand and disappointment that your throat feels dry again. You place the half-empty glass on the small table. His tense gaze follows it momentarily.

"Is there something wrong with my face? You've been staring daggers at me."

He's been teetering on the edge, and your mere question sets him off. "Many things have gone wrong and you were at the receiving end of them. I believe that your brilliant mind has conjured a good enough reason or two to explain this chaos, true?"

Well, you did not expect it to start like that. You're rendered speechless, so he continues, pacing back and forth on the limited space of the room.

"Let me reason then. Maybe the Miss 'capable of everything' in you wanted to ruin me by showing up to the one place I forbade her from?"

"I don't want to ruin you Severus. I never do."

"Then may I know why your actions have become so foolish and careless all of a sudden?" He seethes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I already explained it. I was caught off-guard when I came looking for you. I was worried sick and... I wanted to talk to you. And about what happened in Hogwarts...," you pause for a heartbeat, fiddling with the rim of the glass. You're not sure if your throat feels more dry or heavy with a growing lump. "The plan went mostly fine. I was being careful. The injuries weren't probably that deep or severe-"

That is a blatant lie. He scoffs, shaking his head.

"Please, I beg your finest pardon to stop there. Because I do not remember you being conscious when I had to choose between pulling the shards out first or tending to the rapid bleeding or mending your broken back. Do I have to go on?"

You shake your head, painfully aware of what he would say if he went on. The red imprints have turned into a pink shade, but not totally faded off your skin. Were you really hurt that badly when you tripped over and fell on the ground?

Guilt begins to wash over you. It has been severe enough to upset him, the Severus Snape who cares about very few things in life.

"I'm sorry Severus. I had to be more watchful. But don't you think I'm capable of more than what you want me to do? Don't you believe I can do more than just 'staying away from danger'? I did my job, well I did most of it- and the Dark Lord trusts me."

And if I wanted to be uninjured, I had to stop myself from thinking too much about you and It's never been easy. Not when you look at me like that.

His steps come to an abrupt halt in front of you, dark cloak sweeping mindlessly on the floor. "Capable or not, trusted or not. I cannot care less about your extraordinary achievements, because you happen to have been terribly careless in your acts of bravery. I made it pretty much clear that I don't want you to put yourself in danger like that, and that was final. But you and your cavalier attitude are too stubborn to notice a thing." He grits through his teeth. Your words and explanations do nothing to help the situation. If anything, he's getting angrier by each passing second.

You know he's being irrational. Severus Snape is totally mistaken if he thinks danger is only waiting for him behind the gates and he is the one who should be allowed to enter.

You shoot back.

"If you have made up your mind about finishing this job, me and my cavalier attitude will do the same. Please do not treat me like I'm defenseless or unaware of the danger, and it should only be you who is constantly risking everything. If you don't want me to be hurt, I'm letting you know that keeping me sheltered and away from you is the greatest pain. I want to fight by your side, Severus."

He lets out a frustrated growl, eyes narrowing.

"Merlin... why are you being so foolish? I just do not understand... You're asking to get yourself killed. What are you thinking? Or are you just not thinking at all?"

"I'm thinking that I can handle it just fine," You insist, stubbornly.

"You can handle it just fine," He repeats in a mocking undertone. "How very intriguing. Because if I'm not mistaken, you nearly died on me, not once but TWICE in a row even after I told you I don't want you to involve yourself in it."

You wonder if you're imagining things or that's a teardrop sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the collar of his white shirt. Your heart breaks just a little too much at that.

"That's the decision I should make, Severus." You say slowly.

The air is thick around you and you feel suffocated. Even in your worst state of mind, you weren't tricked into thinking that his aura leaves you speechless and breathless. You really shouldn't let the words fail you. You need a moment to gather your thoughts, and you need it now.

The glass is fully drained before you're standing, mere feet away from his rigid posture.

"Do you think I take pleasure in pretending that the violence doesn't affect me? Do you think I enjoy dealing with those creepy Death Eaters? Do you think it intrigues me when I have to die thousand times in a day, just to fulfill a stupid mission? Do you think I relish in the fact that one of them cornered me and tried to... to-" Choking back a tear, you continue. "Do you really think of me like that?"

"Why? Just give me a reason why you're doing this. Why aren't you being safe?" His voice thunders over the quiet stillness of the room.

There is something about the way he is looking at you. You think you'd seen it back in the Astronomy Tower as well, even though it lasted for a fleeting moment. Now it's permanent. It feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at this precise moment when you begin to realize that he's not shouting because he’s angry.

He’s afraid.

"Because I love you."

As soon as the confession tumbles out of your mouth, you're taking a step back, eyes wide. The three words that had been there, for months or even years, are now out. You knew he was different from everyone else the moment you'd laid eyes on him on your very first meeting in the Order. The day you changed sides, those three words never changed. You haven't just admitted it out loud. You've known it for so long.

Under any other circumstance, he would scoff and make a witty remark or even joke on it, 'love in these times is for fools' and honestly, who were you but a fool?

Love is daunting. It brings grief. But it also brings peace. It makes you feel reckless.

"You- you what?" He falters, voice barely audible and equally taken aback by what you've just said.

"I love you," You declare, inching your way closer. "And I know that all you want is to protect me, Severus. I know that I have been incautious. I know that you are worried, but so am I. My hands may tremble on the way, my knees may wobble, my whole being may shiver, but..." You step even closer, until your chest brushes his. The subtle scent of mint invades your senses. You look up, more sincere than he'd ever seen you, "as long I'm in love with you, I can fight and I will."

You love him.

And you know he loves you.

From the way he taught you extra lessons and always made sure you were taking care of yourself, or the way his gaze lingered on you a second or two or three longer on every passing glance, you know it. The soft edge and subtle acknowledgment that he only saved for you, the featherlight brushes of his fingertips on your cheeks, the way he bothered to heal your wounds and then went on to beat up the ones who had hurt you the slightest... None of it was your imagination. He never did those things for others. He, Severus Snape, had willingly waited by your side when you were on the edge of the line.

You don't have to question him about his thoughts in all those moments. You know.

He has shown you what love is, in his own way.

When you turn to give him space, it dawns on you that he might have put a few drops of those comforting draughts of his into your water. You struggle to suppress a smile, not feeling an ounce of regret after your confession.

"Please never try to stop me again."

"Hush now," He scolds softly, his frame towering behind you. He snakes his arms around your middle in a slow, tentative pace, giving you enough space to back down. Ever the thoughtful man he is, "this might just make the matters worse, but I love you too."

He tilts his head and rests his chin on your shoulder, pulling you back into his chest. His warm exhale tickles your skin. He's too close, too broad, too strong and irresistible that you feel an overpowering desire to ask him to imprison you in his hold for a long, long time.

But you wait patiently. You should have patience. The tension hasn't quite left him. He's barely touching you, but he's there, quietly solving the puzzle of anxiety and fear that has riddled his mind.

A ghost of a kiss is pressed below your earlobe, setting a warm shiver trickling down the delicate skin. He tries again, his hoarse voice now more confident.

"I love you," His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he's turning you around. "and I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life, stubborn girl."

He cradles your face between his large, warm palms. His thumbs brush back and forth over your jawline, a stark contrast to the brutal way he'd argued with you mere seconds ago. He ponders, his eyes searching yours for any trace of doubt or uncertainty. When he finds nothing that might stop him, he leans down, brushing his nose against your own. His long fingers travel downward, curling around the nape of your neck. It's torturously slow and thoughtful, similar to that of a snake wrapping its way around its prey.

All you wish is to be his prey. His stubborn prey.

His hands. Lord, those hands of his. Severus could actually smother you with them, and you'd thank him. If you give yourself a moment to ponder the thought, it blows your mind how he has barely done anything and you've already decided to let him be cruel to you.

A sly smirk dances over the corner of his mouth, covered by the stealthy darkness of the room. He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly. It's a chaste kiss at first, experimental even. But he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, fingers squeezing around your neck hard enough to elicit a muffled gasp. Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the cold wall, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved. He doesn't deem it necessary to ask for it, wait for it. Your obscene thoughts are written all over your face, effortlessly guiding his actions.

"So divine. So pretty."

His breathless voice is barely audible, more like a thought spoken to himself as his gaze travels back and forth between your eyes and the lips he so eagerly wants to kiss until he turns you into a swollen, red and bruised piece of art.

His other hand rests over the small of your back, fingers digging deep to emphasize his praise. You whimper into his mouth, all hot and bothered by the warm imprints of his fingertips. You slide your hands up his broad chest and past his shoulders until your fingers tangle in those dark black strands of his. You hold onto him for dear life.

But even dear life crumbles under the intensity of his presence.

"I do not wish to witness what I witnessed today again. Will you promise to be more patient and careful from now on?"

"I'm all yours now. That much I can promise."

It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him.

It washes over him for a split second, the sort of reaction he would have if he were to use a step-by-step instruction to brew a potion only to watch it turn into a totally different draught. It's, however, soon replaced with a sinister desire, creeping closer to the unrelenting hold he has around your throat. He looks at you like he might just strangle you on the spot or give his all to make you feel good. Either way, all doubts and cautious touches are gone in an instant. Up until now, he didn't want to indulge in what he truly wished to do to you. And oh, you do want to be the reason Severus loses his control.

Taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, his firm hold forces you to maintain eye contact.

"That, I can say, is not very clever of you." He states, a tinge of warning, reprimand and lust mingled in his tone. It sends a shudder down your spine. His firm grip on your arm is already pushing you to turn on your hills before you hear his order. "Turn around."

A sudden gasp emanates from you as the side of your face comes in contact with the bare wall. You brace your palms against the cold brick to keep your balance, fighting the sudden urge to grind back into him when he creeps closer, caging you between his arms, still clad in that dark grey coat that you can't wait to see unbuttoned.

But something else is distracting you. You can't fight it from getting into you. Not when it's dark and you're pushed against a wall, locked in a position that sends memories of the prior events flashing before your eyes. You blink a couple of times, willing the blurry images to go away.

You try to focus on the moment, you really do.

His hands rest on either side of yours as he peppers open-mouthed kisses over the crook of your neck, setting your skin ablaze by the slightest friction of his match.

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, closer than before. You have no idea if it's meant to keep you focused on the moment, but then your skirt is bunched up in a fist, the rough pattern of his cotton slacks pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. It helps a little. You barely suppress a gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his bulge between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat over your groin.

"Are you going to stop me or take your lesson the way you deserve it?"

That werewolf was going to do what he wanted if Severus wasn't there to save you. He was going to touch you and no one would hear your hopeless cries.

"Would never stop my master... I would never." You breathe, need and desperation sewn in your words.

Severus hums in approval, "Good," then he brings his hand down to grip your thigh tightly beneath his wide palm, fingers resting dangerously close to where he knows you want them the most. "I shall make it a memorable lesson, then."

You're a mess between your legs, but still pretty much bothered, and Severus is painfully aware of it.

He doesn't relent or halt though, two fingers trailing up over the wet patch on your panties. He pushes the tips of his fingers up slightly, pulling a low whimper from you as they catch on your weeping hole. Then he opts for the languid drags again, feeling the growing mess under his touch. "Is there anything you wish to tell me? Those thoughts are all but bolting in your head."

"I don't know. I- I can't..." You whine, shaking your head. How pathetic would it make you look if he hears about your nonexistent fears and what ifs?

To be honest, you can't hide anything from him forever. Severus could easily read your mind. But he's being patient with you, appearing as nonchalant as ever.

"Is it distracting you? Go on sweetheart. We both know you can tell me what is bothering this pretty head. I'm here to listen." He reassures calmly. Somewhere between the first and last word, his fingers dip beneath the fabric of your panties to gather some of the slick. Then he halts his actions altogether, warm hand covering your mound in a delicious grip, but no friction to ease the tension.

Part of you ponders the double meaning behind his question. Because you're pretty much distracted by the soothing rub of his other thumb over your wrist. It makes the dark wall appear less intimidating than it already is.

You try to move, to create some kind of friction, but he holds you there. 'If you want your reward, you should earn it' was what he usually told you in all those tough, never-ending days of extra Dark Arts lessons. Back then, you didn't know much about him and if the small touches and placating smiles were anything to go by, you can earn this reward as well.

You clear your throat. As painful as it is, you should get the words off your chest. You trust him.

"Back in the Manor... I hated it- I hated the way he made me feel. Him and his- those filthy hands. All I could think about was you, Severus. If you weren't there-"

"Shh, I know sweetheart, I know. I am here now." Finally, finally he touches you with proper care, fingers dragging up the slit and smearing the arousal over your clit. He rubs slow circles at first, all while soothing the near-panic experience out of your body with his unwavering touch. One thing you realize about this man is that he doesn't tease, but rather goes straight to the point. The friction is such a relief. Your knees tremble as his touch becomes more firm and assured. "No one is going to hurt you. I won't let that happen again. Now tell me... you want your master to get rid of those bad thoughts for you, am I right?"

His words placate you. Your nod is quick, without a second thought. It's terribly easy to fold beneath him.

Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it beats impatiently in your chest.

He tuts, not quite convinced. His fingers work faster, making it incredibly hard for you to form coherent lines. Your low moans and whines turn a little louder, filling the silence of the room. The wicked desire in his slow drawl is not helping at all. "My girl should use her words."

But he doesn't give you the opportunity to do so when he fluidly shoves two fingers inside, emitting a gutteral moan from you. Your hands fumble in a clumsy attempt to hold onto a part of him, his arm, his cloak. You take him easily, pussy gripping his fingers with an obscene squelch that makes him cave and let his chest rumble with a sound between a low groan and a curse.

"I, uh- yes, that's right. Please do it."

He hums and pulls out before quickly plunging in again. The sudden force of it pulls you closer into him, if that's even possible. His fingers are knuckles deep, curled in a way that should be forbidden because of how sinful it is. But then he's hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

You practically claw at his shoulders, knees becoming wobbly as the euphoric sensation builds up within your core, the coil threatening to snap at any moment.

But you're making a lot of noise and it cuts deep through the silence of this Muggle house, not aware of the fact that it might give you away. Part of Severus wishes he could use a silencing charm. Instead, his free hand rests on the column of your throat, feeling the way it vibrates beneath each helpless moan, blessing his ears.

You might not see it, but his chest swells with pride. You're a mess, and he's the one responsible for it.

Very reluctantly, his wide palm covers your mouth, muffling your blissed-out cries. "Be a good girl and keep it quite... let it all out for me. I want you to think of nothing else. Just let go." His thumb presses hard against your clit and that's your undoing. Your head falls back, waves of pleasure blasting and rippling over your skin, chest warm with white-hot ecstacy.

You're a sight to behold.

Especially when you're putty in his hands like this.

And there's only so much Severus can do to refrain from bending you over the table and pounding into you senseless 'til the break of dawn.

You pant heavily, still quite entranced by the intensity of the orgasm he just gave you. Pieces of clothing have been tossed somewhere behind, long forgotten. You can't think of anything else.

He slowly pulls his fingers out, shushing your whine at the loss with a chaste kiss. You sigh into his mouth, feeling the thick, stiff shape of him between your cheeks, leaking and leaving a wet mark on your skin. He doesn't rush it as he smears your arousal over his tip and strokes a few times.

You don't brace yourself against the brick wall as he pushes his cock inside you, sheathing deeper inch by inch. He holds you close, left hand grasping your wrests behind your back within the tiny space left between your bodies. He goes a bit slow at first, allowing you to get adjusted to the stretch. You feel so full like this, walls squeezing around him in a delectable grip. He's applying the right amount of pressure in every angle, his grip not too tight to cause pain and not too loose to leave you unsatisfied.

He really knows what he's doing. Everything about him turns you on.

You shudder particularly hard when he pulls halfway out and slides back in, filling you full to the brim. Then his other hand begins to roam around your side, trailing a burning path over your curves. His labored breaths and low grunts echo in your ear with each thrust. He's so large, practically in your stomach as he starts to steadily thrust in and out. Your legs tighten involuntarily when the tip of his fingers brush past the hem of your soaked panties, stomach lurching as it pushes you into a slightly different angle. He curses under his breath.

"Ease up sweetheart," He grunts, voice an octave lower than before. "You'll have me all to yourself."

You try, but it's practically impossible when he's being so good to you. It's his own fault. You should be sorry, because your hunger only worsens as you listen to him.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, little dove?" Severus questions, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises that fall past your swollen lips. He peers down at you. There's this hidden yearning between your brows, moulded into a crease as you fight the urge to thrust back into him. It's so pathetically endearing. He might reward you later for it. "What are you sorry for? Are you sorry for being this desperate or sorry that you didn't abide by my words?"

A chocked out "Both" is all you can manage.

It feels like he's splitting you in half, but at the same time his actions are so measured and empowered that you have no choice but to gush even more.

"Feels good, ahh-"

"Of course it does." He chuckles darkly, releasing his grip on your wrists. You bend ever so slightly, back arching in display and relishing in the way he twitches inside you. "Needed it to the point that you went through the worst, just to have my attention. It's pathetic."

It is pathetic. But you love nothing more than his undivided attention on you.

His wide palms find home on your hips and he begins to pound into you without any reservation, any inhibition. His pace is relentless. Your legs shake on their own accord, swaying back and forth with each merciless slap of his thighs. The familiar coil forms in the pit of your stomach again, head going dizzy as he gives it to you over and over. The room is brimming with wet squelches and mingled grunts.

"You're mine and I will let every single one of them know it. I will have them bewail their useless lives if they hurt you ever again. Just wait... wait and be patient for me. Can you do that?" He rasps, a scrap of anger returning to his voice. In your flustered state, you barely hear his demand.

His fingertips dig into your bare flesh as he takes and takes. You wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's using you like this for his own pleasure. He's neither suppressing his rage over what the Death Eaters did to you nor hiding his lust over what he himself wants to do to you.

"Pathetic baby, cannot even think straight anymore," He tuts, pace slowing and thrusts becoming heavier. "Say it. Say that you're mine. Let it sink into your stubborn mind."

"Yours, Severus... I'm all- all yours. Severus, please-"

He pulls out abruptly. Your eyes well up in an instant, feeling lost at the sudden emptiness. Severus catches you before you could mourn the loss. His fingers tangle in your hair, and he tugs, forcing you to stare into his onyx eyes. "Where do you want it?"

You've never seen Severus like this. Face flushed, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, hair untidy, and incredibly handsome. There's a dark hunger in his gaze, eyes glinting black beneath the faint moonlight that streams in through the window. It takes your breath away.

Your mouth falls open without a word, tongue sticking out in a silent invitation. You hope he grants it. You'd beg for it if he wishes to make you.

His gaze wanders lower, staying there for one or two seconds. A knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips before he releases you.

"Naughty one. On your knees."

You're scrambling to obey his order before he finishes it. Your knees come in contact with the wooden floor, hands fiddling impatiently in your lap as you blink the tears away, taking in the view of him towering above you.

He witnesses the slightest motions like this, so it doesn't go unnoticed by him when your searching gaze passes over his muscles and drifts all the way down to settle on his cock, mere inches away from your face. Your eyes widen. It's big, bigger than you had anticipated. His length is glistening with your arousal, veins prominent and red. You look back up pleadingly, the tip of your tongue darting out to lick your lower lip. It feels like you might just faint if he doesn't stuff your mouth full.

Severus saves you from misery by stroking himself a few times. Without breaking eye contact, the tip of his cock slides past your lips, disappearing in the warmth of your waiting mouth.

You sigh, swirling your tongue all around the shaft, tasting a mixture of precum and your own arousal. A lewd grunt emanates from him as you swallow around the length. His heady scent envelops you, deepening the dizzied state in your head. You want to go deeper, not caring if it might hurt your throat. If the pain comes from him, you want it.

So he allows you, the gentle brush of his thumb on your flushed cheek as his cock is buried deeper, lower, louder. He's past the point of caring if anyone hears these sounds anymore. He's more than halfway in when you reach your limit, opting to hollow your cheeks around him as he begins to move in slow thrusts.

You're being so obedient and measured. That's just the way he likes.

He pulls out with a pop and leans down, eye level with you as you catch your breath. His eyes roam over your face, taking in the wrecked sight of you. His thumb smoothes over the crease between your brows before he wipes a drop of tear off your jawline. You hadn't realized you were crying. "Look at you, silent and obedient, desperate to do what your master told you. Was that all it would take for you to listen?"

Seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them. Of course he knows he is your true master.

He stands back up, not waiting for your answer. It's written all over you. Much to your delight, he guides your head forward and you eagerly take his thrusts as he feeds his cock into your mouth, not once pushing past your limits. His breathing becomes shallow and rapid, signaling that he's on the verge of coming undone. He pounds into you once, twice, three times and then you're bracing your hands on his thighs, nails holding onto the taut muscle as your hooded eyes threaten to fall shut. You take him as deep as you can. On the fifth thrust, he stills in your mouth, a string of curses falling from his mouth. He lets out a sound you'd never heard from him before.

It's not a grunt, a groan or even a cuss. He whimpers.

Head falling back as the euphoric waves crash into him, his cock twitches inside your mouth, thick spurts painting your throat. He's a work of art, all you'd ever wished to see in a man. Your jaw is slack, eyes stinging, knees hurting. Hell, even your whole body is limp and overcome by exhaustion. But you're too entranced by him to feel anything less than content. He holds onto you, riding out his high and all you wish for is to do it again and again.

You pull back slightly to watch his expression, more satisfied than ever. One look at his blissed-out and relaxed expression has you aching and longing for him again. Somewhere between your legs, you ache for his touch again, as if he hadn't just wrecked you moments ago. But the sight of him is enough for now. You can wait for more. He loves you and it's enough.

"You're pretty, but prettier when you listen to me, do you know that?"

You nod into him and smile, not quite able to talk as his cock is still buried halfway in your mouth. His eyes rake over your body, confusion quickly replaced with a small frown. He arches a brow, not tearing his gaze from your thighs. You've pushed them together tightly... in search of some friction. Has Severus left his girl unsatisfied?

He glances over his shoulder, catching sight of the unoccupied table in the corner. For a moment he considers lifting you up into his arms and laying you there, so he could gently soothe the ache for you...

But then you're drifting off with his cock in your mouth, body going limp as exhaustion takes over you. He knows you went this far because of him, so he makes a mental note to make it up to you in the morning.

He knows how to give it to you the way you deserve it.

"Will be careful... and, and patient. For my master." You mumble sleepily, arms wrapping around his neck as he envelops you in his hold, lifting you off the floor with extra care.

Severus smiles, gently carrying you to the other room and tucking you in the bed for a much needed rest. "That's all you have to do."