#theo is the moon

[equallyloyalandlethal]

One of our fave things is this fandom and ship is to say Liam is the sunshine to Theo being moonlight, and while I'm not one for overly saccharine comparisons like that, it's too accurate to not use.

Theo is the moon because of how he changes, waxing and waning, trying to find a place, but really only being able to to be seen when he's given light to reflect. there's a side that everyone knows is there but no one can get a look at without being invited in. people are scared of him because he's different, something is off about him because he's too quiet and too loud, too hard to find and too bright all at once. he's what people can't understand but are drawn to because ultimately he's a safehaven. what could they tell him that's worse than what he's lived? he is soft and careful, cradling the secrets he's given, or a fierce protector, twisting the shadows of leafless trees into monster hands chasing innocents through the forest.

Liam is the sun, but not just because of what he gives to others or how he is the one you can always count on to be there, loyal and dependable to a damn fault. no, not for the gentleness he can show, but for the dangers he could pose. people can't look straight at who he is deep down without turning away bc it messes with how they perceive him. sunlight is supposed to be so good and gentle, but he's so angry and scared, no wonder his temper flares and lashes out at the nearest thing, unleashing the power of a raging gas ball. he brings out the best in people around him, always giving, always trying to prove that he's the softest thing around since baby bunnies, but he can't help but hurt people when they try to pay too much attention to him.

together they are balanced. one let the other step out of the shadows, truly shining for the first time while in turn the moon gives the sun a break, offering a place to rest and let go of his stranglehold on the core of himself. they push each other in a take and give, encouraging the other to grow and settle into themselves.

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER ONE series masterlist

SUMMARY II WC: 3k

When a careless spell erases her memories of Theo, he’s left grappling with the pain of being forgotten. As she returns to seeing him as just another Slytherin, Theo must navigate a world where the love they shared no longer exists—at least, not in her mind. But Theo refuses to give up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of the connection they once had.

WARNINGS: angst, fighting, not 100% canon compliant 

DEDICATION

thank you so much to @amiableness for helping me with chapter! i don’t know what i would do without you and giving me motivation to write this! i love you! 🤎

thank you to @mischievousmoony for helping my brain block i was having and helping me with ideas, you’re amazing and i love you! 🫶🏼

"Is the coast clear?" you whisper to Theo, your heart pounding in your chest. Sneaking into the Room of Requirement had always been nerve-wracking, but with the additional new rules Umbridge had enforced and the rising threat of Voldemort, it felt more dangerous than ever. Even more so because Theo was betraying his own house and friends to be here.

Theo takes another quick glance down the corridor, then nods. He reaches for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he pulls you out from your hiding spot.

You both move swiftly and silently toward the wall where the entrance to the Room of Requirement appears. You glance behind you, double-checking to make sure no one is following, before Theo tugs you inside.

Inside, the room is already alive with the sound of practicing defense spells. You and Theo head to the corner that has unofficially become your spot. Some of the others still cast wary glances at Theo, unsure if they can trust a Slytherin among them. Only the Golden Trio seems comfortable with his presence.

As you settle in, the adrenaline from sneaking around begins to subside, but your worry for Theo doesn’t. You can’t help but think about the risks he's taking—defying his father's beliefs, lying to his friends, putting himself in danger—all because he believes in making a change. You know how much he cares for them, and it breaks your heart that he's forced to choose between them and doing what’s right.

You shift closer to Theo, your hand resting lightly on his knee, a silent attempt to anchor him. He’s still tense, his eyes sweeping the room as if on constant alert. Instead of reaching for the textbook like usual, he closes it and sets it aside, surprising you.

“I think we both know enough for now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Let’s practice today instead.”

You know the purpose of these meetings is to practice spells, but the thought of doing so in front of your peers makes your stomach twist with anxiety. The fear of messing up or accidentally hurting someone lingers in your mind, making the idea of participating overwhelming.

Theo, ever attuned to your emotions, senses your hesitation. He gently pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll start simple,” he whispers reassuringly, his lips brushing against the side of your head in a tender kiss. “Just a quick Expelliarmus. You’ve got this.”

His warmth and steady presence begin to melt away your nerves, making the idea of practicing a little less daunting. With Theo by your side, you feel like you can handle whatever comes next.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his embrace, already missing the warmth. Moments like these—where you could be close to him without worrying about prying eyes—were rare. Even in the hallways, you could barely walk side by side without Umbridge or Filch barking at you to separate.

You stand, shrugging off your robe to give yourself more freedom of movement, and follow Theo to an open space.

“Alright, you know the movement, and you’ve seen it done. You’ve got this, amore,” Theo encourages, his words ringing with confidence.

Your muscles tense. If you mess up, the spell could do more than just disarm him; it could knock him out. But when Theo flashes that smile—the one that always makes your heart skip—you find yourself believing you can do it.

You take your stance, feeling the weight of the moment as Theo prepares himself, raising his wand as if ready to duel. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and shout, “Expelliarmus!” The spell shoots out from your wand, hitting its mark perfectly. Theo’s wand flies across the room, landing with a clatter as relief floods through you.

Theo’s grin widens as he claps and cheers, “I knew you could do it, tesoro!”

You watch him jog to retrieve his wand, a warmth spreading through your chest. How did you get so lucky to have him? He’s your anchor, the reason you keep pushing forward. He makes you want to be better, to reach higher.

When Theo returns, he places his hands on either side of your face, his eyes shining with pride. “See? You were amazing. Nothing to worry about,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, your lips brushing softly against his.

The kiss is slow and tender, each movement gentle as if savoring the moment. You taste the faint remnants of cigarettes and the sweetness of his breakfast. It’s a kiss that speaks of quiet reassurance, of the bond you share, strong and unwavering.

But then you remember where you are, in front of everyone. You pull back, your lips lingering just a moment longer before you peck his lips one last time, a small smile playing on your face.

“I love you, Theo,” you whisper, your foreheads touching, the world around you fading away as you both savor the closeness of the moment.

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

As you and Theo are lost in your own world, Harry is practicing a spell, the weight of the war and the responsibility of training others pressing heavily on him. The stress shows in his furrowed brow as he skims through spells in his textbook, landing on Obliviate, the charm to erase specific memories. Whatever memories Harry wants to erase is up for debate, but he doesn’t fully grasp the complexity of the spell.

With only a quick glance at the incantation, he swishes and flicks his wand, but nothing happens. Frustration builds as he tries again, more forcefully, but to no avail. Sweat slicks his palm, and with a sharp, aggressive flick, his wand slips from his grip.

Sparks fly out, ricocheting off the floor and walls. Harry tries to shout a warning, but it’s too late. The spell rebounds, hitting the back of your head and sending you flying into Theo.

Theo barely reacts in time, catching you as you collapse into his chest, limp and unresponsive. His arms instinctively wrap around you as he kneels, lowering you gently to the floor.

You look as if you’re merely asleep, but your breaths come slow and shallow. Panic seizes Theo as he brushes your hair out of your face, his voice trembling.

“Amore, come on, wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, his mind racing for what to do.

A crowd of students gathers around you both, their whispers only fueling Theo’s panic. He snaps, his voice a sharp contrast to the desperation in his heart. “Who did this?!” he demands, his eyes wild as they scan the frightened faces.

“It was me, I’m sorry, I—” Harry begins, but Theo is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close, his rage palpable.

“You’re dead, Potter!” Theo snarls, his grip tightening.

Fred and George are quick to intervene, pulling Theo off Harry, while Ron helps steady his shaken friend. “Let’s calm down, yeah?” Fred says, trying to reason with Theo. “We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll be okay.”

“She better be,” Theo threatens, his voice low and dangerous. He shrugs off the twins and returns to your side, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches your shallow breaths. When someone offers to help, he waves them off, scooping you up in his arms and pushing past everyone, his focus solely on getting you to safety.

Adrenaline courses through him, fueling his every step as he rushes through the empty corridors—thank Merlin—for six floors until he finally bursts into the hospital wing.

He wastes no time, laying you gently on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey turns to scold him, but the words die in her throat when she sees your unconscious form.

“What happened?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.

“She was fine one second, then something hit her head, and she just… collapsed,” Theo says, trying to keep his explanation as vague as possible to avoid suspicion.

“It’s okay, Theodore,” Madam Pomfrey reassures him, her voice softening. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Let me examine her. Just breathe, grab a chair, alright?”

Theo nods, though he can hardly think straight. He watches anxiously as Madam Pomfrey performs a series of diagnostic spells, her brow furrowing as each result comes back normal.

“I’m not finding anything out of the ordinary, Nott,” she finally says, puzzled. “She seems perfectly fine, just asleep.”

But Theo isn’t looking at her. He’s holding your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he wills you to wake up.

“We’ll wait until she comes around, okay? I’ll let you stay with her overnight to keep an eye on things,” Madam Pomfrey says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder before drawing a partition around your bed to give you both some privacy.

As soon as she’s gone, Theo chokes back a sob, his worst fears clawing at him. He knows something is wrong—no one just falls unconscious like that from a spell. He pulls the thin blanket up to cover you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple.

“I love you too, amore. You’re gonna be okay, alright?” he whispers, his voice cracking as he desperately hopes for a response, his heart aching in the silence.

———

Theo stirred awake as he felt a sudden movement beneath him. His eyes opened groggily, his head lifting from where it had been resting on your stomach, his arm still wrapped around your waist. The scratchy hospital wing blanket was a far cry from the soft one you were used to, but Theo had barely noticed, too consumed by worry to care about his own discomfort.

As you rubbed your eyes harshly, Theo blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his own, running a hand through his tousled hair. He sat up straighter, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, when he heard your voice—sharp, confused.

“Nott? What are you doing here? And why am I in the hospital wing?”

Theo’s heart dropped. The way you said his name—Nott, not Theo, not love—sent a chill through him. He tensed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Tesoro, you were hit in the head, remember?” He reached out for your hand, desperate to offer some comfort, but you jerked it away before he could touch you.

“This isn’t funny, Nott! What prank are you and your friends pulling now?” Your glare was like a knife to his chest, cutting deep. Theo’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm even as panic clawed at him. The way you looked at him, the suspicion and anger in your eyes, made everything clear that something was terribly wrong.

“Please, just listen to me—” he started, but the words felt hollow. His worst fears were playing out right in front of him, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Theo jumped to his feet and rushed toward Madam Pomfrey, who was just arriving at the entrance to the hospital wing.

“She’s awake, but she’s acting like she doesn’t know me—please, you have to help,” Theo pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. He wasn’t one to beg, not unless it was to you, but now the words spilled out uncontrollably, fear gripping his heart.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, quickly following him back to your bedside. You were sitting up, fiddling with your hands, a deep scowl etched on your face. Theo’s stomach churned at the sight—he knew that scowl too well, but it had been a long time since it had been directed at him.

“Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her voice warm and calm as she began to check your vitals.

You shrugged, casting a wary glance at Theo, who hovered behind the nurse, his heart pounding in his chest. “I feel okay, just confused about how I ended up here.”

“Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability, alright?”

You nodded, and Madam Pomfrey proceeded with the standard questions—what year it was, who the Minister of Magic was, what you did yesterday. You answered each one correctly, with ease, but Theo’s dread only deepened with every word. Everything you said lined up, except for one glaring omission—there was no mention of him. Not in any of it.

Madam Pomfrey paused, her gaze flicking to Theo before she asked the question that made his blood run cold. “Do you know him?” she asked, pointing to Theo.

You rolled your eyes and huffed, your irritation clear. “Yeah, he’s Theodore Nott, Slytherin. Which I’m still confused about—why is he here?”

Theo felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. The way you looked at him, the casual indifference in your voice, transported him back to a time before everything had changed—before you had opened your heart to him. It was as if the last year and a half had been erased, and the weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but the familiar coldness in your eyes made it nearly impossible to breathe.

Theo felt his world collapse around him. He couldn’t stay in that room, couldn’t bear to see you look at him like he was a stranger. As Madam Pomfrey explained to you that you’d been hit in the head and Theo had brought you in, he bolted from the hospital wing, stumbling into the hallway. He leaned against a cold stone column, clutching his chest as panic set in. His heart raced uncontrollably, his breaths shallow and ragged. It was another panic attack, but this time, you weren’t there to help him through it. You didn’t even remember him. All those memories—the ones he cherished most—were gone. And it was all because of Potter.

His vision tunneled, everything blurring except for one thought: Harry had done this. He was the reason Theo’s entire world had been ripped away. And Harry was going to pay.

Theo knew exactly where to find him. He’d memorized Harry’s schedule down to the minute, having spent so much time with you before breakfast as you walked with Hermione and Harry. If he timed it right, he’d catch Harry just before he entered the Great Hall.

As Theo rounded the corner, he spotted the trio ahead. They noticed him too, and he saw the tension rise in their shoulders. But Theo was too far gone to care about what they thought. All he saw was Harry—the cause of all this pain.

Without hesitation, Theo marched straight up to them. His usual calm, calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by a storm of raw, unfiltered anger. He shoved Harry hard, sending him stumbling back, barely managing to stay on his feet.

“Nott, let’s talk about this,” Harry started, his voice laced with caution.

“What was the spell, Potter?” Theo demanded, his voice rough with barely contained fury.

“It was an accident!” Harry insisted, his eyes wide with desperation. “It was Obliviate. I swear, I didn’t mean to hit her!”

Theo’s hand shot out, grabbing Harry by his robe, pulling him close enough to feel the heat of his breath. A twisted smile played on Theo’s lips as he tightened his grip. “Oh, but I’m going to mean to hit you.”

He drew back his fist, ready to make Harry pay for everything he’d taken from him. But just as he was about to strike, your voice cut through the chaos, stopping him cold.

“Nott, what the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, rushing toward them, your eyes flashing with anger.

Harry immediately tried to shield you from the truth. “Trouble, it’s fine, really—”

“No, it’s not fine!” you interrupted, glaring at Theo as you pushed him away from Harry. “I’m sick of Slytherins picking on you-us for no reason!”

Theo felt his heart shatter as he watched you fix Harry’s robe, your attention entirely on his supposed enemy. You had no idea what Harry had done, what he had stolen from both of you.

When you finally turned back to Theo, the disgust in your eyes was a knife to his heart. “You’re pathetic, Nott, and you’ll never change,” you spat, the venom in your words leaving him reeling.

The surrounding students watched in stunned silence, the full weight of what had just happened sinking in. They now understood why Theo had been so close to breaking Harry’s face.

As you turned your back on him and walked away with your friends, Theo stood there, frozen. The disappointment in your eyes, the harshness of your words—it was too much. He felt like he might collapse under the weight of it all. But instead, he just stood there, watching you disappear into the Great Hall, his world crumbling around him.

Your words echoed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep from breaking apart. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all he could do was stand there, helpless and shattered.

The hallway, once filled with tension, was now eerily silent, the students having scattered. Theo was left alone in the aftermath, cold and hollow, the life drained out of him in those few, terrible moments. You had been his anchor, his reason to believe in something beyond the darkness that had always surrounded him. And now you were gone, ripped away by a single, careless spell.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he finally moved, it was like a switch had flipped inside him. He couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t lose you. There had to be a way to fix this, to bring you back to him. And if he had to tear the world apart to do it, he would.

first divider @saradika-graphics

[afraidparade]

pazu's mistake, the one that nearly got him exorcised, and the tinder of his burning grudge

sorry for starving y'all for a while then dropping this out of nowhere lol, this anon has been in my inbox for months and i've wanted to do this comic since then but just haven't had time ;_; hope you don't mind that it's sorta stylized, i wanted to channel some of the same energy of the first lam comic lolol

[gxdsfavgal]

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last updated: May 13, 2024

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[mattodore]

saw this post that reminded me of matthias and had this edit lying around…

[cakiebakie]

i may or may not have posted these already but heres a bunch of dragon age ocs

[lloydfrontera]

in a better timeline where theo is actually a character and not just a plot device he and rakiel develop this weird and confusing dynamic where rakiel is still very clearly theo's older brother except for those moments where his inner ahjussi comes out and he parents theo more than his father ever did and he slowly starts taking asterion's place as theo's father figure.

neither of them really notice because 1) lee han was an only child and he's not really that aware of what is or isn't normal sibling behavior and he doesn't really care either he just sees theo craving approval and being lowkey passively suicidal and goes "is anyone gonna take care of that" and then doesn't wait for an answer before doing it himself and 2) because theo has been neglected his entire life and doesn't recognize what rakiel is doing as 'parenting' because, well, asterion never did that with him so his first experience with that kind of care and treatment is from rakiel so he automatically files it as 'hyung behavior'. so none of them actually realize when their dynamic blurs the line between siblings and parent-child.

but asterion does. just... way too late. when he's already lost his chance with not one, but both of his children. when one son is forever out of his reach and the other has filled what should've been his place with someone else. only then does he realize what his neglect and putting his title as emperor above that of father has cost him. when there's nothing he can do about it.

he wanted his sons to grow up without needing him. and they did. they don't need him anymore. and he didn't realize how terrible of a thing that was until it was far too late to fix it.

[codecicle]

" my chest hurts rn" -guy whos recovering from top surgery

yeah alright wise guy. post the suckening characters seconds away from undergoing a transgender operation

[theking-mustdie]

theo x liam where theo is the moon and liam is the sun where they’ll always be a glimpse away from one another but never truly feel the touch of their lover because the sun isn’t supposed to be seen in tandem with the moon

[elderwisp]

christmas party at the pub

☆ happy holidays everyone <3

[theorist-fox]

Holy shit, that lingerie story!

Reading it, you really get a feel for the coarseness of Ghost in contrast to the divinity of his person, which lends itself to be read almost from Ghost’s POV, which is always a treat!

The way he went for it exactly the way he wished - with no thought to performance - was delicious and fucking convincing! Even Reader had a sense that this was something private to him, and tried not to interrupt - LOVE THAT.

Just Ghosf getting treated. Getting considered. Getting humanized. We love to see it.

I love to imagine him as the most confident lieutenant on the field, but as soon as he sheds the uniform he's out of his comfort zone. He deserves a partner who knows it and gives him the space he needs to express himself.

I love you Void this made me so giddy!!!!

[moonpascal]

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024

[afraidparade]

pazu vanity (heavily referenced the original MV)

[asoiafandotherbooks]

TWOIAF/Fire & Blood: The Black Brides

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

It is 47 AC and Maegor still does not have a son. No one thought it likely Tyanna would give him an heir. Tyanna continued to serve as Mistress of Whispers but Maegor no longer sought her bed. What to do? More wives of course! But who? The members of the Small Council named their candidates:

Grand Maester Bennifer (Maegor’s 4th Grand Maester) suggested Clarisse Dayne, the Lady of Starfall, in order to detach her lands and house from Dorne

Alton Butterwell, the Master of Coin, offered his widowed sister, a stout woman with seven children. Alton stated she was no beauty but her fertility had been proven beyond a doubt.

Lord Celtigar had two young maiden daughters, twelve and thirteen years old. He urged the king to pick one or both.

Lord Velaryon urged Maegor to wed Rhaena, his niece and the widow of Aegon the Uncrowned, thus uniting the two claims, and acquire a hostage against any plots

Let’s go over the suggestions:

Clarisse Dayne was never going to happen. The wars against Dorne were too fresh in the Dornish minds. It would have been fun if the offer was sent and Clarisse sent a “if I only had two heads response” that Henry VIII received to one of his proposals. Of course, the taunting wouldn’t have been wise since the rejected suitor has Balerion.

Alton Butterwell’s sister was rejected on grounds of unattractiveness. Was she Maegor’s Anne of Cleves?

The suggestion of Rhaena was the most logical. If Maegor was less Maegor. However, Rhaena hates Maegor and with good reason.

As for Lord Celtigar’s maiden daughters…on the surface this tactic is like show-Otto Hightower pushing Alicent as a bridal candidate to Viserys Targaryen. Otto receives massive hatred from the fanbase for pushing Alicent into the marriage. I feel the hatred for Otto is overstated. The constant use of women as cattle in the Game of Thrones is disgusting but is Otto any different from Tywin Lannister, Hoster Tully, or even Rikard Stark? They all used their daughters to further their own ambitions, regardless of their daughters’ personal desires. That said, the hatred the fandom has for Otto is the hatred I have for Celtigar. Viserys, for all his numerous faults, was never a physical danger to Alicent, not including the dangers of pregnancy and childbirth. Maegor has proven he is an erratic, violent, temperamental tyrant. The fate of Alys Harroway should have kept any loving father from pushing his daughter as a marriage candidate. The only one proven to reign in Maegor was Visenya. How are a twelve- and thirteen-year-old expected to handle him?

Maegor listened to the arguments, took bits and pieces from the input, and decided: three wives should do the trick.

Maegor worried over the threat Alyssa Velaryon and her remaining children posed to his reign. He had been unable to find Alyssa and her two youngest. Rumors abounded that the family had fled across the Narrow Sea, to Tyrosh or Volantis.

He knew the location of Rhaena. She was in Fair Isle. Aerea, the eldest of Rhaena and Aegon the Uncrowned’s twins, was the logical heir of Maegor. The twins were barely a year old and Rhaena knew that pressing their claims would be a death sentence. Rhaena had died their hair, changed their names, and sent them from her, entrusting them to powerful allies, “who would see them fostered in good homes by worthy men who would have no inkling of their true identities”. Rhaena herself didn’t know their locations – she couldn’t reveal what she didn’t know, even under torture.

Rhaena made no attempt to disguise herself because she would never be able to hide Dreamfyre, her dragon. It’s noted that Dreamfyre had produced two clutches of eggs by this time.

Maegor summoned Rhaena to King’s Landing. She went. Rhaena had “grown fond of Lord Farman, and more than fond of his second son, Androw”. Not mentioned is Rhaena’s fondness for Elissa. Rhaena would not repay the Farmans’ kindness by causing Balerion to be unleashed on Fair Isle.

Rhaena arrived at King’s Landing and learned she was to marry Maegor. She also met her fellow soon to be brides: Lady Jeyne of House Westerling and Lady Elinor of House Costayne.

Lady Jeyne had been married to Alyn Tarbeck, who had died with Prince Aegon at the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. She had given birth to a son a few months later. Tall and slender, with lustrous brown hair, Jeyne was being courted by a younger son of Lord Lyman Lannister when Maegor sent for her.

Lady Elinor had been the wife of Ser Theo Bolling, a landed knight who had fought for Maegor in his last campaign against the Poor Fellows. She had given birth to three sons by the time she was nineteen. The youngest boy was still at her breast when Maegor had Ser Theo arrested and charged with “conspiring with Queen Alyssa to murder the king and place the boy Jaehaerys on the Iron Throne. Theo was found guilty and beheaded the same day of his arrest. Maegor gave Elinor seven days to mourn before she had to marry him. How generous!

We are offered no insight on the women’s feelings on their upcoming marriage or of their relationship with their deceased spouses. Rhaena is the exception as we were told earlier in the book of her close bond with her sibling-spouse. Its clear she despises Maegor but is determined to keep her daughters safe.

Jeyne and Elinor’s first marriages were most likely arranged as they were members of the nobility. Did they love their husbands? Dislike them? Neutral? Was Jeyne fond of the younger Lannister son who was courting her? Or was she resigned to a remarriage as the Lannisters were the ruling House of the Westerlands?

And Elinor…her husband, and the father of her children, was falsely accused and executed by the man she is now forced to wed! I can only imagine the seething anger she must have felt but being forced to play the “Sansa” role to save her children’s lives.

Septon Moon, the “High Septon” of the Poor Fellows denounced Maegor’s wedding plans but everyone else stayed quiet and kept their heads down.

On a warm spring day in 47 AC, Maegor wed his three “Black Brides” as the people of King’s Landing referred to the women. The brides were garbed and cloaked in the colors of her father’s house. The Rise of the Dragons book has a gorgeous picture of the Black Brides. Those dresses were magnificent.

The presence of Jeyne and Elinor’s children ensured they played their parts in the ceremony. Any defiance from Rhaena was squashed when Tyanna led her twin daughters to the ceremony.

The stories of the wedding night are queer and contradictory:

Did the Black Brides share a single bed?

Did Maegor consummate each marriage that night in individual beds?

Did Rhaena attempt to kill Maegor with a concealed dagger as she later claimed?

Did Elinor scratch Maegor’s back to bloody ribbons?

Did Jeyne Westerling drink a fertility potion that Queen Tyanna brought her or throw it into her face?

The maester admits he doesn’t know the truth of any of these stories. He does note the fertility potion account doesn’t appear until well into the reign of Jaehaerys, twenty years after the death of both women.

Let’s discuss the rumors. The details of the bedding..this wasn’t an Alys-Maegor-Tyanna situation so I doubt there was a group bedding. These women hated Maegor. It was a chore to accomplish not an anticipated moment. Of note is Tyanna’s lack of involvement in the bedding. She and Maegor were clearly on the outs.

We can safely say Rhaena did not attempt to kill Maegor despite her claims. The risk to her daughters was too great if she failed.

If Elinor scratched Maegor’s back to “bloody ribbons”, it wasn’t from passion, it was from hate.

Jeyne’s fertility potion…doubtful. The story probably started after Tyanna’s claims of poisoning Jeyne and Elinor.

In the aftermath of the wedding, Maegor declared Aerea as his heir until he had a son of his own and sent Rhaella to Oldtown to be raised as a septa. He disinherited Jaehaerys, “the rightful heir by all the laws of the Seven Kingdoms.”

What law exactly? The concept of the “Seven Kingdoms” only happened when Aegon I conquered Westeros. And I don’t recall Aegon I creating a “no girls on the Iron Throne” rule.  And, yes, before its brought up, Aegon was the king despite Visenya being the oldest but he clearly saw his sisters/spouses as his equals. Rhaenys and Visenya didn’t “advise”, they sat the Iron Throne! Visenya was the true backbone of the first three Targaryen reigns!

This “rightful heir by the laws” nonsense smacks of Jaehaerys ordering the maesters to spread to justify his usurpation of the throne from Aerea. And yes, Jaehaerys stole the throne. If Aegon the Uncrowned was a king (and Alyssa Velaryon did crown him), Aerea is the heir. If Maegor is the rightful king, Aerea is his declared heir. You’ll notice that Jaehaerys doesn’t have his brother, Aegon the Uncrowned, declared as a lawful king. Why? Because it makes his usurpation of Aerea’s throne more obvious.

Jeyne’s son was confirmed as Lord of Tarbeck Hall and sent to be raised as a ward of Lyman Lannister. Elinor’s two eldest were sent to the Eyrie and Highgarden. Her youngest was turned over to a wetnurse as Maegor found her breastfeeding “irksome”. I’m sure the fact that its harder, but not impossible, to become pregnant while breastfeeding was also an aspect in the decision. Or Maegor could simply be an ass.

Up next, two queens announce their pregnancy and two queens die.

[yoinkschief]

Draw Tom pregnant

- you get to guess who I am, hint: ☹️🌘

I'm gonna be honest

It is SO hard to guess who you are I know like 10 different people who would want me to draw Tom pregnant unironically and ironically

Anyway $150, I take CashApp, PayPal and Venmo hit me up🤙

[not-rab]

keeping up with the hoes 💫 (part 1)

oh i feel so bad:

@definitelynotttheo @ringaroundtherosier @iheartmoons @(the other people that idk the users of 🫣🫣)