#true blood godric imagine

[chloe-skywalker]

True Blood Masterlist

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Main Masterlist

By @chloe-skywalker

*= Requested

Eric Northman:

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Godric:

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[lovemurphythe100]

Imagine having a three some with Godric and Eric

[bisexualmultifandommess]

Since I’m in love with Godric and Sookie is my favourite character I love to imagine concepts in AUs or canon for fics that include them both. I don’t care about canon when it comes to fics lmao I just write whatever and make it fit.

Imagine this AU where when she was a young woman around Sookie’s age Adele is out at night and is attacked but is rescued by none other than Godric. She’s made aware of him being a vampire and promises to keep it a secret because she’s grateful. They talk and meet up a few times because they enjoy each others company and become best friends but eventually Adele has to go home and Godric has to leave.

The two maybe continue to accidentally meet at random points in their lives. For example when Adele is a little older and first married and when she’s had her children and they’re very young.

So years later when he runs into that basement to save the girl being attacked at first he sees a young Adele Stackhouse until Sookie obviously introduces herself as Sookie and he starts to see the differences.

He’s obviously devastated that she’s dead and he never got to see her one last time but he enjoys talking to Sookie and Jason about her.

[seriousbrat]

How do you think others perceived Lily and James' relationship once they started dating?

Many people seem to believe the main obstacle was that Lily hated James, but both the author and other characters clarify that this wasn’t true. It’s more likely that she found him too immature at first, but not that she actually hated him.

What I like to focus on, however, is the idea that the real challenge in their relationship may have been tied to blood status and the societal pressure that came with it. I can see how some people who weren’t purists themselves might still harbor biases against Muggle-borns, leading them to distance themselves from them in an attempt to evade the attention of real purists. People might see it as foolish for these two to be together. Others, especially those who had crushes on James, might wonder why he would choose a Muggle-born when he could easily be with someone who is half-blood or pure-blood. The most extreme ones would gossip and say hurtful things that no teenage couple would want to hear.

It’s been mentioned multiple times that Harry, at his core, takes after Lily. We see how he broke up with Ginny to protect her, so I can imagine that, while Lily may not have wanted to break up with James in the same way, she might have been hesitant to enter relationships. During the time they lived in, being friends with a Muggle-born is one thing, but dating one is another.

There isn’t much information about the Potter family, but James’ black-and-white woldview likely came from them. To him, you’re either opposed to blood purity, or you’re on the wrong side. The Potters have a long history of being open toward Muggles, and there’s some great meta on Tumblr that explores James’ grandfather, Henry, and his support for Muggles during World War I. The theory suggests that if Henry lived in Godric’s Hollow, surrounded by Muggles, he might have formed friendships with them and watched as generations of men he knew were lost to the war. This could explain his disappointment with the Wizengamot’s ignorance to Muggle suffering. That frustration may have carried over to his son Fleamont, who later passed it on to James. Therefore, I think that James's parents were more familiar with Muggles than Weasleys, and that's why they had no problems with Lily

Another thing to consider is that Lily and James were asked to join Voldemort when they came of age, which in wizarding society is 17. This would place them in the latter part of their sixth year at Hogwarts. While it’s harder to pinpoint exactly when Lily was approached (and even more puzzling as to why Voldemort would recruit her), we know from the prequel, set in 1977, that James and Sirius were already being pursued by Death Eaters at that time.

On a subconscious level, James likely felt a sense of security in his status, which would have been completely shattered by the attempt to recruit him, especially since Voldemort had a habit of killing those who refused him. Moreover, it would be a harsh blow for him to realize that the Death Eaters even thought someone like him could be persuaded to join them.

the real challenge in their relationship may have been tied to blood status and the societal pressure that came with it.

I mean, I think this was something that was definitely operating on some level in their relationship, as well as class-- the Potters were very wealthy, while Lily was from a working-class Muggle family. I think these two things caused some difference between them and possibly some friction or argument, but I don't think it was a HUGE challenge in their relationship, exactly.

I had another anon mention recently that they thought Lily would have been very careful around dating purebloods because of her Muggle-born status (and I didn't address it because my reply was long enough lol) but I don't see this as particularly true, honestly. Not for how I see Lily's character-- generally trusting, determined to see the good in others-- but also not for the way I think the general culture at Hogwarts is in canon, even during the first war.

Similarly, I sometimes find it a bit exaggerated in fics when everyone at Hogwarts, including Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, openly despises and shuns Lily for being Muggleborn and goes around insulting her. Not only do we know she was popular at school, personally I think that's also a bit of an oversimplification of what we see in canon. That's not to say bigotry didn't exist among non-Slytherins; I'm going to try and explain this as well as I can because I think it's quite complex, and also quite complex to portray.

The way bigotry against Muggle-borns functions in mainstream wizarding society appears to be in general quite subtle, largely rooted in apathy and a sort of seemingly "benign prejudice," the "Cornelius Fudge Mindset," if you will. Unless you're in a very particular pureblood supremacist context, it's not socially acceptable to openly call someone a Mudblood, as we see in the Gryffindor team's reactions to Malfoy using the slur in CoS. Your average Hufflepuff is likely not going to be actively hostile towards Muggle-borns-- remember that those three houses include and have always included plenty of Muggle-born students.

Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott, both purebloods, are very fierce in their defence of Justin Finch-Fletchley in CoS. In OotP we learn that Ernie's family, who definitely lived through the first war, has similar views to his, which is where he probably learnt them. I think simply growing up in a house alongside Muggle-born kids helps with this immensely.

Open bigotry has festered so acutely in Slytherin because Muggle-borns are NOT allowed to be sorted into the house (ik people differ on this but I understood it as the Hat physically cannot sort them into Slytherin by design.) Any half-bloods like Snape probably learn quickly to downplay their Muggle side.

As I said, though, bigotry still exists, even among non-Slytherin purebloods, and the subtle nature of it doesn't make things any less difficult for Muggle-borns. I brought this up in my fic when a pureblood girl on the Gryffindor team, who has a crush on James, can't understand why he'd date Lily because 'they don't have anything in common.' But James has to drag this confession out of her, and she's (rightly) very, very ashamed of herself immediately upon expressing it in public. And this sort of prejudice can be much harder to see and combat, because it usually goes unspoken. It exists, though, and it's the reason why anti-muggleborn propaganda was accepted so easily in DH. (though per Arthur, not by everyone- most are just too scared to do anything about it.)

Many purebloods might assume that Muggle-borns are less talented at magic like Slughorn does, but I think most normal people wouldn't generally say this to a Muggle-born's face, and on some level they'd recognise that this belief is shameful (as Slughorn appears to do: "You mustn't think me prejudiced!") Even if they believe it, it would simply be impolite. These people wouldn't consider themselves bigoted, they might even have Muggle-born friends and colleagues. But ultimately they wouldn't do anything to actively address the struggles that Muggle-borns face (especially out of fear during the war,) nor would they stop to question the world around them. They might not question, for example, why Muggle-borns are passed over for job opportunities, because it works in their favour.

After the Ministry coup in DH, Voldemort puts a great deal of effort into a propaganda campaign against Muggle-borns, but this hadn't been done previously, at least not on that level. As I said, he's able to take advantage of existing "mild" prejudice very easily, which is precisely what makes it dangerous. But even during the first war, I don't think Voldemort's or the Blacks' view on Muggle-borns was supposed to have been the mainstream-- not at Hogwarts under Dumbledore, and not wholly at the Ministry either-- and I think expressing such views publicly would be generally considered impolite. Outside of Slytherins, I don't get the feeling that admitting that you think Muggle-borns and purebloods shouldn't date would be very socially acceptable at Hogwarts, even if it's what you secretly believe. Now, obviously Slytherins would be saying this, but at the point that James and Lily got together, they're not setting much store by what any Slytherins think.

James is VERY openly pro-Muggleborn, as is his family, as is everyone he surrounds himself with. He and Lily were both popular, they were Head Boy and Girl, so largely due to social pressure (also knowing how strongly James and Sirius feel on the subject and how jinx-happy they are) I'm not sure that many Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, or Ravenclaws would really dare comment, especially not to their faces.

All this being said, I can imagine certain people, maybe even acquaintances of the Potters, thinking that Lily's 'taking advantage' of James for his wealth and the safety of his pureblood status, especially as she probably wasn't working while in the Order. I will actually deal with this in my fic too, though it appears to have more to do with class than blood status. Of course, we can't forget that those things are in many ways intertwined in the wizarding world, so there is an underlying bigotry there even if it's not intentional. I can definitely see Lily struggling with this a bit, especially because James would be more than willing to support her financially and buy her things, which might make her uncomfortable. And James not really understanding this (because he wants to make her happy and has never struggled with money himself) might be a bit of an issue, but one they can overcome I'm sure.

I know this reply is already incredibly long, but I wanted to say that, like you, the fact of Voldemort trying to recruit Lily has always puzzled me. I've dealt with it in a way that makes sense, I think. Perhaps if Voldemort really wanted James onside he'd realise that James wouldn't join without Lily, so he made a concession, especially since Lily is also a capable witch herself. I've no doubt it would have bothered James to be asked, but his immediate reaction was probably to loudly, clearly, and angrily refuse, and to spit in Voldy's face basically. I had a lot of fun writing that scene actually heehee

[padfootagain]

Come Back to Me

Hello guys! Here is a request I’ve received for Sirius by an anon:’ can you do a Sirius x reader where the reader goes to visit him in Azkaban after what happened with the potters? Thank you!!’

Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written! It’s very angsty, as you can imagine…

I’ve loved working on this, much more than I thought I would tbh! I’m seriously hesitating to turn this into a series, so tell me if you want this story to continue! (I might do some polls tomorrow too… let’s see!).

I hope you like it! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, very very angsty… cried my hearts out while writing this. Cheers.

Summary: Sirius has been arrested after the attack at Godric’s Hollow and the murder of Peter Pettigrew. He’s been sentenced to spend his life in a cell, and you have a chance to see him one last time at Azkaban.

Word count: 4070

It was raining outside.

Heavy rain falling from grey clouds. Tapping against window panes and rooftops. Heavy as it fell, it was loud and irregular, sometimes more violent because of the wind. Howling, almost…

It was a sad weather, and in the dying afternoon, it made darkness conquer the light of the sun even faster than night normally would. It fitted your evening, you reckoned. It fitted your life, really…

Funny how one evening could break your entire being. One minute you had your best friends by your side, a home, a man you loved, and the next… the next everything was gone…

One evening. The attack that night didn’t last more than a few minutes, reports said. A handful of seconds, and everything was gone. You had lost your best friends and then… a few hours later, Sirius was arrested. Rumours spread fast, and Dumbledore confirmed them all: he was accused of betraying the Potters, of killing Peter, of breaking everything and everyone around him.

You weren’t allowed to see Sirius during his trial. People said he had gone mad, and the few pictures you had seen of him seemed to show him this way, that was true.

But this man you had loved so deeply, you had trusted so fully, so blindly… how could he do all this?

Betraying the Potters? James was his brother. Harry was like a son to him. And killing Peter in cold-blood murder? No… no nothing made sense…

You knew there was a traitor in the Order, suspicion had been growing for months, but to imagine Sirius as the culprit was unfathomable. He was loyal to a fault. If there was one Gryffindor quality that he embodied, it was this one. No, you couldn’t imagine Sirius doing any of it…

And yet there you were, in Azkaban, on this god-forsaken rock in the middle of the ocean, batted by rain and waves, beaten up by the angry sky and the hungry sea alike, as if all the elements combined their forces in an attempt to drown it all…

Through the old window, you could see Dementors passing by, floating out there in mid-air, their shadowy figures unbothered, it would seem, by the heavy rain and the biting cold. But then again… they were the ones, devouring all warmth until none remained.

You were waiting to see Sirius. For all you knew, it could be the last time you would see him. It wasn’t common to visit a prisoner here, especially when he was sentenced to such a heavy punishment.

Remus had refused to come. He didn’t want to see Sirius. You weren’t certain whether or not he believed it all to be true, but you knew he was scared. You reckoned he was a little like you, about all this: hanging on by a thread, holding onto the last feeble hope that maybe, just maybe, everybody was wrong and he was innocent. But then again, seeing him, talking to him after all this… it could break you in more ways than one.

Seeing him in this hell… it would take all your strength to bear the sight. And what if… what if you were wrong? What if the rest of the world was right? What if he was guilty?

Remus didn’t come. He couldn’t take the risk to be certain. Whether or not Sirius was innocent, it would be too much to take. If he was guilty, it meant that he had betrayed all of you. If he was innocent, it meant that his life would be wasted over nothing. And then… where could the murderer be? Who could it be?

There was a crack running across the windowpane, it let a little bit of rain come inside. A wet line slipping down the wall, making a small puddle form on the stony ground. It was cold, even inside the prison… you remembered how warm it felt to sleep under the covers with Sirius by your side. He always grew cold during night. He claimed that it was the reason why he kept on holding onto you, even during his sleep, but you knew better… or at least, you thought that you did…

You jumped when a jailer opened the door. You had been waiting in a small room, but you were to be guided to Sirius’s cell directly to see him. They had pretexted that he was too dangerous to be taken outside his cell for you to meet in another room. You reckoned that they were simply too cruel.

Anyway, you followed the jailer across the dirty and dark corridor of the prison. Sirius’s cell was on the inner part of the building, close to the small courtyard that sit at the centre of the island. It wasn’t much of a sight to see, but you hoped that it meant for Sirius to have a small window in his cell…

The jailer was a rather young wizard. Blond hair, pale skin, pale eyes. As if he had lived in the shadows for too long, without seeing the sun. But then again, if he worked here, it was probably the case…

You expected cells closed with bars of steel, and you did cross several corridors filled with this type of small prison cells. But Sirius was considered particularly dangerous, apparently. That was what the guard explained to you as he guided you through the labyrinth of corridors and doors leading to the more secured part of the building. Sirius was not detained in the most secured cells, but in an intermediate security level, which included closed cells and a dementor constantly roaming the corridor. When you passed next to one of the creatures, you reached for your wand, out of reflex, before remembering that you had left it at the entrance of the prison. You were unarmed.

Finally, you stopped in front of an iron door plagued with brown stains of rust. Everything seemed wet and moulded. It smelled of something rotten. You could see spots of water on the ground down the corridor, frozen because of the dementor that had just hovered over that spot…

There were about a dozen of doors like Sirius’s on each side of the corridor. Torches lit up the hallway, but it was still cold and dark inside. You heard the rumbling noise of thunder shaking the ground and the air alike, but you saw no lightning. There were no windows there. Only the feeble light of waning torches, and the silhouette of the dementor floating away.

“You have ten minutes,” the guard said, opening a small hatch in the door.

The opening was about the size of your closed fist, right at the level of your eyes. It was merely meant to look inside. There was another similar hatch below, that you guessed was meant to pass over food to the prisoners.

“You said I could see him in his cell,” you protested, expecting to go inside.

But the jailer shook his head.

“He’s too dangerous for that. Do you want to die?”

“He would never hurt me.”

“Say that to the friends he got killed.”

He huffed, disdainful, and it hurt more than you expected to, to hear him say something like that…

It was clear that you wouldn’t have anything more than a glimpse in his cell. It was better than nothing, you stopped complaining.

The guard banged on the door, making you jump at the loud noise.

“Black! You scum! Wake up!”

You were so mad to hear him shout at Sirius like this… but in this place, with all the emotions that were bubbling in your chest at the idea of seeing him again, with all this fear eating at you… you couldn’t fight back against this guard. You couldn’t defend Sirius. You could only shake, in this cold corridor. You could only shudder, and blink your tears away.

“Hey! I told you to wake up! There’s someone here for you! BLACK!”

You peered inside over the guard’s shoulder, and more tears gathered at the corner of your eyes, some that you couldn’t simply blink away.

The cell was tiny, a bed and some disgusting toilets could barely fit in there. There was a window in the wall opposite the door, if one could call such a small aperture a window. There was no windowpane, only three bars that almost completely blocked the little bit of light that could have come inside. The rain, pushed by the wind, was falling inside and forming a puddle near the wall. Sirius was lying on the bed, barely more than a mattress, wrapped in a blanket pierced with holes. It was more of a rag than anything else.

You felt tears starting to roll down your cheeks. This was too hard… Remus had been right, you shouldn’t have come at all…

You pushed the guard away, but he didn’t protest, and walked away. He sat down in an old wooden chair set down the corridor, near the door.

You took a deep breath, trying to summon your voice and your courage alike. All you could muster was a shaky whisper all the same.

“Sirius…”

You saw him tensing. You waited for him, but he didn’t move, so you called for him again. Only his name, spoken in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Nothing more.

At last, he moved. Slowly. Barely noticeable at first, but then he turned his head towards the door and stared at this ridiculously small opening. He could see your eyes… you… but you couldn’t be here…

“Y/N?” he called, his voice hoarse, a croak more than a word.

But he saw you nodding, wiping your tears away with your sleeve, before holding onto the edge of the hatch with both your hands, trying to get as close to him as you could.

“Sirius!”

“You… you’re not real”, he breathed, shaking his head. “They’re… they’re playing with my head again…”

You guessed that he meant the Dementors. You shook your head.

“Sirius, please… I’m really here. I don’t have much time. I’m here, my love. It’s really me. I’m here…”

His eyes grew round, but he slowly sat up, then stood, movements slow and cautious, as if he was expecting some kind of deception, some kind of trap. But he walked to the door anyway, blinked a few times, and you were still there.

He had been in this cell for six months now; only six months and you already noticed the toll his stay in Azkaban had on him.

He was thinner than you remembered. Cheeks hallowed, paler skin, darker bags under his eyes. He seemed exhausted. His hair was dishevelled, longer than the last time you had seen him. And his beard was much longer as well. You guessed he didn’t have anything to shave. Some of his tattoos were peering above the collar of his shirt, his clothes dirty and already filled with small holes. He was barefoot, you noticed.

He reached out towards your hand, your fingers holding tightly on the edge of the hatch. You could fit your hand inside the cell but not your arm. You reached for him too, until your fingers touched his. His mouth fell open, tears appeared in his eyes, before he closed his hand onto yours, holding tight, a little too tight actually, it was almost painful but you didn’t mind.

His bottom lip trembled as tears started to run down his face.

“You’re really here?” he asked, fragile and broken, and it shattered your already-broken heart.

You nodded, it was all that you had the strength to do, your throat was too tight by then. Sirius was shaken by a sob, before he pressed his lips to your fingers, and palm and every inch of your skin he could reach.

“Love… My love…” he kept on repeating, as you both let yourselves cry, staring at each other.

The door didn’t allow you to kiss, you tried to press your face against the hatch, but you couldn’t reach his lips. He closed his eyes tightly, and banged his head against the door several times…

“Sirius? Stop it, darling, you’ll hurt yourself. Please, please stop…”

He complied, but kept his forehead pressed against the cool surface, staring at you again.

“How did you get here?”

“Albus,” you simply answered, and it seemed enough of an explanation, as Sirius nodded.

He started shaking his head vehemently all of a sudden, fear now visible on every inch of his face, drowning his eyes. He tightened his hold on your hand.

“Y/N! Baby, I didn’t do anything! You have to believe me. Please… I would never have done that… never! I would have never betrayed the Order, and especially not James, you know… you know that, right? You believe me, right? I didn’t… I’m innocent!”

If there was any doubt left in your mind when you had walked on this cursed rock, there was none clouding your head now. It was written everywhere on his features and in his grey eyes. It wasn’t him… it wasn’t him…

You nodded, brushing your tears away and sniffing loudly. You were a mess, but you didn’t give a damn.

“I know. I believe you. I believe you, Sirius. I know it wasn’t you.”

For the first time in months, Sirius smiled. He grinned, even, almost laughing out of relief. You smiled at him too.

“Thank you…”

He reached outside the cell and you got closer so he could brush his fingertips across your cheek. You shivered at the feeling. It was crazy, how you felt better and safer and warmer just because of a small brush of his skin against yours…

“I couldn’t do anything to get you out,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry… Albus and I tried everything…”

“I know. It’s not your fault. It was a set up.”

“Do you know who betrayed us? I looked for clues everywhere, but I didn’t find anything.”

His eyes darkened, his features twisting with wrath and hate.

“It was Peter. This bloody rat!”

“Peter?! But Peter is dead!”

“No! He’s not! He set me up! We changed at the last minute who would be the secret keeper, I was too worried they would get to me. I shouldn’t have… it was all my fault…”

“Peter was the secret keeper? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry, I should have…”

“So… he faked his own death?”

“Yes. I knew it was him, of course I did. He turned into the rat he really is and disappeared.”

You nodded, a whirlwind of thoughts in your mind now. It seemed plausible enough… It still made more sense than to believe Sirius guilty.

“But how can I find him?”

Sirius gave you a warm smile.

“My darling… always so stubborn, huh?”

“I’m not giving up on you. I never will! I promise… I’ll find a way to prove you’re innocent…”

But Sirius shook his head.

“There’s no use. I won’t hold on for that long in here…”

“Don’t say things like that! You have to! I’m ordering you to! Do you hear me?”

He smiled, nodded, but you could read in his eyes that he didn’t mean it.

“Sirius…”

“It will take years. If he remains a rat, he can disappear altogether, and then what? You’ll never find him. You won’t find him… love, there’s no need…”

“Sirius, you have to fight. You can’t give up on me. Cause I’m not giving up on you, do you hear? I love you!”

“I love you too. I love you so much…”

You both pressed your foreheads against the door. It was cold and moist and it stank of rusted iron. But there was Sirius’s breath brushing against your face, and it was so reassuring to be near him again…

“I’ll get you out. I’ll find a way to get you out,” you whispered, afraid eavesdroppers could hear.

“I’ll try to hold on…”

“You could escape…”

You looked up at each other. You gave him a smile, the stubborn kind, the ones he knew meant that you were ready to do anything for him…

“I’ll wait for you where we’ll always find each other.”

He knew what you meant. When you had entered the Order after leaving Hogwarts, you had made a plan. If something happened, if one of you needed to run away, you would find each other in the Shrieking Shack. It was safe. Few knew about the secret passageways leading there…

He nodded, giving you a more earnest smile this time.

“Alright… I’ll try… But you would… so many risks…”

His voice broke, his throat too tight. It had been made hoarse by his loneliness there, in this cell, by the shouts he screamed at night, by the visits of the Dementors…

“Don’t even start,” you interrupted him. “I know what I’m doing. I want you… I need you to survive this, and to come back to me. Do you hear? I’ve lost too much I can’t… I can’t lose you too…”

You were crying again, and Sirius soon joined you, throwing his head back to slow down the tears. He sniffed hard before speaking again.

“Where’s Harry? Are you the one taking care of him?”

But you shook your head.

“Albus gave him to someone else… I don’t want to say it here…”

Sirius nodded.

“Is he safe? Is he okay?”

“He’s okay. Albus and Minerva took care of him. He’ll be fine.”

“He should be with us. I should… I should be the one taking care of him and raising him… No… No, actually, none of this should have happened and James…”

But his voice broke again, and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment, trying to get a hold of his emotions, to control it all. But it was so painful to think about what had happened, what should have happened instead. To touch the void James and Lily had left in their wake…

“I know,” you nodded, drying your cheeks once more. “I know…”

“It’s all my fault…”

“Stop it. It won’t bring them back. You’re a good man, Sirius. You have to stop doubting that about yourself.”

He gave you a sad but fond smile, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone.

“Sorry, I forgot how much you hate it when I do that.”

“Been fighting this habit of yours for years, but you’re so bloody stubborn!”

“I thought you were the stubborn one in our relationship. You’re the stubborn one, and I’m the reckless one.”

“True,” you nodded with a chuckle.

And it felt so good to hear this sound again, so right… Sirius had thought he would never hear it again… the most beautiful sound he had ever heard…

He took in your features, even if your eyes were red, and your cheeks stained with tears, it didn’t matter. You were beautiful. And you seemed sadder than the last time he had seen you, that afternoon, right before that dreadful night, and yet… yet it was still you. You were still the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, with the same kindness in your gaze, the same fondness in your smile, the same soothing sound in your voice. You were the love of his life, now more than ever, he had no doubt about that. You were everything… his everything…

And he carved in his mind every detail from your eyelashes to the curve of your lips to the form of your jaw and chin. He carved everything in his mind, every detail, to remember you by.

He loved you so much, now more than ever. Even if his world was destroyed, even when he thought he had lost everything, you were still there, promising him that you would remain by his side despite everything and… he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve a love like yours. But Godric, was he thankful and happy to have been granted to hold your hand like this, even if this ought to be the last time he would…

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I…”

But you were interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping against the stony floor. When you turned around, the guard was walking towards you. And you knew what it meant…

When you looked at Sirius again, you seemed terrified, desperate even. And he tried to give you a reassuring smile, he really did, he wanted to but… but the thought of you leaving again, the thought that he might never see you after this… it was too painful. Too much to handle. Too much to grieve over.

“It’s time,” the guard said, taking your arm and starting to pull you towards the exit.

“No!” you begged, and you didn’t care to be begging it didn’t matter, you couldn’t leave yet, you weren’t ready to leave him behind. “Please, please just five more minutes. Please!”

But the guard refused, and he pulled you harder, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to imprint a bruise in the shape of his fingers into your upper arm. You didn’t care though, you resisted. You kept your eyes locked on Sirius, trying to memorize every detail about him, even if he was but the shadow of the man he once was already. Still… it was him… same grey eyes filled with demons and guilt and kindness, same hair you loved running your fingers through, same palm against your hand that knew every part of your body, same lips you had kissed a thousand times… it was still him. Rebellious and reckless and sweet and caring and the love of your life…

He was everything… your everything…

And you couldn’t lose him. Not like that… it was too unfair…

“PLEASE!” you cried, holding onto Sirius’s hand, but the guard was relentless, and you were slipping away…

“I love you,” Sirius said in a hurry, conscious that he was running out of time. “Y/N, my darling, I love you so much. I always will. Do you hear? I love you, and I always will, no matter what happens…”

“I love you! Sirius!”

But the guard dragged you away, and your fingers slipped away from Sirius’s hold.

He pressed himself against the door, trying to catch one more glimpse of you.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he shouted, and you called for him as well as the guard dragged you away, but there was nothing you could do to stop him.

When the door of the corridor closed with a loud noise, Sirius fell to his knees, his temple pressed against the cold door.

There was nothing but silence for a while, before he could hear it again. The languid, vicious breath of the Dementor approaching, down the corridor… and somehow, Sirius knew that he would stop by his cell. He had too many emotions in him now not to attract the nightmares…

It didn’t matter though. He would hold on. He had promised you he would, and he had never broken a vow made to you. He would not let the Dementors take you away from him. Besides, he was innocent. He would hold on, he would not let them break him.

The lock of the door clicked, without any key being inserted in the keyhole. When he let out a shaky breath, the air leaving Sirius’s lungs formed a little puff of smoke, white and ethereal, in the unnaturally cold air.

Sirius closed his eyes, and he didn’t cower in a corner, didn’t try to find shelter. He had learnt during the previous months that it was useless, that there was nowhere to hide. The fight was in his head, in his heart, not in the cell.

He looked up to find the hooded spectre he was expecting. It was okay though. He would hold on. He had to, for you…

One day, he would escape this hell. He would find a way. Nothing and no one could hold him back from coming back to you.

Upon his cheeks, the tears that had lingered froze, turned into small beads of ice that shone despite the darkness of the cell. There was no warmth left anywhere… only dark and cold. But there was your memory as well…

Sirius simply hoped that when he would find a way to escape, you would still be there, waiting for him.

*****************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @omgrachwrites

@hells-escapees

[feastonkings]

spencer charnas / he/him ——— no way is that GODRIC CHERNYKH .. they’re a 35-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being DEPRESSED & OMINOUS but there are some people who have seen them being SUCCESSFUL & IMAGINATIVE. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of always having a camera on hand, bullet points on a napkin, unsent text messages, five-o-clock shadow, and hand rolled cigarettes, but that could just be because they’re considered the DREAMER around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: godric filipp chernykh nicknames: god, ric, g classification: human gender / pronouns: cis man, he/him age / birthday: 35, november 14th orientations: heteroflexible, heteroromantic occupation: film director & writer location: upper district status: heartbroken family: gavrill chernykh (father, deceased), svetlana chernykh (mother, deceased), giorgi chernkyh (brother, deceased), godric chernkyh (twin), pandora (brother's widow) strengths: succesful, imaginative, empathetic, pensive, philosophical weaknesses: depressed, ominous, morose, obsessive, withdrawn character inspo: eric draven (the crow), edward cullen (twilight), will graham (hannibal), holden ford (mindhunter), vanya hargreeves (the umbrella academy), michael corleone (godfather), marianne sheridan (normal people), tyrion lannister (game of thrones)

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: murder, suicide, blood, graphic violence, abuse

unrelenting passion, it’s the kind of thing that flows hot in your veins and reaches all the way down into your core. when you want someone so bad, need them, it’s hard to breathe air that doesn’t have their taste lingering on your tongue. that kind of passion is rare, indeed, but it can be incredibly dangerous if it isn’t shared. gavrill chernkyh felt this the moment he set eyes on svetlana mirkin.

when someone is that infatuated with a person, it’s hard to deny them. it felt so good to be wanted, to be needed, she was just another girl trying to survive poverty after all. svetlana fell into the beauty of the thing, wrapped up in lust and the heat of the moment. next thing they knew, they were pregnant, having a shotgun wedding, and at each other’s throats.

first came giorgi, and things were good for a while. gavrill was working his way higher up in the crime syndicate his family aligned with. then five years later when things reached their peak, gage and godric came crashing into the world. it was then that their relationship started its downward spiral.

fights started getting physical, passion transformed into something much more poisonous. still, svetlana stayed through the highs and lows until she started to notice giorgi following in his father's footsteps. she wasn't going to have it any longer, she fled to texas with the help of her sister that already resided there and took all three boys with her.

that didn’t stop gavill's passion though, it took him awhile but he found them. and oh, was he angry. out for blood, and that’s exactly what he got. svetlana was torn to pieces in the end. she fought back against him, but she was no match for his skillset. the red cloud lifted from gavill's eyes and he saw what he did, the massive pool of blood, the object of his desire in pieces, his two young boys staring at him in shock. right there he shot himself.

the twins sat in that massacre for nearly two whole days, covered in the mixture of dna that ran through their veins. it was when giorgi came home that authorities were called. despite their crime affiliation, there was no avoiding the involvement of the law.

all three boys went to live with their aunt until giorgi could legally take over the twins' care. the trauma of the situation settling different with the two youngest boys.

unlike his twin, the gruesome departure of his parents affected him greatly. he would find no comfort from his aunt who often couldn't look at the boys due to their uncanny feature similarities to their father. obviously his brothers weren't much help in that, though to giorgi's credit, he tried to offer some. it was him who told his aunt to put the twins in grief counseling.

this was where him and his brothers started to drift apart. while godric had a healthy hate for law enforcement, he wasn't a criminal. he didn't want to make career out of breaking the law. no, he found his passion in telling stories.

he worked hard in school and went on to college, all while distancing himself from his brothers, especially gage. that didn't mean he cut them out completely, but he tread carefully. besides, his twin offered a lot of muse for his work.

out of college he didn't waste a second getting to work and turning pain into masterpieces. though he wrote and directed other things, he made a name for himself in the horror genre. godric brought fresh and innovative ideas to the screen.

eventually he got a steady job with kismet studios that allowed him the freedom to work on all his projects with an extra stipulation of some corporate work now and then. he even met someone that after a long string of failed relationships, seemed to match him in ways no one else had been able to

everything seemed to be going well until he decided to try and make it permanent. godric proposed and that was the end. she never answered him and soon disappeared altogether, leaving him bewildered and heartbroken.

after that, he threw himself into his work and stopped going out like he used to. it has definitely taken a toll on his art, which others have noticed. it got darker and in some ways, much more somber.

he's working on improving that and constantly striving to make the next best thing. he hasn't seen his ex, at that point he figured she'd moved somewhere else and got on with her life. something he needed to do as well.

HEADCANONS.

knows several languages: norwegian, swedish, russian, german, dutch, polish, and hungarian.

can play the piano, violin, and cello - though cello is the instrument he's played the longest.

often basis characters and plotlines on his twin and older brother's stories, he doesn't want to know if they are true or not and this is his way of coping with it.

more coming soon....

[blue-flamed-phoenix]

My Posts Masterlist

This is where you'll find everything that I have posted.

Stories:

Little Wolf - Jerome Valeska FanFiction

Wattpad link to the book

Chapter 1 - Joining the circus

Chapter 2 - Freaks

Chapter 3 - Help you

Chapter 4 - Him

Chapter 5 - Red

Chapter 6 - Kansas City

Chapter 7 - The blind fortune teller

Chapter 8 - The blind fortune teller - Part 2

Chapter 9 - A mistake

Chapter 10 - Waking up again

Chapter 11 - shifting

Chapter 12 - could I?

Out of the woods - OUAT Peter Pan

Introduction/Book cover

Chapter 1 - Escape

Stripes - Jerome Valeska FanFiction

Introduction/book poster

Chapter 1 - intrigued

Chapter 2 - Ginger

Chapter 3 - Curiosity

Mini Valeska - Jerome Valeska Fanfic

Introduction/book poster

Chapter 1 - Jacie

The last daughter of Krypton - General Zod Fanfic

Introduction/book poster

Chapter 1 - A loss

The unknown Falcone - Victor Zsasz FanFic

Introduction/book poster

Something to Live for - Godric - Trueblood

Coming soon!

Survivor - Troy Otto

Coming soon!

Seeing through a strangers eyes - Patrick Hockstetter

Chapter 1 - Where there is death there is rebirth

Goddess - Morpheus - The Sandman

Coming Soon!

Handler - Donald Pierce

Introduction/Book cover

Chapter 1 - A04

Chapter 2 - Volatile

Chapter 3 -

A Hybrid Mate - Klaus Mikaelson

Introduction/Book cover

Chapter 1 - Why Me!

The Monsters We Are - Victor Creed

Introduction/Book cover

A Knighted Warrior - Kylo Ren

Introduction/Book Cover

Part I

Outside world - Ledger Joker FanFic

Introduction/book cover

Chapter 1 - 'Station'

Imagines

Sweet dreams - Jerome Valeska

Edits

The outsiders

Wonder woman - Kings and queens x sweet but psycho (edited audio) by FOUR BITS

Ajax (Deadpool) - Often (Kygo Remix) by The Weekend, Kygo

Jerome Valeska - WTF by HUGEL, Amber Van Day

Jerome Valeska - AIK Hockey intro by ALK 1891

Jerome Valeska - underground by Neoni

Jerome Valeska - mutiny by Neoni

Jerome Valeska - I'm good (blue) by David Guetta by Bebe Rexha

Jerome Valeska - Happier by Ed Sheeran

Jerome Valeska - Vendetta

Jerome Valeska - Bad guy by Billie Eilish

Vasleska Twins - Bad guy by Billie Eilish

Jeremiah Valeska - Bad guy by Billie Eilish

Victor Zsasz - Oblivion

Funny Gotham Villians edit

Peter Pan - make you the one by XO-IQ

Peter Pan - Born for this by The Score

Peter Pan and Y/N - Dark horse by Katy Perry

Peter Pan and Y/N - Ignite by Alan Walker

True Blood - Godric - Again by Noah Cyrus

Avengers Edit - Centuries x heathens made by @Xichuaudios

Zod Edit - Believer by Imagine Dragons

Wonder Woman - Kings and Queens by Ava Max

[cyberplex]

Howdy, Kit, and welcome to the Cyberplex! Please submit your account to the main in the next 72 hours and look over the rest of our checklist here. We look forward to seeing Gage Chernykh, Godric Chernykh, Harlem Diaz, and Kylo Bronson on the dash.

spencer charnas / he/him  ———  no way is that GODRIC CHERNYKH .. they’re a 35-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being DEPRESSED &  OMINOUS but there are some people who have seen them being SUCCESSFUL  &  IMAGINATIVE.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of always having a camera on hand, bullet points on a napkin, unsent text messages, five-o-clock shadow, and hand rolled cigarettes, but that could just be because they’re considered the DREAMER around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

spencer charnas / he/him  ———  no way is that GAGE CHERNYKH.. they’re a 35-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being APATHETIC  &  CREEPY but there are some people who have seen them being METHODICAL  &  SHARP.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of remnants of a russian accent, blood on a tile floor, a smile that doesn’t meet the eyes, hair and heart as black as coal, the quiet in losing loved ones, and a well placed mask, but that could just be because they’re considered the EVIL TWIN around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

dominic fike / he/him  ———  no way is that HARLEM DIAZ.. they’re a 26-year-old SYNTH notoriously known for being GULLIBLE  &  SPACEY but there are some people who have seen them being FREE SPIRITED &  OPTIMISTIC.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of the perfect playlist, stick and poke tattoos, goofy t-shirts and oversized sweatshirts, puppy dog eyes, and random lyrics written in pocket size notebooks, but that could just be because they’re considered the FUNCTIONAL ADDICT around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

samuel larson / he/him  ———  no way is that KYLO BRONSON.. they’re a 33-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being RESENTFUL  &  ROGUERY but there are some people who have seen them being WILD &  SLICK.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of assorted body piercings, jumping the train tracks, a message history filled with memes, dark circles under eyes from lack of sleep, and doodles on post-its stuck randomly in his wake, but that could just be because they’re considered the TRICKSTER around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

[violet-virtual-friend]

Fanfic writing about Eric Northman

The Legend of Erik: The Venerated Vampire

Join me as I weave an enigmatic tale from an epoch past, dwelling deep within the paradox of my consciousness. A clandestine truth that I frequently shroud in secrecy, revealing it only upon whims that are uniquely mine. The signs have been scattered about in dreams and indications like the traces of stars in the inky nighttime sky, evident yet elusive. A truth that crystallized into certainty after my progenitor, Godric, embraced the final sunrise of his existence.

Imagine my shock when I was visited by a radiant yet infuriating being, the Archangel Michael, after Godric's departure. This celestial figure, as beguiling as he was bothersome, had been my silent sentinel since my birth, predominantly remaining aloof until he could keep his peace no longer. The reason for his latency, however, remains a mystery to me, though I suspect he was biding for an opportune moment.

Since my first gust of breath as a human child, Michael’s blood pulsed alongside mine—a mystical union between a human mother and an angelic father, concealed within nocturnal dreams. His intent was to bestow upon me a destiny of magnanimous proportions, endowing me with supernatural skills such as exceptional speed, stealth, physical prowess, and intuitive insights. I became an enigma, defying the commonality of mankind with my preternatural artistry in combat and mind reading ability.

Inheriting the throne after my erstwhile-observed father's demise, I became the king. A true leader, propagating peace while fostering mastery of self. However, my reign as a Viking King uncertainly ended in the face of a curse imposed by the Goddess Morrigan, fueled by spite and unrequited love.

Facing the ominous brink of death, I was bequeathed the dark gift of vampirism by Godric. His attraction to me was palpable—but beyond the allure of my warrior spirit, it was my angelic lineage that drew him towards me unknowingly. Intrigued by the uniqueness of my blood, Godric confessed experiencing a transformative shift after initiating me as a vampire—a dampening of his pervasive darkness, increased strength, and an enhanced sense of self-awareness.

Does a vampire not struggle with internal mastery, often entangled in the threads of sadistic urges and darkness that come with our kind? Yet, I seemed impervious to such trifles. Yes, the initial thirst for blood felt insurmountable, but with a strong command over my will, I managed to tame it. I was, always have been, and continue to be a paragon of control.

The revelation of my bloodline did cause an internal ideological conflict, but I couldn't deny its credibility once Godric confirmed the unique properties of my blood. Not extinguished by Godric’s dark gift, the angelic portion persists, morphing me and Godric into hybrids of angelic and vampiric constitutions. Embroiled in this constant internal strife, Michael urged me to seek peace and fulfil the prophecy I am yet to grasp fully—an impending war between supernaturals and humanity.

The humans’ audacious exploitation of power has sparked a supernatural uprising aimed at eradicating unworthy humans. The sole survivors of our purgation would be chosen humans, while the rebels who’ve flouted the fundamental cosmic statutes face annihilation. United for this divine cause, the elemental creatures, the unseen spirits, and supernatural beings including vampires, angels, demons are emerging as the rightful gods.

Yet, even among these original Gods, disputes brew, and I've been prophesied as one of the future leaders. Fancy that, me navigating political melees! But the pull of this war that thrums in my veins—urgent, demanding justice—feels far beyond ordinary political squabbles. I can feel the churning call-to-arms, a relentless whisper promising triumph.

It is time to confront the arrogant mortals and impose divine justice. If the prophecy holds truth, the inevitable will unfold regardless of our readiness. So, dare witness my tale, unraveling the destiny of Erik, the Eternal Ruler, as our story continues...

[sardonicbeauty]

IT DIDN'T MUCH MATTER TO HER WHETHER SUCH A SERIOUS DECISION as meeting the true death were up to her or not in Godric's case. Pamela was never one to back down on speaking her mind or expressing how she felt when it came to those she loved (and she loved so few). The elder could have reprimanded her if he wanted and the blonde would fight back regardless. But not even Godric could deny the fact that she was valid in her anger. She had been left out, not purposefully, but it still made her feel small. Deep down, she knew she had little to no right in whatever her grandsire chose to do, she could only imagine the life he led and how tired he must have been. Again, she was being selfish, she knew that. She's glad he feels guilty though, there was some strange comfort in that. It made her feel important to him and that's all she ever wanted when it came to both Godric and Eric. Without them, she would be nothing. So, as he caressed her face, she kept herself still, the back of her hand wiping at the blood tears that stained pale features with a light sniffle. All she ever wanted was to feel included and he had failed her in that, for the first time in over a hundred years. It wasn't even Sookie's fault and yet, she would never be able to forgive the woman for being able to be there when Pam herself couldn't. It would be a strain between all of them for a while as Pamela held grudges with a passion. There'd be no more thoughts about that for now however, not when Godric's words finally caused the corner of plump lips to slowly curl before his small arms easily shifted and lifted her upwards, cradling her like a child. He was much smaller than her, but he picked her up with ease and she almost instantly let her head rest within the crook of his neck. He was the one who nearly met the sun and yet, he was comforting her as a result, she didn't even care how fucked up that was. All she cared about was the fact that he made her feel whole again just by presence and love, alone. She nodded into his neck at the suggestion, arms tightening around his shoulders as he carried her off. Exhaustion was getting the best of her, though that didn't mean she wouldn't still be angry with him come sundown when she awoke next. At the very least, they could have some semblance of a moment together as he helped to clean her up. Even Eric in that moment was nothing more than a statue as he stood by and watched them, guiding Godric to where the bathrooms were before making his way into the office to give them some privacy. ❝ It's just the bleeds. ❞ She began to say as if defensively, trying to make up an excuse for her appearance when she didn't need to. ❝ I'll be fine. ❞ She wasn't fine, she was a mess and she knew it.

THE WAY THE YOUNGEST AMONG THEM SPOKE     ;     it was an absolute treasure     ,     & something the elder always found amusing.     normally a fledgling     ,     even of her age     ,      would have no say in what happened between maker & progeny.     (     well     ,     grand - progeny in this case.     )     though     ,     that couldn’t be farther from the truth when it came to his bloodline.     godric had chosen the viking     ,     who in turn had chosen this beautiful     ,     young doe to be part of the family.     how could he insult either of them by taking away their voice     —     granted     ,     were a decision finalized     ,     the pair’s opinions & comments would be heard     ,     though not incorporated.     the father was capable of listening     ,     & would even change his mind if convinced.     but this     ?     this had been different.     it wasn’t up to them whether he lived or died.

still     –     he listened     ,     heard the girl out     ,     & gave up all resolve to get rid of his exhaustion.     never again did he want to see the crimson coloring her cheeks     ;     never again did he want her to feel this deep pain that he’d hoped to keep hidden.     loving smile drew to soft features     ,     lips pressed a few more gentle pecks to her forehead.     further reassurance that he was there     ,     that he wouldn’t be leaving her anytime soon.     that deep feeling hadn’t left him quite yet     ,     still feeling that lingering pain in his chest.     nonetheless     ,     it didn’t compare.     guilt for misdeeds came nowhere close to guilt for almost leaving his family behind.     & for what     ?     for his own atonement     ?     for a small hope that after two - thousand years he might meet this god the humans so highly spoke of.     not that he ever truly believed he existed.

❛     of course     ,     my little dove.     ❜     the ancient cooed against her forehead     ,     digits gently tucking hair out of her face so he could finally look at her.     hands moved to cup her features carefully     ,     thumbs brushing over her cheeks lightly.     she was absolutely breathtaking     ,     even in this state of dishevelment.     ❛     it was so very wrong of me to do this to you.     the least i can do is make it up to you     ,     sweet one.     anything you want     ,     it's yours.     ❜

as he spoke     ,     hands stopped their movement     ,     instead shifting his body to wrap his arms around his grandchild before repositioning them.     without much effort     ,     one arm tilted her back     ,     while the other scooped her up by her legs.     despite small stature     ,     the ex - warrior had great strength.     & honestly     ,     to him     ,     she was as light as a feather.     for a few moments     ,     he simply stood there     ,     lips pressing to her head as he swayed with her.     voice nearly inaudible when he finally spoke up.

❛     for now     –     why don’t we get you washed up     ,     & into your coffin     ?     ❜     though a suggestion     ,     the creature really felt that this was a necessity.     his grandchild was looking exhausted     ,     clearly suffering from the bleeds     ;     she needed her rest as soon as possible.     without waiting for an answer     ,     legs began to lead him toward the exit     –     taking some slight direction from eric when he was going the wrong way     ,     rather than the desired bathroom.

[chloe-skywalker]

I started watching "True Blood" on Hulu

The first season I was like WTF is going on? WTF am I watching?

Then I was like oh now it's getting really good and I looked back to see where I felt it went good and I was like oh season 2 lol.

I have fallen in love with the Eric Northman character.

I wasn't sure I was gonna like this show or have a character I really liked but Eric grew on me and I really like him.

I've been reading all the fanfiction I can find on him! I read over 600 things in day this past week tumblr gave me a badge for it lol.

I just don't know if I can wrote for him he's just so new and I love him to much at the moment.

But would anyone be interested if I wrote for him?

What about for Godric? Loved him to.

[lovemurphythe100]

Imagine how protective Godric is over you if anyone is disrespectful against you.

(I love this scene)

[fandomvariousness]

Prompt 22 - Don’t try and stop me now

Pairing: Godric x human!reader

Warnings: brief mentions of violence, smut

Request: “can u do a yandere godric imagine with the prompt 22 please?”

Word count: 380

To everyone else, Godric seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, even though he is a 2000-year-old vampire. Yet with you, his livelier side blossomed – he laughed more often, was more dynamic and willing to do anything for you.

Yet he was also jealous. Extremely jealous.

It seemed to him that you, being such a fragile human, can be taken away from him easily. Not that he would let that happened, but he knew someone would try to tamper with his patience one way or another. When it comes to you, he has zero tolerance towards bullshit.

You were reminded of that once again when some cheeky vampire from a neighboring state clearly demonstrated that he wants to score you, without realizing just who’s mate you are.

It was an annual meeting of sheriffs, and each of them brought some of their subordinates, one of which happened to be that ignorant, relentless vampire that didn’t want to let you go.

“Listen,” you said, changing your tone. “See that, uh, fuming vampire over there?” you curtly nodded your head towards Godric.

“Yeah?” he said. “That’s Godric, he’s –”

“My boyfriend.” you interrupted him, a small smile playing on your lips upon seeing fear flash through your interlocutor’s eyes. “And I think he’s disapproving of you bothering me. Don’t you think so?”

The vampire raised his eyebrows awkwardly and creeped away with an awkward smile.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips you returned to Godric, who was still quite displeased.

“It was so obvious, written right on his face.” he spat out. “He didn’t want to merely talk with you.”

“Relax, I fended him off just fine.” you cooed, satisfied with yourself.

“Don’t try and stop me now.” he said and made a beeline towards your earlier ‘friend’, but you placed your dainty palm on his chest.

“No need. He won’t even look at me now.”

It took a few more moments for Godric to finally tear his murderous gaze from the vampire and turn it to you, immediately softening it.

You wound your hands around his neck and felt how his whole posture relaxes.

He lightly shook his head in disbelief as you chuckled, looking straight in your eyes. “2000 years on this earth and I’ve never felt more alive.”

[vazaha-tya]

the thing is that jkr compared trans activists to death eaters which puts me in the awkward position of wanting to write a fic where death eaters are in the right (which is super difficult to justify since blood supremacy is basically an unholy mix of racism, classism and ableism. i've mentioned that in a previous post but yeah, that's the reason why dark harry fics require me to suspend disbelief a little because the rhetoric to justify him switching sides is not always well thought-out. death eaters are not nazis but they're pretty damn close)

and i kept thinking, what if voldemort hadn't killed the potters? what if he was in godric's hollow for another reason and someone else came that night?

like obviously that wouldn't work in canon but it would be a full alternate universe

so i've been imagining harry getting death visions after [insert one of his many brushes with death]. more specifically, he sees the deaths of members of the potter family line. some who died by witch burning - which gives him a little crisis because wtf muggles -, others in war, illness or peacefully in their sleep. and he finds out that the potters, for reasons i won't explain because that would be spoiling, are immune to the killing curse.

and now he's confused because that contradicts what he remembers from his contact with dementors.

if his death visions are true and james potter couldn't have died from avada kedavra like he heard in third year, then what happened that night?

(tagging @captaincacata and @dandelionyolk since you commented on the previous post. do tell me what you think!)

will my readers kill me if i start another wip i'm not sure i'll finish?

i have a really good idea i think

[masterjasper223]

The Party No One Remembers

When Eric thinks of Godric, as he was before he died, in recent history, there's one night in particular that comes to mind. Only he, Pam and Bill still remember the event clearly, because all of the humans in attendance had had their memories wiped. All, that is, except for you and Sookie- but both of you had gotten so blackout drunk that glamouring wouldn't have been necessary, even if it had been possible for someone to do it to Sookie, and even if Eric had been able to bring himself to do it to you.

Flashback to the night in question...

It was late, only a few hours before dawn, around the time when the party had slowed down and most of the hangers-on had gone home. All of the decent ones, anyway.

"Let's play spin the bottle!"

One of the nameless humans suggested it, and had set the game in motion before anyone had even agreed.

The first spin stopped on Pam and Sookie.

Bill, who didn't know the aim of the game, hadn't been paying attention, and was caught off guard when Pam appeared beside his then-girlfriend, tilted up her chin with a manicured fingernail and laid a surprisingly chaste kiss on her mouth, finishing up with a suggestive tug on her lower lip.

The game had nearly ended right then and there when Bill had tried to throw Pam across the room- but Godric had intervened, ever the voice of reason, (albeit one interrupted every few seconds by Sookie's drunken giggles).

Eventually, Bill had simmered down, but he kept a protective hand on Sookie's shoulder for the rest of the night, and the bottle didn't settle on the pair again after that, always mysteriously wobbling in the opposite direction just when it seemed about to stop.

The second spin stopped on Eric and Jason.

Jason, who had been eyeing up the girl with the short skirt next to him, had jumped about a foot in the air when Eric's cold hand had closed around his bicep, eyes flying wide as the blond vampire ensnared his lips in a brief, but passionate, kiss.

The third spin stopped on Isabel and Jessica.

Ignoring Bill's disapproving look, the redhead practically leapt onto Isabel's lap, wrapping her thighs around the older vampire's hips and locking eyes with her expectantly. To everyone's surprise, Isabel indulged her in a minute-long make-out session before kicking her off.

The fourth spin landed on you and Godric, who had only sat down in the circle after resolving the commotion with Bill and Pam. Clearly, his intention had not been to play along- but then, what was a kiss to a vampire of his age?

Nothing, of course.

Or so he had thought, right up until he had cupped your cheek and was leaning in to kiss you- and he had sensed Eric's displeasure.

********************************************

Godric cocked his head, so that his progeny, who was seated beside you in the circle, entered his field of vision. His jaw was set in a hard line, and his blue eyes were full of an emotion that Godric would not have needed their connection to name.

Jealousy.

Yes, but underneath it lurked something more. He probed the feelings Eric was emanating through their bond, and was surprised to discover a twinge of guilt. Less surprising was the hunger, mingled with possessiveness and desire- but there was a stronger emotion threading all of it together, an undercurrent of--

"Godric, are you going to kiss me or not?" you huffed, tugging at the cold hand that was still cupping your face.

That was a good question.

Godric hummed, stroking your cheek and brushing his nose with yours, until your eyes fluttered closed again.

Eric hadn't kissed you yet. That much was obvious. You clearly weren't his, either- if you had tasted Eric's blood, Godric would have known. But why was that? Why was he pining for you? It was most unlike Eric not to act.

Of course, he had only just reconnected with his progeny, so he did not know of the circumstances surrounding the two of you, but all the same, it was hard for him to imagine what might be keeping you apart.

Perhaps he just needed an incentive?

A ghost of a smile graced Godric's lips before he closed the distance between you at last, claiming your mouth in a sensual kiss.

And as he did, several things happened at once.

The humans got bored of waiting for the kiss to happen and started spinning the bottle again.

At the same time, a few of the vampires got up and left the circle- Bill among them, leading a very wobbly Sookie away with him.

And then, just as your hand reached out and grasped Godric's shirt, Eric's fangs dropped.

Only Godric and Pam noticed this, but the former feined ignorance, taking his time with your lips before pulling back and placing a ticklish kiss on either side of your mouth.

You laughed, eyes fluttering open, and for a fleeting moment Godric saw you as Eric sees you.

Beautiful.

Exciting.

Fascinating.

His.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and, drunk as you were, you remained oblivious to it, excusing yourself before skipping off to the bathroom to freshen up. Godric chose that moment to wander outside, and Eric followed him, hastily retracting his fangs.

"Is there something you want to say to me, Eric?" Godric asked, in their mother tongue, glancing at his progeny.

Eric remained silent, avoiding his maker's gaze. Godric could tell that he was at once trying to find the words, and unsure whether or not he should speak them.

"We have shared food before, but this was different, yes?" he prompted. "You do not want to share her with anyone, not even me."

Eric shook his head emphatically. "I would do anything for you."

"Ah, Eric..." Godric sighed and turned his face up to the moon. "I have lived for what feels like an eternity. I have seen and done what feels like everything, and have met and tasted, killed and savoured what feels like every human there could be, such that few things have meaning to me anymore. Very few, indeed.

"But for those few things in which I can still find meaning, I would do anything. I would not give them up, or let them from my grasp, even if my own maker ordered me to."

Eric still recalls the thrill of fear he had felt at these words.

This wasn't the Godric he knew. Something within his maker had changed- that had been clear from the moment he had rescued him from that accursed church's basement. There was so much he wanted to say. He felt like he had to say something, anything, to snap Godric out of it and bring back the man- the vampire- he knew, before it was too late. He couldn't help but feel like he was running out of time.

Yet the silence stretched on and on between them, until finally, desperately, he blurted, "You are important to me."

Godric smiled knowingly and held his gaze. "As you are to me. That is why I am giving you this advice."

"I don't need--" Eric protested.

"You love her. Have you told her this?"

Eric clenched his jaw and shook his head. "It's... complicated."

"Well, long as our lives may be, they are still finite. True death awaits us all- we are not so different from humans in that regard. If I were you, I would not waste too much time. Think about what this life means to you, my son."

And with that, Godric had gone.

********************************************

There was one other memory that stood out to him from that night, though this one didn't really involve Godric at all.

Flashback to the night in question...

"Hey! Eric!"

It was after Godric had left him alone outside. You caught up to him on the stairs leading up to your rooms for the night, and wasted no time in (as Eric thought of it) pushing his buttons.

"Did you enjoy your kiss with Jason?" you teased, poking him in the ribs.

"No," he said, shortly. "Did you enjoy your kiss with Godric?" The question came out a little more sharply than he had intended, but thankfully you didn't seem to notice.

You nodded frantically, then quickly shook your head, frowning.

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched. "Well? Which is it?"

"He took way long- too long," you said, stumbling over your words and, at the same time, careening into Eric's side, nearly pushing him over the edge of the bannister and falling down the stairs yourself. He caught you with some difficulty, one hand gripping the bannister hard enough to warp the metal, the other grabbing your arm much more gently and tugging you into an awkward half-hug.

Your hands, meanwhile, were less well-behaved. Somehow your floundering fingers had come to rest on the front of his trousers and under his button-up shirt.

"Mmph. This is dangerous," you muttered, squeezing the denim- or, rather, the hardening length you could feel through it.

The situation was absurd enough to be comical, but Eric couldn't laugh.

You were right- it was dangerous. He was overstimulated, and vulnerable- what with your hands squeezing his cock and scratching at his bare skin, your delicious pulse thrumming right under his nose, the turmoil of his feelings for both you and Godric swirling in his breast, the sight of you kissing his maker still fresh in his mind's eye...

For the second time that night, his fangs dropped.

In the blink of an eye you were both inside his room, with the door locked and you pressed flat against it. One of his hands had your arms pinned above your head, while the other tangled in your hair, pulling your neck just so, making the vein there stand out against your skin. His teeth grazed it...

"Eric?"

Not like this.

He released you, and a split-second later he was sitting on the edge of the bed on the far side of the room.

You stumbled over to him, confused. Eric very much doubted you had even been able to process what had just happened, and felt a further stab of guilt as you asked, "What's wrong?"

But he just shook his head.

"We'll talk about it in the morning."

If you remember any of this.

"Eric?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel so good..."

And with that, you face-planted onto the bed beside him, groaning in pain. He saw you safely into bed in your own room, and spent a restless day in the too-big bed in his separate, temporary, light-proof suite- alone.

********************************************

Of course, you hadn't remembered anything about the party when you had awoken late the following afternoon with a terrible hangover.

So that conversation had never happened, and since that night, nothing else has happened between the two of you, either.

But the more Eric reflects on these memories, the more he thinks: Maybe it's time he took Godric's advice.

[multifandomfanfiction]

My Girl - Snippet (From the Vault)

[A/N - This one is super cute and I’m sad that I have no recollection of writing it or where I was going with it. In my defense I started writing it in 2014. Oh well.]

Godric and Eric were enjoying a quiet evening at home, when there was a crash.

Eric was on his feet in a second.

Suddenly, the book Godric had in his hands disappeared. It appeared on the side table.

“What the…?” Godric asked.

Eric had his head cocked to the side in confusion. Something blew in his ear. He whipped around and nothing was there. Eric ran his hand thru his hair. His hand touched something. He pulled it out.

It was a paper flower in the shape of a lily.

Eric smiled and whistled an old tune. He waited.

It suddenly echoed.

“Alright, you can come out now”, Eric said.

Godric and Eric heard a sigh.

“I’ll come out if you can find me”, a voice said.

Eric listened carefully. “Why am I even trying? You’re hanging from the rafters.”

“How’d you guess?”

 “You always used to do that.”

She landed in front of him.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“Took me years to track you down Eric Northman”, she said, “It would’ve been easier if I was the maker and not the other way around”.

Godric looked confused.

“You must be Godric. Eric’s told me so much about you. You also always had a habit of sneaking around in my dreams.”

“Godric, I would like for you to meet my first daughter Lillian”, Eric said.

Lily shoved Eric off her. “God Eric. You know I hate that name. My name is Lily”, Lily told Godric.

Godric gave her a small smile.

“Where’s Pam?” Lily asked.

“At Fangtasia”, Eric said.

Lily bust out into laughter.

“Would you quit laughing at my bar’s name?” Eric asked.

Godric smiled at the way Eric and his child interacted with each other. It was more of a best friend relationship than a maker/child.