#yes be happy potions master

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Aaaawwww Jason was so soft and tentative with reader 😭it’s so nice to see big grump Jason Todd being all sweet and shy about it

Another party of the century, Alfred," Bruce sighed, adjusting his cufflinks, "Are the children ready?"

"The ones attending, certainly, sir," Alfred said.

"Right," Bruce said nodding, remembering belatedly that Cass was not 'public ready' and that you hated these things. So it made sense for you to stay with Cass. That way you both had company. "The girls-"

"And Master Jason," Alfred added, giving Bruce a meaningful look.

"Why?"

"The heart wants what it wants, Master Bruce," Alfred said simply. "But he did say he had paperwork to catch up on."

"He's not even trying."

"He did make a good show of it, grumbling and all," Alfred said. "If it weren't for him watching Miss Y/N so intently I might have believed him." The butler half smiled. "Not to worry. Miss Y/N has a selection of movies to introduce miss Cassandra to and I believe she's going to do her level best to replicate a proper girls night, even if most of the girls are missing."

"Cute," Bruce chuckled. "Please don't let them-"

"I'll prepare the popcorn. And all the facemasks are, I believe store bought. No potions are going to be "DIY'D" in my kitchen EVER again," the butler huffed. "But I will say I prefer that to holes in the dry wall and someone needing stitches."

"Very true," Bruce snorted. He paused straightening himself up and let Alfred finish fussing with him, "You're sure it won't cause trouble? I can still tell Jason-"

"Master Bruce," Alfred chuckled, "it's unlikely he'd behave in anyway unbecoming. And what's more, if we were to try, if Miss Y/N didn't force him to stop through sheer panic alone, Miss Cassandra would compel him by force. There's next to no danger of anything other than some stammering and Jason making a fool of himself. It's good for him. It'll remind him he's still human. And maybe," the butler mused reasonably, " give Miss Y/N a chance to stop being a wall flower."

"She's comfortable there," Bruce reminded.

"Yes, well. Comfortable doesn't always mean happy, does it?"

[feyascorner]

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it. 

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back.  Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot. 

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.” 

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @aelieknox @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @bitterbeanren Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

[marie-snape]

"Shhh"

Severus Snape x professor!slytherin!reader

Chapter 1, part 1

Word counter: 1.1k

Warnings: alcohol?

Movie/book: Philosopher/Sorcerer’s stone

================================

You were excited to come back to Hogwarts for teaching History of Magic. You were excited to meet your teachers, most of all your favourite, Professor Slughorn, the Potions Master and head of the Slytherin house.

On your first day you came to sit on the table with other professors, you saw familiar faces: Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey and others. But you didn’t see Professor Slughorn. You asked Dumbledore:

"Where’s professor Slughorn? Did he quit?"

"yes, like ten years ago, right after your graduation".

Oh, that’s really sad, you thought. "Who is the Potion Master now then?"

"Severus Snape, he is a Slytherin too. Maybe you would hear about him when you were in school, he is four years older than you, maybe there were some school rumours about him that you’ve heard of".

"I can barely remember my same-years’ names, i don’t think i would remember him even if i did hear stuff".

"Severus is a great person deep inside, he just doesn’t show it so often. I would suggest you to keep a good relationship with him. You may be going on some events together as the youngest teachers here."

You looked at the Potions Master. He had long black hair, dark eyes and pale skin. You turned back to Dumbledore. "Okay then, I’ll try."

At the lunch, you sat next to Severus. Unexpectedly, he talked to you. "So, you happen to be the new professor of History of Magic, am i right?"

"Yes, and you are professor Snape, if i’ve been told correct.". He hummed. "Dumbledore said that you are four years older than me so… you’re 31 and we happen to be the youn-"

Snape interrupted you. "well, so you’re 27. I thought you were older than me by your… appearance". You decided to not pay attention to his tease, because you’ll be working together and you didn’t wanna get in trouble.

The next day after lunch, Minerva asked all the professors to go to The Three Broomsticks to drink frozen butterbeer.

You were discussing with professor Flitwick and Snape about some work stuff, when Minerva approached you.

"Hello, would you like to go for some butterbeer on Saturday?"

You answered "Yeah, for sure, that’ll be lovely".

"Filius, Severus, what about you?".

"I’m sorry, Minerva, but I have to do a lot of grading till next week." answered Flitwick.

Severus mumbled: "Drinking butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks Inn… disgusting thing to do as a professor.."

McGonagall replied "Oh, well, taking sluts at the Knockturn Alley is definitely better".

"Shut up! Alright..".

You tried hard not to laugh, but a light giggle escaped your mouth.

On Saturday, you came to the Three Broomsticks where you found professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and Sprout. They greeted you and you joined them. You were drinking and talking about some stuff. After a hour and a half, Snape came up to your table. "Sorry for coming late, i was.. choosing what to wear." Minerva looked at Severus and laughed silently. "You’re wearing the same black suit that you wear everyday, Severus." He took a seat next to Albus and Pomona.

"Uhm so I began to say that when Minerva and me used to be young…" continued Dumbledore.

You get drunk quickly, so you got drunk from few cups of butterbeer. You began to fall asleep on the table.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Minerva asked concerned. You have already fell asleep.

"Albus, what should we do?" Dumbledore looked at you for few seconds, then said "Severus, can you please help miss Y/L/N get to her chambers? They are in the dungeon too."

Snape looked at the headmaster, happy on the inside that he could finally leave that place. "Yeah." Severus casted "Wingardium Leviosa" and lifted you in the air, going with you to the dungeon. Minerva mumbled "i tell you, someday this man will give mr. Filch trauma"

Soon you got in the dungeon, Severus unlocked the door to your chambers with the Alohomora spell and entered you bedroom. He slowly put you in your bed and covered you with a blanket, murmuring "hope you won’t remember that I have ever done this." and headed to his chambers.

In the morning, you woke up with a terrible headache, drank a glass of water and sat on your couch. You heard someone knocking on the door, and said "come in". Snape entered.

"is everything alright? Minerva asked me to check on you."

"yes, i think so. Uhm.. why are you checking on me if McGonagall could done this herself?"

Severus rolled his eyes and said "Because “I should keep a good relationship with you and be nice” and stuff."

"Got it."

"Also, in the evening Dumbledore asked you to come to his office." Snape was heading to the door.

"Why? Did something bad happen?"

He turned back to you and replied: "I’m not sure i can tell you, professor Y/L/N"

Severus left your chambers.

Later that day, you were going to Dumbledore’s office. You heard Albus, Severus and Minerva talking:

"Albus, trust me, we should ask her to help us! She is a powerful witch that could protect it!"

"I agree with professor Dumbledore. She is too young for that, we could manage it ourselves."

"Severus, right now we need any defence possible. It is stupid to say that everything will be alright if we won’t increase the Stone’s protection."

"SILENCE!" Shouted Dumbledore.

"She is here, professor." said Snape.

You entered Dumbledore’s office. "Good evening. I came a bit earlier but didn’t want to interrupt you."

Minerva smiled at you. "Hello, my dear. You should be wondering why you’re here."

"Yeah, kind of."

Albus said: "well, you already know that the third floor corridor on the right hand is out of bounds. Let me tell you now why. Did you heard about the Philosopher’s Stone?"

"Yes. Turns any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life"

"So, to protect it we have put it in a chamber guarded by six enchantments and creatures, provided by the professors at Hogwarts: Pomona's web of Devil's Snare; Winged Keys, charmed by Filius Flitwick; a life-size board of Wizard's Chess, transfigured and animated by Minerva McGonagall; professor Quirrell's mountain troll; professor Snape's potion riddle and Hagrid's massive three-headed dog, Fluffy, defending the trap door through which the chamber is accessed."

"And why would that stone suddenly need that protection?" You asked.

Minerva answered you before Dumbledore could say anything. "We are afraid that The Dark Lord wants to rise again."

"And that’s why he wants the Stone.."

"Yes."

Dumbledore said: "and we want you to help us protect it."

"Okay. I will think what i could do."

"Thank you so much, Y/N"

You left the office and headed to the library to do some research.

================================

Next part

Masterpost

I’m so sorry for the leak of Snape moments. In the next parts i’ll make more i promise.

Also im sorry for the mistakes i’ve made, because English is not my first language. Would love if you’ll tell me about them in the comments section.🖤

With love, M.S.

[saxamophone]

🎶 `Wireless Fic Claim

Fuck YES it's @hd-wireless reveal time and I love this fest so much. It's bangers only, all the time, every year, and I'm just happy to be here.🧍‍♀️

Thanks very much to @nv-md for the ideas/beta. A true giant among us, and the pinnacle of what fandom represents: collaboration, kindness, enthusiasm, and humor.

A big thank you to the mods! And to the readers and commenters: I love you, I love you, I love you.

And a huge shout-out to @emsuemsu for the prompt Heartbeat by Childish Gambino. Obsessed the requests to 'make it painful but in a sexy way,' 'HEA or not?', and 'all the infidelity!' This was so fun to write.

Rated E; 22k words

Tags: EWE, Eighth Year and Beyond, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Break Up, New Orleans, Southern Decadence, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Researcher Harry Potter, Angst, ALL THE ANGST, Infidelity, cheating, I'M SAYING IT AGAIN INFIDELITY

Summary:

Harry hates Draco. Draco hates Harry. Only it's not hate, not even a little bit. Featuring: a cooperative independent study, golden hour on wrecked sheets, water from fountains of dubious origin, purple Mardi Gras beads, and a bird with silly legs. Also featuring: heated arguments, infidelity, unquenchable desire, and heartbreak. Over and over again.

Read on AO3.

[bitethedustfools]

New World, New scars (pt 3)

The exam month had come. Yuu was in the living room with books and papers scattered on the table.

His injured hands, which were finally healed by a healing potion, held a pen in a strange manner, slowly dragging it across the paper, stopping for a few seconds before continuing. The hands noticeably became shakier and stiffer.

It seems that the healing potions don't heal everything. The crooked fingers are proof of that.

Still, Grim watched how Yuu struggled before the boy sighed and decided to abandon it to read the notes instead. In Grim's opinion, the writings were pleasing to his eyes, and he could understand them in one glance in comparison to the scrawling from before.

It goes without a doubt that Yuu was very smart and also hardworking. Even that two-toned haired teacher praised Yuu, occasionally giving him candies.

Grim looked at Yuu's hands and decided that he didn't want Yuu to ruin their first exam, so Grim would take the lead. They both are, after all, two-in-one student. It would be awful if Yuu didn't manage to score anything with those hands.

-

Grim noticed Yuu roaming around the room where he was at like a ghost haunting the place. Yuu usually doesn't stay in the same room, and if he does, he usually tries to erase his presence.

So therefore, him hovering around and gazing at him from a certain distance became annoying.

"What are you movin around for? You're botherin me," Grim huffed, looking away from the notes he obtained from a certain someone.

Yuu kept looking at him nervously, his sweat dripping and fidgeting with his fingers lightly.

"Are you sure you're going to do the exam instead of me...? I can do it," Yuu said softly, almost carefully.

"No! I can do it. I'm not that dumb! If anythin, you're goin to make us fail with those hands of yours."

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

Grim saw Yuu glanced at his hands for a short moment before hiding them behind his back, expression down as though he's shameful.

"So sit down! I'm gonna ace this exam all by myself!" Grim huffed once more after he said those words as if it would calm Yuu down.

-

Despite not doing anything troublesome like the exam, Yuu grew even more nerve-wracking just watching by the sidelines, fearing that Grim would mess it up, to which Grim assured confidently and exasperatedly that he won't.

His confidence only soared higher when he received high scores and he shoved it to Yuu, who flinched at the sudden action.

Grim dismissed it. After all, he did a very good job of it, so Yuu will definitely be impressed by it, so he held it up with pride.

"85...?" Yuu's voice trembled, and his eyes widened with horror. Grim heard Yuu mumbling from underneath his breath how the teacher won't accept this and will be angry.

Yuu began to shed tears when he saw Ace's and Deuce's marks but not from happiness as he expected. His expression looked frightened and alarmed.

"Hey, it's closer to 100. That's fine, isn't it?" said Ace, trying to comfort Yuu, who is not participating in the exam yet was unusually upset at their marks. "That's not a terrible mark at all!"

"Yes, it is... Master Crewel is going to get angry..." said Yuu with certainty and fear.

Grim thought that the three of them definitely have the same idea in mind at that time, but none spoke them out loud.

-

Contrary to Yuu's words, Professor Crewel does not punish them, but he does look at them all suspiciously.

And now, it's their turn to be scared. Grim didn't expect that all of them actually made a deal with Azul, that scammer!

Upon learning of this fact, Yuu's expression turned to be even more horrified. He hugged himself, and he began to bite the flesh between the thumb and the wrist, almost piercing through them and drawing blood.

Yuu seemed to be in his own world that his words became incoherent, but some managed to understand a few of what he's saying.

"Cheating, lies, not allowed, punished, beaten, angry, apologize..."

A story formed in their head in an instant, but Grim doesn't understand why they would get beaten for that alone?

His question remained unanswered because everyone who managed to strike a deal with Azul sprouted an anemone on top of their head and began to march to the Octavinelle dorm.

Yuu, despite trembling like a shaky leaf, remained still amongst the moving crowd, looking hesitant, as though he will end up in a terrible situation if he followed them.

-

Grim, Ace, and Deuce didn't see Yuu that much after they started working in the Mostro Lounge. Grim did meet Yuu at the dorm, but he hardly gave any attention and just dropped on the spot and snooze.

He had never worked so hard in his entire life, and that made Grim think that it's not worth making a deal with the devil.

But then he thought of the reason why he accepted, and he can only grumble loudly as his tiny paws washed yet another dirty dish.

Surely... this isn't as hard as...

He yowled as the water splashed on his face.

-

They met again during lunch after who knows how long, but Grim is exhausted that time seemed to blend together. The same thing goes for Ace and Deuce as they all dragged their feet to find their table, resisting the urge to sleep.

Yuu, who is somehow accompanied by a very decent Savanaclaw student by the name of Jack, easily spotted them and carefully sat right next to them. His eyes flitted across all three expressions as though he's looking for something, only to slacken the tension in his shoulders.

It did not last long when the Leeches twins invited themselves in, but Grim no longer took notice of this the moment the twins suggested that there is a way for them to be free.

Yuu needed to make a deal with Azul.

It did not last a minute; Yuu buckled instantly under their pleadings to save them. They all cheered, ignoring Jack scolding them.

"You know, for the first time, I think I'm ready to recognize you as our prefect," said Grim, feeling elated at Yuu for the first time.

The smile on Yuu's face immediately went strained, and his gaze was lowered. Grim saw his still injured fingers clenched tightly on his pants as though it wasn't hurt days ago.

"I'm... glad I'm useful," Yuu said.

Maybe Grim should have shut his mouth.

-

Grim still stayed on the bed, and Yuu on the floor.

Grim slept to the scent of salt and the quiet sobbings accompanying the cold night.

-

Grim sneaked out of the kitchen to the VIP room on the day Yuu came to make a deal, a trail of wet spots formed on the carpet as he made his way over there.

He heard voices, and he, who at first wanted to recklessly barge in, suddenly out of character, stopped to lean on the door so he could listen in.

"...You see, prefect, my understanding is that you have no innate magical power." Came Azul's voice.

"You're not gifted with a beautiful voice, nor are you heir to any kingdom. You also do not possess any outstanding and useful skills. You're an utterly run-of-the-mill human in every possible way. Considering the big ask you're making of me, I would need considerable collateral."

It was insults, no matter how many different angles and how many times he tried to listen. If it was Grim whom Azul had told that face to face, he would no doubt be blown up with rage and yell back.

However, Yuu only replied with two words, spoken softly and without stuttering as though he had known that a long time ago and had long accepted it.

"I know."

-

Since Yuu had put the ramshackle dorm as collateral, they both were kicked out of their only shelter into the cold night.

Ace, Deuce, and even Jack offered to help them. The Adeuce insisted Yuu go with them instead of Jack; after all, Jack is from Savanaclaw, and Yuu and that dorm don't mix well together.

Except that didn't happen.

Yuu followed Jack, and he let Grim follow Ace and Deuce.

-

His sleep that night was filled with snores, the rustling of someone moving in their sleep, and a faint smell of roses that was enough not to irritate his nose.

It felt strange that Yuu was not here.

He was awake for hours and he doesn't remember what time it was when he had fallen asleep.

-

Grim does not know what happened to Yuu that same night. But the next day, he spotted bruises blooming all over Yuu's body that Grim suspected some of his ribs might have broken. There were also a few band-aids here and there, and even the face was not spared.

Grim suddenly went mad over this, yelling at Jack, who followed Yuu guiltily. Even Ace and Deuce joined as well, occasionally scolding Yuu lightly for even choosing the place where most students beat him up.

"I'm sorry... I... didn't want to bother you," Yuu murmured, the injuries making him look even more pathetic.

Their anger didn't last long upon seeing this and told him to come to their dorm instead.

Yuu merely shook his head, "I won... fair and square. I'll do my part well."

Nobody knows what he meant by this.

-

They cornered Jack when he's alone after their attempted to steal the photograph failed.

"What does Yuu mean?"

"Why is he hurt like that?"

"What did you do?"

Plenty of accusations were thrown at him that Jack's stern expression twisted into something complicated.

What left his mouth only stunned them even more.

In exchange to live there, Yuu had to be a gopher and also fight and win. And win he did, even as his body is blue and black and his form is close to a deathbed.

There's no benefit in living there and winning said fight if being beaten up and being a gopher awaited him there.

Grim was right when he said that Yuu was a coward and an idiot.

A coward because Yuu cannot say no so he does what Leona said and an idiot for not realizing that there's nothing good that will bring to him in that place.

-

Despite everything, Yuu still went there.

But Grim supposed that there's another reason why he needed to get what Azul wanted to get the ramshackle dorm back.

-

Yuu came up with a plan on the last day when everyone is starting to lose hope. It was simple. Too simple just like the time he came up with in the Dwarf mine, yet it proved to be effective.

The day they initiated the plan also went smoothly that not even the closed museum could ever obstructed said plan with the help of Ace.

Grim rather liked a smart Yuu rather than an idiot, but it is too bad that this showcase of intelligence is very limited and not available most of the time.

But it was on this very same day that Grim realized just how truly smart Yuu is.

Grim had learned Yuu had done something to Leona for him to join his plan, a second plan that no one in the group knows. Yuu and the rest were simply bait, but who would have thought that both plans succeeded anyway.

Grim wondered why it's only time like this that Yuu started to take the lead when he's usually the one who is following and endured.

-

Azul overbloated after that; his lower half became that of an octopus and Grim thought that everything can be handled since they've beaten Riddle and Leona before.

This proved to be a bit difficult seeing as Azul had stolen half of their magic and used it against them. Offensive and defensive, he had it all much to Grim's displeasure.

Azul, just like Leona before, reached out to Yuu with one of those octopus legs the moment his eyes laid on him. Eyes dilated with anger and hatred, only to replace with malicious glee when he caught Yuu who stood still like a sacrifice.

Again with that.

Grim thought he imagined it last time but he really did it again.

Yuu cried and gasped for air as Azul choked the life out of him while everyone is screaming for his name.

Grim thought Yuu hated being beaten up, thought he's scared of it.

So why is he smiling?

-

Grim never got his answer, feeling quite lost and confused with how Yuu acted. The others seemed to know, seemed to understand what Yuu is thinking even if it's just snippets.

But Grim is not as smart as Yuu, so Grim could never understand what goes through Yuu's mind.

The moment the monster got defeated, Grim quickly ate the black magestone the monster left behind to distract himself.

Yuu was currently knocked out cold on the floor, surrounded by his friends who have disheveled appearances. No doubt, they will scold him when he woke up later.

-

They did scold him when he regained consciousness.

Yuu apologized pathetically and said that he was scared he couldn't move his feet. He shed tears and trembled upon being stared upon.

But that's not what Grim saw earlier. Yet, he kept his mouth shut anyway.

[phoebe-delia]

The Family We Choose

Okay. So. I got very emo because of this post from @xx-thedarklord-xx. And then I got all the feels from @littlewinnow's INCREDIBLE art for it. And it got me thinking about what it must've been like for Hagrid to meet baby Scorp. And just. This happened.

"Hagrid, this is Scorpius Fleamont Potter." Harry gently places the little bundle in Hagrid's waiting arms.

Hagrid brings the child up close to his chest. "Oh, look at yeh," he murmurs. "Such a wee one. He's got yer eyes, Harry."

Draco chuckles softly. "Yes, he does. And my hair, luckily for him."

Harry wraps his arm around Draco. "He got the best of us both, I think."

Hagrid gazes in wonder at the baby in his arms; the chubby cheeks, the wide green eyes, the fine blond hair on his soft head.

Hagrid feels his eyes well up, and he tries to hold back his tears; he should wait to be a blubbering mess when there's not a baby in his arms, but he can't help it. He sniffs and tries not to let the overwhelming happiness in his chest take him over entirely.

When he glances back up at Harry and Draco, they're looking at him with joy and fondness; particularly Harry, who appears as close to tears as Hagrid feels himself.

"Hagrid," Harry starts, "Draco and I wanted you to be among the first on staff to meet Scorpius. And, well...We also wanted to say thank you."

Hagrid's breath catches. "Ter thank meh? Wha' for?"

"For everything," Harry shrugs. "For being part of the reason I'm here—and that Scorp is here."

"And for your great capacity for forgiveness," Draco says quietly. "I can't imagine I'd have lasted long here as a professor if not for your generosity and empathy."

Hagrid can't hold back the tears now. He looks back down at Scorpius and then at Harry and Draco. "Neither of yeh needs ter thank meh."

"We wanted to," Harry says. "And—to introduce you to your future apprentice here, of course."

Draco raises an eyebrow. "What makes you think he won't be a potions master?"

Harry shrugs. "Nothing, only that potions is a miserable subject for miserable twats."

Draco swats at his arm. "Is that any way to talk about your husband's career?"

Harry grins and rubs at his arm. "I suppose I deserved that."

"Too right you did," Draco grumbles. Harry snickers and pulls Draco closer, pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

Hagrid begins to tune out the bickering couple and looks back at Scorpius, who coos in his arms. The child is absolutely perfect; and better than that, he's safe. He's loved. And he always will be.

[lostinforestbound]

Can I ask for HCs of Rolan with a partner who's big on surprising him with gifts? Not the 'getting him the most expensive and lavish stuff' but the 'takes notes of all the stuff he likes and gifts it to him even without any big occasion' kind

YES YES YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! This idea is so sweet and I am in desperate need for Rolan fluff!

Giving Gifts to Rolan

Rolan, outside of Cal and his mother, never receives gifts from anyone. When he became the new master of Ramazith's tower, he was given gifts by the people in celebration. Potions, Tapestries, all these lavish things he never cared for. He usually puts them in a closet and forgets about them.

When Tav and him finally get together officially, he's not sure how to react when they start giving him gifts out of nowhere. He's confused by it even; why would they get him something out of nowhere? What did he do to deserve it? He didn't earn this.

He will start reciprocating, giving gifts in response to the ones he's receiving. Surely they're expecting something back? He would be a fool to not try and match them, but gift giving isn't something he's good at.

When Tav eventually asks why he's also getting them gifts, and he responds with "well, it's a nice exchange, is it not?" and they'll quickly realize that this man thought he had to give something back every time.

They explain that this is their love language. They love giving him gifts, without expecting anything in return. He immediately asks why if he hasn't earned it: "Well, I love you, and I love getting you things. It makes me feel good to see you happy."

He doesn't argue it further, but it still feels strange to him. Though he can't deny his heart flutters a little when they get him something thoughtful, like an item he was looking at in the market and they got it for him in secret.

Some gifts he ends up loving: Magic books (despite his infinite library in the tower), peerless focus elixirs, a sweet baked treat, horn jewelry, earrings, new robes, nice smelling shampoos for his hair, and facial care ointments.

What he would find so sweet (or funny depending on context) is the certain gifts coming with enchantments on them. He loves having small magical items in collections. Earrings that give him a boost in charisma, rings of protection, and scarfs that keep him extra warm in the cold months.

Funnier magical items he has received thus far: Sweater of Calming, a Ring of Rock Eating, Seal of Approval, Book of Mispells, Cookie of Hunger, and a Giggle Dagger.

Sometimes they give it to him directly, but he's always delighted to see when wrap it in a bow or they put it in a little box on his desk. It makes it a little extra special and he adores it. It's an instant mood lifter for him!

It takes him a while to realize his tail visibly flicks about happily when he sees that he got another gift. Tav never says a thing when they see it since they find it both adorable and endearing. The secret is revealed only when Cal and Lia tease him about it, and now he actively tries to control his tail.

Rolan starts responding to the gifts again, but in his own way outside of gift giving: spending time with them, cooking them breakfast or dinner, setting up more romantic dates, and anything he can to show he appreciates them. That he loves them dearly, and they are the true gift to him.

[himegureisu]

Hello! So, l've read your mini mail series and I was wondering if you could write a oneshot where reader sends Snape a long black scarf with their initials on the first day of school as she was away when he left?

Scarves and Hearts

A/N: Yes, I'm here switching fandoms because I'm stuck on the other one. It's about time also that I did this. I hope you like it!

——————————— 🪄———————————

It was the first breakfast of the first day in Hogwarts.

Their students, sorted and seated, at their respective tables provided lively background noise in contrast to the polite conversations at the High Table. On his right, the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore has been talking but he didn’t register the words.

No, he’s been surly ever since your absence this morning.

Your side of the bed was cold, breakfast cooked, and a note on the pillow about why you were gone. There were times he hated your job more than his. This was one of those times.

“Oh,” the newest Weasley addition to Gryffindor, Ronald, or Ron, said, accompanied by the hoots of owls flying in, “The mail’s here,”

His mood quickly changes at the sight of your owls together, carrying a present in silver wrapper and silk green ribbon, a note attached, as they land in front of him, and read.

I’m sorry I missed the start of the term. I hope that this’ll keep you warm in my absence.

I love you always.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, Dumbledore and McGonagall’s attention caught by the sound of rustling paper to see their Potion’s Professor unraveling a very soft and thick crocheted scarf in green and silver.

On one end, instead of the Slytherin House Crest, there was the shape of your shared patronus. On the other end, at the front side were his initials, on the back, surprisingly, were yours.

“That’s a lovely scarf there, Severus,” Minerva commented, from the other side of the headmaster who said, “A work of love,”

“Yes, it is,” he paused, admiring your work, “Very lovely indeed,”

From a distance, at Gryffindor Table, the Weasleys, Granger, and Potter huddle closer as Ron briefly glances at the High Table, where Severus starts to pack the scarf, and asks.

“What do you reckon of that?” he observes, his head of house, the headmaster, and his hated professor amicably talking, “Do you think it’s a woman?”

“I can’t even imagine,” Harry frowns, at the sight of Professor McGonagall giving them a look, “Someone at the Professor’s side,”

“There could be,” Hermione carefully says, as the boys suddenly look her way, “You never know. What Professor Snape may be to us could be different to any other person,”

“We honestly don’t know,” George adds their two cents on the matter, as he observes the Potions’ Master leave, “But what we do know is that whenever like that comes he’s much more tolerable to be around with,”

“Truly?” Ron turns to his brothers, and Fred nods, “Yeah, you’ll know if he reduces homework by a page, or deducts fewer house points than usual,”

“I guess we’ll find out later then,” Hermione remarks, as the bell rings throughout the castle, and ushers Harry and Ron to stand. “Time to go,”

Their second class was Potions and, in this case, the Weasley twins were right. There was less a page of parchment on their essay and he didn’t insult Hermione when she interjected to answer the question no one wanted to.

In time, when the first snowfall arrives at one of the Hogsmeade weekends’, the Potion’s Master could be seen wearing the scarf he’d received in the mail months before adding a splash of color to his usual black robes, bearing an almost happy facade. His initials on the front, and yours on the back, hidden and kept near to his heart.

[sleepingdeath-light]

comforting his s/o during their period hcs ; howl pendragon

requested by ; anonymous (23/02/23)

fandom(s) ; howl’s moving castle / studio ghibli films

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; howl pendragon

outline ; “hii! im a new blog on tumblr, and i really love studio ghibli! :D this is my first request- and so could i request howl, haku, and san comforting reader who's on her period ! ty <3”

note ; changed this from a fem reader to a gender neutral reader so that anyone who has periods can read this

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

earlier on in your relationship howl… well he wasn’t the ideal person to go to if you needed or wanted help or any sort of emotional support when it came to your cycle

like yes he’d offer you potions and spells to ease your pain (as much as he hated to admit it, he did genuinely care for you and didn’t want to see you in agony all day) but otherwise he tended to avoid you entirely unless he needed to speak to you

he’d leave you to clean up after yourself, discourage you from talking about your symptoms, and just let you handle everything yourself — you’d be fine on your own, he reasoned, so he was fine to go off and do whatever it was he usually did when you were too busy to join him

but once he started to mature as a person and outgrew his more selfish tendencies, howl became an incredibly loving and attentive partner — both in general and specifically when it came to your periods

he makes sure to stock up on everything you’ll need well in advance of your period coming, masters more mild versions of heat and cold spells to offer more specific support for your aches and pains, and learns how to wash blood out of fabric so that he can just focus on taking care of you without having to rely on your guidance for simple things when you should be resting

(even if he’s still not the most comfortable with blood — he just reminds himself that he’s doing it for you and pushes through that discomfort with the reassurance that he’s earning your appreciation and affection by doing all of this)

really he does whatever he can to make sure you’re as comfortable and as stress-free as possible throughout your period — taking your advice and suggestions to heart so that he can be the best partner, and the best person in general, that he can be

whether that means running you a bath and lighting your favourite scented candles, going out to the nearest market and buying you whatever food you’re craving, or sitting in bed and cuddling with you until you fall asleep, howl is more than happy to do it if only you ask

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Skilled Hands (Obey Me!) fic

content: Solomon X reader. NSFW. Established relationship, romance, fluff, mature subject of sexual intimacy and making love.

Solomon was doing this on purpose. He had to be doing this on purpose. Using those sculpted hands to gesture and trace over what the two of you were working on. Solomon had insisted that both of you should focus on your magic studies today. Which you did want to work on as his apprentice. Yet you found everything he was doing completely distracting. Watching as he spoke of tending to magic tools or writing spell scrolls or such. Wanting him to be using those lips to kiss you instead of ramble. Wanting those hands against your skin instead of tinkering with various equipment. Wishing to scent his musk instead of potion ingredients and old paper.

After three hours of this slow and aggravating torture, you broke. Solomon ended up turning after setting his tools down to find you right in front of him. Tears in the corner of your eyes for him to frown in concern. So you took both his hands and leaned in for a kiss. One that was demanding and hungry. Which had Solomon chuckle into for you to part for air. His smirk one of coy amusement. "My my. It would seem you were quite distracted. Yet you held out for this long? What a considerate apprentice you are. But a very naughty student." Solomon leaned close to whisper in your ear. "Should I make you beg of me to worship you in all the ways I know? Or might I let you ravage me senseless to be left stripped and vulnerable to my beloved soul? Either way, the choice is yours."

You gave a full shudder to grip Solomon's hands tight. Those tears falling as you admitted you couldn't make up your mind out of pure overload. It hurt to have so much want and need that you gave a sniffle of noise. So Solomon gave you gentle kisses and soft touches to your face to coax you all the closer. His fingers did their work with effortless and tender care. Stripping you of your coverings as magic soaked the room. Locking doors and windows to alight the room with small colorful flames that hung in the air. Solomon whispered in Greek against your lips to soon have both of you naked. Those hands soon resting against your heart for him to purr in sheer delight. "Such thunder. Such molten heat. Honor me with your love and make us one."

Solomon spent the entire time the two of you made love smiling. His words and touches tickling your skin as you did much the same. Tasting and teasing to deepen the dance of this blissful union. The passing thought of how long Solomon has had to master this art of love soon tumbling away as he washed joy and pleasure over you and through you. Kissing away what tears fell when you got overstimulated to switch things to ensure your delight. The both of you open in all vulnerability in the age old song of loving and making love. Until the both of you lay in his bed to be covered in sweat. Solomon letting you use him for a snuggle pillow to be trying to catch his breath. Your head to his heart to savor how that drumming was full of strength and life. The pace racing and heated as Solomon started to laugh. His hands soon reaching up to cradle you close to that thunder in his caged ribs for him to keep laughing. "Ah. So this is what father meant when he wrote of love for my mother. Yes. Something I will savor for eons to come. My beloved apprentice. You leave me spellbound."

The former king soon lifts you up to place a few kisses to your face. His joy having him trill a happy sound before he speaks. "Methinks we might use a specific spell to craft a heated tub of water and some other things to get cleaned up in here. Wouldn't want the angels to smite us for having such revelry."

[theyanderespecialist]

Stolas's Trans Man (Headcanons) Yandere Stolas X Trans Man Reader/Listener

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another chapter this is another pride month one, with Yandere Stolas x Trans Man you/Reader/Listener (And I am going to make him a goetia more info in the disclaimer) I hope that you all enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer 1: for those who do not know a bird has a cloaca. Meaning that they have one hole for everything, poo, pee, and reproductive holes! Since you were afab you can lay eggs (until your transition. Just telling you, so you know what you are working with. Your periods also consist of you laying smaller eggs. Yes, a period can be worse than what we have for uterus havers on Earth! Anyways let's do this! 

Disclaimer 2: Stolas is not yandere in canon, but he is a gay man in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it, yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! thank you, and happy Pride! Trans Rights are human rights, and trans men are men!) 

-Headcanons With Yandere Stolas X Trans Male Reader- 

.Stolas was now exploring his sexuality with Blitz, but he did not know he would catch feelings for another Goetia. 

.You were around a decade younger than him, in your early twenties and you just came out to your parents. 

.The whole Goetia family laughed about it so you were staying away from them as much as possible. 

.Stolas and you met at the divorce party Stella forced him to go to. 

.He had never felt this way before not even for Blitzy! 

.He would be talking with you and notice that you have a lot of chest feathers. 

.When he learns that yes you are a trans man, it makes sense. 

.He is very happy to take you under his wing and promises you that he will help you become the man you always wanted to be. 

.He just wants you close and he wants to make you happy, and at this point, he does not give a fuck about what his ex-wife thinks. 

.His first love with Blitz has failed so he is not going to be ready to hope into something new. 

.But he does help guide you through it.

.Such as helping you pluck your chest feathers that are too much. Not to mention any other feathers that would need to be molted off once you are that far on T.

.He would also kind of be a sugar daddy for you, helping you pay for all your testosterone and surgeries, not to mention anything else that you would need. 

.He is also a master in potion making so he would make you potions to help you with your transition as well. 

.Being very supportive of you and help you where he can. 

.Of course the more you become a man the more it does things to and for him. 

.It goes from being a older person in the Goetia to being a man that wanted you, another man. 

.Once he realizes this he becomes more and more nervous. 

.What if you do not like him? What if you think lowly of him like Blitz did? 

.He is a yandere who is so insecure and has so much anxiety. 

.Though he is protective, he can go from worrywart to downright terrifying. 

.Most people forget how powerful Stolas Is, and how dangerous he is. 

.He would deal with rivals pretty much by either turning them to stone or even straight-up torturing them, maybe even feeding those rivals to his plants. 

.He is a big romantic and would have to sit down to ask if you wanted kids with him. 

.Since you were AFAB he knows that is a choice if you want to have an egg or two with him before you have bottom surgery. 

.He does not need to have kids with you, he is also okay with adoption. 

.The only thing that matters to him is you. 

.Very protective and loving and just wants you to be you and to make you happy! 

.So he would do everything to make sure that you feel like the man you are. 

.He is also the type of yandere partner that would let you put a strap on and have your way with him. 

.He will make you feel like a man in and out of the bedroom. 

.He does a LOT of gender-affirming things for you that is a fact. 

.Also if anyone misgenders you, he will throw his status and power around, and be like "Do we have a problem!" 

.He is a yandere who tries to make sure that everything is perfect. 

.When he finally does confess to you it is a big grand thing. 

.If you accept this love he will have you fully move in (you were pretty much already living there.) so that he and you can start a life together~ 

.If that does not happen he will be heartbroken and push you away, he cannot see that beautiful smile and know that you do not feel the same. 

.He will still support you but he would be hurt, of course, his yandere side is not going to let you be with anyone else. 

.If he cannot have you then no one can, and that is that!] 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done, I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy! All of my sexy muffins!] 

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 24: Popcorn, sandalwood, and tulips

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Fluff / so much goo-y ness [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You and Theo stand at the back of the potions classroom listening to the new Potions Master. You're surprised you could take the class at N.E.W.T. level. You're not rubbish at potions, but to say you're great at it is a wild overstatement.

Theo leans closer to you, his eyes still trained on Professor Slughorn. "Will you come to the tryouts tomorrow?" As he whispers into your ear, his lips graze your ear shell and you get goosebumps.

You nod, trying to calm down your racing heart and the heath racing to your face. "Sure. I'm delighted to sit in the rain." You mask your shyness with a teasing smile.

Theo gives you a faux annoyed look. "I will personally give you my umbrella."

"Oh, the sacrifices we make for the people we love."

Both Theo and you look at each other with wide eyes at your words. Snapping your eyes towards the cauldrons at the front of the classroom, you ignore your heart which feels like it's running out of your chest. When you glance back at Theo you see that his entire face and neck are brightly red. 

But between the both of you, you don't deny any of it. 

Slughorn excitedly drones on about the potions he has prepared for the class until two new students barge into the classroom. Harry and Ron. Harry's hair is slightly longer than last year but other than that he hasn't changed much over the summer.

Your eyes meet and you shrink down. You don't know how to feel about him after last year. Yes, you've kissed but you regret it as it was a moment of weakness. And you're with Theo now. Wait... are you? What are you exactly?

You follow the two boys as they grab some spare textbooks from the cupboard, watching them struggle for some reason.

Something pushes against your arm and you snap your head around, looking at Theo. "Sorry?", you question, not having heard his question

"Do you smell that?", he repeats, his brows raised.

You shake your head and turn towards the potion, your textbook clutched tightly in your hands. You take a deep sniff as something sweet hits your nostrils. At first, it is sweet until it transforms into all different kinds of things.

You eye the shiny concoction. Amortentia. "What do you smell?" You think you're clever, asking him first so you have some time to figure things out.

Theo hums and breathes the air in deeply. "I smell First snow, new books, an- and the sea..."

When he asked you to the Yule Ball, the first time you've hung out outside of school, and the vacation home of the Nott's.

You decide to bite the bullet and admit what you're smelling. "Popcorn, sandalwood, and... tulips."

The film date, the cologne that clings to Theo's being, and the flowers he left on your nightstand at the hospital.

Both your eyes meet each other, eyes wide and cheeks flared up. Theo's neck starts to blotch up. His eyes flicker over your face, from your eyes to your lips. But when Slughorn gives the class the go to do the practical, the two of you snap out of your little dream state and move towards the potion stations.

You sit in the common room, lounging around and reading a book when you spot Draco making his way towards the entrance. He glances over his shoulders to see if he's being followed before the door closes behind him.

Not trusting him, you jump up from the couch and trail him. You follow him through the winding halls and up never-ending stairs. Once you spot him stopping in front of a familiar tapestry, you know where he is going.

Not hurrying after him, you watch him conjure up a door and slip inside. Slowly, you walk towards the wall and close your eyes. I need to go to the place Draco just went. 

A sound like stones grinding against each other makes you open your eyes. The same door that Draco managed to make appear.

Inside is an endless room with stuff and junk and lost things. A broken record gives the room an eerie vibe. You spot Draco down a path that is cleared through towering high furniture.

"What are you doing?", you ask in a whisper once he has removed the dusty covering from a strange... cupboard?

He wips around and pulls his wand to you. His chest heaves up and down and his eyes are blown wide. "How did you get in here?", he hisses, looking behind you. Probably to see if someone followed after you. 

You walk closer to the cabinet, inspecting it. As you reach for the handle, Draco's cold hand stops you.

"Don't", he whispers, looking scared. 

You know that look. It's the same look he had when he received his mission from the Dark Lord. You knit your brows together and lower your hand. "What is your plan?"

Draco turns away, his hands balled and nails digging into his palm. "It's a Vanishing Cabinet. Its pair is situated in Borgin and Burkes. But they're broken."

"So you're fixing them to get the... others into the school?"

Your cousin's silence answers your question. You quietly curse under your breath. It's an insane plan that's not likely to succeed. "What are your backup plans?"

He scoffs, turning around before back to you. "What do you care? It's not like you were there."

"What do you want to hear? That I am selfish? That I should have come home? So my mo- Bellatrix could torture me again? Yes. That is my fault!" You run a hand over your face and sigh. "You know what? I am late for tryouts. Just... talk to me before you do something stupid, okay?"

You walk out of the Room of Requirement annoyed at your cousin's behaviour and once you finally sit down in the stands, you're double annoyed because you had to walk all the way from the seventh floor to the dungeons to then climb up the Quidditch spectator stands.

Cold and wet, you curtly tie a scarf around your neck. You sit slumped down with your arms over each other as it starts to lightly rain. Looking around, you don't notice that it has stopped raining above you.

Theo hovers a few inches away from you on his broom, umbrella in hand. He sends you a boyish smile and cocks his head to the side. "Is that my scarf?"

You look down and touch the soft wool of said scarf. "Oh... I didn't even realise... You dropped it last year and I haven't had the chance to give it back to you." 

As you move to untie Theo's scarf, his hand stops you. "Don't. It looks good on you."

A shy smile grows on your face. You take the umbrella out of his hands before he has to fly back towards the pitch as the tryout is about to start.

You watch him soar through the sky, scoring the Quaffle multiple times in the pretend matches. Every time he does so, you jump up and cheer his name. 

Unexpectedly, you actually had fun. Because before you realise it, the tryouts are over. You rush down the stairs and into the pitch. With a big smile, you run towards Theodore and jump into his arm.

"You made it! I am so proud of you!" You squish his face between both of your hands and press a kiss against each of his mushed-up cheeks. Theo has a love-struck smile on his face once you let go of him.

“You know”, he smiles once it is only you and him on the pitch, his broom in hands, “you've promised me that I would see you play Quidditch one day.”

You cock your head to the side playfully. “When did I do that?”

Theo shrugs. “Fourth year.”

“You remember that?!”

He laughs. "I remember so much of you, you would be surprised."

You take his hand in yours, pulling him towards the castle. "Well then. You can tell me all about the thing you've supposedly remembered about me after a shower. You stink."

He pouts and you laugh. After all, the rain and cold weren't that bad in retrospect.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @mythicalamphitrite @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Four: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, Happy Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore had a bet, bed sharing, sappy Snape

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 2066

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

The black dog stared down the potion’s master, teeth still barred, a deep growl still coming from the back of its throat. The dog jumped off the bed and transformed back into a human. Sirius Black was standing right beside the bed, an angry look on his face as he glowered at Severus.

“Why in the bloody hell were you playing tonsil tennis with my dovey?” Sirius demanded his question be answered.

“I believe that is between her and I, Black,” Severus deadpanned at the now free man.

“That was not the question, Snivellus.” That was when Y/N finally spoke up.

“Still a rotten bastard aren’t you Siri? If you want to be rude to Severus, you can excuse yourself and get out of my sight. Thank you!” She told him in a sweet tone, finishing it off with a smile. Sirius had faltered for a moment, not expecting her to defend Severus so quickly. 

“Godric, relax. I won’t be rude anymore. I just want to talk, alone preferably,” Sirius explained. Severus looked at Y/N to see what she had wanted to do, when she gave him a slight nod he knew she would be okay and could handle herself. He pecked her forehead before getting out of the bed, brushing past Sirius.

“You even think about raising your voice or hurting her, I will kill you,” Sirius muttered to the man as he passed. Severus brushed off his comment and continued walking, only turning back to make sure she was okay before continuing out the door. He stood with Remus and Harry, the two chatting, pausing when Severus came out of the hospital wing. He stood at the edge of the doorway, keeping a close eye on Y/N as she spoke to Sirius for the first time in 12 years.

“So you and Snape, that’s like a thing now?” Sirius asked her, an underlying tone of teasing and interest in his voice.

“It’s a thing now, yes. He’s been there for me for the last 12 years when I had nobody. I was just left with a one year old and I was alone, for the first time in my life, I was alone,” Y/N explained.

“What do you mean alone? Where was Remus during all of this?”

“He left, I hadn’t heard from him until he became a professor here this year. Imagine my surprise when Harry got attacked by a dementor and he mentions Lupin, I just about had a heart attack.”

“Do you want me to go fuck him up? I will. Just say the word, dovey, and I’ll go,” Sirius said, his voice angry.

“No, I just want to sit and talk, catch up a bit. I’ve missed you as much as I hate to admit it. You’re my brother, you always will be.” So that was what the two did, they sat for hours chatting about everything and anything. Severus was still waiting at the edge of the doorway, Remus and Harry had left a while ago to go get some food for everybody. Even whilst eating, the two friends were still talking, reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts with all of their friends and before everything went to shit. They talked about James and Lily and they had even talked about Severus due to the request of Sirius. 

The sun had set long ago, Sirius had ended up falling asleep in a chair next to her bed, Severus coming back in, bringing her some of her favorite chocolates. “Thank you honey. You didn’t have to bring me anything,” She smiled at the broody man before opening some up to eat them, offering them to Severus who gladly took one.

“Of course I did. You were stuck with Black all day, you need a little pick me up after that,” He joked lightly, causing her to let out a giggle. “I have a question for you, you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to of course, I’m just a bit curious.”

“What’s your question?”

“Why does everyone call you ‘dove’? Pettigrew did, your brother did, Lupin does and so does Black. Why?”

“I’m an animagus, which I know you’re aware of because unlike my brother and our friends, I am a registered animagus. My animagus form is a dove, hence the nickname,” She explained.

“A dove makes a lot of sense. Peace, freedom and love.”

“I will say I am a very loving person, not so sure about peaceful but loving, yes,” She chuckled. Severus hummed in agreement, a pensive look washing over his features, Y/N taking note of it. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“A lot, like always.” He had evaded her question knowing that she would ask again and try to get the answer out of him. Of course he would give her the answer but he wanted her to ask again just to hear her talk.

“Anything in particular jump out at you or would you rather stay mysterious?” She had joked lightly, not expecting him to take the bait.

“You, that's what jumps out at me. Just, you and the amount of care and love you show the people around you. The love and care you show me.” Her heart was a puddle at her feet by this point, she had never felt so admired and loved in such a long time that she could barely form a sentence. “I admire you, Y/N Potter. I admire your intelligence, your courage, your bravery, I admire your beauty, your compassion, your love. I admire everything about you, love.” A tear had dripped down her cheek, Severus becoming concerned and Y/N noticing the look on his face changing. His hand came to rest on her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear gently.

“Happy tears, honey. They’re happy tears,” She clarified, as if reading the man’s mind. She knew what he was thinking just by the look on his face. “I admire everything about you, honey. Even though you are a hard ass, I admire everything about you.” She had gotten out of bed, standing in front of the man before embracing him. She noticed that Sirius had awoken and was watching the two of them, he just threw a wink her way and closed his eyes again. 

“Should we continue where we left off before we were rudely interrupted by your man-dog?” Severus asked her. She let out a giggle before nodding, their lips meeting once again. The same dizzying feeling came back to her, Severus feeling as if he was on fire. 

The two were once again interrupted just as the kiss was getting a little heated, this time it was Minerva and Albus. “I don’t think this is what Poppy meant by bed rest Y/N,” Minerva teased. Her face got hot as she hid herself against Severus. The man’s chest vibrating with a chuckle, making Y/N whine.

“Don’t laugh! You were the one that suggested it!” She smacked his chest which caused a full body laugh to come from him. She tried fighting to laughing along but she lost that fight rather quickly. 

“I’m glad you’re better Y/N, Poppy mentioned that you could return to your quarters tonight if you were able to walk around. Which obviously you can, seeing the position you and Severus were in when we had arrived. Have a lovely night you two. Oh and before I forget, Minerva, you owe me ten galleons,” Albus spoke, his voice having a teasing lilt to it, mischief shining in his eyes behind his glasses. The woman whined again, smacking her forehead into Severus’ chest. Minerva and Albus both letting out a chuckle at the couple in front of them.

“The whole school is going to know before break is over knowing you two old bats. You and your gossip,” Severus teased as the two older professors left the hospital wing, Minerva handing Albus the ten galleons she owed him. “I can’t believe they bet on us, I wonder what the bet was about.”

“I know Fred and George are betting too, they wanted to see how long it would take us to get together. Too bad Fred lost, said it would never happen. Minnie and Albus probably bet on a time frame or something,” Y/N thought aloud. She heard a snicker come from the chair where Sirius was ‘sleeping’. She sent a small blast near his feet which got him to jump up with a shriek. “That’s for eavesdropping you git. Now go find Remus and leave us alone.” 

“You have not changed a bit in 12 years. Your standards have lowered but you have not changed,” Sirius said.

“I can throw you into a wall if you keep talking. Go bother your moony.” Instead of speaking again, Sirius just walked out of the room after throwing up the middle finger to her. She raised her wand slightly which caused his hand to lower and his feet to pick up pace. She had a satisfied smirk on her face before looking back at Severus’ dark eyes. She frowned upon seeing how bad his dark circles had gotten, her hand cupping his cheek gently and her thumb caressing the edge of his dark circles. 

“Let’s go to bed, you need to sleep,” She stated before taking his hand and pulling him out of the hospital wing. She led him back to his quarters so he could change into more comfortable clothes and after, the two had gone to her quarters. Severus was quite familiar with her quarters, however, he had never really noticed all the pictures she had around the room. He took them in as she was changing into her night clothes. 

There were pictures of Lily and James, James and Y/N, the whole Potter family, pictures of Y/N, Remus, Sirius, Peter and James and lots of pictures of Harry and the boy with his friends. Once he moved over to her nightstand to look at the pictures there, he was surprised. It was a picture of the two of them from Harry’s 11th birthday, Harry had taken a picture of them after hearing about Y/N’s new professor position and wanted a picture of his two favorite professors at Hogwarts. Even though Harry had yet to attend Hogwarts, he already knew that Potions and Herbology would be some of his favorites because his favorite people were teaching the classes. 

A warm smile appeared on Severus’ face as he looked back on that day, the three of them had so much fun, taking Harry to Diagon Alley for the first time, getting all of his stuff prepared for his first year. The smile only grew when Y/N had walked back into the room in her night dress, she had taken a shower it had seemed because her hair was wet and she smelled like lavender. She casted a spell to dry her hair before getting into bed.

“What are you smiling for?” She asked him, curious, a smile growing on her face as well.

“Just looking at your pictures and thinking about Harry’s 11th birthday. How much fun we had together, it was like we were a little family,” He spoke gently as he got into the bed next to her.

“Do you want a family one day?” She asked the man, she had never gotten an answer out of him in all of the years she had asked, she hoped this time he would answer.

“As long as I’m with you, I’d be happy to have a family, I’d be happy with just us and Harry. The decision is in your hands,” He replied. Never had she expected her heart to feel like liquid but it did indeed.

“You’re a good man Severus,” She spoke, her voice clear and full of love.

“And you’re a good woman, Y/N,” He replied, his voice too full of love.

The pair had fallen asleep rather quickly that night, starting off side by side but moving towards each other like magnets during the night. The two ending up spooning the rest of the night, Severus behind her, holding her body to him in a protective manner and Y/N in front of him, her hand resting on top of his, surrounded by his love and protection.

taglist

@acupnoodle @chxelsxaa @fluffyrat365 @fanficwriter5 @atanukileaf

[readychilledwine]

Charms and Spells

SJM Villains Week - Day 3 - Secret Skills

Summary - You were far too happy to be Amarantha's test subject. Perhaps you should have thought differently when you saw the brand new spellbook

Warnings - Dubcon, sex pollen with a twist, manipulation, degradation, fxf, oral (reader receiving), pet play, mind control

A/n - Listen, we're running a little behind here for @sjmvillainweek, but I've been so busy loving everything you all are posting! I'm playing a catch-up game here with editing, so there may be errors I missed. I firmly believe Amarantha was a witch. We hear a lot in the ACOTAR world that witches steal power and use things that are not theirs to have access to. That fits perfectly what we know about Amarantha, and if SJM was ever bold enough to give us a prequel, I'd do many things to have Amarantha more fleshed out.

Oh, and a PS, you'll see this reader character again later with some other Amarantha smut that I'll be posting 👀

🗡Villains Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Amarantha watched as you sat, blinking at her after she had you drink the potion from her newest spellbook. Her nails were a soft thrum beating against the wood as you shivered from the oncoming waves of warmth spreading through you. “Is it working,” she sighed, slightly annoyed. “Are you feeling.. different?”

You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, body beginning to ache as you attempted to focus on anything, “What- what was that?”

“Oh, so you now you have enough brain power to ask?” Amarantha tisked you as she moved, your eyes suddenly drawn to the sway of her hips, far more than usual. “That, pet, was a potion meant to make the person who consumes it cave to their more primal needs.”

“It's sex magic,” you clarified quickly. “I can read between lines.”

Amarantha glared at your blunt response, “Is it working then?”

“Does it look like it is,” your tone was becoming more clipped, dangerous to use with her regardless of the two of you being friends.

You two had known each other and stood by each other's side for years. You had always blindly followed, believing in Amarantha and her goals for your homelands. Your faith in her was unmatched. Your loyalty undying. You would follow her to the grave, your Fates intertwined in a way that you both didn't want to acknowledge.

And, perhaps, you gave blind faith too easily as heat turned to pain, a whimper tearing through your throat. “I can help you,” she moved to you with a grace that made your skin crawl. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“I'm so mad at you,” you grit the sentence out. “You should have-”

“You could have asked,” she cut you off in a bored tone. “You could have looked at the book.”

“I trusted you.”

“That is your mistake, not mine. You know I thrive in magic and potions.”

The tense between you two grew, rising to a fever pitch before she sighed. Amarantha moved closer again, her hands sliding under the shirt you were wearing, “I can help,” the shirt came off without you responding. “Don't you want to feel better?”

It was a haze of motions from there, soft kisses with a lingering taste of wine, nails scratching down your chest, your skirt sliding down your thighs. She had played you for a fool, yet here you were, caving to her desires as she secretly got what she'd wanted. Her hands Were soft as she finally got to memorize every dip and curve, deciding she owned every inch of you that she touched.

She memorized every shiver, every time you let out a soft gasp or whine as she began kissing her way down, tasting the unique salt of your skin. When she final reached her destination, she only chuckled. “You are just a desperate thing. Whiny and needy.” You blushed at comment, opening your mouth to defend yourself. “Pathetic,” she whispered. “You are just absolutely pathetic. Doing whatever you can to earn my love and affection. Is that all you are, y/n? A tool for my pleasure and entertainment?”

It should have stung to hear those words, to hear what she truly thought of your years of loyalty to her. Yet all it did was settle arousal further into your body.

It was new, exciting. Being mocked by her was having an affect on your body neither of you could have predicted. Amarantha seemed to notice, her tone becoming more cruel as she continued to degrade you and kiss your thighs.

“Now spread your legs and behave, whore,” she kissed along your heat as she commanded you. “I earned this treat and you're going to hand it to me.”

She wasted no time, burying her face into you, tasting what she had decided was gold between your thighs. Every lick was planned, rhythmic, never allowing you a moment of peace to breathe. A hand reached up to caress your breast, pinching your nipple as she flicked your aching clit.

Her potion had you reeling from every touch, every soft vibration her moaning made against you. You could have died right here, right now, and you would have died happy.

She showed no signs of letting up on you as she pushed her tongue into you, pads of her fingers taking over the swollen bundle of nerves where her tongue had been. “Already,” she clicked her tongue with a smirk as your legs began to shake, “how disappointing.”

Perhaps it was her tone. Perhaps it was the potion. Perhaps it was everything, but you fell apart then and there as her motions began again, an even deeper haze seeming to lock in as you tangled your hand into her soft red hair. She worked you through the high, smirking against you as she knew what was to come.

You had been mindless for her before this. So eager to please and do what you could to make her happy.

Now you'd have no choice. Not with the permanent effects this potion had.

You shouldn't have trusted her and Amarantha knew that deep down as she put a collar and leash on you, making you sit as she read through her new spellbook.

“Ah, there it is! See, pet? A way to steal powers,” she dog eared the page before grabbing your chin. “You belong like this and I am going to ruin you.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[dirty-bosmer]

OC in fifteen

Tagged by @justafoxhound : share 15 lines or less of dialogue that showcases your OC's personality

This one was so much fun! I had to sift through a lot 😅 Tagging: @elavoria @thequeenofthewinter @gilgamish @kookaburra1701 @wispstalk @skyrim-forever @theoneandonlysemla @sylvienerevarine @lucien-lachance @bostoniangirl21

Going with Nim for this one and tried to pick quotes that were somewhat chronological:

1. "I bet you don't have any friends either. You're as pleasant as guar dung, and you look like a netch fart with a face."

2. "Were we supposed to kill him?" she asked, shaking her dagger free of the straggling bits of bunt flesh. "Sorry, I probably should have clarified earlier."

3. "Who are you becoming?" she asked it, tapping the face of the emerald as though it might respond. "Is that you in there? What are you doing?"

4. “Well only if there's more to it then. Please continue, Mr. Lachance. You have my undivided attention.”

5.. “Oh, little moss," she said to it. "Why couldn't I have been born such a little moss too?"

6. "Ah— oh." Nim looked back to the bottle like it was a long, lost lover returned from the dead. “Well then… a sip, maybe.”

7. "But it's our guild. It's our fight."

8. “We’ll fix this,” she said, reaching for Lorise's hands, holding them tighter than she'd held onto anything in her life. “I promise.”

9. “It’s quite alright, Master Wizard,” she mumbled hoarsely. “I really should go anyway. I need to, um, brew some potions.

10. “It makes me happy, Mathieu. Why is that such a terrible thing?”

11. “Because I’ve sold him a lie. A pretty one. One that masks all the ugliness inside me.”

12. Her face split into an ugly grin then, cracked like an open coffin. "Yes!" she cried out. "Yes, I'm fucking around! As soon as you turn your back, with everybody, on every corner!"

13. “Gods, Arquen. I’m just a woman. I’m not a war.”

14. “You watched gleefully as I tore my life apart. When you put your hands on me, I turned myself inside out. You touched pieces of me not even I’d seen before, and now what, Lucien? Now you’re scared of what lies beneath?”

15. "It’s me or something pretending to be me or I’m pretending to be it. I can’t tell, but I can feel it. Can you feel it? Have you ever? Have you ever looked at yourself and thought, ‘what will it take to get rid of you? Why do you keep doing this? What a truly remarkable feat that you’ve managed to fuck up your life this badly?’”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays! Can I get some trans tonks scene from siat?

There's something off with her potion.

Tonks is no potions master, but she's been taking these things for over a decade. She floos her apothecary, but all she gets is a harried apothecarist's apprentice who confirms her prescription and then ends the call.

Maybe they just adjusted the ingredients or something. Just because it's different doesn't mean it's wrong. She's never had any issues before.

But there's a first time for everything. And being selectively cautious is literally in her job description.

She only knows the one potions master. At least this is happening in the summer, when he's marginally better tempered.

"What do you want?" Severus snaps from his place hunched over his desk. He doesn't look towards the fireplace, but Tonks is sort of touched that he answered at all.

"I think there's maybe something off with my hormone potion."

That gets his attention for a moment, but he just scowls and looks back down. "Talk to your apothecarist."

"The apprentice seemed a little distracted," she answers.

He sighs, glaring at her like she's the loudest first year in his class. It hadn't worked then and it certainly doesn't now. "Fine. Come through."

She pulls her head back, then stands up and steps through the floo. It pops her out in Severus's office and she only stumbled a little before handing over the box of vials.

He lifts one, shakes it, then frowns. He uncorks to take a sniff and his eyebrows push together. Finally, he taps a drop of it onto his finger, then sticks it in his mouth.

"Well?" she asks, trying not to sound impatient because she knows exactly how far that gets her.

"You're right, this is a blood thinner at best," he says, just as irritated as before but now it's directed at her potions rather than her. "Are you on the same dosage you were when you graduated?"

"Yes," she answers, "how did - blood thinners aren't even that color!"

He snorts. "I doubt it was done on purpose. It looks like white clover was used instead of red. Stay here."

Tonks considers pointing out that she's not a student anymore and he can't just order her around, but she did come to him for help so maybe he can.

She's still working through the debate when he comes back and shoves a bag into her hand. "Here. I'll tell the Potions Masters Board to inspect your normal apothecary. Get your potions directly from St. Mungo's until they've been cleared. Go away now."

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble," she protests, opening the bag and seeing a full quarter's supply. "I can't take all this! Aren't there students who need it?"

"You didn't get anyone in trouble. Incompetent people get themselves in trouble with no help from anyone else. And yes, but in case you've forgotten the reason you came here in the first place, I'm a potions master. I'll make more. Go away now."

"Thank you," she says sincerely, clutching the bag to her chest.

He rolls his eyes and sits back at his desk, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper and pointedly ignoring her.

She sticks her tongue out at his bent head and goes back over to the fireplace. She has one foot in the flames when he says, "Ten points from Hufflepuff for your cheek, Miss Tonks."

Laughing while traveling by floo is ill advised. All she gets is a mouthful of ash for her trouble.