fireboltzarch

[fireboltzarch]

to all those who can still see me on this blog, i’m over @fireboltz bc tumblr shadow banned me

#i'm continuing every thread just moving them over rn

[fireboltzarch]

 serpentie​:

@fireboltz​​​

THE   FROSTY   WINTER   BREEZE   HITTING   THE   BACK   OF   HER   NECK   was   a   welcomed   discomfort   in   the   wake   of   her   freshly   trimmed   hair;   now   a   blunt   line   just   under   her   ears.   she   felt   better   -   freer   -   like   a   weight   from   her   shoulders   was   finally   lifted,   if   only   a   fraction   of   it.   it   was   easier   to   look   at   herself   in   the   mirror   now   &   know   it   was   her   looking   back   &   not   the   scared   little   girl   willing   to   do   whatever   monstrosities   were   asked   of   her   just   to   see   her   family   alive   &   well.   

she   took   another   drag   of   her   cigarette,   watching   the   smoke   float   up   into   the   air   for   a   moment   from   where   she   sat   one   a   lone   bench   just   a   few   feet   away   from   the   daunting   doors   of   the   ministry   of   magic.   shifting   the   hand   stuffed   into   the   pocket   of   her   coat   to   look   at   her   watch,   she   watched   the   hands   move   with   a   slow   tic   tic   tic   &   a   frown   on   her   face.   there   was   barely   anyone   out   this   early   in   the   morning   -   hell   she   wasn’t   even   supposed   to   be   here   this   early   -      but   the   malfoy   heiress   was   struck   by   a   very   rare   burst   of   anxiety,   seeing   as   it   was   her   first   day   on   the   job   as   an   auror.   normally   she   would   burst   through   the   doors   with   her   head   held   high,   confidence   dripping   off   her   like   a   waterfall   &   not   a   glance   towards   any   witch   or   wizard   hell   bent   on   letting   her   former   status   as   a   death   eater   cloud   their   view   of   her.   

but   this   was   …   different.   she   had   her   whole   life   planned   out   before   the   war.   a   cushy   life   behind   the   marbled   walls   of   malfoy   manor   until   she   was   married   to   whichever   well-mannered   pureblood   boy   her   parents   carefully   picked   out   for   her   &   being   a   housewife   just   as   she   was   trained   to   be,   then   pushing   out   a   heir   for   the   family,   &   hopefully   dying   of   old   age.   

for   obvious   reasons,   lyra   was   no   longer   happy   with   that   pretty   little   picture   her   parents   hammered   into   her   head   since   she   was   a   child.   hence,   this   newfound   hesitance   when   faced   with   the   new   life   she   picked   for   herself.   an   auror   (   not   that   they   made   it   easy   seeing   as   she   was   a   death   eater   despite   not   baring   the   dark   mark   )   &   an   amazing   one   at   that   because   a   malfoy   wasn’t   allowed   to   be   anything   less   than   the   best.   but   even   with   her   self   -   assured   attitude   there   was   still   a   tremble   in   her   hands   at   the   thought   that   this   was   a   mistake   -   one   she   wouldn’t   be   able   to   fix   or   bounce   back   from.

with   a   sigh   she   stubbed   out   her   cigarette   in   the   trash   can   near   the   bench,   now   stuffing   both   hands   into   her �� pocket   &   …   waiting   until   it   was   finally   time   for   her   to   begin   her   first   day   on   the   job.   

harry’s appearance had grown shaggier since he left hogwarts...      no one had ever called him careful in how he looked,    with hair that only begrudgingly tolerated a comb,    and a face that had swept itself into a harsh point,     but there was something about him these days that looked particular untended to:     nothing dirty,   of course,    just the vague fingerprints of lavender sleeplessness,      his cheeks had turned sallow and puffed,     a posture that had sunken into itself.     HE LOOKED TIRED.     and when he stared at the mirror,   the boy that stared back seemed to be a phantom version of himself.

the future had only ever existed as a vague concept to harry,    too big and too daunting to be anything but another fathomless dream...      he wasn’t even sure he’d live long enough to get a future.     death had been his burden to bear,     his promised legacy   [he was a child of the eater - of - death,    the protected son being led towards a greater slaughter,    where the world was laid barren if his life continued].     he had lived his life thinking only of the now,    unable to comprehend a world where he lived.     AND THEN HE LIVED.     he had been granted a second chance at this life...     a third,   almost.      his listlessness had landed him as an auror,    the job opportunity practically thrown into his lap.

he found himself early on the day of his match - up,   his first mission,     the walls of the ministry of magic looking more daunting than before.     wasn’t it supposed to be the opposite way around?    that age would make everything around him far less terrifying?      he glanced up at the building and wondered how anyone in the world could find comfort here.     it was the type of place designed to make people a little uneasy,    he was sure of that.      wandering into distraction,     he coughs when cigarette smoke attacks him.     a haze of milk grey wafts itself into his face,    his hand lifted to bat it all away.    there’s a cough stuck in his throat,     a glare warding his face against the stranger.     the smoke parts and reveals a face,    a little older than he last saw it,     her hair shorter,      but still as haughty as ever.     lyra.

his eyebrows knit together at the sight of her,    taken aback by her as if she were an intruder...       ‘      lyra?     ’      there’s a quick air of disbelief upon his tongue that he tries to clear away as quick as he can,    but it lingers     --     strawberry - fresh and tasting of rot itself.      ‘     what the bloody hell are you doing here?      ’

#serpentie #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen? #literally shakes in excitement

[fireboltzarch]

melancholya​:

                 tongue  presses  against  the  hardness  of  the  sweet  in  his  mouth,  white  teeth  flashing  bright  grin  before  an  amused  shrug  answers  the  kid,      ❛  i’m  not  giving  you  an  headstart,  i’m  giving  you  a  chance  to  get  out  of  this  alive,  ❜       harry  is  a  fourth  year,  he  should  have  never  been  allowed  into  that  dangerous  game.  plus,  cedric  is  nothing  if  not  a  passive  competitor  :  he  doesn’t  mind  winning  but  he  despises  doing  it  against  weak  opponents.       ❛  after  all,  you  didn’t  have  to  tell  me  about  the  dragons,  now  did  you  ?  ❜       the  sweet  is  mint  flavored,  fresh  scent  upon  tastebuds  that  clear  his  head.

the faint hit of a blush flash - bangs its way across his cheeks,    the rush of a small shrug becoming his body...      the plush scent of mint and honey,   cedric and harry,   worms itself into the air between them:   he sips the taste of companionship from this moment,   trying to hold it between his hands   [it’s nice to think that not everyone in hogwarts had turned against him...     that he still had friends in unlikely corners].        ‘       it was only right that i did.      besides,    there’s no use in having competition that isn’t up to your standards.     might as well throw you a bone every now and again.     ’

#deathlyquiet #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

[fireboltzarch]

greedworn​:

FINGERS  FLEX  AGAINST  THE  CROW  HEAD  OF  HIS  CANE  AS  HE  STANDS  TALL ,   DARK  EYES  FIXED  ON  HIM .     “     i  have  an  artifact  that  needs  to  be  …     cleansed .     ”     kaz  isn’t  sure  about  just  how  useful  the  man  in  front  of  him  might  be ,   but  he  is  right .     he  can’t  go  through  the  normal ,   official  &  very  legal  channels .     in  fact ,   he  prefers  if  no  one  knows  the  object  is  in  his  possession  in  the  first  place .      “     it’s  cursed ,   &  even  though  i’m  not  sure  if  that  is  a  speciality  of  yours ,   i  will  pay  well  for  your  troubles .     ”

harry wasn’t the usual choice for backroom dealings...     his aura seems to sparkle a little too cleanly,   the dazzle of gold that clings to his skin,   as if the name golden boy was a little too literal   [no one would suppose his godfather went by the name black,     that his fingers curled around the criminal underbelly like a vice].       ‘        an artifact...     you’re skimping around the details because you’re worried i’ll say no,    aren’t you?        ’       his smile is open,    the crinkle of his brow speaking of good humour.        ‘      tell me what it is and i’ll name my price.     ’

#greedworn #oh i love this idea thank u

[fireboltzarch]

dvaurga​:

        ❛  i  think  a  little  startling  would  be  rather  helpful  in  this  situation  ,  actually  .  ❜ the  witch’s  pace  had  quickened  as  the  pair  neared  the  main  field  of  the  compound.  despite  the  haste  of  her  movements  zoya’s  face  remained  impassive  as  a  cool  marble  facade  ━    pristine  and  polished  though  there  was  sweat  beginning  to  bead  on  her  brow  due  to  the  sudden  activity  .  ❛  what  do  you  intend  to  use  the  dragon  for  ?  ❜  in  the  heart  of  the  beast  enclosures  a  ring  of  keys  is  produced  from  a  glittering  chain  around  her  waist  which  shimmered  in  and  out  of  sight  as  the  light  made  contact  with  the  metal  .  A  WAY  TO  WARD  OF  THIEVES  THOUGH  THE  OTHER  WIZARD  SEEMED  TO  MANAGE  JUST  FINE  WITHOUT  THE  AID  OF  WANDERING  HANDS  .  ❛  my  uncle  chooses  most  of  the  names  and  he  has  an  odd  sense  of  humor  ━  but  that  really  isn’t  important  at  the  moment  ,  is  it  ?  ❜  halting  before  a  sleeping  welsh  green  dragon  the  keeper  hushes  her  tone  even  in  the  heat  of  her  vexation  .  ❛  are  you  going  to  answer  my  question  or  not  ?  i  can’t  equip  you  very  well  if  i  have  no  idea  what  you  have  in  store  this  dragon  .  ❜  this  attack  tactic  would  have  to  be  far  from  conspicuous  with  the  aid  of  her  creatures  and  she  would  not  put  any  of  the  animals  under  her  care  in  harm’s  way  willingly  if  i  could  be  avoided  .  ❛  i  am  hoping  you  have  a  more  clever  strategy  outside  of  your  initial  kidnapping  .  ❜

harry tries to get his bearing about him as he falls into step beside her,    thankful that his haphazard attempt at a plan had even gotten him this far...     he’d have to find a way to rub that in ron and hermione’s faces when he next saw them   [ha,   look how well i can do without you guys!].     ‘course,   they were on much more life - threatening business right now,  most likely,  so he might have to hold his tongue until he did something a little more impressive...     like stop a kidnapping.     EASIER SAID THAN DONE.        ‘       the little one?    i’m thinking of keeping him as a pet.     maybe training him to do tricks...     he doesn’t like that idea    --     you were talking about the big one,   weren’t you?        ’        a wince,   a small attempt at a smile.    then a frown appears when he realises that he shouldn’t be smiling at all...     this was serious business   [and harry was a very serious man,   when all was said and done...    probably].        ‘        the big dragon,   the,   uh,   the one that isn’t this one...     as conspicuous as you can make a dragon,    which i know isn’t very.    fire would be useful,   or ice,    or anything that can destroy great big patches of land.    keen eye - sight.     something that won’t try to kill me the second it gets a chance.      kill us,   i suppose.   ’

#dvaurga #PURRS A LITTLE SEEING A REPLY #i love this dynamic so bad makes grabby hands

[fireboltzarch]

melancholya​:

           her  smile  is  soft  &.  full  of  kindness  for  him,  light  of  humor  he  manages  to  brighten  her  eyes  with.  head  softly  tilts,  gently  shaking  before  a  sip  of  coffee  warms  her  tongue.  harry  has  been  plagued  with  nightmares,  for  a  long  time,  his  sleep  has  been  nothing  but  haunted  :  she  should  not  complain,  should  not  speak  of  the  toll  it  takes  on  her  when  it’s  barely  been  a  few  months  since  the  end  of  the  war.  but  lying  to  harry  would  be  betrayal,  to  hide  herself  from  him  would  be  to  lie  to  herself  :  if  she  starts  doing  just  that,  she  will  completely  lose  herself.  &.  she  can’t,  for  she  has  a  world  to  fix,  parents  to  give  memories  back  to  you,  hermione  still  has  the  weight  of  the  world  on  her  shoulders  &.  she  feels  like  falling  apart.     ❛  i’m  tired,  harry.  ❜      it  pours  out  of  her  mouth,  as  if  she  had  been  holding  it  back  for  too  long.  there  is  too  much  in  those  three  little  words  :  physical  and  mental  exhaustion,  a  wound  that  keeps  on  bleeding,  a  fear  that  simply  never  leaves  her  bones.      ❛  i’m  tired  of  those  people  asking  us  to  help,  to  fix  things,  to  do  this  and  that.  i’m  tired  to  meet  people  i  don’t  know  and  that  seems  to  know  so  much  about  me.  i  want  peace.  for  a  little  while,  ❜       she  hates  the  way  her  eyes  plead  with  him  but  there’s  despair  too  :  she  feels  like  she’s  run  out  of  options.

harry has learned what exhaustion feels like,    an intimate friend haunting his worst nights...       everyone has told him that healing was a slow process.      that it took time to become whole again,    that you had to piece yourself back together,     outlining the pock - marked bruises and the raised cuts until he had the strength to smooth them back into place   [the first step is identification,   they all said:     harry identified himself as tired...      he couldn’t be anything else when exhaustion filled him so entirely].        so when hermione echoes the same sentiment that hangs inside of him,    he can do nothing but deepen his frown and reach out for her.    his hand finds her lower back,    trying to throw as much physical comfort as possible into the touch.     he rubs small circles,    drawing his worried eyebrows together.     ‘      i know...     i know what it feels like.      i think we’re the only people      ---       you,   me,   and ron      ---      that could ever really understand it.      ’        the sentiment might sound lonely,   but it isn’t.     this is all he’s ever needed.        ‘        you think running away is going to give us peace,   though?     i’ll go,    if you want me to.    you know i will.    but i don’t want you to go away,    thinking it’ll solve everything,    and be let down when you come back.      ’

#deathlyquiet #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

[fireboltzarch]

thsndlves​:

still  swaying,  she  can’t  help  but  giggle.      ❛      calm  down,  harry,  you’re  gonna’  make  us  look  like  amateurs      ——      oh  shite,  he’s  coming  over!      ❜      despite  her  words  to  him,  in  that  moment,    𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐘  𝐈𝐒  𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐁𝐔𝐓  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐌.    she  straightens  up  right  beside  him,  looking  like  a  pair  of  startled  meerkats  they  are,  as  the  man…  well,  the  man…  walks  right  past  the  both  of  them.  there’s  a  long  moment  of  silence  as  ginny  chews  her  lip,  watching  him  approach  another  guy  at  the  other  side  of  the  bar.  the  redhead  blinks…    

❛      ——      well…    𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒  𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐄.      ❜

harry straightens his shoulders,     trying to focus his gaze straight ahead...       he feels like a race - hound tucked away into the slips,    nervous energy resting like an open mouth against his skin   [and as if their lives were ripped straight out of a comedy,    the man walks right past them:     he doesn’t even spare a look towards them].     it shocks a laugh from him,     short and low.     the palm of his hand moves to dull his laughter,    pressing against his mouth as his shoulders shake free from their strict posture.        ‘        looks like he wasn’t looking at either of us.     that makes sense.     what a lark.       ’

#thsndlves #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

[fireboltzarch]

thsndlves​:

                              ‘               oh,      harry no!               not to ward them off,      to collect up the pickles so they don’t get scared.               imagine if you never received any cat visitors…               that would be terribly unfortunate,      harry.               ’                              her brows arch upwards in genuine sadness imagining a cat - free existence for her friend.                                  ‘               i can watch if that’s what you want,      harry.      or i could help you put away these groceries?               i’ve never put away muggle groceries before               ——               what wonders lie in these little paper bags,      hm?               ’

a look of pure fright passes over harry’s features as she offers to help with the groceries...     luna was always so painfully sweet,   it almost felt unfair to turn her down   ---   it also felt like the only option he had if he wanted to keep his groceries and his kitchen in tact.    he picked up a cloth and started wiping down the surface,   throwing the pickles back into the jar when he came across them.        ‘      i promise you that the pickles aren’t getting scared.     you don’t have to worry about that.     ’       he throws her a smile,     offering a small shrug.      ‘      let me finish up here and we can put them away together...      merlin,    you really know how to make a mess.      ’

#thsndlves #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

[fireboltzarch]

i headcanon lily to have a thick, working class accent, so any verse where he grows up with lily, well -- harry has it, too.

#i think petunia would try to modify her accent and therefore modify harry's #so he sounds vaguely middle class #sometimes tho... a bit of working class pride slips out #headcanon，known as... making lily evans proud.

[fireboltzarch]

hufflepffs​:

              “    …   you’re in the greenhouse.    ”     An eyebrow raised ever so slightly,   twitching in confusion at him.     They were surrounded by all sorts of magical plants,   in the school’s greenhouse.      It was hard not to notice.       “    Are you alright ?    ”

harry’s eyebrows drew closer together,     giving a timid glance around his shoulders...      no one’s ever accused him of being a good liar,    just a liar   [and it was only really the slytherins who called him that to begin with].        ‘      i think i might have hit my head.     ’       great,   harry!     more lies.

#hufflepffs #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen? #he's panicking so bad

[fireboltzarch]

starter call.

#hi <3

[fireboltzarch]

curscd​:

          @fireboltz​   /  sc.​

          “  i  hate  that  i  let  you  down  and  i  feel  so  bad  about  it.  ”

‘      you didn’t let me down...     don’t say something like that.      ’        it’s with a sigh that the words escape him,   a hand reaching out to press against her shoulder.     it’s the only comfort he knows how to offer:    his words might sound tricky in his mouth,    a buried tombstone being finally unearthed,    but his hands are still.      this body,  at least,  is unshakable.      ‘      you did good.      ’

#curscd #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?

[fireboltzarch]

starter call.

#i got hit with major harry muse!

[fireboltzarch]

epochl​:

      she brightens her lips with a smile ,      paints them with an expression that seems to take over the expanse of her face ,      always finding a way back to lighter matters .     she’s always been the one to shine bright for everyone else ,        found hollows in her ribs where she can carry a lamp if the people around her need it .      but at least with quidditch ,    its easy to find the good ,    to fall into the fact that it seems unchanging in nature ,      an ever present constant .      a new broom is always an excitement ,     and that never seems to have to change .

❝   we should probably stick to quidditch for the time being ,     seems a bit better in the long run .  ❞

angela always seems to shine,    a pleasant warmth wrapping around the moments where harry wasn’t strong enough to fight away the darkness...       if she has a lamp between her ribs,    harry has too much heart stuffed there   [he doesn’t believe empathy to be a sign of weakness but, by merlin, sometimes it hurts so deeply that he isn’t sure he’ll feel alive ever again].        ‘        you’re starting to sound like wood.    i feel like i should give you a salute whenever you walk by.      ’        harry laughs,    knees hitting the back of a desk.    he pulls himself up on it,     hands resting light in his lap.      ‘      it’s nice that you still play.    i don’t have the time for it anymore.     ’

#epochl #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen? #harry will be too depressed to play quidditch and be like 'i don't have the time for it'

[fireboltzarch]

i   walked   from   revelation   to   revelation ,   through   green   flame ,    𝑆𝐻𝐴𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐸𝐷   𝑀𝑂𝑈𝑁𝑇𝐴𝐼𝑁𝑆 ,   every   aching   famine ,   ⅋   here   i   am   anyway ,   stronger   than   all   of   it .            /        ORIGINAL   HARRY   POTTER   CHARACTER          by   nini .

#nini is one of the nicest people i've met in the fandom and that's say something #so sweet so kind so GOOD at plotting and coming up with chara relations #a must follow

[fireboltzarch]

plotting call.

#this is the easiest way to get an interaction with me!!

[fireboltzarch]

vanitys​:

               ❝  you’d  better  hurry          —          or  you’re  gonna  be  late.  ❞          cheeky  grin  spreads  over  gentle  features,  obsidian  locks  cascading  down  her  back.  honeyed  irises  flickered  from  the  building  crowds  down  the  hall  they  were  meant  to  pass          —          excitement  for  some  new  kind�� of  performance  kept  secret.

@fireboltz​                                    𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃.

harry gathers his bag over his shoulder,    a finger held out towards her...     half reprimand and half grin,     the potter classic.      ‘     if i’m late,    you’re going to be late,   too.      we’re in the same class.      ’       he adjusts his bag and nods his head down the corridor,    grin twisting into a smirk.      ‘       race you?      ’

#vanitys #verse one，known as... what becomes of the omen?