#Elf on a shelf makes me feel a certain kind of way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fallen029 · 3 years

Text

New Master

Laxus was gone when it happened.

He'd planned it this way.

His grandfather, in a closed conversation, told him that he intended to pass the guildhall onto another master soon and that it would not be him. While he didn't specify who it would be, as Laxus snagged an S-Class job the following day, he thought that perhaps it would be a nice surprise. Even a welcome one.

The job took the slayer far out and he took his time returning home, taking some time out to really consider what direction he might find the guild headed in; and perhaps even consider moving on as well. It had long been on his mind that, perhaps, he'd be better off leaving his family guild behind, forging his own way, and while he wasn't set on the idea yet, it did sound nice when he heard in passing of the new female master at Fairy Tail.

He was certain this could only mean one thing.

And he was happy for her.

Erza.

She would make a good master. She deserved it.

And...it kind of cemented that, eventually, he really would have to put some serious thought into finding a new place to hang his hat.

While Titania might whip Fairy Tail into shape, he imagined that he and her would butt heads far too much, too often to really find a home there any longer.

Maybe he'd find a new guild.

Or just travel around for a bit.

He could even, perhaps, start his own guild, maybe, one day?

It felt like too much of a dream to even consider and Laxus decided to shelf it, as he finally headed home. Something to thing about when things did get bad. For now, it was best to remain hopeful. So hopeful that he'd even thought of a non-snarky, almost welcoming response to Erza, when he arrived back at the hall that day.

Only, Erza Scarlet wasn't around.

Unbeknownst to him, she was out on a job with the rest of Team Natsu, no doubt stirring up unnecessary trouble and drama to eventually drag back home. This was why she wasn't around to congratulate, as his eyes scanned the bar that afternoon. He thought surely she'd be around, standing by the bar and barking out orders, not unlike she did anyways, but now with more, true authority.

He couldn't find her though. Which bothered him a bit, as he shrugged his shoulders, and considered that perhaps she wasn't the new woman who'd been crowned ruler of all. Perhaps it was another. And though he tried hard to think of one that was worthy of such a title, such esteem, he couldn't rightly come up with one.

Not that there weren't many strong women in the guildhall.

Just that there weren't many who he figured his grandfather would deem worthy of holding such an esteemed title.

"Ay, Mira," he grumbled a bit when he found the woman by the bar. She beamed brightly at his attention and, though he secretly wanted to return it in full, he was much better at keeping things close to the vest. "Seen the Thunder Legion?"

Mira shook her head a bit and as she told him about how he'd only just missed them, as the trio headed out on a rather impressive sounding job, Freed leading the charge, Laxus tried hard to pay attention to her words. But it was difficult. While the two of them stood before the bar, he just kept getting distracted. It had long been a game between the two of them, the subtle gestures and remarks, learning just what they could (and couldn't) get away with while drawing no suspicion to the two of them.

Usually, the woman was behind the bar and he could lean over it, to stare deeply into her eyes and speak lowly, mostly unheard by all others, and maybe her hand would graze his, just lightly. Maybe. And her sweet tone would sound somehow even lighter. Maybe. And for a moment, as she allowed her fingers to just ghost over his and the corners of the man's lips weren't turned down, it could feel like they were the only two in the bar.

But she was standing before it now and that was fine, as Laxus only nodded then, to it, before saying, "Get me a drink, will ya?"

Mira, who would normally had taken to this action without it even having to be requested of her, made a bit of a face and opened her mouth to, what he imagined, would be an attempt to excuse her mistake. Before she could get it out however, someone else spoke up.

"Watch yer fuckin' mouth, Dreyar."

He turned to glare, Laxus did, at whoever spoke. The voice gave it away though, before he had a good eye on the man. It was Macao, that old bastard, sitting up at the bar, leaned over a mug, alone, and apparently hankering for a lightning filled right hook.

And Laxus was close to doing him one good on that wish.

The words that came out of his mouth next stopped the slayer in his tracks though as, losing some of the edge, Macao remarked rather gleefully, "Talking that way to your new master. Oughtta be ashamed."

Laxus, who'd tensed in anticipation of putting the man in his place, felt an odd wave of shock fall over him in place of the annoyance and instead found himself staring quite dumbly at Macao for a few long moments before turning back to the woman before her.

"M-Mira," he stuttered some, frowning as he asked, "you're the-"

"Master! That's right."

This wasn't her confirmation, but rather the lingering Elfman, who came to toss an arm around his older sister's shoulders he boasted, "Mira's the biggest man around now."

"Yeah, Laxus," Lisanna, who he noted for the first time behind the bar, preparing a tray of drinks, quipped. "This is the Strauss family guild now. Mess with us, our Master sister will get you."

Elfman added with a nod, "Disrespect with our Master sister, and we'll get you."

And there it was, the shock turning right back into annoyance.

Having many people to take it out on now, he found himself focusing mostly on the middle Strauss as he remarked, "If lack of knowledge was a crime, Elfman, you'd be the first one fucked."

"You can't talk to me like that!" He dropped his arm from around his sister then, the muscular man did, as he took a step towards the other guy. "You-"

"Enough, boys." And Mira made a face at her younger brother. "Elf, Laxus is just teasing. And I sure it is shocking to find out that I'm the Master now. It's a lot to absorb all at once."

"Yeah," her brother grumbled, "if you're a moron. You're the exact person Gramps shouldda chosen. Perfect pick."

"Perfect," Lisanna echoed as, tray all loaded up now, she went to disperse the mugs of ale, "pick."

Macao raised his drink in agreement and it was echoed by some of the others milling around. Laxus though felt out of place in the hall, knocked off a peg a bit, exposed in both the tangible and hidden. He hadn't planned for something like this; Mirajane being crowned the new Master of the hall. Not in his general standing in Fairy Tail or, perhaps more importantly, his relationship.

He felt out of sorts and called out then and, though he wanted to either retreat or lash out, he did find himself taking in a breath before remarking, "It's not shocking. Mira. You're… I'm sure Gramps picked you for an important reason."

"Yeah," Macao snickered and Laxus wanted to slug him all over again. "An important reason. Two of 'em, maybe, even."

But as Laxus turned to glare at him, Mirajane only reached out instead, grabbing the man's arm rather roughly before tugging him off.

"Your grandfather," she explained as she tugged him along, getting some glances from those around, but mostly passing unnoticed thorough the layabouts who frequented the bar, "decided after handing the reigns over to me that he would go on a bit of a vacation. Which is nice, but he didn't clear out all of his stuff from the office before he left and I was kinda hoping that you could, maybe, take a box of his things? To his place? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you did that."

Still a bit dazed, the man allowed himself to be drug along. When they came to a sudden stop before what was once his grandfather's office, he had to pause before continuing on, even when Mira entered without hesitation. For her, it was a place of business, where she'd count out the money on hard days, bring the Master his meals and bills. But for Laxus, it was where he frequently was reprimanded, as a teen, and held a lot of unsavory thoughts.

It looked different though. Now. Old photos were taken down, just empty wall space now, as Mira worked on getting it filled. The man's old trinkets or mementos from his long life were missing, replaced in some instances, the action not yet take in others. The room was incomplete, in a suspended state currently as Mira had no doubt gotten bogged down by more important things, and Laxus imagined that within the next few weeks, it would be fully fleshed out and all the woman's own.

"There's the box," she remarked, nodding towards where it set beside the bookcase. "It's not much, but-"

"Demon." He frowned some. "You didn't bring me in here to talk about Gramps' shit."

"I wouldn't take you anywhere to talk about that."

"Mirajane-"

"I just wanted to talk to you," the woman insisted and she reached out to just touch his arm now, that slight smile never rightly leaving her face. "That's all. Lax."

She stood before him and something seemed different about her now, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The air about her had changed and it felt wrong to attribute it to something as stupid as a job title, but it had some weight, didn't it? Rising from a barmaid to a the head of the whole operation felt outlandishly ridiculous, almost like a child's story, picked from the commoners to rule over the kingdom.

But it didn't exactly reflect Mirajane.

She wasn't some lowly barmaid. She was a the harborer of Satan Soul, one of the top mages in the guild, and arguably the old man's biggest helper in the past few years. She knew the inner works of the guild just as well as she'd learned the struggles of a working mage. Mirajane was well versed in all facets of the business and though, from the outside, choosing the head of the bar to run the entire guild might not make the most sense, anyone in the knew had to be well-aware of what the demon brought to the table.

And Laxus, though he was still suffering from some residual surprise, was very aware of every single thing the woman brought to the table.

"Plus," she was continuing on then, hand climbing up his arm, fingers tracing all the way to his cheek as the man only blinked down at her. "I thought we should both realize the perks of it. You know? Having my own office."

It had been a bit.

Too long, maybe.

But there was too much going on in his mind then, really to focus on much else and, when they broke apart it was because he pulled back some to stare into her eyes.

"The Master, huh?" He ran a thumb over her cheek, fighting a grin as the woman nuzzled into his touch. "My Master?"

"Mmm," she hummed in reply. "Always have been."

He laughed then, and it broke some of the tension, but while Mira giggled at this, Laxus merely shook his head.

"This is," he told her simply, "a lot to take in. What'd you really do to the old geezer, huh? Charm him? Some demonic arts?"

She lost her smile a bit and now, not sounding so jokey, she replied, "I was the best person for the job."

Laxus was sure that she'd been forced to have this conversation many times over by this point. A stunning reveal fit for stunned underlings, may of who knew Mira merely from working at the bar. The stories did her little justice, at times, and Laxus as he grew older, though he tried to ward it off, found himself less and less enamored with the current youth. When he was younger, he thought he'd awlays feel that way; young. Now, hardly passed the age where these thoughts were at least somewhat socially acceptable, he was frequently appalled by their lack of respect.

Especially when it came to former powerhouses in the guild, such as the woman standing before him.

Was he this way? When he was young? He could recall challenging any and all who would help him hone his power, but to outright believe they were beneath him?

Maybe he had been this way.

In fact, if he were honest with himself, perhaps he was that way for far too long.

Still, he could tell by the way that the woman spoke that his jest hadn't been well-received. It was the slayer that grabbed the woman's arm this time, both of them in fact, and though he was still toying with what all of this meant, his girlfriend gaining control of his guild, there was one thing he knew for certain.

Laxus, staring deeply down at the woman, insisted simply, "Damn right you are."

"Dragon-"

"You are." And he moved to squeeze her shoulders instead, shaking her a bit, even. As if she needed the fact punctuated. "No one cares about this place as much as you. No one. No one could ever give up their life for the guild. Not the abstract concept of the guild, but the literal guildhall. You take care of the hall. And all the people in it. You put that time in. And if someone tries to come for it, you would absolutely kick their ass. You weren't just the best option; you were the only option."

She blinked some, Mira did, before giggling and singing his name in a high pitch, "Laxus."

"Shh." And he glanced behind himself, at the door, "We're not exactly completely alone here, you know."

"It's my office." Reaching up, she poked at his cheek, the one with the zigzag scar trailing down it. "And you've been away for too long. Being all mushy."

"I am not." And he grabbed her finger then, tightly, as his gaze turned harder. "I'm telling you it because it's true. Not because I love you. But because you're-"

"Aw, Lax." She continued to speak in that singsong voice that grated on his nerves. "You love me?"

He merely shook his head before remarking, "You're going to make a great master, Mirajane." Releasing her shoulders, he added, "I mean it."

Mira dropped her own arms, nodding a bit as she told him, "I hope to be. I really do. I...know it's kind a silly, and I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything because I know when you were a kid you did it a lot more than me, but… I kinda dreamed about it. A few times. And when Master approached me with the opportunity… This is what I want to do. And what I'm going to start putting my all into. So… If it's going to eat at you or something, that I'm the Master now, then-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Laxus." And her tone was much the same as his now. Serious and fully separated from all its former joy. "I'm not stupid."

"I'd never say that you were."

"Things get...hard. When a woman had power over a man." She shook her head a bit. "And this is already all tangled up. With hiding our… I just don't want this to end badly. If you're going to have a problem with me being the Master-"

"My," he reminder her, "Master."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I." Laxus took a breath before shrugging his shoulders some and remarking, "You're the Master now. That's great. But that doesn't mean that you're not still Mira, huh? That we should just throw this away without even given it a shot. You don't want this to end badly, but I don't want it to fucking end. Ever. No matter what it's like."

That time, it was into his chest after throwing herself at him, that she muttered while his arms tightly wrapped around her, "Mushy."

"Hardly." Still, he bowed his head some, to rest it against the white locks that welcomed it. "It'll be easier anyhow, huh? Now that you're master?"

"How do you figure?"

"Can cut out any time. Don't gotta stick around till closing. Really, you run this place like Gramps, you mostly just gotta sit about a few hours a week and then can do whatever you want the rest of the time."

"If it doesn't hurt your feelings," she replied as she pulled back some to look up at him. "I actually might love the guild more than you. Just a bit."

Blinking, Laxus thought for a moment before releasing her so he could shrug.

"I'll win you over," he assured her simply. "Having known all of the former Masters of this place, even if only in story, I can assure you, it grates on you eventually."

"I know most of your previous dates, dragon." She shrugged in turn. "I hear you do the same thing."

"You're not just a date, demon." He even smiled from the thought. "You're a lot more."

But they couldn't hide out forever. She'd brought him there under a specific pretense and, unfortunatley for Laxus, that meant he had to lug a huge box of his grandfather's things back to the old geezer's empty house.

Only, he was surprised to find it wasn't really that empty at all.

"What are you doing here, old man?" Laxus griped when he'd been scared half to death when, upon entering the seemingly empty house, a dark energy had fallen over him in the hallway. Turning on his heel, Laxus was equally glad and annoyed to find it to be his grandfather.

"What am I doing here?" Makarov, even in his ever advancing age, could look quite fearsome when the time called for it. And being disturbed from a late afternoon nap, only to find someone rooting around in your hall closet, was exactly that sort of time. "What are you doing here?"

It was with a sneer that his grandson answered this, turning back to the closet as he shoved the box of things Mira had given him inside.

"Direct orders," Laxus replied simply. "From the Master."

Makarov took in a breath then, as he was prepared to remark that he'd made no such order, but he was quickly reminded that while he might not have, it mattered little.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, Gramps." Finished up with the box, he shut it before turning to face the man. "It is."

Huffing a bit, it wasn't with annoyance really that he shook his head, but rather in agreement as he added, "She wasn't who I always pictured as fully taking over, but… Perhaps, one day, if something calls her elsewhere, she'll see you fit to take her place."

Laxus snored. "Don't want it."

"For now," his grandfather clarified, but Laxus only shook his head.

"Just see my life in other ways now," he explained as, finished it seemed, he turned to head out. "It's not all just about who's in charge, you know. It's about a lot more."

He eyed him some, Makarov did, as his grandson seemed intent to leave. Calling out to him, he questioned, "You think you can serve under her? Boy?"

"Yeah." Laxus didn't even need to think about it. "I really think I can."

#Miraxus #Miraxus Week 2020 #Day 2 Master #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

percimmonhellyeah · 4 years

Text

A New Friend - Logince Vore

Roman, the ruler of a noble elf kingdom, is injured, though a certain human is curious enough to take him back to their lab and help him.

Ship: Pred!Logan x Prey!Elf!Roman

Word Count: 3.1k

a/n: This was a request from @indecisive-loser on tumblr! He made this beautiful drawing of one of my other fics here and thought I’d make something back!

--------------------

A cool summer’s breeze passed by, making the tree’s leaves rustle in the distance and the tall grass sway. There Logan stood in the grassy field and watched as the sun sunk down behind the earth. He sighed, trying to enjoy the moment before he headed back to his lab. He’d been studying the plant-life and wildlife around this field as he heard there was potentially a new species of frog or snake around the area. Discovering a new species would be one of his greatest achievements, of course if he actually found one. He’d been looking for one of these new snakes or frogs but he’s yet to see one. It was a bit discouraging, as he’d been looking in these fields for nearly a year now, but at least the place had plenty of other wildlife to study.

Logan looked over to his lab that hid among the trees in the distance, smiling at it. Another wind blew by, making the grass sway even more and brush at his sides. He took a deep breath in, taking that as his queue to leave the field and go back to his cozy lab, well as cozy as a lab can get. A yawn escaped his mouth as he walked across the field, letting his hands touch the tall grass. He’d been outside since six in the morning now that he thought about it. He glanced down at his wristwatch, checking the time. It was just about to become eight. He hummed realizing he’d been out the entire day, though it was a bit obvious with the tired look on his face. The air started to grow just a bit colder, waking him up a bit more. Soon, he was just at the edge of the forest, and he saw the small dirt pathway that led to his lab. To be honest, he kind of lived there since he spent so much time in it. It was his pride and passion to go there everyday to study the wildlife. Another yawn escaped his mouth as he looked over to the forest. He wanted to venture into the forest today, but something told him not to, at least until now.

As strange as it was for Logan to think this, he did feel some kind of presence nudging him to go deeper into the forest. He glanced over to the sky. The sun hadn’t fully set, and it would still be at least a bit sunny for another hour. Plus, he had a flashlight and a map of the place in case he was to get lost. A warmth flooded in him as he stepped into the forest, looking around. There wasn’t much to see at this time of night, at least from what he’s gathered looking around here countless times now. That was, until a small group of fireflies danced around a particular spot near a tree. The base of the tree had tall grass hiding it. He blinked at the unusual site. The grass was much taller than all the other grass surrounding it, and what was with the fireflies all gathering here? He glanced around again, seeing no other fireflies glowing anywhere else in the forest. With a slow step, he walked over to the tree and kneeled down. His hands reached over to the tall grass, pushing it aside. As soon as all the grass was out of his way, his eyes widened, and his mouth went ajar. It was an elf.

Logan never believed in the fae or magical creatures, but with what was in front of him, it was clear as day that they existed. The light from the fireflies illuminated the tiny elf. As he looked closer, he saw their pointy ears and beautiful brown hair. They wore a white shirt adorned with gold that was slightly ripped and had a small red sash across their body. Their pants were also ripped and worn down. What happened here? He got on his stomach, looking even closer, the fireflies now glowing brighter, and that’s when he saw it. Their back had a massive wound that was covered by the sash. Thankfully, it looked like most of the bleeding had stopped, but they were certainly in critical condition. If he left them out here, who knew what would come hurt them next.

Logan frowned at the site as he dug through one of his pockets. He soon pulled out a small clean rag, and, with a careful hand, he scooped up the tiny elf and stood up. He held them close to his chest and even through the rag, he could feel how cold they were. The sun was soon disappearing from the sky, the field and forest becoming darker and darker. A wind blew past him, making him shiver at the cold. He held the elf closer, trying to block as much of the wind as possible from their tiny frail body. The white light from the lab illuminated the path, making him smile. At least he knew he couldn’t get lost. Once he reached his lab, he entered and went over to his desk, ready to help the elf.

✰✰✰✰✰

Warmth. It was warm when Roman woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and his head spun as he tried to get up. Where was he again? He was out on his daily walk through the forest then he blacked out. His thoughts scrambled to find out what happened until something caught his attention. Something soft and tight was wrapped around his body. He touched his back, his memories becoming clearer as he woke up. Soon, a softness brushed at his leg. Slowly, he sat up, looking down on the fabric he was sitting on. He blinked. Didn’t he pass out on the grass? Finally, he looked up seeing the bars of the small cage he was in and a human right next to it, tinkering with some liquids. His body shook for a second until he took in a deep breath. He had to admit, it was a scary sight to be so close to a human, but he needed to get back to his kingdom soon before everyone thought he was dead!

“Hey!” Roman yelled as he stood up, “Release me, you terrible beast!”

All of a sudden, the ground shook as the human turned to face him. He gulped as he stared right into their eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,” they started, “Is your wound healing?”

He blinked, startled that they’d even ask such a thing. Humans were monsters! He took another look around. The room was filled with beakers and all types of glass tools. In the distance, there were some mice and other creatures locked in a cage. All of a sudden, his heart sunk as he looked back at the human that seemed to tower above him. He saw their white coat they had on over their black shirt and blue tie. They were a scientist.

“I said release me you beast!” Roman yelled again, trying to sound tough.

“Alright then, though you don’t need to yell.”

Roman backed away from the bars of the cage as the human opened the door. He dashed as soon as it was open until the human’s hand just stayed there, their palm open. He backed away again, wary. He didn’t want to get hurt once more, especially in the hands of a beast.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the human said, “I’d just like a closer look.”

He looked back at the hand then at the floor, contemplating. Humans were nothing but monsters! Though, if they really intended to hurt him, they could’ve done it when they first found him. He was already unconscious at the time, so it would’ve been the perfect opportunity to kill him! Yet here he was with his back wrapped up and wound cleaned. He looked back up to the hand, making a decision. A deep breath entered his tiny lungs as he stepped closer to the opening of the cage. He shook a bit though soon calmed himself down as they stepped on to the human’s warm enormous hand. As careful as he could, he walked over their fingers and soon sat in the palm of their hands.

Roman grabbed onto one of their giant fingers as they moved their hands closer to their face. Their eyes scanned over his tiny form, making him back up, and eyed them back with suspicion.

“What’s your name? My name is Logan”

Roman blinked, certainly not expecting a human to ask for his name.

“I’m Prince Roman, and I demand to leave! My people need me, or my kingdom will crumble into chaos!”

“You’re royalty? How fascinating…” they said, “How about a deal? I’ll let you go by morning if I can research you.”

Roman put a hand on his chin as his mind swirled with all types of ideas. Should he trust Logan? Should he try to escape? All of a sudden, he started to shiver just a bit from the cold. Even with the warm palms underneath him, it wasn’t enough to warm him up in this big lab he was in. He squeaked when the hands soon cupped him in a bit more. A glance at Logan made his decision clear. As cold as their face was, there was just a hint of genuine concern. He looked back up again, taking in a deep breath.

“Alright, I’ll let you research me if it means I’m protecting my people from you.”

“I don’t intend to hurt you if that’s what you are saying… I was only going to ask questions about your species. Also, what exactly are you?”

From there, Roman ranted on about how marvelous elves were. They were practically humans, though much smaller. He yapped on about his kingdom and of course himself for hours on end, only stopping when Logan asked a specific question. As he continued to talk and talk, his tiny stomach grumbled. He blinked, realizing he hadn’t eaten anything that day. He looked up and he swore there was a faint smile painting Logan’s face.

“Are you hungry? I have some food,” Logan asked.

“Only a bit. I don’t think I’ve ever had human food before.”

Something in Logan suddenly made them smile more and almost look giddier. Their powerful hands brought Roman closer to their chest as they walked over to a cabinet. Soon, they opened it, revealing jars upon jars of some kind of red substance. A small loaf of bread, at least that’s what he thought it was called, laid on the bottom shelf. Logan grabbed the loaf of bread and a jar out of the cabinet, now sitting at a table nearby. He looked at the jar’s contents, never having seen something like it before.

“It’s called jam.”

Roman blinked as Logan spoke. Soon, their hand laid flat on the table, him now taking the hint and climbing off. He hugged himself. It was still a bit cold in the lab, but he’d certainly been in much colder weather. He must’ve been in Logan’s hands too long and got used to their warmth. A clank rang in his ears when Logan opened the jar of jam and spread it on to a small piece of bread, which he assumed was for him. His feet shuffled backward as they handed the piece of bread to him. A deep breath entered his lungs, his legs a bit shaky, though he quickly calmed himself down. With some hesitance, he took the bread and the jam on top and took a small bite. His eyes widened, captured by the flavor.

“This taste marvelous!”

“I know! I’m not one for sweets, but this always puts a smile on my face,” Logan said as they took their own piece of bread and spread some jam on it. Soon, they took a bite, Roman watching as they ate. He looked back down at his own bread and scarfed it down. He didn’t realize just how hungry he was.

“Would you like more?”

Soon, Roman nodded, a big smile forming on his face. He warmed up to the human quite a bit even though they only met that night. Something told him they would keep their word and not hurt his kingdom. Logan took another piece of bread and spread some jam on to it. They put it on a tea plate and slid it over to him. Quickly, he ripped off a piece of bread and munched on it, loving the flavor, and feeling in his mouth. He caught a glimpse of Logan smiling as he continued to eat their jam covered bread.

As Roman kept eating, he felt a warmth on his back followed by a light now casting a shadow down on the table. He turned around to see light filling the window nearby and he soon yawned. Were they both really up the whole night? Another yawn escaped his mouth, covering it with a hand. The bread he ate didn’t help much as it only made him even more tired. All of a sudden, he heard Logan yawn, too. He’d guess they’d been up for quite a while, probably longer than him. He looked back out the window as he touched the cloth that wrapped around his wound. He needed to go back to his kingdom, but his eyes were starting to grow heavy, wanting at least a nap.

“Are you tired?”

Roman just nodded and yawned as if on cue. Logan smiled more offering their hand. He scrambled on to it enjoying the small warmth from them. Soon, he looked up as they moved to a more comfortable plush chair and as they sat, a bit of hesitance and curiosity sprinkled on their face.

“Would you like to sleep in my storage stomach? I doubt the table would do much good.”

“Human’s have storage stomachs?”

“Some do… This should be my final experiment with you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to, though I assure you it’s completely safe. I’ll let you go right after if you do want to do the experiment.”

Roman looked down with a hand on his chin. He could just be let go now, but he’d risk getting attacked again with how tired he was. But Logan’s offer did sound quite relaxing… He’d never been in a storage stomach before, and it would certainly be a lovely story to tell back home. A deep breath filled his lungs as he looked back up to them.

“Alright, I’ll do it. How shall we uh… start?”

“I’ll open up my mouth so you can crawl in. If anything goes wrong just tell me. I’ll do the rest. Are you ready?”

Logan’s hands moved up closer to their lips. Roman stared in awe at the sight, shaking from the fear and excitement that ran through him.

“Yes…”

Finally, Logan’s mouth opened, and his jaw dropped at how marvelous their mouth looked. Their teeth were nearly a perfect white and their tongue looked as soft as the grass in the fields. As he came closer, a warm breath rolled over him that smelled of mint and jam. Not a scar or scratch lined the inside of their cheeks. The tongue soon rolled over their teeth, waiting for him to crawl in. He took in one more deep breath as he looked around, and soon crawled on to the soft tongue.

A strong warmth hit him as he was pulled inside, feeling even more of their breath wrap him. Carefully, he turned around so he could face the outside of their mouth. The light coming from the lab shone into their mouth, illuminating the entrance of their throat he’d soon be going down. Another breath washed over him, the warmth so inviting. He took one more good look around their mouth before they slowly closed it, darkness now surrounding him.

Soon, the tongue pinned Roman to the roof of Logan’s mouth. A small hum came out from him as their tongue squished his tiny body. The miniscule bumps on the tongue trailed his face. He held on to it, hugging it and cuddling into it. The tongue soon went down as he heard a hum from Logan. His face warmed up, almost matching with the heat that was in their mouth. Thank goodness they couldn’t see him, or he might’ve fainted! He cuddled more and more into the soft slimy flesh and let himself relax. Soon, a squeak escaped his mouth as he felt them start to tilt their head back. For a moment, his heart stopped, an instinctual fear kicking in. He took in a deep breath as he slid down to the entrance of their throat. The tip of their tongue curled over his head, giving him one last lick as he was finally gulped down into their throat.

The throat muscles was quick to massage at Roman’s tiny form, making him hum even more. It was a tad bit tight, but he didn’t mind it much, especially since he hadn’t relaxed this much in quite a while. Running a kingdom was hard work after all. Soon, he was squished even more into the muscles, certain it was Logan pressing their neck. Though soon, the pressure disappeared. A loud heartbeat and deep breathing rang in his ears as he continued to go down, deeper into their core. Finally, his legs squirmed into a much larger place, followed by the rest of him plopping down into their stomach.

Roman’s heart raced, trying to take everything in. To his surprise, there was a small blue glow coming from the mucus that lined their storage stomach, allowing him to see. With a gentle step, he stood up walking around in absolute awe. He pressed a hand into the stomach walls, entranced at his hands sinking into the folds. As soon as he pulled away, his hands started to glow from the mucus that stuck to him.

“Are you alright?” Logan’s booming voice echoed throughout the stomach.

“Yes! I’m alright!”

He continued to look around, exploring. Other than the mucus, there was no stomach acid in sight. He guessed he was right to trust the human. He took in a deep breath as he laid down, letting the warmth lull him to sleep. A yawn escaped his mouth as he snuggled into the folds.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for saving me. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you…”

There was a small silence between both of them until Logan spoke.

“It’s… no problem. Sleep well, Roman…”

And with that, Roman’s eyes closed, relaxing into the walls of his new friend, falling asleep.

#sanders sides vore #tss vore #infinitesimal!sides #extreme cuddling #soft vore #safe vore #pred!logan #prey!roman #sanders sides g/t #g/t sanders sides

64 notes · View notes

maprron · 3 years

Text

Mystery in the Woods - Chapter 4

[I can’t find the chapters so if you are new to this story or just want to remind yourself of what happened like 5 months to update my fanfiction.net is @/maprron :)]

Summary: Lucy's father moves them from their home in Colorado to rural Maine but this small town, despite only having a population of less than 500, has secrets especially in the woods. Will Lucy listen to Natsu and never go into the woods or will the longing get to her? Mainly Nalu with, Gruvia, and Canajane (I will add but those last two are already together in the start)

A/N: sdflkdfjbs I forgot to save this so let's try again. I'm so so so sorry about updating since like... September(?) I really dislike proofreading also please forgive me if there is any mistakes I think I might have dyslexia and I really don't have the energy or time to read this over again because then I will probably change so more things up. So any way I hope you enjoy and I promise I won't take as long next time... probably

I laid awake all night stressing over my plan in which I was going to ditch school in the morning. I had never ditched school and I was troubled with the thought that I might get caught but I needed answers.

The night prior Natsu had suggested that I come over and play some games with his friend and this is where the idea was sparked.

Juvia made a comment about a library that she had heard about before, she heard others had mentioned that it was haunted although she didn't believe them. Natsu's answer was simple, that yes there was a library east of town but it wasn't haunted, he even mentioned that the library belongs to his dad's friend. He also mentioned that she studies the woods and at that moment something told me to go.

"Don't" Natsu pulled me towards him as soon as I began to leave

"Don't what?" I dropped my bag back down at my feet

"I know you were thinking about going to the library" he looked me dead in the eyes with a knowing look, I gulped at his stare

"I wasn't" I lied, it was a shitty lie but a lie nonetheless. The look he gave me knew that I was lying but he let me go

"I'm driving you home" he grabbed his coat and keys and pushed me out the front door with him. This action might have been a way to make sure I didn't try to go right then but even I wouldn't do that, I'm sure if the midnight thing is true but I'm not going to be the one to find out. But I also should have listened to him but at the same time there was something inside me that was telling me to go, that the lady who owned the library would be able to answer all my questions that I have asked ever since I arrived.

The deeper I went into the woods the more I felt the odd feeling I had felt every day since arriving in this odd town. But the scary part was that I was convinced someone was walking right behind me. I could hear the crunch of the snow behind me even when I would pause, they weren't hiding their existence. I was afraid to turn around this time because I knew that this time they were closer than when I first met Natsu. This time they could reach out and grab me, so I walked faster. I knew they were there, what else could have been breathing down the back of my neck. No person would be out here except for me. So I started walking faster which eventually turned into me running through the woods

I soon came upon an old Tudor style mansion. It felt strange as if it didn't belong there but a sign in the yard suggested otherwise.

The sign told me that the home was the place that I had been looking for. I would have been hesitant to walk inside however if it wasn't for the car parked outside of the home and the few toys in the yard that made it look lived in. I was kind of expecting an old rundown home but the only thing that made it look rundown was the ivy running down the walls but even that seemed intentional.

I swiftly made my way inside the library, a bell ringing as I entered.

I looked around at the surprisingly small library "for a house this big you'd expect it would be a little bit bigger" I mumbled, taking a look at the bookshelves which had carvings of dragons and other mythical beings.

And when I turned around I was met with a little girl. She had short blue hair and I noticed that her ears were pointed almost like she was an elf. She held a small white kitten in her arms which had a pink bow tied around its neck. She herself wore a dress that made it look like she was from the 1800s and considering this town she might as well have been.

"Hello?" She tilted her head slightly "mama wasn't expecting any visitors I don't think" the young girl looked around as if she was looking for said women

"Oh uh… sorry I was just told there was a library here and I wanted to see if it is true" I crouched down to her level "I'll leave if I am intruding"

"Aw don't worry you are quite alright" A woman spoke as she walked into the room. This women wore a dress that was a blue-gray color. The sleeves of the dress were loose and almost went past her finger tips. The final part of her dress was the thin ribbon tied around her waist a couple of times, making a crossed pattern, she was dressed as if it was the middle of spring instead of the freezing last days of fall. Her hair which was solid white was tucked into a braid and her skin was much lighter than her daughter's. You could barely tell that they were related but nonetheless they were. And then she looked up and her face it seemed confused and the words that fell out of her mouth confused me as well

"Layla?"

"Um… my name is Lucy" I smiled at the woman. Back home I would be confused for my mother all the time, it was understandable since we look so much alike, but here? I brushed this comment off as maybe she knew another Layla that look a lot like me

"Sorry you just… it's just that you remind me of an old friend that is all" she then dusted her hands off on her dress "now what brings you to these woods? We don't get many visitors and the ones that we do get are usually old friends of mine"

"Well I heard about this library from a friend and I was wondering if you could help me out with something"

"And what is that dear?" She smiled at me

"Well ever since I moved here I have been having these strange feelings" I giggled a little at how strange this was

"A strange feeling?" She flipped through a book

"Yes and well I feel like I am being watched and followed everytime I go close to the woods"

"You…" she looked up at me suddenly

"Have you ever heard of something like this before?" I twiddled my thumbs

"Yes I have but only from certain people and they left years ago" she responded looking back down at her book but her happy face quickly morphed into a face that I could only describe as fear "unless…" she whipped her head up to look at me again "honey what did you say your name was?"

"Oh it is Lucy" she stared at me as a way to tell me to continue "uh… Lucy Heartfilia"

"Heartfilia… no wonder… Layla?" She mumbled every word and I could only catch a few. She seemed confused and concerned and I was equally confused as her. When she called me Layla earlier I didn't think much about it but she actually did know my mom? It's no wonder she mixed us up. But how? How would she know my mom?

"Tell me? Why are you back?! Your mom was supposed to be the last!" She pressed her hands onto the counter as she leaned over it

"My mom has been dead for two years… why are we-"

"What..." she threw her head up and stared at me

"Who are you and how did you know my mom?"

She didn't respond for a moment "I'm Grandeeney, I was your mom's mentor"

"My mom's mentor?" I laughed at her "nothing you've said had made any sense, my mom was born and raised in Colorado"

"Oh so that's what they told you?" She raised up from the counter

I nodded and quickly backed away from her as I noticed she had a new look in her eyes. Of course in such a confined space there is only so far that you can go and I was quickly stopped from going any further by a bookcase. As I hit it a few books fell off the shelf. One of these books opened and a piece of paper fell out. I couldn't make out what the paper said, it was almost as if it was in a different language, but I have studied all kinds of languages and I have never seen these kinds of characters.

I bent down to try and clean up the mess I made and as I reached for the paper my body suddenly was unable to move and before I could understand why my body was flung backwards into the book shelf, this time causing all the books to fall onto the floor

"You're only causing damage, Lucy" her words sounded more like a growl and her eyes… they were different, her eyes were light blue and peaceful when we first met but now they had glossed over and looked deadly. That wasn't the only change in her appearance as I also noticed that her soft white hair had somehow got loose from the braid and now looked spikey, similar to how Gajeel's was. But the strangest thing was that I could have sworn she was covered in feathers and scales.

"What?" But before I could get a good look at her the door was flung open and the room strangely grew warmer. As I looked over to the right of Grandeeney there stood Natsu. He was panting and he looked panicked. His hair was more messy than usual and right under his right eye there seemed to be a couple scale outlines. How he found me may forever be a mystery… maybe

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME HERE," he panted and similarly to Grandeeney his words came with a growling noise "SO TELL ME WHY THE HELL AM I FINDING YOU HERE!" he walked closer to me, if I could have backed away I would because for the first time since we met he scared me and for the first time I truly realized that I should have just gone to school this morning.

"I-" I choked struggling to find the words and then I broke "I'm sorry" I started crying, finally gaining control of my body as I fell weakly to the floor.

As Natsu crouched down in front of me a cool breeze blew into the room and it instantly got colder. The heat I felt seemed to vanish as if it never existed.

"Lucy, why are you here?" He grabbed my face and looked me dead in the eyes, wiping my tears with his thumbs

Another change in his appearance that he had moments ago where snake-like eyes but like the faint outline of scales they were gone, maybe I had imagined it all "something told me to come here…" I tried to lean away from his grasp but it was no use

"Why did your father move here?" Grandeeney was back to her normal self when I looked at her, it was almost as if I had imagined the whole incident

"I...don't know" I admitted to her "but we left Colorado in a rush"

"What did he kill someone" Natsu chuckled under his breath

"What exactly happened to your mom?" Grandeeney decided to ignore Natsu's questions as she crouched down beside me, grabbing my hand

"She got sick but no doctor could figure out what she had"

"She...failed?" She fell backwards at the realization that she didn't dare to believe earlier "no...but… we did everything right" she rested her hands against the wood floor

"Grandy?" Natsu rubbed his hand on her back "what happened?" He was quiet which is nothing like him, he seemed to be quiet for once because he himself was scared...

"Acnologia… he was supposed to be sealed away" her face went pale white

"That is where my dad has been… hasn't he?"

"Huh?" she seemed to be struggling to breathe

"My dad has been gone for a month"

She looked up at me "how long have you been here?" A piece of her long, white hair fell into her face

"A month…" I bit my lip nervously worried that maybe I wasn't insane and something was actually after me

"I met her the day after my dad left" Natsu swallowed roughly

"This isn't good" she grabbed Natsu's shoulder as tears rolled down her face "Layla was our only hope"

#nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #nalu fanfiction #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #wendy marvell

10 notes · View notes

commorsicoclub · 4 years

Text

The First Beat (When Red met Penny)

Prequel to The Good Chase.

(G/T soft vore. M/F. Human Prey, Giant Pred. Fearplay. Mouthplay. Belly rubs. Magic tricks. Snarky prey. Non-fatal. )

“You’ll be on your own starting tomorrow,” said the portly fellow in the driver seat. Maynard was thirty something years Red’s senior and was mere days away from his retirement. He’d been shoved onto the man last minute with vague orders to show the newbie his beat and aquatint him with the idiosyncrasies of the department. “I’ve got a few things still to wrap up before the end of it. It’s not a hard assignment. Boring really. You’ll be glad of it at first, but believe me. It gets old fast.”

Eldridge Park was a middle class neighborhood on the west end of the city metro with its white marble apartment buildings and brownstone townhouses and tree lines streets. It was a nice place and crime was shockingly low so Red was more than a little disappointed to learn he’d been assigned to this particular precinct. He had hoped to be placed somewhere closer to the city center where they had actual crimes. Murders, arson, and armed robbery. Not petty larceny and littering. But he supposed it would look good on his record to have a year or two before jumping to another precinct.

“So, all I do is walk around the park in the middle of the night?” he asked flatly, looking out the window and then to Maynard.

“Not just the park, but that’s the better part of it,” Maynard replied. “It’s a big place, but don’t expect much real action. Worst I ever came across was a homeless fucker feeling up a girl on her way home from a late shift. Other then that, it’s just you and the humans.”

That got Red’s attention. “Humans?”

Maynard’s expression for the entirety of their shift thus far had been a placid neutrality leaning into boredom. But with this exchange, he looked at Red and grinned wickedly. “Oh yeah. Eldridge park is a hot spot.”

Red was no less enlightened. “So I’m going to be keeping hobos in check and arresting vermin.”

“You don’t arrest humans, kid,” Maynard said with a laugh. “Well, on the books we do. But there’s a lot of paperwork that goes with it, so none of us on this beat ever bother.”

“So, what do you do then?”

Maynard reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal case. He flicked it open with one fat finger and pulled a cigarette out. Holding it between his teeth, he struck a match and lit it. Only after taking a long draw from it did he looked back at Red to answer him. “You eat them.”

………………………………………….

The night was cool and crisp against his face as Red followed Maynard through the traipsing paths of the park. It was dark, but the moon was full and they had no difficulty seeing their way. He watched Maynard’s movements, noting the way the older officer walked and where his head turned to look at certain areas of the park. Old habits he’d developed over an entire career and he as eager to know them.

“They’re not too dissimilar to dwarf, but not as sweet tastin’ as elves,” he was saying. “And not as fast either.”

“And the Chief's okay with us just...eatin’ up suspects like that?”

“Humans are an invasive species, kid,” he said. “They pop through these…cripes, what the hell are they called again. Black hole kind of things. The just pop out of nowhere from some other dimension or something. Rivers can explain the science to you if you really want, but for my purposes tonight, we just gotta catch one.”

“How many do you normally find?”

“As little as one a week to as much as eight. You probably won’t see more than two a shift at most. And you better be real hungry if you get three in one night or you’ll have to file the paperwork for the one when the other two are in your belly. And they make a racket too.”

Red wasn’t unfamiliar with eating creatures smaller than himself whole and alive. He was quite partial to Elf, but the wild ones were so expensive and the farm raised just didn’t taste as good. Dwarf was all well and good, but they tended to give him indigestion. Goblins were tolerable, but they always needed a good wash before being anywhere near edible and their skin was an odd texture. They were a bit of an acquired taste and one he never really developed, even if they were the cheapest of all live prey available on the market. But he would treat himself to wild Elf on his birthday or special occasions when he could justify the hit to his wallet.

He normally just stuck to sandwiches.

“If they’re so delicious, I wonder why no one’s tried to farm them,” Red wondered.

“Oh they’ve tried,” Maynard replied. “But they don’t reproduce as quick as other prey so the price of them once they reached eating size would be three times the price of top shelf wild Elf. That and most folks just see them as rats on two legs.”

Rev grinned. “More for us then.”

Maynard laughed and slapped the junior officer on the back. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s see if we’ve got any biters.”

Red obligingly followed his senior officer as he left the main path walked towards a cloister of bushes. Settled inside the thicker portions of the shrubbery, he saw a metal cage. It was empty and had not been tripped. The metal was dark and blended amazingly well within the bushes. He’d only seen it when Maynard pushed aside the leaves and the metal had caught the moonlight.

“I’ve got a good many of these all set up in the park. I’ve got a map in the car of where each of them are. Most human pop through confused and disorientated and try to find small hidey-holes to rest in. Most mistake these cages for a safe little place to stow away.” He looked up and grinned at Red. “Easy lunch.”

Red only nodded, feeling rather curious now. He’d had a good breakfast and he wasn’t particularly hungry, he wouldn’t refuse a little treat. The checked seventeen more traps over the course of the next five hours and none of them had been tripped. Maynard was begging to get a little impatient.

“It’s the perfect night for one to pop through,” he was muttering bitterly. “Cold clear nights are a good sign you’re gonna find one. I still have three more traps to check. Come one, rookie.”

They hit pay-dirt at second to the last trap. Even from a good distance away. Maynard spotted the his trap had caught something and he gave a gleeful hoot and waddled excitedly over. Red jogged to keep pace and could not help but privately ponder to himself that if Maynard hadn’t spent so much of his shifts stuffing himself full of humans, maybe he would be so darn fat.

His attention was abruptly pulled back when there came a shrill cry. There was a small creature inside the metal contraption and he tried to get a good look at it, but Maynard’s fat hand was pawing at it as he tried to open it up. Red was about to offer his assistance when the fat officer let out a “Ha ha!” and he wretched the little metal door open and drew out the prize from inside. The human was a pale pink color and was wearing clothing that looked much the same as an ordinary person would and it looked almost silly to behold it. But he didn’t get much of a chance to study it before Maynard held it up to him.

“Consider it a ‘welcome to the team’ treat,” he said with an oily smile. “She’s a fighter, so probably best to get her down as quick as you can.”

“Let me go, fucking piece of shit, giant ass fuck!” The human was very unhappy and was thrashing against Maynard militant hold on her, but Red was able to smell the distinct scent of fear and her and despite his curiosity to look at her more, to study her, he was all at once rather peckish. Maynard chuckled and pressed the little body into Red’s hands. “Down the hatch, rookie.”

Red laughed, swallowing the excess saliva and tipped his head back as he brought the little human up in the same gesture.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now, dude. No way. No! Holy shit, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...don’t you fucking dare!”

He ignore the panicking mantra from his lunch and slipped her feet onto his tongue. There was a sweet burst of flavor very reminiscent of elf, but it quickly faded into the more deep savory flavor more along the lines of dwarf. Oh, humans were delicious! Complex in their taste and her skin was so smooth. No where near the leathery lumpy affair that was goblin. He hummed in pleasure as he fed her upper thighs into his mouth and gave his first swallow.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, PLEASE DON’T!” Her shrill voice brought him back to reality and his eyes focused in on her face. She trembled in abject terror and struggled as much as she could given her lower half was in his gullet and her top half was firmly being held by his large fingers. He found himself smiling. It was a cruel gesture, but it was instinctual and he relished in the letting the true predator side of himself lose. He wasn’t in a fancy restaurant or a cafe where he needed to mind his manners. This was wild and free and without rules. The true manifestation of what it meant to be the top of the food chain. And Gods did he love the feeling...

He swallowed again and brought the girl’s torso into his mouth. He closed his lips around her neck and let go of her, letting her hang inside him and wiggle as much as she might. She was thicker bodied than an elf, but taller than a dwarf. A perfect middle ground of the two. He felt her little hands pressing against his lips and he almost laughed when one of her hands slipped and ended up slapping his gums. He supposed he’d tortured her enough and gulped hard twice in quick succession, sucking her down into his gullet and sending her on her way down to his belly.

He breathed deeply now that his airways weren’t blocked and he looked to Maynard with an almost fanatical grin.

“Told you,” he said simply. “Tasty little fuckers, huh?”

“Fuck,” was all Red could manage. The human had spilled out into his belly and was now making all her complaints and protestations known by kicking and punching his insides. Such treatment was usually why he did not often partake in dwarf, but the human was no where near as strong and her strikes tickled more than anything. They were actually rather pleasant and he found himself licking his lips, trying to get one last taste of her.

Maynard laughed loudly, watching his junior partner’s sagging belly bounce and wiggle with his lunch’s frantic movements. He reached out and slapped it playfully. “How’d you like your first human, Red?”

“I think I’m a convert,” he replied, wiping the drool off the corners of his mouth.

………………………..

The human did not stop her squirming for the remainder of his shift. But by the time he slipped through his apartment door, roughly an hour later, she had gone quite and he figured she had finally succumbed to his stomach and would soon digest away like his other live meals. Though, he had to admit she had lasted a good while in there. He was almost impressed.

He pulled off his coat and shirt and sat down on his bed to pull off his boots. The maneuver required him to lean down over his own bulging belly and as he pulled off his first boot he heard it. A soft whimpering. And a voice. “..fucking stupid way to die...so fucking hot in here...can’t breathe for shit...smells like ass...”

Red started to laugh and that seemed to offend his lunch enough to spur her into one last kicking fit accompanied by a cry of, “YOU’RE A FAT FUCKING ASS HAT!”

He sat back up and looked down at his belly. “Well if I’m fat, you’re to blame.”

He wasn’t sure if her abrupt silence meant she had passed out or was too surprised to that he spoke to her to reply back. But then she did answer him.

“COUGH ME UP YOU FUCKER! YOU CAN’T GO AROUND EATING PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT!”

Red patted his belly, amused. “Funny you say that. Because I’m pretty sure I just did.”

She kicked him, lower than before and he winced. She’s struck a kidney or something.

“Dude!” she yelled again, but her voice had lost the volume. “Please, just...please let me out...”

“Why?” he asked, rubbing his gut in an almost affectionate manner.

“Because I don’t want to be your fucking food!”

“And yet, you are in my belly. Where food normally goes.”

“That was your mistake, not mine!” He was grinning. He’d never even spoken to his food before. More so because he didn’t speak elvish and the dwarf accents were so hard to understand that he just never bothered. And he wasn’t even sure Goblins had a real language. It was a pleasant change of pace.

“Tell you what, morsel,” he said, his voice low and almost growling. “If you can give me one reason why I should swap you out for the cold sandwich in my fridge, I’ll let you out.”

The human was silent for a moment. “...you promise?”

“Sure. I promise.”

“Like...pinkie swear and shit?”

“Well, I can’t exactly do a pinkie swear with you in there so...”

“Symbolic pinkie swear then!”

“Okay. Symbolic pinkie swear. You just have to convince me you’re worth more alive then as lunch.”

After several moments, he felt the human suddenly shift. “Magic!” she said. “I can do magic!”

That got Red’s attention and eyed his belly dubiously. “Really now?”

“Yup! I can do magic.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I can’t show you from inside your fucking stomach now can I?!”

Red stood up and walked to the kitchen. He flicked the light on and went to the sink. “OK. I’ll bring you out and you can do your magic, but I warn you now morsel. If you’re lying, I’m gobbling you back up and this time...” he paused. “I might just bite a little.”

It was surprisingly difficult to push his food back up once he’d swallowed it. Putting his fingers down his throat didn’t really do much other than make him wretch and his stomach clench. Which the human really did not appreciate. After the fourth failed attempt, he was ready to say fuck it and just go sit and watch TV until his belly finished her off. But he was genuinely curious now and he was spurred on more by annoyance and stubbornness than anything.

“Should...should I...like...help?” the human asked tentatively.

Red growled. “Might be nice.”

He tried one more time was shocked when he felt the warm lump push up into his esophagus. Once it had a good hold on the human, the rest went much more smoothly and after only a few moments, he felt her push up from the back of his throat and her little hands were grabbing onto his tongue and trying to pry herself out. He opened his mouth and plucked her from inside, pulling her from his jaws and setting her down onto the counter. She wobbled on her feet before falling hard onto her knees, too weak and disorientated to remain standing. Her skin was flushed and red from where his stomach acids had began to burn her and he felt a soft pang of guilt. It looked like it hurt. But he steeled himself and looked down at her with a frown.

“Alright, human. Let’s see this amazing magic of yours.” He knew some Elves could do magic and most fairies, but he had never seen any of it. Maynard hadn’t said anything about humans being able to perform magic, so maybe only some could?

The human held up both her hands, showing him the back and her palms as though to prove she held nothing. She presented the back of one hand, the thumb bent inward and used her other hand to place the tip of her other thumb so it aligned with the profile of its fellow, index finger and middle finger bent over to hide the gap. She slid the hand with the tip of her thumb visible back and forth as though she meant it as an impressive deed and the clapped her hands together and presented them both. Each hand still in possession of their thumbs.

It was a parlor trick. A silly hand illusion to trick simple minded children that one could sever the tip of the thumb and magically reattach it with a simple wave of their hands. And almost as though to add insult to injury, the human finished their performance with a tired sounding, “Ta da.”

Red starred, expecting more and when the little human only starred back, he realized that he had been had. There was no magic. Just a magic trick, an illusion and it should have angered him. It should have made him furious and he should have devoured the wretched little liar right then and there…

...but instead he started to laugh. Loudly. He leaned back against the opposite counter and covered his face as the laughter turned into a fit of giggles and when he peeked between his fingers at the human, who was now looking at him with a fearful uneasiness, his laughter was renewed. It an absurd bargain she had made with him, betting her very life on the idea he might be impressed by such a paltry little showing. It was stupid and reckless and oddly...brave.

“S-so...” her shivering voice brought him back. “So...are you going to...let me go?”

He composed himself and regarded the little creature for a long moment and then said, “No.”

She scowled at him. “I knew it! You’re a fucking liar!”

He scoffed. “Me? What about you? That wasn’t magic.”

“It was a magic trick,” she replied firmly. “I just omitted a word. I didn’t lie.”

“Well, in any case I didn’t say I’d let you go,” he replied with a smug grin. “I said I would let you out. Never mentioned anything about releasing you or even that I wouldn’t be putting you back in later.”

The human’s scowl was gone and she bite her lip. As she began to scoot back across the counter, she started shaking in fear again. “Fucking liar...”

Red watched her shake and tremble, easily imagining she thought he meant to eat her then and there and he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to assure her of the contrary. He was having fun.

“I didn’t lie,” he purred as he loomed over her.

“You said all I needed to do was convince you I was worth more alive,” she spat, tears falling down her face now.

“And do you feel like you sufficiently did that?”

“I made you laugh,” she retorted. “Like...a lot. That should count for something, right?”

She was bargaining again, Red mused. “It was amusing, but if that’s all...”

“I didn’t say it was all,” the human snapped back. “I have more.”

Red regarded her with a flat, unimpressed look. “Oh do tell...”

“I can stick my tongue out and touch my forehead.”

Red blinked and his confused silence seemed to give the human the impression he was waiting for her display the odd quirk. But all she did was stick her tongue out at him and...touch her forehead with the index finger of her right hand.

Almost involuntarily, Red smiled and started to laugh again. He paced around the kitchen for a moment and then out into the hall before doubling back into the kitchen, laughing all the while. The human had taken his momentary absence as a chance to hide, but his kitchen countered were sparse and there were only two places to hide. Behind the toaster or inside the bread box. He could see the toaster well enough to know she was not there so he flipped open the box to see the human trying to hide under the remaining half loaf of bread. He chuckled at her and reach inside to pull her out.

She fought, but had grown very weak and could not do much of anything but smack his hand and kick her feet. “Please...please don’t kill me...”

He looked at the human and found that he didn’t want to eat her again. Not because she was not appetizing or that he wasn’t hungry, but she had succeeded in her original task; To convince him she was worth more than being his lunch. She was far too amusing a creature to sacrifice to his belly.

“I’m not going to eat you,” he said and watched her study him as though trying to figure out if she should believe him. “You’ve won your bargain, human. Congratulations.”

She sucked in a breath and shuddered, fat tears rolling down her face. “You’re not lying?”

“Nah,” he replied. “You’re a funny little thing. Might be worth keeping you around for a laugh.”

She held out her hand, little pinkie extended. “Pinkie promise.”

He eyed her. “We already did.”

“Real pinkie promise,” she said. “Promise that you aren’t lying and you won’t eat me ever again.”

He rolled his eyes, but obligingly offered his own pinkie of his free hand to her. “Fine, I promise I am not lying to you and I will not eat you ever again.” Their different sizes made it an awkward exchange, but the little human seemed satisfied enough. He sat back down on the counter and once she was standing under her own power, he grinned at her and licked his lips. “I make no such promises about eating any other humans though.”

She gaped at him, horrified. “Dude!”

He laughed and then asked, “Have a name, human? Or should I keep calling your morsel?”

“My name’s Penny,” she replied.

“Okay, Penny. I’m Red.”

#soft vore #fearplay #non fatal vore #teasing pred #human prey #giant pred #male pred #g/t vore #vore writing #female prey #m/f vore

43 notes · View notes

mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Note

(last one I promise!) Vaxilmore + a kiss to the inside of the wrist

Thanks for the prompts love!!

---

Everything seemed different, brighter somehow. Shaun’s coffee, the good stuff he imported from Marquet at an enormous expense, tasted richer. The light coming in through the windows felt warmer, thick and golden as melted butter. The chatter of his customers was more bouyant, everyone came through the doors in a better mood, they laughed louder, they tipped more heavily. The glittering decorations he hung from the ceiling to make rainbows fall across the floor were brighter with their candy coloured glass and gold chains.

Everything was perfect, a bright and gorgeous day, precious in it’s normalcy. And all because Vax’ildan was here.

He sat on the counter, grinning rakishly, flirting shamelessly with his customers, catching Shaun whenever he came within arm’s reach and kissing him in full view of everyone, playfully pouting for his attention. There in all his roguish glory, brightening up Shaun’s usual routine, getting in the way and making everything better. Vox Machina had been in Emon for three glorious days so far and Vax had spent all of it at Gilmore’s.

Shaun wished the half elf could know how he made his life so perfect. So much would change, if he was allowed to see himself as Shaun saw him.

Eventually the day came to a close, when the sunlight had turned from butter to amber, when the last customer had left and Shaun turned the sign over with a sigh that was half relieved and half regretful. But Vax’ildan was still there, hopping down from the counter and stretching his arms above his head.

“Do people really work this hard?” he groaned as his shoulders popped, “How do you do it…”

Shaun snorted, folding his arms, “You barely did anything, little bird, other than scuffing my counter.”

“Still, it was exhausting,” Vax shrugged, now wandering around the shelves like he’d only just realised the trinkets sitting there waiting to be perused.

It was so good to see him out of armour. Without it he stood taller, shoulders back and chin lifted, not holding himself ready for something to come and try to kill him. Able to wear his hair loose so it brushed his shoulders, black in some lights but able to hold blue, green, purple depending on where he stood. Smiling as a default, someone who didn’t carry the whole future on their shoulders. His little bird, rather than Vax’ildan of Vox Machina.

“Is this magic?” he asked, picking up a music box and turning it over in his long, clever fingers.

“It’s all magic, little bird,” Shaun chuckled, sitting down in his chair behind the counter to work out his takings for the day.

“What does it do?” Vax shot him a grin from across the store, “Will it grant me wishes? Make handsome men kiss me and sweep me off to bed?”

“Certain handsome men have jobs to do before they do any kind of sweeping, my dear,” Shaun indicated the handful of copper coins he was piling into groups equal to a silver.

Vax made a disappointed noise and set the box back on the shelf, “Must be broken…”

He was across the shop faster than Shaun could have believed, if he didn’t know Vax very well. He flopped against Shaun’s back as if his own bones had given up, sighing dramatically, “Some date this is.”

Shaun paused at that, coins becoming loose in his fingers, “Is this a date, little bird?”

Suddenly, the half elf was pressing his face to the back of Shaun’s neck, enough that he could feel the heat coming off his cheeks, “I mean…”

The coins hit the desk with a chiming clatter and Shaun took Vax’s hands in his own, bringing them to clasp at his chest. They weren’t half as quick or clever as the half elf’s, not as calloused from brave deeds, but he did love how they could completely cover Vax’s, hold them safe and secure.

And now he could feel Vax smiling as well as blushing, his lips pressing a soft kiss behind his ear.

Though Shaun’s brow furrowed, fingers finding something on Vax’s wrist that made him stop. He drew them back to see, heart sinking as his fears were confirmed. The wound was just starting to turn into scar, still raised and red and angry. It ran across the inside of his wrist, hard to spot if he’d been careful to keep his arms turned away from Shaun, as he clearly had been all day.

Vax had stilled, like a cat gripped by the scruff, wary and tense, “Pike healed it as much as she could but she didn’t have much left and because it’s on my wrist, it keeps opening back up and...and I didn’t want to bother her again…”

The question was on Shaun’s lips, to ask who or what had hurt him like this. But he knew he really didn’t want to know. He didn’t need more participants in his nightmares.

Instead he pressed his lips to the wound, gently as he could, like such a soft action would wipe away the hurt and make it so it had never been. It wouldn’t, of course, but Vax relaxed, free arm wrapping around his chest, like he was clinging to a piece of driftwood in a storm.

The coins could wait.

“Come upstairs with me, little bird,” Shaun murmured, thumb stroking over the inside of his wrist, “I’ll take care of you.”

Vax gave a soft exhale, like he’d been waiting to hear those words all day.

They didn’t need to call it a date, they didn’t need to name what they had. All Shaun needed Vax to know was that he’d always be here for him, a safe place when everything else was falling to pieces around him.

Shaun only wished he could keep him here.

#vaxilmore #shaun gilmore #vax'ildan #canon era

35 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

825

All About the Letter E

Please List! (at least one)

Animals I Like: Elephants! And emus, mostly because of the Emu War I had watched a video about recently.

Foods I Like: Eggs. All kinds of them. I also like Eggs Benedict, empanadas, eggplants, eclairs, escargot, and I loooove eel.

I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Editor, editorial assistant, editor-in-chief - surprise surprise, I’m a journalism student haha.

I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Egypt and Ethiopia. I also want to go back to El Nido in Palawan.

Sometimes I Feel: Excited, enthusiastic, but mostly embarassed.

Music I Listen To: Ed Sheeran, Eraserheads, Ella Fitzgerald.

Movies I’ve Seen: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Eraserhead, Emperor’s New Groove, Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Ex Machina (the first ten minutes of it anyway), Eyes Wide Shut.

Names I Like: Emilia, Emma, Elliott, Ezra, Eden, Elizabeth.

And now, onto the random questions!

Do you believe in equality? Of course. Reeeally big on it too.

Early to bed or early to rise? Mmm, neither honestly. I sleep way too late to the point of it being unhealthy, which means I don’t get up particularly early either.

Are you early or late for appointments? I get to the venue early, then show up exactly on time.

Have you ever had an ear infection? I have not. I imagine that would majorly suck though.

Do you go see an eye doctor? This implies that I do it regularly, so no. I did have to visit one when I still could because my left eye would feel like there was something stuck inside of it and it hurt to blink. The eye drops prescribed to me didn’t really help and would only provide short-term relief, but I never got to go back and have my eye re-checked cause we were under lockdown by then. Occasionally I’d still get spells of being irritated.

How many earrings do you wear? None. I ruined my left ear piercing years ago so I’ve had to stick with clip-ons, but I haven’t worn any in a while because I’ve lost most of them, because I’m terrible at being organized with such tiny things lol.

Do you care about the environment? How do you help the Earth? Yes, I reduce and recycle whenever I can; I’m very particular about segregating my trash; I save on paper by always folding a page in half if I have to fill it up; and as icky as it is I always pick up trash at public places when I see it – I’ve since had Gabie pick up the habit too. How often do you exercise? Do you go to a gym or do it on your own? The only exercise I get is going on short strolls with Kimi. I do it for leisure, not for workout-y purposes. I did have a rigorous PE class last sem where we’d have to do like 50 pushups, 30 pullups, five-minute planks, lifting 80-lb barbells, etc every meeting and it was honestly a lot of fun; but I was never able to maintain the exercises we did once the class ended.

What are your favorite things to eat? Unhealthy things like cheeseburgers and corndogs, ~fancier desserts~ like macarons and eclairs, savory food like ramen and curry, and seafood. My tastes are all over the place, lmao.

Do you know anyone who is pure evil? I know shitty people, but ‘pure evil’ is pushing it.

Do you get along with everyone? Not always because I can be quite vocal and that doesn’t sit well with some people; and it’s usually easy to tell if I don’t like someone even if I act civil. I always try my best to be friendly though.

Do you have a certain routine that you go through every day? Yes. I need my routines otherwise my anxiety will absolutely blow up. Spontaneity is fine with me but not when it comes to this.

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost everything? Yup.

Is there anywhere you’d like to explore? The rest of the world. For the most part, there’s no place I’d say no to going.

Elevators or escalators? Escalators because at least it’s in an open area, and if it breaks down I can just go up or down as if it were stairs.

What do you do in the evening? Dinner, play with Kimi and now Cooper, and I usually take my surveys by evening. Sometimes I’ll make a cup of coffee too.

Have you ever been evaluated for anything before? Yes, both as part of a group and just me, individually.

What’s the worst you’ve ever done on an exam? I got the lowest possible grade that my old school offered once or twice. In college, I once got something like a 40/100 in an economics class HAHAHAH

Are you easily exhausted? No, as long as the weather cooperates. If it were hot and humid I’d be a lot more sluggish.

Do you like visiting exhibits? Depends on the subject. < Same. I wouldn’t go to an exhibit that would get too technical on engineering, for one.

Have you ever felt exiled? I’ve felt that in my home many times.

Have you ever felt like everybody was talking about you? Yeah, but I don’t feel like opening up that can of worms right now since it’s a complicated story lol.

Have you ever entered through an exit sign or exited through an enter sign? I’m sure I have.

How have humans evolved over time? In a lot of ways. We’ve lost some tiny body parts, changed our mindsets on stuff like slavery, changed up our fashion sense, removed and added words from/onto our vocabulary, developed our cuisines, etc. I highly recommend Bill Wurtz’s ‘history of the entire world, i guess’ video haha.

Would you ever consider eloping? No. Not to sound ignorant, but I genuinely mostly don’t know what that entails since it’s not really a part of our culture. One thing’s for sure though, I wanna get married with a bunch of people watching.

If you could erase one mistake from your past, what would it be? I wouldn’t call it a mistake because it was who I am at the time...but I hate the fact that my college experience is forever stained with how much I sulked during my freshman year.

When’s the last time you’ve used email? How about sending something through the mail in an actual envelope? For email, it was like a week ago when I had to reply to a company emailing our org to endorse their internship opportunities. I don’t think I ever sent anything to anyone through mail...? I’ve written handwritten letters, but I personally gave them to the person it was meant for.

Do you dye eggs at Easter time? Nah we only did that once.

Is the glass half empty or half full? Depends on the situation, for me.

Have you ever had elbow macaroni before? Sure! My favorite recipe is Mama Lou’s truffle mac and cheese. Soooooo savory and so, so unfairly good.

Have you ever fractured or dislocated your elbow? Never. That sounds awful. I’ve seen arm wrestling matches go wrong and those were bad enough. Do you know how long an era or an eon is? An era is dependent on events, isn’t it? Like the hippie era, the grunge era, etc. My understanding is that they are socially defined and therefore don’t have a set time period. I believe an eon is an very long but unspecified amount of time. I’m trying to remember this without Googling, so I could be wrong, but those are my interpretations of the words. < There ya go. It’s a little too late in the night for me to be up for defining either in my own words haha.

Do you chew the Extra brand of gum? I don’t think so. I don’t think we have that here.

When was the last time someone showed empathy towards you? Few weeks ago when I was horribly sick and dad willingly took care of me, gave me sponge baths, and listened to every single one of my requests.

Did you have an Elf on the Shelf growing up? No. I’m not sure I know what that is.

Is your bedtime closer to eight or eleven? Eight...AM. :(((

Would you go around the world in eighty days? Nah I’d want to stop in too many places. You can’t see a country in a day. < True. While I was very much in love with my cruise vacation, it also meant that I just had an afternoon to explore as much as I can of South Korea and Japan. And I wish I had more time in both places.

Did you turn eighteen in high school, or afterwards? Shortly afterwards. My graduation was in March, I turned 18 by April.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

2 notes · View notes

hunnywrites · 5 years

Photo

Arcade Dreams: Chapter One

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: When being introduced to the Midnight overlaps with the third season of Stranger Things being released, you write a Billy Hargrove fic. He’s trying his best to become a soft boy, but instead you all get this mess of a slow burn fic.

Christmas break was surprisingly more lively in Hawkins than Teddi had anticipated. The Hawkins Family Video store and the Palace Arcade were always pretty popular during weekends, sure, but in the few days since school had let out she had found herself bouncing back and forth between the two shops because she and Keith were seriously understaffed. She didn’t mind it. Everyone in town was surprisingly nice, and a lot of the kids that stopped into the arcade were pretty entertaining. There was one group she had taken a liking to. Max Mayfield and her gang always managed to make a shift more exciting, and she loved helping them give Keith grief.

She had popped into the arcade about twenty minutes ago and found them spread out among the games. Max seemed to be missing, but there was a new girl that had tagged along the last few nights. Apparently Chief Hopper had a daughter she hadn’t known about. Not that that surprised her. As of that week she had only been in Hawkins for two months. Her family had moved there from upstate New York after her dad had been laid off. Now they lived in a really crappy place that seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere even for Indiana. It was why she had taken the video store/arcade job to begin with. There was no way her parents would be able to pay for college now. So now she was desperate for as many shifts as she could get from Keith on top of looking for a second job.

Since the arcade seemed to be relatively peaceful for a Friday night, she was focused on the video store now. Keith was forcing her to play that god awful animated Rudolph movie on repeat to get customers into the Christmas spirit. If she had to listen to that elf talk about how he wanted to be a dentist one more time, she might actually lose it. She was bouncing back and forth between the register, restocking and organizing shelves and rewinding tapes people had returned. She was so busy that she had managed to drown out those awful claymation characters and the sound of a roaring engine outside. She threw a “Welcome to Hawkins’ Video!” over her shoulder when she heard the bell on the door jingle as it opened.

She was tidying up the holiday display when someone’s shadow loomed over her. “You work here?” a gruff voice asked. Teddi looked up, eyebrows together in confusion as she tried to imagine what this guy could possibly be so huffy about.

“Sure do,” she said as she stood. She was immediately met with the smell of cologne, cigarette smoke and spearmint. “What can I help you with?”

Teddi vaguely recognized him after a few moments. They went to the same school. She didn’t entirely remember his name, but she knew he was kind of a dick. Very, very cute, but kind of a dick. “I’m stuck watching my lame ass step-sister while she’s grounded. Her mom told me to rent some videos to keep her occupied over the weekend.” he said rolling his eyes.

“Oh! Well, that’s actually pretty sweet of you. I mean I’m an only child so my mom always just threw me in front of a TV while I was growing up…” she trailed off. It was obvious he didn’t care. Teddi cleared her throat. “Sorry. Um, so what’s she into?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at Teddi like she had grown a second head. “How the fuck should I know?”

“Isn’t she your sister?”

“Step sister.” he corrected shortly.

“Right…” Teddi pursed her lips while she thought of a suggestion. Cute but dickly blonde boy shifted impatiently. “Chick flick?” she asked. He made a face.

“Jesus, no. She’s not into all that girly shit.” he paused for a moment. “I don’t know, she was Michael Myers for Halloween. You got anything like that?”

Teddi perked up. “Oh, totally! Here, follow me,” she waved at him and took off towards the horror section. She glanced over her shoulder quickly at him. “...You go to Hawkin’s High, right? You’re on the basketball team? I’m Teddi. I just moved here so you’ve probably haven’t seen me or anything…” she was rambling again. She always did that when things were quiet. She hated quiet.

“You’re the weird girl that argued with the science teacher for like half an hour over crystals.” he said bluntly. Teddi let out a nervous laugh. She had to admit, it was a little embarrassing to remembered by cute but dickly for arguing that crystals did in fact have healing abilities, and no it did not have anything to do with the movie The Dark Crystal.

“Yep...yep. That was me…” she was fairly certain she heard him let out a faint chuckle. “So uh, keeping in tone with the whole holiday horror she might like this one,” she plucked a copy of Black Christmas off the shelf and handed it to him. He gave it a quick look over and gave an approving nod. “And these are just some really good ones. You can’t pass them up.” she handed him Sleepaway Camp, Alien and Carrie. She hoped it would be broad enough range to keep his sister occupied and happy.

He scanned each VHS quickly. “Right...thanks. Hopefully this’ll keep the little shit happy.” he muttered.

“It’s no problem. If she likes them there’s plenty more where those came from.” she said leading him back to the front counter. While she was checking each of the movies out she was completely oblivious to the fact that cute but dickly was now aware that his focus was no longer on renting movies and that Teddi was a girl. A cute, but weird, girl that he had yet to put the moves on.

“...I’m Billy, by the way. I forgot to introduce myself earlier.” he grinned, leaning against the counter and turning on a sudden charm he definitely hadn’t had when he first walked in. Teddi had bleached blonde hair that was cut into a bob that just barely reached her shoulders. Her lashes were so long and thick that he couldn’t tell whether they were real or fake. Freckles speckled her nose and she had a metal hoop in her right nostril. She was also wearing glittery lip gloss that managed to sparkle even under the fluorescent lighting of the video store. He barely got to get a good look of her “Hawkins’ Family Video” shirt that was about two sizes too small and black cut off shorts before he was caught.

“Oh, it’s fine we were bus-...what are you doing?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

Billy stood up straight, his grin fading. “...What do you mean?”

“You were just looking at me like I’m like a cheeseburger or something,” she snorted. Billy looked at her like she had grown another head yet again. “Does that actually work?” she asked, her nose scrunching just a little.

Billy clenched his jaw, resting both of his hands on the counter. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he spat. It only made him more annoyed when Teddi let out a giggle. If it was one thing he hated, it was being laughed at.

“Nothing. Forget it,” she slid the tapes towards him. “Ten bucks. They’re due back Monday.” she said with an amused smile. Billy only muttered, reaching into his back pocket and digging his wallet out. He tossed a ten down on the counter and snatched up the tapes. “Enjoy the movies!” she said sweetly.

Billy rolled his eyes and nearly stomped back out to his car. He hated Hawkins. He hated how cold it was. He hated how festive everyone got around Christmas. He hated that he was stuck at home with Max all weekend, and he hated that Teddi had embarrassed him. Fuck Hawkins, he thought as he slid into his Camaro.

“Took you long enough,” Max muttered, crossing her arms. Billy ignored her and tossed the tapes into her lap before throwing the car into reverse. Max silently studied each of the movies. “These look pretty good...you picked these out?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Billy fished his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and placed one between his lips. “The girl that worked there picked them out,” he mumbled before lighting it. “I told her you liked Halloween.” for some reason that excited Max.

“Teddi?” she asked, turning to face her step-brother.

Billy cast a sideways glance at her. “Yeah...you know her?”

“She works at the arcade too. She’s really cool.” Billy scoffed. What did Max know about cool? He supposed to a geek like Max and her friends that maybe Teddi seemed cool. He sure didn’t see it.

“She’s weird.” he argued curtly.

Max gave him a knowing look and smiled. “You asked her out didn’t you? She said no didn’t she?” she asked excitedly. Billy gripped the steering wheel tightly.

He bit back his initial response. “She’s not my type.” he said simply.

It was Max’s turn to scoff. “You don’t have a type. Girl is your type. She’s too smart for you anyways-”

“Max, do you ever shut the fuck up? It’s bad enough I have to spend the weekend with you. Do you really think I give a shit about what you have to say about some freak that works at the video store?” Max only rolled her eyes. Ever since the night Billy had come to find her at the Byers’ house things with Billy had been slightly better, but not great. Her step-brother was stubborn. And while she was sure she had put the fear of God in him that night, Max was sure there was nothing that would be able to match his attitude.

Billy leaned forward and flipped the radio on to signal he was done with the conversation. He drummed his fingers against the wheel in sync with the beat and pretended Max was no longer there. But still, the fact that he had actually tried to find movies she’d like instead of grabbing whatever was closest let her know he didn’t completely hate her. If anything he was crabby because his ego was bruised from whatever happened between him and Teddi.

Max was positive Billy had tried to ask her out. Lucas and the guys all had a crush on her. She was into all the same stuff they were, and she was nicer than Steve. Max had found herself wishing a few times that Teddi could be her step-sister rather than having to stick around Billy. Or at the very least she wished that Billy wasn’t such a jerk and that Teddi would want to date him. Maybe make him chill out some.

Max’s mom and Neil weren’t home when they pulled into the driveway. Usually on the weekends they went out and she and Billy wouldn’t see them much if they were home. Which wasn’t often. Both Billy and Max liked to avoid being home as often as possible. Max followed Billy inside and kicked off her snow-covered boots, hanging up her coat and rushing over to the TV. Billy tossed his leather jacket onto the back of the couch and headed for the kitchen. Max heard the pop of a beer can being opened.

She decided to watch Black Christmas first. She popped the tape in, settling own on the floor to watch. She barely even noticed Billy standing awkwardly in the doorway. “...You want popcorn or something?” he finally asked. Max tried to mask her surprise, instead smiling and nodding. He disappeared into the kitchen once more, making sure to slam cabinet doors and the microwave as if he were being forced to cook up popcorn.

Billy returned a few moments later, plopping down on the couch and setting the bowl on the table in front of him. Max moved from her place on the floor to the couch as he kicked off his boots and leaned back into the couch. He rolled his eyes as she gave him a happy smile, grabbing the popcorn bowl and settling into the couch herself. While he still wished he was out with some girl he could pick up at work, Billy supposed this wasn’t the worst way to spend the weekend.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x oc

29 notes · View notes

inkdrinkershadowsinger · 4 years

Text

Thoughts/Background on Chamber of Secrets

There simply cannot be neighborhoods like this, where there are miles upon miles of cookie cutter homes that stretch out into the horizon. Does anyone know if this is a real shot? Or did they multiply the houses like they do to extras in a battle scene?

I never noticed that this photo album is this detailed. There is a little J and L on either side of James and Lily’s photo here. Hagrid is an artist.

It’s on every page? Was this supposed to be something that Hagrid found from Godric’s Hollow? How did he get something so specific? Or is that rumor true that Hagrid owled Lily and James friend’s and Remus, who had been left things like this when there was no one else left to claim them, got it off his bookshelf and sent it to his best friends’ son?

I like how Harry’s room progressively becomes more his own. Look at it in this movie, the walls are bare, everything is relatively tame and plain verses in Order of The Phoenix, when Harry’s room has distinctly more decoration.

Those pink candlesticks are ghastly.

Harry, my darling, you have been getting letters it is merely a well meaning house elf who has stopped them. I wonder what everyone else thought about Harry’s silence? Especially Hermione. Did she think for even a moment that Harry and Ron had decided that they didn’t want to be her friend at all? Ron isn’t much of a writer, and Harry wasn’t responding. I don’t want to know what kind of a mind fuck that must have been to 12 year old Hermione who had just got home from “magic school”, and none of her new “friends” were responding to her letters.

We have heard that theory that James is Harry and Sirius is Ron, etc. But Dudley is Petunia. Dudley and Harry were raised in the same house, closer than cousins because of location alone. But whereas Petunia never got over the resentment that she felt towards Harry in book seven Dudley was more concerned for Harry’s well-being when they were leaving for the safe house then I think Petunia ever was if Lily ever mentioned how hard and dangerous things were getting during the First Wizarding World. Dudley received some characterization and growth where Petunia never bothered.

Harry sounds so sarcastic when he says that.

Dang! Every time Harry leaves his room he has to see a pencil drawing of Dudley’s face? The Dursley’s cruelty knows no bounds.

All of this decoration, and the shelf are missing from the first scene with Harry in this movie.

Harry is just like, “Fuck it all.”

But he’s got manners galore.

At this point, Harry has never seen a house elf. He has no idea what a house elf does. He has no idea why one would be in his bedroom. He has no idea that this even is a house elf? Why is he so calm? This could be a blood thirsty toga wearing creature that they only study in seventh year, and yet, Harry is all but like, “Can I take your coat, sir?”

And now he’s crying, (those could have been lethal gas releasing nerve agents), and now he’s hitting himself (gearing up for attack.) Oh, Harry, number one at defense my arse.

And their champagne flutes are pink? You can’t buy taste.

Those people look so offended like, “You have a cat? How common.”

I know that the fanon is that wizarding children all heard bedtime stories about Harry Potter, but Dobby is proof that other beings also heard about Harry’s triumph over the Dark Lord.

Who painted that picture on Harry’s wardrobe? Dean Thomas, fanon artist. Or does Harry Potter have latent creative talent? Or can you buy these out of the Hogwart’s catalog? Lol

Dobby is like, “Oh, shit, I should not have said that.”

This is where Harry’s Gryffindor really shows because he could just lie to Dobby, but he doesn’t. It’s that Gryffindor honesty.

The man is just like, “Oh, look, cake. Neither of them even looks angry.

Vernon bowered Niall Horan’s hat for this scene.

Harry sleeps with the scrapbook right by his bed. Someone shoot me.

I love that to Ron, Fred, and George that this is a completely normal thing for them to be doing. None of them look nervous about flying a car in a Muggle neighborhood. Destruction of property? Who gives a fuck? They are just like, we have to do what we have to do for our bud. Just a regular drive around.

Hedwig is very annoyed at being called a pigeon.

Ron knows to appreciate the simple things. Tell you mate Happy Birthday, no werid shows of masculinity here.

I love the Burrow. I love the position of the Burrow. I love that they are surrounded by land and a little pond. I love that it is secluded, and that it looks pieced together.

The inside of the Burrow is stunning. You have the Farm House sink. The detailed windows. The hardwood surfaces. The eclectic but perfectly fitting furniture. It would be considered chic to many a Muggle. And that DOOR, that opens up, and then also opens out. The extra space above that little cubbie. Fireplace. Hand, or magic, knitted blankets.

There is a wooden orange cat, a la, Crookshanks on the fireplace there.

Ginny is me.

He says, “Morning Weasleys.” Like they are a clan. He could totally use that tone and call them all to action.

I feel like Mrs. Weasley could sound more disappointed here. I feel like she is kind of annoyed, but also kind of interested in their little stunts as well.

The stainglass windows, the open placement for the dishes, like this house is amazing!

“Dumbledore must know that you’re here.” So, the headmaster is the one who can keep track of the placement of certain students and their whereabouts, or is this simply a case where Mrs. Figg informed Dumbledore that Harry had taken off. Can you imagine that letter? Like, “Super sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but it seems as if Number Four Pivet Drive has been attacked by three red haired boys in a flying car. The red haired youngsters seemed to be on quite friendly terms with Mr. Potter however, as they helped them into the flying vehicle. Just thought that I should mention it.

Sincerely,

Arabella Figg

So, does Appartition take a lot out of a witch or wizard? Why don’t Mr. and Mrs. Weasley just apparate all the kids to the Diagon Alley? Is there such a thing as flooing by twos or threes? Because that would also be useful. Are there many fireplaces lining Diagon Alley like the tones that are shown in seven part one in the Ministry? Where to they floo into? Just one of the thousands of questions that need answers, Mrs. Rowling.

There is a gilded head of an elephant behind Harry’s head before Harry examines closely a cabinet that seems to follow a very tight skull aesthetic for maximum creep.

On the top shelf, there seems to be a lamp? A magical one?

More skulls. The hand of glory, that is mentioned in the books. And then a vase full of eye balls. This place is a health hazard. I know the wizarding world lacks mental health professionals, but you’re telling me they don’t have health inspectors?

Harry looks like he has been covered in spiderwebs. When was the last time that Floo was used?

Who are these random people just immediately accosting a twelve year old boy?

They pass a book seller. Knowledge is the root of all power.

The sign in front says from top to bottom: Quality. Value. Ease. Style. Then I think, Variety.

Hermione is internally shrugging because of course her ride or die new friend is covered in ash and has broken glasses. Of course, he is.

The girl behind them as they walk away looks back at them like, “Oh, Harry Potter.”

The fashion and lighting in this movie went from drab and seventeen hundreds to really flamboyant and really stylish with bright colors. I love that the dashes of color really followed them into the other films. Even Prisoner of Azkaban with its more muted color scheme is still vibrant.

The front page that reads: Gilderoy Lockhart gives Wizarding Wolrd Hero Hygiene Tips. Ash free for the cameras, always.

They are literally crammed into the bottom floor of this shop, and Draco Malfoy has an excellent view from above?

Ginny’s got some balls. Love her. All the boys are silent, and she just ain’t taking no shit.

Like Lucius, it is not okay to fondle people’s foreheads, you creepy mother f-er.

Hermione is a bad bitch. Like she knows how dangerous magic can be know, and yet, she doesn’t back down from this grown wizard.

They are all dirty. What happened to scourgify? Or were they scouring grate after grate trying to find Harry, and just didn’t have time after the relief of finding him? Literally, no one else is dirty.

Ginny’s trunk has a Hogwart’s emblem. And we all know the Weasley’s use hand me down items. Whose trunk does she have?

Like Ronald, this is not logical. Dang! I know y’all aint in Ravenclaw, but you are twelve years old. This is basic.

“Your hands all sweaty.” This is no time to be a snob, Harry.

So, did the car fail because they hit Hogwart’s wards? That would seem logical for its sudden failure.

It could also be why the Womping Willow attacked the car so viscously. It may have sensed that this car doesn’t belong to the grounds, and thus, could potentially be a threat. So, it tried to dislodge and pulverize the threat.

Pete, you rat bastard.

This car knows its way around Hogwarts? Or did some of the sentient magic that is in Hogwarts take over the car, and that is why it saved Harry and Ron when they were in the forest with the acromantulas.

To make things more environmentally friendly. The Daily Prophet should have a self updating paper, that changes with each news day. People can still buy the others, if they want to keep them for posterity, but I mean, come on, save the planet.

I feel like this is just a flashback for Snape. James getting away with everything and now Harry.

And Ron, is just so used to getting caught out by Mrs. Weasley, that he just instantly thinks that he is going home.

The look on Snape’s face is so sad here. Will no one ever take this man’s side?

I like this overhead view of the greenhouses. I like the idea too, that there are several levels of greenhouses. The ones that we see in this movie are close to the castle and are set for first and second years, but then the Greenhouses that we see in Half Blood Prince are set away a bit from the castle for the upper years. And some are just for Professor Sprout.

There are little dragon statues on top of the greenhouses. That’s a bit ironic.

Do you think that those large pot like things hanging from the ceiling are

Like, how common is getting petrified, that this would be in second year school book. Also, why were they being grown in the first place if there uses were so rare.

Headcanon that Neville truly developed an interest in Herbology when he fainted that year. He went back to see what work he missed, and Professor Sprout was just straight battling some giant carnivorous plant, and just kicking the fertilizer out of it, and Neville helps her. Then she shows him something else, and something else, and talks about all the things that plants can do, and what they are capable of achieving. “But that’s normally a lesson I reserve for the older years.” But Neville doesn’t want to wait, he wants to do it now. He goes back to the common room with several borrowed books from Professor Sprout, and he is never the same again.

We are legit just going to leave a student lying on the ground. Are we? The wizarding world is really survival of the fittest.

There is a studious Ravenclaw behind them there, reading away.

Neville still has flashbacks to be honest.

When the wizarding world doesn’t have cell phones to yell at or embarrass your children with, you hit them with a howler. Respect.

This DADA room is surrounded with pictures of Lockhart. All the frames along the side of the room are pictures of Lockhart. Bless this man.

This painting of Lockhart is painting a picture of Lockhart.

He bought those Cornish Pixies on the Wizarding Web.

Is that a skeleton of a hippogriff handing above them there?

Even the pixies have had it with Lockhart’s shit books.

The painting Lockhart runs out of the way as well.

Hermione is a baddie.

Hogwarts is so beautiful.

Flint, Wood is tired of your shit.

Hermione and Ron smell trouble, and are like, “I’m going to get me some of that.” Because Gryffindors.

Clap back Hermione.

I love that in the book everyone reacts to what Draco calls Hermione. I wish they would have included that a bit more in the movie.

Ron must have learned that from somewhere, but instead of someone helping him, they just laugh.

This interaction here with Hagrid and Hermione always melts my heart. I like to think that Hagrid is one of the reasons that Hermione worked so hard later in life for the protection and promotion of creature rights. Hagrid being a half giant.

Hagrid is number one. Let’s be real.

Where can I get this level of staged photograph when I go to the Wizarding World in May?

Lockhart is like, “Dang, the fame is already getting to this one. What a shame.”

Harry hears someone threatening to murder people, and of course, he runs right to them.

If Tom Riddle had a giant, most likely extremely hard to kill snake, why didn’t he just try to ride it on out of Hogwarts, take over Diagon and flatten everything? Why didn’t he come back for it during the first wizarding world?

Ron is not down with spiders, and neither am I.

Look, this may be a controversial opinion, but I love Mrs. Norris, and I think that her and Filch are cute and are not to be messed with.

Let’s be real, Filch has been hearing for a solid year from Snape about how Harry Potter is such a little shit. That rage has got to come from somewhere.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry thinking that they were just about to sneak off. Dumbledore is like, “Bitch, please.”

Hermione, Harry, and Ron: “Is Snape taking up for us….actu….oh, wait, of course not.”

I feel so bad for Filch here. That cat is probably the only thing in the whole world that he actually loves.

McGonagall has a large number of zoo like cages in her classroom as well. Her classroom is also very symmetrical, from the two blackboards, to the candles in the front of the room.

Draco and Goyle are reluctantly impressed.

That is the beautiful thing about libraries. There is an unlimited amount of information available at any point in time.

I’m glad that there is at least one adult in the common space for the students. Is that supposed to be Madam Pince? Or a helpful teaching assistant? We all know that the teachers at Hogwarts have an intense work load.

Why is there a spider depicted on the woman’s head in this book?

I just imagine that every time that Harry is in the air that Ron and Hermione experience quite a lot of anxiety.

I can just hear Lucius in the stands saying, “We do not show off for such people.” When the snitch is right beside Draco’s head.

I feel that Lucius grew into being a good father when the threat of his family became a reality. I think before he judged Draco by too harsh means because things were always rather simple in his mind. He thought he was the best, and Draco should be too. But he was humbled, and became a better father because of it.

Dobby strictly uses the word, “Enslavement” here. That word makes what Hermione does with Spew seem less radical.

The table is decorated with the phases of the moon.

Snape rises from the crowd like a ghost.

How on Earth did Lockhart get Snape to agree to do this? He had to have accosted him in the staffroom or during a meeting when Snape couldn’t get away.

“Severus, I really think it would be a great idea. We could really give the kids something exciting, riveting, and imaginative.” It is only when McGonagall tells him that he could probably get Lockhart on his perfectly pictured arse a few times that Snape considers it, and eventually concedes.

The most iconic Drarry line ever. “Scared, Potter?” “You wish.”

Can conjured things kill people? Or are they just charms? Is the pain temporary, or a real solid thing that can seriously damage?

Is this study hall?

Harry Potter has the crappiest luck ever.

Some of the headmasters and headmistresses seem to be still. I like the idea that all of the professors that get promoted to that level get to be immortalized whether they would like to put apart of them inside of a portrait or not.

I really like the idea of Dumbledore as a scholar and an academic, so I really like that they show all of his scrolls and books.

I feel like Fawkes dying and then being rebirthed among the flames is a really poignant thing for Harry to experience at this stage in his life. This image of the phoenix dying, but still having life probably stuck with Harry and it might have been something that he thought about when he was preparing to walk into the forest in book seven.

Hagrid has got Harry’s back, and I love it. He is a really good friend.

This image of the Black Lake frozen over, and the students being pulled across it’s icy surface is stunning.

Hermione was training to join MI6 before she got her Hogwarts letter, and no one can tell me differently.

Are flying treats that common that Crabbe and Goyle are just like, “Dead on.” It must have been a cute thing that there house elves did for them when they were children, levitating treats or toys in the air for them to grab. Or their parents showing them magic and giving them treats at the same time. Otherwise, how would they have ever thought, “You know what? Excellent and safe idea to eat these random treats.”

Harry literally doesn’t know here which one is Crabbe and which one is Goyle.

The Slytherin common room looks way more lush then the Gryffindor common room. I feel like you can see really clearly into the Black Lake there, and since it is frozen over, the light that you see is light blue instead of green. I mean, look at how big there common room is. It looks like they have a designated study area and everything.

Draco, don’t be the stereotype of rich boys who steal. Just don’t.

Myrtle is not to be fucked with, bro.

A young Tom Riddle for sure got this one year for Christmas at Wool’s orphanage before the war started, and things got so tight that they couldn’t even afford three meals a day. Then, like everything in his past, he transferred these basic Muggles things to something more extraordinary, like him.

Tom Riddle in this movie is a hottie. Like, y’all can’t even fight me because there is no denying his killer beauty….get it?

Okay, so are we thinking that during this flashback that Tom’s soul piece is not only aware that Harry is watching a scene from his life, but is also, acting out the part of himself? He is the director and the lead, so to say.

I like this sequence because it shows more insight into who Tom Riddle is, and where the fear of death started to come from. I wish that Rowling would have made this connection more thoroughly for the viewers of the movies. A single mention of there being too many bombs, or a lot of fighting by Tom here when he is talking with Dumbledore would have provided some more insight into this character.

Ginny knows how to do some damage. I think it would have been easier for them to figure out. Girls can get up boy’s dorms, but boys cannot get up to girl’s dorms. It would have had to have been a Gyrffindor. The common room couldn’t have been completely empty. Hermioen could have fact checked this, and figured out who had wrecked their dorm.

Look at those game plans back there. I just envision, Oliver Wood drawing frantically on the blackboard wild circles that simulate flying motions, but he goes too quickly for everyone else to understand what he’s saying, and thus, the only one who knows the plan is Wood, himself.

Did they show Colin’s friends his frozen body? Or Penelope and Justin’s? Not one person in this school thinks of the potentially traumatizing circumstances that they are putting these kids through.

It is popular fanon that McGonagall and Riddle went to school together. From this perspective, it would be doubly as traumatizing for her to hear that the school could be closing again.

Ron is me. I ain’t messing with no mother flipping spiders.

Ron is no help in this scenario. Absolutley none.

Harry replacing Hermoine’s flowers, and thus subtly telling the viewers how much time has elapsed.

Harry is wickedly smart. He is also very logical which I think attributes a lot to that sarcastic personality that he has.

McGonagall has some Slytherin in her for sure. She went from worried to blasting Lockhart in 2.5.

Lockhart packed up really quickly. It was almost like he….. had….experience…leaving…quickly.

I wonder if Lockhart’s victims ever got any retribution after he wound up in St. Mungos. It’s almost certain that his sales went up when he got admitted to the hospital just because of the public’s sheer curiosity and gossip mongering.

Salazar Slytherin was one slick mother f-er. “I’m going to hide my chamber in the bathroom.”

I can just imagine Riddle not having a lot of time in between OWLS and what not, and taking the easy way out and opening the Chamber whenever he could just to chuck down dead rabbits and chickens. Forays into the Forbidden Forest were many for Tom’s minions back then.

Honestly, Lockhart, Harry probably wouldn’t mind if you took a few of his less than pleasurable memories.

Tom Riddle also has that innate need to be polite even though he’s about to stab someone just like Harry does. Or is this a British thing?

I love how the villains in these movies say, “Potter.”

That does not look like the hole that they came down? It looks like Fawkes took them up another exit.

Why is Dumbledore trusting Hagrid’s release papers from the wizarding world’s worst prisons to a twelve year old? To a twelve year old Ron Weasley at that.

It looks like Dumbledore has a crystal ball by his desk. Trying his hand at divination? Or is that how he keeps track of all the students? I need to know what headmaster powers enable him to do all of these things.

Jason Isaacs is super fine. I can even deal with the wig. In fact, the wig makes it better.

It looks like Dumbledore’s office is located outside of the courtyard which makes the scene in Order of the Phoenix when Fred and George are comforting that boy all the more poignant.

#Harry Potter #Chamber of secrets #Harry Potter thoughts #Harry Potter movie thoughts

3 notes · View notes

leviosarpg · 5 years

Text

Congratulations, SNOOZE! You have been accepted for the role of AMADEUS AVERY! Snooze, where do I begin with this app? When I created Amadeus I knew I wanted depth, but Snooze, you gave me so much more depth than I could have ever dreamed, I mean for goodness sake, you gave me an entire diagram! Your app genuinely captured me from beginning to end. From Amadeus’s relationship with his sister, Isolda, to his fascination with Ancient Runes, I was beyond blown away with how you managed to flesh Amadeus out into a fully actualized person--a living, breathing wizard. But what put this incredible app over-the-top, was your incredible second para sample. Despite bringing so much depth to Amadeus, you still manged to highlight his cruelty in a way so gut-wrenchingly perfect, know I will remain in complete awe for the rest of the night.

Your faceclaim change to: Keith Powers has been accepted. Don’t forget to send in your account to the main and complete the items listed on the CHECKLIST!

THE PLAYER

name/age/pronouns/timezone: Susan (though I prefer Snooze); 18; she/her; PST

THE CHARACTER

desired role: Funny story! Amadeus was actually not my first choice. I was trying to figure out who to apply between Bishop, Odin, and Silvanus. I got my Amadeus inspiration from brainstorming for Bishop, because I was asking myself, what kind of dude is Bishop listening to? Then I got into a rabbit hole and tada! Amadeus app.

Here’s the thing: Amadeus is nothing like any character I’ve played/written before. I tend to be attracted to characters who stand in the middle, who are struggling with a decision, torn between two sides, who don’t want to check the option boxes presented to them and who seek to make their own paths. But Amadeus grabs my attention. He grows up with a solid foundation and he’s sure of himself. He knows exactly what he’s doing. What happens if things deviate from his plans? He may be smart but he’s only eighteen. There are things he doesn’t know and situations he hasn’t experienced. His relationship with Seneca is so, so intriguing because how in Merlin’s name can a person like him has feelings? I’m also a sucker for secret/forbidden romance, so there’s that. I want to let him suffer and make mistakes — I want to see his growth and how the war and certain secrets will change him. He’s a volatile little guy. Anyway, read on!

gender/pronouns: he/him; cis-male

extracurriculars: In addition to the pre-selected ones, Amadeus is also in Astronomy Club, Charms Club, and Dueling Club,

para sample:

Note: The first sample I have no specific year in mind — it could be Amadeus’ fifth, sixth, or seventh year. The second one takes place in the summer of Amadeus’ fifth year.

Also! To prevent any confusion, since I wrote the app non-chronologically, Isolda is Amadeus’ little sister. They are eight years apart. Isolda was kidnapped in the summer of Amadeus’ fifth year, and he was the one who tortured and killed her kidnapper afterward.

————————————

Amadeus dressed in the dark, glancing at a mirror that only outlined the dark silhouette of his body, as the sun has yet to rise this early in the day, and he broke the unbearable silence by humming quietly a tune whose origin he could not recall. His mind was still groggy from the ten-hour sleep he’d indulged in yesterday. Stifling a yawn, he snatched his wand from the nightstand and whispered a Reducio to his trunk.

When he was about to leave, the door to his room cracked open, letting in a sliver of darkness against the grey carpet of the floor — the hallways had always had a tendency to cloak itself in pitch-black shadows, even darker than his room. A small figure entered.

“Where ar’ya goin’,” Isolda muttered, her words slurred together because she certainly shouldn’t be up at this time. Amadeus frowned, turned on the chandelier light with a wandless wave, and kneeled down to see her face-to-face.

“Hogwarts, of course,” he replied. “I would’ve stopped by your room before I leave, you know that?”

She nodded, though she didn’t seem convinced. “Papa said the same when he was going to Turkey, but he didn’t.”

Amadeus sighed; his father may be a great man, but he never remembered his promises. He hoisted Isolda up and tucked his left arm underneath her legs so that her face was buried in his neck, then he walked to her room. His nerves tingled while going upstairs, but his parents, he thought, were still deeply asleep and thus unlikely to appear and shake their heads at his physical display of care. It was a shame that Isolda was born into a culture of rigidity. She was too emotional for her own good.

She was already sleeping when they arrived, so Amadeus laid her gently on her bed and pulled the blanket over her. He fished from his pocket a small set of papers, upon which he’d copied numerous alchemical formulas from Hogwarts’ library. Surely she would have a grand time looking through them until Christmas.

After that, he called for Milsy, their house-elf, to make sure that his notes to his parents would be delivered when they breakfasted later. Shrugging on a suit jacket and a hat, he left the Averys’ premises with his miniaturized trunk and apparated away.

Amadeus stopped by Hogsmeade Post Office to drop off several contract packages for his father, then he headed to Borgin and Burkes. The air was so foggy and saturated that he felt as if he’d just swam the Thames.

“The Tome of Cleopatra,” he demanded upon entering. The man working behind the faux-wood table pursed his lips and sniffed his rat-like nose twice, but Amadeus only needed to lift his eyebrows to kick the man into gear. Anyone who didn’t recognize him may as well sign a death warrant — a social one if he was in a good mood or a literal one if he wasn’t. While waiting, he eyed a pair of gilded cufflinks sitting in a glass box on a shelf. Diamonds decorated their surface, glittering brightly despite the dust that had settled on the box. They were certainly expensive and a fitting gift for someone he knew. He may have to lift some curses, but that shouldn’t be too hard. Small, probably unnoticeable, easily excusable price, perhaps …

No, no. Amadeus let the temptation slide. He should not be so careless — nor should he, for that matter, assume that the action would be appreciated. The man returned, slamming the thick book on the counter, and Amadeus felt dread creeping up his spine.

Merlin helps me, how can I go through this whole thing?

He slid the pouch of Galleon over and left with the tome. Seeing a beggar on the side of the road, he spat on the old woman’s face, then, for good measure, kicked her can of coins as far as possible. He wanted to make other people feel as miserable as he suddenly was.

The damn book. These damn feelings. This bloody muggy weather. What rights do they have to make him feel like a failure? Nothing! He was fucking Amadeus Avery! His throne sat on a wealth of power and money and he knew how to keep and better them. The economy of Wizarding Britain lay in his palm. The rich magic of this planet was his to command. He was not a failure.

Platform 9 ¾ was, as expected, empty, with only a couple of stragglers here and there and two shady individuals whispering near the ticket station. The Hogwarts train was here though, and its doors were unlocked, so Amadeus entered and claimed a cabin for himself. On the cabins of the Gryffindors he carved a mild curse of bad vision, created a few weeks ago, and hoped that it would kick in at opportune times during Quidditch matches, though there was a large chance that he guessed the cabin wrong or that the curse would have already petered out by then.

Satisfied with his task, he returned to his cabin and lay down on the bench, drifting off to a quick nap.

————————————

Trigger warning: Violence, gore, death, vomiting, torture

Money changed hands, and Amadeus stepped inside the cell where Isolda’s kidnapper was sleeping, resting, so peacefully that Amadeus felt his hatred burst out like a cobra springing to tear apart its prey. The man shifted on the stone floor. Amadeus gripped his wand tighter and thought, if you know what’s good for you, you will wake up now, a clumsy attempt at Legilimency, but he didn’t care for it had succeeded. The man’s eyes snapped open, deranged and red, and a half-smile tugged on the corner of his chapped, bloody lips.

“What’s this?” he spoke, voice hoarse and tinged with amusement. “Come to kill me?”

He stared down at the wretched piece of shit that didn’t deserve the mercy of the Dementors with his back straight, his voice steady, and he said, “Yes.”

The man mustn’t have expected a direct answer, as his expression faltered for a moment, but he went on, “Yeah, let’s do it then.”

“Not yet. Petrificus Totalus.”

The spell hit true. Amadeus shrugged off his suit jacket and set it on the floor; then he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, unhurried, for he had all the time in the world, all the while he flickered brief glances at the kidnapper to gauge his emotions, which had become more muted, more cautious, and, to Amadeus’ pleasure, more frightened.

Amadeus placed his wand on top of his rumpled suit, popped a collar button open, and kicked the man’s stomach hard. The man’s back slammed into the wall with a satisfying crack. Amadeus kicked again, this time to the man’s chest, and heard the pleasant sound of ribs breaking. He went on, and on, and on, lost in the vesuvian rage, in the rhythm of grunts and the thudding of soft flesh. At one point Amadeus straddled the man’s body and started punching his face, aiming everywhere he could—cheeks, nose, mouth, forehead.

“You think you can insult an Avery and leave unscathed?” Amadeus shouted, panting from the physical exertion. “You touched my sister, filthy mudblood, and I will make you fucking beg to be killed by the end of this.”

He stood up and backed away a few steps, grabbing his wand.

“Petrificus Totalus, Petrificus Totalus, Petrificus Totalus,” Amadeus intoned.

The man’s muscles seized tighter, tighter, until he was shaking and sweating and the veins in his neck were bulging, until several loud snaps rang loud, the sounds of ruptured muscles and tendons, and Amadeus felt the delicious, ugly glee in him morph into a grin. He released the spell, but the man remained in the same position, cursing, pleading, tearing up.

“Crucio.” A roar of pain; the man’s body arched up.

“Crucio.” Nonsensical babbling for mercy; empty promises to do whatever the Averys wanted. Too late.

“Crucio.” Eyes rolled up; a drooling mess; broken whimpers.

Amadeus paused. He breathed. He calmed his pounding heart. He’d gone further than he had ever been, and his fingers were trembling, maybe from the magical drain, maybe from the bleeding knuckles, maybe from the horror that was beginning to overcome his fury. But—Isolda, he thought. The rational part of his mind was yelling at him to stop, retreat, recalculate, for he, frankly, didn’t know where this was heading toward, didn’t know if he would jump off that cliff of indecision and into the chasm of immorality, passing the point of no return, staining his hand with the blood of another.

So Amadeus delayed. He transfigured all his buttons to thin needles, then he crouched down and held up the man’s hand. The hand that dared take away Isolda.

“Ennervate.”

This was the part he would not remember, the part that would appear blank were he to search for it:

Amadeus lined a needle to the tip of the man’s index finger and pushed it in steadily, watching life, awakened by pain, returning to the man’s dull eyes. The man screamed, wildly, uncontrollably, all his self-control gone. Amadeus kept on going: middle finger, ring finger, pinky. Deaf to the howling, he repeated the procedure to the other hand, half of his mind a far distance from reality while the other half drew on courage from hatred. Afterward, Amadeus stabbed the man in the stomach with the knife in his pants’ pocket, once for every hour Isolda was missing, methodically, as if hypnotized. He switched to the thighs once he ran out of space.

Finished, Amadeus moved back and took stock of his handiwork. The darkness of night hid the worst parts, but somehow he could still make out every bruise, every cut, and every bit of blood that littered the man’s body. The man yet lived.

“Merlin,” he murmured.

He pointed his wand to the man again.

You’ve got to mean it.

He’d done this before, a dozen times, but only to kill insects or to pretend to kill Isolda’s monster in the closet, never to a human.

You’ve got to be calm. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a five-way duel, find that moment of silence in your head.

He reminded himself that this—this was worth it. For Isolda. For the Averys name. Or, if not, to end the man’s suffering.

Aim, draw on your willingness to kill, and be swift. Like snapping your fingers.

“Avada Kedavra.”

A flash of green, and then, the end.

He put on his suit jacket and cast an illusion over himself. Money changed hands, from a quivering grip to a hesitant palm, and Amadeus apparated back home. All of the lights were off, and he stumbled down the hallway, noisily, but only one elf appeared. She asked what he needed, but he didn’t reply, so she followed him as he opened the door to his room, crossed the bed, pushed forward the bathroom’s door, planted his hands on the sides of the sink, looked at himself in the mirror, and saw, as reality closed down on him like a strangling noose, the wretched face of a murderer and the wide, panicked eyes of a teenager yet to be of age.

He threw up. For a while.

“Milsy,” he called after his stomach stopped churning, throat still burning from the acid and nose thick with the scent of vomit.

“Yes, Master?”

“Get me some warm milk.”

“With three spoons of honey, Master?”

“Yeah.”

The house elf went away.

Now facing his reflection alone, Amadeus glared at himself, as if disgusted with his inability to contain the appearance of shock, and he said, “It was a good kill.”

Then, again, with more bravo, “It was a good kill. Your first one too.” He paused. “You need to learn that sooner or later, so it doesn’t matter either way. Father did it when he was eighteen. Mother when she was twenty. Everyone does it.” Not to mention it was a befitting punishment for taking away Isolda for thirty six hours.

And so he kept on going, muttering to himself, repeating what he’d said, making it a mantra, making it his truth, a truth that he, perhaps, could live with.

OTHERS & EXTRA (OPTIONAL)

FC: Keith Powers!

Extra Content!

Disclaimer: I’m 100% down to change some details of what I wrote below, since a lot of them involve my cursory interpretation of the rest of the characters. Also, I try to explore his relationship with Seneca as much as possible, but I don’t want to delve too deep until I talk to Seneca’s writer & discuss some details.

BIOGRAPHY (Intro, Hogwarts, Tom Riddle): An imaginary piece of writing by Amadeus, briefly exploring his past and his years at Hogwarts. Note that this represents his perception of the world around him and does not necessarily reflect reality, especially when he boasts about his accomplishments. This is how he wants people to remember him.

LETTERS I WILL NOT SEND, WORDS I WILL NEVER SAY: Short, non-chronological pieces that Amadeus “writes” (the exact mechanics are explained in PERSONALITY section) and burns as an outlet for his emotions for Seneca. Amadeus only pens these when he’s overwhelmed with feelings, so they may seem excessively sentimental.

PERSONALITY: Self-explanatory.

HEADCANONS: Things that I can’t fit into other categories. This part may seem really messy because I was jotting down thoughts as I go, so I apologize in advance!

THE DIAGRAM: Because I got lost in Amadeus’ complexity. It’s in a separate photo submission.

————————————

BIOGRAPHY

Introduction

August 15, 1942

As the heir of the Illustrious and Ancient House of Avery, it is traditional that I record the events in my life for future generations to peruse. For this is merely the first draft, I shall save the typical long-winded introduction for later and get started on the story.

My parents are a good match, perhaps the best there has ever been in the Avery line. My mother is Calista Avery, the Averys’ Matriarch, and my father Sivert Solberg, heir to the prominent Solberg line in Norway. They met during the Autumn Ball of Marseilles and was engaged three years later, in 1925. Their marriage was a winter one, brilliant and luxurious with six hundred and eighty two guests from Britain and Norway. Sivert adopted our name as per traditions of marrying a Head of a family, and I was born about two years later in the summer solstice of 1928. I should have had two sisters, but my mother miscarried once, so now it is only me and little Isolda, who is eight years younger than me. She will be attending Beauxbaton three years from now, and we are, naturally, very excited, for our private tutors have affirmed that she has talents in Alchemy. I was jealous of her for a while — Alchemy, after all, is the field of famous wizards such as Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore. But I later realized that her work would bring her to the shadows, to the edge of the crowd, while I, heir and a genius myself of the Dark Arts, would have the spotlight. I have stopped my unwarranted competition with her since and have fully devoted to train her to be worthy of the Avery name.

But enough about my sister. My name is Amadeus Avery. I have no middle name, for I am in the shadow of no one but myself. The Avery name is powerful, the Avery blood more so, and I plan to be the greatest Avery to have ever lived. I was born June 22, 1928, a day brimming with magic and, coincidentally, also the birthdate of the 5th Head of the Averys. My birth was a hard one, for I was my mother’s first child, twelve hours in total, a sign, apparently, for my stubbornness and determination. I grew up in a household of emotional detachment — not apathy, I must clarify, as I always know that my parents love and want the best for me. Public and private gestures of affection are much frowned upon, and we show our care through indirect means — material goods and gifts, the sharing of secrets and inner thoughts, criticisms and advice (how else could we maintain the image of a perfect family?).

My parents have had rough times — the aftermath of the first miscarriage when I was six, for example. My mother shut herself from my father, and he, frustrated with the isolation, left the country for two weeks, during which he had a tryst with some Ukranian lover. My mother, too, went out more frequently to meet with, I had guessed, her own lover, and sometimes my tutors and I would be the only inhabitants of the house. The Lestranges and the Rowles had had a grand time with the gossip then, I remember. At some point, I’m not sure when, my parents properly talked with each other (thanks to my uncle’s insistent; I have mentioned, of course, that my family does not explicitly express emotions) and the issue was resolved. Their connection and loyalty, strangely, only grew stronger. Perhaps the bad streak in their history motivated them to shine even brighter than before. Isolda’s birth when I was eight smoothed over the last of the scars, though I knew they could never forget their first daughter, Leona Avery.

Up until six I was showered with toys and magical trinkets, with bedtime stories of the founding of the Dark Arts and the beginnings of the Averys in the Fertile Crescent. We are part of the Sacred Twenty Eight, but such title is inconsequential, for the Avery name has, for the better part of the Wizarding World’s history, though not without ups and downs, garnered much reverence from the general populace due to our natural inclination to the Arts of Old Magic, recently defined as the Dark Arts by the more ignorant. My first accidental magic occurred when I was seven months old — hunger had compelled me to call upon all the chocolate cakes reserved for a party later — and after I learned to speak, my paternal granduncle, the former Norwegian Head of Law Enforcement, came down to teach me the basics of manipulating magic. Afterward tutors taught me, only the best in London, among which are a former assistant to Nicholas Flamel, Vice Chief of the Auror Department (my maternal aunt), a descendant of the Gamp family, and the reigning Champion of European Dueling Tournament (though she only started when I got into Hogwarts).

I mastered the curriculum of Hogwarts’ first year when I was nine, and after that I branch sideways instead of forward (it was later explained that my physical body needed to catch up with my magical prowess; balance and harmony are important in the making of a strong wizard like me). We possess two libraries worth of tomes — one in the current Averys mansion and one in our ancestral home in Babylon (formerly known as the Babylonian Society of Ancient Magic). Books are not my forte, as I learned better with practical demonstration, but they nonetheless are an incredible source of knowledge. I delve into the arts of occlumency, legilimency, necromancy, ritual magic, blood magic, bone magic, runic magic, demonology (rather too obscure and unstable to be feasible, sadly), various branches of hex- and spellcrafting, ancient Egyptian and Roman curses (those people have a fascinating imagination, I must admit), and the lighter sides of magic such as arithmancy and charms. When I entered Hogwarts, I was not a master in any of those fields, but I knew enough to be one of the top students, and my sheer power was often enough to overwhelm my opponents.

Hogwarts

I have been aware of pureblood politics since I could read, but to be thrown into such a large body of students was a nasty surprise. Slytherin, the microcosm of pureblood society, was filled with intricate schemes and power plays between noble houses, a network that I at first found it hard to engage in, for the Averys had never been terribly friendly or popular. We stand above everyone else — because we are, indeed, better than most — and the purebloods, with their fragile egos, often take offense to our supposed arrogance. It is the Lestranges, the Rowles, the Malfoys, the Blacks, among many others, whose voices are heard and frequently recited. I struggled for two years to gain a footing in their network to no avail until I realized that I did not have to do so. I am Amadeus Avery, and I need not their acknowledgement. As soon as I stopped participating in their games, I became respected. They value me because they understand my importance, because they see my influence despite not being the top of their food chain. And so I gained my footing in pureblood society by refusing to acknowledge its presence. My parents were proud, and that Christmas they gifted me a brilliant case of jewelry stones for me to practice my blood curses on.

In school I focus on the Dark Arts, Charms, and Ancient Runes — the rest are unimportant to me, though I maintain respectable grades. I am far too busy with my projects nfor silly creatures or, Merlin forbid, divination. Astronomy is decent, but the subject is impossible to enjoy because the Blacks are so disgustingly vocal about their naming traditions. The teachers are merely satisfactory — none of them seemed to appreciate my talents in Dark Magic. Their responses typically fall into two camps, wariness or jealousy. Horace Slughorn is slightly better than most, as his Slug Club provides immense networking opportunities for like-minded individuals. It is where I developed a friendship with Tom Riddle — rest assured that I shall expand upon this remarkable person later.

I discovered the joy of inter-house rivalry in my second year when I became Beater for Slytherin’s Quidditch Team. Ivon Blaine was particularly entertaining. He’d always been weaker than me in all aspects — save for some lucky instances on the Quidditch field, of course — and I wholeheartedly enjoyed taunting him. He’d always been so easy to rile up, so easy to manipulate, and I, who had recently discovered my sharp tongue, was only too thrilled to test it on him. Gryffindors have always been so embarrassingly brash and physical — it is absolutely nauseating how they publicly display their affections and weaknesses out in the open air, as if they are desperate to be hurt. The duels were mere exercises to me, though they had the side benefit of elevating my reputation. Ivon became predictable as time passed, however, and I stopped enjoying our little games. I had better things to worry about — Grindelwald, for instance, and Tom Riddle’s vision. Though riling up Ivon no longer brought me as much joy as it did before, I am still rather entertained by his reaction whenever I speak to him.

Bishop Vermeer is a Ravenclaw that I respect. I met him during my fourth year while preparing for my OWLs and was impressed with his intelligence, which rivaled mine. He listens more than he speaks, but his interjections are always insightful and helpful to me, and so I come back to him as a friend, always, for his ears. We work on projects too, mine more often than his. I think he is too smart for his own good — he is never swayed by my honey sweet words, even though he sometimes pretends he does, and I am both disappointed and pleased by that. Had he been more weak-willed, I doubt I would have respected him as much as I am now. It is a shame that he is not more zealous about Riddle’s cause, but when the time comes, I have faith that he will side with us. If not — well, I would not wish to face him, out of respect for our companionship.

Tom Riddle

He was a bit of an underdog, I must admit, and him being quite mum about his origins except when absolutely necessary (at least during his first year at Hogwarts) hinted at his blood status, though now I dare not think about it, for his legilimency skills far outstrip my occlumency. His cause gripped my attention the moment he mentioned it in the Slytherin common room, and I remember being vocally supportive of it, for, with the current politics surrounding Grindelwald, I recognized immediately that his ideas would bring us far. Tom Riddle is a revolutionary who will usher in an era of greatness, of pureblood culture and appreciation for real magic, not the childish stuff that Hogwarts teaches. I intend to be at the forefront of this movement alongside Riddle. I will make a name for myself.

You may wonder why I am not the leader. First of all, I have no wish to make an enemy of Riddle — we may match in dueling prowess, but he is, I am reluctant to admit, hard to outwit. Furthermore, he has a better hold on the purebloods than I do — as I have said before, the Avery name is respectable, not popular. Riddle has a way with words that is gently persuasive and malleable. He knows how to push buttons. Let him lead the movement and I be his loyal soldier. The position is prestigious enough that I can contend with not being the top. His ego and mine sometimes clash, but I try to keep to his good side more often than not. We share details of our projects, though he tends to work alone rather than in a group, and he absolutely detests me offering help.

I suppose I shall mark this as the temporary end of this biography. I intend to update this as frequently as possible.

————————————

LETTERS I WILL NOT SEND,

WORDS I WILL NEVER SAY

My grandmother, a famous jewelry collector in her nineties, gave my father a ring of blue zircon, who, in turn, passed it down to me. It sat in a drawer back in my room, only to be worn during Christmas balls. The ring was thick and ostentatiously ornamental, heavy on my middle finger every time I wore it, and I complained all the time until I was five and learnt the art of formal presentation. The ring is a sign of power and a reminder that my parents are of two famous lines, and it often sat next to the Avery heirloom ring on my index finger, glinting, mesmerizingly blue, always distracting me when light shines at the right angle. Tonight, when I saw you, when I looked into your eyes, I thought of my ring, and I wished, for but a brief millisecond, that we were better, that I was better, so that I might, perhaps, be brave enough to —

[ … ]

I did not see you today, but I was frightened for you, for us. Charms class ended early, so I was traversing the hallway, sketching in my head a new design of some anti-apparition wards, when thoughts of you filled my mind. I remembered our kiss yesterday even though I tried not to — at least, not until I was safe in my dorm. I couldn’t help smiling. Then, Tom Riddle rounded the corner, and I froze. My heart dropped, my mind emptied, and I willed my face to express something close to pleasant surprise. You cannot imagine how fearful I was. It isn’t close to my fright for Isolda when she was kidnapped, but it is certainly high up the list. Had he been searching in my mind, we would have been discovered, and the fallout, though may seem inconsequential at first, could only be catastrophic to me. Everything would have been ruined, and the choices I would have to make were unimaginable. But he wasn’t searching, thank Merlin, and I would have known if he was. I am entertaining the thought of avoiding you for a while until I could calm down. I know I may hurt you, but you must understand that I have to control myself, I have to set boundaries, or else I —

[ … ]

You were worried today, and I am not sure why. Had you been anyone else, I would have attempted to persuade an answer out of you, but strangely I complied with your request not to pry. You have no idea how much control you have over me, and I am frightened. I cannot see our future, though I must admit that I always strived not to think about our future; there are too many complications there that I cannot resolve, and I cannot bear the thought of you absent from my life, much as I loathe to admit such weakness in myself. I want to enjoy the present and only the present. Sometimes, you are the only outlet for my emotions. Sometimes, we are strangers. Sometimes, you scare me to death with your glances and your smiles and your kisses. I have thought about breaking things cleanly between us, because the stakes are becoming higher and higher, and yet I never manage to do so, because to break cleanly is to admit that there is something to break, and because I simply —

[ … ]

Sometimes I believe my parents are clay figurines carved with human features and charmed to be alive. Their expressions are stiff, their emotions strained, and they always seem most at ease with blank countenances and frigid glances, with careless words and calculated touches. I remember vividly that they barely touched Isolda when she was returned to us, a mess of a child, eyes red and dress muddied. My mother touched her hair, and I could not tell if she was too frightened to do more or if she simply detested public displays of affections so much that she would ignore her own child’s trauma. I was the one who scooped Isolda up in my arms and soothed her cries. I tried my best anyway. No one has ever done such things to me. You may wonder why I am telling this story, and here is why: I noticed that you were distraught today. You were hurt, and I hurt for you, but I could do nothing to alleviate whatever burden you were shouldering. I was too busy struggling with my confusion toward you. I do not know what to do. I do not know what we are. I asked myself how I could grow to care for you when I was not built for such emotions, how I could be in —

[ … ]

For a moment I feared that our secret was exposed, but we both performed well the role of casual acquaintances in class today, don’t you think? I am relieved that despite certain progress in our … companionship, we are still capable of maintaining a facade of normality in front of the masses. Tom Riddle, I think, suspects I am hiding something, but he cares far too much for his pet project to figure out. He’s never been too invested in our personal lives. If worse comes to worst, I could still tell him about my projects on developing possible resistance to the Killing Curse and mass-producing Inferi through a variant of a demonic rune design, neither of which, unfortunately, are straightforward enough for practical use, but they certainly will satisfy his curiosity. On a side note, I wish so fervently that I could buy you a better gift for your birthday, but alas, I could only lie about my expenses for so much, and the size of your gift could not be too large. My wish manifested in my dream three nights ago. In it we were happy, had been for months, and I, on that brilliant winter day, like a bloody muggle, horrifyingly, was on my knees —

————————————

PERSONALITY:

Amadeus is …

Arrogant: He believes himself to be better than everyone else due to his magical might and his bloodline tracing back to the beginning of civilization.

His arrogance doesn’t quite manifest in speech (like, say, Draco Malfoy) but in his body language, his stance, the way he looks at people, the inflections of his tone. Taken alone, his words may seem casual and respectful, but coming from him they could be the worst insults.

He doesn’t care that people are weaker because of their circumstances. He cares that people are weaker than him, period.

Hypocritical: He criticizes the actions and personalities of other people but does not admit to himself that he sometimes shares those characteristics and does similar things.

For example: He thinks displays of affection are a weakness, yet he treasures his moments with Seneca and loves Isolda. He claims that he doesn’t care about Venus’ (or Odette’s) popularity, but he is actually jealous that they, along with the Lestranges and Rowles, have the ability to influence a crowd. He preaches that you reap what you sow, but when confronted with the consequences of his actions, he will never admit his faults. He believes Olive Hornby ridiculous for being contradictory in her actions (a guilt-ridden bully), but he is a creature of dichotomy also.

Judgemental: The number of people he respects or gets along with is small due to his tendency to either be critical of their differences (compared to him) or be jealous of what they have that he doesn’t.

Obstinate & Ambitious: Once he has a goal, he will never budge from it — for instance, nothing can shake him from his desire to be the best Avery there ever has been. It is difficult to change his mind about anything, including first impressions of people and ideologies.

Cruel: He is cruel not because he wishes to hurt (unless under certain circumstances) but because he is naturally unsympathetic to most.

But he is also …

Passionate: Though he is raised and tries to be otherwise, Amadeus is a passion-driven individual.

He loves magic and the Dark Arts, loves its instability and its potential for good and bad, and he delves into research with a furious fervor, never stopping, always wanting to have more, know more, always wishing to break the limits and go beyond what is known.

His jealousy comes easily. Amadeus grows up thinking he has the world in his palm, so he’s jealous of anyone who seems to be better than he.

He absolutely adores Isolda, at least once he gets over his jealousy, and he showers her with love and affection to a level that would be frowned upon by his parents had they known. He thinks she is too soft to be an Avery — she was born to be compassionate, and the rigidity of his parents hurts her, so he will lessen that pain for her in any way possible.

As an unintentional consequence of his love for Isolda, he also comes to like her pet hippogriff (a species of smaller size, fitting to live in a mansion) despite his vocal denouncement of anything creature-related.

He has deep affections for Seneca Montague — love, perhaps, though he’d never admit it — and despite his best efforts to contain these feelings, they are too much to keep inside, always threatening to spill out, and he has to compartmentalize his feelings, sometimes unsuccessfully.

Clever: He has a different brand of intelligence, but his mind, full of knowledge, always proves to be useful.

He may not be the best strategist, but he can process information incredibly fast and skip to a conclusion in lightning-speed. He works best under pressure and during duels.

He has an instinctive grasp on spellcrafting and runic magic, though he tends to lean toward the latter. He’s like a genius computer programmer or an engineer. He knows the pieces and he knows how to put them together; when they don’t work, he could easily tweak a bit here and fix a bit there to craft better rune diagrams for long-term curses and charms.

He cannot, for the life of him, read theories, but after a single demonstration, he can understand even the most complex alchemical concept

He figures out a way to compartmentalize his feelings for Seneca so he will not have to acknowledge them:

In the moments he shares with Seneca, he will not think of the repercussions. When he is not with Seneca, he will try to put him out of mind.

Sometimes when he feels too much, he would put his feelings on paper — using a quill charmed to inscribe his thoughts — and then he’d burn it. The reasoning is that if he makes it physical and then destroys it, whatever that is bothering him would stop existing. He doesn’t read these paragraphs, nor does he physically write them, so it’s easier for him to deny his feelings.

A downside to this compartmentalizing method is that his mood can swing widely from hour to hour, and often he wonders if it would someday break him. It works for now, so he doesn’t care much.

He is proud of …

His dueling skills: He has lost to no one except Tom Riddle and occasionally some members of the Harbingers & Liberation.

His runic diagrams: They are his own creations, and he is proud and thrilled to see them in action, no matter how destructive they could be.

His knowledge: He is well-versed in the rules of Wizarding economy and pureblood politics, and he was taught to keep up the prominence of the Avery name. Magically, his knowledge is shallow but extensive, and he frequently reads (or tries to read) to gain more information.

The murder of Isolda’s kidnapper: He tortured her kidnapper before finally killing him. It was his first kill and first usage of the Killing Curse on a human at the age of fifteen. Deep down, he’s horrified at his actions, but he successfully convinces himself to be proud because he could never admit that he feels guilty — a feeling that does not exist in the Avery household.

And he hates …

Nothing, which is what he would’ve said to himself, but in reality:

The isolation of the Averys: He envies those who can participate in pureblood politics and loathes that he is often pushed to the sides. He may pretend that he doesn’t need them, that the Averys doesn’t need to be a participant, but he is, nonetheless, lonely, because he doesn’t belong properly in any community.

The rigidity of his parents: He thinks his parents are too stringent with their emotions and believes Isolda is harmed because of that. Subconsciously, he blames his parents for his cruel nature and doesn’t want Isolda to live through his loveless childhood.

A subject that belongs in neither categories is his relationship with Seneca, which he loves and hates at the same time. He likes Seneca beyond the boundaries of friendship, but he hates defining what they are. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that he’s making a mistake, perhaps the best mistake in his life, and he’s waiting for the inescapable fallout.

HEADCANONS

What’s his attitude toward muggles?

He believes in all of the stereotypes: they are dirty, primitive, stupid, and ignorant of the true beauty of magic.

He’s actually really into classical music (once he finds out about it through William Brown, unintentionally) but he wasn’t aware that most of the composers are muggles

What does he do in his free time?

Runic projects; finance planning/investment with his father; whatever Riddle wants him to do at that time;

His relationship with Ogden:

Good relationship until the end of 6th year when Ogden approaches Amadeus about an apprenticeship in Ancient Runes. Anyone would’ve been ecstatic, as it’s a rare occasion that a sixth year would be offered such opportunity, but Amadeus was angry. He couldn’t believe Ogden would offer him such a lowly career option, and he has a sneaking suspicion that Ogden wants to supervise his work more closely to prevent him from “falling” to the darker (and purer, in his opinion) forms of magic. Their relationship has been tentative since then.

His runic experimental room arguably shows more aspects of him than his dorm, which is often under the scrutiny of his dorm mates

Amadeus stopped bullying Ivon in the aftermath of Isolda’s kidnap. The taste of real violence and death has dulled the entertaining value of sharp words and silly duels. Amadeus turns his focus to bigger targets: necromancy, darker runes, deeper & more ruthless manipulations using money that will keep him in power. He’s also more focused on Riddle’s cause, and his runes projects also take up more of his times.

Wisdom and Power, to Amadeus, go so hand-in-hand that he’s never thought that it is more Ravenclaw than Slytherin. A trait he shares with Gryffindor is how passionate he can be, though no one really knows this except Bishop & Seneca. People do know that he hates easily though.

Motto for anything too sentimental is: React first, break down later

He was taught that “Power amazes, but money drives the world.” Despite this, he’s more attracted to raw power than wealth.

Doesn’t do well with criticism, especially from people he doesn’t care about.

Will initiate duels when called for.

He can convince himself to believe in false things.

Physical marking:

A horizontal scar on the side of his neck: A kitchen house-elf once went insane and injured him as a kid with a knife; said house-elf was killed but the knife was cursed so the scar doesn’t go away. Amadeus always illusioned it or wear clothes with collars.

Amadeus doesn’t quite remember this, but the incident is one of the few times that both of his parents touch him — keeping the wound close, healing, using salve, but he was too out of it to recall properly. He was seven.

Doesn’t have a fear of knives, but if someone is to lay the blade of one on his skin, that will kick in his fight-or-flight response and (depending on the situation) he will react.

Fashion:

He’s big on fashion

Style: Expensive, trendy but not gaudy, wear accessories to show off wealth (cufflinks, rings, modified ties, shoes, etc.)

Boggart:

Its form varies; but the two forms he’s faced is the burning of the Averys mansion (signifying the end of the line, which would be his fault) and the body of Isolda (recalling the kidnap incident).

Wand: spruce wood, 12-inch, dragon heartstring core

His spells are powerful and flamboyant, often attracting the attention of other people.

Amadeus has a sweet tooth.

He also cannot hold his liquor. He’s a touchy drunk.

He produced a Patronus once, during his fifth year, a hippogriff, unsurprisingly, but he hasn’t tried again since he killed Isolda’s kidnapper, telling himself it is unnecessary while actually thinking that he can’t do light magic now that he’s killed a wizard.

House Elf Treatment:

The Averys aren’t cruel but they do think that the elves are beneath their notice. The Averys, powerful as they are, does know that house-elf betrayals can be destructive, so they strive to inspire loyalty

He’s got no sense of self-preservation:

Because he thinks he’s invincible. Also he gets excited when faced with a challenge.

Likes to write but dislikes reading:

He actually doesn’t hate reading. He just has a very specific taste for a writing style & anything that doesn’t fit the bill makes him bored. He especially hates translations because they’re so dry.

He’s bad at defense magic - he likes to be on the offense & doesn’t guard himself much

The three P’s of Amadeus: Proud, Powerful, Private

He loves to low-key taunt people he dislikes, especially back when he was still harassing Ivon, and he lets his tongue lose when he’s angry. He also speaks his mind when he’s in the company of people he trusts.

He’s very ignorant when it comes to his emotions. This is by choice, not because he’s dense.

He (lowkey) admires Dumbledore because of how powerful the man is, and he secretly wishes that they are on better terms. Their ideologies, unfortunately, create a barrier between them.

To him, wisdom is …

Tom Riddle: knowing how to play the field, how to manipulate, how to be in the spotlight and claim it for yourself

Knowing everything - hence his attempt to branch out laterally

Naively, he also thinks being wise means never makes a mistake

Amadeus is verbose in writing but succinct in speech, touch-starved yet would never initiate body contact:

The Averys household is emotionally distant but not apathetic. Amadeus grows up understanding that display of affection is a bad thing, but sometimes he mistakes this with emotions are bad. His parents’ love for him is measured with material goods—their meanings, their quantities, their qualities—though of course, their meanings are exceedingly easy to misinterpret. Writing is an outlet of emotions in the Averys household—letters to their parents when they are abroad & when Amadeus is in school, notes delivered by house-elves (their mansion is very big)—thus, Amadeus shows himself more in writing, though it always seems to be otherwise. He masks his sentiments with pureblood politeness on paper, and only those close to him (his family) could read between the lines and understand.

He was taught the concept of formal presentation when he was six and learned how to check his speech. He became more succinct and direct or persuasive and round-about when needed.

Half of the time what he says isn’t really what he thinks/feels, but he has a habit of convincing himself that what he says is always the truth, so it becomes a falsehood in him that he never notices, and from this born his hypocrisy.

The Averys household frowns upon body contact except when absolutely necessary, and so Amadeus grows up, without noticing, touch-starved. He’s hyper-aware of the distance he puts between him and other people and the casual touches he received. He, therefore, treasures his moments with Seneca, but also are scared of them, of the body contact, of physical displays of affection that he knows nothing about. He’s always hesitant, testing the boundaries, reading the signs (sometimes over-analyzing them), always so scared that he’ll fuck up somehow.

His Runes Experiment Room:

Same wing that houses the Ancient Runes classrooms.

Approximately U-shaped

Left room is for the actual experiment, connected by a hallway to a sort of “office” on the right where all the theories/writings occurred.

Office:

Big blackboard filled with maths & diagrams

Big wooden desks filled with papers, very messy, on top of which sat …

Letters sent by Isolda

A pot of talking cactus, sent by Isolda

Lots of candy boxes ordered from Hogsmeade or sent by his mother

Two bookshelves overfilled with books; papers; chalks of different materials; boxes of preserved animal blood; rulers & measurement devices; bowls of different parts of different animals scattered around; a locked metal chest of rarer materials

When there are visitors, he puts everything personal to him in a trunk in the corner of the room

Two sofas for guests

Experimental room:

Kept clean & in pristine condition

Two Parts

A square part of the room in the middle, sectioned off by magic & physical means (eg: salt, powdered thestral fur, etc.):

This is where the floor diagrams occur, for more complex projects. Experiments here are frequently unstable.

The rest: There’s a trunk of gemstones + other objects for blood curses; there’s a long desk lining the wall with tools for carving, burning, melting, writing, and holding on top

He usually levitates the object or holds them by physical means as he carves runes on it

The long table is also used to deconstruct runes done by other people

People who have seen this room: Riddle, Bishop, Seneca, Ogden

Attitude toward teachers:

Ogden: already mentioned

Dumbledore: professional admiration. Amadeus secretly idolizes him because Dumbledore is too Badass not to, though he thinks Dumbledore is too soft on Muggleborns.

Rakepick: doesn’t like since she likes the Gryffs

Edgecomb: likes her tattoos; on good terms because Isolda will be going to Beauxbatons; tries too hard not to ask her questions about schooling & dorming over there

Dippet: nice man, not useful but it helps that he likes Riddle

Fairbanks: likes her for various reasons. She went to Durmstrang is number one. She’s intense and, to him, she has a real appreciation for the true nature of magic. That she’s a Herbology professor irks him — he wishes she was teaching Dark Arts instead. Imagine the kind of spells she would’ve taught!

Isadora: annoying because of the homework

William Brown: muggle lover, ew

Sylvia: doesn’t care

Astrid: doesn’t like divination because he’s not a seer, but on good terms with Astrid because of her views

Binns: doesn’t care, except when his lessons mentions something related to the Averys

In summary: Amadeus is an ambitious individual who grew up in a distant household. He experiences lots of emotions despite being groomed not to. He is smart about many things except himself. He has the ability to rationalize his feelings but chooses to ignore them. He can exert great control over himself and he chooses his words carefully. He is proud and powerful and knows exactly what he wants — but what he wants may not be what he needs in the end.

Playlist: here

#rp #rpg #roleplay #harry potter rp #literate roleplay #accepted #amadeus

3 notes · View notes

rittywritestdp · 6 years

Note

Not the same person, but I really really loved your first part to the Runaan x human ex-soldier who saves him fic, could you perhaps write a follow-up? :3

Of course omg! I would love to.

Runaan x Human!Reader Part 1/Part 2

♠️“You’ve no reason to trust me, but if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve just left you face down in the river.” You said, rather exhausted with the argument at this point.

“There are worse things than death.” He replied. “It seems so…outlandish to think of a soldier who spent, presumably, most of her life fighting a war against my people, to have any kind intentions for me.” He explained, you found your way to the chair beside the garden fence, taking a rough seat and stretching your leg out. Standing for long caused pain, and you assumed you’d be here a while.

“I fought a war that I was told to fight.” You replied. “I didn’t start the war, I’ve never even spoken to an elf before now. I did what I was told, all but gave my life for my country; I never wanted a war, who does? But I fought it, and now I’m here.” You said, folding your arms and leaning back. He watched you with interest, as if surprised by your answer. Your eyes wandered from him to the ground, watching nothing in particular but only attempting to escape his gaze; it felt as thought it was picking you apart, attempting to figure you out. To read you. “Sure, I’ve fought plenty of elves, I know what you’re capable of. I know what you can do. Sure, I’m scared of you…but when you opened your eyes down at the river…and you looked into mine. I didn’t see an elf. I saw a person. I saw someone who needed help.” You said, voice growing quieter as you spilt your heart out to this stranger. “It’s…it’s real easy to hate people, but it’s real hard to hate a person until you’ve met them.” You added, letting out a tired sigh. Runaan was silent, which probably meant he was formulating a comeback, some insult, perhaps some counter to what you’d said.

“You’re scared of me?” He asked, but the tone wasn’t mocking. It was surprised. “Yet you allowed me into your home? Gave me your bed and bandaged me?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he attempted to understand. You were quiet for a moment, hunting for the answer that you had before you knew it.

“What have I to lose?” You ask, voice calm and hollow. It was apparent what you meant. You were past your prime, a woman alone in the forest with little to your name and a broken body. Runaan didn’t reply, he was silent for the first time since he’d woken, and so were you. You had nothing more to say.

“May I help you with your chores?” He asked finally.

“I’m not incapable of doing my work,” You replied. “I’m just a bit slow.” You add, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Clearly.” he started. “But I cannot just sit around all day.” You let an exasperated breath out, giving him an empathetic look. You remembered how restless you were each and every time you received a wound.

“You have to, less you want to open up that wound of yours again.” You stated. “But you can milk the goats if you want, that’s not too strenuous.” You thumbed towards the goat pens, a look of dread immediately washed over his face, winning a laugh from you. “Never mind, I’ll take care of them. Just relax.” You said, picking up your water bucket and starting off towards the river.

When you returned, Runaan appeared to be reading a book. You thought nothing of it as you watered the animals and the garden.

“Are you hungry?” You asked, walking by him and setting the water bucket down next to the door to your cottage. He closed the book, revealing the cover to you and you paused, body cringing involuntarily. A shameful favorite of yours, a sappy romance. Of all the books on the shelf, why would he pick that one.

“Interesting books you have.” He said, patting the cover. “I could eat.” He nodded, standing and following you into your home as you attempted to run away.

“I’m…certain that I have something more appealing than that? Just an old gift.” You laughed it off, pulling food from the pantry to begin cooking a breakfast. You typically just ate bread and cheese, but a guest meant you’d put out a little effort.

“The writing is incredibly simple. Is all human literature so dull?” He asked and you gave him a dry look.

“Is all Elven writing done in gold ink and prose?” You asked, feeling a bit personally victimized by the insult to one of your very favorite books. You expected surprise, perhaps even aggression, but you didn’t expect him to grin.

“It isn’t an old gift at all, is it? It’s well worn, and you seem keen on defending it.” He demonstrated how easily the spine opened and closed. You just pursed your lips at him and continued reading.

Runaan looked thoroughly disgusted as you offered him a bowl of food. “What…is this?” He asked, looking up at you. It was something real simple to make called Camp Glop by the soldiers. It consisted of potatoes, sausage, milk and cream, and egg. All mixed together and cooked in one pan. It looked…just like the name conveyed.

“Traditional simple breakfast.” You said, sitting down on the single dining table chair and taking a bite. Runaan was still not convinced it was edible. He poked it, pushed it about, and looked all together, as uncomfortable as a mouse in an ant house. “Don’t knock it til you try it.” You said, grinning at the small bit of revenge you’d won.

“Is that a human saying?” He asked.

“Yeah, why?” You replied.

“Because it doesn’t make any sense.” He stated, poking his fork into a piece of potato and trepedatiously taking a bite. He would never admit it, but he rather liked it. It was simple, certainly wouldn’t win any races, but something about it was comforting. He would never stop being confused by human culture though.

Thanks for the lovely ask anon!-☼

#tdp #the dragon prince #sfw #runaan #runaan x reader #tdpxreader #RittyWrites #fanfiction #fic

154 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

Do you have a facial expression you seem to pull a lot? What is it? “lots of random BLAH faces. also, ppl seem to ask if im okay a lot too, so i wonder if i look like im distressed or upset or smthing. i do sort of wear my feelings on my face w/o realizing it” <<<< Yeah, same. “Blah” faces covers it perfectly. I also have expressions of discomfort among the others you mentioned. Do you always listen to music when you’re online? Nope. I like never do that. I typically have the TV on for background noise and I’ll sometimes also listen to ASMR or catch up on YouTube videos from those I’m subscribed to. If so, what are you currently listening to? Right now I’m watching Catfish. When you can’t sleep, what do you do? I’m always up until like 4 or 5 in the morning, and I just watch TV, watch/listen to ASMR and other YouTube videos, do surveys, scroll through Tumblr, and color sometimes. Did you like the last book you read? What was it about? Yes. I have one I started like 3 months ago that I need to finish, too.

Do you prefer things (Movies, books, etc) that scare you or make you laugh? Depends, really. Have you ever rubbed your eyes so much you couldn’t see for a while? Not for a long time, but yeah it took a second for them to get back into focus. Do you like people more or less when they have similar tastes to you? Why? I like having a lot in common, but it’s fun having different tastes, too, because I learn about new things that way and they can show me/teach me about things I might not be familiar with. Do you ever forget how to do really simple things? Like what? I wouldn’t really say I forget, I just have like moments of brain fog. What would you change about your current physical appearance if you could? A lot of things, but I’d start with my smile. Were you born with naturally straight teeth? They’re pretty straight. Do you pull faces at yourself when you look in the mirror? Sometimes. Usually ones of disgust, ha. Do you try not to take a lot of medicine or do you take it whenever? I have one I’m on a schedule for. Do you prefer acoustic or studio versions of songs? Both, just depends. Do you quote movies often? Any ones in particular? Somewhat. Bridesmaids and Mean Girls come up often. If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? *shrug* Do you like the sound of your computer’s keyboard typing? Sure. If you had to make a superhero secret base somewhere, where would it go? I have no idea, but if I did I would tell you. Duhh. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? Neither. What about chocolate or peanut M&M’s? I like both. Your favourite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? I don’t have one particular favorite band. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? Yeah. What pattern was on the last pair of socks you wore? Just black. Would you rather have a big house or a big garden? Big house. Are fireworks illegal to buy where you live? Certain ones we can have, but not like the big ones you see at special events. When was the last time you felt dizzy? Earlier, actually. Do you have a crush on anyone who’s unattainable? Why are they? Alexander Skarsgard. ha. Can you talk and work at the same time? Sometimes. Do you care more about yourself or more about others? Others. I’ve neglected myself in a lot of ways and haven’t been taking care of myself like I should have been. Do you find it easy to pass the time or do you get really bored? I tend to just do the things I listed already most of the time, but yeah there’s days where like it’s not really doing it for me and I’m just bored with everything. Do you like going to museums? Any particular type? Yeah. Ones with historical artifacts are really cool. Is there anyone you don’t think you’ll ever get over? Who? I think I’ll always think of them now and then. I don’t have romantic feelings for them anymore, but I miss them and they were at one point really special to me. I’ll always have a place in my heart for them. Are you ever scared of people reading your survey answers? Obviously not... well, except for people I know personally. If you could change your accent, would you? To what? Southern or British. Totally different types of accents, but I like them both. What time do you usually go to bed at on weekends? I usually go to bed around 4 or 5 regardless of the day. Does any part of you itch right now? No. How often do you re-watch / re-read things or are you more ‘once only’? I re-watch shows and movies a lot, but I don’t re-read books for some reason. What time is it right now? 2:31AM. Should you be doing something else instead of this? What? I mean, probably sleep but that’s not going to happen. What colour are your eyes? Do you like them? Brown. I wish they were blue or green. What colour ink do you prefer writing in? Black. What is your favourite kind of take-away to order? Fast food I like to get Taco Bell, take out from a restaurant I like to get Applebee’s. What is your favourite joke? *shrug* When was the last time you met someone who shared your first name? It’s been awhile. Have you inherited any garments from your parents or grandparents? I have a shirt of my grandma’s and one of my grandpa’s that I got after they passed away. When was the last time you took a picture? What was it of? Yesterday I took a photo of our Elf on the Shelf. I do that whole thing where you do different photo ops with it each day. Do you ever watch movies with the subtitles on just for fun? Sometimes. Usually it’s because we’re watching something at night and we don’t want to have the TV up too loud. Also, some shows or movies seem to be too low no matter how high you turn the volume up. It’s pretty useful sometimes. Do you tend to call people by their birth name or a nickname? Depends on the person. I have a cousin who we only call by his nickname and saying his real name always sounds weird. When was the last time you visited the doctor? Why did you go? Last Thursday for my routine checkup. I go every 1-2 weeks to that particular doctor. Do you ever wear shoes even though they hurt your feet? I don’t have that problem.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

juniper-and-lamplight · 5 years

Text

Updated December 25, 2018

A collection of my yearly Holiday Fic Countdown recs, listed alphabetically by fandom & author and linked to the original recs (so you can click through if you want to read my lengthy notes). Recs below the cut, and happy holidays!

Brooklyn Nine-Nine as cuddly as a cactus, hardlygolden, 1k, General audiences "'There is an elf. On my shelf,' Captain Holt pronounces. It’s entirely possible he sounds more aggrieved than usual - Jake can never tell." Original rec.

Cabin Pressure Christmas in Helsinki, Lucyemers, 2.3k, General audiences “Ms. Knapp-Schappey?” “Yes?” “I’ve been sent to fetch you”, she responds, all smiles. “Don’t be ridiculous! Do you know what time it is?” She continues, ignoring her protests,“To Christmas in Helsinki.” Original rec.

Check, Please! Winner Bakes It All, akaparalian, 3k, Teen and up, Bitty/Jack "There are some truly, uniquely incredible smells coming from the Haus kitchen; in fact, more even than that, there are baking smells coming from the Haus kitchen. This, in and of itself, is far from unusual three semesters into one Eric Bittle's tenure as the unofficial bakemeister of Samwell Hockey. In fact, on such a lovely Sunday afternoon in early December, it might even be expected. Really, there's no cause for alarm. Except for the fact that Bitty's not here." Original rec.

From Me To You, IBoatedHere, 4.1k, General audiences, Jack/Bitty "Jack finds the book by accident. Knitting For The Absolute Beginner." Original rec.

Love And All The Other Intangibles, IBoatedHere, 4.8k, General audiences, Jack/Bitty "Eric Bittle's fraught and opaque relationship with Christmas." Original rec.

Only gift that I need, by Signe_chan, 2.7k, Teen and up, Ransom/Holster "Ransom had kind of been expecting something in the mail, but when he got home, his post box was empty. It was weird. It was the first night of Hanukkah and Holster normally loved Hanukkah." Original rec.

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency Blood Is Thicker Than Water (But You Know What's Even Thicker? Cookie Dough. Tastes Better, Too.), DontOffendTheBees, 3k, Teen and up, Dirk/Todd "'Dirk… you know how to make cookies, right?' The detective glanced between Todd and the ingredients, brow furrowing. 'Actually, I was rather hoping you did…' Todd sighed. He was gonna need another beer. 'Let’s Google it.' In which Dirk and Todd ill-advisedly try to bake cheer-up cookies for Farah at 3am, and maybe confront some feelings in the process." Original rec.

To Give Meaning, electricteatime, 2k, Teen and up, Dirk/Todd In which sometimes the meaning behind the gift is the most important thing of all, and sometimes Todd gets it all right (for a change.)" Original rec.

all roads lead home, GabbyD, 3k, Gen "It’s the little things about Christmas that truly make it all feel like family. Or, how each character and group learns to cope with the events of the first season as they experience Christmas together for the first time." Original rec.

Baby, it's cold outside, HolisticPanda, 2k, Teen and up, Bart & Ken "Bart doesn't like the snow." Original rec.

Unimaginable (or, Six Different Flavors of Holiday-Themed Lip Balm), juniper_and_lamplight, 1.9k, M, Farah/Tina “She’s not the sort of person Farah would’ve expected to fall for, if she’d expected to fall for anyone, and just looking at her fills Farah's chest with a wild, buoyant tenderness, like her heart might actually be expanding. It’s the opposite of a panic attack, though it leaves her with the same dry mouth and racing pulse.” Am I reccing my own Christmas fic? YOU BET I AM.

If The Fates Allow, by lavellington, 6.9k, Teen and up, Dirk/Todd "Dirk was familiar with Christmas in theory but not practice. Todd and Farah were happy to go along for the ride." Original rec.

A Very Dirk Gently Christmas, thats_entirely_too_much_tuna, 20.5k, Teen and up, Dirk/Todd "'I’m going to teach you to love Christmas again, Todd,' Dirk informed him. 'I’ve decided.'" Original rec.

Mittens, yeaka, 1k, Teen and up, Panto/Silas "Silas attends the winter festival." Original rec.

Doctor Who & Torchwood The Education of Ianto Jones, Verasteine, 3k, Mature, Jack/Ianto "Ianto Jones had grown up with a world view of straight couples. Now he knows different." Original rec.

Unsinkable, versaphile, 4k, Tenth Doctor/Jack "Post-Voyage of the Damned. The Doctor has nowhere to go, and ends up in Cardiff." Original rec.

Firefly Consecration, by fox1013, 3k, General audiences "We have done the impossible, and that makes us mighty." Original rec.

Gilmore Girls Suggestions (And Mallomars), Mosca, 3.3k, Teen and up, Rory/Paris "Identity, chocolate, mother-daughter relations, and the importance of voting: scenes from the first 90 days." Original rec.

Good Omens How Crowley Saved Christmas, such_heights, 1k, General audiences, Crowley & Aziraphale "It was 1842, and Aziraphale really didn’t want to do it." Original rec.

Harry Potter God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, blamebrampton, 8k, General audiences, Harry/Draco "Draco hasn't been seeking refuge in religion, just in London's most famous church. The fact that it's on the daily route of Britain's most famous Auror is total coincidence, he's really there for the music." Original rec.

Bitter Honey, Green Night, Faith Wood, 14k, Explicit, Harry/Draco "An inn, an Auror, a criminal, a mystery." Original rec.

As Souls from Bodies Steal, femmequixotic, 40k, Explicit, Harry/Draco “Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter.” Original rec.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, firethesound, 12k, Mature, Harry/Draco "Sometimes Harry can't help but wonder why such strange shit always happens to him." Original rec.

All Our New Years, Frayach, 2k, Mature, Harry/Draco "It takes too many New Year's Eves without each other but eventually they get it right." Original rec.

The Price We Pay for Wings, Frayach, read by raitala, 13k, 80min, Mature, Harry/Draco “Scorpius Draconis Eltanin Malfoy read the first book in the Alford Ocamy series over Christmas hols when he was eleven. Well, he didn’t so much “read” it as he devoured it.” Original rec.

Here’s the Pencil, Make It Work, ignatiustrout, 49k, Mature, Harry/Draco "Harry thinks ‘Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?’ is a much simpler question than, ‘Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?'" Original rec.

An Act of Rebellion: Eight Nights of Hope, katmarajade, 1k, General audiences "During the Carrows' reign of terror, Anthony decides to bring his House together in a surprising way." Original rec.

Nine Regrettably Short Stories About Sirius Black and Things That Happened On or Around Christmas, librae, 3k, unrated, Remus/Sirius "The problem was, of course, that it was Christmastime. The problem, of course, being that Sirius had stolen them away in the night - or the daytime, if you wanted to be technical - all so they could have the inaugural Christmas feast in his flat, which was blaring white and freezing." Original rec.

Winter Like a Balm, Lomonaaeren, 2k, Teen and up, Ginny/Luna "The first winter after Fred's death, Ginny escapes into the Forbidden Forest with Luna and her unicorns." Original rec.

Let Nothing You Dismay, montparnasse, 19k, Mature, Remus/Sirius "There are a few things Sirius really didn't count on for Christmas of 1979. The extreme sexual confusion is one of them; Remus Lupin is approximately seventy-eight of the rest." Original rec.

Elucidation Practice, montparnasse, 21.3k, Mature, Remus/Sirius "Christmas, 1978. Remus, wrestling with the mighty problems of gift-giving on a budget, contemplates life, love, London in winter, and falling off the edge of the world with Sirius Black." Original rec.

Christmas 1980, nightswatch, 4.9k, Teen and up, Remus/Sirius "Remus comes home from an Order mission on Christmas Eve. He's not so sure if Sirius actually wants to see him." Original rec.

Vector, by rageprufrock, 13k, Mature, Remus/Sirius "Mathematics: A quantity, such as velocity, completely specified by a magnitude and a direction. / 3. A force or influence." Original rec.

Six Christmases, thistle_verse, 4.8k, Mature, Harry/Draco "Care is a magic shaped by relation; it alters and winds its way through all spaces. It is always on the move, always changing its shape, and sometimes— it turned into love. Harry felt, finally, like all his various perspectives on Draco Malfoy over the years had clicked into place, simultaneous and one. He felt certain he could love this man through every view, from any side of before or after." Original rec.

Christmas at The Dog and Duck, writcraft, 9k, Explicit, Harry/Draco "Because life has a habit of conspiring against him, Harry finds himself on a weekend away with Malfoy. The fact he can’t forget that one, searing kiss is definitely going to be a problem." Original rec.

History Boys Driving Home For Christmas, surprisinglyOK, 6.4k, Teen and up, Scripps/Posner "This is just super fluffy romantic/family Christmas fun, in which David spends Christmas with the Scripps', and Don finally comes out to his parents." Original rec.

Marvel Maqqaba, Domenika Marzione, 1.8k, Gen "Chanukah in the SSR." Original rec.

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries Last night you told me: tomorrow, lbmisscharlie, 2k, Explicit, Phryne/Mac/Jack "'Come on, darling,' she says, feeling daring. This is the edge of something, something that has been building since the first time Phryne stomped into the City South Police Station. Perhaps since Mac linked arms with her on the docks of the port, gleeful to be reunited with her friend after many years absence. Things will be different tomorrow." Original rec.

Sherlock (BBC) People Are Basically Fond, apliddell, read by lockedinjohnlock, 5.1k, 36 min., General audiences, John/Sherlock "John and Sherlock throw another Christmas party, with a little surprise for their guests." Original rec. from tender stem hath sprung, astudyinrose, 6.1k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "A few days before Christmas, a sprig of mistletoe appears in 221B." Original rec.

Snowlight, axemeaboutaxinomancy, 1k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "A snowy interlude, with daemons by the window and humans on the sofa." Original rec.

In the Bleak Midwinter (A Canticle for Advent), CaitlinFairchild, 3k, Mature, Sherlock/John "In the autumn of 2014, Mary Watson shot Sherlock Holmes. This is what happened after." Original rec.

A Winter Walk, cathedral_carver, 3k, Teen and up, Sherlock/John "Time is the longest distance between two places." Original rec.

Lab Book, copperbadge, 5k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "'The likelihood of finding a cab on Christmas Eve is fast approaching nil.' 'So was the likelihood of you kissing me in the middle of the pavement, and yet.'" Original rec.

On the Table (Eventually John Watson's Favorite Christmas Story), emmgrant01, art by numberthescars, 18k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "Set after The Reichenbach Fall. Someone's leaving John strange little gifts in the weeks before Christmas. But who could it be? (A bit of fluff, a touch of angst, a dash of smut, some holiday cheer – enjoy!)" Original rec.

The December War, igrockspock,4k, Teen, John/Sherlock "Sherlock's never been good at Christmas." Original rec.

Winters Delights, Kate_Lear, 21k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family." Original rec.

Resolution, by lifeonmars, 2k, Teen and up, Sherlock/John "'Maybe one resolution isn't a bad idea.' New Year’s-related unashamed fluff with a bit of case geekery on the side." Original rec.

Points, lifeonmars, read by Lockedinjohnlock, 54k, 7 hrs, Explicit, Sherlock/John "'The little things are infinitely the most important.' -- A Case of Identity, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other." Original rec.

Christmas Eve, 1939, lotherington, 2k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "They were in bed together, the Tiffany lamp alight in the corner, casting a gentle light across the room. The multicoloured pieces of glass that formed its shade glowed prettily in the dim and provided a welcome contrast from the pouring rain and darkness outside, concealed though it was by the blackout curtain. WWII AU. December, 1939. Sherlock and John share a lazy Christmas Eve at Baker Street in the midst of the 'Phoney War'." Original rec.

See Love Shine, Mazarin221b, 2k, Mature, Sherlock/John “The weight of time is pulling heavily on John’s heart of late. Short days and seemingly endless nights lend themselves to spending too much time pondering his future. Their future. John leans forward to press a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead. When Sherlock’s eyes blink open and he smiles sleepily, a half-formed idea that had been niggling at the back of John’s mind sharpens into a certainty.” Original rec.

Goodness Gives Extras, mydwynter, 39k, Explicit, Sherlock/John "Christmas time. Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there's a case that drags them all over, missing presents,disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn't have expected anything different." Original rec.

Entanglement, orphan_account, 3k, General audiences, Sherlock/John "On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots." Original rec.

Ghost Stories, SwissMiss, 22k, Mature, Sherlock/John "Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something." Original rec.

First Night Out, verity-burns, read by the author, 3k, 22min, Mature, Sherlock/John "As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders' Christmas Party. There are... developments on the dance floor..." Original rec.

Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle) Also when 'tis cold and drear, garonne, 26k, Teen and up, Holmes/Watson "In the first months of their acquaintance, Holmes and Watson study each other from a distance, watching and wondering... Contains lunatic aristocratic poets, Christmas dinner, plenty of fog and snow, and other such stuff." Original rec.

In the Shadow of the Past, garonne, read by hardboiledbaby, 6k, 45min, Mature, Holmes/Watson "Holmes would rather have avoided returning with Watson to the Alps, even years after the events at Reichenbach--from which he's not sure Watson has ever really recovered." Original rec.

The Holly and the Ivy series, MirithGriffin, 20k, Teen through Explicit, Holmes/Watson "Translator’s note: In 2010, a strange manuscript was discovered in a private country house long used as a hotel in Surrey. While working on plans for renovations, contractors discovered a dilapidated strongbox in the attic. The box contained, among other things, twenty yellowing sheets of paper covered from top to bottom in dancing stick figures. Upon further examination, the stick figures were revealed to be a form of code. Here is what the manuscript said." Original rec.

Splendid Night, Katie Forsythe, read by Heuristic Device, 14k, 90 min, Teen and up, Holmes/Watson A Christmas fic, set during and around The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton, in which Watson gets ahold of the wrong end of the deductive stick and reacts in a histrionic and yet recognizably Watsonian fashion. Original rec.

Dwell Together Still, mistyzeo, 2k, Explicit, Holmes/Watson "Holmes and Watson celebrate the end of an important year." Original rec.

Glad With Our Carols, oldshrewsburyian, 1.6k, Gen, Holmes/Watson "Holmes loves music, Watson loves Holmes, and the author indulges her feelings about liturgical history and medieval music." Original rec.

Since First I Saw Your Face: First Christmas, Stavia_Scott_Grayson, 6k (this chapter), Mature, Holmes/Watson "During the Great Hiatus, Holmes, studying in Tibet, reflects on his first meeting with Dr John Watson." Original rec.

Waltzing & Wassailing, wordybirdy, 2k, Gen, Holmes/Watson "Should Holmes & Watson accept Mycroft's invitation to his New Year's Eve celebrations? What reservations could Holmes possibly have?" Original rec.

Star Wars Some Like It Hoth, fennecfawkes, 2k, Mature, Finn/Poe "Greetings from Hoth, where the climate isn't the kindest, but the company can't be beat." Original rec.

Supernatural Gone Away is the Bluebird, clockworkrobots, 1k, unrated, Dean/Castiel "'Well, perhaps I’ve been down here, with them, for too long,' Castiel admits to his sister as he drives. 'There’s seemingly nothing but chaos. But not all bad comes from it. Art. Hope. Love. Dreams.' 'But those are human things,' Hannah says, with unmasked confusion. She is not judging, just trying to understand. Castiel almost wants to smile. It's like looking in a mirror to the past. 'Yes.'" Original rec.

The Cold of Flesh and Stone, entangled_now, 9k, Explicit, Dean/Castiel "Maybe I'm sick of spending Christmas elbow deep inside something's intestines, or standing in a grave somewhere in the freezing cold waiting for bones to burn." Original rec.

Collateral Damage, komodobits, 7k, Explicit, Dean/Castiel "Castiel takes offense at being called awkward, and goes out of his way to prove Dean wrong." Original rec.

Softer and More Beautiful, by misslucyjane, 8k, Explicit, Dean/Castiel "Christmas is a human celebration, and Castiel is with a couple of humans." Original rec.

All the Neighbors Might Think, murron, 4k, Explicit, Dean/Castiel "It’s not like Dean needs company on Christmas Eve." Original rec.

One Cold Night, xylodemon, 16k, Explicit, Dean/Castiel "'Dean, are you all right?' 'Yeah. I'm just --' Dean shivers again. His teeth clack together. 'Jesus Christ, it's cold.'" Original rec.

The West Wing The DoD, by E.E. Beck, 2k, Teen and up "Sam had a plan. Sam had a secret plan. Takes place in the month following Noel." Original rec.

Fic bookmarks | Fic Recs Masterlist

5 notes · View notes