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fadingsnow · 6 months

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𓆙 time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me - CORIOLANUS SNOW x f! reader

summary and tw: coryo sees you again now as president snow (young), after you had apparently ran away never to be seen after years. (during 15th hunger game as his first year as president) angst, divider credits : @cafekitsune 𓆙

You hesistantly walked up the steps, bearing a stolen identification card from someone who lived in the capitol. You had snuck in here, you were always good at that. That's what he liked about you, your coyness. Until you realized his was more than that, he pushed it to the ends of the world till it reached his needs for ambition. Which he clearly has. Your hands trembled, taking a moment to rethink your actions. You just wanted to see him one last time. Maybe you should've just stayed, and watched him make some random speech.

You stood there. Maybe, you shouldn't have left in the first place. But bearing the guilt of loving someone who never had the guts to tell you of the crime of murder he had committed was too much to hold. He never forgot you clearly, because your eyes had followed a trail of white roses put at the sides of the steps. He used to hand you white roses, symbolizing your youthful love and loyalty. Sadly, you couldn't find the loyalty in your heart to stay with him any longer.

You hadn't even comprehended the fact that he wasn't inside, because you heard clicks of shoes on those very steps you just stepped on. The breathing, and the calculated gaze on your back. You knew it was him even after 5 years, you knew. You slowly turned around and you were met with the sight of a slightly more mature Snow, red coat, and grown out white-blonde hair.

"Cor-" Your voice was stopped when he raised out a hand. Was he used to this? Commanding others?

Your eyes raked over him, exactly like his father. Had he also turned into the same tyrant figure like him? You had heard a few stories in passing by from Tigris. How was she? You had too much to ask, yet no force to find out how to let out the words.

He scoffed at you in disbelief, he had waited for this moment for years. On the 2nd, he gave up. He used to even leave the light out for you, in some mismatched hope you could tell that he was home. Here you were, in the flesh. Completely fine. You seemed not to change that much, in dark contrast to how he was now.

His face seemed to hold too much distaste for his age, eyebrows in a permanent hold reminiscent of a look of disgust. You suddenly felt insecure, even though you had shared some of your most deepest words with him.

"What are you doing here?" His eyes drooped down to the floor. Could he really not stand the sight of you?

"I.. I wanted to check on you, make sure you were doing fine. The rest of you."

His eyes narrowed at you, sneering. "What type of bullshit response is that? You left my life, you can't just come back in. You said you wouldn't leave. Yet, you did." His voice trembled for a moment, but he could no longer trust you. There was no way he could show his vulnerability infront of you again. He did it once, and he was still followed by your voice all these years.

"Why? You owe me that."

"You killed them, Coryo. Do you understand that? I was scare-" His voice loudly cut you off.

"Scared? No, you weren't fucking scared when you ran away! You were so easy to leave, you had to already have that idea. I tried to forget about you all these years. You know I wouldn't have ever hurt you. You were supposed to become the lady of Panem!" His eyes looked at you in desperation, you had ruined his life once more. You had reminded him of what he could've kept if he hadn't pursued his ambitions so hard.

"Coryo. I just came here to check on you, I changed my mind about knocking." Tears formed in your eyes when he wrapped his hands around your arms, begging. Coriolanus Snow was begging for once in his life, and it was for you.

"Please." His voice broke, now you could see who everyone revered as the president. President Snow was Coriolanus still, no matter how much he tried to change himself.

"Coryo, don't make me cry. Not right now, I've seen enough. You seem.. fine." You tried to convince yourself to not stay, to not run back into his arms.

"Do you understand what you have done to me? I dream of you, when I breathe, it is because I want to live for you. I need you. For you to see how much I have grown, I am president now. There is no need for guilt. When will you see that I am good, for you?" He said through gritted teeth, trying to not let the same mistake happen again.

"Coryo, we both know at the end of tonight, we will be sleeping on different beds. It's best if we finally let go of each other." With that, you brought him in for one final kiss. When you felt his embrace, you felt something like a tear hit your cheek.

Coriolanus Snow never forgot you, not even when you were seen helping Katniss Everdeen against him. Not even when you gave her a white rose, an everlasting symbol of the forgotten love between you and Coriolanus Snow.

#Spotify #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst

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spacebarbarianweird · 7 months

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Astarion x f!reader. We Shall Meet Again

Read on AO3

Astarion and Tav are talking about life and death and end up talking about children tags: fluff, comfort, conversation about death and mortality Astarion mentions he wants to step into the sunlight once Tav dies so consider it a trigger warning Read on AO3

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Headcanons

"Please, Astarion, I can walk on my own!" You try to free yourself, but the vampire drags you on his shoulders like a lifeless sack.

"No, you can't," he replies.

You let out a sigh of frustration. If only Astarion could see your expression, he would witness your disappointment.

The task seemed simple enough. The villagers promised a reward for getting rid of a troublesome troll. It should have been a routine quest for a pair of seasoned adventurers like you. And it had been until the troll hurled you against a tree. Astarion swiftly dealt with the monster, then hoisted you onto his shoulders, and now the two of you were making your way back to the village to get the reward.

"Please, just put me down," you implore.

"Your leg is broken," Astarion insists.

"No, it's not!" You let out a cry of pain as he touches the injured limb. "Fine, you win!"

Astarion chuckles softly as you continue to observe the grass and flowers below. Eventually, the fatigue overtakes you, causing you to black out. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself back in the village.

"We've agreed on five golden coins! Take your reward and go!"

"Yes, but my wife broke her leg, and now I must pay the healer," Astarion argues with a rogue smile. "Eight golden coins."

"Six! We haven't paid the tithe yet!"

"Seven. And your village healer cures her for free."

"Fine! But I don't want to see either of you ever again!"

"It can be arranged!"

The village chief throws a sack of gold to Astarion, and the vampire performs a theatrical bow as if on a stage. Then, he approaches you and gently kisses your forehead, his lips curving into a grin, though a hint of concern lingers in his crimson eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm too young to die just yet," you say as you caress his left cheek, and he closes his eyes, savoring the touch like a content cat.

"I know, but when that thing threw you at the tree, I thought for a second," he stumbles, his voice tinged with worry. "I thought you wouldn't get up."

You remember the wave of pain, the buzz in your ears, and Astarion kneeling beside you, carefully letting you drink a healing potion. He held you gently, his worry palpable as he waited for the potion to mend at least some damage.

He worries sick every time you get hurt. So do you - Astarion doesn't take physical damage easily.

The healer finally arrives, visibly annoyed that he was woken up in the middle of the night. He casts a spell on your leg, and you hear a gruesome sound as the bones fuse back together.

"You could at least be grateful for slaying that troll," you mutter.

The healer lets out a string of curses and leaves.

"Well, I think it's best if we find a spot to make camp before the sunrise," Astarion says.

"I don't think it would be safe to stay in the village anyway. They might start suspecting you're a vampire," you reply as the houses fade into the distance.

"Ungrateful lot," he chuckles.

You take his hand, and you together go into the night. It's been five years since you met at the shipwreck, five years since your unlikely union evolved into something deeper. You haven't grown tired of each other; if anything, you've grown closer, and you can't imagine spending a single night without Astarion by your side.

You are not even sure if you can fall asleep without him cuddling you.

You affectionately refer to each other as "wife" and "husband," even though there was no formal ceremony. One day, Astarion slipped a ring he'd found in a dungeon onto your finger, and you did the same after obtaining a similar one. It was as simple as that.

… The two of you stop and set up a tent as the skies lighten. The tent is crafted from thick, black material and reinforced with a darkness spell - a perfect daylight shelter for a vampire.

You've grown accustomed to the routine. At sunrise, you both go to sleep. When you wake up well past noon, Astarion stays inside, engrossed in the books you've collected on your adventures, while you head out to hunt. But sometimes, you keep the vampire company as he reads aloud.

And once the sun sets, you hit the road again. Both of you share the desire to see the world, and you want to see it together.

Exhausted from a long day of walking and the battle with the troll, you immediately fall asleep. When you wake up, you see Astarion sitting beside you, reading one of his books. The rain is pounding the tent and you feel the cold.

"Good morning," you whisper, and he runs his gentle fingers through your hair. His crimson eyes are brimming with love, but you detect an underlying unease in him.

You've always respected his privacy, but you can't help but notice his recent unease.

"Is everything all right? Do you want to talk?" You sit up, peering at the small entrance tent, shivering.

"It seems I can't keep any secrets from you," he sighs in relief. "I just… got scared yesterday. When that thing threw you. When you fell. Damn, you looked like a ragdoll! Then the troll tried to pick you up to smash you again. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to save you. That you would die."

You say nothing, resting your head on his shoulder and listening to his steady breathing.

"That's stupid. You're here. Everything is great," he says.

You sense that he doesn't honestly believe it. Mortality. Your mortality is what's troubling him. He's undead, immortal. He can only die if someone kills him or if he steps into the sun. But you will grow old and eventually pass away if you're not killed earlier.

A sudden urge to leave the tent and return at sunset washes over you, but you suppress it. You both need to address this, no matter how uncomfortable it is.

"What do you think you will do when I die?" you ask him gently.

He stares at you in horror and disbelief, as if he can't believe you've broached this topic.

"I - I don't want to have this conversation," he mutters.

"Astarion, please. We have to talk about this. My love, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but we must discuss it."

He clenches his teeth. "You can't even comprehend how much."

"I actually can because you don't seem to care about your safety, and there's a very high chance I could end up a vampire widow."

You sit before him, taking his hands and gently tracing the knuckles.

He remains silent, and the only sound is that of raindrops outside. The comfort of the warm tent makes you decide not to venture into the rain.

"I will step into the sun once you die. It's not up for discussion," he says resolutely. "I'll bid you farewell, go outside, and see the sunshine one last time. Don't worry. I'll be with you till the end."

A knot forms in your stomach as you suddenly envision Astarion cradling your lifeless body, waiting for the sun to rise.

"Don't," you abruptly say. "Don't do this."

"Well, it won't be up to you to decide," he says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Astarion turns his head away, a signal that he wants to be alone with his thoughts.

"Okay, I'll go for a walk," you suggest, wanting some fresh air, but he grabs your hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to catch a cold," he insists, pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest and you sit together in silence, lost in your thoughts.

"Astarion," you whisper. "Let me tell you something."

"If it's about death again, I'm not interested."

You hug him tightly. "No, it's about… the opposite, actually."

You carefully choose your words. "My people… My people believe in rebirth. We believe that we don't stay dead forever."

You pause, studying Astarion's face, but his pale features remain unreadable.

"When I was little, I was told that our souls come back. In a century, in a millennium. Memories return, and an old personality reawakens. It only happens to some; some are forgotten and never return. That's why we tell stories about our deceased ancestors – to help them find their way back home. Their souls must feel loved to get back."

You hug him even tighter, fearing his reaction.

"Astarion, my love, please, don't step into the sun when I die. Live. I want you to live, see the lands we won't see together, and experience things we won't experience together."

He sobs, and you look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You gently stroke his white curls.

"I want you to talk about me, to tell people stories about my adventures, about who I was. You love me deeply, and if my people are right about souls and resurrection, your memories will be the most powerful beacon in the darkest sea of death."

You release Astarion, who still avoids looking at you directly, seemingly embarrassed about his tears.

"And when that time comes, I will find you. I will embark on a quest to seek my vampire husband, and we shall meet again. You will tell me everything about the places you've visited and your adventures. People you've met, quests you've completed. Everything."

You cup Astarion's face, making him meet your gaze.

"Promise me that, my love. Promise me you will keep living." You kiss his forehead, and your heart swells when you see his smile.

"I promise," he says. "I promise I will keep going."

He lets his tears go and you are proud of him for not concealing the emotions. Then he cocks his heads and grins.

"I'll take your word for that because if I'm reincarnated and never find you, I'll be truly upset," you playfully remark.

"So will I if I keep my promise and you never return," he chuckles.

You plant kisses on his cheeks and share a lighthearted laugh.

"Are you going outside?" he asks. "It seems like it's not raining anymore."

He returns to the book he was reading.

"Go, I don't want you to stay locked in here," he insists.

"Nah, it's too cold. I'd better stay inside with you. What are you even reading there?" You try to snatch the book from his hands, but he closes it and attempts to put it away. "Since when are you embarrassed about your reading preferences?"

You try to grab the heavy black volume, but Astarion catches you and playfully puts you on your back, causing uncontrollable giggles. Now, you can't get up but still manage to stretch your hand toward the book.

"What is this?" You open it. "Dhampirs share many qualities with vampires. They walk the line between living and dead, gain heightened abilities, and have a life-draining bite. Children of vampires and mortals, they are few in number…"

You stumble. Children of vampires and mortals…

Astarion blushes. "I found this book in the troll lair. I never knew that vampires could have children. Like, real children, not cursed spawns."

You open another page with pictures depicting a young human woman with vampire fangs.

"It's written that dhampirs aren't hurt by the sun" he continues. "And they don't need blood to survive. They can easily blend with mortals, but at the same time, they are strong as the undead," he pauses. "It's like being a vampire without downsides."

Half-vampires. Dhampirs. You vaguely remember hearing about them many years ago. Is it possible for you and Astarion to have a child? And would it be right to bring a dhampir into this world?

"Now you're thinking about it too," Astarion observes.

"Guilty," you admit, still lying beneath him. You touch his back, feeling the scars through his shirt. He smiles, enjoying the sensation.

"Speaking of mortality and my promise," he continues, "I think I'll find it easier not to step into the sunlight if I have someone to care for. It would be cruel," he kisses you. "To leave a child without both parents."

You giggle.

"Am I getting this correct? You want me to give birth to a silver-curled dhampir so you won't be lonely?" you tease, pressing Astarion tighter. He doesn't answer, too occupied with undressing you.

A child. Your mind pictures a little girl who resembles both you and Astarion. A progeny. Someone to carry a piece of you both into the future.

"I don't mind," you finally say. "I actually really want this."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #spacebarbarian fics

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hannaxjo · 4 months

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Alan Rickman, David Thewlis, Gary Oldman and all those are iconic in their roles in Harry Potter, but I’ll always be a bit sad about that casting, because having that ‘Marauders era’ cast be age appropriate would’ve just been so much better for the story.

Sirius wasn’t this old man who spent 12 years in Azkaban, no he got locked up at 21. He spent almost third of his life in a cell. He wasn’t this wise father figure to Harry, he was a reckless thirty-something who never really got the chance to mature past 21.

Remus was an exhausted, bone deep tired man carrying both physical and mental scars from the suffering he went through. Because he’s a werewolf, because of the war, because he lost all of his friends. And he’s only 33 when first introduced.

And Snape. Snape wasn’t an old bitter man who just hated everyone and enjoyed being antagonistic. He was 31 in Harry’s first year. He began to work for Voldemort as a teen, and as a double agent at 20. He’s a thirty-something bitter man, who never got to really live or make real connections. From Harry’s perspective he’s scary and intimidating, but really he’s just kinda…sad and pathetic. And then especially that scene where Snape is begging Dumbledore to help save Lily, and promising anything in return. (Because apparently Dumbledore needs something in return…for saving people.) He’s twenty. Barely out of his teens. Rickman was good in that scene, but having someone who actually looks twenty, would better show how scared, young, guilty and just desperate he was. That might not put Dumbledore in such a good light, though.

And then, the characters I think would’ve been the most important to cast age appropriately. And most people probably already agree and know who I’m talking about. James and Lily. They were 21 when they died. When Harry sees them in the mirror of Erised, they’re 10 years older than him. That’s the age difference Ron has with Bill. In that scene I might understand somewhat them being in their thirties, because that’s what Harry wants. He wants his life with his parents, he wants to have been raised by them. Though, I don’t know if the mirror could know what they might’ve looked like in their thirties, since they didn’t live that long. But then, in the cemetery when Voldemort’s wand spits the last spells cast, we see Lily and James as they were. 21. They’re telling their son to hold on just a moment longer. And they are 7 years older than him. In Deathly Hallows, Harry sees Voldemort kill them. They’re not this happy couple who’s got to love each other for a long time, only to have that happiness torn from them, no they started at Hogwarts ten years ago. They’re 21, and they’ve barely tasted that happiness. At the end of the book Harry talks to his parents. They comfort him and promise to stay with him, as he goes to die. Harry’s seventeen. James and Lily are four years older than him.

It wouldn’t have felt as nice. Harry being comforted by someone who looks almost his age. But it wasn’t nice. It was pretty tragic. Casting people who look 21, would’ve really made it land on the audience. It was a tragedy. They were barely adults.

#every time I swear I’m over this fucking franchise #some stupid ass thought drags me right back in #i didn’t mean to write that much #the brainrot is real #harry potter #harry potter movies #marauders #sirius #sirius black #remus lupin #severus snape #james potter #lily potter #lily evans #can you tell I don’t like Dumbledore

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starkeysmoon · 1 year

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MISSED YOU

paring: neteyam sully x omaticaya gender neutral! reader

summary: neteyam sneaks away to see you

warnings: none, fluff!

word count: 1.2K!

request: hi i have a neteyam request :) i’d like to read about neteyam sneaking out to see his secret gf, basically his rebellious era hahah, where instead of doing his duties he goes to see his gf and he is happier with her, not needing to be the perfect son (bonus if the sully family are shocked by his recent behaviour and then meet his gf)

a/n: hey lovely, thank you so much for the request! i’m thinking of making the bonus into a part two, hope that’s alright. (also! my orignal upload got deleted??)

it wasn’t in neteyam’s nature to act like this. disregarding his parents' orders and sneaking around to see you.

however, he couldn't stop thinking about you. especially the laugh that would fall from your lips when he made a joke, the never-ending smile he wore when he was around you, the warmth of your touch, and just the way you made him feel in general.

It was as if you had cast a spell on him that he couldn’t seem to break from, not that he was complaining.

all he knew for certain was that he needed to see you. as a result, he settled to complete his task as soon as possible. his parents, particularly his father, had instructed him to gather twigs and branches for the mreki u'lito (fire pit) tonight.

he hastily gathered the twigs and branches, tying them together before he placed them to the side of a tree and hiding them well. he made a mental note to himself that he would bring them back home later, as he was supposed to.

a sense of guilt filled his chest as he looked back to check on the now-wrapped twigs and branches. his hands trembled a little. his tail swooshed from side to side. debating if he wanted to go through with it or not.

neteyam knew he shouldn’t leave his duties unattended, especially as the eldest son of the family. his parents were counting on him.

he knew it was wrong and that they would be worried if he didn't return soon, but why did being around you feel so right? he let out a huff, shaking his head before walking in the direction of your meeting spot.

neteyam was approaching, walking quickly, but he paused. his ears perked up when he heard familiar sounds of laughter and giggles coming from south the direction of where you were supposed to meet.

he followed instinctively and was met with a surprising sight. you were playing with a plant, the helicoradian to be exact.

he watched you in awe as you touched the leaf, it coiled up and retracted to the ground in response. you let out a soft giggle before moving to the next one.

“(name)!” he called, a smile filling his face. you turned towards the sound of the voice, smiling, before rushing towards the young boy and immediately engulfing him in a hug.

he sighed in contentment at the warmth of your presence. his previous sullen demeanor completely washing away from his body. his hands moved down to your waist and drew you in closer. the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before eventually pulling away.

“that seemed like a lot of fun,” he noted, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“it was.” you answered, your smile widening. “so, what brings you here?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

“a certain someone,” he quipped.

“and where might that certain someone be, neteyam?” you inquired, a smirk now tugging at your lips.

“they happen to be right in front of me,” he says happily, you giggle at his answer as he takes your hands and places them in his own.

“so miss me already, huh?” you teased once more.

“more than anything.” he sighs, his thumb gently caressing your hand.

“you know, it’s only been a day,” you point out, and he laughs in response.

“and a day is already long enough for me to miss you, my love,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours.

your cheeks feel hot at his words and your stomach does a flip, almost as if butterflies had entered your stomach and were fluttering around. “you just can’t seem to get enough of me can you?”

he chuckles at your words. “yes, I truly cannot (name).”

you pull him in for another hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as his hands wrap around your waist gently. the two of you soaking in each other’s warmth and presence once more.

he always made you feel at ease when he was close to you, and you adored him for it. you peppered soft kisses along his neckline before gazing up to look at your boyfriend to find that he was already looking at you with a grin on his face.

“i see you (name),” he says softly, before planting a gentle peck to your lips.

“i see you too, neteyam.” you beam up at him, noticing how his eyes light up at your words and how you can tell they are filled with so much love and care.

“now, are you up for a quick game of who can close all the helicoradians the fastest?” he challenged with an annoyingly cheeky face, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“oh, you’re on, sully!” you say, rushing towards the helicoradians before you’re pulled back as a hand latches onto the end of your tail.

“hey!” you yelp, swishing your tail out of his grasp. “that’s not fair”

“I never said it had to be fair,” he says, lips curving into a teasing smirk.

“i’ll get you for that!” you threaten.

“go right ahead, (name). i’m right here” he taunts, holding up his hands as if to assert his innocence.

you launch your body onto him, causing the two of you to tumble onto the ground. the helicoradians shrink right under you as the two of you playfully roll around the forest floor trying to topple one another.

it’s a continuous cycle of either one of you on top saying a smug sentence before they get flipped over and their back’s pressed down against the forest floor and they are proven wrong again.

“willing to surrender now, (name?)” neteyam asks, noticing your somewhat tired state, his body now on top of yours pressing you down on the ground.

“no,” you reply, refusing to back down despite the obvious fatigue in your voice.

although your response confirms his suspicions, and he moves away from you before offering his hand, which you gratefully accept.

the first thing you notice when you’re back off the forest floor is neteyam’s body covered with dirt before your eyes flicker to your own.

you gently brush it off yet it does no good, as it creates an even bigger smudge. neteyam moves towards you and helps you brush off the rest of the dirt on your body.

“thank you, neteyam” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder, eyes full of gratefulness.

“no worries, my love.” he chuckles, his hand moving to place a braid behind your ear. your cheeks turn into a shade of pink at his motion.

“i really do love you, you know that?” you say, giggling. he nods his head at your words, “and i really love you too.”

the two of you turn around hand in hand to notice that the helicoradian field had coiled and shrunken to the ground.

you both end up bursting into a fit of laughter at each other's competitiveness earlier. “it’s a draw,” you exclaim, and neteyam merely shakes his head. “you wish.”

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honey-milk-depresso · 4 months

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Hello! May I request Diasomnia boys dealing a very sick S/O? Like they will get sick every month. High fever, vomiting, headaches, blocked nose, sore throat, you name it and they have had that illness before. And they're also very behind on their studies because of this.

I had a friend like that too, and she’s currently in another school but we still talk to each other once in a while. This might be a little bit of my own experience mix in this so hopefully it doesn’t sound weird :”))

Diasomnia looking after a really sick s/o

Malleus Draconia

The smallest of a little sneeze from his precious child of man already makes him panic. Seeing you bed-bound with a runny nose, sore throat and headache, he’s getting an actual heart attack.

How can one be so frail??? Malleus might offered casting long lasting healing spell, or try making an elixir to make you permanently well again that no sickness can touch you no longer. But even you think it’s a bit too much when he elaborates how hard it is to find all the damn ingredients.

But Malleus is insistent. “It’s alright, my dear. I will scour the whole continents to find each ingredient.”

After much convincing from you, he reluctantly agreed to just help make simple, healing potions that can last you for a few days before you need to consume them again from him.

He might also consult Lilia on what he should do to entertain you while your bed-bound, and I swear to the SEVENS that he will bring his whole violin as entertainment while having many other brass instruments playing a whole orchestra of soothing music for you like you’re royalty or something like-

He might’ve also consulted with Silver for help and he told Malleus that you probably only wanted his company. To talk to him while you’re stuck in bed for a while until the potion boils finish so that’s what Malleus do. It’s rather peaceful just sitting there and talking to you quietly. It makes his heart feel at ease and he hopes he makes you feel at peace too. <3

Lilia Vanrouge

He’s experienced in taking care of sick people because he had young Malleus and Silver, so he’s pretty much equip to look after you.

Although Lilia has never quite experienced someone who can REALLY get sick and stay sick for a long time, he’s up for the challenge if it means to care for you. You’re his S/o after all!

Lilia is actually really good! He knows how to make the bed super comfy for you to sleep in, his voice always soothes and calms you down, he always remind you to take your meds and drink lots of water while you’re at it. Maybe he’ll ask Malleus to make you a potion to cure your sickness for a while or do it himself!

Just errr…. Don’t eat his cooking because, well, we all know how ominous it looks. And tastes.

Lilia has the habit of reading bedtime stories to you, mostly because he did that for Silver and Malleus when they were younger and he projects that action into you to comfort and soothe you while you’re sick. After all, you won’t feel better if you’re heart isn’t at ease, either.

When you finally fall asleep, Lilia smiles softly before kissing your forehead, sitting on the chair beside you bed and watch over you. <3

Silver

He panics a little, but the first thing he’ll tell you is to get lots of good rest and sleep.

He also tries to mimic what Lilia would do when he was sick during his younger days: singing you a lullaby, try reading bedtime stories (although he might fall asleep halfway), reminding you to take your meds and drink plenty of water.

Silver may also seek Malleus help in making a potion that could help you recover for a while or even lend one of Lilia’s storybooks to help you.

Would stay around you to be company while you’re bedridden, even if he gets sleepy and tired he’ll never leave your side or stop taking care of you.

Might’ve also tried to cook for you, but he only cooks soup because he doesn’t really know what else he can do. He just hopes it can make you feel better at least.

While you rest in bed, Silver, although succumbing to falling asleep, still holds your hand while you rest as both of you fall into a deep slumber together. <3

Sebek Zigvolt

Panicking beyond belief. How can one be so fragile and sickly?! He can hardly believe it and he doesn’t know what to do when you are bed-bound. The smallest sneeze of you already has him all over you with concern, so with your really sick nature, he’s practically made it a point to just be in your life now. Like he shares with you.

Initially, Sebek might’ve come off a little bit insensitive, saying how you should exercise more or something to build up a better immunity system. However, Lilia taught him otherwise to put you first. He knows the boy cares about you so he’s helping him show care in better ways.

He learns to cook soup, pray to Malleus for help in making a potion for your sickness (which the latter helped obviously), might’ve also pulled off the “I WILL TRAVEL THE WORLD FOR THE RARE POTION INGREDIENTS TO CURE YOU FOR GOOD” thing like Malleus which you have to keep on insisting for him to, I don’t know, not be stupid to get himself killed and he RELUCTANTLY listens to you.

He watches over you despite being tired and despite him not being the most lovey dovey or romantic boyfriend out there, you know he cares about you, maybe much more than you know. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

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Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3

rambles:

BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!

based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk

since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!

you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke

the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3

he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)

im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots

ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well

#i wanted him to look um.... Put Together?#barn strikes me as a character that likes to look a lil sophisticated in a way!#and i wanted that to come across in this fit... dont know if i succeeded #i still wanted to have Bard-ish / Barnaby Vibes #i can easily imagine him reclined by a tree absentmindedly playin his accordion... smokin... in this outfit hat tipped down over his eyes #barnaby my beloved <3 #and bardaby my beloved <3 #also ill admit!!!#that lute is traced from a real image lmfao there was no way in hell i was scribbling that thing from scratch #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #i lowkey feel bad for barnaby when he finds out about the whole warlock thing #bc hes been traveling with wally for Years #barnaby likes to think that he knows everything about his little buddy #and then wally has to be like 😬#yeah im actually not technically a real person #also there's this 'demon' i have a pact with & also a weird kinda non-platonic Cant Be Accurately Labeled intimate relationship with #oh and i sometimes sacrifice innocent people to it in a pinch. the rest of the time we eat enemies' souls #and barnaby just has to! deal with that! like oh great! his bestie has been lying to his face since they met!#ands its been Seamless Lying!#suffice to say barnaby has a crisis #and now since wally can be more open about home #there's a sort of... pointless Rivalry for wally's attention/affection #even though barnaby definitely misjudges the situation and how home feels about wally...#oh switching gears back to the instrument thing!#in my mind barnaby also knows how to play the harp really well #and howdy's tavern has a corner for live music - which includes a permanently placed harp <3 #so i think on quiet days barnaby will go play the harp while howdy cleans glasses & the others do their own quiet things #maybe its raining outside! or Snowing! but the tavern is cozy and warm & there is beautiful music <3

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kaegetsmewetter · 5 months

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( but i know you heard my drive is crazy! ) — yannie

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

inspired by | the body by wale ft. jeremih

featuring | rollerskater!ony x blackfem!reader

synopsis | just some headcanons 😙

word count | 805

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

rollerskater!yannie was always at the rink every saturday, practically making it apart of his weekend routine. finding it as a way to settle down and relax after a long week at the shop cutting hair and watching after his younger brother.

rollerskater!yannie who always pulled up with his boys as they all took in the hobby as young boys just to do something besides the other hobbies (basketball, football, soccer…) from their youth.

rollerskater!yannie who always looked so damn fine in the rink. with the white tee that hugged at his tattooed covered arms, to the gold chain that rested on his chest, his waves that make you sea sick if you stare too long. all the way to his chocolate skin that glowed beautifully under the multicolored lights. but what really had the girls go crazy were the gold slugs that decorated his bottom row of teeth which completed the beautiful smile he graced to everybody that only revealed his cute dimples. the man was god like.

rollerskater!yannie who truly knows how to maneuver on the floor! he knows all the tricks from skating backwards to swerving through the crowd of people like nothing. it was almost mesmerizing to see.

rollerskater!yannie who for the most part stayed to himself while he skated, doing an independent thing while he left the ladies to his guys. watching them ease their way besides some girl and chopping it up. yannie wasn’t opposed to it, but no one really caught his eye. well, that was before tonight.

rollerskater!yannie who just entered the skating rink right at 10:00 with the guys as they made their ways to the benches. only having light chatter amongst each other catching up with one another about the week and what was going on, the basics. just as he laced up his skates, the man stood to his full height, skating over to the wall, simply watching the crowd a bit before he would occupy the space. but as the dj changed to the slow set, it was like the opening scene of a movie.

the sound of jeremih’s voice filled the arena, the mood setting in quickly as everyone somehow began to ease into the tempo. it was as if the lights got dimmer suddenly when you appeared in his gaze. your movements were fluid, seductive even, casting him under a spell. your thick thighs encapsulated in your bodysuit hugging your body so nice, your faux locs pulled up into an effortless messy bun that framed your features perfectly. oh you were beautiful. you were feeling the song to the t, moving your hips with ease before arching your back, easing through the crowd backwards which only had ony moving before he could realize. his moves were clean, trying to catch up after you before he was a few inches behind. watching you up close, seeing how you swayed to the beat, your dangles jingling at each movement.

swiftly following behind you, he placed his arm around your waist as you continued to ease against the rink, only glancing over at the man, “what’s your name, ma?” ony asked not trynna waste anytime.

you could only grin as you continued to skate with him, keeping a steady speed, “y/n, and you are?” you questioned, fluttering your lashed extensions at the man that only made his heart flutter, “onyankopon, but everybody call me yannie.” he smiled, staring down at you as he took your hand and spun you around, only to bring you back into his body, resting his hands on your waist as y’all skated backwards.

“yannie? that’s cute.” you complimented, placing your hands atop of his, “how come i’ve never seen you around?” he questioned, his lips near your ear as your hips swayed with the beat once more, “i just moved here not that long ago…just wanted to do something.” you admitted with a soft shrug as you pulled away from him to skate over to the benches.

quickly following over you, ony went after you, standing above you, “well if you want, i could show you around sometime.” he suggested with a smile revealing those dimples, which made you grin at the suggestion, “that’s so sweet, yannie, i’ll have to think about it.” switching back into your converses, you held your pink laced skates in your jewelry covered hands, “it was nice meeting you, yannie.” you said softly as you made your way towards the exit, “y/n!” ony called after you, stopping you in your tracks as you looked back at him, “let me get your number!” he asked, the slugs pushing you to say yes but instead, “i’ll give it to you if you see me again, onyankopon.” and with that, you were gone. and like that, ony was stuck.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

sticky star from kae: this idea purely spawned from those rollerskater videos!! like they been popping up on my fyp but comeeee on like y’all can’t tell me yannie wouldn’t be one of those fine skaters just ughhhhh 😫 if y’all want more i am so willing but until next time, mwah 💋

#KAESTAR’S PEN 🖊️#aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader #aot x black reader

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melrodrigo · 8 months

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When The Night Falls - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday isn’t soft. But when it comes to a certain someone…

Warnings: Angsty fluffy crap mixed together, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: HA! You guys thought I would do something from the poll? I’m an uncontrollable creature. Also, this is semi inspired by ‘reckless’ by madison beer.

Wednesday Addams was not soft. In fact, that was the last word she would ever use to describe herself.

But today, when she had swung open her door, ready to give whoever woke her up at 2 a.m. hell; she was surprised to find out she felt a little bad after seeing your crying figure.

“Wednesday?” You sniffle, swiping at your eyes desperately in an attempt to look somewhat presentable.

The raven-haired girl stares at you blankly, refusing to give away any of the emotions she was feeling.

Eyes all red and puffy, nose tinted pink; she hated to admit it, you look cute.

The thing was, for the past few weeks, Wednesday’s been feeling weird around you.

At first, she thought that maybe you were using your powers to cast a poisonous spell on her. But on further inspection, she realized you were casting a spell on her, just a very different one from what she expected.

It’s a peculiar feeling, having feelings for someone.

She doesn’t think she’s ever really experienced all that “crush” or “love at first sight” nonsense Enid keeps gushing about.

But right now, with you standing in front of her, she thinks she finally feels those funeral flowers budding all throughout her chest, wrapping itself tight around her heart.

“Do you mind if I come in?” You ask timidly.

Wednesday steps back without a second thought, still staring hard as you walk in. She’s suddenly struck with the realization that you came to her first, out of everyone in the whole school, even her bubbly roommate. It makes her heart sing.

You and Enid had a thing going on. The whole school knew that. You weren’t exactly together, but the look on your face when you talked about Enid was enough for Wednesday to keep her mouth shut about her feelings.

But she came to me, Wednesday thinks.

She walks towards you, tapping you softly on the shoulder.

You whirl, and immediately throw yourself at her, letting your whole body engulf hers.

You hear Wednesday let out a quiet gasp and it makes you giggle a little.

You know she’s not uncomfortable, and you know the tap was an invitation or at least an allowance for you to touch her. You have a bit of a reputation for being the only person Wednesday was willing to let hug her, apart from Enid.

Days spent with Enid usually meant days spent with Wednesday, and by now, you were fluent in the language of her.

“What happened so suddenly that you felt the need to wake me in the middle of the night?” She finally asks, failing to sound sympathetic.

She doesn’t expect it to sound mean, and you know that, so you pay her tone no mind.

“I found Enid w-with Ajax.” You tell her, voice cracking at the end of your sentence, tears welling at the corners of your eye.

Wednesday wasn’t an idiot. She knows what “finding them together” means, and despite all her fondness for the young blonde, she can’t help the anger that stirs in her immediately.

Here you were, crying and troubled over her stupid roommate (crying very prettily might she add), and what, Enid was with Ajax? Of all people?

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. I know how much you adored Enid.” She murmurs, ignoring the instant tugging in her heart at the sight of you wide-eyed and looking up at her.

To her surprise, you giggle a little, and it sends shockwaves through your and her own body.

You reach up gingerly, pausing long enough for Wednesday to refuse your touch if she wants to, but the goth girl stays quiet, and so you brush away some of the bangs that are covering her face.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, staring at her eyes and then her lips. “To be honest with you, that’s not even the whole reason I was crying.”

“Why were you crying then?” She inquires, and you notice her hands flexing at her side.

“I think…I might like someone else. And I was kind of upset, because- I thought Enid really liked me. But I guess not, so it all works out doesn’t it?” You laugh dryly.

Wednesday’s eyes widen at your confession, suddenly feeling squirmish underneath your gaze. Her whole body freezes, and her mouth feels dry.

It would work out if I was your partner, she thinks.

“Relax, Wends.” You murmur, placing your head back down to her chest. Your words seem to calm her down a little.

“It’s funny, I don’t like her anymore, but when she gets with someone else, I get sad. How messed up of me is that?” You tilt your head up, watching Wednesday gulp once before speaking.

“It is a stupid thing to feel.” Is what she answers, racking her brain to think of something better to say.

You hum, and everything goes quiet for a while. You feel safe, in Wednesday’s arms, in her bed, and you don’t care if Enid comes back to the dorm and sees this.

Before you know it, you’re drifting off into some walmart heaven- the smell of Wednesday encompassing you and the softness of her skin pressing against you.

“YN?” She whispers, stirring you from your so-close-to-sleep state.

You hum in question.

“Now that you aren’t interested in Enid, are you interested in anyone?” She asks, trying her best to not sound too interested in what you have to say.

You smile soft, the drowsiness making your critical thinking skills all mushy.

“Yeah, I told you that already.” You tell her and promptly snuggle yourself further into the girl.

When Wednesday finally gathers up the courage to ask you who it is, you’re fast asleep, snoring quietly on her.

The next morning, when you wake up alone, feeling the most well-rested you’ve felt in a long time, you barely notice the dark colors of the bedsheets.

It takes you a minute, but you prop yourself up on your elbow, trying to figure out where the hell you are.

But as the events of the night prior come back to you, you find yourself grinning.

“Stop smiling like that. You look weird.” Wednesday quips, and your eyes dart to where she is, hunched over by her typewriter. There’s a glint in her eye that tells you she’s joking.

You flash her another toothy grin, surprised when she sends you a tiny smile back. And then, as if she’s just gotten shy, she turns back to her typewriter and ignores your teasing remarks.

You sigh dramatically and flop back onto her bed.

“I’m gonna sleep here from now on!” You announce.

You take her silence as a quiet acceptance.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday #mine #wednesday addams x reader

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bealovesmarauders · 1 year

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invisible string / james potter

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

james potter x fem reader

word count: 4k

in which james potter has a quidditch injury, and, in healing, meets someone special <3

and isn’t it just so pretty to think, that all along there was some invisible string?

a/n: i've left reader's illness ambiguous because many people go through many different things, however this is heavily based off of personal experience. TW for hospitals, illness, and swearing (kinda??). this is my very first fic so i hope you all enjoy! you are not alone. you are beautiful. you are valid, & my inbox is always open if anyone wants to talk <33 likes & reposts are very appreciated especially as i'm trying to grow my account!!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

the hospital wing is quiet, and james potter is lonely.

he has never been this isolated before. he's sunshine, really- constantly soaking up love, light, and laughter. james thrives off of other people, and the fun that comes with them. merlin knows he's never turned down a prank- never missed a gryffindor house party- never passed up the opportunity to sneak into hogsmeade. but then again, james has never had a quidditch injury this bad either.

it was a normal practice, as it goes. he'd tweaked his shoulder about a week prior during a particularly rough collision with a hufflepuff player during a game, but he'd brushed it off- it was nothing. remus, naturally, had worried- "you'll make it worse, prongs,"- but the pain went away almost instantaneously due to a handy numbing spell flitwick had taught in charms a few months before. honestly, james had forgotten about it (among the numerous assignments he'd forgotten to do for both potions and transfiguration). but this practice had gotten...rowdy, to say the least, and he'd fallen off his broom, landing on his left arm and shoulder while attempting to show off a trick with the golden snitch.

he'd never felt any pain like it, really. madam pomfrey had performed a basic charm to mend his fractured collarbone, but there had been severe nerve and muscle damage to his shoulder, arm, and back. “we'll have to wait it out," the matron had told him, “but you musn't move it."

james knows he was impatient, but waiting is difficult when you're always the first at everything. the first young seeker in gryffindor history to catch the snitch and win the house cup in sixty years, the first student to ever get detention from professor dumbledore, always the first to down a shot at a common room party. in hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have snuck out to attempt a workout a few days into his stay at the hospital wing. “but what do you expect me to do?" he'd argued with professor mcgonagall when she found him cradling his injured arm close to his body in the common room rather than the hospital wing. “you let remus read and do his studies when he's ill! why not me? quidditch is my destiny!"

so now james is going on his fifth night in the wing, and madam pomfrey estimates he'll be staying for another week due to the damage caused from his impromptu exercise session. the matron is kind enough, and her touch is gentle on his shoulder, but no amount of gobstones with sirius and remus when they're out of class can cure james's boredom.

the wing is often empty. there's always an occasional illness, or spell gone wrong, but the healer witch always whips up a healing potion or casts a helpful charm in no time. it's her job, james knows, and so is confiscating the snitch in his pocket. but sometimes he wishes he would have a companion who lasts more than a few hours. maybe it's awful of him to think- that there would be someone in bad enough condition so that he could make a friend. and so james sulks.

but today, that changes. and, as james potter is soon to realize, fate- whether it be quidditch or love- often finds its way.

james hears many things when he wakes up in the middle of the night. voices- not unusual, but louder and more urgent than the typical hum of the hospital wing, especially at this time. forcing his eyes open and fumbling for his glasses, he draws the pale green curtains around his bed open to investigate the hubbub. to his surprise, his assumption in the multitude of voices is correct. through the darkness, james can just make out madam pomfrey in her crimson dress across the room, along with professors mcgonagall and dumbledore crouched around a rickety metal bed matching his own. madam pomfrey appears to be quickly mixing up a lavender potion, and mcgonagall and dumbledore step aside to speak in hushed whispers just loud enough for james to hear snippets.

“...very sick..”

“...st. mungo's..”

“..excused from classes..”

james's brow furrows, straining his eyes and ears for more. a sliver of moonlight passes through the latticed window above him, and he can barely see a figure on the bed being tended to by madam pomfrey. even the thought of st. mungo's seems extreme. but then madam pomfrey's voice, usually calm (or peeved), cuts through the night air shrilly.

“albus! minerva! i need your assistance-”

james sits up straight to catch a glimpse of what's happening, wincing from the hot flash of pain radiating from his arm and shoulder. but as the professors rush past him, dumbledore pauses before flicking his wand, consequently drawing the pale green curtains around james's bed closed.

“mr. potter,” he says with a tone james can't quite decipher, “there is something to be said about prying eyes on a night such as this one.”

with these cryptic final words, james runs a hand through his dark curls and falls back on his pillows, defeated and slightly ashamed of his own curiosity.

but, as we all know, the sun will rise again in the morning.

when james wakes, madam pomfrey is bustling around, and everything seems normal. normal, until he catches a glimpse of the figure in the bed. it's a familiar face, james realizes- a girl in his year, friends with lily evans and partnered with remus in potions class. he's seen her studying in the library on more occasions than one, studying by herself or with remus. warm sunlight pools on her bed, but her face is paler than nearly headless nick.

it takes james a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes and regain memory of the night before. “poppy," he says, morning voice rough. “come to visit me again? couldn't keep away?"

madam pomfrey makes her way over to james to hand him his daily painkillers, a sludgy potion the texture of chalk. “mr. potter," she says severely, “how many times have i kindly requested that you address me by my preferred title?"

james is about to make a wisecrack at this, but chokes a bit on the potion instead. it's been several days, but he's not sure if he'll ever be used to the medication. “sorry," he says, grimacing. and then when curiosity overtakes him- “what happened last night- y'know, with that girl?"

madam pomfrey shakes her head, making a tsk sound. “that's not for me to share," she says. “but best not wake her."

james spends the rest of his morning chewing on buttered toast- one of the foods madam pomfrey says will help him heal quicker- and pretending to read a book on broomstick care that remus bought for him last christmas. it motivates him to get back on the field. he would do anything to polish his broom right now- he finds it relaxing, having a routine. but the words swim on the page and staring mindlessly at it does him no good, so he sips on pumpkin juice and finds himself watching the girl in the bed across the room.

she looks peaceful when she's sleeping. fragile, even, as if she might shatter into a million pieces if he were to touch her. hair fanned out on the soft pillow, she looks weak, bundled up in extra blankets. a muggle contraption that remus has mentioned before feeds a concoction of some sort through a long, clear tube into the girl's arm, and several more finicky-looking wires seem to be attached to her. that must feel awful, james thinks. he hopes she's okay. she's quite pretty, after all- it would be a shame if she was stuck in here for a while. hopefully she's out before he is.

when the girl finally awakes, looking rather disoriented, madam pomfrey rushes right back in, and james finds himself peering at a pale green curtain again. what is it with this matron and her privacy curtains? when james was getting fixed up, he was not allowed the luxury of them- instead he was forced to watch the bubbling pustules of a slytherin student beside him resulting from sudden onset dragonpox. sirius had gotten a right kick out of that one.

the rest of the marauders come to visit around lunch, and by then the curtains have opened again, revealing the girl once more. for once, james has trouble focusing on the words coming from sirius's mouth.

“...and then the spell just ricocheted off the wall and hit flitwick smack dab on the nose. he just about blew a fuse! prongs? prongs, are you listening?"

james startles when sirius's voice becomes louder. “sorry?"

remus eyes him, a concerned look on his face. "bloody merlin, you're out of it today," sirius replies, smirking. he's about to continue on with his story when james speaks.

“who's that girl?"

the marauders turn to glance. the girl is sleeping again, or has at least closed her eyes, the matron at her bedside. remus smiles knowingly.

“that's y/n l/n. she's very kind, prongs, you should make friends with her."

“isn't she friends with lily? have you moved on from your precious flower?" sirius asks teasingly. james smacks him gently on the head. “i'm just...curious. has she been in here before?"

remus gives a brief nod. “it's how we met. full moon. ya know."

james, leaves it at that- something remus recognizes as out of character, yet it doesn't go unappreciated. james doesn't want to pry, or invade y/n's privacy. maybe he'll talk to her when she wakes up. instead, james musters a smile, tries to force the trademark glint in his eye, and deals a rousing round of exploding snap with his best friends.

"psst!"

y/n l/n wakes up to an obnoxious sound from across the room. everything hurts, she's exhausted, and consequently, she's definitely not in the mood for mischief. regardless, she looks up. and what a sight to behold but none other than james potter.

james potter. of course it's james potter. remus's beautiful best friend, lover of mischief, master of quidditch. except evidently he still has much to learn on the quidditch front- his muscled arm is heavily bandaged, lying close to his chest in a sling. she forces herself to look up- his biceps look a little too nice peeking out of the hospital gown- and meets his deep brown eyes. “hello."

“hey," he parrots back.

there's an awkward silence in which they look each other up and down. she prays she's not drooling.

“what'd you wake me up for?" she finally asks. something in his tone has tied her tongue momentarily, and her voice is soft.

james grins. “it's lonely in here. and you don't seem to need any beauty sleep, you're pretty already."

so this is how it is. y/n blushes and smiles a little. for a moment, she forgets they're in the infirmary. “i'm y/n."

“i know," james replies. “i'm james. pleasure t' meet you."

y/n finds her voice again. “i know," she mimics. “you're friends with remus."

james attempts running a hand through his messy curls using his injured arm- presumably a flirtatious move, but it results in an exaggerated gasp of pain and eliciting a small laugh from y/n. she winces as she props herself up a bit, accidentally tugging on the muggle tubes attached to her body. to her surprise, james's demeanor changes completely, and all of a sudden he's the worried-looking one, asking hesitantly if she's okay, his voice laced with concern.

she smiles, albeit a weak one. “yeah. i'm used to it."

looking around, y/n realizes madam pomfrey is nowhere to be seen. noticing this, james clears his voice. “she's helping out with all the seventh-years. they're learning how to apparate, and there's a hell of a lot of splinching. she'll be back soon."

y/n nods, looking as if she's about to ask something. butterflies in james's stomach arise- a rare occurrence since his fifth rejection from lily evans- and the curly haired gryffindor feels as if he can tell there are words on the tip of her tongue, but perhaps she's too shy to say. “do you need anything?"

she exhales, and james realizes she's shivering despite the excess of blankets wrapped around her. “can you- can you get me a blanket? i would get one myself, but i don't think i can walk right now."

he nods so quickly she thinks he'll break his neck. “of course," he replies, and she attempts to shoot him a small smile despite the pain. james's heart flutters, and he gets up shakily from the bed. he's been bedridden for a while, so he's not used to walking, but it's clear already he's in a better position then her. making his way over to madam pomfrey's cupboard of linens and hospital gowns, james attempts to inject some swagger into his strut, prompting another small giggle. when he's finally by her bed, handing her the thick wool blanket, james's shoulder's aching more than it should, but he swallows and puts on another teasing tone. just for her.

“milady," he bows, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders as she props herself up into a sitting position. she shivers, but some color returns to her cheeks once she's started to warm up. “why thank you, kind sir. my knight in shining armor."

james stands there awkwardly holding his sling for a moment, and y/n is beginning to wonder if she shouldn't have asked him for help, but just as casually as she'd hoped, he lowers himself into the hospital bed beside her own, sitting like a little boy, criss-cross applesauce leaning back against the pillows.

a smile slowly spreads across y/n's face, and it warms james's heart. “i guess you'll be staying here for a while."

“i guess i will," james agrees, and neither of them can deny the tension in the air.

they spend the rest of the afternoon together talking and getting to know each other. madam pomfrey doesn't get back for a while- potentially prompted by a knowing remus waiting outside the hospital wing with a tale spun of sirius suffering from an unprompted vicious hiccup attack requiring immediate medical attention. (the marauders are positive that james wouldn't mind them stealing a few of his hiccough sweets from his zonko's stash if it meant more time alone with y/n.) james gets to know her favorite things- books, music, et cetera- and entertains her with stories about some of his most infamous pranks. surprisingly enough, when the matron returns, she only gives james a mild scolding for switching beds (“i'm sure you're up to no good, mr. potter,"), pours y/n another dose of medication, and- miraculously!- leaves them be.

the two grow close quickly over the next while. their conversations range from quidditch cup predictions to more vulnerable subjects, and they bond over their distaste for missing class. james knows not to push, but the elephant in the room looms over them: james growing healthier by the day, y/n deteriorating.

the conversation becomes difficult to avoid. soon, james's sling is taken off, and his new friend gasps excitedly at the news when she wakes up, stretching her arm out between their two beds to squeeze his hand affectionately. “you'll be out of here in no time," she grins, but the realization comes with a sense of deflatement. honestly, james doesn't know how he feels about it. he wants to get back to his friends, to life, to house parties, to quidditch. hell, even back to normal classes, with homework. but he doesn't think he can bear leaving her behind.

but overall, the encouragement and company of james's new friend makes resting easier, and in no time he settles into a new routine. his morning consists of waking up, taking his potion, eating, and talking with y/n, while his afternoons typically include having lunch, visiting the marauders, talking more with y/n, and eating dinner. due to the abundance of rest james is getting, he's healing faster, which pleases madam pomfrey very much- and it comes as a shock when she discharges him from the infirmary.

“are you positive?" james asks, slightly flabbergasted.

the matron gives him a dry smile.

“yes mr. potter, i am confident that you are successfully mended and i am rid of you at last."

james, elated, lets out a delighted whoop. he has to restrain himself from sweeping madam pomfrey up into a hug and spinning her around, he's so happy. but then the realization hits him- y/n. she's sleeping right now- she's been weaker than usual lately, never feeling well enough to talk for more than ten minutes. the muggle wires feeding into her body have multiplied, and the infirmary is significantly quieter, bar madam pomfrey's footsteps to check on her every once in a while. he doesn't want to leave her. that is the plain, simple truth.

james soaks in these thoughts for the rest of the afternoon, preparing to tell her when she wakes up. but she stays fast asleep. when remus and sirius come to visit and he breaks the news that he's out, he's mended, james greeted with open arms and claps on the back. but james catches the worried glance remus sends to his potions partner, dozing away in the next bed over. she looks as if she's barely breathing. it’s an odd mix of emotions. hoping to say goodbye, james eats one last meal in the hospital wing, and double checks with the matron that he’s totally healed. but all signs are clear, so he’s officially dismissed.

james stays uncharacteristically silent as he walks up to the gryffindor common room with all of his things- his sleakeasy hair potion, his robes, his stolen snitch given back by pomfrey. he's missing something- a goodbye. but he'll visit her later. he'll say farewell. because he has to. but until then, james thinks, he can distract himself.

of course, sirius and marlene have organized a welcome-back party. even james, forever a maximalist, thinks it's a bit over the top. he loves sirius, they’re brothers, but james feels wrong being here. the only comfort he seeks is not in the fireworks terrorizing the portraits, or the butterbeer pong, or even in lily's open arms, who seems to have missed him quite a bit. it's the hospital wing he craves. calm, quiet, empty, yet filled with laughter. or rather, y/n.

dwelling on his thoughts, james takes a long sip of firewhiskey, recoiling from the scorching feeling in his throat- it's been a while. he's here, but he's not present, and remus, who's been nursing spiked pumpkin juice all night from the corner, nudges james and whispers into his ear: “go get her, prongs."

james weighs his options. he knows sirius, currently snogging someone in the corner, would say the same- the marauders are less oblivious to james's connection with y/n then he'd hoped- and when he spots a hufflepuff jock slip through the portrait with a gaggle of girls behind him, he’s fairly certain his welcome party is over. fabian prewett, outraged at the infiltration and also mildly drunk on butterbeer, slugs the intruder right in the jaw, and when the hufflepuffs have retreated and fabian's hoisted up onto their shoulders, the new hero of the night upon his pedestal, james knows it's time to leave. this is his chance.

halfway to the hospital wing, he realizes that he doesn’t actually know what the hell he’s doing. showing up at midnight to a beautiful girl’s bedside empty handed? invisibility cloak draped around his shoulders, james picks up his pace as he jogs through hogwarts all the way to the courtyard. hands assured now, he plucks some wildflowers from the grass- it’s too dark to tell what they are- and knows that he is following his heart. bouquet in hand, james is running now, sprinting up the moving staircases as quietly as possible to reach the hallowed hall that’s home to the hospital wing. half of james’s heart wants to make a scene- to swing open the doors to the infirmary with a bang- but he knows all too well how obnoxious sleep disruptions can get. so he takes a deep breath, and enters the hospital wing.

there’s a faint light that greets james as he comes in. it’s y/n- glowing wand at her side, providing enough light to read a familiar book: his broomstick care manual. her face absolutely lights up when she sees james.

“hello there mr. potter,” y/n whispers, quiet even though there’s no one else in the infirmary. “i think you forgot something on your way out.”

she holds up his book, a twinkle in her eye- one james hasn’t seen before. he rushes over to her bed, eager to gift her the bouquet. “well, you can keep it, love, along with the flowers.”

y/n buries her face in the wildflowers, immersing herself in the scent. moonlight pools through the latticed window, illuminating her face. she looks happy. truly happy. “thank you, james.”

there’s a moment, one where they are both gazing at each other, completely enamored. james is in pajamas, of all things- a heather gray shirt and plaid bottoms. it’s a contrast to the hospital gown she’s used to seeing him in. and she can’t help herself anymore, taking his hand and holding it. such a simple gesture, but one that holds such significance and weight.

that’s when james knows. all that’s left unsaid has been conveyed in the touch of a hand, and the wistful look in her eyes confirms it. he gently brushes away a stray wisp of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and his thumb comes to rest on her cheek, stroking it softly. and she knows, too.

“james."

a pause.

“i’m sick. i’ve been sick since first year. i’m getting better, madam pomfrey says. but it’s a long recovery. i don’t want you to feel burdened by me. you’re not even supposed to be here. you should be at the welcome back party. lily was telling me about the planning of it. i thought you’d be pleased, you’d be having fun. back to normal, you know. but you’re here. why are you here, james?”

“i’d rather be here, love,” he tells her, truthfully. he takes a flower from the bouquet he made for her and places it in her hair. “you know i would. you’re not a burden. you’re so beautiful, sweetheart. and kind, and sweet, and funny. and anything at the party, we can do here. don’t believe me? want to dance?”

james potter offers his hand to her. she takes it, of course. and then all of a sudden she’s smiling, tears disappearing, as he carefully helps her get up and sweeps her into his arms, humming a soft melody and swaying her back and forth slowly in a slow, sweet dance- careful to not pull on any of her tubes and wires. she nestles the top of her head into the crook of his neck, and he kisses her forehead gently.

“it’s me and you against this illness, love,” he says through hums. she smiles up at him.

“you, me, and the invisible string tying us together.”

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milksuu · 11 months

Text

Second Magic

Pairing(s): Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & II / witch!fem!reader

Word count: 2.OK

Content/Warnings: soulmates, reincarnation, immortal, soft magic, slice of life, fluff, minimal use of y/n, minor angst, implied sexual themes, minor blood

Summary: Death claims everyone at some point. Unfortunately for you, your gift of magic cursed you with eternal youth and an ability that has shunned you from the village of Berk. More than one-hundred years later, memories resurface when you’re visited for a potion from Berk’s next chief.

He was the spitting image of your long-lost love—your soulmate—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.

a/n: hello there everyone! I'm back with something new to add to the hiccupxreader tags. still on my mythical/magical kick. I do plan to have about three parts to this. so please stay tuned for updates, or let me know if you'd like to join a tag list. thank you and please enjoy.

There came a knock at the door. No one ever knocked on a witch's door by accident.

From the bedroom window, you peeked through the muslin curtain. Below the two-story cottage, grew a garden of lush greens and wild flowers. Where the weeds and dandelions led a trail to your front porch, a figure stood at your door. More pestering thuds bothered the home and the skin of your nose wrinkled. Muttering a thing or two, you ambled down the aching stairs. Before reaching the door, you rummaged through a decorative drawer, procuring a gray river rock. It was enchanted with one of your magic spells—a screeching stone, you called it.

“You can stop trying to break down my door,” you said, pressing the stone against the entryway. “Didn’t you read the sign posted on the oak tree outside? Clearly, it said no trespassing.”

“No—think I might’ve missed it,” the muffled voice of a young man answered, and it seemed honest enough. The stone hummed at the response. “Are you [Y/N], by chance?”

“There’s a chance I could be,” you said with soured lips. “Not many people come this far into the woods. And fewer people know of me, let alone my name. Which leads me to ask, who exactly sent you?”

“Gothi sent me. She mentioned you two knowing each other,” he replied in truth, and the stone continued its soft hymns. “She said if there’s anyone who could help me, it would be you.”

She’s still alive?

“That all depends. I trust Gothi, but I’ll need to trust you as well. You can start by telling me your name.”

There was a beat in the air. “It’s Hiccup.”

The ghost of your breath trapped itself inside your chest. That name—it had been buried beneath over a century ago. Yet the stone sang sweetly, and your heart squeezed in a haunting delight. A part of you wished it would scream. Wretched and revolting as it was, it would give you reason to cast the stranger away.

To your grief, he wasn’t so much a stranger as you thought.

Pocketing the stone, you opened the door with a creak. Meeting the green meadow of his eyes, your magic dug its fiery claws between your ribs. With all your power, you tried not to let his familiar freckles unsettle you. Fearing if you did, your magic would spring out of control. The windows would shatter. The roof would crumble to dust. The fireplace would spark and scorch the floors. Or something much worse. Touch him, and reveal when death would knock on his own door.

You wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider. “Come in,” you said, "we can talk more inside.”

He tipped his chin and thanked you for the invitation. When he stepped through, his gaze swept about your home. Dried flowers, herbs and spices hung from every inch of ceiling by twine. Sunlight spilled from the white-painted windows, and warmed the cushions of two chairs perched near the fireplace. Bookcases stood on either side of the mantle, stretched tall enough to touch the rafters, and wide enough to cover the entire walls. At the back of the home was the kitchen and brewing space. With emerald cabinets and honied-countertops, stacked with jars and vials, scattered petals, and corked potions.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’ll prepare us something warm to drink.”

With a blink, he tore his gaze from the foliage and oddities. “Sure, I would appreciate it.”

When you left for the kitchen, he absently traced a hand against the chairs upholstery. Although it matched its counterpart, there were subtle differences; the legs were built taller, and arm rests crafted higher. When he took a seat, it felt made for someone of his stature—an odd thing to notice. His gaze raised to a row of books on one of the bookcase shelves. One particular book stood out among the jewel-toned backs of scarlet, green, and yellow. A simple spine of leather, softened over-time with use, and streaks of charcoal staining the edges.

Like a cool breeze, a sense of familiarity swept through him, touching the marrow of his bones. It begged the question.

“Have you always lived here by yourself?” Hiccup asked.

“You could say that.”

For a moment, you lost yourself in the fragrant pools. When was the last time you served someone tea? It may have been the day before a young man's mortal fate—the same day you couldn’t convince him to stay. Leaving you to join the collection of things he left behind. Your throat tightened around what felt like a ball of hot wax. Searing as it was, you swallowed its entirety.

Balancing the trembling porcelain, you returned to the next room and took a seat of your own.

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I’ve…never welcomed visitors. It’s always been safer that way.” With a smile, you offered him a cup. “But between Gothi sending you and your genuine nature, I’d like to help you.”

“Thanks—and you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m the one who decided to come here unannounced. So…” Hiccup trailed off, taking a drink. He stared at the ripples with solemnity. “My father isn’t doing so well. And you know Gothi, she’s the best Seer we have on Berk. She’s done all she can, but it’s not going to be enough. When I asked if there was anything more I could do, she recommended that I seek you out.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” you said, lowering your own cup. “If Gothi wasn’t able to help him, then he must be very sick.”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He worked the tension of his lips between his teeth. Then pitched a sincere look your way, and said, “So you know, I’m not worried about you being a witch. If anything, I find myself pretty lucky to ask for your help. Even if that does mean I have to sell my soul for it.”

“I have some good news for you, then. I won’t be needing it. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even know what to do with yours,” you said with a laugh. “But most spells and potions require something of personal value. At least, the stronger ones do.”

Setting your tea cup aside, you hopped onto your toes. Approaching one of the bookcases, you trailed a finger against the backs of countless titles. Your search came to an end when you plucked one out; dense with musky pages, a silver lock clasped at the side, and a small wooden door carved into the cover.

Peering over your shoulder, you found your nosy company arched forward in his chair. You cleared your throat, “Don’t think about peeking over here. A witch never reveals her secrets.”

He apologized under his breath, and shifted his chin away. But like a child snuffed out of his curiosity, he wore a pout of disappointment. You smiled in amusement, and brought your attention back to the book.

You knocked against the small door in a melodic tempo. The little door sprang open, revealing a tiny ear inside. You brought your mouth close, whispering the incantation with the smallest voice you could muster. Too loud, and the door would snap shut against your lips.

An unpleasant experience you remembered from childhood.

The lock clicked open, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Page after page, you mumbled and zipped through each recipe. A couple more turns, you tapped against the right one. Breezing through the ingredients, you had all but one. Oh buttercups, you blushed.

“What is it?” Hiccup furrowed his brows at your dawning expression. “Everything all right?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain. I—I don’t have one of the ingredients any longer. But maybe you still do,” you exclaimed, taming the warmth of your cheeks. “Come with me.”

With a tilt of your head, you gestured to the kitchen. Your guest rose from his seat, following your footsteps. With instructions for him not to touch anything, you scrambled to find your proper ingredients; mugwort, newt tail, bog water, and a strand of witch hair. Tossed and muddled by mortar and pestle, you poured the mixed contents into a glass jar.

“Time for the last ingredient,” you said, picking up a kitchen knife, “hold out a finger.”

Although hesitant, he lifted a hand. “Tell me you’re not going to cut it off. I’m already down a leg, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Not at all. That would be more than what I actually need,” you answered, albeit a little too plainly. With your other hand, you touched the stone tucked in your dress pocket. “You only have to be honest when I ask you this question. If you’re not, then we’ll both hear about it.”

He nodded carefully. “Go ahead.”

“Have you ever—Oh, how should I put this?” Calming the storm of embarrassment brewing in your chest, you exhaled the words in one breath. “Have you ever committed the coupling act?”

There was a gulp. Then a twitch of his lips. Followed by a blush that bloomed from nose to ear. “What? No, I—I haven’t. What kind of question is that?”

Without a word, you sliced the tip of his finger. A hiss sizzled from his mouth when you squeezed it open. Aligning the bottle underneath, you caught the blood falling in pitter-patters. Once enough dripped into the brew, a plum of red smoke burst into the air. Both of you coughed and waved your hands around the space. When the pungent cloud faded into wisps, you corked the bubbling potion.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” He wrapped his finger in a handkerchief you provided. He went on to mutter, “Not sure why you couldn’t use your own finger.” By the delivery, the last part was meant to stay in his head.

Embarrassment washed through your veins, and painted every inch of your skin posy pink. The sight of it colored his own complexion.

“I didn’t mean to say that, honestly,” he apologized after the realization struck him. “It just sort of came out.”

“Absolutely no tact at all,” you chastised, snatching back the handkerchief. “Gods, you’re just as bad as him.”

He blinked with mystification. “Him?”

A slip of the tongue had the back hairs of your neck bristling. Magic pulsed like coils of lightning in your stomach. Crackling up through your chest, wanting to burn deeper holes in your heart. The roof groaned and creaked. Grains of wood dust fell onto your nose, dispelling the awful feeling.

“You have to go. Please, take it and leave. And don’t worry about repaying me.” Before he could argue, you forced the potion into his possession. With a clap of a hand, the wood beneath his feet shifted, motioning him out the front door.

“Wait a second.“ He wedged his prosthetic between the shutting door and frame. “Right bookcase, third shelf, leather back.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“There’s a book that belongs to my family. Ask me how I know.” The question was rhetorical, and in your bafflement, he continued. “My families crest is sealed in its spine. And the only way you could have it is if someone gave it to you. You said you never had visitors. Sorry to say, but I’m not buying it.”

“That book has nothing to do with you or your family,” you glowered, and the stone screeched and howled from your pocket. You clapped your hands against your splitting ears, with your company mimicking your movements. Over the prevailing wails, you cried, “You’re right—I lied and I’m sorry for it! It belonged to your great-grand uncle. And that’s the truth of it.”

The screeching stone fell to whispers. But the thumping of your heart continued to beat in your ears.

“Wait. My great-grand uncle?” He caught a breath in his throat. “You don’t mean—there’s no possible way you’re talking about—”

“I am.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “My only visitor before you; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.”

#hiccup x reader #httyd #hiccup httyd #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #how to train your dragon #hiccup horrendous haddock ii #reader insert #httyd fanfiction #httyd 2 #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup x you #httyd book references #you bet we're going to get some flashbacks of hiccup the second #buckle up dragon riders #we're expecting some angst in this fanfic

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letshavedeernnertogether · 2 months

Text

We'll meet again

the plot is: (Y/n) summoms a demon, Alastor, to save herself from awful men and they make a deal. We'll see what comes next in subsequent chapters :>

I used she/her because it seems to me that the heroine has her own character and I thought it won't be right if I write you/your and than the heroine will make something out of your, reader, character, but I still used Y/n because I wanted to make you feel closer to this story and Alastor

english is not my mother-tounge, so I'm very-very sorry about the mistakes I must have made :'<

Part one, the summoning

Away! Farther from this place, as far as possible! It was just incredible to stay here for any longer. Although she couldn't leave this place she still could disappear for some time.

(Y/n) was running through the forest. Cold october wind rustled in her ears and scratched her cheeks, stained with tears. She breathed hard, suffocating with sob and run, but didn't want to stop to recover her wind.

She turned from the path and ran deep into the woods. She could barely see, where she was running, blinded by tears. The mist embraced her shoulders and waist, as if it asked her for a dance. Trees were bare and grey, the grass scratched her ankles. She often stumbled over the roots and stones, almost fell several times, but didn't stopped.

(Y/n) thought how marvelously would it be, if the Death would find her there right now. If she fell and bled until William, riding on the horseback, would find her, to took her to the cold and dirty marriage bed.

She was running until she ran out into a forest border, circled by high pines. There she fell exhausted.

She hated her existence that moment. She wanted to disappear. How awfully, how disgustingly, how abominably she felt! That dirty pig who dared to call himself their family's friend and who almost...

She wanted to kill him, she almost did it, when he grabbed her roughly and tried to press her lips against his. Only a memory made her shudder in disgust. But fortunately, a maid entered the room that moment, and (Y/n) ran away taking an occasion.

Now she cried her heart out.

If only she had the power... The power to take revenge. To do anything. To be anything.

She read about such power. In the books that (Y/n) called classics just because they were old, and that her mother called worthless, as they "don't teach how to live". (Y/n) always replied that these books taught her how to feel.

These books brought her up, even if their authors lived centuries ago. They told her about love, only one immortal love, and what a person could lose to get it.

The influence of these books was stronger due to the fact, that the house, where she lived, was located in the middle of nowhere, and throughout her life she communicated only with her parents, their few friends and servants.

Shaking with sobbing, she was lying on the ground. She knew that everything she read was just a fiction. There never existed any fausts, nor mephistos, nor witches nor evil forces. But she wished it weren't so.

So maybe she could try..?

She remembered a book, she found in the attick. Black leather binding, old yellow pages, blackletter.

"Circle, animals' bones and special words," she muttered.

After a while everything was done. All she had to do is to cast a spell.

Alasor was in his radio studio and he was going to start a brodcast. He made himself a cup of coffee, tuned the radio in and only just sat in his chair when something started to happen.

Everything around him flicked and rattled; the air was filled with red and black shadows.

"What is it?" he said.

Invisible force seized him and he felt the smell of rotten leaves.

Not even three seconds had passed, when the radio studio was empty.

Alastor found himself sitting on the ground in the middle of circle somewhere in a forest border. He saw a beautiful and frightened young woman in front of him. The hem of her long light dress was stained with mud. Hair was messy and her eyes were red of tears. She looked at him with her eyes wide opened, stilly moving her lips.

A human.

Alastor understood that he was still sitting on the ground and quickly stood up.

He noticed how small was this woman. He was tall enough even among the demons; and now standing opposite her he realized how small people were.

"Oh, god," she said and covered her mouth with her palm, "I can't believe. Am I insane?"

The man dusted his suit.

"If you summon a demon and then calling the god for help, then..." he almost closed his index finger and thumb, "maybe slightly mad?"

His voice sounded like coming out of a radio. His wide smile full of sharp yellow teeth gave (Y/n) the shivers. She was amazed at how classically devilish he looked. Could it be because of the colour of his clothes? He had a red pinstriped suit, a red shirt with two intersecting stripes forming something like a cross on his chest, a bowtie, black trousers and shoes with red toes. In his hand he held a strange cane that looked more like a microphone. His eyes were red, and she felt how hypnotical was his gaze. His hair was also red but with black tips. On the top of his head she saw ears and small antlers. "A deer demon?" she thought.

"Well," he said, "are you still going to remain silent and stare at me?"

He throwned but was still smiling.

"Sorry, it's just not every day you summon a demon haha" she began to stroke her hair.

"So is it your first time, hmm?"

She looked at him with her cheeks red, "Summoning? Yeah, exactly..."

(Y/n) thought that his voice was anodyne despite who he was. She couldn't deny that she found him all attractive.

"Well, dear," said the man, "tell the truth it's my first time either! Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" His speech became faster and he held out his hand (Y/n).

He was still in the circle and (Y/n) was out. She tipped her head and asked, "You can't cross this circle, can you?"

He was still holding his hand out her.

"I'm quite sure that you can," he said, gazing at her with a sharp smile.

"But I'm not actually sure if it's safe for me," (Y/n) replied.

He tilted his head sharply, and she heard something like a radio was crackling.

"What a bold girl," he thought.

He smiled wider and put his hands behind his back.

"Ha! Very well, dear! Now if you don't mind, explain me, why have you summoned me?"

Her face became severe; in her eyes he saw something very similar to the thirst for a revenge.

"I want the power."

He looked up at her.

"A demon like you can give me the power, right?" She looked at him with hope.

"What kind of power do you mean, darling?"

She hardly breathed, gazing at him.

"I want to be the one who can't be harmed or even touched by men. I want them to regret they meeting me."

He was surprised indeed, "Why such a unique request?"

She hugged herself by her shoulders, "Just make it," she said.

Alastor noticed how subdued and frightened she was.

Some people say if a person seeks for a devil's help this person is weak, desperate and lost their heart. But in actual fact, not every person dares to do it. Only a fearless, confident in their strength and knowledge and slightly mad, will make a deal. Of course, a lot is contingent. Nobody will ever say that Ambrosio was a strong and brave man. But the inner strength and spirit of Faust, his desire for knowledge and willingness to do anything to achieve his dream, can be envied by many. And Alastor was pretty sure about the strength of this girl. He was actually interested in her soul.

"Let's make a deal," he said holding his hand out again.

(Y/n) looked up at him. She was thinking. What would happen if she did it? Would she end up in hell? But wasn't her own existence hell already? But it was worth it, right? To sell her soul to save her body. Madness, some would say. Maybe she wasn't actually sane that moment, but she did want to revenge.

She came closer and erased a line between her and Alastor. She took his hand and a green light filled the forest. (Y/n) saw how his antlers grew much bigger, the smile stretched from ear to ear, his eyes glowed. She felt like something had changed inside of her.

And then silence.

"Well, dear, here is the contract. You must sign it." He gave her a parchment covered with dark red ink.

She took the paper and read it.

No matter how hard she tried to find something ambiguous in the document, she couldn't. "I guess a demon gets your soul not with a trap in papers but with the formulation of your wish," (Y/n) thought.

And as the formulation of her own wish in papers seemed strange, she asked the demon, "I don't remember that I said something about the demons," she wanted to show Alastor the strange line in the contact, but he was already behind her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She responded with all-knowing tone, "I said, that I don't wanna be able to be harmed by any man, but you wrote here, that I don't wanna be harmed by any demons too."

"Why not, dear?" Alastor looked in her face. (Y/n) could see her reflection in his crimson eyes.

"My dear, I don't fill in the contact, you do." He drew himself up to his full height, "My job is to fulfil your wish in any way, that I think fit. You're the only one who formulates your desire, which is written here in the form you thought about it. So I believe it was you, and you only, who thought that you should be protected by demons too."

All of this he said smiling, accompanying his speech with graceful gestures.

"Evidently, you faced the demon," he put his hand on his chest, "me, and decided to save yourself from such a dangerous fellow." Alastor laughed and she couldn't hide her smile. His laugh was very infectious.

"Honestly, I find you better that most men I know," and before Alastor could realized what she said, (Y/n) asked, "But what about this part?"

(Y/n) pointed at red letters, where was said that neither men nor demons couldn't even touch her, unless she allow them to do it herself, with all her heart, completely trusting them.

"I'm sure, I couldn't think it. This point makes me defenceless. Also, I don't allow those I even trust to touch me. I don't like touch." She was serious as a heart attack.

Alastor leaned over her again to read red cursive. She mentioned that he smelled like fur and wood, and she also noticed a slight smell of coffee. "Can't believe a demon smells so nice," she thought.

"My dear, I must confess that I maybe thought this when we shook hands. Incredibly, how different the contracts between demons are from the contracts between a human and a demon!"

She frowned in cofusioun.

"I mean, my dear," he continued, "it would be quite difficult for you to never be interacted with anyone, there should be at least several men that you trust, aren't there?"

"No."

"Then don't worry!" He placed his hand on her shoulder and their cheeks touched, "this point doesn't mean anything for a reserved woman like you!"

He stood straight again.

"But how could be your thoughts written here?" she exclaimed. "Didn't you tell me several minutes ago, that I'm the only one who fills in the contract?"

"It's written in description of my protection of you," his voice became lower, "And as I mentioned before only I decide how to do it," and than backed to normal.

"All right," she sighed. She suspected that it was a trap, something that she would regret later; but she didn't want to worry about it too much. She was sure in her distrust of people.

(Y/n) continued on reading. It was a part of what Alastor would do to protect her.

"As you see, darling," Alastor looked at his nails, "I will always be by your side." He smiled wider at her.

"I give you my shadow," He hastened to add, "well, only a part of it, otherwise you would have my shape of shadow hahaha!"

She glanced at his shadow. Yeah, it would be difficult to explain why did a girl had a shadow of a tall, slim, deer like man.

She looked at the contact again. She sighed and signed it without hesitation. Before she had time to finish the last letter, the contact disappeared in green light.

Alastor stood in the bright green light holding out his hand. His antlers grew larger, reminding the branches of a dead wood. His smile was stitched, and on his forehead (Y/n) saw "X".

They shook hands and all of this had disappeared.

"Well, dear," Alastor adjusted his jacket, "now I'd like to warn you that this shadow has quite a cruel character!" He grined.

(Y/n) looked at her shadow under her feet. It had the same shape as usual, but it was much darker now. And then she saw how the shadow changed its shape in the place of the head. A long sharp arc appeared there. It looked like a smile. (Y/n) felt a shiver run down her spine. The smile disappeared.

"It'll get rid of your evildoers." The demon came closer. "But you need to remember, my dear, that it won't help you, if you let them harm you." He made her look at him, raising her chin. "You're invulnerable now, but you still can be harmed by any woman or anyone who you trust. So choose wisely."

She didn't move. She felt hypnotized, and his touching gave her a little tremble. "What did you say about touching just a moment ago?" said an annoying voice in her head.

"Funny, I told you to chose wisely who to trust, but still I can touch you." Alastor was smiling at her and ran his thumb down her chin. She still didn't move. He drew himself up straight and let her go. She blinked as if coming out of a trance. He put his palm on his chest saying, "I'm very flattered."

It seemed to (Y/n) that she saw some kind of softness and his eyes. But a sardonic grin appeared at his face again.

"Well, my dearest, with this I say goodbye to you." Alastor stepped in the drew circle. He looked around him and sayid to (Y/n), "Interesting, dear, but it seems to me, that I can't leave you until you command."

She looked at him. She understood that she didn't want him to leave. His face, his voice, his manner of speaking... She already missed it.

Did he saw a regret in her eyes?

"It was a real pleasure to get acquainted with you," Alastor said.

"Shall we meet again?" She asked and made a tiny step forward.

"I'm sure we'll do."

She gazed at him, pressing her hands to the chest. They would meet. He gave her power. She was saved. They would meet.

She took a stick and completed the erased circle.

"Goodbye, Alastor."

(Y/n) was left alone.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n

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cloudcountry · 1 year

Text

HELP I'VE BEEN CURSED

SUMMARY: Sebek thinks you've put a spell on him. In a way, he's not wrong.

CHARACTER: Sebek Zigvolt.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: Sebek not understanding romantic feelings and going WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS when he catches them >>>>>>>>>>

~~~~~

One moment Lilia was working on his next masterpiece, a blackberries roast beef asparagus casserole, and the next, Sebek was bursting down his door with red cheeks and wide eyes. Whipping his head to face his dormmate, Lilia couldn’t help but smile at the frantic expression on his face.

“Master Lilia! I seek your guidance!” Sebek yelled, “I fear I have been cursed!”

“Oh no. We can’t have that, can we?” Lilia placed a hand under his chin thoughtfully, “Do explain.”

“It’s the Prefect!” Sebek huffed, shaking his head dramatically, “They must have cast a spell on me to remove me from the Young Master! I feel a pull towards them that cannot be explained! It’s illogical and uncalled for! What makes it even worse is the way my heart reacts to them—it palpitates! It’s incredibly concerning! Master Lilia, what shall I do?”

Lilia was baffled for a few beats before a small smirk worked its way onto his face.

Aww, it sounded like little Sebek was in love!

Laughing to himself, Lilia gazed at his underclassman affectionately.

“Listen carefully, Sebek.” he narrowed his eyes dramatically, “A curse has been placed on you, but not by the Prefect. The only way you can lessen the effects of the curse is by staying with them. I’m afraid it may last a while, but staying with them should build your immunity. Make sure to treat them well and make them feel comfortable. That’s essential.”

“Yes, Master Lilia!” Sebek nodded vigorously, “I’ll follow your instructions perfectly! Thank you for your guidance!”

Lilia could barely hold in his laughter as Sebek ran out of the room, surely off to find you and fulfill his duty. He just hoped you were ready to have a rowdy boy trailing after you for however long it took for Sebek to confess to you directly. Humming a jolly little tune to himself, Lilia started his lovely cooking experiment once again.

📚

“Sebek...? May I ask why you’re following me?” you asked, staring at the stack of your textbooks in his arms, “And why did you insist on carrying my stuff? You usually just laugh at me-”

“I’m doing this for Malleus!” he yelled, staring straight ahead with a slight flush to his cheeks, “Don’t ask questions, human! I’m not doing this for you!”

“Right, right.” you hummed, patting his shoulder absentmindedly, “Thank you though. Those books are pretty heavy. It’s helpful having someone like you around to help carry all this stuff since Grim can’t carry his own things.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault!” Grim crossed his arms, huffing angrily.

Sebek nearly recoiled at your touch, the contact sending a shock wave through his brain that sent his heart into another frenzy. There was no way you were a magicless human! You must be a secretly powerful mage deep down, sent to infiltrate Night Raven College and get to the Young Master! Sebek narrowed his eyes at you as you mumbled something about lunch, hoisting your bag higher on your shoulder. Yes...he’d have to observe you more. For Malleus. (Not because he liked being around you, bleh. What a ridiculous idea.)

#auburn's fics <3 #drabbles <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt fluff #sebek fluff #lilia vanrouge here is the little shit of the year award #you've earned it <333

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justsalpals · 7 days

Text

Jace knew pain. He could handle that.

No, the worst part of dying was the fear. That split second before the end when pain took a backseat, a fluttering consciousness latching onto the only thing he knew for certain.

This was the end. This was it. No more. Over. Dead. Gone. Finished.

His chest spasmed in wild aborted half-breaths, choking on bloody phlegm his body wanted desperately to expel but lodged in his ragged throat. Fingers twitched as if to form the somatic components for a spell he lacked the energy to cast. The world shifted and sputtered, fading no matter how tightly he tried to grasp it close to his chest.

For all the world it almost felt like being back in high school again, desperately willing his eyes to stay open as the teacher droned on and on about material components even though everyone in class had an arcane focus. Just as he had back then, Jace was powerless to resist as his eyelids drooped and he finally dropped down into the long rest waiting for all adventurers in the end.

Pathetic.

End of the line. So where did that leave him? Caught between divine domains, having never pledged himself to any one divinity. The astral planes, the pits of hell, or even following the innate magic in his blood back to the feywilds of his ancestry?

End. The end. It was the end of him.

Is this all you are?

Was this his legacy? A young and powerful sorcerer, the potential of the universe sparkling at his fingertips, all the world open to him.

Spent the prime of his life getting heckled by fourteen-year-olds who only cared about learning how to cast fireball.

(I can't teach it to you, he always had to explain to the new ones, with their dead eyes and dumb gaping fish mouths. More of a coach. We're just spitballing back and forth what it might Feel Like to have the option of summoning a giant sphere of fire to raze down one's enemies.)

Is this what you're dying for? A handful of self-centered, idiotic, ungrateful brats?

Beyond the veil of death, every nerve in his body dulled to utter numbness, something in Jace's chest pulsed.

For a boss who'd fuck a flaming pigeon out on the bloodrush field before he considered giving you an ounce of respect?

In the darkness of the in between, caught in the steps before final death, the air turned hot and tacky. Blond hair curled limp against his forehead, drenched in sweat, heat clawing across his skin like a furnace trying to burrow its way back home.

The sort of heat that made it hard to think, hard to move, for fear that the slightest twitch would cut through the atmosphere and sear your skin straight from the bone.

Something crimson crackled through the darkness. A feverish crescendo crawling in every direction, hateful and ferocious in every shattering shower of red.

It didn't have to be the end. Not if he didn't let it be.

Get up.

And really, what had the goddamn gall to keep him here? What universe thought he would just roll over and stay down like a good little corpse?

He just had to. Reach out. Had to. Take it.

Get the fuck up, Stardiamond.

A fistful of rubies sparked and flared in Jace's palm, before he tilted his head back and poured them down his open maw.

On the material plane, Jace Stardiamond's eyes snapped open.

Jace thought he'd known what pain was. A lifetime of arcana, adventuring, of teaching highschoolers, he'd taken his fair share of hits over the years. Not like this. Nothing like this.

Jace thought he'd known pain, and he was a goddamn fool.

This

was

agony.

Writhing on the classroom floor, his back arched into an unnatural contortion of joints and limbs. The feral thing tore from Jace's throat could hardly even be called a scream, mangled as it was with a century's worth of rage buried in the name of a paper thin mask. It bubbled from his mouth as limbs thrashed about, eyes rolling back into his head with the anguish of it all.

"There you are."

A hulking fifteen foot shadow loomed over his twitching corpse, greedy eyes simply watching as Jace's fingers began scrambling across his own chest. A spellcaster's fingers, ordinarily so nimble and precise, nails once filed to a perfect smooth arch now ragged and bloodstained as they clawed through the layers of his own scarf and shirt.

He tore and mangled the flesh underneath until fingertips hit jagged gemstone.

"I knew you had it in you, somewhere under that bone deep smarmy front you put on."

Ruby splintered across Jace's skin, crystalized in his collapsed lung, sparkled in the lining of his throat.

"Bitterness, frustration, jealousy, hatred, judgement, call it what you want, but you've always been bursting at the seams with rage. Just waiting for the right person to come along and break the seal."

Flecks of ruby crusted to Jace's lips, pulled back to bare his teeth in a rabid snarl. The giant above only chuckled, the sound of his laughter like the grinding of stone when a whole mountain collapsed inwards.

"Why?" The word barely scraped free from his raw throat, lingering in the palpable heat clogged air.

A large hand gripped Jace's chin to force his gaze upwards, the bones in his jaw straining and cracking with the force of the gesture. Yet above him, Porter just clicked his tongue as if reprimanding a misguided child.

"Because, Stardiamond, you piss me off more than I can even begin to describe." His grin was too wide, too clean, a little too sharp at the edges. "That's holy, in its own sort of way."

#jaceporter #starbreaker #because let's be clear: I absolutely mean this in a gay way #we love a homoerotic horror with a side of workplace comedy #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #jace stardiamond #porter cliffbreaker #my writing

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asillylittleistik · 4 months

Note

do you have any headcanons for alpha karlach with omega tav? or fic ideas? I love her so much🤭

KARLACH MY BELOVEDDDDD

I have so many thoughts on this, I love Karlach so much

Also, you didn't specify if you wanted this to be SFW or not, so I'm gonna play it safe and keep it mostly clean, but if you ever want an NSFW fic or some headcanons, just send in a new request and I can write some for sure

Alpha Karlach With Omega Reader

Okay can I just say that you will never in your life be with someone who is both as lovingly gentle and violently protective as Karlach

I have a headcanon that, since Karlach was sent to Avernus at a fairly young age, and hasn't been out for very long at all, that you are her first relationship

She's heard all the horror stories from you and some other omegas about creepy alphas who only care about hooking up, and will take any opportunity or push any boundary to get what they want

And being one of those creepy alphas is the last thing Karlach wants

So she is so gentle with you, almost as if you were made of porcelain

She's so subservient to your every need that someone who didn't know better might assume you're the alpha

But she just cares about your well-being so much

On the other hand, though, she is extremely cautious that none of those creepy alphas get anywhere near you

If she sees someone checking you out, flirting a little bit, or god forbid trying to take you out anywhere, she's at your side in an instant

She usually doesn't even need to say much, her appearance alone is intimidating enough

A tall, muscular, pissed-off tiefling, covered in battle scars, carrying a great axe on her back, and literally on fire is usually enough to scare creeps off

But for those that don't get the hint, she isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty

And then she's immediately at your side again, cupping your face and asking if you're okay as if she doesn't have blood dripping off her knuckles

She just cares so much that you never feel objectified or pressured by anyone, especially her

When your first heat comes, she, respectfully, tries to stay as far away as possible

She doesn't want to take advantage of you in such a delicate state

It's not until one day, after a long day of adventuring, she comes back absolutely DEVASTATED to find her stuffed bear, Clive, is nowhere to be seen

It isn't until she makes her way over to your tent that she sees you've made a little nest in there of all the bedrolls and pillows you all have pillaged in your journey

And then she sees you, bare naked, dripping with sweat, and hugging onto Clive like it was your lifeline

And when her eyes meet yours, all you can say is "he smells like you."

You know she can't leave after that.

For a little while, there's this torturous little game you and Karlach have to play

You want to be around her, but just being in the same tent isn't enough. You want to touch her and feel her body all around yours

But Karlach on a normal day is too hot to touch, and horny Karlach? Yeah, she's nearly set the tent on fire a few times now

She makes peace with it, with not being able to touch you, as terrible as it is for both of you

But you guys find a few... workarounds...

But oh man, the day that Dammon fixes Karlach's engine

No amount of pulling the blankets over their ears could help anyone keep the noise out

It isn't until day 3 that Shadowheart finally gets fed up and casts a silence spell over your tent

But Karlach can't help it, it's what an entire life of not even being near an omega does to her

At the end of your heats, when your brains are a little less foggy, she's back to giving you everything you could ever need

Water? Food? Maybe a small healing spell to helping your aching body? She is an aftercare goddess

That's all she cares about, anyway. In her mind, her pleasure is always second to yours

After the tough hand you've been dealt in life, her one goal is to make you feel special and taken care of

And, for someone as new to being in a relationship as Karlach is, she's doing a pretty damn good job at it

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #do you have any idea how hard it is to find karlach gifs on here?#unbelievable #this site needs to simp harder

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sheeple · 4 months

Text

Miracles don't exist | 37: Heartbroken and vengeful

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Nothing really [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You crawl on your hands and feet out of the lake, spluttering and coughing up some of the nasty lake water. You wipe your face in an effort to get rid of the lake bits while you find your footing.

You cast a drying spell on your clothes as the Golden Trio pulls clean clothes out of Hermione's beaded handbag and discuss the visions Harry saw and what their next step is.

Suddenly, the trio turns to you and you halt like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes flicker from Harry to Hermione to Ron and back. "Sorry?"

"The next Horcrux is in Hogwarts."

You shake your head. "Snape's headmaster now. There is no way you can just waltz right in. And my cover is blown so I'm not much help either with sneaking you in."

Harry turns to Ron as he tugs down his shirt. "Uhm... well, we'll go to Hogsmeade, to Honeydukes. Take the secret passage in the cellar."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? The Dark Lord knows you're destroying Horcruxes. He knows which ones you've already managed to get rid of. Don't you think he has sent a horde of Death Eaters to police the streets?"

A chill runs down your spine as your head twitches to the side. Pain flashes through your neck and you bite down a groan, your hand shoots up to massage the sore spot. Hermione frowns as she watches you intently but chooses to stay silent.

By the looks of it, the trio has decided to go to Hogsmeade. You sigh. "I'll... I'll go to Sirius, alert the Order that you're on your way to Hogwarts."

Hermione jumps forward and engulfs you in a hug. You give her a small smile as you don't know if they survive this. With one last nod to the boys, you turn around and disapparate.

You stumble into the foyer of Grimmault Place, finding your footing as you catch yourself against the stair railing.

"Sirius?", you call out, pocketing your wand.

There's some noise coming from upstairs and when you look up, you see Sirius hanging over the railing. Once he recognises that it is you, he races down the stairs and halts just before you. His eyes rake over your face with a sorrowful look. He lays a hand on your cheek before engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug.

"Never EVER let me think you've died! You gave all of us quite the scare." He cups your face with tears in his eyes.

You sniff with a watery smile on your face. "Sorry, I'll try not to be dragged down the Malfoy cellar the next time."

The long-haired man before you gives you a look as he drags you into the kitchen. "First of all, you need a good meal. You look as thin as a sheet. Secondly, you gave me quite the scare young lady when Theodore ended up on my doorstep. Alone."

Casting your eyes down guiltily, you tug at the hem of one of your sleeves. "I've... I've heard he's out on a mission for the Order. In Europe."

Sirius' face softens. He takes your hands in his, making you look at him. "What you did was brave. I know how my cousin is and I wouldn't put it past her to murder him if he were there. To hurt you."

You do your best not to cry. You've cried way too much lately and you want to save your tears for when you really need it.

"How's Teddy?" Your voice sounds small.

"He... he believed You-Know-Who killed you. Begged Shacklebolt for a mission. To keep his mind busy, he said. But everybody knew he was heartbroken and vengeful."

Chewing slowly on your bottom lip, your eyes downcast. Does Teddy really think you are dead? The thought makes you sad. And sick. You lick your lips and take a step away from Sirius. "I need him to know I'm alive."

But Sirius shakes his head. "Shaklebolt has given us a strict no-contact order with Theodore. The Order is crumbling down anyways."

"So Shacklebolt sent Teddy on a suicide mission? You mean to tell me that my husband is out there somewhere and we can't contact him? Fuck that! Harry, Hermione, and Ron are on their way towards Hogwarts and they need every help they can get!"

You grab your wand and conjure your Patronus. "Find Teddy and tell him I'm safe and to come home", you say to the Hippogriff. The slivery creature bows its head before spreading its wings and flying away.

Sirius looks at you with his mouth agape. You raise your brows at him, a silent dare for him to question your actions.

"We have to collect what is left of the Order and send them to Hogwarts", you pocket your wand and run a hand over your hair, "The war ends today."

You stand next to Sirius as the Order makes its dramatic entrance into the Great Hall. Snape brandishes his wand but the students all dive away once McGonagall stands in front of Harry. She is the first to attack.

But the weird thing... Snape doesn't attack. He only casts defensive spells and lets the spells bounce off to the two Death Eaters behind him, rendering them unconscious.

A cheer echos through the Great Hall as Snape flees out of a window. But the cheerful mood is soon dampened by screams from every corner of the Great Hall.

"I know that many of you will want to fight", comes the whispering voice of the Dark Lord, and your head twitches involuntarily. "Some of you may even think that to fight is wise. But this is folly."

You make eye contact with Sirius to make sure you're not the only one who's hearing this.

"Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have one hour."

A student from Slytherin steps forward and points at Harry. Of course, it's Pansy. "What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!"

You pull your wand out of your coat and point it at the girl. "Shut your bitch ass mouth, Parkinson."

Professor McGonagall looks quite shocked at your foul mouth, and so does Pansy. Gaping like a fish on dry land.

With a deep huff, you march toward the professor. "If I may, Professor. A fight is coming and I don't think it's fair to have to fight one's parents. And it's not safe for the younger ones. Wouldn't it be wise to let the Slytherins and junior years take shelter in the dungeons?"

Professor McGonagall's eyes travel over the student body and she nods. "You are right, Miss...", she trails off, unsure what to call you.

"Nott."

"Right. Mrs Nott is right. Mr Filch, if you would, I would like you to escort the Slytherin's and junior years to the Slytherin common room."

Mr Flitch reluctantly agrees and leads the students towards the dungeons.

You quickly grab Blaise's sleeve and stop him and Lorenzo. "Please stay stationed at the door. Keep the kids safe." Both boys nod and Blaise gives your shoulder a squeeze. Good luck it says silently.

"I presume you have a reason for returning, Potter", says McGonagall when Harry approaches the two of you. "What is it that you need?"

"Time, Professor. As much as you can get me."

The professor nods. "Do what you have to do. I'll secure the castle."

Harry gives you a look and you follow after him.

"Potter", McGonagall's words stop the two of you, "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Professor. Hold the fort, Neville." And with that, he's off.

You pass by Sirius. "I'm going to help Harry. Promise me to keep yourself safe. Please keep an eye out for Teddy."

Sirius nods and gives you a tight hug. "Of course."

The castle is in chaos as students run from here to there. It's mostly last years helping the youngest children find their way to the dungeons and others readying for battle.

"Harry. Hermione and I have been thinking. It doesn't matter if we find a Horcrux."

"What do you mean?", asks Harry confused.

Hermione glances at you. "Unless we can destroy it."

"So, we were thinking..."

"Ron was thinking. It was Ron's idea. It's brilliant."

Oh, dear Salazar... you don't have time for this lovey-dovey stuff. And by the looks of it, neither does Harry.

"You destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with a basilisk fang, right? Me and Hermione know where we might find one."

An imaginary light bulb goes off above Harry. "Okay. Okay, but take this. That way you can find us when you get back." Harry presses some parchment in their hands before giving your arm a slight nudge, motioning you to hurry up the stairs after him.

"Where are you going?", you ask, rushing after him.

"Ravenclaw common room. We have to start somewhere! For the search for the diadem"

"So, the lost diadem of Ravenclaw is the next Horcrux? If I were the Dark Lord I would hide it somewhere in the castle where lost things are. You know, the lost diadem, it's in the name." You raise one eyebrow as you also wave a hand around, stating the obvious.

Harry gives you a surprised look. You cock your head to the side. Hasn't he really not thought about it?

"Okay. So... The Room of Requirement it is."

While climbing to the seventh floor, a sharp pain shoots through your head and you brace yourself against a wall. "They've done it", you whisper, looking at Harry. Harry shares the same look. He felt it too. "We have to hurry."

A loud explosion is heard in the distance before Death Eaters start flying around. You dodge a spell before sending it on to a passing-by smoke cloud. It hits Bullseye and the Death Eater lays petrified on the ground.

Finally, you and Harry reach the empty wall that houses the Room of Requirement. It's early quiet inside. Even the broken record has stopped playing.

"You take left, I take right. When we find something, we call out."

Harry nods in agreement and splits up from you. Your eyes scan frantically around. Between the stacks of old furniture and useless nicknacks, there is no sign of the diadem. But there is a faint high-pitched ringing. Somewhere in the distance.

You follow after the sound and when whispers prickle the back of your neck, you know you're close. Harry also seemed to pick up the ringing, as both of you end up at the same table.

Harry removes some ropes from the top of a wooden box. You chew on the inside of your cheek as he reaches out and slowly flips open the lid.

"Merlin's saggy balls, we found it", you whisper in amazement.

The blue jewel in the middle shines brightly. Almost too brightly for how dim the room is. Harry touches it, admiringly.

"Well, well. What brings you here, Potter?"

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