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a-kind-of-merry-war · 7 months

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A Jester's Token

HEY SO. I wrote a thing. Based on @oblivionsdream's Knight/Jester OCs, who are SUPER AMAZING, which you can find here.

Thank you for your wonderful art!! And also accidentally inspiring a jester obsession in me 🤡

No warnings, contains a little suggestiveness, 3.4k words 💖

The grounds were alive with activity. The King doted upon his sons, and now with his second eldest’s twentieth birthday only a scant few days away, the celebrations were in full swing.

The prince, as was his wont, had demanded a tournament to celebrate the day of his birth. The King, as always, had been unable to refuse. And the Knight was looking forward to a week of respite; of celebration and jousting and fun instead of training and war council meetings.

Typically, he tried to remain impassive and stoic with his fellow knights. It was what was expected of him as the King’s champion, after all, and besides: it added an edge to his demeanour that meant orders were obeyed. The other knights weren’t to know that beneath his shining, shuttered helm he was wondering if the stable cat had birthed her kittens yet.

Still he kept his head high as he strode across the grounds, heading towards the armoury where he had left his sword that morning to be honed and polished. Several other knights turned to glance at him as he passed: one, he noticed, standing immediately to attention as he did.

The deference was useful, he supposed, but he hoped it did not extend to the tournament itself. It would be a dull affair if everybody he encountered was afraid of the King’s champion knight.

As he approached the armoury, a familiar noise perked up his ears. He found his steps faltering, his sure stride suddenly broken.

Not everybody was afraid of him.

He turned just in time to see the grinning face of the Jester as he sauntered over, his motley - brand new for the tournament in festive greens and reds - lit up in the dazzling summer sunshine. His hair haloed from his head, sticking in yellow waves from beneath his cap’n’bells. His eyes - startlingly bright, one dark, one nearly gold - shone with excitement.

“Good morning, Sir!” he said cheerily, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Lovelier for you, the Knight didn’t say.

“It is indeed,” he said. “Perfect for a tournament.”

“Perfect for a party,” the Jester countered. “I called into the ale tent on the way here, have you seen how stocked it is? Forget the tournament, I fear our Lord means to drown us. Can you swim in that?” he pinged a fingernail against the Knight’s plate.

The Knight rolled his eyes, forgoing a response.

“Although,” the Jester continued merrily, “I must admit, these events always make me laugh.”

“Oh?”

“Come,” the Jester said, “Oh ho - here I am, the picture of virile manhood! Beware my powerful—” he gave a short, sharp thrust. “Lance.”

The Knight bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. “You have a filthy mind.”

“You should hear me talk about maypoles.”

“I would really rather not.”

“I can do some wonderful things with ribbons, you know.”

“Anything useful in a tournament?”

“Depends what you need,” the Jester said, catching him with a sidelong glance. “I’m very good with knots.”

The Knight swallowed, saying nothing.

“Well!” The Jester said, clearly unphased. “I am afraid I am wanted by— well, by everyone. Which makes it such a shame that I’d rather spend my morning following you around. Nevermind.” His smile twitched a little, before settling back into a grin. “Good luck, my Knight!”

And with that, he was off. The Knight watched him leave, swaying through the crowds with his typically fluid movement. While the Knight would be entering competitions, the Jester would be entertaining in a much different way: joking and turning somersaults and charming the King and his guests. He even had a role in the joust alongside the announcer, riling up the crowds and mocking the competitors.

With luck, the Knight would be able to watch him perform. He enjoyed watching the Jester show off, and he loved his jokes, not that he would ever allow the Jester himself to realise that. The first time they had met he’d been forced to remove himself lest he make an utter fool of himself, and since then the Jester had taken him as a challenge, when he wasn’t making a game of flirting with him.

With a sigh, and a final glance at the Jester’s departing figure, he walked on towards the armoury. He noticed Sir Rowan lingering just outside, standing beside Lady Felicity - one of the Queen’s Ladies in Waiting. Without thinking, he called out a greeting to his fellow knight.

As he approached, he realised far too late that what he thought was simply a polite conversation between knight and lady was something far more intimate. Sir Rowan’s head was tilted just so, Lady Felicity leaning in a little too close. Their hands, he realised, were linked.

Shit. But it was too late now; he had already hailed Sir Rowan and he couldn’t very well turn heel and run. Lady Felicity quickly snatched her hands away, her face mottling in a sweet, pink blush before giving him a slightly lopsided curtsey, bidding them both farewell and quickly rushing off.

As The Knight drew closer, he noticed a scrap of fabric clasped in Rowan’s hand. He pretended not to have seen it as Rowan quickly tucked it into his breastplate.

A favour, then. He hadn’t realised that Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity were courting; although most of their time spent together would have been at banquets and feasts, where the Knight’s attention was more often than not focused on their entertainment and very little else. It was terribly improper to ask Sir Rowan for more information. Even as his friend, he would not push for information too intimate to share; certainly not while Rowan and Lady Felicity were still in the first, tentative steps of the most delicate of dances.

He engaged Rowan in brief conversation, deeply aware of the moment he had managed to ruin. He wished him good luck - making him blush - then headed inside the armoury where he collected his sword.

He couldn't help but peer back as he left. Rowan, now alone, had taken the favour from his breastplate and was tugging it through his fingers. It appeared to be cream-coloured silk: a handkerchief or scarf, perhaps. Rowan's face had gone red.

Something tugged in the Knight's chest. It was a sweet, deeply romantic gesture. It would leave Rowan with no doubt at all about Lady Felicity’s intentions towards him. And, of course, it was furiously lucky: any man blessed with such a token would be sure to do well, especially from one they loved.

The tugging grew more urgent, joined by a leaden feeling in the Knights stomach. He would have no such token. Oh, he was sure that many members of the court would accept him should he attempt to woo them - courtly favours included - but it wasn't any of them he really wanted.

“I would rather spend my day following you around.”

The Knight’s face heated beneath the metal. His heart swelled. Whatever the Jester’s intentions towards him, his feelings were not the sort that spurred a man to give a love token. His were the feelings that spurred a quick fumble behind the stables - perhaps several quick fumbles, judging by the lewdness of the Jester’s tongue. It was no more than that.

Or, more likely, it was even less than that. The Knight was aware of the reputation he had carefully curated at court, and he knew that the Jester had taken him as a challenge. He was just another joke. The Jester had never even seen his face, hadn't seen the scars, didn't know the stories behind them.

He was just teasing.

The Knight tried to shake the thought from his head, fluttering the great plume that burst from the crown of his helm. Chasing such thoughts - be they of fumbles or fools - would get him unseated in the joust and begging for mercy in the duel.

He turned towards the stables, trudging down the muddy path. The earth had been turned by the sheer volume of guests and carts and horses, and was now a sucking, muddy mess.

There was an oddly metallic clink beneath his boot. He paused. He lifted his foot. In the centre of a perfect footprint was a mud-splattered, but unmistakably golden, bell.

There was only one person who wore bells like that.

The Knight picked it up without thinking, desperately wishing he had something to clean it with. He rubbed off as much muck as he could with a fingertip, watching as it glinted in the light. As he turned it in his hand - terribly small against his huge palm - it jingled merrily.

He swallowed and closed his fingers around it, squeezing it tight.

The stables would wait. As a high-ranking man, he had been given a private tent on the edge of the grounds - somewhere he could clean and rest without traipsing through the castle to his chambers. He headed there, pulling the flaps tight shut behind him before unfurling his hand.

The bell had left a neat little indent in his palm. A curving, teasing smile embedded into his skin.

He placed it reverently on the wooden table at the far side of the tent before shooting a final, nervous glance towards the entry. And then he removed his helm.

The air felt cool and good against his burning cheeks. He shook out his hair, tied into a low queue to keep it out of his face, and stared down at the bell. It felt as if it were the only object in the room; perhaps the world.

Mindlessly, he took the cloth he used to tend his sword from the chest beside the table and gently began to clean the little golden thing. Mud had even managed to get inside the bell, and he carefully cleaned away as much as he could until it was shining and jingling once more.

He rolled it in his palm. It felt hot, like a tiny lump of coal, like a nugget of forge-warmed iron.

The Knight thought of Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity.

He would need luck, after all. Skill he had in abundance, but luck? Luck was harder to judge; a tip of the scales that, at present, could fall either way.

Of course, traditionally, a token needed to be a gift. But many Knights - both in tournaments and in battle - found luck where they could snatch it. A sword that had never slipped from their grasp, a tunic worn during a lucky win, a shield taken to war that deflected a killing blow. Perhaps a bell - so small and yet so weighty - could be like those. It was luck, after all, that helped him find it when so many people had stepped over it.

He turned back to the chest and searched through it until he found what he was looking for; the spare ties he kept on hand in case his snapped during the tournament. He typically used them to fasten his gauntlets, and while it was thin the leather was tough and sturdy: perfect for what he needed. Carefully, he threaded the bell onto the strap, ensured it wouldn’t slip off and then twisted the strap around the hilt of his sword, securing it tight.

The Knight gave the sword an experimental shake. The bell jingled against the hilt. He didn’t bother to suppress his smile: it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. The noise set a thrill through him. He would be the first to admit that he was not a musical man, but the ringing of the little bell felt like an angelic chorus just for him.

Besides, he thought, as he sheathed the sword once more: if it didn’t bring him luck, the noise may distract an opponent long enough for him to land a good hit.

He took a few moments to gather himself, taking a long drink of water from the jug atop the table, wiping down his face, and re-tying his hair before donning his helm once more. He pulled on his gloves, too, and now with his hand now gripped tight around the hilt of his sword, he exited the tent.

Outside, the noise was growing more urgent as more people gathered to watch the show. Now buoyed by the token hanging from his sword, he strode with pride towards the centre of the grounds where he intended to take part in the first single-combat duel of the day. It was likely still a little early, but no doubt he wouldn’t be the only one keen to begin and could at least find someone to spar against to pass the time.

He was dodging around a lad from the kennels and a pack of exuberant dogs when he heard a shout from behind.

“Knight! My Knight!”

He hastily shoved his sword behind his back as he turned, watching the Jester bounce across the field towards him.

“I need your skills,” he said, as he slid smoothly to a halt beside him.

“Oh?” The Knight was glad for his helmet, now: the jester couldn’t see him blush.

“Have you seen a bell?” The Jester tugged at the frontmost horn of his cap, which was indeed bell-less. “I’m missing one.”

The Knight gripped his sword harder. He could feel the distinct shape of the bell through his gloves, praying it would not ring and give him away.

“No,” he said, his face so hot he was amazed his helm did not begin to steam, “I cannot say I have.”

“Oh.” The Jester gave him a crestfallen look that was so heartbreakingly sincere that for a moment, the Knight nearly relented. “I suppose it will turn up… or the King will fund me for another, I am sure.”

His eyes darted down, as if taking the Knight in for the first time. His expression turned dark. The Knight found himself standing a little straighter.

“And where are you off to, my chivalrous wonder? That’s—” he peered around the Knight’s back, “—an extremely long sword you have there.”

The Knight rolled his eyes, not that the Jester could see the gesture.

“You have realised,” he said, keeping his tone even, “where we are, yes?”

The Jester gave a dramatic twirl as if assessing his surroundings. “We are standing in the mud,” he grinned.

“Typically,” the Knight said, ignoring him, “A Knight takes part in a tournament. I intend to test my luck in the duel.”

“Luck?” The Jester said, “Not skill? Although—” he gave him another of those long looks, “—I suspect you have plenty of skill in swordplay.”

He gave the Knight a tight, cattish smile, his tongue wetting his lips as he waited for the Knight to respond. The Knight, once he had finally regained control of his lips, could only manage a single word.

“Quite.”

“Well,” the Jester grinned cockily. “I would surely love to see you in action. Lead on, good Sir Knight.”

The Jester looped his hand around his arm, gripping him tight. The Knight was utterly unable to resist, lost in a sudden moment of deep regret that he was so armoured, unable to feel that touch against his skin.

Arm in arm they headed across the grounds towards the ring. The Jester joked and chatted and flirted as they walked, commenting again on that marvellously large blade, but the Knight could barely hear him over the rush of his own spinning thoughts.

He kept his free hand gripped on the sword, over the bell. The Jester couldn’t know.

The Jester finally released him as they reached the ring. Even though the touch had been to the plate steel of his armour and not the skin beneath, the Knight still missed having him hanging from his arm.

“You better win,” he said, stepping back. “There are a dozen other things I could be doing right now, and I refuse to tie my lot to a man who cannot even win a duel for me.”

The Knight’s heart stuttered in his chest. For me. The Jester was watching him, expectantly. And then his eyes widened, as if remembering something.

“Of course!” He said, face splitting into a grin. “You need a token. As you said, to give you luck enough to win. Ah— here…” he reached up, and before the Knight could stop him pulled another bell from his hat. “What’s another bell?” he said with a shrug. “I was lopsided anyway. Here…”

He produced a silk ribbon as if from nowhere, quickly looped it through the bell, and tied it with swift, dexterous fingers to the Knight’s belt.

“There,” he said. “I told you I was good with knots. Now you’ll win.”

The Jester stretched up on the tip of his bell-topped toes, placed a hand to the Kight’s shoulder for balance, and flicked his helmet’s plume with a single, long finger.

“Good luck.”

And with no warning at all, he placed a kiss to the warm metal of the Knight’s helm. Beneath, the Knight felt as if he could no longer breathe, his heart launching a battle of its own.

“I…” he said, gathering himself. “Thank you.”

The Jester gave him another grin, trailing a finger across the spot where his lips had been moments before.

“You’re welcome.”

***

The Jester leaned casually against a stack of crates, watching the Knight perform with genuine interest. The interest, of course, had very little to do with the fight itself - he wanted him to win, sure, but the minutiae of the fight were nothing compared to the strength of his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, or the exceptional noises he made when he struck a particularly good hit.

He fiddled mindlessly with one of the horns of his cap as he watched the Knight take another decisive swing. A hint of gold glinted through the air as he did, catching the light like a comet.

The Jester grinned to himself. No wonder his Knight was being so stiff as they walked towards the ring. What a sneaky little secret; not the sort he had come to expect from him. It was amusing, and quite sweet, too. Anyone would be lucky to have the Knight be their champion, to have him take their token. But the one he had chosen - the one he had taken for himself - was little more than a minstrel’s bell.

He was glad he had stumbled upon the thought to give him a token himself. Now the Knight would know that he would have given him one, had he asked, and even better: now he had twice the luck.

The Knight swung around again, the bell jingling, harmonising with the one the Jester himself had tied to his hip.

Thrice the luck, the Jester thought, if you counted the kiss.

The Knight ducked, dodged and lunged. The Jester watched, lips quirked into a smile.

When the Knight won - a feat which did not surprise the Jester at all - he straightened up, set his shoulders, and looked towards him.

And then his helm snapped down, taking in the hilt of his sword and the bell hanging from it. The Jester was almost surprised that he couldn’t see the Knight blush through his helmet.

The Jester too glanced downwards to the hilt of the sword. He let his gaze linger there. Then he dragged his eyes up, up the Knight’s body, over his chest, to the place where he desperately wished he could properly see his eyes.

He heaved himself away from the crates and waved. The Knight sagged, only a little. A small moment of recognition and relief. A spark of understanding, shared between them.

But the Jester could not stand there all day, no matter how much he wanted to. He shot the Knight another grin - his best grin, saved just for him - blew him a kiss, and swayed away towards the ale tent.

#fanfic #writing #my writing #oblivionsdream #knight/jester #this is what happens when you write a book about a tournament #it gets stuck in your head #and then you cant write about anything else

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imaginesappho · 16 days

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She Is a Mess, but She Is a Masterpiece

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Summary: As if crushing on a Muggleborn wasn’t enough to slander your family name, having a crush on a female Muggleborn was infinitely worse. You’d tried so hard to squash the feelings down for the sake of your family, but when you see her crying on what was supposed to be her perfect night, you realized you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was her.

Note: I wrote this while horrendously sleep-deprived. Enjoy my gay delirium.

Masterlist

Growing up, you were taught that balls and formal events were a thing for only the most prestigious families. You couldn’t count how many you’d been forced to attend—how many hands you’d had to shake, how many fake smiles you’d pretended were real, how many listless tales you’d had to endure to help make a good impression.

You’d never liked them. The women were always so conceited and the men pompous, all having been born with a silver spoon in their mouth and contempt in their hearts. Not to mention the horrid gowns your mother would force you to wear or the company your father would threaten you to keep.

You were their perfect little porcelain doll. They played with you while they had company and then they shoved you back into the closet until the next time.

If only they knew…

The Yule Ball proved to be just as boring as you’d imagined. None of those ballroom lessons seemed to have stuck with your peers as they’d bumbled their way through the horrid music. Watching the champions take the first dance had been more exciting than your date. Some older Durmstrang boy named Stoyan—he was about as interesting as grinding up lacewing flies.

You were finally rid of him after he grew annoyed at your lack of engagement. He’d thrown a small fit about how you were lucky for him to have asked you and how it was only a pity date—you were quick to cast him aside and wish luck to the next girl who fell victim.

The long walk back to your dorm had never seemed so tempting. You itched to strip the dress from your body and replace it with your lounge pants, curl up next to the fire, and lose yourself in another world written in ink. No more socializing for the night.

Unfortunately your plan was thwarted the moment you rounded the corner for the staircase. Sat at the bottom was a Gryffindor you had come to know all too well. Her hair fell from its sleek updo like the tears tracking down her face. Thank Merlin for magic—her makeup surely would have been ruined otherwise.

You hesitated for a moment before approaching her.

“Those tears are wasted, you know.”

Hermione sniffed in surprise and lifted her head. She roughly wiped at her face as though to hide the evidence. Your name slipped from her lips with a suspicious lack of apprehension.

“What do you want?” Her voice, low in exhaustion, cracked. She’d had quite the night from the looks of it.

You followed up with, “Boys aren’t worth crying over. Especially not the bellends around here.”

Her glassy gaze lowered back down to her hands. She mumbled something. You assumed it was a request for you to leave her be. She probably expected the usual malice from the generational rivalry. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find it in your heart to live up to the stereotype.

“Look, Granger, whoever made you cry is not worth your tears.” And you wanted to find who did it. “Not to mention the depressing image you’ve painted of yourself,” you added.

Whoever caused those tears deserved what would come to him if she ever found out who it was. It was a pity for such a fair face to be streaked with despair. But even rimmed in red, those charming eyes captivated you.

Your parents would disown you…

You stuck your hand out. “Come with me.”

Hermione glanced from your proffered hand and up to your face. That apprehension crept onto her features as you’d expected. It usually wasn’t wise for a Gryffindor to go with a Slytherin of different blood.

You rolled your eyes before letting your mouth curve into a small smile—your first genuine one of the evening. “I don’t bite, Granger,” you said. “Unless you want me to, that is.”

It took the young witch a few minutes to trust you had no ill will towards her. The walk down to the kitchens was mostly silent save for the occasional couple enjoying each other’s company after the ball. Your finger tickled the pear on the painting, allowing you to slip inside once the entrance revealed itself.

She rubbed at her eyes again. “Why did you bring me here?”

In lieu of answering, you called for a house elf with whom you had come to adore greatly. Mila eagerly conjured up the hot cocoa and cookies you’d requested.

You nudged her mug and the plate towards her. “Eat,” you encouraged. “You’ll feel better.”

Hermione finally cracked a small smile at your words, like they’d stirred up a fond memory. She slowly took a sip of the drink, noticeably careful not to let the marshmallow stick to her upper lip.

You watched as the warmth started to take its effect.

“Mila makes the best cocoa here,” you commented lightly. “It’ll lift anyone’s spirits.”

She hummed and gingerly grabbed a cookie. Instead of eating it, though, she played with it between her fingers a second. Her eyes sought yours curiously.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Because you’re I hate seeing you cry.

“You’re a good person, Granger. You don’t deserve to feel the way you do.”

Because I want you to be happy.

Because I think I love you.

Hermione Granger had been on your radar since first year. You’d admired her intelligence and resilience, her courage and empathy. It was only last year when you’d looked at her and realized how beautiful she was. You were entranced with the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed and how bright she smiled when praised by a professor.

And tonight, in that periwinkle dress that hugged her slender frame, you realized just how much she’d blossomed.

You’d always been able to tamper down the festering feelings towards her. Their worlds weren’t meant to collide—you were a Slytherin from a noble line of Purebloods, and she was a Gryffindor with Muggle parents. But you could feel that nova collapsing the longer you spent in her company.

You didn’t care what your parents thought or how your peers would react. Hermione Granger was what you wanted, in whatever way she was willing to give, so long as she was in your life.

Rosy blotches colored her cheeks. She averted her gaze shyly, like she wasn’t used to such compliments. Maybe it was just she wasn’t used to them coming from someone like you.

“You know, Granger,” you continued when she didn’t say anything, “there’s always been something about you. Something that… that I can’t stay away from.”

Her eyes darted back to yours. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve admired you since our first year. At first I thought I was just jealous—I mean, you’ve the best grades in our year, and you weren’t even raised with magic.”

“And now…?”

“And now…” You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling your chest clench with something you weren’t incredibly familiar with. “And now I realize it was never the grades I wanted.”

You held her gaze to convey the deeper meaning behind your words. Her lips parted slightly, and you could see when her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly than before.

She swallowed. “Oh… I, well…” She chuckled quietly, biting down on her lip as she thought of how to respond. “I-I never realized…”

“No one else does, either,” you admitted. “I’ve tried to ignore it because of, well, who I am—what I am. But I don’t think I can anymore.

“When I saw you come down those stairs, all I could think was how you were the prettiest one in the room.” The words kept tumbling from your mouth of your own accord. It was a dam that had been unleashed, years of pent up secrets dying to finally be free. “Then I saw you crying, and all I wanted to do was hold you. I wanted to take that pain away. I wanted… Well, I wanted you.”

Hermione’s fingers curled into her fist nervously. “Wanted?” she whispered.

You leaned over and tucked some hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched as your palm then rested against her cheek. Your thumb stroked the soft skin, admiring the way it felt beneath your touch.

“Want,” you clarified softly. “I want you, Hermione. Whatever that means to you. Acquaintances, friends… something more…”

She looked down and, afraid you’d scared her off, you started to pull back. To your surprise, she reached up and laid her hand on yours, keeping her cheek pressed into your palm.

“I… I wasn’t crying over a boy.” Her quiet voice might have been missed if you weren’t so close to her. “I mean, Ron did upset me, but… I was crying because I wanted to talk to you and I couldn’t because…” She trailed off.

“Because why, darling?”

“Because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen, and I’m just… I’m me. I can’t compare to you.”

“Don’t compare yourself to anyone, Hermione.” You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but now you were mere inches away. If you just tilted your head… “Nobody can compete with you, love.”

She made a small noise in the back of her throat before her lips touched yours. They were soft, their pressure gentle and unsure, but it was the best thing you’d ever felt. It left you almost empty when she pulled back.

She smiled softly before running her fingers down the side of your face. “I… I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she confessed. “But… what are we going to tell people if they ask?”

“We can tell them whatever you want.” You grabbed her fingers before lacing them with yours. “But I know it would ruin Krum and Weasley,” you smirked.

“I don’t care about them. Not when I’m with you.”

“Then stay with me for as long as you’re happy—and I promise, sweetheart, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

#hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #slytherin x gryffindor #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #yule ball #triwizard tournament #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger fanfiction #emma watson #lesbian #wlw #wlw fanfic #gxg #imaginesappho

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gillanfryingpan · 1 year

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I didn’t get to finish these sketches in time for their Ink Tournament face off but have some more Empireverse x FTFO bc I think they would have a silly dynamic

Ink Tournament by nashdoestournaments

FTFO!Ink by Im_Sorry_Buddy

Empireverse!Ink by lunnar-chan

Ink!Sans by comyet

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savxgelxve · 3 months

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Moonlit Confessions 🌙

A Cedric Diggory x Fem!reader fic.

Hey guys! This is my first time ever writing a fic. I've been reading fanfics for almost 5 years now, but was either too lazy or didn't get the courage to post my work. Constructive criticism is appreciated but please don't be mean...it's my first time so it'll likely suck 😅 Do give suggestions on how I can improve<3 A huge thanks to @queer-n-here for helping me out with some of the dialogues and plot suggestions. Go check them out!!!

(The reader is a "Prewitt" which is one of the sacred 28 pureblood families. Much like Weasleys as they too don't care about their pureblood status.)

Warnings: none. This is just pure fluff ^w^

The moon was brighter then ever, as the soft wind blew playing with the locks of your hair. You stood by a large window of the library, waiting for him. But the serenity of the night sky had tranced you in it's beauty, so much so that you didn't even notice Cedric when he entered.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

You snapped out of your daze as you stepped back, startled.

“How long have you been here?” you asked with a surprised smile.

"Not long."

He replied with a smile, there was a faraway look in his eyes with a hint of excitement?....or was it mischief? but there was something about his expression you couldn't place your finger on.

"By the way, did you figure out the clue yet?" He asked.

"Not yet, that thing screams every time I open it. I'm surprised, it hasn't made me deaf yet." Your said, earning a chuckle from him.

Cedric had asked you for help with the golden egg he had got hold of in the first round of Triwizard tournament. He only trusted you with it. You and Cedric had known each other since you were practically babies. It was because both your parents were childhood friends as well.

"Then do we atleast have a lead?" He asked with an hopeful expression.

"Please don't tell me you owled that note saying, "Come to the library ASAP" just to show me a rock you found by the lake side again that was shaped like a pygmy puff." He teased.

"Oh shush, I did that when I was eleven! And the rock was cute."

"You haven't changed one bit, have you?" He shook his head chuckling.

You simply rolled your eyes with a small smile, "I do have a theory though."

Cedric crossed his arms as leaned against the wall with a curious expression, "Enlighten me, then."

"What if the scream was of the next creature you have to fight against? Just like the dragons?" You said walking towards a table which had two books you had picked out as you handed one to him. "We can try to figure out the possible creature you might have to fight against."

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." Cedric read the title out loud, "I feel like vicious would've been a better way to describe them." He added with an airy chuckle.

"Don't say that in front of someone who wants to be a magizoologist." You said with a playful glare.

"To you even an Erumpent is just as cute as a puppy." He replied with a teasing smile.

Cedric pulled out a chair for you and helped you get seated as he sat in front of you.

"Since when did you become such a gentleman?" You teased.

"Well, I can't help but channel my inner gentleman around you. Just trying to set the bar high, you know?" He replied with his classic smirk.

You raised an eyebrow, "Just around me? Are you sure you're allowed to say that with all your fangirls eavesdropping on our conversation?"

He loved this banter that they had. You were the only one on whom his charms wouldn't work and he took it as a challenge to change that.

"Well, it'll be easier to let them know I'm taken that way." He replied with a flirty smirk.

You rolled your eyes acting like it didn't bother you but your cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of pink. It was barely visible but didn't go unnoticed by Cedric that was what he needed, a signal that he does affect her.

He rested his head in his arms as he smiled sweetly at you. "You look cute when you blush like that~"

"You're not the first one who said that to me." You replied with a sassy smirk, though internally you had melted in a puddle of blushing mess.

Cedric though smiling, visibly tensed at that reply.

"Haha, I guess I'll have to try harder to come up with compliments that leave you speechless then. Challenge accepted, and I think it'll be an easy win for me as it's hard not to compliment someone as adorable as you, even if it's been said before." He replied with a wink.

"We'll see about that." You replied with a small smile. "But for now, let's focus on the task, shall we?"

Cedric nodded, "So, that scream is well terrifying to say the least...could it be a Banshee?" He said pointing at the text under the image.

"A Banshee is a female spirit in Irish folklore who heralds the death of a family member, usually by screaming, wailing, shrieking, or keening." You read out loud.

"Well I don't think so, I mean, whose death are we talking about here? There aren't any dementors here anymore. But we can't completely rule out the possibility as the Triwizard Tournament which was held in 1792, had one of the tasks involving catching a cockatrice. However, the beast went on a rampage and injured three of the judges, the Head of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. I read that in Hogwarts, A History." You added.

"Really? But don't you think that after this tragic incident the authorities would be more careful?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Hmm. You do have a point...so perhaps it's a siren?" You thought out loud.

"Maybe? I read somewhere that a sirens scream can deafen a man and transform a woman into one of them." Cedric replied.

The two of you searched the entire Magical Creatures section of the library for an hour, but there wasn't much of a lead. Finally, Cedric suggested to take a break to go get some fresh air.

You both walked towards your usual spot near the lake. The moonlight illuminated the crystal clear waters of the lake, casting shimmering reflections that danced upon the surface with an ethereal grace, as if the night itself had decided to paint upon the canvas of the water.

As you both sat on the shore, you saw a really cute rock. "Ced, look! this looks like a Fwooper"

He simply chuckled, "Are you sure you wanna become a magizoologist? You could become naturalist considering your never-ending pile of rock collection."

"Well I love cute rocks, but I love animals more. All the rocks I have collected look like some sort of animal." You replied.

Cedric nodded, "So we have the next Newt Scamander in making. I see." He replied with a smile.

"Do you have the golden egg with you right now?" He asked randomly.

"Yeah why?"

"I wanna see if there are any marks or symbols carved on it that can give us a clue? Or perhaps help us understand that scream in a way?" He replied.

"That's a good idea." You replied as you opened your side bag, as you rummaged through its contents. But it was a bit hard because of the extending charm you'd used on it. Finally giving up with a frustrated sigh you took out your wand.

"Accio, golden egg." You casted the spell making the egg fly out of your bag and landing on the ground with a thud which opened it.

A ear piercing scream filled up the quite night, as the egg vibrated from the sound and fell into the lake.

You stood their horrified your hands trying to shut your ears.

"Holy Merlin!" Cedric exclaimed as he took his shirt off and jumped into the lake.

Expecting to hear the screams he was surprised to hear a melodious voice instead.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this;

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

As he closed the egg and got out of the lake, he had an excited smile on his face which confused you.

"This things scream changes into a song underwater!" He replied with a grin.

Your eyes sparkled as you smiled, "It's Mermish! That means the next task has Merpeople involved. It's likely gonna be an underwater task!" You replied.

"We finally figured it out!" you said as you hugged him excitedly, but pulled away sheepishly when you realised that he was still drenched and half naked. You looked away embarassed and blushing heavily.

"Like what you see?" He teased.

"Just get dressed for Merlin's sake!" You replied, earning a chuckle from him.

The next few days were spent trying to figure out this what was the most valuable thing that the Merpeople would steal from him.

"What is it that you cherish the most, that you can't live without?" You asked.

"Uh...I don't know." The look that he gave you said otherwise though.

"Oh c'mon Ced! What is it?"

"You're asking the wrong question. Instead of what it should be who." He replied with a soft smile.

"What do you mean?... Who is it?" You asked confused.

"I would let you figure that out." He replied, chuckling at her obliviousness.

"Ced! please!"

"I've got Potions now, better get going before Snape gets all cranky." He replied with a smile. "Good luck with your little quest!" He added winking before he left.

You sighed as you hugged the books closer to your chest.

"Hey Y/N! I was just wondering if you're still up for the study session today?" Cho Chang asked startling you, making you drop your books clumsily.

"Oh shoot, I'm sorry I'm such a klutz." You apologized embarrassed as Cho helped you pick up your books.

"Don't be! I'm sorry I startled you." She replied with a smile.

That's when you noticed a book in her hand that you hadn't seen before. "What's it about?" you asked pointing at it.

"Oh this! It's a Japanese muggle comic, it's called a Manga."

"That explains why I haven't heard of it...so what's the plot for this one?"

"Girl! Have you been residing in a broom cupboard at the top of the Astronomy Tower? It's a period comic and it's literally so famous even the wizarding world knows about it! I've been obsessed with this, there's this really handsome guy who just confessed to his love interest! I'm so happy!!" Cho replied with an excited smile.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?” you read out loud. "How is this a love confession?" You asked confused.

"This phrase is a more poetic way of saying I love you. It's meant to express love indirectly, since in Japanese culture earlier it was considered rude to directly state your feelings or needs." Cho explained.

"Anyways I got to go now, don't forget about the study sessions! Also I have quite a collection of mangas if you want, you can borrow them. Muggle writers have really good imagination." She said as she waved you goodbye.

Suddenly everything clicked, as you were reminded of what Cedric said a few days ago. A soft blush formed on your cheeks.

"I guess...I figured it out, Ced." You mumbled to yourself with a smile.

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half-deadmagicperson · 15 days

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He flickered visible, and locked eyes with Lloyd.

Go, he mouthed. (Hey runner, Chapter 3)

So recently I discovered this fic hey runner by @ominousvibez (which is inspired by greenland by Cyclondo)

Somethings to note: THIS IS NOT SHIP ART (in the fic Danny is 15 and the ninjas are all adults), and I'm pretty sure Danny was in ghost form during this, but I didn't think of that until I was halfway done with the drawing.

And I absolutely love this crossover (which btw there aren't very many DP x Ninjago fics) because it combines two of my favorite shows. Anyways here's a moment from Chapter 3 of hey runner that I felt compelled to draw! I can't wait to see how the rest of the fic will continue!!

(which I just realized the fic updated while I was drafting this post)

#danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #fanart of a fanfic #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #tournament of elements #dp x ninjago #dp crossover #ninjago crossover #not ship art #my art

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character-of-all-time · 1 year

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ROUND 1: ATHENA (greek myth) VS Y/N L/N (one direction)

#athena #greek myth #greek mythology #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #tournament #now kill #h1

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snazzilystoopid · 9 months

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Hello there, fellow Ninjago fan....

I wonder, are you looking for Ninjago fics to read..?

WELL GOOD NEWS I'M HERE WITH A LIST OF AMAZING FICS FROM QUOTEV JUST FOR YOU!! <33

List is below heheh

Also just real quick: Some of these fics are not updated often/not updated anymore! These are all fem readers/ocs, but if they are gn or male I'll lyk. These are also catered to Cole lovers (ofc) but there are some other pretty good ones too!!

Dandelions~ Lloyd x Reader

https://www.quotev.com/story/15255742/dandelions-LloydG-x-reader

This is a reader insert, and I think is a gn reader if I recall. I haven't read it in a while, but I do remember really enjoying it! It's rarely updated, and has under 100 pages currently, but it's worth the read. Promise!

Element of Wishes~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/15032547/ELEMENT-OF-WISHES-LEGO-Ninjago

I LOVE THIS FIC SMM!! This is an OC fic, following the story of an elemental master of wishes, who also just so happens to be half-djinn! It currently has over 200 pages as well. You read through the events of Ninjago as normal, but also get to read interesting parts about the mc's own personal quest to find answers! SKYLOR ALSO PLAYS A BIG ROLE IN IT AND I LOVE THAT SM (Most of s1 has been skipped though). Cole is the current love interest, the author can sometimes leave updating for like 4 months lmao, but they have started updating regularly again! One of my all-time favourite fics! I'M CURRENTLY READING IT RN AND I LOVE ITTT

The Master of Wind~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/7985682/The-Master-of-Wind

I another one I haven't read for a bit, but let me tell you: I LOVED THIS BOOK WITH A BURNING PASSION OMG. Its also pretty long, with like 900 pages lol. I generally love the concept of a master of wind, more so because I love Morro, but anyways, this book is spectacular. The love interest is Lloyd, and its a bit of a slow burn, but its worth it. Sadly it hasn't been updated for 3 months now, but I am hopeful that the author will update it soon!

Just An Illusion~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/14405232/Just-an-Illusion

Another short-ish book with under 100 pages, but I really loved this one!! The fic begins at the Tournament of Elements, and I don't think there is a current love interest. But seriously the way I read and reread this book is acc insane 😭 The fic unfortunately has been left for 8 months as I think the author is taking a break, but I'm pretty confident that Just an Illusion will continue!

Stoneheart~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/14081498/Stoneheart-Ninjago-Masters-of-Spinjitzu

THIS BOOK WAS AMAZING. I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT. The fic follows the story of an OC, who isn't from Ninjago, and who ends up joining the Ninja. Another MASSIVE book with over 800 pages and chock-full with a bunch of amazing original characters, and you're in for a good ride, trust me! I don't think there is a definite love interest, but it does seem to be leaning towards a certain character hehe (and no its not Cole unfortunately). Its being updated regularly-ish and I promise you will NOT regret reading it!

The Infinite Series~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/14276031/Infinite-Serenity-INFINITE-SERIES-BOOK-1

Another fic I enjoyed, this tells the story of the reader who died and had been reincarnated into a show from their childhood, LEGO Ninjago (obviously lol). There are two books in the series, the first one is linked above and you should be able to find the second one from there. I don't remember if there was a love interest or not but I do remember that the mc's personal story is really cool and so so creative! Book 1 had around 400 words and book 2 has like 300, however it hasn't been updated in 7 months 💔 still worth the read!

The Last~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/10806407/The-Last-LEGO-Ninjago-Masters-of-Spinjitzu-X-Reader

THE LAST. I LOVED THE LAST SO MUCH OMG. IM JUST SO SAD IT HASN'T BEEN UPDATED SINCE 2021 😭💔. This book is a Reader insert, where the mc is the last of their species, and joins the Ninja team, though I don't remember if there was a love interest or not, you'll have to read to find out because I really don't remember haha. Though the book has just over 100 pages, there aren't many chapters, and I don't think it's past s1 yet. Its still a good read, however, and I think a lot of you guys would like it!

The Colour of Hope & The Race Against Time~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/15708101/Ninjago-The-Color-of-Hope

THIS FIC IS EPIC. ITS AMAZING. It follows the story of a girl who becomes a target for a mysterious gang, and ends up in the care and protection of none other than the Ninja! (The Colour of Hope takes place between Day of the Departed and s7). The love interest is Cole, and the writing as absolutely phenomenal! This is a series, and the first book is linked above. The next book has only recently been made, so I have the upmost confidence that it'll be regularly updated, since the first one was too! Book 1 had around 250 pages I think. I PROMISE. You will wanna read it.

The Indigo and Black Series~ OC(s)

https://www.quotev.com/story/11634295/Indigo-and-Black-Pilots-Rise-of-the-Snakes-and-Destiny-of-the-Green-Ninja

I ENJOYED THIS BOOK SO MUCH! This follows the tale of not 1, but 2 mcs who are both OCs! One is the master of Time, the other, the master of Forces + Shadows. A Three-part series with 3 books, and the love interests are Cole and Kai! (Sorry Kailor fans 😭) The last book was updated around 6 months ago, but I did some digging and turns out the authors are still working on the next book, so I hope it comes out soon!

Kiss Me Baby~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/14954138/Kiss-Me-Baby-Ninjago

Suprisingly, this is actually a fic based on the universe of the Ninjago Movie, and I really enjoyed it! The reader is a confident teen who joins Ninjago High, but is secretly the mystery person who managed to get Lord Garmadon into prison, putting a stop to all his attacks on Ninjago City. A short book with under 100 pages, but it is also going through a rewrite if I recall. No definite love interest, but there is an implied one (once again, *sigh* it isn't Cole). Also, just throwing it out there, I was awake at like 4am reading this 😭

The Truth~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/9767787/The-Truth

THIS BOOK WAS LEGENDARY. I REREAD IT ALL THE TIME OML I LOVED IT. This book is all about a girl who somehow knows every member of the Ninja, though they don't actually remember her themselves. It begins at the Tournament of Elements, and runs right up to March of the Oni, where it has stopped being updated for quite a few months now 💔. The love interest is Cole, and honestly can I just say, this book was written SO WELL. Like I wish I could write like that 😭😭

Aaaaand that is all! If I DID have to pick my top 3, it would be as follows:

1ST~The Truth

2ND~Element of Wishes

3RD~ The Colour of Hope & The Race Against Time

I personally think these ones were/are the most engaging and exciting! I'm not saying the others were bad though. You'll wanna read them all. Trust me.

I hope yall enjoy these fics! <33

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slaymybreathaway · 10 months

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Wasteland, Baby!

Neville Longbottom started every year at Hogwarts the same way, with a fresh set of quills and a chocolate frog. This year was no different than the others... well, except for the fact that over the summer he had come to a disastrous realisation. He was falling in love with Seamus Finnegan's twin sister.

Chapter List:

📼

[Prologue]

[Chapter One]

[Chapter Two]

[Chapter Three]

More coming soon....

Taglist (comment to be added): @bookhoe33 @whotfskai @josephineable @pursuedbyamemoryy @emmmeoo @gia999 @warrensluvr @h3ll0k1ttyl0v3r @emstar07 @the-sander-fander @carlslactationstation @the-deamus-kid @trickvsterpotter @regsg18 @pandabiene5115 @probablybleedscoffee @randomgurl2326 @kazunish @venom821 @fred-and-george-weasley-my-loves @localragamuffin

#neville longbottom fic #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom fluff #neville x reader #neville longbottom #neville #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter #goblet of fire #triwizard tournament #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #wasteland baby

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azu1as · 11 days

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dumb rotmhs fanfic idea where chung myung doesn't reincarnate and instead turns into a lost ghost on mount hua.

that is, until his spirit stumbles into yu iseol chasing after their lost plum blossoms technique that he begins to slowly regain his memories.

Got inspired by @dew-in-the-morning's tweet here!! You can also read the original fic thread :DD

»—————————–✄

yu iseol doesn't know who the one-armed stranger was. she had opted to ignore him when she first noticed his presence in the far distance upon arrival at the clearing. but he'd been observing her for almost two hours now, and it seemed as if he had no intentions to leave at all.

"come out." she tells the one-armed man, but frustratingly receives no response at all.

she makes a move towards him but he disappears within a blink.

a part of yu iseol becomes unsettled, but she decides to brush it off as nothing more than a one-off encounter.

she's quickly proven wrong.

the following night, she once again finds him in the same spot, facing her direction. it continues that way the next night until the next week. the man is consistently there and always leaves whenever yu iseol outwardly acknowledges his presence.

after almost two weeks of this occurring, yu iseol decides to stare just as intently at the man as he did at her sword.

she doesn't often feel conscious about how others perceived her, but something about the way the man's eyes visibly narrows when she swings or stabs her sword makes her every move feel like they were being scrutinized and dissected.

and that her results were unsatisfactory if the random clucks and tsks she hears off to the side whenever she overextends her swings were any indication.

the man's robes were clearly from mount hua. but she quickly realizes that what she initially thought were shadows on his garbs were actually dark blood stains.

then a sense of uneasiness washes over her when she notices that she could see the edges of a tree through him.

it seems that her nightly companion was some sort of supernatural entity.

she doesn't feel any true fear though because no amount of malice or resentment was ever turned her direction since she began seeing the man.

"who are you?" yu iseol finally asks.

but, as expected, the man disappears and she's left alone in the clearing.

%%%

"are there ghosts on mount hua?" yu iseol asks the sect leader much to his bemusement.

"perhaps." he replies to her after a beat passes. "what brought this on?"

yu iseol silently huffs at the admittedly lackluster reply, but responds politely, "i just saw something."

before she could turn away, the sect leader hums pensively and gently adds,

"maybe what you saw was the ghost of an ancestor watching over you."

clearly, it was intended to be an acknowledgement of her nightly sword training and visible efforts towards attaining mount hua's swordsmanship.

yu iseol, however, took the message quite differently.

that night, yu iseol lets out a breath and lowers her sword as she once again catches sight of the semi-translucent man observing her from behind a tree.

her attention zooms in on the bloodied embroidery of a plum blossom on his chest and the sword sheath strapped to his waist.

she steels herself as her eyes locks onto sharp, pink ones. she was certain that whoever this man had been, he was a strong swordsman with the way he held himself even in death.

and if the way he attentively observed her sword training was a potential indication....

"excuse me," yu iseol begins, fists clenched, "do you know how to make plum blossoms bloom?"

there was a long pause between them. for a moment, yu iseol worried that she was mistaken and that the spirit of this ancestor would disappear as he usually did.

but then the one-armed man steps forward for the first time into the clearing and replies by unsheathing his sword.

it glints against the moonlight despite its translucency and yu iseol knows that she couldn't miss the next moments no matter what.

the ghost of her ancestor holds it aloft in the air for a brief moment. And then he swings his sword into an arc.

in yu iseol's chest, the uncertain flicker of hope ignites into an unstoppable wildfire.

#ghost mentor pbss au #i think cm would ask yu iseol to train her other martial siblings #but i'm not sure if everyone would take her seriously yet.#i wanna say that yu iseol in this au participates in the southern edge sect-mount hua disciple tournament and stuns everyone HAHASKLDJSD #mount hua might still be poor in this au tho #yu iseol #chung myung #rotmhs #rotbb #return of mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #return of the blossoming blade fanfiction #dumb rotmhs fanfic ideas #tin writes #also i wrote this in one go on twt so sorry for any errors HAHASDLKJSD

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justafanbutcurious · 5 months

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Tagging so that this could reach to anyone (pls reblog)

@lonlylook @ghost-of-a-poet @moonysfavoritetoast @hrlx23 @marlenemckinnonslover @moonyandtoasts @theprongspotter @a-tad-bit-acearo @urfavsherlockholmeskinnie @evan-at-deaths-doorstep @evanislurking @apoetsworld @siriuslydying @why-the-heck-not

#atyd marauders #atyd #james potter #sirius black #ao3 fanfic #all the young dudes #art heist baby #crimson rivers #all right evans #the marauders #marauders fandom #marauders era #tournament poll #tumblr polls #atyd fandom #fandom #thoughts #pls reblog #pls pls pls

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lemonxlimee · 3 months

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Its always bugged me how Kai could just walk away perfectly fine after being half-corrupted by the staff of Elements. After something like that he should be at least a little torn up. But in the very next scene he was just talking and laughing with the other Ninja (Plus garm and nya) like nothing happened. Like. It's just so unbelievable and so much wasted potential. Not to mention how none of the other Ninja, with similar experiences, were affected by their traumas either. (Except maybe Zane.) We never see Lloyd troubled by what happened to him in season 5. We never see Jay or nya troubled by season 6. We never see them reacting realistically to traumas that very much should have affected them negatively. In this essay I will

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fortheloveof-sebastian · 1 year

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The One Who Has My Heart

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: The second task of the Triwizard Tournament is to recover what’s been taken from you…little do you know just how true that is.

Warnings: potential kidnapping?, kissing, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This request is for @scarydeadlavender Thank you for the prompt, I hope you enjoy it😁

Currently, you’re standing on a platform that’s been erected out of the lake. A few hundred feet below you, the surface of the lake roiled, dark and murky; it made sense why it had earned the nickname of the Black Lake. It wasn’t too difficult to imagine terrifying creatures dwelling within the unpredictable waters.

If the other two champions — a broad shouldered boy from Durmstrang and a wispy, waif-like girl from Beaxbatons — were nervous about this task, this didn’t show it. In fact, they stood on two adjacent platforms, leaning forward with intent.

Your eyes scan the crowd nervously.

Still no Sebastian. You can’t help but feel disappointed by his apparent absence. Where else could he be? He even told you the night before that he would be ready to congratulate you on another win, considering that he had been in detention during the first task. You had tried to assuage his guilt on missing out by insisting that it didn’t matter — and it didn’t, not really — but it had lifted your spirits to think that he might be watching today.

“ — have precisely an hour to recover what’s been taken from them.”

A whistle blows, and the other two champions waste no time diving into the water. You shake your heads, dislodging your worries of Sebastian. A roar of impatience and disbelief assails you from the Hogwarts student section, shouting at you to go and launching you into movement.

You take a deep breath and swan dive into the lake, the icy water engulfing you. The shock nearly immobiles you, until you open your eyes and notice the two other champions are already swimming away, leaving behind a trail of bubbles in their wake.

“I’m here.”

You turn, relieved. Staring back at you is a mermaid, more otherworldly than human, with hair that flows and waves in the current like the tangled black seaweed below you.

The mermaid encircles her arms around your neck and latches a necklace there. Instantly, the pressure of holding your breath releases, and the water clears significantly. The necklace granted you breathing and visibility abilities beneath the water, a special relic that the mermaid swore to bring to you — thanks to Ominis, of course.

Sebastian told you in confidence that his fellow Slytherin had struck up a friendship with one of the fishy beasts, and upon hearing about your latest task, you knew that it would be a great help. Ominis was incensed, understandably, that Sebastian had given away another one of his closely guarded secrets but eventually conceded. After all, he wanted Hogwarts to win the Triwizard Tournament as bad as anyone.

You and Ominis struck a deal with the mermaid, after Ominis vaguely declared that she owed him a favor.

Part of you didn’t believe she would come, most likely because you didn’t trust this mermaid. Her name was Kaya, and she had taken an instant liking to Sebastian as soon as she saw him. Too much of a liking for your taste.

“They said that I needed to recover what’s been taken from me,” you tell Kaya, recalling the only instruction you managed to catch.

The mermaid smiles knowingly. Or else, you think that she’s smiling. Her mouth, lined with razor sharp teeth, looks more cunning then helpful. “And what are you missing, human?”

You rack your brain. Was this task metaphorical? Did they secretly steal away with something from your dorm in the middle of the night?

Then, it strikes you — Sebastian. Sebastian was missing.

Your heart pounds. You knew he wouldn’t have missed for just any reason! But that means that he was here somewhere, in the lake.

“Sebastian,” you say aloud. “Where is he?”

“He’s safe,” the mermaid says.

You narrow your eyes. “Where. Is. He.”

“I helped you with your task,” the mermaid hauntily replies. “So I’ve just taken my payment.”

“If recovering Sebastian is my task, and you’ve taken him, then you have not helped me!” You shout. Red hot anger shoots through you. “You can’t do this. Bring me to Sebastian. Now.”

“Mr. Gaunt said that I only had to give you the mermaid relic,” Kaya says.

Your hands form into fists. “He also said that you have to help me win.” Resisting the urge to throttle the mermaid, you demand, “You have to take me to Sebastian or else your debt with Ominis — er, Mr. Gaunt — will not be repaid.”

Fae can not be trusted, you remember from your studies. But they also take favors and debts seriously, which you hope is enough to convince this magical creature to listen.

The mermaid studies you for a moment, and it’s as if you can feel your alotted time to complete the task slipping away. Finally, she sighs. “Fine, follow me. But keep up. I won’t go back for you.”

Easier said than done. It’s a battle to keep up with her — although she might’ve alleviated your need to breath air and your poor human vision, you aren’t nearly as fast as her. Her fishlike body cuts effortlessly through the seaweed, churning up sand and rocks in your face as you scramble after her. Fortunately for you, her supposed hiding place isn’t far from where you had dived into the lake from the platforms.

The mermaid points inside the mouth of an underwater cave. “He’s in there.”

You don’t have time to debate whether or not she’s telling the truth. At this point, your concern isn’t about the tournament but whether Sebastian is safe. Forcing your way into the cave, you navigate through the pitch darkness for a few feet before remembering that you have your wand. “Lumos,” you whisper.

Light illuminates your surroundings.

And there, at the end of the narrow tunnel, lays Sebastian. His eyes are closed, and if it wasn’t for the seaweed binding him, you would’ve assumed he was just asleep.

Frantically you dart forward and grab him.

“Depulso!” The spell propels you out of the cave. You cling to Sebastian, his body limply bumping next to yours as you swim for the surface.

The mermaid is nowhere to be found, but you prefer it that way. Cupping your hands, you fight your way to the surface, kicking your legs as fast as you can. Your muscles scream at you but you don’t stop until your bursting above the water, greeted by a chorus of cheers.

Durmstrung has already made it back.

You’re rescued by two older wizards who use their wands to carry you back up onto the platforms. Only then does Sebastian snap out of whatever trance he’s in — sputtering and heaving as he coughs up lake water.

“What’s going on?” He asks weakly.

Quickly you cut him free from his seaweed binding, and help him into a sitting position.

“How much do you know?”

Sebastian shakes his head, the motion sending out droplets of water onto your robes. His lashes are wet also, spiky, beads of water collecting on the ends and somehow, despite having literally just been dragged up from the bottom of a lake, he looks infuriatingly handsome.

“I—not much.” He frowns. “I remember leaving the common room and then…nothing.”

You quickly fill him in: about the task, the mermaid, and his temporary kidnapping. He listens attentively, his features morphing from confusion to shock, and then back to confusion.

“She kidnapped me?” He echoes. Sebastian leans back on his hands. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame her. I am rather good looking.”

You scowl at him. “I should’ve left you for mermaid chow.”

“But wait, if I was unconscious, then that means that I missed another one of your tasks,” he says, straightening. A look of guilt passes over his face.

“It’s not like you could really help it,” you say empathetically. “If you think about it, you’ve been kidnapped twice within the last twenty four hours. I suppose I can forgive you.”

He clasps your hand. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to —”

“And Durmstrang wins the second task!” The announcer booms. “One task Hogwarts, one task Durmstrang. Join us for the last task for the tiebreaker!”

Later that evening, you get an owl from Sebastian requesting your presence. You’ve been trying not to pity yourself for losing the task today, although it’s hard not to when your fellow Hogwarts students cast you accusatory glares. There’s no way you can refuse Sebastian, though — the cheeky bugger — so you heave yourself from beneath your covers and get dressed.

The Slytherin common room is mostly empty, besides a few students who are studying. You traipse inside uncertainly; Sebastian gave you little instructions, just to meet.

“Sebastian?” You call out.

Avoiding the pointed glares from a few of the students, you round one of the magnificent columns and spot a familiar backside. Sebastian’s turned away from you but whirls to face you when he senses your presence. Delight breaks out on his face.

He hastily fills the space between you in two long strides, then sweeps you into a passionate embrace. When his lips find yours, you’re taken aback by his fervent display of affection — it’s as if you’ve been apart for a dreadfully long time, and he can’t wait to reunite. You melt into the kiss. Sebastian’s hands slip behind your neck and around your waist, pulling you close. You’re busy relishing the moment when you suddenly hear the telltale sound of water being splashed.

You pull away from Sebastian just in time to see a large fin swish away from the view of the window looking out into the lake.

“Was that—?”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, grinning.

“Sebastian,” you scold him. The matching grin that unfurls on your face negates the scalding nature of your tone. “That’s so impolite.”

“What? I think it’s a fitting punishment for a potential kidnapper,” he says defensively.

“Are you going to kiss me in front of the entire Triwizard board then, too?”

Sebastian’s grin widens. “Only if you insist.”

“I can’t believe you,” you say, laughing in disbelief but allowing him to ensnare you in another toe curling kiss anyway.

He punctuates the kiss with several smaller ones, peppering them from the corners of your mouth to the top of your noise. “Why not? I can’t just go around letting psychotic, kidnapping mermaids think they have a chance with me. Everyone needs to know who really has my heart.”

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #harry potter #fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #triwizard tournament #HARRY DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE #mermaids

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