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ourgreatergood · 1 year

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I posted 545 times in 2022

That's 450 more posts than 2021!

20 posts created (4%)

525 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cinnamoncountess

@yumbledore

@folklorealbus

@love-arrogance-naivety

@lemon-drops-and-acid-pops

I tagged 82 of my posts in 2022

#grindeldore - 38 posts

#gellert grindelwald - 24 posts

#fb - 22 posts

#nicolas fantastic fanfiction - 21 posts

#hp - 18 posts

#albus dumbledore - 18 posts

#fantastic beasts - 15 posts

#tsod - 11 posts

#nicolas ordinary life - 9 posts

#tsod spoilers - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 67 characters

#i posted this on 4th of july 2019 and just stumbled across it again

My Top Posts in 2022:

I wrote a little something inspired by Heaven (from the OST of Secrets of Dumbledore) - of course it’s about Albus and Gellert.

It may contain some spoilers for Secrets of Dumbledore, though, so beware!

33 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

if you take angstier prompts: perhaps something with Dumbledore actually being seriously hurt after his battle with Credence/Aurelius, and Grindelwald having some weird angst session about it? (like he still was the one who sent him after Dumbledore with the intent of Dumbledore dying, but when it now becomes a real possibility, he realizes that he really doesnt want him dead?)

Thank you very much! So, I changed the set up a bit because it gave me a reason to explore a theory of mine concerning Gellert’s intentions with Credence, but I tried to capture the gist of Gellert’s angst session! Hope you enjoy! (Also yes, I tried to keep the technicalities of all the magical aspects very vague here bc it would’ve turned too long and honestly I have no idea how everything’s going to work out, either, don’t mind that.)

It was funny how Sight and reality could deviate. When he’d set up the boy to combat Albus he had done so with the conviction that Aurelius would never actually be able to harm Albus. Not clever, powerful Albus. Not Albus, who could shake the world with a flip of his wand. That was exactly why he’d set Credence up to do it.

Hurting Albus physically, magically was almost impossible. (Except for himself, Gellert knew.) But there were a million other ways to hurt a man and Gellert knew all of them and then some more for Albus, simply because he knew him so intimately.

Set up a boy he cares about to fight him. Force him to relive the moment they’d all lost control, yet Gellert was the one to be blamed for. Force him to hurt the boy. All that would do more damage to Albus than any spell ever could, he’d been sure of it.

Of course, he knew that Aurelius would never stand a chance against Albus, despite his vision. Admittedly, he had been curious about how it would play out. How Fate would fit in with the reality he was creating.

He had not expected this, though.

As always, he had forgotten about Albus’s stupid noble heart. Perhaps it was because he could not even imagine the kindness Albus was willing to show that he always underestimated this part of the equation, but once again it had literally blown up in his face.

How in Merlin’s name should he have anticipated that Albus was willing to die for that stupid boy? How could he have imagined that Albus would take the whole blow of the Obscurus and some strange magic Gellert had never seen before but that he was sure Albus had come up with, with the help of Scamander?

Now that his plan had worked out (it hadn’t since this had never really been his plan to begin with) and Fate was seeming to get her way, he realised that he’d been wrong once again. The fear he’d felt, when he’d had that vision was not because of his opponent. It was the cruel, cold fist of fear that was now squeezing his chest at the sight of Albus, pale and motionless and bleeding, lying on the ground, his friends and his brother rushing towards him.

Aurelius, perfectly fine, probably even better than ever before sat on the ground not far from them, dumbstruck at what had happened. It was Aberforth – of course it was – who dared to call out to him and ask if he was all right and Gellert was uncomfortably reminded of a similar afternoon, a lifetime ago it seemed, only that Albus had slipped his hand in his and asked him in a shaky whisper to please, stay and let me explain.

Albus wasn’t moving now. Theseus Scamander was steadily casting Renervate at his chest and Eulalie Hicks was cushioning his bleeding head on her cloak, but nothing happened.

Even from the other side of the plaza he’d felt Albus’s magic vibrating in the air all around them, before. It had been so distinctly familiar that it had almost driven him crazy, but now there was nothing. His own magic was searching, almost desperately, for that familiar trace, for the strings so intricately connected to his own but came up empty.

A feeling unknown to him, like a dark shadow surfacing from the depths of his being, began to rise in his body, constricting his lungs and throat, squeezing his chest, replacing his blood with ice water.

He was constantly surrounded by death these days, he’d told the members of alliance time and again that Albus was the greatest danger to their cause, when he’d been angry, he’d imagined hurting him, but now the prospect of Albus, the only person on this damn earth that it was really worth talking to, the only one, who’d ever been able to understand his mind, the only one, who’d ever known him – gone?

No, he’d never wanted this. He didn’t want this. That stubborn fool couldn’t leave him alone in this shameful world!

If he refused to see how brilliant they could be together for the rest of his damn life, fine, but he couldn’t leave him for good! Albus couldn’t just take his only connection away like that by dying.

He only noticed that his body had started shaking from the tension in his muscles, when Vinda touched his arm, muttering: “We should go.”

“No, wait,” he told her, still observing how Albus’s friends were trying to breathe life back into him. He knew they wouldn’t let him approach them and he couldn’t be seen helping Albus Dumbledore, but all his impulses were pushing him to stride over and pour out all his magic and remind Albus’s blood that it was still bound to earth, bound to life.

“The Aurors will be here soon,” Vinda said. And she was right. They needed to be gone soon, but he couldn’t as long as he wasn’t sure that Albus would live. He watched as Aurelius slowly, carefully stumbled over to the group of people surrounding Albus and for the second time that day he witnessed magic he had never seen before. (He wasn’t sure anyone had seen it before; they were definitely pushing the boundaries of known magical territory.)

He would never understand what it was with phoenixes and the Dumbledores but for a moment he did not care. There was blinding red and gold like a flame and then he could feel the familiar presence of Albus’s magic filling the plaza again, no matter how weak it seemed, and the next moment a dozen Aurors apparated all over the place.

Vinda’s eyes had already widened with fear, when he finally gave her permission to go, following with merely a last glance at Albus’s slowly moving form.

37 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

Promise

This is for @darkangelis, who requested: They meet in secret throughout the war because they can’t stay away from each other but Albus feels so guilty about it he starts to suffer from panic attacks. They normally happen after Gellert has left but one time Albus can’t stop one coming on while he’s still there. Gellert comforts him through it.

I absolutely LOVED writing this, it was very therapeutic and I do love making Albus suffer, so thank you very much for this! I hope you enjoy it!

TW panic attacks

Albus was wondering time and again how he got into all the comfortable hotel rooms in various countries on the continent and in the end he always came up with one simple answer: He wanted to.

He wanted to, even though he knew it was wrong. He wanted to, even though he knew that no decent man would’ve ever done it. He wanted to, even though he despised himself for it.

He never told anyone about it, naturally. Who could he tell? Nobody would understand and the shame he felt over it was so overwhelming that it sealed his lips tightly shut. Perhaps that was the reason for the increasingly severe sessions of discomfort that had started to follow those encounters with Gellert. (Perhaps discomfort was not quite right considering that his throat was so constricted he couldn’t breathe and his body was shaking so much he wasn’t even sure it was his own anymore.)

Back when he’d been eighteen and broken after that summer Nicolas had told him that speaking about it, no matter how hard or impossible it seemed, would relieve him. He’d been right. He’d poured it all out one night, fully expecting Nicolas to tell him what he already knew: that there was something wrong with him. But Nicolas had done no such thing. He’d been kind and understanding and encouraging and somehow that had saved him.

But he wasn’t eighteen anymore and none of this could be blamed on youthful carelessness, on accidents or ignorance. He knew perfectly well who Gellert was and he knew perfectly well what he was doing. Not even Nicolas could tell him there was no shame in that.

He forgot about all that, the moment Gellert kissed him. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, no matter how much he’d tried to suppress it, his heart was longing for it. He was suddenly reminded that his whole being wanted nothing more but to be with Gellert. He remembered everything he’d dreamed of as a boy, of Gellert by his side, of them growing old together. He certainly hadn’t imagined it like this, but if this was all that he would get, he had to take it, no matter how much it hurt him, no matter how wrong it was.

In the beginning a small part of him had hoped that perhaps, Gellert would change his mind, leave his path and return to him, but their irregular meetings continued for more than three decades now and if anything Gellert had become only more determined with his cause.

They weren’t meeting very often, they couldn’t afford it and Albus suspected that the long breaks were doing nothing for his emotional stability. It was always enough time to let him get over the dark pit of guilt and shame and contempt he fell into right after such an encounter. It was even enough time to let him forget how much it hurt every time Gellert left, every time he had to beat himself up afterwards. It was so much time that his heart started missing Gellert again, despite everything. So much time that, when he made a fascinating magical discovery, he instantly thought of sharing it with Gellert until the second passed and reality crept back in that he could not simply tell Gellert about it.

Sometimes this downward spiral was delayed when he heard especially atrocious rumors about what Gellert and his Alliance were doing and he was forcefully reminded of all the blood on Gellert’s hands but even that could not deter him, whenever he found himself faced with a chance encounter or one of Gellert’s subtle invitations. (It was the only dignity he could retain: He would never ask for a meeting, although lately he wasn’t sure anymore if it didn’t make him more pathetic that he came running each time Gellert called.)

Now, though, he found himself once again in a hotel room in a small French village near Versailles (of all places, of course!) with his robe on the floor and Gellert’s hands all over his body.

It was what he would’ve dreamed of at eighteen. A cozy room, a warm summer breeze toying with the curtains leading out to the balcony, a rich country. Foolishly, he’d not imagined a war, he’d not imagined the most powerful wand in the world to have drawn so much blood just the day before Gellert was running it up his leg, vanishing his undergarments.

Gellert’s teeth were grazing the crook of his neck and he felt the thrill of it running through his body, but it was oddly distant. Gellert’s hands and lips on his skin, which had been fire before, emptied his head and had him craving more were suddenly obscured by numbness. Before he knew what was happening, before he could try to do anything about it, his breath was coming in shallow gasps – not of the good kind -, he desperately tried to fill his lungs with oxygen but not air could reach it, his throat was constricted. He could feel his body shaking and tears escaping his eyes, running down his cheeks of their own volition.

“Albus?” He could hear Gellert’s voice, could even recognize the concern in it but he couldn’t speak. His body had forgotten how to obey him, how to do anything but shake with the uncontrollable feeling of dread and doom that was filling out his chest.

“Albus!” Gellert’s hand found his and he could squeeze it, so tightly he was almost worried he could hurt Gellert, but he couldn’t let go. Once his hand had closed around it, it refused any commands his hazy mind might make.

“It’s all right, Albus. Breathe. Slowly.”

Uncontrollable, embarrassing sobs were escaping his mouth as he desperately tried to do as Gellert told him. He tried to get a hold of his breathing again, tried to suck in air slowly.

“Albus. You’re safe, you’re all right. Breathe in and out. In and out.” Gellert was squeezing his hand back, while he was slowly succeeding in slowing down his breathing. “Hey, do you remember the first time we met? You had the tale of the three brothers memorized… There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight.”

“In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across,” his mind supplied automatically. He could feel the tears subside and his body stopped shaking. “However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water.” He could feel Gellert’s hand in his again, the room came into focus again and with it Gellert’s face. His body was listening to him again. He loosened the grip on Gellert’s hand and drew a few shaky but controlled breaths before he slowly sat up.

Gellert pulled the sheets over them and leaned back against the headrest of the bed, while Albus ran his hands over his face and tried to collect the rest of his sanity.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He felt drained like all energy had been plucked from his body. Here he was now, in a hotel room in France, naked with Europe’s most wanted man next to him and all he wanted was to be somewhere else, to be someone else. He could feel tears rising in his throat again and closed his eyes. It was embarrassing enough to have been so vulnerable in front of Gellert once today, he could not bear a second time. But Merlin, he was sure that this war, that Gellert, that his own despicable traitorous heart would break what he’d tried to put back together years ago.

“Don’t be. Did I do anything – ?” Gellert asked.

He took the hands from his face and shook his head and he almost had to laugh. “No.” He turned his head to look at Gellert, who was watching him curiously (he even imagined there was still a concerned spark in his eyes). “No, it was nothing you did. This just – happens sometimes.”

Of course, it was everything Gellert did outside of this room, outside of this bed. Of course, it was everything Albus didn’t do. It was everything he did do with Gellert. He leaned back against the headrest as well. They wouldn’t be doing a lot today, at least.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” Gellert said and he was right. When he’d been younger, there had been occasions when it had been hard to breathe, when he’d felt similar dread take over his body and he’d taken to recounting magical laws and literature in his head to get through it, but it had been controllable.

“No, that is a recent development,” he sighed.

“Why do you think that is?”

See the full post

40 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

if you take anon prompts, how about Gellert realizing his feelings for Albus? Perhaps he previously though he only wanted to manipulate Albus to make him stay, but suddenly he realizes that his feelings actually are real ones.

Thank you very much! I am taking anon prompts, always feel free to send them! :) this turned into a bit of a character study for Gellert, but I do hope you enjoy it!

It was fascinating. Albus was the most brilliant person in the world. His mind was sharp and precise like a razor blade, yet vast and creative and unconventional. He was the only person really worth talking to, if one was to ask Gellert. And he was so magnificently powerful, too. The way Albus did magic, felt magic was the most beautiful, intriguing spectacle Gellert had ever witnessed. Magic flowed through Albus like blood, he directed the matter around him effortlessly, he altered the earth with a flick of his wrist, he took the most ancient incantations and made them his own.

Albus was everything he had never dreamed to find. An equal in mind and might. Someone he’d never thought could even exist.

It was dazzling, thrilling, that he had chosen a path of fate that led him right to Albus. It was exactly what his plans had needed, without his knowing. What the world had needed.

And yet Albus was so different. He had a warm, noble heart and a kind soul, so much that Gellert sometimes wondered how a mind like his could bear the confinement of his virtue. For all his brooding and rightful bitterness that came with the duty of caring for his siblings, he sternly refused any talk of abandoning them. Albus was patient with even the most dimwitted of people (Gellert was sure that Aberforth was the only one to ever successfully push him into losing his temper.) and he tried to see light in even the darkest of people. Muggles had ripped his family apart and yet, he did not harbor any intimate rancour against them.

Gellert would have thought it foolish if it hadn’t been Albus. He could not say that he agreed with Albus’s gentleness, but he knew that he didn’t have to, anyway. Their plans remained the same and he was more than happy to let Albus care for the muggles in their scheme, while he cared for wizardkind. That’s what they did after all - complement each other. That was why they would change the world for the better, they would create a world for all of humanity. They bore that responsibility together. For The Greater Good, as Albus had so fittingly put it.

He had to admit it took him a few days longer than it usually did to notice the way Albus was looking at him. Not because Albus was very good at hiding it. He was not. Actually, for such a private person, for all the secrecy he’d lived with since he was a young child, for someone with such rhetoric skill - he was exceptionally bad at hiding his affection.

No, he merely had been so caught up in his own admiration for Albus that he hadn’t realized what the faint nervous flutter of Albus’s magic meant, whenever they were especially caught up in an intense debate. Or the lingering stares or the more frequent excuses to touch, however innocently. It was by accident (almost) that he discovered Albus was a lot more lenient with his more forceful suggestions, when they were touching while discussing them (even if it was only their knees brushing, or his arm on the headrest of Albus’s chair).

He respected Albus more than anybody else, so he was reluctant to use this advantage too often. And he was also aware that while Albus was even more willing than usual to see brightness in him, where he was sure was only dark, Albus was no fool and would not simply be played.

He had to admit it sent a very pleasant rush of power through him to have the single other most powerful wizard of their time at his fingertips, willing to be pushed, surrendering control to him. He was sure, Albus was inclined to do anything (almost anything) he would ask of him.

And yet, he had to wonder, why he was so reluctant to play those strings of Albus’s heart whenever the opportunity arose. He’d discovered that a simple kiss could make Albus forget about a lot of admonitions and yet he had rather spent an evening discussing the morales and necessities of the Imperius curse.

Later that night in bed, he examined his uncharacteristic hesitancy and all he could stumble upon were Albus’s crystal blue eyes that shone with so much warmth and affection that it sent an odd sensation right to his stomach.

He had never considered… any of his feelings, really. He got angry sometimes, furious, so much that hot rage was the only thing to fill his body and he had to act on his impulses then. He felt dread when he could feel a vision nearing and often even afterwards. He felt excitement and triumph, when he accomplished academic goals or succeeded in overcoming a particularly difficult problem. Rarely, he could even feel his pride, most prominently, when it had taken a blow.

But apart from that?

He knew that Albus had fallen in love with him, but he had never stopped to consider what it felt like to be loved by the only human he admired.

He thought of Albus’s warmth again. Of the twinkling of his eyes, of the tenderness with which his fingertips had traced the lines on his hand only yesterday. He thought of the pleasure of being so thoroughly understood that he sometimes felt like his mind was directly connected to Albus’s. He thought of the strange new desire that had overcome him to feel Albus’s lips on his the other day.

He had never felt like that for anyone.

It was an early evening, when he realized that, despite his certainty that love, which had been oustandingly absent from his life until then, was not for him - perhaps, Albus would show him yet another kind of magic.

They knew each other three weeks now, of which they had spent every possible second in each other’s company and had filled their absence with a steady flow of letters. He felt like he knew Albus inside out and the only topic he had ever expressed reluctance for was divination.

Yet, when Gellert collapsed in the middle of his room, in the middle of an animated discussion with a vision, that was so forceful he had no chance to control it in any way, Albus caught him.

He didn’t ask stupid questions. He didn’t try to stop him from shaking with dread after icy fear had been the dominant theme of his vision. Albus didn’t doubt him, not even for a second.

He held him until the shaking stopped and listened to what he’d seen with a very serious, very thoughtful expression.

“What do you think?” He asked, perhaps a little harshly and Albus blinked. He knew he’d dragged him out of a very complex thought process, but Gellert knew that Fate and Sight did not work systemically as he’d liked it and he didn’t need Albus trying to figure out what could not be figured out yet.

“I think that I want to be there, whenever this happens to you again. I hope I can be there,” Albus said, squeezing his hand, almost as if he was making a request.

Something shifted then. It wasn’t magic, at least he thought it wasn’t, but he noticed clearly that strings inside him vibrated and wove together that he hadn’t known before. Somehow his chest was filled with emotions that wanted to spill out of him and the only one that he could recognize was relief. He hadn’t even known he’d feared Albus’s rejection of this part of him he knew he would understand the least. But now that Albus was looking at him only with love and worry and a little bit of wonder, the overwhelming desire to kiss him, overcame him again.

Kiss him, drown in him, become one with him. He’d never felt the urge to be so close to someone before. He’d never felt his heart beating like that before. He’d never felt so complete before.

And he knew that he wanted to be with Albus for the rest of his life. He simply, purely wanted it for the sake of his beating heart.

47 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay, since I wrote that long rant about how I imagine Albus being neurodivergent (more specially autistic and suffering from anxiety) and how it’s always prevalent in my mind, whenever I write him, I’m also sharing it on here:

‪I think it’s especially apparent in his relationship with his siblings (apart from the whole world calling him “eccentric” multiple times), but I always imagine that Aberforth (who I imagine to be incredibly empathetic) is very good with ‬Ariana bc they’re just well neurotypical kids (until Ariana’s incident) and Albus is - well - not. Always caught up in books, which to me, read: hyperfixation, which other kids consider weird and which adults consider adorable up to a point where he seems to be almost anti social bc he is so caught up in his mind that he doesn’t play with the other kids (I magine Kendra to be very ambiguous here too, very proud of her ‘gifted child’ but also at dinner she’d say things like “don’t you have anything else to talk about but that fairy tale?”, “you should go and play with the other kids more often” and he’d say “yes mother”, but really he’d feel very much like an alien in his own home) and Aberforth is just accepting him the way he is, he’s the one, who punches other kids, if they make fun of his weird brother, he’s the one, who listens to Albus’s ramblings about the three brothers even though he doesn’t care about it

And then Ariana is attacked and everythings falls apart and Aberforth is so good with Ariana bc he is just good at accepting people the way they are and Albus is terrified bc even with healthy people he always seems to say the wrong stuff at the wrong time, how is he supposed to interact with Ariana, who seems to have a breakdown at the littlest thing?

And then he goes to school and he’s brilliant and admired and suddenly his gift and power outweighs his eccentricities and he is kind and friendly and polite enough that people like him and his friends are nice and also he’s learned that people don’t want to hear hour long deliberations about fairy tales or dragons or magic, no matter how fascinating he finds it, he has learned the technicalities of lying, of keeping secrets, of holding back, not only because Mother told him to, but also because not revealing his true self was usually the best option, bc no matter how nice people seemed, they still made him feel alien one way or another, wether that is because he talked a little too much about transfiguration, because he can’t stop his leg from bouncing bc he doesn’t even notice but other people do and they find it annoying or simply bc as much as they don’t understand him, he doesn’t get what they’re on about either with their parties and ever changing love interests and gossip, but he learns to seem interested

I also imagine him learning legilimency initially in hopes to understand the people around him more, to connect with his family more, but it ultimately ends up (mostly) with people being annoyed bc he’s looking into their heads

And Aberforth, obviously also very much burdened by the fate of the family and angry about pretty much everything bc what are they even doing? Does love his brother and he knows how he is, but he also needs his older brother and he really has zero nerves to spare and Ariana needs his care while Albus seems to be sufficiently great at school and he really doesn’t understand why it’s so difficult for Albus to be good at school but not good at home, when they all love him

And then Mother dies and Gellert arrives and Gellert is the first and only person, who doesn’t make him feel like an alien, he actually likes to hear Albus’s thoughts, even for hours on end on the same topic (the Hallows for one, Gellert can talk about just as much, so he doesn’t even feel guilty or like a burden, bc he can actually believe he is not too much for Gellert) and how incredible is that? And Gellert is understanding, Gellert knows how his mind works bc his is the same! And what he’s feeling for Gellert is amazing but also so overwhelming and he really cannot focus on his siblings’ needs, which are a whole different can of worms (here comes in anxiety bc how in the name of Merlin is he supposed to manage that? And change is hard anyway and he’d just planned this whole tour and it should have been him shining and all, how everyone has always predicted and he really doesn’t want to be responsible bc he also not good at it, but magic, that’s what he’s good at)

48 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

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