#like do you think he would have been a bit repulsed by it (/merlin)?

[adhd-merlin]

you know, if arthur had ever come to know that merlin considered letting a literal child die to save his life, however briefly, he would have been horrified. even if mordred did end up killing him. that's just not what arthur was about

#there's no point to this post #that's it. it's just something i've thought about #like do you think he would have been a bit repulsed by it (/merlin)? #or would he have felt some sympathy for merlin being put in that position #cause like. poisoning morgana is one thing #she had already started conspiring against them #but mordred was still an innocent boy #I MEAN #he still was innocent when merlin tried to get him killed in S5 #(REPEATEDLY) #arthur would not have liked that either. for sure #i would have liked to see arthur's reaction to that #merlin and mordred #merlin

[distantdarlings]

HARD EDGES // t. riddle

RATING: R / 1.6K WORDS

Tom Riddle x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - You decide to ask Tom to the Winter ball and he reacts a bit differently than you would have expected. (Romance, slight angst?)

+ WARNINGS - Implied smut, heavy kissing, heavy petting, light choking, Tom is kind of mean (but I mean, it’s Tom Riddle) language

+ MUSIC (listened to to while writing) -

ATE MY HEART - SEVEN XTC

---

Tom’s eyes found mine in a fiery rage. His lips pursed gently as he struggled with what to say. 

“Look, if you can’t just answer like a human being, I’m going—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, snatching your wrist from your side. He yanked you behind him and started abruptly down the hall. You glanced around nervously at the few people still scattered around the area. A few of their eyes found the two of you as Tom cut like a knife through the small crowd. You hid your face as best as you could, feeling your cheeks begin to warm. You knew they were probably just trying to see what in the world Tom Riddle was up to—it had nothing to do with you. But, Merlin, did it feel like it. 

He turned the nearest right corner sharply, away from all the prying eyes, and led you down to the end of the hall before swinging you in front of him. Your eyes found his only for a moment before he shoved you roughly into the room behind you. You nearly fell back as you stumbled into the second-floor male lavatory. His eyes glowed red with incomparable fury. 

His wand waved behind him in a quick spell and the door shut suddenly with a slam. The large lock on it dropped with a heavy clunk. Your heart rate quickened quite rapidly. Hopefully, this wasn’t the biggest mistake of your life and you were able to make it out of this alive. Not that Tom would kill you…You’re pretty sure anyway.

“I want you to repeat the question to me,” he demanded, “and don’t interrupt me while I’m thinking of a response.” You struggled not to roll your eyes. You shrugged out of your robes—it was getting a bit hot in here.

“All I wanted to know was if you wanted to be my date to the Winter ball. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable or anything but when you sat there gawking at me like I had two heads, I got a little pissed and—”

“Okay, okay, shut up,” he interrupted. His eyes dropped to the floor as he seemed to be figuring out an impossible equation in his head. His fingers ran through his curled hair as he glanced around in thought.

“It really doesn’t require that much—yes or no?” you spoke. He angrily glanced at you, silencing you with his eyes. You sighed loudly, hoping it would convince him to answer a little quicker. Why was it this difficult? If you were so repulsive, he had to lock you in a bathroom and ponder the meaning of the universe, to agree to go to a ball with you…well, then maybe you didn’t need to be here. You started towards the door.

“No!” he shouted, he pushed you back into your original spot. “Please just let me think.”

“What is there to think about?” your voice began to rise. “It’s a simple yes or no question, if you don’t want to go, just say no. I just thought since we’ve been paired together in potions and all, you might want to go as friends.”

“As friends?” he asked, almost as if getting reassurance. Your stomach dropped a little.

“Yes, as friends,” you responded, ignoring the knot in your throat. “We don’t have to be anything to go to a ball together.”

“Why would you ask me in the first place, though, surely you could’ve asked….erm,” he glanced around, thinking of someone to say. “Malfoy, or someone else. Don’t you have a bit of a thing for him?”

"Oh, you idiot—don't you see?" you breathed, the sound strangled in your throat. 

"What? See what?" he demanded, eyes wild with anger. You had never seen him this angry before. You’d never really seen him show anything outwardly except for the usual cool, confident façade he plastered on.

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, trying to find any soft edge in them at all, but being left empty. You sighed in defeat, letting your eyes flicker to the ground. 

"See what?" he demanded once more. He stepped closer to you and craned his neck to try and meet your eyes again. You scoffed and pushed him back. 

"I'm not going to make myself look like a fucking fool if you don't know what I'm talking about, Tom!" you turned from him, crossing your arms. You gathered your robes from the floor and began to walk towards the door.

"What on Earth are you talking about—I don't understand. If you would just tell me—" he cut himself off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. He pulled hard enough to wrench you to his chest. You pressed roughly to the hard material before backing away. 

"Sorry," he muttered. You shook your head.

"Don't apologize, Tom. I—I just wish I didn't have to explain it to you."

"Please," he breathed, not breaking eye contact. You were sure he was so self-centered, he likely thought it was something relating to his reputation or something of the like. A professor talking badly about him, one of his friends spreading a rumor about his family, something. 

You searched his eyes. The hard edges were all but gone and had been replaced with a cloud-like shape. His eyes bore so deeply into yours, that they might leave a scar. Your eyes flicked down to his lips briefly, wondering so desperately what they might taste like. Sure, he was a dick and made you so fucking mad, but when you thought of him, the thoughts were becoming less and less negative. 

You prayed that anything you said would come out slowly after being perfectly calculated, but that so rarely happened.

"Tom, I—" you breathed. His lips parted slightly. His eyes searched yours. His brows knitted together. The silence between the two of you was heavy and pressed down on your shoulders like an anvil.

"Please just—"

And you pushed yourself to your toes and pressed your lips to his. He tasted every bit of what you’d always imagined. His lips were rough with a musky flavor coated with the tang from the apple he'd just finished. His lack of movement was devastating.

Your gut clenched and you accepted defeat. You pulled back and looked at his shocked expression. Well, this had easily been the worst night of your life and you thought it might be best if you discussed moving schools with Headmaster Dippet first thing in the morning. You stifled a wince and looked down. That was your cue to go. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just going to—"

"No." He grabbed your arm, once more pulling you back to him. His lips found yours again. This time, he handled the movement, moving your lips just as he wanted and no other way. You wondered if he'd ever kissed anyone before. 

You shyly placed your hands on his collar where the first button sat wide open. Your fingertips gently brushed his throat. He made a low humming sound that echoed in his neck, vibrating your fingers. His fingers found their way to your hair, curling his fingers tightly into each strand. In any other situation, it might’ve hurt, but in this one, it did nothing but push you on. 

He tilted your head to the side with the strong grip against your scalp and effectively deepened the kiss. At this smoothened motion, you gasped against his mouth, to which he responded by walking you back into the stone walls and crushing you against them. His hands released your hair and quickly found your neck, holding your head staunchly in place while he painted your lips with his spit. As soon as you tried to rearrange your head’s placement, his thumbs came to rest on either side of your throat and began to press ever so gently. You sighed shakily, feeling the utter control he currently exerted over you. Your hands confidently moved forward to wrap themselves around his tight waist, feeling his hips stutter as you pulled them closer to you. His grip on your neck never once faltered. He pulled back.

“You think you can walk away from me?” he growled lowly, his lips capturing yours once more in a swift, rough bite. Blood pooled against your tongue. You stifled a whimper at the pain.

“You think you can just kiss me and then leave? That’s the end of it?” he spat, his fingers ever so slightly tightening around your neck. “No, that doesn’t fucking happen.”

Your lips parted weakly and you nodded fervently. Whatever it was he needed, wanted, said, you’d agree. You’d do anything to feel his lips on yours again. His eyes found your lips as your chin raised in an attempt to meet your mouths once again. A mocking smirk found its way onto his face. Dick. 

“You are mine,” his chest rumbled against yours. Your eyes never left his, though they fluttered in anxiety. One of his hands left your throat and grabbed one of yours still curled around his waist. A tight grip on your wrist loosened your hold against him. He directed your hand up to his face as he watched your eyes closely. His lips came down to brush against your fingertips with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t look away. 

“Say it,” he murmured against your fingers. 

“What?” you whispered. His grip around your wrist tightened to a bruising clamp. Your eyes watered.

“Say that you’re mine.”

“If I do, will you kiss me again?” you nervously joked, trying to hide a laugh at the look he gave you. He all but rolled his eyes as he slowly pressed his head into the crook of your neck. He ghosted his lips along the surface of your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tilted your head to give him more access to you, every part of you. He gently dragged his lips up to your ear where he pressed a chaste kiss just below it. You shuddered.

“If you say that you’re mine, I will take you in this bathroom right now.” 

Part Two

#harry potter #writing #fanfic #creative writing #fanfiction #harry potter smut #tom riddle #oneshot #christian coulson #slytherin #slytherin boys

[saveourskinship]

Truth and Lies

There are some lies we tell ourselves so often they become the truth. We revisit the memory of the truth and lie again and again until eventually all we are left with is the lie and the truth is buried in a sea of grey cells.

“Merlin but I hate Granger,” Draco said. Blaise wondered with how often he’d heard this, if he could coerce Draco giving him a Galleon every time it was uttered. 

Though even with the vast Malfoy vaults Blaise thought he’d be able to bankrupt them by graduation.

“Did you SEE what she did today?” his friend vibrated with rage. More mirage than man.

“When it comes to Granger I employ the monkey principle,” Blaise drawled.

“The what? Say something sensible, Zabini!” Draco spat. Blaise desperately wanted to point out Draco’s lack of that particular virtue, but his beleaguered and tattered soul could not be, in a word, arsed.

Instead, he placed his hands reverently first over his eyes, then his ears, then his mouth. 

When Draco sputtered at him for further explanation like a fish trying to give a lecture, he rolled his eyes and explained with all the weary put-uponness of Snape attempting to teach Longbottom something.

“See no, hear no, speak no evil,” he stoically blinked.

Draco’s eyes widened and he looked shocked, “She’s not... well, she’s not evil.”

“Isn’t she though?” Blaise sighed. 

How often the witch was mentioned with insults traipsing after her name from his pale, annoying friend it seemed like she should be. She was certainly a nuisance but only because her presence rendered Draco a convulsing, frothing mess. 

And she didn’t even seem to notice which was rather unsporting of her.

Blaise contemplated Granger outside the realm of Draco’s vitriol while his friend paced around flailing about the witch granting him a favour for Prefect rounds so he could still attend his Quidditch practices. 

“She’s making me a target for everyone else, it’s like some sort of performative art piece on my so-called exceptionalism,” he was raving nonsensically.

“Actually, she’s quite pretty,” Blaise concluded.

Draco made a sound like the wind had been knocked out of him. It was deeply unattractive.

“Blaise, that’s - that’s disgusting,” Draco recoiled and shuddered the words out like he was gagging on the thought.

“She is, though. I might ask her to hang out, she’s not with Weasley anymore right?”

“But Blaise, her hair and her teeth and just - ugh!” Draco screwed up his nose. 

“I admit, when we were younger her hair did tend to swamp her, but it suits her face now she’s grown. And thanks to you her teeth got fixed in fourth year,” he listed his head contemplatively towards the ceiling. “I’d go as far to say that Granger is hot now.”

“You did not just say that. Gross, Blaise, gross.”

Blaise just shrugged and let Draco flop into an armchair now that he’d tired himself out letting out the occasional repulsed scoff and glare in Blaise’s general direction.

The next morning Blaise sat next to Granger in Charms. He spoke to her and watched Draco nearly break out into a rash which was worth the perfunctory ‘Hello’ alone.

Turned out Granger had often summered in Florence, and they had a few of the same favourite spots in the city, including a particular gelateria near his palazzo. She was a fan of his mother’s music and all in all wasn’t horrible to talk to.

“I know about you and Ginny,” she whispered as they practiced wandless summoning charms.

He smirked at her, “Oh, yes? You must be terribly disappointed in her.”

She shook her head, “No, she seems very happy actually,” she gave him a genuine smile. “You should come to Hogsmeade with us next weekend. I think she’d like us to be friends.”

“Only if you convince her to come to Italy in July, she doesn’t think her family will approve. You can come, too, if you like,” he offered.

“I’m sure I can do that,” she winked at him, and Draco smacked himself in the face across the room when he failed to catch the book he was summoning.

Draco was feverish at lunch that day.

“What was with that perverted display in Charms, Zabini? It was utterly vile the way you two were looking at each other.”

“She asked me to go with her on the next Hogsmeade trip,” he replied easily. Casually. Like Draco wasn’t about to have a heart attack.

Sure enough, Draco slumped and paled like he’d lost all feeling down his left side.

“Oh, and she said she’d come to Italy with me in July,” he added, just to see if two sentences were enough to be the cause of death of his friend.

Almost. Draco went grey like he’d been embalmed and stiff with supposed rigor mortis. Sadly, he could still speak so it wasn’t the devastating mortal blow Blaise had hoped for.

“But Blaise, July is when I’m going to be in Italy with you, too,” his voice dead and hollow.

“Mm, well, I’ll need someone to entertain Granger while I spend time with my girlfriend so do you think once you’re away from school and Slytherin and your family you can be civil to her?” Blaise blandly asked, buttering a bread roll and briefly catching Ginny’s eye while Granger spoke to her. 

His witch gave him an adorable smile and blushed.

“Girlfriend?” Draco gaped. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”

“No, you don’t have a girlfriend,” Blaise corrected him. “I always have a girlfriend but I’m quite serious about this one.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

Blaise shrugged, “With a terribly unorthodox method, but it seems to be working.”

“And what would that be?” Draco scornfully retorted.

Blaise fixed him with a stare, one that went deep into his friend and tried to coax out that so very buried truth in him, “With kindness, obviously.”

Draco darted his eyes around trying to figure it out.

“The palazzo has a lovely pool,” Blaise mused. “I wonder how much Granger likes swimming.”

Draco attempted to drown himself in his pumpkin juice. Blaise pulled him back from the brink with a firm hand on his shoulder and a low word in his ear.

“Do you really hate her, mate?” directing a nod towards where Granger was prettily talking to Ginny and prettily blowing on a spoonful of soup and prettily tucking a curl behind her ear.

“Oh,” Draco said with a spasm of surprise. “Ohh.”

Blaise clapped him once and went back to eating. Things were silent for a bit.

“So, Italy in July, right?” Draco queried with an excited tremor.

See that’s the thing about truths, they’ll always be stronger than a lie. It just takes the right set of circumstances to have them bob right up to the surface again.

Blaise smiled, “Yeah,” he said watching his friend light up. “Maybe even August, too.”

#dramione #draco x hermione #blinny #blaise x ginny #ficlet #"the 'oh' factor

[maraudersftw]

“I was happier with you.” 🥺🥺

I know it’s taken me ages to get to this, but here’s the drabble you requested, lovely!

Snargaluff

“Evans!”

“—so just let me know if you need more help with the Cave Inimicum charm, alright?” Lily smiled at the fifth year Ravenclaw kindly, ignoring the prat yelling her name. “And send me an owl if you have any questions.”

“Sure. Thanks, Lily.”

“Evans, wait!”

“I think the Head Boy’s calling you,” said the Ravenclaw, her eyes flitting to look behind her with a strange smile.

“Off you go, Genevieve. You’ll be late for class.”

“Er, right. Thanks again.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Lily!” huffed the tall, 17-year-old git as he caught up to her, frowning sulkily, “I’ve been calling your name for ages! Trying to make me look absolutely insane, are you?”

“You don’t need my help with that.”

“Lily.”

“What is it, James?” she rolled her eyes, trying to look very much like the patient Head Girl she wasn’t at the moment. She turned to him with an exasperated expression, masking the way his bright hazel eyes were making butterflies erupt inside her stomach. “Did you want something?”

“I did actually. Some answers would be nice.”

“Answers?”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“That’s not a question.”

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

“What would be the point?” Lily asked, making her way towards the entrance hall. “You’d just say I was lying.”

James easily fell into step beside her, eyes wide and incredulous behind his glasses. “Well then? Why are you?”

“No reason.”

“Oh, because that’s a completely valid answer. Thank you for clearing it all right up. I’ll finally sleep in peace tonight.”

“That’s all I could’ve hoped for.”

“Lily,” he gritted his teeth, and she could hear the annoyance that was now evident in his tone. Good, she wanted to say. She was annoyed as well. “Stop trying to evade the question. What’s going on with you?”

“I’m fine, James. I’ve just been stressed.”

“Because of me?”

“No,” she sighed, but reconsidered, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“I’m just—you’re confusing me, James.”

“I am confusing you? I’m sorry, are we both having the same conversation?”

“Well, not right now! I meant before,” she snapped, throwing open the tall double doors as she stepped outside into the courtyard, the crisp, cool air whipping through her hair. James was right at her heels.

“Three years ago, then? I tend to forget the details with my wise years catching up to me.”

She wouldn’t smile no matter how much her lips wanted to turn up at the corners. He was a bloody charmer, but Lily had honed her resistance to him for over six years, even if she increasingly found it difficult to remember how.

“Shut up.”

“Is this about breakfast last week?”

She didn’t even remember breakfast last week. “What?”

“Because let me tell you, I tried to convince Sirius, but he was certain Regulus was being brainwashed by Mulciber. And he promised he’d only throw a harmless hex—”

“Oh, I don’t care about Mulciber, James! I’m sure he deserves all the hexes he gets anyway.”

“Ah,” He blinked, nodding as they came to a standstill against the large fountain, “nevermind then. What’s it about?”

Lily groaned loudly, and let him bear the full brunt of her glare. “If you really must know, it’s because of what happened in Potions class.”

“Potions?” He asked, a tiny little crease appearing between his dark brows, “that doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Good for you,” she said, trying to walk away.

“No, wait wait wait—just, give me a second, would you?” His fingers lightly brushed her palm, pulling back immediately as if shocked by the contact. Lily felt electricity zoom up her arm as well, so she couldn’t really blame him. “Fuck, I really can’t remember. You can curse me into oblivion, but at least let me know what I’ve done!”

He was throwing such a pitiful glance her way that Lily felt her resolve crumble like a cookie. Oh, she was turning into such a pathetic mess.

“You switched partners.”

“I—um,” James shut his gaping mouth, two pink spots appearing over his cheeks. “No?”

“Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“Telling you?”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, James,” Lily rolled her eyes again, feeling her own mortification catch up to her. “I know you did it, don’t bother denying now. You could’ve told me you didn’t want to work with me anymore. I didn’t think I repulsed you that much.”

“Hang on, what the fuck are you saying?” He looked flabbergasted, sputtering nonsensically for a few seconds before he found his voice again, “repulsed by you? Me? Repulsed?! I—you—no, Lily! Just—no.”

Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, and she bit her lip, holding in the smile that wanted to take over her whole face. “Then why did I see you scribbling a note to Sirius begging him to switch seats with you when Slughorn gave us our new assignment?”

“You saw that?! Were you reading over my shoulder?”

“Really?” she deadpanned, “that’s your main concern?”

“Well, I—I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, okay?” He threw his hands into the air, and Lily found it interesting to notice that his cheeks had gotten even redder, “you make me say and behave like a bloody idiot. We were using Snargaluffs that day and I knew—I knew I’d get distracted next to you. Didn’t really fancy having thorns sticking out of my fingers, or yours.”

Lily didn’t know what to say, so she just stared. James grew more restless by the second, words pouring out of his mouth in panic.

“I didn’t want you to hate me when I inevitably fucked up, so I asked Sirius to switch. He’s better at Potions than I am anyway—don’t tell him I said that, he’s a stupid wanker—so I thought he was the next best option since Remus was already partnered with Peter. Oh, Merlin, I hope he didn’t say anything weird to you, I specifically told him not to—”

“James, stop,” Lily said, a laugh finally bursting out of her as she dropped her hand onto his arm, “Sirius didn’t say anything weird.”

“No?”

“No!” She laughed again, before her eyes softened and she tilted her head to stare at him with a small smile, “it’s just that, well, I was happier with you.”

She heard the deep intake of his breath and waited for the entire three seconds that it took for him to reply.

“Even though Padfoot’s better at Potions?”

“Even then,” she grinned, stepping closer. “So, would you terribly mind returning back to your seat next lesson?”

His fingers were lightly resting on her waist now. “On one condition.”

Her eyes flicked to his lips, “what’s that, Potter?”

“That you don’t murder me in my sleep when I earn us a Troll.”

Lily didn’t know whether to smack her skull open against the stone, snog him senseless or laugh at his ridiculousness, so she found a middle ground and dropped her head on his chest with a light snigger, comforting herself with his pleasant warmth.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

#claudia writes #claudiawrites #snargaluff #hodgepodge #jily #jily fic #jily drabble #jily fluff #I know this was an angsty prompt #but my babiess #ao3 #james potter #lily evans #asks #claudia answers #prompts

[bloodypapercut]

despise (f.w. x reader)

this is my first fic! yayy! i hope all you angels enjoy. have a wonderful day or night and take care of your beautiful selves! :)

word count: 4.5k 

I despised Fred Weasley. Upon this discovery, I always questioned the veracity of my feelings towards him. It was never in my nature to be hateful, if anything I was known for being kind, caring, and helpful. Perhaps at times, I could be a little aloof, but that was simply due to the fact that my mind was always elsewhere. Never in my life had I felt so strongly about someone, better yet hate someone so fervently. Oftentimes I would feel guilty for scoffing at every remark he made, or rolling my eyes when he would flash his infamous coquettish smile. I abhorred him, it’s not like I made the decision to by my own volition, I couldn’t help it. I’m aware of how this sounds, a typical loathsome teenager who hated the boy who has attention, the boy who has people falling at his feet, the boy with a lot of friends and a close family. It wasn’t that, no not at all. I had my reasons.

--------

   I had never been more excited. I could barely keep the grin off my face as my legs swung back and forth, my heels hitting the seat. It was my first time being away from home, my desire to practice my independence as an 11-year-old was being fulfilled by the second. Looking out the window as the trees grew thicker and predictions of what the year could hold running through my mind a repulsive scent filled my cabin, thick smoke cloaked my vision and settled on my skin and robes. My violent coughs and labored breathing created a cacophony as the sound of hushed giggling and footsteps sounded from outside the door. My shaking hands made haste to dust off the soot, horrified of what others would think of me when I arrived at Hogwarts. A dirty and poor mudblood. I had expected the worst after hearing the stories my mother told me from working at the ministry, how could anyone disrespect someone I loved so dearly? The fear of being called out in such a hostile way and being looked down upon by potential friends caused my chest to tighten and sobs to violently rack my body. Not to mention the guilt I felt for getting my brand new robes dirty, especially knowing my mother worked extra shifts to get them.

   Stepping out of the Hogwarts express I was met with a tall man, guiding me along with other students to the boats. The soot hadn’t disappeared completely but I had gotten as much as I could off. The boat ride was pleasant. I had acquainted with a girl named Luna along the way, she was an idiosyncratic girl but I appreciated her kindness and her curious comments about sea creatures. I felt relieved that someone was talking to me without judging me based on my appearance, but the sadness I felt about my dirty robes still lingered over me.

   Looking up at the enchanted sky of the great hall I’ve never felt so enthralled by something. It was just as wonderful as my mom had described, I couldn’t wait to write to her all about it. But as I approached the front of the hall I felt dread put a weight around my ankles, I would have to stand up in front of everyone with my soiled robes. My uneasiness produced a scowl on my face and I could have sworn the familiar giggling was right behind me, but as I whipped my head around there was no one that seemed to be responsible for it.

“Now, when I call your names I will ask you to come forward, be seated on the stool, be sorted by the sorting hat, and after you will continue to your house table.”

I felt guilty that I wasn’t paying attention to my peers being sorted but my unease wracked at me, the ends of my sweater tangling between my fingers and the heel of my shoe being ground against the tiled floor.

“Y/N L/N”

Sighing I stepped forward, the giggles resonating once again making me stumble slightly. The lady at the front, whose name I had failed to remember, gave me a tight smile and waited for me to be seated. As the weight of the sorting hat pressed against my head I saw it. A trio of boys, 2 identical and one with dreads giggling, their soot covered hands coming up to their faces as they analyzed my robes. They must’ve felt my gaze because one of the twins and the boy with dreads stopped, but one continued, only laughing harder and looking right back at me. There, that was the moment I knew I would end up hating this ginger boy.

I had been so preoccupied with burning holes into his eyes that I had failed to recognize the incessant tapping on my shoulder and the dying cheers of the students sitting on a table at the far right of the room. Snapping my head towards the stern lady behind me. I hopped off the seat and rushed to the table that I assumed belonged to my house, which I didn’t know since I wasn’t listening. My face grew warm and my hands became sweaty with how tight my fists were clenched. I sat down quietly, never taking my eyes off that git.

That’s how he ruined my first highlight at Hogwarts.

--------

My second year was going just as I had planned. I had been practicing for Quidditch during the summer with my best mates Cho, Graham, and Julian (as Luna tried to befriend the gnomes, which didn’t end so pleasantly). I was convinced that I had improved greatly since my first chaotic flying lesson at Hogwarts. I was so sure of my skills, that I was unperturbed about trying out for my house team. That was a big mistake.

Going into compromising situations with nonchalance, knowing that the Weasley twins are in the same vicinity as you is a foolish, doltish mistake that anyone can be a victim to. I had been a victim to many of the playful endeavours during my first year and I thought that it was all over. Maybe they were mature now and knew when to stop. Thinking about it now makes me laugh, what a pretty lie I told myself.

It was the final cut for the team and I smiled as I gripped my broom, ignoring the splinter that found a place to reside in my thumb. The captain walked around smiling softly at all of us as she explained what the final tryout would entail. I clung to every word and as soon as she asked for a volunteer, my hand soared.

Tendrils of hair whipped around my face as I bolted to get the quaffle and shoot it into a hoop. I could hear words of praise from my friends on the ground and it only made me go a little faster, smiling as the quaffle passed by me. In an instant I spun my broom around, sending the ball flying to a hoop as the end struck it. I continued playing, doing tricks to show the captain I belonged on the team, I was so captured and focused that I didn’t notice the ball of fire that was in front of me, I also didn’t notice the screaming and shouts of warning from the ground but even when I did it was too late. Being faced with the fire ball it took me by surprise causing me to slip off my broom and fall a rough 20 feet from the sky.

The sound of a crack should have been the main sound that plagued my ears but it wasn’t, the pain radiating in my arm should have been enough for me to realize my arm could have been broken but it also wasn’t. At that moment I was verklempt because all I could hear was that notorious giggle and all I felt was a ferocious vindictive ball of anger swelling inside of me. In that moment I was certain that I deplored that Weasley boy.  

“L/N are you okay??”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine let me just get back on my broom and finish my try out. Please, I really wanna make the team.”

“No! Are you mental? You can't! You have to go to Madam Pomfrey now.”

“No please let me finish, I have to make the team.”

“You’re on the team kid, you’re talented but for the love of Merlin please go your arm looks horrible.”

--------

The stems of the flowers felt smooth in my hand and the soft petals grazed my nose as I inhaled its scent. I had never been given this much attention by someone and I had to admit it felt good. Getting mysterious notes everyday, serendipitous boxes of sweets on my bed and something to giggle about with my friends. The only thing that was covert was who it was coming from. I knew how they felt about me, I knew they were in all my classes and I knew that he was a Hufflepuff. I felt excited coming to my dorm, anticipating a note on my bedside table or a flower on my pillow. It all seemed a little too good to be true, and a part of me nagged, telling me it was just another Weasley prank.

After reading copious articles about wolfsbane, due to Snape’s unreasonable wrath, my head felt numb. I dragged my feet to reach my common room and after answering the riddle I stepped through the entrance ready to fling myself onto the couch.

“Hey.” It was James Abernathy, my seat partner in potions and herbology, and he was in all my other classes. His presence confused me, he wasn’t permitted into this common room, he was a Hufflepuff. Upon this realization, a ball of excitement spun in my body. Could it possibly be him? He was the epitome of my dream guy, but with my history in Hogwarts my gut told me that this was too good to be true.

“...hi? What would you need?”

“Actually can I speak to you outside?”

“Uh..yeah? Sure I guess.” He nodded curtly and walked towards to exit, letting me trail behind him. Thoughts flooded quickly, leaving me in anticipation for what he would possibly have to say to me. The idea of it being him excited me, but he had a bit of a reputation. Not that I thought he was incapable of holding interest in someone for longer than a week, it just seemed unlikely that it would be me of all people.

“It’s me.”He chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, the veins being accentuated as he tugged at the ends lightly.

I remained silent, awfully confused and in disbelief.

“You?” He nods quickly. My head was spinning and I couldn’t pinpoint how I felt or how to react. How could it be collected, witty, dallying and charming James Abertnathy, has taken an interest in me? It was hard to believe, it was so unlikely that I just knew it was too good to be true. Someone like me never goes with someone like James, that’s just how it is. Despite that my judgement was clouded by excitement, never had anything so romantic occurred in my life, the thought of having someone like James as a partner was a dream I thought I deserved to live out.

“Wow, that’s lovely um..”

“So what do you say to a day at Hogsmeade?” The echo of his footsteps sounded as he drew nearer to hold my limp hands in his, running his thumb over my knuckles.

“She says no, more into redheads you see.” My neck could have snapped with the velocity at which my head turned. Of course, of course he had to be just around the corner. Of course he had to be hiding behind a pillar, probably running away from Filch after terrorizing an innocent student or professor. How could I be so blind, so naive? I couldn’t have anything good, because he existed. Looking up I was met with the smile that seemed to frequent his face, he waved comically as James huffed and walked away. I couldn’t help the quiver of my lip as I watched him revel in the joy he got from terrorizing me.

“W-why would you do that?” I couldn’t meet his eyes, but I could feel them on me. I couldn’t stand to look at him because I knew if I did I'd slap him so hard that even the lines on my hands would be imprinted on his face for weeks.  

“Because he wanted 15 galleons and you wanted him, it would have never worked darling.” Fred was lying, I knew it. James was popular but not an absolute prick. He lost interest in people, he didn’t place bets on them. 

“What are you on about? He..he wouldn��t.”

“Oh but he would, 15 galleons is one hell of a price.” He chortled, patting my head. I had gotten used to his belittling comments and I usually remained stoic, but it hurt hearing I was worth nothing more than 15 galleons, and hearing him confirm that just hurt even more.

“What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much? Ever since I got here you’ve been nothing but hellish to me. I’ve done nothing to you, I’ve never even had a full conversation with you! Merlin, this is the most we’ve ever spoken so please, Fred,  just tell me what it is I’ve done so I can apologize and you can bloody stay away from me.” My breath hitched, my hands shook and I felt disappointed in myself for losing my composure.

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing at all it’s just-” His continuous patting on my head had stopped and his hand rested on my shoulder, which I shrugged off immediately upon realizing its presence.

“What? Just what, what could I have possibly done for me to deserve this. Do you know that I have never written to my mother about a single good thing that has happened to me here, and you know why? It’s because of you! You selfish git!”

“Listen the only reason I did those things was because I wanted your attention.”

“And why on earth would you want that?”

“Isn’t it obvious I fancy you, like a lot?” He threw his head back lightly as he crossed his arms. His nonchalance was palpable, and I just knew that he thought he had won, he thought that I would suddenly change my demeanor and drop to my knees thanking Merlin he liked me. Unfortunately for him, he was dead wrong, sure he was attractive, very in fact but his personality made him the most repulsive and hideous human I could ever be faced with.

“Oh? Really? You’re going to pull that card? So you’re telling me the reason you were an insufferable twat for 3 years, was because you were too much of a coward to divulge your feelings? I find that very hard to believe, you’re practically known to be brazen without fail so why?”

“Because you’re you! You’re known to be indifferent, how would I ever get you to feel strongly about me in any way when you disregard everyone who tries to get close to you?”

“Well uh I don't know?! Maybe have a conversation with me? Ask me about my day? You could have done literally anything other than cause affliction on me for years. You ruined some of the best possible moments of my life, and I’m not going to let some sodding excuse of you liking me disregard that!”

“Love, please just lis-”

“I am not your love and I will not listen! What on earth did I expect from you? How could I be so stupid?! You’re right, you’re you and I’m me. And I know that I would never do anything to merit the havoc I’ve had to endure and I know that you’re only treating me like rubbish because you’re a bored little boy, who doesn’t ever get enough attention so you have to terrorize innocent people to fulfill some fantasy of achievement and success. A fantasy I know you will never achieve because you care about nothing but ruining the lives of others.”

He looked back at me vacantly, and for the first time, I knew that I had gotten the upper hand. In a way it felt good, it was like the revenge I’d been craving for years. Yet the other half of me knew it was wrong, to berate someone so zealously without listening to their side. I knew I had gone overboard and I knew the guilt would consume me later, but the memories of reading the first letter my mom had owled me fled in. The overwhelming guilt I had felt for asking her for new robes after the soot wouldn’t get out, the embarrassment of nearly missing the team from falling off my broom due to a fireball, and the insecurity I currently felt, after hearing that I’m worth only 15 galleons prevented me from holding back. I felt too much and had too little time to process it.

“Please just-”

“Fred, do you not understand what I’m saying? You’ve never failed to humiliate me and you’ve regarded me with nothing but disdain and contempt, I never said anything because I wanted to be polite but you know what? You don't deserve my patience or manners. You’ve never listened to anyone but your thick obdurate skull, but you know what you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen well. I HATE YOU! Now leave me alone.” I stormed off muttering the answer to the riddle once more and rushed to my dorm shutting the door and curling under my blanket. I could hear the footsteps of my roommate apprehensively approaching me. Her hand resting on my arm.

“Fred?”

“Fred.”

“Git.”

I felt nothing but guilt as I fell asleep that night. Fred was still human and though he was horrible to me, I could understand why he did those things, though they weren’t justified and I would personally never do it. Ron had told me before about how his brother was, how he really was a good person. Someone driven, thoughtful, kind, and creative. How he was a great older brother, especially to Ginny. I realized how hurtful my words were, and I regretted them immensely. 

--------

Hermione and Ron never failed to put on a spectacle for everyone around them. Whether it be arguing about the definition of a word or how barbaric wizards chess is, they always disagreed. So it wasn’t a real surprise when I walked in the great hall for breakfast when I heard their strident bickering from halfway across the room. Walking closer to them, the words they threw at each other became distinguishable.

“‘Mione- no! Listen, you’re not listening I’m telling you he does he really does!!”

“You never fail to prove your fatuous way of thinking Ronald. I mean I would understand literally anyone else, I mean she’s all angel but not him. He’s absolutely horrible to her. Why would you think such a thing?” Deciding to be nosy and sit here instead of my house table I sat next to Harry, nudging his shoulder as he snickered.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He nodded, handed me a roll and pushed his cup of pumpkin juice towards me.

“Any idea what they’re on about?”

“An inkling.” He smirked.

“Not talking huh?”

“Mhmm. Just listen I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“He’s my brother, I know how he is around people he likes- loves. He’s an arse to us, yeah, it’s in his nature, but behind our backs he would do anything for us. He just doesn’t want us knowing.”

“Oh wow Ronald, you’re gonna compare his love for you to his ‘love’ for her? How ridiculous.”

“No-bloody hell no! Don’t twist my words, what I’m saying is I know what he’s trying to do. The amount of times he’s stood up for her behind her back, you’d think he’s her puppy. Do you know how many people he’s hexed and pranked for her. Remember he gave Flint boils for a month after he called her a mudblood after a match? Or when he beat up Mullard...and Nilesmith and- Merlin I could go on and on. C’mon, he’d never do that for someone he hated.”

“Okay fine maybe...since when did you care so much about the relationships of others?”

“She’s our best friend! And he’s a git that needs to be calmed down, but you know he never does so if we end this now it’ll be better for all of us.”

“Wow Ron, you’ve unlocked the capacity to sympathize with other humans.”

I knew it was about Fred, and I knew it was about me.

Swallowing the unchewed bite of bread in my mouth and gulping down the rest of Harry’s juice I rushed out of the great hall, not in the mood to be reminded of Fred. Not in the mood to process what I had just heard. 

--------

The Triwizard Tournament. A time for friendship, unity and excitement. Ever since the Beauxbaton girls and Durmstrang boys came to Hogwarts the energy had been different. Something promising lingered in the air. Things truly felt different this year, and I’m sure they would be. There was so much to look forward to. New friends, the tournament itself and the Yule Ball. My excitement and joy for the new school year couldn’t be smothered, even by the fact that I had detention every evening for 2 weeks. I suppose reading in the restricted section after hours wasn’t the wisest thing, especially considering it wasn’t my first time getting caught. So here I was, using a brush no bigger than my pinky to polish cauldrons, the bristles getting thick and grimy from the remaining ingredients left in the dents of the cast iron. Humming to myself I let my thoughts wander to how exhilarating the ball will be, how fun it will be to dance with all of my friends, how pleasant it will be dressed up. Nothing could possibly spoil that not even Fred Weasley, I wouldn’t allow it.

   It had been at least an hour, my hands were cramped and I was anticipating the completion of my 30 minutes left until I could rush to my dorm. I had finished cleaning and now I was left sitting here, vacantly twirling the brush with my fingers. The minutes couldn’t possibly go slower but as I heard the offbeat footsteps that I had grown accustomed to looking out for I knew that my night was going to be much longer than anticipated. Once I heard them I knew to evacuate, but being stuck in the trophy room I had no choice but to stay, Snape’s unreasonable derision wasn’t worth the fuss. The tiny brush I was forced to clean threatened to snap as my grip tightened. When the footsteps came to a halt, the unease in the room multiplied by 5. Without a word, there was the sound of shuffling, a drawer being opened and a brush being grabbed. It took 10 dreadful minutes for him to finally speak. As soon as the first syllable dripped from his mouth I couldn’t hold back a sigh, of relief or apprehension, I’m not sure.

“So what color are you wearing to the ball?”

“Sod off Weasley.” I grumbled, straightening my back. Another 10 minutes of silence followed.

“I’m sorry...I know I’ve been a foul, detestable and painfully foolish ass. I know that whatever I do it will never be enough to prove that I never had any bad intent behind my actions. I know you think I’m a no-good inconsiderate twat who doesn’t care about anyone, that I’m bound to fail and I deserve that. The things I’ve done to you are absolutely horrible. But Y/N please, please believe me, I never did any of that to harm you. Just please give me one chance, just one and I swear if I mess it up I will leave you alone forever.” I barely understood a word he said, it was so rapid but I clung onto everyone as best as I could.

“Why should I?”

“It’s selfish, to ask for so much after all I’ve done but I know that you’re the most intelligent, kind, resilient and beautiful person I’ve ever encountered. And my feelings towards you aren’t enough to ever justify what I’ve done. I know that I have ruined every year of your time here, but please please please give me one chance to make the rest of your years remarkable. To let you live out the highlights you deserve, so you can write to your mother about how much fun you had going to hogsmeade, or how amazing the Yule Ball was, or-”

“You’re asking me to the ball?”

“If you’ll have me.” My breath hitched and I let my brush drop, and for the first time since that night I had divulged my hatred for him, I looked him in the eye as I stepped closer. I remained silent and did nothing but look at him, every twitch of his eye, every rise and fall of his chest, I had to see it, I had to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate game that he wanted me to lose at. It must’ve been at least 5 minutes because  his face dropped and his chest deflated,  he turned to leave but before he could I ran in front of him. Nodding my head yes, I held his face, running my thumb over his freckled cheek.

“This is for Flint.” I whispered as I slowly neared his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead after brushing his hair to the side. His arm wrapped around my waist.

“Mullard.” Another to each of his temples.

“Nilesmith.” The tip of his nose.

“And every other person you stood up against for me, even after everything I said to you and even though I never knew about any of it.” The corner of his mouth. His eyelashes flutter against my cheek.

“And this is for taking me to the ball.” I looked into his eyes, searching for confirmation that it was alright to continue, he squeezed my wrist in confirmation. It was warm and sweet, safe and pure. It was filled with passion, all the things we have yet to admit to the other was translated into this moment. I wanted him to feel the admiration I had for his confidence to stand up for the ones he loved to whoever defied them, every freckle on his face, every laugh that would emerge from the back of his throat, the calluses on his hands, the determination in his heart, the respect and love he had for everyone, hidden behind all of his playful antics. We pulled apart, laughing softly and refusing to let go of each other. Our foreheads pressed together and we hugged tightly, our arms refusing to release the other. I had never felt so warm, so elated, so appreciated. It was odd, especially coming from him, but I accepted it. I had never accepted any feelings towards Fred that were positive, but now I let them in freely without shame or denial.

“I can’t believe I used to despise you.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #harry potter

[kashimos-hajime]

“it’s because i’m so attractive isn’t it?” “i say this. and i cannot stress this enough. i find you completely repulsive.” With James Potter or Sirius Black whdoqodjqid ✨

KINGS!!! i love this hehehe and @xxlovingfandomsxx because you requested the same thing :)

note: with a ravenclaw reader and sirius black :^) this makes me want to write my hp fanfic again LMAOO

“It’s because I’m so attractive isn’t it?” “I say this, and I cannot stress this enough, I find you completely repulsive.”

Walking into Transfiguration, you send a weary smile to Emmeline and Dorcas as you sit down a table away from them.

To say last night was an absolutely agonizing headache would be an understatement. Losing the chance at the Quidditch cup after a bare miss and a terrible foul resulted in most of the older Ravenclaws mulling over firewhiskey to curb the pain. It’s your sixth year, you’re a Quidditch Captain no less, and still, you can’t even manage to win a fight for a bloody cobbing foul. 

You can still see that smarmy git’s nasty smirk.

You, the one who was on the receiving end of the act, have been given a wide berth all morning. Your arm still aches from where a bludger had slammed into it after the prick on the Hufflepuff’s elbowed you in the ribs—not to mention said ribs still a bit bruised from how excessive he had been.

Like, if you’re going to commit a foul, at least commit it in the least obvious way possible. Merlin, your ribs are only proof that the foul happened.

Nevertheless, what’s done is done.

Suddenly, a boy drops down beside you and you don’t even have to look twice to know it’s the one quarter of the infamous Marauders.

“Black.”

“Brains.” You don’t even scowl at the nickname anymore as you adjust your blue striped tie and prepare yourself for class.

“You’re remarkably early for once.”

“And you left the Hospital Wing early,” he shoots back. You send him a raised eyebrow. Same charcoal grey eyes, shaggy hair, handsome face, same knowing look. Not a thing seems to escape any of the Marauders. “I heard you partied last night.”

“A right pity party,” you agree.

“And I wasn’t invited.”

“You and I share one thing in common, Sirius: we both absolutely loathe you. I wouldn’t have invited you even if you were available,” you tell him, pulling out your homework next. Black’s eyes flitter to the parchment for a moment, and you debate whether or not he’ll ask to copy before deciding that he doesn’t care enough to do so. Either that, or he’s already copied off Remus. You sigh, grabbing your quills. “What do you want?” you add pointedly. “You’re sitting in Stebbins’ seat.”

“Well, he isn’t here, is he?” 

This time, you do scowl and Sirius breaks into a small smile as he leans forward onto the desk, watching as you continue to prepare for class, slamming your textbook onto the desk with more force than was probably necessary. Merlin, your arm hurts.

“I wanted to offer my condolences. That foul was bullshit, I promise you.” You know, but still, it sounds nice knowing everyone else knew. You offer a genuine, half-hearted smile but it disappears soon enough, your terrible mood returning just as quickly as it left. It’s silent for a moment or two before: “That’s the first time you’ve ever really smiled at me this year, you know?”

“I don’t keep count.”

“Huh. Do you ever wonder why I get on your nerves so easily, Brains?”

“Not at all.”

“Really? Well, I do.”

“Bully for you.”

“And I think it’s because I’m so attractive, isn’t it?” That stops you in your tracks. Lips parting, your eyebrows struggling to meet your hairline as you try to wrap your head around that idea. Of course, your brain recognizes the fact that Sirius Black is, objectively, an attractive specimen, but to you? He’s been an annoying thorn in your side since fourth year you’re reminded of every once in a while. You’d rather not think of him in any sort of capacity like that.

Which is why, you, with the utmost grace, tell him, “I say this, and I cannot stress this enough, I find you completely repulsive.”

Sirius’ smile only grows. You glare. A boy behind the Marauder awkwardly stands there, witnessing the intense eye contact between you and Black and you can’t help the twist in your gut as you finally drag your gaze away from him, acknowledging your normal desk partner.

“Morning,” he says. “Didn’t see you at breakfast.”

You sigh. “Stebbins. I went earlier today. You look alright.”

“Thanks, all things considered,” he replies. He looks just as hungover as you do, minus the bruised ribs and wonky arm. You nod. Sirius’ gaze snaps to him. Grey meets a cool brown. You resist the urge to tell Sirius to just go already.

“Stebbins.”

“Black.” A beat. Stebbins gestures at the seat. “You’re in my spot.”

“Apologies.” It doesn’t sound apologetic at all as Sirius stands and Stebbins runs a thumb underneath his book bag, settling beside you. You still don’t tear your eyes away from the Marauder as he looks at you again. “See you around, Brains.”

“I hope not,” you shoot back and he retreats to where James, Remus and Peter are already sitting near the mid-back of the class.

“What was that all about?” murmurs Stebbins, pulling out his book and homework and you give him a weary look.

“What is it ever about with Black?” McGonagall walks into class, capturing their attention, and you lower your voice. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Noted.”

Just because you don’t want to, doesn’t mean Black’s finished. When McGonagall turns her back to write on the chalkboard, you know that it’s Sirius who charms a paper bird to fly onto your desk, and when you unfold it, you can’t help but roll your eyes with a touch of fondness.

Hufflepuff git. Next butterbeer’s on me.

—S.B.

join my 4k celebration!

#willowansweringasks #hayleys4kcelebration #nat #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfiction #maurauders era #marauders fic #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders imagine #my writing

[tink-wondering]

Another title *smashes mug on the floor*: "and I burn for you, even though I shouldn’t"

For this ask game, and this time I am back to the twist... though this one is a bit long (I write a ficlet if you send me a title and a pairing).

Thank you for the ask, @kickassfu, and sorry for the angst... 😬

So without further ado, here is Merthur à la Pride & Prejudice (Darcy's first proposal for those who know about it)

Word count: 854

Rating: General/Teen

and I burn for you, even though I shouldn’t

“What do you want, lord Pendragon,” Merlin puts his cup down, tea time interrupted—irreparably so—when the man rushed into his home. Gwen sends Merlin a curious look at his frosty tone.

“I…” The blond man falters upon seeing Merlin is with company. “Miss Knight.” He inclines his head, regaining some of his composure.

“Lord Pendragon,” Gwen greets in a far more gracious tone than Merlin used. She always was the most level-headed between the two of them. “Did you wish to see Mr. Emrys alone?”

Merlin turns wide, betrayed eyes her way.

As usual, Lord Pendragon does not understand Merlin’s signals, and he says, thankful, “If both of you wouldn’t mind.”

“I do.”

“I do not,” Gwen says louder to drown his reply and stands. “Mr. Emrys, I will see you tomorrow at the same time for tea. I will take my leave now. Good day, gentlemen.” She curtsies as she walks out, sending Merlin a playful smile while she closes the door behind her.

“Gwen,” he hisses loudly, but she’s already gone.

Fortunately—or unfortunately if one were to asked Merlin—Lord Pendragon is too lost in his thoughts to hear his desperate whisper.

“Mr. Emrys!” he starts loudly, and Merlin is startled at his shouted name. The other man clears his throat when he sees his words have instilled panic rather than undivided attention in his listener. “Mr. Emrys, Merlin,” he says more softly. “I must confess to these feelings I have repressed for so long, too long.”

“Lord Pendragon, please!” Merlin tries to stop him before he says anything the both of them would regret. He begins to stand up, but the man gestures with a hand for him to remain seated.

“Call me Arthur, Mr. Emrys. For what I have to tell you is personal and will undoubtedly bring us closer. You must let me tell you how ardently, feverishly—because it is indeed like a disease—my admiration for you has overtaken my heart. Though by the standards high society seeks, your looks are most common as is your family’s behaviour, I find myself burning for you, even though I shouldn’t. I know our standing cannot be more different, nor our opinions in most things,” he chuckles softly, the light from the window catching just so and taking Merlin’s breath away for a second before he remembers who is confessing to him. “No matter what my family, my friends, or even my better judgement could say, these feelings must come out!”

“Lord Pendragon!” Merlin exclaims, trying to stop his confession once again. “Arthur!” he says this time, but his efforts are to no avail.

“An union between us would prove most useless,” he continues, ignoring or unhearing Merlin’s interruption. “Alas, how I feel cannot be helped. You have invaded my thoughts, at all times. I cannot function as I did before without you! I have come to find myself intrigued by your diverging opinions. Enthralled by your fervent passion. Thus, I beg of you, please, accept this proposal. Merlin Emrys, against all odds and despite the misfortune that might come upon us, will you marry me?”

“A proposal you say, Lord Pendragon?” Merlin finally stands up in haste, knocking the tea set with his legs. The delicate porcelain crashes to the ground, leaving the cups and Lord Pendragon’s hopes in shatters. “I have never heard something more outrageous in my life! This is an insult, pure and simple,” he scoffs. “My standing, as you so claim to be opposite of yours, has given me more sense than your upbringing could ever have it seems.”

“I-I did not mean offence by my words,” he apologizes, but it is too late. The hurt has been done.

“If our acquaintance—because this has never been anything more—brings such shame to you, than I think we should part ways indefinitely.”

“I see I misunderstood,” Lord Pendragon inclines his head. A cold mask overtakes his features, Merlin realizes upon seeing the difference between Lord Pendragon from a few moments before and the polite stranger—because this body double is less than an acquaintance—standing before him. “Please, forgive my presumptions as well as my forwardness. I shall live in the shame of my actions and avoid to impose my presence on you in the future. Your feelings have been made clear,” he says with another nod. “I shall take my leave, now. My best wishes for your health and your happiness.”

Merlin’s feet squelches against the tea imbibed rug as he moves to the window to look at Lord Pendragon’s departure. The man does paint a nice picture astride his stallion, but his attitude is most disagreeable, repellent and repulsive, Merlin thinks as he recalls their exchange.

“Good riddance,” he mutters into the empty room, though he’s starting to dread the moment he’ll have to relay the event to Gwen, tomorrow. She will most likely be aghast by his response to Lord Pendragon, but the man just has this way to formulate his thoughts around Merlin that makes his blood boil. He truly hopes he never has to see him again.

#Merthur #prompted writing #Arthur is Mister Darcy #Merlin without surprise if Elisabeth Benneth #Gwen #not totally fitting into the Pride & Prejudice mold #could be Charlotte #probably is in this #misunderstanding #unwanted marriage proposal #your title gave me victorian era vibes #but the smashing of the cup ended with this #so... sorry again!! #Victorian era #titles from my mutuals

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet-chapter 18: legilimens

All chapters

chapter 17

It had been a few days now since my last encounter with Snape except in potions class, but we didn't really speak then, I assumed it was because he didn't wanna seem human in front of the other students. It was Monday and I was headed to the Gryffindor common room to meet up with Hermione as usual, I needed to talk to her about my situation.

 I leaned against the wall waiting for her to emerge from the doors. I closed my eyes for a minute thinking about a certain someone, its funny how when you develop these kinds of feelings, that person really does just habitat your brain all day long, I was thinking about Thursday, when our arms brushed, it was like something out of a movie, when the nerd girl drops her books and the popular boy helps her and their hands touch. Except I was a nerd student and he was, Severus. And had no intention of wanting me like I him. I felt so guilty thinking of him this way, but he was just so handsome and strong looking. Like he could just pin me to the wall and run his large rough hands u- "Hey Y/n you ready?" I was snapped out of my daydream, thank merlin, by Hermione. "Hmm yup" I said as we headed to the Great hall. I needed to ask her some advice, but I didn't want anyone overhearing, meaning the boys. "Hermione, I need to talk to you about some things. Can we skip breakfast and go to the library to talk?" I said looking around for any teachers. "Um ok yeah sure, what about?" She said confused as we switched direction to the library. "Well, it's a couple of things, but remember the questions I was asking you about Ron?" I mumbled quietly to her. "Yes, wait, I was right wasn't I? You like someone!" She said a tad too loud for my liking "oh my merlin shhhhh" I said nudging her. "Who?" she whispered as we approached the library. "I'll get to that in a minute." I said as I dragged her to the farthest corner of the Library and we sat down between the aisles of books. "Ok so I asked you those things, because I may...fancy someone." I said mumbling the last part. "Ok who?" she asked excitedly. I rolled my eyes not sure if this was a good idea, I know she's trustworthy, and she's a very good friend, but what if she's repulsed? I let out a breath, "Ok but if I tell you, you swear not to tell anyone and you wont judge me for it?" I said with a worried look on my face. "Oh merlin it's not Neville is it?" she said a almost disgusted look on her face, "Hey I could do a,lot worse than Neville Longbottom!" I said laughing, "but no, it's not Neville.." I looked down fiddling with my fingers. "It's snp" I said, murmuring the last part to where she could barely understand me. "What did you say?" she said looking at me with confused eyes just wanting me to spit it out, "Snerp"  I said still not looking at her. "For merlin's sake who is it Y/n!" she practically yelled, "Its Snape!" I said raising my voice a bit and cupping my mouth for saying louder than expected. She looked taken aback and her mouth was open a tad, "You don't mean Professor Snape?" she said whispering. I just looked away in shame. "Wow" she added. "I know it's horrible isn't it? I'm disgusting, kill me now, spare the world of my wretchedness." I said putting my face in my hands. "Well I'm sure people have liked worse, I mean some girls flirt with Lockhart sometimes, so it's not that bad" she said with an apologetic grin on her face. "Yes that is true" I said looking out the window next to us. "I just, ugh I feel awful, I haven't liked someone in years, and it was just an attraction, but this is like an actual crush, like real feelings. I didnt think it was real at first, but now i've gone full schoolgirl fantasy for him." I said sighing "Ew don't put it that way, But I mean I guess it makes sense" she said shrugging "really?" I asked looking at her, "i mean yeah if you look at it, you spend a lot of time with him and i'm sure those lessons helped you guys grow more comfortable with each other."

I thought for a moment she was definitely right about that, this probably never would have happened if I was good at potions. "Also the other night I went to the astronomy tower at night to..think, and he showed up and he didn't yell or take me back to my dormitory, he stayed and comforted me and talked to me" I said smiling remembering his scent and his kind words.''Well there you go, it definitely makes sense as to why you fancy him, I mean it's still strange he's a teacher and all, but your feelings are invalid." she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks to Hermione, that certainly makes me feel better about it. I think the worst part about it though is that, id never get to have him, and that thought sucks, I mean you liked ron and now you guys are able to be together, but Snapes just a friends." I frowned at the thought, this really was very shitty. "Yeah that does suck, but hey, these things usually work themselves out and before long you probably won't even give him a second thought." I nodded my head in agreement and pondered on that thought for a moment. "Ms. Granger! what are you doing-" a deep voice bellowed from around the corner, I froze and Snape looked just as shocked to see me being the one talking with her. I looked up at him with a worried face and then back at Hermione. "You two should be in the great hall right now!" he added, still using his stern voice, I internally panicked but pulled it together, "Sorry Professor, we were just studying for Potions!" I said lying to hopefully get him to just leave us be. "With no books?" he questioned lifting his brow.  "We were trying to list the recipe for Amortentia off the tops of our heads!" Hermione quickly added. He wasn't buying it and looked at us suspiciously, I made eye contact with him and his face softened a tad as I pleaded at him with my eyes, "Yes well, don't let this happen again, and do not be late to first period!" He stated and turned and walked away briskly, his cape flowing behind. Once he was out of sight I let out a groan "Oh my- Holy Fuckkkkkk'' I said face palming myself. "What if he heard ussssss!" I moaned out. "I'm sure he didn- oh wait.." she said looking at me with worried eyes.I looked at her and my face grew pale "What? what is it?" I said looking around the corner, "There's something I should mention that Harry told me..." she said in a tone that did not lead me to believe it was something good. "What?" I said scared. "Snape is a Legilimens.." she said with furrowed brows. I felt my heart drop and my throat get very dry. "He's a w h a t " I began having a minor episode, freaking out over this newly acquired information, "So you mean to tell me not only did he possible read our minds and hear this whole conversation, but he has also been knowing what goes through my mind when I'm with him in lessons and in class. AND in the astronomy tower?!" I began to breathe faster, "Well the good thing is most of the time you would know if he was in your head, at least that what harry said, but since Snape is a very skilled legilimens, that might not always be the case.." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, I mean what if he knows, and he's known this whole time, and that's why he wasn't the same after the night in the tower.

I learned all about Legilimency and Occlumency but I had never practiced either of them before. This just meant I was gonna have too. The bell rang and we both looked up, "Well we better get going." she said and I nodded. "I'll see you at lunch" I said speeding off to my first period. I couldn't focus in any of my classes. All I could think of was the idea that Severus was aware of my feelings and was going to resent me because of them. Before I knew it it was lunch, but I had decided, I was gonna learn Occlumency and Legilimency, and I was gonna learn from the best. I hurried to the great hall to grab a sandwich and then headed to Snape's classroom. I took a bite of my sandwich thinking of the best way to approach this, I needed to act the part, like i'm really capable of this and not the tiniest bit afraid, I kept my head high and knocked on his door, it wasn't a day for our lessons, but this couldn't wait. There was no answer, but I knew he wasn't in the great hall. I knocked again still nothing, I waited a few more minutes and decided to just walk in, I mean we were friends-ish so it couldn't be that big of a deal. I slowly turned the knob and peeked my head in, he wasn't in here, I went and sat my things down and looked around the room. I walked over to the storage closet and sure enough I saw the potions professor collecting vials. I wonder why he didn't answer when I knocked, or when I walked in. "Professor?" I said lightly to not frighten him. "Ms. L/n what makes you think that you can just waltz into any room of your choosing when someone does not answer your knocks?" he said not turning around. Keep your game face on Y/n. "Well I needed to ask you something and I was prepared to wait." I said crossing my arms. "What is it this time Y/n?" he asked in a dreadful tone turning to look at me and walk out of the closet, setting the vials down on a table in the front of the room, most likely preparing to brew Amortentia in our classes. "Well a little bird told me that you happen to be a very skilled Legilimens, and I would like you to teach me Legilimency and Occlumency." I said with confidence and a hand on my hip, letting him know I didn't come to play.

"Would this little bird happen to be named Granger" he said giving me a look. "Classified, but will you do it?" I said looking at him in the eyes trying to be as convincing as possible. "No" he said with no hesitation. "What!? Why not?" I said frowning, my hands dropping to my sides. "Because you don't need such skills." he said, not paying me any attention focusing on setting up still. I walked over and put my hand on the table in his way of setting the vial down. He looked down at me with an annoyed face. "What if I come across a death eater or something and I need to defend my thoughts!" I said looking up in his eyes. "Do you have knowledge a death eater may need Ms. L/n?" he said raising his brow, I looked to the side for a minute, "Well, no, but what about in the future say I run into The dark lord himself , and he takes me because i'm the headmasters goddaughter and he thinks I have information and I have no way to protect myself." I said my begging e/c eyes looking into his, now angry, black ones. "You are such a petulant child" he said moving my hand from the spot on the table. I felt a shock run through my hand and butterflies swarmed my stomach, I looked at his hand holding mine and smiled a tad. His felt just as I imagined and was so large compared to mine, I thought back to my day dreaming this morning, til he dropped mine to put the vial in its place. "Please please please! If you say no i'll just keep asking!" I said in a begging motion. "I'll do anything please Sir" I said, giving him my best act. He let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes, "You relentless little girl are going to be what kills me." he said in an annoyed and sarcastic tone. "Is that a yessss" I said wiggling my brows. "Fine but you must return my book to its place at once." he said and I froze up eyes wide and mouth agape. "How did you.." he smirked "Like you said Y/n Im a very skilled Legilimens." "Professor, I just wanted to read it and I was gonna ask you about it anyways I'm so sorry" I said not looking at him. "That's alright but hand it over" he said holding his hand out, I went to my bag and grabbed the book handing it to him, "Oh wait," I said grabbing it from him and tapping my wand to it, muttering the translation spell back to Latin, and handing it back to him. "You know if you had just asked I would have translated it for you." he said using his wand to put it back in its place on the shelf. "I did want to ask, do you know who left the flower in it and who wrote in it?" I said looking back at him.  

He paused for a moment thinking as if he didn't realize they were left in there, "Some boy many years ago I believe, no ones picked it up since" he said turning to shuffle some papers on his desk, I guess he thinks i'm completely clueless, but I wasn't going to make an accusations after he just agreed to give me more lessons on top of the potions ones. "So when should we meet for these lessons?" I said walking to his desk and smiling at him. "Hows after dinner Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays?" I wanted to get as much time in with him as possible, but now I had to really watch what I thought around him, which was gonna be hard, how does one stop thinking? "I cant Wednesdays I have staff meetings but fine." he said really not happy I was basically forcing him to do this. "Great! Sounds splendid. I can't wait! Thanks so much again Professor, I will leave you to it and see you in class!" I said grabbing my things and practically skipping off to my next class. I hoped this would go well, but I needed it too, not only was I going to get to spend more time with him, but I was gonna be able to learn to keep him from my thoughts and feelings, that just meant i'd need to be extra careful around him about what I think, I mean I don't know for sure if he's invaded the certain parts of my mind that would reveal my feelings, but I didn't want to take chances.

#snape x reader #snape imagine #severusnape #professor snape #snape #severus snape #severusimagine #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #Snape slowburn #slytherin #hogwarts

[matrixaffiliate]

Coterminous

New Story! FFN and AO3

The approaching summer is calling to Ginny, and it's using her handsome husband as its muse. A slightly steamy Hinny one-shot.

It's the lovely @deadwoodpecker's birthday, so I wrote her a little something close to her favorite alley of writing. Happy birthday, darling!

Coterminous

Ginny sighed and looked out the back door window at the beautiful sunny day. She'd chosen to work on this article at the kitchen table instead of her office to take advantage of the sunlight pouring in, even donning an old Harpie's training tank top in hopes of basking just a little in the warmth of summer's approach.

These last few weeks before Hogwarts finished always had Ginny excited, but also trying to stock up on the peace that permeated their home during the school year. And looking out at how beautiful the day outside was, Ginny toyed with the idea that maybe it would be better to push the article off for tomorrow and go enjoy the weather.

Her view of the sun-filled garden was suddenly interrupted by the specimen of her husband with the push mower. But it wasn't the push mower that actually caught her attention, it was the fact that Harry was topless that had shifted her focus completely away from the quill in her hand and parchment on the table. The sun was already causing a sheen on his tanned skin and Ginny suddenly struggled to remember why she was sitting at the kitchen table in the first place.

Harry looked over and caught her eye, his smile quickly shifting to a smirk. He waved his wand at the mower and moved to the back door.

"Enjoying the view, Gin?"

Harry's smirk seemed to remind her why she was at the kitchen table, that or her elbow slipping and nearly knocking the inkpot over might have been the reason, but she glared at him all the same.

"Must you walk around topless when I have work to do?"

"That article isn't due until Tuesday," Harry looked back at the mower to be sure it wasn't time to turn it before continuing to eye her. "And you like when I walk around without my shirt on."

Ginny set her quill down and smirked back at Harry. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, "Really? There was once a time where you asked to come home from all your matches to me topless."

Ginny didn't manage to keep her smirk from shifting to a wicked grin. She had said that once, and Harry had taken it to heart.

"I'm sure I was drunk."

He nodded in agreement, "On me."

"Oh, Merlin! Did you really just say that?!" Ginny laughed and pushed her parchment away.

Harry looked back at the mower and turned it with his wand. "I just speak the truth, Gin."

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Ginny laughed harder and pushed her chair back a bit from the table.

"Depends," Harry took a step further into the doorway and beckoned her to him, "Is it working?"

Ginny growled but she did stand up from the table. "Only because you're topless. That line was repulsive."

"Noted," Harry stepped closer, "But you're still over there."

"And you're still over there."

"In the sunshine that you know you want to be in." Harry countered.

She hated it when he was right.

"I'm only coming over there for the sunshine."

Harry's eyes danced behind his glasses as she walked towards him, "And I'm topless."

"Fine yes, and you're topless."

Harry looked far too pleased with himself as he stepped aside from the door and motioned her outside. "After you, Mrs. Potter."

Ginny indulged herself as she passed him and ran her fingers along his chest, tracing the sculpting that was still present only because of the Auror training he'd instigated himself all those years ago. Her smile widened when Harry shivered under her touch.

"Why thank you, Mr. Potter." She slid her fingers along the waistband of his jeans as she walked out and moved to the oversized hammock.

Harry turned the push mower again before gathering the first two rows of clippings into a pile near the bin.

"You're rather handy to have around." Ginny laid back and smiled as the sun kissed her face, neck, and shoulders.

Harry laughed and moved to slowly swing her hammock back and forth. "I'm rather fond of that compliment."

"Well, you've earned it in so many areas, I would hope you at least appreciated it." Ginny closed her eyes to the sun shining above Harry's head.

Harry didn't respond, but Ginny's breath caught as she felt his fingers play momentarily with her wedding ring before moving slow and sure up her arm to her shoulder. His hand took hold of the strap of her shirt and pulled just slightly.

"I like where your head's at." She murmured.

Harry's response was a lie rumble. "It's rather unfair, that I'm topless and you aren't."

"Tit for tat, eh?"

"Something like that," Harry pulled a bit more on her shirt strap. "I think I want to insist on some equality in this situation."

Ginny pushed her shoulder up for him to slide the strap over her shoulder. "Insist on my state of undress?"

Harry hummed affirmatively as he slid his hand up her other arm to grip the strap still on her shoulder. "Feel free to make your own demands, I'm happy to oblige."

"See this is seduction," Ginny lifted her other shoulder for him to slide the strap down. "And my first demand is that you join me here." She batted open her eyes to smile up at Harry and patted the hammock.

Harry's eyes darkened as he waved his wand at the push mower and she heard it stop. "I'm happy to join you, once you've joined me." He gave her shirt hem a tug.

Ginny pushed up to sit and pulled her tank over her head, now coterminous with her husband.

"Better?"

"So much." Harry slid into the hammock with her and pulled her down to his lips.

#gift fic #hinny #post war hinny #fluff #steamy #romance #one-shot #harry x ginny #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter fanfiction

[hpdabbles]

Prompt: Severus thinks the best way to get revenge on Sirius Black is seduce his brother. It goes horribly wrong

The idea comes to him right after Black taunts him by  announcing the loser of whatever game the large group of lions and baggers are playing had to ask out Severus Snape on a date. The pain of the others gagging as they turn to look at him is nearly as much as the hate he feels for those smug-looking silver eyes.

See how much you repulse everyone? They seem to say. See how much no one wants you? You’re the worst punishment I can think of.

He forces himself to walk away willing their mocking laughter to silence for once as he steps. Severus had been enjoying the sun, reading his books not bothering anyone, enjoying himself for once and they had to ruin it. They always have to ruin it. Especially Sirius Black.  

He keeps his eyes on the ground, watching his feet raise and fall as the earth passes him by. There is a deep ache in him that earns for vengeance, to make Black rue the day he said that about Severus.

But how could he? Even Severus can admit the teenager is outrageously handsome, and had he not been an ass then even he would fantasize about dating the Gryffindor. Trying to say that no one would date Black would only make him look like a fool.

“Excuse me.” A soft voice said as a person passed him rather abruptly. Severus spared the running student who was most likely late for a class a disinterested glance. Shorter then him, with long wavy black hair, a sweet looking face and green robes of the finniest silks. 

Regulus Black. Black’s younger less impressive brother. He didn’t have any friends, barely even talked but looked and acted like a deliciated porcelain doll. He is beautiful like his brother but he was also always one harsh word from breaking. He bended before conflict and tried to blend into the shadows when every one so much as looked at him.

Half the time the youngest Black looked frighten to even be out of bed much less in public. The only reason he isn’t a target of bullies, who would love to turn such a weak little boy into a toy is because his family name protects him.

Severus found his lack of strength disappointing. If he had been born lucky enough to be part of such a powerful family he would use that power to the fullest. Such a privilege was a waste on Black who-

Who is the younger brother of Sirius Black, someone Severus wanted to hurt. Who adored his precious little brother no matter how much he tried to hide it. What would the bastard do if said little brother was to be deflowered and become a laughing stock were the knowledge ever to get out?

It’ wouldn’t be that much of a challenge really, to seduce the younger male. After all he is isolated, any attention would be welcome even if it was from someone as repulsive as Severus. He just had to find the right things to say, the right buttons to push and he would have a warm body in his bed. 

Severus smiled a wicked thing watching meek little Black run up the stairs, ducking his head as he pass other students.  “What fun this will be.”

He waited for the perfect moment to approach the other. It took two days but eventually, Severus is able to find the way to seduce him in the library. He had been watching him for a while, making notes of what Black did in his spare time and found the boy absorbed in a fantasy novels more often then not. 

Most purebloods turn up their noses at that branch of literature, thinking too uncouth for their refine taste. Black knew this because he only read them when he was sitting in the farthest corner of the library away from all other students in a old table that was half hidden in shadows. His silver eyes lit up with more joyous emotions then even flying as Slytherin Seeker did, as he read his books while Severus watched from a between the space of two books a bookshelf over.

Severus had his mother send him a book from his bedroom, a old copy of the Thief and the Fantasy Spell-book, where a muggle finds a spell that allows him to cast magic. Of course it’s not even close to real magic but hopefully it would do it purpose. It was the only book he knew that had the word “Fantasy” take up have the book cover. 

He walked out his hiding place pretending to be so engross in his novel that he did not notice Black scrambling to hid his book. He looked up with a well-practice surprise look on his face fighting not to smirk in amusement. Black is sitting with hunched shoulder, a advance potion text book now in his hands. It is upside down.

You fool no one. Severus thinks tauntingly.

“Apologizes I didn’t realize anyone was back here.” He says out loud instead making his tone casual. Black flinches, as if being address is a physical attack, but he lowers his book ever so slightly as Severus turns making sure he can see the cover.

Like a fish hooking onto a line the Black blurts  “You read fantasy?” in surprise before shrinking back.

Hiding the satisfaction his plan is working, Severus struggles to keep his face the perfectly even disinterested expression he is known for. “Hm? Oh, yes. I think it’s a lovely past time, though I only read muggle kind. I haven’t been able to find a wizard series I enjoy besides Spartan’s Path.”

“You’ve read Spartan’s Path?” Black lowers his book completely his pretty face on full display. Severus, despite himself, feels a bit stun by the eagerness and wonder in his expression momently blinded by how attractive the boy is. 

“Y-yes.” He coughs. Now was not the time to be distracted by his hormones. “My favorite is the third book, The Sea of Sin.”

“Mine too! I just adore the scene where they fight the giant sea serpent all the while the ship captain is attempting to seduce Nephele!” Black exclaims with far more life then Severus has ever seen. “Oh but it was romantic don’t you think? Especially when the Veela shows up to try and lure him away? I have a theory that it didn’t work because the captain despite being male who is attracted to a female, is not actually interested in gender but rather the person. It would explain why his magic comes form the necklace of his True Love then Nephele herself. The cave scene for example-”

Severus took a seat across from Black who was speaking more now then the last five years he’s been at Hogwarts. He couldn’t get a word in because Black jump right into another theory of his, citing examples from the text to back up his claims in a very un-pureblood matter.  

He couldn’t look away. 

Oh no Severus thinks watching as Black spoke with his hands a happy little flush on his cheeks, those lovely grey eyes focus entirely on him Oh no he’s so cute.

His plan of revenge! How would Severus go through with his plan now, that Black had gone and placed butterflies in his stomach with his surprisingly sharp mind and energetic softness?

“Oh by the way Snape.” Black says some hours later when they are walking back to their dorms, after talking so long about various book series they both enjoyed. Severus himself got carried away with a few potion academic essays but found that Black could keep up with. He never had so much fun speaking with a other human about possible changes to potions before not even Lily. “If you keep following me around I’ll make your intestines into out-ines. Well good-night!”

Severus blink as the fifteen year old waved at him with a sweet smile and scurried down to his dorm. 

Did....had he been aware the whole...time? He never felt more off balance then he did in that moment questioning every action of his that could have given him away. 

“Don’t beat yourself up Snape” Black called over his shoulder, twisting his neck so one grey eye could peak at him. A playful smirk was on pink lips that had lava boiling in the pit of Severus’s stomach. “Not everyone is as intelligent as me to pick up the signs. I’m sure you’ll get better at deceiving people when you’re a big boy. I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few....things.” 

The last word curved with sinful promise that a shiver ran up from the half-blood’s toes to his head as Black threw his head back and laughed. But it was not mocking. It was a honest to Merlin, laugh of mirth as if though Severus was someone who could inspire that type of emotion in someone. 

“Oh no.” Severus whispers watching the back of the other until he disappeared behind a door.  “Oh no he’s hot.”

#Anonymous #Harry Potter #hpdabbles #regulus/severus #Severus underestimated Regulus #Regulus just chooses not to talk to people #Severus went out for revenge but only caught feelings instead

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Eye for an Eye

Prompt: Hi there, I adore your h/c and angst work! So I have a Merlin prompt for you. Some sort of curse has befallen Camelot and the situation is very dire. As per usual, Merlin and Arthur are out hunting the sorcerer, but it’s starting to look hopeless. The curse will be lifted if Arthur sacrifices an eye (eye for an eye type deal). Merlin won’t let him, so Arthur tricks him somehow and takes his eye out when Merlin isn’t looking. I know this specific but I encourage you to take any liberties you want

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: Merthur if you want, can also be platonic if you want

Warnings: mild gore, it’s really not that bad, other than that, nothing

Word Count: 4253

 The worst part about the curse is that for a long, long time, Merlin wasn’t even aware that it was a curse.

 It started with the whispers.

As he would walk down the hallways, he’d think he was hearing the soft murmurings of other servants, just out of sight, then the guards and their gazes that never left the opposite wall, then the swishing of clothes vanishing just around the corner. Murmurings of his name, of worries, of problems, of something wrong?

 Merlin paid them no heed at first. Whispering in the castle was nothing to be alarmed by. And servant gossip was something he was certainly no stranger to. It’s saved his life and Arthur’s life more than a few times, how could he possibly hold a grudge? So he smiled and raised his chin at the few he did pass, always with smiles on their faces that held no malice or ill will.

 Then came the doors.

 Out of the corner of his eye, he would see a flash of movement and turn to look, only to see a door perfectly closed. Funny, he would swear he saw it open a moment ago. Not enough for someone to slip through, just enough for someone to peek out quickly or vanish into the depths of the rooms. When he paid attention to it, he thought he could hear the squeaks too, of the hinges that had lasted the years with barely any grease. Every now and then, in the quietest corners of the castle, there would be a sharp squeak and low thud of a door.

 Doors open and close all the time. That’s how doors work. And half the time Merlin needed to go in those rooms in a little bit anyway, so he paid them no heed. And often the rooms looked like no one had set foot in them for hours anyway.

 Then came the looks.

 Merlin is not from Camelot, nor is he the ideal picture of a servant by any means. And so it was no shock to him—well, it may have been a shock at first, but now, it’s just a part of his life—that people tended to stare. At him, at his gangly form, at his tunics that did not fit in with the rest of the servants’ garb, at his blatant disregard for anything that was not Arthur’s safety. But still. These looks were…different.

 Eyes would widen, not in disbelief, not really, but in…disgust? Fear? Anger? Merlin didn’t pick up on it at first, just because, well, he’s learned to ignore so much of it, but when he started seeing it he couldn’t stop seeing it. The turned-up noses, the way they would edge a little further away from him. The faintest furrowing of the eyebrows. Like there was something on his face that was repulsive but no one wanted to tell him.

 It says something about how Merlin’s used to living, doesn’t it, that it’s only when the hallucinations started that he realized something was actually wrong.

 He’s in Arthur’s chambers, crawling under the bed to fetch the prat’s comb—how it ended up there Merlin has no idea—when the door creaks open.

 Arthur doesn’t call out, so Merlin frowns, edging all the way under the bed to figure out who’s coming in here without seeking permission first.

 Heavy boots tromp around the room, going first to the desk, then to the shelves, then working their way slowly around the bed. Merlin peers out from under the cover of the blankets, looking to catch of glimpse of who it might be. His eyes widen.

 Thick, black boots with silver chains.

 H-how—

 It must be a coincidence.

 The boots get closer and Merlin’s breath catches in his throat. They stop. Right next to the bed.

 “An eye for an eye,” rumbles a voice that is dead, the Witch Finder fell from the castle walls, how is he here— “and you will see.”

 The door bangs open.

 “Merlin!”

  Arthur.

 “Merlin, are you still under my bed? Did you even find the comb yet?”

 “A-Arthur?”

 “Yes, Merlin, did you get your little bottom stuck again?”

 Merlin’s still trying to catch his breath. “Arthur are you—did you—“

 Arthur’s golden face appears next to the bed, along with his familiar brown boots. He frowns. “What are you doing under there?”

 Absentmindedly, Merlin reaches out for the comb a few inches away from his hand. He slides it over to Arthur who palms it.

 “Well, that’s that. Come on out.” When Merlin doesn’t move, he frowns deeper. “Merlin?”

 “Sorry.” Merlin scrambles to get out from under the bed, only to be caught by Arthur as he turns to go about the rest of his chores. “What?”

 “You look upset,” Arthur says immediately, “tell me.”

 “It’s nothing.”

 “No, it’s not, it’s something, now tell me.”

 “Arthur—“

 “Merlin.” Arthur’s grip on his arm gentles and he glances at the closed door. “Merlin, it’s me. You can tell me. I did just find you hiding under my bed looking like you’d seen a ghost.”

  Seen a ghost, huh?

 Merlin swallows heavily. “I, er…”

 “You…didn’t,” Arthur asks slowly, “did you?”

 Merlin shakes himself. “Sorry. I must be tired or something.”

 “Mm.” Arthur lets him go but he doesn’t move away. “Well, you’re not alone. I haven’t been sleeping very well lately either.”

 “You haven’t?”

 Arthur shakes his head. “It’s strange…it feels like I’ve been…is something coming up that I’ve forgotten about?”

 Merlin racks his brain, which is even worse at keeping track of things that it should be. “Don’t think so, why?”

 “It’s just that everyone’s been whispering lately,” Arthur mutters as he strides to his desk, “and I’ve been hearing doors closing out of nowhere, doors that no one’s opened for years, and everyone’s been looking at me weird.”

 “You’re the King of Camelot,” Merlin says, “isn’t that to be expected?”

 “It’s not that kind of weird. It’s like…”

 Something in Merlin’s blood runs cold. “…like you’ve got something on your face and no one wants to be the one to tell you?”

 “Yes. Exactly.”

 Merlin swallows. “And these doors. Do you think you see them moving but when you actually look they’re shut?”

 Arthur gives him a strange look. “Have you been having the same thing?”

 “…yeah.”

 “…did we…do something?”

 Merlin glances at the door. “I’m not sure it’s just us.”

 Sure enough, Gaius comes to him that night while he’s cleaning up from their supper with a grim look on his face.

 “Have you noticed anything strange recently, Merlin?”

 “Strange for Camelot or strange for me?”

 “Both, I suppose.”

 Merlin sighs. “Well, the only thing that was…actually strange was I saw—“

 He cuts himself off. Gaius…Gaius would understand why this was so troubling, wouldn’t he?

 “Go on, Merlin.”

 “…I thought I heard the Witch Finder.”

 Gaius inhales sharply. “Aredian?”

 “I was in Arthur’s chambers, under the bed, and I—“ Merlin swallows— “I heard his boots. Then I saw them.”

 “You saw him?”

 “His boots. With the silver chains? He was walking all around the bed, like—“

 “…like what?”

 “Like when I was hiding under his bed in his chambers.” Merlin’s hands tighten on the table behind him. “And I heard him says something.”

 “What did he say?”

 “Something about an eye for an eye and everyone finally being able to see.”

 Gaius nods gravely. “Well. That’s quite ominous.”

 “You’re telling me.”

 “I’ve heard reports of increased anxieties around the castle and the city,” Gaius says, “and now that you’ve said you’ve actually seen something, I fear this might be more sinister than I anticipated.”

 The cold in Merlin’s veins returns. “What’re you talking about?”

 “There is rumor of an ancient curse,” come the words that, really, at this point, Merlin should expect coming from Gaius, “that exacts a very specific type of vengeance against someone.”

 “What kind of curse?”

 “Supposedly it makes them see things how you see things.”

 “So in this case—“

 “Increased paranoia, apparently,” Gaius sighs, “as well as figures from the past.”

 “Who could’ve done something like this, who would want to get back at Camelot by making everyone—“

 Merlin stops.

 Oh, shit.

 “…making everyone terrified that everyone else knows something about you that you really don’t want them to know,” Merlin finishes, his eyes wide, “and that they’re plotting about it behind your back.”

 “Not unlike what it feels like to have magic in Camelot.” Gaius hums. “Mm. Well. That certainly narrows it down.”

 “How do we stop it?”

 “I’ll have to look.”

 “Start looking,” Merlin says, already rushing out of their chambers, “I’ll try and see how bad it’s gotten.”

 As it turns out, pretty bad. The knights are having trouble training properly because no one is able to make sure the times have all be set. The kitchen is utter chaos, unable to tell the real whispers from the fake ones. Servants no longer smile in the corridors, skirting around each other. The kingdom slowly starts to grind to a halt as the market stalls begin closing, people stop going out of their houses, and the guards are met with suspicious glances on their patrols.

 Then, of course, there are the sightings.

 Most of them are vague enough that they can be dismissed. Lights that turned on out of nowhere. Smoke that makes strange shapes in the dark. Chains rattling.

 But then there are also talks of shadowy figures moving through dark alleyways. Ominous cloaks roaming the squares at night. Glowing eyes in the night.

 Arthur hears them out dutifully, promises to search the kingdom for sorcerers, but reminds the people to ensure they’re eating well, that they have enough to get by, that they’re taking care of themselves during this difficult time. Merlin watches from the side of the room, silently glowing with pride at how well Arthur’s supporting his people.

 In private, though…

 “Arthur,” Merlin says softly, “you’ve been staring at the door for ten minutes. It hasn’t opened and there’s no one on the other side.”

 “How do you know that,” Arthur growls, his gaze fixed on the handles, “how do you know for sure?”

 “Because I just came through them and no one was there.”

 “Not even the guards?”

 “The guards are stationed further down the corridor, as you requested.”

 “Have I forgotten something?”

 “No, Arthur.”

 “I bloody well hate this,” Arthur grumbles, throwing the quill to the desk and standing up so fast the chair’s legs squeak across the floor, “I should feel safe in my quarters, in my home, in Camelot, people should feel safe, has Gaius figured out that bloody curse yet?”

 “Not yet.”

 “How can someone live like this?” Arthur’s fingers grab at his hair. “Which whispers, with looks, with—with—“

 Arthur cries out in frustration. “It’s like—like someone’s always staring over my shoulder, and they won’t go away, they never go away—“

 Merlin’s hands land on Arthur’s shoulders, pressing until he slumps onto his bed. Arthur sighs heavily, leaning into Merlin.

 “How do you do it, Merlin,” he mumbles, “how are you fine?”

 “I’ve got you to worry about, don’t I?” Merlin squeezes Arthur’s shoulders. “Kind of hard to worry about myself when I’ve got you to look after.”

 “That sounds awful.”

 Merlin shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

 There’s a pause.

 Arthur’s head raises slowly. “…Merlin, say that again.”

 “I’m used to it?”

 “That’s what I thought you said,” Arthur says quietly, his gaze hardening.

“Arthur, what—“

 “How could you be used to this, Merlin?” Arthur stands up, shaking Merlin’s hands off his shoulders. “How could you be used to this?”

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 Merlin’s mouth runs dry. “Arthur, I—“

 “You didn’t even notice it at first, did you?” Arthur takes a step forward. “You weren’t even a little disturbed until I found you that day under my bed. How long did it truly take you to notice?”

 “I noticed it that day, that’s the day I spoke to Gaius—“

 “But only after you’d seen something,” Arthur interrupts, his face darkening as he forces Merlin to take another step back, “after I told you something was wrong.”

 “Arthur—“

 “You said you were used to this.” Arthur’s just about snarling now. “Which means you were already living like this.”

 “Arthur please—“

 “How could you not tell me?”

 “I’m sorry, I was going to, I promise, I just didn’t want—“

 “I could’ve helped!”

 Merlin stops. “You what?”

 “I could’ve helped, Merlin!” Arthur’s hands come up to grip Merlin’s arms. “This is awful, Merlin, you should’ve told me, I’d’ve—we’d’ve figured out something!”

 Eyes widening, Merlin looks at Arthur. Arthur’s still staring hard at Merlin, but his eyes aren’t angry, not really, at least not at Merlin. No, instead he looks almost like he’s trying to apologize.

 “I’m sorry,” Merlin manages, “that I didn’t tell you earlier.”

 “No.” Arthur squeezes his arms. “I’m sorry. If…if this is what it’s been like for you, then—then it’s no wonder you didn’t want to tell me.”

 “…it’s not much fun, is it?”

 “No, it really isn’t.”

 “I don’t think Gaius has found the solution yet.”

 “Do you know if he’s close?” Merlin shakes his head. “Damn.”

 Merlin slowly lowers his arms from their defensive position. “…er…oh!”

 Arthur’s arms tighten around his middle as he pulls him into a furious hug. “We’ll fix this, Merlin,” he mutters into Merlin’s shoulder, “I promise.”

 The whispers vanish into Arthur’s chest as he hugs back.

 A guard bangs on the door a moment later.

 “Sire!”

 “Yes?”

 “Gaius, sire.”

 “Send him in.”

 Gaius appears a few moments later, his brow furrowed and a heavy book in his hands. He lays it out on the table, the page open to something with an ominous-looking eye-symbol on the top.

 “This is the curse, sire,” Gaius says gravely as Arthur leans over the book, “a paranoia spell that is designed to induce a state of madness.”

 “And you’re certain it’s been cast over all of Camelot?”

 “At the very least, the city. I’ve had patients from all over the city reporting to me about the same thing.”

 “How far along are we?”

 “The last stage of the curse is the visions.” Gaius points to a section of the page. “‘Victims will suffer tormented visions of those they have wronged, that will serve to convince them of their own madness.’”

 Merlin shudders. The Witch Finder’s black cloak still swirls in the corners of dark hallways.

 “How do we stop it?”

 “There are two ways, it seems. Either you kill the sorcerer responsible, or…”

 “Or?” Arthur prompts when Gaius trails off.

 “…have you experienced any visions yet, sire?”

 “No, why?”

 “Because all of those that have reported seeing full corporeal visions have told me the same thing.”

 “An eye for an eye,” Merlin says softly, the Witch Finder’s voice still grating in his ears, “and you will see.”

 Gaius nods.

 “Wait, so one of us has to die?”

 “No,” Merlin says, “it sounds like we just have to lose an eye?”

 “There is a counterspell that can be performed,” Gaius says, “using the eye of a person that has…well.”

 Arthur nods sharply. “Well…that’s not our first option. Is there anything in that book about how to find the sorcerer responsible?”

 “The spell must be cast inside the bounds of whatever person you wish to effect. I do not know if that means they are in the city or in all of Camelot.”

 “Has all of Camelot been affected?”

 “I don’t know that either, sire.”

 “Send out patrols,” Arthur barks to guards outside, “assemble the knights. We must find out at once.”

 ‘At once’ turns into a week. Then two. Then a month.

 The whispers are getting worse. Doors are bolted shut and still, they can see them opening and closing. The visions start to spread. Arthur starts insisting Merlin stay close.

 A month stretches to two months.

 There’s still no sign of the sorcerer.

 The market is shut down. No one goes outside except to tend to their own little plots of land. Everyone eyes everyone with cold gazes.

 Then Arthur walks into Gaius's chambers in his sleep shirt, dark bags under his eyes.

 “This counterspell,” he grits out, “how does it work?”

 Gaius stands. He leans on the table and consults the book. “It would require the eye of the…”

 “Person in question.”

 “…yes sire, then a few herbs, a magical circle, and the full moon.”

 “When is the next full moon?”

 “In two day’s time.”

 “Can you do it?”

 Gaius raises an eyebrow. “You would consent to the use of magic?”

 “I’m already consenting to the removal of my eye,” Arthur replies grimly, “that’s not much more to ask. And refusing magic is what got my people into this mess anyway, isn’t it?”

 “…I suppose that is true.”

 “How fresh does it need to be?”

 “…it should be removed the night before, I believe.”

 Arthur nods sharply. “Well. One day more, then.”

 “One day more until what?”

 Arthur looks over his shoulder to see Merlin bursting back into the chambers. “What’s happening?”

 “The counterspell.” Arthur looks back at Gaius. “Two days until the full moon, right?”

 “That’s correct, sire.”

 “What, you’re not—“ Merlin grabs Arthur by the shoulder. “You’re not giving up your eye are you?”

 “What other choice do I have? This curse is tearing the kingdom apart.”

 “Arthur, it’s your eye, you can’t—“

 “Exactly. It’s my eye, so I’ll make the choice.”

 “You won’t—you won’t be able to fight anymore, your knights—“

 “I can learn, Merlin.”

 “Arthur—“

 “It’s my fault!” Arthur explodes, making Merlin wince with the force of his shout. “It’s my fault this curse got cast upon Camelot! It’s my fault I didn’t chase things the instant I was able to! It’s my fault you’ve been living like this for years!”

 “Then it’s also mine for being a bystander!” Merlin refuses to budge. “I’ve done no better than you! I’ve been standing by and letting this happen to my own people. Hell, I’ve helped!”

 “You’re one of them, Merlin! It won’t work!”

 “How do you know?”

 “Because you haven’t done what I’ve done!”

 “How do you know?”

 Arthur pauses. Merlin stands there, breathing harshly.

 “How do you know,” Merlin says lowly, “that I haven’t been worse than you? I did everything knowing the injustice that I was serving, knowing that what I was doing was wrong, I—“

 He takes a deep breath.

 “I killed people, Arthur. People that didn’t deserve it. People just like me and I knew that if I didn’t I—“

 Merlin swallows heavily, his throat running dry.

 “…I betrayed my own kind long ago,” he says lowly, “so no, Arthur, you are not more responsible than I.”

 Arthur is quiet, looking at Merlin, panting in front of him. Then he slowly raises his hands and lays them on Merlin’s shoulders.

 “I would not do that to you,” he says softly, “not in your own quarters.”

 Merlin breathes a sigh of relief. “So you won’t do it then?”

 Arthur shakes his head. “I won’t do it here. Wouldn’t have you walk out of your room first thing in the morning to see that.”

 Despite everything, it makes Merlin chuckle. “Might lose my appetite.”

 “Oh, I doubt very much anything would make you lose your entire appetite.”

 “Oi!”

 Merlin can’t stay upset, not as the relief washes over him. Arthur gives a nod to Gaius and they leave, back to Arthur’s chambers, back to the safety of somewhere else.

 “Put my armor on, please,” Arthur says after a little, “I want to train with the knights.”

 The armor slides on with a click. Arthur takes his sword and walks to the training field, where the knights are waiting. Leon offers to spar with him first, as Percival and Lancelot take up staffs on the other side and Gwaine slaps Merlin on the shoulder.

 “Help Elyan and I set up the targets, yeah?”

 Elyan tosses the strap to Merlin as they start working. Merlin can’t help glancing over at Arthur every now and then, watching the fluid grace with which he moves, the way the sun gleams off the ends of their swords.

 He looks like himself again.

 “We’ll find them,” Elyan murmurs as they go back to the table, “we’ll find a way to end this.”

 “I know.”

 The night falls as they go back inside.

 “Did you want me to stay again,” Merlin asks as he takes the armor off, only for Arthur to move before it’s fully undone and smash it against the wall, denting it horribly.

 “..oops.”

 “Ugh,” Merlin grumbles as he looks at the piece. It’s bent so far out of shape it’s hard to tell what it was. “Nevermind. I have to fix this.”

 “And you certainly can’t do that here,” Arthur agrees. “I do need to sleep.”

 “I’ll have it back to you in the morning, alright?”

 “Are you sure you’ll be alright sleeping by yourself?”

 “I’ve got Gaius.”

 “Alright.” Arthur lays a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Thank you, Merlin, for all that you’ve done.”

 “It’s my job!”

 “It is,” comes Arthur’s voice, softer this time, “and you do it very well. But let me do something for once, yeah?”

 “If this means you’ll get your own breakfast tomorrow, then yes, absolutely.”

 Arthur chuckles, warming Merlin’s chest. He waves Merlin out with a smile. Merlin walks back to his chambers and falls asleep with the armor still in his lap.

 Not even the light of the full moon is enough to wake him up.

  Clang.

  Clang.

 “Oi, watch it!”

 “Sorry!”

 Bustling noises outside reach Merlin’s ears, causing him to grumble and twitch awake. As he sits up, he hears the noises of the marketplace that he hasn’t heard in over a month. People. Outside. Talking.

 He frowns.

 He can’t hear any whispers. No doors creak. And as he looks around, he can’t see the swish of the Witch Finder’s cape.

 “Gaius?”

 No response.

 Merlin rushes to the door and looks out.

 No breakfast set. No Gaius. And the spellbook on the table is gone.

  No.

 Merlin’s heart is in his throat as he rushes through the castle, coming upon Gaius on one of the staircases. The question dies in his throat as he takes in Gaius’s expression.

 “You know how hard it is to convince Arthur,” is the only thing he hears as he dashes past.

 He pushes through the doors.

 Arthur sits with his back to him, looking out into the square as it starts to fill with people. On the floor next to him is a bowl in a smoking magic circle.

 “They’re coming out again,” he says softly, “they’re free. It’s over.”

 “Arthur,” Merlin says in a strangled whisper, “Arthur, you said…”

 “I said I wouldn’t do it in your chambers,” Arthur replies, still not turning around, “and I didn’t.”

 “Arthur—“

 Merlin rushes to Arthur’s side, freezing at the sight of the bandage covering Arthur’s left eye. Arthur stares up at him, not an inch of tension on his features. As of matter of fact, he almost looks…peaceful.

 “Oh, Arthur…”

 “It’s not so bad, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, smiling, “it doesn’t hurt.”

 “But—you—Arthur—“

 “You know something about you, Merlin?”

 “What?”

 The smile grows. “You’re a responsibility hoarder.”

 “I’m what?”

 “You are,” Arthur says, still smiling as he stands to take Merlin’s hands. “You think the whole kingdom, me included, rests on your shoulders alone. And that’s not fair to the rest of us.”

 “And that justifies this?”

 “Yes, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “because it’s my kingdom too. And it’s as much my duty to protect it as yours.”

 “But I’m supposed to protect you,” Merlin whispers, his hands flying to cradle Arthur’s face. Arthur’s hands cover them gently.

 “You did, Merlin.”

 “How?”

 “You told me,” Arthur says, “you told me what was happening. If you hadn’t we might not have figured this out until it was too late.”

 “But you—“

 “Hush,” Arthur says, terribly fond, “it’s not so bad. I don’t regret it.”

 “You’ve had this for…like…a few hours?”

 “At this point? Half a day.”

 “How can you know you don’t regret it?”

 “Because I only need one eye, Merlin.”

 “How can you say that?”

 “Because,” Arthur whispers, still holding Merlin’s hands, “everything else I have you for.”

 Merlin’s breath stutters to a glorious pause.

 “…Arthur?”

 “I do, don’t I?” Arthur’s smile widens. “I can learn how to fight again. I can still rule with one eye. And everything I don’t catch, you will. Isn’t that right?”

 Merlin nods furiously. “Yes, Arthur, I won’t—I’ll stay by your side.”

 “Then that’s all I need.” Arthur pulls him into another warm hug. “I don’t need an eye when I’ve got my Merlin.”

 An eye for an eye, Merlin thinks as the kingdom begins to wake from its paranoid slumber, and you will see.

#merthur #merthur fic #merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #dragonbabbles #fic

[cheesyficwriter]

The Invitation

This work is considered a follow-up to another short ficlet of mine, The Waltz, which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669656

By cheesyficwriter

Ron works up the courage to ask Hermione to the sixth year ball.

Words: 1.5k, Chapters: 1, Language: English

Fandom: Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling

Rating: T (for mild language, courtesy of Ron Weasley)

Categories: F/M

Characters/Relationship: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607285

FFN: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13824727/1/The-Invitation

Ron Weasley was on what he considered to be the most important mission of his life so far: to get Hermione Granger to go to this blasted sixth year ball with him.

Following their initially awkward turned bloody amazing Waltz in front of the entire sixth year class, Ron had felt as if he were walking on air, not even stopping to realize or debate the next step until Harry pointed it out to him one day.

"So, have you asked Hermione to the ball yet?"

It finally occurred to Ron, oh Merlin, that the ball remained in his court, yet again, to make the next move. Would Hermione be expecting him to ask her now? Well, of course he wanted to, but would she want him to? He was fairly confident, given the fact that she didn't seem repulsed in the slightest by dancing with him in class, that she might be interested in attending the event with him. But the last thing he wanted to do was to muck it all up and spit out some half-arsed invitation again. He cringed, remembering his weak and failed attempt at an ask during fourth year: "Come with one of us." For fuck's sake.

Saturday, he decided. He would ask her on Saturday, giving himself a couple more days to mull over exactly how.

--

When Saturday morning rolled around, Ron hadn't come any closer to figuring out exactly how he would ask her. He first found Hermione down in the common room. She was curled in her favorite chair over in the quietest corner of the room, tucked securely away from any social groups that loitered about. She was so entranced by the book she held open on her lap, in a very typical Hermione way, that he knew she would never notice him studying her. He admired the way her curls fell in front of her face as she read, how he could see her tiny, delicate fingers tracing the lines on the page as she scanned the words intently. There was a blanket draped across her lap and he could just make out her stocking-covered toes peeking out from the bottom of the blanket.

"Ron," a voice to his left disrupted his ogling, "Are you coming to the Great Hall for breakfast?" It was Harry, who was eying him with amusement.

"Uh...maybe in a bit, mate," he snuck another quick glance over at Hermione's unmoving figure. Harry followed his line of sight and then smirked.

"Alright then, see you later, " Harry reached out to give Ron a supportive pat on the back, almost as if to say good luck.

Ron observed Hermione for a few moments longer, until he decided that she looked far too comfortable in her current position that he didn't want to disrupt her. He convinced himself that his motive for delaying the conversation was out of pure consideration for her space, but he couldn't deny a part of him accepted the delay due to the growing nerves that bubbled about in his stomach.

--

About an hour later, Ron returned to the common room, disappointed to find Hermione gone. He knew she didn't come into the Great Hall for breakfast, because he was certain she would have found the boys to eat with them if she had done so.

With an inkling as to where she might be, likely a place she typically ended up in on a late Saturday morning, fading into the early afternoon, Ron headed toward the library.

He was right of course, spotting her immediately at her usual table near the bookshelves in the back of the room. Ron knew that she always liked choosing that particular table because it was the closest one to the history section, her favorite genre.

Ron settled into a seat at a table in the opposite corner, reaching behind him to grab a random book from the shelf, using the book as a way to conceal his face.

Madam Pince walked by and narrowed her eyes at Ron, clearly suspicious of his motives for being in the library on the weekend. He waited for the librarian to pass by before he snuck a glance over at his best friend again. In true Hermione fashion, she remained perfectly poised and still, the only semblance of movement being her head that shook slightly as she scanned line by line on the page of her now half-read book.

Perhaps this wouldn't be the best place to have a leisurely conversation with her. Also, he was faintly afraid that Hermione would hex him for interrupting her library time.

Ron departed the library and decided it might be worth waiting to try again after lunch.

--

However, Hermione didn't show up in the Great Hall for lunch, of course. It was a beautiful, sunny, and crisp fall day outside and he figured she might have gone to eat lunch in her treasured spot underneath the willow tree closest to the lake.

Sure enough, there she was. He studied her from behind a nearby tree of his own. This time, she was juggling a half-eaten apple in one hand, holding her book out in front of her with her other hand. Ron figured the sunlight was hitting the page of her book just right, given the way she had her elbow propped up on her knee to stabilize the position.

Ron wavered on his feet, accidently snapping a twig on the ground, making Hermione's head snap up in surprise. Ron darted backwards, hoping that his body was firmly hidden behind the large tree. He paused and waited with bated breath for several seconds before he chanced a risky look back at the brown-haired girl in question. Ron was relieved to find that Hermione had already returned to her reading task, yet again fully consumed in her own little world around her.

Well, he absolutely couldn't go back and ask her now, without giving away that he was the one sneaking around. With a heavy sigh, Ron trudged his way back up towards the castle.

--

Just before dinner, Ron spotted Hermione in the corridor on the way to an unknown location. He figured this very well might be the last opportunity of the day he would get to catch her alone, as she typically headed up to her dormitory after dinner. He followed behind her at a leisurely pace, watching the back of her head as she turned down another corridor. Ron poked his head around the corner and barely caught the slight flash of Hermione's bushy brown hair as she disappeared into an empty classroom. He crept his large, lanky legs stealthily until his back was pressed up against the wall, just past the door to the classroom Hermione entered. Ron barely had time to mull over what to do next, when a sharp voice disrupted his thoughts.

"Hi, Ronald." Ron whipped his head around to find Hermione standing just behind him, with crossed arms and pursed lips.

"AH...uhm…uh…" Well fuck.

"Are you going to tell me why you've been stalking me all day long?" She regarded him suspiciously.

"Stalking you? You're mental. I'm just…"

"Following me around all day, not uttering a word, but staring at me when you think I'm not looking?"

How could she have possibly caught me staring at her? "You don't even look up for your bloody book long enough to even be aware of who is around you, how would you even know what I was up to all day long?" He retorted.

"Aha!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. "So you admit that you've been watching me."

Ron gritted his teeth. "I've known you for several years now, Hermione, it was a casual observation because you literally do the same thing every bloody Saturday."

"That is not true!"

"Hm, really?" Ron tapped his chin, pretending to think. "So your life doesn't revolve around studying, studying, and….more studying?"

"For your information, I wasn't reading one of our textbooks. I was reading…" She blushed and looked down at her feet.

Oh now he was curious. "Reading what?"

"Just reading up on the history of…ballroom dancing."

Ron was nonplussed by Hermione's confession. "Oh yeah….yeah...cause the ball is coming up soon at the end of the month." Excellent segway into the conversation, genius.

"Ron, are you going to ask me to the ball?" Her rebuttal was immediate, causing Ron's eyes to widen at her blunt question, as his palms started sweating profusely.

"I was...working up the courage." Well, this is going just swimmingly.

"Really? So that's what you've been up to all day? Working up the courage to ask me? That is so…"

Ron gulped nervously, unsure of where this conversation was heading.

"...adorable."

"Really?" His eyes brightened hopefully.

"Yes, really," Hermione smiled shyly back at him.

"Blimey." He rocked back and forth on his heels, feeling exponential weight lift off of his shoulders.

"Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah?"

She leaned closely to whisper, "Now's the time."

Now's the time? What could she mean…"Oh."

Hermione continued to look at him expectantly, almost impatiently at this point.

"Hermione Jean…" He started on an exhale, teasing her by adding her middle name, "Will you come with me to the winter ball?"

Hermione considered his proposal for a few seconds, before her lips spread into a beatific smile. "I would be absolutely delighted to."

Ron's face lit up with elation. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Brilliant!"

Ron gestured towards the books in her hands, offering to hold them for her. She let him take her belongings graciously. They walked down the hall together, side by side, both filled with eager anticipation for the evening they would be spending together in the near future.

"You know, I actually have decent dress robes this year," Ron's voice echoed down the corridor.

"Oh honestly, Ron!"

#fanfiction #romione #harry potter #writing #the invitation #cheesyficwriter

[ghostlyandcoastly]

The Dusty (dramione marriage law fic)

Hi I posted my first real dramione fic (other one is probs dead and abandoned) last night I figured why not post it here too! You can read it on AO3 or read it below

Chapter One: Ginny brings the wine

Hermione returned to her flat drained of all energy. She was not a witch easily defeated. She fought Voldemort throughout her school years for Merlin’s sake! It took a lot for Hermione Granger to have the fight in her body and brain depleted. And this? This was what broke her.

She’d been in a twelve-round legislative battle. As a legislative aide to the Minister of Magic, one of the youngest and brightest, she’d been working against a certain bill. A bill Hermione saw as the end of peacetime. A bill that Hermione would go to her grave cursing. A bill Hermione thought immoral and suspect. It was a Marriage bill. Although she supposed now, she would have to come to terms with the fact it was now a Marriage Law.

She had made valiant legal and moral arguments. She had lobbied members of the Wizengamot. She had garnered support in the wizarding media. And yet, when the cards fell, she was on the losing side. She was not used to losing. It did not feel good.

The bill- the law, she corrected herself mentally- was called The Decree To Unite Wizarding Society Through Espousal (DUWSTE or “the dusty” as Ron and others had taken to calling it). It mandated that every unmarried witch and wizard ages 21 to 35 be married. Yet this was not the only mandate. It required pureblood wizards to marry muggleborns or first-generation half-bloods. And still, yet, this was not the most repulsive thing about the law to Hermione. The second most repulsive thing about this would be that the pairs would be determined by magic. The members of the Wizengamot who initially proposed this law had charmed a goblet (which reminded Hermione of the disastrous consequences of a certain goblet of fire in her fourth year) to spit out names “appropriately” matched. The pairs would be revealed in a ceremony in one week’s time. The worst item in the proposal- now law- was the Child stipulation. Couples must produce at least one magical child within three years of marriage. There were invasive measures to be taken which would determine levels of fertility and whether the couple has made attempts at the child-making process. Hermione found this despicable. No matter how sterile the language was, the details were reprehensible. The idea that any man or woman would be forced to stand by, having their privacy completely disregarded in such a crude manner was shameful.

Hermione accused the law of depriving wizards and witches of agency and publicly ridiculed the idea that whatever charm the proponents had placed upon the goblet would result in “loving and harmonious couples” as a farce. 

But all of her fighting was for not because the bill had passed, although narrowly. She had been biting at her nails as the final votes were cast. When Wilhemina Walters cast her yay vote, Hermione had nearly broken down in tears. There were two more members to vote after that but Wilhelmina, one of the swing votes, had put it in the pocket of the bill’s proponents. Once the final result was called, (“The Decree to Unite Wizarding Society Through Espousal has passed the Wizengamot for immediate enactment. Notices to the relevant wizards and witches will be sent out on Monday via the Minister of Magic’s office. This session of the Wizengamot is hereby adjourned.”) Hermione fled from the chamber and found herself bent over the toilet, throwing up her guts like her lunch was slugs and she was Ron in second year.

Hermione shook her head as she felt another round of tears welling up. She could not believe this was happening. In one week, she would find out who she was marrying. Her mind drifted thinking of the possibilities. There were few men she actually liked and was comfortable around. There was obviously Harry and Ron whom she loved. But neither of them was an option. Harry and Ginny had been married a year and a half ago. Ron was engaged to Susan Bones as of seven months ago, prior to this bill being an issue. The Dusty (she was now resolved to not give it more respect than it deserved) had a stipulation that if you were engaged prior to the enactment of the law with proof of the date, you were not subject to the matching “service”. However, if you submitted a waiver under the engagement clause you must marry within three months of the enactment of the law. The other male friends she had were similarly tied up in relationships. Neville proposed to Hannah Abbott a month ago- not because of the law, but because they were in love. Although Hermione had her suspicions about whether Neville and Hannah rushed it because of the law. There was George who had eloped with Angelina Johnson (now Weasley) a few months ago. They both outright admitted that it was because of the law. They did not see any purpose of waiting if they were going to be forced to marry. There were Dean and Seamus but they’d been married since the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. 

The only single male friend she had was Blaise Zabini. Zabini was also a legislative aide to the Minister of Magic. They’d fought together against the bill but he hadn’t been quite so invested. He proposed to her daily, knowing she was annoyed at the prospect of marrying not out of an abundance of choice and love. The proposals were never serious. Blaise had said if the bill passed, he was sure he could put up with whoever he was matched with. He knew he was charming and he didn’t really believe in true love after all. Blaise made fun of Hermione for being a closet romantic. She huffed but she knew it was true.

A knock at her door pulled her from her reverie. She made her way to the door without much enthusiasm. Looking through the peephole which glowed green for “safe and familiar”, she saw it was Ginny. She opened the door to her friend’s too bright expression.

“I have wine and I have chocolate. Let’s mourn the end of your singlehood.”

Hermione felt her eyes well up.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Drink!” Ginny shoved her way into her flat and pushed Hermione to the couch and went about getting wine glasses from the kitchen, leaving the large bag of chocolates on Hermione’s lap. Hermione sighed deeply before tearing into a hazelnut vanilla chocolate.

They spent hours gossiping about anything other than the law. They got drunk and they ate chocolate and called for takeout delivery. But once properly lubricated, Ginny broached the topic.

“Soooo… at least this means you’ll finally get laid again.” Ginny said with a slight but noticeable slur to her voice. Hermione, being a lightweight, had a loose enough tongue to not just shake her head at Ginny.

“No way! I don’t wanna get ministry-mandated-sex for the rest of my life! I should-” She hiccoughed. “I should have gotten laid more often.” She sighs.

“You should have. But you were too busy fighting the damn dusty to do much of anything except eat, sleep, and be dragged for-forcibibibily to social gatherings on the weekend sometimes by my husband and me.” Ginny finished her statement and Hermione was about to reply indignantly (she didn’t have to be dragged per se) but Ginny sat up abruptly. “I have an idea! An excellent idea!”

“Oh no. What?” Hermione knew to be on guard when drunk Ginny had an idea.

“You still have time! You have a week til you get your partner. Even then, who says you can’t have a fling before you get married? It’s not like it’ll be a particularly romantic relationship in the three months they give you to get to know each other before marrying you off.”

“You want me to have a fling?”

“I want you to get laid. I want you to have sex that you won’t hate. I know you. No matter how nice the guy is, how attractive he is, or how big his cock is, you won’t be satisfied with ministry-mandated sex!”

“That’s right at least. It’ll always be in the back of my mind that this is something that I didn’t want, that would be forced upon me.” She sighs, expecting tears to come but they don’t. Maybe she’d run out.

“So that’s that. Tomorrow we’ll go out for a girls’ night, inviting Luna and Susan and Hannah, that will result in you getting laid at some bloke’s apartment and us married and engaged folks will go home and get laid by our husbands-fiances.” Ginny lacked tact sober. When drunk, she certainly didn’t pull punches. “One, way to put a fine point on it. Two, you expect me to have a one night stand?” She said doubtfully. “How am I gonna find someone? I know all of wizarding London pretty much. I’ve been out with a couple of people and either they were deeply uninteresting or uninterested in me.”

“I doubt the latter was true for anyone, first of all. Second of all, we’ll go to a muggle club. You can have hot, completely noncommittal sex with a muggle and it’ll be fun! I promise!” Hermione looked at her friend with doubt, amusement, and a bit of insecurity in her eyes. “I promise!” Ginny repeats. With that, they move on to other topics but the idea Ginny has planted has taken root in Hermione’s mind. She had one week of freedom where she wouldn’t be government-mandated engaged. She’d spend it having fun and thumbing her nose at the ministry.

That had been a Wednesday night. Hermione woke up Thursday with a hangover and owled in sick for the day at work. She wasn’t ready to show her face. If she saw Joanna Gibson or Todd Travers, she might have punched their pretty little noses. Joanna and Todd were both legislative aides of Norris Baumbach, the senior member of the Wizengamot who was responsible for pushing the bill through. Hermione despised the two of them. Travers was the cousin of a convicted Death Eater and his Slytherin ambition was crystal clear to Hermione. Travers would do anything to clear his family name- and that included playing dirty, provided he wasn’t caught. Joanna Gibson was an obnoxious Ravenclaw half-blood who, while she wasn’t as dirty as Travers, was significantly more a bitch. Hermione didn’t want to see their smug expressions. All the legislative aides worked on the same floor and there would be no avoiding them once at the ministry.

She spent Thursday eating fast food and peanut butter cups. She watched The Notebook and caught up on a muggle romance novel she’d started months ago. She received several owls from friends with good wishes but she didn’t have the energy to respond. She promised herself she would wake up early tomorrow and reply but today was a day that she reserved for herself.

On Friday she woke up early like she said and responded to everyone.

To Harry, she wrote,

I’m fine. Ginny should keep her mouth shut. I know you’ll always be there for me and I appreciate it. I’m getting ready tomorrow at yours so we can talk more then. Love you.

To Ron and Susan (though the note from them had been distinctly Susan with a postscript distinctly Ron), she wrote,

I’m fine. I always knew it was a possibility. Love you guys. We should meet for lunch next week. Trust me, I’m determined to have this damn thing affect my life in the least amount of ways possible. Speaking of, Susan, would you like to join Ginny and a few others and me on a girls night out tomorrow? Also, Ron, I happily accept your offer to blow my future husband’s bits to smithereens if he lays an unwanted hand on me. Love you guys too.

She answered Luna, Kingsley, and Neville’s notes next before moving on to the final one. The one from Draco Malfoy. They rarely spoke. Malfoy was occasionally around the office when he came to visit Blaise and they had worked together once when Hermione was working on legislation that she needed a master potioneer’s help with. Hermione found him to be every bit as arrogant and obnoxious- though even she could see he was not the boy he once was. For one, he was very much a man, as loathe as she was to admit such a thing. Yes, Draco Malfoy had grown into his pointy features and his skin no longer looked unhealthy- though it was a far cry from tanned.

The note from Malfoy had been short and had sparked a fire in her that had previously been put out.

Granger,

Blaise tells me you owled in sick to work. Never thought you’d be so easily defeated. All these years of poking at you and you let a little thing like a ‘lowly despicable immoral’ law that cast shade on all our futures defeat you. Tsk, tsk. What’s that muggle saying? Don’t let the bastards get you down? Get back up, Granger.

She was irritated. She was mystified. She felt like she had been confunded. So she wrote back to the best of her ability.

Malfoy,

Firstly, you made an inaccurate assumption. I simply wasn’t feeling well. Don’t presume to know me. Secondly, why must you Slytherins be so shady about your meaning? I can’t tell where you stand on this law. You certainly never spoke out against it. Nor in favor of it. Though I’m guessing your bigoted little mind would be against it- poor Draco Malfoy could never sully himself with a muggleborn, surely it’d be beneath him. Curious that you didn’t speak out. Or did you just not want to be on the same side as me? Thirdly, you made a common muggle mistake. The actual phrase is don’t let the bastards grind you down. Don’t worry, happens to the best of us. Fourthly, I will be back at the ministry today but not simply because you told me to so don’t go getting a big head thinking your words of wisdom somehow prompted my miraculous recovery. Fifthly, why are you writing to me? What do you get out of this?

Sincerely sod off,

Hermione Granger

Hermione made a noise at the back of her throat, proud of her note but distinctly uncomfortable that Malfoy had contacted her about this. Even more so uncomfortable that he was encouraging her. Albeit in a very arrogant way. Could she expect anything different from Draco Malfoy?

She shook it off and hurried off to the ministry, determined to turn her legislative tide. She was at her desk for only a few minutes before Blaise sat down across from her and slid a steaming cup of coffee her way.

“Oh, bless you!” Hermione gushed. 

Blaise smiled and replied, “I didn’t sneeze but you’re welcome.” Then his expression changed from jovial to sober which was a disturbing trend as Hermione had so rarely seen that change. “So how are you feeling?” Hermione huffed at this question. She’d probably be fielding it a lot for a little bit.

“I’m fine.” She insists. He gives her a look that says don’t lie to a liar. “I’ve made a plan. All I’ve ever needed was a plan.” Blaise snorted.

“You’re not running off with Potter to defeat You Know Who.” Even after all these years, many still wouldn’t say his name. No matter how often she would insist to Blaise that fear of the name blah blah blah. “You’re going to be married. And he could be the most charming bloke and you’re going to despise him. You’re not fine.”

“Ginny said something similar.” She blushed remembering Ginny’s comments about her mystery husband’s dick. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. There’s no more fighting it. At least not outright.” Blaise squinted in a very Slytherin manner.

“What exactly do you have planned Golden Girl?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you just love to know.” She winked at him. He leaned back and grabbed his heart in a sarcastic but friendly manner. She laughed at his antics. “Back to work, back to work.” She made a shooing motion with her hand and he rolled his eyes at her.

Hermione was working on another Goblin fair pay bill because the last one had come out so toothless its supporters waned and its antagonists still voted no. Getting the Goblins to work with her on it had been a beast of a task in the first place. Now she had to go back to Moregi, the appointed Goblin liaison to the ministry, and beg for his cooperation once again. He was a cynical creature, to begin with, and with the latest defeat, he was growing more so. She couldn’t blame him though. It was rather defeating.

She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. It seemed nothing was going right. She knew when she took the job that it would not be easy and she was not the kind of person who could leave work at the office and not pour every ounce of herself into what was in front of her. Before The Dusty, Hermione had fantasized about true love, being the closet romantic she was. She had dreamed of a partner to come home to, a partner who would make her want to leave it all behind her when she stepped through the floo. Her heart twinged as she kissed this fantasy goodbye. She’d be chasing work even harder than usual once she had her ministry-appointed husband in her ministry-assigned place of residence.

“So is that what you do all day to get it to look that way?” A distinctly arrogant voice pulled her out of her reverie.

“What are you on about this time Malfoy?” She groaned, not looking up. He came around from time to time despite not having any official ministry position. Malfoy was the first of the Malfoy men to take up an actual career that wasn’t flitting about in politics and investments. He was an apprentice to Ollivander. Hermione always did wonder about that relationship given that Ollivander had been trapped in his family’s dungeons.

“Your hands. Mussing about in the mess you call hair.” He drawled. She looked up at him and gave him a cruel look.

“I imagine your hands spend plenty of time in your hair, massaging the pounds of hair product into it.”

“Yes, and I imagine it would take absolutely massive pounds of hair product to tame your hair an inch.” He tossed back.

“Pounds can’t be massive. It’s a definitive measurement, you can’t qualify it.” She informed him, satisfied with herself. Malfoy opened his mouth to retort but found himself interrupted by his best friend.

“What are you annoying Granger about this time, Draco?” Blaise asked.

“Oh, we all know Granger’s apparent annoyance at me is all just an act for how much she fancies me.” Blaise raised an eyebrow at this. Malfoy just smirked.

“You possess the charm of an acromantula to me, Malfoy.” She put her head down, back to the legislative work that awaited her. Blaise laughed at his two friends and sat back with his feet up on his desk.

“What brings you this way, Draco?” Blaise asks.

“Checking to see that Granger hadn’t offed herself yet and to take you to lunch, Blaise.” Draco said casually. Hermione looked up sharply and stood in the next second.

“I’ll have you know I’m doing perfectly fine!” She’d reached her wit’s end of everyone treating her like she’d suffered a personal tragedy and Malfoy’s casually cruel comment set her off. “Or I will be, very soon.” She said more to herself than the two men in front of her.

“Ah, yes. The plan.” Blaise said.

“Yes. The plan.” Hermione turned up her nose, resisting the urge to stomp her foot.

“What plan are you referring to?” Draco asked Blaise, knowing he wasn’t likely to get a response out of her.

“She won’t tell me. Just something that involves her indirectly fighting The Dusty.” Blaise informed Draco.

“Zabini!” Hermione reprimanded. She didn’t need Malfoy peering into this. Meanwhile, Malfoy just scoffed.

“The language of the law is quite precise. You know it damn well. What could you possibly do?”

“I’m taking back control of my life.” She said vaguely.

“What does that mean?” Blaise asks, unable to resist a puzzle.

“It means… well…” She wasn’t sure how to continue this. But Malfoy’s eyes were challenging her and she was always up for a dare. A Gryffindor, indeed. “The law says nothing about a pre-marital fling.”

She waited while the boys digested this. Then they looked at one another and burst out laughing. This led to her hands situating themselves on her hips in a haughty manner.

“What is ever so funny?” Hermione hissed.

“Your plan is to become a hussy?” Malfoy smirked, still chuckling.

“Excuse you!” She nearly screeched, causing the few in the office to look over at them. Well, those that hadn’t been looking before.

“C’mon, Hermione. It doesn’t exactly seem like you.” Zabini added.

“Yeah. Come off it. Haven’t you already turned to ice and stone from the lack of taking control as you put it?”

“You don’t think I’m capable? Neither of you?”

“Of casual, adult fun? No, I don’t.” Malfoy shrugged.

“Not that you’re incapable… just not necessarily comfortable doing something like that.” Blaise countered.

“I-I! Well! I’ll have you both know that I am not some sexless amoeba. I am an adult woman perfectly capable and willing to have a tryst with a man.” She resolutely exclaims.

“Alright. I’m sure you are.” Blaise held up his hands innocently, admitting defeat. Malfoy had not gotten the stand down memo.

“Prove it.” He says.

“Excuse me?” Hermione balks.

“Come to the pub tonight. We’ll pick a fellow out and you have to seduce him. Unless you’re incapable and unwilling.”

“Well, as shocking as this may seem to a prejudiced fool like you, Malfoy, the plan is to go to a muggle club. I’ve found them to be much more attentive than wizards anyways.” She added the last part, trying to make him blush as much as he was her.

“Well you have fun with that, Herm-” Blaise is cut off from his peacemaking efforts.

“We’ll come.”

“What?!” Blaise exclaims.

“We’ll come to your muggle pub. Meet you at the Leaky at nine?” Malfoy challenges her. She squints at him, trying to determine his game here.

“Sure. If you can stand to breathe all those muggle germs.”

“You know nothing about me, Granger.” He says cryptically before turning to Blaise who looked stricken, an uncommon occurrence for him. “Ready for lunch?” Without another word, he turned and started walking out the door. Blaise sighed heavily and stood to follow him but stopped at Hermione’s desk.

“Do you want me to talk him out of this?” Blaise asked, giving away his secret that he is actually a good friend.

“No. It’ll do the both of you some good to experience some culture that’s not prickly wizarding society. And do me some good to the surprised look on your faces when I do snag a man.” Hermione said more confidently than she felt. Blaise smiled and kissed her cheek.

“I’m sure this will go swimmingly.”

Hermione slumped to her chair. She was really going to do this now, wasn’t she? The thought of The Dusty popped back into her mind- her reason for this whole plot to begin with. A twinge in her gut reminded her how sharp the loss still was. The nervous fluttering in her stomach reminded her how very trapped she felt by it all. But the solid beat of her heart in her chest reminded her that she was a Gryffindor and Malfoy had baited her- she wasn’t about to back down.

#dramione #marriage law fic

[connieswriting]

I’m here now// Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: @bengaliandslytherclaw​ “can you do a Fred Weasley x Reader post Hogwarts and war and also a Ravenclaw reader with a bit of angst and fluff mixed and maybe not in the Burrow thanks”

A/N: I hope I did your request justice. I just didn’t include the part about being a Ravenclaw since I couldn’t get it to appear naturally in the story. I hate the ending but I had fun writing it, I hope you enjoy it and please send in requests! I had a couple busy weeks but I have time now!

----

You took another sip of your tea looking out of the window in your shared apartment with Fred. Even though the war had long since finished, the pain that you felt was still very much prominent. All the loss, the grieving of so many people at the same time, all of the funerals that didn’t seem to end; the constant questions to which you could never actually answer truthfully, all of the “How are you holding up?” and “How are you feeling?” with those pitiful smiles that you dreaded; the tears that seemed to not be able to stop falling down anymore. Maybe it was better to become apathetic, maybe it was better to just not have a soul anymore, at least you wouldn’t be feeling like this, so depressed, so out of you, so dependent of other people to do your menial tasks that you couldn’t seem bothered to do anymore. It was too much, too much had happened in such a short amount of time, so many people had been killed right in front of your eyes, so many children, just finishing up their first year at Hogwarts, so many young people that could barely even count as teenagers yet, so many of them that had become orphans, you included, overnight. You had lost, along with your family, so many of your friends that it was almost impossible to know how you were even able to be coping with everything.

           All the memories of you smiling, laughing, having fun seemed so distant at the moment, so far away, almost as if someone had them and told you about it afterwards, almost as if you had them but in another life, a life where you hadn’t known this kind of pain, this kind of dull feeling always present in your chest. It was hard to believe that Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been a mere year ago, not with all those laughs and kisses you had shared with Fred, in between all those glasses of champagne that were basically bottomless, something that you didn’t seem to be able to do now. Had your parents still been alive this day, they would have most certainly told you to stop shredding tears for the people you lost and instead focus on the people you have in front of you right now. Your mother would have most likely added that you shouldn’t be feeling like this since you knew what was to come before the war had even began, so you just should have been prepared.

           The mug on your hands had long since gone cold, but you couldn’t be bother anymore, part of you felt maybe the cold your pair up well with the hot tears that started falling down your face once more. It had started to rain a while ago, adding so much unnecessary cliché to the moment. The front door opened and closed quietly, a tall red-haired emerging from it. You had noticed that the pain you were feeling in that moment seemed so less prominent that you it was supposed to, adding a tad bit of guilt to the list of emotions you had been feeling in the past days. Perhaps you had gone through so much and got hurt so much, so quickly that any of the really bad emotions you had been feeling was wearing off, you tried to reason with yourself, using the sleeve of your sweater to clean your tears away.

           “Hey, love” Fred started kneeling in front of you, though you didn’t turn to meet his eyes. “Feeling any better?” You chose to ignore the generic question, you knew he already knew the answer by heart, he was just trying to strike up conversation, wanting you to talk the way you used to, so carefree

(so naïve)

So full of life, so excited

(so unexperienced)

You shook your head in your mind, trying to get all those thought out of it. The truth was that you couldn’t feel that way anymore, you couldn’t be happy, joyous- every time you tried to talk you seemed to get chocked up. You tried going to a therapist for a while, well, you tried many therapists, right after the war, but it made pretty obvious rather soon that none of them were going to work out since none of them could actually understand what you were going through, none of them could, none of them could understand what you felt, what you were still feeling.

“Mom is organising a family lunch tomorrow, if you feel like finally getting out of the house” the boy continued, unbothered by the lack of response or even movement from his girlfriend. “She specially requested your presence (Y/N), she even told me to go to the Burrow today, just the two of us, so we could spend the night there and maybe help out tomorrow, maybe it would take your mind off of things, keeping you busy. We could take the train there, or call for a car, if you don’t feel like using magic to travel.” You didn’t move, predictably- it had been like this for weeks. Him trying to sough out any sort of response out of you, inviting you to get out of the house, even if just to get breakfast at the café right next to your apartment building, cracking his usual jokes, retelling the pranks him and his twin had pulled back in their days at Hogwarts, giving you your favourite flowers and cooking meals for you since if he did not basically force-feed you, you would just neglect all kinds of food, your stomach too filled with anger and repulsion of surviving whilst your friends had all died in your place to accept anything willingly.

Fred sighed heavily, resting his hands on your thighs “Please, just say something, anything!” he looked at you, your face still facing the window, not a single muscle moving. “How long are you going to keep this up? Were all doing awfully you know, for Merlin’s sake, Georgie is half deaf, I almost died! But still, here I am, here we all are, trying to cheer you up, trying to get you to feel better, like we didn’t go through the same things!” It was the first time he had raised his voice at you, keeping any negative thoughts out of your way, preferring to take care of you instead.

“Oh, that is so nice of you!” you scoffed, finally turning to look at his face. It held a mixture of anger, relief and guilt. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly need help, I don’t need you, Fred, your mother or anyone, as a matter of fact, to cheer me up.”

“Obviously you don’t. I am so sorry I spent all this time trying to get you back on your feet when you didn’t even need any help at all with it. So dumb of me to have missed how you’re already doing so well on your own. What an absolute wanker I am.” He threw his hands in the air, dramatically.

“Okay, I’m sorry, when exactly did you hear me say that I was ‘back on my feet’? I just said I didn’t need your constant smothering. I need to grief on my own.” You put down your mug on the tiny coffee table next to you. “You’re right, you went through some things I went through, but certainly not exactly everything. You didn’t see your best friend being killed right on front of your own eyes, you didn’t lose both your parents only a few hours apart and you certainly didn’t almost lose the person who had promised to marry you as soon as the war was over…” You added the last part in a whisper, almost uncertain if you really meant for him to hear it or not. Fred was shocked to say the least. Ever since the battle at Hogwarts, you two had barely spoken two words, not from lack of effort on his part, this had not only been his first time opening up but also yours.

“Do you have any idea what it was like hearing about the explosion and how it had caught you? Do you have any idea the fear I felt during those hours when you were unconscious? I had already lost so much; I couldn’t bear to even think I had lost you as well. Yet, I had to put up with seeing you laying in that bed, so much blood on you, your family around you crying so much that I could barely even comprehend it for a second. All those thoughts that had gone through my head during that time, all those “I have officially lost everything, my soulmate is gone as well” that kept popping every single time I thought they were gone for good, every…” she trailed off, resting her face in her hands “You’re right, I have been inconsiderate towards everyone lately, specially you, but I just got so close to never seeing you again that that has basically been all I could think about every time I look at you. A life without you in it, without you at my side, it’s just…” the warm tear started rolling down your face again, prohibiting you from continuing.

“I… I had no idea you felt like this. I can’t believe I actually put you through that” Fred took the opportunity to speak up once more, pulling you into his arms “I’m here now, I survived, right? Shouldn’t that be all that matters” he spoke quietly, softly, letting you cry on his shoulder “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why didn’t you tell me what you had been imagining?” He pulled you away from him, analysing your face, using his thumb to brush away your tears.

“It’s not like I could just go up to you right after the war had ended and tell you what everything that had gone through my mind during those hours. Not with everyone so relieved that you had survived, it wasn’t the right moment, and the, as time passed, I couldn’t bring myself to do so and I kind of just kept everything to myself, piling up all of my feelings. My parents were gone, Hannah was gone, and it just felt I had no one to talk to anymore…”

“You had me; you have always had me! It has been so awful to you lately I just wanted to get you to open up a bit, so… well, so this wouldn’t happen!” he smiled apologetically, pulling you into his embrace once again. “Oh, blimey, I can’t believe this, love. Look…, hey, look at me” Fred held your chin, hosting your head up “I’m here now, I pulled through, I’m with you now and, trust me, I’m not going anywhere. I regret to inform you that you’re basically stuck with me for life now, (Y/N).” You laughed a bit, he immediately smiled, it was the first time he had heard that wonderful smile in weeks and Merlin, had he missed it. “Promise me that any time you’re feeling something like this again, every time that you’re feeling, even if just a little bit, blue you’ll come to me, so we can do it, go through whatever it is, together.”

“Yeah, yes, I promise. It has been awful not talking to you, I missed you so much” He leaned forwards, capturing your lips in his. If there was a list of things he missed about you, kissing was certainly right at the top “Now, how about we start getting ready to go to your parents house? I reckon it’s time I left the house, I reckon I’m in need of a distraction and your mother is providing the perfect one” He didn’t answer, he just pulled you into his embrace again. After all this pain, it felt like heaven to be able to hold Fred once more.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #ron weasly imagine #george weasley imagine #bill weasley #charlie weasley #weasley imagines #draco fanfiction #hogwarts #magic shop #weasley wizard wheezes #percy imagines #Neville Longbottom #newt scamander #newt imagine #newt scamander imagine #fred x reader #fred weasley x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #hermione granger #ginny weasley #arthur weasley #hogwarts mystery #hp #headcanon #harry potter preferences

[dualdaospirits]

Do you think if they ever reboot ATLA they would make Zutara canon? Reboots have changed quite a few things(the new She-Ra is vastly different from the original) especially with all the support Zutara got post-series

Hmmm, an interesting question. It depends on many things I think, not the least of which being who the showrunners are and the tone they want to set. We may get to see our reboot soon, actually, since there’s a live action Netflix series in the works (they haven’t started production yet though, so don’t get too excited). As far as I know, Bryke is at the forefront, and while that’s great news since it means another abomination hopefully won't happen, it does mean that a Zutara relationship probably isn’t likely since they’re big fans of the Katara/Aang relationship.

That being said, I think it would be a missed opportunity if they didn’t, and I’ll explain why. (Disclaimer for any non-Zutara fans reading this, being a Zutara shipper is not my main motivation for thinking or wanting it to be canon). First things first, the audience. I don’t know if post-series Zutara support would have much of an effect on Bryke, but it’s possible that the producers or Netflix would notice and try to factor it in. However, I don’t think pandering should be the reason they include Zutara--far from it. The original audience that watched Avatar has grown up at this point. Many of us are in our twenties, give or take. We’ve matured, and it would be foolish of the showrunners for ignoring this fact. If there’s a reboot of Avatar, live action or animation, the majority of the audience will be those that grew up with the show, not kids the same age as the audience of the animation. I think that’s evident enough with the release of Avatar on Netflix (notice how many people are rewatching and falling back into their love for the show?) and the comics. Ah, the comics. Some things they did well, others...not. What they did do well is writing the storytelling more maturely than the show. I don’t mean to bash the original show as it obviously had no problems including the dark effects of a war story in bite size, easy-to-swallow chunks for kids (a good thing). However, they treat the audience more seriously, knowing that not everything needs to be spelled out. You see the same in Korra. And to me, that’s part of what makes the Zutara relationship so captivating and intriguing--it’s mature. It’s not easy, and it has faults. It’s not “hero gets the girl after saving the world”. It’s complex. 

I’ll say this now: there’s a difference between a relationship being canon and being endgame, and it’s an important difference. I definitely think Zutara should be canon, if not endgame, in any reboot they do.

Personally, I’m excited for a live action version if they ever get around to it. It brings many new factors to the table, and the majority of them have to do with adaptation. (I’ll mainly be talking about a live action version for a little bit, excuse the art student that shows). Adaptation, especially between mediums, is tricky to execute. You see many book-movie adaptations that succeed, and some that miserably fail, and others in between. This goes for other forms as well, ex: book to comic, book to animation, animation to film, etc. With any medium adaptation, the story will inherently change. You can't hear a character's inner dialogue or prose written in a book in a film, so changes have to be made or the filmmaker must write or use film language to substitute for it. With adaptation, changes must happen, that's a fact. To me, more often than not those adaptations succeed when the creator embraces that fact and uses the medium to their advantage. Sometimes this changes the story, and sometimes that change enhances it for the better. Take Game of Thrones or Harry Potter. The former deals with many characters and worldbuilding that is extremely complex, and they did an excellent job in getting you attached to those characters. However, they did have to change some things from the books, and while some weren’t as successful, others did remarkably. (Before anyone starts raging, I’m specifically talking about the seasons where they still had books to go off of). For Harry Potter, we have eight movies to analyze, which I will not be doing, but I will say that the weakest films storywise were the fifth and seventh, simply because they tried to do both too much and too little, if that makes sense.

How would this apply to a live action ATLA? Well, it wouldn’t be like the animation, most likely. It’s a medium adaptation, meaning that the approach they had in the animation won’t work the same in live action. Think about it--you don’t watch animation, especially 2d, the same way you watch live action, psychologically and subconsciously. There’s a separation there between their world and ours. It lessens with 3d animation, but it’s much much smaller when it’s live action since it looks like our world, more or less. Would GOT beheading and other violence (you know what I mean) have had the same effect if it were 2d animation? No, probably not. Yes, I know that anime has its fair share of gore that can be extremely realistic and gross, but it still doesn’t have the same impact it would if it appeared on your screen with quality vfx. Now, these are extreme examples. I really doubt that they’ll make the violence that intense or realistic in the show, as they’ll more than likely want to keep it family friendly (there’s still kids that watch the original). Another disclaimer (ik there’s a lot of them, but people can misunderstand this kind of critique as bashing, which it’s not): I am not saying that the original animation of ATLA is not impactful, absolutely not. I have no trouble getting attached to animated characters, laughing or crying with them, etc, especially if the writing is good. However, it was a kids show, and it was written with that in mind. This is apparent to me as I’m rewatching the show now. There’s some dark stuff that happens, as is the nature of a war story, and the animation handles it excellently. But think of how different it will be seeing the ruins of the Southern Air Temple, practically a garden of bones, Gyatso’s included, in live action. Show us all the nitty-gritty of the lower rings of Ba Sing Se, and the corruption up top. Let this affect the characters. Bring this moral ambiguity into light, as it was done in the show. I think that if they’re going to tackle a show in this way, not a movie or series of movies, it would be smart of them to lean into these darker themes, not shy away from them. Like I said earlier, the audience has matured, and there’s so much more to explore with these stories and themes. I’ll say with confidence that they’ll definitely do this, and possibly add a story or two. Otherwise, it will just be a rehashing of the original, word for word dialogue. Not that the original is bad (obv not), but I don’t think we should want that. There’s a lot of potential in a live action series, and I think they’ve learned lessons from the abomination that already tripped over itself. It was an example of adaptation done badly. However, you can change a story without destroying it, but it’s a delicate operation. That’s why having the original showrunners on gives me a bit more confidence. To be clear, I don’t think they’ll go full PG-13 or higher. It’s still possible to have family/kid friendly media without shying away from the darker parts. ATLA is a great example of that. If you want a live action example of a show that balances humor, heartache, and violence beautifully, look at Merlin (bbc). 

I think you bring up an interesting point with She-Ra and it’s divergence from the original. I haven’t seen the original animation, but I can say that the new one was successful in telling a new and fresh story in the same universe. The act almost as parallel stories in that universe. How To Train Your Dragon is the same way--the book and movie have very very little in common story wise, but it’s a beautiful trilogy nonetheless. Would this work with ATLA? Possibly, though I doubt they’d want to stray away from the original’s core themes. Though, you can fight me on this, Zutara does align with those themes, but that’s another post (this one is long enough). However, it’s such a complicated question because it inherently considers countless possibilities, so there’s no definite answer. It’s a beloved show that’s already been butchered once, so how much would they be willing to change?

Now, how does Zutara factor in? (getting to the point now). For many of the reasons above, I think it should be canon. Their dynamic, their rocky relationship, the journey of trust and acceptance, the connection they have, all of it is ripe for exploration, especially in a revamped, inherently more mature story. Instead of a predictable relationship where there was never any real conflict (Katara was always loyal to Aang, and their fights were never truly consequential), you have a relationship coming from a difficult, seemingly impossible place, one that requires time to establish. Like I said, it’s not an easy relationship. Part of it is strengthened by Zuko’s wonderful redemption arc. He needs to build a foundation of trust before almost any of the Gaang trust him (Aang, the angel, is willing to give him a chance almost immediately in Book 1, and though she didn’t care one way or the other at first, he did accidentally burn Toph’s feet). What would a Book 4 have brought us? Despite what Bryke say about it being a false rumor, Ehasz, a co-producer, said that it was at least discussed, plus Book 3 definitely had more to give, so I take it with several grains of salt. Anyways, even wondering about it hypothetically produces interesting theories. We see at the end of Book 2 in the cave that Katara, once she overcomes her immediate, and warrented, repulsion of Zuko, she’s able to connect and see a bit of his heart underneath the layers and layers of angst and anguish obscuring it. This scene is popular in the Zutara fandom for a reason. However, I think that making changes to characters, especially in Zuko’s case should be done extremely selectively and purposefully. His arc is one of the most fantastic accomplishments of the show, and I think very little should be changed. For example, he should still make that doomed, yet inevitable choice in that cave to join Azula, but perhaps they’ll include his mother as a more forefront character, especially when he goes back to the Fire Nation. By all means, give Ty Lee and Mai more than just a conversation to supply their backstory. Thoroughly explore the swampbenders and the Freedom Fighters. Show more of the original airbenders in Aang’s memories! There’s room for exploration without dismantling the world or characters like the M. Night film did. For Zutara, I think that expanding Book 3 and giving the characters more time with each other would be invaluable. Think of how quickly Katara and Zuko grew close, from Katara threatening to off him first time he even hinted at being a threat, to becoming one of the most instinctual and formidable teams in the Gaang, to saving each other’s lives in the final battle. That’s not even mentioning the Southern Raiders.  The conflict over the entire show as the backdrop for a relationship like that, romantic or platonic, is incredibly suitable for a reboot. If it was explored, the outcome would be so powerful. 

I said before that there’s a difference between canon and endgame relationships. This just means that a relationship can be confirmed and explored without being the outcome. If Bryke include Zutara at all, that’s most likely how they’ll do it: adding a love triangle that ends up with Katara and Aang getting together. Honestly, it would be a method of making K/A a more interesting relationship and a way to have the characters grow a bit. However, this has the awful potential of just shitting on Zutara and turning it into a toxic relationship, which I’d rather not see.

But if it wasn’t Bryke running it? Absolutely, I think Zutara would, and should, be canon. Adaptation should take risks and be willing to explore, and I think Zutara is the type of dynamic we should see.  

#zutara #atla #atla live action #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #sorry this got really long i have a lot of feelings

[thesmalltowngal]

COC Snowbaz 29- Laying Into Love

COC #29: Firsts

So many ‘firsts’ for the boys as Simon stays at Baz’s flat for the first time. 

~ Originally it was just going to be the first time Simon spent the night at Baz’s flat. Then it kind of took a turn and now it’s like four firsts in one. But I’m glad I changed it- it’s much better now. Enjoy! ~

“Alright, tosser. I s’pose I better get going,” I say, slowly slipping my shoes on. I’ve been in Baz’s flat all day. We’ve just been watching movies and snogging. (I couldn’t snog him for a long bit. I’ve been getting a bit better.) But now, after being here all day, being that it’s bloody 11 o’clock at night, I figured I should head out. (When did it get so late?) Baz is looking at me like he wants to say something. Once I’ve got my things on, I walk over into his open arms and cling there for a moment. (Please, please ask me to stay.) His arms are so comforting and warming around my back. The feeling never gets old, even though I’ve been wrapped in him all day. 

He mutters something into my hair (wanker is still fucking taller than me. And doesn’t he know it), but I can’t decipher his muffled words. I step away from his arms and say, “What’d you say?” He looks down and blushes (he fed just an hour ago), looking awkward. 

“I, erm-” He never stutters - not even when he’s nervous - so by extension, it’s making me nervous. “Or you could stay?” It’s phrased like a question. Part of me wanted him to plead it; for him to tell me ‘stay’. But with all of my mental… things, I know he’d never demand or push. Mostly, I’m thankful. (I also wish people would stop acting like I’ll break.) (And so what if I do?) But thinking about staying with him- insinuating that we would do things, I start getting anxious. He widens his eyes and blushes harder. “Not to… do anything. Just- it’s late, and I just thought maybe you’d like to spend the night for once. You don’t have to, of course, it’s just-” He’s adorable when he rambles. 

I cut him off, relieved that he said we didn’t have to do anything. (I wish I could get my fucking shit together so we could do things. Merlin knows there are things I’d like to do to him. For him to do to me. I just… can’t, yet.) “Okay.” He stops in the middle of his sentence. The tension around his eyes relieves a bit and he smiles his soft smile- the one he saves for me. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I could sleep on the couch or-”

“-or you could sleep in the bed? With me? Not to do anything, I just,” He cuts off his own words. It’s hard for us, sometimes. To talk. To share what we feel. (We both know fuck-all about communicating. We’re better, but. It’s still hard.) “I’d just like it if you did.” I can feel a yawn rising in the back of my throat, and I’m too bloody tired to feel particularly worried about being in the same bed as him. I know he won’t do anything; I trust him. So I nod my head and take off my shoes and jacket. He lends me a pair of pyjamas (that smell perfectly like him. The smell itself nearly gives me a right hard-on.) 

Soon, we’re both dressed and under the covers in his bed. It’s like being enveloped in Baz himself. His sheets are so soft against my ankles, and there’s plenty of room for us to be on opposite sides of the bed while still being comfortable. But… I don’t really want to be on opposite sides of the bed, even if there is enough room. I know he’s just trying to respect my boundaries, and that’s lovely, and it is the first time we’re sharing a bed, but. Well. I think I can do a bit more. We cuddle on the couch, after all. This isn’t much different. 

I can feel his cold nearly against my back as I scoot a bit closer, even though we’re still facing opposite sides. I let my hand fall in the space between us, wondering if he’ll notice and grab it. (Of course he’ll notice. He’s a vampire. It’s just a matter of if he’s willing to take it.) (Maybe he’s repulsed by you, the small voice in my mind whispers. I tell it to fuck off. Just for once, I’d like to touch and hold my boyfriend without losing control. Just once.)

My prayers are answered as I feel his hand fall into mine. I lace my fingers into his to tell him it’s okay. And then I scoot a bit closer. I just wish he’d roll over, so I could, too. (Why won’t he roll over?) Maybe I’ll roll over, first. (He’s always the one to start things- not that I mind, since he always asks if it’s okay first. Maybe I’ll jumpstart this one.) Sleeping in the same bed with him is a first. Hell, sleeping over at his flat is a first, too. A lot of firsts tonight. We can add one more; the first time I start something. I’m going to roll over. (I swear I’m going to- I just need to take a breath first. And then make sure the voice stays gone for the time being. Then I will. I will, I will, I will.)

When I finally turn, I see that he’s already facing me, eyes open. Like he was watching me. Which I s’pose is fine, if not a little creepy. (Then again, he watched me when we were in Watford, too. Guess I did, as well, if I’m honest.) I look into his eyes now, seeing nothing but patience in them. (A large juxtaposition to the old Baz who told me to piss off whenever he got the chance.) He tugs me a little closer, and I oblige. My heart constricts out of… something. (Fear, love, anxiousness- I’ve no bloody clue.) But whatever it is is making me feel a bit crackers, so I take a deep breath and lean into the feeling. Tell myself that it’s alright to feel like this. That I’m on the arms of someone who I care about - who cares about me - very much. I’m safe in his arms, and he’s not going anywhere. He arches a perfect brow. 

“Is this okay?” He whispers. I smile back and nod me head. He doesn’t look convinced, though, so I get even closer and nudge his nose with mine. (I love his crooked nose. It reminds me that even through all of the bad stuff in the past, he’s still choosing to be with me. His terrible boyfriend.) I lace our legs together too, for emphasis. He smiles a bit and exhales. (From release, I’d suppose.) (I hate that my boyfriend thinks he needs permission to touch me. Just fucking touch me like I’m not broken.) (I am broken, and I s’pose it’s good that he touches me like it. I just… I guess I just wish I wasn’t so he wouldn’t have to.)

We’re laying with our arms wrapped around each other, my head on his chest and his face in my hair. We’re like this for a long while, and just as I’m starting to fall asleep, Baz says something. “Hey Simon?” He whispers. I mumble in response so he knows I’m listening. He’s quiet for a long time, and at first I think he’s fallen asleep. Then he says, “I love you,” and suddenly I’m thinking a lot of things. “You don’t have to say anything. I know that you probably don’t. I just… I thought you should know.” Instead of saying anything (because at this point, I don’t think I’m able to, I place a kiss at his jaw. “Is that okay?” He sounds so unsure of himself. (Someone loves me.) (Not just someone; Baz loves me.) I nod slowly, thinking if I say anything, my voice will come out as only a squeak. 

The word ‘fall’ is peculiar. We fall down. We fall and die. I fell down the stairs, and it hurt like a bloody fuck. Fall, fall, fall. It has a certain negative connotation, doesn’t it? Funny how we use it to say we’ve fallen in love. Like it hurts. But- this doesn’t hurt. Baz loving me, and me loving him (I wish I could just fucking say it)- it anything but hurts. It’s soft and consuming and lovely. Like laying down in a bed after a long day. Why don’t we say lay into love? We don’t crash into it, hurting the whole way through- it happens over time. Softly, sweetly. Through thick and thin. And when we finally feel it - when we finally know it - it’s like laying down, softly and slowly. 

I’ve lain into love with Baz. I like the sound of that.

#COC 2019 #Carry On Countdown #Simon #Simon Snow #Baz #Baz Pitch #Snowbaz #Snowbaz fanfic #Snowbaz fanfiction #Carry On #Rainbow Rowell #mlm #gay #love #firsts #fluff #mental health