#lira writes

[vakarians-babe]

Songfic Tag Game

Rules: Pick a song to accompany each of your fics or as many as you like. This might be the fic's inspiration or just pure vibes that you'd like to share with readers. Tag as many people as fics you feature (or do as you please!)

I was tagged by the lovely @shivunin! I really enjoyed this one. Tagging @bitchesofostwick @isayashai @zevrn @creaking-skull @ghostwise @shahrazade but as always, there is absolutely zero pressure.

I have 34 fics posted in total over on my AO3 page, so I'm not going to do all of them, but I will be doing more recent ones and some of my favorites. I will also say the songs and their connections to the fics are a mix of vibes and lyrics.

Not My Type: Darmas Pollaran, inveterate womanizer and expert sabacc player, is not Corso's favorite person--especially when it comes to his attitude towards a certain Smuggler Captain. (SWTOR, rated T, 1.5k)

Paper Planes by M.I.A.

What a Smuggler Deserves: Corso can't stand Taris, and that bottle of liquor isn't going to drink itself. If only he were better at not spilling his feelings the moment he's tipsy. (SWTOR, rated G, 1.7k)

Mona Lisa by Dominic Fike

Wayward Jedi: Talira Virali has been hiding on Nar Shaddaa since the Purge, but ten years is a long time to stay hidden, and time is about to be up, thanks to a certain Bracca scrapper turned Jedi. (J:FO, rated T, 1k)

Dear Dictator by Saint Motel

Remembered: Cal asks Lira why they still have their padawan braid, after all these years. The answer is complicated. (J:FO, rated T, 1.4k)

The War by SYML

Salving Touch: After Mizora's punishment, Wyll cannot sleep. Luckily enough, neither can Dearbhla. (BG3, rated G, 1.2k)

Final Days by Ben Thornewill

Frail Hope: A discovery on the road to the Harpers' ambush shakes Dearbhla. (BG3, rated T, 1.3k)

Small Hands by Radical Face

Waterproof: Things do not go as planned during Duke Ravengard's rescue mission. (BG3, rated T, 1.8k)

Cover Me in Roses by Holden Laurence

Lipstick: Iona Shepard wears lipstick, and it's an oh-so familiar shade of red. (ME, rated T, 1.3k)

Weights & Measures by Dry the River

What to Do: While Iona recovers, Garrus waits. (ME, rated G, 1k)

Siúil, a Rún by Clannad

Dancing Beneath the Holly Trees: Narmeleth likes to tease her lover. Lathuilas likes to watch her dance. (LOTRO, rated G, 0.5k)

Rilke Song by aeseaes

Whither Thou Goest: Lathuilas is bound to Narmeleth, by love and by promise, but even she cannot follow her into the west. (LOTRO, rated T, 0.8k)

Tears of Nimrodel by Chance Thomas

The Lions of House Cousland: As cousins, the future of House Cousland rests upon Talvinder and Savreen. Now, with their family and their home in ashes, they must fight both the Darkspawn and their grief in order to find that which they once thought a certainty: a future. (DA:O, rated M, 250k)

Masters of War by Judy Collins

Love Me Sweet: Varric wants Elodie. He wants them unreservedly, unashamedly, and unremittingly. (DA:2, rated E, 2.6k)

Love Me Tender by Elvis Presley

Elfroot and Tears: Both Cullen and La'ara are afraid of what the Arbor Wilds hold for them. (DA:I, rated T, 1.5k)

Bronwyn and Arondir by Bear McCreary

The Calling: Alistair may be king, but he is still a Grey Warden. And when the others begin to hear the Calling, he does too. (DA:O and DA:I, rated T, 1.2k)

Panic Attack by Liza Anne

#me tagging folks i know write good #hi whats up #tag game #laura writes #shivunin #songfic tag game #also very specifically i have to say dear dictator is an anakin and vader song and its there bc of the way vader's specter haunts lira #love me sweet is the only one that was actually inspired by the song accompanying it SDJKHBFSJKD #picking just one song for lions is also a huge challenge bc i have like a four hour playlist for it AND a fledgling playlist for the sequel #star wars #lotro #dragon age #mass effect #bg3

[celira]

day 13

"Camilla?"

"Mm?"

"Why can't you understand what the neighbors are saying?"

"I don't speak their language."

"But you can make your mouth move in the same shapes if you try."

"Yes. It takes time to learn properly, and I haven't had the time."

"What does learning properly mean?"

"Studying the grammar, learning the vocabulary - you need to learn enough words and how to put them in the right order."

"Like I learned from you."

"Yes. And then you acquired language incredibly quickly."

"What does that mean?"

"We still don't know."

"Why do they need to be in the right order?"

"So people can understand what your words mean. They mean different things in different combinations."

"Like - you don't like it when I say I don't feel so good."

"I don't feel so 'well'."

"But it means the same thing! As the other one. So the combination shouldn't matter."

"Sometimes you learn rules so you can break them."

"Then why do you still try to follow that rule?"

"Sometimes rules give us meaning."

"Camilla, why did that make you sad?"

"It didn't. Why are you thinking about not feeling good?"

"I don't like doing things you don't like."

"Are you going to do something I don't like?"

"Well, when we had breakfast–"

"Scratch that. Are you going to do something you don't want to tell me about?"

"I don't know yet."

"Will you talk to the Warden or Pyrrha about it?"

"I'll try."

"Okay."

"I love you, Camilla."

"Thanks."

#more dialogue while i don't have time to write properly - but it's good practice actually? #whumptober2023 #no.13 #quote #“I don't feel so good” #the locked tomb #fanfic #fanfiction #tlt fanfic #tlt fanfiction #the locked tomb fanfiction #lira does a thing #camilla hect #i am sad and so is camilla hect #tlt nona #nona the ninth

[thatfanfictionchick]

Obey Me - Home is not a vacation

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

Mammon x Lira[OC] @lann-de-lei ♥♥♥

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Kitchen sex; Oral sex; Vaginal sex;

Word count: 1198

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

The rays of early morning sun managed to hit Mammon square across the face, making him flinch and moan as he pulled on the blankets. His arms reached across the mattress, flailing against the open air before he finally accepted that his girlfriend was not there. Realizing that he would have to accept defeat he threw back the covers and rolled out of bed, groaning all the while. “Babyyy!” he whined as he trudged out of the bedroom and down the stairs of the cabin they had chosen to vacation to. “Babyyyyy!” Her laugh floated up to meet him. 

“Stop it!” she called back. He found her in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch in front of the big picture window with a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Like a neglected cat he batted the items away and crawled into her lap, his arms latching around her waist and his face buried in her neck. She burst into more laughter, dropping her book and struggling to lean far enough to set her mug down on the wooden side table. “Mammon!” She could barely breathe for how hard she was laughing.

“You left meee,” he whined. Her apology, uttered between frantic gasps, hardly seemed genuine. Eventually she cradled his head with one hand and rubbed his back with the other, kissing a line from his ear down his neck. “You’ve got some nerve,” he grumbled petulantly.

“If I make you breakfast before we leave will you forgive me?”

“I’d consider it.”

“Well then you have to get off my lap.”

“Nope. No deal.”

That set her off on another bout of laughter which was interrupted by an unmistakable gurgle. “C’mon,” she said. “You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s go eat.”

They walked to the kitchen hand-in-hand and while Lira started pulling ingredients out of the fridge Mammon got out the skillet and set the table. The cabin they were staying in was beautiful, and the view outside was breathtaking. From the upstairs bedroom window they could see the slope of the mountain down to a crystal blue lake. From the living room there was nothing but forest; trees as far as the eye could see. The kitchen had a truly spectacular view at sunrise since it faced a small rocky mountain slope. Lira liked to be up before the sun to sit in the kitchen as the golden rays slowly filled and warmed the entire space, just as it was beginning to do.

Mammon stopped, looking at Lira as the light made her positively glow. How did he get so lucky to meet her? How did he get so lucky that, of all the people, of all the demons, she’d fallen for him?

Lira was about to start cracking eggs into a bowl when she was suddenly seized from behind. She yelped in surprise, which turned into laughter as Mammon set her down on the edge of the scrubbed wooden table. Mammon took her face in his hands and kissed her, deep and hungry. She was wearing the t-shirt he’d worn the night before and a pair of shorts, which he quickly stripped from her lower half before dropping to his knees. Lira gripped his hair tightly; she wanted to ask what brought this about with such urgency but Mammon’s mouth was too busy to answer at any rate. His tongue almost tickled as it traced around her entrance again and again before moving up to undulate against her clit. It worked the nub into a stiff bead before slipping down and pushing inside her, wriggling in a way that made her gasp and her thighs squeeze around his head. As soon as she was ready, her slick starting to pool on the wood beneath her, he shot to his feet, his pants already pushed down around his thighs as he’d started stroking himself while tonguing her. He urged her down onto her back, his hands holding under her knees and spreading her legs farther as his aching cock slid easily inside her. Her pussy clenched and pulsed and he thrust with deep strokes, finding the soft spot that made her eyes roll back and her hips lift involuntarily, grinding into it mercilessly as he gathered her slick on his thumb and rolled it in smooth circles over her clit. Lira grabbed the edge of the table above her head, moving into the pleasure that was building. “Shiiit, Mammon~!”

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Always gotta make you feel good first.”

She came with a strangled cry, her back bent into a high arch. He gave her a few seconds to ride out the wave or her orgasm before pushing her knees up to her chest and fucking her hard to his own release.

Father, he wished every morning could be this good.

〖✰〗

“You remember the sunscreen this time?”

They stood at the edge of the river, the water sparkling in the early light. The sun was higher now and while the air was warmer the water would still be freezing. Not that that would stop them. In response Lira held up a tall bottle, twirling her finger as a means of telling Mammon to turn around. She carefully worked sunscreen over his broad shoulders and down his back, letting her hands dip under the edge of his swimsuit and slide around to his front.

“Hey, you,” he warned. She laughed.

“Turn around.” She did the same to his front, her fingers teasing as they outlined his muscles. Her bright hair glowed under the sun and he wanted to curl his fingers in it. Before he could say anything she grabbed a wide hat from the backseat of the car and plopped it on his head.

One last check: one two-person river float with headrests and drink holders, sunscreen, sunglasses, big hats, a floating waterproof bag for their phones and keys, and plenty of snacks and drinks. It would take two hours, give or take, to float down the river to where a second car was parked for them to drive back in. All the extras jumbling around the bottom, they picked up the river float and carried it to the edge of the water. Lira climbed in first and Mammon pushed it out into the water, clambering somewhat less gracefully in after. He screeched and squawked the entire time about how cold the water was, and when Lira laughed he dipped his hand in and sent a wave of water over her too. Screaming, she called for a truce, and after some questionable adjusting they settled into the float, holding hands and enjoying the mountain scenery as they slowly drifted by.

〖✰〗

That night, wrapped in a fluffy blanket and each other, they lay in bed watching the flitting images on the TV across the room.

“Do we have to go back?” Mammon asked, his head on her chest with her fingers combing through his hair.

“‘Fraid so,” Lira replied, pressing a kiss to his crown. He made a sound of distaste and wrapped his arm around her tighter. She laughed, “aw c’mon you know you miss home.”

“You’re home,” Mammon said, kissing her breast over her heart. “Wherever you are is where I need to be.”

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me mammon #obey me oc #lira #I love Lira she and Mammon are such a cute couple for real :') #HEY LOOK I *CAN* STILL WRITE WHO KNEW #certainly not me #literally the last to know

[kalluzeb4later]

Writing Kalluzeb Every Day for a Year - Day 10

Idea : (Some people aren't adjusting to retirement as well as they thought) Semi-retired

-

Zeb had to admit that Kal's idea of being the local handyman was a good idea. All those years of working on ships and around bases made him very knowledgeable and well... handy around the place. It kept him busy while not being a great amount of pressure. The local tech was similar enough to Lasan and the rest of the galaxy to be familiar muscle memory while the unique Lira San stuff provided a new challenge for his mind.

It also helped him stay in touch with his neighbors without having to come up with his own excuse to leave his porch and radio.

Kal also seemed to appreciate that it got him out of the garden while he was working.

The two of them just had...different taste in music.

Normally Kal could just ignore it but Zeb was sure he appreciated the peace and quiet while he was away too.

He seemed pretty eager to see Zeb off today in particular.

(Zeb comes back to find Kal alone with the radio but he also has a head set on and he has some sort of adapter on it. Zeb surprises him asking what he's doing. Turns out Kal has been using the radio to spy on the neighbors. XD. "Don't you listen to enough gossip." "The problem with gossip is that it is GOSSIP. If I listen to certain calls, I can CONFIRM what gossip is real and which is false." "You can take the agent out of Intelligence..." "The neighbor boy IS pregnant btw. If his boyfriend doesn't straighten out I'm gonna let his little habit slip to his mother and THEN we'll see." "Have you got Margaret's blue berry pie recipe yet?" "Not yet.")

#kalluzeb #writing kalluzeb every day for a year #kalluzeb year #Kalluzeb year 2023 #fic #notes #unfinished #come back to this one #come back later #lira san life #lira san #retirement

[horatio-fig]

Burns Night ya’ll. Have a shit comic. 

Want more from Scottish Lira San? Here’s a Hogmanay fic. 

#My dad used to make us eat Haggis every Burns Night and I’m still not over it #so obviously I will be writing a little fic about it #scottish Lira San fic #alexsandr kallus #Garazeb Orrelios #its his birthday not his deathday but whos cares really

[dovaeh]

random dialogue prompts. "i see a lot of myself in you." 🥺 @ulfhrafnx.

with all they've been through and all that they've accomplished, it means more to maesena than she can even think to express. and she wonders if lira understands how much of an impact she's had. the absolute pathetic state she was in before being taken in by the companions has never been lost on her — battered from helgen's horrors and half the time afraid of the sharp end of her sword, a killer better suited for deer and wolves rather than men and dragons.

and despite that, lira saw something in her that seemed worth taking on. even before there came the call from the sky, even before the dragon within her woke. as cold as the wolf had been in the beginning, pushing maesena to the point that she felt she might literally break, it had all been done in faith. with belief and, eventually, love. which made her successes as much lira's as her own.

even when lira wasn't there, she was there. in the way maesena moved through the battlefield, in every swing of her sword. she was mae's pounding heart as she plunged the sword into alduin's throat. through the sleepless nights, through training until her hands bled, through tears and sweat, lira was there.

so how could she not be part of maesena now? the dragonborn had purposely taken pieces of her wolf mother and planted them within herself like seeds, blooming her into a woman and warrior she was proud to have become: strong, capable, steadfast.

there's this burning in her throat as she takes in the weight of the words, gratitude and pride swelling to meet what shines in lira's voice, and she feels her eyes prickling and going blurry. although she isn't afraid to cry in front of her, she still turns to half hide her face, lips thinning both from her beaming smile and the tears threatening her eyes.

"you honor me." she says after a while, having to swallow some of the thickness from her voice before meeting her gaze again. "i have always admired you greatly... even when you were yelling at me during trainings." she grins a little wider. "it means more than i can say."

#OBVIOUSLY i got carried away #why would u do this to me #it's too introspective but i had to i just have so many thoughts and feelings and obviously this is just writing out that one post i made #a while back #how lira is everything and mae wouldn't be mae without her #mmmm that's some good shit ( good shit ) #* 𝓋. tes v skyrim‚ interactions. #* 𝓋. tes v skyrim‚ drabbles. #* 𝓈. regarding‚ lira svanhildsdóttir.

[s1byls]

all my girls ~generally~ exist in the same universe and often know each other.

#bree and mae are friendly ( if only by association bc ben and lira ) #corin and bree are close but mae doesn't like corin #imetys and minerva have hooked up and will continue to do so #isobelle knows minerva against her will #i think it's fun and funky #because when im not here writing i just play with them in my brain like little dolls

[smol-feralgremlin]

FebruarOC Day 10: Jem

we are pretending I did this on time

A lot of people assumed donkeys, and subsequently mules, were very stubborn and hard-headed individuals. Jem had spent his entire life around mules and had two of his own, mules were actually really sweet when raised right, and donkeys were just grumpy most of the time. No. The most stubborn beings in existence were two of his friends, Lira and Anthron.

Loud thwacking filled the yard as Lira waled on Anthron with her staff, only blocked from actually hitting him as Anthron blocked her with a staff of his own. Each time he blocked a hit, he made some comment on her form or that wasn’t part of the drill he was trying to teach her before she swung at him again with  her teeth bared in a snarl. From experience, Jem knew this would go on for a good while before Lira tired enough to actually listen to the lesson. She demanded these kinds of lessons from him, as part of repayment for what the Templars had done to her, and seeing as Anthron’s family was littered with Templars, that made him the one to partake in this. And Anthron took that as a challenge. Because they were both stubborn idiots about this, Jem did what work he could from a corner of the practice yard to mediate between them when necessary. 

Every time Jem looked up to see them glaring at each other when they locked their staffs together he was reminded of mountain goats. 

Maybe if he attached rams horns to their heads and let them argue out their differences and actually butt heads, it would knock some sort of sense and understanding into them. Then again he swore their skulls were made of stone, so it was unlikely.

Instead he sighed and stretched, his back and shoulders cracking as he did so. Guiltily, he closed his book and went for an actual walk around the yard, stretching as he did so. If his Ma had caught him hunched over his book and cracking like popping corn when he stretched she’d have had a fit. She already got squinty when either he, his brothers, or sisters cracked their knuckles. Gods of tree and stone save him if she detected that any slight hunch he might have came from all the studying and such that he did, or that he was straining his wrists. Actually, not even the gods would be able to save him from his mother. 

Lira yelped and Jem turned to see Anthron had knocked her off her feet and was now standing on ehr staff so she couldn’t use it to hit him anymore.

“I told you I wanted you to try hand to hand combat,” Anthron said while Lira tried to yank her staff from under his foot, “for this reason exactly. What happens if you can’t use your staff? If you don’t learn to fight without it you’ll be a helpless little girl to anyone who-”

“Anth, ease off on the lecture a little,” Jem called out as he learned against the split rail fence that separated sand from grass. “And Lira, why don’t you actually give hand to hand a chance. He’s got something of a point there.”

“The only reason I don’t have my staff currently is because this great lump of-” Lira broke off her words as she leapt up and threw a punch. Jem knew it wasn’t going to connect even before Anthron caught her fist.

“It’s a start, but tucking your thumb in like this is going to end up with you being laughed out of any back alley brawl as you nurse a broken thumb.”

Jem shook his head as Lira tried to throw another wild punch. This was going to turn into a long lesson for her.

#februaroc #februaroc 2023 #writeblr #gremlin writing #Revenge of the Kashir #Jem #Anthron #Lira

[sirensquadron]

I have to revamp the first half of the outline because Lira doesn't actually know her dad is alive until the end of book One

#it's FINE it's minor changes but like I do feel a little like this outline will never be done #it would be finished faster if I stopped doing it in google docs and started doing it on paper probably but whatever 🤷 #i just want to get to real writing but I have to know what happens first 😭😭😭 #writing lb #pippa.txt #give Lira a single win in book one ill give her one (1) break #lira rieekan

[celira]

day 12

"Pyrrha?"

"..."

"Pyrrha, are you asleep?"

"... kiddie, how would I be able to answer that question if I were asleep?"

"You can do lots of things, Pyrrha."

"Communicating while unconscious isn't one of them. On second thought, that's not entirely– better question: why aren't you asleep, Nums?"

"I've slept so much. You miss all kinds of things happening when you're asleep. I didn't want to be the only one sleeping."

"Only one?"

"Camilla is sitting in the bathtub again."

"How long has she been there?"

"I don't know, Pyrrha. I missed that because I was asleep, too. See?"

"Yeah, I see. You need your sleep, though – it helps you with your memory."

"But you haven't slept yet today. I don't see why I have to."

"I haven't slept in days, but who's counting? You're a growing kid. The only growing I'm doing is sideways."

"You don't grow sideways!"

"You don't know that. Maybe I just haven't tried hard enough."

“Pyrrha.”

“Nona.” 

“If it helps you with your memory, does it help you forget things or help you remember?”

"Depends on what you need more help with.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Are we going to help Camilla?”

“We can’t help her right now, kiddie.”

#ironically i fell asleep while writing this on the train #whumptober2023 #no.12 #lyric #trope #“i haven't slept in days but who's counting?” #insomnia #the locked tomb #fanfic #fanfiction #tlt fanfic #tlt fanfiction #the locked tomb fanfiction #lira does a thing #camilla hect #i am sad and so is camilla hect #tlt nona #pyrrha dve #nona the ninth

[ulfhrafnx]

lira taking over as chieftain of járnviðr after angrboda. :’) great grandma taking her under her wing like she should have from the start , if odin let this family have nice things. i love that no matter how far she roams , her path will inevitably lead her home.

#☽✦☾ | wishlist. #`` i am begging y’all to give me an angrboda to write with #and to also make blogs for loki’s monster children #lira deserves to meet fenrir #she deserves to meet her papa and uncle too

[kalluzeb4later]

Writing Kalluzeb Every Day for a Year - Day 25

Idea: (February Writing Challenge 2023: Day 7 – First Attempt)

In Kallus’ defense, meilooruns are not native to Lira San.

If anything he should be commended for getting anything to grow at all on an entirely new planet that was likely hostile to new species.

Kallus looked down sadly at his small basket of strangely shaped, sized, and different colored fruits. How he managed to get them the wrong colors was beyond him.

He heaved a great sigh and took the fruits of his labor into the house to face Zeb’s and Chava’s judgement.

At least it’ll be a good laugh for them.

#kalluzeb #writing kalluzeb every day for a year #valentines writing challenge #first attempt #firsts #this is a short one #Lira San #meiloorun #gardening #farming fruit is hard y'all #alexsandr kallus

[jessequinnfirstofhername]

The Rules:

Every twenty-four hours there will be another round. After every round, the ship in last place will be eliminated.

If there are multiple ships tying for last place, there will be a special elimination round. In these rounds, every ship in last place will be eliminated, even if all the ships have tied equally.

When there are only two ships remaining, they will face off against one another in a week-long poll to determine the victor.

If the ship that you consider the best isn't listed here, hit the 'you forgot the best ship' option and reply to this post with the overlooked ship. The ship with the highest 'write-in' votes will be added to the next round. Unless the 'you forgot the best ship' option is the least voted for, in which case it will be eliminated.Welcome to the fray, Kalluzeb!

This is all for fun. Don't take it too seriously ;)

It's sadly time for Kalluzeb to retire to Lira San, buy a nice house with a white picket fence, and adopt 2.5 kids and a golden retriever. Which is exactly the same as what they did in canon. Safe travels, boys.

Things are heating up, Round Six!

#star wars #stormpilot #finnpoe #obikin #scoundress #hanleia #codywan #rebelcaptain #kanera #dinluke #star wars prequels #star wars the clone wars #star wars rebels #rogue one #star wars original trilogy #the mandalorian #star wars sequel trilogy #best star wars ship #round six

[pienaur]

!! TW EARTHQUAKE !!

As you may have heard, there has been a major earthquake (7.7 magnitude) in southeastern Turkey. The earthquake lasted for 40-45 seconds and there are 1710 buildings that demolished.

If you're at the age of 18 or older and want to help, you can help by donating from AFAD's website (Disaster and Emergency Management Presidency of Turkey) Here is how to do it with pictures

There's also AHBAP Derneği, a very well known organization for help, and you can see how to donate them from THIS post made by @meliswiftie13

link: https://www.afad.gov.tr/depremkampanyasi2

This is the official website

I couldn't find how to donate in the English page, so I turned it into Turkish like this. I translated what each thing says but you could use Google translate just to make sure.

This page will appear. Then we click "Gündem (Order of the day)" (It's on the up right)

After we click "Gündem" we click "Yardım Kampanyaları" which means "Aid campaigns"

When we click, we see the list of aid campaigns. The one for the earthquake is on top of the list (As you can see the date is today)

(Dates are written as day/month/year in Turkish)

"Deprem Bağışları" aka "Earthquake Donations"

You can write the number you would like to donate and change the currency (and even 1 euro would be so much help since it's equal to 20 Turkish liras)

Then in this page you write:

Your name Your Last Name (not necessary)

Your phone number (not necessary)

Your E-mail (not necessary)

The amount you want to donate (and the money currency is next to it)

in the exact order (again, if it's confusing, you could use translation)

This part down below is sort of the "I read and I accept" part so I translated what it was about and what it says in this page:

What does KVKK approval mean? Explicit consent within the framework of the law means that the person gives his/her consent to the processing of his/her data, voluntarily or upon request from the other party.

Information and Approval Text About the Personal Data Protection Law (KVKK) The information shared by the donors for donation purposes can only be recorded, stored, preserved, rearranged by system administrators assigned by AFAD and who have the right to access and view the system, and they are legally willing to request these personal data. It can be shared with authorized institutions and, under the conditions stipulated by KVKK, it can be transferred to third parties, transferred, classified and deleted. Information shared by individuals while making a donation cannot be shared with any third party, institution and organization for any reason, and this information cannot be disclosed with any other exception, unless a situation develops that requires disclosure of this information by judicial decision and/or legal regulations, without the consent of the individuals.

If you're okay with what you read here, you click "evet (yes)" and then "onayla (confirm)"

For safety reasons I'm not goint to be sharing the last page (due to the fact that it has my personal information) but all you gotta do is to click "Gönder (send)"

And after you verify the payment from your card it's all done

Thank you for your time

#turkey #turkey earthquake #earthquake #earthquake in turkey #help turkey

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 6)

In which Astarion basically says "Murder is okay, but it's not okay to disrespect my wife". A lot of swearing in this one, be warned - also Astarion's bares his claws.

So - ARE YOU READY FOR ANOTHER ONE?? I'm honestly so tired, at the moment, it's doing my job at day, being a fanfic writer and servant to the fandom at night. Which results in poor sleep schedule and eating habits. Didn't even get to keep playing for a few days. But I love all the things happening, all the content people create and people liking my content as well - after all I am just as prone to flattery as Astarion is.

Also I should make a post where I will link all chapters - I will do that probably tonight or tomorrow - depending on how quick writing the next part will be.

You know the drill by now, you can already continue reading on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

Astarion quickly made to take everyone’s drink orders. When Daegin opted to get off his stool and get himself another beer and almost fell off it, Eodin just about caught him and convinced him to take a round of water. So the dwarf complained and made to rest his head on the table.

Before Astarion left for the bar he threw a quick questioning glance at you, with it asking if it would be okay to leave you for a few moments. You nodded slightly and smiled reassuringly at him but in fact you were dreading to be alone with these people even though they were your friends.

When Lira offered to go with him to help carry everything your heart sank even deeper. Closing your eyes for a short moment, you steeled yourself for the words that would definitely be had once Astarion and Lira would be out of earshot. At least they would think that, when you were pretty sure Astarion would use every one of his heightened vampiric and elven senses to not miss a single word.

When you opened your eyes again you saw how Lira practically beamed at Astarion who was much taller than her. She didn’t even reach his shoulders. Lira had always been your closest friend in the group, she was truly a sweetheart – you had wondered how she did make such a formidable thief though since she seemed so honest and soft. You were more than sure Astarion already had a place in her heart, and she would use the moments she had to completely obliterate the vampire with many more questions about him and your relationship. The thought made you smile.

Astarion swiftly and elegantly managed to navigate through the now much bigger crowd to the bar while making sure the much smaller half-elf wasn’t pushed over by anyone in the pretty drunk crowd. You could barely make a step without bumping into people, so he softly touched her shoulder, kept his hand there lightly and motioned her to walk in front of him, so she wouldn’t be elbowed in the face by accident. She was completely oblivious to his show of polite chivalry since she had started bombarding him with questions about himself and Tav.

“Have you been together long? Did you save her like a hero on a white horse and she inevitably fell for you? Wait, you said, she saved you, what happened? Are you staying in Baldur’s Gate? We have to meet again some time, I need to know absolutely everything. You two are such a beautiful couple, Gods, you would have gorgeous babies! Does she make you happy? She seems so happy, I’ve never seen her this happy, you have to take good care of her for me, promise?” Astarion kept softly nudging her to get her to move to the bar while she basically kept walking backwards and blabbering. Since he was also trying to focus on the conversation that no doubt was going on at the table he had just left, he only gave pretty short answers to Lira: “A few months now. Once or twice, no horse needed though, they bite too much for my liking. Much longer story. We are. I’m sure we can. Uhm, thank you.” But the last few things Lira had said and asked made Astarion focus entirely on her. He looked at her expecting face and replied: “She makes me very happy and in a way, I didn’t think I could ever feel. And if I truly make her only a fraction as happy as she’s made me, I can be considered the luckiest man in all of Baldur’s Gate, nay, Faerun. And I’ll promise you I will do anything I can to keep her happy and safe as long as she’ll want me by her side.” The sudden change in tone and sincerity in his words stopped Lira in her rambling. “Wow”, she simply whispered silently and looked at Astarion. Then she suddenly jumped to give him a quick hug. Astarion almost made to step out of reach before her arms went around his waist, but he let it happen. The concept of hugging was still pretty new to him, except with you of course. And since he didn’t quite know how to react correctly in such a situation, he just kind of went to awkwardly pat the adorable half-elf on the back. This was still new, but he was pretty sure that it was nice and warmth filled his chest.

Lira let go off him, seemingly also surprised by her sudden outburst: “Sorry… I’m just so happy for her… and for you too!” She smiled warmly then turned around, since they were finally at the bar. “Soooo – I am certainly invited to the wedding, am I not? Can I be Tav’s Maid of Honor?” Astarion would have probably blushed would that have been possible for him. Did anyone ever make him this flustered in a matter of hours since meeting? Well, you probably, but other than that? He was released from questioning though when the barmaid came over and took their order. As they waited, Astarion decided he definitely liked this one of your friends and decided to be his best polite and interested self and asked Lira to tell him about herself.

You watched the two of them wander off into the crowd. Then you remembered the two rather grim faces in front of you and the one, that was already much too drunk to actually really notice anything.

Eodin had crossed the arms over his chest again, dropping the façade completely: “You have some nerve, Tav.” His tone was bitter. You see Miyena’s lip slightly curve into a smirk. “You disappear for months, leave us with a load of jobs, we can’t finish because we need your goddamn elven ass, since you are the best with sleight of hand and all. Which made us not only miss out on said jobs but also caused us to lose most of our clients, because now we seem to be the most unreliable band of thieves this city has ever seen! And then you reappear with this fucking elven twink and basically let him take you right on the fucking table like a slut!”, Eodin’s voice rises more and more during his rant while Miyena’s malicious smirk grows bigger. At least you can tell who it was who spewed so much venom into his ear. Daegin didn’t seem to react even though Eodin was practically shouting, in fact, you could hear some soft snoring.

You are completely dumbstruck. Had you expected a verbal ass-whooping? Absolutely! Had you expected this? Absolutely not! The feelings of guilt you had for abandoning your friends albeit there hadn’t been anything you could’ve done about this vanished in an instant. His words were pure venom and you could feel rage slowly rear inside you. Being angry about all of this was the one thing but it was the way he said it, especially with the intonation of your and Astarion’s elven heritage and calling you a slut? You were done with the niceties and you started to feel murderous.

You sucked on your teeth and mimicked Eodin’s aggressive stance, looked him straight in the eyes and asked: “Mind telling me, what exactly changed in the past months I wasn’t here? I get being angry and wanting an explanation. What I don’t get is you insulting me and Astarion – who you’ve never met before today, might I add – making a scene here in front of everyone and especially, what specifically makes this about me being an elf?” You saw how Miyena side-eyed him and raised an expectant eyebrow. “And you certainly didn’t think of me as slut, when I jerked you off and you were too drunk to get it up properly! You disgust me!” He winced at the mention of this particularly embarrassing night you had shared, which incidentally had been the last. You were disgusted by the memory. Bile was raising in your throat, making you gag – why did you ever think this guy deserved you at all?

“Well, I thought you weren’t like them – all fleeting attention, mysteries, riddles. I thought I knew you, Tav, I thought you were my friend… and I even thought you were more for some time. I thought you were one of us, so sweet and nice… So… indeed, Tav, what has changed?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Never had your elven heritage made any difference at all, especially since you’d grown up on the city streets and hadn’t had the comfort of a sheltered childhood far off in the woods in some elven enclave. His words hurt. You might’ve never seen him in the way he once wanted you, but he had been a close friend, an understanding friend. This angry and obviously jealous side was not only new but disgusting to you. Your eyes wandered over to Miyena who was still smirking. “Well, for starters”, you said “thinking really ever wasn’t your strong suit. You should leave that to the others. Ah, but seems you already handed that duty over to Miyena here.” You turned to the tiefling and threw her a death glare: “Don’t think I don’t see how you’ve been smirking and side-eyeing Eodin the whole time, you bitch. You always wanted everything for yourself. Go ahead, you can have him, his limp-dick and all loot and coin you get from your jobs, I don’t care.” The tiefling woman looked ready to throw daggers at you. Eodin opened his mouth, now having at least the decency to look the slightest bit guilty, but you lifted your hand before he could speak and continued: “If all it takes for you to turn against me and discriminate me is being away for a few months, then consider everything – our work friendship, our work arrangement – separated. You were always very impressionable, but never would I have thought you were so easy to turn into a hot toxic pile of garbage. Go right on with Miyena, but be careful, she was already eyeing Astarion, because she always wants what others have.” And with that you ended your spiteful little speech.

The man and the tiefling looked at each other for a second, then continued to stare angrily at you. A year back, you ‘d never would have called them out on their bullshit, you had indeed changed. Back then you would have eaten up the shame and would have given in to your strong people-pleasing tendency. But you were done taking the world’s and everyone’s shit and be thankful for mere scraps they threw you, you deserved better than this – something your vampiric soulmate had taught you. “Now, you can fuck off or you can stay and be nice for the night because I don’t want to spoil the evening for Lira and Daegin”, you added when neither of them said anything.

This suddenly seemed to get Miyena and Eodin out of their stupor. Miyena simply hissed at you, when Eodin spat: “Why don’t you fuck off, you and that arrogant elven prick. Who is he really anyway, did you sell yourself off to him as a plaything or mistress or something? You don’t belong…”

A glint of silver and there was a blade at each Miyena’s and Eodin’s throat. Astarion was standing impossibly close behind them both, his arms around each of their shoulders. He’d masterfully had sneaked up behind them. To others, it would have looked simply like a drunken hug from afar – only the two daggers pressing against their necks were distracting from that. “I’d advise you to hold very still or you’ll find out exactly how prickly I can be”, Astarion whispered to them in a voice that was actually rather made for candle light and dark bedrooms, his red eyes were glinting with fury. The tiefling slightly hissed at him but tensed, Eodin just whimpered.

“Now, I really did not appreciate your tone and how you spoke to my partner. But seeing as I was enjoying myself so much tonight, I’m giving you one more chance. You can be nice little puppies now and be polite and graceful for the rest of the evening. And after tonight I never want to see a shred of you again”, he whispered to them hoarsely, his mouth wandering from Eodin’s ear to Miyena’s and back again. The daggers pressed slightly harder against their throats now.

“Or”, Astarion drawled and smiled wickedly “you can fuck off right now, just as my lovely lady here proposed. Choose as you wish but behave or I will splatter you all over the walls.” You swallowed hard, did he have to be this threatening and with that tone in his voice. In a very twisted way, you enjoyed what was happening way too much. Gods, you loved when Astarion became all protective. And something wild and dark in you enjoyed his threatening, predatory demeanor. The softest gasp left your mouth and you squeezed your thighs together – hard. This was not the time to get aroused. Astarion heard though and his eyebrow shot up, his eyes flicking to yours for a split second and his signature smirk found its way back on his lips.

“What will it be now?”, he then whispered to his two captives again “I wouldn’t want to end the night in bloodshed – well, maybe a little.” He grinned baring his fangs and licked over his lips slowly. Eodin turned completely pale and Miyena’s eyes widened.

“Go… let us go”, the man whispered and started to struggle against Astarion’s hold while trying to not get knicked by the knife at his throat.

“Then have it your way”, Astarion sneered and in one swift movement withdrew his daggers, turned them around and pushed them off into the crowd - hard. They stumbled away, bumping into the people around them but quickly made their way away from you.

Astarion rolled his shoulders and sighed dramatically, then looked at you grinning: “Ah, darling, so good to be alone with you again, don’t you think?” His eyes wandered down your body and he licked his lips again. “Nothing like a little drama and knife play to spice up the night, am I right?” His red eyes turned even darker with an impossible hunger shining in them. You gulped, Daegin snored.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of song and laughter #dont you love a protective soulmate? #posted with a glass of whiskey on the side #he even makes death threats sexy #rawr #poro fics

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — One

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none for this chapter, just Tom being grumpy and hating the world

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— A/N: This is a fic that was commissioned by @localravenclaw as a gift for @esolean 💕 It's going to be a bit of a rollercoaster, with angst and fluff and smut galore. I plan to post twice a week, Mondays and Fridays. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you will have fun reading it, my dears! 💚

I

Tom was twenty-five. It had been seven years since he graduated from Hogwarts, and just as many since he started working at Borgin and Burkes. Now, he found himself in a sweltering place with the world passing him by. Trapped, for his sins, in a moving metal coffin. If this was hell, it looked like rolling hills, houses nestled in the fog, narrow rows of poplars and puffs of grazing sheep, all set to the tune of clinking chains and carriage shuffles. He hated this assignment.

After taking the train from London to Dover, he caught the ferry that sailed to Calais, and from there took a series of coaches and trains meant to take him on to Italy. To Rome. They had just stopped in Lyon to pick up more passengers, and now they were on their way again.

He had fought with Burke regarding the logistics of the whole thing. Why couldn’t he just use Floo like a normal wizard? But the miserable old stoat said he’d sooner trust muggle transportation than Tom’s pronunciation of Italian or French — and besides, was Floo even networked all the way down there? It didn’t matter anymore.

Tom was convinced it was all done to save costs, and perhaps for Burke to not have to call in any favours. So off he went with one measly suitcase and two billfolds of franks and lira — all of which were merely enchanted oak leaves. They would inevitably transfigure back to their original form in a couple of weeks or so, but by then Tom should be long gone. Who said money didn’t grow on trees?

He tried to distract himself from all this misery by checking his notes again. His little book cracked open, snapping at the spine, and its insides were revealed to him like a cadaver cut through with a black spidery scrawl. It was a list of books and authors, with observations added vertically on the side to save space.

“The Secrets of Wisdom, N. Tamisso 1650 — high priority, any edition. The Lost Word, B. Trevisan 1661 — low priority, optional. Delomelanicon (or The Invocation of Darkness), A. Torchia 1666 — first edition, mandatory.” The latter word was underlined three times. His notes continued with the instructions Burke had given. “Check the rare book dealers, antiquaries, private collectors if necessary. If you can not find it, find out who can. If they will not sell it, take it anyway.”

Tom’s lip curled. Whatever joy there was in being away from the squalor of Knockturn Alley was soiled by what he had to do in Rome. It wasn’t the books he minded, and in fact, he quite admired Burke’s taste in this matter. But to be flung so far away from home on such short notice, and for such a length of time, was pitiful to him. The heir of Slytherin turned errand boy…

“Excuse-moi, est-ce que — Oh, bonjour.”

Tom turned his frown toward the sliding doors of the compartment, between which stood a young man in his twenties. Lanky brown locks fell into his eyes veiling the crinkles of a smile.

“Yes?” sighed Tom.

“I was wondering if this was free,” said the boy. And without waiting for an answer, he dragged his luggage inside — three suitcases, all leather with copper fittings looking ready to burst — and closed the doors behind him.

“I suppose it is,” mumbled Tom. He subtly closed his notebook and tucked it back into the messenger bag at his feet while he kept track of the stranger from the corner of his eyes.

The fine quality of the newcomer’s clothes was somewhat disguised by how carelessly they hung around him. His white and starched shirt was loosened at the top, revealing a hint of tanned skin sprinkled with sparse curls. A golden pin kept a red and blue striped tie affixed to it, and around his pinky finger was a silver ring thickly laid with marcasites and crowned with a malachite stone. His lips were full and purple-stained from wine. His eyes were a bright blue. Judging by his pressed trousers and clean leather shoes, he was a gentleman who had arrived at the station by car — or, at least, he was the spoilt brat of one.

“Clement,” the boy grinned, extending his hand.

“Tom,” he replied, giving him a firm, brief shake.

“I’m on my way to Rome!” Clement sighed, plopping down onto the seat opposite him. Almost immediately, he cracked open a cigarette case and started fishing for a lighter in his trouser pocket. His luggage lay strewn all around the floor, suitcases filled with junk, no doubt. “You?”

“The same,” Tom said and instantly regretted sharing anything at all. With people like these — the overly friendly types — it was best to not encourage conversation.

“Oh, magnificent. Vacation?”

“Work.”

“How sad,” tutted Clement as he popped a cigarette between his lips. He offered one to Tom as well.

“Don’t smoke.”

“Ah.”

He closed the case with a loud click and set it on the table between them. With a smooth, almost theatrical motion, he lit up his pocket lighter — silver, older than him, probably an heirloom, engraved with an elaborate floral motif featuring a fleur-de-lis — and let the flame dance on the tip of his cigarette until he was satisfied.

“Don’t talk much, either,” the boy chuckled. He kept his eyes on Tom as he took a drag, then started puffing away without a care. He attempted to blow rings of smoke but failed. “What do you use your mouth for, then?”

“Cursing, mostly.”

Clement laughed. “The same!”

Tom doubted it.

The compartment soon filled with smoke, and the narrow window open at the top only made it dance around inside. The muggy summer fumes were driving Tom to madness already, and he could only hope the train moved fast enough to clear the air. But as they went further into the rural parts of France, the scent of sheep took over. Maybe it’s not too late to try to Apparate directly at the station, he thought.

“So, what do you do?” asked the French boy, vowels gliding altogether in one breath between his lips. His arm extended elegantly to tap the ash into a cheap tray by the window.

It took Tom a moment to look at him and answer. “I’m in, er, publishing.”

“Truly?” he said, excited enough to lean over the table. “That’s magnificent. I intend to be published too.”

“Oh? What do you write?”

“Poesies.”

“Poetry? Ah, not my area, I’m afraid.”

“But you must know some people…”

Tom wanted to tell him that if he were any good he’d have found a publisher already, but intuition told him to temper himself.

“I might,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’m full up at the moment.”

The boy puffed away nervously as he tapped the round gemstone of his ring against the window, and kept his eyes on him. Tom turned to watch the view rolling past them, seeing without seeing. The sensation of being watched was as familiar as it was discomforting. It crawled down his thin cheeks, his narrow neck, and from there sank into his clothes like sweat. He gazed briefly at the tapping ring from the corner of his eyes in irritation, before focusing away again. For a few moments, he thought he’d successfully ended their conversation.

“Well, I’m in show business,” Clement said instead, grinning brilliantly. There was a gap between his first incisors that made him look boyish and pure. “Theatre.”

“Your parents must be very happy.”

“No,” he laughed. “Miserable. But,” he shrugged, “it is not their decision.”

Tom hummed and said nothing else.

“Your parents are happy with your job, no? You go on important business trips to France, to Rome, and… erm. Well, it is a good job, for sure. Makes them proud, yes?”

Whatever sunshine beamed through the window was chilled and clouded by the glare in Tom’s dark eyes. Why did this bothersome Frenchman have to talk to him? He wasn’t going to keep doing it the whole way to Rome, surely…

“I wouldn’t know,” he finally said. “They’re dead.”

“Oh… Oh, I am so sorry...”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. He didn’t think Clement had heard him, but he wouldn’t care even if he did.

The boy pulled the ashtray closer and put out his cigarette, then leaned his head against the glass. Fidgeting, he held the silver case in his hands and clicked it open and closed, open and closed… He did that for quite a while.

Tom could feel him staring. Could even sense to some extent the messy thoughts inside that head: curiosity, intrigue, and joy.

What could be joyful about that moment?

Well, if Tom was being honest, this wasn’t the first time he’d had such an effect on people. Memories of Burke’s clients came back to him accompanied by the customary shiver down his spine. Clement had the same flippant merriment about him that all the others did, those careless old witches and wizards. That unguarded look of innocence surrounded by the fog of greed. An airy absence of thought and feeling. Must’ve been the side effect of all that money.

Tom had once envied such people. Had even flattered himself with the knowledge that he, however distantly, was one of them. What greater destiny than to be born to glorious old blood? What greater tragedy than to be fallen from it…? He could even remember, with much clarity and shame, how he’d spent several months during his third year obsessing over the Gaunts and Riddles, chasing up on genealogies, and smattering the back pages of his diary with heraldic designs.

But the more he understood the upper classes — their uselessness, their inborn idiocy, their paradoxical sense of superiority which stood impervious to anything reality threw at them — the more he grew to hate them.

“I am sorry if I offended…” said Clement rather softly. “Sometimes, I talk too much.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice.”

“No, but I do, I do…”

Tom had overshot his subtleties, apparently.

“So you are not happy with your job? Forgive me for asking…”

“No, it’s quite alright.”

“A pity, you know…”

“Why?”

“To not like it.”

“Oh, it’s not too much trouble most of the time. Why? Do you like your job?”

“But of course!” he said, blue eyes twinkling.

Tom cast a scathing look his way. How strange… He couldn’t imagine enjoying any form of employment — other than the coveted post of DADA professor at Hogwarts.

“Why are you in Rome, then?” Tom asked.

“On vacation. I am, erm, meeting a friend,” he whispered with a grin.

“A girlfriend?” asked Tom with a smirk.

Clement shook his head and giggled. “A boy friend.”

Tom’s brows nearly reached his hairline. He’d never heard of such things being bandied about quite that openly before, at least not in England. Clement seemed not to care. Must’ve been a habit of his, as he seemed to not care about much at all other than enjoying life.

“You have a fun vacation ahead of you, then.”

“More than you know,” he winked.

Tom curled his nose at that and sat back, away from the whole conversation. But Clement leaned closer, arms braced over the table lazily, eyes flashing excitedly.

“We will rob this old fool, and run with his money.”

That captured Tom’s attention again. The boy was waiting eagerly for his reaction, and not a thought ran through his head that Tom might’ve been untrustworthy. Of course, far be it from him to ruin someone else’s fun, but the scenario Clement proposed was too absurd to be believed.

So what else could Tom do but laugh? The sound of it filled the cabin, and so out of use were those muscles that his cheeks began to ache. The sight of it seemed to delight young Clement. He leaned back and gave another one of his brilliant smiles.

“You can join us, if you like,” he offered smoothly.

“Sorry,” said Tom, his cheeks still flushed. “My schedule is full.”

“Oh, pity, pity… You would like my friend, I think. His name is Donatien. He is more serious, like you.”

“Is that so,” said Tom distractedly.

“By the way, what is your hotel?”

II

They entered Rome on a train that ran six hours late, and wobbled on its tracks, and stank of mouldy cheese and wine rust.

Clement talked most of the way there, and seemed to be satisfied with Tom mostly reacting with brief hums and tilted smiles. They even exchanged gifts. The French boy was enchanted by what was, in Tom’s estimation, a fairly average switchblade. He’d only taken it out to peel an orange. It was something he’d bought in London right before his seventh year, and although it was quite plain, it did have some delicate embellishments on its ivory handle of two writhing snakes. That seemed to appeal to Clement, who offered his own blade in exchange — a Swiss army knife that also had a screwdriver and bottle opener tucked in its red body. Considering it a more efficient deal, Tom shrugged and accepted the trade.

Faint details came up now and then about his plans with this Donatien, but most of it was lost in smoke and loud metallic rattles. As much as Tom hated flying on brooms, even he could agree it would’ve been preferable to this…

But at least he didn’t have to fear any Ministry or Aurors in these parts. Not any that were familiar with him, anyway. The Italians had their own Ministry of Magic, of course, but it was all the way down in Mirto, Sicily, and foreigners were a low priority for them. There were so many people from all over the world in Italy those days that it wasn’t worth keeping track of them all, or at least so Burke had told him.

The train slowed and pulled into the station, and pulled, and pulled… It groaned as if in pain. Clement took the jolt of inertia as it all came to a stop with cheerful clapping, and promptly got up to collect his bags.

“So, we are agreed?”

“Absolutely not agreed. Besides, I doubt my lodgings would be to your taste.”

“Ah Tom, you do not know my taste!”

“Very well, but best keep your complaints to a minimum once we get there.”

They struggled to get everything off the train with four suitcases between them. Tom was travelling light with just the one, about which Clement made some snide comment that he soon forgot, but he helped him anyway. His own belongings consisted of plain muggle clothes and some books that Burke wished him to barter with, if it came to that. Between the lines, and between Burke’s sparse and slimy brows, Tom understood he was expected to use his charms to get a bargain price — as per usual — but he did not intend to let some fat old antiquary put his grimy hands on him. Not this time. Besides, conversing with Clement had stained his dignity enough.

Being away on the continent had one advantage, at least: he was no longer under the vulturous watch of his employer.

Tom stepped out onto the platform, muscles sore from days of sitting down, and looked ahead as if he knew where he was going. People were chatting all around him, filling the cool hall with murmurs all the way up to its dome — some in German, some in French, others in variously accented English. Tom wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and picked up his suitcase to follow Clement, who was hunting for a trolley to load his luggage onto.

As soon as they stepped out onto the street, the heat of Rome in August hit Tom in the face like an oven door and he, frail and pallid thing, was not prepared for it. He squinted in displeasure, to Clement’s great amusement.

“This way, Tom!” he said as he popped on a pair of sunglasses. “I see a taxi!”

Tom had spent most of the journey brushing up on his Italian with the help of a conversation guide he picked up at the Gare du Nord. His extensive knowledge of Latin came in pretty handy. But now that he saw Clement handle things, perhaps he needn’t have bothered. His companion could easily direct the driver to the dingy old hotel Tom was staying at, the Gallienus on Via Domenichino, and chatted a bit more besides.

“Vacation in Rome often, then?” he asked.

“I just know some phrases,” Clement smiled. “You don’t need much with these people.”

The driver pretended not to understand the slight.

“Where do you want to have lunch, then?” Clement asked.

“Lunch? I’m certainly not in the mood, not now.”

“Oh come ooon…”

“You can eat on your own.”

“We can leave our stuff and take the taxi to this place I know on Via della Mercede. They make the best seafood, the best!”

It had not been until now, with this journey to somewhere far away, that Tom realised how limited his world had been at Hogwarts. He’d once felt equal parts ashamed and at a strange advantage next to the other Slytherins, his peers, all purebloods, for knowing both the magical and muggle worlds. Now, exiled for this assignment among strangers, it seemed to Tom as if he were starting life all over again. He looked out the window and everything was new, everything was strange. The buildings, the street, the people, even the clothes were different. The city, like London, was massive, but the streets were broader, blazing white. Some disappeared into little alleyways that slithered like dark serpents. Tom could easily see himself getting lost in such a place.

It was… humbling. He didn’t like it.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient #whew here we go 😭 #I dread to think of adapting the masterlist for this lol #I might make a separate post just for all of its chapters #there will be 40 in total