#most precious dark wizard in all the ages

[vyrid]

Hermione does not, in any way, overpower Tom Riddle, in any field. 

For evidence purposes, I'll use all of their achievements from book one to book 7. Instead of going on a long, disorganized tangent, we'll cut them down into 3 categories: studies, wit, and talent/strength. (I swear theres a difference between wit + studies.)

Studies --

During school, Hermione:

Was referred to as the brightest witch of her school year by Lupin

Got 10 OWLS (2 less than Bill and Charlie)

Prefect

She did get Slughorn's favour to an extent

During school, Tom Riddle:

Was referred to as the brightest kid to step into Hogwarts (possibly ever) by Albus Dumbledore

His grades are never revealed, but it is implied time and time again that he was a model student with a spotless record

Prefect and Headboy

Got a Special Award For Services to the School (hes a rat 😭)

Slughorn's favorite despite being Muggleborn and broke

There is not much I can work on in the studies department, because there isn't much text to support their performances involving the school directly, but it's obvious that Tom Riddle takes the cake. With every bullet point presented, Riddle's side of achievments is always 3x more impressive. I would like to add that he thrived in DADA and didn't shy away from any dark subjects, while Hermione was too scared to put thought into DADA + was too impatient with Divination (which I don't blame her for.)

If I had to compare them involving other characters, I would say that Tom Riddle is right up there with Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, while Hermione falls below tier near James Potter and Severus Snape.

If Severus Snape is no match for Tom Riddle (atleast when he was sane), then Hermione isn't a match for Severus. Snape was the BEST potions boy to go to Hogwarts -- it could be argued that Lily was also up there but yk shes dead so we don't care about that -- and he wasn't scared to apply his studies in the Dark Arts to real life. He was a smart kid, and even though he was below Tom Riddle in terms of brilliance, he was pretty darn smart. If Hermione cannot even reach his level, it's kind of silly to compare her to Tom Riddle.

Wit --

This one is a no brainer. The thing that sets them apart is their ability to think outside of the box.

Tom Riddle believed in a world of magic. He believed there was not a limit in which magic could be stopped. He achieved GREAT things simply by letting his trust in his own magic and the wonders of the Wizarding World lead him to his goals.

Hermione is close minded. She believes what she wants to believe, and most of her information comes from her precious, reliable books. She was too close minded to believe in divination. She was too close minded to sit back and think that, perhaps, house elves were made a certain way in which they ENJOYED labour (which is a whole other discussion), she was too close minded to believe in the Death Hallows. She was too close minded to think that there could possibly be a better, alternative recipe to a potion that didn't come straight from the school book. Her refusal to simply believe held her back from many opportunities.

Hermione is studious. Tom Riddle is BRILLIANT. Most of Hermione's knowledge comes from what she's been taught at school, but Tom Riddle went out and learned his own knowledge. And that's not a bad thing. Being studious and smart already sets her apart from many, many people.

But Tom Riddle wasn't just a studious guy. He was a genius, a prodigy, kind of a psychopath. He learned at a young age how and exactly when to use his strengths to get what he wants. He carried himself up as social ladder reserved solely for purebloods before even finding out his heritage as the descendant of Salazar Slytherin. He made a grown adult women scared of him as a child. He didn't use his wit for good, no, but was he pretty damn smart? Yeah.

Talent and Strength --

When Hermione was a kid, she learned to utilize what she had around her to catch up with other kids. She taught herself the syllabus before even getting into school and even learned spells without being taught by Professors! She was always the first one to get the spell right and was quick on her feet in an argument. She had a lot of brewing talent in her. It is not easy to be thrown into a whole new world but she took all of it with grace.

She was amazing at spells. When the trio ran away during the 7th book, she was their rock to lean on--for strength, for protection, for guidance. She knew every spell in the book to hide them away from Voldemort.

Her duelling skills, while not on par with Harry's, were pretty darn good, too. She could hold her own in a duel if she really needed to get out of their alive, using her quick thinking and sometimes, deception. Ex. (When she changed Harry's face to not resemble him when they got caught by snatchers.)

I give Hermione a lot of credit in the book. She was stronger than she needed to be at a young age, and she handled it better than most people did.

Tom Riddle on the other hand...

His talent is unmatched when it comes to anybody else.

He learned to get a hold on his magic and command it like the king that he is at the baby age of one digits. Because of all the instances at Wool's Orphanage, it isn't crazy to assume that this wasn't just a case of accidental magic. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew exactly how to call onto his magic to do his bidding. I don't think even Dumbledore could have said he was able to do that.

He was a parselmouth. It's less a talent and more a skill, but he used his hereditary trait to manipulate and use another type of magic to do what he wanted. Speaking to snakes is one thing--getting them to actually listen to you has to count for something.

He made horcruxes at the age of 16. That is a type of deadly, deadly magic. It is so forbidden it doesn't even fall under Forbidden magic because it's blasphemous to even think to do it. The fact that his magic was so strong that he could go through that process and come our alive is actually crazy.

He made a whole persona for himself, under Lord Voldemort, and got a whole race of people to follow him blindly. He wasn't even a pureblood and he still had them down on their knees. That's talent.

He could perform all forbidden curses with ease and not get drained. Moody says that you have to mean your intent and that nobody can *just* cast the curses. You have to have the willpower and strength to cast them--the fact that Voldemort could cast dozens of them at a time without thinking about it already sets him apart in strength from Hermione. I doubt even Snape, as he brilliant as he is, would dare push his limits like that.

I don't want this to get SUPER long, but here are some things I left out about Riddle and didn't know how to add on the list.

He found the long lost Chamber of Secrets during his time at Hogwarts. It was there for millions of years--he can't have been the ONLY descendant. It's safe to say he was one of the first people to open it and actually use it for his own gain.

He acquired the Elder Wand. I mean, so did Harry and Dumbledore, but it doesn't change the fact that he did. He was kind of dumb when he grew up and became all insane but that's impressive, too.

It is implied that he was at the brink of winning the war before Harry killed him on Halloween. If he hadn't taken the bait, maybe we'd see a world overrun by his power.

He didn't inspire fear in just Britain. He inspired fear across the world. Harry Potter was known across every wizarding community, such as Bulgaria. That means they must've known Voldemort too. There was lots of foreign people at the world cup, but every single one of them ran at the sight of the Death Eaters--which means they recognize his sign in some sort of way. The Gregrovitch family recognizes him, as does the German witch does when she sees him in folds in fear.

Sorry, this became a long rant of Voldemort's powers and not just a comparison, but it does go to show that Hermione being even near his level. It's just not plausible.

You're welcome to argue with me or correct me on my oversights! I haven't fact checked everything and I won't be offended if you correct some points. (Also there is a lot of typos and I have a cut on my finger so please dont kill me for my grammar 😭)

#Tom Riddle #hermione granger #tom riddle vs hermione granger #harry potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #severus snape #?? #in a way #he always shows up in these for some reason lmao hes just that iconic #power #comparison #harry potter discourse

[impishtubist]

Lord Chaos, it's me again

I need to know how you feel about blackinnon? I mean I love @arliedraws hc about Marlene, but I also think that sirius is the only character who can be shipped with basically anybody. And if you have some recs maybe 👉🏼👈🏼 because it's like they're extinguished :(

My Lord Chaos anon is back!

Arlie's hc about Marlene is fantastic. We don't have any canon evidence that the people who get name-dropped once (Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, etc) in the books are the same age as Sirius and the rest, so it's always refreshing when someone makes them part of a different generation. Hats off to Arlie!

Unfortunately...............................no I do not like Sirius/Marlene. 😂

I promise you, I really am not that precious about ships! I'm a multishipper, and Sirius truly is the fandom bicycle. Sirius/Remus, Sirius/James, Sirius/Rosmerta, Sirius/any of the Weasley boys, Sirius/anyone from Harry's generation, Sirius/Fleamont or anyone from his parents' generation, Sirius/Bellatrix........I mean, you really could convince me of just about anything, as long as it's well-written. And not just Sirius, but Remus as well. Remus/Kingsley, Remus/any of the Weasley boys, etc. I'm there for almost all the rare pairs and multiships.

HOWEVER. When I hate a ship, I hate a ship, and I cannot stand if it's even mentioned in a fic. Like someone could write the most perfect Prongsfoot fic that hits every single one of my sweet spots, but if they even hint that Remus/Tonks is a thing, I'm out. I can't. I refuse. So I'm the same way about Sirius/Marlene (and Lily/Remus, and Lily/Snape, and pretty much any other rare pair that crops up in a Sirius/James fic). I'm really sorry to let you down about that. I don't have any Sirius/Marlene recs because I simply will not read anything that even mentions them.

(Although................now that I'm thinking about it, I could see Sirius having a fling with Arlie's older!Marlene. Maybe she could show him a thing or two in bed, lol.)

Paradoxically, Sirius is also the only character in the series that I can see as being truly aroace and completely uninterested in relationships and/or sex. My guy has way more important things to do (fight dark wizards, raise his godson) and he Does Not Understand why everyone keeps looking at him like they want to climb him like a tree lmao.

Okay I'm done rambling, thank you and goodnight.

#imp speaks

[ask-elland-n-will]

Dark! William Au

Dark!William Abbott AU begins when he doesn't get his Hogwarts letter at the age of 11. It is a huge blow to his pureblood family. Even if they love Will, he still gets sent to a regular boarding school, far away from the Abbott manor while his parents try to keep their family's reputation afloat after the news appeared that their only son is a squib. William goes from feeling loved his whole life to being discarded by the entire wizarding community. 

He hates the boarding school he is at. He is not strong, he is too soft and kind for this place. He gets bullied a lot during his first year, and gets beat up so badly the first month that he has permanent scars. The only visible one is his forehead on the right side: he hides it behind the curtain of his hair. Will hopes he can convince his parents to transfer him somewhere else or study at home. But when the first year is over and he gets home for summer, he finds out that he has a little sister now and his parents are sure she'll be a great witch someday. There is no time for William. 

For the next 3 years, Will is spiraling down into self-loathing. He takes matters into his own hands at school, adapts, and immitates what everyone else does: kicking those who have fallen, plotting, manipulating. He becomes selfish to keep himself afloat and hurts people before they can hurt him. He is smart and he sells his knowledge. 

And then the ancient magic wakes up and he gets a letter from Hogwarts. His family is beyond relieved but William hates being home when that happens, and locks himself in a room, for hours practicing wandless magic until Fig is there to teach him. They did not need him here before, regarding him with pity in their eyes, walking on eggshells around him, too embarrassed to take him to any of the social gatherings they attended. Why the sudden excitement now? They have their precious little daughter to take care of. Will just wants to be left alone.

Will is wearing a mask, a sweet sunshine of a 5th year while loathing everything on the inside: he was supposed to be here years ago! Everyone takes their magic for granted and does not even try to reach their full potential while Will spends days and nights, studying, trying to catch up and succeeding. 

Elland has studied at Hogwarts since year one in this AU, and he is the one who shows Will Hogsmeade the day the trolls attack. He saves Will by accident, his own ancient magic waking up at that moment. Will does not even realize it until later. He hates it. Elland has always had everything, and he's a bloody muggle-born, he does not understand! And now without any effort he also sees the rare kind of magic, the kind Will felt like he deserved to wield, for all the shit he went through in the past 4 years. Elland has no right to have ancient magic! Will thinks that, all the while mesmerized by Elland, his stupid selfless acts, him saving Will. It infuriates the Slytherin the most: Elland effortlessly understands it all right off the bat and then risks his life for somebody else instead of protecting himself. Somebody Elland has only just met! It is Will who is weak, Will had to protect himself from that blow instead of feeling indebted to this lucky Hufflepuff. It's unfair.

Throughout the year Will gets closer with the Rookwood's gang. Rookwood finds out Will wields ancient magic or more so he thinks he found Will when in fact Will overheard them threatening Elland at some point and played his own cards right. Rookwood is using Will, controlling him with promises of power in the Repository. Will lets himself be used, he is not naive, not after all the things he went through. He knows he is resourceful and will be useful to Rookwood and Ranrok as a spy. He had to use his own body countless times to manipulate people into telling him things, moving pawns around. The only one he cannot quite get to is Rookwood. 

Elland is on the other side, fighting what Will is building without even knowing Will has ancient magic to begin with. Elland is the one with Professor Fig, doing all the ancient magic learning while Will never tells a soul. Well, apart from Rookwood but it was a calculated risk. Will learns to control his power all on his own. He does not need the help of those who reject the potential of the power hidden within the repository. 

Will does not realize at first but he is starting to get used to Elland, and when he does — he rejects the idea with a scoff. Will keeps convincing himself that he needs Elland for his own goals. He needs to keep a close eye on the Hufflepuff. He can't allow himself to really like him, not to mention fall in love! He will just get burned again. Elland, however, considers them close friends and feels something blooming within him but he is not sure about it yet. But Will is adorable when he is blushing, and he has been doing that a lot recently in Elland's presence. 

One day on one of the outings William and Elland clash. Elland sees Will among the Ashwinders and rushes in to help, realizing too late that he was wrong the entire time. Will, his sweet Will, the one has has a lovely smile and blushes when Elland plays him songs on his lute, this Will has been spying on him, passing information onto Rookwood. And Elland is hurt, but not because of all the bad Will has done in his time at Hogwarts but because Will never once shared anything, never told Elland about his past, never allowed even a moment of weakness to show.

(Tangled spoilers)

Elland tries to convince Will that everything will get better, but Will does not believe a word. He, who has been tricking people for years, does not trust anyone. Even if deep deep inside he wants to. Will can get to the power source on his own, Elland led them where he needed to. Will does not need Elland for anything anymore. Elland, who puts others before his own needs, who is always so helpful, who makes William laugh. This perfect prince, always so sickeningly perfect. This Hufflepuff is too soft. He doesn't understand how worthless Will felt before Hogwarts, how hard it's been for him, how much he craved that what Elland, this muggle-born, was so freely given. 

Will rejects the idea that they are friends, but deep inside he is hurt. Elland doesn't get it. Why wouldn't he let William have at least half of the power to control? William is ready to share if Elland comes with him, joins him! Will thinks that the pain he feels is from the betrayal. He has no idea it's heartbreak: Elland not accepting him, Elland not joining him, Elland telling him what he can and cannot do, just like his parents. William feels like he lost any chances of having Elland by his side. And so, Will has nothing left to lose. 

(Tangled spoilers)

They still have to pretend at school until the end of the year, and for William it is the hardest thing ever. He wants to yell at Elland, asking why he is still trying to be friends with him and why after all that transpired at the Ashwinder's camp Elland is still there. It is breaking Will on the inside. Elland still tries to get through Will, and Will hates how much he wants to accept Elland's help. 

He once again tricks Elland when they go to Olivander to make the special wand. He thought to steal the wand for himself but did not count on Rookwood showing up. It is both Elland and Will that get teleported with Rookwood, William snathing the wand from Elland and giving it to Rookwood. Only for Rookwood to turn on Will as well because with the wand he no longer needs Will. 

It is Elland who saves Will once again, and Will hates it. He wants to hate it. He was discarded by his "allies" once again, what was the point of saving Will, after he has betrayed Elland yet another time? And yet, after Rookwood is defeated Elland still chooses to trust Will, to shake him from this haze. To tell him that Will is not worthless, and that Will deserves to be loved, and that at Hogwarts he does not need to resort to all of this. In just one year Will accomplished more than most of the students can in four years. Will is a brilliant wizard and he does not need to prove anything to anybody! Will does not need to prove anything to Elland...

Will is too shaken to really reply to that barrage of love that Elland is showering him with. He can't think straight. He is so conflicted. They have to get to The Final Repository before Ranrok first and all the thinking can be done later. 

Ranrok gets defeated anyway just as Fig is fated to die underneath Hogwarts as well, yet another blow Will did not expect to cut him so deep. When it comes to the question of what to do with The Final Repository William starts a duel with Elland. He is clinging to the last possible hope of getting that power, proving his family and everyone once and for all that he is so much more. That the kid they discarded as a squib is the most powerful wizard among them. 

If Elland is losing this duel, it is not because he is weak. It is because he feels Will's hesitation. He has seen Will break. He does not want this power to be used at all but by that point he realizes he is so in love with Will he is almost ready to give it all to him. Just the thought of Will possibly dying back during the fight with Roockwood was enough for Elland to fully accept his feelings. 

So while Will is pointing his shaking wand at his defeated friend and goes through his heartwrenching monologue, Elland confesses. He keeps saying I love you until Will stops talking, eyes wide. And then Elland says it some more. Will yells at him to shut up or Will would kill him. Elland does not shut up. The more he says it the more Will loses it to the point when Elland ends up catching him in his arms and Will just slumps in a pile of sobbing mess. He is clinging onto Elland, finally letting all of it go, saying it all back between the broken sobs: I love you, I love you, I love you...

It is a long road for William to start trusting people again, but Elland is there to help him. To pull him out. To talk sense into him. Will doubts he can go back to how was before. But Will is nothing but hopeful.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #William #Elland #[It is both of their stories tehnically because I cannot think of a way to turn Elland dark] #[Thank you to the musical owls for finally making me put this story together] #[It is not a fanfic but it is as close as it gets to it] #[My heart hurt writing it] #dark au #dark will #dark!William #Spotify

[lumiereandcogsworth]

belle + hair headcanons!

belle was always fascinated by braids as a child, especially when she saw girls her age or a bit older wearing them with ribbons and hats and flowers.

unfortunately, maurice had no idea how to braid hair, he only had brothers growing up, so one day he asked if the dressmaker with the three daughters always dressed in pink would be willing to braid his girl’s hair

belle came home that day with the biggest smile on her face. she immediately found little flowers to stick in the braids, and she was desperate for ribbons to make it extra fun and colorful

maurice quickly realized that this was something that made his daughter extremely happy, and if that was the case, he’d have to learn the skills. so madame dupont taught maurice how to braid belle’s hair — a handful of different styles, so as to keep things interesting

before long it was something of a routine, belle sitting on the floor with busy hands on her little toys and figurines, or being lost in her latest book, and maurice sitting on the couch behind her, careful and complex weaving that made his daughter giggle with delight when she finally got to see in the mirror

as she grew up, she learned how to do it herself. she spent many candlelit nights and cloudy mornings sitting criss-crossed in front of a mirror trying to work out the angles. she never let papa show her, she HAD to figure it out on her own. she’s very headstrong <3

soon, she could do all sorts of things with her hair. complicated braids and intricate buns and tidy weaves that kept her hair back while she tinkered in the workshop or climbed every tree in sight.

for a few weeks she went through a phase of wanting to be a hairdresser. maurice let her trim his hair a few times, but they quickly learned she was far better with her hands than with the scissors when it came to hair.

a bit down the road, now sharing her life with with adam, he discovered very quickly that playing with hair is one of belle’s favorite fidgets

she often subconsciously strokes bits of her own hair while reading or reciting or thinking

she runs her hand through adam’s hair when he’s falling asleep beside her and she’s up reading, which really benefits them both, as her soothing touch always knocks him right out

she also always wants to braid adam’s hair. she’ll turn while he’s reading and start making little braids, and he’s generally too endeared by it all to ask her to stop. in fact, he only ever takes them out if he needs his hair a certain way for a meeting or event.

belle has also asked adam repeatedly if she can cut his hair, and he always refuses because he has a weekly hair appointment and he loves his wife but she is also a chaotic crafter and his hair is Precious

maurice later tells him that he made the right call

but oh!! oh!! when belle has her own children?? oh my goodness!! so much hair to braid!!

her eldest daughter renée most enjoys it, letting her mama give her the most intricate braids and styles and ALWAYS wanting ribbons and flowers added in. even when renée is older and has a maid to help her dress for events, renée still always prefers her mama to do it

juliette doesn’t like it too much. the tightness and constant touching is just a bad sensory experience for her. but she is okay when mama brushes her long dark locks, so belle does that, tucks a flower behind her daughter’s ear, and kisses her head before letting her go play with her siblings. sometimes juliette wants some of it tied back so she can wear a bow (or bows) in her hair, but it’s never all completely up or tucked, even when she’s older.

little maurice likes having silly braids in his hair, he thinks it’s fun and especially likes to add big flowers, (so he can look like an elf wizard, he says), but the problem is that he can never keep still long enough for belle to ever complete any specific style for him. so usually he has half a braid somewhere on his head and his chaos undoes it within the hour. but that never bothers him, he just likes to be included <3

whenever her kiddos are around, belle’s always stroking or fixing their hair, subconsciously or not. (i think her and adam both do this, but for adam it’s more because physical touch is a love language for him, so he leaves a hand on their heads and shoulders often.)

and yes, belle has had urges to cut all of their hair, but adam won’t let it happen. not the hairs on their precious little heads?? their darling perfect angels?? absolutely not!!

belle retaliates by braiding adam’s hair while he’s sleeping, and then undoes it in the morning, so when he wakes up, parts of it are wavier then others. he looks at himself in the mirror and makes an extremely grumpy face. belle thinks she’s sooooo funny

#yay! beloved thoughts! #belle #batb headcanons #batb 2017 #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast 2017 #beauty and the beast (2017) #oc writing #adelle #adam x belle #belle x adam #papa maurice #princess belle

[unknownstarrl]

(Official oc)

*Left - Yura || Right - Yuri

🪄Character bio:

Name: Yura || Yuri Hill

Kanji: ユラ || ユリ•ヒル

Romanji: Yura || Yuri Hiru

Full name: Yura Rosemary Hill || Yuri Wilfred Hill

Quote: "We’re one, and you’re my precious another half"

V/A: Ashely Biski || Nicholas Leung (English)

Kana Asumi || Horie Shun(Japanese)

Gender: Female || Male

Age: 15-16

Birthday: May 31st (Gemini)

Sexuality: Bicurious || Panromantic Demisexual

Hair color: Raven black || Crow black

Eyes color: Maya blue || Brown(right), Blue(left)

Golden(using magic) [both]

Blood status: Half-blood

Race: witch || wizard

Height: 169 cm || 165 cm

Nicknames: Yuu [short name]

Prefect(Yuri) [NRC staff, most of everyone in NRC]

Hill-san (Yura) [ NRC staff, most of everyone in NRC]

Yuu-chan || Yuu-kun [Cater]

Yura || Yuri-san [Riddle, Jade, Epel]

Little prawn/Ebi-chan || Shrimpy/Koebi-chan [Floyd]

Mademoiselle/Monsieur Gémeaux or Mademoiselle Sorcière || Monsieur Trickster [Rook] (note: Gémeaux meaning Gemini in French and Sorcière is witch in French)

Herbivore, Bunny(both) [Leona]

Potato/Sweet potato (both) [Vil]

Young lady || Little one [Lilia]

Lady (Yura) [Silver]

Yura-shi || Yuri-shi [Idia]

Yura Hill || Yuri Hill-san [Ortho]

Child of man, Briar Rose(both) [Malleus]

Human (both) [Sebek]

Witch || Warlock or child of magic (both) [Overblot gang]

Alice (both) [Che'nya]

Princess (Yura) [Neige, seven dwarfs]

Onee-chan || Yuu-niichan [Cheka]

Yuu-yuu(Yuri) [Neige]

Friend(both) [Peeves]

Rule breaker(both) [Fred Weasley II, Rose Granger-Weasley, almost every students in Hogwarts]

Genius(Yuri) [Scorpius Malfoy]

Little devils [Sam, Wilfred]

The Most Troubled Students at Hogwarts(both) [all teacher in Hogwarts]

Closet friends: In hogwarts: Fred Weasley II, Peeves, Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, James Potter II

In NRC: Grim, Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, Ortho, Sebek(maybe?), Malleus, Ruggie, Floyd, Leona(maybe?)

Years: 5 (Hogwarts)

1st (NRC)

Class: 1-A

Seat: 26 || 25

House: Gryffindor || Ravenclaw [from WizardingWorld.com]

Dormitory: Ramshackle (Unofficial)

Dominant hand: Ambidextrous || Right

Birthplace: [Redacted], Japan

Residence: London, England

Occupation: Hogwarts student

NRC student

Witch || Wizard

Mr.S's Mystery Shop's worker(both)

Seer's apprentice (Yuri)

Chaser(Yura)

Vice dorm leader || Dorm leader/Prefect

Dragonlord(both)

Merlin's descendants(both)

Family: Unnamed father †

Rosemary [Redacted] neé Hill (mother) †

Wilfred Hill (maternal uncle/adoptive father)

Judie Hill née Williams (maternal aunt by marriage/adoptive mother)

Pumpkin (dog-family pet)

Merlin - Myrddin Wyllt (ancestor)

Balinor Ambrosius (ancestor-Merlin's father)

Strong subject: Charms || Potion

History of magic (both)

Flying || Alchemy(NRC)

Defense against the Dark Art (Morela)

Care of magical creatures (both)

Weak subject: Potion || Flying

Herbology (Yura)

In NRC: Art (Yuri)

Alchemy (Yura)

Club: in NRC: Newspaper Club

in Hogwarts: Yura: Quidditch team, Art club for Gryffindor

Yuri: Potions club, Hogwarts Gobstone Club

Talents: Magic, Beast tamer (both)

Swordswoman || Swordsman

Singing, dancing(both)

Playing violin || guitar

Prophesy (Yuri)

Strong memory(Yuri)

Dragon language (both)

Favourite food: Garlic bread and Beefsteak || Pumpkin cupcakes

Least favourite food: Fish, salad || Bone marrow

Likes: Yura - poetry, flying, speed, magic, defense magic, martial arts, charms, black rose, lily, drawing, magical creatures, dragon, griffin, sword, fantasy genre, phoenix, Astrology, Grimms brother's fairy tale, tomato, butterbeer, Zonko's Joke shop

Yuri - salad, cupcakes, wand, singing, dancing, white rose, fairy, fae, mermaid, magical creatures, horror genre, fiction novels, potion, alchemy, Animagus, owl, crow, raven, Grimms brother's fairy tale, butterbeer,

Dislikes: Yura - salad, fish; dancing, singing in front of everyone; darkness, bullies, NRC's problems, crow, cat, crowd, Crowley, annoying thing, Sebek(he's annoying), her biological father, hexes, witch hunter , potion, someone insulted her family

Yuri - bone marrow, sweet, confined spaces, black rose, Crowley, NRC's problems, Overblots, something too shiny, his biological father, bullies, being compared, being called 'girl', someone insulted his family

Wand: Larch wood with a phoenix core 13" and supple flexibility || Black walnut wood with a phoenix core 11 ¾" and hard flexibility [from WizardingWorld.com]

Pet companion: Osward/Ozzy (elf owl) [both]

Patronus: Blackbird [both]

Boggart: Seeing the other die (both)

Backstory:

<warning: de@th, @bused>

Yura and Yuri had a bad past with their family, their father didn't like magic. When he found out the twin had magic, he abused Rosemary and the twin every day. He even had an affair, that broke Rosemary's heart and she always locked herself in her room. Without Rosemary, the twin had no one to protect and they were abused, tortured, he even locked Yuri in the closet and didn't let him eat or drink(that why Yuri afraid of confined spaces), so the twin always had to hide from their father when he came home

One time their parent were arguing and the thing got too far, the father accidentally killed his wife. Realizing what he did, the twins' father panicked and ran out of the house and while crossing the street, he was run over by a truck and died

Losing parent in one night, all property and house sold to pay off their father's debt, the twin were forced to move from Japan to England to live with their uncle

In here, the twin are taught how to control magic by their uncle - Wilfred and they were also able to free themselves from that painful past

The twin recived Hogwarts letter when they were 11 years old

Yura and Yuri went back to Japan a few times when Judie was on a business trip

Personality:

The twins have opposite personalities, Yura is always positive and caring and Yuri is calm and a little bit cold

Yura is so kind that if someone is in danger, she will save that person despite of danger

The twins also have some similarities, they are often annoyed and a bit rude if they are around someone they don't like or someone slanders, insults their family

When someone have trouble, the twin will sit next to them, listen all their trouble and give them good advices

Don't be fooled by their faces, the twins are a terror to all the teachers of Hogwarts, the twins's mischievousness is comparable to Fred and George Weasley

Yura is a impatient person, if she wait something too long, she will get tired and go home; Yuri will stay a little longer if he has a book to read, otherwise he will go home with his twin.

Trivia:

Yura and Yuri are Merlin's descendant

In the ceremony ( Twisted Wonderland), the Dark Mirror said "Their souls are unlike anything I have ever witnessed and no dormitory suits them" but Crowley and all the students at NRC misunderstood twins didn't have magic, so the twins have to keep their magic in secret

In Chapter 5 arc Pomefiore, Yuri often exchanges messages with a student at RSA and it's Neige Leblanche.

In my world, Japanese is the mainly language in Twisted Wonderland and English is Old trade, Ancient language or dead language, so when the twin talk in English, only few people understand what they said

The twin are inspired by "Yuu and the power of magic" by @writingerror and "Epics of Ink & Light" by @tickledpink31

The twins' personalities were inspired by: Fred and George (Harry Potter), Dipper and Mabel Pines(Gravity falls)

Language twin use inspired by Lost in Translation, @twsty-lav Language Barrier

Some (fun)fact about the twin:

Yuri have Claustrophobia ( fear of confined spaces)

Yura was born 5 minutes before Yuri, because of this, Yura always teased on her twin by calling him: "My cute baby brother"

Their aunt - Judie is a Muggleborn

Unlike their uncle, the twin's mother - Rosemary didn't have magic and she was always jealous of her brother

The twin broke more than a hundred rules at Hogwarts but were still forgiven by Headmistress Minerva

The first years often teases the twins by calling Yuri "onii-san"(big brother) and Yura "okaa/kaa-san" (mother)

The twins have been taught martial arts and some defensive moves by Judie if they meet bad Muggles

The twin nearly burned down the library at Uncle Wilfred's house when they still hadn't control good magic

No one at Hogwarts (except Dumbledore's portrait) knew that the Hill family were descendant of Merlin

Yura and Yuri can use magic without wand (it's their little secret)

Yuri is very smart, he is always in the top 10 at Hogwarts and NRC, his intelligence can compare to Hermione when she was at Hogwarts

At first, all the NRC students didn't like the twins but perhaps because of "beast tamed", they became more friendly with the twins.

Because Crowley is so kind that he forgot to provide money for the twin, Yura and Yuri have to work at Mr.S's Mystery Shop to earn extra income to buy food and tuna for Grim

Yura have mild myopia, she only needs to wear glasses when studying, reading or watching something

The twin tired of NRC bullsh*t and Crowley

All domitory want the twin be their member but they refuse, they said they belong to Ramshackle, not other dorm

When Crowley realized the twin's magic is too strong and able to defeat Overblot, he was planning make Hill's twin his pawns to increase school's reputation also to make profits from it but this ideal was opposed by NRC teacher

#twisted wonderland #twst #harry potter oc #twisted wonderland x harry potter #harry potter generation #twst au #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland mc #twisted wonderland yuu #picrew #not writing #bbc merlin #arthur legend

[fortheloveofdeaddove]

What Love Looks Like

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Fili/Kili (main), Thorin/Bilbo

Warnings: Mild smut, Durincest, sibling incest (what's on the tin is in the can, folks)

Contains: Lovey Dovey Shit

Dedicated to: all my Durincest moots

Word Count: 1,469

Read it on Ao3 here.

I wrote a ficlet. Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine. I've never written anything featuring this pairing so specifically, so I don't know how this hits. Ao3 was down and this is how I survived.

“You’re going to get our beards shorn,” Kili complained as he was backed up against a tree.

“Not while Uncle is busy arguing with the wizard and gawping at the pretty halfling,” Fili reasoned, herding the younger dwarf backwards and crowding in close. Kili was still hesitant as he stood there with his palms flat against the tree, giving Fili a hard look with those sharp brown eyes whilst the other dwarf had already begun to shed his belt and coat.

“What?”

“Pretty?”

Fili scoffed and slotted one hand in the crook of Kili’s neck, ready to scruff the idiot if he wouldn’t listen. By Eru his naddith was a handful.  “Mahal’s sake Kili, because Uncle thinks he’s pretty, not-,”

“And you agree?”

“No, of course not, mesmel. Far too soft for my tastes,” he insisted with a grin, leaning forward and nosing at the stubble on his obstinate brother’s chin. “I like… Well,” he chuckled with a low huff and kissed the warm patch of skin just below his ear, “you know very well what I like, naddith.”

There were always small tell-tale signs that Kili was affected. A clenched jaw, goosebumps, ears that went red as tomatoes. His brother had never felt at ease with the intense attraction between them, always looking over his shoulder, afraid they would be discovered and separated. Therefore, from time to time, he would get it in his silly head that he should resist his own nature. (One of the more unfortunate traits he’d adopted from their uncle, of course.) It was always useless in the end. Though Kili was fearful as usual of being found out, he was unable to tamp down on his jealousy, unable to hide the signs that he’d been wanting, needing this as much as Fili had.

There was a flimsy boundary his little brother erected in these moments, and the elder brother had decided long ago he would never try to bring it down. Fili didn’t suffer the same agonizing compunctions about what they shared - he’d known he and his brother belonged to each other from a very early age. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t try to. So he was patient, and let the younger dwarf break down his own walls each and every time.

Pulling back he waited and watched the battle play out on Kili’s comely face. He didn’t care what others said. His fine eyes and high cheekbones and silken hair that was a nightmare to put braids in were all precious to him. In Fili’s opinion there was no greater beauty among their people, no finer prince to be found. He longed very much for their journey’s end - not to see himself sat upon the heir’s throne - but to see his brother finally crowned and stationed as he deserved. Kili was not the spare and he was not unimportant, despite the unkind rumors that were whispered about him. To Fili, he was the most important dwarf in all of Middle Earth, and someday, everyone would know it.

His brother closed his eyes and sighed. Just a few shaky breaths, then he leaned forward so slowly and touched Fili’s forehead with his. 

“Nadad, please.”

It was a beautiful thing watching Kili summon the courage to shatter his thin walls and reach beyond himself. It made Fili feel all the more grateful knowing that his brother fought the shadows of doubt just to be with him, just to share another stolen moment. There may come some dark day when Kili might not have the courage, and Fili didn’t want to think of what would become of him then, so he didn’t take it for granted.

The brothers wasted no time, for they were stealing too much of it as it was. Fili kissed his naddith hungrily and the strings holding Kili back snapped. They were on each other with near feral enthusiasm in an instant, pushing back layers and undoing fastenings and grabbing for skin that would soothe the ache that constantly throbbed between them. He hissed into that plush mouth when Kili cupped him through his trousers, all the former hesitancy apparently gone now that he had granted himself permission. Yanking his tunic aside, Fili trailed his open mouth down Kili’s tanned neck and bit his little brother’s sun-kissed shoulder in retaliation. That earned him a sweet sounding moan that, if Mahal heard his prayers, would remain a precious earworm for the next few days.

Kili reached down and hitched up Fili’s thigh with one hand. They grinded on each other with a lack of dignity that would have brought shame to their line. The younger dwarf’s possessive grip on Fili’s hips was borderline painful. It was messy and hurried and below them, and yet less than either of them deserved as sons of Durin and the heirs to a legendary kingdom.

While the moments they spent straining towards pleasure were always enjoyable, it was the intersection of pure connection and contentment after coming together that Fili truly yearned for. He was never happier, never more fulfilled and sure of their love, than when they shared each other’s breath and quietly searched each other’s eyes. Then, finally, one of them would grin crookedly, and their shared smiles and laughter would overtake them as the pounding rhythm of pleasure slowly ebbed like a waning tide, leaving them pliant in each other’s arms. 

So it was this time, as always.

After they reluctantly made themselves presentable (at least they did their best to make themselves look less suspicious), Fili was left with the sweet ache of knowing he couldn’t reach out to Kili the way he wanted to for the next however long. It was a duplicitous feeling - signaling the stinging sensation of hold on until next time, yet heralding also the sweet relief of eventually reuniting. Everything about their love - from its brittle shape and evanescent seduction to its quiet inevitability and grounding nature - was all worth the trouble, the lying, and the hiding. Terrifying and all consuming as it was at times it was also their homeostasis: their status quo.

He could tell as they made their way back to camp that his brother was still pouting about the “pretty” comment. Fili let him, knowing his little game would only lead to an even more gratifying reward when next they stole away together. His little brother would taunt him the entire time about it though not directly, which he was far too talented at. Eventually it would provoke his temper, and they would find themselves once again against a tree or behind a boulder, clawing desperately at the home they only could find in one another. 

“You’re really convinced Uncle likes Bilbo?” Kili asked.

Fili thought back on the looks he’d seen Thorin aim at the hobbit. How his uncle was ever conscious of the burglar’s location, always zeroing in on his conversations, regardless of whether his reaction was dismissive or snide. His brother hero-worshiped their uncle far too much to notice these things, but like recognized like.

“I do.”

“Huh. You think it’s serious?”

Fili grinned, again thinking of Thorin’s utterly besotted gaze. He knew that feeling well.

“I think if we aren’t calling him irak’adad by the time we’ve taken the mountain, I’ll have to hold Uncle Thorin accountable for lack of propriety in amad’s place.”

Kili looked at him skeptically. “You don’t think…,”

“Oh, but I do.”

Kili groaned in disgust. “Forget it. This conversation never happened.”

Fili laughed and Kili covered his ears with a grimace and took off back toward their camp. “I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you!”

In another part of the wood, a twitterpated dwarf king and a flustered hobbit were comically trying to redress each other with poor success before anyone might happen to wander upon them.

“You really think your nephews are, ahem… partaking in the love that dare not speak its name?” Bilbo said as he redid the buttons Thorin had incorrectly fastened.

“I’ve had my suspicions for a number of years, but I’m more sure than ever,” Thorin said with a huff as he tucked his lover’s kerchief in beat the hobbit to the last button. “Thanks to you, ghivashel, I now know what love looks like on a dwarf.”

Bilbo tilted his head and smiled the lovesick smile of a lovesick fool. Then he blinked, and frowned.

“Er, how would you know that, exactly, without watching yourself? I mean, you’d have to have a mirror-,”

The look Thorin gave him then had the hobbit reconsidering whether the dwarf king loved him truly or if, in fact, he wanted to throttle him after all. Perhaps it was both. 

The prince-in-exile turned on his heel and stalked off. 

“Thorin? Wait!,” he stuttered and stumbled after him. “It’s a fair question! Thorin! Thorin!”

The End. (Needless to say, everyone lived, nobody died, and they all lived happily ever after Under the Mountain.)

#fili/kili fic #fili/kili #fortheloveofdeaddove fics #my fics #durincest #the hobbit fanfiction

[endlessly-cursed]

The Yaxley Legacy (Post-HPHM)

A/N: So, they have been bugging me for a while, so I wanted to write a little something of their relationship as kin. Eloise belongs to @kathrynalicemc​ whose OC I borrowed for this 

Summary: Camille and Eloise start over as the only family they have left 

May 20th, 1998

Camille dipped her feet on the water with the Dead Sea salt and white rose petals she had ordered her dear butler Humphry for a relaxing skincare day. So much had happened, so many lives lost, and so many deaths and devastation left in the world, yet Camille had been sheltered from it by her father, who was adamant on not losing his only heir.

Her mother, Céline, was outside with her family, and her father Charles was at Parliament trying to maintain the family’s good name. She looked at her mirror and her bright blue eyes and dark hair, like her great-great grandmother Primrose have had once, when she was her age.

It was a pity to not have lived up to her heroic ancestress, who had ridden all the way from London to Leeds to avoid Winbourne being taken by force by the Buckinghams, who hadn’t been a problem since the Second Muggle World War, an equally devastating event that left no wizard with a thirst of knowledge of the muggles indifferent. She herself descended from a muggle woman, Margaret Taylor, a woman who changed Winbourne’s routines forever. She was her great-grandfather Vincent’s second wife and his only legal wife by the viscounty. She had been a potential target to Grindelwald, but her title as Viscountess had protected her, alongside her husband’s relations to important families such as the Fersens, Brokenshires, the Yaxleys, and many others.

She dipped her strawberry on her chocolate fondue when she heard a knock and quickly cleaned her wet feet and put on slippers and went downstairs and opened the door, where a tawny-skinned girl of her age, with dark eyes and a serious face and short hair waited for her. As she spoke, realisation dawned on her: she was her cousin, Eloise Yaxley, and she had lost many things. Too many for a young girl.

When she let her in, she called for Humphry, who curtsied at her “Who is your guest, ma’am?”

“This, sir, is my cousin Eloise. Please prepare the best wine you have and prepare her rooms: she will be staying the night. If you do not have any more plans today?”

Eloise awkwardly shook her head “No. And… I’m a bit curious about this whole castle.”

Camille giggled “House or estate is fine. It is not big enough to be considered a castle.”

As they walked over the halls, they stopped on the portrait room, where all of their ancestors’ portraits were hung. Eloise eyed some, and her eye caught the oldest one, dating back to 1466. Camille smiled “That is Sancia Somerset, formerly D’Este, a famous Italian noblewoman who married into the family. Her money and influence put the family in good name with the muggle king Edward IV and would eventually lead to be named viscounts.”

Eloise frowned “Weren’t you viscounts already?”

Camille smiled calmly “At first, we were mere knights, but it was during the Tudor Era, especially the reign of Queen Catherine Parr when who would be the first Viscountess Somerset, Roselyn, who was a Cromwell, a very influent family back then, who gained her affection and trust and with her husband Thomas, who took care of the King’s most… private areas eventually gifted him the abandoned viscounty and title.”

Eloise looked curiously at Camille “What do you mean, ‘most private areas’?”

Camille looked away bashfully “There was this curious position during Henry VIII’s reign where one awarded chore was to make sure that the king relieved himself in the bathroom and that such business was disposed.”

Eloise burst laughing out loud, doubling in laughter “Are you telling me… that you got your title by wiping the king’s arse?” She laughed again “Now that’s precious!”

Camille tried her best to be serious, but eventually gave up and joined the laughter “I guess it is amusing.”

Their faces went towards the centre of the room with a Victorian portrait of a incredibly beautiful woman, with dark raven hair and deep blue eyes, full lips and barely noticeable freckles, posing with a beautiful blue tiara and a blue choker, alongside a blue ring that had a similar gemstone to Rowena Ravenclaw’s tiara and a beautiful blue gown that seemed to date to the late 1890s. “And here we have the woman who started it all, the Queen Victoria to the Yaxleys: Primrose Sabrina Yaxley, who married into the family and would end up being Minister of Magic and one of the most famous and loved women in our history, in both muggle and wizard history. She had five children with her husband, a pureblood Yaxley, and they all went on to marry interesting people who expanded the tree and family ties. She had a very interesting life and was incredibly smart, witty, heroic and had the mannerisms and poise of a queen. She was a paragon of the peerage and her wisdom and tenacity kept us from falling into oblivion. Because of her, the estate is still standing. We are related to earls, marquises, princes and many pureblood families because of her and her children.” They moved on and Eloise looked at an oddly familiar figure of the portrait of a young woman, from the 1940s who had the same dark hair and blue eyes, but with hardened features and holding a baby on her arms “And this is your grandmother, Gia Yaxley. You have many traits of her and her husband, who took her name. He was a Polish refugee of the war and met Gia through a common ancestor, Countess Alexandra Fersen, the first daughter of Primrose. As she nursed him, they fell in love. You have his skin and eyes, as well as his face features and dark hair.” She placed a hand on her shoulder “You are not your father’s daughter. You are a Yaxley, just not the kind he tried to bully you into. You are steadfast, true to yourself, brave, wise, kind, cunning and with the heart of a lion and a strong sense of character and that independence and pride that makes us who we are. That is the legacy Gia tried to teach your father. He was just too weak-minded and indoctrinated by Voldemort to listen to her.”

Eloise smiled at her and looked at the latest photo portrait: it was a man with brown hair and a 70s hairstyle and a neat suit on him, smiling. Camille smiled fondly “And that is my father, the current Viscount of Winbourne. He is the twelfth of his generation. The Yaxley name has been around for 94 years since Primrose’s marriage to Laurent Yaxley in 1904. I will be the second Viscountess Yaxley after Primrose on her own right.”

Eloise looked at the many portraits of men, women, daughters, sons and grandsons that surrounded her. Six hundred years of history in one room, told by portraits. She realised, there was so much of her family that she had been depraved of, that now she craved for more knowledge, and would certainly frequent this household; she had a family here, and would not lose them this time.

“I would like to learn more of them. All of them, actually. And of you, of course. As I said before, I want to be part of your lives.”

Camille smiled fondly “I’d love nothing more. I was taking up a skincare routine. Care to join me? We won’t do anything against your will.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was dipping my feet on Dead Sea salt and rose petals that are incredible for sore feet and was about to take a mask and cream for the face.”

Eloise smiled for once “My feet are sore… do tell me more about it.”

Camille giggled and led her to the room she had been in, where she took off her slippers and dipped on them again and beckoned Eloise to join them, where she took off her heavy boots and sighed at the fresh water and the salt and petals on her skin, eating the atrocities on her feet. She also helped herself with chocolate fondue and strawberries and listening to ABBA as the maids took off the dirt and healed the wounds that she had gained for the Phoenix Resistance as both bonded over many things.

Camille teased her on having let the war destroy her pretty face and Eloise could only imagine Rye’s face when he saw her all neat and cleaned.

After a long day, Camille gave her Gia’s bedroom that was filled with a magical album with photos taken by her. She opened it and saw a photo of a much older Primrose with a baby on her arms. Gia, she reckoned. She was smiling, though she had a bit of a nostalgic look on her face. On the next one, there was a two-year-old Gia being twirled by an elderly man, Laurent she thought. She was giggling and he was smiling wide, beaming at his daughter. Apparently, she had been a surprise baby.

The next one was a six-year-old Gia hugging her sister Alexandra, who, according to her notes, was celebrating her engagement to the Earl of Helwater. She looked beautiful, and resembled Primrose much.

Then, a photo in 1928 was made by someone else to Gia, who was in Hufflepuff robes: clearly her father’s worst nightmare: a half-blood who was also a Hufflepuff, who married a foreign muggleborn. She always knew he idolized someone else in her family, and suspected he idolized Primrose: beautiful half-blood woman who married into a pureblood family and gave many children.

The next photo was taken by someone else: it was Gia and her grandfather Ahmed, fighting off some dementors and other possible death eaters, though Eloise smirked at the obvious that Gia was doing most of the fighting.

The next photo touched her heart: it was Gia with her uncles and aunts surrounding her father Corban. She was smiling wide at him and so were her aunts and uncles. She clearly loved her father, but she wondered how things went down… he clearly never talked about her, and she now knew why: he had resented her for the heritage she left him. She had wished to meet her, but women like her never had a happy ending. She knew she had died during her stay at Hogwarts, in 1980, and that her remaining sisters and youngest children had been at her side.

Yet another reason to hate her father. She wondered if he’d get his ass whooped in hell, though someone as her Grandmother Gia had a place earned in heaven, with no more headaches from her father. She wished she could say the same.

She was afraid that Camille would kick her out when she told her what she had done during the war. She was wise and knowledgeable, she feared that what she had done was… too unforgivable.

The maid came with comfortable pyjamas and told her to ring the bell if she needed something from them and that breakfast would be served at 8.30. She’d meet her uncle and the viscount. Great… This looked like it’d be an awkward family reunion.

#hphm #the phoenix resistance #oc: camille yaxley #eloise yaxley #yaxley family #Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery #hogwarts mystery #mywriting*

[your-dietician]

40 Epic Lines From Peter Jackson's "The Lord Of The Rings" Trilogy

New Post has been published on https://medianwire.com/40-epic-lines-from-peter-jacksons-the-lord-of-the-rings-trilogy/

40 Epic Lines From Peter Jackson's "The Lord Of The Rings" Trilogy

If you are a sucker for a good fantasy movie, you know that it doesn’t get better than Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy. These films, which are considered to be some of the greatest of all time, have countless epic moments.

Amazon Prime’s The Rings of Power series inspired me to go back and watch the original movies again, so I’ve narrowed down the 40 most epic lines ever to be uttered.

The Fellowship of the Ring

1.

“Gandalf, my old friend, this will be a night to remember.” — Bilbo

2.

“I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” —Bilbo

3.

“Keep it secret. Keep it safe.” —Gandalf

4.

“One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them; one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.” —Gandalf/The One Ring

5.

“It’s a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” —Frodo/Bilbo

6.

“What about second breakfast?” —Pippin

7.

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. I choose a mortal life.” —Arwen

8.

“One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep.” —Boromir

9.

“You have my sword.” “And you have my bow.” “And my axe.” —Aragorn/Legolas/Gimli

10.

“You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing.” —Pippin

11.

“Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” —Elrond

12.

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” —Gandalf

13.

“Nobody tosses a dwarf!” —Gimli

14.

“You shall not pass!” —Gandalf

15.

“This task was appointed to you, and if you do not find a way, no one will.” —Galadriel

16.

“Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.” —Galadriel

17.

“I would have followed you, my brother, my captain, my king.” —Boromir

18.

“I made a promise, Mr Frodo, a promise. ‘Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee.’ And I don’t mean to.” —Sam

19.

“They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard.” —Legolas

20.

“My precious.” —Gollum

21.

“The white wizard approaches.” —Legolas

22.

[“What do you fear, my lady?”] “A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. Until all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.” —Éowyn

23.

[“What’s taters, precious?”] “Po-tay-toes. Boil’em, mash’em, stick’em in a stew.” —Sam

24.

“There will be no dawn for men.” —Saruman

25.

“There is always hope.” —Aragorn

26.

[“What’s happening out there?” —Gimli] “Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?” —Legolas

27.

“And so it begins.” —King Théoden

28.

“The fires of Isengard will spread, and the woods of Tuckborough and Buckland will burn. And all that was once green and good in this world will be gone. There won’t be a Shire, Pippin.” —Merry

29.

“Toss me. You’ll have to toss me. But don’t tell the elf!” —Gimli

30.

“It’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer.” —Sam

31.

“There is some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.” —Sam

32.

“The battle of Helm’s Deep is over. The battle of Middle Earth is about to begin.” —Gandalf

33.

“Frodo wouldn’t have gotten far without Sam.” —Frodo

34.

“Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice. The eye of the enemy is moving.” —Legolas

35.

[“They will answer to no one.” —Aragorn] “They will answer to the king of Gondor.” —Elrond

36.

“I am no man.” —Éowyn

37.

“A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. […] This day we fight!” —Aragorn

38.

“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.” —Sam

39.

“For Frodo.” —Aragorn

40.

“My friends, you bow to now one.” —Aragorn

What’s your favorite LOTR quote? Let us know below.

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[anxiousnerdwritings]

Yandere Bellatrix Lestrange w/ Biological!Child!Reader (platonic)

Bellatrix had only ever truly loved two people in her entire life; her sister (Narcissa) and the Dark Lord. She was entirely devoted to both, so much so that she never would have fathomed that anyone else could ever come to par with her most precious people. At least that was until she fell pregnant.

From a very young age it was expected of Bellatrix, as well as her sisters, to marry into other pure-blood families to keep the ‘magical pureness’ amongst their respected families. And so Bellatrix and Narcissa did as expected of them, excluding their blood traitor sister who married a muggle. It was just as expected to have children of their own to carry on the traditions, the radical thinking, and the overall pure blood status of both families. So, Bellatrix once again did what was expected of her, she became pregnant.

It’s probably around the same time Narcissa falls pregnant herself. Honestly, it was probably her sister becoming pregnant that had Bellatrix deciding to do the same. But unlike her sister, Bellatrix wasn’t excited to be a mother. She wasn’t even all that happy. No, to her this was just another thing to cross off the list. At least this way she has continued to show her devotion to her family by following all the necessary steps to guaranteeing the prosperity of their place amongst the wizarding world. It isn’t until her child is in her arms that Bellatrix starts to see them in a new light. A much darker light really.

Bellatrix doesn’t get too much time with her child before she’s sent to Azkaban for her part in torturing the Longbottom’s, but the time she does have with her child is spent solely with them. Ever since the first day she ever held them in her arms, Bellatrix hasn’t wanted to part with them. If she does have to then it’s not for very long and when she does have to leave them she leaves them in the care of her sister. Bellatrix by no means trusts anyone else with her child, not even her own husband. She’d prefer if he had nothing to do with them honestly, they’re her child after all. He barely had to do anything in making them, she’s the one who has been with them every step of the way.

Bellatrix will go as far as to stay in the same room as her child, staying as close as possible to them. This isn’t necessarily a maternal thing for her so much as it is a possessive thing. She loves her child, at least she acts as if she does and to an extent she does but it’s not like how Narcissa loves Draco. No, Bellatrix loves you as one loves something of worth to them. She cherishes you as someone who cherishes their very first flying broom. You’re more of a glorified object then a human being to her. She stays in the same room with you as to guard you from being taken from her, similar to how one would guard treasure.

To say she’s paranoid is an understatement. She can’t even trust Rodolphus with you and he’s your father. She fears he’ll come between you and her and she can’t have that. If he wasn’t a necessary member among the Death Eaters, Bellatrix wouldn’t mind offing him. Then it could truly just be the two of you and that sounds more and more appealing as the time goes by.

I have no doubt that Bellatrix tells her child bedtime stories about the Dark Lord and his endeavors. She wants her child to grow up and idolize him just as much as her after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells Narcissa to keep up with the stories when she gives her child over. Telling her which ones her darling baby seems to like most even though you’re but a babe who has no knowledge of anything going on and Narcissa is well aware of that but she’ll play along with her sister.

When the time comes for Bellatrix and Rodolphus to be taken to Azkaban, their child is already well and safe with Narcissa where they will be raised from then on. In a way it’s beneficial for both parties; Bellatrix ensures her child’s safety with her sister and for Narcissa, Draco won’t grow up all alone. It honestly wouldn’t be surprising at all for Narcissa to grow her own attachment towards you. To an extent it’s to be expected, after all she is your surrogate mother now.

You’re already family so it isn’t at all hard for Narcissa to take you under her wing and raise you as her own. She’s happy knowing that with you around Draco won’t be alone and that in itself is something she is very grateful for. Lucious on the other hand is a bit more apprehensive about having Bellatrix’s child in his family’s care. Of course he and Bella are family by marriage but he can’t help but to be on edge with you. What if you turn out just like her? What if you’re just as unhinged as her? It doesn’t help that Bellatrix threatened him when she left you in their care. But no matter what his worries Narcissa is always there to shoo them away. She won’t have him sully who you are when you haven’t even learned how to walk yet.

Draco may also be more likely to grow an unhealthy attachment toward you himself given how the two of you have been glued to each other’s sides for most of your life. You’re the closest thing he has to a sibling (you even go by their family name), you’re his very first ever friend and his best friend at that. Draco honestly wouldn’t know life without you.

#yandere bellatrix lestrange #yandere bellatrix lestrange imagine #yandere harry potter #yandere harry potter imagine #yandere #yandere writings #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere platonic #yandere naricissa malfoy #yandere draco malfoy #bellatrix lestrange imagine #narcissa malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagine #x reader #bellatrix lestrange x reader #narcissa malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x reader #yandere harry potter x reader #imagines #headcanons #platonic #platonic imagine

[siriusmydeer]

ooo okay so a James Potter x reader soulmate au where they feel each others pain, and she has a suspicion he's her soulmate but it's confirmed when he falls off his broom, and she hates him being her soulmate because he's in love with lily, but he says that lily doesn't matter anymore blah blah, and she says she first thought it was him when he fell of a bench in the great hall or something after confessing his love for lily in front of the entire school (1)

‘all along that they were soulmates but she tells him its really inconsiderate for being so obvious about his love for lily when he knew he had a soulmate and he feels really guilty and tries to make it up for her and yeah fluff ending please :)’

the painful soulmate

james potter x fem!reader

summary: in a world where you can feel your soulmates pain; your soulmate happens to think someone else is his soulmate

word count: 2.2k

warning: swearing, mentions of verbally abusing someone, mentions of beating people up, injuries; falling in the air, cracked ribs, tripping, face planting. joking name calling, kissing, angst, soulmate au, insinuation of unrequited love, fluff ending

by the age of 16 you and every other witch along with wizard were given a particular... gift. you wouldn’t consider it a gift, more like your worse fucking nightmare but you could squeal and pretend to be all dainty and excited about meeting your soulmate.

i mean why not give someone a choice on who they wanted to love? this wasn’t a game of spin the bottle this was forever.

being the only female in your friend group, made all the boys amongst you ridiculously pry into your privacy. wanting to know who they had to verbally torture considering they would scoop up the ‘precious little baby-girl’ of the group.

coming directly from the drama queen himself; sirius black. it’s not like they could beat up your partner because you would be able to feel his or her pain as-well.

you were sat in the marauders dorm absently playing with your fingers while looking at each of your mates, sirius and remus attempted to finish their plans on a new prank for the newest defence against the dark arts teacher, james sat at his desk table writing up ways to ask lily more dramatically than the last and peter had been figuring out his transfiguration homework from a few days prior.

“prongs, if you know she’s gonna say no, then why ask?” remus questioned not even looked at the sapphire-eyed boy. his only logic being, ‘well ill turn her no into a yes.’ as if coercion was the way to go.

the brunette sat at the table swiftly turning his head in the lyncanthropes direction, his spectacles almost falling down his nose from the quick snap of his head. “well, lily-pad has always said, ‘not in a million years!’ but that means after a million years she’d go out with me.” finishing his speech with a small grin.

the rest of the group on the other hand looked at him dumbfounded. eyebrows either scrunched or furrowed, “james m’afraid that’s not how it works.” you spoke, trying to ease his feelings as if your words could stop his incessant pining.

“well, i’ll just make it work!” turning around and continuing his list, speaking as if he was godric gryffindor coming up with the best idea of the century. “ten galleons she says no again.” sirius quickly whispers in peters direction, the dirty blonde haired boy doing a quick nod then looking back at his parchment.

“i heard that!”

the next time there was a ramble of soulmate talk, which by the way you were getting exhausted from. why did everyone have to have a soulmate? why couldn’t you pick from your own free will? it’s not even like you could have a bloody crush because there was already someone supposedly out there for you!

one free period, ONE! and it’s spent over peter narrowing down his options on all the gryffindor girls he might be paired with. “it’s definitely not marls, peter.” sirius’ pearl irises glanced at peter than over to remus who was trying to teach you how to play wizards chess.

“moony, not to be offensive, but this game sucks arse.” you shrugged, glaring at your queen piece that looked like it wanted to yell at you. as you were twisting around the wood of your pieces, james got up from the bench catching a glimpse of red among the ravenclaw students. instead tripping on the stone of the bench and face planting into the freshly cut grass.

you felt a soreness at the fronts of your calves and an immense discomfort on your face. you grimaced while rubbing your knees trying to soothe the random shoot of exertion through your veins to the point where you almost had the urge to groan.

james quickly scrambled to his feet trying to brush out his hair that had sprinkles of green all over the front, you completely ignored the fact that james’ fall broken by the stone of the bench had caused you to have a twinge of pain into your system.

“none of you saw that.” he panted with slight embarrassment, directing his message to sirius who had his hand clenched into a fist over his lips attempting to cover up the small chortles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“don’t worry, we saw nothing.” you confirmed with an amused grin, putting your two fingers over your lips like a seal.

he grinned back at you twice as hard, your heart starting more of an upbeat frequency that you started to notice as he sat beside you moving a piece that could ruin remus’ chance at winning.

“you slimy git! you’re helping her cheat, you little slag!” remus whined, trying to analyze the board again.

after your recovery, from absolutely nothing. you were sprawled on the scarlet-couch waiting for the rest of your friends to come back from detention. you dazed into a book remus had recently given to you, an icepack laying on your foot as you were almost hypnotized by the pride and prejudice book in your hands.

“oi, m’lady!” sirius abruptly shouted while returning to his common room. you jumped from the stentorian voice, that sunk into the now not-solemn and peaceful common room.

you turned your head seeing the bespectacled boy limp onto the other vermillion couch and rest his leg onto the plush of the pillow, meanwhile, the fawn and dirty blonde haired boys sat in the gryffindor-red love seats tired from their detention.

“what’s wrong with him?” you asked, referring to james’ leg that was propped under the pillow.

“we don’t know, we were walking and he just picked up his foot in agony. who knows maybe lily stubbed her toe.” sirius amused to the rest of the group. but your eyes widened in concern, but you had— there’s absolutely and completely no way. more than one person can stub their toe in one day, not just— just one person.

almost like you were in a daze or hypnotized, as stealth as possible you grabbed the maroon coloured blanket that was rested on the arm rest of the couch you spread it over your legs covering the foot; that you had injured previously that day.

what the fuck. no seriously, what the fuck. there wasn’t— there couldn’t even be— that wouldn’t work. it’s not possible. the butterflies, the flushed face, the nervous ticks— fuck.

over the course of the next few days, you were very careful. you could’ve been mary friggin’ poppins i mean you didn’t want him to get suspicious if you were both injured at the same time. you also did not want to know if he— the boy pining over lily fucking evans since first year was possibly— no there’s no way.

the following week there was a slytherin and gryffindor quidditch game. which also happened to be incredibly nerve wracking not only for you but between both houses, as much as slytherin wanted to seem nonchalant there act was simply not going to work. this determined who would be playing in the quidditch house cup, slytherins also happened to not play the fairest in quidditch so extra gryffindor training was keen.

well now that following week, was today. the game was fine, great even. gryffindor was in the lead and james was about to score a quaffle in the hoop, that was until slytherin beater decided to bat a bludger right into james torso causing him to collapse off his broom twenty five feet into the air with nothing to break his fall. at the reflect of the bludger on james ribs you already groaned hunched over into your seat catches the attention of both peter and sirius.

dumbledore did all the spells he could in such a swiftly manner before james skidded on the muddy grass of the pitch. by then you couldn’t even hold in the moans and groans from his affliction with the hard iron bludger and the fall from the air.

both peter and sirius’ eyes widened and shared a look before taking concern to your arching figure. “m’god i didn’t think it hurt that bad!” you groaned into your hands that could almost be seen as trembling from the agony that you were in as james’ team mates brought him down to the infirmary to check for injuries which he did in-fact have.

after sirius had brought you to your dorm, attempting to do a spell to rid you of most-but not all of your pain he raced to healers wing, seeing james on the verge of unconsciousness as madam pomfrey tried to whip up a potion in a fast manner to heal the boy.

i guess it was true— james was your soulmate. your soulmate in love with another woman that is.

a few hours later james was ordered to stay the night for observation, while both sirius and peter decided to catch up remus along with james up on the other ‘things’ more, or less, that occurred during the quidditch match.

him, and lily.... weren’t soulmates? he thought maybe one day they would’ve ended up together, at some point. not his very best friend being the one he’s ‘destined’ with. but he was desperate to speak with you, how did you know? did you even know? how bad did it hurt? he had so many questions scattered around his brain, until he saw your face that was close to a grimace from pain.

“hi.” you whispered, catching his attention.

“hey.” he whispered back hoarsely, gulping at the sudden tension in the room.

“so we’re—“ “you’re my—“ you both spoke at the same time, following an humourless more-so nervous chuckle, from the both of you.

“how long— did you even know?” james started, looking at your figure as if you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

you sat down nervously, cracking your knuckles as you were unsure where to start. “i thought— i started wondering, that day me and rem were playing chess and you fell.” you cleared your throat while speaking, avoiding eye contact entirely. “my knees started to hurt, but i didn’t even notice it. the day that you came into the common room limping, was when i suspected it.” you wrung your fingers together nervously, then looking into his irises.

“you knew? why didn’t you—“ his anger already starting to get the best of him, you knew that you were his soulmate. you were right in-front of him, but you never told him; he almost felt betrayed.

“i didn’t know! only suspected. but you have to understand, james. you were incessantly pinning after lily, you claimed you were ‘in love with her’. you’re making it seem like it was gonna be so easy for me to tell you that ‘guess what, james! the girl you love actually isn’t your soulmate and it’s your best friend you have no interest in!’ prongs, m’fraud s’not that easy.” you mocked, proving your correct argument to him based on his actions.

he took a shaky breath, analyzing basically his whole life in-front of him. even though he might’ve ‘loved’ lily, you were still more important to him. soulmate or not, he would always go to you first. he could barely stand to fight with you, he couldn’t loose you over some silly crush that he had.

“it doesn’t matter— lily— she doesn’t matter. y/n it’s you, soulmate, not soulmate, who cares! lily or not lily, you’ve always been my go-to, my number one, i mean you’ve always been the most important!” he said drastically while punctuating his words, and flailing his arms in the air to prove his point to you.

you sighed looking at him, almost unsure of his words. he looked at you expectantly before speaking again, “i’ll get on my knees right now and beg to you. with broken— well now bruised but priory broken ribs. not to mention my stubbed toe.” he chuckled at last second trying to humour you.

“oh my g— get up!” you snickered at him, james potter was on his knees fighting all the pride in his system right in-front of you where you were sat. his hands grasped both sides of your thighs trying to soothe you into you forgiving him.

at the sight of him right infront of you, with the best sirius black puppy dog eyes he could muster with a pouted lip you immediately gave in. “fine.” you sighed, “fine, fine, fine.” you giggled.

both of his hands encasing your cheeks, a small pout on your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his elbows resting on your thighs. you looked at him pretending to ponder off in thought; shrugging while you spoke, “hmmm, maybe. i gues—“ he quickly cut you off, kissing your pouted lips in the middle of a sentence.

you kissed back, holding his face between your agile fingers. your right hand resting on his squared jaw and the other in his fluffy and borderline-sweaty hair. your lips slotting together, he could feel the mint taste from the gum you have chewed earlier bleed onto his tastebuds; you on the other hand, not such a memorable taste.

you quickly pulled away, a dramatic whine escaping from his throat. “you remember when you face planted into the dirt earlier?” you giggled while asking him. he looked at you confused; why would... you... be asking if he remembered himself falling?

“erm, yeah i can recall.”

“yeah your mouth tastes like dirt.”

taglist: @fathermarty @kittykylax @ronweasleyluvr @aspiringsloth20 @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

if your username is crossed out that means you gave me the wrong username or your settings for public display tags are off!

#james potter one shot #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x oc #james potter x you #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter fanart #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter

[seeyounexttime]

As you may know, Black Clover is having an online exhibition. If you look at it here (has to be on mobile though) you see 0/20 and 0% in the corner. I saw the screenshots that some people shared also have zeroes and wondered... After some clicking around and struggling with Japanese, I’ve gotten a full score :D

So for those who want to know what to do, or can’t see the exhibition yourself for whatever reason, I’ve made a walkthrough that’s what it’s called right?

First, you’re asked to please turn on the sound and enjoy. There’s an ON and OFF option

Devil Possessed Work Is On Display. DEVILS AND ~THE DON’T GIVE UP MAGICAL EXHIBIT~ Black Clover 6th Year Anniversary Celebration

The Spade Kingdom’s evil devil hosts have set their hands on Black Clover’s online exhibition, the “Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit”, from the 5th year anniversary celebration!? Only the “devil-possessed works” were shining a suspicious light in the transformed exhibition hall.

[yellow/gold box] To the Devils and Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit >>

Asta has newly awakened devil power!? -- Together with the devil Liebe, get power to confront the invasion of the Spade Kingdom, including the Dark Triad!

[white/silver box] To the Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit >>

Complete Revival of the “Won’t Give Up Magical Exhibit”!? -- Because of the Spade Kingdom’s invasion, the “Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit” has ended up in miserable condition, but Nero’s sealing magic has succeeded in completely returning it to the way it used to be! Let’s dive into the work and explore Asta and friend’s “won’t give up magic”

I recommend starting with the previous year’s exhibit, so flip your phone to the side and click the white box with Nero on the corner..~

A little tutorial: you can click in the picture frames, swipe, and pinch the screen. Nero says “I’ll tell you if you get lost. Don’t worry.”

“Not giving up magic” isn’t only Asta’s magic.

Everyone who supported Black Clover will surely have the power of “not giving up magic.” Now, with your magic power, let’s dive into the world of Black Clover’s story.

PROMISE -- 約束 (yakusoku) -- The source of the power of Asta’s “not giving up magic” was a “promise” with his rival, who pursues the dream that they can never give up on, called “to become the Wizard King.”

Nero says “Tap the framed picture.”

This causes a little manga movie to play - about Asta and Yuno of course. Their promise, words exchanged at the dungeon, that time they saved Hage, and times they fought side by side in the Elf Arc are shown. When it comes to an end, it displays this manga spread:

Nero says “Tap the demon’s bones...”

This plays a manga movie about Licht’s and Lumiere’s tragic battle...

Nero says “Tap the icon on the upper left to return to the original world.”

You’ll be taken back the Promise screen and should now have 1/20 at the bottom corner

PRIDE -- 誇り (hokori) -- Magic Knight Squads that protect the world with magical power. The Wizard King with the magic knight captains whom he brings together. It is that “pride” built up due to their overwhelming achievements that is the source of power.

Again, tap the framed pictures. A slideshow of their most prominent moments (before the timeskip) play. At the end is a panel of their most impressive spell at least that’s what I think they were trying to do here?

Nero says “You want to know more about your comrades right”

Tap the yellow button next to her (it says “see details+”). This pops up:

At the top is their type of magic. Then a short description about them. The rest is mostly stats that were already in their manga profile’s + a little extra. In order it’s: {their name ☘, age, height, birthday, sign, blood type, favorite thing, birthplace, and rank}

Yami’s birthplace is the Land of the Sun; Dorothy’s is the Witch’s Forest; Jack’s is in the Common Realm; everyone else was born in the Noble Realm

COMPLEX -- 劣等感 (rettoukan) -- A person who can deal with their “inferiority complex” is also a blessed person who has the chance to become stronger than anyone else.

*note: the kanji specifically refers to “inferiority complex”

A manga movie about her struggles with magic plays, then switches to this:

Nero says “Pinch out and move forward.”

As you “zoom in” panels of Noelle’s development with spells, from Sea Dragon’s Lair to Valkyrie Dress, rotate around, ending with:

“I... won....!!”

FRIENDSHIP -- 絆 (kizuna) -- For their precious friends, sometimes a person can even go as far as surpassing their limits. A magic blow vested with the “bonds” of friends has defeated any despair.

*note: the kanji means “bonds (between people)”

Nero says “If you look at all the framed pictures of bonds…”

When you click on each framed picture, you get panels like in the Complex section but these one’s don’t rotate

It focuses on an important fight for each Black Bull, I think one that emphasizes their bonds with someone and/or teamwork. Magna & Luck share framed pictures; Gauche, Gordon, Grey and Henry share another. Usually at the end you see the kanji for their magic attribute (Charmy’s ends with “food magic”)

Like with the captains, there’s also a panel of them looking impressive. Again, Nero says “You want to learn more about your friends right.”

At the top is their name, description about them, then Profile ☘ and stats in the same order as the captain’s in the Pride section. I want to note that Charmy’s birthplace is literally “?”

But Before You Finish Looking At All The Frames-!! swipe left and take a look 👀

Try to tap this~  Nero says “If you look at all the framed pictures, there will be something good.”

After you watch the 8th one, you’ll find that the middle frame has lit up

“Tap the framed picture” Nero says. A manga movie about the Black Bulls plays, showing their good and awesome times, then ending in the group shot of when they busted in during Asta’s and Nero’s trial --but wait!! there’s more!!!

We’re moving left-?! Omg SECRE-!??

“Well done, you undid the seal.”

“I will undo the seal with my magic.”

Sealing Magic

Inverse Release

LOVE -- 愛 (ai) -- The magic of Black Clover has been sustained by the “love” of everyone who continuously supported all the characters, including Asta and Yuno, and this story. Thank you very much for so much “love.”

That’s right: you just unlocked Love :’)

Tapping it opens up a high-quality image that you can download for yourself.

Nero says “It’s a commemorative wallpaper. It’s yours.”

☘ Instant Posting Magic ☘ Let’s share with everyone that we came to play Black Clover’s 5th anniversary project “Never Giving Up Magic” 📖 Use Instant Posting Magic

Tapping that opens up twitter. Nero says “Post in celebration.”

--but wait! there’s even more!! swipe one more time 👀

Zenon, what are you doing here? staring at a framed picture of the Heart Kingdom... Tap it, Nero says

oh shit

a preview of volume 25 plays

Click Here For Part 2~! ☠ 

※✧※

*Disclaimer: The exhibit used 諦めない魔法 (akiramenai mahou). Akiramenai is the negative form of the verb akirameru "to give up" and mahou is "magic." It's definitely a reference to Asta's "my magic is never giving up" line, and I guess it could be translated as "magic that doesn't give up" but doesn't that make it sound like he has magic? This becomes more of an issue when they begin to apply it to others beside Asta... So yeah, sorry that sounds awkward. Also depending on context and because I got tired of repeating the same phrase I changed the form from "don't give up" to "not giving up" and others.

I was using google translate quite a bit, after I looked up kanji by parts because I couldn't copy-paste the pictures (it was decent practice; I think I can totally identify the word "not giving up" now). This isn't an official release, but I did try to clean things up to at least sound coherent and give you a better idea of what's going on.

#black clover #asta #yuno #noelle silva #yami sukehiro #black clover exhibition #long post #black clover asta #black clover yuno

[ijustwant2write]

Different Worlds-Fred Weasley x Muggle! Reader

(GIF credit to @avocadosalad2​)

Masterlist

Prompts List

Requested by anonymous: 'Could you do a Fred Weasley after the war imagine (where he doesn’t die) and he falls in love with a muggle'

Summary: (Y/N) may be a muggle, but she was introduced to the hidden magical world once she realised her best friend was a witch. Years later, after they have both graduated, she finds herself drawn towards the magic, as well as a particular person.

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff

(A/N: Beatrice is a made up character)

                                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As I stirred the milk into the mug of tea, I continued listening to Beatrice babble on about the rude man on the train, who had insisted that she was sat in his seat, when she had clearly reserved it. I smiled, picking up the mugs and heading back into the living room, handing one to her. She blew on it, testing how hot it was before taking a tiny sip.

“But anyway, enough about twats in London.” Bea waved her hand.“I’ve got some exciting news!”

“Yeah? What is it?” I put down my own mug, ready to squeal and jump about with her.

“You know that shop I had my eye on?”

“The one in um...oh what’s it called? Diagonal street?”

She laughed.“Diagon Alley.”

“Ah, right.”

“Anyway, I went for another viewing the other week, and I got a letter through this morning to say that it is now mine!”

I grabbed her hands, squeezing them.“That’s fantastic! Oh my god, you’ve been wanting your own shop since we were kids!”

“I know! I’ve already had new flooring put down, it’s just been painted too. Now all that’s left is to organise how I want the furniture and to put stock out on display.”

Bea had always loved her fashion when she was younger. She would always complain about how basic her uniform was (even pointing out how boring muggle uniform was as well), and always added different accessories or made her own clothes. This hobby carried on, she became a great seamstress (the magic probably helped), knowing that this was something she wanted to do. Now she was opening a clothes shop that would also sell things like accessories, notebooks, pens etc. 

“I’m so happy for you.” I hugged her.

“You know, I am going to need help moving in...”

“Wait, you want me to come with you?”

Bea nodded.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“No, don’t be silly! You’re with me, and you’re only visiting. Plus you’ve known about all of this since we were twelve. I haven’t used the Obliviate spell on you, and I’m still not in trouble.”

“Sorry, you haven’t what?”

“Don’t worry about it. So, you want to accompany me to little old Diagon Alley?”

A couple of days later, Beatrice visited me again, leading me out of my little flat and onto the tube. We practically had to go to the other side of London, making me feel bad when she visited me all those times. When we finally got off, and after walking for another ten minutes, we stood in front of an abandoned building stuck between a record and book shop. Glancing at Bea, who was staring at the uninviting building, I wondered what I had got myself into.

“Uh, Bea, we’re not going in there are we?” I asked as she dragged me towards it.

“Just trust me.”

She pushed open the door, which made a worrying creaking noise, and I was scared that if we shut it too hard, the whole place would collapse. However, instead of a dusty room with broken floor boards and bending beams, we seemed to be in a pub. There were a few people already in here, sat at various tables with their drinks. A worker walked past, waving their hand which made some scattered chairs tuck underneath the table. My eyes widened as I watched, realising that I had stepped into a different world. Beatrice laughing at me brought me back into reality as she held onto my hand again. 

“Alright Tom?” She called out to the bartender.

“Ah, here once again Beatrice? Oh, this the muggle you were on about?” he replied as he leaned against the bar.

“Yep, this is she. I’m taking her to the shop, which I now own!”

“Ah, congratulations! Head on back then.”

They said their goodbyes and I was being steered away again, this time outside. There was a wall blocking us, and to anyone else it would be a dead end, but I knew something was about to happen. Bea revealed her wand, tapping it around a part of the wall where bricks were missing. Stepping back, my eyes widened as the bricks started moving, separating to reveal a busy street. 

“Oh, this is just too precious. Wish I had captured the moment.” Bea said.

I must have stuck out like a sore thumb; I couldn’t shut my mouth, checking out everything around me, eyebrows furrowing as my mind tried to comprehend how this was possible. Men and women passed me in long robes, some sporting the stereotypical witches hats. There were broomsticks, animals such as owls and cats, things floating by me. My brain was well and truly frazzled. 

As we came to Bea’s new shop, I was still in awe, my eyes landing on a bright orange shop, with an animatronic of a man who was putting on a top hat. I could see lots of younger children in there. Explosions of light appeared, objects were flying around, I could hear the laughter across the street.   

“Kind of hard to miss right?” Bea giggled as she unlocked the shop. 

“Yeah. Looks amazing in there.”

“That’s Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. I went to school with the guys who own it. Onto more important matters, after you.”

I walked into the shop, grinning as I looked around. It wasn't huge, but it had a vintage look to it; the floor was a dark wood, and the walls were painted a lighter cream colour to contrast it. Currently it was empty, in one corner were mannequins, display tables and railings to hang the clothes on.

"I've got everything mapped out, I just need to move bits around." Bea said.

"It's going to look great when it's finished. I bet you're so excited to open."

"Are you OK by the way? I just realised how much this must all be."

"I love it here! I'm surrounded by magic, what more could I want?"

We spent the next few hours moving the furniture around, trying out new things to see what worked, where it would be best to display the stock. People passed by the window in large groups, but now there were less, the sun was going down, and shop owners were starting to close up. We followed suit, putting everything back in the corner before leaving the shop.

"Hello neighbour." a man called out across the street.

We turned around, seeing a tall man in a suit outside of the shop I noticed upon arrival.

"Oh, I forgot I would be seeing you every day." Bea groaned, obviously joking.

"You don't have to lie to me, we're one of the reasons you bought the place."

Bea began walking towards him, I followed behind."Fred, this is (Y/N). She's a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you." he smiled.

"You too." I replied, wishing I didn't sound so quiet.

"Already got your staff sorted then?"

"(Y/N)'s an old friend of mine. I had to show her the shop. And Diagon Alley."

Fred caught on, realising that I wasn't a witch."Oh, right. Welcome to the other side."

"Thanks. It's been amazing so far."

“Well, it couldn’t have been that good, I didn’t see you in our shop today.”

“He’s so humble, isn’t he?” Bea rolled her eyes.“Well, that’s just another reason for her to come tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“I look forward to seeing you then.” Fred casually winked before saying goodbye to us both, realising his name was being called from the shop. 

“OK, what just happened?” I gasped, feeling extremely flushed.

“Those Weasley boys are natural flirts. But that was very interesting.”

“There’s more of them?!”

Bea just shook her head, looping her arms through mine as she lead me away from the shop, telling (not asking) me to return with her again tomorrow. I didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

With Bea unaware, I had immediately gone to choose an outfit for the next day as soon as I made it home. I just wanted to look a little more presentable, it definitely wasn’t because I wanted to present myself well in front of anyone. Once I had decided on a casual outfit, though something that still showed I had put some effort in, I settled down for the night, lying on the sofa with my dinner. Even with the TV on in the background, I couldn’t concentrate on the programme. It felt strange to be back in my world, not surrounded by magic. I was half expecting objects in my flat to start moving by themselves. 

Bea had told me about her being a witch when she received her letter to Hogwarts. I wasn’t supposed to know, especially at a young age, but Beatrice had been so scared to lose our friendship. Her parents were muggles, so where the magic came from was a mystery. I missed her extremely, hating that Hogwarts was a boarding school. But once Bea was old enough to use magic outside of school, she graced me with all the spells she learnt, it was so enchanting to watch. Bea had returned to the muggle world for a few years once she finished her education, but now that her dream of owning a shop was coming true, she wouldn’t be living near me anymore; that’s what was really weighed on my mind.

Bea and I returned to her shop the next morning. I didn’t mention anything of my thoughts from the night before, not wanting to ruin the day. Seeing the other shop owners setting up for the day set a different atmosphere, some who were outside greeted us along the way. Bea got out her keys, but hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“Nothing. I just think we should pay my fellow businessmen a visit.” she said, a wide smile on her face.

“No, cause you’ll just embarrass me!” I whined.

“No I won’t. Honestly, you need to see their shop, it’s bizarre.”

I knew she had a scheme planned, but part of me wanted to go along with it. As we approached, I glanced at my reflection in the window, tucking away any strands of hair that had fallen out of my up-do. Before we could knock on the door, Fred appeared, swinging it wide open.

“Ah, our most loyal customers are here.” He grinned letting us in.

“Good morning George.” Bea waltzed in.

Oh, this was his twin. 

“Fred has told me all about you, (Y/N), right?” George extended his hand.

I shook it as I nodded.“Yes, Sorry, I forgot you there were two of you for a moment.”

“Double trouble is what they are.” Bea mumbled.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he exclaimed, presenting grandly with his arm. 

Cautiously walking around, I ducked out of the way as a Frisbee flew past me, smiling at what looked like mini fireworks before scrunching my nose up at a box labelled ‘Puking Pastels’. I explored everywhere, going upstairs to search further. The amount of jokes and prank items they had seemed endless. Looking over the railing, I saw Bea chatting away to George. It made me wonder where Fred was, but that question was soon answered.

“Do you come here often?” Fred slid up to me, leaning beside me on the railing.

I chuckled.“Funnily enough, this is my first time here. And did you really just use that line on me?”

“Works every time.” he winked, causing me to look away as I blushed. 

“This shop is amazing Fred.” I sighed in content.“Are those really Love Potions down there?”

“Ah, caught your eye?”

“I mean, how could it not? Doesn’t everyone want a love potion to make their lives so much easier?”

“It’s not permanent. Besides, falling in love is the fun part.”

I didn’t question if he had been in love. It was too soon to be asking things such as that. 

Fred continued.“Can’t believe Bea waited so long to bring you here. She talks about you all the time.”

“She does?”

“Yep. I probably know more about you than you think.”

My eyes widened jokingly.“I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“It’s very good, trust me.”

“I don’t think I would ever want to leave now. Couldn’t stop smiling when I was home.”

Fred opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Bea calling up to us.“Come on you two, it’s my turn now.”

Not knowing what she meant, we headed downstairs, realising that Bea wanted to show the twins her shop. Making our way across the road, Fred and I walked behind the others as they continued talking, even as Bea unlocked the shop. 

“I mean, you’ve still got quite a bit of work to do Bea.” George joked as they walked around the empty space.

“I know that. But that’s why I have (Y/N) here to help me.” She smiled at me.

“It’s a good space. You got everything planned?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, we moved the furniture around a few times yesterday, so I’ve got options. And of course I had my wonderful assistant to help.”

“She didn’t even buy me a drink after.” I said.

“I can pay you.”

“What? Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious. Because I need to know if I have to put you on the payroll.”

“Bea, what are you saying?”

She grinned but I could see she was nervous.“How would you like to work here with me?”

My mouth dropped wide open, eyes bulging out of my head. I was shocked, speechless even. Out of the corner of my eye I saw George nudge his brother, smirking at him as Fred looked annoyed.

“Oh, this is making me anxious.” Bea whispered, gripping her hands together despite her happy expression.

“You really want me to work here? But where would I live?”

“With me obviously!”

“Is that allowed?”

“Yes, I checked. Oh (Y/N) please, you always say you’re not happy with your job and that you want to live somewhere nicer.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“OK, but I can tell you’re not entirely happy.”

I took a deep breath as I smiled.“Bea, I would love to work here.” She squealed, running towards me and throwing out her arms, embracing me tightly. I squeezed her back, feeling very emotional. Bea wanted me here. She trusted me to live in this world of hers, she wanted to share her dream with me.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” George said as Bea and I ended the hug.

“Looks like.” I wiped my eyes, hoping I didn’t look like a sap for crying.

“Right,” Bea put her hands on her hips,“well, we best get on with the day. Catch you boys later?” 

They nodded, already making their way out. Bea smiled at me one last time, disappearing into the backroom. As I looked around the space, I noticed Fred still by the door, hesitating to walk out.

“You alright there Fred?” I asked, approaching him.

“Yeah...um,” he closed the door, coming inside again,“so,now that you’re living here, once you’re settled that is....do you fancy going out sometime?”

I was taken back, flustered which caused me to stutter.“Uh, y-yeah, I-I would love to!”

He nodded, pleased with the answer.“Good, it’s a date then.”

I awkwardly waved as he left, watching him enter his own shop. He turned around, seeing me still looking, sending yet another wink my way. He already knew how to embarrass me. Feeling my heart flutter, I slowly turned around, only to see Bea standing there.

“Oh, I am so good at playing Cupid.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

[pepper-up-potion]

The early hours of the morning (Oliver Wood x Fem!reader)

Summary: Oliver helps reader sneak out so they can spend some time together.

A/n: This was very self indulgent. I wrote it last night when I was thinking about how much I wish I could sneak out and see my boyfriend. Since I can’t because of the lockdown I wrote a fic about it instead. This was initially going to be a blurb and I just went off so I hope you like it.

Warnings: mention of strict parents but other than it’s fluff. Prob writing mistakes. Let me know if you think of any that I missed.

Word count: 2620

(Y/n) paces her room, the letter from Oliver clasped tightly in her hand. She’s so nervous, her stomach is flipping upside down and then rightside up and upside down again. It’s the first week of July. (Y/n) has come back home for the summer to her muggle house in the suburbs. (Y/n)’s parents have always been strict. She was often the first to leave parties when she was little and rarely did her parents let her stay for sleepovers at friends’ houses. When old family friends her age have parties, they are very reluctant to let her go. It was then no surprise when her parents refused her request to go stay at her boyfriend’s over the summer.

(Y/N) can normally accept her fate but some might say Oliver has a bad influence on her. She would argue the opposite. Oliver brings out a side of her she’s never seen before. With him, she’s adventurous, wild, spontaneous, fun, goofy. She feels her age with Oliver. Oliver is teaching her that sometimes, most of the time, it’s okay to put yourself first.

Maybe it’s because she misses him. Maybe it’s because she’s tired of following the rules. Maybe it’s simply because she wants to, but something has taunted her to agree to disobey her parents. Oliver is on his way to see her and she’s pacing her room waiting for him. She feels excited, there’s something exhilarating about doing what she wants. She feels scared, her parents are in the room next door and they could catch her. She feels giddy, she hasn’t seen Oliver in a while and it almost feels like a first date.

The thought of seeing Oliver calms her a little. She‘s always felt safe with him. She knows that no matter what happens, he‘ll be there for her. It brings a small smile to her face. She settles on her bed and looks at Oliver‘s squished writing in his letter.

“I’ll meet you at 12:00am sharp.” She read before drifting her eyes to her alarm clock next to her bed. The clock ticks from 11:59 to 12:00. There’s a sudden knock that makes her jump. She looks to her door but it doesn’t open. She stands moving closer to the door. Her parents should be asleep by now so she assumes it’s Oliver. Her heart is quickly bumping her rib cage and she feels dizzy with nerves. There’s another knock but she realizes it isn’t coming from the door. The sound is too quiet and muffled to come from the door. She turns to her window and finds the source of the knock. It’s Oliver. Her Oliver.

She quickly walks up to the window, a wide smile on her face. She slides the window open and peaks her head out. Oliver is on a broom, hovering next to her house. He leans over and links his lips to hers. It’s a quick peck but it fills her stomach with butterflies.

“Miss me?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“More than you think.” She admits, unable to preserve her delight.

He smiles softly. “I missed you too.” He says, almost in a whisper. Lost in the moment (y/n) had not noticed Oliver was holding a second broom in his hand. Once he sees her looking at it, he puts his arm out for her to take the broom. His smile is mischievous. Maybe this is why people say he’s a bad influence. (Y/n) has a defiant look as she firmly grasps the broom and pulls herself onto her window ledge. She hops onto the broom and hovers alongside Oliver.

Oliver gives her another peck on the lips before flying off, (y/n) quickly following suit. They fly high into the sky, passing through the clouds. Oliver being Oliver makes flying a competition. He zooms through the sky and (y/n) won’t go down without a fight. She leans forward and her broom speeds up. She can hear the wind whooshing past her as she cuts through the air. The feeling of the wind is liberating. She feels invincible. Here in the sky, no one can tell her to come down. No one can tell her what to do.

She catches up to Oliver and smirks at the look of surprise on his face. They are tail to tail for the rest of the trip. One minute (y/n) has the advantage, next it’s Oliver. After many snarky comments and flirtatious tease, Oliver signals to slow down. Together they fly closer to the horizon, they’re out of the clouds and (y/n) can see a small town with little shops and houses scattered between tall trees. Oliver points to a house that she assumes he means to tell is his. They land on the outskirts of town and Oliver drops his broom and runs to pull (y/n) into a hug. He sweeps her up off the ground and twirls her as he exclaims in loud happy cheers. (Y/n) giggles and buries her head into Oliver’s neck. She smiles at the familiar feeling of his arms around her waist, his smell, his laugh. It fills her with delight. She’s convinced it’s the best night of her summer and the night has barely begun.

He links his hand with hers and guides her back to his broom. He bends down and picks it up before starting his trek towards town.

“That was a good fly. You kept me on my toes there.” He laughs happily, always up for a challenge. “I’d take you on my quidditch team any day.” He admits.

“Wow.” She exclaims. “That’s high praise coming from mister quidditch know-it-all.” It’s a playful tease, there’s nothing but adoration in the comment. Oliver bows his head sheepishly. (Y/n) giggles at his reaction, proud she could get him all flustered. He stops suddenly and turns to face (y/n). Her giggles are replaced with a look of confusion.

“What’s wrong? Why are we stopped?” She asks while scanning Oliver’s face for an indication.

“Merlin I’m so happy to see you.” He blurts, shaking his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you’ve agreed to see me.”

“Don’t remind me. I’ll get so angsty that I’ll want to go back.” The thought of disobeying her parents fills her with guilt. “Let’s not talk about that. Tonight it’s just you and me.”

Oliver drops his broom and nods sympathetically before taking her broom and discarding it too. He gathers both (y/n)’s hands in his and places a soft kiss on each hand. He drops them and steps forward, cupping her cheek and kissing her lips. It’s a slow kiss. They relax into each other relishing in the feeling they’ve missed so dearly. It feels like coming home after a terrible bus ride. Everything else in the world is forgotten. It’s exactly what she wanted, just her and Oliver.

They kiss for a long time. When they finally pull apart, Oliver places his forehead on hers as he gently rubs her cheek with his thumb. She dips her head into his hand deepening the caress. His eyes are soft as he looks at her admiringly.

“You’re beautiful.” He whisperers. Butterflies flutter in (y/n)’s stomach again. She thinks Oliver should add it to his list of qualities. If he were applying for a job he could write: good at quidditch and giving my girlfriend butterflies and she would most willingly confirm the statement. She smiles and chuckles awkwardly before pulling Oliver into her arms. They hold each other in silence making up for missed time.

“I missed you so much.” It's a pained whisper. She can hear the emotion in his voice as he runs his finger through her hair. She squeezes him tighter into her arms. “I missed you too.” She whispers back. The moment feels so delicate and precious. It feels as though speaking in a normal register would shatter it.

They finally separate and start walking again. Once into town, Oliver points to all the different shops and neighbours’ houses as he provides detailed explanations of each place. It’s a small wizarding town she had never heard of until she met Oliver. He’s told her about it many times but it’s even better than he described. She secretly dreams of spending more time in the town. She hopes to one day walk through it during the day, getting to put a face to all the names Oliver is sharing.

Oliver stops in front of a house and turns to (y/n). “Well, this is me.” He says rocking onto his heels. It’s hard to see the details of the house, with the dim street lights but it has a cottage-like look to it. It’s a dark wooden, three-floor house with a steep roof and navy blue window panels. It looks a little crooked, much like the other buildings in the town. There’s a chimney puffing purple smoke that smells of lavender. It’s simple, small and homey.

“I love it.” She turns her gaze back to Oliver with bright eyes. His eyes widen and he smiles wide. “Wanna see the inside?” He asks, clasping her hand. She nods enthusiastically and he leads her to the front door.

“We have to be quiet, my parents are sleeping.” He explains before stepping in. The door creaks behind them and they both freeze, shoulders tight with worry. The house remains quiet and they take it as an indication to continue. Oliver guides her through the front entrance, into the living room and kitchen area. It’s (y/n)’s first time in a wizard house. She’s slightly disappointed with how “normal” it looks. The decor is rustic and simple. The house looks well lived in, everything has a purpose. It looks like a proper home. She finds it very comforting. Oliver places a hand on her lower back and stretches his other arm in front of him. She follows his arm and sees an open door that leads into darkness. She looks at him hesitantly and he gives her an encouraging nod and a gentle push on her back.

“It’s the basement. We’ll get more privacy there than in my room.” He explains in a whisper. She nods and walks down the stairs after lighting her wand. Once in the room, she looks around as Oliver turns on the candles. It fills the room with a soft glow as she takes note of the futon couch in the middle of the room, the bookshelf in the corner, the coffee table pressed up against the wall, the broom wax kit on the table. Everything about the room screams Oliver so it evidently becomes her new favourite room. She makes herself at home and throws herself onto the couch with a happy sigh.

She pats at the spot next to her on the futon and looks at Oliver expectantly. He chuckles as he settles next to her. “You’re an absolute delight.” He states, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

They start off the night by playing wizards chess. Oliver’s competitive side comes out as he tries to get under (y/n)’s skin. He pouts a little when he loses but she makes up for it in cuddles. They’ve moved the futon so it’s a bed rather than a couch allowing them more space to stretch out. (Y/n) is lying on top of Oliver. She’s running her hands through his hair as he rubs circles on her back. Oliver gives her all the news of the wizarding world. He talks especially about quidditch which she gladly listens to. She loves when his eyes light up and he talks fast and passionately and he occasionally emphasizes his point with hand gestures.

The rest of the night they make out on the futon, occasionally mumbling sweet nothings as they catch their breath. His hands travel all over her body as he pulls her closer to him. They get lost in the feeling of each other’s touch. It’s grounding, warm and she easily forgets everything else.

There are no windows in the room and she has no way to judge the time. She guesses they’ve been up for most of the night and it is now far into the early hours of the morning. At that moment, it’s not important, nothing matters other than him. Oliver’s strong build under her and his big arms wrapped around her make her feel safe and peaceful. She’s hit with a sudden wave of tiredness and soon she’s drifted off to sleep. Oliver continues to rub circles between her shoulder blades as she sleeps until he too, dozes off.

When she finally wakes she feels groggy and confused. They didn’t get much sleep, maybe two hours. Oliver is mumbling something but she can hardly make sense of it. A sudden wave of adrenaline hits her and she shoots up with a terrified look. Oliver props his head up to better look at her. He goes to ask her what’s wrong but she beats him to it.

“Oliver, what time is it?” She's shaking as he fiddles around her looking for his watch that he discarded somewhere. “Oli!” She whines impatiently. He finally grabs a hold of his watch and winces. “What? Oli what time?” There’s panic in her voice.

“7:00.” He states hesitantly. Before he can calm her down she’s up, gathering her shoes and jacket. He’s right behind her, stomping on a shoe after the other. They run out grabbing the brooms in the front entrance. She’s not three steps onto the street before she’s straddling her broom and pushing off the ground. Oliver mimics her, quickly catching up to her in the sky.

“Race ya.” He shouts over the howling wind.

“Oliver.” She scolds. “I am late!”

Oliver shrugs. “Can't change the time but you can make the best of it.” He states simply. (Y/n)’s eyes narrow as she darts forward. “See you there.” She shouts behind her, turning her head just in time to see Oliver’s shocked face.

Once in her neighbourhood, they carefully scan the streets to make sure they can hover down safely. It’s a Sunday morning, most people are still sleeping. They quietly fly to her bedroom window. She crawls back through it and hands Oliver the broom. “Thanks, Oli. That was the most fun I’ve had all summer.” She wonders why she hadn’t accepted to do this sooner. Oliver’s face twists into a mischievous smirk. “I‘ll see you tomorrow? Same time?” He raises a brow as if to say I dare you to say yes. She smiles widely as she pushes her upper body back out the window for one last kiss.

“Don’t be late.” She chirps. She shimmies back into her room blowing a kiss to Oliver as he flies away. She removes her shoes and jacket before curling back into her bed. There's a knock and she looks to the window. There’s no one there. She frowns slightly as her bedroom door opens.

“Everything okay?” Asks her mom. “I thought I heard something.”

(Y/n) mumbles some gibberish pretending to have been woken up by her. Her mother concludes it was just (y/n)’s owl and retreats back to her room. (Y/n) plops her head back onto her pillow as she lets the effects of the night settle. The excitement of sneaking out of her house and into his. The wind in her face as she zoomed through the sky. The feeling of her lips on his. It was all so exhilarating and she couldn’t wait to repeat it again tomorrow.

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x fem!reader #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood reader insert

[alphardblacks]

alphard black, the brightest of stars in the noble, ancient house of black — his story, in a post.

alphard was born in the may of 1927, in the month of springs last darling, marking hope for the winters end, to pollux and irma black. he had an elder sister, walburga, and a younger brother, cygnus. he was sorted into slytherin house in the september of 1938, with tom riddle.

on the way to hogwarts, he befriended the said young tom riddle. he was quiet and silent, and he seemed unfamiliar with the ways of the wizarding world. it was alphard who educated tom on the great wizarding families - something his parents had instilled in him from a young age.

it didn't take long for the young alphard to find his way. with his elder sister in the year above at school, he did his best to maintain his image. however, he soon shed it to play for slytherin in the quidditch team. his tastes were more active than academic.

one of the acquaintances he kept throughout hogwarts was tom riddle. as the boys became older, they became closer. he told tom of the history of the wizarding world, and the noble families, though he himself had no care for the subjects the strange boy wanted to explore so much.

when tom attends a quidditch match begrudgingly, he sees alphard in a new light. he's fascinated in ways men usually were not fascinated with each other - he had never known an emotion like it. it seemed as though alphard felt the same, but they kept it secret.

alphard finds that by his final year at hogwarts, he has fallen deeply for tom. and tom realises that being with alphard is the closest he would ever feel to experiencing love. alphard didn't worship tom the way the others did. they were equals. but alas; they could never be.

but toms heart grew darker and his ideas for the future became too much for alphard to bear. each day he was less of the man he loved. alphard confronts tom about this, and in a rage, tom tells him they can never be together regardless, because of society, so he will not change.

alphard leaves hogwarts to take part in the war effort, to distance himself from the wizarding world that tom was infiltrating and slowly disrupting. whilst the other soldiers discussed their future wives and children, he could only think of the life he would never have with tom.

alphard was involved in a battle that left him injured, and news spread to his family that he was dead, including tom riddle. this loss is what makes tom snap, and his spree of killings worsen. by the time alphard recovers, the pain of what tom has done is too much to bear.

when he returns, and despite his family's wishes, alphard never marries. he could never live a lie with a woman and could never live in happiness with a man. he never has children but adores his nephews and nieces - particularly sirius and regulus.

living with the blacks was terrible for sirius and regulus, and if it hadn't been for uncle alphard, they would live their lives in uncomfortable solitude, with suppressed personalities in order to be deemed "proper". with alphard, they were free, and for the first time, happy.

walburga detested her boys being around what she deemed "muggle activities". alphard, being in the war, had picked up much of these, and showed them to his nephews. the nephews would visit him over summer and inspect his medals, whilst he told the in awe pair his war stories.

a core memory for the boys was alphard taking them to muggle london; buying sirius his first record from a stall, showing regulus muggle books like treasure island. he takes them to see movies, and the boys were too giddy to stay silent, though had to remain proper at home.

often, he would find the boys in their room at his estate, battling with sticks and pretending to be "spartacus". regulus particularly enjoyed their re-enactments of "a hard days night", where he would play ringo and pretend to drum for hours.

and as a young child, little regulus had been inspecting alphards hogwarts memories when he smashed a photo of him, and a young man, side by side. of course, as he always did, sirius told him to run upstairs, often taking the blame to spare his little brother from the rod.

fear filled sirius' heart, thinking of his punishment when alphard has turned the corner to inspect what happened. "i'm sorry uncle alphard!" he blurted out, too used to his mother and fathers cruel ways, and their punishments.

however, the emotion on alphards face was not anger, but worry. "did you hurt yourself? there's glass everywhere ..." for the first time sirius had experienced, alphard looked at him with a smile, and ruffled his hair. "don't be sorry, my boy. it's easily fixed."

tears filled the child's eyes, and he hugged the man tightly; he had never heard those words before. he had never hugged anyone before. his uncle embraced him tightly, protectively, and sirius knew that he would never be unloved so long as he had his uncle.

when sirius was sorted into gryffindor, he was full of terror. but his monthly letters from uncle alphard were full of encouragement; encouragement that made him accept his difference to his family. he questioned his family and their beliefs.

but when sirius matures more, he starts noticing that his feelings for his friend remus were changing. not friendship - something more. something strange. he knew that even the muggles didn't accept this sort of thing. he was broken, just like the picture. what would he do?

he and the marauders had snuck firewhiskey from a teachers office and in the heat of the moment, he kisses remus. he's in shock when moony kisses him back. when the firewhiskey wears off, he feels mortified that he would do such a thing. his family would hate him.

he's utterly terrified. one summer break, he lets it slip accidentally to alphard. he knows that this would be the end of his happiness with his uncle, and he would be sent away. his uncle merely smiled, and told him he couldn't be fixed.

because just like him, he wasn't broken.

and with this, sirius has fully bloomed into his true self. no longer does he sit and let slytherins talk ill of muglgeborns. he challenges his family. he challenges his mother. he becomes everything that alphard is proud of, and walburga detests.

when sirius is kicked out, alphard welcomes him with open offers and arms, though his nephew had flew the best and grown up; going to james instead. dear little regulus, on the other hand, is distant and colder, and alphard worries deeply for his dear nephew.

due to sirius' boisterous nature, his mother worsens her destructive attitude on regulus. he falls in with difficult crowds. no longer is he duelling as spartacus, but learning curses. the only drumming beat was his terrified heart when he was first recruited.

tom riddle is still a looming threat, and alphard knows it. he's still believed to be dead and he doesn't want to reach out. when sirius joins the order, he supports his nephew - they're the only hope. he would rather see tom destroyed than the evil man he had once loved.

despite all this, alphard still holds deep feelings for his former lover. deep feelings he could never let go of. as if he clung to the hope that tom could change.

until, during dinner, one night, he sees a dark mark on his little nephews arm that makes his blood run cold.

alphard and his pleading with regulus to get away from tom is the final push for the boy. he implores regulus to choose a better path, he is not a bad person, and he is not a death eater. this is what drives regulus and his sacrifice for the locket. uncle alphard was never wrong.

alphard blames himself for the loss of regulus. his little nephew; the baby boy he once held when walburga detested the sight of her 'sickly' little baby. he's a broken man. the beloved boy he had once loved like his own son was no more. because he couldn't protect him.

meanwhile, peter tells voldemort of his plans to betray the potters. that sirius would be perfectly set up, and even his uncle couldn't support his case. voldemort freezes when he hears the name; the name he hadn't heard since he went by "tom". alphard was alive.

for a moment, peter sees something flicker in toms eyes. even bellatrix notices the beat in the conversation. all those years he had grieved for alphard in the most wicked way. rage consumed him. he would destroy the potters, and the wretched black nephew alphard loved so dearly.

the broken alphard sits, in solitude; writing his will and leaving his fortune to young sirius, in the hopes that the fight would continue on. he knew he was destined to end this way. no happy ending. he pays one final visit to a former friend.

his former lover.

"all those years wasted, fighting opposite sides - and here we are, having precious few moments back. we could've ruled together, the two of us. i wanted you by my side.

goodbye, old friend."

if you've made it this far, thank you for reading my rambling headcanon on alphard black. three cheers for the best uncle in the world, and remember to stan tomphard.

(thread credit: narcissariddles on twitter)

#harry potter #alphard black #tom riddle #tomphard #serpentstar #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black #harry potter headcanon #headcanon #marauders #all the young dudes #atyd

[ginnywasafriendofmine]

So I wrote this last night while wondering if things could have turned out differently if James Potters parents had survived. It evolved in a way I didn't expect (Euphemia Potter, where have you been hiding?) It's not finished either, but here is what I have so far...

They lived

When Fleamont Potter first felt the stirrings of pain, deep in his chest-he ignored it. He was no healer, and it was to be expected in his age after all. He ignored it when he felt it flutter through his spine, passed it off as a working hazard when he felt a pang in his knees. (He shouldn’t have been fiddling with that old cauldron anyways).

But when his wife said to him, almost idly at the fireside-

“Will you remind me to owl Healer Robbins in the morning? I had a strange pain in my shoulder earlier, and it doesn’t seem to have gone away just yet.”

Fleamont looked at his wife, her hands quick and nimble as they laced glimmering threads through soft fabric. He looked at his wife, and saw his life’s love before him. He saw the dark eyes that had drawn him to her, the sharp wit of her tongue and the power and grace he knew not. He saw beyond her greying hair and the fine lines that told stories of their joy, and saw the life they had built. The garden they had cultivated, the business that had flourished beneath their feet, the son who had his mothers eyes as well as her spirit, her spark, her joy. 

Fleamont looked at his wife, his partner and knew that the world would be just that dimmer without her.

“Actually dear, I think we should owl them tonight.”

Their young son, his dark head of hair ducking under the mantle as he arrived, joined them at St. Mungos, his glowing wife at his side, her fingers weaving knots into her robes. James paled as he watched the Healers gather around the ones who had given him life, and he rushed to call his brother to his side, their dark heads bowed together as they sat in the crowded little waiting room. 

So Fleamont saved his wife, but he died that Thursday afternoon with his little family gathered at his bedside, his last act of love surviving without him. 

Lily Potter may have danced with her new father-in-law at her wedding, his beaming smile as bright as the candles flickering around them but it was to her husband's mother, alone, that she passed her newborn baby to.

Harry Fleamont Potter felt a fitting tribute, and James was sure he wasn’t imagining the tears sparkling in his mothers eyes.

Harry learned to walk through his grandmother's begonias, the ones that, in another life he may have walked towards his namesake. Or in another life, he would not know existed at all. 

When the war which had brewed around them throughout their adolescence came knocking at their door, James cloistered his young family into Godric's Hollow, leaving his mother alone at the Manor where he had frolicked and grown and on one fine summer's day wed his now targeted wife. 

James did not apologise to his mother as he kissed her goodbye. He didn't need to. 

Her second son, the one whose hair was as Black as his name, as black as the scorch mark his birth mother had left in his wake, loped through the wards every few days. Neither of them dared voice the hope, that courageous flighty thing that had found a home within their chests as they sipped their tea, watching sunsets that should have been savoured. 

But they did dare to hope, they dared to trust. And James Potter, who may have his mothers eyes and her spirit, also had his fathers unwavering loyalty. He trusted the wrong man.   

(and their protection fell, shocks of green light rang through the air, and a boy who had found love and joy in the presence of his first friend, found his worst nightmare come to life instead as he rushed through the air on a motorbike he would soon hand away). 

And the dog chased the rat, and the rat knew how to disappear when all the dog knew how to do was grieve. 

Fleamont’s last act of devotion didn’t change the fact that Euphemia woke up on November 1st with an intrinsic feeling of dread. When she opened the door she wasn’t faced with a scarred orphan as a shrieking Petunia Dursley was three counties over, but with the weary and regretful eyes of the men in red robes who had come to symbolise loss in their world. 

Euphemia managed to hold it together, her head held high until they used the words ‘Death Eater’ and ‘Sirius Black’ in the same sentence. Only then did she start to laugh, that horrible haunting laugh that only Blacks could. For Euphemia may have looked like her mother who had grown up across the world, but she was still a Black.

The two men, who had expected a feeble old woman and had gotten a glimpse of true Black madness did not think to question her when she demanded an escort to the Ministry. For her dear, kind son and his brave and bright wife would have to wait, their bodies still and cool as they would be for eternity, for it was her second son who needed her now. Her second son who sat in a stone cell and had cried himself to sleep.

For all that Remus-scarred, sweet, lonely and heartbroken-thought it was Sirius still, Euphemia knew her son. She knew he couldn’t be responsible for this. She also knew the look in a boy’s eyes when envy and greed had made its way deep into his heart, and she had seen it on Peter Pettigrew’s face one too many times to be as trusting as her dearly departed son.

With the power of her husband's name and his wealth she bullied an unsuspecting Barty Crouch into a trial the very next day, where a relieved Remus sat beside her, shaking while she was still. Later Sirius had wept apologies into her cloak, his regret tangible and as dark as his hatred for the man he had once called a brother. 

Sirius did not spend his 22nd birthday as he had planned, holed up with three Potters, being plied with cake and butterbeer, but he spent it screaming at the man he had once called a leader, at the man whose heart may have been heavy with regret, but whose hands still meddled in places he ought not to touch. 

The day after they gathered in Godric’s Hollow and watched a pair of twin coffins lowered into the fresh earth.

(While miles away, Harry cried for his mother and wondered why this woman who did not resemble anyone he knew had hands as sharp as her beady eyes).

Euphemia had saved her son from twelve years in Azkaban, but that did not mean she was going to leave the precious boy that had somehow survived, her husband's namesake, with a woman who had hated her own sister nearly as much as she had once loved her. 

Euphemia hadn’t expected Dumbledore to interfere. 

Dumbledore had expected Euphemia to acquiesce once he had explained with words like blood protection, and love sickly sweet on his tongue.

But she did not. 

Perhaps, in another world-one where Fleamont survived the night that his dear wife did, this would have played out differently. Quieter perhaps.

But Euphemia was different from Monty. She had grown up having to hold her head up, high, above the snickers and the stares and the comments. She had grown up between two worlds; not white enough, not dark enough. Having to make space for herself in a world that did not know what to do with her. 

When she first visited her family in India it wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of joy, she had expected, but rather a deep, dark loss in her soul. A wanting, a longing, a missing she would never truly understand. The colours were just as vivid, the smells just as enchanting, the sounds, the streets filled with life. But Mia had grown up across the world, where she’d had to learn to pronounce her r’s just so, how to preen, and dress and and hide so much of herself away that she’d never really found it again. Mia had grown up with a mother who was just as much a British citizen as everyone else around them, but different in a way they would never understand. 

(It was only when she met a man with eyes as deep as the ocean, and a smile that made her feel like she could soar did she feel she was coming out of the seams. Bit by painstaking bit). 

So yes, Monty, with his lineage and his old money and his class wouldn’t have dared, his fight would have taken place quietly, behind the scenes, where there was no fuss, no ruckus. 

But Monty wasn’t here anymore, and Mia had spent her life being quiet. 

So she raged, and stormed and threw herself into a battle with the most powerful man in Wizarding Britain. She argued her way through the courts, through countless politicians, secretaries and bureaucrats who she had spent her life kowtowing to when she was nothing but an immigrant's daughter with no power they could understand. 

And she won.

The snow had just begun to stick, and the lights were up in the neighbors windows when her grandson finally came home to her, with a trembling lip and a scarred forehead.

Euphemia Potter held him close - his hair smelt just like James had, when he was little, when her entire world could fit in her arms-and then passed him to her other son. The one who hadn’t been born from her, but who she loved just the same.  

They’d both had something taken from them, something ripped away with a cold curse and a flash of light, and she knew that only they could understand each other now. So Mia stayed in her opulent and empty house, and Sirius settled in the South Wing at the room that had always been his, his godson slumbering safely in his arms. 

That first Christmas was as dark as the words carved into stone back in Godric's Hollow. Two men who had to learn to trust each other again and a woman who many had expected to break by now. Only Harry’s laugh, his smile, his sparkling eyes could light up their bleak and unforgiving day. 

So Harry forgot the mean, cold woman who stared at him like something she would rather forget, and spent the spring with his grandmother as she planted flowers, her fingers quick and nimble as they had always been. He spent it with his godfathers-both of them-while one suffered each month as he always had, but whose love for Harry never wavered, and the other finally grew up.

For in this world Sirius Black did not wile away his years counting his regrets as he counted the bars on his cells. In this world he strategised, he built battle plans with the same fervour and determination he might have used to sliver between those bars as a shaggy, black dog. He focused on wiping out the forces that had taken so much of the light from their world. 

But he did not do this alone. For in losing one brother, he had gained another back. 

Regulus Black did not go to die in the cave that dark day in October of 1979. He would still be brave, and fierce, and full of righteous anger, but he did not die alone and afraid. Regulus Black had been in St. Mungos that summer, regretfully rejecting his prized and hard worked offer of a place as a Healer. 

Regulus Black had been there. He had seen his brother-the one who he missed as much as Petunia Evans missed her own sister-pale and weary with grief. He had seen him stumble in the corridor from Fleamont Potters room, the loss deeply etched in his face. 

Grief is the price we pay for love.  

Regulus had watched his brother, and wondered if perhap there were things worth living for-as much as they were worth dying for.

So despite what his mother, and the Dark Lord, and about every other Black relative wanted him to do-A Healer? How plebian. Regulus Black did what he had always yearned to, and was brave. He tore the rejection letter from the secretaries fist, and asked, with a weak attempt at his brothers bravado;

“What day do I start?”

So Regulus had taken a different path, a path that was still hard-for the road to hell was still paved with good intentions. 

Regulus stood with his head held high above the looks and snide comments-from both his Death Eater cohorts and his fellow trainees. But the Dark Lord could not touch him, could not stray him from this path, for the vow that was taken on his first day of orientation had sworn him to the Healing service, and even Tom Riddle knew some vows could not be broken.

Regulus Black had taken a different path (though the knowledge of the Horcrux and the unrelenting question of what/when/how still lingered) and was finishing up his rotation in the children’s ward when his long lost brother rushed in, a feverish child in his arms, and panic wreaking havoc in his young face.

“Please, I don’t know what’s wrong-I-I, he wouldn’t eat, and now he’s warm, too warm, and I-”

“Hand him to me.”

And Sirius had passed over the child he thought of as a son to a man he didn’t recognise and saw a boy he had once known. 

“I-Reggie-?”

But Regulus had always been good at his job. Even the other trainees, who glowered at him through the corridors as they once had in Hogwarts could not deny this. Regulus saw the brother whose approval he had always craved, but he did not think of it now. Regulus only looked at the child who lay shivering before him, and set to work.

Dragon Pox may have taken Fleamont Potter, but Regulus Black’s quick mind and steady hands ensured that his namesake did not follow in this regard. Sirius had cried tears of relief, and Remus had shaken Regulus’ hand so hard it felt bruised.

By now Harry had spent as much time without his parents as he had with them, and his loss would have taken his family to a place they could not return

Once Harry had settled, Mia Potter at his bedside and Remus Lupin fetching the blanket that Harry reached for every night, did the two brothers talk.

They spoke of nothing that had lingered deep in their minds, and their hearts in the years since the older one had departed.

“A Healer, huh?” Sirius Black tried to hide his surprise. 

Regulus bit back the 'You once told me I was good at Healing spells' and managed a smile. "Yes, coming on four years now.” 

Regulus felt young in his brother's presence (even if they were both the same height now).

“That’s… really great.” Sirius smiled, looking close to proud. 

“That's James son, isn't it?” Regulus asked, and watched the darkness flicker in his brothers eyes again.

“You can tell by the hair, huh?”

Really he could tell by the way Sirius looked at the boy-the same way he had always looked at James-but he smiled at his brother's attempt at humor anyways.

When the little family left two days later, a chagrined Sirius mumbled something out that was close to an invitation-coffee? Do you drink coffee? As he left St. Mungos, his beloved godson giggling in his arms. 

Regulus watched and wondered if perhaps he had gotten his brother back. If his brother would walk away from him again.

(He would, once he found out about the paradoxical life his brother led, a Healer who moonlights as a Death Eater. The life of one who fixes scars and curses he recognises, the life of one who is vowed to both worlds even as they threaten to pull him apart at the seams). 

But this time he would come back. And not on accident, stumbling in with a sick child, but with a determination for history not to repeat itself. 

For this Sirius Black knew about the transformative power of second chances.

Harry Potter grew up at his grandmother's elbow, learning about his culture, his heritage. What was left of it. Some had been lost to time, others to the journey made from Delhi to here. The rest to the pressure of a world who didn’t want girls with dark skin and a determined glint in her eye. 

But in this world Harry knew who he was. Where he had come from. What had been lost so he could live. And oh, did he live. 

He lived in the same trees and lakes his own father had made his kingdom at his age, he lived in the books his Moony shared with him-Moony, who watched as identical green eyes skimmed over the same pages he had seen a flame-haired girl devour. He lived in the adventures, the wild reckless stories and pursuits of his Padfoot. He lived in his grandmother's kitchen, watching her bake roti in between English cakes of lemon drizzle and his favourite treacle tart. 

Harry lived, and he knew what it was to be loved. 

(After all, a boy must live so he can learn to die. 

And even now, even here, Harry still had to be the boy who learned to walk to his death).

#harry potter #harrypotterau #fanfic #what if #ao3 writer #sirius black #euphemia potter #hp fanfic #writing

[vivithefolle]

Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers  (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #sexism #classism #hp meta #fandumb #hp fandom