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dewitty1 · 3 months

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Fic Recs Wrap Up January 2024♡(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭*･:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

The Wake-up Kiss by Justlikewriting

This time, when Harry found himself without a date for the Ministry Yule Ball, Parvati Patil was unable to step in. So, he was left with the only other viable option: to ask Draco Malfoy. Which would be fine, of course: it had been twelve years since the war after all. And they saw each other regularly now, meeting up with the same group of friends almost every Friday night. Harry, however, obviously hadn’t taken into account just how insufferable Zacharias Smith could be. Rec Post

The Binding and the Loosing by TheGoblinMatriarch @thegoblinmatriarch

Draco Malfoy is a reclusive academic who works on layered generational magic under the pseudonym Scholar Griseo. When he is contacted by a ‘James Black’ for help with a tricky situation with a magical House, he can’t help but notice the similarities between his potential client and Harry Potter. Since he can’t exactly refuse to help the Saviour of the magical world, Draco girds his loins and visits Grimmauld Place, where he ends up involved in what he must presume is one of those classic Harry Potter misadventures. Bonding, sentient Houses, domesticity ahoy! Rec Post

A True Entanglement by Booktopus @thebooktopus

One moment, Harry was minding his own business, going about his workday, and the next, he found himself being dragged across the Ministry by a red string that had somehow curled up in a pretty little bow around his wrist. A story of fate, smut, falling in love, and a string named Harold. Rec Post

Fire Meet Gasoline by lettersbyelise @lettersbyelise

When Draco’s anger management issues land him in St Mungo’s, he thinks his Quidditch career is over. But Harry, A&E Healer and notorious workaholic, is faced with a similar predicament. To save their jobs, the two of them decide to fake a relationship. All they have to do is convince their friends and employers… and not fall in love in the process. Simple, right? Rec Post

Everything is Relative to You by honeybeet @thehoneybeet

Potter was supposed to have lived. Draco is certain of this. That Potter would no longer walk the earth was tantamount to the sun moving west to east across the sky. If only he could have stopped this from happening, if he’d have known… It comes to him as ideas often did: too late. Or, Harry dreams of his past lives, and Draco is in every one. Rec Post

we’ll keep the king by BlueSundayCake @bluesundaycake

On a cold December morning, Remus Lupin shows up on Severus Snape’s doorstep with a child with very familiar eyes. Rec Post

Evitative by Vichan @k-vichan

In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn.

Then he gets the bad news: he’s been accidentally expelled from Hogwarts, and he needs to be sorted again. Everyone is confident that he’ll go straight back to Gryffindor, but with what he’s been learning, Harry’s not so sure. Rec Post

The White Pawn by Soupy_George @soupy-george

When eighteen-year-old Draco Malfoy finds himself back at Hogwarts on the eve of Voldemort’s infamous return, he is confronted with the most difficult decision he’s ever had to make: Relive the 6th year at school he’s tried so hard to forget, or do the unthinkable and ally himself with Potter’s lot… Rec Post

Howlr by partialtopotter @partialtopotter

Howlr is the new dating application enchanting Witches, Wizards and Everyone in between. Are you looking for the one or a one-night stand; it’s all here folks. Howlr is sponsored by Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the same team that brought us the Spellular just two years ago. Ginny Weasley, famed chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, swears by the app, ‘guaranteed to make sparks fly,’ she says. The magic awaits you! Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

Inevitable [Drarry] by violenttulips

After the war, Harry Potter becomes a talented Senior Auror with a penchant for injury in defense of his colleagues. Draco Malfoy leaves the country for five years and becomes an accomplished Specialty Healer. He comes back after he accepts a job at St. Mungo's Hospital. When they meet again, it's clear that Draco has changed significantly in the years since they attended Hogwarts together, and Harry finds himself strangely attracted to his former rival. But things never come easy for the Boy-Who-Lived, and that's not about to change now.

Learn To Fly by Ladderofyears @ladderofyears

January 2004: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are two of the finest Seekers in England, deadly rivals and secret lovers. As far as Draco is concerned, that's how it'll stay forever. He is betrothed to beautiful heiress Astoria Greengrass, and they are due to have a big summer wedding. Everything changes during a hotly fought Arrows versus Wimbourne game when Draco falls from his broom. To his huge shock, when Draco awakes in St Mungo's, he discovers he is pregnant. What will Draco do, now everything in his tidily compartmentalised life has to change?

He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by korlaena @korlaena

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine. Caught up in a whirlwind of sex and lust, Potter unwittingly shows Draco that his life as an Incubus doesn’t have to be as lonely and unfulfilling as he thought, but how long can it last?

Denouement by the_never_was

Pale face in paler hands, he is devoid of color. He is only the moonlight. And he wonders if he'll find the sun. A story about Draco entering a period of change that will either shatter him or enfold him into Harry Potter's world.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all! xoxo Carey (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

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dearophelia · 1 year

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best of sara's fic, according to her

Because I’m feeling some kind of way about my cancer lately and wanted to put together a Sara’s Greatest Fic Hits while I’m still around to do it (which is a morbid thing to type, but see the intro: been feeling some kind of way lately).

These range from my most popular fics, to the ones lost to weird posting hours, and everything in between. If I counted correctly, there are 14 fandoms on this list: from Mass Effect and Dragon Age, to Grey’s Anatomy and Stargate SG-1, to The West Wing and Calvin & Hobbes.

I’d appreciate reblogs on this (I am not ashamed to pull the stage iv cancer card here) so it can reach as many people as possible.

I have been writing fic for over 15 years; this is not a short list.

All are rated T or lower unless otherwise indicated. All stories are at or under the 3k mark unless otherwise indicated.

Stargate SG-1:

waves are universal (the heaven in hiding remix) (Sam/Jack; I’m very Normal about this fic; time travel and alternate realities, a host of OCs (and some familiar faces from Norafic if you look closely), oh and the Sam/Jack kid from the alternate reality! Only she’s an adult and working on a way to save the world! This has it all, folks: humor, romance, angst, action! I told you I’m Normal about it; 40k)

strange is the night where black stars rise (Sam; horror! A low creeping sense of doom! The King in Yellow! No, seriously, fuck that planet; 10k)

#sg1wedding (Sam/Jack; their wedding turned into An Event against their will; bets are going down about who would win in a fight: Bra’tac or the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs; also Jack loses his socks; twitterfic from 2012 and technology has definitely Marched On, just read it like an unhinged group chat fic)

phoenix (Sam/Daniel/Teal’c, Sam/Jack, Sam/Jack/Daniel/Teal’c; apocalypse (that I consulted a real live geologist on!); rebuilding in the wake of said apocalypse; team family feelings, kids, and some really shitty neighbors; 38k)

Dragon Age:

joy cometh in the morning (Ariadne; rated M; a host of OCs; mind the warnings; friendship; worldbuilding galore; friendships and mentors and first loves; did I mention friendship and worldbuilding?; 56k)

through the rude wind’s wild lament, and the bitter weather (Ari+Cullen; quiet magic, kind magic, good magic is still new to Cullen)

as the sun kissed the horizon (Ari/Josephine; a relationship in ten moments)

‘til we meet again (Ari+Cullen; platonic sleeping together!)

so hold my hand, consign me not to darkness (Ari; her faith is the core of who she is and, for the first time, Andraste isn’t there; post-Trespasser)

raise your fists up to the sky (Kylie/Krem; it’s Krem’s first day with the Chargers and there’s a naked elf in the middle of camp)

every demon wants his pound of flesh (Krem+Bull; Krem was in the Fade with the Inquisitor and the fear demon had some Things To Say To Him)

black dove (Anaya) & strange little girl (Anaya+Dagna) & dissolving clouds (Anaya+Cullen) (because neurodivergent Inquisitor, friendship, blossoming romance, and three very different takes on blood magic)

skeletons (Zahara+Bull; she is saarebas, he is Ben-Hassrath, and language is important)

children shouldn’t play with dead things (Juliette Amell; she’s always had an easier time with the dead than the living; cw for bugs)

a sorta fairytale (Josephine/Cassandra; flower shop & tattoo parlor AU; 8k)

Mass Effect Trilogy:

gonna set your flag on fire (Nora Vakarian, Liv/Garrus, James/Liara, Liv+Liara, Livfam; action! Humor! Angst! Worldbuilding! OCs!; I am Super Normal about this fic too; I promise everything’s okay in the end, promise, even though it isn’t written yet; Nora is an N3 and has an inactive control chip in her head. She and her team are ordered to investigate a Cerberus facility. It goes, shall we say, awry; 40k)

anthem (Liv/Garrus, Hannah/Zaeed, Liv+Liara; eight months is a long time without each other; angst with a happy ending (I promise); post-Destroy; 13k)

holy ground & dress (Liv/Garrus; ficlets from the night he gets sworn in as Councilor)

brightly shone the moon at night (Liv, Liv+Liara, Liv/Garrus, Livfam; five Christmases in Olivia Shepard’s life; 5k)

the pieces of gold, they light up your eyes & now we’re alone, now we’re alive (Liv/Garrus; the evolution of a relationship)

fighting is said to have reached palaven (Liv/Garrus; please, please let him be alive)

and some things you just can’t speak about (Quentus+Nico; the war)

‘cause i know that it’s delicate (Liv/Garrus; pre-wedding!)

nosce te ipsum (Nico; he likes boys and fanfiction and he didn’t think he’d get his little italicized oh moment)

i will write you love letters if you tell me to (Liv/Garrus; Hannah gives him one of Liv’s notebooks before he goes off to Omega; Garrus does the only thing he can think of with it)

i really need you (Liv/Garrus; James POV during the reunion scene in Priority: Palaven)

you look really tired (Liv/Garrus, Liv+Liara; post-Thessia, Olivia’s not doing well)

hey, so, ground rules (Liv+Zaeed; it’s a lot weird now that he’s dating her mom)

and all the scars you bear are from a previous war (Liv+Quentus; Mom!Liv)

you can hear it in the silence (Liv/Garrus; just a moment, post-war)

this all started because of a bad day (Liv/Garrus; from first meetings to matching rings)

combat, i’m ready for combat & turn on your favorite nightlight (Hannah; she’s a civilian and her daughter isn’t, and she’s bound and determined to know what Liv goes through when her boots hit the ground; Hannah, Zaeed, Liv, and Garrus hit up Armax)

four quarians who never made it back to the fleet (and one who did) (kinda what it says on the tin, honestly. Oh, Tali’s in this!)

everyone’s lost, the battle is won (Evangeline; somewhat predictably, my experiment in getting as many of my team killed as possible resulted in Feelings About It)

across the sky (Susan/Liara; how to make the Control ending feel good)

and yours is in red underlined (Vanessa; The Illusive Man has pissed her off for the last time)

i’m headed straight for the castle (Vanessa; renegade control ending; kneel before your queen)

Mass Effect Andromeda:

for saviours (Tori; ten scenes from a pre-Andromeda life; 10k)

ringing joyful and triumphant (Tori/Liam/Jaal; just some morning fluff)

the thing with the baby angara (Tori/Liam/Jaal; thinking about the future)

the undone and the divine (Tori/Liam/Jaal; the lone single solitary explicit fic on here, give it props for that alone; Liam gets absolutely railed by his partners. That’s it. That’s the fic.)

you’re like the thing that makes the universe explode (Sara Ryder/Suvi, Drack; kid, the only people who don’t know that you like Suvi are people who haven’t met you and Suvi)

this one’s for the torn down, the experts at the fall (Tori+Garrus; one night in the intersection of Victoria Ryder and Archangel; maybe they’re better friends than they both thought)

The West Wing:

a great revelation sigh (CJ; she’s Chief of Staff; ten steps to the apocalypse; the apocalypse source probably didn’t age well, heads up)

it’s in my blood and i won’t give up ‘cause it’s running through my veins (Amy+Andi; it’s Election Day in the future and Amy has nothing to do)

Grey’s Anatomy:

dropsonde (the singers in a lower choir remix) (Addison/Alex, Derek/Meredith, Addison+Derek, Addison+Mark, Mark+Derek; the one that kicked off all the remixes; absolutely off the rails from canon somewhere in S3; budding romances and kidfic and my theory about people being storms and lighthouses; 40k)

scarlet city (Mark/Addison, Burke/Cristina; film noir gangster and detective AU; Addison’s the gangster, Burke’s the detective; literally everyone I could fit into this fic shows up; also Denny is comic relief; 18k)

Misc:

access records (Star Trek Voyager; Naomi Wildman’s holodeck access for the past week; worldbuilding!)

in this twilight our choices seal our fate (the song in the house of night remix) (SVU; Olivia/Elliot; rated M; on the rise and fall of partnership; probably a little too much religious imagery but what the hell else am I gonna do with a minor in religious studies?; 4k)

the end of days job (Leverage; Parker+Eliot+Hardison; the apocalypse job, basically; this one ages well!)

let the only sound be the overflow (D&D; Calia/Kelpie/Edal, aka ot3: fathoms below; the ocean is big and they are not)

we are golden stars above silver seas (we hear echoes from another galaxy) (Calvin & Hobbes; Calvin+Susie; throughout all those years, she never gave up on him; this one went viral on tumblr [LINK] and I cleaned it up for the AO3 version)

lift her, pull her, from the orchids (Grace and Frankie; Grace/Frankie; the one where I invoke the spelling bee)

rocket queens (Babylon 5/Pacific Rim; Susan Ivanova/Talia Winters; look, they’re jaeger pilots, I really don’t know what else to tell you)

the great gig in the sky (Battlestar Galactica; Six; rebirth is painful, she forgets this sometimes)

#screams hits post #s:words

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ginoeh · 4 months

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For @xenomorphic-warrior for the Dreamling Winter Exchange 2023! I hope I managed to hit enough of your likes, favs and ideas to make this enjoyable for you <3 this was supposed to be 3k. i failed miserably lol

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

An Inn and the World's End

~ A Winter Tale ~

Summary: An Inn stands bright and warm in a world of snow and ice and twilight. The Innkeeper is no hero but when Death comes calling, he takes what any hero does - a guide, a companion and a magical weapon - and takes up the task to find the Nightking at the edge of the world.

Rating: T

CW: none

Length: 8.9k

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

A curious stillness lies over the Inn. The sounds of howling storms and wolves have fallen quiet. The crackling of snow and ice, part of nature's symphony, are absent.

Hob stands at the counter, swiping off the last few glasses and mugs.

Sometimes feels as if there's never anything else he's doing. He sighs as he puts them into their cupboards and shelves and slings the damp dishrag over his shoulder. The Inn is empty of patrons this far into the night, except for one snoring gentleman by the fire. The glow of the fireplace throws the shadows into sharp flickering relief. The lamplight above the bar cradles the Inn like a warm blanket.

Outside, Hob knows, there's nothing but twilit darkness and the cold. It's always been like that, as far as Hob remembers. So it catches him by surprise sometimes, this yearning for warmth and light, when he has never experienced much of either.

This is a world of snow and storms and wolves, after all.

So why is it still?

Hob's Inn, beyond the muted sounds of the world outside that lose some of their horror as soon as the thick door closes behind any traveler, is made of crackling fire, creaking wood and clinking earthenware. Above that lies the susurration of voices and stories and songs, all bathed in the golden lights of the many lamps Hob never fails to light.

The folk that comes by and tracks puddles of melting snow and despair across his wooden floors, tell him stories of the world outside. They tell him of empty landscapes and abandoned dwellings, of the hunger and the wolves that roam free. Some like Gilbert, an old and long since vanished patron, tell other stories; those tales speak of the Nightking that once was Lord and protector of these lands and who vanished in times before memory. Others whisper tall tales of beasts and monsters that were set free by a cruel and dispassionate King; horrors that rose in the wake of uncaring abandonment.

Hob dislikes these latter stories despite the frequency with which they come up. He knows - knows it in the marrow of his bones as surely as he knows he must keep the lights on in the Inn - that they are untrue, that the lands aren't frozen and uninhabitable due to cruelty.

Still, he serves all folk; he's just the Innkeeper after all, always here, always waiting.

He's not exactly sure what he's waiting for, though. Mabe just the next stranger that comes through the door.

Find the rest on AO3 !

#dream of the endless #hob gadling #death of the endless #jessamy #johanna constantine #the sandman #dreamling #fairytale au #hob gadling goes on a magical quest #Dreamling Winter Exchange 2023/24 #ginoeh writes

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dragynkeep · 9 months

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i don't really understand the argument that aang should've killed ozai. n1. from a realistic pov, its a kids show, it's not gonna be game of thrones. but from a writing perspective he is the last air nomad, not just the last airbender. being a nomad is different to being an airbender as its the cultural aspect of it- aang carries the weight of being the last of both. he doesn't want to kill ozai because the monks believe all life is sacred, and by killing ozai, there will be no nomads left, as he felt he would've abandoned his culture.

i don't know what would've happened if he hadn't discovered a way to remove ozais bending, but i do know that it literally doesn't matter if he killed him or not. ozai loses either way, he suffers either way. the people of the other nations, including the ones from the air temples who were murdered, still get their justice because he is still being held to what he did and punished. arguably, being stripped of his bending and locked in a cell to rot is more of a punishment than death. and also, then zuko becomes fire lord. meaning if he wants, he could have ozai executed and nobody could do anything about it. the end circumstances were the same either way. aang not killing ozai was not bad, the people still got their justice, arguably more because ozai was sentenced to suffer like he inflicted on them.

the entire issue with this is twofold in that aang is not only responsible for himself & without the magical lion turtles, the earth kingdom would've been destroyed.

"we don't know what would've happened if he hadn't discovered a way to remove ozai's bending" but we do, ozai was in the process of it. ozai would've razed the earth kingdom to the ground in pursuit of his new world & continued further on with mass genocides & oppressions of non fire nation folk as he blatantly said on screen. he was doing this while aang was still quibbling with his nonviolence ethos.

& the nonviolence isn't even reflective of the air nomads in the show: we literally see in the first book that monk gyatso murked at least 20 - 30 fire nation soldiers in order to preserve his own life & the life of other air nomads fleeing.

& monk gyatso isn't the only airbender nomad to choose violence as a defensive measure, avatar yangchen also does. she straight up tells aang that while he has these cultural ethos, he isn't just responsible for himself anymore. he is responsible for the entire world & with that comes having to make hard choices even if he doesn't personally agree with them because that's his job.

here we see aang being confronted with the fact that his idealized caricature of his own culture is not the truthful representation through both monk gyatso & yangchen setting it straight: the air nomads were not devoted, peaceful spirits willing to follow a non violence ethos straight to their death, they would protect themselves. aang is responsible for protecting the world, even when he's confronted with that he accepts it.

it's only through sheer bullshittery that we get the lion turtles who show him the ability to remove bending — which then came with it's own host of ethical issues further in the series so it's not like this is a null harm issue — & even then it took a specific plot rock to the back to get him to put this into action. aang was losing, he was going to die & it's delusional to think that him following his non violence ethos to his death at the expense of a kingdom dependent on him is the "correct" choice.

especially because we've also seen aang kill before in self defense. while in the avatar spirit yes but what was to stop him from doing the same to ozai while in that same avatar spirit state. this whole devotion to a bastardization of a marginalized culture irl written by white men who have never had to face a racialized violence as the basis of aang's decision "not to kill" is borderline insulting.

also in respect to "this isn't game of thrones": people have died on screen. even as early as book 1 we were featuring on screen deaths & if a child affected by the brutality of war like jet can die violently on screen, then so can the imperialistic, genocidal dictator hellbent on again, burning an entire kingdom & not stopping there.

this whole argument hinges on the plot saving aang's ass by not letting him make that hard decision, instead offering up a last moment's holy grace which was never foreshadowed & ended up only hurting aang as a character. especially when not killing ozai only left the world in further instability as cults & secret factions devoted to wanting him to return as fire lord sprung up in the wake of zuko's coronation & put the fire nation in further turmoil when it was incredibly sensitive post war. so aang didn't even help in that regard & only caused further harm instead of helping.

#atla #atla critical #atla salt #aang #aang critical #aang salt #ais.txt #answered

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findmeinasunshower · 2 years

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𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚: 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

word count: 1.2k

summary: “If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” one-shot, fluff.

warnings: alcohol use

“Sometimes I wonder why I took this job.”

Harry frowns at the ceiling before allowing his head to loll drunkenly to the side to look at you. You’re the only one still in his small Hogsmeade cottage after the end of term staff party he took upon himself to throw. The plan was to finish off the last bottle of firewhiskey together and then you’d go...but, you’re still here on the sofa next to him, and another bottle was opened a long time ago.

“What? Why?”

You shrug thoughtfully. “I just can’t believe I took that big of a risk. A woman shows up on my doorstep and offers me a job to teach witches and wizards about non-magic folk.” You chuckle to yourself. “It sounded so nonsensical. I think the only reason I did believe it was because it was Professor McGonagall who told me.”

“That and my whole summer spent taking you ‘round the Wizarding World and convincing you,” Harry adds, and you nod in agreement. “You are right though, it’s hard to argue with Minnie’s face.”

“Oh god, don’t call her Minnie. It feels so wrong.”

“I honestly can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. She was my Head of House in school I didn’t think I’d ever call her anything but ‘Professor.’”

You laugh and shake your glass of firewhiskey playfully. “Alcohol, my friend.”

Harry laughs with you and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence once again. You scan the room for the thousandth time tonight, taking in his charmingly cluttered living space. Despite it being late May, a fire crackles in the fireplace. Stacks of books take up almost every surface, as there’s no room for bookshelves, and moving photos cover every wall. You’ve found yourself studying each and every one of them at some point throughout the night.

All of a sudden you find yourself speaking again: “Speaking of you showing me the wizarding world...remember when you took me to Honeydukes and the first Chocolate Frog card I got was you?”

Harry groans dramatically and sinks deeper into the plush couch next to you. “Oh, don’t remind me. One of the most embarrassing moments of my life, and that’s saying a lot.”

“I’m glad you were so embarrassed, because I was beyond mortified.” At that response, Harry looks at you curiously. He had expected you to poke fun at him like you usually do when you bring up that day.

“Why were you mortified?”

The laugh you offer him is a bit forced. “Because not only had I been introduced to a whole new world, but the man who was supposed to be my coworker was a bloody teenaged war hero.” Harry’s shocked to see tears welling up in your eyes. “How am I supposed to hold a candle to that when my students can fucking conjure candles?”

“I just...” You sigh in frustration. “Sometimes I feel out of place at Hogwarts. I love my students, and I think they like me—”

“—Trust me, they do—”

“but—” You struggle for the right words before huffing in frustration and falling against the back of the couch. “Ugh, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, trying to hide your traitorous tears from him.

“You know, I was raised a muggle.”

You look at him in surprise. “No you weren’t.”

“I was.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Really?”

He chuckles and nods. “Yup. That’s why McGonagall gave me the task of showing you the Wizarding World before you took the job. Well, that and the fact that it was my idea to hire a muggle to teach Muggle studies. But that’s beside the point: There was a time it was all new to me too.”

“And I wasn’t just raised by muggles, I didn’t even know I was magic until I got my letter to Hogwarts, and even then I didn’t know what it meant until Hagrid showed up and explained everything to me, just like I did to you.” You find yourself tucking a leg underneath you and sitting up straight so you can better face Harry on the couch, watching the flames dance in his eyes.

“So, I know what you mean when you say you feel out of place. I still feel that way. Hell, I was an auror for four years before I came back to Hogwarts to teach. No one expected the great Harry Potter to become a bloody teacher, but it’s what makes me happy.” He pokes your leg playfully. “And I know teaching at Hogwarts makes you happy too. It has that effect on people.”

You giggle softly. “You’re right. It really does.”

He looks at you thoughtfully. “But you still sometimes feel like you don’t belong because you can’t do magic?”

Your smile slides off your face. “Yeah.”

Harry sighs and leans forward to set his drink on the coffee table in front of you. “(y/n), if only you could see yourself the way I see you, because bloody hell you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.”

Your heart stops. Whatever you were expecting to come out of your friend’s mouth next, it certainly was not that. “What?”

“You heard me.” Harry gently takes your drink from your trembling fingers and places it next to his. “I’ve liked you since my students came in from your first class talking about how interesting fucking electricity was. And they pronounced it correctly. And if there’s one thing my life has taught me, it’s that there’s no time like the present.”

You’re speechless. Completely, utterly, embarrassingly speechless. Of course, you’ve liked Harry since almost the first day you met him. He’s handsome, and charming as all hell, and his arrival in your life completely turned it on its head. And he’s only continued to change it for the better by being your greatest friend over this past year.

So it’s not just the firewhiskey when you close the distance between the two of you and kiss him like Voldemort’s back (see that wizard term? You got it.)

The small grunt that comes out of him when you kiss him makes your heart flutter, and you sigh contentedly when you tangle your fingers in his hair. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, allowing him to kiss you even deeper.

After a few more kisses, Harry pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. You stay there for a moment simply breathing together before he pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You know,” he breathes, “Half of me thought you didn’t feel the same.”

You laugh disbelievingly and peck his lips once more. “Well, it’s your lucky day, Potter. Because I’ve fallen for you too.”

#findmeinasunshower #sunshowerimagines #harry became a teacher #fight me #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #x you #teacher!harry #harry james potter #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter x reader

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in-a-mountain-pool · 6 months

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The Dragon Boy (Teaser)

Aemond x Female!Dragonseed OC Vysella

Here is a little teaser of my submission for the HOTD big bang 'The Dragon Boy', with some beautiful artwork to be soon revealed by the amazing @cyeco13 !

It had felt like the end of days, a tragedy painted with vicious strokes of fire and blood. The very ground beneath your feet had shaken, the winds had howled as dragons danced above the skies of the Riverlands in violent flashes of greens and reds, and clashes of razor sharp teeth. Brothers and sisters rode into war for a cause that no longer made sense, as kin marched upon kin, and dragons raged against dragons. History was dying, old magic was fading, all because one man, one King, had made a choice born from love. But how could love ever endure in a world such as this? How could you fight for a Queen who ordered the death of an innocent child? Or a King that paraded the head of such a gracious beast as Meleys through the streets of Flea Bottom? How could hope live on here at the end of all things, where flames paint the skies, and babes were torn from their mother's arms? … Helaena’s arms. Since you’d heard the news from the other Dragonseeds’ on the battlefield you wouldn’t dare speak his name out loud. Bile would rise in your throat at the mere mention of him, the One-Eyed Prince, the Kinslayer, all of these names they’d given him, to the boy with violet eyes who’d captured your heart all those years ago. He had met with his Uncle, your Mentor, above the God’s Eye only a week before. The village folk spoke of a fierce battle, with dragon fire so hot and so ferocious it was like the sky itself had been set aflame, and the Doom of Valyria had raged once more. The two beautiful beasts were said to have torn each other apart, Caraxes the Blood Wyrm sinking her teeth into Vhagar’s neck, before being disembowelled and crashing into the great lake below. He, had always been so careful, even as a child, it was no wonder he’d chained himself so securely to the saddle. Daemon had known this and used it to his advantage. It had been you who had told Daemon so, you who had taught him how to tie the chains to keep him safe. Neither man nor dragon could have survived such a fall. Even a Targaryen Prince.

Full fic to be revealed via @hotd-bigbang November 2023!

#hotd big bang #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #Fics by me #House of the Dragon #HOTD #hotd fanfiction

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wishcamper · 11 days

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The Fifty Years

Here is a short lil bonus chapter prequel to my main fic, A Court of Vice and Victors. No spoilers. And no happy endings. Enjoy!(?)

CW: suicidal ideation, alcohol abuse, sexual assault

The first several years were full of activity, devising and implementing long-term plans to sustain the city through what looked to be a long siege. It was quickly discovered that while they could not leave without disrupting the wards, the citizens of Velaris were perfectly free to come and go as they pleased. Azriel’s network was robust enough they learned the particulars of Rhys’ capture not long after he shouted that frantic message in their minds, when the pulse of magic gushed over them like hot blood. They even managed to get someone inside the mountain, to give him the strength of their love and promises of rescue.

He sent a single word back.

Don’t.

Don’t come. Don’t burn the world down, like he knew they wanted to. Don’t let this sacrifice be in vain.

After that, messengers returned bearing nothing. Eventually they stopped returning altogether.

Still, there were things to do in the beginning, enough to keep the blind panic at bay, resources to inventory and ration, information streams to create. Amren wrote for days on end contacting the other courts and hunting down every lead she could. Azriel recruited and trained to expand his spy network and Cassian assigned proxies in Illyria to make sure the camps didn’t collapse into all-out war in his absence.

Mor did something helpful, she guessed, though mostly she just wandered around the empty townhouse twisting her hands and wondering what the fuck they were going to do.

Her despair set in long before everyone else’s, who seemed to think it was a temporary obstacle, victory well within reach. But Mor saw the blood-red writing on the wall - her gift, to know the depth of a thing for what it truly was.

This was going to be bad. For a long time. Maybe forever.

So it was with hollow words that Mor whispered comfort to the other two, with liar’s hands she brushed the hair from their faces where they fell asleep resting against one another on the sofa in front of the fire.

Hardship has a habit of bringing out the best and worst in folks, and Mor ricocheted from one to the other so fast her head spun. She found herself drawing from that well of golden light within her, showering a scared mother or fretful shop owner with fortitude while her hands were cold and slick with sweat. Flirting shamelessly with a male before slipping into Velaris’ most discreet pleasure hall to fall apart under the female who no longer charged her for the visit.

And the wine was just too easy, from the beginning. Cassian was coping by treating every small success with as much enthusiasm as he could, so he was always game to end up somewhere weird, the right amount of drunk and laughing a little too loud. And it was nice, having him there, his massive frame making the males give her a wide berth. She was safe with him, she always had been, so it wasn’t difficult to overindulge and need help walking home and tumble into bed like a child. To let him yank off her shoes and toss a blanket over her before heading to his room down the hall.

And though he never said it outright, she knew he liked having someone to care for, to fuss over. His natural bent toward monogamy was completely at odds with the realities of his life, especially now, so he split his need, got the emotional intimacy from Mor and the physical intimacy decidedly elsewhere.

Mor loved Cassian in a way that was incorruptible, never marred by something so idiotic as attraction, but sometimes she felt the gap it left between them, like she could never quite get close enough. The nights his eyes flashed at a female across the bar, she felt the curl of dread rise in her stomach, knowing she’d be bumped down the list, always.

He kept a chamber of his heart closed to her that he’d one day open for someone else, someone who made him walk like that, like he was the best he’d ever be. Those nights she drank alone until the sun kissed the horizon, until she was too dizzy to stand as the world was shrouded in the watercolors of the dawn.

But they clung to each other, with the unspoken rule between the three that only one of them could fall apart at a time. And so it went, year after year.

There’s a time, in a long wait, when the hope dies. When the heart becomes too heavy and sinks into the well of darkness that lurks in all living things.

Azriel hit the wall first, about a decade in.

He shuffled into her room one night, wings backlit from the hall, and muttered He’s not coming back before continuing toward his bedroom like he said nothing at all. After that, he retreated further into himself, his shadows thick and sluggish where they draped over his body like tendrils of limp seaweed. Cassian and Mor fretted over it for months, heads bent low over a flickering candle in the library, searching for anything that could set their brothers free. Az became almost entirely nocturnal in response to their pushing.

And then the rumors began.

Traitor. Murderer. Amarantha’s whore. Nasty whisperings reached Velaris of Rhys and his new role as consort and enforcer Under the Mountain. Mor was sick the first time she heard them, doubled over on the docks of the Sidra while Cassian held back her hair. She clutched his offered handkerchief to her mouth, the wild beating of her heart telling her to run, run, run , with no idea where to go.

But the eternal bent of all beings is adaptation, and as the years wore on Velaris settled into a new normal. Mor began to forget the world outside the city, as if the beaches of Summer or yawning halls of Day were just a story she’d heard once. In moments she’d think vaguely that her horses at Athelwood must’ve foaled several times by now, that her father was likely pushing his fundamentalist filth on a new generation of females. But none of it felt real, just a passing thought floating by on the inconstant wind. She could only block out the memories of Rhys, until he too became a symbol, frozen in time.

The forty-nine year curse felt just as false, and she didn’t have the strength to do much more than wait for her final judgment. Guilt consumed her every time the wish for Rhys’ death crossed her mind, if only because it might set them free, and she'd drink until the sharp edges smoothed like glass tumbled in the sea.

Cassian’s fury at their resignation was not surprising but unwelcome all the same. His encouragement quickly morphed to a sense of betrayal, and he raged at her and Azriel, calling them traitors, cowards. When that didn’t work, he begged them not to give up and, while he said it was for Rhys, Mor couldn’t help but feel his knees hit the moldering carpet for his own life, too. Finding them unmoved, he disappeared into the outer edge of the Palace of Bone and Salt, dominating the underground boxing rings and fucking anything that breathed.

For twelve years, they didn’t speak to each other outside of monthly council meetings. Mor started drinking in the morning, as much to brace herself to see them as for the repulsive normalcy of their courtly tasks. All discussion of rescue plans died a quiet death long ago. Amren alone seemed somewhat content helming the city in Rhys’ stead, and at times Mor was even grateful for the female’s callousness if only because she could see the future no one else would.

As the deadline loomed her despair picked up in fervor, a buzzing under her skin that begged for release. So the night she ran into Azriel skulking in front of a pleasure hall she couldn’t help wrapping him in her arms and squeezing with all her might, as if she could hold him tightly enough to snap all their pieces back in place. Their fate would be decided in three months, and it felt wrong to be apart.

They began this time together; it was only right it should end that way, too.

Without a word, Az winnowed them to the fighting rings and pulled a dull-eyed Cassian out by the collar. After a bout of faltering conversation, they ended up on the roof of the townhouse, passing a bottle of wine between them and trading gallows humor at the wreckage of it all. Mor savored the tastes on her tongue, both the wine and the laughter, small comforts at the end of the world.

They did the same the next week. And then a few days later, and again, until every night culminated in the trio sprawled on the carpet of the townhouse in various states of impairment, sharing the stories they hadn’t let themselves remember in years because now they had nothing to lose. The idea of her own death was a comfort, wishing for it at times in her sleep, at the bottom of a glass. But she was too far gone to be afraid, to feel anything at all, and she’d always been a coward at heart.

So when Mor stumbled in from the street to find Cassian prone in front of the fire reeking of skullcap and sex, it only made sense to lie next to him and place her head on his broad chest. Feeling the erratic thump of his broken heart against her cheek, she closed her eyes and pictured jumping outside the wards, how she might dissolve into ash and float away on the breeze.

“You’re home early.” His voice was thick with intoxication, the arm he slung around her back limp and heavy.

She shifted to look at the side of his face, silhouetted by the flames. His nose had a new crook in it, and she ran a finger over the bump. “Cass?”

“Mm.”

“Do you love me?”

She knew the answer, but it still set an ache in her chest when he said, “Of course I do.”

“Would you, if it doesn’t end.. If I don’t have the courage..”

Would you please kill me?

“Mor,” His lips brushed the top of her head, and for a moment she felt as his lovers must in the wake of their pleasure, exhausted and held. “I can’t, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can ever give up. I don’t have it in me.”

She knew he was right. It was why she could never follow through on her fantasies, and as Azriel shuffled into the parlor and threw himself on a sofa she knew she’d never give up either. Because the ghost of her hope had lingered after it died, waiting to be reborn.

The hope for hope itself is unkillable, enduring, even as it tortures the heart eternally.

Mor reached a hand above her head and Azriel took it, and she savored the feeling of the scars she so rarely got to touch. “I miss Rhys,” he murmured and the tears overtook her then, the love and despair and alcohol mixing in her blood, the smell of salt thick in the air.

Those final months they spent huddled before the fire felt longer than the fifty years before. And then Rhys appeared on the balcony, sobbing and repeating she’s my mate, she’s my mate.

For a world-stalling moment, Mor thought he meant Amarantha.

But he brought them his savior, and she stayed the course through his agony, through Feyre’s depression, held to the rule that only one of them could fall apart at a time because one day it would be her turn again. Through war, through upheaval in the family she held fast, waiting for another ending that would never come.

It wasn’t until much later, when she stared dumbfounded as her cousin sold her out to her father, to the male who’d left her to rot, that she realized a truth even her gift couldn’t see.

The hope only dies if someone kills it.

#acotar #fanfic #morrigan #rhysand #cassian #azriel #under the mountain #amarantha

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wellthebardsdead · 6 months

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Karlach: so yeah, I’ve got a heart again, and a new body, face… I know it’s a lot to take in but. Here’s all the work you’ve done on me. *floats a heap of infernal metal and more onto the blacksmiths table* Figured you could make something with it. Get yourself more on your feet now that the whole end of the world business is over.

Dammon: *staring up at the once tiefling now mind flayer* it’s certainly a change alright, but. Not a bad one, you’re still you, yeah?

Karlach: oh yes! I’m more me than ever! Still learning how to change my appearance with this illusion magic though. Some folks are still more than a little afraid seeing my big old squid face floating about.

Dammon: *smiles flicking his tail as he walks to the scrap* well, in that case I’d better get started making you some armour then. Keep you shielded and safe until you figure it out. *picks it up* but uh, how’s, that Wyll fellow you were seeing taking this?

Karlach: Wyll? Nah. Didn’t work out. It ended on good terms, we just found we were… too different from each other. That and I kept setting the bedsheets on fire. But- you want to? Make me armour?

Dammon: *nods and smiles* well you said it yourself, not many are open to mind flayers. But everyone here is open to you. *gestures to those who decided to stay around the small settlement after the shadow curse was lifted* and… I’d still like an excuse to see you around…

Karlach: are you- oh… even… with how I look now?

Dammon: *nods curling his tail around his leg* you’re still you. Heart or Engine. Fire or tentacles. You’re still the Karlach I got to know…

Karlach: I… *takes his hand* once I figure out how to kiss you in a less than horrifying way I will alright? Will you be okay waiting? I don’t want to scare you off-

Dammon: *gently lifts up her tentacles and smooshes his mouth against hers*

#the man’s seen the hells a mind flayers mouth is nothing to him #lot of teeth though #Dammon baldurs gate 3 #Dammon bg3 #karlach baldurs gate 3 #Dammon x Karlach

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reno-matago · 1 year

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Is there anything in French folk magic or French traditional magic about a new home/home protection?

I don't have a specific ritual but ingredients and methods yes!

RURAL FRENCH MAGIC ELEMENTS

You can make crosses to have at the doors! The plants vary according to the regions: houseleek, cross-benites with lavender, immortelles, according to the folk religious holidays however, traditionally it is on dates of specific religious holidays.

We do a fumigation in the home, certainly with prayers, with plants depending on the region: laurel, juniper... we can burn protective plants, make bouquets of them, especially elderberry. All pungent or strong-smelling plants will be protective (elderflower, garlic, hellebore, holly, hawthorn) For protective bouquets: artemisia, foxglove, meadow iris, mint, St. John's wort, walnut branches, fern, verbena, the Queen of french witchcraft.

We can do a ritual where we will pass the plant through the fire to strengthen its power. The cross is the ideal symbol. The perfect day will be Saint John's Day.

Be sure I'll return to you if I find anything else out! Finally if you need a spell to banish negativity from the house I can give you one by messenger too!

HORSHOE

I think a horseshoe would be ideal ( just like garlic). It is not ''french trad craft'', just a method I would use, but I would purify it, dedicate it to the 4 elements, fumigate it, then recite by hanging it or nailing it:

''Vigilavi, et factus sum sicut passer solitarius in tecto'' (Terese d'Avila, Psalm 102)

But it is my own creation! Otherwise there are these spells from The Witch's Almanac by Katherine Quenot, unfortunately her sources are rarely cited. Some are ancient, others modern...

Here is one of these spells that seems interesting to me because it contains verbena:

TO ATTRACT PROTECTION INTO YOUR HOME Make a purple sachet 18 centimeters on a side and put rosemary, verbena, and a lock of hair from each of the inhabitants, and a picture of the house. Close it with a purple cord, put everything in a secret place in the house and never open it.

TO KEEP YOUR HOME HEALTHY

Make a braid with two green laurel branches, then hang it on a red cord above the interior door of the house or gate.

This talisman will also preserve your family from jealousy, backbiting and the evil eye.

And this one which seems to be modern but inspired by traditional principles:

TO PRESERVE YOUR HOME FROM HARM

You will need coarse salt, cracked pepper, an egg and sticky paper.

Take the egg that you will pierce at both ends to empty it of its contents. Mix the coarse salt with the same quantity of crushed pepper.

Fill the egg with this composition after stopping one end with the paper.

Place everything in a closet or wardrobe in your main room. The egg should be changed every three months. When you get rid of it you have to throw it outside the house in a trash can saying:

''Hexes, evil spirits, in this egg I locked you, now you are thrown.

Never come back to my house,

To the world of junk return''

Sources: Christophe Auray - l'herbier des paysans, des guérisseurs et des sorciers • L'almanach de la sorcière de Katherine Quenot

#french traditional witchcraft #witchcraft #folklore #protection #magic #french witchcraft #french folklore #french magic #folk magic #french folk magic #asks

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dduane · 10 months

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At Ebooks Direct: Last week on sale for our Pride Month Package!

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Welcome to one universe where who you love and how your genders intersect is between you, your lover(s), and the Goddess. And another where wizards come in so many species and sexualities that getting sniffy about something as wildly variable as local sex and gender makes no sense when is you’re just one more of a million kinds of humanity. (And where after the business is done, the next serious question may well be “Never mind the tentacles… would you like to go out for coffee?*”)

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Tales of the Five #1: The Levin-Gad

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Sirronde’s World #3: Parting Gifts (SW #2 not yet written)

Tales of the Middle Kingdoms #1: Lior and the Sea

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Owl Be Home For Christmas

All the works above are available for individual purchase at Ebooks Direct at the (currently normal) 50%-off discount. This package, though, takes an additional 15% off that price. The Pride Month Package will be available at its reduced price, $18.99, until Pride Month’s end (30 June 2023, 23:59 UTC).

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*Or other species-preferred icebreaking beverage.

**Gaylaxic Spectrum Awards Hall of Fame winner

#Pride #Pride Month #ebooks #sale #Diane Duane

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asongofstarkandtargaryen · 10 months

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JON SNOW DAY 2: VEILS OF DESTINY 🔮✨ AZOR AHAI

Azor Ahai was a legendary hero who lived during the Long Night. He was the one who led humanity into victory against the Others. According the prophecy, the Others will be reborn (this has already happened) and so will be the Azor Ahai. He will lead once again the humanity to the fight against those supernatural beings.

In the books various candidates have be named as the possible Azor Ahai reborn but none of them is as closely linked to the fight against the Others as Jon is. Jon is the main pov on the Wall, which was built in order to protect humanity from the others. He’s aware from the very first book that the Others are more than scary tales told to children; as he faced a wright in order to save Commander Mormont. Meanwhile, most of the rest pov characters aren’t even aware of or ignore the threat of the Others even by the end of the fifth book.

Who is more capable to lead a fight against them than the main character who is concerned about the threat of them the most? And who has already made steps to help humanity survive the said threat by letting free folk be settled south of the Wall.

I think that most agree that Jon is heavily associated with the storyline of the Others. Does he has the requirements needed to fill the Azor Ahai prophecy, though?

Here is how Melisandre describes that Azor Ahai will be reborn according to the ancient Asshai prophecies:

"In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him."

ACOK, DAVOS I

At the end of AGOT/beginning of ACOK, a comet looking like bleeding stars appeared on the sky. So the timing for Azor Ahai being reborn is right. I believe that “the cold breath of darkness” refers to the Others and their recent activities. So far, this prophecy could fit anyone as long as they are able to draw the new Lightbringer.

For Melisandre that person is Stannis:

The flames do not lie, else you would not be here. It is written in prophecy as well. When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. The bleeding star has come and gone, and Dragonstone is the place of smoke and salt. Stannis Baratheon is Azor Ahai reborn!

ACOK, DAVOS III

No matter how much Melisandre believes in the theory that Stannis is the chosen one, we know that he wasn’t “born again” after the comet appeared.

However Jon, who at the end of ADWD dies among smoke(his wounds) and salt (from the tears of Bowen Marsh):

Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. "For the Watch." He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

ADWD, JON XIII

While Martin hasn’t confirmed it yet, we all know that Jon will be resurrected on the next book because his arc is far from over. Just like his death, it’s possible that his resurrection situation will mirror the prophecy of Azor Ahai.

The strongest Azor Ahai imagery in all the series happens in one of Jon’s magic related dreams:

Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. "Snow," an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she'd appeared.

ADWD, JON XII

Notice how on the end of his dream he sees himself slaying Ygritte? It is possible that it’s his guilty subconsious making this images because he does blame himself for her death. However, we shouldn’t ignore that this scene happens within a powerful, magic dream of his. Ygritte could be his Nissa Nissa on that dream. After all, Jon indirectly caused her death as he was the one who warmed the Night Watch’s of the free folk’s attack. He has already sacrificed his love and Nissa Nissa for the sake of his duty as Azor Ahai once did.

Finally, I want to share a scene where Melisandre asks her god to show her the chosen one but she’s too blind to see what’s in front of her:

Yet now she could not even seem to find her king. I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.

ADWD, MELISANDRE I

Martin deliberately chose to write the word with a capital first letter which is Jon’s surname. He couldn’t get more obvious on which person R’hllor is favoring as Azor Ahai reborn.

#jonsnowfortnightevent2023 #asoiafcanonjonsnow #canonjonsnow #jon snow #valyrianscrolls #a post of ice and fire #azor ahai #asoiaf speculation #asoiaf meta #jon snow meta #mymeta

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mommalosthermind · 5 months

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I’ve gotten a handful of ‘she talks fanfic with her kids? She knows her kids preferences? I’d die of embarrassment. Wild.’

And Y’all. I get it, but also, do you know how sad that is?

Some of that is a hold-over from when it was considered a literal mental disorder. Women were fired, divorced, had their children forcibly stolen from them, were institutionalized. For reading fanfic. It was an extreme taboo with extreme consequences if the wrong person found out you were reading about Kirk and Spock, for fuck’s sake.

Some of that is just the shame the greater world or your own family have pressed deep into you over your interests. You learned not to share anything you love, that way it can’t be used to hurt you.

Some of that is an extension of folk assuming all fic is the porniest porn to ever porn, and the purity resurgence is screwing with your brain.

I get that, I do. I was the kid who’d get right in your face and out-cruel people who’d shit on things I showed an interest in, but I still won’t tell my mother what I write. That’s mine, and I shouldn’t have to fight anyone about it.

But I was also the kid who never had anyone to talk to. Never had anyone to be excited with.

Why wouldn’t I be that person for my own kids? Why would I NOT want to know what fandom’s eating them up today? Which character won’t stop clawing at the walls in their heads?

Why wouldn’t I take full advantage to give them a place where they can be happy? Excited? Where they can SHARE the things they love?

And, frankly, it’s always a wild ride to see what catches them. My eldest (14) writes the most violent things. They like to take characters and break them even more than canon did, and see all the ways they can put that character back together. Do they realize they’re exploring trauma, recovery, human relationships? Fuck no, but I do, and when we talk through it, we can talk about all those things. They like to write about love that transcends everything else. Unconditional acceptance. That means I’m doing something right somewhere, because it’s so intrinsic to how they think.

The middle kid, (12), he likes to write fantasy self insert epics. He gets to be the overpowered guy who also gets the guy at the end. He’s enjoying really breaking down the fight scenes, how the weapons work, spies and double-crossings, magic powers, shit like that. But what he’s also writing is found family. Getting angry and overcoming it. Looking at a shit situation and committing to making it better. Standing up for yourself, for those who can’t stand up for themselves. He’s allowing himself to be loud in a way he doesn’t usually in real life.

Do you know what I got when my therapy-mandated anger journal was purposely unearthed and read by my mother? I got the shit kicked out of me. My kid seeks me out. He sits in my lap as best a 12 year old who is taller than me can, and he goes, hey can we work through this scene I wrote when I was mad together?

Why wouldn’t I want to be part of that? It’s the same for what they read. I want to know. They’re excited! They have thoughts and ideas and guesses and why would I ever make them feel like they’re not allowed to be happy about the things they love?

They’re reading same-sex, bi, trans, ace, aro experiences, and those are helping them find the labels that fit themselves best right now. I want to be part of that, I should be part of that. They should know this bedrock is unconditional because it fucking well is.

I’ve been told my entirely-Blasé approach to sex is weird, and it probably is, especially in the current purity bullshit. But also: sex happens. Sex ed is so laughable here I was told tampons will kill me and I thought babies came out of the belly button until i was like ten. I’m very open with my kids about all of these things because it’s important. They need to know. They need to feel safe talking to me about it. No matter what the fuck it is.

I dunno guys. I know why so many folks’ immediate reaction is “oh fuck no I would never,” but have any of those folks considered being the wall? Keeping all that shit behind them so the next crop of kids gets to have something better than we did?

Let the kids around you be kids in a way you weren’t allowed.

TLDR: Don’t talk about things you love to people who use that to hurt you. But maybe realize you can be the person someone else goes to just to squee.

#Momma talks #fanfic #families #my kids #queer #anti purity culture #pro talk to your goddamn kids

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radashes · 4 months

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Magic Unveiled: Harry Potter Books vs. Movies

Grab your broomsticks, folks, 'cause we're diving into the enchanted world of why Harry Potter books are the real deal, leaving the movies in the dust like a sad Sorting Hat rejected from Hogwarts.

Let's talk about characters – the heart and soul of any magical escapade. In the movies, they're like magical mannequins parading around with a script. Ginny, my dear, in the books, she's got more personality than a room full of poltergeists. The movies just turned her into Harry's background dancer. Bravo.

And scenes? Oh, the movies have this knack for taking a scenic route straight through Cluelessville. Remember the Quidditch World Cup in "Goblet of Fire"? Nah, the movies were like, "Who needs magical sports? Let's focus on Harry's angst instead." Because nothing screams magical world-building like ignoring magical sports!

Now, Peeves, our favorite mischievous poltergeist. Books? Check. Movies? Nope. They tossed him out like a bad Quidditch player. Probably figured they had too much magic and mischief already – who needs a cheeky ghost causing chaos?

Let's not forget the brilliance of S.P.E.W. - Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. The books gave us Hermione's crusade for house-elf rights. The movies? Well, they were like, "Eh, too much plot. Let's cut that and throw in another shot of Harry dramatically staring into the distance."

The movies' idea of "detail" is like serving a feast with only pumpkin juice and a chocolate frog. The books, my friend, are the full banquet. You're not just watching the story; you're dining with the characters, experiencing the full magical buffet of Rowling's imagination.

So, while the movies were busy with their cinematic flair, the books were casually dropping wisdom like Dumbledore at the end of each school year. Here's to the true Hogwarts experience – where the pages are the real magic, and the movies are just a quick spell that fades away.

#harry potter #book review #movie #hogwarts #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy #hermione #hp fandom #hermione granger #ginny weasley #albus dumbledore #professor dumbledore #book vs movie #ron weasley #harry potter and the goblet of fire #jk rowling

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cutekoala1001 · 1 year

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I made Spotify playlists for a couple of Sing characters that didn’t get one! (Song lists are under the cut) ↓

And I made a new Buster playlist! Since he has TWO playlists from the first and second movie, I combined them into one and added some showtunes, some upbeat jazzy stuff, and a few songs that gives off Buster vibes ♡ (sorry it’s so long, he had a lot of music! Mostly oldies but goodies ♪)

♘ Eddie Noodleman ♘

✿ Miss Crawly ✿

⭐︎ Buster Moon ⭐︎

EDDIE:

8TEEN (Khalid)

Moonshadow (Cat Stevens)

Let’s Go Surfing (The Drums)

Ukulele and Chill (Cody G)

Sunflower (Post Malone, Swae Lee)

Ventura Highway (Paco Versailles)

Love Your Days (Cherokee)

Swept Away (Vanilla)

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go (Wham!)

No Rain (Blind Melon)

California (from The O.C.)

Days Like These (Lakey Inspired)

Dream With You - Bosq Remix (Jeffrey Paradise)

Young Folks (Peter Bjorn and John)

Tropical Heartache (Poolside)

California Sunset (Poolside)

Weather (Ralph)

Inbetween Days (The Cure)

End of the Line (Traveling Wilburys)

Pink Sky (Bay Ledges)

Australia (The Shins)

Me and Julio Down By The Schoolyard (Paul Simon)

Baroque Hoedown (Perrey and Kingsley)

MISS CRAWLY:

Lagoon (Havana Swim Club)

You Make Me Feel So Young (Frank Sinatra)

What A Little Moonlight Can Do (Billy Holiday, Teddy Wilson)

Chop Suey! (System Of A Down)

April Showers (Proleter)

Frenesi (Artie Shaw)

Come Fly With Me (Frank Sinatra)

When I’m Sixty Four (The Beatles)

Shooby Shooby Do Yah! (Mocean Worker, Steven Bernstein)

C’est Magnifique (Kay Starr)

Blinuet (Zoot Sims)

The Last Time I Saw Paris (Vaughn Monroe)

Them from New York, New York (Frank Sinatra)

Sweet Happy Life (Peggy Lee)

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da (The Beatles)

きらきらキラー (Kyary Pamyu Pamyu)

BUSTER MOON:

Flirty Cha Cha (The Daniel Pemberton TV Orchestra)

Safe And Sound (Capital Cities)

Don’t Rain On My Parade (Barbra Streisand)

There’s No Business Like Show Business (Harry Connick, Jr.)

Gimme Some Lovin’ (The Spencer David Group)

My Type (Saint Motel)

Walking On A Dream (Empire of the Sun)

The Showman (Little More Better) (U2)

Blinuet (Zoot Sims)

Come to Me (Koop, Yukimi Nagano)

Cake By The Ocean (DNCE)

Dream A Little Dream Of Me (Teddy Wilson)

Over and Over (Session Victim)

Soulful Strut (Horst Jankowski and his Studio Orchestra)

Dancing in the Moonlight (Toploader)

A Happy Song (Victory)

Call Me Maybe (Carly Rae Jepsen)

Lovely Day (Bill Withers)

End of the Line (Traveling Wilburys)

Seasons of Love (Rent the Musical)

Times Are Hard for Dreamers (Amelie the Musical)

Keep Your Head Up (Andy Grammer)

Hang On Little Tomato (Pink Martini)

Smile (Nat King Cole)

When You’re Smiling (The Whole World Smiles With You) (Louis Armstrong)

My Song (Labi Siffre)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice (The Beach Boys)

Mr. Blue Sky (Electric Light Orchestra)

Faith (Stevie Wonder, Ariana Grande from Sing)

I Got You (I Feel Good) (James Brown & The Famous Flames)

The Wind (Cat Stevens)

Hallelujah (Tori Kelly from Sing)

I’m A Believer (The Monkees)

Faith (George Michael)

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight (The Cars)

Keep It Comin’ Love (KC & The Sunshine Band)

Happy (Pharrell Williams)

Sing (Ed Sheeran)

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough (Marvin Gaye, Tammi Terrell)

Sing a Song (Earth, Wind & Fire)

Your Song (Elton John)

Golden Slumbers (The Beatles)

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (Elton John)

Listen to the Music (The Doobie Brothers)

I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (The New Seekers)

Saturday (Twenty One Pilots)

Someone In The Crowd (La La Land soundtrack)

The Blue Room (Zoot Sims Quartet)

Turandot, SC 91, Act III: Nessun Dorma! (Giacomo Puccini)

Viva La Vida (Coldplay)

You, Me, Here, Now (Dam Swindle)

Dancin’ - Krono Remix (Aaron Smith, Luvli, Krono)

Feel the Heat (Ghosts of Venice)

Flashing Lights (Kanye West)

Beautiful People (feat. Khalid) - NOTD Remix (Ed Sheeran, Khalid, NOTD)

Get Down Tonight (KC & The Sunshine Band)

Got To Be Realm(Cheryl Lynn)

Sing a Happy Song (The O’Jays)

Do You Believe in Magic? (The Lovin’ Spoonful)

You Can’t Stop the Music (The Kinks)

Can’t Stop The Feeling! (Justin Timberlake)

Don’t Dream It’s Over (Crowded House)

Take A Chance On Me (ABBA)

The Moonbounce (Koop)

Uptown Funk (feat. Bruno Mars) (Mark Ronson, Bruno Mars)

Off White Limousine (Client Liaison)

Old 45’s (Chromeo)

Pick Up The Pieces (Average White Band)

He’s The Greatest Dancer (Sister Sledge)

You’re The Top (Jeri Southern)

Let’s Go Crazy (Prince)

Daydream Believer (The Monkees)

Don’t Stop Believin’ (Journey)

It’s Gonna Be Good (Next To Normal the musical)

#sing 2016 #sing 2 #buster moon #eddie noodleman #miss crawly #sing spotify playlists #music is such a huge part of these movies!#Spotify

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satan-chillin · 1 year

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Monstrous

Instead of the next virgin to be sacrificed in his temple, Melkor met an opportunistic human sorcerer. (Ice Dragon Melkor & Human Sorcerer Mairon)

For Angbang Week Day 6: Temples

Also in Ao3

❅ ❅ ❅

Of all the things to happen today, Melkor did not expect the meal that awaited him in his temple to fight back.

A strong blaze immediately met his face the moment he stepped in, burning his frozen scales with a hiss. He blinked against the sudden cloud of steam, and the next thing he knew, there were hot chains encircling his feet and another that latched onto a talon of one of his wings. Except the scalding links were not what bound him in immobility but an impressive binding array drawn on the ground with neat strokes. Idly, Melkor recognized the archaic runes used by northern monks, while some were from the experimental spells common from rare sorcerers hailed from the free folk of the south.

Melkor heard an unwavering chant of a hymn, the words ancient though not entirely unfamiliar, and it made one wonder how they could be fluently recited by a mere human.

For it could only be a human and not one of those Holy Ones who had long given up in their quest to eradicate him from this world. Melkor would have felt if it was one of the Higher or the Lower Heralds, and only they had real strength as shown by their power and beauty.

But, oh, this one came very, very close.

A man who sported a crown of short red curls that gleamed with the warmth of the glowing fire stood outside the circle of the array. This close, Melkor could see the glow of his eyes: deliciously golden but brighter than any of the treasures in his hoard. His austere demeanor did not diminish his fair visage one bit, captivating and severe, and in his present immovable state, Melkor wanted.

“Well, well.” His murmurs were but a boom in this human’s ears, but Melkor was not granted even a flinch. “Where have they been hiding you, little one?”

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, inclining his head. The slight gesture had one of the twin long curls of red locks fall delicately past a shoulder. “Who said I’ve been hiding?”

Melkor’s hum was a gust of cold wind. “I suppose they are saving you for the last, hm.” Now he was considering whether to eat this one at all or not. Decisions, decisions.

It seemed to have struck a nerve. “I didn’t come here to be a sacrifice,” he spat. “If you are hungry, your virgin is waiting at the foot of the mountain. She seems to be under the impression that I’m here to save her hide.”

“And what is your purpose here, little flame?” Melkor asked amusedly.

“It depends,” the sorcerer said nonchalantly, seemingly unaware of Melkor’s magic gradually overriding the weakest part of the array. That, or he cared none at all. “If I get to kill you, I get your treasure, the prestige of slaying a dragon, and an entire village owing me for generations.”

Melkor was now grinning with all of his teeth. “You think you can kill me.”

The sorcerer scoffed, though he seemed fairly amused himself. “Oh, no. I’m not that delusional, I’m afraid.” He nodded vaguely at Melkor’s bindings. “But I am confident where my strengths are and where my expertise lies. Sure, it will be to my immense fortune to finish you for good, but weakening you will be enough,” he replied smoothly, arrogantly. “One of your scales and a part of your treasure are valuable on their own. So are a few vials of your fresh blood that I can sell or use for my experiments.”

Against himself, Melkor laughed, a harsh and freezing sound that brought back the chill of his cave. Even more fascinating was the dirty look on this daring sorcerer who appeared offended.

“Peace, little sorcerer. I mean not to offend,” Melkor said placatingly. “You are rather exceptional, aren’t you? You obviously cared not for the human sacrifices nor for ending the tradition and are admirable in your self-serving goals. Unfortunately—ah, this doesn’t seem fitting. Hold.”

Melkor allowed a bright inner light to envelope him before morphing into a much smaller form. More mannish, though with a stature that remained towering over the human sorcerer.

The chains slackened and fell on the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces after frost had bitten through the metal links.

“Your bindings are effective, little one, that much I can admit, but effective only with dragons and not in this shifted form,” Melkor told him graciously, his lesser voice sounding odd and long-unused. He stood with two legs, testing his fingers and opposable thumbs. His nails remained sharp and blackened at the tips, and on his shoulders was a soft spill of dark hair.

It was not his favorite shape, its features mostly he couldn’t change. The ugliest one, he was wont to call it, for he had seen his appearance and did not like it one bit, less so when he had dared show it once to a human child that used to frequent his halls and had been shunned for it. The sorcerer expected the might and monstrosity of a dragon, certainly, and not—

Melkor paused suddenly, blinking at the strange reaction of the human that was neither from fear nor anger for the dismissal of his abilities, but rather…

If he knew any better, he would call it awe.

As if caught off-guard, the human cleared his throat haltingly. “You have a human form,” he said flatly, almost begrudging.

“I’m guessing you were not told,” was Melkor’s dry response.

The sorcerer snorted, and, strangely, held Melkor’s eyes before his gaze boldly roamed over this shape. Without an ounce of fear, he approached with sure steps, his head coming up right under Melkor’s chin.

“I was not told of your beauty outside your true form.”

A blank reaction was what Melkor could only muster in reply, somehow freezing him on the spot and unable to shake himself from the warm hold when the sorcerer reached to lay his palms against his chest.

“Change of plans,” he said to Melkor in a sweet whisper that stirred a long-forgotten sensation from within. “Teach me your sorcery, and my loyalty will be yours.”

A tempting offer, one that Melkor was hard-pressed to agree to when those warm hands began their caress. “Your name,” he said in a rasp, “I will have it first.”

“Mairon,” the human sorcerer gave away easily, punctuated with a soft gasp that indicated the formation of a bond. It left no room for doubt in Melkor that it was his true name, and yet Mairon was unafraid of the power that Melkor would have over him from then on. “And what else would you have of me, My Lord?”

Melkor found the brazenness honestly quite endearing, and with a sly grin, promised, “I can think of something.”

#angbang #angbang week 2023 #angbangweek2023 #mairon #melkor #morgoth #sauron #silm fanfic #fanfic

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