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kheta · 1 year

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The Life and Adventures of Severus Snape an Unwilling Isekai Protagonist

(TW: Death, suicide, mutilation, depression, torture.)

Basically just me putting Snape through Pain for about 5000 words.

Severus dies at 29 in his first life. Youngest Triple Master in all of Great Britain, right hand man to the Dark Lord himself, a legend to all but himself. They win the war, he kills Potter in their final skirmish against the Order, Dumbledore keeling over at Bella’s hyena-like screech and Lily laying in the dirt as she had for over five months now. The war is not the glory that had been touted through his school boy days. Instead Severus has the murder of an eight year old on his hands, a mercy kill perhaps, but one that has left him nauseous all the same.

Children were supposed to be protected, it was why he had followed Cyrus to this hellscape, why he had divested himself of his very soul, rotted to coal as it was. Death Eaters originally had a purpose, to protect the traditions of their ancestors, to protect all magical children from the uncouth Muggles who existed only to destabilise their communities.

But they had not protected anyone in their quest for glory. Cissy can no longer look at him, not when he stood there as their Lord, their Leader created a shell of her husband. Cissy refuses to look at him, Draco his godson, now forever cursed with scars from a bout of curiosity that laid him before the Dark Lord’s feet.

Indeed few had left the war unscathed. The turncoat Pettigrew dead in a fool-hardy Gryffindor act of courage, saving whatever remained of that infectious mutt. Avery and Evan, felled by some two-bit Auror. Andromeda the blood traitor, leaving behind an orphan child to be raised by Bella and her ilk. Nose-turned Tuney who used to make Severus and Lily cakes for their birthday each year until their fourteenth, dead only because her Brother-in-law had continued displeasing the Dark Lord. And him, morose and tainted and dark, alone at the shambles in Ends he called home.

There was no glory in bloodshed, no glory in the tainting of his soul. So it stands to reason that there is no glory in his death. He mumbles the killing curse as he has been doing since his sixteenth and greets death with the relief of a sorely missed friend.

This was not the end for Severus Snape.

He wakes warm, dark eyes flashing at him. To a crowd laughing at his humiliation.

Severus apologises to Lily in this lifetime. A whole flurry of nights spent looming outside her common room, waiting for a chance to see her whole. To see her alive. She does not accept, so he rids himself of her, falling back to Cyrus’ side.

He tries harder this time round, drops his DADA and Herbology Masteries so he can see the Death Eaters to their prosperous future. Reminds his friends of the true cause, to protect the future of magical Britain.

It works, for a while. Wilkes never betrays them, Cyrus lives on past Macdonald’s death. Bella never meets the Prewetts, does not lose herself to madness in the wake of Rastaban’s death and Rodolphus’ tightly-wound anger.

It is not enough. Evan dies, taking down as many Aurors as he can. Regulus disappears one day and the resulting snap of his lost magic against Black wards has Bellatrix seeking vengeance at every corner, honing her crucio into perfection.

Their cause crumbles once more, sooner this time around as Severus hears of a cursed prophecy that steers their forces towards children.

In this life, Severus reaches 38, almost ten years older than the last. The casualties in the first war is many and varied, Evan and Avery both still felled in battle. Tuney lives, as does Harry, the bitter reminder of fruitless glory. Lucius coos over his son as he grows, arrogant yet brilliant, a cocky head of blonde hair and soft questions at his godfather.

Bellatrix becomes a cackling madwoman, gone is the snide, rude friend-of-a-friend who would indulge him in battle and wine, leaving behind a cruel shade of the brilliant, loyal witch she was.

Seventeen years he spends protecting the life of a child who he has killed once already, just to sheperd him towards another death.

He knows not what happens to Harry Potter, only that the last thing he sees are eyes that glimmer in a harshly familiar way.

Again he is awakened, bereft of his clothing, a marionette strung up in the air.

He dies too young in his third life, all of twenty, wanting for too much. Playing hands too boldly.

Lily accepts his apologies in this lifetime, accepts him as he shoulders the blame for two lifetimes worth of mistakes. Accepts his humility even as he continues to scheme.

He loves Lily. But he loves Cyrus just as much. The cause for Death Eaters may well fall too soon, may be instead the reason for vitirol hate, but all the same these people who walk in the shadows are his friends. His family. While he knows now that he can never rid himself of the care he felt for Lily, he also knows he can never be free from the bonds he had made as a mouthy, ill-tempered, half-blooded Slytherin. Where Eileen had ignored his existence and Tobias had scorned it, the Slytherin's in his age group had relished in Severus and all of the anger he held. Had seen the abuse he suffered at the hands of people who had not cared for him correctly, yet stuck with him all the same.

But neutrality is only another word for cowardice in the blurry lines of war.

He slips a few times too many. Wants to save all the contained, fleeting moments of happiness he can for those he calls his.

The Order never come to offer him a place at their side, his friendship with Lily still too tenuous to guarantee his loyalty. This is fine with him because he has little loyalty to a side that fights with lofty goals. To a group of bullies and spectators and few truly kind, truly just people.

He denies the mark at every corner, always has an excuse at the ready even as he continues to support the side of Dark, continues to the soirées that mask their actual functions, funnelling information to Lily through thoughtless comments. His friend thinks herself a spy, looking at him with trepidation and guilt aplenty. He plays her as he does everyone else, each thought, each word carefully composed to his advantages. ‘I am not ready, I must complete my Masteries, I am not competent enough, there are potions and spells in need of patenting and an affiliation with the Death Eaters will surely ruin me politically.’ Perhaps he relies too much on the memories of companionship, for the pressure to join digs at each passing meeting.

Either way his lack of a mark, lack of a brand is what kills him. Voldemort is no longer the patient Master he had once been, he takes care to make an example of Severus and his reticence, his disloyalty. Regulus is green as he watches, hands unnaturally still. Lucius is as pale as he had been the second time around, freshly from Azkaban. Bellatrix keeps her lips pursed, eyes far away in the telltale sign of occlusion, she's not lost in the famed Black madness just yet, has toed the line of love, lust and power but not yet crossed it. Cyrus does not look at him at all. Rodulphus the smug bastard grins the whole time. Severus dies in a matter of hours, the pain sharp and slow and seemingly never ending.

A shout of Snivellous, a whip of air tight in his lungs.

Severus is once more cursed with life.

Something inside of him begins to give way, fractured and aching and lounging in the Dark. He has loved Cyrus for three lifetimes now, has wanted so badly for the Dark Lord's vision of an equal, singular world of shared magic to come to fruition. Instead he closes his eyes to visions, to shadows of his friends dying, tortured and lost. To a crumbling system that time and time again put the brutality of mercy-killing children to the forefront of their crusade. He has loved Cyrus three times over and three times over Cyrus has loved Macdonald, has signed himself over to The Dark Lord.

Severus has won the war once, seen the devastation left by it in another life and failed all those dear to him in a third.

For his fourth life he changes his allegiance. The Dark is enticing but he has studied it over three lifetimes, he knows not what the Light has to offer.

Lily accepts his apologies begrudgingly then with palpable relief when he distances himself from Cy– from Mulciber. Never one to do anything in halves, Severus makes a show of befriending her friends and finds himself genuinely shocked when the show becomes a reality. Him and McKinnon will likely never like each other, both too cold, distrustful and guarded, but Mary's hot temper and wicked tongue is less disdainful when he has seen her temper cool and felt the genuine weight of her apologies. Alice is still a raging bitch, but she's like that with everyone so he takes no offence to her burning glares, instead relishing in the hot blush consuming her entire being whenever Longbottom falls to her feet. It's almost a shame to see the not-yet-couple graduate before them.

The four foolish, arrogant, Gryffindor toe-rags are still a bitter fight between the two best friends from Cokeworth, but he learns to quiet his rage, even if he does not imagine ever liking them.

Considering some of the constants across lifetimes, he thinks it will be harder to keep Pettigrew in the Light. Instead the rat-bastard accepts a blithe invitation to the cinema and falls at Tuney's feet, love-struck and vying with a gentle attention that has Lily's cruel sister thoroughly enthralled. Considering her husband across two lifetimes used to beat her silly, he does not complain about the change in pace.

Come the end of Hogwarts he has a tentative peace with Potter, who now lives in genuine fear of what Severus will do to his bollocks if he were to hurt his best friend. He would still sell Black to the dementors for nary a knut, a shared opinion really. He still throws acidic barbs at Lupin, even as he brews Wolfsbane with gathered ingredients, hiding the sliver of kindness behind a Masteries project he has no claim to. Belby delighted in their shared correspondence however, happy to attach his name as a sponsor to Severus' endeavours.

After three lifetimes of Slytherins, its maddening being around so many Gryffindors. They do not hide their plans to overthrow the Dark Lord. They walk into every room with a swagger and run to their future with a bullheadedness he can scarcely understand. Black and Potter steadfast in their desires to be Aurors, taking their Junior positions under the newly married Longbottoms with surprising grace, not offended that the two year gap has already seen the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff couple into Seniority. Pettigrew happy to travel the world with his new girlfriend. Mary and Lily throwing their own weight into healer courses. Lupin is still red-taped and hesitant to find a proper job, McKinnon happy to stumble through life whimsically. Most surprisingly, they do not need to be swayed by his words and neither do they mind when he so obviously plays them to his advantage.

Lupin and McKinnon listen to his arguments against the segregation of Muggle or Magic and House Rivalries widening a divide with rapt attention. They don't offer unsolicited, baseless arguments against Muggle customs entrenched in the hatred of differences, instead researching their rebuttals carefully. The trio spend hours of their first year post Hogwarts trying to define a future shaped by somewhat optimistic Laws that could benefit both wizarding and non-wizarding kind alike. So many hours discussing this in fact, that when the invitation to live on the McKinnon grounds comes, he's not actually that surprised. Her manor is huge and old, but not the looming ancient quality of the Malfoy manor, instead there is life and kindness and love to the wooden structure, to the large, blooming fields.

He plays some bold hands when the trio end up living together, practically throwing a Mastery sponsorship at Lupin and making small, sly comments about Slughorn's impending retirement. The shock of a future has Lupin almost red-faced as he spouts idillic beliefs of a new generation of kindness, of equity coming to grace Hogwarts. McKinnon, no longer drinking herself blind, seems to toy with the idea of a Transfiguration apprenticeship when he brings Avery over for a quick catch up.

He is 19 and also over a hundred and this new world in the Light is so very different to what he thought it would be.

Of course 20 comes in dark and dreary as it wont to do.

Most of his Slytherin friends had seen his loyalty to Lucius and Mulciber wither and die and had left him with cruel sneers and harsh curses that he accepted. He has chosen the Light and left his friends to die. Again he is the youngest Triple Master in all of Great Britain, even younger than his first life. Nothing else is quite the same, not even the Light.

As attacks on Muggleborns get bolder, Dumbledore the paranoid war-general seeks to reap the loyalty he has sown in his ex-students. Again, he does not approach Severus and when the first meeting his friends were invited to finishes, Severus is sat with a full kettle of chai and sweets on the table, his research into blood-wards stretched wide. McKinnon storms in angry in a way that is surprising considering the last three months they have spent living together, even the usually mild look on Lupin's face is tight, lips quivering.

Behind them is the host of Gryffindors he hasn't seen since Yule. He raises a brow, flickering his hand to start on more tea and spelling some liquor to the table. Black wrenches the Firewhisky open, dribbles of alcohol spilling out of a few heavy handed shot glasses.

Through halted, tight breaths they tell him of an Order he was thoroughly aware of; tell him of a meeting he had not been invited to; tell him of an idiotic, hasty decision made by five teenagers who had been obviously throwing themselves to the tides of war. They tell him of loyalty to a bitter, sarcastic, cruel, ugly man who had been enthralled in the Dark and still chose the Light. Tuney and Pettigrew are still travelling across Asia, Pettigrew desperately trying to keep his beloved safe, but the rest of the foolish Gryffindor's had seen his lack of a presence at a meeting so perfectly tailored to their desire and instead, chose him.

Three lifetimes given and in the fourth, he is finally chosen but not by the man he had most wanted. It's a gratifying feeling.

None of them join the Order, though Frank will occasionally drop information at Potter and Black, careful to be wondering aloud and not to them. All of them, all now his to protect, create another option. He desists on his research, entrenching himself instead in the way of Magical Law, forces his knowledge down both Potter and Black's throats because the dunderheads are the future of Wizengamot whether they desire it or not. Vouches for Marley's Transfiguration apprenticeship at Beauxbaton. Assures Remus that there is no betrayal in accepting a job offer at the most prestigious Magic School in Great Britain. Asks for a hushed favour from Peter when Avery comes crashing into the McKinnon estate, cursed to a pale filth and crying for a mark he cannot refuse when his sister is still in school. Lily starts a crusade for an integrated Healer/Auror unit, Mary as her second, even as she retroactively starts researching a specialisation in mind-maladies. He escorts Marley down the aisle at Lily's wedding, brushes shoulders with Remus in drunken glee, shares light-hearted barbs with a pregnant Tuney across the dinner table, Peter's newly met 'cousins' awkwardly sat at the long table with them, Aid brushing their knees together.

It is a start of a future that leaves him all the more hopeful, all the more willing to put his life in the hands of Gryffindor's if they could produce such foolishly bright paths.

This future becomes more solid, a tentative, rocky truce across most of the year levels at Hogwarts, all silently reproachful and admiring of the stunningly fair, scarred Potion Apprentice signing up to take Slughorn's position. A St.Mungos healer makes a poor attempt at stitching up a half-dead Corbin Yaxley and Lily and Sirius sue for malpractice with the sort of indignant, reckless fury he's always known them to posses. Marley loses her parents and it becomes international news, a French Reporter railing for action against the Dark plaguing Britain, decrying the inaction of French Wizardingfolk marking it as cowardly as the inaction France had been met with during Grindelwald's reign, waxing about the small, misfit group that finally took that particular Dark Wizard down. Regulus meets Sirius for an awkward dinner, the two brothers watched carefully by both he and Cissa, the two unrelated Slytherin's in the room both masking their surprise at the protective detail sat in opposite sides of the bar. Cissa could have half this pub in a tangle of rumours and fights before he could draw his wand. He could have Reg sulking at his feet with only a fierce look. The Black brothers chose their overseers well.

Draco Malfoy meets his Uncle Sirius with graceless tugs at black curls and a wide gummy smile that has his once-Godfather cooing like a blithering idiot. His parents quiet and fearful as they tug the wards around them.

Harry James Potter is born and he has his mother's eyes and his father's hair and a bounding of curiosity that has all of his Aunties and Uncles roaring with laughter, parents more frazzled than ever.

Twenty one has never felt more harrowing, and Severus has spent six years in the company of Gryffindor's, so of course their brash stupidity rubs off on him. He knows not what shapes the Dark Lord's horcruxes takes, but he knows enough to distance himself from the future he is seeing, to bury himself in the Dark he has always sought.

Regulus lives past nineteen, dragged ashore by the bitter asshole he had enviously viewed as a traitor and an inspiration at once. The locket is blast with the darkest magic Severus can conjure, he knows his dark magic well and the locket screeches as the soul within it dies. Severus loses a hand to a ring that Dumbledore had sought out, two lifetimes ago, but it is a victorious loss that assures the future of those he calls his. He sprinkles his knowledge of dark magick across the information net that encompasses The Order of The Phoenix, allowing it to slip through his constructed cracks and into the ears of the wisened wizard he respects ardently and hates all the same. His death is a quiet, bitter thing, him and Bellatrix both burning in the tangle of dark, angrily shouted spells, the reclusive safe house of some old Pureblood decaying with him. The snap and crackle of his magic felt by his shrieking, six year old nephew in the Potter Manor and the hoarse, anguished shouts leaving Marley's mouth as the wards that once tethered him to the McKinnon estate released his magic to the world. There is no body to bury, the crips he knows it will be.

A snap, a marionette laying in the air and Severus, once more cursed with life.

He is old, he tries. Rewrites the history of the last two lifetimes, pulling his Slytherin friends ashore to the Light and tethering himself to the Gryffindor's he has come to love.

Twenty three, dead.

Four horcruxes found, destroyed. A patent for a Wolfsbane potion that renders the user of sound mind and turns their bones to jelly just long enough for the transformation to not hurt. No mastery. No nights spent crowded over a kitchen table with Marley and Remus. A crusade of peace and understanding underpinning his every move. Avery dead for abandonment of duty at seventeen, Mulciber sentenced to a kiss for murdering a minor, Bellatrix once more drowning in grief of her baby cousin's death.

Again.

Frank is a single father at twenty four, Neville not even one yet. Alice avenged by Moody, his anger taking down the stuttering Avery and the overtly powerful Lestrange brothers. Marley is finishing up a study in Magical Law and plays footsie with Meadows whenever they go pub-crawling. Sirius becomes Lord Black as soon as Regulus is of age, his younger brother relinquishing the title and fleeing to studies in Egypt. Peter dies at eighteen, a raid in Knockturn Alley turning violent by the presence of Death Eaters and too rough Aurors, Tuney survives and never steps foot in Magical Britain again. Harry is born and he and his parents are given warded necklaces, tokens to protect them from as much Dark Magic as is feasible. Voldemort is defeated, but not dead, the Potter family somehow safe in the aftermath of the attack. Remus takes on the role of DADA Professor and lives to carry that title on for more than 5 years. His connections to these people become tenuous the longer he passes through their lives. He has no godchildren and no one to come home to disappearing in the cloak of nightfall and spreading his magical research across the continent with broad strokes and badly maintained whispers in the right ears. All in all this is the only death not made in the throes of war, he dies at twenty nine, during the peace filled years in an unexpected car wreck.

Just once more.

Mary dies a week from graduation, taking Mulciber down in the scuffle. Lily disarms and arrests Bellatrix Lestrange two years into being an auror. James lives to name his son and can never again hold his frail form, never again ride a broom, not with the soft whisper of crucio creating tremors from his once steady grip. Out of pure spite, Severus throws tomes of wandless magic at the once auror, refusing to see the man who had run head first into war become a snivelling, regretful coward. Marley and Meadows hold hands as they walk down the street, both already making names for themselves in the Ministry, unafraid to use nepotism to their advantage if it meant fighting for their relationship to be open and honest. Regulus dies fresh from Hogwarts, and there are no apologies sincere enough, no rationalisation strong enough to salvage the friendship Sirius had with Lily. Sirius loves James and loves Harry and can never forgive Lily. Remus fights the war and loses a foot for it, but he finds a quiet cottage to call home in Ottery St.Catchpole and ends up in some odd, quasi threesome and marriage with the Lovegoods that he does not mention in any length. Peter and Tuney still live in Cokeworth, have two sons both glad to look over their baby cousin once he starts Hogwarts. Severus once again falls to the shadows, trying his damndest to kill the wizard he once admired, to finally put a damn end to this curse. He dies as the Dark Lord is once more resurrected, his flung protego protecting Diggory, but not even his strongest wards, his strongest tokens can stop Evan from drawing Harry's blood to the caldron. He spells the portkey to the foolish boys he had come to protect and hears Harry's shout of no in the same moment he sees the jet of dark green flying his way.

By his eighth life he is so tired of war. Does not care if Dumbledore wins or Voldemort wins or if his friends die. He has witnessed so many iterations of them fall before him.

Severus dangles in the air, falls against the ground and does not move.

His mind is a fracture of mazes and occlusion is the only peace he knows, burying what remains of his conscious beneath the icy depths of water.

Through a haze he sees faces. Genuine concern in cool, blue eyes, no twinkle in sight. Guilty, surly faces of enemies and friends and people he may yet love. Severus has played fate so many times, he is so tired, prefers to sit himself unmoving in a white hospital bed. Cyrus kisses him exactly once, the raging inferno of thousands dispelling the calm of his steady river. Severus sinks further, intent to never again see the light of day.

He does not know when he dies, notices a steady lack of visitors, meets a cherub faced Harry and loud hollering Draco and knows no more. Then a blank series of nurses and the old coot who was the most piss poor Headmaster to ever grace the earth. Seeing the ageing visage almost has him leaving the peace of his own mind, though he manages to wrangle those intentions far below the surface.

Snivellous.

Godric Almighty he's fucking sick of this shit. He breaks the spell he had created so many lifetimes ago with ease, lets the familiar weight of his wand rest to his hand, tilting the wooden conduit to his chin and traumatising more than fifty kids by just topping himself there and then.

ANOTHER ONE!

He doesn't care if he has to off himself a thousand more times. He. Will. Not. Stay.

A few Ravenclaws and Gryffindors misreads his intent and disarms him when his magical core begins to coarse with violent, deadly cracks in the ground. Dumbledore comes to speak to him, he does not care. A whole week spent planning his inevitable demise, waiting for Poppy's damned charms to free him from their horrifying, well-meaning grasp. When he's finally released he storms to the top of the Astronomy tower and just jumps.

Of course he had forgotten about the hedge magick surrounding Hogwarts. Another five days of sad useless interrogations and crying Lily and angry Cyrus. When he's at the Great Hall that night, he's so mad that two attempts had failed and just plunges a butter knife as violently as he can through his neck. Sod everyone else.

But no, no dying doesn't work. Death doesn't want him. Not in the tenth life, the fourteenth life, not in his seventeenth life will he finally stay down.

He's tried it all. Suicide by cop, mauled by animals, starvation. It does not stick. He runs away to the Muggle World, does his O-Levels and A-Levels, gets a degree in Chemical Engineering and a Muggle Husband and Son that he gets to see murdered before his very eyes. Very much not because of magic, no, but because apparently leaving your ex-wife for your son's primary Science teacher is a crime punishable by death. Apparently picking your wonderful, kind Da over your abusive, psycho Mum is all strangers need to kill you like mindless savages.

After that awfulness, he runs to East Asia, learning ancient branches of magic. Ignores his unfinished OWLs and the degree he does not have and the permits he most certainly lacked as he trudges through Mainland China, Taiwan, Bangkok, Singapore, India, through the Middle East. He learns enough magic to no longer need a wand, ever, though he shrinks his wand and attaches it to an earring, if only for the companionship it has given. Dies facing a particularly pissed dragon in this life.

Out of boredom he becomes an screen-writer and actor, just drops school and uses ancient Chinese rituals to spell his hair sleek and silky, uses colour correcting charms passed through Indian households to even out his skin tone. A Filipino potion has the bones of his teeth and nose evening out into something more normal looking. By the end of it he might have actually looked a bit fit. A few lifetimes having to lie his way to Helheim and back means he's something of a good actor with enough tragic stories to tell, that he's never in need of a role. He's been through enough pain, enough anger, enough betrayal to embody every character given to him smoothly, to give charming, dry smiles at his co-stars after performing monologues that leave them gasping in fear. This is a fun life, spent with magic oozing from his every move and addled by whatever drug seems to hit his fancy. Bellatrix hunts him down after he's nominated for an Oscar for his role as a naive General under Hilter's regime in love with a poor, captive Jewish mother. Not his own work, but it's his first Oscar nomination so he's a bit smug and really fucking trashed when she finds him at his unguarded apartment. She calls him a blood-traitor and fool and scorns the power she can feel radiating from him, unmasked and developing with him. She gives him a choice for glory. Severus has known glory and hated it all the same, so he sends her off with a kiss against her cheek and promises for dinner. Two days later Macnair, Rosier, Crouch and Scabior come to claim the dinner invite he had given and honestly, it's just easier letting them kill him then it is to fight back. Based on the sharp gleam in his eyes and the sudden raising of brows, Evan realises he had given up long before they got there.

He does manage to kill Voldemort, for good in his eighteenth life. Just follows his magical signature set on the ring to the rest of the bloody horcruxes and uses some refined Japanese spellwork to mutilate the damned things. But Voldemort's death makes no happy ending, creates instead a power vacuum that is still unstable when he steps into as the new Dark Lord. Cissa kills him in this lifetime, a poison in his drink that he could smell when he'd kissed her fingertips.

By the time his twentieth lifetime comes, Severus has knowledge of every form of magic known to wizarding kind, except the kind that will ensure he is never again reborn, has exactly no attachments to anyone and is only searching for a peaceful way to die.

Content to let things lie, he waits until Potter has placed him back on the ground. Spells his wand to a makeshift earring. Flies off to hunt horcruxes, but does not kill the Dark Lord because he can't be arsed looking for the paranoid man on top of everything else. Writes theses under psuedo-nyms, sends ideas where they can be cultivated, puts a very particular potion recipe in Lupin's room and goes searching through Ethiopia and Israel for a good and permanent death.

Why Potter nee Evans, McKinnon, Mulciber, Malfoy and Malfoy nee Black decide to interrupt this journey almost four years later, he hasn't the faintest idea.

Life would be so much better if he could just die.

(If ever I come back to this, the original idea is Lily, Marlene and Narcissa decide to investigate what the hell happened to Severus Snape and why their family magic seems to be honing in on the supernova that is his magical signature. Lucius is going so those damned Gryffs don't hurt his lovely wife and Cyrus just wants to know why the heck he keeps seeing Snape die. Along the way they decide to get attached to him and make sure he's just as attached to them and not spending all of his waking time trying to off himself. It's a particularly long journey.)

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thebestcomicking · 2 years

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Hope (Spintossa FanKid) belongs to @myriam-draws

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whimsicalwankers · 1 year

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With generations of the Potter family being unearthed, may I make a suggestion.

Since we know fuck all about Lily Evans' family aside from her sister, Petunia. I propose that her parents are called Cordelia and Eugene Evans.

#no i do not know where these names came from #its 3 am my brain power is at max rn #lily evans #marauders #marauders headcanon #marauders era #lily potter #Cordilia Evans #Eugene Evans #petunia dursley #harry potter #james potter #marauders fandom #james fleamont potter #fleamont potter #henry potter #ralston potter #euphemia potter

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bloomfish · 2 years

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So I watched Encanto and visually I thought it was really well done. I thought some of the music was good namely the stuff that was in Spanish lol. During the main songs I was thinking "this is incredibly bland Lin manuel miranda generic forgettable modern disney music" sure enough he wrote it. Someone pls stop that man

#im mad she didnt get a power at the end tho even if it was the power if friendship or sthg #like if the house is sentient it purposefully made this girl suffer and feel shit abt herself for YEARS 🤣#ngl i would have such a hard time being the nonspecial family member #like i def understand petunia evans #and if i was a squib id straight up unalive myself 🙃

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leogichidaa · 2 years

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You know.... Petunia/Evan Rosier is a thing in some fandom. 2 bigoted people, why not? AU!Petunia craving for a perfect normal life she'd never have.

I gotta be honest, I'm struggling to conceptualize this. I mean, yes, two bigoted people, I'll grant you that, but bigoted in the complete opposite direction. How...how would they even come across each other? Who introduces them? How do they overcome their immediate disgust for one another? What is occurring here?

No but ok. No. I'm seeing it. Sure. Petunia hates the magical world because she's not allowed to be a part of it. So instead of resolving the cognitive dissonance by making it her life's mission to be the Most Normal Normal Person to ever Be Normal she gets this powerful wizard lover to show off and won't Lily be jealous now? Petunia as a DE bride secretly wishing she'd stuck with normalcy is an amusing concept with lots of potential. She and Narcissa could be frenemies.

Only. Evan Rosier? Why him? Doesn't seem her type. Can I propose Petunia/Regulus? Because wildly I actually think...that would work. I mean obviously it wouldn't at all work. Regulus would just be stringing her along, he's hardly going to marry a muggle, but it would work in a "lol trainwreck" way.

But Evan? Idk, I'm sure you could persuade me if you tried, but the way I characterize Evan he is far too hot-blooded and wild for prissy Petunia. And Petunia is everything about the muggle world that someone like Evan turns his nose up at. Even enemies to lovers feels like a hard sell.

#ask #anon ask #evan rosier #petunia evans #Evan/Petunia #what would their ship name even be?#flower power?#evans blossoms?#rosetuney?#I mean #regulus black

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goldenlilium-ocs · 26 days

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Sure the enemies to lovers Jily storyline is cool, but have we ever considered that maybe Petunia was the reason Lily kept pushing away James’ advances? If the one person who had once loved her more than anyone else could suddenly come to hate her then why would she give anybody else the power to hurt her in the same way?

#jily #lily evans #james potter

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fanfictionroxs · 2 months

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Lily Evans has abandonment issues thanks to Petunia and Severus. Petunia is the major contributor as that's her big sister who should have been her eternal confidant and best friend, but who has been abandoning her in increments their entire lives. Petunia, whose love remains conditional and prejudiced, who loathes Lily's very being, her jealousy turning to spite and bigotry because if she cannot have magic then it is wrong, immoral, unnatural... and so is her sister by extension. And Lily, who has only ever wanted two people in her life, watches one of them abandon her for no fault of her own. And then there's Sev, and I know I said Petunia was the major contributor to Lily's abandonment issues, but Sev was her hope. He was the hope Lily carried that she was worthy of love, that she deserved better despite her own sister's screams of freak! Sev was the one who assured her of this every time she cried about Tuney, Sev understood her, Sev would never choose anyone other than Lily, right? Wrong! Sev chooses Voldemort and abandons Lily for a side that wants her own eradicated, expecting Lily to remain content with him treating her unlike 'other' muggleborns. She's the 'special' one from the group of filth he despises, she's the one who 'deserves' to live, she's expected to fall in line and watch her own people burn while the bigots rejoice. At the end of fifth year, it may have been Lily that walked away, but it was Sev who stole her hope the second he called her mudblood. For in the 'mudblood!' resounds the 'freak!', Tuney and Sev's voices blending as one, attacking Lily's very essence, destroying her hope and faith. So, Lily takes the abandonment issues and vows to take down Voldemort and kill every damn death eater that dares cross her path on the battlefield. She will have no other friends, her trust gone up in flames, her Gryffindor courage extinguished in the face of her fear of being abandoned once more. And she carries that fear and nurtures it against James, so fearful yet resigned of him leaving her (he never will and he will spend their lifetime proving it to her). Lily nurtures that fear far more than she ever gets to nurture Harry, the one love she hopes will never leave her. And yet, it is her who leaves him because there's no other way to save Harry. But her magic stays, her love stays, Lily stays. The girl who got abandoned stays for her baby boy. The girl Lily Evans, the freak, the dirty blood envoking old powerful magic, her blood taking down Voldemort in life and in death for her own creation, her baby Harry. Lily stays.

#will the petunia-lily-sev trio ever stop making me scream?#the injustice towards my babygirl lily ugh #lily evans #severus snape #petunia dursley #harry potter #james potter #marauders #marauders era #meta #snily #jily #character analysis #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #fanfictionroxs writes #voldemort #lily potter

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ariadne-mouse · 9 months

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Blue Perennem

Common names: taintflower, gooch poppy, grundlebundle, taint-patiens, pussy willow, butt-ercup, nether-lily, panty-petunia, chrysanthebum, down-low daisy (1)

Appearance: Leaves and stems are greyish or black, and similar in shape to those of a rose bush. Flowers are a vivid blue, each with six petals, and each petal bearing distinct variegation that resembles a screaming face.

Etymology: Most scholars agree Blue Perennem takes its name from Archaic Common word perennis, meaning "everlasting", possibly in reference to its survival in harsh environments or its use in healing medicines. However, folklore points to its origin in the Modern Common word perineum, which informs many all of its common names. The association of perineum with the flower itself is unclear. It may be that in some phenotypes, the center of the flower markedly resembles an anus, and thus the petals would be analogous to the aforementioned perineum.

Distribution: Blue Perennem is an uncommon flower native to the Grey Valley, a region of the Cliffkeep Mountains north of the Umbra Hills in Tal'Dorei. It can be found growing in areas rich with demonic energy, cursed magic, death, loss, or other sites where significant conflict has occurred.

Uses and cultivation: Blue Perennem is used in powerful restorative medicines, in particular those reversing damage caused by poisons. Cultivation is largely unsuccessful. Despite Blue Perennem's hardiness against the hazards of its native environment, it poorly tolerates transplanting. Advocates of the perineum-origin etymology point to this as an example countering the flower's association with "everlasting".

(1) the author received many unsolicited contributions for this entry from amateur arcano-botanists, especially for common names of the Blue Perennem. Most have been reluctantly included for the fulfillment of linguistic descriptivism, though this author doubts the validity of several of them, especially those from parties who made many submissions and were giggling as they handed over their papers.

#please note this is a comedy post and not a Lore post #though I have used some Lore of course #yes I spent about two hours doing this #it was well spent #please stay tuned for regularly scheduled liveblog activity #cr spoilers #ariadne draws CR #(what at thing to put in that tag)#c3e67 #c3 #critical role #op #fanart

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trippingontheescalator · 5 months

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Snape Headcanons

He's bad at geography. Sure, he knows this super rare, obscure potion ingredient can only be found in this one area in Laos, but ask him to find Laos on a map he won't have a clue. There was a time he dreamed about seeing world, but he quickly realized he would never get the opportunity and so doesn't see any purpose in learning geography.

A lot of the Marauders' claims about him, like knowing curses as a first year, are exaggerated, but the one thing they're right about is Snape was very nosy. Part of it was because it was useful; knowledge is power, after all. He could trade gossip with his fellow Slytherins, or use it to keep one step ahead of the Marauders (or taunt them with it). But most of it is just his natural curiosity. He's a people watcher. He doesn't often understand people, is bad at human interaction, so he watches from a distance.

Severus knows half the first years think he's some sort of vampire and he revels in it. He knows exactly the kind of image he creates, dressing up in those long black, swishing robes, the spooky dungeons with the jars full of animal body parts. His taste is 33% Mad-Scientist-Run-Amuck, 33% Sad-Victorian-Boy-Dying-of-Tuberculosis, 33% Tacky-Post-Halloween-Discounted-Decor, and 1% Lucius's-Increasing-Despair-to-Make-Severus-Into-a-Functional-Human-Being.

In addition to potions and reading, Severus also does a lot of writing. He's been working on-and-off on a novel since he was fifteen. At this point, it's almost 500,000 words long. One of the few ways he's able to express his thoughts and feelings is through fiction. The main character was heavily based on Lily, especially in the early stages when they were still friends, but as he grew older he put more of himself into the character and now she's become the version of himself he wishes he could be. The night before he kills Dumbledore he burns the entire thing.

Severus knows the DADA position is cursed. Everyone knows it's cursed. He still asks to teach it every year because he also knows that it's the only way he can escape Hogwarts, and he's willing to risk death to do it.

His feelings for Lily have gone through the entire spectrum. At times, she was a sister to him, especially the years before Hogwarts. He used to be incredibly jealous of Petunia, wished he could be Lily's sibling and live in their house and have their parents. It became romantic as a young teenager, especially since she was the only person he felt safe enough with for his pubescent mind to fixate on and explore his budding sexuality. Later, as he became friends with the other Slytherins in his year, it was strictly platonic but nonetheless a very deep friendship. They were both trying to control the other, and Severus was especially worried that Lily would end up like Eileen if she gave into Potter's charms. After his failed apology, he grew angry and resentful and he tried very much to hate her (but he couldn't, not even after she married Potter). And then, after her death, it circled back around to brotherly. He liked to remember those early years best of all, and his devotion to a better cause after her death parallels that of Dumbledore's after Ariana died.

Look I know there's a lot of confusion about godparents, and HP didn't help by being coy about religion, but a godparent isn't a legally appointed guardian. Like, they definitely can be if the parents want that (as it appears to be the case with Sirius Black), but that's not the default. A godparent sponsors a child's baptism and is in charge of their spiritual upbringing, making sure they know their catechism, etc (hence the god part of godparent, its a Catholic/Anglican thing). And the most widespread religion in HP does seem to be Christianity with Christmas being celebrated and whatnot (though I do headcanon the purebloods have their own Druidic/Christian hybrid religion going on). With that being said-- Severus Snape is Draco's godfather. He's also Merula Snyde's godfather. And Pansy Parkinson's godfather. And, like, the godfather of 10 other kids of former Death Eaters. Severus Snape climbed the Death Eater ladder; he was one of Voldemort's favourites during the First War and these other Death Eaters were like, "Damn. I got to get on his good side. Please sponsor my child's baptism."

#severus snape #pro snape #pro severus snape #snapedom

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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The Malfoy clan makes a visit to see Dursley!Reader because Malfoy has become platonic yandere for reader because he saw how Harry sees them as a sibling so og plan was to have the reader admire him in an older sibling way but backfires and now adores reader as a little sibling. His parents just want to meet the muggleborn that their son wont shut up about. They become platonic yanderes over time and once meeting reader for real it seals the deal. They have a new child in the malfoy plan. Harry opens the door and damn near has a heart attack seeing his archenemy and his family at the door. Reader comes up behind Harry "Oh Draco! What a surprise! Its lovely to see you again, how has break been treating you thus far?" Oh and are these your parents?" Why its lovely to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, your son has been so gracious to me at Hogwart and has been a great friend! Mrs. Malfoy I love your dress! And Mr. Malfoy Draco tells me you work at the ministry I would love to ask you some questions regarding your work if that is alright?" And Harry is just standing there with a popped blood vessel in his eye and twitching trying not to flip the fuck out. The Dursleys are cowering but are trying to make small talk to be polite. Mrs. Malfoy is being a passive aggressive queen to Petunia "Oh, you must be having handful with two magical children and ONLY being a muggle with no magic it must be hard. Maybe reader can stay with us for a summer to catch up on learning about the world where reader BELONGS to." Mr. Malfoy is putting down Mr. Dursley and his company. "Drills? Why you muggles come up with such inventions and us Superior- I mean magicals are lucky to be gifted with our powers so everything is just so much easier, you must be overwhelmed with a magical child. Narcissa and I would be more than willing to give you a break for a summer and you could go back to being NORMAL." Mrs and Mr Dursley are fuming with them implying that they aren't suited to take care of their own child. Draco and Harry are glaring at each other and Dudley is just staring at these weird people trying to take his little sibling.

I really love the idea of some of the purebloods from Hogwarts and their families just dropping by the Dursley’s house unannounced to see the Reader and get an idea of the muggle family of theirs. Like, as disgusted and perplexed they all are they’re willing to push their prejudice down for a period of time, at least some of it, just for the Reader.

If the Reader were a Slytherin then it would be a lot easier for him to get to them with out Harry around or finding out, at least until he had the Marauders map in his possession. He could easily take on that older sibling role right from Harry if the Reader was a part of his house and in his presence more than Harry’s/the Golden Trio’s/the Weasley’s. He’d be able to monopolize them more than he could if they were in any other house. But I could see Draco reaching out to the Reader if they weren’t in his house through letters. He’d secretly write to them while at school and continue to write to them while at home.

At first, Lucius and Narcissa aren’t very tolerating of the muggle status of their son’s new friend, more Lucius then Narcissa really. Narcissa is honestly happy with the fact that Draco is as happy as he is with the Reader. She slowly doesn’t even consider their blood status anymore whenever they’re brought up. With as much as Draco talks about them and how much he wants them to become more of a prominent part of his life and eventually their family, Narcissa warms up to the idea of it. She feels like she may as well already know the Reader herself with how much Draco goes on and on about them and of course as a dutiful mother she’s always there to listen to him drone on.

Lucius is the one who takes a while to come around to the whole idea of not only interacting with a muggle but bringing one into their family as well. It doesn’t help but add to his frustrations when his wife eventually gets to a point of not acknowledging the Reader being a muggle whatsoever anymore. When he finally confronts his wife about her coming to have accepted this muggle already he’s hit with the most ridiculous response he’s ever heard leave his wife’s mouth; “If we don’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t exist.” How can they not acknowledge it?! They’ll be the laughing stock of the wizarding world, as well as the pureblood community. But eventually Lucius finds himself giving in and indulging both his wife and son, until he himself begins to stop acknowledging the little details and just thinking of the Reader as a soon to be part of the family.

Same as Draco, I could see Lucius and Narcissa eventually beginning to write the Reader themselves. It would start off small, them trying to get the Reader to warm up to them and build some trust before they start mentioning how lonely Draco truly is and how much their friendship means to Draco, how much closer he would like to become with the Reader, or how they should come over for visits during the holidays and spend some time with Draco. They’d also bring up how much they look forward to eventually meeting the Reader and having them at their home. I could definitely see Draco in his letters telling the Reader not to let Harry read any of their letters or find out about their correspondence/friendship. That it would only cause trouble, that Harry wouldn’t let them interact with each other anymore or ever again.

The fateful day that the Malfoy’s do make a visit to 4 Privet Drive, Harry about almost dies from shock on the spot. Once he fully processes that it is in fact Draco and Lucius Malfoy at his doorstep, Harry immediately slams the door in their faces or he would have if Lucius hadn’t used his cane to stop the door from closing. Draco totally saunters his way in, purposefully bumping shoulders with Harry when he does so and then his mother and father make their way in too, taking a moment to take in the decor of a muggle home (or rather lack thereof). The Reader is completely taken by surprise at the Malfoy’s visit but is happy to finally meet and spend some time with Draco, that is if Draco’s gotten them to warm up to and like him since he knows damn well that Harry and the Golden Trio have totally shit talked him to hell and back. Meanwhile, Harry is utterly at a loss, all he can do is glare daggers at Draco specifically but he tosses a glare in Lucius and Narcissa’s way once in awhile too.

Petunia, Vernon and Dudley are absolutely caught off guard by this unannounced, impromptu visit. Hell, they don’t even know these people or have heard about them before but here they are already in their home. Petunia especially feels the off vibes of the situation and one look at Harry’s reaction to the strangers in their home she knows something’s up. Although her youngest child seems pretty okay with it, but that doesn’t take away from the anxiety that runs through Petunia’s body. She can already tell that she’s not going to like these people one bit by the end of this visit.

Once the Reader’s parents are introduced, Narcissa and Lucius immediately put on their best fake smiles and compliments here and there, at least the best they can muster. They are trying to keep themselves in check to an extent, albeit they can’t help but to let their distaste show in some way, shape, or form. Given how out of the blue this is I definitely see each Dursley taking a respective Malfoy with them to pass some time while tea and snacks are being prepared or even lunch or dinner, whatever ever it may be. Lucius gets stuck sitting with Vernon talking about what each other does for a living and overall just trying to one up one another in their successfulness that Lucius ends up winning while totally laughing at and putting down Vernon. Narcissa ends up with Petunia in the kitchen helping put together whatever for everyone to enjoy, judging the fact that they don’t have a house elf to do this all for them and that things would have already been pre-prepped and made before company arrived. Narcissa would further judge Petunia in her upkeep of the home, basically anything that Petunia could take pride in as a housewife. Meanwhile, Dudley is left to awkwardly fourth-wheel Harry, Draco and the Reader. He’s very intimidated and extremely uncomfortable by the intensity radiating off both Harry and Draco as the two glare at each other with the Reader clueless between them.

As much as Lucius and Narcissa consider themselves having done pretty good with their interactions with the muggles compared to how they could have been, they are pretty taken aback by Petunia and Vernon’s animosity towards them when they bring up taking the Reader off their hands for their sake. Lucius and Narcissa try to make it sound like the best thing for the Reader; a new environment, a new family may just be the only thing for them to be successful in the magical world later on. Vernon and Petunia wouldn’t really want to rob their own child of something as important as that, would they? As much as Vernon and Petunia care about and love their child, they know damn well these people are no good and they certainly have no right to take their child away from them. Things start to heat up but Lucius and Narcissa keep themselves composed and leave when the Dursley’s demand they do, dragging a begrudging and upset Draco with them but this isn’t over. Petunia and Vernon have no idea who they’re dealing with.

Vernon gloats about forcing out that ‘freakish’ family from their home, but Petunia can’t help but to feel on edge and given how Harry seemed to be feeling the same, she knew she had every reason to be on edge. Sometime later on, Petunia would pull Harry aside and question him about these strange people. She would have done it sooner but there wasn’t much of a chance to while they all were here. And when Harry tells her about just who these people are and how powerful their family is in the wizarding world, Petunia is even more riddled with anxiety and worry for her precious child and what is going to come the family’s way now that they’ve had these people enter their lives.

#anxious answers #yandere draco malfoy #yandere narcissa malfoy #yandere lucius malfoy #yandere harry potter #yandere petunia dursley #yandere petunia evans #yandere narcissa black #yandere harry potter concept #yandere concept

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 1 year

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Harry Potter’s Twin

Pairings: Harry Potter x twin!reader

Requested by: @insomniacwreck Could you do like Harry x twin! Reader? Like how he’d act, at the Dursley’s and Hogwarts maybe?

Warnings: idk, child neglect? the Dursley family treatment of Harry, the word murder is like once or twice other than that idk, not proofread

A/N sorry for not posting anything in a while, but I had to take a pause bc ✨depression✨, it just hit extra hard this time, but hey at least a bit of my creativity is back, but I’ve mostly been drawing, anyway here’s a headcanon bc why not

Did I know what I was writing half of the time, no the answer is no

I see a lot of fics where Harry and his twin sleeps together under the staircase, but if I’m honest I don’t think two people would fit to sleep there, even if they are small, so I’d say the Dursley’s would give the smallest room, that could be used as a actual room to the potter twins. Of course there’s be minimal decoration, two small beds that used to be Dudley’s, along with an really old wardrobe and nightstand, probably a really small desk if they could fit it, just so that they could actually do schoolwork (thank Petunia)

Both Harry and his twin would do most of the chores, except the few times Petunia does them, washing, making breakfast, dishing, cleaning, you get what I mean

Beating each others only friend growing up, until you started hogwarts that is

I’d think as you are both each other only way of affection you’d probably have a habit of falling asleep in each others beds cuddled up together

As cliché as it might be I do love the fics where the twin is like a replica of James (in looks and personality) and as Harry has his mother’s eyes his twin has his fathers eyes, but I wanted to say was every family needs a rebel, and if the twin acts like James they sure as hell would be classified as a rebel in the Dursley household

Getting in a lot of trouble, like a lot (some by accident some not by accident)

“Stealing” things from Dudley making him question his sanity as he knew he put it down just moments before (he usually blames you though)

Standing up for eachother whenever you get scolded or yelled at

“Stealing” food at night when you weren’t allowed any

Thinking you were both crazy the first time you both used magic by accident

Sharing clothes is a pain but you make it work

Being each others happiness, especially on your birthday as you smile at each other and say “happy birthday Harry” “Happy birthday Y/N” at the same time

Having twin powers, you know finishing each other sentences, knowing when something bad happens to the other, knowing what you’re both thinking (I swear twin powers are somewhat real, I’m a triplet and we have the same power)

Grabbing a letter from the floor instead of the one’s flying (I had to okay, Harry was really dumb that time)

Laughing hysterically when Harry accidentally makes aunt marge into a ballon

Time for the fun part starting Hogwarts

You’d probably be attached to the hip at the beginning, while you’re wandering Diagon Alley with all the knew strange people, you both got your own owls btw, even when on the train you’d be right by each other trying to calm down your nervousness, and anxiety over starting a new school with magic in which you know nothing about, let’s not forget you are both famous for some unknown reason to the both of you

Neither of you cared what house you got in, hoping it was the same house but if it wasn’t you’d be fine with that to, maybe a bit hard to sleep the first night, bc you usually sleep next to each other or at least the same room, personally I would love for Harry’s twin to be a Hufflepuff I don’t know why I just love the idea

A few weeks into the first school year you’d separate a bit, getting friends of your own, but you’d probably be friends with Hermione and Ron too, you could always go to Hermione if you needed help with anything, as she could always go to you with anything, Ron if I’m honest don’t go to him with everything we all know how he is with Harry and the triwizard tournament. But hey anything food related, Ron is your guy.

Yes I do love it when Fred and George are your best friends, and if I’m honest I can see the two older twins taking you under their wing and teaching you all they know, you knew about the map two years before Harry did.

Friends: Fred and George like stated before, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Luna later on when you meet her we all gotta have that one friend (me I’m that friend), obviously Harry as he’s your twin, probably Cedric somehow, it would be fun if you were more friendly to Draco too, oh I gotta as Oliver Wood love that guy, If I’m honest I don’t remember the names of any Ravenclaw s but you’re probably friends with some of them too , as well as Slytherins, we do not follow stereotypes here

Teasing Ginny about her crush on Harry

Detentions

Snape “hating” you

Everyone looking at you like you lit the stars in the sky because you survived the killing curse

It would be fun if you were somewhat oblivious to Harry’s shenanigans being to occupied with your pranks with the Weasley twins. But Harry does fill you in on things so you aren’t completely in the dark, you just couldn’t care less if someone was out to murder you again

Loving Fluffy and Buckbeak because they’re adorable 🥰

Defeating Quirrell/Voldemort together in your first year

You’d probably be able to speak with snakes too though, and in your second year you did it to scare people of who thought you was the one who opened the chamber of secrets

Getting paralyzed with Hermione by the basilisk

Fast forward to Sirius escaping, I’m going with Sirius being Harry’s godfather, and Remus being your godfather, because I cannot leave Remus out my boy doesn’t deserve that

Remus tells you a lot of stories about your parents

Remus doesn’t even want to know how many detentions you’ve gotten by know nor how many times you’ve been in the hospital wing

Getting Fred and George to try and find Sirius Black with you because you want answers and Draco might of let a few things slip when the two of you talked

You did not to your knowledge succeed in finding Sirius but you did find a dog who you brought food a lot of times

Remus and Sirius being proud of both you and Harry for being on the Quidditch team, two of the best players, you being chaser

Knowing Remus is a werewolf bc he told you, but you never told Harry because you wanted to have a secret with your godfather that Harry didn’t know, and if you’re ere honest you could never know how people would react to someone just casually saying “btw our teacher is a werewolf”

A lot of time is spent talking to Remus about your problems and everything else in your life the other time is spent with the Weasley twins

Not getting selected for the triwizard tournament but still somehow ending up at the graveyard with Harry and Cedric

Pranking umbridge a lot, did not end well for your hands, as they are littered with scars from the pen she made you use

I don’t want to cry today so we will just say that you saved Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Fred’s life so no tears today

Yeah that’s about it I think, a lot of chaos ensures after Dumbledore’s death, and eventually Voldemort is finally defeated and you live the rest of your life happily, probably becoming an Auror,

Bonus: would be fun if you published a book, “ the twins who lived” written by Y/N Potter, bestselling book and used in history of magic in the future when referencing to the events of the war with Voldemort

#x reader #x teen #x teen!reader #x you #harry potter x teen!reader #Harry Potter x reader #Harry Potter x twin!reader #harry potter x sister!reader #Harry Potter x sibling!reader #Harry Potter x brother!reader #Harry Potter x platonic!reader

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in-flvx · 8 months

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Sirius hates kreacher. But not as a pureblood wizard who hates non-humans. He recognizes kreacher as a person, with his own free will. That free will just happens to go against everything Sirius stands for as a person in the political landscape! And as a person who held power over him, as an extention of his own parents. Bc kreacher has been an adult, with the ability to use magic, for most, if not all, of the time Sirius lived at nr12 grimmault place. Yes, there is an inherent power imbalance between an heir and their servant/slave. But that doesn't matter when the heir in question is the abused child, and the slave is inflicting abuse on that child!

Just as he doesn't hate snape for being a half-blood. At the point of swm, snape has been thoroughly indoctrinated into the fascist mindset of his housemates. Hell, snape has been anti-muggle in his very childhood, when he attacks petunia, and tells lily that she's good despite being muggle-born.

Remus wouldn't be the exception for Sirius, because Sirius (is a person with a mind of his own, and a fucking strong one at that) already disagrees with his parents at the age of 11. It's not James who is the moral compass for Sirius, we have factual evidence that it's the other way around. Bc sirius is a rebel. But not for the looks of it (he doesn't give a shit lbr) but bc he empathizes deeply with everyone.

Do you think Remus 'I'll run at the first inconvenience' lupin would stay friends with someone so obviously prejudiced against him? Or that lily 'call me a slur in a moment of horrible distress and I'll drop you like a hot piece of shit' Evans would make out her and her sons life into his hands if it was otherwise?

Sirius spends so much time in ootp with placating Molly, and the other weasleys, bc he cares So much, and wants everyone to feel welcome and taken care of, even when he's feeling like shit. It's the first place he has ever broken out of, largely bc of the hostility and politics of his parents - he regularly spent Sunday lunches with the potters even after moving out as soon as he could.

Sirius spends so much time trying to not bother anyone with his own baggage, and stands up for what he believes in. And still manages to be welcoming and loving, even in his darkest hours.

#sirius black defense squad #Sirius Black #Pro Sirius Black #Sorry this will sound convoluted I don't care rn #Just had to get my feelings out

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slaymitchabernathy · 1 month

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Mr. President

President Coriolanus Snow who has worked so hard to get where he is right now.

He’s the poster child for Capitol success.

Orphaned during the war, stellar student at the Academy despite his dwindling financial situation, winner of the Plinth Prize, and top of his class.

Snow lands on top.

So when he becomes President of Panem, he’s not surprised in the slightest.

He’s ruthless during the election, doing whatever needs to be done to eliminate his opponents. It pays off in the end, he’s sworn in and all the power in the world rests in his hands.

Then he has to get married.

His advisors had suggested he do so before becoming President but he didn’t have time, didn’t want to think about letting someone get that close to him, see the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Which is why when he does get married, it’s strictly business.

Until it’s not.

Soarynn Nightingale was an obvious choice. She was classy, smart, kind, and above all she was beautiful.

He really just needed her to get everyone else off his back. They’d have some children, smile for the cameras and that would be that. And in the beginning, it was just as he had planned.

In public, they were head over heels for each other. It’s not like he hated Soarynn. She was fine, always respected his decisions, and most importantly, she played the part. She was Coriolanus Snow’s doting wife who selflessly devoted herself to her husband and her country. She attended every event she was invited to, she spoke highly of him whenever she was interviewed and she always knew how to turn it on for the cameras.

She was a perfect match.

It wasn’t hard for him to look charmed by her presence. Soarynn was enchanting in her own way, but he couldn’t afford to get too close. So he kept her at arm's length. They slept in the same bed together, had breakfast together and then they went their separate ways. It was easier this way.

He doesn’t notice how pretty she looks when she’s still asleep. He always wakes up before her and he definitely doesn’t glance in her direction, watching as she breathes in and out, her chest rising up and down. And he certainly doesn’t get a tight feeling in his pants whenever she wears those godforsaken nightgowns to bed. No, he doesn’t do any of that.

He’s the President of Panem, not some head-over-heels schoolboy.

He never wishes for more than a complimentary kiss whenever he leaves for work. Why would he want to be kissed by her when he’s so busy? He has an entire country to run, he can’t be bothered with frivolous nonsense.

And he definitely doesn’t think about bending her over at the breakfast table and sinking deep into her cunt. No, he never does that.

Neither of them feels the need to talk about it. How on their wedding night they just went to bed, never consummated the marriage. Her father promised she’d never been touched, that she was a virgin. As if Coriolanus gave a fuck. He needed a wife, not a whore. He didn’t care what she was like beyond her charming personality and her kind demeanor.

So he paid her no mind when she’d give him a soft smile, or touch his arm for just a moment when asking him a question. He never watched her get undressed when they were both getting ready for bed.

He’s sure she’s been expecting it, for him to take her under him and claim what’s rightfully his. But once again, Coriolanus Snow is a very busy man.

Until he’s not.

Until he’s had about enough of these teasing antics. He can’t keep his eyes off of her tonight and she’s doing nothing out of the ordinary. She’s sitting on the carpet, playing with Petunia before they retire for the evening. For Soarynn’s birthday, Coriolanus has bought her a sweet little kitten, figuring she’d appreciate the company since he’s gone for the majority of the day.

So every night before bed she plays with the cat, giggling whenever Petunia does something cute. He can’t help but notice how the strap of her nightgown falls off her shoulder, slightly exposing herself to him. Not that she cares or notices, not when he’s all the way over here sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully taking off his cuff links as he does every night.

They’ve established a routine of sorts for bedtime and he knows the next step will be rising from the bed and walking into the closet where Soarynn will follow suit and brush her teeth in the bathroom.

He stays on the bed.

He stays on the bed because as the President of Panem, you’d think he’d be getting a little more action. Sure he could fuck his secretary or some random girl off the street, but why would he when he has his beautiful, willing wife right in front of him?

It would be a waste of a perfectly good marriage.

“Darling,” he says, watching her pick up the cat. Soarynn looks up at him, her eyes slightly widened, “Yes?” She asks, such innocence in her tone. He knows she’s not doing it on purpose, not trying to tease him or rile him up. Soarynn would never do that. Since day one she’s been his good little wife, not some vixen from his wildest dreams. But it seems she’s become just that without even trying.

“Come here.” The look of surprise on her face is quickly smoothed over with a small smile as she slowly pushes herself from the floor, ignoring Petunia’s meow of protest. Soarynn stops right in front of him, her hands clasped behind her back like the good girl she is.

Since marrying her Coriolanus instated a small set of rules. Always use your manners, never stray from my side at public events, and never dress too provocatively. Simple things like that. He wasn't outrageous with his rules, he was a reasonable man. For the most part.

He spreads his legs and holds out his hands and Soarynn gives him a questioning look before hesitantly placing her hands in his. Rarely do they ever show each other affection, even in public. The first time he'd ever kissed her, ever held her hand was the day they got married.

His fingers wrap around him and he tugs her forward, right between his thighs as he looks up at her. When Soarynn isn't wearing makeup you can see all the freckles dotting her face and goodness knows she has a lot. She looks pretty right now. Adorable would be a better term for it since she looks so confused, like a lost puppy.

"I've been thinking," he starts, his right hand dropping her left hand so he can grab her bare thigh, "we never did anything on our wedding night." Soarynn swallows nervously, "Well you said you weren't interested in me, and the-"

"I know what I said Soarynn," he cuts her off. He doesn't need sass. He needs to know how tight that cunt is when it's wrapped around his cock. "I'd like to change the dynamic of our relationship tonight," he continues, his hand sliding up further and further until it's under her nightgown. He doesn't miss how her breath hitches but he pays it no mind. "We need to start a family after all," he says, slightly teasing her.

He's hoping to ease some tension and it works because her shoulders slightly relax and she nods, "Okay," she whispers, "whatever you want."

That's what he likes about Soarynn. She listens.

His hand palms her ass and he tugs her onto his lap, his lips crashing into hers. She lets out a squeak before giving in to the kiss, resting her hands on his shoulders as their lips move against one another. Coriolanus lets out a satisfied groan because when was the last time he kissed her like this? Has he ever kissed her like this? As far as he can remember it's been pecks and nothing more. Not even a longing glance.

Until now.

His hand remains on her ass, squeezing the flesh while the other grabs her waist, pulling her further against him. She lets out a small moan when he bites her bottom lip and it does nothing to help the growing bulge in his pants.

"Have you ever been with another man before?" He asks between kisses. Because he wants to hear it from her, not her father who was so eager to give his daughter away in order to secure his spot in society.

Soarynn whimpers when he squeezes her waist, "No," she whispers, "I was saving myself for my husband." He grins at her answer and basks in the fact that he will be the one to take her virginity.

She already belongs to him so this is really the cherry on top.

Their kisses grow more and more desperate and his other hand is slipping under her nightgown and grabbing her breast. Soarynn gasps when he pinches her nipple, her back involuntarily arching from the pleasure. "Please," she says, her hands carding through his hair.

He tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth, "Please what?" Soarynn rolls her hips to try and gain some friction, "Please make me yours Coriolanus."

It's like she knows how to rile him up. He grabs her hips and stands up, chuckling when she wraps her legs around his waist, her hands around his neck. He only needs to be on his feet for a moment before he turns around and tosses her onto the bed.

Soarynn squeals and bounces on the duvet cover, looking like a little vixen when she stares up at him. Coriolanus smirks and begins unbuttoning his shirt, enjoying how she watches his every move and how she bites her lip when he bares his chest to her.

Coriolanus might be a busy man but he's never too busy to work out. He runs a tight ship with his body and his chiseled figure is proof of that. He supposes she's caught a glance of him shirtless now and then, but she's never acted on it. Always waiting for him to initiate anything with her.

His good girl.

"Like what you see?" He quips, tilting his head to the side. Soarynn nods and her pinks turn a light shade of pink, "Yes, very much so." He looks her up and down, her soft legs crossed over one another, her chest rapidly rising and falling. "Take it off." It takes her a moment to realize he's talking about her nightgown, but she complies with shaky hands. He has to hold back a groan when he finally sees her naked. Well, almost naked. She's wearing a pair of lace panties, baby blue. Those will soon join her nightgown.

Coriolanus takes off his pants next, enjoying how big Soarynn's eyes get when she sees the imprint of his cock straining against his boxers. He beckons her to the edge of the bed with two fingers and he only grows harder when she crawls towards him on her hands and knees, stopping at the edge of the bed. "It's high time I teach you how to please your husband," he tells her, cupping her jaw in his hand.

Soarynn bats her eyelashes up at him, "Yes sir."

He doesn't hold back this groan, in fact, he squeezes her small little face, squeezes it to the point where she whimpers from the pain before he lets go and pulls down his boxers. "I'll be nice this time," he says, grabbing his cock, "but next time you'll be on your knees." Soarynn swallows as she takes a good look at his cock, the tip red and the length long, she licks her lips before looking back up at him, her hands in her lap, waiting for him.

He presses his thumb against her lips until she parts them and lets him slip his finger in. She wraps her lips around it, licking it, sucking it all while maintaining eye contact with him. His little vixen.

He pulls his thumb out, hooking it on her bottom lip and prying her mouth open enough to take the girth of his cock. Slowly but surely he pushes his cock into her mouth, watching as she furrows her brow and tries to take it all. She lets out a gag when he hits the back of her throat, unable to take anymore. She's taken a majority of it and her mouth feels heavenly.

He can only imagine what her cunt feels like.

Coriolanus grabs a fistful of her hair and begins to slowly thrust in and out of her mouth, listening to all the sweet sounds Soarynn makes. She whimpers a few times while trying to keep up, to please him. Her tongue grazes the underside of his shaft and he swears, gripping her hair even tighter as he increases the pace. She looks perfect like this, taking his cock. Tears begin to form in her eyes when he really starts to abuse her throat, his hips rutting into her.

There's some drool hanging down from her chin but no matter how messy she appears she never breaks eye contact with him. Coriolanus smirks, "Look at you, already doing your job so well." Her fingers grip the sheets and he takes a second to admire her body. Her breasts are perfect, they're perky and tan like the rest of her. Her waist is small and her hips slightly widen out, giving her a nice figure even as she's sitting down.

Coriolanus can feel himself getting closer and closer and he grits his teeth, "Let's see how well you can do angel."

It takes him a few more thrusts before he's spilling down her throat, his cock fully pressed into her tiny mouth. Soarynn lets out a gag but he doesn't move and she takes it, her eyes squeeze shut as she swallows his cum. Only when he's fully finished does he pull out, letting her finally breathe. Soarynn coughs, more spit coming out of her mouth and she wipes it off with the back of her hand before looking back up at him, "Was...was that good?" She asks with a bit of a raspy voice.

Coriolanus nods, "It was. Now lie down on your back." Soarynn looks more nervous than she has the entire night as she listens to his order and lies down. He hopes she's smart enough to know he's fucking her right away, a tight cunt like hers doesn't need to be fingered.

He wants to be the first thing ever inside of her.

It's easy to slide her panties off, Soarynn even lifts her hips up momentarily to help. Coriolanus pressed a kiss to her hip before he pries her legs apart, finally seeing that perfect little cunt of hers.

It's pink, it's small and it's so fucking wet.

"You were made for me weren't you?" He mumbles, blowing onto her clit and watching her twitch. "Yes," she breathes, "I belong to you."

She sure knows how to stroke his ego.

Coriolanus fully crawls over her small body, his frame dwarfing her in size. He begins to think of all the things he can do to her, all the positions he can put her in, what he can make her take.

He grabs his cock, still hard and ready, and rubs the tip up against her cunt, listening to Soarynn's moans. She tries to grind her hips up but he shoots her a stern look and she stops. Good, she needs to know how to listen and take it.

"My little fuckdoll," he drawls as he finally begins to push his cock in. She's so fucking tight it's nearly impossible for him to fit but he makes it work. Soarynn lets out a painful whine but he pays her no mind and continues pushing in.

He can't take his eyes off of it, off of her cunt and how it's wrapping around him. Like it was made for him.

Soarynn cries out when he finally thrusts all the way in, taking her virginity in one fluid motion. He looks down at her face to see it screwed with discomfort and possibly fear. "Look at you," he coos, his hand caressing her face, "my little dove is taking me so well." Soarynn gasps when he pushes his hips forward and a single tear falls from her face, "It hurts," she whispers, "I don't...I don't know if I can take it Coriolanus." His hand is wrapped around her throat in an instant and he squeezes it so hard he knows there'll be bruises in the morning, "You will take whatever I give you," he tells her, "morning, noon, and night, you live to serve me, please me. I don't give a fuck what you can't take darling, this is my cunt, not yours, mine."

Now she looks scared. She almost looks betrayed, wondering where her polite husband went but he doesn't care. Coriolanus looks back down at their connected bodies and slowly pulls out, feeling how tight her walls wrap around him before he slams back in. Soarynn claws at his arm but he pays her no mind and begins fucking into her.

Soarynn lets out a strangled moan when the tip of his cock presses against her sweet spot, again and again, abusing it. She feels so fucking good, so warm and tight. He looks down at her stomach and can see a small bulge forming every time he fucks into her, "Look at my little fuckdoll, look at how deep I'm fucking you." He pulls her up to look at her stomach and Soarynn whines, already in a dazed state. He drops her throat and lets her fall back onto the mattress, his hands grabbing her hips. He'll leave behind fingerprints but he doesn't care. He fucks her so hard, so deep. He's going to mold her cunt to fit his cock and his cock only.

"Fuck," she moans, her eyes rolling back when he lands a hard thrust. Coriolanus watches her face as he fucks her, how her tongue sticks out, how her eyes roll back, how fucking dumb with it she is already. "This is where you belong," he tells her, squeezing her hips, "stuck on my cock, bleeding on my cock. You belong to me Soarynn, you're my dumb little fuckdoll and you love it don't you?" Soarynn can barely breathe let alone answer but he doesn't care, he reaches down and pinches her clit hard pulling a scream from her lips, "YES! Yes, I belong to you Coriolanus," she sobs, trying to twist away from his grip.

But he's relentless and pounds into her, listening to the sounds she makes. The moans, the cries, the wetness between her thighs, the squelches. She's perfect for him. "You take it so well," he praises, digging his thumbs into her skin, "like you were made for cock." Soarynn gasps and pulls on the sheets, "Your cock," she moans.

Coriolanus grins, happy that his little fuckdoll is already learning this early on. "That's right angel, now who's cunt is this?" Soarynn whines when he presses his thumbs in harder, "Yours, " she says, "it's yours, belongs to you, I belong to you."

That's his girl.

He leans down and hovers right over her face, "Open your mouth," he orders, watching her struggle to comprehend such a simple order. "Open your mouth before I shove my cock down it and keep it there," he sneers, watching her mouth fall open. He spits into it, pleased when she immediately swallows without him telling her to do so. "Good girl," he praises. Her cunt tightens at the words and he raises his eyebrows, "Little slut gets off on praise? You like it when I call you my good girl? When I tell you how good you're taking it, how tight your little cunt is for me?"

Tears are freely falling down her face. Her face already dirty with spit, cum, and old tears. "Yes," she croaks, arching her back when his hand goes back down to her clit. "Then you'll keep being my good girl hmm? My little fuckdoll will get whatever she wants as long as she behaves." Soarynn whimpers and looks into his piercing blue eyes, "I'll do whatever you want," she promises, "you can do whatever you want with me."

How did he get so lucky?

He kisses her, tasting his own cum mixed with her saliva. They both moan into the kiss and her hands grab his biceps, her nails digging into the skin and he knows she's getting close. "Please," she whines, "please, please, please." He laughs because she doesn't even know what she's asking for, his sweet little fuckdoll. "Already asking for permission hmm?" He teases, speeding up his thrusts and making them hard. Soarynn nods and her teeth graze his bottom lip, "Yes sir." He'll be nice this time, let her cum right away.

She doesn't know she won't always get to cum, that it won't always be about her and what she wants. Sometimes he'll fuck her quick and leave her cunt filled with his cum, dripping for more. And sometimes he'll fuck her till she cries, till she can't take anymore. But she will. She belongs to him, mind, body, and soul.

"Cum on my cock Soarynn, show me what you're good for," he grunts, wanting to feel how tight she can really get.

Soarynn almost looks scared when she cums. Her mouth is open in a silent scream and her eyes are filled with tears while her back bends off the bed. He likes her best like this he decides, right when she cums and he knows that he'll forever have her in his pocket.

He cums soon after, painting her walls and she's babbling all sorts of things. So fucking dumb and full of cock she doesn't even know what to do anymore.

When he finally pulls out his cock is covered in cum and a small amount of blood. He looks down to see the white sheets stained with it and he proudly grins.

She belongs to him now. To the President.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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warnersister · 2 years

Text

Papa’s Wife

Papa Emeritus III x Reader

Papa Emeritus III x Reader Smut

Warnings: forced marriage, unwanted marriage, smut, praise kink, unprotected sex, consensual smut, etc.

It was forced. Not arranged. No. Don’t get that confused. It was a forced marriage. A forced marriage to join the two most powerful churches of the anti-Christ together. A forced marriage between you and Papa Emertius III.

The two of you first found out at a ‘family dinner’. Satan knows why they called it that, after all it was practically just a meeting with food you daren’t touch after learning what the ghouls feast on. Papa Nihil took a gulp of oxygen before turning to your father, “Quade,” Your father hummed. “I believe it is time.” “Si, Nihil. I agree.” He replied, and you looked between the two with questioning eyes, your mother just offered an almost animalistic grin, before the inevitable followed.

“Emeritus, (Y/n),” She began. “You are to be wed.” You dropped the cutlery in your clutch and it clattered harshly onto your empty plate. “Excuse me?” You coughed. “Do not interrupt me, child.” She seethed. “You are to join the two churches in a marital conjoining of law.” Her voice was cold, and harsh.

You had been planning on leaving the church for years. And now you were well and truly trapped. Never mind, you were fucked. “You can’t make us.” Emeritus spoke up, voice shaking slightly as Nihil gave him a side-glance. “We can and we will. On the night of October 31st you are to join in holy matrimony.” She concluded, a sickening look of contempt settled over her features.

“That’s a week today.” You stated, voice rising. “Do not raise your voice at me girl. You will do as I say.” Your mother hissed. “Mama-” “Enough!” She slammed her left fist against the table, causing Emeritus and yourself to jump anxiously. “This is to happen under the watchful eye for the anti-Christ and you are not to disobey me!”

You inhaled sharply before raising from your seated form, chair screeching on the floor as you sent it backwards. You hurried out of the room, not knowing where to go as this was the church of Nihil, not your own.

A cellar. That was where you found yourself. The tears on your cheeks were hot, your mind buzzing with a mixture of angered emotions. You heard the door creak from the corner you were bundled in, but you couldn’t care to look. Why should you? Your life was being sold to a breathing corpse and his family.

“Amor,” You hear the voice of the person you least wanted to see at that moment. “Fuck off Emeritus.” His tone soon changed. “I don’t want this shit as much as you don’t, but at least I have the decency to be civil.” He stated, voice icy. “Civil? I wanted out of my family. Not to be sold into yours.” You told him, looking up to meet his stare. “We are slaves to Lucifer. We have been sold. (Y/n) you cannot run from a fate that has already captured you. Grow up and understand that.” He spat. You just shook you head and dropped it to your knees.

Emeritus approached you and held out an envelope. You raised an eyebrow. “If I am to be married, my bride is to wear the best dress money can buy.” Suddenly he was unable to make his gaze meet your own. “I can buy my own dress.” Realising you would not take his money, he just dropped it by your feet. “Black is a good colour.” He began walking to the door. “There is no point running from it, believe me, I have tried.” The door shut behind him.

The next week passed disturbingly fast, and somehow you found yourself at the steps of Nihil’s Church, clutching a bouquet consisting of black petunias, roses, tulips, and dahlias. The black dress you were adorning trailed behind you, dragging against the cold stone floor. The lace of the bodes dug into your skin and your hair was pulled back uncomfortably tight. Nothing about this day was a fairytale, only the horrors of a nightmare.

To a foreign eye the way your father’s arm was gripping your own was wholesome and heartwarming. But he was merely holding you that tight as to not allow you to flee. He was more anxious than you, him eager to hand you over and seal the fate of the church of the Anti-Christ.

The doors opened and the audience stand, a very limited number of which you recognised. You only looked at your feet and you walked the dull-lit isle. “Stand up straight, girl.” You heard your mother whisper, harshly. You automatically corrected your posture, only looking at your supposed groom when you reached the altar.

Emeritus wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone at that moment but himself, but oh lord, you were gorgeous. The black lace. The long trailing vail. The black flowers. Everything about you was breathtaking. He felt like he had died and gone to hell.

You kneeled on the black velvet cushion beside Emeritus, inhaling slowly and slowly accepting the knowledge of what you were about to do. You hardly heard the voice of the vicar as the ceremony droned out, only to feel your heart drop out of your chest when silence followed the question of objection.

You reluctantly held out your hand as the small blade created a cut in your palm, and you couldn’t help but revel in the pain for a moment, enjoying the feeling of slipping away. Even if only temporary. A slice was made into your companion’s and they were forced together, and you had to stifle a hiss of pain at the sensation of your blood mixing.

The rings were exchanged and the vicar grinned. “You may now kiss your bride.” Neither of you moved, but when Papa Nihil intentionally cleared his throat, Emeritus gently gripped your chin and turned it towards his. “I am sorry.” He left a light and lingering kiss to your lips, but that was enough for the chapel room, as an eruption of applause followed.

That was it. It was done. You were wed and you were stuck. You were now the wife of Papa Emeritus III.

The reception was a complete oxymoron of your mood. It was joyous and even your mother cracked a smile, they were happy and had done their job. You were a pawn. Their pawn. You were miserable and the mascara patterning your skin showed that. You sat on the steps with your head in your hands, bouquet disregarded beside you.

You heard someone exit though the door behind you, and then they perched alongside you on the icy cobblestone. You looked towards your estranged associate. It was Emeritus. Your husband. He said nothing, only sipping on a glass of expensive champagne and allowing his bow tie to fall loose along with the top few buttons of his once-crisp white shirt.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” He told you, eyes not moving from the moon hanging high above the pair of you. You just hummed, turning your head to look at him. “We were supposed to fall in love. You denied like Romeo and Juliet. We were supposed to be forbidden. We were not supposed to be forced, mi amor.” He admitted. You had already accepted it at this point, all optimism being left in the pool of blood sitting back in the Chapel. So all you could do was listen.

“I always loved you.” He said. “I used to comb my hair back when my father said your family was visiting. I even picked you some flowers but I never made it past the doorway. I was scared.” He finally looked you in the eye. “I am still a scared little boy, (Y/n).” He swallowed thickly. “But now I am a scared little boy with a wife.” He just shook his head with a cold chuckle. “You were supposed to love me, not hate me.” You watched a single tear fall from his eye.

You said nothing, not a word in response. But you put your arms around your husband and pulled him into an embrace, resting your forehead against his shoulder. He returned it tightly, inhaling the sweet scent from the mixture of shampoo and perfume. You pulled back and wiped the tear from under his eye and steadily kissed where it once was.

That night he became the Papa of the church. And yourself his wife. He opened the door to the two of yours room and not a word was spoken. You slept in the bed and he laid his head down on the large sofa. You both cried yourselves to sleep that night. Somehow your thoughts were silent, nothing was on your mind. And that confused you. But you knew one thing for certain, you were okay being his wife.

The next morning you walked around as if the other was not there. He made his breakfast and you made yours. He went about his day with his ghouls and you went about yours wandering the gardens. And it stayed that way for a while. Actually for approximately four months.

It was late February, almost March. That day you woke and did something almost outlandish. You made yourself breakfast, and then your husbands. You don’t know why you did it. It was not intentional. And you had not done this previously. But you just did it, automatically. You made him breakfast.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, walking into the kitchen and towards the cabinet for his cereal, not expecting a reply. “Good morning.” You responded softly, holding out his bowl to him. He looked between yourself and the contents of the bowl for a minute or two, before taking it from your grasp and putting his hand on the back of your head, pulling you forward to kiss your hair with gratitude. Thank you, Cara Mia.” He said and for once you gave him a genuine smile, before a silence took over the household once again. But for the first time is was a comforting silence, not a thick or harsh one.

You each got dressed simultaneously and you sat at the vanity, grumbling over the small clasp on your necklace that was refusing to cooperate. He held out his hand and you looked at him through the mirror. “May I?” You passed him the delicate jewellery and held your hair up in your hand as to not get it in his way, and he seemingly effortlessly joined the chain around your neck.

“Thank you.” His eyes met your own in the reflection as you expressed your appreciation, and he reciprocated earlier’s smile. “You are welcome.” He grabbed his song sheets after a moment of looking at each other, and headed for the door. Although, suddenly stopping abruptly. “Would you like to join us? The ghouls would not object to your presence in practise.” He asked, thoughtfully and you turned to him - not even second guessing your answer for a moment. “Yes, I would love to.”

Now, it wasn’t the first time that he had offered you a seat in their rehearsal room, but it was the first time you had accepted. You slipped on your shoes, and followed him out of the door, slipping your arm into his when her held it out for you.

You knew most of their songs off by heart. Not by ear, but by reading. You had taken the time to learn all of the scripted lyrics of your husband’s band, whether you meant it in a loving way or not. You kept to yourself in the corner, picking at the petals of a forget-me-not flower that you had plucked on the way here.

“Is she just going to sit there making a mess?” One ghoul growled, motioning vaguely to the pail petals now haphazardly decorating the floor. You think he was called Dewdrop, at least that’s what Emeritus had informed you. “Are you just going to stand there playing out of tune notes?” You retaliated, sarcastically cocking your head sideward. “Oh you think you could play better than me?” He snarled. “Oh you think you can play?” You reacted and he took a few steps towards you. “Watch your mouth, after all it seems like you’d make a decent meal.” He warned, but before you could strike back, a deafening shout was hollered from across the room.

“HEY!” Emertius’ voice was loud and laced with a horrid venom. He took large and fast strides towards the ghoul, backing him up against a wall. “Watch how you talk with my wife. The scared ghoul could only cower and nod furiously, trail tucked with a cowardice between his legs. “Yes papa.” His once cruel and demanding tone now weak and shaking.

Then your husband turned to you, taking your face into his hands with a light and delicate grasp. “Are you okay, Mia Caro?” He asked, a small and regretful pout at his lips, you only wrapped your hands around his hand nodded. “I am fine.” “What do you say to her?” He asked, head turning back to Dew. “I am sorry.” “And?” “And I will never talk with you in that way again.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, not even with a mask to hide behind. “I forgive you.” And the practise went on, a newly found feeling dwelling in the darkest pits of your stomach after the events of that situation. A feeling that was unrecognisable and foreign, but understandable and welcome.

That night Emeritus walked over to tell you goodnight, but you patted against the spot beside you in the intentionally shared bed. He looked at you with a questioning gaze. “Can you sleep here tonight?” You asked, suddenly nervous for his response. “Please?” He smiled gently, climbing in next to you and turning off the light. It was silent and still for a long while, before his hand brushed against yours. You both pulled back but then you did something even you didn’t expect from yourself, you turned onto your side and placed your head against his shoulder.

Instead of pulling away, he immediately wrapped both arms around you and hugged you close, lips against your forehead and lingering there for a long while. “Emeritus?” You began, voice small and quiet. “Yes, my love?” That was the first one he had addressed you in those terms in English. “I am also a scared little girl.” You referee back fo his confession on your wedding day and you heard him inhale sharply through the darkness. “But I think I am also grown up enough to admit that I have always loved you too. And I am happy to be your wife. Even under these circumstances.” He took your face in his hand and kissed your lips gently, smiling with bliss covering his features.

The next day was the beginning of his first tour as the new frontman of Ghost. His first rituals under the public eye. The brothers and sisters of the clergy gathered around the bus as they were waved off, but The Papa ignored his desperate disciples and focussed all of his attention on you. Your face was cradled in his hands, his bags disregarded by his feet. “I love you.” He told you, caressing your cheekbones with his thumb. “I love you too.” You kissed him forcefully on the lips, knowing that would be the first and last time you had to do that in months. “Be safe.” You instructed in a protective and warning tone and he just laughed wholeheartedly. “I will, mia dolcezza.” And he was gone. Gone to preach to the world the word of the Anti-Christ. Gone from your grasp for another night.

The following day you decided to write to him, a wholesome, innocent little letter describing your feelings and the love you had recently discovered was lying dormant in your heart for him. He returned it with as much love and adoration, and they only accumulated from there.

But the virtue and decency was lost a while after your writings began, and were replaced by that of sin, and many that should remain closed behind the confinements of a lover’s bedroom door.

You were both excitingly anxious and nervously reluctant to send that letter. For it described what you desired your husband to do to you, the things that were disregarded and abandoned from the consumption of your wedding night. And with it, a few small Polaroids of which the contents shall not be spoken through words.

The crude images and sheer lace sent Papa Emeritus III wild. He wasn’t necessarily expecting that message but he was more than great full for it and to return it, a sudden flood of want and need rushing through his cold blood and thumbing through the confinement’s of his underwear. He needed his wife. And he needed you now. And so in return, you got what you gave, a set of small photographs that now sat buried beneath your underwear in a drawer, the sight of his dick now enough to send you into a crazed and dazed frenzy, also - some nights spent by yourself, pleasuring yourself through unspeakable things.

So when the time came for them to return, you stood anxiously along with the brothers and sisters of the church, awaiting your beloveds return. Only snapping out of your distant and wild thoughts when the cheers and eruption of clapping filled your ears, the bus was here.

Papa was first of the bus, and his eyes scoured the crowd, before they focused on you. You both smiled wildly and he shoved through the hoard of followers and straight into your arms. He picked you up and span your around, kissing you with as much force of what should have been at the altar. “I have missed you so much, my love.” You told him. “I have missed you more, magnifico.” He put you down and leaned close to your ear. “You are a naughty girl, sending those Polaroids.” A jolt of electricity powered through your legs and straight to your core. “Did you not enjoy them, darling?” You asked, peering up at him with innocence shining through your doe-eyes.

“You do not want to know what I did with those images.” He growled. “Oh I think the results are sat in my drawer upstairs.” You responded, a small smirk playing on your lips. “You have no idea what I want to do to you right now, mi amor.” He hissed, discreetly grinding his quickly growing erection into your front. “Do it to me, papa. I want you to make love to me.” You stood on the tips of your toes to whisper into his ear. “I need you to ruin me.”

That’s how you found yourself beneath your husband. He had carried you bridal-style back to your shared abode, and carefully dropped you onto your bed, lips hungrily travelling over all the skin he could get to. “Are you sure, amor?” “Please, yes.” You whimpered our, finding yours and his clothes thrown across the room into multiple careless piles.

He appreciated every inch of your body, licking and sucking and marking his territory like a wild animal, only stopping at your underwear to regain consent. “Papa please do something.” You pleased. “What do you want me to do, Mia Caro?” He teased. “Your mouth.” You groaned. “What do you want me to do with my mouth, come on sweetness, use your words.” You cried out. “I want your mouth between my legs.” “There we go, I can do that.” And before long he was kissing a trail down your thighs and quickly then licking and sucking on your sensitive clit, tongue diving into your hole every so often. “Perhaps my mouth was not necessary,” He dragged two fingers against your slit in a teasing manor as you moaned loudly. “You are already dripping, after all.” He hummed against you, sending vibrations pulsing through your body.

He plunged two fingers into you and you cried loudly, an overwhelming sensation filling you as your stomach tightened. “Papa I’m going to, I-” He smiled and nodded. “Yes my love, let go.” And the cord snapped, allowing you to come undone all over his fingers. “Good girl.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and your eyes widened, concerned that he would be unable to fit. “Are you ready, mi amor?” You nodded; letting your head fall backwards into the comfort of the fluffed-up pillows. He slipped inside until he bottomed out, the only noise for a prolonged-moment was the sound of the two of yours mixed heavy breathing, as he allowed you time to adjust.

Emeritus threaded your fingers through his own and raised them both above your head to support his weight. “Move, please.” You requested, and he began rocking back and forth. Once neat hair, now gradually becoming dishevelled and falling around to frame his face. He growled anomalistically, but did not quicken his space. Instead, dragging it out to bask in the long-awaited pleasure and allowing you to feel every inch of him filling you up.

That pleasurable feeling returned once more, and he kissed your lips to help you through it. You moaned into his mouth as you came, forcing him to cum also, straight after you. He remained buried inside of you for a moment, head in your neck, before he pulled out and rested beside you, pulling your body into his and the covers over the two of you.

“I love you, my gorgeous wife.”

“I love you too, my husband.”

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