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genericpuff · 3 months

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Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?

Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-

Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:

Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.

And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.

I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.

That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-

Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-

Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.

And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".

In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.

Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.

Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).

We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-

Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.

Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.

LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.

This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.

But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?

#anyways sorry that was a way deeper response than it oughta have been #welcome to the AMA roulette game of “ask puff a simple question which they may or may not respond to with an introspective essay"#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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talesfrommedinastation · 3 months

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My redneck neighbor Doug on the Jedi in 'The Clone Wars'

Y'all have asked, and Dr. Meat Muffin might be a disgruntled old hag that chugs too much Trader Joe’s bourbon and doodles too much subpar art, but she keeps her promises!

Just so y’all know, if you’re a major character (Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, etc) you keep your name, because it was drilled into Doug’s head over 8 seasons of Clone Wars and the movies. Everyone else, though, Doug gave up and created his own catchphrases for them.

CW: This one's not as spicy as Doug's previous rants regarding Star Wars, but y'all know if y'all know. "It'll all come out in the wash."

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Plo Koon: Ah, Shrimp Daddy. He looks like a shrimp that’s been boiled and left in the sun after a potluck. But my wife LOVES him, she says he has the nicest voice and she wishes he’d narrate some books. I loved him too, he was my favorite. That scene where he tells his clone boys in space that they’re important to him? Ah great. They should have him lead HR meetings.

Aayla Secura: Babe-the-Blue-Jedi. They sent her away from the Temple because Yoda didn’t want that hotness distracting everyone. Is she and Miguel (Bly?!) dating? They are, right?

Kit Fisto: Reggae Swamp Thing. Tell me that boy don't look like he lives in the Atchafalaya and bangs on the steel drums all day. I wonder if he stole those shorts from Michael Phelps. He’s cool but does he need to have a tank to swim in on his ship? Does he have gills? I need more info on this guy.

Adi Gallia: Storm’s Cousin. Doesn’t this chick look like her? She does, right? Maybe she's a Jedi cause she can't control the weather. Didn’t Maul’s brother Saul impale her on his horns and that’s how she died?* Why didn’t Maul do that to Obi-Wan? Maul was obsessed with Obi-Wan, do you think it’s because he had a crush on him after he sliced him in half?

(Doug also ships Obi-Wan with Maul now? IS THERE ANYONE WHO DOUG DOESN'T SHIP OBI-WAN WITH?!)

Shaak-Ti: Ahsoka’s Aunt. They’re totally related. (“No, they’re not.” “Says who?” “Um, EVERYONE?!”) She’s cool, nice to the clone boys. I like her horns.

Saesee Tiin : Angry Bull Boy. He looks like a minotaur whose daddy left him at a Wal-Mart instead of the Labyrinth after drinking too much.

Deepa Billaba: My Coworker Anu. Seriously! She looks JUST LIKE HER. I even texted her a screenshot, and she used that as her Slack Channel picture for the longest time. Nice lady, she's a good master to Lil Kanan. Hm, Lil Kanan sounds like a rap person my niece would listen to.

Ki-Adi-Mundi: Mutant-Mall-Santa. Look me dead ass in the eye and tell me the man don’t look like he was supposed to hand out presents and ask kids what they want for Christmas and ended up hanging out in toxic waste instead. He's a snotty asshole, I don't like him, he thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.

Luminara Undali: Lady-in-Drape. She’s a green lady, and she wears a drape. Meat Muffin, I'm tired and it's about to snow.

Barriss Offee: Little Lady-in-Drape. Man, she was awful, but she had good points, ya know? Kind of like Darth Maul. Do you think Darth Maul and Obi-Wan ever dated? Or would Obi-Wan’s boyfriend get jealous?

Quinlan Voss: College-Hippie-Boy. Doesn’t he just look like one of those goofs that fart around with hackysacks all day long? I'd buy weed from him if he was selling, he looks like an exporter and consumer, if you know what I mean.

Even Piall: Dobby the House Jedi. Man he looks like he was on his way to help Harry Potter or something and ended up in a bathrobe with a light saber. Ah well.

*= Savage is ‘Saul’ and Feral is ‘Paul’. So it’s Maul, Saul, and Paul. I strained a muscle laughing when I got this.

Tagging my Redneck Doug stans here! @amalthiaph @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @thecoffeelorian @merkitty49 @megmca @skellymomam I missing anyone?

Let me know if I missed any Jedi, those were the ones that came up that Doug didn't immediately recognize.

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floswife · 1 year

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𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦-𝗛𝗝𝗣 𝗫 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗢𝗖

Warnings: Fluff, Gaslighting, James possessing Harry

Pairing: Harry James Potter X Ravenclaw!OC

Author’s Note: Idk I just wrote this for me so it’s not really plot heavy, it’s set in fifth year but there’s not any mention of the DA or Umbitch

Summary: Juliette Rosewood, a Muggleborn Ravenclaw witch. She had never thought she’d me destined for much trouble, that was until a certain raven haired Gryffinfor decided to take a liking to her.

It was another day at Hogwarts and Juliette was late to Potions. Again.

But was it really her fault that the damned stairs moved randomly? She braced herself for a scolding, it was fifth year and her O.W.L.S were just around the corner, that and the fact that she wasn’t a Slytherin would surely lead to Snape ripping into her. A sure equation to a sizeable amount of points to be docked from her house.

She entered the classroom with her long dark curls flowing behind her in a frenzy, she frantically looked around the class for a free seat and saw that there was only one left next to Hogwarts’ resident celebrity/troublemaker, Harry Potter.

As Snape’s back was turned she crept to the seat, Harry giving her an amused look.

Snape turned around and his eyes immediately zeroed in on her, “Miss Rosewood, did you arrive just now?”

Juliette shrugged, “I was here this whole time sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harry stifled a laugh behind his palm.

Snaps narrowed his eyes, “You were late.”

Juliette feigned a look of offence, “That is a vile accusation sir.”

Snape visibly angered, “Alright, what is it that I was just talking about right now?”

“Draught of living death.” Harry murmured to her in a voice so low it was only audible to her from behind his palm.

“Draught of living death, sir.” She said with a sickly sweet smile before giving Harry a thankful look.

The rest of the class watched in amusement as Snape visibly questioned his sanity.

He turned to Harry who gave his best innocent look that almost made Juliette burst out in laughter, “Potter, tell me, was Miss Rosewood here this whole time?”

Harry nodded, “Yes she was sir, you should get Madam Pomfrey to check your memory.”

The whole class stifled a laugh as Snape turned red, “That won’t be needed. Everyone turn to page 177, I want a bottle of the draught of living death made by you and your seat partner on my desk by the end of this lesson or else detentions will be given.”

The whole class groaned and got the ingredients needed for the potion.

Juliette turned to Harry, “Thank you for that, by the way, you didn’t need to do that.”

Harry shrugged, “Anything to pull one over Snape, right?”

Juliette laughed in agreement, “seriously, I owe you one.” Harry smiled at her and the two spent the rest of the lesson laughing and teasing each other, talking about meaningless things and just enjoying each other’s company, surprisingly they even managed to get a decent draught of living death on Snape’s desk and didn’t get detention.

Oh how she’d regret those words.

Juliette was proud to have been named prefect of her house, both her parents were muggles and many didn’t expect much of her. However, when she received the letter and the shiny blue pin, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfilment.

Now, as she did her nighttime patrols, she no longer felt that fulfilment but only an overwhelming sense of tiredness and boredom. Seriously, shouldn’t this be considered as child labour? Dumbledore ought to hire some more damned teachers.

The dulled haze she fell into as she trudged along the hallway, her wand alight making the portraits shout some rather rude things at her, fell once she heard hurried footsteps along the corridor she was in.

She laughed to herself at the poor soul running down this corridor, knowing it was a dead end.

She then saw a familiar head of raven hair and bright green eyes and round glasses and she forced herself to suppress a groan of frustration.

Does this boy ever have a normal day at Hogwarts?

Harry looked relieved to see her and stopped by her as she looked at him with wide eye, his cheeks were slightly flushed from the running as she looked up at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“Do you ever just… follow the rules?” She hissed at him, not even wanting to ask who he was running away from.

Harry feigned a look of deep though before nonchalantly shrugging, “No, I don’t think i do.”

She just rolled her eyes and she grew even more annoyed when she heard distance footsteps clattering after him and a distant, “Potter!”

Harry’s eyes widened and she gave him a deadpan stare, her eyes sleepy, “who was that and what did you do?”

He took in a sharp breath, “That would be some Slytherin prefect looking for an excuse to put me in detention, and as for what I did…” he trailed off before flashing a charming grin that affected her more than she would care to admit, “that’s on a need to know basis.”

Juliette pinched the bridge of her nose, evidently too tired to be dealing with this.

As the footsteps drew closer he visibly grew more panicked before turning to her, “you said you owe me right?”

Her brows knit together in confusion and before she could even open her mouth to speak, his arms had wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body, his lips pressing against hers.

She gasped in surprise and kissed him back nonetheless, one hand cupped his jaw while the other loved to run through his messy raven locks.

The footsteps drew closer and then drew to a halt right before them, a gasp could be heard and then a rushed, “sorry.” Was muttered before the person ran off again.

It was then that Juliette pulled away from Harry, though still stayed in his arms, not quite ready to leave his warmth yet.

She knew that her face was probably bright red at that moment, feeling the hot blood pound in her ears. Harry had a dazed look on his face and a goofy grin spread across it.

Juliette smiled softly at him before realising that he had only kissed her to avoid detention, so she stepped out of his grasp.

Harry frowned slightly, his arms feeling empty without her.

“So, this makes us even now?” She gave him a small polite smile.

He blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out, “Um yes of course! Brilliant.”

She hummed before giving him a pointed look, “now go straight back to your dorm before you kiss some other unsuspecting prefect.”

He blushed, giving her a bashful look, “I would never dream of it, only you get the privilege.”

Her heart sped up slightly at the words, “Goodnight then, you flirt.”

He chuckled, “Goodnight darling.”

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dreamingamelie · 4 months

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Hazel headcannons according to me. also im sorry if this is badly written English is not my first language and this was written at 2am so… enjoy

-i think she had like a rlly hardcore fnaf phase and knows all the lore and was excited about the movie but kinda disappointed that there wasn’t so much gore, also i feel like she dressed up as bunny for Halloween in fifth grade and everyone thought she was just a normal bunny

-she’s a boygenius fan duh, i mean what says lesbian loser more than being a boygenius stan…

-i think she likes bugs and isn’t afraid of them, like she was the type of girl that would pick them up and tell people in kindergarten to not step on ants bc they had a family

-she watched the walking dead but stopped when glenn died bc he was her favorite.

-she’s a harry potter fan and she would make all her friends take the hogwarts houses quizz even if they’d never watched the movies (shes a hufflepuff fight me) also cries everytime she watches dobby die

-i feel like she’s very organized bc she likes to take notes about everything so organization its very important to her and i feel like her room would be really tidy and organized

-has a new hyper fixation over food every month like if its fucking plump season or shit like that she would just eat that until she’s sick of it

-plays with legos, and has a big box with every lego set she ever had mixed together, but she would also have her favorite sets in shelf’s displayed in her room

-she absolutely has the highest taekwondo belt rank she took that shit seriously and i feel like she loved karate kid as a child but her mom got her into taekwondo (i know karate and taekwondo are two different things)

-her favorite holiday is halloween and loves to dress up even though sometimes people don’t get what she’s dressed up as, and gets sad when people tell her she’s too old to trick and treat

-big true crime fan, idk just seems like it.

-she definitely watched those fucking rapunzel x mavis videos on youtube and obscure shit like that, she watched youtube unsupervised

-had a pet fish but died after a week and she got so sad she cried for weeks bc she felt terrible and watched nemo

-she has a minecraft two week phase every month and probably has a world with josie and pj

-has a weird thing about socks, if the fabric or stitching itches her she has a full breakdown about that, she is very specific about what socks she wears

-has a collection of rocks in a box titled “cool rocks”

-i feel like the majority of her closet is thrifted although she has the money to buy expensive or brand new clothes she thinks thrifting them gives her more originality and also saves money to buy some explosives or shit to make bombs idk😭

#hazel callahan #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan headcannons #hazel x reader #bottoms movie

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sheeple · 9 months

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Miracles don't exist | 17: Exploding hippogriffs

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Non-con kissing? / angry Harry A/n: I know Death Eaters can't cast a patronus, but I don't care. [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Meet me in the Viaduct courtyard. — Harry

You look up from the letter and meet the boy’s eyes from across the Great Hall. Did he seriously owl you to talk to you? That’s bold. You nod and stand up from your seat at the table. “I’m going for a walk. The pudding isn’t sitting right with me.”

“Do you want me to join you?” Theodore is already halfway standing, but you lay a hand on his shoulder and push him down.

“I’m fine, I just need some air.”

You give Harry one last glance before walking as casually as possible out of the Great Hall as possible. Making your way to one of the secluded areas of the courtyard, you wait for Harry to show up.

And once he does, he immediately rushes towards you. A bold smile grows on his face before he kisses you. It’s not a peck or on the cheek. No. It’s a full-blown kiss.

Surprised, your hands are suspended in the air and eyes blown wide. Finally breaking from your shock, you push Harry away. Before he can question your action, you blurt out the truth. “I’m engaged!”

His shoulder sag and you feel guilty. You clutch a hand in over your mouth. “I-I’m sorry, Harry. I shouldn’t have said it like—”

“To who?”

You flinch at his harsh tone. “Theodore Nott”, you say in a small voice, almost a whisper. You take a cautious step back as the anger rolls off Harry in waves.

Harry’s face hardens. “The git ignored you all last term and suddenly you’re engaged to him? You’re unbelievable, Black.”

“I-I can’t… It was not my decision. If I had the choice to get out of the stupid tradition, I would! Besides, you knew! I told you!”

Shaking his head, Harry turns around. His fists are balled and his nostrils flared. “It’s always you lot that blames your own wrongdoings on ‘traditions’.”

“My lot? Who, Harry? Slytherins? Purebloods?” You cock your head to the side, getting pissed off. You’re seriously taken aback by his sudden demeanour.

“Death Eaters!”

You can feel something snap between the both of you. Both your eyes are wide. You’re shocked. Baffled by what he just said. And Harry’s are wide with shame.

“So that’s how you think about me.” You take a step away from The Boy Who Lived, betrail tasting sour on your tongue. “Guess Weasely was right. There are no nice Slytherins.”

Shaking wildly his head, Harry tries to grab your hand, but you’re quick to snatch it away from his touch like he burns you. “N-no! You’re not one of them! You’re good! I don’t… I don’t know why I said that.”

“You wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it. I know who my family is, and what they have done. Not everybody is like their family. Not everybody is amazing Harry Potter, whose parents are considered heroes.”

You raise your head high and turn to walk away. Yes, you have so much more to say to him, but that would only lead to pain and heartbreak. And you do not have the energy to do that right now.

Even later that day, when you're laying like a sea star on your bed. Theodore's sitting at the foot, actually studying for once. You're still hurt by Harry's words. You should have said those words to hurt Harry just as much as he has you.

But you want to be better. You don't want to be the person they expect you to be.

"Theo", you say suddenly, wanting to talk about anything else. The dark-haired boy hums as a sign that he is listening. "Why did you join the Inquisitorial Squad?"

Theo's quill hovers a couple of inches above the parchment as his neck turns a blotchy red. "Do you promise to not laugh?"

That pulls your attention and you flip onto your belly, you head next to Theo's. You nod and keep your face as neutral as possible.

"I knew you joined that illegal DADA study group of Potter's, and I want to... I don't know. I was so irritated with that. And once Malfoy and the others spoke about joining Umbridge's squad to catch Potter, I joined too."

A smile grows on your face as you lean up on your elbows. "Theodore Nott, were you so jealous that you joined Umbridge's ass-kissing force?"

A vibrant blush colours Theo's cheeks and he turns his face away embarrassed. You roar with laughter, rolling onto your back. Theo jumps up from his position on the ground and jumps on top of you.

His hands find your sides and he starts to tickle you. Uncontrollable laughter rings loudly through the dorm room. You trash wildly, trying to take hold of Theo's hands to stop his assault.

Finally, when Theo stops, he's hovering over you. One hand next to your face and the other resting on your side. He has a look in his eyes, one you recognise from Harry. A pit forms in your stomach and your smile drops, turning your head to the side.

A concerned frown grows on Theo’s face. He softly and slowly lays a hand on your cheek, making you face him again. “I won’t force you. No matter how much I am dying to kiss you, I will never do it if you’re not one hundred per cent okay with it.”

You gaze into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in the dark-haired boy. A shy smile grows on your face and you reach up, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you", you whisper, grabbing his elbow and squeezing it.

Harry won't look at you. And to be fair, you're relieved. Ron also seems to give you dirty glances and you figured that he told his best friend. Of course, you would do the same. If you had one. On the other hand, Hermione looks at you in pity. If Ron knows, so does Hermione. You haven't had the chance to speak to her, as the next DA meeting is in fifteen minutes.

You're moving as swiftly as you're possible through the hallways, all to avoid Filch and the Inquisitorial Squad. You hear footsteps getting near so you move to the furthermost corner of the hallway. Hidden in the darkness you spot Goyle, some guy from the Slytherin quidditch team, and Theo pass by you.

Whsipering his name, you make Theo stop in his tracks. His eyes search around until he spots you. You sign for him to keep silent as the two dum heads keep on walking.

"What are you doing here?", he whispers harshly as he grasps both your arms. He looks over his shoulders, seeing the two boys disappearing behind a corner. "Listen, I don't know how or why but Umbridge is planning something for Potter's study group. You should not go tonight."

Frowning, you lay a hand on top of his. "I have to go. He's teaching the Patronus charm tonight. It's important..."

Theodore sighs but relaxes his hold on you. "Fine— just stay safe okay? I'll try to hold them off as long as possible but I can't promise anything."

With a nod and a smile, you press a featherlight kiss on his cheek before hurrying down the corridor and to the suddenly-appearing door.

You try to get Harry's attention, try to speak to him about Umbridge's plan, but the Griffydor boy is dead set to dodge you. After half an hour you give up and focus on the lesson at hand.

"Make a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember." Harry walks across the room, helping people raise their wands.

You sigh, knowing this will be a difficult task. Hermione, next to you, looks at you and gives you a sympathetic glance. "You have one in mind?"

"One... maybe two could work", you shrug, "you?"

"Let's try!"

"A full-bodied Patronus is the most difficult to produce but shield forms can also be equally useful against a variety of opponents. Just remember, your patronus can only stay as long as you are focused."

Okay. Focus. You've got this. Happy memory. Happy memory... ah! You start to envision the Yule ball. Dancing with Theodore and Gjol. Weak white whisps come out of the tip of your wand. No, not good enough.

You look at Hermione and see that she has conjured up a full-bodied Patronus. An otter.

Determined to do better, you search for a happier memory. Theodore... the muggle film theatre... popcorn... kissing Theo on the cheek... Something powerful travels through you and out comes a- a hippogriff?

The majestic beast struts through the chamber, spreading its wings and knocking two people off their feet. Everybody stops to stare at you and your hippogriff.

Just as you want to reach out and touch your Patronus, the room starts to shake. Like it's an earthquake. But the trembles are too rhythmic. Too controlled. The lights flicker and you all slowly walk towards where the booming comes from- the entrance.

The mirrors crack and fall, revealing a small hole in the wall. And just Harry goes to look through it, you all head, "bombarda maxima", and Harry can jump out of the way just in time before the wall explodes.

Through the gaping hole in the wall stands Umbridge with her squad and Cho Chang looking like she wants to cry being held by Draco. At the far back, you see Theo and you make eye contact. He gives you a look that says he's sorry. And you nod. You understand. It's not his fault. And it's not yours, for wanting to do the right thing for once.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobsessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyz @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee

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lunas-side-anime-blog · 1 year

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Modern College Student/BF Armin Arlert Headcanons

(rewatching aot and damn I forgot how much I love armin. someone pls put me onto some good armin fan fiction? this boy doesn’t get anough attention honestly, lemme know if you guys want me to do anyone else, im thinking eren next?)

Pre law student

I think in the modern world, Armin would only look at his love for the ocean and nature as hobbies. When it comes to investing in his education and making money to support himself and his family, he’d go into a major he’s good at just to be safe. And that’s persuasive arguments, crazy attention to detail and maybe a little manipulation for the greater good so yeah…lawyer it is 🙂

Currently focusing on political science for his BA before law school

Shares a small apartment with Eren and Mikasa cuz they all looked at dorm life and were collectively like “yea, fuck that”

Armin and Mikasa are up first every morning, and they usually share a lil breakfast together before deciding which one should dare try to drag Eren out of bed

Has the best color-coded notes, the type of student to type into the chats links to resources he found helpful when doing the homework, pulls thru with the quizlet right before quizzes

Heavy on that study beats, listens to it even when not studying

Has canva pro and no you cannot use it 🫶🏻

Strict study schedule but he doesn’t go overboard like other honor kids. He gives himself plenty of breaks and plans his workload so he can enjoy his weekends bc he knows he’ll be useless all burnout

His Starbucks order is an iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso, sometimes with a blueberry muffin, boy likes his sweets

The Starbucks staff around the corner knows him personally and even have a lil crush on him since he's there so often, polite and always puts something in the tip jar (he may get a few free cake pops here and there)

Loves the sims and doing little legacy challenges, the type to get emotional when his sim gets married or has kids because he fr raised them

Deep into the lore too, has his theories about Bella Goth and hates Don Lothario with a passion

One time Eren deleted his saved family and Armin didn’t speak to that man for two weeks

Secretly loves fanfiction but only found family fanfiction bc it reminds him so much of his relationship with Eren and Mikasa. Soft spot for anything Harry Potter tho (proud ravenclaw)

I don’t think he’d smoke weed bc I feel like he’d be a paranoid high so it’d be more stressful than relaxing tbh

But he always trip sits his friends!

Will go to parties if dragged along but the most he’ll drink is like a twisted tea or white claw and just kinda watch his friends get hammered like 🫣

The type of guy at the party who’ll get dragged into some drunk crying girl’s story about her bf and he’s just sitting there with his one drink, sober asf like, “omfg bestie! you need to dump him, like i’ll help you draft that text rn”

Smells like Johnson and Johnsons baby soap and like he’s so embarrassed about it but his skin is so sensitive he has to use the goo goo gaga stuff

Other than that he kinda smells like fresh laundry? Uses too much detergent and dryer sheets so his clothes smell like extra good and he doesn’t wear cologne so yeah, hope you like Tide bitches✌🏼

Very loyal to the vanilla bean burts bees chapstick

Has a blue hydro flask that he always has with him, also constantly reminding his friends to drink more water

Totally has scared Eren by telling him about kidney stones and how the dumbass might have to just pee out rocks if he doesn’t drink sum fucking water.

Eren now takes hydrating v seriously :)

Most of his friends will go to him more than their actual advisor bc Armin is just much more helpful tbh and he loves telling them which classes or internships they should take.

Actually prefers articles and podcasts over books bc of practicality and he already has to read so fucking much for school

But is lowkey one of the annoying ppl where like any conversation you’ll have will end with him like, “Oh earlier I was listening to this one podcast and-”

Has painted his nails a few times but I think he’s a nail biter so he kinda stopped after unintentionally eating so much nail polish

Secret passion for skin care, may or may not be a skincarebyhyram stan

Tried countless times to get Eren to at least wear spf everyday but yea, that bitch don’t listen

Mikasa does tho and they actually go to sephora together once every month for lil skincare hauls (baddie w her baddie friend)

Calls his grandpa everyday, even if it’s just for a few minutes bc he knows his grandpa is all alone now that he left for school and armin just wants him to know that he’s doing fine and making him proud

As your Bf

You guys probably met thru a friend of a friend, most likely you befriended Mikasa or Eren and they started bringing you over and eventually Armin would meet you

Bc in no way would Armin actively search for something romantic when his main focus rn is getting his degree but like damn you were just-

Wow

Anyway, as your bf expect literally so many forehead kisses

Kinda clingy bc he is indeed a scorpio, once it’s official between you two every night he’s like “so we sleeping at my place or yours?”

Bc why would you guys just sleep apart from each other?

Armin fr forgot how to

Fav cuddle position is you on your back and him with his head on your chest and arms around your waist

Bonus if you play with his hair and whisper sweet nothings by his temple

I’m on team soft dom armin, boy is a ppl pleaser for sure but still a dom

He’s pretty vanilla and heavy on praise, but if you want him to go hard and degrade you or manhandle you, he would as long as you guys set up a safeword first

His post nut clarity would hit hard tho and he would be so afraid you saw him as some sort of sexist pig afterwards

“WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL AND STRONG, IN NO WAY DO I CODONE-”

“Babe chill all you did was spank me.”

If you have a vagina, he is like super educated on the anatomy🤓

Fr makes you pee after sex

Washes his hands before fingering you and you’re just sitting there trying to stay in the mood like “😀”

Tbh the only things I think would be off the table for Armin is anything unhygienic or like anything involving other ppl bc boy is too insecure and possessive for anyone else to be seeing you like that

Sex on the beach isn’t happening either.

If you try to convince him he would just be like,”Sand will end up everywhere (y/n)! Honestly, it’s like you WANT a yeast infection!”

Having a pre law bf is literally having your own attorney at your beck and call

If you have a problem with a teacher for example, Armin would fr hop on a call with the college and be like “sweetie, who was the head of your department again?”

Next thing you know the poor teacher is fired lol

Can and will fight all your battles

The perfect study buddy, like he'll make flashcards for you without you even asking or telling him what the next test was about?

You never have to edit or revise your essays again, Armin is just proud that you wrote it all out, he’ll take care of it from there so all you have to do later is submit

Armin made one day of the week your guys’ date night and literally someone would have to die in order for him to reschudle bc the boy takes it sooo seriously

Literally Eren can call from the hospital and Armin will just be like “you know what day it is? Right, it’s Thursday. Which is date night for me and Y/n. So unless that broken arm turns into organ failure, don’t call me!”

Date nights are museums, cafes, planetariums, sometimes you guys will even take a class together

But honestly, the best dates are the ones you guys have at home bc he likes just having you all to himself

Boy is jealous, but more so possessive

Like, it takes a very certain action to piss him off enough to act outwardly bitchy

Boys can make you laugh, they can compliment you, they can try to impress you

But if a boy were to try to protect and care for you?

Armin will snap

Thats literally his job and he sees it as a threat

Will go out of his way to make the dude look really incompentent.

Your study partner brought you a snack bc they know you missed breakfast?

“Y/n doesn’t like that brand, it hurts their tummy. Maybe you should ask before just shoving whatever in their face😒”

Its cold out and some guy offers you their jacket?

“Woah there, prince charming, I don't think your 10 dollar Old Navy hoodie is gonna cut it. Darling, why don’t we head inside and get you a hot drink? 😇”

A guy friend stops by with some medicine bc he heard you were at home sick?

Armin’s there at the door like, “My baby’s immune system is really weak right now, the last thing they need is strangers just coming over and making them sicker. How thoughtless are you?🤬”

Fights don’t really happen bc Armin is so good at de escalating situations, he’s also just such a simp for you that you’ll always gets your way

The only fights he won’t back down from are the ones where he feels like your safety is at risk

Over his dead fucking body would you do anything even remotely dangerous

This is where I see manipulative Armin. He’d use his skills to convince you that you didn’t even care about what you were arguing for in the first place

At first he might feel a little guilty but after realizing you’re objectively safer from his manipulation, he doesn’t feel as bad

Kinda yandere tbh, but really soft and not dangerous

Your location should always be on tho☺️

Fav Nicknames for you: darling, baby, princess/prince

Songs that fit the vibe: Turning Page by Sleeping At Last, Bad Habit by Steve Lacy and As The World Caves In by Mat Maltese

“Yes, it’s you I welcome death with, as the world caves in.”

“Nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart.”

“Thought you were too good for me my dear, never gave me time of day my dear.”

#armin headcanons #armin arlert #armin aot #aot #attack on titan #modern attack on titan #armin x you #yandere aot #yandere armin #attack on titan headcanons #college armin #anime headcanons #yandere attack on titan #daddy armin #yandere anime #headcanons

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st4rfckerz · 4 months

Note

Ur most recent post is eating my brain from the inside out I cantttt

I’ve js been thinking about trying to stay quiet for (dilf? 🤔) ani 🤭

He’s quite literally trying to make you be loud, but his words are different. He’s whispering “shhh baby, don’t want everyone to hear you getting fucked by General Skywalker do you?” But his hands are going everywhere he knows are sensitive, and his dick is hitting that one sponges spot inside of you. He isn’t fooling anyone, his hips angled that way and his signature cocky smirk spread across his face.

He’s an asshole, but you love it.

-🪩

(But seriously, I’m convinced you could literally write the Harry Potter books if you tried hard enough)

ohhhh he'd want everyone to hear how good he's fucking you, even if he's saying the opposite.

i think he'd also be the type to try and make you talk while purposefully brushing against your most sensitive spots knowing full well that you can't even think straight and just being like

"come on baby just speak, i know you can."

(ps you're so sweet 😭 i'm actually kissing you right on the mouth rn, i'm glad you enjoy my writing that much <3)

#anon🪩#nai answers!#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #st4rfckerz

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forestdeath1 · 2 months

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Hopelessness

@prongsfoot-microfic

It turned out that this microfic is 1600 words long, so if it's more convenient for someone to read on AO3, here's the link.

It's jilypad.

---

Sirius kisses Lily’s belly, stretched by a muggle T-shirt with Black Sabbath on it, his gift. The air's filled with the light scent of jasmine from the open window, letting in the cool June breeze. Lily isn't really into Black Sabbath, but Sirius hopes the band's symbolism might somehow influence Harry’s musical taste, since he’s got no hope with Lily and James. As Lily recently said, she wears that T-shirt solely because it features a "handsome vocalist" who reminds her of Sirius. Sirius is quite pleased with that outcome.

They're sprawled on a wide sofa under a soft blanket, Sirius snuggled up beside Lily. The quiet of the Potter home, only interrupted by the ticking of antique clocks, always puts Sirius in a peaceful state. Lily gently strokes her rounded belly, while Sirius, with his arm around her waist, draws patterns on her skin, occasionally leaving soft kisses in response to the baby's sharp kicks. James, sitting opposite in a battered chair once favoured by Fleamont, reads the newspaper, his eyes scanning the pages gloomily.

"Oh," Lily exhales lightly. "He's been kicking all day. Extra lively today."

"Harry," Sirius murmurs softly, amazed at the depth of feeling he has for a child not yet born. "My handsome, smart boy."

"When did you get so sentimental?" James asks, not looking up from his paper.

"Since you married this incredible woman and started your own amateur production of 'Tiny Humans.' Even my frostbitten heart had to defrost for the premiere."

"Oh, my love," Lily, smiling softly, reaches out to gently ruffle Sirius's hair, "sometimes I think, what if I'd married you instead of James? How much prettier would my child be?" Lily's light, carefree laughter makes Sirius smile.

"Hey," James perks up, pretending to be offended. "There’s a lot of Blacks. And only one of me. Harry's gonna have the most unique hair in all of Magical Britain."

"And the dullest sense of humour," Sirius shoots back, still focused on the belly, speaking in a teasingly sweet tone as if talking to Harry. "Hopefully, you’ve got a better one. You got a bit short-changed on the genes from one side, but I promise to teach you."

"At least my humour doesn’t make people want to off themselves," counters James.

"You adore my jokes, don't kid yourself."

"Haven't heard one yet."

Sirius flicks his middle finger at James, who just chuckles, then removes his glasses and rubs his nose bridge in mock exasperation.

"Everything alright?" Lily asks him, concern in her voice.

"Yeah," James replies, trying to mask the worry in his voice. "Just going to make some tea."

Rising from his chair and heading to the kitchen, James leaves a trail of unspoken thoughts behind him. Sirius watches him go, and Lily, with a soft sigh, shakes her head.

"He's like this all day. Lost in thoughts about the war. Sticks to me like glue. Fancy taking him out somewhere? Hit a pub? Even stay out all night. He needs to get out more. He can't keep guarding me from God knows what," Lily adjusts a stray lock of Sirius's hair, a simple, familiar gesture.

"Alright, but not tonight," Sirius responds tenderly, kissing Lily's belly one last time before gently running his hand over her soft skin and carefully standing up from the sofa to not disturb her.

"Patrol?"

"Yeah," Sirius glances at the old wall clock, "and I'm already late."

"Why don't you move in with us?" Lily stops him with the question she poses every month.

"Don’t start," Sirius says with a light reprimand. "I'd end up covered in old people's dust here, sipping teas and reading newspapers. Tea? Seriously? When was the last time I drank tea?"

Her laughter, bright and full, fills the room, reflecting off the warm glow of the candles. She could easily shift from a pensive mood to mirth, and really, it took nothing to make her laugh. Lily was always so light, Sirius adored that about her. Like an autumn maple leaf playfully dancing with the wind – always ready to soar at the slightest breeze.

"Come here," she extends her arms, and Sirius leans in, allowing Lily to plant a tender kiss on his lips. "I love you," she looks at him, her gaze filled with care and tenderness, "Be careful."

"You too," Sirius smiles and ruffles her hair. "Look after Harry."

Stepping into the hallway, leaving Lily resting on the sofa, Sirius grabs his jacket from the coat rack and pulls it on, whistling a tune he caught in some noisy muggle café.

"James! I’m off."

James peeks out from the kitchen, holding a pack of tea.

"Not staying for tea?" he asks, knowing the answer already.

Sirius isn't much for tea, yet James has been offering it to him for years. In an attempt to make the drink more appealing, he once even started spiking the tea with Firewhisky. That gimmick worked for a while, but soon not even Firewhisky could dispel Sirius's irritation with the whole tedious, monotonous process.

"No, got patrol."

James looks slightly disappointed, tosses the tea pack onto a table cluttered with books and newspapers, and approaches Sirius.

"Lily suggested we should hit a bar," Sirius mentions.

James shrugs, adjusting his glasses absently.

"I can't leave her alone. Every time I go on patrol, you know it’s torture for me. I keep thinking something might happen, that they might attack our home, and…"

"I know," Sirius cuts him off. "That’s why I’m not inviting you. Just passing on Lily’s words."

James gives a soft smile, tilting his head slightly.

"You’ll come over on Friday?" he asks.

"Yes."

"And stay the night?"

"Of course."

James nods and hugs Sirius, pressing his face to his neck. Sirius leans into his ear, kissing it and breathing in the scent of earthy moss and the morning forest. James's scent always carried the notes of their moonlit adventures, as if his skin had absorbed the essence of those nights. They stand in silence for a moment until the soft hum of an old radio playing a vintage jazz tune Lily adores drifts in from the living room.

"Everything will be alright, James, hear me?" Sirius whispers, probably a bit too roughly patting James on the head as his movements have grown more abrupt lately. "I promise. Everything will be alright. With Lily, with you, with Harry."

"Yes," James says, rubbing an eye then running a hand through his hair. "Of course. It'll be alright. With you too."

"I'm not that important."

"Don't talk like that," James responds in a strained voice.

"I’d do anything for you, whatever it takes," Sirius says in a matter-of-fact tone, as if they’re discussing a Christmas dinner menu, not talking about things people usually don’t say to each other when everything’s fine.

James steps back, looks up at Sirius, and smirks, chasing away the worried shadows from his face.

"Have I mentioned you’ve become sentimental?"

"I've spent too much time around a mushy sod like you," Sirius grins, shrugging. "Bad influence."

James laughs, shoving Sirius's shoulder then pulling him in close, as if wanting to hide away in Sirius's broad embrace.

"I love you, you idiot," he kisses him, fingers threading through Sirius’s hair, tousling it. "Don’t be late on Friday. Lily’s making your favourite blueberry pie."

"I won’t," Sirius breathes out huskily.

James nods, and Sirius steps out the door. The June air hits his face, a warm breeze flicking a lock of hair from his forehead. The scent of night flowers mingles with the smell of fresh paint – someone nearby decided to give their fence a fresh coat.

Sirius moves a few meters away, casting one last glance at the Potters' house. James stands in the doorway, leaning on one shoulder against the frame. Sirius catches his worried gaze and nods subtly in response.

A moment later, Sirius apparates, but James's troubled face lingers in his mind like an echo. Usually, James's face brings peace, but this time it leaves a quiet itch, a reminder that Sirius is missing something, yet can't quite grasp what it is.

The war makes everyone nervous, anxious, and lost, and Sirius knows better than to succumb to these draining sentiments. But seeing those feelings in James – the person who made Sirius believe that even in the coldest winter, there's an unbeatable summer living inside him – Sirius realizes things are grim.

Of course, Sirius will come over on Friday. Perhaps he'll stay for the weekend, and they'll spend it together, like old times, before the threat of war knocked so clearly on their doors. They'll wake up to a late breakfast in the garden, reminiscing about school under the rustling of green leaves and birdsong, and perhaps even making plans for the future where the war is just a distant memory—a future where Sirius already knows exactly how to raise Harry and what gifts to give him from the very first months of his life.

A future where they're together.

After breakfast, they'll apparate to the lake, where James will set up broom races, beating Sirius yet again. Lily, always rooting for Sirius, will put on a theatrical display of disappointment and spend the day cheering him up, recounting for the hundredth time the tales of James's rare Quidditch misplays at Hogwarts—as if Sirius didn't already know each one by heart.

After dinner, James will suggest a game of wizard chess, and Lily will pick out a book to read aloud by the fireplace. Soon, she will head to bed early, as has become more common since she got pregnant, and James and Sirius will go out to the garden, lie on the grass, and spend the night forgetting all worries, remembering that it's moments like these for which they're fighting and ruthlessly suppressing the hopelessness that seeks to consume their souls.

#james potter #sirius black #lily evans #prongsfoot microfic #jilypad #it seems to me this might be too saccharine #prongsfoot

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rockingrobin69 · 8 months

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Soup Thursdays at the office

There were four fish in the bowl, and all of them were George. Draco named them, and apparently didn’t find it at all confusing.

“There’s George one,” he said, tipping the fish food over the tank with an exasperated roll of his eyes, “that’s the little red thing in the corner. Boy George is the one with the stripe. George two always forgets it’s been fed—and then this one, it’s just George.”

“Just George?” Harry asked, a crinkle in the corner of his lip.

“Not—just George. Its name’s George. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Just George is the best.”

Draco sighed, carefully administering colourful droplets of feed. “Of course you’d play favourites with the fish.” Rubbing his hands clean, head tilted to the side, giving Harry that look. The one that made his mouth go dry. “Now, unless there’s anything…? Then excuse me, Mr. Potter. Paperwork awaits no man.”

Oh, right, he was in the way. Had this habit of crowding Draco into tight corners, entirely unconscious. Harry took a step back, and another, startled and warm in the cheeks, mumbling this half-formed, automatic response that wasn't quite an apology. Draco walked away with a small smile-part-smirk, leaving Harry at the windows, near the fish tank, heart racing.

This wasn’t at all what he came out here for. Not to watch Draco feed the fish, third time today. He needed the copies for Mrs. Nelson’s case, and he needed… a moment. Honesty. Like he’s not built any resistance, stacked up any immunity to Draco’s—antics. Come on now, come on, come on.

Copies, then. Throat cleared, breath caught, head shook, Harry gathered himself, bit by bit. The copies were in the cabinet, by Draco’s station. Could have just asked him for it. But that would’ve led to a whole new debacle, and besides, it’s good to get away from his desk sometimes. Before he hired Draco, he never remembered to stretch.

Forgot to stretch still. Got an email, ran back to his office and furiously typed a reply to his stupid boss who wanted to assign them another case, as if their hands weren't full enough. And then it was getting near lunch-time, and Harry’s belly started on this dance, a little jig it only learned recently. Since Draco.

Thankfully, it was a Thursday, and Harry came prepared. With the fancy soup he spent three hours making, and the softest rolls Aldi had to offer. He caught Draco on the way to the kitchenette, signalled with his eyebrows (and with the tub, raised in promise). He’s really going to like this one; Harry made sure to get the cheese he knew Draco preferred, the perfect bottle of wine to pair with it. For the soup, he meant. Not that he brought wine to work. Harry may have been silly sometimes, but he was still an adult, and a professional. Who took his job seriously. Very seriously, even.

A fact he often forgot when Draco did this. Just walking, mind you, but slowly, almost on-show, dragging the chair next to Harry with big open eyes. Didn’t ask, didn’t say anything: crossed his arms in his lap, waited. It made something in Harry jump, seared right through him.

“French onion soup, as per requested. With so much fucking cheese it’ll give you heartburn. You’re welcome.”

“Looks delicious,” Draco said. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, a gesture so small it had to be unintentional.

That burnt bit inside Harry sizzled. “Why don’t you try some?” he handed the microwaved bowl. “Careful, it’s really hot.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Draco said, with that look. “Aren’t you having some? Heartburn isn’t something to suffer on one’s own.”

He tried to laugh the dry-throat-ness away. “I will, yeah. How is it? Too much salt? Not enough?”

“Mm,” Draco took a spoonful, closed his eyes. “Perfect.”

Whatever he was going to ask melted away. Took a moment or two to shake himself, get up. Punch the time on the microwave with a slightly-trembling hand.

Harry started this a while back, bringing lunch for the both of them. Not so much as a decision as a series of events: too much pasta made, an extra sandwich bought by accident, leftover soup from soup Wednesday. And—he got a little addicted, he supposed, to the way Draco reacted. The way he—

The beeping of the microwave made him jump, meet the cabinet, too close, too suddenly.

“All right over there?”

Cursing under his breath, Harry nodded, returned to the table with a throbbing forehead. “Sorry. Got a little… distracted.”

“Mrs. Nelson?” Draco asked, handing him a napkin, then a spoon. “She called again. I told her we don’t have the results yet.”

“No, not that. We’re getting a new case. I've been trying to fight it, but...”

“Fighting the boss man,” Draco nodded. “Always drama with you, isn’t there. Hand me the pepper, please? Thank you.” Without another word, Draco was peppering Harry’s dish. “So, more importantly, it’s been brought to my attention you haven’t signed up for the draw this year.”

“Hmm?”

“The draw. Strictly come dancing? You know, the only thing anyone in the office talked about all week.”

Harry wasn’t all that interested in office talk. He might have heard about this one—had this vague recollection of Draco in blue, nattering about some dance show on the telly. “Can’t say I… sign up?”

“To the draw. Each pair picks a couple out of a hat. The principle is very simple, you should be able to follow.”

“Pairs,” Harry repeated, just to be sure he heard right. Tasted the soup: peppery, the way he liked it. “Who… erm, who’s your partner?”

Draco gave him that look again. “Why, Mr. Potter, it’s you, of course. I took the liberty of signing you up—please don’t be mad, it’s important for the people here to see you taking part. Not just, work-work-work all the time. It’ll be good for you.”

Harry grunted something wordless and tight. “Fine. If I'm with you it’s not—fine. What’s for the winners, then?”

“Of course you think you’d win it.” But he was smiling. “I don’t know, HR hasn’t announced yet. Probably some puny prize not even worthy of taking home. It’s for the camaraderie, knucklehead.”

“Camaraderie. Right. I think I know what that means.”

Draco rolled his eyes. It was warm in the kitchen, and nice. It was nice. They ate their soup in peace; Draco was busy with his crosswords, that he never completed and never gave up on, and Harry went back to his notepad, looking at what still needed to be done for Mrs. Nelson. Lunchbreak never used to be like this. Unrushed, like it was important all on its own. Draco made things feel like that. Important.

When the bowls were empty: back to the office, and the copies he forgot to take from Draco’s station were waiting on his desk. With a smile, and a sigh, and another sigh, Harry sat down and got to work.

He had to finish everything for Mrs. Nelson by tonight, with this new case threatening to take most of his time. Harry was no stranger to late nights, to coffee after coffee and reading until his eyesight blurred fuzzy. It was five thirty by the time he looked up again, and that was only because Draco was at his door.

“Hmm? You were saying something?”

Leaning against the doorjamb, long legs crossed, head tilted back. “Just enjoying the view,” with a wink. “Come on. Time to go.”

“Can’t,” Harry said, raising the contract he was currently reviewing. “Got to finish this first.”

“Mr. Potter,” Draco said, in that tone. Harry felt the lump he just swallowed, burning all the way down his chest. “Can’t leave me to brave the train station all by myself. I might get lost.”

“Please do,” Harry laughed, helpless. “You know I drive anyway. And you take the bus.”

Draco’s eyebrow arched, unimpressed. “You’ve stayed late every night this week.”

“It’s only Thursday.”

“Exactly. Now get off your arse, please, or you’re going to be in serious trouble.” When Harry didn’t look persuaded, he sighed, overly-dramatic and far too sweet. “Don’t make me beg, Sir. Not in the office. It’s unseemly.”

The ‘pah!’ of his laughter didn’t go a long way to hide the blush, coming rapidly and extensive. “Shut up! I have to… it’s the new case. Got to finish with Mrs. Nelson, or Gregson’s going to give her case to John.”

Draco winced. “God, not that tosser. Well… all right, pass over the consent forms.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll proof while you work on the contract. Come on, chop-chop. We’ll finish much quicker if we work together.”

“Draco…” Harry started, gently, felt this thing in his chest go tight and tender. “It’s half five. You should go home. Your cat will miss you.”

“Whisker’s a dog, as you well know, you wanker,” Draco smiled sweetly, falling into the chair across from him. “He’ll be fine, my neighbour’s watching him. Now, hand me the papers.” He sent a hand forward, waiting, imperiously, for Harry to obey, which of course he did. Didn’t have much of the resisting part of his brain wired right, when it came to Draco.

“Fine. But you’re leaving by six.”

“Half six, and so are you.” Draco smoothened the papers and stole a pen from Harry’s cup. “Aha, see! Already found a typo. Truly, you should fire your secretary.”

“Not in a million years,” Harry smiled, and allowed himself to sink back in the contract, his chest a little lighter.

#Drarry fic #Office au office au!#Soft #Somewhere around 1.5k #Rockingrobin69

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hollowed-theory-hall · 22 days

Text

Justice for Barty Crouch Jr: Part 1/2

(Part 2)

This is a bit of a weird theory, and I'll confess, some of the evidence is not all that conclusive. But I didn't see anyone mention anything about this anywhere else...

When I reread the books recently, I noticed I really liked Mad-Eye Moody in Goblet of Fire. Moody in the fourth book is actually one of my favorite characters, he makes the top 10. But then I reached Order of the Phoenix and realized (again) that I hate Moody's guts.

The only conclusion I could draw was that I really liked Barty Crouch Jr. because, Moody in book 4, wasn't really Moody. So, I went back to Goblet of Fire to try and find out who Barty is, how his behavior as Moody, differed from the real deal in the later books, and why I liked him when I didn't like the real Moody.

And let's just say, I came to some interesting conclusions...

This post ended up being pretty long, so I've divided it up into two. But my thesis is:

Barty was a Death eater, but he didn't torture the Longbottoms.

He didn't want Harry to be hurt during the Tornoment and actually cared about him.

And I can prove it!

Reasons for Doubt

When reviewing all the scenes of Barty Jr, it was made clear pretty quickly that Barty wasn't really trying to fool anyone. Actually, he seemed to be actively sabotaging himself.

“Maybe someone’s hoping Potter is going to die for it,” said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl. An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, “Moody, old man ... what a thing to say!” “We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn’t discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime,” said Karkaroff loudly. “Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.”

(Goblet of Fire, page 279)

From the very beginning, Barty is outright telling everyone what happened. And exactly how:

“Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!” said Moody. “It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament. ... I’m guessing they submitted Potter’s name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category. ...” “You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody,” said Karkaroff coldly, “and a very ingenious theory it is — though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you’ll understand if we don’t take you entirely seriously. ...”

(Goblet of Fire, pages 279-280)

He goes as far as to explain how he got Harry into the tournament. To the point even Karkaroff thinks it's strange Moody would bother putting so much thought into it. And he's right, it is super strange.

Barty shouldn't be explaining that to the people he is supposedly trying to deceive. It's so incredibly revealing and counterproductive. And it's not that Barty is stupid, he shows he is both intelligent and competent to a degree it's clear that if he really wanted to not be discovered he wouldn't be (he transfigured his father's corpse to a bone and buried it in the forest when he didn't wish to be found out, clearly, he can get away with murder when he wants to). So why all of this? Why try so hard to tell them exactly what's going on? Why is he showing his hand?

It won't be out of character for Moody to not mention all of it. He could not go into as much detail easily. But, he chooses to go into detail about the very method he used to get Harry chosen for the tournament. Like he's trying to get himself caught.

“So . . . whoever conjured the Dark Mark . . .” said Hermione slowly, “were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?” “Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione,” said Mr. Weasley. “But I’ll tell you this . . . it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I’d be very surprised if the person who did it hadn’t been a Death Eater once, even if they’re not now. . . .

(Goblet of Fire, page 143)

This is an earlier note from Hermione, and I agree with her 100%. The goal of Barty when casting the Dark Mark isn't clear. We know he is a marked Death Eater, but so are Regulus and Snape. We know not all Death Eaters agreed with everything they did, and some of them had regrets. And it's kind of interesting this idea that Barty cast the Dark Mark to scare the attackers off was planted this early in the book.

“What — what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air. “Teaching,” said Moody. “Teach — Moody, is that a student?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms. “Yep,” said Moody.

(Goblet of Fire, page 206)

I wanted to add this scene just because of the "yep" as his response to McGonagall, but this entire conversation, actually is noteworthy. Why? Well, the mannerism.

Moody whom we meet in book 5 and onwards doesn't speak or act like this. The mannerisms and speech patterns we see in this conversation are 100% Barty Crouch Jr. And this isn't the only scene in which his own mannerisms peek through because he isn't putting much effort into his act.

Here are some examples of how Moody talks in book 5, for comparison:

“Well, congratulations,” said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, “authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you. . . .”

(Order of the Pheonix, page 169)

“Yeah, well,” said Moody, “there’s something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.” “Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning,” whispered Mrs. Weasley. “ ’Course he’s worried,” growled Moody. “The boy’s seeing things from inside You-Know-Who’s snake. . . . Obviously, Potter doesn’t realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who’s possessing him —”

(Order of the Pheonix, page 491)

He's more gruff, more blunt, more paranoid. He isn't as gentle with Harry and Ron as Barty was (I'll showcase some of these moments later). And he shows full faith in Dumbledore's decisions. Something, Barty doesn't do even when pretending to be Moody.

Some Background

I want to talk about Barty's trial and Azkaban sentence for a bit, along with his relationship with his father as it explains a lot about him as a character...

and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-colored hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief. Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face. “You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law,” he said clearly, “so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous —” “Father,” said the boy with the straw-colored hair. “Father . . . please . . .” “— that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court,” said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son’s voice. “We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror — Frank Longbottom — and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named —” “Father, I didn’t!” shrieked the boy in chains below. “I didn’t, I swear it, Father, don’t send me back to the dementors —”

(Goblet of Fire, page 594)

Does this look like a hardened Death Eater who was happy to torture the Longbottoms and proud to serve his lord?

No, this is a terrified nineteen-year-old kid who was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people.

Barty continues and calls:

“Mother!” screamed the boy below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward. “Mother, stop him, Mother, I didn’t do it, it wasn’t me!”

...

“No! Mother, no! I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t know! Don’t send me there, don’t let him!”

(Goblet of Fire, page 595)

Barty calls this as Bellatrix and the Lestranges are completely calm, taking credit for torturing the Longbottoms. Shouting at Crouch Sr, that Voldemort would return. Barty isn't doing that, he isn't the fanatic Death Eaters, he's a scared boy:

But the boy was trying to fight off the dementors, even though Harry could see their cold, draining power starting to affect him. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and the boy continued to struggle. “I’m your son!” he screamed up at Crouch. “I’m your son!” “You are no son of mine!” bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. “I have no son!” The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed. “Take them away!” Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. “Take them away, and may they rot there!” “Father! Father, I wasn’t involved! No! No! Father, please!”

(Goblet of Fire, page 596)

Barty keeps swearing he wasn't involved and that he didn't do it. that it wasn't him. Compared to how calm the three Lestranges are — it's clear something's up.

I think Barty is telling the truth here. I think he really didn't torture the Longbottoms.

Barty was still acting as a scared boy, just like in his trial, even in front of only dementors and Death Eaters, when there was no need to act. He is described by Sirius when he arrived in Azkaban:

I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can’t have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though . . . they all went quiet in the end . . . except when they shrieked in their sleep. . . .

(Goblet of Fire, page 528)

Barty was young and scared and kept to the same behavior even with no audience to convince — which means it wasn't a lie. It wasn't an act. He really didn't do it.

Sirius talks a little bit about Braty's childhood, his relationship with Crouch Sr and the events leading up to his trial:

“Crouch’s own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who’d managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.”

...

“Nasty little shock for old Barty, I’d imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn’t he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while . . . gotten to know his own son.” He began to wolf down large pieces of bread. “Was his son a Death Eater?” said Harry. “No idea,” said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. “I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I’ve found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I’d bet my life were Death Eaters — but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf.”

...

“...Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy . . . then he sent him straight to Azkaban.”

(Goblet of Fire, page 528)

Barty, at the time of his trial and sentence, wasn't even for sure a Death Eater. He wasn't actually caught doing anything, he was caught with Death Eaters who escaped an Azkaban sentence, which means Death Eaters other than the Lestranges. This means he wasn't even caught on the scene of the Longbottoms torture, but somewhere else and unrelated. It proves even more that Barty was innocent regarding the torture of Frank and Alice.

We know he was a Death Eater because he could cast the Dark Mark. But, I think he wasn't involved in torturing the Longbottoms or anyone, for that matter. I don't think he had it in him before Azkaban and years of torment by his father.

The other thing of note is Crouch's treatment of his son. He was an absent father, caring more for his ministry position than his family. And we see later in GoF that Barty despises his father. I think he disliked him even before being kept under the imperious curse for years. I think that's what pushed Barty to become a Death Eater, it was something to spite his father. To create a distance between them.

His murder of his father during GoF is probably the only murder he wanted a part of. Actually, his father is the only person we know he killed. He didn't get the chance to kill the real Moody, and he never killed anyone else.

Once the boy [Barty Jr] had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him

(Goblet of Fire, page 529)

More from Sirius that strengthens my former point. Barty joined the Death Eaters, in large to go against his father.

This vendetta against his father is the main reason I believe Barty chooses this plan to aid Voldemort. Well, there are some other reasons, but using the tournament is a good way for him to mess with his father's reputation. That same reputation that was more important to him than his own son.

As a Teacher and Mentor

A lot of fans like to say Remus Lupin was the best DADA teacher Harry had, I'd actually argue it was Moody (aka Barty). I'm saying that because Barty-as-Moody was the one who taught Harry many of the techniques and approaches he keeps going back to in the books.

The constant vigilance that saves him multiple times is from Barty, not the real Moody.

His resistance to the imperious curse.

When Harry quotes Moody in his head under certain situations for the advice he was given, it's not advice from the real Moody but from Barty:

He raised the cup to his lips and then, just as suddenly, lowered it. One of the horrible painted kittens behind Umbridge had great round blue eyes just like Mad-Eye Moody’s magical one, and it had just occurred to Harry what Mad-Eye would say if he ever heard that Harry had drunk anything offered by a known enemy

(Order of the Phoenix, page 630)

This above quote is based on Barty's advice in GoF, not the real Moody.

Barty made Harry think of becoming an auror. He was the one who convinced him he could become one:

“You ever thought of a career as an Auror, Potter?” “No,” said Harry, taken aback. “You want to consider it,” said Moody, nodding and looking at Harry thoughtfully. “Yes, indeed . . . and incidentally . . . I’m guessing you weren’t just taking that egg for a walk tonight?” “Er — no,” said Harry, grinning. “I’ve been working out the clue.” Moody winked at him, his magical eye going haywire again. “Nothing like a nighttime stroll to give you ideas, Potter. . . . See you in the morning. . . .”

(Goblet of Fire, pages 477-478)

Barty did more for Harry's self-esteem than any other teacher.

“Now, that’s more like it!” growled Moody’s voice, and suddenly, Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to double. “Look at that, you lot ... Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We’ll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention — watch his eyes, that’s where you see it — very good, Potter, very good indeed! They’ll have trouble controlling you!”

(Goblet of Fire, page 232)

In the above scene, Barty is delighted by Harry's resistance of the imperious. He is so proud and fond. I already mentioned and will continue showing how Barty did very little acting when he pretended to be Moody, as such, I don't think he's pretending here either. I think he actually is delighted.

And, I mean, think about it, why would a servant loyal to Voldemort teach Harry Potter how to resist the imperius? Why would he keep practicing with him throughout the year to make sure he was good at it? Why make sure Harry knows people would want to control him and he should make it hard for them?

The only conclusion I can come to is that he is trying to help Harry from a limited position. Why and How will be discussed later.

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse. “Neville?” Hermione said gently. “Neville, what — ?” But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard. “It’s all right, sonny,” he said to Neville. “Why don’t you come up to my office? Come on . . . we can have a cup of tea. ...” Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry. “You all right, are you, Potter?” “Yes,” said Harry, almost defiantly. Moody’s blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, “You’ve got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you’ve got to know. No point pretending ... well ... come on, Longbottom, I’ve got some books that might interest you.”

(Goblet of Fire, page 219)

And he wasn't only the best DADA teacher for Harry, he was the best teacher for Neville too. He actually helped the son of the Longbottoms he was sent to Azkaban for torturing.

Just, he is the only adult attempting to build up Neville's confidence in himself and his abilities. He encourages Neville's love of Herbology and doesn't ridicule him like most other adults in Neville's life.

Also in the above quote, he clearly wants to tell Harry more. "but you’ve got to know", he says. He is trying to prepare Harry for what's to come. Why would he do that if he wants him dead?

As a Defender of Harry

To continue off Barty actually steps up to defend Harry a lot throughout the book. Even at times, he won't necessarily have to. I mean, the real Moody was never this protective of Harry. Sure, he kept him safe, but he didn't really care for Harry's feelings and self-esteem. Barty did.

“Yeah, that’s Harry Potter,” said a growling voice from behind them. Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster. The color drained from Karkaroff’s face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him

(Goblet of Fire, page 258)

He's scaring Karkaroff and the Durmstrang students away from Harry. The moment before this quote had the Durmstrang students and Karkaroff noticing Harry for the first time as they were leaving the Great Hall on the day they arrived at Hogwarts. They all freeze and stare at Harry, knowing his story and probably about to ask him questions, it's not like Karkaroff would've done anything in the Great Hall. But Moody (Barty) steps in to fend off Harry's discomfort! Hes not even in actual physical danger! Just discomfort!

Harry hesitated. He’d been afraid of this — but he hadn’t told Cedric, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell Moody, that Hagrid had broken the rules. “It’s all right,” said Moody, sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg with a groan. “Cheating’s a traditional part of the Tri-wizard Tournament and always has been.” “I didn’t cheat,” said Harry sharply. “It was — a sort of accident that I found out.” Moody grinned. “I wasn’t accusing you, laddie. I’ve been telling Dumbledore from the start, he can be as high-minded as he likes, but you can bet old Karkaroff and Maxime won’t be. They’ll have told their champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Dumbledore. They’d like to prove he’s only human.”

(Goblet of Fire, pages 343-344)

Moody is glad Harry knows about the dragons, and that could be explained by wanting him to win so he could get to the graveyard (that plan had so many problems in it that I'll get to later) but that isn't the only thing he reveals here. He calls out Dumbledore and his attitude. He shows his dislike towards Dumbledore and his moral flexibility regarding cheating - two things the real Moody will never say. And he would definitely not phrase them like this. This whole conversation — that's all Barty.

Barty, who is actually encouraging Harry and belittling Dumbledore.

That sentence about proving Dumbledore's human, I think Barty shares that feeling. He agrees with the other headmasters on that. Even if he hates Karkaroff's guts.

Because he actually does hate all the Death Eaters that got away genuinely, but not for the same reasons as, let's say, Bellatrix. Bellatrix dislikes them for their lack of loyalty to their lord; Barty hates them out of envy.

Barty was sent to Azkaban for his mark even if he never tortured or killed anyone. And these other Death Eaters, ones he might know killed or tortured, got out scott-free. He was fought alongside them and still sent to the dementors instead of being let go. And he is bitter.

Also, important to remember, that a year in Azkaban and then twelve years under the Imperius curse didn't leave him unscathed. He is not mentally or emotionally well or anything close to it when we meet him in the books.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” said Moody gruffly. “I don’t show favoritism, me. I’m just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is — play to your strengths.” “I haven’t got any,” said Harry, before he could stop himself. “Excuse me,” growled Moody, “you’ve got strengths if I say you’ve got them. Think now. What are you best at?”

(Goblet of Fire, page 344)

I love this scene. Like, this is the first ever time an adult with authority, a teacher, tells Harry how great he is. I talked about the fact Harry is clever and magically powerful but has really low self-esteem. And Barty actually argues with him. Bart (as Moody) makes him believe he could become something. That he has things he is good at.

One of this book's antagonists is the first person to tell Harry he has strengths. That's just all levels of messed up.

It shows Barty Crouch Jr actually does more for Harry's emotional well-being than any other professor he had. More than McGonagall, more than Lupin. Actually, the only adult who tries to help Harry with more care than Barty, is Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. It's just insane that Barty, a Death Eater, actually understood Harry and went out of his way to help with his insecurities and make him comfortable more than Molly Weasley did.

Now, let's talk about the Farret Incident because it's interesting too. both regarding his defense of Harry and his hatred of the Death Eaters that got away.

“I don’t think so!” roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. “I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. ...”

(Goblet of Fire, page 205)

Barty steps in to defend Harry because he does it a lot. It's why I placed this moment in this section. One would expect someone who wants Harry to die to not mind if he was cursed a bit, it's not like Draco was about to kill him, but no, he defends him even when no one sees him there.

But specifically in this incident, I want to mention how personal he gets about this. Barty's disdain towards the Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban is very real and very dangerous to Draco. He's furious they didn't need to spend a year in hell on earth only to then be enslaved by a curse for 12 years by their father who kept them like a dirty secret in the basement.

As I mentioned above, I don't think Barty is mentally sound, but I think he genuinely cares about Harry and didn't torture the Longbottoms.

In the next post, I go through the final scene of Barty in the book, and explain the whole plan Barty had.

Part 2 >>

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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 1 year

Text

“It looks like you’re in trouble there. Can I help?”

Tom has had the unfortunate displeasure of ending up in a few uncomfortable situations throughout his life. Needless to say, he’d rather these situations stay between him, himself, and he.

However, that is not always the case.

He can remember his first year and how he sank into the small marsh area in the corner of the common room with startling clarity. It did not matter that it was nearly a rite of passage to fall prey to the trick carpet hiding the deceptively deep water. His embarrassment burnt like a cauldron fire. And the giggling of his schoolmates still grates in the dark when his eyes have shut, and he tries to drift off to sleep.

Tom can even remember that time Amy Benson was dared to kiss him. How he’d flinched so badly, his head reared up and back with force strong enough to make her nose bleed. How she cried and cried and cried, dripped blood everywhere, and rubbed her arm harshly across her lips. Tom can hear her shouts, “So gross! Whatta monster!” as loud as the morning rain when it pelts against his room’s window panes at the orphanage.

More recently, Tom remembers the harsh face of rejection. So much like his own… but he feels the sting of that soothing with time, and with each turn of the family ring he wears with vicious pride.

And today, when Tom decided to patrol the castle’s upper levels once curfew set, he hoped his small and insignificant blunder would stay just that: his.

And yet.

“Seriously, are you alright down there?”

Tom looks up, a frown tugging at his lips and a glare sharp enough to cut. “Clearly,” he starts, sarcasm scathing, “I’ve never been better, Potter.”

And Harry Potter merely stands there, hands on his knees, smiles his stupid crooked smile and cocks a brow. “Oh? So I can go then?”

Tom hates him. Tom hates him enough to curse him. Maybe even curse him dead. “Yes. I don’t need your help,” and knowing you, you’ll just make everything worse, Tom doesn’t say.

But he’s almost confident that’ll be the case. Potter has an odd habit of ending up in odder places and dealing with the oddest circumstances. Though, even Tom can recognise that he has a natural talent for wiggling his way out of them. Abraxas has a running gag, keeping a ‘comprehensive list’ of situations the new transfer student has wound up in and a matching list of dramatic and ridiculous things he thinks Potter will do next.

Surprisingly, Potter has managed to cross three things off that list.

Most of Slytherin agrees it’s his Gryffindor nature, and the red tie certainly contributes to that argument. But there have been moments. Quiet and scarcely there, barely under the surface, something that flickers when Tom catches Potter at just the right instant, just the right angle… that has Tom wondering.

Even now, when Tom blinks, he swears the stripes on Potter’s undone tie, thrown carelessly over one shoulder and dangling down as he looks over Tom, is a green that rivals his eyes.

“Come on, Riddle. You can’t mean that.” Potter huffs, exasperated, “I mean, look at you.”

Ah, yes. Tom can admit that falling off the astronomy tower and dropping his wand in his panic to grab the ledge was not something he’d anticipated.

That didn’t mean Potter had to rub it in.

“I don’t see a problem,” Tom grits out. Just go away, his eyes scream. As though Potter is smart enough to know legilimancy, laughable. Please. He’s hardly aware enough to pick up common social cues.

Potter lowers further, squatting on his haunches. His hand reaches out and traces the tower’s edge like he can’t help himself, like flirting with danger. “So this was part of your plans this evening? You decided to run your rounds and thought, Goodness! Do you know what would be lovely? A nice little hop off the astronomy tower!”

“Was that irritating voice meant to be an impression of me?”

“Not to you’re liking? That’s a shame; I’ve been practising since I was twelve.”

Tom rolls his eyes so hard he sees spots. “You didn’t know me when you were twelve.”

Potter just keeps smiling.

Tom snaps, “What exactly is it that you want?”

“I already told you. It looks like you’re in trouble, I happen to be an expert on trouble, and I’m offering you help,” Potter says and crawls forward until he can comfortably stretch his arm down to Tom.

And Potter, with his stupid quidditch body and toned arms, could probably lift Tom up easily. It just infuriates him more. “I would rather fall.”

“And die?” Potter asks. There’s something off about his smile when he says it. Something that sends a chill down Tom’s spine.

It’s said with a little too much knowing for Tom’s taste.

His disquiet lingers long enough for Potter to speak up again, “What were you doing up here anyway?”

Given the placement and fullness of the moon and the fact they are nearing the dawn of Capricorn’s sky, Tom thinks it rather obvious what he is attempting to do at the top of the astronomy tower. Admittedly, rituals of this nature may be a league above anything Potter is aware or tolerant of, so maybe obvious is too generous an assumption.

Regardless, it’s not something Tom is going to brag about. “Prefect rounds.”

Potter actually laughs in Tom’s face, “Yeah, right. And I’m just here to gaze at the pretty little stars!”

Tom’s eyes narrow, “And what is it that you are doing here, Potter?”

Potter grins a wide closed mouth thing. “Stalking you, of course, Riddle.” Tom frowns, unamused, as Potter carries on, “It’s one of my favourite pastimes, foiling your small schemes.”

And for a moment, Tom almost rolls his eyes again, annoyed and fed up with Potter’s antics and this ridiculous position he’s found himself in. But there’s something about the tone of Potter’s voice, the way he says it so carelessly, harmlessly, that has the hair on Tom’s neck standing straight up. Like a warning, like danger.

With an outside awareness, Tom carefully reviews memory after memory of his recent string of (he hesitates to use the word, but) failures. How one too many times this past week something has gotten in the way of his budding connections with purebloods, or his ability to meet with his knights, or his evening strolls through Ravenclaw territory to sweet talk the Grey Lady into revealing the hiding place of Ravenclaw’s lost Diadem.

It startles Tom to realise that these strange and unaccounted-for mishaps all have one thing in common: Harry Potter.

Potter, who has recently taken it upon himself to spur on cross-house relations. Encouraging people of all ilk to get along even if it means dragging them into conversations (or casual quidditch matches) kicking and screaming. Thus causing Tom’s carefully planned run-ins with certain influential and affluential children of ministry officials and the scared twenty-eight alike to miraculously not be on their habitual routes that Tom has spent years learning.

Potter, who was responsible for the prank flooding in the room Tom’s knights used to meet. His insistent apologies profused left and right— not for the flooding itself, but because he flooded the wrong room. Tom gave it a pass at the time because they were so close to the Gobstones Club, but what if it was intentional all along?

Potter, who was often seen prowling around the fifth and fourth floors due to his frequent visits to the hospital tower. He had struck an unlikely friendship with the normally timid Grey Lady, and Tom had found them in soft blue evening light, Potter’s form stark through the Grey Lady’s transparent hovering, talking quietly a few handfuls of times. And how has Tom not realised all of this sooner?

It’s not like Potter is trying to be subtle, after all.

Suddenly, Tom feels very wary. “Potter…you wouldn’t have anything to do with my current predicament, would you?”

“I would never come up here an hour before you and cast aguamenti on the stone to let the naturally brisk December evening work its wonders and produce a nearly invisible sheet of ice for you to slip on, Riddle. And I’m offended you’d ask,” Potter deadpans.

Tom feels his eye twitch. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You really need a new hobby, Riddle.” Now Potter is the one rolling his eyes. “Just take my hand, and I’ll help you up.”

Tom scoffs, “You orchestrated my near catastrophic fall, and you expect me to just trust you’ll not drop me?”

Potter raises a brow, looks left, looks right, and back to Tom. “I’m sorry. Did you have any other way out of this? Because from the looks of things, you’re pretty fucked. And I don’t believe I have to remind you that it’s Christmas Hols, so no one is likely to check on the tower till after the break. Which means you could be here for days.”

Tom, for a moment, can’t find the words. He just stares in open mouth horror at Potter. “You… how did you sort Gryffindor?”

“I asked,” Potter smiles like that absolutely ridiculous answer is something very clever. For all Tom knows, it probably is.

Insanely, all Tom can think about is how Abraxas would be able to cross attempted murder off his comprehensive list.

Tom knows he doesn’t have the time nor energy to mull over Potter’s offer of help any longer but does so anyway just to watch Potter shake his head in growing disbelief. Then he sighs and says, “Fine,” with much reluctance.

Potter reaches down, stretching as far as possible, and Tom makes the risky decision to drop hold of the ledge with one of his hands. He wills himself to ignore the painful burn of the reach and the paranoid feeling of numbness from the cold on his remaining grip and meets Potter halfway. Their hands touch, and Tom feels an instant relief.

The relief is short-lived.

“Swear to me,” Potter starts, not pulling Tom up, “Riddle, swear to me right now that you’ll never make another Horcrux again.”

Tom rears back in shock, the jerked motion tugging harshly on Potter’s hold. He sees Potter’s brow furrow at the pain, no doubt, and feels vicious satisfaction through the raging scream echoing loudly in Tom’s very being.

“What?” Tom hisses, and it dawns on him quickly that this had been Potter’s goal all along. Potter wasn’t some annoying idiot attempting to be a thorn in Tom’s side; he was a Slytherin in Gryffindor’s skin, plotting and crafting and scheming his way to tonight, to this moment. To Tom’s ruining.

“I know I’m too late for the others,” Potter grimaces, and his displeasure is an ugly taut thing that Tom wants to see and cause a hundred times over. “But I can stop any more you’ve planned. I can at least do this much.”

Tom feels a bubble of laughter building and is helpless when it bursts hysterically and loudly in the quiet winter night. “Potter, if you know oh so much about my supposed Horcruxes, then you know what they do. You know what they’re for.” Tom deliberately loosens his hold and feels a rush of heady elation at the panic in Potter’s eyes, at the sudden tighter grip he holds Tom with.

“You know that if I fall, I’ll just come back.”

Potter nearly snarls, his lips pulling back to show straight white teeth. Tom’s sure their bite is as crushing as his bark. “Yeah, sure, Riddle. And you’ll just be a wraith or whatever until you somehow get a new body.” Tom tuts, disappointed and wildly pleased that Potter had clearly done his research. “Call me crazy, but I doubt your current little followers have enough wits about them to build you a whole new body from scratch. And I doubt you’ve had the time to actually prepare such a failsafe yourself while stuck at Hogwarts most of the year and at your Orphanage for the rest.”

It’s the most Potter has ever said to him, Tom thinks, and it’s dizzying. But he isn’t done, “I’d say that’s plenty of time, wouldn’t you, to find your other Horcruxes and make sure you can never come back.”

Potter says this like a promise. Like it would be far too easy. Tom’s terrified. But, madly, a blistering heat crawls up his neck and to his cheeks, pushing through all of his coursing fear—or worse yet, instigated by it—and his stomach lurches like a swarm have taken home there; he knows it’s not from his anger.

With a dry mouth and eyes only for the wild, determined thing clutching his hand for dear life, Tom nods. “I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, vow to you, Harry Potter, to never make another Horcrux again.”

And when Potter promptly lifts Tom up and back into the tower, safely and gently, and shortly abandons him to its stark winter quiet, he makes another vow. Just to himself.

You will be mine, Harry Potter.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #pov: tom #my fic #2.2k words #fic: like a parasite (kill my butterflies)#hi hello #i'm back so soon #this one is for racfoam because you are far too kind

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bridenore · 5 months

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HD BDSM fic recs

Here are a few BDSM fic recs. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Another Mask Behind You by @letteredlettered [116k]

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)

Breaking The Line by @kedavranox [19k]

Draco was a Dom for hire. Harry was his best client. But Harry disappeared and now Draco’s retired. Draco’s doing fine (he’s even attending parties!) but who should show up to the latest BDSM shindig, but Harry Potter himself? Can Draco play with his ex-client without breaking the line?

Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid [169k]

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he’s become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect. Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

Give Me Sweet Oblivion by @tryslora [4k]

Italy seems like a long way to go to keep a fetish secret. But the club is exclusive, and the far away location, and Muggle nature, promises anonymity from Wizarding Britain. The only problem is that sometimes, great minds think alike.

Hades Paradox by Romaine [32k]

For reasons unknown to most, Draco Malfoy came to Hogwarts soon after the battle and for five years had never left its premises. Auror Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts to deal with his psychological daemons, but soon realises Professor Draco Malfoy has his own magical and physical daemons to deal with. However, much to Harry’s surprise, Draco is coping well with help from the person Harry aspires to be.

The Hand That Feeds You by @gracerene09 [17k]

Harry needs something only Draco can provide.

Moneymaker by @dictacontrion [16k]

As a top trader, Draco has power and money, suits and cars, houses and good champagne - everything a person could want. So when Auror Potter comes looking for help, Draco can’t think of anything that might persuade him to lend a hand. Well…maybe one thing.

Take My Pure (Wash It All Away) by peachydreamxx [16k]

The only thing Draco is good at is using his mouth. The only thing Harry Potter is good at is everything, apparently. (The one where both of them are total sluts for each other and they don't care who knows it)

The Unspeakable by @the-sinking-ship [24k]

Healer Draco Malfoy took the job at the International Department of Mysteries for the paycheck and the prestige. But what he got was Unspeakable Harry Potter and the most fascinating curse he’d ever seen.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #theme rec

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warmerthanhotcoco · 1 year

Text

hold me

You are Draco’s Potions partner. And Charms partner. Blaise has been your friend since first year at Diagon Alley, and you’d swapped your seats with his so he could flirt with that cute Ravenclaw. And as unlikely as it appeared to the others, you and Draco grew to be as close as Dean and Seamus were. If that wasn’t ‘friends’, what was?

Until Harry hits Draco with Snape's curse and you find yourself in tormenting pain, chest ablaze... and when Harry's back in the common room and Snape has dealt with Draco's bleeding, your pain fades.

One word stuck in your head. "Soulmates."

Tags: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Blaise Zabini as a bestie, Gryffindor Reader, Gryffindor/Slytherin, BAMF Reader, BAMF Blaise Zabini, Angst and comfort fluff, Soulmate emotion-sharing, Confessions (?), First Kiss, Injured Draco Malfoy is a Sweetheart, Hogwarts Hospital Wing dates, because Blaise Zabini is Wingman™️

Your chest ached. Burnt. The pain was a fire, spreading fast, consuming your breath. You gasped for air, slamming the book shut and looking around at the common room. The rest of the Gryffindors were simply chilling around, all fun and laughter, some — like Hermione seated beside you — seriously studying. You dropped your quill. There was no way you could do homework when you were running out of air—

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Dean called from across the carpet where your books and notes were strewn. Your arm knocked over an ink bottle as you scrambled to the nearest window, shoving it open and sticking half your body out, wheezing, gasping.

“Y/n! What is it?” Hermione jumped to her feet, a steady hand stroking your back.

“Oi, you good? Is the fire too much?” Seamus, seated cross-legged near the fireplace, asked, already picking up her wand.

You flailed your hands, waving the question off. “No, not that.” You knew that much. This wasn’t… just an asthma attack or whatever your muggle mother called it. Seriously, it couldn’t be a heart attack? What the hell was going on?

SLAM!

“Merlin’s beard, Harry!”

“That’s a door you nincompoop, not a Slytherin tie,” one of the older Gryffindors scoffed at Harry Potter as he stomped into the common room. Hair disheveled, eyes wild with panic, clothes crumpled but there was nothing new in that… blood splattered here and there…

“Harry?” Hermione called, hand still stroking your back. “What on earth?”

“You look like you got back from a murder, mate,” Ron Weasley laughed nervously. “…Did you?”

“Almost,” Harry mumbled, flopping down on the carpet and snatching Ron’s chocolate frog.

“Hey!”

“Water.”

Parvati passed a bottle.

“Thanks. What’s up with y/n?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head.

“… You gonna tell us or are we gonna have to hear from the papers?”

“I don’t know.” Was all he said before rushing away from the whispers and the eyes, into his dorm. Something about the fear in his eyes made you realise… The bastard did something. Again.

You wondered if it was whatever he did that made you this… tormented. Because sometime after he walked in, the pain stopped.

“Good,” you whispered to yourself, nodding your thanks to Hermione and Parvati (who offered water) before going back to work. No heart attack was worth getting scolded by McGonagall.

Only the next morning did you find out about the Sectumsempra.

The breakfast tables’ chatter was interrupted with an odd hush. And of course, where there was gossip — there was no Harry Potter in sight.

“He’s not even here.”

“Of course he isn’t, he’s probably guilty.”

“OR being cursed to oblivion by Snape—“

“Oh no no, I heard the Gryffindors saying he’s still asleep. Probably another You-Know-Who nightmare.”

“Will you guys cut it out already, I want to read this!”

You shook your head at the yellow and blue tables before moving over to your own. Before sitting down, you made sure to peek over at the green one as you do every morning. You already waved and winked out of habit before noticing the seat you were smiling at was… empty.

And the others nearby were not happy about it.

“Oh good morning y/n,” Dean greeted. “Y/n? Where are you going?”

You ditched your house, running over to the two Slytherins shooting daggers at her. “Nott. Parkinson. What is it?”

“Why don’t you go ask your noble house-hero?” Theodore Nott snapped.

“Yeah, go ask the rascal how he casually murdered a student,” Parkinson scoffed.

“…” What? Murdered? Who? Surely not—

“Now that’s dramatic, Pansy,” Daphne Greengrass shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re this concerned, y/n, but I guess you’re his friend now,” she sighed.

“I am,” you nodded, ignoring Pansy’s glare. “Where is he? And where’s Zabini?”

“Draco’s in the hospital wing. Blaise is with him, trying to force potion down that stubborn idiot’s throat.”

Astoria Greengrass walked over to the table lazily, having just woken up. “Down who’s throa— Woah! Watch it!” She jumped back when a gust of red robes dashed past her and over to the Gryffindor table.

You slammed a hand on the table, sending Ron’s plate of chicken flying. Lavender Brown caught it and gave it back to him but you didn’t have time to watch it all. “What in Godric’s name did Harry do this time?” you grumbled, picking up your cloak and bag.

Hermione gripped your shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“To the hospital wing, of course.” One word kept whirring through your head as you recalled the weird pain from yesterday. Soulmates.

“…Y/n…”

“Don’t you start, Granger.”

“Why would you care? He calls us mudbloods!”

“Maybe you should stop to think about a person before judging them on one damn word,” you snapped back, running out the door and down the hallways.

Never had Madam Promfey’s glare been madder than when you literally crashed through the giant doors. “I’m so sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I—”

“Where are you wounded?”

“…erm. No, I came to see Draco Malfoy.”

“…” Madam Pomfrey’s jaw nearly dropped, looking you up and down to check if your Gryffindor robes were a hoax. One eyebrow raised, she asked, “If you’re here to make him feel worse then by all means, get out, Miss y/l/n.”

“Madam Pomfrey, please. He’s my friend. I need to see him.”

The Slytherin matron blinked twice, thrice, before nodding slowly. “I see,” she mumbled, as though she understood something you didn’t.

And maybe she did.

“There’s nobody else around today, Mr Zabini and Mr Malfoy are over on the left side. I only allow one to remain by his side for more than ten minutes so…”

“I know.”

She nodded and walked away into her own part of the wing, letting you stumble over towards where you could see Zabini’s frame in the distance. “Zabini! Is he asleep?”

“Well if you shout like that of course he won’t be,” Blaise laughed, waving. “Look at you.”

“An absolute mess,” a hoarse voice croaked from behind him.

You dropped your bag and cloak on the next bed, made a mental note to Scourgify the bed before leaving, and walked to the other side of Draco’s bed. “Malfoy.”

“Y/l/n. What happened to you?”

“I think that’s my question.”

“No seriously, look at you!” Blaise snorted. “You look like a Niffler that got its gold snatched.”

You patted your uniform down, tucked your braid away before reaching over to the bag. “I got you this. Dunno if you can drink any but…” you held out a mug of Butterbeer.

Draco shook his head in silence, despite the sparkle in his eyes.

“If you drink that Butterbeer now, I’m gonna strangle the potion into you as well,” Blaise glared.

“I didn’t say I’ll drink it.” Draco pointed to the bedside table so you kept the mug there, muttering a charm to seal it shut for now. “Thank you.”

“What on earth happened?” You asked, your eyes finally catching onto the gashes on the sides of his neck, face and shoulders: the rest of him covered in hospital pyjamas and blankets. “I mean I heard much of it from the chatter in the breakfast hall but…”

“Stupid Potter,” Draco mumbled, turning his head away, too tired to explain.

Blaise took over. “Potter found him in the bathrooms, and attacked. For no reason. Sectumsempra. It’s a lacerating curse, according to Snape’s explanation to Poppy.”

“A lacerating cu—” you bit your tongue, plopping down on the bedside, one leg crossed under you. “He’s a bloody murderer!”

“Literally. Draco would have bled to death if Snape hadn’t found him by some odd stroke of luck,” Blaise shook his head, sitting down on the chair.

“I’ll kill him.”

“If anybody beats the Dark Lord to it, it’ll be you feisty little one for sure,” Blaise burst into laughter.

“I’m not joking! I heard the Hufflepuffs screeching he used a spell supposedly aimed for enemies. If Harry doesn’t know to distinguish between the level of enmity of a rival Slytherin STUDENT and goddamned YouKnowWho… I’ll teach him a bit,” you grinned. “Not a curse… I’m not that good. But there’s trickier hexes that last long enough.”

“Weasley twins’ wisdom?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, laughing with him. It was when your hands resting on the sheets moved and hit Draco’s wounded arm that you noticed. He hissed and you apologised automatically, before even seeing the wound showing through the lifted sleeve. “…What the—” you grabbed his arm and laid it on your lap, pulling back the sleeve.

A long, deep gash glowed dark red on his forearm, cutting right through a horrid black Dark Mark.

Draco tugged his arm away at your gasp. “What? I thought you’d have seen it at Potions.”

“Not the Mark you idiot, I don’t care about that.”

“…”

“This isn’t a mere Sectumsempra cut… is it? Why didn’t you tell Madam Pom—”

“...It’s not a cut Potter made.”

You gulped hard, breath stilling for a moment. “Draco… You didn’t have to do that.”

When he opened his mouth to say some insane complaint about being a Death Eater, you wagged your wand threateningly to silence him. “Some stupid dark sorcerer who can’t even kill a teenager that barely knows crap about offensive spells? He’s not worth fighting for or supporting, sure, but he’s definitely not worth torturing yourSELF out of guilt! Now you're being dumber than Snake-Man!”

“Snake-Man?” Blaise snorted.

“Oh it’s a term Dean and I came up with. Adds a bit of fun to the lousy old You-Know-Who,” you mocked, delighted to see Draco actually grinning from it all. “You, mister, better quit sulking around and hurting yourself. Snake-Man and everything he does is… wrong. But you’re a teenager, we all are! It’s not like any of us have a choice here. It’s stupid, all of this but… it’s not worth this,” you ended, patting his wrist lightly.

Blaise watched the bare hint of a thank you in Draco's eyes and so, slowly slipped out. “Be right back,” he left with a wink. You sat there on the bed, recounting silly incidents in Potions class from yesterday, when he hadn’t been around. Seamus blowing up the cauldron, Ron nearly squirting blueberry juice in Slughorn’s face… you were glad to see him this relaxed.

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat from behind you. “I’m afraid Mr Zabini… had something to attend to. Miss y/l/n, you don’t mind staying here for a while?”

“Oh,” you bit your cheek guessing what Blaise did. Yet again, being the loyal wingman-bestie. “I think I can stay here for the rest of the day, Hermione would let the teachers know on my behalf.”

“Mr Zabini need not return?” Pomfrey smiled. “Understood,” she nodded, pulling the curtains close. “Oh, no funny business, the two of you.”

“M-Madam Pomfrey!” Draco nearly shrieked when she walked away laughing.

“…”

“…So.”

“You sure it’s alright to skip classes?”

“Meh, it’s just for a day. I’ll get the notes so we could go somewhere quiet and maybe write together. Only maybe! O-Only if you’d want to—”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

You beamed at him, and he weakly smiled back. “Hey, that potion…”

Draco opened his mouth without a word. You blinked for a few seconds before laughing “What are you, a baby?”

“Oh come on, just do it.”

And you did. One spoon of potion, before quickly feeding a spoon of Butterbeer too. “How’s that?”

“I think I could drink that entire bottle and mug now,” he grinned. “As long as it’s you feeding.”

“Merlin, aren’t you a fli—“ Peck, he cut you off with one chaste kiss. “Wha- What was that for!”

“The potion, love.” His face was aglow with a sharp smirk, smugly reaching up pat your cheek. “You see, I flirt to divert my mind from the sourness. I’m sure you hardly hated that, pretty gi— Mmph!”

“And that’s called sweet revenge,” you shoved his face with potion. When he had swallowed it all and wiped his mouth, you held up the Butterbeer mug. “Drink up.”

Having downed the drink, he sat up and watched in silence while you made him comfortable, stuffing a pillow to his back and pulling up the sheets. When you looked up, you saw him smiling softly, a stark contrast from the stiff and icy Slytherin Prince he often was. “What?”

“You’re cute.”

“What- Where did that come from?”

“Just thought of it. Blaise once said: When I say cute girls, I mean caring and pretty. Now I know.”

“When will you stop…?” you grumbled feeling your cheeks and ears were on fire. He laughed, pulling you close enough for you to rest your head against him. “Draco?”

“Hold me.” It was a quiet whisper, almost fragile.

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him loosely, aware of the countless wounds. “I vow to hex Harry's brains out. But you… Promise you won’t do something like that again?”

He nodded into your hair, breathing softly until the potion worked and he fell asleep right in your arms.

#draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #Draco Malfoy x y/n #Hogwarts hospital wing dates #Poppy Pomfrey #Blaise Zabini #soulmates #first kiss #Hogwarts fluff #comfort fluff #Blaise and Poppy are good wingpeople #harry potter #hogwarts

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saintsenara · 6 months

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Hi! for the Snape asks game I propose you 1, 4, 45, 46, 48 and 49 . If that's too much you can cut it and keep only the ones you find interesting :))

thank you very much for the ask, @big-scary-bird! all of these were interesting :)

also tagging @bronzeagepizzeria here, since you asked the exact same sequence of questions.

[snape ask game here]

1. do you have a snOTP? what is it?

in an extremely cultured move… it’s severus snape/lord voldemort. i just think they belong together! once they move past the whole ‘using nagini to rip your throat out’ thing…

voldemort is obviously incredibly fond of snape - not only because he must recognise so much of himself in him (feral working-class children with muggle names and disappointing dads need to stick together, after all), but because they have a shared attitude towards magic, the defining force in both of their lives.

voldemort describes himself in goblet of fire as someone who dabbles in creating potions, we know he’s a great inventor of spells, and we - of course - know that he’s someone who’s experimented deeply with all sorts of magic, macabre or otherwise. in this, he understands snape’s attitude towards magic exactly - it’s clear in canon that one of the tensions between snape and dumbledore prior to half-blood prince is that dumbledore cannot countenance someone having even a theoretical interest in dark magic. but snape clearly does, even as his willingness to use that magic to harm and control disappears.

voldemort can appreciate that - it’s what he’s talking about when he tells harry that there is no good and evil, only power - and i can very easily picture the two of them ending up in bed together the first time when a discussion about potions theory got out of hand. you can decide for yourself if voldemort is still hot at this scenario…

it’s also clear from canon that voldemort is one of the few people in snape’s life who takes an active interest in improving it - snape must become a death eater because voldemort offers him a chance to transcend the restrictive class structure which rips opportunities away from poor half-bloods unless they have a slughorn-esque patron - which i think is an aspect of his personality which is too often overlooked.

plus - the adult snape clearly models how he speaks and comports himself on voldemort (seriously, they have near-identical speech patterns, they get a lot of the same movement and dialogue descriptors), which is cute. maybe the dark lord took him shopping for his first set of bat-like robes. (he did - he was getting sick of the brown corduroy bell-bottoms which snape was obsessed with in the seventies.)

and - of course - the reason that snape is the only death eater to whom voldemort teaches the principle of unaided flight is because they were going on lots of romantic midnight swoopings over the countryside. i love that for them.

4. do you think snape remained a virgin?

i don’t think it matters either way, but i think it is worth interrogating why saying no to this question often provokes the response that, if snape had slept around, then his love for lily would no longer be as profound or legitimate as it would have if he’d never had anyone else since he couldn’t have her.

the harry potter fandom has a real issue with conflating sex and love [just see any discussion of whether voldemort actually slept with bellatrix, even though it’s canon that he did] and with having slightly puritanical views on people having meaningless sex for no reason other than the fact that they enjoy it [it feels like every time i see a character written as promiscuous in something, it’s always because they have a reason™, usually a traumatic one, rather than because fucking is fun]. but indulging in sex for physical pleasure and pleasure alone does not make you any less capable of being stalwartly committed to the mission you took for yourself in honour of the dead love of your life. it’s just sex.

so no, i don’t think snape remained a virgin. all teachers need to blow off steam every once in a while, and i think he probably had a sequence of one night stands while on the piss in knockturn alley which meant nothing to him. i’m sure his capacity for self-loathing meant that he felt very bad for doing so, but that sounds like a him problem.

[as an aside, it also seems to me that the scepticism about whether snape had a casual sex life is also rooted in the fact that he’s canonically unattractive - whereas the fact that many people headcanon sirius, who i think was actually infinitely more likely not to have slept with anyone, since he spent his teen years pining for james and his sowing-wild-oats years in azkaban, as a womaniser is entirely because he’s described as hot - but ugly people get to bone too.]

45. what is your opinion on snape's sexuality?

snape’s a bi disaster.

i am convinced, for example, that his canonical vibe with sirius is caused by the fact that he fancies him - he loves acting up in an attempt to get sirius’ attention (him making excuses to pop into grimmauld place to neg sirius about how he’s spending all his time cleaning… immaculate), despite the fact that the way he behaves around lupin suggests that he ought to be avoidant of him, given their history.

plus, his obvious thing for powerful men is what gets him into trouble in the first place. lord voldemort only had to flutter his eyelashes a couple of times and snape was done for… and when it comes to dumbledore, well you know what they say about men with supremely powerful wands…

46. which of the marauders do you think snape could have gotten along with?

sirius, for the reason outlined above.

48. did you feel that snape was the "good guy" even before the reveal?

answered here - the tl;dr is that i did because i'm built different.

49. do you prefer tall!snape or short!snape?

snape is, canonically, a short king. he’s five-eight and feral and i love that for him.

#snape ask game #severus snape #asks answered

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kbrick · 1 year

Text

Smutty Scenes

Thank you @thehoneybeet for the tag! See honeybeet’s drool-worthy excerpts here.

Rules: pick any ten eleven fics, select some smut or pre-smut dialogue, and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, feel free to share anyway!

In looking through my own smut, I’ve learned some things about myself: 1) my characters talk a lot during sex. like seriously, shut up for a sec you guys; 2) I like writing hate sex; 3) I have a very obvious voyeurism kink that I was utterly unaware of until I created this post 😂

Below the cut, it’s all smut. So stop reading unless you want to read sex stuff.

CW: SEX. Some roughness, nothing too bad.

Running Mate (office sex, wanking, voyeurism)

Draco’s eyes fell to Harry’s prick. “I was stopping by to pick up some papers I’d forgotten,” he said, his eyes flickering back up to meet Harry’s. “And here you are, in my office, alone. And you’ve got your prick out. And you’ve…” he looked over his desk. “Put a post-it over Hermione’s face, have you?”

Harry put his head in his hands and started laughing. “Fucking hell, I can’t look you in the eye,” he managed. “I’m mortified.” He was, too. It should’ve been hot; in a porno, this definitely would’ve been hot, but it was actually the most embarrassing thing he’d ever experienced in his life, and that was really saying something. The post-it took the humiliation to a whole new level, too. He could feel his erection wilting.

He felt Draco’s hands on his, and let him pull them away from his face, and then Draco’s fingertips cupped his chin, tilting his face up slightly. “I want you to keep touching yourself,” Draco said softly. “Let me see.”

Harry swallowed, his throat feeling full. “I – what?”

“First, pull your trousers down. I can hardly see any of you,” Draco said, leaning back once more against the desk.

“I didn’t want to take them off all the way – I was worried I’d be caught –” Harry stammered.

“Little late for that, isn’t it?”

The Matchmaker’s Spell (extra-hate-y hate sex)

Potter grinned down at him, predatory and feral, then licked a stripe over his throat. “Fuck, the taste of you, Malfoy.”

Draco was moving his prick against Potter’s thigh now; too worked up to resist it. “You like it, yeah? Show me.”

Potter nipped at his shoulder, then kissed a line down his chest. Draco leaned back on his hands, his eyes fluttering closed. Potter licked over the head of his prick and he nearly screamed, but then Potter’s mouth was back up near his.

“What the fuck?” Draco cried.

“What the fuck what?” Potter asked, pinching his nipple and kissing his mouth.

“Why’d you fucking stop?”

“Because you don’t want that, remember? You just want it over with.”

“You hateful cocksucker.”

“I haven’t sucked your cock, sweetheart. Because you haven’t asked nicely.”

Draco growled. “You’re mad if you think I’m going to beg you for head.”

“I don’t think that. I know Draco Malfoy doesn’t beg. He doesn’t care enough to beg, or even ask at all,” Potter said, suddenly serious. He kissed Draco again, hard, his tongue hot, and Draco was wrapping his legs around Potter’s waist and rutting up against him, like a whore. Like a fucking whore. He hated Potter so much in that moment that it almost felt like love.

In Free Fall (outdoor sex, blowjob)

“Harry, what if somebody sees?”

“Don’t care,” he says, stroking my cock and gazing up at me. Then, with absolute confidence, he lowers his mouth and licks a firm line along the underside of my shaft.

I feel my hips move, my knees buckle. “Fuck,” I gasp.

“God, you’re gorgeous” he says, his eyes shamelessly meeting mine as he twirls his tongue around the tip, then drags it along my slit, pushing in just a little, making me shudder. “Have I told you?”

“No,” I whisper.

“I’ve thought about doing this for so long. Sucking you. Wanked to thoughts of it for as long as I can remember.”

I press a hand over my mouth and moan behind it, and he takes me down to the root, his nose pressing against my stomach. He bobs up and down on me for a moment, his cheeks hollowed out, his tongue pressing up against the underside of my cock, and he’s much too good at this, much better than I am.

Night Magic (dual wanking, voyeurism)

Then, without meaning to, he heard himself let out a low, quiet groan.

He stilled, and watched, dizzy, as Harry’s eyes opened, shining impossibly bright in the moonlit room. They met his head-on, and he stared as Harry registered what was happening, what Draco was doing, had been doing, and then…

And then he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop, he just kept at it, kept moving his hand firmly along his cock, kept fucking himself on his own fingers, kept panting, louder now, and shaking. But now he was doing it with his eyes locked on Draco’s, and his eyes were hot and terrible and full of want.

Draco began to move again, faster and harder, let himself feel all of it, pleasure trilling up and down his spine, as he stared into Harry’s green eyes. He let out a whine, anguished and needy, and saw Harry shudder.

Harry Potter and the Great Cat Caper (topping from the bottom)

After a moment, he sat up and Harry watched, entranced, as he pressed a finger into his hole, blatantly, luridly, so that Harry could see everything, and Harry’s cock, so hard and leaking already, twitched painfully at the sight of it, and at the sound of Malfoy’s moan as he fucked into himself with one finger and then two.

Harry went to pull at his own cock – it needed to be touched so badly - but Malfoy held him off, grabbing his wrist tight. “No,” he said roughly, still moving against his own hand. “That’s for me.”

Harry felt his stomach dip at the words, aching in anticipation, and then Malfoy was lifting up and positioning himself above Harry. Harry could hardly breathe as he felt Malfoy take him in hand and line him up against his hole. Malfoy looked at Harry as he very deliberately lowered himself onto Harry’s cock, and when Harry’s eyes closed at the sensation ripping through him, Malfoy grabbed his chin. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and soft. ”I don’t want you to forget, even for a moment, who it is making you feel this way.”

Harry stared up at him as he started to move, a slow, languorous rhythm, his eyes hot on Harry’s. Harry could feel every long, endless drag of muscle against his cock ricocheting up his body and back down again, pinpricks of pleasure blooming in his skull and low in his belly. His heart was beating wildly, his breath coming in rough bursts.

He ran his hands over Malfoy’s thighs, his hips, enchanted by the look of him, by the way he moved like a snake through the grasses, hunting and hungry. He pressed his hands over the flowers blooming in a curve along Malfoy’s hips, then up, up, up, to Malfoy’s mouth.

Malfoy took Harry’s hand and let Harry push a finger into his mouth, and it was so hot and soft and wet. “What do I taste like today,” Harry asked, his voice raw.

Malfoy pulled off of Harry’s finger and smirked. “Like me. Like my sweat. Like my come.”

The Things We Need (voyeurism, gangbang)

And then they started touching him – a hand on his back, his arse, his cheek. When someone slid a finger into him, I gasped like it was me they were touching.

“You want something in your mouth, too?” I heard one of them say, and Draco’s mouth opened without question.

“Answer me,” said the man.

“Yes, please,” Draco said before letting out a high-pitched whine as someone else began to fuck him.

“You sound like a posh little princess, don’t you? A high-class whore,” the man said, and Draco only moaned and opened his mouth again.

Soon, his mouth was full of cock and he was getting fucked from behind, and I was watching in a daze. He let them come down his throat and in his arse, taking turns, new ones coming in every so often, a sea of bare skin in all different shades milling around him, talking about him like he wasn’t even there – ‘desperate for it, isn’t he?’ ‘takes cock like he was born to do it’ and ‘need to open him up wider, yeah?’.

The Remnant (sex while Harry is possessed by a demonic entity)

A calloused hand covered his mouth, and suddenly Potter was sitting astride him, clad only in a pair of navy briefs. His face came close to Draco’s and he smelled like Draco’s shampoo. “Oh, Draco, the things I’m going to do to you,” he said softly, his breath tickling Draco’s skin. Draco shuddered underneath him.

“Look at you, and all I’ve done is whisper a little something in your ear,” Potter said, chuckling. “Dra-a-aco-o-o.” He drew the name out, letting the vowels hover for too long. Then he lunged and bit, his teeth digging into the sensitive skin below Draco’s ear. Draco let out a yelp from behind the hand that still covered his mouth.

“Too hard? I can be gentle, for a while.” Then there was a kiss where the bite had been, and Draco found himself moaning and arching up, his aching cock seeking friction.

Another chuckle. “You’re almost too easy. You’re lucky I like that.” The hand fell away.

“Potter, what are you doing?” Draco hissed.

“What does it look like?” The blanket that covered him was being pulled down even though Potter wasn’t pulling it; Potter’s hands were still near Draco’s face. Potter spared a glance downward and started laughing, low, and sweet and sticky like honey.

“What?”

“So easy,” Potter said, reaching down for Draco’s cock, which was already painfully hard. “Not even a little bit of cotton on you? I think you might’ve been waiting for me.”

Song For the Dumped (desk sex, banter)

“Maybe I like to torture you,” Potter said, deliberately brushing his fingers over Draco’s prostate once again.

“Please,” Draco said. He was a proud bastard, but he needed to be fucked or he was going to die. Just keel over, right here. “Fucking hell, please.”

“Pull yourself open for me,” Potter said, kissing his back again.

Draco reached behind himself and spread his cheeks and Potter groaned. “Fuck, you look good. How do you even do that? How are you so fucking smooth?”

“My god, Potter. You git. I’m a wizard. How do you think?”

Potter shoved his fingers back in. “Be nice, or I’ll just do this all night.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Draco said.

“Try me,” said Potter.

Tapestry (jealousy, bathroom sex)

“Are you fucking him?” Potter asked.

Draco swallowed thickly. To lie or not to lie? Or continue playing coy? Although, Draco got the feeling that if he shrugged again, Potter might punch him in the face. “No. Not yet.”

“But you want to, do you?” Potter asked, leaning even closer, settling his hands on either side of Draco on the marble ledge of the sink. “Let me ask you this: do you think he’s up to the task? Because I don’t. I think he’ll be too gentle with you. He won’t know what you want. He won’t know what you need.”

Draco’s breath was coming fast now, his heart galloping in his chest. “And you think that you do?"

Potter’s mouth was at his ear. “You know I do.”

Draco Malfoy, Serial Wanker (wanking, voyeurism)

“I – I don’t know. I like that you’re watching me.”

“You like being watched, do you?"

“Yeah,” Draco breathed.

“God, you look good doing that,” Potter whispered, and Draco made a little whining sound in his throat, needy and pathetic.

“Stroke yourself, yeah?" Potter's fingertips moved down to Draco's thigh. "I’d like to see you come. Can I see you come?”

Draco managed to open his eyes. He felt drunk. “Yes,” he said.

I’m in Love With a Stripper (dirty talk, insecurity)

“You want me, too.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“You’ve thought about it. You’ve dreamt of it. You’ve fingered yourself thinking of me. You’ve come into your own hand calling out my name.”

“Yes, yes, goddamn you.” Draco bit at Harry’s lip, hard enough to draw blood, and his eyes were fixed on Harry’s, enormous and glowing silver in the moonlight.

“Tell me,” Harry said, reaching down between his legs.

“I’ve – mmf – I think about you all the time. Every time. When Dominic fucks me I pretend it’s you. I ride my own fingers and imagine it’s your cock –” He stopped and let out a groan as Harry pulled down his jeans and his pants and freed his prick. “It’s always you, it’s always you in my head. I can’t ever be rid of you. You’re always there.”

Harry got his fingers slick with a wandless lubrication spell and then he was pushing in, into the heat of Draco, and Draco was throwing his head back and crying out. “Tell me,” Harry said again. “Tell me what you think about.”

“Your cock, Harry. Your cock and your hands and your mouth. I think of them on me and in me; everywhere. I think about you coming in me, all over me. I think about tasting your cock. God, I think about it all the time.”

“When Dominic fucks you.”

“Yes, oh my god, yes,” He arched up and bore down, thrusting himself against Harry’s fingers. “Every time. Every single time.”

“You never think of anyone else.”

“Always you, Harry, always,” He panted, squeezing his eyes shut. He let out a guttural cry as Harry added another finger. “You’re the only one who’s fucked me since I was seventeen. Every time.”

Tagging @tackytigerfic @lqtraintracks @lettersbyelise @shealwaysreads @sweet-s0rr0w @ghaniblue @writcraft @phoebe-delia @saxamophone @gracerene @skeptiquewrites @oknowkiss PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR BEST SMUT, I NEED IT (but only if you want to and have time 💕)

#drarry #10 smut scenes #kbrick's fics #smut #tag game

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