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One England

Yet another fun commission to write! And with some political undertones, which is always fun! I am really enjoying all the commissions that have been coming my way, so keep me in mind, if you are looking for one! 

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Fandom: The Last Kingdom 

Pairing: Pagans x Christians 

Type: Drama

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The sound of hundreds of anxious hooves, digging into the soft earth, closed in on King Alfred and Guthrum, as they met in the center of the impending battlefield. The two leaders brought only their most trusted warriors to guard them. For Alfred, it was Uhtred, Father Beocca, and Leofric, and for Guthrum, it was Brida, Ragnar, and Skorpa. Both men knew the importance of this battle. It would be the deciding battle over territory and honor. 

“I do not wish to fight, Guthrum. This does not need to happen, if you allow our Lord into your heart. Then you will see that we can be one people,” Alfred declared.

“You speak like a coward, Alfred. If you were a true leader, you would show your people that you are willing to die for them, as I am for mine,” Guthrum replied without hesitation.

“I will show my people that peace is worth fighting for. Hopefully, you will come to understand that the Danes cannot live without the Saxons, and the Saxons cannot live without the Danes.” 

The two men locked eyes, considering their next move. It was clear that the two men had the same wish -- to protect their people and preserve their culture. 

“If your god can manage to lead your army to victory,” Guthrum laughed, “then maybe I will accept him.” 

“Your god is nothing compared to ours, just as your warriors are weaker than ours. Because of your foolishness, you will watch your people be slaughtered, and their blood will be on your hands,” Skorpa sneered. 

“How dare you insult my king and my God!” Beocca cried, gripping his spear. 

“Calm yourself, Father. He is beneath you,” Alfred said evenly. 

“It appears as though the battle has already begun, Alfred. I would advise you to prepare your troops for slaughter,” Guthrum turned and rode back to his warriors, who lifted their weapons and let out the deafening cries of hungry excitement. Alfred began to return to his army and could see that they were not as hungry for blood. 

“Don’t worry, my Lord. God will see us through.” 

“Yes, Father Beocca, and I must do what’s right for my people.” 

                                                     * * * *

King Alfred stood before his army, holding himself higher than he ever had before. No sickness could stop him from leading his people, not on such an important day. The men waited anxiously for their leader to command them. In the distance, they could hear Guthrum’s booming voice, which was followed by cheers from his army. Alfred’s army appeared to be momentarily weakened by the sound; they began glancing at each other uneasily -- their eyes revealed their fears.

Alfred looked at his people and cleared his throat.

“Today, I will ask much of my men,” Alfred started. “I will ask them to give their lives for our righteous Lord and our mighty kingdom,” The men cheered in response, and urged Alfred to continue. “I do not wish to force Christianity onto these people, as Charlesmagne had in the past -- through sword and blood. I wish for them to find God, as we all have here. I am confident that once they feel His strength, they will be compelled to join us. Unfortunately, it seems that only by winning this battle will God’s will be revealed to them.” Alfred’s army cheered again, louder this time, but Alfred was not finished.

“Only by joining together and saving Wessex can we save England,” Alfred lifted his sword, hilt up to show the sign of the cross. “We must become one people, even if that means we must fight for it,” his men let out a final cry, which echoed across the battlefield and silenced their enemies, if only for a moment.

Alfred stepped closer to his men and urged them to gather around him: “Now, we must devise our battle strategy.” 

                                                    * * * *

The Saxon army had been training, with Uhtred’s help, to defeat the Danes. They knew that their enemies were often driven by their instinctive anger, which with their practice the Saxons would be able to withstand. Alfred also knew that the Danes would naturally fear for Saxon reinforcements and be positioned close to their ships; therefore, if his army were in the correct position, the Danes would be virtually trapped, between his army and the sea. Were the Danes to attack, they could easily be picked off, and if they tried to run, they would be killed by arrows. The men were prepared in these tactics; they just needed to stay strong and not let the taunts of the Vikings get to them. 

“The time has come, men. We must march boldly into battle. Get into position!” Alfred cried. “Shields up!” The men yelled out in agreement, as they lined up, arm-to-arm, and lifted their shields. 

“Together!” Uhtred yelled.

                                                    * * * *

For what felt like an hour, the only sound was the marching of boots on the soft grass as the opposing armies inched closer to each other. The Saxons, of course, were afraid of their enemies; however, what many of the Saxons didn’t realize was that Guthrum had told his men about the Christian God, and many of the Viking, too, were afraid. 

Just as Alfred and Uhtred had predicted, the Vikings were the first to attack. It did not take much taunting before their men began to charge. The gap between the two armies closed quickly, and on Uhtred’s command, the Saxons help strong, and their shields closed tightly against each other. Men on both sides prayed to their gods. Then the weapons began to fly, with the Saxons still on the defensive.

Alfred stood on the hill, with the archers, commanding them when and where to shoot. He could see that the line of men were slowly separating. From Alfred’s viewpoint, he could see the blood that had been spilt -- from the Saxons and the Danes. The massive amount of carnage was something that Alfred had seen before, usually from the frontlines, but this felt different. He wanted peace and it felt unbelievable that a war was happening right beneath him, with the hope that peace may arise from it. As Alfred lost himself in thought, Beocca rode up next to him. 

“Lord,” Beocca started nervously, “our army holds strong, but Leofric’s life has been taken.” Both men instinctively made the sign of the cross.

“Decisions are made and consequences follow, it is the way. Our task is to deal with the present,” Alfred stated, looking over his brave warriors. 

“Peace will come, my Lord. I am sure of it,” Beocca replied.

“I have lost many righteous men, but I will not lose hope.” 

The two men were still looking over the battlefield, when Skorpa rode between the two armies. To their surprise, he was holding Uhtred’s pagan wife’s head.

“Skorpa will die by my spear, I swear it,” Beocca said through gritted teeth. King Alfred stopped him before he could start toward the battlefield. 

“This is what I am wishing to change, Father. A person being attacked for daring to be of two cultures. I wish for us to be one people. Besides, it is up to Uhtred to get retribution for his queen.” 

From the battlefield, Uhtred escaped from behind the Saxon shields and charged through enemy lines. The only thought on Uhtred’s mind was his queen’s beauty and killing her murderer. He attacked only the Danes that he knew would get in his way. He dragged Skorpa off his horse and attack him with pure rage and hatred. It wasn’t hard, for Uhtred, to knock Skorpa off his feet. As the Danes and Saxons watched, Uhtred mercilessly killed Skorpa with his own spear and looked him in the eyes, as his final breath escaped him. 

Alfred, watching the scene from the hill, had only one thing to say: “Only someone who stands between two cultures will be able to close this divide.” 

                                                    * * * *  

The battle ended easily after Uhtred’s show of power. In part, it was because the scene made Guthrum believe in the power of the Saxon’s god. It was a power that Guthrum knew he would need, if he wished for his people to survive. This was much to Alfred’s surprise, but he accepted it quickly and set up Guthrum’s baptism to happen right away. 

Both the Danes and the Saxons came to watch the baptism, although the crowd didn’t mingle and not many of the onlookers looked very happy. Despite the tension, in the air, Beocca gave a powerful speech. He gave thanks to the brethren that were about to join the Saxons in peace and prosperity. When Guthrum was finally baptized, and Alfred was announced as his godfather, there was a weak cheer. Then Guthrum stood tall and gripped the flag of his people, which was adorned with blue roses. 

“The time has come for peace. Our people will come together King Alfred. The power of your God has been revealed to me, and it will now be my life’s work to show it to my people. The Danes, the Vikings, the Pagans -- we are no more. Your wish for unity has been granted, my Lord.” Ragnar came to Guthrum’s side, after his speech, and handed him a flaming torch. With the help of one Saxon and one Dane, the flag was spread out and Guthrum touched the center of it with the torch. The flames took to it immediately. Guthrum stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Alfred and watched it burn. There was only silence as the flag burned. There was no rejoice. No cheers. Not a single smile amongst the crowd.

“You have won the war, but you must win the peace,” Guthrum said to Alfred. “So, now is the time to stiffen the sinews and summon up the blood.”

                                                    * * * * 

There was an official meeting with Alfred and his trusted advisers, shortly after the peace was made. The tension was palpable between both sides, even with their separate living spaces. It was something that Alfred knew he would have to address, just as Guthrum had said. 

Alfred began: “One day, it is my hope that all kingdoms will be united under one God. If all men can agree, yes. The birth of an England, the idea of a single kingdom called England has to begin here. There is nowhere else.” The men did not wait long to voice their dissent. 

“My Lord,” someone spoke up, “I think I speak for all of us when I say that there is no possible way to be with those heathens. They are interlopers; they have taken our land and our wealth. It is in their blood. I admire your vision of one England, but there cannot be peace this way, I’m sure of this.” 

Before Alfred could respond, Aethelflaed stepped forward. “The Anglo-Saxons should develop into a nation of philosophers. They will no longer prefer instinct to logic and character to intelligence. But they must get rid of their downright contempt for ‘cleverness’. They cannot afford it any longer. They must grow less tolerant of ugliness, and mentally more adventurous. And they must stop despising foreigners.” 

“And let us not forget,” Alfred chimed in, “it was a Pagan who saved my child. She worked tirelessly to make sure I would have an heir to the throne. She gave her life to our cause. And I will also remind you once more who landed the deciding blow of our battle for peace: Uhtred, a man truly of two cultures.” The men in the room where silent. 

“I will advise you that if you wish to be a part of the kingdom of England, expel all of this hatred and let peace into your heart.” 

                                                    * * * *

The Saxon officials were not the only ones who felt the peace would not be a lasting one. The separation and resentment was clear across the kingdom. Beocca and Uhtred would often spend their afternoons strolling through the village, working together to create unity. During one particular show of strain, a fight broke out between a Saxon and a Dane; Beocca and Uhtred were quick to separate the men.

“He shouldn’t be here!” The Saxon yelled. 

“I could end your life easily!” The Dane shot back. 

“Uhtred,” Father Beocca whispered, “You are a Saxon who is also a Dane, the very embodiment of the England that must emerge. You need to say something to calm these men.” 

“You must listen to me!” Uhtred yelled above their arguing. “All across the country, people felt it was the wrong thing. All across the country, people felt it was the right thing. All across the country, people felt it was the right thing. All across the country, people felt like they’d really lost. All across the country people felt they’d really won. All across the country, people felt they’d done the right thing and other people had done the wrong thing. What matters now, what really matters now, is we find a way to live together. This is who we are now. This is our future.” When Uhtred was finished, the two men grumbled their apologies and walked off.

“You should be a priest,” Beocca snorted. “You have more skill than I do.” 

                                                    * * * * 

Months passed and slowly things began to change. Although neither side would admit it, they became rather fond of each other. Soon, there was to be a wedding between a Dane and a Saxon. Celebrations did not happen often, so everyone in the kingdom was likely to attend. Therefore, for weeks following the announcement, there was an air of excitement. Women began to string garlands of flowers, and the local seamstress made it her duty to create a beautiful gown for the glowing bride. Alfred even offered the courtyard of his castle for the ceremony to take place. Beocca of course, would be the priest to marry the couple. 

The day of the wedding came, and there was excited chatter throughout the kingdom. Many people dressed in their finest clothing and brought gifts for the couple. The courtyard was heavily decorated, and there was a delicious feast waiting to be eaten, after the ceremony. Needless to say, the courtyard was packed with people, waiting for the event to start. Alfred was certain this was the beginning of the England he had been envisioning. Beocca made a beautiful speech, one of unity and acceptance. It was a new beginning for the couple, and for all of England. 

And when the couple kissed, everyone cheered.

[bigheartbigfart]

Like an Angel in the Night

I recently did such a fun commission, in which I combined two historical dramas into one! This was a lot of fun for me, because I took a senior seminar in Medieval Literature and was familiar with some of the historical characters! I also really enjoyed getting to know the character in both of the shows. 

Please note that this fic is kind of long, but definitely worth the read! 

Enjoy! 

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Fandom: The Last Kingdom x Outlander

Pairing: Claire x King Alfred

Type: Drama

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Alfred knew that the end of his days was coming quickly. He could hardly recognize himself, when he caught his reflection. He had always looked sickly and thin, even when he was a child, but now he looked like the walking dead. To make matters worse, he could feel the eyes of his kingdom on him -- like vultures waiting for their prey. Alfred had done so much for his Kingdom, for Wessex; however, he was barely prepared to leave it, no matter how much he trusted his son to take the crown. 

As the daylight began to fade, Alred could feel his strength going with it, as if his soul was already halfway to heaven. If that is where it is to end up, Alfred thought bitterly. He staggered to his bed. At one time, he looked forward to its comfortable furs. Tonight, however, he dreaded climbing into bed, because those same furs now felt stifling on his clammy skin. Alfred began to drift in and out of consciousness, thinking how this would most likely be his last day on Earth, and it was a shame that he couldn’t cherish its earthly comforts, while they lasted. 

                                                       * * * *

Claire woke in a cold sweat; the wind seemed to be whispering something in her ear, but before she could decipher the words, her legs began to carry her. Claire was running. She didn’t even stop to change into something more decent than a nightgown. Suddenly, she was out in the cold air, in nothing but her white silk slip. Claire couldn’t comprehend why she was running; her body seemed to know something that her mind did not. 

The wind was carrying her through the forest, where the faint whispering, all around her, began to grow louder. The air became electric with unexplainable energy. After sometime, Claire came upon a circle of rocks, which looked similar to Craigh na Dun. She trusted the whispering wind to guide her, as she touched the cold stone. Claire held her breath and closed her eyes. She felt something calling to her, something strong. She focused on that energy, that calling. She trusted the wind, the rocks, and the energy to bring her through time once more, even though she didn’t know where, or rather when, she was going. 

When Claire opened her eyes, she knew she was somewhere she had never been before. The pungent smell of sweat, manure, and blood assaulted her nose, and when her eyes were finally able to adjust to the blinding sunlight, Claire could see that she was further in the past than she had ever been. The scenery told her that she might even be in the Medieval times. Claire focused on the whispering wind, so it would tell her what to do. She could feel it calling her to the village in the distance. It felt important. It felt like destiny.  

                                                      * * * *

Alfred woke with a start; there was a commotion outside his bedroom door. Before he could try to call out weakly for his wife or Father Beocca, a spectral image of a woman burst through the door with a powerful energy about her. He would have been sure that it was a hallucination, had it not been for the swarm of guards who were chasing her with their swords drawn. 

“Lord, this wench, she -” a guard started.

“I can assure you that I am no wench, sir. I’m here… Well… I’m here for…”

                                                      * * * *

Claire wasn’t sure how she made it to these bedchambers or how she managed to evade the bloodstained swords of the barbarians surrounding her; and she still didn’t know what she was doing here. However, when she laid eyes upon the skeleton of a man, laying in bed, she knew that she was sent here to help him. 

You cannot save the world, Claire thought to herself, but you might save the man in front of you, if you work fast enough. She sprung into action then, or she would have, if the guards hadn’t grabbed her.

“Oh, let me go, you brutes! I need to save this man, who I suppose is your king!” She yelled, and tried to break from their tight grasp.

                                                      * * * *

“Lord, what do you wish we do with this woman?” One of the guards asked, “She appears to be a wise woman… Although, I’ve not seen her as a healer in Wessex before.”

Alfred looked wearily at the woman in front of him, in her wisp of a white nightgown, unsure of whether he could trust her. Then he thought of something that had been on his mind a lot recently: the decision he had made to give his sickly son to Iseult, when he was hiding in the Marshlands. He remembered something that Untred had told him, advice, which now seemed more like a premonition. 

You have this one chance to save your son, and you will have one chance to save your kingdom. The two are bound together.

Now, it appeared as though Alfred had one chance to save himself. He had sinned a lot in his life, and he had been unable to abstain from the temptations of youth, but now, standing in front of him, was an angel with a mission. This must be a sign from God that King Alfred was to reign for a little longer. He was not to be the king that went quietly into the night. 

“Release her. Let her do what she must,” he said hoarsely, and closed his eyes. 

                                                      * * * *

Claire wrestled from the grasp of the men holding her and ran to the man’s bedside.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” Claire gasped, “He’s nearly dead!” She ripped the blankets off of him, and could see that his clothes were drenched in sweat, and he was clutching his stomach tightly. Claire gently removed his hands from his stomach and pressed lightly on it, which Alfred replied to with a pained groan. As she suspected, there was swelling in the abdomen. After asking Alfred his medical history, in a hushed voice, she had an idea of what ailed him. Claire had read about a disease that a medical team had discovered before the War; she remembered that it was called Crohn’s Disease, and it was connected to irritation with the digestive system. She guessed that his intestines had a bacterial infection, common with Crohn’s Disease, and it was what was causing him pain and fever. If it continued to go untreated, it would kill him.

Claire needed to think faster, if she was to save this man. She needed antibiotics. She racked her brain with medicinal herbs, thanking her lucky stars that she took the time to study natural remedies in her spare time. 

“I need Garlic, honey, clove…” Claire began to shout. “I also need water, alcohol, and fresh cloth!” She turned around to see that the guards were stunned by her orders, and they had not made a move to fulfill them.  

“NOW!” She yelled, “Do you want him to die?” The men shifted uncomfortably and looked at one another, unsure of what to do. Luckily, while Claire had been inspecting the patient, a man who appeared to be a priest had pushed past the guards and was carefully watching her work. When he saw that the guards were not following her orders, he spoke up.

“Listen to her! Get her what she needs! Whether she be a wise woman, witch, or angel, we must respect the King’s wishes.” The priest said firmly. The guards responded to his commands and scattered to find what Claire had asked for. Then he ran to the bedside and knelt by the king. 

“King Alfred, I am here. I will pray for you.” The priest said, as he held Alfred’s hand. 

“Father Beocca, I am grateful for your presence. I fear that I have not repented enough, and I fear for my fate,” King Alfred confessed in a whisper. 

“My Lord, do not worry about God’s will, now. Your strength is needed elsewhere.” Father Beocca looked up at Claire, and an understanding passed between them. “I will stay with you, lady, and help in anyway that I can.” Father Beocca said to her, then he bent his head forward and clasped his hands in prayer. 

As Father Beocca was prayed with King Alfred, the men came back with the things that Claire had asked for. First, she dunked the questionably clean cloth into the bucket of water and laid it onto Alfred’s forehead and chest; immediately, she could feel the heat radiating through it.

“Father, keep him cool and make sure that he drinks,” Claire said, passing Beocca the water bucket and cloth, to which he nodded and got to work. With Claire’s hands free of the water and cloth, she grabbed the mortar and pestle that had been brought to her with the herbs that she had asked for.

“Drink this, Alfred. Help him, Father, please,” Claire said, passing Beocca the cup of make-shift antibiotics. 

                                                      * * * *

“May heaven have no more broth.” King Alfred groaned, but lifted his head and allowed Father Beocca to help him drink. 

It felt like hours of Claire working with him -- giving him sips of the ghoulish drink that she had made for him and massaging his abdomen tenderly, while Father Beocca worked tirelessly to break his fever. But soon, Alfred felt well enough to sit up in bed and sip from Claire’s cup without assistance. Alfred had never wanted to go down in history as a weak king, and he now understood the God was giving him one last chance to make his legacy. He could continue to spread God’s word and to prepare his son to take the throne. 

Alfred could feel a change inside him. He wanted to live. 

                                                      * * * *

Claire could see Alfred’s color returning, and she sighed with relief. She requested that a stew be made, because she knew the Lord would need sustenance to keep his strength. Just as Alfred’s fever broke, the soup came, and Alfred took it eagerly, which made Claire laugh. 

“I am glad to be rid of that disgusting brew you’ve been having me drink,” Alfred said lightheartedly.

“Excuse me, but that brew saved your life, King Alfred,” Claire shot back.

There was a long silence between the two. Claire looked into the eyes of a man who appeared to have come back from the dead, and all she could do was smile. Alfred held her gaze and cleared his throat. 

“My lady, may I ask you something?” He said quietly. Claire nodded. “Who sent you? Are you an angel from the Lord?”

Claire laughed lightly and held his hand. “Truthfully, I don’t know exactly what I am, or how I came to be here. But I knew when I saw you that it was you I was sent here for.”

“I am in your debt, lady, may I have your name?” Alfred asked.

“It’s Claire.”

“A strange name… For a strange presence, I suppose,” King Alfred said with a soft laugh. “How can I repay you? I have silver… and riches. Whatever you wish.”

“Please, my Lord, I ask for only one thing. I would like a horse, and a guide, to bring me back to the tall rocks on the hill. That’s all.” 

“So it shall be done. I feel well enough, may I walk you to the stables?” Alfred asked, trying to get out of bed.

“No, you need your rest, and I trust Father Beocca will tend to you well. I must say goodbye now.” Claire said. She stood and lightly kissed Alfred’s forehead -- thankful that she could feel no trace of fever on him. Claire turned to leave, her long white nightgown trailing behind her.

Just like that, King Alfred’s angel was gone into the night. 

[bigheartbigfart]

Hermione Granger and the New School Ch. 3

Recently, I have felt like I can use this fanfiction as a chance to rewrite HP, as I feel that it should have been written. Also to think about the different perspectives of the book. 

Anyway... Enough about that, since I’m only on Ch. 3... But things are starting to get juicy! Who do you think is knocking at the door at the end of the chapter?? Let me know! 

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⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ Ch. 1  ⛤ Ch.2 ⛤ Ch. 3 ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ 

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Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Hermione being the damn bad ass that she is.

Type: Alternate Perspective

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Hermione heard her parents’ hushed whispers long before she read the letter. About a month and a half before Hermione’s 11th birthday, she woke in the middle of the night to get a drink of water. Much to her surprise, Hermione saw that there was a light already on, in the kitchen, and she could hear her parents speaking in a low secretive tone. Hermione knew it was wrong to do, but she hid herself in the shadows of the doorway, so she could eavesdrop on their conversation. She could hear her parents talking about some new school - and who would send a letter like that. At first, Hermione feared that her parents had gotten a letter from her school, expelling her for not getting along with the other kids; therefore, her parents must be discussing sending her away to a boarding school. Hermione shuddered at the thought of going to a school so far away from home, but shook off her dread and continued to listen. 

“Honey, there’s no way this can be real. I could understand if Hermione got a letter from any other gifted school, but this one? Come on.” It was father; she could see from where she was hiding that he was hunched over the table, staring at a piece of paper. 

“Well, it… it almost make sense… She’s always… always… I don’t know.” Her mother replied. 

“You honestly believe this?”

“I’m not saying I believe it! Just that if such things were real,  it would make a lot of sense.”

“So… So, you’ll have our daughter kidnapped by some creep, because… because of this magical feeling you have?” Hermione had never heard her father so upset; even in his whipster, she could hear his voice straining in anger, but more in fear. She could see her mother place her hand on his shoulder, and he immediately relaxed. 

“Please. Don’t be upset at me for being hopeful. We both know how wonderful it would be for Hermione to have a chance like this… In such a… a… unique setting I’m not saying we should believe it, or even reply. But let’s just think about it. And be hopeful.” Hermione’s mother’s voice was soothing, and Hermione could hear her dad start to chuckle softly. 

“How would we even reply to such a letter? Hop on a broomstick?” They both laughed, and it seemed as though their conversation would be ending for now. Hermione tiptoed her way back to her room without being seen. She crawled into her bed still thirsty and a little confused, but mostly she was curious. 

                                                       *    *    *    *

Summer came quickly for Hermione. Unlike other kids her age, Hermione did not use summer as a vacation from learning. She would enjoy most of her days reading in the shade. She would catch up on reading about her interests, the ones that she needed to neglect during the school year to ensure that she gets high marks. She read about things like the Civil Rights Movement in America and Greek Mythology. Sometimes, you could catch Hermione feeding and taking care of the stray cats around her neighborhood. Hermione so badly wanted a cat, herself, but she knew how her parents felt about pets - they were both very allergic to fur. 

On this particular day, however, Hermione was on a mission. Her parents were out to brunch with their friends, which Hermione had been invited to, of course, but had politely declined. Her excuse was that she had started a new book that has totally engrossed her attention. Although that wasn’t entirely a lie, Hermione had plans that required her parents to be away. 

Hermione wanted to read the letter that she knew her parents have been hiding from her. 

Hermione wasn’t normally a rule breaker, meaning that she couldn’t remember breaking a single rule in her life. She had never even made the kind of plans that might cause her to break rules. She always believed that rules were created for a reason: to keep people safe, and to make sure that everyone was being a productive citizen. Therefore, Hermione was known as a stickler for the rules, even by her own parents. However, this felt important to Hermione, more important than rules. 

Hermione tiptoed her way to her parents’ room, cringing at every creak of the floorboard. Of course, there was no reason for Hermione to be sneaking -- her parents had left the house recently, and they wouldn’t be back for quite some time. But Hermione felt it better to be safe than sorry. If she were going to break a rule, she was going to make sure that she wasn’t going to be caught. 

When she made it to her parents’ room, she checked the usual places -- her father’s desk, under their bed, and her mother’s filing cabinet. The letter in question was nowhere to be seen, not that Hermione knew exactly what kind of letter she was looking for. She felt like she was frantically searching for hours, although it was probably just 45 minutes. Hermione could feel herself starting to sweat, starting to panic. She didn’t think it would be this hard to find the letter, and certainly her parents would be home soon. Hermione sat on her parents’ bed, contemplating what she should do -- if she should continue searching and risk getting caught, or if she should stop her search now and risk not getting another chance to look of the letter, for a very long time. Hermione weighed her choices, and sighed, getting up and walking to her room to grab her book. He did not want to give her parents a reason not to trust her, and she knew that she had no reason to distrust that her parents would be making an unwise choice on her behalf.

                                                        *    *    *    *

When Hermione’s parents returned, they found her sitting under her favorite tree, reading a book. They were chatting happily and smiling at her. As they got closer, Hermione could sense a nervous energy coming from her parents. 

“Mum, dad, how was your brunch?” Hermione asked, closing her book.

“It was delicious, darling, but we missed your company,” Hermione’s mother said, glancing at her husband. 

“But dear, there is something important we need to talk to you about -- will you come inside?” Her father asked her. 

                                                       *    *    *    *

When the Grangers got inside, they all sat at the table together. There was a long silence, until finally Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at each other apprehensively, and Mrs. Granger cleared her throat. 

“Hermione, darling, there’s something your father and I need to talk to you about.” Hermione scooted to the end of her seat and nodded, hoping that it had something to do with the mysterious letter.

“Now, your mother and I would never want to hide anything from you. We’ve built this family on trust.” Mr. Granger sighed and glanced at his wife for reassurance. She gently placed her hand on his arm and urged him to continue. “But recently, we got a letter in the mail that concerned us.” Hermione nearly leapt out of her seat with excitement, and nodded her head furiously. 

“Well, let’s just have you read it, then.” Hermione’s mother said, getting up and removing the letter from under a stack of mail that was on the kitchen counter. Hermione metally noted to always check in plain sight, when she was looking for something that she suspected to be hidden. Then again, she reminded herself, her parents didn’t even know she had been looking -- she had only found out about the letter by eavesdropping on a private conversation, afterall. 

When Hermione’s mother handed Hermione the letter, she could hardly believe that she finally had it in her hands. She glanced at her parents, as she began to slowly open the letter, which had once been sealed by a beautiful red wax emblem. 

Hermione stared at the letter for a long time, not even bothering to read the words, just staring in wonderment at this soon to be unraveled mystery. It was almost like some ancient artifact on a bit of yellowed parchment. Hermione looked at her parents once more, and they gave her encouraging smiles. Hermione now allowed herself to decipher the beautiful calligraphy that marked the page. 

                                           HOGWARTS SCHOOL 

                                          of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwamp, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva Mcgonagall 

Deputy Headmistress 

She read the letter again and again, with her mouth slightly agape, until she felt her father rest a hand on her arm. Then she looked up at her parents, unable to think of any words to say. It all made so much sense, yet it seemed to be so far-fetched. Her parents’ eyes mirrored her thoughts. 

“Mrs. Granger cleared her throat, “so you can see why we were reluctant to show you, and i-” 

“I want to go, mum, I-” Hermione nearly shouted with excitement.

“But Honey, remember…” 

“Dad I - it feels…”

“Hermione, remember, there are bad people out there.” 

“Darling, don’t worry her with such…” 

The crosstalk continued for some time, with the conversation simply going in circles. 

“Please, let’s take a minute.” Mrs. Granger finally said, “I think we should just - we should just sleep on it. All of us. Give it a day, and… and reconvene.”

However, the Grangers had little time to think about what they should do about the letter. Because while the three were sitting at the kitchen table, in thoughtful silence, there was a knock at the door.  

[bigheartbigfart]

Chew me up. Spit me out. 

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A New Perspective (The Society)

Thank you to one of my lovely customers for making this commission! I finally got around to watching The Society, and I really enjoyed it. I have so many ships from the show. So, if you are totally into this series, make some suggestions and commission me! 

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        ❀                           ❀                              ❀                                       ❀

Fandom: The Society 

Pairing: Helena x Elle

Type: Romance/Fluff

       ❀                           ❀                              ❀                                       ❀  

Helena stepped into her room quietly; she saw Elle sitting on her bed, with a blank look in her eyes, cradling herself. Helena prayed to God that she may be able to help Elle in some small way. 

“I found some clothes for you.” Helena said, in a near whisper. She didn’t want to startle her. “I just thought that it would be nice to change into something that… was… new, you know?” 

Elle smiled slightly, looking down at her toes. “Thank you. For everything. It’s… been a while since someone has done something kind for me. It feels really… nice.” She looked into Helena’s eyes, then, and Helena felt like she could suddenly see right through Elle, could see all the beauty inside of her, despite all the terrible things that threatened to destroy it. 

Helena sat on the bed next to her and gently put her hand onto Elle’s knee. “Why don’t you get changed. I think it might make you feel a little bit better.” She said. 

Elle put her hand onto Helena’s hand, “I feel so much better already. You can’t possibly understand what this means to me.” Elle stood up then and took the clothes from Helena’s hands. She watched as Elle slowly took off her clothes, like she was trying to take off all the layers of herself that she wanted to forget. Helena found it hard to look away, but she felt like it might be uncomfortable for Elle, if she continued to stare, so she stared at her feet, instead. 

“These fit me perfectly, thank you.” Elle finally said. Helena looked up. Elle was wearing Helena’s favorite pair of sweatpants and one of her old t-shirts. They were such basic pieces of clothing, yet Elle somehow looked different, almost like a new person. Helena could feel something start to glow in the pit of her stomach, and start to build. It was strange. She had never felt this way before, and she was apprehensive to put a name to it. But looking at the way that Elle’s blonde hair fell onto her shoulders, as she untucked it from her shirt collar, and to see Helena’s sweatpants fit so perfectly on her hips, and bunch at her ankles, only made that glow in her stomach get brighter and brighter.   

Helena cleared her throat, to end the silence between them. She was worried that Elle might be able to hear her heart pounding, if the silence went on for any longer. “Maybe we could watch a movie, or listen to music? Just to get your mind off of everything. You’ve been through so much.” Helena could feel her cheeks warming, no matter how much she willed them to stop. She couldn’t believe she was acting like this; she prided herself on staying calm and stoic, in most situations. She didn’t even act like this around Luke. Of course, she had never felt this way with Luke. 

“Really? You have music?” Elle replied, she seemed to light up at the thought. “I love music, and I haven’t been able to listen to much of it since prom. What kind do you have?” 

Suddenly, Helena realized that she shouldn’t have said anything. She felt her cheeks blazing. “I… I maybe have… every… every Jay-Z album…” To Helena’s surprise, Elle threw her head back and laughed. Helena realized that even in school, she had never heard Elle laugh. She wasn’t even sure that she had ever seen Elle smile. It was beautiful, everything. Everything about Elle was so beautiful, and when she laughed, Helena could feel the atmosphere in the room became light and bubbly. Every fear that might have been lurking in the shadows of their minds were suddenly gone. She couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

“Fine, Fine. We’ll watch a movie! A movie!” Helena said, through gaps of laughter. 

The two lay together on the bed, scrolling through Helena’s movie selection. Elle rested her head on Helena’s shoulder; Helena could feel her soft breath dancing along her collarbone. 

Helena couldn’t help but think about the night that they watched The Princess Bride together. It had been Elle’s idea to have a movie night for the whole community, which was meant to bring everyone together, and give them something fun to look forward to. However, Elle was sitting all alone. She looked so lonely. Helena felt compelled to be with her then, as she did now. Although the feeling that she had now, now that the two were alone, was much more intense. And she knew that it wasn’t just pity or friendliness that she was feeling for Elle. It was a true connection.

 Helena looked over at Elle, and again was struck by her beauty. She felt the urge to say something, then. 

“I could keep you safe, you know, Elle. Safe from anything.” Helena said, grabbing Elle’s hand and kissing her on the top of her head. She meant it more than anything.

“Helena. I would never ask you to do that. I could never make you to do that for me.” Elle replied, looking into her eyes.

“At least, let me do something.” Helena said desperately, allowing her hand to cup Elle’s cheek. 

“You can.” Elle whispered. Then she kissed Helena, slowly and so sure of herself. Their lips touched, and Helena could feel a tingle, that felt more like a spark, spread from her lips and all the way down to her toes. “Just let me stay here with you tonight. I think I would feel safe, falling asleep in your arms.” Helena kissed her on the forehead. 

“Of course, I would do anything for you.” Helena said softly. Elle rested her head on Helena’s shoulder and sighed. Helena stroked her hair gently; she felt safe, in the warm cocoon that their bodies and the blankets. If this were how she could spend every night, Helena thought that maybe this society wouldn’t feel so hopeless. 

Those were the thoughts that lulled both of the girls to sleep that night.

[bigheartbigfart]

Just got a drawing tablet. Really bad at using it, so I need to practice! 

Any tips would be helpful. I have a cheap wacom tablet and I use clip studio paint.

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Hey, hey! If you have a loved one and you want a poem for them, just ask! 

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Hermione Granger and the New School Ch. 2

Hey, guys! 

I finally came out with Chapter 2! I’m trying to follow the HP chapters, so that I don’t miss anything, so it’s about to get real interesting! Stay tuned!!

(I’m leaving for Ecuador soon and would appreciate any donations! Thank you!)

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 ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤  Ch. 1   ⛤ Ch.2 ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Hermione being the damn bad ass that she is. 

Type: Alternate Perspective

Hermione's parents were well off, but they knew it would be better for their daughter to attend a public school; after all, a child's social-emotional growth is just as important as their intellectual growth. Mr. and Mrs. Granger really wanted Hermione to grow up in a more diverse population than where they lived, so that she could learn acceptance of others before learning anything that could be taught in a classroom. Fortunately, accepting others came easily to Hermione, she was always willing to help others in any way that she could. Unfortunately, the kids who Hermione went to school with did not treat Hermione as kindly.

Hermione knew she was smart, because she worked for it. She studied with her teachers or parents after school and she studied by herself long after bedtime. She wanted to make the adults in her life proud and she hoped to grow up to be as smart and caring as her parents. The constant praise that Hermione received, for her intelligence, from the adults around her, let her know that all her hard work was paying off. Her classmates, on the other hand, did not view her intellectual success in the same way. They taunted her for being a teacher's pet, for being a bookworm, and for being a know it all. The only reason that anyone would choose to be a partner with her, in class, was so that they did not have to do any of the work.

The bullying that Hermione received was pretty mild, until she got a little bit older and the tests became a little bit harder. The tests weren’t any harder for Hermione, who studied diligently, but the kids in her class began struggling. Therefore, everyone in class wanted to sit next to Hermione, be partners with Hermione, but they did not want to be friends with Hermione, they only wanted to cheat off of her. One day, during a math test, Hermione noticed the boy next to her was copying her answers. Hermione did not approve of cheating. It was dishonest and it made students feel like they did not have to put in any effort to study on their own. Especially since Hermione worked so hard to get to the intellectual level that she was at. Usually, she would just let the copying of answers slide, but she had stayed up so late last night, practicing her math facts and making sure that she memorized all of the equations and formulas. Therefore, seeing this kid, who had not studied or even paid attention in class, steal her answers made her blood boil. Hermione could feel her cheeks turning red, as she tried to cover up her answers, but it did not deter his cheating in the slightest. If only the teacher could look over here, right now. She would catch him red handed! Hermione thought. But the teacher was absorbed in her own work, and did not notice the cheating that was going on in the back of the classroom.  

Hermione tried to calm herself down and ignore the boy, but the air was getting thicker and she could feel an unexpected energy starting from the base of her skull to her finger tips. It felt like static building up inside her. She began to fidget nervously, afraid that she might be dangerously ill. I need to go to the nurse. Hermione thought, she looked down at her test and back at the boy next to her. It's because of him. If he wasn't cheating off of me, I wouldn't be feeling so sick now. And if I leave… if I leave… he will keep cheating! Without thinking, Hermione moved all of her energy onto that boy. All of her static energy began to build up in her hands. Hermione was just about to get up and ask to go to the nurse, feeling as though her situation was now a medical emergency, when she heard a loud snap followed by a hard thud. She head spun to the boy beside her, his pencil had snapped in half, suddenly, causing him to fall backwards in surprise. From the floor, he flashed Hermione a fearful look, as if she caused his pencil to explode. That's impossible. Hermione thought, although a small seed of doubt had been planted in her mind, Did I do that?

After that day, the bullying became worse. Rumors had spread that Hermione was a witch, some even said she was a demon or the devil in disguise. It didn't help that Hermione had wild tendrils of curly hair that laid like a dark cloud around her head. Her eyes sometimes looked as though they could start a fire. She certainly looked like a witch, at least to her classmates.

Hermione had always been proud of who she was and what she look like; her mother was beautiful and people sad that she looked just like her mother. But she began to doubt herself, whenever kids bullied her at recess or snickered about her in class. She began to withdraw herself. Although she still studied hard and continued to excel in her classwork, she stopped raising her hand in class and she became anxious when the kids had to do group work. By the time that Hermione got on bus, to go home, everyday, she was miserable. She sat in an empty seat and stuck her backpack on the side of her. She would bury her nose in a book and hope that her torment for the day would finally come to an end.

Hermione, however never wanted to worry her parents, who she knew always worried. Luckily the teachers had not caught on to the bullying that was happening, so there had been no phone call home to explain what was going on at school. When she got home, she would go straight to her room, throw herself on her bed, and cry. Her parents had always respected her privacy and they must have assumed that she was going straight up to her room to study. After half an hour, she would be able to calm herself down. By the time her parents would come to tell her that dinner was ready, they would find her studying quietly at her desk. Hermione would go downstairs, eat with her parents and discuss all the new things that she had learned at school. Sometimes, her parents asked her about her friends. Hermione would mumble some random names and change the subject.

After dinner, the family would spend an hour or two together, before they would go off to do their nightly routines. This was Hermione’s favorite part of her day, because normally the Grangers would play a game or watch a movie together. Hermione could spend time with her parents without their questions and concerns.  Best of all, she felt so warm when she could hear her parents laugh together. These small moments between her parents were not exactly rare, but Hermione thought each one was beautiful. A quick kiss, holding hands, a slight caress of the cheek. She always hoped for a love as true and strong as theirs. And at this point in her life, she just hoped for any companionship as true as theirs, even if it were simply a friendship.

When Hermione went up to bed, at the end of the night, she always found it hard to sleep. She would lie awake thinking of ways that she could redeem herself in the eyes of her peers. She feared that if she told a teacher, or her parents, the kids would only hate her more. She just wanted the bullying to stop. When Hermione did manage to finally fall asleep, she had nightmares about disembodied laughter following her down the hallways of school. She could never find the source of the laughter, but it was everywhere, and it was dark and dry. She eventually would become trapped by it and be forced to cover her ears and try to find an escape from the school. Each morning, she would wake up panting and sweating.

One day, when she was halfway through grade 4, Hermione decided that enough was enough. No one was going to stop bullying her, unless she stood up for herself. That day, she came to school with her head held high and her fists clenched. During recess, that same day, some kids started to circle around her and became to taunt her. Hermione stood her ground, she was not going to run and hide in the girls’ room like she had in the past. She could feel electricity welling up inside of her, running up and down her spine, she felt a terrifying sort of excitement that made her shudder with anticipation. She had been waiting to stand up for herself for a long time. There was no hiding now.

“Stop it, right now!” She yelled at the four kids who were circling her. The kids faltered for a second. This was the first time that Hermione had ever talked back to someone that was bullying her. Those kids might not have even known what her voice sounded like. It was high and nasally; it rang like a whistle in the ears of those kids. To some, it must have sounded like a threat. They looked at who must have been considered their leader, waiting for some sort of signal of what to do next.   

“Yeah?” The leader said, with his hands on his hips, “what are you gonna do to stop us, witch?”

“I-I w-will -” Hermione stuttered. Her confidence that had been so strong only a few second before, but now that she truly had to defend herself, she felt that confidence failing. She would give anything to disappear, to go back inside and sit in the library with a book. Forget this whole thing. The kids picked up on her fear and started laughing and circling around her again. They shouted out insults and one of the kids even jumped out and gave her a shove. Hermione stumbled and fell onto her knees. Tears began to rim her eyes and her lips trembled. When she closed her eyes, however, she could see a swirl of electricity dancing just behind her eyelids and it made her heart flutter. She knew what it was that was happening, at least she thought she did. She stood and balled her fists. This was the last straw, she would never allow this bullying to ever happen again; she was filled with something strong and dangerous, a power that would help her conquer her bullies, she was sure of it. Later, the group of bullies would swear that this energy made Hermione’s hair float around her, as if she were filled with static. They said that it confirmed that she was a witch.

“I SAID STOP!” She shouted. Her voice carried an invisible force and the leader was pushed to the ground. The four kids looked at her in terror. For a minute there was a silence, everyone involved appear to be frozen in awe. Finally, the kids were able to get up shakily and stumble away. None of them screamed, it was as if it were frozen on their lips. By that time, a crowd of kids had formed and had seen the entire thing happen. She watched as kids began to whisper to each other wide-eyed, a few even ran away, scared that they would be next. Hermione’s confidence had drained once again, along with the static energy that had been feverishly dancing in her arms and legs. Her face flushed and her eyes filled with tears. Then Hermione did what she had promised herself she wasn’t going to do: she ran into the bathroom and locked herself in one of the stalls. She was beginning to realize that things would never change, because she would never change. She was always going to be different, and weird.

Unfortunately, Hermione wasn’t completely correct. Things did change, but they did not improve. Instead of getting bullied, she was left alone. Completely alone.  Hermione was devastated, but she told herself that at least it would be easier to concentrate on her studies, because people were finally leaving her alone. And at least she didn’t have to hide in the girls’ bathroom anymore, because she wasn’t really getting bullied.    

Luckily for Hermione, things would be changing again really soon....

[bigheartbigfart]

October Mood Board

Poem of the month: The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

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Hermione Granger and the New School Ch. 1

Hello, everyone! This is a project that I am so excited about and I hope you will be too. Hermione is such a bad ass and we deserve to read Harry Potter from her perspective! Hope ya like it!

I tried to keep all the facts mostly the same, but I did take some creative liberties, so please keep that in mind!

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⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ Ch. 1  ⛤ Ch.2 ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤ ⛤    

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Hermione being the damn bad ass that she is (well she is a baby in Ch. 1 but like... still...)

Type: Alternate Perspective

Mr. and Mrs. Granger lived a pretty unusual life. Well, at least it was pretty unusual for two dentists. Their life wasn’t always strange; they had been normal up until they decided to have a baby.

The two met in dentistry school and most of their dates ended in late nights studying. All of their friends said that they were perfect for each other - they were both passionate, hardworking, and kind. They decided that they would be married after they graduated, and from the moment that they said “I do”, they knew that they were going to have a perfectly humble life.

Their new life had started out simple The next five years consisted of steady jobs, friday date nights, and home decoration; nothing unusual or exciting ever happened to the couple. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, being the ever practical couple, decided to wait to have children. They wanted time to settle into their new married life and their new home. Most of all, they wanted to save up money, before having a baby, to ensure that he/she would always be well cared for, in a way that the couple had not been in their youth.

Finally, after five years of saving money and late night discussions, the couple decided that it was time to try for a baby. They both hoped for a beautiful baby girl and on September 19th, 1979, their wish came true. They were blessed with their beautiful daughter, Hermione Jean Granger. She was the most beautiful girl that the two had ever laid eyes on; Hermione had brown eyes that glowed amber in the light of the sun; they were warm and welcoming, even as a baby, and Mrs. Granger swore that she could always see a fire burning behind them. Hermione arrived having a full head of curly dark brown hair, just like her mother. She was absolutely perfect. Mr. and Mrs. Granger still say that they knew she was special from the moment they first laid eyes on her.

It was on that day that the Grangers became a complete family.

                                                         * * *

It’s hard to pinpoint when things started to become strange in the Granger household, but Mr. and Mrs. Granger would swear that it was just after Hermione’s first birthday. None of these occurrences ever seemed strange when they were viewed separately, but together a pattern seemed to form. When Hermione began to walk and talk, it just so happened that other things began to move around the house, too. For instance, when Mr. Granger would get ready to leave for work, his keys always went missing. He would place them on the kitchen table, go kiss Hermione and Mrs. Granger goodbye, and when he returned, the keys would be gone. He would look all around the table, then he would look all around the kitchen. Then, right before he truly began to panic about finding them, they keys would reappear in a place that he swore he had already checked.

Another strange things that began to occur was when Mrs. Granger was watching tv or folding laundry while Hermione are lunch, in her highchair. Sometimes, she would hear Hermione’s bottle fall on the ground, but when she went to go pick it up for her, the bottle would still be on the highchair table. Although this happened frequently, Mrs. Granger always assumed that what fell had just been a toy and nothing more.

Occurrences like these ones happened so frequently that Mr. and Mrs. Granger started to joke that their house was haunted… But of course, the two had never really believed in the supernatural. Then, when Hermione was about 3-4 years old, strange people or things would lurk around their house. Sometimes, it would be grown men wearing cloaks, or a woman with a clipboard and an owl, even a cat that seemed to be suspiciously watching their house from time to time. When Hermione finally began school, these people all seemed to go away, but the Grangers would sometimes notice them talking to the administration, in Hermione’s elementary school. The couple just told themselves that they were being paranoid, especially because these people never proved to be dangerous to their family.

These oddities never seemed connected, at least the Grangers had never really been able to make the connections by themselves. Perhaps it was because they forgot about that late August newscast, when Hermione was almost a year old. The one where newscasters revealed that people all over Britain had seen owls during the day and showers of shooting stars that night. If Mr. Granger had been able to remember that day clearly, he would have remembered bumping into a few people with cloaks and funny hats. He would have even remembered a red-headed man, in a similarly strange get-up, coming into the office and asking if he could take pictures of all the dentistry tools. He seemed so utterly fascinated with the whole office that Mr. Granger thought that perhaps the man had never been to the dentist. The only problem with that was that the man had a perfect set of teeth.

None of these things would make sense to the Grangers until a mysterious letter appeared right before Hermione’s 11th birthday.

[bigheartbigfart]

September Mood Board

Poem of the month: The Emperor of Ice-Cream by Wallace Stevens

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D&D Character Chart

I am using the official D&D lore as a guide for this character)

This character chart includes a name, race, physical features, personality, personal inventory, and an extensive backstory!

This character turned out so much different than how I envisioned him. As I started writing, he began to change. I might even upload another character chart for him, but as I originally envisioned him! 

Like this character and want one for your next campaign? Support me on Fiverrr:

https://www.fiverr.com/bigheartbigfart

Name: Soveliss Holimion

Race: Elf (High Elf)

Physical Features: Like all elves, Soveliss is tall and slender. As both a Grey Elf and the son of a well known [rich family], Soveliss has the look of royalty; high cheek bones and strikingly blue almond shaped eyes. Women and men alike are fond of his feminine traits: he has long eye lashes and full lips, and most enviously his porcelain skin. It is clear that Soveliss has never acquired a scar in his long, sheltered life. His long, blonde, almost sparkling hair cascades down his shoulders and is fashioned everyday by his housemaids. Although Soveliss would never admit it, he is fond of wearing makeup and expensive jewelry.

Personality: To put things simply, Soveliss has a superiority complex. Although this is not uncommon for high elves, Soveliss’ superiority over others seems to reach new heights. Many would say that this is because he grew up rich, and frankly spoiled. His quest mates argue that it is just who he is. Despite Soveliss’ outwardly unlikeable characteristics, he has very charming feminine qualities. He loves nature and beautiful things, and he can often be found in his family’s garden writing poetry. His poetry, just like him, is completely and utterly dramatic and he loves to recite it at the most inappropriate times. He likes to say, to anyone who asks (or more accurately anyone at all), that he loves to fall in love with beautiful people. Yes. He is saying that he is bisexual. And he likes to charm just about anyone that he deems “beautiful”, which is really anyone of any race.

Personal Inventory: A bunch of ridiculously expensive things. Take your pick. There are a lot of things. He certainly is no monk.

Backstory: Soveliss grew up as an only child in a beautiful castle that his parents owned. This meant that Soveliss was always surrounded by high society adults, and therefore was always showered with rich attention and gifts. This has gone to his head, very clearly. And you will find this out very soon. Most elves are given a child’s name, until they declare themselves adults, and then they get an adult name, but Soveliss always has been known as Soveliss. His parents did not have time for the frivolity of the elvish culture and just gave him an adult name.

For elves with no time for nonsense, some would think that they were cursed to have a child like Soveliss. He was as wild and dramatic as a child could be, and that flare for dramatics is still very much alive, in his adulthood. His parents always comment on how grateful they are to be rich and to be able to afford as much childcare as possible. Soveliss’ favorite things to play with the nannies were dress up or any game that had him as the center of attention. When Soveliss began to reach adulthood, it was clear to his parents that he did not plan to outgrown his dramatic tendencies and this became a problem. He would wear outrageous clothes to royal parties, make a fool of himself at local inns, and he would often be brought home by the authorities, when his partying would get out of hand.

Eventually his parents decided that they had had enough of their son’s blatant disregard for societal rules. On Soveliss’ 112th birthday, his parents decided to cut him off from their money. He was informed that he would only be allowed to get the money back, if he committed at least 20 years of his life to questing and travelling. His parents hoped that his time working would give him a chance to become more mature and eventually be able to take an official seat in government.

Soveliss lost his sense of self for a while. He would wander from town to town getting locals to buy him drinks and would party until he was kicked out. Usually, he would end the night by sleeping on the street or going home with a beautiful stranger. He was able to get a few wealthy suitors for a year and live off of their generosity, but it was not the life that he wanted to live. He even tried desperately to go back home, but his parents refused to take him back in. This time in his life was not one that Soveliss looks back very fondly on. It is a time in his life that he rarely even talks about to other people.

Finally, after so many months of fighting the fate that his parents had forced him into, Soveliss decided to take on a quest. This is where you meet him. He thinks that this quest looks interesting, at least, so he decided that he might as well take it on (to be honest, he was running out of money and was tired, hungry, and trying to get over his withdrawals from drugs and alcohol). Although Soveliss is fighting his inner demons, he will try desperately never to show your party. He appears to be the same dramatic and flamboyant elf that he has always been. Behind that exterior, however, are dark secrets and a broken man.  

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♕   Master List ♕                                   ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

Poetry

♡ Romance  ♡

Some Sweet Garden 

Sweet Sun

★ Familial/Platonic Love  ★

My Mother

☂ Sad Poems   ☂

A Familiar Hand

Bound

Voicemail

One Bedroom

Fan Fiction

⚢ Smut  ⚣ 

Past Curfew  (Harry Potter: Hermione x Draco)

Ch. 1  

👀 Alternate Universe/Perspective 👀

Hermione Granger and the New School 

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Character Charts

⚔ D&D  ⚔

Ramas (Half-Orc)

Soveliss (High Elf)

Mood Boards

2018

August (This is Just to Say) 

September (The Emperor of Ice-Cream)

October (The Raven)

[bigheartbigfart]

Past Curfew Ch. 1

Hi guys! This is my first fanfic that I have ever written! This blog is not going to be strictly fanfiction, I am going to continue to post poetry, character charts, and other creative writing. So, if fanfiction is not your cup of tea, don’t worry! 

Although I will not always be posting fanfiction that has sexual content (I have a lot of plans for fanfiction that is not even necessarily romantic) I will also be very cautious to add a nsfw tag and the like, to make sure that if you have this kind of thing blocked, that it will not come up on your feed. 

Again, I am just starting these types of posts; please be patient, but also please give me feed back if there are things that I can do better with. 

Lastly, here is my fiverrr if you want to commission a fanfiction or other creative writing: https://www.fiverr.com/bigheartbigfart

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Hermione x Draco

Type: smut (not too much monologue, just kinda goes right into it... You’re welcome...)

Hermione knew that she shouldn't be doing this. But she had finished studying for the day and there were still an hour until students were expected to be in bed. Therefore, she wasn't breaking any rules by being there. Still...

“I shouldn't be here”, Hermione mumbled to herself; she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks and a shiver danced down her spin. She could not deny, however, that she wanted to be there. Oh, she wanted to be there so badly.

A few minutes passed and she started to get antsy. And honestly, she was starting to feel pretty foolish. Of course Malfoy isn't going to show up, she thought. He must be stringing her along, for one big joke that he could use against her for the next few weeks. Her brows knitted and she started to pace. “I'm not waiting any longer for that idiot”, she whispered indignantly. She turned swiftly on her heels to come face to face with a pair of impish green eyes.

“Going somewhere, Granger?” Draco smirked, his eyes greedily dropping to her lips. Hermione's face flushed.

“I was just leaving!” Hermione tried to sound passive, as if she had not just been waiting for him for the past 20 minutes, and had spent an hour before that getting ready for this… Date? She wasn't quite sure what it was. But the word 'date’ made her heart beat faster. She knew what Malfoy liked to do on dates.

“Hey, come on now!” Malfoy began to say playfully, “you said you would help me… study.” Yes, that is what he had called it in the note he had passed her, in class, earlier that day. However, he asked her to meet him in what the Slytherin nicknamed “The Dirty Dungeon”. It was the darkest and emptiest part of the castle. Most of the rooms were full of old cauldrons and brooms; hardly anyone went down there, not even the ghosts wandered down this part of the dungeon.

Hermione may be inexperienced, but she was not stupid. She knew he didn't really want to study. “Well, you made me wait long enough and -” Malfoy grabbed her arm and spun her around. Instinctively, she pulled out her wand and with the flick of the wrist, he was pushed into the wall of the corridor.

Hermione let out a small gasp, she was such an idiot. She looked up at Draco, however, and a grin had appeared on his face. He licked his lips, as he looked her up and down, Hermione could feel herself getting wet. It felt pretty good to send Malfoy into that wall, and despite her wildly beating heart, Hermione was feeling braver.

Hermione made her way slowly to Draco, savoring the hungry look he was giving her. She finally stopped when her chest was pressed against his and their faces we're only inches apart.

“Malfoy, I know what you are trying to do”, she said sharply.

“Granger, no, I'm-”

Before Draco could finish his thought, Hermione grabbed his face and pulled his lips down to hers. Hermione became wet just thinking  of the power she had, in this moment. She could no longer hear her heartbeat, it became drowned out by their hungry kissing. She grabbed Draco by his belt and pulled him to the closest door. She fumbled with the door handle, her other hand, still gripping his belt.

“Fuck”, Hermione moaned quietly, in Draco’s ear, when she realized the door was locked.

“A swear, coming from your mouth, Granger?” Draco teased, his hard cock was throbbing against her leg. The next thing she knew, he lifted her up and pressed her against the door. Her legs wrapped around him tightly. His hands roughly pushed up her skirt and slipped into her underwear, grabbing her bare ass. The bulge in Draco’s pants pressed between her trembling thighs.

Hermione couldn't help it, she let out a loud moan. She fumbled for her wand and pointed it at the lock. The two stumbled into the room, Draco carrying her to the nearest desk and placing her on top. He began kissing down Hermione's neck, as he unbuttoned her shirt, savoring the moans that escaped from her mouth, with each new hickey he gave her. Draco hesitantly drew away from her,

“Hermione, are you sure you want to do this?” He said in a strangely sweet tone. “I-I know you don't normally do this, but-” Hermione's heart beat wildly and she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I knew what I was getting into, when you gave me that note. Of course, I want this. But first…” she gave him a mischievous smile and slowly guided his head downwards.

Draco returned her smile and got down on his knees, letting his hands slowly make their way down her stomach, then he slipped his arms underneath her thighs and pulled her closer with a swift tug. A loud moan escaped Hermione's mouth. He used his fingers to move her underwear aside, then rested his hands on her hips. Hermione shuddered with anticipation, but Draco made sure to take his time. He started first by kissing Hermione's stomach, the gentleness of his lips gave Hermione goosebumps and she let out a soft sigh.

“Tell me what you want, Granger” Draco whispered.

Hermione ran her hands through his hair and moaned, “Please, please keep going”.

He squeezed Hermione's hips, “tell me exactly what you want, Granger.” He said with a hint of playfulness.

Hermione's face flushed and she could feel herself getting wetter, almost dripping onto the desk. “I-I want you to eat me out.”

Draco lower his head and began to use his tongue to play with her clit. Hermione moaned Draco's name and she could feel the pleasure that it gave him. Once Hermione was unable to control her desperate moaning, Draco let one hand drop from her hip and with two fingers entered Hermione's hot, wet pussy. He began to slowly thrust, finding Hermione's sensitive spots and savoring her heavy sighs. Hermione's thighs trembled and her back began to arch.  

“Oh, Draco”, Hermione moaned. He smiled to himself.

Malfoy stood up and lifted Hermione's chin up to look at him, his lips glistening. “I could get used to this, Granger.”

Hermione smiled and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him towards her, kissing him on the lips. Draco pulled away just enough to whisper, “and we haven't even gotten to the good stuff, yet.” It was then Hermione could feel his hard cock pressing against her, begging to be released from his pants. Hermione bit her lip, she could definitely get used to this.

She let her hands slowly find their way to Malfoy’s waistband and unbuttoned his pants, then pulled down the zipper, savoring the quickening of Draco's breath. She finally began to stroke his cock, noting just how big it actually was, and wanting it inside her even more. Through gasping breaths, Draco began to beg her to put his cock inside her. He tugged her underwear off and threw it aside. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and positioned herself, “I want you.” She moaned.

She felt Draco’s tip enter her wet pussy and let out a loud sigh, her thighs trembled. She was ready for his full girth.

Suddenly, Hermione heard her name being called from right outside the door. She pushed Malfoy away and desperately tried to button up her blouse, as she heard the voice getting closer. Draco looked equally as frazzled as he quickly zipped up his pants and tried to straighten himself up. Hermione and Draco looked at each other for a second, unsure what to do, but finally Hermione decided to push him behind some old cauldrons where he would be hidden. She gave him a quick kiss and grinned, “don’t you dare make a sound or I will never help you study again.” Draco grinned back and crouched down to hide.

“Uh - I’m right… here!” Hermione said, peeking cautiously from behind the door.

“Oh! There you are!” Ron appeared, looking relieved to have finally found her. “I heard that Draco was going to play some prank on you down here, and I came to get you! Are you okay? Is that royal prick here?” Ron tried to look around her shoulder.

Hermione's face turned red and she began to stutter, “uh, nope. He-He must have been too much of a coward to show up.”

Ron looked her up and down for a second, “Hermione, are you okay? You -” Hermione cut him off quickly, “yes, yes, Ron! Let-Let me just get my stuff and I will follow you up!” She began to turn around but paused, “STAY HERE.”

She ran over to where Draco was hiding, “wait ten minutes then you can come out.” He was smiling deviously at her, looking her up and down.

“Maybe you’ll see me again, tonight, Granger.” he said. Hermione blushed and turned around to go follow Ron, “Don't you get us in trouble, Malfoy!” She whispered back, but it was clear she was smiling. Draco smacked her ass as she ran off, making her let out a little yelp. She glared at him and stuck her tongue out, just as she closed the door behind her.

“Did I hear you say something in there, Hermione?” Ron asked as they began to walk back to the dormitories.

“Must have been a ghost! Let’s go to bed, Ron.” She replied with a little smile, knowing she probably wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

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A poem about heartbeats and heart breaks.

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