ilovechristopheralexandershaw

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

Not in a great place right now, so have some angst.

~

“How do I do this?”

Remus turns his head, legs dangling and stretched out over the roof of the house. They were on watch together, him and Sirius, the night slowly bleeding into day, streaks of gold and pink.

Sirius was leaning back on his forearms, his sleeves rolled up to show his tattoos. Remus stares, at the blank ink on his arm, the phases of the moon outlined in painstaking detail on his flesh.

“How do I...” Sirius trails off. “God.”

Hesitantly, Remus reaches over, places his hand on Sirius’ back. Sirius flinches at the contact, muscles tensing underneath his skin, and Remus lifts his hands.

“Sorry.”

Sirius shakes his head. His eyes are closed, mouth set in a thin, hard line. “It’s not you. It’s not anyone, actually. It’s just...” He waves his hands vaguely; at the stars, at the sky, at the rolling hills and forests in front of them. “This. All of this shit.”

Remus frowns. “I think it’s quite nice, actually.”

“Smartass.” Sirius shrugs. “I meant the war. All the fighting and killing and blood.” He coughs. “You know, for just a moment I forgot. It was just you and me, up on the roof and we could have been anyone. 2 students, getting high amongst the clouds, people with actually lives ahead of us - “

“We have lives ahead of us.”

Sirius shakes his head. “I used to dream of things I wanted. It started off simple, when I was younger. New brooms, new robes, ear piercings and tattoos. Then I fell in love with you - hell I was always in love with you - and I dreamt about us. I always thought we’d have some cottage, you know, somewhere far out in the hills where we could do whatever the fuck we wanted and you could transform...”

“And?” Remus says. “What do you dream of now?”

Sirius laughs, bitterly. “Me? I dream of blood and bones and twisted bodies. I dream of all the people I’ve killed and all the people I will kill and sometimes they all come to drag me down to hell. And I dream about surfing, day by day, hoping I don’t suddenly just drop down dead.”

He sniffs, roughly wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“It’s just that...sometimes I wonder what’s the point. We’re all going to die someday - tomorrow or next week or next month. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t just end it. Hold a wand to my head, blow my brains out. The Order is doomed - you know it as well as I do Re. We’re not getting out of this alive.”

Something hit and tight fills Remus’ chest, like sand had been shoved down his throat. “Then? What’s stopping you?”

Sirius flashes him a smile, sad and loving and so, so beautful, like a thousand radiant suns. “You, Re,” he says. “I live for you.”

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

Bitter Transmutation : Cruel Transformation -21-

Tags: eighth year, drarry, angst, assault, bullying, violence, illness, enemies to lovers, harry with long hair, magic theory, veela history/world building, veela draco, book veelas, fairy tale inspirations, -no feathers-, -no mates/bonding-, dysphoria related to physical/magical changes, Fenrir Greyback, werewolves, hurt/comfort, romantic tension, emotional and romantic intimacy, slow burn, pining, longing, happy ending

suggested rating: 18+, for heavy themes and violence

<– Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <–Part 20 || 

-

(continued from previous part)

Harry counted to ten in his head, taking a few deep breaths and then did his best to get on with it. He transfigured a plate into a serving tray and carried up all the tea things, jingling and rattling with every slightly shaky step.

“You like your tea sweet?” Harry asked, setting the tray on the edge of the table and filling the mug.

Malfoy opened his eyes just enough to see, “Thought you left.”

“Err, no…” Harry said. He cleared his throat, “Your tea?”

“One sugar,” Malfoy said.

“Only one?” Harry asked, dropping in a single sugar cube and stirring it in, trying not to bang the spoon against the sides too much.

Malfoy nodded. He squirmed back onto his pillow, so he was slightly propped up, keeping the sheet tucked tightly under his armpits.

“Do you want any more pillows?” Harry asked.

“ ‘M not going to be up that long,” Malfoy said irritably, holding his hands out for the mug.

Harry passed it over, “It’s hot.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, blowing on the tea before taking a sip.

“…I could conjure some more pillow if you wanted them or blankets, whatever you want,” Harry said.

“I don’t like conjured pillows,” Malfoy said, sounding like his younger self, spoiled and whiny.

Harry turned on his heel, acioing his own pillow from the cot downstairs, “You could have this one.”

Malfoy stared at him, his cup frozen a breath away from his mouth, “Your pillow?”

“Yeah? It’s not conjured,” Harry said.

Malfoy’s face went slightly redder, perhaps from his fever or the tea which he set aside, sliding back into bed, “…fine.” He held out a hand and took Harry’s pillow, placing it next to his own.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” Harry asked.

Malfoy shrugged faintly, “More water. A stasis charm to keep the tea warm.”

Harry did both and waited hopefully for more direction. “…is there-”

“You can go away now. It’ll be over soon enough,” Malfoy said, waving him off and closing his eyes.

Harry hesitated and then took a step back, “…Alright, I’m gonna go for a bit. I’ll be back later.”

Malfoy made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.

Harry nodded to himself and hurried down the stairs.

-

Draco sighed.

There was a sinking feeling in his chest that he dimly recognised as guilt. He had gone too far with the scars. He knew, unfortunately well, that the guilty feeling would only grow as time went on.

He almost missed back before fifth year when being rude and cruel had been easy, and he hadn’t felt bad about anything he had done. Now, even those memories had weight to them.

Draco shifted against the sheets. The restless itch that he couldn’t scratch was spreading, down his back and arms, he clenched his hands in anticipation of the feeling tingling through his fingers. It felt like it was under his skin like it was reaching to his very marrow, twitching, growing, changing him-

He shuddered and reached up, pulling Potter’s pillow down, hugging it tight to his chest and burying his face in the pillowcase, trying to memorise the scent caught in the fabric. After a moment, he reached under his own pillow, fishing around until he found the blue hair band and slipping it back around his wrist. Draco felt himself flush again, embarrassed at even the thought he might be seen being so foolish. But it was too nice not to.

-

“What do you mean, there’s nothing?” Harry said in disbelief.

Pomfrey spared him a look as she moved to the next bed, a wordless charm pulling the dirty sheets off and another charm putting on clean ones from the pile floating by her shoulder, “It’s not an illness, it’s a natural process. I can’t heal him of it.”

“Yeah, but there has to be something that makes it easier,” Harry said.

“I have sent Mr Malfoy a rather diverse selection of potions and his very extensive letters in return have thoroughly explained that none of them has had anything more than a mild and fairly temporary effect,” Pomfrey said.

Harry winced, “He’s- yeah. So nothing, then.”

Pomfrey stared at the bed with a much put-upon expression before sighing and turned to Harry, “I can give you a couple pepper-ups, they seemed to reduce the fever slightly and teach you a charm to freshen his sheets and pyjama’s so they don’t get too unpleasant from sweat.”

Harry walked over as Pomfrey held her wand out and demonstrated the spell twice before having Harry practice it on a few of the unchanged beds himself. She patted Harry’s shoulder, “Just keep him as comfortable as you can manage, that’s the best advice I can offer.”

-

“Just keep him-? That’s it?” Hermione groaned in frustration, “Can anyone here manage anything without magic?!”

“Err-” Harry held up a hand.

“It’s like if you can’t fix it instantly, then why bother even trying?” Hermione said mockingly.

“Hermione,” Harry said, glancing around the hall nervously as students glanced over to see what the fuss was about.

“Maybe if they ignore it hard enough, it will just go away!” Hermione said even louder.

“Hermione, c’mon, I agree it’s shit, but right now I need some advice, not a lecture on the history of magical medical care,” Harry said.

Hermione let out a huge sigh, deflating from her righteous fury.

“Here, I’ll walk with you to the great hall,” Harry said, turning Hermione by the shoulder to get her started in the right direction.

Hermione gave him a glare but started down the hall anyway, “So Malfoy’s illness doesn’t respond to potions at all?”

“A little, not much, it’s tricky,” Harry said.

Hermione said, terribly unsubtly, “I could be more helpful if you told me what was wrong-”

Harry shook his head, “Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” Hermione said.

“Besides, I need advice about what muggles do when they’re sick, not magic folk,” Harry said.

“Well, what did your-” Hermione cut herself off, “Nevermind, forget I asked.”

“Yeah. I kinda wanted to know what people who actually care do,” Harry said lightly.

Hermione reached over, giving Harry’s hand a sympathetic squeeze, “Well, I’ll tell you everything my parents did…”

-

♡ Next update will be tuesday, 12-6 pm pst ♡

♡ Tags below ♡  (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous part.)

Keep reading

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

ijgrefejhreuewrifeofufeijfojkndifo

https://www.myinstants.com/instant/minecraft-villager-sound/

Favourite candy/sweet......Haribo or sour worms or something I guess? Don’t eat many sweets, so idk, but I do like those. A few chewy sweets, actually, except for this bad boy

Monster - aaghhh........hmmm...idk. Myself? oh wait i don’t like myself. 

oh you meant those monsters. Err, werewolves? 

Nah, seriously, prolly a witch or something. Nice black outfit and a flying broom? yUP.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand violent death? Depends on what counts as violent :) (probably)

@comaraudery @gxldensnitched @dracogotgame @mfingenius and anyone else who’d like to do it 

Halloween asks, Tag 5 your friends (if you want too!)

I was tagged by the wonderful @harleyhype to:

List your favourite candy/sweet, favourite monster, and whether or not you expect to die a violent death (lol!)

My favourite candy/sweet/chocolate is probably Cadbury with Daim pieces in it! Sweet and salty, mmmmm!

My favourite monster is probably vampires!

And I HIGHLY doubt I will suffer a violent death!

Tagging: @rockmarina @rose-grangerweasleyisbae @ununquadius @spaceaas @dewitty1 @midsummerdancer @spaceaas @ilovechristopheralexandershaw and @queer-papayas! No pressure if you don’t want too! <3

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

These are back until September 30!

[Tees | Hoodies | Sweatshirts | Mugs]

https://teespring.com/stores/writing-prompts

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

🔽

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

OMG they were roommates

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

Scorpius: I like this boy… What should I do?

Draco: Well, the last time I liked a boy, I bullied him and his friends for seven years

Scorpius: I’ll ask mum

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

A soulmate Drarry idea?

So…I’m a sucker for soulmate stuff, and I’ve been thinking about soulmate ideas all day, and I’m enamoured with the idea that the Horcrux fragment would screw with soulmate pairing, sooooo I wrote a thing?

What if Harry can’t pair with a soulmate until after that fragment of Voldemort’s soul is removed from him and all traces of soul within him are entirely his own?

OPEN ENDED, LIKE WAY OPEN, THEY DON’T GET TOGETHER WITHIN THE TEXT, YOU GOTTA USE YOUR IMAGINATION

—

The battle was long over. An hour? Two? Three? Harry didn’t know. Time just seemed to drag on. Most Death Eaters had just dropped their wands and surrendered when word spread that Voldemort was dead. Others fought on.

When the fighting was over, everyone had turned to finding the bodies, laying them out in the Great Hall.

Harry had walked in, then turned and walked back out. He lingered in the courtyard instead, watching people talk. He didn’t know what to do, and some of that must have shown, or maybe he was glaring about it without realising, because people gave him a wide berth he hadn’t expected to get.

Until Ron and Hermione emerged from the hall, talking quietly. Ron swiped at his eyes and then grinned too-brightly at Harry as they wandered over. The sight of his forced-cheer made Harry want to be sick. The sight of anyone’s cheer and relief turned his stomach. People were dead. Dozens and dozens of them laid out in the hall they used to eat in.

His only consolation was that he still had no colours. The black smears everywhere were meant to be red, whatever that meant. Instead they were just like shadows, and he could pretend the sun would come out and banish them away at any moment.

“We’ve been looking for you,” Hermione said when they reached his side. “The house elves have brought out some food and drink. You should come eat something.”

“Where? Among the dead?” Harry said without thinking, his tone bitter.

Hermione flinched away from him.

“They opened the kitchens up,” Ron mumbled, his false cheer sliding off his face to reveal the grief beneath it. “One of the walls just opened up. Didn’t know it could do that.”

“Funnily enough, I’m not hungry,” Harry said.

It wasn’t fair and he knew it, but of all people, he shouldn’t have to pretend around Hermione and Ron, even if Ron was trying to pretend with him.

“Go on without me,” he said dismissively.

“Harry,” Ron said, his voice catching, like all that grief he was trying and failing to hide was going to spill out.

“Look,” Hermione hissed. “They’re finally clearing the Death Eaters out.”

Harry didn’t want to look, but found himself doing so anyway. He scanned over the robes and faces, the identities revealed once the masks were stripped away. They crossed the courtyard under heavy Auror guard.

He was about to look away, but then a familiar figure caught his eye. Malfoy walked with his head down at the end of the line, two Aurors behind him with their wands trained on his back. As if feeling Harry’s gaze, he looked up and over at him.

Still so tired and angry, Harry expected a surge of rage upon seeing him again.

Instead, as their eyes met, the world burst into colour.

—-

I spend way too much time thinking about all the ways the Horcrux might interfere with soulmate stuff tbh first time I’ve tried to jot any of it down though.

I know I’m gonna get nagged about it, and I agree, this needs to be a longer story, but writing is too much of a struggle for me these days so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this is what you get

*sigh* soulmate angst is my favourite kind of angst 

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

tumblr is great because I know the plotline of at least fifteen different tv series without ever having seen an episode

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

yall haven’t written the next chapter of ur fanfic and it really shows

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

People don't mention Draco might not be a Weasley by blood, but he's family enough so i'm just gonna say PEOPLE YOU NEED TO READ IT ITS SO SOFT AND PURE AND IT HAS ANGST AND DRACOS A FUCKING HUFFLEPUFF GET THAT AND RON IS LIKE THE CUTE PROTECTIVE OLDER BRO AND GINNY AND OMG. HARRY. HARRY, GUYS, HE'S - FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF *dEEP BREATH* HARRY. HE - IT'S AN EVERYONE LIVES AU

Omg babe thanks so much!! honestly I have a love-hate relationship with that fic bc I was stuck for such a long time with it but now that it’s so near its ending I’m in tears :(((

I’m so so glad to hear u guys like it bc I love it soo much even tho it’s like an au of the au of the au

thanks so much for all your comments <33333

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

on the first day of class my astronomy professor asked us why the night sky was dark. if our universe is infinite, how can there be spaces between the stars? he didn’t answer the question until the last day– because our universe is relatively young, and is still growing. it is finite. not enough stars or galaxies have been formed to fill up the entire night sky.

but what that means to me is that somewhere, in an older universe, the night sky looks like a tapestry of diamonds. somewhere darkness is pale white and glittering. imagine being so surrounded. i haven’t gotten that image out of my head ever since– you could never navigate under such a sky but god it sounds lovely

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

When you learned of the god of war, you thought he’d be tall and muscular and angry. When you were about to meet him, you braced yourself for the worst.

You weren’t quite expecting the short, scrawny, shy kid you ended up getting instead.

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

“We’re done!” Sirius yells, as he chases Remus around the tower, ducking around armchairs and springing over couches. He’s drenched, from the bucket of water that had been upended over his head, rivers running down his face like tear drops. They’re both damaged, both scarred, but for one brief moment they’re eleven years old, chasing each other around like nothing else matters, and Remus squeals as he shouts back over his shoulder, “No we’re not!”

~

“We’re done?” Remus whispers, his heart contracted in fear. He’s curled up against the wall, hugging his knees; fresh blood stains through the bandages on his wrists and ribs and neck. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, everything slowly going in and out of focus as he tried not to burst in tears.

They knew. They knew he was a werewolf, knew he was a monster, and now they were going to tell everyone, get him kicked out of Hogwarts -

He looks up, into the stormy grey sea of Sirius’ eyes, determined even at 12 years old. “No,” Sirius tells him. “We’re not.”

~

They’re in the common room, bent over that stupid piece of parchment they had been trying to enchant for days. The edges are torn and ripped, long worn down; Remus swears as his arm jolts, sending a streak of ink across what used to be the Ravenclaw tower. “Fuck!”

“Let’s take a break,” Sirius suggests. “We’re done.”

He jabs at the paper with his wand - with a flash of light, he sees the ink spin, shifting around in a medley of colors before sinking back into the page.

Remus shakes his head. He glances at the clock - it’s 3 in the morning, and third years had the first block for breakfast. Still, he reached for the paper, his jaw clenched. “No. We’re not.”

~

Remus is crying, bent over on the floor, clutching Sirius’ hand so tightly that he thinks his finger might break. He’s bent over double, coughing blood up o the floor; Sirius winces as he sees a bone start to pop up in his back, sees the skin starting to stretch and blood seeping through -

“Sirius,” Remus says, his voice hoarse. “Sirius, I’m about to transform. Go. We’re done.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t abandon Remus, locked in this shack with chains around his ankles, left to bite and claw and cut himself.

Sirius takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. “No. We’re not.”

~

They’re kissing, on the rooftop, wrapped up in each other. Fingers burried in hair, hands underneath each other’s shirts and jackets, tracing scars and scabs and bruises. Remus almost feels dizzy, like the stars are raining down on top of them, like all his dreams were crashing into one another because they were. He thought he was flying, thought that he could close his eyes and jump, float up to the moon with Sirius in his arms.

Sirius pulls back, leaving him dazed. One hand gingerly reaches up, to brush against his swollen lips - he winces at the puffiness he finds there. “We’re done?”

Sirius smiles, and God, Remus loved his smile, sunlight and moonlight and the stars. “No,” he whispers. “We’re not.”

~

“We’re done!” Remus screams.

He’s in the hospital bed, blood running down from the cuts on his arm, wrapped up in so many bandages he looks like a ghost. Sirius stands at the foot, nails carving bloody furrows into his skin, his heart breaking apart into thousands of pieces

“Remus, please, let me explain - “

“We,” Remus says again; his face is pale, his eyes anguished. “Are done. You fucked this up, Sirius. Don’t come begging back to me. We are done.”

Sirius closes his eyes, feels the tears start to flow. No, he thinks. We’re not.

~

We’re done, echoes the voices.

Sirius groans, curled up in his cell, the moon shining high through the bars on the window. The tattoos on his arm glow faintly in the moonlight - he knew that somewhere outside Remus was transforming, was turning into the beast of fur and claws and teeth, the beast he always hated.

The dementors press closer, the whispering in his head growing louder. Sirius clenches his jaw as the noises start to play, a careful symphony of agony;

You’re a disgrace.

They died because of you.

How could you kill Lily and James?

The words swim round and round, making Sirius want to scream. He bites his lip, hard, tries not to shake as the dementor presses closer. We’re done.

“No,” Sirius croaks, alone in his cell. “We’re not.”

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

SPOILERS FOR TYRANT’S TOMB

ASDFGHJKL WE MAY GET A GREEK/ROMAN/EGYPTIAN/NORSE CROSSOVER STORY BECAUSE THEY HAD TO RESCUE THAT EGYPTIAN GOD AND EVERYTHING CROSSES OVER SO NICELY ASDFGHJKL I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THIS!