#I’m a serious wizard. no one else needs to take me seriously. But I myself want to be definitely sure me The Wizard as a force of nature

[raubtierfuetterung]

I hate being a girl

[evereverest2]

@ofthemorningstars commented on my q&a post and i wanted to make a general little post for ALL of you aspiring writers.

i’ve talked to people who wanted to start writing many times before, who have said to me “your writing is so good, and i wish i could do it like you”. i always say the same thing to them:

cut bc this is long lol

the number one first thing you need to know when you start writing is that it has to be yours. it is a world entirely your own, of your design, your unique and wonderful imagination, and it must make YOU happy. don’t compare urself to me, dont compare urself to tolstoy, don’t compare urself to shakespeare. the things you make can only be made by you, even if they’re inspired by something else, even if they’re fanfic. every story, movie, song, painting, etc. is derivative of something else, that’s just bc there’s so many talented humans. that doesn’t mean they aren’t unique creations on their own. that doesn’t mean you’re copying someone.

the biggest roadblock to writing—and any art really—is your own mind. you will kill urself with negativity, telling urself that it isn’t good enough, that it is awkward, that it is derivative, that it does not deserve to be read. i struggle with that all the time, but generally that’s to my own standards and not another authors. this is what i mean when u say u can’t compare urself—

YOU HAVE SO MUCH CREATIVITY TO OFFER THE WORLD.

YOU.

you are amazing. everything you create is special. i could never write what you write, and you could never write what i write. we are humans who grow up in vastly different lives, with experiences that shape the way we think and create and inspire. we have different opinions, relationships, and memories that will shine through in our individual works.

when we write, we leave the unique and beautiful pieces of ourselves in the text.

and you need to remember that.

the second thing i tell people to focus on is time.

i’m gonna expose myself on main here and show you a snippet of a fanfic i wrote when i was 13

yeah that’s fucking embarrassing. what an introduction bro. people totally get tattoos when they’re 15.

the point being that you don’t start writing like a wizard day one. this excerpt was about a year into my writing and i was a middle schooler. you look at that and you wouldn’t expect the author of little monster.

so if writing is something you want to do and you’re passionate for, even as a hobby, you need to sit down and do that often. VERY often. serious and even average authors write EVERY DAY. even if it’s just one sentence. writing is an easily accessible hobby that has a HIGH ceiling for “being good” at it and an even tougher path to the professional level. anyone can write, and everyone does. whether those are emails or smutty fanfics, it’s just a fact of life. if it’s something you want to improve at, take it seriously. so many people write a few stories and call it day, saying they suck and they’ll never improve. well, i’ll tell you now, you’ll never feel good about your writing until you take it seriously.

and if it’s casual for u, that’s totally fine! i won’t tell u that u HAVE to write everyday. not even i do that !! (though it is most days). but that doesn’t mean it’s something you don’t have to work on. imagine if you wanted to learn an instrument— if you only learned a few songs, if you only practice once in a blue moon, would you call urself a musician? even if u never wanted to join a band, would you call yourself a guitarist because you learned four chords?

you’ll never be happy with ur art unless u practice. and it will suck, i assure you. but you need to be patient. you have to be bad first to be good.

so, in summation of all these things i’ve learned both on my own and in studying creative writing, i’ll leave you with this (and i know this post is a fucking mess lmao)

you are the most special and unique person in the world, because only you can tell the stories in your head. just give yourself the time and patience to get there.

i believe in you.

[slyttherins]

Meeting the Weasleys | Bill Weasley x Reader

Summary: The reconstitution of the Order of the Phoenix bring Bill back to England to help his family and others fight against Voldemort. Bill takes you along and you meet his family...who has no idea he has a girlfriend

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1880

-

Muggle transport sucked. Especially planes. Fascinating transportation system, but why must they take so long to get to places? Portkeys were much faster.

Usually, when going to his family home, Bill would use a portkey to the Burrow, but as the Weasleys had temporarily moved to the new Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, there was no point going there. There was also no portkey available to Grimmauld Place since it was a secret house.

A plane was the only option.

''You didn't tell your family you wouldn't be coming alone?!''

Bill slung his satchel bag over his shoulder, thankful for the extension charm. ''Erm, no. I wasn't going to announce to them that I have a girlfriend through a letter, it doesn't sound really serious.''

For that, he wasn't wrong.

''We can't just show up together on the doorstep, Bill.''

Suddenly, you started re-evaluating your decision to come to England and think it was a bad idea. It's not like you and Bill were old friends. You had never met his family. What if his mom was angry for not warning her he was bringing his girlfriend? Would this put you on her bad side?

Bill shrugged, seeing no issues. ''Why not? Mom won't mind. She'll be so happy to see me that she'll forget to be mad for not telling her about you. It'll be fine, Y/N.''

As you expected, it didn't go like Bill had planned. He was a fool to think he could trick his mother like that. Molly was furious.

At first, she was confused. Then, she thought Bill had brought a friend to help with the Order - they could always use more wizards and witches on their side. But, when he introduced you as his girlfriend, her mood changed and she started scolding his oldest for not telling her something so important - even swatted his arm with the spoon she was holding. Ouch.

Bill too had been surprised by his mother's reaction, having not been talked to in that tone since his teenage years.

''William Arthur Weasley, how could you do that? You disappear in Egypt for six years and come back with a surprise girlfriend and expect me to not get mad and act as if it's nothing important? How long have you been hiding this from us? I'm your mother, how could you hide this from me?'' her voice boomed through Grimmauld Place. It was like getting a real-life howler. Pretty scary.

Once Mrs. Weasley was finished, she turned to you, her facial expression completely changed, and smiled warmly. ''Sorry about that, dear. Some people have no manners and assumes they can't be scolded after leaving the nest.'' She narrowed her eyes at Bill. ''I'm Molly, Bill's mother...but I'm sure you've caught that already. What's your name?''

''Y/N,'' you introduced. ''I'm sorry for coming unnoticed. I kept telling Bill it wasn't a great idea.''

''Don't feel bad, it's all forgiven.'' The plump woman smiled warmly at you. ''Would you like some biscuits? I just took a batch out of the oven.''

.

After eating some biscuits in the kitchen and chatting a bit with Mrs. Weasley - Bill was trying to be forgiven -, you and Bill took your luggages upstairs and went to put everything away. There weren't a lot of rooms left - a lot of members of the Order had taken residency at Grimmauld Place -, but Mrs. Weasley had kept one for Bill. Ron was supposed to share with him, but now that you were there, Ron was going to have to move rooms. Sorry, Ron.

''I didn't think she would be that angry. If I has known, I-''

''Angry? She was furious, William!'' you interrupted as you entered the bedroom, finding it a complete mess. There was a trunk opened in the corner, quidditch magazines and wrappers on the nightstand, and dirty clothes everywhere. Bill's little brother was a messy person.

With a few whisks of his wand, Bill gathered Ron's stuff and put everything in his trunk - dirty or not - to make room for yours. In the end, the trunk struggled to fit everything, but with a little bit of magic, everything was possible. It might explode when Ron will open it, but it wouldn't be your problem then.

''I guess I overestimated myself.''

You started with your clothes, folding them neatly in the chest drawers and hung the jackets in the small wardrobe. There was an old smell floating in the room, but it was inevitable in a house this old.

While you did that, Bill reached for the toiletries items, frowning confusedly when he saw how many bottles of who-knows-what you had brought. What were they all for? Did you really need all of those?

''I...I thought she was going to hate] me because of that,'' you admitted, genuinely scared you were going to be one of those girlfriends that's hated by her future in-laws. All because Bill omitted to tell his mother about you.

Bill huffed a short laugh, but seeing how you were genuinely worried of so, he turned into a serious face and he came up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. ''That's very unlikely,'' he said, turning you around in his hold and tilting your chin up. ''My mom has no hatred in her body - except for the ones who harm her children. I promise she doesn't hate you.'' Bill kissed your temple, but his speech didn't convince you completely.

''Well, she was yelling. To me, yelling is not something positive.''

''At me. She was yelling at me,'' he corrected. ''But then, she offered you biscuits, didn't she?''

''She did.''

Food was how Molly showed affection and care. She loved to cook all sorts of meals and desserts to feed the ones she loved. If you were particularly kind with her, she might cook your favorite dish at supper.

''Let's finish unpacking so I can introduce you to the rest of the family.''

You nodded and slipped out of your boyfriend's hold. Hopefully it'll go better, this time.

.

When you left the bedroom, you ran into two boys of the same height and physique, which you recognized as the infamous twins. Bill had told you about all members of his family on the plane journey, but telling apart who was who was another story though.

They both hugged their brother - who was almost as tall as them -, having not seen each other in a while and, when Bill introduced you, they looked shocked.

''Girlfriend?'' Fred repeated, sounding surprised. He glanced at you mischievously. ''Have you slipped him a love potion?''

It was all jokes, but you didn't know their humor so you took him seriously.

''Excuse me?'' You were offended that they could think you did something like that. Slipping someone a love potion was vile and immoral. Plus, love potions only created infatuation, not love.

Beside you, Bill rolled his eyes and laughed lightly, which told you they were only joking. ''Is it that difficult to believe that I got a girlfriend? Last time I heard, you all agreed I was the coolest brother of the lot.''

''The coolest, perhaps, but not the most skilled in the flirting departement,'' Fred teased. ''I think I deserve that title.''

''It's just, our brother never brought a girl home before,'' George explained to you, feeling sorry for the misunderstanding. ''How did mom take it? Her oldest son taking a girl home, she must've been emotional.''

''She was thrilled-''

Thrilled wasn't the word you would've employed.

''He's lying. She hit him with a spoon,'' you corrected.

Bill nudged you. ''Y/N! You're supposed to be on my side.''

You shrugged.

''A spoon?'' Fred and George chorused. ''I thought it was only us who got the spoon.''

.

Next was Ginny and Ron, which you met at the dinner table.

Although she was the youngest, Ginny was the closest to Bill. There was a special bond between the two that made you smile fondly.

Farther into the kitchen, another ginger haired boy stood on his mother's heels, trying to steal something to eat. Upon hearing Bill's voice, he turned and joined his sister, but didn't fail to give you a confused look, having never seen you before. If he had, he would've remembered.

''Who are you?'' He took a bite of the bread he stole and Ginny elbowed him for being rude.

In response to Ron's question, Bill slid an arm behind you, grin on his lips and raised his eyebrows, waiting for his siblings to catch on. Since knowing him, you had learned that the eldest Weasley didn't like to make a big deal out of any news - counting having a girlfriend.

It didn't take long for a wide smile to spread on Ginny's face. ''Oh my Godrick! I was not expecting this when you said you were coming home. I'm so happy for you,'' she told Bill and then turned to you and introduced herself - although you already knew her name - and kindly asked for yours. ''Finally, I will no longer be the only girl among those boys. Why have you kept her a secret?''

''I did not-''

Ginny gave her brother a look. ''You didn't tell us. It's the same thing.''

''Maybe he didn't want you to steal her from him,'' Ron joked, making fun of his sister's excitement.

Ginny glared at him, about to say something back, but before she could, Molly called out that dinner was ready. A loud crack echoed and Fred and George aparated in the kitchen, sneaking on Molly and making her yelp.

''Just because you're allowed to do that doesn't mean you-''

''Do you need help, Mrs. Weasley?'' you offered.

Although Bill had promised his mother didn't hate you, being helpful would surely get you on her good side.

Molly smiled at you, thankful for the help. ''That would be very appreciated, dear. You take the soup and bread to the table. Don't forget to place a cloth underneath the stockpot or else it'll burn the wood of the table.''

You nodded and got to business.

While you were helping Molly, two men arrived in the kitchen. One of them had dark curly hair and the other had a walking stick. They introduced themself as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You had heard of the former in the newspaper, but didn't dare ask questions. You simply smiled at him politely.

''Where are the others?'' you asked Bill when you sat down beside him, looking at the kitchen's entrance thinking two more Weasleys would come in. ''I thought you had five brothers.''

''Charlie is in Romania working with dragons and Percy,'' Ginny paused, glancing at their mom in the kitchen, taking something out of the oven. ''He doesn't live with us anymore.''

Ginny didn't need to say more for you to sense that Percy was a sensitive subject for the family. Especially to Molly. You felt like there was more to it than him moving out, but didn't dare ask as it wasn't your businesses.

Thankfully, the subject was dropped fast enough and Ron and Fred started arguing about who would get the ladle first, only for Ginny to roll her eyes and take it before them. Once she was done, she gave it to you to purposely annoy her brothers, which got a complaint from Ron.

''It was my turn!''

[akitohsworld]

Disclaimer: I wrote this some time ago, when I was very sleepy. How they could've met before the exchange? I love stupid references don't@ me lol

Warning: slight NSFW at the end (under the cut)

Put a spell on me |Solomon X m!Reader

Saying Solomon was feeling under the weather was an understatement. He felt like absolute shit. His stomach was recoiling, giving him the impression he had to vomit, but couldn't. Resulting in him being wobbly on his feet. Although, he was currently trying to sober up. The lack of water caused his head to hurt, while he walked alongside the river to go back to his apartment. He was in no shape to teleport, not with the sense of orientation he had right now.

A frustrated groan escaped him as he grabbed onto the metal fence beside the river, letting gravity take over as he slouched down onto the floor.

It was a beautiful night, you could see the starry sky reflecting in the river. The silence only being disturbed by some outlandish music in the distance. Somewhere, there was another party raving besides the witches sabbath he had successfully escaped.

He knew he shouldn't have accepted that many drinks from the witches. But it had been a successful year, he was only going back to the Devildom next week... And, probably, going to meet that other exchange student by then.

"Hey fam, you okay?" A voice slurred above him, blocking the blinding streetlights before him.

"Yeah yeah, thank you for your concern-," Solomon looked up surprised. He thought he was the only one here-

"Here ," a handsome guy, probably not a sorcerer, held out a bottle of water to him, grinning friendly. "You gotta stay hydrated when drunk."

"Uhm.. thanks?" Solomon chuckled. "That's nice, but I hear I shouldn't accept drinks from kind strangers"

Their hair reflected in the warm light, along with unfocused eyes glistening in the dark, when he shot Solomon a kind smile.

Solomon suspected he was from where the music was coming from. Another rave or party or whatever, since he was wearing flashy attire and sweat was glistening on his smooth skin.

From dancing, maybe? It wasn't that warm. Rather fresh, if Solomon would say so himself.

"Hmmm", the stranger put a hand on his chin. "I guess, I'm feelin' a biiiiit brave tonight haha. Here, I'll take a sip from it first."

He chucked down a bit of water. "There."

Solomon just stared at him for a solid second. Maybe, probably, surely, this was the alcohol. But this stranger had something alluring about him. His glistening lips from the water made Solomon unable to do anything else but stare.

"You going to take it, or not?"

"Ah yes", Solomon grabbed the bottle and took a sip before putting it back down again.

"May I sit with you?" He put a hand on his neck and averted his gaze. "I- uhm came here to get away from all the noise for a bit- I don't wanna be creepy or anything-"

"Oh- Yes of course! Don't worry about it"

The grin returned to his face as he slouched down beside him. "Thank you."

Solomon took another chug of water. He didn't really have anywhere to be, nor did he have the strength to go home anyways. So he figured he might as well sober up, while making some new memories.

"Out of curiosity.. what do you mean by brave?" Solomon smirked at him.

"Well...", the stranger just smiled, a slight tint of colour dusting his cheeks. "You're pretty handsome. And I normally can't ask out guys for the heck of it.. so yeah. I'd say I'm being stupidly brave by talking to someone as hot as you."

The sorcerer laughed. "How very direct"

"Must be the alcohol", he chuckled. "I don't know anyone around here.. and I have a habit of drinking too much when I'm at social gatherings without friends.. What about you? Why are you here all alone?.. If it's okay to ask, at least."

"Ah it's okay~ I'm trying to sober up from drinking too", Solomon sighed. "It was an exhausting night.."

The stranger nodded sighing. "Tell me about it."

"So.. what are you celebrating?"

And so, they proceeded to talk about the reasons why they were here. Their conversation slowly but surely going of its original rails, from politics to religion to light-hearted shows and childhood memories.

Solomon, of course, didn't go into much detail about magic nor anything like that. They were simply trailing off into more and more different topics, running their tongues because of the alcohol.

"Wait, people avoid you when you invite them?" He asked in shock, "Even after you offer to cook for them?! Woah, that's rude after everything you've done..."

Solomon hung his head in disappointment. "I really don't know what the issue is, you know? It's not like they outright avoid me when we nee- want to hang out, but everytime I offer my hospitality they just.. you know?"

"Shiiiit bro... ," he thought for a bit, then joked, "Maybe your cooking sucks?"

Solomon sighed dramatically, proceeding to pout. "Can't blame the tasteless."

"Just kidding kidding!!" he smiled sympathetically, "Maybe it's best if you ask them directly about it. Honesty is always key, no matter where you're from."

Solomon remembered something.

"So, I'm guessing you're not from around here?"

The stranger looked him up and down, seeming to think for a bit and then smirking back at him.

"You tell me, wizard boy. Am I?"

"Oh? How do you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I'm", Solomon gesticulated dramatically, "a wizard."

He became serious and leaned closer to Solomon, putting a hand on his shoulder. Solomon's breath hitched ever so slightly as the stranger's intense gaze held him entranced.

"You're a wizard, Harry."

"Huh?"

The stranger wheezed at his reference, as Solomon finally understood and erupted into laughter himself.

He stopped himself to respond seriously:

"..A wizard?"

"Don't you feel it ," the stranger put their hand over Solomon's heart, making his heart pound a bit harder, which surprised him, "...,Mister Krabs?"

"Huh- What?-"

After a perplexed pause they looked at each other and wheezed and cackled in the cursed manner your friends laugh when someone tells a ridiculous, dumb joke.

As they sat there, next to a river enveloped by the light of street lamps in a park, their laughter erupted through the silent night. Nothing but very faint music could be heard in the distance. Solomon didn't even know why he was laughing so hard. It was a stupid reference. And this stranger was clearly out of it.

There was something about him... Solomon just couldn't put his finger to it.

"S-so haha you're a man of culture as well~", Solomon calmed down, "What's your name?"

" Of course~ (y/N)." The stranger responded smiling, wiping away a tear. "Yours?"

"Solomon.", he answered reciprocating the smile.

"Solomon the wise?"

"Yes." He shot him a knowing glance. "So you do know me~"

"Oh yes~" (y/N)'s fingers slid over Solomon's coat. "You dress like a wizard, you look like a wizard aaaaand your named after King Solomon the wise. Great literature surrounds you: like Ars Goëtia and the lesser keys of, well, you", their gaze turned to look into the sorcerer's grey eyes.

With that, Solomon understood.

This person didn't know him . He knew of his tales, the legends, basically fairy tales.

He was like most humans... Unaware of the magical world he lived in. The realisation stung a bit, but the sorcerer decided to play along anyways as he felt himself sobering up.

"Well, I can't disappoint a fan like yourself now, can I?" Solomon smirked.

"Ohh~ So are you going to show me any tricks?" (y/N) laughed, standing up challengingly. "Come at me with your best shot, wizard boy~"

Solomon didn't know why, but he felt the urge to impress the young man.

"Hmm", he stood up, although a bit wobbly. "Alright. But I'll need an assistant~"

"Oh my oh myyy" (y/N) excitedly clapped their hands together. "I'll sacrifice myself for the greater good then."

Solomon chuckled, shooting him a provocative glance through his lashes at which he thought he saw (y/N) blushing.

"So, (y/N), are you ready?"

"I'm was born ready"

Solomon offered him his hand. "Take my hand, my cute assistant~"

"Oh my, and he has a way with words", (y/N) overdramatically took his hand, "The ladies will die if you do that, you know?"

"Oh will they now?", Solomon pulled him towards himself, "What effect do you think Hecate's power will have on you?"

"I like your funny words, magic man", (y/N) smirked playfully. "Tell me more~"

Solomon scoffed. This guy is a walking reference book.

"Have you ever danced with a sorcerer in the pale moonlight?", he asked, putting another hand on (y/N)'s waist, said man's breath hitching.

"W-well, I'm pretty sure the proverb goes different, Solomon", he put a hand on his counterpart's shoulder as he let Solomon take the lead, "I thought you were going to show me a trick though~"

"Patience is a virtue", he simply said teasingly.

"-and a pain", (y/N) retorted, while taking the first step back.

"So you know how to waltz?", Solomon began to lead.

"School taught me many things", he imitated a rough old man voice, "You youngsters would never understand"

Solomon tried to contain his need to laugh.

"Aha~ Funny, enlighten me?"

"Well, I don't know what they teach in wizard boy-school", they turned, " But back in my day, they tried to teach me calculus"

Solomon quirked a brow. "Tried?" Then he spun (y/N) around.

"Well, I was busy drawing into my notes", his cold hand slipped to Solomon's neck, making the sorcerer tense up.

"And what kind of Mona Lisa-worth drawings were you working on? I bet only of the highest quality~", sarcasm dripped from his voice as he shot (y/N) a teasing smile.

"Oh you can't even imagine~", (y/N) rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner before shooting him a deadpan look, "Penises mostly"

A laugh escaped Solomon. "How refined"

"I am nothing but refined, sir~"

Solomon spun him around again, matching no pace in particular, as he pulled him closer to his chest this time. A small gasp left (y/N)'s mouth.

"H-hey now, be careful there. Or do you want me to fall?"

Solomon's lips pursed up in amusement, but quickly froze as he looked into the man's face.

(y/N)'s expression was contorted in utter joy, like he couldn't contain their grin. He looked stupidly adorable...

Solomon felt his heart clench at the sight. But he quickly snapped out of it as he shot (y/N) another charming smile.

"So, about 'the ladies dying' at my charm.."

"You're still on about that?" (y/N) chuckled amused, "Give it a rest wizard boy. We get it, you're handsome-"

"What about you?" his cheeks burned as he felt himself getting... Nervous? That's new.

Solomon hoped the darkness wouldn't give him away, "How do you feel about my 'charm'?"

For a second everything stood still and they both came to a stop. Their eyes locked and silence engulfed them. Tension began to claw at both man's braveness, as realisation struck them. This encounter had progressively turned into something more. Not some random thing.

It felt like..

(y/N) averted his gaze, face flushing a bright red as he chuckled nervously. "It... It takes a bit more for me to die, Sol.."

Fate.

"Is that so?", Solomon's fingers interlaced with his as he slowly inched closer.

"I mean.. you could find out..." (y/N)'s eyes slowly closed when-

Strings of colourful magic sparked around them.

"Huh?!" His eyes shot wide open, grip tightening on Solomon's hands, "What-"

(y/N) looked around stunned and extremely surprised.

"So? How was that for a 'magic trick'?"

(y/N)'s gaze returned to face him. "Y-you.. How?"

The sorcerer just hummed. "Who knows?"

"This... Must be a dream then..", he sighed disappointed, a tinge of sadness in his voice, "That's a bummer.. I really like you."

Now it was Solomon's turn to blush.

"I- I understand the confusion, but- mph?!"

With that his lips pressed onto Solomon's.

The sorcerer froze, while (y/N)'s mouth opened a little, slipping his tongue through Solomon's mouth. He tasted like sweet liquor, further entrancing the sorcerer in a passionate kiss.

Solomon got over his shock quickly as his hands found the other's waist, pulling him towards himself. When (y/N) sighed into the kiss, hands burying into his white locks, excitement shot through his spine.

Solomon pressed him against a nearby tree. He grew hot as (y/N)'s soft, wet lips brushed against his, the passion growing with each passing second.

"Mnh hah", (y/N) parted for a second, a string of saliva connecting them, lips barely brushing against his, "This.. feels too real though.."

"Because it is- ", Solomon panted against his mouth, connecting their lips again with more of his own vigor this time. His tongue eagerly brushing over the other's.

God, what was he doing?

What was he doing??

But fuck it felt so good.

He couldn't resist the desire to touch (y/N) more and more. He wanted him closer and it showed.

As if on cue, (y/N)'s hand slid over Solomon's pants, suddenly palming his half hard erection and making him moan into the other's mouth longingly.

"Mnn- (y/N) wait.."

"Mnh? Oh sorry-!", he stopped abruptly.

"N-no I mean... Let's.. let's go to my place-"

"Oh~" (y/N) smiled and kissed him again, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as he parted panting.

"Alright then. Show me the way, wizard-boy~"

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Bad Day

Draco X Reader

Requested: @eve-mal1 Can you do a fluffy Draco where you’ve had a rly bad day and he comforts you x💕

A/n: Okay, so Draco might be the cause of your terrible day, but he had good reason okay? Post-War fic and some forbidden love sprinkled in there as well. Love you guys lots, let me know that you think. 

I walked out to the top of the stairs and a large round of applause erupted. I took a deep breath and smiled softly, putting on a charade. I could do this. Everyone staring at me as I descended the stairs, putting in all of my effort not to fall flat on my face.

Ron came up beside me, to escort me. “Harry canceled last minute, he sends his regards,” 

“What?” I squeaked. “But... he was supposed to...”

Harry was the reason that I had even allowed this stupid Gala to take place. He was the one who convicted me that I deserved it. Or at least that everyone deserved a bit of a break and to celebrate whatever they could. It was the reason I was in this constricting dress and pinching shoes with a hairstyle that could only induce a migraine.

“I know, but we need to go before people begin to get worried,” Ron urged.

“Right,”

Taking his arm, we mingled.

“This is... ridiculous,” I decided, among the throng of people, all congratulating and thanking me and Ron for our efforts in the war.

“Why do you think I’ve avoided them for so long?” Ron muttered.

The night was a blur for the most part, there were warm smiles and dancing, most of which I avoided for quite some time. Ron and I had gotten separated after a while and I was left alone. He no doubt went to find Hermione, and I didn’t blame him in the slightest.

“Miss Y/l/n,” A warm voice welcomed me.

I was met with dark brown eyes and a charming smile.

“Just Y/n, thank you,” I offered a polite smile.

“I came to congratulate you. You are a brave woman,” The man took my hand and kissed it.

“Thank you, I just did my job, that was all,” I blushed and looked down, feeling awkward. 

“Do not downplay your achievements, it truly remarkable what you’ve done for this country,” 

“Thank you,” I felt the blush on my face grow stronger and the need to flee growing stronger. For better or worse, I was given an out.

The glass of the great hall shattered black robes and masked figured flooding into the Gala. Amongst the screams and chaos, I drew my wand, ready. My eyes met Ron’s from across the way the same determination in his eyes. I lost him in the fray, throwing hexes and spells to take down as many black cloaked figures as I could. Yet, with each Death Eater I took down, five more took its place.

Caught off guard, I was grabbed from behind. One hand covering my mouth, another grabbing the wrist of the hand that held my wand. The vice grip didn’t let me protest or break free.

“Come with me quietly, or your friends die,” There was something in his voice that I couldn’t place.

But I had no choice. We had just gotten through a war alive. I wouldn’t let their deaths come as a cause of my stubbornness. I went with the cloaked and hooded figure.

The assailant took me with him while Apperating. I barely found my bearings before I fell to the floor. The first thing I did was ditch the death traps that were my shoes. Then I turned on my aggressor, who had made the mistake of letting me go, wand still in hand.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you!” I shouted, my wand poised and aimed at him.

My kidnapper laughed, throwing down his hood, taking off his mask. I gasped. Silvery blond hair and cool grey eyes greet me. Grey eyes that held mischief.

“That reason enough?” Draco chuckled, throwing his mask onto a nearby bookshelf.

“You,” I growled, tightening my grip on my wand. “You...” There wasn’t an insult large enough to the anger I was feel.

“Put down the wand Y/n, you’re not going to hurt me,” Draco raised an eyebrow at me, his black cloak shrugged off and cast aside.

“But you! And the Gala! My friends! Those people!” I yelled.

“Are all perfectly fine.” The glint in Draco’s eye let me know that he knew something that I didn’t. It aggravated me to death.

“What game are you playing Malfoy?” I hissed. “We agreed,”

“We did,” He made his way toward me, taking the wand from my hand. “I missed you too,”

Sighing I gave in, allowing him to pull me into an embrace. It felt good to be home in his arms. It had been too long. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, reminding me to steady myself.

“What were you thinking?” I whispered into his shoulder. “All of that for a few moments together? They’re going to come after you. You’ll have to hide again, and it’ll be even longer until we can see each other,”

He drew away, cradling my face in one of his hands. “No, I won’t,” A smile rested on his lips.

“What do you mean no you won’t?” I demanded, pushing out of his reach. “Death Eaters just attacked a post-war Gala! You kidnapped me! Merlin, they’re going to think I’m in actual danger!” My voiced reached a point of hysterics. “Draco what the hell were you thinking!?” The gravity of the situation weighed on me heavily.

“Hey, will you calm down for two seconds?” Draco took a step toward me.

“No! I will not calm down!” I shouted at him, “Of all the stupid, reckless, idiotic things you could have done!”

“I told you she would yell,” A new voice chimed in and my eyes met amused green ones and a tangle of raven curls. “We should have told her,”

“We needed to make it look real,” Draco refuted. “And she never would have agreed.”

“Harry?” I sputtered. “But... you... you ditched me!” I was back to yelling, jabbing a finger accusingly at him. “And you seriously let him go through with this plan!? I know you’re both daft, but this is low for the both of you!”

“She’s got quite a mouth on her,” Harry chuckled.

“Give her a minute, she’ll come round,” Draco grinned, looking at me, expectant.

“Refer to her in third person again and you’ll have bigger problems than my fury,” I hissed. “Now what the hell is going on!?”

“Are you ready to listen?” Draco asked, calmly—condescendingly. 

“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

“Oh good,” Ron burst through the door, “Hermione and I are in, everything else is taken care of.”

“Ron knew!?” I demanded. “Did everyone but me know!?”

Ron slowly backed away, and Draco chuckled, coming toward me again, with no fear that I might take a swing at him. It was a serious consideration.

“Harry, leave us for a moment?” Draco requested softly. The chosen one left without another word.

“Draco, what’s going on?” My anger had passed, and now I was scared and confused with more questions that loomed with the weight of the world than answers.

He took a deep breath in and pulled me to a loveseat in the sitting room we were in. I laid my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me.

“I don’t want to lose you again.” I whispered. “Just tell me what’s going on,”

“Harry and your other friends decided to help me getting back to you in a safe way that wouldn’t threaten either of our lives,” Draco began, shushing me when I began to argue back. “The Gala was put on with a few strings pulled from Harry and Hermione. Some of the attenders will remember the Death Eater attack, but most won’t. Those who do remember will test as if their memories had been altered, not the other way around,”

“Hermione?” I mused.

“Yours truly,” He grinned. “Give me a little credit, there’s only so long that I can stay away from you before I start to get creative. I figured out the spell a week ago. Hermione and I tested it on Ron and Harry. It worked.”

“You... created a spell for me?” I gaped up at him, settling into a warm smile. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and continued. Wandless magic began to undo my hair, and I could only guess that Draco was the cause.

“So, all we needed was you there and ready. Those who do remember would have seen kidnapped by yours truly, the other will think you’ve moved to America to escape the horrors of war,” He gestured here and there with his words.

“But that would mean that some wizards are thinking that I was kidnapped by a Death Eater,” I pointed out the flaw.

“Well, until it comes up in the Daily Prophet that you’re in America safe and sound, putting the entire thing to rest.” His victorious smile made me give up on the notion of any argument against his plan. If he believed it would work, then so would I.

“Any other questions?” He mused, standing.

“Why didn’t Harry show?” I pondered, letting him lead me down the halls of the Manor to our usual shared room.

“Because his word would be the end all be all. And it would create more rumors and conspiracies, and it was easier for him to miss the event all together,”

Draco opened the door to the en suite bathroom, revealing a warm bath and a dozen lit candles. The warm atmosphere wrapped around me like a thick blanket. Draco pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Go ahead and unwind. I’ll be waiting,” He promised, leaving me alone.

Scrubbing off the makeup and washing the hairspray and gel from hair, I felt a bit more like me. The bath must have been charmed to stay warm because though I spent quite some time processing and unwinding, it remained warm. But there came a time that I had to leave the warm silky water and make my way to Draco.

In one of his old t-shirts and sweats, I wrapped a house coat around myself and ventured out. Though, he wasn’t waiting in the bedroom like I thought he would be. Frowning I padded out into the hall, leaning over the banister, searching for some sign of life in the large house. And it proved useful because I heard the faintness of music coming from the great room. Making my way down the stairs I found Draco at the piano, playing softly. A melody that belonged to me. With the hearth ablaze and candles lit, the scene was enchanting.

“Dray?” I asked softly, not wanting to scare him.

“Have a nice bath?” He asked, coming over to me, his attire close to mine. I nodded.

“Did everyone leave?” I asked, looking at the large empty warm room.

“They thought maybe we’d want some time to ourselves.” He smiled leading me to the large sofa where blankets and pillows greeted us.

“They’d be right,” I smiled, curling up with him.

His arms wrapped around me, one hand drifting to my hair and running through the damp tresses. I laid my head back on his shoulder.

“You really put me through a hell of a day,” I muttered.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “But it had to work. I couldn’t stand another moment without you,”

A smile touched my lips. A house elf came with mugs of warm tea and assorted biscuits and sweets. I raised an eyebrow and Draco smiled, switching on the large TV that I had convinced him to install as a familiar melody of a favorite movie of mine began to play.

“Really laying it on thick, are we?” I laughed, settling down into the comfort of his arms and the pillows around us.

“You said it, I put you through a hell of a day. I figured I’d have to make it up to you,” With ease Draco pulled me into his lap, holding me closer.

“Even without all of this, you did manage to get us safe and sound together and I owe you a lot for that,” I intertwined my fingers with his. He held to my hand tightly.

“I had at least three ulterior motives,” He smirked down at me, causing me to roll me eyes. 

“Well, I’m glad you did it regardless,”

“Anything to get back to you, my love.”

As the movie progressed, I sang softly to the songs on screen, eventually hearing Draco faint baritone harmonize with my gentle melody. And for that moment, I was certain, no matter what the day threw at me—be it Death Eaters and a stuffy Gala—I’d go through it all for Draco.

.

masterlist

.

more like this:

beautifully beastly

a death eater and a dancer

.

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

sdra2 boys reactions to a first kiss from their s/o-

Here you go! These turned out a bit longer than expected haha (plus I almost forgot Hajime aaaaaa)

.........

Teruya

The former merchant was grieving over his friends again, but as much as he tried hiding it--he knew he couldn’t keep it bottled up around you. So he just let himself curl into your arms, clutching the goggles of a certain pilot.

He felt childish for crying like this, though you didn’t judge him, nor the tears that soaked your shirt. Instead you held him close, running a hand through his hair. 

Teruya found that talking about the good memories--as good as any memories of being trapped in the academy could be--with the pilot helped ease his troubled mind. Plus you were curious about his friendship with him.

“He seemed like a comedic guy,” you smiled softly. “A guy with a good heart.”

“Yeah, th-that was Haru alright..” He sniffled, sighing as he felt himself calming down. “Okay..I think I’m alright now. Th-Thank you for listening.”

"Of course, but hmm..I know what’ll cheer you up, Ruya.”

As he raised his head to look at you, what he didn’t expect was to feel you lips against his. But for a first kiss...it was so soft and sweet, just like you’ve always been to him.

You could see a blush on his face as you broke the kiss. He tried to speak, but could only babble random nonsense, to which you just chuckled. “You feel a little better?”

“Y-Yeah..I’m f-feelin’ tons better...”

.........

Yuki

“Are you..serious?” Yuki gawked, expecting you to laugh at his confession. “Y-You really like me that way, too?”

“Of course! And I’ll say it again if I need to.” Grinning, you took his hands and swung them side-to-side a bit. “I truly do like you, Yuki Maeda. So what if you’re “average”? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Despite how much he wanted to believe your words, he was convinced that he wasn’t anyone special. His talent didn’t make him famous or rich or smart--who would wanna be with someone who was lacking in all three departments?

You could see his eyes starting to cloud over with doubt, but you weren’t gonna have any of that. Fortunately you had an idea that was either smart...or stupid. 

You didn’t care and just decided to kiss him right on the lips. He squeaked in surprise, immediately stiffening up, though it was just a peck and you quickly backed off.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but it got your message across..or so you hoped. “Now do you believe me?”

“I-I....I do..” Yuki stammered, his gaze travelling to your entwined hands. Though he shyly glanced back up at you. “C-Could you..uh..maybe do that again?”

........

Nikei

As you typed away on the computer, you could feel a lingering presence over your shoulder. But you didn’t mind it, knowing there was only one person who was allowed to barge into your office.

“Hey Nik-Nak.”

“Y-You’re seriously giving me a nickname now?” The journalist stammered, though he just sighed and looked at your computer screen. “Anyways..how’s the editing going?”

“So far so good. your dear Ultimate Editor is hard at work.” You kept tapping the keys. “But I noticed a lot more run-on sentences in this one. Looks like somebody’s had a little too much coffee today.”

“Oh please,” he huffed. “We both have very different definitions of “too much coffee”. And I think I know who stole the rest..”

“Sue me.” You joked, reaching up to pat his cheek, before you brought his head down slightly to kiss his other one. “Make some more if your heart desires.”

“..........”

“...Nikei?”

“...s-sure...imma go..uh....yeah. Bye.”

By the time you turned away from the computer, Nikei was already rushing out the door, clutching his hat to hide his face from view. But even in the dark you could tell he was blushing like mad.

How adorable.

........

Shinji

“COME ON, YUKI!! YOU GOTTA HAVE MORE FIYAAAAH THAN THAT!!!”

“He seems tired, Shinji. Cut him some slack.” You chuckled as you watched the two men train together. Poor Yuki was practically wheezing after the run, while Shinji just huffed and kept jogging around the park.

But eventually he made his way over to you and stopped short. “You should join us! Get your blood pumping!!”

“Do I have to?”

“Why not?” He grinned.

You really didn’t wanna run in hot weather like this, and the two seemed like they needed a break. 

So you came up with an idea--a sure-fire way to get him to listen to you. “Hey, Shin? I..gotta tell you something important.” You motioned for him to lean in closer, and he did so in worry, wondering what you had to say.

Though all he got was peck on the lips. It was the first kiss you’ve given him since you two starting going out, so it was quick but sweet. When you moved back you could see him staring at you, face growing beet-red.

“Now will you take a break...please?” You held his hands. 

For a while he seemed speechless--as though his brain short-circuited--before he finally found his voice. “W-W-Well jeez..why d-didn’t ya say so before?”

......

Yuri

“Oh, [y/n]~! I’ve figured out the perfect way to commemorate our first kiss!”

“You have? And what would that be?” You turned around to face the spaceman, noticing he had a box of Pocky. “O-Oh...the Pocky game?”

“What else could it be?” He laughed as he held out a stick between you two. “Since we’re both already familiar with it, why not get started right away~”

Seeing that there was no way out of this, you sighed and decided to agree to the game. You bit down one end of the stick while Yuri bit the other. 

Then you started munching away. Though at the last second, right before your noses could touch, you suddenly moved back, letting him have victory.

“Awh..there’s no need to be shy, my dearest.” He pouted, clearly disappointed. “I understand if you’re not ready yet but-”

However he was cut short when you pulled him by the tie, bringing his lips to yours. His eyes widened to the size of UFOS, though before he could properly react you broke the kiss, smiling as you munched the remaining Pocky you stole from him.

“I win~”

.......

Shobai

“You’re kidding right?”

“It’s like I said--nothing in life comes for free, sweetheart. If ya don’t already know that then..why are we even going out?"

“...we’ve been dating for-”

“You want a kiss? Better pay up.” As ridiculous as it seemed, Shobai looked dead serious about this “deal” you wanted to make with him. 

You didn’t think you’d have to actually pay to get a first kiss. But then again..this man made a living making bizarre deals, so you shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“Alright, if that’s what it takes.” You begrudgingly took out your wallet and opened it. “What do you want for-?”

However, you fell silent when you heard a snicker, and you looked to see his smug grin. But before you could question him, he suddenly leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, stunning you, though you tried to seize the moment and kiss him back.

He tasted like smoke, of course. It wasn’t the most pleasant, though your heart still fluttered even after you two broke the kiss. Only then did he notice your dumbfounded expression, and chuckled.

“You know, you can be real gullible sometimes...but that makes you kinda cute.”

.......

Mikado

“Hey um..Mik? Can I ask you something?”

“Oh anything, my dear moon~ Well...erm...there are some things I cannot disclose if you’re curious about Void-”

“A-Ah, nothing like that. I’m just wondering if...I were to kiss you....which side would you prefer?” You gestured to both sides of your face, looking at the wizard with an inquiring expression.

He hummed in thought. “You know..I’ve never had my first kiss before, so I’m not so sure myself. How about I let you surprise me?” The red eye on his mask winked, before he closed his real eye and sat still.

With a sigh, you decided to entertain him, approaching him. But when he opened his eye, you stopped short and huffed. “Hey, what happened to me “surprising” you?”

“Sorry, I was getting..impatient. Carry on.” Once more he closed it, soon feeling you cup the cheek of his maskless side. And he tensed up upon feeling you kiss the corner of his mouth. 

Redness dusted his entire face as he opened his eyes, seeing your smile.

“O-Oh...so that’s how it feels..”

.......

Hajime

“Hajime, it’ll only be for a second. I’ll be right back with medicine-”

“N-No..at least let me go with you..please..”

“You collapsed during training and you’ve been running a high fever ever since. You’re in no condition to walk right now.”

Despite your best efforts, Hajime continued to resist staying in bed. You didn’t think it would be this difficult to get him to stay put, but you knew why he was so upset.

He wasn’t scared of getting sick--he was scared of being abandoned while he was sick. It was a fear instilled into him thanks to his parents and doctors who just..gave up and left him to die, all alone.

That fear showed itself in full-force as he gripped your hand. “D-Don’t abandon me..” He sobbed weakly. “I can’t go through that again..I-I just can’t...”

Your heart ached when you heard those pleas. But as you wondered how you could calm him down...the first brilliant idea to pop in your mind was:

Kiss him.

And so you did, right on the lips, which you knew you’ll regret later. Though Hajime fell silent and looked at you with surprise. “...did you...?”

“Th-That’s..not how I meant our first kiss to go. But I promise you, Hajime..I’m not gonna abandon you.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Not now, not ever, okay? I will always come back for you.”

His cheeks were more flushed, but he nodded meekly and relaxed back on the bed as you quickly left to retrieve the medicine.

And you kept your promise.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Love Triangle

For the Anon who requested : Can u write something like the james/lily/snape thingy but with harry/draco/reader where the reader ultimately ends up with harry?

When you were sorted into Gryffindor, you felt like your world had ended. You were going to disappoint your father, you were going to lose your best friend, Draco, and you weren’t going to be a lonely outcast. At 11 everything is the end of the world. However, you were lucky, unbelievably so. Your parents eventually came around, “At least we know she’s brave,” he had said. And while you spent the first few months of school without Draco, he had come around as well. You were still best mates, thicker than thieves. A shining example of inter-house friendships. Even if you did tease each other mercilessly. You even found friends and a home within Gryffindor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had become your best friends- despite Draco’s protests. 

Years later, you were a 6th year now, one more year until you graduated, and you were content with everything you had in your life. But change was on the horizon. Draco wasn’t acting himself, and frankly, neither was Harry. You worried about both of them, worried for them. Draco had missed two of your Friday study sessions in a row, a tradition since you were 11. And Harry was so caught up in that book and his own head when you were with him, he wasn’t even there. 

You were sitting in the common room, Harry and Hermione were bickering about his potions book and Ron was sitting by the fire ignoring them. You were lost in thought. The mention of your inner thoughts brought you into the current conversation. 

“Draco is a death eater, I know it.” Harry barked at Hermione, who glanced quickly at you then back to Harry. 

“Harry…” She started but you cut her off. 

“No, he isn’t,” You snapped, and Harry’s gaze turned to you, souring. 

“Of course you’d say that,”

“Because he isn’t.” You held his gaze with your own, “You’re overreacting, a habit really.” 

“I saw him in Knockturn Alley this summer, Y/N, what respectable wizard goes there?” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,”

“His father is one,” 

“And everyone is exactly like their father? You don’t know him.”

“And I don’t care to, how you're his friend I’ll never know,” He scoffed, and you continued to glare at him. 

“It’s cause he’s got a crush on her,” Ron added from the carpet below them. “She likes the attention,” 

“Ron!” Hermione snapped, and you turned your glare from Harry to him. 

“I like the attention?” He merely shrugged, looking away again. “I see. Fine. I’ll leave you lot to it then.” You gathered your books, shoving them into your satchel before huffing and storming towards the girl’s dorm. Hermione continued to glare at both boys. 

“Why would you say that?” She questioned, Ron shrugged again. “You two are impossible.” 

“You birds are always annoyed by something,” Ron shook his head. Hermione let out a huff similar to yours and followed your actions, gathering her own things. “Hey, what about helping me with charms?” Ron asked, Hermione, shook her head, still glaring. 

“Do it yourself.” She, too, stormed towards the girl’s stairs. The boys sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other. 

“You didn’t need to say that,” Harry finally mumbled, Ron sat up, looking at his friend. 

“It’s true, she likes the attention he gives her, it’s a girl thing.” 

“Maybe she likes it because she likes him,” Harry suggested and Ron made a face. 

“How could she?” Harry simply shrugged, looking down at the cover of his worn-out book. “You should tell her mate,” 

“Tell her what?”

“That you like her, and that you can give her attention.” 

“She doesn’t want that,” Harry stood up as well, grabbing his bag, “I’m going to bed.” Ron hopped up as well.

“Yeah, I’ll come too.” 

In the girl’s room, you and Hermione sat on her bed, both steaming. Hermione sat up straight, ranting, her hands flying a mile a minute, as you lounged back against her pillows, arms crossed, head nodding in agreement. 

“They’re both terrible! I don’t get it, Harry, with his book, and his head up his arse, doesn’t even see what is really going on around him, he just talks, he’s clueless! And Ron, don’t get my started on Ron, he’s a thick-headed git, he-”

“I’d hate to see you started.” You joked smirking slightly and Hermione chuckled, dropping her hands. 

“I’m sorry they were being rotten to you,” You shrugged, playing with the hem of her duvet. 

“Draco isn’t a death eater, I’d know.” You murmured and Hermione nodded. “He isn’t, Harry just hates him for no reason,” 

“They hate each other,” She corrected gently, “It’s mutual, they always have. Harry is... jealous.” 

“Jealous?” You laughed, rolling your eyes, “What do you mean?” 

“Draco does like you-”

“Hermione not this again,” 

“Come on it’s obvious.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes, “He’s always loved you,” 

“Okay? So? Maybe? But why on earth should Harry care about who does and does not have a thing for me?” You questioned and Hermione looked at you pointedly. “No,” You shook your head wildly, “Hermione, no,” 

“He likes you,”

“No, he does not,”

“Y/N, come on,”

“Hermione! You come on!” She nudged you gently, and you slumped down further into her pillows, “Come on, you’re taking the piss,” 

“I’m not.” She looked at you seriously, “He likes you, and he knows Draco does too, and he doesn’t like it.” 

“Why not, I don’t know, talk to me about it?” 

“They’re boys,” You both chuckled at that, then there was silence for a moment as you processed it. 

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“I didn’t think you were coming.” You looked up at your friend as he approached your usual table in the library. He looked down at his hands as he sat, he felt guilty. Good. “You’ve stood me up three weeks in a row. I almost didn’t come myself.” 

“I’m sorry,” He sighed, looking up at you, “I really am,” You nodded, reaching over to put a hand on his arm, to which he flinched. You retracted your hand. 

“Draco, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You looked at him pointedly, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugged, “Nothing,”

“That might work on someone else, but I know you a bit too well to buy that, talk to me,” You prodded, and he sighed. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” You nodded, placing your hands flat on the table in front of you, looking there instead of at him. 

“Are you upset with me?”

“What? No, of course not.” You nodded again, shrugging. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” 

“I’m sorry,”

“You mentioned,” You glanced up at him, trying to catch his eyes, but he wasn’t looking at you either. 

“I’m just stressed with school and stuff,” 

“Stuff?”

“I can’t talk about it, Y/N,”

“Can’t or won’t?” You questioned him, and he finally looked up, his grey eyes were dark and heavy, and he looked more serious than you had ever seen him. 

“Can’t.” You nodded, holding his gaze.

“Okay,” it came out in a whisper, and it felt appropriate somehow. “I’ve missed you,” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and he reached over to grab your arm this time, squeezing.

“I always miss you, trust me, I think about you constantly.” You thought back to your conversation a few nights before with Hermione and your cheeks began to heat up. Draco tilted his head, catching it immediately, “What?” 

“Nothing,” It was your turn to be invasive. Draco frowned, squeezing your arm again.

“Is that so?” You didn’t answer, you looked down at where his hand was on your arm, swallowing thickly. “Y/N?”

“Do you like me?” You asked, suddenly, looking up at the boy who was turning into a man before your eyes. Sometimes you still saw him, 8 years old, and so carefree. Those were different times. You watched him, his own thick swallow, his eyes looking around, his cheeks slightly rosy. He did. But would he tell you? 

“Why?” He questioned you back, and you smirked slightly. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“What if it is,” He removed his hand, scratching the back of his head nervously. You paused. What if?

“I don’t know,” He nodded, face closing off, you frowned, reaching for him. “I don’t know, Draco, but it’s not bad. Okay?” He glanced up, smiling slightly. 

“Whatever you say.” 

You couldn’t see through your tears, you were furious. You entered the common room like a storm, looking around wildly. Where was he? You didn’t see him, so you stormed up the boy’s staircase and into the boy’s assigned room. 

“What the fuck did you do,” You yelled, coming into the room and stopping in front of the boy, “What did you do!” You came up to him, pointing a finger at him, shoving it against his chest, he had the decency to look scared. 

“Y/N,” Ron got up off his bed, trying to sound soothing, but you were too mad. 

“He’s in the hospital wing half dead because of you!” You yelled, and Harry stood up, taking a step towards you, so you were in each other’s faces. 

“Does it matter that he attacked me first?!” He asked his own voice raising. 

“Guys,” Ron interjected. “Please,” 

“Shut up,” You both yelled. 

“You could have killed him!”

“Why are you protecting him, Y/N, he’s a death eater!” You pushed your hand into his chest and he grabbed it, pulling you closer, “Maybe you’re one too,” You shoved at him, backing away. 

“You’re insane, you’re... you’re... the worst!” You couldn’t even formulate words right now you were so angry. “Never speak to me again!”

“My pleasure!” You stormed from the room as quickly as you had come in, going back towards the hospital wing. Harry continued to seethe, and Ron watched him, worried. 

“Mate?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

A month went by with little to no communication between you and Harry, and it hurt you more than you would like to admit. You could see he was struggling, and you wanted to be able to go to him, to ask him what was wrong. But you were still so mad. Hermione came to you one morning, looking worried, she grabbed you from the common room and took you to somewhere you could talk privately. 

“I need you to talk to Harry,” You opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off continuing, “Please, whatever differences you have, you need to. He won’t listen to anyone else.” 

“Hermione? What’s going on?” You were worried now, watching her in panic. 

“He’s going... somewhere with Dumbledore, somewhere dangerous, he won’t talk about it, but it’s something to do with You Know Who,” You nodded, glancing around to make sure you were still alone. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell him not to!” She cried, grabbing at the front of your robes, “Please, I have a bad feeling, he won’t even talk to Ron about it.” You nodded, placing your hands over her hands and squeezing. 

“Where is he?” 

“Harry?” You knocked on the slightly ajar door of an empty classroom before letting yourself in, closing the door behind you. 

“I thought we were never speaking again,” He didn’t even look up, you shrugged, coming to sit on a desk a few away from him. 

“Ron and Hermione are worried about you,” He scoffed, looking out one of the large classroom windows.

“And why do you care?”

“Because you’re my friend, even when I’m upset with you, and I care about you.” You answered honestly. “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He shrugged this time, before crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m fine,”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He snapped. You were quiet for a moment, before getting up to move closer to the boy.

“Talk to me, please,” He tensed slightly, and you could tell he was trying not to look at you, “Where are you going with Dumbledore?” 

“Y/N, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, Harry, it does.” You touched his arm gently, trying to get him to look at you, “Please.” 

“We’re going to destroy a Horcrux.” He finally whispered, “It’s... a piece of Voldemort, he can’t die until we destroy them all. That’s the short version.” You nodded, squeezing his arm. Finally, he glanced over at you, “and you’re not going to talk me out of it,” You smiled sadly. 

“I didn’t think I could.” He returned the small smile.

“You’ve always known me best,” You smiled more, tilting your head. 

“It’s my job.” He chuckled slightly, “When do you go?” 

“Tonight.” You nodded, before removing your hand from his arm and wrapping them both around him in a tight hug. It took a moment, but he returned it, holding you close. 

“I’m sorry,”

“For?”

“Everything mean I’ve ever said to you,” You chuckled, resting your chin on his shoulder as you embraced. 

“I forgive you,” You assured him, squeezing him tighter, “Just please be safe, I want you back here in one piece, you hear me?” He nodded and released you finally. 

“Y/N...” 

“Hmm?” You asked, looking at him as his hands remained on each of your arms. They went from your biceps down, before eventually, he was clasping both of your hands in his. 

“You mean the world to me, you know that right?” You smiled softly, meeting his eye. 

“I do now,” You joked, and he laughed softly.

“I know you like Draco-”

“I... don’t.” You assured. You had tried to, really tried. He was your best friend, your soulmate even, but it was not meant to be romantic. Not in this life. Harry paused at that, and you watched him, watched him lean in before placing a soft kiss on your cheek, when he pulled back he was blushing deeply. You smiled and squeezed his hands before leaning in yourself to place a small kiss on his lips, “Just come back, okay?” 

The castle was finally quiet, after hours of chaos. Dumbledore was dead. Rumors flew on who killed him; Draco Malfoy. Your head spun, your stomach lurched. You didn’t want to believe it. 

“Y/N?” Hermione whispered, her hand finding your hand, “Are your parents coming to get you?” You shook your head, you wanted to cry, but you couldn’t. Ron stood on her other side, and Harry was a few feet away from you. Everyone wore blank faces. Death eaters in Hogwarts. Nowhere was safe. Dumbledore was dead. No one was safe. 

“No, they’re in Italy.” You spoke but it didn’t sound like yourself. You didn’t want to see them right now anyway. 

“Come to the Burrow,” Ron offered easily, “Mum and Dad won’t mind,” You nodded, not really hearing him. You were looking at Harry. 

“I’ll be right back,” You walked away from them without looking at them, going to stand beside the boy. You both stood in silence for a few moments before you choked back a sob, and he looked down at you.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, unable to look at him, as you were wrecked with guilt, “I’m so so sorry, I-”

“For what?” He asked, turning to face you, hands going to your shoulders. 

“I didn’t believe you, and you were right,” You cried, and Harry pulled you into a tight embrace. 

“It isn’t your fault,” He assured you, and you clung to him, continuing to cry into his chest. 

“He was my friend, I didn’t think... I never thought...” Harry nodded, smoothing your hair back, shushing you gently. 

“It’s alright, I know, I’m sorry.” You continued to hug for a few moments as you cried it out, Harry rubbing your back through it all, “It’ll be okay, we’re gonna be okay.”

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Severus Snape x Reader- Parchment and Cologne (Part One)

"Is it wrong? Like seriously am I completely bonkers?" You laughed to your best friend.

"Having a crush on our head of house/ potions master/ evil bat dungeon swooshy cape man? I mean it's not particularly great, Y/N, is it?" She laughed back. "Besides, why Ol' Snapey Boy when you could have Professor Lockhart? Now that, my friend, is man you could do you wonders.. if you catch my drift.." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you couldn't help but smack her with your pillow.

"Honestly, (F/N), I often ask myself how I possibly bring myself to be able to tolerate you.. I open my heart for 5 minutes and get attacked." You smirked.

"It's because you love me really.. plus, I should be asking myself the same question. My 18 year old best friend is going all heart eyes over human Scar." You looked at her quizzically before she answered your oncoming question. ".. muggle movie reference. I'm honestly going to force you to watch Disney movies one day." She swore. You rolled your eyes at her for changing the subject and slumped back in your bed.

"Honestly what am I going to do? It's beyond 13 year old me's little crush now.. ever since he started properly teaching us last year and with all the revision sessions he offered me I actually really like him.." You sighed and borderline smacked your head against the headboard.

"Why him anyway? You seem to have chosen the only man who is in love with a cloak. Seriously, he takes that thing everywhere. I'm 99% sure it's stitched into the man's neck at this point." She giggled the last part to herself but you heard it all the same.

"If you actually bothered turning up to our revision session and didn't make me be the only person that shows you'd see that he's actually really caring.. he's even cracked a few jokes every now and then" you smiled to yourself. ".. plus he's hot." You both began to burst out laughing again before you decided it was time to turn in.

"Try not to dream of your lover boy, Y/N... you have a study session with him first thing tomorrow. Don't want to be all flustered." She winked before blowing the lamp out. Honestly she wound you up as much as she could but, she was right, you do love her really.

The hours of sleep seemed to pass by within minutes as you soon found yourself wandering the great corridors of Hogwarts to the potions classroom, knocking three times on the door before entering as you always do. With simple 'good mornings' shared and a book left in your normal seat you got straight to studying. Popping in the same strawberry gum you never seemed to run out of, you chewed quietly as you got to work. Typically, Snape would stay beside you and help you answer any questions you may have whilst also asking many more of his own. In the few months of studying with Snape it was evident that the two of you created some kind of bond, whether it be him simply asking you how your day has been or letting you in to some memories of his, Snape was definitely becoming more open and comfortable around you. And you loved it.

Today however was different.

"I do apologise but I'm going to have to work on a half prepared potion that's been left at the back of my classroom. Although I say 'half prepared' in the sense that half of it is now on the floor. How Mr Finnigan has even survived this long in the wizarding world is truly beyond me." He spoke, walking to the discarded cauldron and working on the mixture of ingredients.

"And you're making it for him? Now do correct me if I'm wrong Professor but that's a seemingly nice action. Are you feeling alright?" You joked, glancing behind you and warming inside when you saw the small smile appear on his face.

"Don't lose your head, Miss L/N. I simply do not wish for this entire thing to go to waste... besides, I need Mr Finnigan to have a perfect example for him to refer to when he comes back this afternoon to write a 4 paged essay on it." The smile raised to the side of his mouth and, should it have been anyone else, you'd have dared say a slight wink followed. You felt your cheeks turn pink and turned back to your book.

"What's with the formalities all of a sudden? 'Miss L/N'? You're making me feel like a child again, Professor." You attempted to distract yourself from looking at the man behind you.

"Well then I must insist you call me Severus in such meetings as this. Of course you must understand you're only permitted to say this when we're alone, Y/N." God you loved it when he said your name but he's really allowing you to go by his own first name? Your cheeks burned more and you felt your cool hands rush to your face to calm them.

"Seems fair, Severus." You felt his name roll off your tongue and it felt right. You turned behind you and saw a shade of red begin to dust the older man's cheeks as he gave you a curt nod. Silence pursued. Minutes passed and you felt yourself begin to shiver. Of course the one day you decide to leave your robe in your room is the one day it's minus seven thousand in the dungeons. You attempted to ignore the goosebumps appearing on your arms as you read through another passage of Snape's hand written notes for you. Your concentration lacked as you began to rub your hands over your arms and you became uncomfortable. "Hey Profe-uh Severus? I'm just going to go-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before a sudden warmth enveloped you. Confusion took over before you suddenly felt like your face was on fire. Severus Snape. Had. Given. You. His. Cloak.

"You were foolish to believe it wouldn't be cold down here, Y/N. I took you as one of my smartest students and yet you clearly lack common sense." He mused, a playful undertone in his voice that let you know he wasn't being serious. You stammered out a small 'thank you' before continuing back to your work. Why had he given you his cloak? The Slytherin common room was only around the corner; you could be back in less than 5 minutes. You decided to stop questioning it and pressed on. Time seemed to drag in the newly found silence until you began to have a very very strong smell of tea. The same tea Sev usually has on his desk before every lesson, but you hadn't seen it today. Next followed the distinct smell of old parchment and? Snape's cologne? You turned your head to find nothing but Severus stirring the last ingredient into his cauldron. Weird.

"Uh, Severus? Can you smell that? It's like the library in here." You laughed a little. "And, not to sound weird or anything because I obviously don't just walk around and smell you.. uh.. because obviously that's not normal.." you began to mutter incoherently before realising you were actually mid-sentence. "... but have you like sprayed your cologne? Or whatever you use? Because it's really strong... not that it's not a nice smell because it is a nice smell but-" you were cut off by raised eyebrows staring in your direction. Before you could even mention the fact it smelt like you were sitting inside a teapot Severus cut you off.

"What did you say?" He asked, looking at you as if you were a mad man.

"That I smell old paper? And your cologne? What's so crazy about that?" You questioned.

"Nothing. Nothing would be crazy about that. Except I've run out of my cologne and all the books are in the cupboard... and I'm brewing amortentia.." It was almost as though the world had stopped spinning. He was brewing amortentia? You knew exactly what that meant.. you'd been caught out. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Your face burnt and your mouth became dry as you tried to form even a single sentence. Snape cut you off once more by taking a deep inhale of the cauldron in front of him. ".. I smell.. raspberry shampoo.. peppermint tea and... that strawberry bubblegum those Weasley Twins sell in that little shop of theirs.." You froze again. "So.. you." You felt like you were about to collapse. "I smell.. you." Good lord Y/N, Severus bloody Snape has just told you he smells you in the amortentia.. MOVE.

[crab-in-a-pocket]

Greetings fellow wizard fucker👋 I am very glad to find someone else who appreciates mr. Magic man! I would also like to request some headcanons of wizard and a shy farmer, please! Cause I would much rather hang out in a tower doing spells rather than overwhelm myself trying to befriend an entire town. Thank you!

aw shit this is so cute. not as general as the wizard and the (shy) farmer chilling but more specific as to how they got into a relationship mwah. lowkey based on the romanceable rasmodius mod and always @iniro's wizard portrait mod. quite long so you can check it out under the cut!

the first time you met him, there was a sort of relaxing feeling to his place. sure, cold stone walls and all that wizard jazz, but he wasn't pushy or too nice or judgemental. he was just... there

you liked that feeling. he didn't expect anything from you and you didn't expect anything from him. and he was rather good at ending conversations without making you feel awkward.

making friends with the townsfolk is cool but it's weird making friends with them just one at a time— you couldn't handle that. you had to choose.

the first time you visit the wizard for no reason in particular is a rainy, rainy day. lightning lights up the dark clouds and the thunderclaps are so loud it threatens to tear the sky apart.

you wanted to show the wizard some things you had found in the mines. a tiny, warm orb of swirling golden light, and a tiny, icy ball of pitch black ink. and you made sure to leave before it rained but by the time you stood at his doorstep, you were already soaked to the bone.

you hesitate a little— it was always like this at the start— and then knock firmly. once, then twice.

he is shocked to see you standing there, dripling wet at his doorstep. but he ushers you in after a slightly suspicious squint, and when he offers you tea and you hold the little orbs out to him as if sharing marbles, he is so, so, surprised.

he shows you what the orbs do, teaches you little snippets of magic, and then it carries on like so. it becomes a routine, a steady habit you didn't wan't to break.

he eventually tells you to call him by his name. magnus, you say, letting it roll off your tongue, practicing it. magnus, magnus, magnus. i like your name.

his amused smile helps you say with more certainty.

you didn't really want to go to the flower dance. you had no one to dance with and you had chores to do. but attending community gatherings is the first step to forging friendships, isn't it?

your hellos are weak and half-hearted. you finally crack— you don't want to be here ans you're desperately looking for a way out without getting spotted (bridge? pierre. river? willy, pam, leah, and elliott.)

eyeing a crack through the fences, you duck and slip past it, pushung past thick brambles and sidling past trees ubtil you reach what appears to be a steep sort of natural staircase. you climb it and, much to your surprise, you see a familiar face.

you aren't supposed to be up here, the wizard tells you. neither are you, you reply.

did you ask anyone to dance?

laughing, you say, no, i don't think any of them would like to dance with me.

funnily enough, he smiles back (though with a different sort of emotion, you couldn't quite tell which) and says, you could be wrong. you could be a very good dance partner for all you know.

oh, then, would you like to dance with me? you rib, grinning at him now.

the expression on his face shifts and it becomes unreadable. you're hardly surprised when he says, i wouldn't know the steps.

it is his polite way of rejecting you. you're quite sure of that. smiling, you tell him, well, i wouldn't know them either.

sometimes, you just watch him while he works on enchantments and spells. it's nice, watching him work on his craft while you read about firemaking, something you've been working on for a while. you've made a few crops bloom early and even grew a fruit out of season, but you've never tried making fire, something made of raw emotion and passion and magic.

you need to let the energy burst from you, magnus says. then, you need to pull it back in just so. he sounds like a broken radio at this point, always repeating it.

like a lighter? you ask, as if you haven't asked it a thousand times before.

yes, just like that.

you try every emotion. you try when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're angry, when you're not feeling a single thing at all, and when you can feel every damned feeling in the world. it doesn't work.

my hand is broken, you grumble, clutching your cup of tea so fiercely your knuckles are white. or it could be my feelings. probably my feelings.

don't be silly. your hand can't possibly be broken, magnus scoffs, taking the seat across you and picking up his own cup of tea.

incredulously, you ask, you think my feelings are broken? seriously?

magnus shrugs. yes, maybe, i don't know. put down your tea cup and give me your hand.

you oblige and lean across the table, outstretching your arm. he takes your hand in his (you've always admired his hands, rather large and long-fingered but still elegant. you imagined them to be soft... you didn't think you'd be right.) and you're taken aback at the sudden flare of emotion rushing through you. not one you've never known, but one you didn't quite expect.

he flips your hand over and his thumb presses into your palm. he is so, so, so focused on your hand (is that dirt under your nails?) that he fails to see you struggling not to blush

he tells you to flatten your hand, as flat as it can go, then he says something surprising.

how about you try and think of someone you hate? think of burning their face into ash. his face colors a little but his smile is razor sharp. that's how i first did it.

you laugh at that, startled, then you realize he's being serious. you try, trying to see your ex's face hovering over your palm being burnt to a crisp. you try and try and try until you're blue in the face.

it's not working, you tell him angrily.

a pensive look falls across his face. magnus has a tendency to stick out his lower lip as if he was pouting when he thinks. you feel your anger ebbing away at the silly face he's making. your heart pounds harder than ever and you can hardly look at him, your cheeks flushing.

he is still holding onto your hand when a fire bursts into life, white hot. it cools to a pale shade of blue, flickering like a kitchen flame. it is as hot as the summer sun on your shoulders, so hot it could burn.

magnus yelps. so do you, and the fire dies. your hand is unmarred but, clearly, at magnus' hisses of pain, you've singed his fingers.

i'm sorry, i didn't mean to! you cry out, a worried look on your face. to your utter shock, he smiles.

what did you think of? he asks, a pleased smile on his lips. your flame was as blue as spirit fire.

i- i- i didn't think of anything, really. i'm not sure, you stutter out, avoiding his eyes. fuck. you're screwed. he's always been good at seeing lies and he didn't like any kind of them.

his frown tells you that he didn't not believe your weak excuse.

you avoid magnus for a while. you break your comforting routine and you thrust yourself into making friends with people in town. it helps just a little, lifting your spirits. one day, in the forest, you see leah asking for your help-- she wants to reach a fruit on a tree. you never looked in the direction of magnus' tower anymore. you hesitate for a moment, then you help leah, your gaze anywhere but on the tower.

try as you might, your gaze is on the tower. how could it not be, when what you are drawn to is its sharp little roof and the large telescope sticking out of it, and the ivy creeping up and down its stone brick walls? how could you not be drawn to it when it was a place you could almost call home?

i shouldn't be prying, leah says all of a sudden once you've let her down and you turn to walk away. but you used to visit the tower's occupant, didn't you? i just always saw you walking back and forth.

you stare at her for a moment, and then two. yes, i did, you finally reply. i'll visit soon. just... not now.

you are far too confused to go back. not yet. did you really like magnus that way? or was it a fluke, just a lonely, touch-starved person reaching for a body to hold on to, friendships be damned? you didn't want to fuck this up. you haven't made a proper fire in a week. you miss the surge of energy, of power, of emotion. you miss him.

pierre has taken to selling bouquets. bright, colorful flowers. they're for a special someone, he says to you when he catches you looking at them curiously. for heartfelt confessions, if i couldn't be any plainer.

you buy one and keep it in your house, in a vase with water to keep it alive. you wonder if it is worth the risk. you can see the tower's roof from the second floor of your house. you settle in with the bouquet at your right hand and a cup of tea in the left.

it has been an entire two weeks since you've last seen him. in fairness, it is nearing the end of fall and most of your heavy rumination has been during your farm chores as you work to keep in pace with your harvest to prepare for the incoming winter season.

you decide to tell him that you like him romantically. and if he doesn't care for you in that way, you will try and salvage your friendship to the best of your abilities. it is a foolhardy plan, as magnus would put it, but it is the best plan you have.

the last autumn rain is slowly falling and you pick up the pace, not wanting to get the bouquet dripping wet. your bag hangs at your side, filled to the brim with glittering balls of light and darkness.

when you finally stand at his dooratep, lightning lights up the dark clouds and the thunderclaps are so loud it threatens to tear the sky apart. you are soaked to the bone, but you have heated up your hand just enough to dry your clothes at a pat and touch.

you hesitate a little— just like at the start— and then knock firmly. once, then twice.

the door swings open and the surprise on magnus' face would have been comedic, if it were not for the circumstances. he stares at you, lamely carrying a bouquet upside down, dripping wet.

can i come in? you ask, surprised at the unwavering tone of your voice. unless you're busy. then i'll go.

magnus nods mutely (you're confused for a second there, and he steps aside to let you in before locking the door behind you. for a moment, you two just stand there silently, drowning in the awkward silence. then, he breaks it just as you do.

let me get some tea for you, you're dripping water on my floor, you might get sick—

i brought something for you, you weren't actually doing—

for a moment, everything is back as it was and you laugh and he chuckles at the predicament. then, you try and stomp off as much water as possible right at his door. you keep drying yourself with your heated hand and you remove your shoes and socks, marveling at the warmth of the floor. magnus disappeared to make tea— you follow after him, careful not to ruin the bouquet.

so, why are you here? he asks, his tone careful, once you seat yourself at his tea table. you've been gone a while. busy with the fall harvest?

yes, i was busy. but i was also avoiding you, you tell him honestly, and you can see him stiffen at that.

why? did i do something?

no, i did. i was confused and scared... i didn't want to lose my only friend, you know. it wasn't right for me to just up and leave for 2 weeks, though, i'm sorry.

he sits across you and hands you your cup of hot, steaming tea. what did you do?

i acted like a fool, you say, taking a sip to warm yourself. you feel your confidence waning. you have never been so straightforward in your life— what on earth is wrong with you? so you see, magnus, this is for you. you jerk your head in the direction of the bouquet on its side, flowers a little limp and raindrops on its many bright petals.

he looks confused. confused but appreciative. er, thank you for the bouquet. it's lovely. and he leaves it at that.

you stare at him, bewildered. then, you start to laugh. you... you don't know what it means, then? you move your tea cup of the saucer and you rip your bag open, fumbling for the balls of solar and void essence.

no, i'm afraid i don't, he replies, starting to sound a little annoyed and exasperated. care to enlighten me?

you put the solar and void essence on the saucer and push it towards him. you smile a little mournfully at the sudden surprise on his face and say, it means i like you, magnus. romantically.

the room falls silent. he looks up at you and you can hear him thinking and you can see the flush on his face as he stammers out a response, but you shake your head, i was thinking we could still be friends if you didn't like me back. but that’s not fair for either of us, is it? you’re right and you know it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the hot shame prickling under your skin.

you turn to leave. i’m really sorry about this. i’m so sorry i had to ruin it.

no, no, don’t go. i didn’t know what the bouquet meant, really, i didn’t. i’m glad you were honest with me. look, i didn’t say i didn’t like you back that way. don’t go. please? he says all this in a rush and you freeze, trying to comprehend what he just said.

you... like me back? you ask, your voice suddenly meek.

i haven’t ‘liked’ anyone since i was a teenager, magnus says, mirth in his voice. but, yes, it could be just that.

a hand clasps your wrist and you turn around to look at him, his eyes shining with warmth and his cheeks a soft pink. are you still going? he asks, his brows knotting. you know he’s referring to the storm.

no. no, i think i can stay, you tell him, and you take your seat once more. to your utter surprise an amusement, you hear the scrape of his chair and find him sitting next instead of across you this time.

making friends becomes easier during the winter. you don’t have much to do, really, and so you split your time between the mines, fishing, the pub, and the tower.

you didn't really want to go to the flower dance. you had no one to dance with in particular and you had chores to do. but attending community gatherings is important, especially because you’re part of the said community.

you greet everyone cheerfully and they ask you about your farm. you’re grateful that they are too eager for the festivities to begin to make any more conversation aside from small talk. it is time to make your exit, you think

eyeing a crack through the fences, you duck and slip past it, pushing past thick brambles and sidling past trees until you reach what appears to be a steep sort of natural staircase. you climb it and, to your amusement, you see a familiar face.

you aren't supposed to be up here, magnus tells you. neither are you, you say cheerfully.

did you ask anyone to dance? he says, and you can hear the jesting undertone.

laughing, you say, no, i’d much rather dance with one person in particular.

he smiles back (though with a different sort of emotion, you still couldn't quite tell which, but you know it is something warm and sweet) and says, not that i would dance down there, but i think i’d rather dance with a very specific person, too.

oh, then, would you like to dance with me? you rib, grinning at him now.

the expression on his face shifts and he huffs out a laugh. you're hardly surprised when he says, i wouldn't know the steps.

you shrug, then reply, well, i could teach you. what do you say?

he blushes, but smiles in return. later, perhaps. when we are alone.

leaning towards magnus, you press a kiss to his lips, one he gladly returns.

[mcwerewolfblack]

Yule Ball: Part III - Professor Snape x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You and Professor Snape sort out a poorly written examination in his classroom, but somebody sees. With your reputations at stake, only magic can save you now... and a little of something else too, at a time most inopportune. 

Notes: Sorry this is three days late, but I wanted to edit it to perfection, since it’s been a year since the last part! Enjoy, I love all of you so much. Happy holidays x

@fandom-puff​ (sorry I know there are so many more ppl who asked to be tagged but I lost track!) 

Part One

Part Two 

Part Four

The soft bubbling in his classroom late at night was comforting to Severus. He found it helped him think... and grade test scores, as per what he was currently preoccupied with. The moon is full outside, shining through what little window Snape had left uncovered. He ignores the squawk of Hagrid's distant Hippogriff (that thing takes pleasure in ensuring he never got any peace and quiet as of ten o clock at night) and gets back to the paper. He scowls.  

"What is it with these twits?" he murmurs to himself, using his wand to mark a large "fail" on Ron Weasley's test, flopping it onto the pile of Fred and George's equally dismal efforts. Just then, he flips to one with your neat, flowery handwriting on it, and stops.

Well, what's the problem? Just mark it as you would any other student. Besides, this will be nice and quick. (y/n) always gets a perfect score on my examinations.

Beginning to read though, he finds himself beginning to frown. Wrong... another one wrong... He looks up at the ceiling, and clenches his jaw. Of course. Why should he expect any less, when you'd been all over him for the past month?

----

The next afternoon, you’re wiling away potions by watching your quill spin in its inkwell. Wandless magic, along with perfecting the art of apparition, is something you’d been trying your hand at for years, and the fruits of your labor are just starting to manifest now.

“Miss (y/l/n).”

Your attention moves up to Professor Snape, at the head of the potions room.

This your last class of the day, before a much needed weekend rest. You're supposed to get the test grades back this afternoon, and you have to say you're excited-- you studied long and hard for it, attempting to make Snape proud of a little more than your talents of bewitchment.

"Miss (y/l/n). May I see you after class?"

You smile to yourself. "Of course, sir." You expect he'll reward you, calling you his good girl, telling you all about how much you deserve him tonight. Snape was rarely pleased with anything, but you're sure he'd find exception in your astounding work.

After class had finished on the note of homework and groaning, you stay in your seat, assuring your friends you’d catch up later. Once the rest of the unassuming students had filed out, you move to get up and join him by his desk, but he strides over before you can, thwacking the test down in front of you.

"What… is this?"

You look down at it, and give him a charming smile. "The best damn exam you'll ever grade."

Snape makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan, sarcasm dripping as he says, "I insist you take a second look."

You frown, and look down at your work, flipping through. As you do, you become more and more frustrated. "But-- but I knew this one! This is... this was clearly draught of the living death..."

"Was it?" Snape asks patiently, staring at you with his arms folded, "I pray you never need to brew it, then."

You huff, glaring up at him. "Do you know, I studied for hours for this--"

"Don't lie to me," he hisses, "I know what you're doing. Fail the exam, get called up to see me when everyone else is safely in their dormitories and get the punishment of a lifetime.” He leans in, glowering. “I know how your mind works."

You balk. "You actually think I'd sacrifice my grades in potions to have sex with you?! You have more of an ego than I thought, professor!"

Snape sputters. It does sound quite far fetched the way you put it, but...

"Perhaps your exams are a little too hard," you raise your eyebrows, and push the test away from you.

"Perhaps. Perhaps I was mistaken as well..." He holds his frown. "I want a perfect grade next time, do you understand me?"

"Oh, perfectly. It's just I've been so preoccupied with extra activities, like the frog choir, that whole tri-wizard competition-- I mean the tournaments are bloody thrilling! They'll be leaving soon, anyway, with all the visitors. Also McGonagall's lessons..."

"There's nothing Professor McGonagall can do that I can't do twice as ruthlessly."

"Yes. I know," you smirk.

“Do not let it happen again. My class takes precedence… you should know that by now.” Snape waits, and when you don't get up to leave, sighs. "That will be all, Miss (y/l/n)."

“Will it?”

He turns back at your teasing tone, and already feels a headache coming on. He fell right into your trap… which wasn’t even a trap in the first place. He brought this on himself, truly. Perhaps he should just forget how to feel guilty. After all, how many times had this happened?

"I'm not wearing anything beneath my robes."

Snape gives a tight lipped smile. "I was never foolish enough to believe you were."

"Proved it a bit difficult in class..." you begin to shrug the robes off, "Malfoy was hanging over my shoulder the whole time, it's a bloody miracle he didn't get an eyeful.”

"Perhaps he did," Snape muses, "We'll never know." You watch him closely, parting your legs. He still looks hesitant, even after all these times.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," you bite your lip, starting to undo the robe, "But Professor… I want to."

He puts a hand on yours to stop you, and you look up in surprise. Maybe this is really where he would take a stand... you were wondering when he would.

But he smacks your hand away, giving you that look. "Don't touch." He turns you around, and slots himself behind you, dark hair falling against your cheek. "That's. My. Job."

You grin, and he slowly opens your robes, admiring how your tie falls between your breasts, perfectly centered.

"This will have to come off," he murmurs, taking the tie with the tip of his fingers, then stops. "Unless..."

"What?" you breathe.

He hums thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "Perhaps I ought to make sure you receive what you deserve. It was an abysmal examination score, after all..."

A thrill runs through you. "What do you mean?"

"This is the third time we've done this, and somehow I doubt it will be the last. You believe I'd let you get off without a punishment for your dangerous behavior?"

"I believe you'd let me get off.”

"Silence." Though he maintains most of his stern expression, you can sense his impulse to smirk. He takes the tie off, and ties it around your wrists behind your back, laying your back on his desk. He then begins to slowly tug the robes off, and groans when he sees your breasts bare to him in full. You moan, stretching your arms, and bite your lip, blinking up at him.

"You don't deserve what you have in mind," he whispers, "You deserve my lips on you, teasing you, bringing you close until I deny you what you need. That is what you get when you don't take my class seriously."

You whimper, rubbing your thighs together. "But Professor... please, I haven't touched myself all week."

He narrows his eyes. "Why? Preparing for something, were we?"

You avert eye contact, blushing. "I..."

"Go on."

"I expected a good grade. I thought you would reward me, daddy."

Snape inhales sharply at the name, and you see his hips start to slightly shift to rub against the desk. "Well, we both saw how that turned out. Knickers, off."

Just as you're reaching down, you both hear someone mutter an 'alohamora.' The door swings open on you and Snape. There, a boy your age stands, eyes a fraction wider.

"Krum," you breathe. He seems caught, and slowly backs away. Snape's eyes widen slightly, and you pull your robes back on. Before you can run after the visiting student though, your professor grabs your arm, tugging you back.

"He'll tell Karkarov," you protest desperately.

"He will," Snape nods, "Let him. There is little he can prove. It will just seem like dirty sportsmanship for the Durmstrang visitors to try and smear the reputation of one of Hogwarts' best teachers.”

Still... it was unnerving.

---

The next day, you're far more on edge than usual. A meeting had been called, as Snape had relayed to you, and you’re both so sure it’s about… that.

You lay on your bed, flicking your wand about as a feather dances atop you. It floats up, down, with each unspoken leviosa of your wand, and finally, you let it fall against your chest. You would much rather be practicing your apparating—it was a little harder, and would take your mind off the possibility of your getting expelled.

You try and push the thoughts of Snape out of your head, and replace them with where you want to apparate. Focus… focus…

In Dumbledore’s office, Snape takes his seat alongside McGonagall, Dumbledore, Sprout, Flitwick, Karkaroff, and Maxime. Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, he doesn’t say a word.

“Well. Let us bring to attention why this meeting has been called,” McGonagall begins, and Dumbledore nods.

“Quite right, Minerva. There has been an incident.”

In your dorm, you concentrate hard on apparating to the library. If you could only… focus…

“A special thank you to Karkaroff, for one his boys, Victor Krum, bringing this situation to our attention,” Dumbledore goes on. “It is a matter we here at Hogwarts, take very seriously.”

Snape is about to open his mouth, when he feels something under the table, directly in front of his legs.

You glance around, confused. Where had you ended up?

“A matter, I might say, that could even have serious repercussions if not looked into further.”

“Mon Dieu,” Maxime tuts, “What has happened, Albus?”

Oh, shit. Oh, shit! Your subconscious had won out. You had been thinking of Severus too much when trying to apparate, and had apparated to the meeting.

Snape could not, for the life of him, figure out what had just materialized between his legs. Pretending to drop a vial from his sleeve, he reached down to check… and the two of you came face to face.

Snape’s eyes widen, then he narrows them into slits. The glare is threatening in every way it could be, and you cower back a little.

I didn’t mean to, you try to mouth, but he’s already sat up again. His boot comes up, and lays to rest on your stomach, keeping you far away from him, yet close enough so the others can’t feel you. If anyone else was to check under the table, it’s not like you have an invisibility cloak—you’d both be dead meat.

“What, might I inquire, would this matter be?” Severus asks, in the most level voice he can manage. He was absolutely furious that you were where you were. Had you no shame? He was about to lose his job over this! You were simply taunting fate, at this point.

“I’m very glad you asked, Severus,” Karkaroff interjected with sinister glint in his eyes, “For this matter concerns you.”

Between his legs under the table, you try to apparate back. Only… you didn’t apparate with your wand on you. Damn wandless magic! Now you couldn’t get back.

“What have I got to do with anything, pray tell, Igor?” Snape is doing a rather good job of sounding unimpressed, bored even. You start to squirm, listening to his deep voice. It still does things to you, even in a situation like this. Especially in a situation like this.

“It is a matter of something Krum saw, Severus,” Dumbledore says slowly, “Something troubling indeed.”

Under the table, desire starts to creep up on you. You had been given a very rare, very exciting opportunity here. You could get back at Snape for grading your test badly, and have a little fun along the way… two can play at that game.

“You see, we have learned that it involves one of our students here at Hogwarts,” Minerva says sternly, “Namely, Miss (y/l/n) of (y/house) house.” You hesitate, then take the chance to unlatch him.

“Miss (y/l/n)?” Snape quirks a brow, “A model student.”

“Seems like such a lovely girl. Tres jolie,” Maxime comments.

Snape begins to frown, feeling your hands on his breeches. You weren’t. You wouldn’t…

“Yes, well there’s no doubt about that,” Flitwick says, “But the news we have heard of her is nothing short of shocking! Nothing we would expect from a young lady of her stature.” You take Snape out of his pants, half hard, and close your mouth softly around his tip. He tries to swat you off, but you dodge him.

“No doubt,” Minerva agrees.

“Surely…” Snape swallows, shifting his hips, “Whatever she has done… can be forgiven?” Oh….

“Why would you be so quick to forgive her, Severus?” Minerva asks, “We haven’t even learned of the situation.”

“I only wish to reprimand students when reprimandation is wholeheartedly deserved,” Snape clenches his jaw, giving you a good whack with his knee, “Otherwise, such punishment would subsequently lose its value.”

“Well. With that I agree,” Sprout speaks up, “But this, from what we’ve been led to believe, is a very serious issue!”

“Out with it, then,” Snape annunciates in that menacing tone, “What exactly has she done, and how exactly… does it involve me?” His hand grabs you by the hair under the table, and tightens. If you’re going to play with him like this, then he will remain in control.

“Why don’t we simply ask the boy himself?” Karkaroff smirks, and with a whisk of his wand and the utterance of Dumbledore’s secret password, the doors open. Victor Krum comes in, rigid as if he had been trained for battle. He gives a swift bow, and stands before them.

“Tell us what you saw, Victor,” Minerva encourages. Krum looks to everyone, brow furrowed. Snape guides your head, gritting his teeth. He’s already close, and he can faintly hear you moaning like a whore.

“Wait for a moment,” Filius says, holding up a finger, “I hear something strange.”

Snape coughs, trying to overpower the sounds of him getting his dick sucked by a slutty little student. “Must be Hagrid’s Hippogrif,” he grumbles, “The infernal thing does not know how to quiet down.”

“Buckbeak only caws at night,” Filius frowns, “This sounds much closer.”

Snape begins to sweat. This was it. If you didn’t quiet down your sounds of pleasure from under the table, you would both be found out, and that would be that. Disgraced, humiliated, cast out--

Igor clears his throat in irritation, and attention is once again collectively returned to Krum. Snape relaxes a little bit, this being the only time he’s ever praised his old death eater friend for interrupting something.

You smirk under the table, quieting your moaning down a little as Snape slams you back into him, your lips sliding down even further over his cock with each thrust into your mouth. It feels so good to be used, especially in such a dangerous situation—you’d never been so wet in your life, and you start to rub yourself, gasping softly and gagging on his large cock.

Snape curses you out in his mind. You’re a troublemaker, more than a troublemaker, and absolutely disobedient little girl. What he wouldn’t do to slam you down over a desk right at this very moment and teach you a real lesson.

“Go on,” Minerva encourages Krum gently, “What you say will never leave this room.”

“Unless required,” Flitwick sniffs, straightening his tie.

“Oh, Merlin,” Snape grunts, crumpling forward a little. He’s on the edge, he’s about to come… Everyone turns to him, their stares burning.

“Something to say, Severus?” Karkaroff jabs, sneering.

Snape’s eyelids flutter, and he white knuckles the table as his orgasm hits him. You moan under the table, feeling it on your tongue, and you come as well, biting back a whine. Fuck, you’re hit little whore… oh, yeah…

“Severus?” Minerva prods, frowning. Snape clenches his jaw, regaining his foothold on the conversation.

“Only a reminder that I am very busy and do not have all day. Consider this an encouragement, Mr. Krum, to spit it out,” he growls, then his lips tug up ever so slightly. “Though not everyone present in this room must take that advice.”

You hold back a giggle, and swallow dutifully.

Through the confused stares of the heads of houses, Krum finally speaks. Snape holds his breath, and you listen carefully, nerves buzzing. At least you went out with a bang.

“I was walking past Professor Snape’s classroom,” Krum begins, staring at the dark Slytherin head of house, “And…” Everyone seems to lean forward. “And spotted (y/n)…”

“Yes?” Sprout murmurs. Snape worries the inside of his lip. This was it. Perhaps he could apparate as smoothly as you had, out of this room. Though he could never match your impeccable timing, surely.

“—I spotted (y/n) stealing lacewing flies from Professor Snape’s personal storage.”

Snape nearly drops his jaw. Everyone at the table looks terribly scandalized, and he counts his blessings that it is not for the reason they should.

“Allow me… to explain,” he says, fixing himself discreetly under the table. “I had given (y/n) an assignment outside of class protocol, brewing a specially modified batch of polyjuice potion for extra credit. I have been tutoring her as somewhat of an apprentice.” He looks up at Krum with a curious sort of respect. “I… appreciate your diligence in reporting what would typically be an unforgivable offense against my private collection of ingredients, Mr. Krum. However, in this particular case… no further action is required, at the bidding, of course, of Headmaster Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore opens his hands. “Your explanation is quite sufficient, Severus. I see no further need to pursue any consequence toward Miss (y/l/n), if her intentions were warranted and academic.”

You sigh in relief under the table, and Snape smirks. Karkaroff is fuming, thinking the matter would absolutely ruin him. The potions master lifts his chin.

“Will that be all, then?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he growls, and rises. He gets out a small vial, and hands it to you under the table, as the others talk amongst themselves.

“Drink,” he mutters, and you do. Before your eyes, you begin to turn invisible. His potion-brewing abilities never fail to astound you. Flitwick and Sprout spot the slight elevation in the tablecloth as you get out and follow Snape. They frown at one another, and check for an open window anywhere in the office.

You follow Snape to his classroom, and this time, he locks the door.

“You are lucky he said what he did, you little harlot.”

You smirk, the small vial already wearing off. “He knows Hermione. Hermione knows me. It’s only natural he’d cover for me.”

“And what you did back under the table?!” he continues, cape billowing as he paces. You grimace a little, waiting for that. He just sighs, glancing at you. “Will be the reason for my nightly shut-ins.”

You saunter over, kissing his cheek. “I knew you’d thank me.” He doesn’t look up.

“Hardly. Detention for the remainder of the school year.”

“But sir!” You slowly start to realize what that means. “Ah. Yes, sir.”

He can’t help but smile to himself as you leave for your dormitory, admiring your uniform on the way out. Perhaps he hadn’t taken such leave of his senses when he had found you that night at the Yule Ball, as he had so forced himself to believe. Perhaps, instead, he had come to them.

[sergeantsporks]

Douxie Appreciation Week Day 5: Lost Family

No!

Beast.

Hisirdoux!

Jim!

I’m sorry! This is my fault!

Jim!

Our redemption.

I love you, Jim Lake Junior.

Jim snapped awake, blinking at the ceiling, disoriented. Not again. Not… he didn’t have any recollection of what had happened when he’d turned into that monster. Not really. But his nightmares seemed fond of reminding him.

Jim closed his eyes, but all he could see was the afterimage of every single friend he’d hurt, burned onto the back of his eyelids.

“Figure it out,” he told himself, “Note down what happened.” Jim took a deep breath, running through his nightmare. Arthur. Of course, that was how it always started, with Arthur taking control. Destroying the amulet. Usually the next thing was attacking Claire. This time, though… he’d been lurking in the shadows, had pounced, pinned Douxie and Archie down. Then…

Surrender Nari or the boy dies.

A sick feeling washed over Jim. He’d… held Douxie and Archie hostage. The Order had used him, had used Douxie, to try and force Merlin’s surrender. Merlin had died. Merlin had died in front of Douxie, who thought of him as a father. Jim had held Douxie down and made him watch while Arthur killed Merlin. Jim’s head spun, and his chest grew tight. He’d held a hostage. He’d used someone’s loved one against them.

He needed to talk to someone—it was like he couldn’t breathe, and he needed to talk to someone. He glanced at the clock. Five AM. Too early for anyone in Arcadia to be up, and he wasn’t going to make anyone wake up just to talk to him. He pulled out his phone, staring at his contacts list without scrolling or calling anyone, just feeling sick. Finally, he pulled up the internet browser.

What time is it in New York?

Xxx

Something was buzzing near Douxie. He sleepily batted at the air around his head. “Go ‘way, bees,” he mumbled.

“’s your phone,” Archie informed him.

Douxie rolled over, picking it up and blinking blearily at the screen. Who would be calling—Jim? “Hey, Arch? What time is it in Arcadia?”

“Five. Why?”

A jolt of panic shot down Douxie’s spine, waking him up more effectively than caffeine ever could, and he answered the phone. “Jim?!”

Jim’s voice crackled over the line, dejected and tired. “Hey, Douxie.”

“Is everything alright?! Is anyone hurt, is Claire okay?!”

“No—sorry, didn’t mean to make you worry. Everyone’s fine.” There was a beat, and then almost so quietly Douxie didn’t hear it, “Everyone but me.”

“Jim?” Douxie asked softly, “Is something wrong?”

There was another beat, then, in a burst. “Douxie, I remembered what happened when Merlin…” Jim broke off.

Douxie felt like the wind had been knocked right out of him. “Right,” he managed, “Hang on a second. I’m coming to you.”

Xxx

The call ended, and Jim sat there, wondering how Douxie could possibly—

A puddle of glowing blue magic appeared on the ground, and then a glowing blue Douxie popped out of it. Jim yelped, falling backwards over the edge of his bed.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!” magic Douxie peered around the bed. “It’s an astral projection. I did one before, but you were… you don’t remember it,” he finished awkwardly. “I’d offer you hand up, but…” he swept one hand through the dresser, going right through it like a ghost. “Probably wouldn’t be much help.”

Jim scrambled up to his feet. “Douxie… what are you doing?”

“I… sort of thought you wanted to talk. I can leave, if you want.”

“No!” Jim rubbed his arms. “No. I… I had a nightmare.” Saying it out loud suddenly sounded so… insignificant. He was wasting Douxie’s time—it was just a bad dream.

“Y’know,” Douxie said, not quite looking him in the eyes, “I met some blokes in Egypt once that said dreams were a way for the spirit to travel.” He gave Jim a tiny grin. “I guess I’m saying not to blow them off, eh?”

Jim sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “I think… it’s like everything that happened when I was…”

“Not yourself?” Douxie offered kindly.

That was a nice way of putting it. “Yeah. Everything that happened when I was… not myself… is trying to crowd in on my dreams, and…” Jim started to feel queasy again. “Douxie, did I… hurt you?”

Douxie shifted uncomfortably from one astral foot to the other. “You fought all of us. Just bruises, nothing serious.”

“Yeah, but I mean…” Jim sucked in a deep breath. “I kept you back. When Merlin was in danger, and I held you hostage and used you against him, and… he died because of that.”

Astral-Douxie seemed to stutter for words for a second, then sat down next to Jim, floating just above the bed. “When that… happened… Merlin didn’t give up. You held me hostage, yes, Jim, but… that didn’t stop Merlin. He didn’t surrender, he just fought to get me back. And Jim?”

“Yeah?”

Douxie gave him another tiny smile. “You didn’t squash me.”

“What?”

“Merlin fought back, he didn’t surrender. But you, you didn’t pop me like a grape when he did. Maybe Arthur was controlling you. But if he’d been controlling you all the way, you would have killed me when Merlin attacked. You didn’t have enough control to break free. But I think you had just enough not to kill me.”

Jim felt dizzy, like a giant pressure had just lifted off of his chest. Had he had any control? Just enough to not seriously hurt someone? Douxie had said that it had just been bruises—he’d thought it was luck before, but maybe… maybe it hadn’t been an accident. “You think so?”

Douxie nodded. “Besides,” he said softly, “if anyone’s to blame for Merlin’s death, it’s me. It was my plan.”

Wait—no, he hadn’t been trying to make Douxie feel bad! “We could play the blame game all day,” Jim hedged, “Maybe we should just blame the order?” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know Merlin was sort of your only family.”

Douxie stared up at the ceiling. “A dragon told me once that family isn’t just who you have. It’s who you’re with. So… my family’s a lot bigger than Merlin.”

“You meet a lot of weirdly wise people.”

Douxie chuckled. “Comes with the territory of being a wizard, I suppose.” He got up and stretched. “I should probably get going. Don’t want Nari and Archie to wonder why I’ve been staring blankly at a wall for thirty minutes.”

“Hey, Douxie?”

“Mm?”

“Thanks.”

Douxie gave him a lopsided grin. “Sure thing. You ever need to talk, just give me a call.”

Xxx

Douxie opened his eyes to find that Archie had decided to sit on his head while he’d been absent. “Hey!”

The familiar leapt down. “How’s our favorite ex-trollhunter?”

Douxie tapped one foot. “He’s starting to remember what happened while he was the beast.”

“Is that good, or bad?”

Douxie shrugged. “I think it just is.”

Maybe we should just blame the order?

Others—Archie, Nari, Claire, had told him not to blame himself for what had happened to Merlin. None of them had offered anything else—just told him to stop blaming himself.

Blame the Order.

It wasn’t your fault what happened to Merlin. No one would have been in that situation in the first place if Bellroc and Skrael hadn’t put them there.

He didn’t feel angry. Or sad, or… he just felt… relieved, maybe? It wasn’t his fault. Not all problems could have a clear person to blame. But this one, this one did. It wasn’t completely his fault, the order was at fault as well. Maybe his plan hadn’t gone as… well, planned, but that didn’t mean that everything that had happened afterwards was his burden.

Thank you, Jim Lake Junior.

@moppetwithamanbun, @einahpetsyarcip, @ohfuzzbuckets

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #239: Late Night of the Super-Stars!

January, 1984

1984! Can’t wait to make a bunch of Orwell jokes that are poorly thought out and land poorly!

But I guess it’ll have to wait since we’re on Late Night with David Letterman in this issue.

This sure is an interesting turn of events. Although the team we see on the cover doesn’t seem to be the actually active roster. They’re over in the corner box turned away - either from shame or because they’re off doing their own thing.

Because its Assistant Editors’ Month!

A fun-sounding non-event. Although, looking it up, very few books that were considered part of the event actually did anything with it beyond a slightly goofy issue box on the cover.

So we’re going to see some Avengers go on a talk show today.

Superheroes as celebrities! What a novel idea.

Anyway, I learned an interesting detail about the cover that would have totally missed me. The checkerboard strip at the top was a hallmark of DC comics around this time. And the round MC logo in the top right is an obvious spoof of the DC logo from this time.

It’s not much more than a goof for this book but the Captain America book released for Assistant Editors’ Month also had the checkerboard and logo and was a style parody of DC comics.

Last times: Vision went into a robo-coma from walking into an invisible dome created by Annihilus and only recently recovered the ability to talk. New Avenger Starfox hooked Vision up to ISAAC the Titan computer and overclocked Vision’s robot brain so now he can project himself as a hologram and has an even faster computer brain. At the end of Avengers #238, the Avengers got a call from Tigra about some nonsense going on in San Francisco involving Spider-Woman.

Meanwhile, Hawkeye got a whole miniseries all to himself where he met Mockingbird, lost his job at Cross Technological, his girlfriend revealed that she was paid to date him and also hated him, he teamed up with Mockingbird to uncover an evil scheme by Crossfire to kill all superheroes, Hawkeye lost his hearing by putting an ultrasonic arrowhead in his mouth but foiled the scheme plot, and married Mockingbird. He’s had a very busy week or so!

This time: Hawkeye comes back to the Avengers Mansion to show off his cool new wife.

Hawkeye: “Hey, everybody -- your wanderin’ boy Hawkeye has come home... And you’ll never guess what I’ve gone and done!”

I can just imagine Mockingbird replying “Me” with the biggest shit-eating grin. She feels the sort to do that.

When Hawkeye and Mockingbird arrive there’s no one to greet them except the floating disembodied hologram head of the Wizard of Vizh.

Hawkeye has also made the decision, for some reason, to not wear the hearing aid that Mockingbird got him so he can’t hear what Vision is saying when he compliments his new costume.

Mockingbird introduces herself for Hawkeye and Vision tells the two to join him in the medical labs so they can catch up.

When they arrive, Vision raises his volume so Hawkeye can hear and recaps everything that’s happened to lead up to him becoming a robot in a tube who can hologram around.

Vision: “[Starfox] set up a direct link between ISAAC, the world-computer of Titan, to better diagnose my condition. But, instead, my brain became overloaded with ISAAC’s energy-information matrix --!”

Hawkeye: “And you became several with the universe, right?”

Vision: “‘Several with the’ --? Oh -- hah-ha! Very witty!”

Overclocking his brain seems to have done wonders for Vision’s sense of humor.

He even finds Hawkeye funny now.

Vision also explains where the dickens everyone else is (because Hawkeye asks him where the dickens they are. Its so weird for Hawkeye to say dickens).

Jarvis was given the day off to visit his mother, Captain America and Thor are both busy with nonsense in their own books, and the rest of the Avengers are off to San Francisco because of that call from Tigra.

Hawkeye offers to fly out and give them a hand, which Vision declines since they’ll call if they need help.

Instead he asks Hawkeye how he met Mockingbird and Hawkeye recaps the miniseries in only five panels.

He’s better at this than I am...

Hawkeye: “Anyway, Mockingbird and I had made a pretty good team -- so when it was all over, we ran off and got married!”

Mockingbird: “What can I say? The big lug needed somebody to keep him out of trouble!”

That’s the task of a lifetime, Bobbi. But good for you two! Cute couple is what I say.

Vision: “Marvelous! I hope you two will be as happy together as Wanda and I have been!"

Vision and Scarlet Witch probably are the healthiest superhero marriage of this time.

Vision asks if Hawkeye and Mockingbird intend to stay in the mansion, which they do. But it’s cool because Mockingbird has security clearance from working with SHIELD so they won’t need to bother Mr. Sikorsky and agitate his hatred of living in the superhero genre.

After Hawkeye takes Mockingbird off on a tour of the mansion, Vision receives a call from his brain brother, Wonder Man.

Who, very reluctantly, is coming to the Avengers with hat in hand. So to speak.

Wonder Man: “Okay. Here’s the situation -- my acting career hasn’t been going anywhere lately! So my agent, without my approval -- used the fact that I’m a reserve Avenger to get me a booking on David Letterman’s show, and now, they want me to bring other Avengers along with me! My agent really put me in a tight spot on this one. I hate to impose, but -- !”

Vision: “It’s no imposition at all, Simon! I’ll personally call the network and confirm the Avengers’ appearance!”

Wonder Man: “You’re sure it’s no trouble?”

Vision: “None whatsoever! After all, we have many Avengers -- !”

You sure do! Not as many as you’ll have by the No Surrender days. But still.

Also, I love this can-do attitude from you, Vision!

This is a pretty low priority in terms of fighting crime and whatnot but Vision is like THIS IS EXTREMELY DOABLE, I AM THE INTERNET.

Although imagine how sad it is from Wonder Man’s perspective. His agent put him on the spot pulling sorta-rank to get Simon some media attention but the media is like ‘ok but do you have something better?’

This man is trying to improve his career and the David Letterman show looked at him and said ‘ok but what else have you got?’

Oof!

Anyway, Vision uses the superpower of being wired into the phone system to call up some extra Avengers who aren’t very busy right now.

He calls Black Panther, Beast, and Black Widow.

Their varied responses are pretty funny.

But Black Panther’s is probably the best. He interrupts a meeting with his advisers to take the call and then he’s like ‘yeah sure I can drop everything I’m doing to appear on David Letterman!’

T’Challa really would rather be doing anything but kinging.

Beast initially protests that he’s too busy with the Defenders to just jump on some Avengers business but...

Beast: “The Letterman show? Hey, why didn’t you say so?”

And Black Widow is unbusy sunbathing at the Waldorf Towers while between missions. She doesn’t really want to make a television appearance (it’s kinda counterproductive for a spy, I would guess) but Vision mentions something that has Natasha agree to be there.

Based on what happens later, I guess Vision mentions that Hawkeye will be there.

A couple hours later, ELSEWHERE, well if it isn’t our ol’ friend and punchline Fabian Stankowicz!

Remember this goofus? He attacked the Avengers right when everyone was feeling bad about Hank Pym? Iron Man easily beat him up while the rest of the Avengers breezed on by. Or when he attacked Wasp’s cool superheroine brunch? Which was a hilariously terrible idea because he got between She-Hulk and breakfast foods. Also, nobody took him very seriously there either.

I guess the Avengers didn’t bother to press charges either time because he’s not in jail. He’s at his home working on some machines while his dad criticizes how he spends his time.

Dads, amirite?

Granted, what he’s criticizing is Fabian’s tendency to pick fights with superheroes. And... granted. Not a great use of his time.

But apparently Fabian can afford all the robot suits he keeps attacking the Avengers with because he won the lottery.

So he has a pretty good position to shoot down his dad’s protests, really.

Dad Stankowicz: “Fabian, I’m glad your poor mother didn’t live to see what’s become of you... It would’ve broken her heart!”

Fabian Stankowicz: “Aw, gimme a break, old man!”

Dad Stankowicz: “‘Old man’? This is the way you talk to your father?”

Fabian Stankowicz: “What do you want, egg in your beer? Was it you who won the state lottery and got us out of the Bronx? No, it was me! I won the money, and I’ll say how it’s spent! And I’m gonna use it to make a name for myself! Me... Fabian Stankowicz!”

And when Fabian sees an ad saying that the Avengers will be on Late Night with David Letterman, he has an idea. A wonderful, awful idea.

Also, who the heck puts egg in beer?

I’ve looked it up and I get that it’s a saying but apparently the saying is based on people actually doing that! Why??

The next afternoon, at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, where the show 30 Rock and this issue of Avengers both happen, this issue of Avengers is happening.

A CBS page shows Black Widow to the green room where the other Avengers are already waiting.

Also: I know that it’s all the Avengers who weren’t busy (even though T’Challa really should have been?) but this is a fun roster.

Hawkeye, Wonder Man, Beast, Black Widow and Panther?

Heck, I could imagine this being the Marvel equivalent of the Justice League International team, one more geared for some light-hearted comedy?

Except we’re in 1984 so this predates that.

But you have Beast and Wonder Man, your comedy duo best buds. You have Black Panther and Widow being varying levels of straight man to the nonsense. And you have Hawkeye who can be very serious or very ridiculous depending on how hot-headed he’s being at the time.

This team could be hilarious!

(Avengers International. Think about it, Marvel.)

Outside the green room, our ol’ buddy ol’ punching bag, Fabian Stankowicz is in disguise as a repairman with a mustache as cover for installing some devices in the studio. Then he puts on a beard to disguise himself as Perfectly Normal Bearded Audience Member.

I appreciate his intiative although I doubt any of the present Avengers are gonna recognize this guy on sight even if he wore a t-shirt that said “I’m Fabian Stankowicz.”

Fabian Stankowicz: Boy, this is gonna be so sweet, especially after the way the Avengers made me look like a chump those last two times! This time, it’s gonna be different! This time, I’m going to have a ringside seat for the defeat of the Avengers!

Or at least the Avengers that were available to show up on the Tonight Show with David Letterman.

Y’know, I like Fabian Stankowicz. He’s just smart enough to be dangerous and dumb enough to be entertaining. I think there’s a place for an ineffectual doofus with delusions of grandeur in the foe Rolodex of any superhero team.

Meanwhile, back with said Whoever Was Availables, Black Widow and Mockingbird are meeting for the first time.

And luckily, they’re both mature adults who don’t act like you’d usually see in media when the missus meets the ex.

So with a fight to the death NOT happening in the green room, Hawkeye gets to asking Mockingbird about the errand he sent her on which was why she wasn’t in the room when Black Widow first showed up.

Presumably using every bit of skill in espionage at her disposal, Mockingbird got a copy of the questions Letterman will be asking during the show.

Because Hawkeye will be fielding the questions and he has made the decision not to wear his hearing aid. And has also made the follow-up decision that not only will he not be hearing anything tonight, he’s also definitely going to be fielding all the questions.

Mockingbird: “Why won’t you wear a hearing aid?”

Hawkeye: “No can do, sweetheart! The fewer people who know I’m half-deaf, the safer it’ll be for all of us!”

(I don’t really get this reasoning but okay, man)

Mockingbird: “Then why not let someone else be spokesman? This is supposed to be Wonder Man’s big night!”

Hawkeye: “Sure... but I’m the only active Avenger here! Give me a kiss for luck!”

Not for nothing does Mockingbird think that he can be impossible sometimes. And she’s only known him a couple weeks! She’s already come to the correct read on him in that short a time.

David Letterman starts the show with an opening monologue.

David Letterman: “Tonight... What can I say? Tonight is something really special! In fact, it’s probably the most special show we’ve had since our 'camping with Barry White’ program! Yes... hard to believe, isn’t it? But with all due respect to Mr. White -- I think that this show may be our greatest ever. But, as they say, ‘that’s for history to decide!’”

Imagine being a talk show host and getting to introduce the Avengers. Pretty neat.

I like that bandleader Paul Shaffer is wearing a Captain America jersey. Although that makes me wonder once again what merchandising is like for Marvel superheroes. 

Clearly it exists but did Cap sign off on a jersey mimicking his costume? Does he see any money from that? Or at least did he get to say that all profit goes to such and such charity?

Letterman introduces the Avengers for the audience.

(Fun how you can get a sense of their personality just by how they’re sitting. It’s the little touches that make a comic fun.)

Hm, I wonder how well the marvel public follows superhero roster changes.

I know that sometimes new Avengers rosters have gotten attention with press conferences and everything. And sometimes they just swap in and out members as personal business comes up.

Some of the people in the audience may not even recognize Black Widow as an Avenger. Becaaaaause, wait I don’t think she ever was one. She’s assisted on some missions and they were ready to vote her in when she vanished to go do a SHIELD mission.

Okay, better example, does anyone remember that Wonder Man- oh wait, he very publicly burst out of a crate in front of Avengers Mansion during press furor over a roster change. Also, he’s a pre-successful actor.

Black Pan- no, no. He was framed for killing the Avengers his very first day on the team. There was a manhunt.

And of course, everyone knows Beast was on the Avengers. He got around. Romantically.

David Letterman mentions that this group isn’t even all the Avengers because some couldn’t make it (read: were busy with more important things).

Which leads to a funny cut to audience where Beard Fabian is annoyed that this group is who got caught in his revenge scheme.

Fabian Stankowicz: Blast it, where’s Captain America? Where’s that &#%$ She-Hulk?

You better wash your brain out with soap before She-Hulk finds out you thought  that about her. She’s dunked people into the garbage for lesser offenses.

Beast decides that this Late Night interview is the best time to reveal that he’s quitting as a reservist Avenger to focus on his version of the Defenders.

Letterman: “Wow, that was some bombshell the Beast just dropped, Hawkeye! You’re group spokesman... What do you think of that?”

Hawkeye: First question -- ! “Well, David, the Avengers is a non-profit organization, fully sanctioned as a peace-keeping force by just about ever international organization you could think of!”

Letterman: “Eh-heh-heh! You don’t say!”

Oh god, Beast’s bombshell messed up the order of questions and Hawkeye is firmly sticking to script because he can’t hear.

My god, Hawkeye.

Letterman: “You know, I was just about to ask you something along those lines. You wouldn’t be psychic by any chance -- ?”

Hawkeye: “No, of the founding members, only the Wasp and Thor remain as active Avengers.”

Letterman: “You little dickens! You’ve been peeking at my question sheet, haven’t you? All right, I might as well as my next question which is... ‘I hear you were recently married! Is that true?’”

Hawkeye: “Yes, Dave... just a few weeks ago!”

Letterman: “How about that!”

Did Hawkeye just think they were going to blaze through the questions? Even if Beast hadn’t preempted the first question, did Hawkeye think that there would be no follow-up questions? No discussion?

I’ve been on the fence on whether the jokes about Hawkeye not hearing the questions are poking fun at deaf people or at Hawkeye and yeah, Hawkeye is definitely the butt of this joke.

Fabian Stankowicz loses patience for this very dry question and answer session and decides to start his attack nnnnow.

One of the studio cameras is secretly A GIANT LASER. Because. And it blasts the stage.

Mockingbird is watching this on a tiny screen in the Green Room and goes out to help only to run afoul of some kind of mechanized steamrolling dumpster.

Back in the studio, Wonder Man has found his new nemesis.

Move over, Grim Reaper. You’re one-dimensional and everyone especially me hates you. Hello, laser blasting camera.

Wonder Man: “Let me at that thing, Beast! It’s ruining my guest-shot!”

Beast: “You’ll have to wait your turn, Wondy! It just shredded my favorite shirt!”

Priorities!

You know, this was supposed to be about Wonder Man and he only got to say two words during the interview portion.

Dangit, Hawkeye.

Apppppparently, the audience is just assuming that this is all part of the show. A cliche, sure. But it makes sense.

Would you really have the Avengers on a talk show and just have them talk? That’s a waste of perfectly good superheroes.

Also.... apparently? David Letterman used to run things over with a steamroller a lot? So a steamroller looking contraption crashing through the wall to attack the Avengers does seem like something that might happen?

Also, Paul Shaffer decides to just roll with it so as not to panic the audience.

The show must go on, after all.

The steamroller also starts firing missiles at Beast, as ya do.

Beast: “Hunter missiles? I don’t believe this is happening on network tv!”

Wonder Man tries punching the steamroller to no avail but which does give Black Panther a chance to pull out the tried and true “Wonder Man’s fists carry as much bludgeoning power as Thor’s hammer!”

Y’know, originally, that was a flex that set Wonder Man as a threat to the team but after he joined, that never really seemed to actually be the case.

Imagine if Wonder Man always hit as hard as Thor’s hammer? Like, he’s minding his own business and then the Gorr the God Butcher arc happens and Wonder Man is like ‘huh, why do I suddenly feel like my punches could destroy planets light years away? That’s a very specific feeling!’

Fabian Stankowicz takes advantage of the spectacle chaos to walk out of the audience, plunk himself down into one of the interview chairs, remove his entirely convincing beard, and introduce himself to David Letterman as the guy who is definitely to blame for all the action setpieces going on.

Letterman, like Paul Shaffer, just decides to roll with it. Humor the guy. Ask him why he’s doing this.

Fabian Stankowicz: “Why? To prove it could be done! To show what one incredibly gifted individual can accomplish...”

Letterman: “... To get your name in the papers?”

Fabian Stankowicz: “That too! After all, the Avengers have battled Zodiac... the Masters of Evil... Doctor Doom! I want to make as big a name for myself as those guys!”

Letterman: “Seems to me that ‘Stankowicz’ is already a pretty big name!”

Badum pish?

He asks Fabian to explain all of his devices and Fabian is happy too.

I mean, he’s being a supervillain for the notoriety and supervillains already love to hear themselves talk so he’s double dipping into the ‘I will exposit everything at the drop of a hat’ well.

And imagine, Fabian built all this stuff in his garage with lottery winnings.

The steamroller thing isn’t just a steamroller, it’s also got a gravity generator. Which, I guess, makes sense if you’re expecting to go against a She-Hulk or a Thor. A regular steamroller isn’t going to do more than annoy.

Wonder Man fighting so hard against the roller makes it increase gravity so much that Simon and steamroller just fall through the floor.

Hm. I wonder what’s filmed in the studios the floor down. They’re about to have an exciting guest star in that steamroller.

Black Widow (still tangling with the laser camera) points Hawkeye towards Fabian. Although she has to shout and Hawkeye still doesn’t really get it but is happy to shoot an arrow at someone that Black Widow is vigorously gesturing at.

Alas, Fabian is one of those prepared villains we’ve been hearing so much about.

He built a force field too, and the arrow just bounces right off.

(Hey, uh, Hawkeye? What kind of arrow was that? Because it looks technological and you just shot it at this guy’s head)

Truly, can nothing stop this insidious yet not very menacing criminal genius?

Oh, I guess David Letterman can.

Knocks him out with a big knob.

It’s just plain big.

Prop comedy, amirite?

The audience seems to love it anyway. I looked up a clip of the big doorknob and it didn’t meet with this much applause. Maybe its because it was used to do violence this time?

Was the giant door knob a beloved part of Late Show lore?

David Letterman: “I guess that’ll teach you not to mess with David Letterman!”

That’s a line with weird energy to it.

Anyway, it would be a sad day for this random assemblage of backup Avengers if they were upstaged completely by David Letterman and his big knob.

Black Widow and Hawkeye finally manage to blow up the laser camera.

I’m not sure why it took them this long. Sure, the camera could apparently move, based on motion lines in previous panels. But the world’s best marksman couldn’t nail it sooner?

But the important thing is that eventually, they did do it.

The floor starts rumbling as well as Wonder Man flies back up with his belt-jets with the trashed roller and a shit-eating grin.

Wonder Man: “Sorry this took so long -- But I guess I’m a little rusty at tackling big hunks of tin like this!”

Fabian Stankowicz: Rusty? It took me a month to design that, and he totaled it in less than five minutes!

But since everyone’s focus is on Wonder Man (for once), Fabian tries to sneak away.

And runs smack dab into Mockingbird who has a lot of justified anger over almost getting run over by the roller earlier. But she just throws him over to some police that have finally shown up.

Letterman tells the audience not to try any of this at home, just in case any of them have gravity-generator osmium steel steamrollers lying around? And cuts to commercial, presumably so that some basic tidying can happen.

Hours after the filming of the show concludes, the Avengers TV Squad have returned to the mansion, with Vision wishing he could have taken part of this assistant editors month special issue.

Vision: “What became of Stankowicz?”

Black Panther: “Well, with all the charges NBC is leveling against him, the only machinery he’ll be dealing with for some time will be in the New York State Prison library!”

So, he attacked Avengers Mansion. He attacked Wasp’s superheroine brunch at the Van Dyne residence. That’s all well and good. He attacks the Avengers again in the NBC studio and the man is going to jail forever.

I guess the Avengers really haven’t been bothering to press charges on Fabian. But a massive media corporation isn’t so kind.

Since Hawkeye is technically the active Avenger (even though Vision’s hologram head is RIGHT there) he has to follow up on the thing Beast said about quitting the Avengers reservists.

Beast says its not right for him to be an Avengers reservist if he’s also trying to turn “the Defenders into a for-real group!”

Uh, Defenders fans? Wasn’t the appeal of the Defenders them being the not-team team? How did people feel about Beast going ‘ok but what if they were more like other teams instead?’

Meanwhile, Wonder Man is pacing, waiting for the Late Show to come on so he can see how he did when WOMP WOMP the show is interrupted by a special news bulletin.

Wonder Man is aghast that his big break isn’t even airing but when the special news bulletin is about a burning chemical barge, his hero instincts that he has suddenly swell up.

Wonder Man: “This... This is awful! What’re we standing around for? Let’s do something! We’re Avengers, aren’t we?”

Black Panther: “That we are, Simon! Let’s go!”

Beast also decides, hey, one more time won’t hurt and accepts his Avengers ID card back from Hawkeye.

And as they’re headed off to the Quinjet, Beast has a hopeful note for Wonder Man.

Beast: “Hey, Wondy -- remember, there’s a three-hour time difference between the coasts! If we can get this mess cleaned up in time, maybe some folks in California will still see you get your big break!”

Wonder Man: “And if we don’t -- ?”

Beast: “Well, that’s show biz!”

Pretty enjoyable issue! Like, sure, its a good for Assistant Editor’s Month. But if you’re going to do a goof, then you can do worse than bringing back Fabian Stankowicz for a third time’s not the charm.

Speaking of charm, having the Avengers appear on a talk show is a charming concept. Not a whole lot was done with it except the joke about Hawkeye answering the wrong questions but its still a fun idea.

And having the Avengers off busy lets us brush off some Also Avengers that haven’t been in play for a bit. That’s a fun idea that I wouldn’t mind seeing some more.

Have the reservists called in because of a situation happening when the Avengers are already busy.

Heck, I’d like to see a situation where the silliest and least regarded Avengers are the only ones available to respond to an emergency. Have them bounce off each other as a group. Maybe they’re mutually aware of their bad reputations.

Anyway, I expected this issue would be ridiculous but it was also enjoyable. Didn’t mind it at all. And (though by a different writer) the Hawkeye miniseries was very enjoyable too.

This is just feeling like a good era for the Avengers team.

Next time, apparently The Ghost of Jessica Drew. So she’s some kind of ghost spider? Nobody tell Carol Danvers.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I typed this post partially while a cat was lying on my wrist. That’s dedication. Which you can’t spell without cat. Also, like and reblog if you think its likeable and rebloggable.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #729: Dungeons and Dragons (Persona 5)

9:23 p.m. Outside of Leblanc Café........

Ann: (Smiles Brightly While Walking With Shiho, Ren and Makoto to the Café) That was a good movie night.

Shiho: (Smiles Softly) I agree. The new Godzilla movie was a lot more fun to watch than I thought it would be.

Makoto: You know, I've always wanted to learn more about the monster himself. His origins, his strength and weaknesses, how powerful his atomic laser really is.....and....how he even got it in the first place.

Ren: Pretty sure Futuba would've filled you in on all of that already. I'm surprised she didn't want to go to the movies with us.

Makoto: I'm more surprised at the fact that she wanted to spend time with my sister today. I hope they were getting along with one another while we were gone.....

Ren: (Gives Makoto a Reassuring Smile While Placing his Hand on the Café's Door Handle). Don't worry, 'hon.

'Door Opens and Bells Ringing'

Ren: (Turns Back Around Forward) I'm sure those two are doing just fine to- (Eyes Widened at What is in Front is in Front of him, Along with Everyone Else) ge....ther......

Futuba: (Gets Up from her and Speak in a Old Wizard Accent Seat While Wearing a White, Long Beard and a Wizard Hat) Greetings, love strucked travelers!

Sae: (Waves at the Very Surprised Gang While Having a Small Smile on her Face) Welcome back.

Lavenza/Morgana: (Happily Waves Hello to the Gang as Well While Wearing Respective Travelers' Robes)

Ren: (Almost Speechless) Well.......Guess we have nothing to worry about in that department.

Makoto: Sis......A-Are you..... actually playing-

Sae: Dungeons & Dragons with Futuba and the others? Why, yes my dear, yet somewhat naive little sister, I am. I play the role as a trained, Silver Knight. (Pulls out a Wooden Sword Right Beside her) While wielding an all powerful Excalibur in my grasp.

Futuba: I am the Almighty Wizard of the Ever Green Forest! Sharing and exposing my wisdom and power to those how DARES to seek them!

Shiho: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Weren't you like a mage at one point?

Futuba: Yeah, but I'd grind and grind a lot in my spare to till I was eventually able leveled up and evolved into full fledged wizard.

Shiho: Ohhhhhhhhh I see. (Smiles Softly) Nice work.

Futuba: (Smiles Brightly) Thanks! I-I mean....('Clears Throat') Thank you, lady friend of Blantent Fashion Diva!

Ann: (Gives Futuba a Deadpinned Look on her Face While her Girlfriend Giggles Softly at Her Dispense) Really?

Futuba: Yes. Really.

Lavenza: And Morgana and I are the wizard's humble apprentices who decided to leave their hometown in order to learn the ways of creating magical sorcery and use them necessary combat.

Morgana: (Pulls out his Wooden Sword) We also have swords. In case for urgent emergencies.....and if this whole magic gig doesn't work out.

Futuba: I heard that, Sir Cute & Fluffy Butt!!

Morgana: (Turns to Futuba with an Annoyed Look on his Face) Do you really have to keep calling me that throughout the entire runtime of this quest?

Futuba: Yes. (Pats on Morgana's Head) It suits you perfectly.

Lavenza: (Happily Hugs Morgana) Not to mention that your overall cuteness knows no bounds to the eyes of our enemies.

Sae: (Smiles a Little) I agree with both of them, Mona-Chan. You're quite adorable in your own unique way.

Morgana: (Starts Blushing a Little) You know, I I don't know why I didn't ask you this sooner but, HOW exactly are you able to understand what I've been saying this entire time?

Sae: I'm not really sure why myself, if I'm being honest...... Nonetheless, I'm.... somewhat glad that I am able to have a conversation with you.

Morgana: (Sighs Before Smiling a Little) Same.

Ann: (Giggles Softly) Wow, Sae. I had no idea you would be this interested that kind of stuff.

Sae: There is a lot of things you don't know about me, Ms. Takakmaki.

Shiho: Ooh! Like how you're the biggest fan of-

Sae: (Starts Rolling her Eyes While Sighing) Of Banjo-Kun and Kazooie-Chan. Yes! That is the honest truth unfortunately. You weren't even suppose to know that information if a certain SOMEONE didn't tell you before hand! (Glares at the Two Culprits, Ren and Makoto)

Ren: (Starts Getting a Little Scared by Sae's Cold Stone Glare) Ah shit.......

Makoto: (Chuckles Very Awkwardly and Nervously) I'm..... guessing....You managed to figured that one out somehow, huh?

Sae: Futuba told me everything. But it's fine..... I'm already over it. And besides, it helps become more laid back than ever before.

Makoto: ('Sigh') I'm happy for that, sis. But if you need any of us.....(Gently Grabs Ren's Hand) we'll be heading upstairs to-

Sae: Form a Cuddle Session among yourselves?

Ren: (Immediately Starts Looking Away While Whistling)

Makoto: (Eyes Widened in Surprised Before Looking Away While Blushing in Embarrassment) .............

Ann: ('Sigh') Geeez....... She's still able to see right through us, even when she's not in the courtroom......

Shiho: Yeah. That's pretty impressive.....and scary.

Sae: Very well. I'll let you four be for the night. Have fun, but not too much fun. Understand?

Makoto: ('Sigh') Yes, big sister. We understand. (Made her Way to the Upstairs with Ren, Ann and Shiho Following Her) Have fun with game night-

Sae: Makoto.

Makoto: (Turns Back to Sae) Yes? What's wrong?

Sae: (Use Both of her Fingers to Create a Heart Shape While Giving her Little Sister a Soft, Loving Smile) I love you.

Makoto: (Eyes Widened at Her Bug Sister For a Brief Second Before Smiling Softly Herself) I love you too, sis.

Ann/Shiho: Awwwwwwww~

Ren: (Smiles Softly at the Scene) Adorable.

Sae: Ren.

Ren: (Quickly Gives Saw Attention) Y-Yes, ma'am?

Sae: ............... You're a good boy.

Ren: ............................ I'm sorry. What?

Sae: You heard me. I said you're a good boy.

Ren: (Couldn't Believe What He is Hearing) Y-Y-You're kidding, right? You're not just saying that to be nice, are you?

Sae: ('Sigh') No, Ren. I meant every word I said. Despite our difference in the past......(Smiles Softly) I truly believe that you're a good person and already worthy of my respect.

Ren: (Almost at a Loss for Words) Wow. I..... (Chuckles Lightly) Honestly don't know what to say here. T-Thank you-

Sae: THAT being said.......

Ren: (Gets Startled by Sae's Serious Side Again) Y-Yes, ma'am?

Sae: (Gives Ren a Serious Look on her Face) You frequently make my little sister worried sick about you everytime you do something reckless and stupid. Which is exactly why I am ordering you to refrain yourself from doing that from this day forward!

Makoto: (Pouts at Ren) That goes double from me too, Mister!

Ann: (Glares at Ren as Well) And us too!

Shiho: (Nods in Agreement While Crossing her Arms)

Lavenza: I agree wholeheartedly in this in this request!

Morgana: Same here.

Futuba: By the power invested in me and it's everlasting glory!....( Points at Ren) I ORDER you to agree to the Silver Knight's command and take it very SERIOUSLY!...............(Sighs Before Talking in her Usual Self Again) Seriously, man. Promise us you won't be reckless idiot anymore, okay?

Ren: (Was About to Say Something Before His Phone Starts Ringing and Begins to Answer it) Hello?

Bayonetta: (On the Other Line) No more being reckless, young man!!

Ren: (Eyes Widened in Surprised) Mom!?

Palutena: (On the Other Line) Listen to your friends and mother, Ren-Ren!

Ren: Other Mom!?

Pit: Please, Ren? We're only trying to look out for you, that's all.

Dark Pit: In other words, quit being a dumbass already.

Kirby: Poyo! Poyo!

Pit: Yeah! What Kirby said!

Ren: Okay! Okay! I try not to be a reckless idiot anymore. I promise.

Sae: ('Sigh') Very well. I suppose that's good enough for us. Just know that we will have eyes on you for the time being.

Makoto: (Hugs Ren Lovingly) That's right. We won't let anything bad happen to you again, Ren-Ren.

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) I know you guys wouldn't, 'hon~ (Gives Makoto a Kiss on the Forehead)

Dark Pit: Oh God. Are they making out already? Just marry each other already!

Makoto starts blushing again while Ren starts putting on a deadpinned look on his face.

Palutena: ('Sigh') Don't make fun of your brother, Pitto.

Dark Pit: Hey, I'm just saying. If they're gonna keep being lovey dovey with one another, they might as well put a ring on it sooner or later........ Bet you $50 Makoto gonna propose first.

Pit: No way! I bet you $20 that Ren is gonna do it first!

Kirby: Poyo! Poyo! Poyo!

Dark Pit: ('Heh') Deal.

Palutena: NO BETTING ON YOUR BROTHER!

Ren: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes) Love you, guys!

Bayonetta: We love you too, sweetie-

Ren: (Finally Hangs Up the Phone Call Before Turning Back to Sae) Seriously though, thanks for the kind words, Ms. Prosecutor. And for..... (Smiles Softly) Trying to look out for me. Means a lot.

Sae: (Smiles Softly While Slowly Nodding) Think nothing of it. You four can proceed go to upstairs now.

Makoto: 'Kay. (Makes her Way Upstairs with the Rest of the Gang) Have fun on your quest!

Sae: Will do! ('Sigh') Glad I finally got that out of my system. I hope what I said that was enough for them to understand

Futuba: (Smiles Softly) You kidding? It was more than enough, Sae. I'm proud of ya.

Sae: (Smiles Back at Futuba While Simply Nodding) Thank you, Futuba. Now then......(Forms a Smirk on her Face) Shall we continue the quest?

Futuba: Let the Quest of Dragons Begins!!

@keyenuta

@princekirijo

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

@italian-love-cake

[carewyncromwell]

“Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on... So tell me when you're gonna let me in -- I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin. And if you have a minute, why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything, So why don't we go somewhere only we know?”

~“Somewhere Only We Know (cover),” by Lily Allen

x~x~x~x

Hi guys! Next up on my Valentine’s Day posts, here’s something for my OG girl Carewyn for the Valentine’s Ball, and um...yeah! I’m doing something a little different and focusing on someone who Carewyn does care about, not romantically, but platonically -- her good friend, Talbott Winger! I haven’t really dedicated much material to these two’s friendship on this blog, so I thought this would be a great opportunity! For Carewyn’s dress, I took some inspiration both from this very 80′s-style dress and from Sarah’s princess dress in Labyrinth -- her necklace is even a replica of one that Jareth the Goblin King wears in the movie! Talbott, of course, is wearing his Valentine’s Ball ensemble. ^.^

It was hardly a surprise to anyone in the seventh year class that the self-titled “Style Wizard,” Andre Egwu, had taken it upon himself to make sure those attending could look their very best for the upcoming Valentine’s Day ball. He’d even managed to make Argus Filch look presentable, a challenge just about no one else would’ve been brave enough to attempt. So Carewyn truly wasn’t surprised that her ex-boyfriend-and-still-good-friend had designed specialized outfits for all of their friends. She was a little surprised, though, when she noticed a tell-tale eagle feather on the floor of the Great Hall where Andre had set up some of his mannequins -- and so, after trying on the silvery-white dress and jewelry Andre had picked out for her, Carewyn excused herself, saying she wanted to try walking around in the heels he’d picked out for her to test out how comfortable they were, and headed out to the Courtyard. Sure enough, who should she find there but a familiar eagle roosting on one of the large statues in the moonlight.

Carewyn shot a furtive glance around to make sure the coast was clear. Then she approached the eagle with a smile.

“Hey.”

The eagle took flight, landing on the ground in front of her. By the time its talons should’ve met the ground, Talbott Winger was already standing in its place. He was dressed in a dusky purple tuxedo jacket over a disheveled collared shirt, rose-patterned vest, and pink tie, some gray jeans, and trainers.

“How’d you know I’d be out here?” asked Talbott.

“Lucky guess.”

The Slytherin Head Girl scanned his outfit, her lips spreading into a ruby red smile.

“So you were getting a fitting,” she said. “I didn’t know you were planning on going to the ball, Talbott.”

Talbott glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck as he smiled wryly. “Heh...yeah, not exactly my scene, is it?”

Despite his attempt at offhandedness, Carewyn could tell he was self-conscious. Her smile faded, leaving a slightly gentler expression on her face.

“...You look quite nice,” she told him kindly.

Talbott cocked his eyebrows amusedly. “Only ‘quite?’“

“Well, your collar and tie are kind of a mess and your shirt’s untucked,” said Carewyn coolly.

“And here I thought it was considered attractive for men to leave their shirts unbuttoned.”

“There’s a fine line between casual and messy.”

“Well then, you can hardly expect me to have seen it clearly enough to not cross it -- I only have eagle eyes some of the time.”

Carewyn brought up a hand to her mouth to hold in her giggles. Talbott’s expression softened a bit too -- Carewyn didn’t laugh very much, if for no other reason than her giggling was distinctly unlike her usual “perfect” image, so it was kind of cool, to be one of the few people who could prompt it out of her. Talbott and Carewyn’s senses of humor had always matched up really well too, which helped.

“Andre went all out with you, of course, as usual,” remarked Talbott with a quick glance at her dress. “But I suppose he always has treated you like his little dress-up doll...”

“Oh, hush!” scoffed Carewyn, but she was smiling. “I’m glad you like it, though...I might switch out the pearls for a pair of earrings Jacob gave me for Christmas. And as much as these shoes are lovely, I’m tempted to switch them out for flats -- heels can pinch your feet something terrible after a while, particularly when you haven’t broken them in properly...something you don’t know anything about,” she added with a nod to his trainers.

Talbott grinned wryly. “Nope.”

His eyes drifted off toward the sky absently as he settled down on the edge of the fountain. Carewyn lowered herself down next to him, fluffing her skirt out so that it was under her legs properly.

“I’m kind of surprised you’re going,” Carewyn admitted, though her voice remained rather gentle. “I mean, I’m only going because I promised to sing some songs for the event, to help ‘pep’ it up...and I’m much more the sort to go to parties than you are.”

Talbott flushed slightly. “Well, it’s just...something I figured I should do. I mean, this is our last year -- probably the last time we’ll be hosting anything like this...”

He slouched forward, resting his head in his hand as he looked up at the sky rather than at Carewyn.

“And, well...I wasn’t there, for the Celestial Ball,” he muttered, “so it’d...probably be my last chance if I ever wanted to...at least at school...”

Carewyn’s blue eyes softened. Stretching her arms out so she could rest them on either side of her on the ledge, she leaned back slightly and shifted her focus up onto the sky too.

“I’m sure your date will be really happy that you cared so much.”

Talbott looked at her, startled. She didn’t look at him, instead keeping her focus skyward with a smile. After a moment, Talbott cleared his throat loudly and looked away, his cheeks darkened with a blush.

“That...well...”

He looked down, trying to collect himself. Then he raised his head, smiling at her through his blush.

“...Hm...thanks, Carewyn,” he mumbled. “...I’m...actually a little nervous. Penny offered to help me with some dance lessons, but...well, it’s still a bit weird. I’ve never really done anything like this...and before I even asked my date out, I got asked by several other people too...”

He cringed, his expression visibly awkward and self-conscious.

“I don’t even get why -- I mean, it’s not like I make myself very approachable.”

Carewyn gave him a sympathetic smile. “It is really uncomfortable, to be asked out by someone you’re not interested in.”

Talbott snorted in soft laughter.

“Oh yes, of course you’d know the feeling,” he teased, his lips spread in a smirk. “Naturally Hogwarts’s favorite fashionista has had her fair share of admirers -- breaking hearts as well as curses -- ”

“Oh, stop it!” said Carewyn, smacking his arm lightly, which only made Talbott laugh more fully. Despite herself, Carewyn couldn’t completely bite back a giggle of her own.

“Still, you getting asked out, that makes sense,” said Talbott dismissively. “I frankly don’t get why I got so many invitations...”

“I do,” said Carewyn.

Talbott raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re a good man, Talbott. You’re smart, funny, loyal, talented...not to mention the air of ‘mystery’ you’ve got going on,” she added with a wry smile, and Talbott gave another snort. “But most importantly, you’re true to yourself. You’re not the sort to tell people what they want to hear or be what others want you to be. You’re honest and you don’t feel the need to change yourself...so you never have to wonder if the people who admire you do it for who you are, or just for the superhuman saint they think you are...”

Carewyn offered her friend a small, slightly grim smile, even as her eyes drifted off in the opposite direction.

“...That’s certainly not something I’m always sure about.”

Talbott’s smile slid off his face, his expression becoming a bit more serious.

“Mm...I guess so. Though there are plenty of times I don’t say everything I should...or even know how to say what I mean...”

“You’re more than good enough of a writer to sort those words out eventually,” Carewyn pointed out with an encouraging smile. “And at least when you do find the words, no one ever has to doubt that they’re sincere.”

Talbott smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

He shifted himself over to look at her better, adjusting his hand that had been supporting his head beside his neck.

“Really, though,” he said more seriously, “I don’t reckon there’s as wide of a divide as you think -- between what people think and who you are.”

Carewyn tilted her head in faint confusion.

“You hold yourself to impossible standards, Carewyn,” said Talbott rather brusquely. “You always have. Sure, you’re no saint...but you’re a good person. And good people -- truly good people, who want to make the world a better place and are willing to fight for it, even after life’s dealt them a bad hand...those aren’t easy to come by.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “...No, they’re not.”

Her lips spread into a fuller smile as she shifted over to look at him better too.

“We’ll get to really start working at making things better next year, won’t we? Once we get to the Ministry?”

Talbott smiled. “Yeah. Then I can take out the wrongdoers, and you can prosecute.”

Carewyn nodded. “And then we can go out for coffee and do it all over again.”

Talbott inclined his head in agreement, his grin and eyes both gleaming with determination.

“Sounds good.”

[noladyme]

The Princess Frog. Epilogue

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.  Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

I hope you have enjoyed  reading this, as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future writings.

- no lady

Tag list:

@ayamenimthiriel​

Epilogue - The Queen Frog

It was spring. The flowers in my private garden were budding; and a few were in full bloom – making them ripe for harvest. I walked past the chamomile; inhaling the sweet smell. It made me think of my Tootie. Thrude had passed a year ago – Eist having sent a letter with the information, and his warm condolences. Not long after, Mousesack had visited me. His grief was deep; but he had told me that seeing me still wearing her frog around my neck, brought him much joy.

“Mousesack; was I hurting Thrude, when she healed me as a child? Was she draining herself for me?”, I’d asked. The wizard laughed out loud. “Do you think all she was feeding you was chamomile and honey?”, he guffawed. “My dear; Thrude had years of training as a vöelve before you were even born. She knew how to heal using plants and other medicines; that was what she was using on you”. He took my hand. “She also didn’t have your powers. She was teaching you how to use what you had naturally in you; by using the words, that would help you in the future”.

And I was learning to use them properly. Triss saw to that.

Ylva had got a cut to her arm while in a tussle with a drunkard in a tavern, who had told her women couldn’t be soldiers. She’d insisted she didn’t need treatment; but I couldn’t let my personal guard walk around with cuts and bruises that might fester. So, I was preparing a poultice of celandine and wolfs aloe. Saoirsheen walked up to me, as I was kneeling in one of the flowerbeds.

“Your majesty, he’s here!”, she smiled broadly. Saoirsheen had been with me, as my lady in waiting, ever since Cynnes had passed from old age three years before.

My heart leapt; and I smiled broadly. “Where is he?”, I asked, almost giddily. “He’s shoving grapes into his mouth in your dining room”, she smirked. I quickly wiped my hands in my apron, and took it off; handing it to her. “How long has it been?”, she asked. I frowned. “Not since Foltests and my two year anniversary, I think”, I answered. “There was that midsummer feast the year after that”, she smiled. I scoffed a laugh. “Yes, but he was piss-drunk; and had his face buried in the countess De Stael’s cleavage”, I said. “Right”, Saoirsheen laughed.

I walked into the door of the kitchen; then made my way up the stairs, and down a hallway to my private chambers. Ajvin was standing outside the door to my dining room. “Is it true, my queen?”, he asked; his voice shaking with excitement. “Is it really him? Will you introduce me?”. I smiled and nodded. “I will, Ajvin”, I said. “You will see him at the feast, and I will introduce you to him. Maybe he’ll even let you accompany him in a song”. I winked at the man. “For now, I need to speak to him privately”. Ajvin nodded. “Yes, your majesty”, he said, and stepped aside.

I opened the doors to the room. I never had guards outside my chambers – or inside – except for Ylva. It made me feel uncomfortable to constantly be watched by anyone else.

By the end of the large table – in my own seat, no less – sat a blue eyed; brightly smiling man.

“Jaskier!”, I said. The bard sprang to his feet. He ran over to me; and took my outstretched hand; kissing it. “Princess!”, he smiled. I raised a brow at him. “Queen…”, I smirked. Jaskiers smile broadened into a grin. I put my arms around him for a warm hug.

We went to sit by the table. I gave the bard a light tap over the back of his head, when he went for my chair. He took a seat next to it instead. “Did you eat most of the fruit already?”, I jeered. “I had to”, Jaskier answered. “I was worried you might start throwing it around if I didn’t”. I laughed. “How have you been?”, I asked. “You know…”, he said. “Travelling. Falling in love. Performing. Falling out of love. Almost died from a djinn-attack…”. “That sounds like a story!”, I said. He smiled. “I haven’t written the song yet”, he winked at me. “So, my queen. You have asked me to come here for a certain reason”.

I nodded. “Adda’s 20’th birthday-celebration”, I said. “She was very clear that she wanted the great bard Jaskier to perform. I think she has a crush on you, from when she saw you at that midsummer feast two years ago”. Jaskier’s face lit up. “Really?”, he asked. I frowned at him. “Don’t even think about it bard; or I’ll have Ylva cut of your bollocks and serve them to you on a plate”, I said menacingly. “Besides; she’s still… having troubles controlling herself; after her difficult beginnings as a striga”. Jaskiers face scrunched up. “I’ll make sure not to butter that biscuit, then”, he muttered. I threw a grape at his head. He laughed. “There she is…”, he smirked.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. “He’s here…”, Jaskier suddenly said. I looked at him; my breath hitching. “Here?”, I said. Jaskier nodded. “He owed me a favor from… almost getting me killed”, he answered. “I insisted he travel with me here, as my bodyguard”. I smirked. “Last time you did that; he ended up with a child of surprise”, I said. The bard laughed nervously. “Yes well, I trust you don’t have any pregnant princesses wandering the halls”. I scoffed a laugh. “No pregnancies here”, I said. “We avoid them. Like the plague”.

Jaskier sighed. “He wanted to come”. “He said that?”, I asked, and poured myself a goblet of mead. It was Jaskier’s turn to scoff. “It’s Geralt. Does he ever say anything, unless he has to?”. He used to say many things, I thought to myself.

I took a large sip of my drink. “The feast”, I said. “Tonight. You will perform?”. Jaskier nodded. “Of course. But I thought you already had a court-bard.”. “We do”, I laughed. “But in all honesty; he’s terrible”. Jaskier laughed. “Why keep him?”. I smiled warmly. “He’s a good boy; our Ajvin”, I said. “And he’s managed to spawn 4 children with his wife. He needs the pay”. Jaskier grabbed my hand. “You’re a good queen, your majesty”, he said. “And a kind woman”. I grinned at him. “Maybe; but I still have the mouth of a fucking sailor!”.

We laughed together; when suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”, I called. My good friend – the court-enchantress – stepped in. “Triss!”, I smiled. “You’ve arrived! How was Aretuza?”. She smiled. “Filled with the grunts and moanings of old men; as per usual. I’ve come to celebrate the princess. I’m in desperate need of some cheer and good times”. I stepped over to give her a hug. “Well then”, I said. “Let’s have them!”. Triss nodded. “Yes”, she said. “But tomorrow – training!”. I scoffed. “I’ll be hung over…”. The enchantress smirked at me. “All the more reason to train. It’ll wake up your brain”.

I hadn’t used my powers for anything serious since my run in with O’Dimm. There had never been reason to. But they remained there; and I knew I had to control them.

Saoirsheen came into the room then. “Your majesty. I was unsure whether you wanted the velvet or the silk gown tonight”. I frowned. “Hel’s ass; can’t I just wear pants?”, I said. Triss laughed behind me. “Come, bard”, she said. “Our Zaba has preparations to make”.

They went to leave through the door. “Jaskier!”, I called after them. “If you sing that song…”. I looked at him menacingly. He grinned at me. “I’ll take my chances”, he winked; and he and Triss left the room.

---

I was standing in my bedchamber; brushing my hair. He’s here. It was like a jolt through my body, just thinking of Jaskier’s words. I wondered if he’d changed. I knew I had. I was older; though only a few years – but I knew that those years on the throne, had rid me of at least some of the rough edges of my former life.

I’d taken my role as queen seriously. My husband had been respectful, even kind. And he listened to me; and guided me through the complicated politics of court life. I recalled how terrified I’d been; standing in front of the grim man at our wedding. Not a smile had ghosted his face at any point of the ceremony. Just hardness. So I had taken him as being that. Hard. Cold. I’d had so much to learn.

Our wedding had been grand. I’d kept from crying my way through it, by reminding myself of the people that needed me to be here. Jaskier had told his most thrilling stories, and sung his best songs – even on my wedding-day I could not avoid The Foulmouthed Princess of the Skellige Isles. It had made my new husband laugh heartily. The first time I saw him smile.

I remembered that night with him – our wedding night – as we had shared a meal in private; before we were to go to bed.

I was picking at my food; heart in my throat from what was to come. And I remembered Geralts eyes before he turned around, and walked out of my life. “My lady”, my new husband suddenly said. Not my queen or my wife. “It is vital to me, that I make it clear, why you are here”. I gulped. “I am at your disposal; your majesty”, I whispered. “I need a queen at my side; and a mother for my daughter”. Foltest drained his goblet, and looked at me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the urge for a bedmate; so, I shan’t be bothering you for that”.

I was flabbergasted; sat, mouth agape. The king took my hand in his own two. “You will have a crown; a home; and public displays of my chaste love. And your cousin and his wife will have my armies”. He looked down. “My heart still belongs to my daughters’ mother; however repulsive you might find that. I hope you can live with me on these terms. If not…”.

I sighed, swallowed; and looked up at him, meeting his pained eyes. “And what of friendship, and respect?”, I said. “Friendship?”, Foltest asked.

“I can live with you on your terms. But I cannot be a puppet to be put on display, whenever it suits your majesty. I wish to be heard; and seen as a queen and woman in my own right”.

Foltest stifled a laughter, and narrowed his eyes at me. “I was told you’d be a handful”, he murmured. “I will treat you with whatever respect you earn from me; and I promise never to be unkind. Should this seem to you as friendship, I have nothing against it. I’ll welcome it”.

I smiled and nodded. “Then you have your wife”.

He put a chaste kiss on my hand. “And you have a husband”.

So, I was queen. And it was good, for many people. My cousin. His wife. Those were less important to me.

But then there were people like Saoirsheen; and others like her; who needed a safe haven, that I now had the power to create for them.

Ajvin and Lysa; and their brood of children. The bard sang and performed as best he could – bringing cheer and laughter to the courts hearts, every time he played a false note.

Filivandrel and his people – whom I’d promised to stop Nilgaard from using me for evil.

Ylva and her pack. She’d never gone back; but in stead was now my greatest protector and personal guard. Flaxon had showed up shortly after the wedding with a sour expression on his lips; and I’d informed my husband of his crimes. “Your majesty; you’d belive this woman over me?”, Flaxon said. “You ask me if I believe my wife – the queen – over you?”, Foltest said. “Yes, Flaxon. I do”. He’d been stripped of his rank; and now spent his days in a Maribor cell. The one I had been placed in myself, those years back.

Five years. Five years of learning and growing. Days of boring meetings, where my husband would roll his eyes at me behind the back of his counsellors. Days of working with Triss; and riding the fields and forests outside Vizima, on my stallion – Bayrd. I’d been a mother. Not to a child I had given birth to myself; but to a teenaged girl with a troubled heart and mind. And I’d guided her, best as I could, with the help of Triss. I would tell her fairytales about moonwraiths and witchers, succubi and bards. And I’d stroked her hair when she could not sleep from nightmares. I loved Adda, and she loved me. But she was difficult.

Saoirsheen joined me in my chamber; carrying a purple velvet gown. “Oh gods”, I said. “Not that one!”. Saoirsheen smiled. “The princess insisted”, she smiled. “Mother looks so pretty in that one, she said”. I sighed defeatedly. “Fine”, I said, and took the bundle of fabric from my ladys hands. Saoirsheen went to look for shoes for me. “Would you like to take a bath before the feast?”. “No”, I said. “After. I think I’ll need it to calm my nerves”. The half elf smiled. “He’s in the courtyard”, she said. I looked at her. “Thank you, Saoirsheen”. She set a pair of shoes on the floor in front of the bed, and took her leave.

I walked to the window; and looked down into the courtyard. I found him instantly.

He was talking to one of the stable-hands; with a very serious expression on his face. The man nodded – looking terrified – and took the reins of a red mare from him; leading it into the stable. “Not next to the black stallion!”, I heard the witcher growl after him.

My breath hitched; and – as if he’d heard me – he looked up. His amber eyes found mine; and I parted my lips – having to remind myself to breathe. Looking at me; his expression was warm and strangely sorrowful. His lips twitched into a smile for a second.

It was as if we stood there for hours; just looking at each other. Suddenly, his head turned; and I saw Jaskier walking towards him. The bard patted his shoulder, and said a few words; before looking up and meeting my eyes with a grin. I nodded at them both; and stepped away from the window.

I had to sit on the edge of the bed for a second; to control my shaking hands. Saoirsheen came back into the room. “The king is expecting you, madam”, she said. I nodded; and begun the task of getting dressed.

Purple velvet; draping over my body; like a 10 layer cake. White, frilly lacing across my chest, and at the bottom of the sleeves and skirt. I put on my necklace – the one with the small frog landing between my breasts. Saoirsheen managed to tame my hair into a somewhat regal style; and I went to join my husband, outside my chambers.

Foltest took my hand and kissed it. “You look beautiful, my queen”, he said warmly. “I look like a fucking dessert”, I said. He chuckled; and led me down the stairs to the great hall.

---

Horns blared when we entered the room. “Yes, yes. We’re here now”, I muttered bellow my breath.

Adda was already dancing; sashaying around a young count, who was having great difficulty in keeping up with her energy. I nodded at Triss, who was in deep conversation with a visiting wizard from Ban Ard - looking terribly bored.

Foltest and I went to our thrones – ridiculous things that I hated sitting on – to overlook the festivities. Adda looked at us and waved, with a grin on her face. Jaskier was playing a happy jaunt; and she skipped over to him, twirling around in front of him. He smiled cheekily; before looking at me. I raised a brow at him, and winked, then gestured at Ylva; who was lurking menacingly in a corner. The bard gave a nervous giggle, and returned his focus to his lute.

“We’ll have to get her married off soon”, my husband murmured. I sighed. “Yes, well… you know how I feel about that”. He frowned. “She’ll have the choice of man she wants”, he said. “I just hope she makes the right one”. I squeezed his hand. “We’ll guide her”.

“I received a letter from your cousin today”, Foltest said; taking a sip from his goblet. I’d turned him on to Skelliger mead. “With 10 barrels of your favorite, I’m guessing”, I said. He chuckled. “You know me too well”, Foltest chuckled. “He sends his best, and speaks of his grandchild”. I clenched my jaw. “Anything in particular?”. I had not seen Eist in years; and knew very little about his and Calanthes grandchild – the child of Pavetta. Pavetta herself, had drowned while travelling from Skellige to Cintra; and I knew that it must have broken Calanthes heart; making her overly protective of the child. “Not much. It grows healthily”, Foltest said. “Good”, I said quietly.

I was deep in thought, when suddenly the king sat up straight. “Is that the witcher? Geralt of Rivia?”. I looked up.

The doors had opened; and there stood Geralt – stripped of his weapons, and looking very uncomfortable. My mouth opened; but I couldn’t speak. “I haven’t seen him since he brought you here”, Foltest said. “Five years”, I muttered. “Yes”, my husband agreed. “I owe him a great thanks for his service”, he said smilingly. I tried to match his smile; feeling very short of breath. “Bring him forward”, the king said to his crier. I dug my fingers into the armrest of my throne; convinced that I’d fall of my seat if I didn’t.

“Geralt of Rivia; witcher!”, the crier called out, and an embarrassed looking Geralt stepped forward. He looked at Foltest, and nodded. “Your majesty”, he said. His voice still sent shivers down my spine – dark and brusque, but bellow it, a great warmth. His eyes met mine; and he got on one knee – bowing to me. Geralt doesn’t bow to anyone. He took my hand; and kissed it – the feeling of his lips to my skin an instant reminder, of where else on my body they had been. “My queen”, he muttered. He stood back up, facing Foltest.

“Witcher”, the king said solemnly. “When I saw you last, I did not thank you, for your protection and care of my wife”. Geralt smiled. “The honor was mine”, he said. Foltest laughed. “Come now, witcher!”, he said. “We both know she can be a bloody pain in the ass!”. Geralt laughed; and I bit my cheek to avoid saying something un-queenly. “None the less, my friend”, Foltest said. “I am honored to have you here for this celebration. Just don’t start any fights, or claim any children”, he jeered.

Geralt looked at me somberly. “Am I to understand congratulations are in order?”. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “No”, I said quickly. The first word I had spoken to him in five years. Foltest took my hand. “Alas, the gods have not blessed our union with any children”. He looked at me meaningfully. I smiled. Geralt narrowed his eyes at me.

Foltest drained his goblet. “Well”, he said. “I brought you forward to thank you, and so I will. Thank you, witcher”. He kissed my hand. “Now; I will go dance with my daughter. Sit with my wife; entertain her. She’s been very bored lately; I’ve noticed”. Foltest got up; and went to join Adda.

Geralt sat down in the chair next to me. We were quiet for a while. “A-are you well?”, I stammered. “I am”, he grumbled. We were quiet for a moment longer. “And you?”, he said. “Yes”, I smiled. Geralt looked towards the floor, where my husband was lifting my stepdaughter into the air; and twirling her around – to great applause and cheer from the guests. Jaskier was making a grimace; and trying to nod approvingly at Ajvin; who was playing his best rendition of The Fishmongers Daughter.

Geralts body so close to mine sent waves of warmth through me. “Does he… treat you well?”, the witcher asked. I smiled. “He treats me like a queen”, I answered. Geralt grunted. “With all that entails…”.

I looked at him and laughed. “Are you jealous of my husband, witcher?”. He scoffed. “What? The sweaty sister fucker?”. I frowned softly. “My husband…”, I began. “My marriage… it’s turned out very differently than what I had imagined. In spite of the sister fucking”. I took a large gulp of my mead. “How so?”. Geralt lifted a brow at me.

I sat up straight; trying to look completely at ease with our conversation. It wasn’t like it was his business – but I felt that he should know. “My husbands… carnal desires, aren’t much to speak of”, I smiled meekly. “I haven’t been with a man since…”. I bit my lip. “Your wedding night”, Geralt said. I met his eyes. “Since you…”. Geralt looked stunned. “Oh!... well…Fuck!”, he said. I smiled. “Well, not really”, I said. He chuckled and nodded. “Right…”.

Foltest came back to sit with me; panting. “I am getting to old for this”, he said, out of breath. “Do you dance, witcher?” “I do not”, Geralt chuckled. I smiled. “You don’t dance. You don’t sing”. I raised a brow at him. “Is there anything you do?”. He smirked at me. “Kill monsters and tame frogs”. I laughed. Geralt stood up and nodded his head at us. “I should go fulfill my duties to the bard”, he sneered. Jaskier was being held against a wall by a baron; who’s blushing wife stood by, looking at the scene. Geralt took my hand, and kissed it again. “Your majesty”, he said softly. He narrowed his eyes at me. “That dress looks ridiculous on you”, he whispered. I chuckled in response. The witcher went to help his friend.

“He made you happy”, Foltest muttered. I looked at him in shock. He squeezed my hand and smiled warmly at me. “I might be old, but I’m not blind”. I looked down. “I want you to be happy, wife”, my husband said softly. I sighed. “He did”. Foltest nodded. “We need drinks and music. Bard! Sing that song we talked about”.

Jaskier – having been let lose by the baron – stepped onto the middle of the floor; and began.

“Once a lady from Kaer Trolde fared, with skin so smooth, and beautiful hair. She held the heart of many a man; but mouths stood agape, when she speaking began.”

Foul mouthed lady, be kind onto me And I’ll be your thrall, I will never flee. Foul mouthed princess, have mercy, I plea And I shall be ever a servant of thee

The foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles The foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles!”

---

I partook in the festivities as long as I could manage; before – with a smile to my husband, and a kiss on my stepdaughter’s cheek – I retired to my chambers. It was good to see him, I thought to myself. He would be gone in the morning.

As she’d promised; Saoirsheen had had the maids prepare a bath for me. I shed myself of the monstrosity Adda called a dress, and was about to step into the tub; when I realized that they’d forgotten to leave towels for me. I didn’t want to call out for help. I hated being waited on; and only accepted Saoirsheens help; because she was more friend than servant. In combination, she and Triss made me feel like I was still in my Tooties warm embrace.

I wrapped myself in a robe; and went to the door, to make my way to the linen closet down the hall. I opened the door; and was met by Geralt. “Saoirsheen said…”, he began. “She said to bring you these”. He handed me two towels – one for my hair, another for my body. I took the towels. “Thank you”, I said, meeting his eyes.

I stepped back for him to enter. He looked around the room. “It’s very different that a tavern”, he said. “Or a wood shack”, I smiled. He grunted a smile back.

I went to lay the towels next to the tub. It was steaming. “I was about to have a bath”, I said. Geralt nodded. “Yes, of course”, he grumbled. “I’ll come back”. He went for the door. “No, please!”, I halted him. “Stay… talk. It’s been so long. The water is to hot anyway”. He smirked. “That’s never been an issue before”, he said. I chuckled. “Five years in a castle and on a throne has made me a weakling, I’m afraid”, I said. “Never”, he muttered.

I looked at him; unsure what to say. “B-but you. You’ve not changed…”, I said. “Never more than what I told you that time”. I have changed. You’ve been a part of that change. He looked at me meaningfully. I swallowed hard.

“There must have been someone else, witcher”, I said. Geralt grunted. “There was… maybe is…”. His expression became tentative. I smiled. “Our lives are different now”, I said. “I always knew… You don’t owe me anything, Geralt. You are allowed to love”. He sighed deeply. “I did love…”, he said; and met my eyes. “As did I”, I answered quietly. He frowned. “And now?”, he asked.

I took his hand, and pressed it to my lips. “You wrote your name on my life”, I said. “As I wrote mine on yours. What we were… are… no one and nothing can change that”. The witcher smiled softly. “What we’ve taken and given”. I nodded. “I can’t say that you will always have a place in my heart; because that would mean that you’d left it”. He grunted, and squeezed my hand.

I sighed. Take it. “There is another place you will always have, though. A place I know you will have to leave”, I said. “But… it will always be here for you when you come back”. He looked at me confusedly. “What do you mean?”, he said. I smiled; and slid my hands behind his neck. “For all your improved eyesight, witcher…”, I said, “… you are blind”. I pulled his face to mine, and kissed him.

It had been so long, but the warmth; the passion… it was all there. Geralts hands found my waist; pulled me to him. “Little frog…”, he breathed. “Always”, I whispered. Our kiss became heated – his warm body familiar; yet new. His tongue tasted like a million unspoken words. Words that he had saved for me; but could never utter. I pulled back.

“You can send me away”, he said. “I won’t”, I whispered.

Squeezing his hand; I stepped over to the door, and bolted it. I felt him moving up behind me; and his hands slid around my torso; as he drew in the scent of my hair. “Still…”, he said. I smiled at the sensation of his warm breath to the back of my head; and turned around to face him again.

I put my hands on his chest. “I want…”, I began. “Yes?”, he said. “I need…”. He pulled me towards him; and slid his finger from my chin; down my collarbone; and rest it by the pendant between my breasts. “Tell me, your majesty”, he smirked. My breath hitched; as the finger slid behind my robe; and found my breast – stroking softly just above my nipple. “Geralt”, I breathed. “Will you let me finish my sentence?”. He chuckled softly; and let his hand cup my breast - his thumb stroking the nub of the nipple. “If you can…”, he said. “Tell me. What is this place you have for me?”.

I took his free hand and drew it down my torso. “Here”, I whispered; and placed it between my legs; letting his fingers find my folds. He groaned as he found me already wet from want. I threw my head back and gasped; almost throbbing already, when his index finger slid between my labia; stroking the path from my nub to my entrance, and back again. “It is a good place”, he smirked. “Then explore it more”, I moaned.

He growled; and pushed me against the door; sliding two fingers into me. “I have missed this place”, he chuckled. “It is warm… slick… always wanting”. I mewled. “It’s wanted you for five years”, I said. He leaned in to me; pressing his fingers deeper inside my warmth. “Hmm”, he breathed into my ear. “That must be why it is so much tighter than I remember”. His palm began massaging my bundle of nerves; drawing swearwords from my mouth, not even I knew I had in me.

Geralt used his free hand to open my robe; and pull it off my shoulders – before dropping it on the floor. “I think the bath is cool enough. Let’s go warm it up again”. He drew his fingers from me – making me moan from the lack of contact – and put them in his mouth, tasting. The look of pleasure on his face; was enough to make me gasp and my tunnel tighten.

“I want to undress you”, I said. He smiled, and stepped back; letting my arms free for my task. I opened his jerkin, and pushed it off his shoulders; making it hit the floor with a bump. Running my hand across his chest; I walked around him. I slid my hands under the hem of his shirt; running them up his back, and lifting the fabric along the way. He helped me pull the shirt over his head.

I gently kissed the scar on his shoulder, where – so many years before – I’d treated his wound from the fight with the foglets. Cinnamon and neem. No chamomile. I felt him shiver under my touch. “Are you cold, witcher?”, I said. “Or do I scare you?”. He chuckled. “You’ve always scared me little frog”, he said. “But no more than now”. I stepped in front of him, and tilted my head. “What are you afraid of?”, I asked. He looked suddenly apprehensive. “That I’ll close my eyes; and when I open them again, you will be gone”. I smiled. “I’m here”, I said. “Now remind me that you are as well”.

Geralts eyes grew dark; and I swallowed hard, remembering what that expression on his face had led to, when we knew each other before. “Bath”, he growled. I gasped as he picked up my naked body; and carried me to the large tub. He leant down; as if to gently seat me in the warm water; but stopped a few inches above the surface – found my eyes, and grinned at me. “Geralt…!”, I managed; before he let go, dropping me into the water with a splash. I heard him laugh as I was resurfacing; and rubbing the water out of my eyes. “You’ll pay for that!”, I snarled; without being able to stifle my laughter. He quickly removed his boots and breeches. “I have the best currency right here”, he smirked; and released his hardness from his pants. My jaw dropped. I have missed you, I thought; sitting face to face with that most cherished part of his body.

Geralt stepped into the tub; making the water splash onto the floor. He sat down facing me; and realizing I was too stunned to move; he pulled me onto his lap, so I was straddling him. His fingers found my folds again. “Remember that night?”, he breathed. I moaned. “I remember many nights”, I smiled, panting. “At taverns… in haylofts… against trees… under the stars”. He chuckled. “You were so angry”. He slid his fingers into me again; his palm against my clit. “So beautiful”. I began riding his hand. “You wouldn’t let me come in the bath”, I breathed. “You made me wait”. He put his free arm around me; and pulled me close. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. “I won’t make you wait this time”, he growled into my ear; and his fingers and palm worked in perfect coordination – pushing and rubbing – until I was just about ready to come.

“Look at me”, he demanded. “I want to see your eyes”. Panting and mewling, I opened my eyes, and met his. His pupils were blown from lust; and his lips were pulled back into a snarl. “Do you want this?”, he asked; and I nodded with bated breath. “Then come for me, your majesty!”. His hand moved faster; and without breaking eye-contact; I rode him into extasy. My loins felt like they combusted; and my walls clenched around his fingers. In the end, I collapsed onto his chest.

He gently drew out his fingers, and removed the hair from my face to look at me. “This I remember”, he smiled. “What?”, I panted. “My well and fucked look?”. He growled. “I haven’t fucked you yet”. I felt his hard cock twitch against my stomach; and I smirked. “Well, as long as you’re here…”, I said. He narrowed his eyes. “Not yet”, he said. “I seem to remember as well; that you have a mouth on you”. I bit my lip. “That fucking lip”, he rumbled; pulled my face in for a kiss; sucking hard at my lower lip. “Get up”, he demanded.

I got out of the bath; my body dripping with water. Geralt got up behind me; his member rigid and wanting. “Bed”, he said; and with bated breath I walked over to the bed; seating myself on the edge of it. “No. On your knees”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you asking the queen of Temeria to kneel for you?”, I smirked. His eyes were animal. “I’m telling you, woman; to get on your fucking knees and face the bed”. With shaking legs and a pounding heart; I did as I was told. “Good”, the witcher said; passing me to sit down in front of me on the bed. He looked at me for what seemed like forever. Then his face warmed, and he smiled. “Please”, he said. I smiled up at him.

Sliding my fingers around his shaft; I placed the head on my tongue; instantly recognizing the taste of him. I let out a moan; and slid him into my mouth. He groaned above me; sliding his fingers through my wet hair. I ran my nails down his torso; playing with the hair there; before gently cradling his testes. I bobbed my head up and down; never breaking eye-contact with the witcher. He smiled at me so gently; making me feel as if I had never looked more beautiful.

“How many nights I have thought of you like this”, he moaned. “Your hair wild, and your eyes… Shit!”. He cried out, as I took him deep into my mouth, sucking and swallowing; so he would feel the tension around his hardness. “Careful; someone will hear us!”, he breathed. I pulled him out; and pumped his length. “No one will hear us”, I said. “My rooms are empty at night, save for myself – and the occasional guest”.

Geralt looked at me wonderingly. “You said you hadn’t been with anyone since me”, he breathed, as I continued pumping him; and lapping at his tip. “I said I hadn’t been with any men”, I smirked. Geralts eyebrows raised, and he chuckled at me. “You’re always a surprise, woman”, he said. I stroked my tongue from the root to the tip of him. “I like to think of my life as a series of journeys”, I smiled. He placed both his hands on the sides of my face; drawing me to him. “Well”, he rumbled. “Let’s go on another one”.

He met my lips; and let the tip of his tongue met mine; before picking me up by the waist; and straddling me on him. I grabbed at his cock; desperately wanting him inside me; but he took a hold of my wrist; stopping me. “No”, he said. “No?”, I asked. He bared his teeth. “Hungry”, he growled. My eyes widened.

As if I weighed no more than a small animal; he flipped me around; laying me on the bed. He grabbed me behind my knees; and tugged me towards him – the sudden jolt of it making me gasp. He kneeled in front of the bed, and looked into me. “Has it changed much?”, I smiled at him. He exhaled and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to taste it”.

I drew in a breath; and his lips closed around my folds. He stuck his tongue inside me; after which he slid it up between my labia – letting it flicker over my nub. “Still sweet”; he said softly; before diving in again – taking the same route. “But more…”. He paused. “What?”, I breathed. He sent me a wicked smile. “Royal”. I laughed; which soon turned into a mewl, when he once again dove in to me. He flattened his tongue; and stroked it up and down my slit – all along holding my hips down; so I couldn’t move. “Fingers!”, I moaned. I heard him chuckle, and he slipped his fingers into me again; pressing upwards. His lips closed around my nub; and he suckled at it. First softly, then hard – as if he was in fact trying to devour me. My legs began shaking; and I once again saw stars and contracted around his fingers.

As I was still laying – panting – Geralt moved up my body; wiping his face of my juices. “I think I’ll have you now”, he growled smilingly. My breath heaving; I nodded, and spread my legs further for him to enter me. “No”, he said. I was dumbfounded “No? Geralt!”, I panted. He smiled. “I don’t want to use you up to fast”, he said; sliding his hands around the outsides of my breasts. He sucked at my left nipple; while pulling at my right. “I don’t think I ever had you here”, he said.

My lips parted. “No, you didn’t”, I said. “May I?”, he said. I bit my lip; and he groaned; catching my mouth in a brutal kiss; before straddling my waist, and placing himself between my breasts. He pushed my warm mounds around his hardness, and began thrusting slowly. He was careful not to place his full weight on me as he went; but his eyes were wild – the amber staring all the way into my soul. I scratched my nails down his chest, and he growled.

He was pulling at my nipples as he thrusted, sending sparks from them to my core. My small mewls every time I felt one of them, made him smile. “I will have to be careful I don’t come like this”, he groaned. “You were always able to continue quite soon, after you’d finished”, I smiled. “Yes”, he said. “But I want to come inside you”. He lifted himself off me, and looked at me; eyes suddenly soft. “Can you take me?”, he asked “It’s not been long since you came last, and I don’t want to…”. “Just fuck me, Geralt”, I said, and laughed. He smiled widely.

“Do you remember that first night we laid in bed together? At the inn?”. He ran his fingers from my collarbone, between my breasts; all the way down my stomach; ending up in my curls, playing with them. I laughed and nodded. “I thought you hated me”, I said. “I’d just tried to run away; so you tied me to the bed”. He placed himself between my legs; and lifted my knees – leaving me open for him. “That whole night I was pretending to sleep. In reality I wanted nothing more than to press my body against yours, and…”, he slid his fingers between my slick folds, opening and entering me, “… slide in to you”. His breath was warm against my neck, as he began moving slowly; his thrusts soft and swaying.

“I’m not sure I would have tried to stop you”, I breathed; moving with him; his hardness and the delicious ripples of its veins sending shivers through my body.

“It would have been a bad-mannered move of me. I did have you tied up to the bedpost”, he chuckled. I returned his laugh; and gasped as he made a single deep thrust, bottoming out in me with a groan.

“Again?”, Geralt smiled. “Yes, please...”, I said. He kissed me and our tongues met; massaging eachother - as he continued thrusting softly; and then bottomed out again. The feeling made my walls clench - and I came for the third time that night; taking us both by surprise. “Fuck!”, I yelped; making the witcher chuckle at me. “It is good I can still have this effect on you”, he said, letting my walls settle around his member - still inside me. “Are you ready for more?”.

I gasped as he thrust into me again, “Slow and sweet is still not your way. Is it, master witcher?”, I moaned into his ear. “I can go as slow or fast as you want, your majesty”, he said; dark voice almost warning me. I scratched my nails down his back, and locked my legs around his waist. “What about what you want? Why don’t you show me that?”.

He lifted his head, and looked at me warily. “Are you sure? I might hurt you…”, he said. I swallowed. “I want you to do to me, what you wanted to do that night”, I breathed.

His eyes darkened, and he put his lips to my mouth, quickly pressing his tongue between my teeth, and meeting mine. I felt a sting on my thigh, where he was digging his fingers into my skin. His thrusts became harder. “Say it”, he said. “Say you’re sure”. His pupils were blown, darkness taking over in him.

“I’m sure”, I said.

He made a groan, and pulled out of me; the sudden emptiness in my core almost painful from want. He flipped me over with a single hand on my hip; making me lay on my side, and placing himself behind me. Pulling me close to him with one hand; the other one grabbed my wrist, and placed my hand on the bedpost; closing it around the wood. He wanted me to hold on to it; as I had been tied up that night. He grabbed himself, and slid back into me; bottoming out in one thrust. I cried out from the feeling of it.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, his breath catching. “Y-yes”, I stammered. “Don’t stop”.

His arm around my torso; he held me firmly to his chest – putting his hand on my shoulder, so that I was nailed onto him. “I’m going to move now”, he said. I nodded and panted in anticipation.

With a loud groan, he pulled back; and slammed back inside of me – making me feel as if he was reaching all the way into the deepest parts of my being. He made the same move again; this time making me shiver so hard from pleasure, that my hand fell from the bedpost. Geralt grabbed it, and firmly put it back around the wood; clenching it to let me know not to let go. His hand then travelled to my neck, lightly squeezing my jugular. He moved again, slamming into me with a force I didn’t know could exist in lovemaking. My walls began to clench; as Geralts thrusts became more consistent.

His chest-hair tickled my back, making me giggle. “Something funny?”, he growled into my neck. “It tickles!”, I laughed. He continued thrusting in to my core. “This”, he said, slamming into me hard, once, “tickles?”.

I gasped loudly, and followed the sound with a loud moan. He squeezed my throat a little harder. “I’ll show you tickles”, he snarled; pulling out, and flipping me onto my stomach.

He placed both my hands on the headboard; once again making it clear that I was not to remove them from there. Putting his hands on my hips; he forcefully lifted my bottom into the air; and gave it one hand spank – making me yelp in surprise.

“Too much, little frog?”, he said, sliding his hand from my bottom, up my spine to my neck; before grabbing my hair, and turning my head to the side. He leant over my body; his still throbbing member poking at my thigh as he spoke. “I can stop any time”, he smirked; and slid a finger between my labia, tracing the shape of my entrance. I shivered; shook my head and turned it forward – holding on firmly to the headboard. “Good girl”, he whispered; before smacking my cheeks one more time, grabbing my hips; once again bottoming out inside of me. He held himself there, letting me adjust to the sensation.

Not satisfied with his lack of movement; I moved myself forward, and backed up against him again; trying to coax him to thrust. In a sudden movement, he lifted my torso against his; one hand on my breast, the other holding my throat; slightly squeezing. His hold on me was strong, both arms around me like firm logs covered by soft leather; and I melted against his broad chest. His length was still inside me, like a warm rod; forcing me to stay upright. I winced from the sudden sting of his fingers tweezing my nipple; and felt my whole body shiver as his voice rumbled from his chest. “I thought I told you before”, he said. “Don’t play with fire”. “Well, you never did punish me”, I croaked.

In an instant my hands were back on the headboard, his own hand covering them; making me lean forward again. He began thrusting hard, continuously making my whole body jolt forward each time his hips met my ass. Placing his right hand on my lower back; his thumb moved between my cheeks, probing at the ring of muscle there, intensifying the sensation of his thrusts. The muscles in my thighs were seething from the strain of holding my bottom raised. Geralt continued to thrust into me; but realizing my predicament, slid his left hand under me to hold me up – taking advantage of his finger’s closeness to my nub, to tease and rub it. He was now stimulating my entire intimate area.

I could no longer moan silently; my walls once again clenching around him from the sweet sensations of his fingers along with his brutal attack on my vagina. I began mewling loudly, accompanying the sounds of his groans each time he bottomed out.

A thundering current, pulsating to the rhythm of his thrusts, began spreading from my core, throughout my limbs. It was at once a hot and cold sensation, that made my fingers shake, until I could no longer hold on to the headboard, and fell forward; with my face into the pillow.

Suddenly it felt like I shattered. A sweet mixed sensation of pain and pleasure spread into every inch of my body. My legs began to shake, my arms and shoulders jolted – and I opened my mouth; and screamed.

Geralt did not stop. Continuously moaning and grunting, he slammed, slammed and slammed into me; almost lifting me into the air with each thrust, from the sheer force of it.

I was losing control of my limbs, and the growling beast behind me was relentless in his excavation of me - while simultaniously rubbing and teasing my most sensitive spots; to force me to continue orgasming around him - giving him pleasure, and drawing mine out.

Behind me, Geralt roared; and with a final hard thrust into me, he came undone; and fell over me – our bodies still attached. Panting, Geralt lifted the hair from the back of my neck, and kissed it gently, before rolling of me, and onto his back; sliding out of me in the process. My face was still buried in the pillow.

He slid a finger down my back. “Are you alright?”, he asked; sounding worried. I turned my face to look at him; my body still convulsing in aftershocks. I tried to nod, but it disappeared in one of the jolts.

“Y/N?”, he asked, distressed. He pulled me into his arms, stroked my cheek and removed the hair from my face. His fretful eyes searched my own. “Say something!”. “I… can’t move”, I breathed. “Did I hurt you?”, he asked. “N-no”, I stammered. “I haven’t… so much… in a long time... ever...”. I couldn’t finish my sentence.

He breathed a gasp in relief, before laughing at my expression. “I told you”, he said; and pulled me to lay across his chest. “Mhmm”, I answered, my eyelids heavy. “You did. But I wanted it. It was good”. His chest rumbled from his chuckle. “Just good?”. “Hhmmm…”, I sighed, and yawned.

He put his arms around me, and ran a hand through my hair. “Sleep now, little frog. I might want you again in the morning”.

“Hhmnn frog…”, I mumbled – and drifted off.

---

He did have me again in the morning; twice. And then one more time in the afternoon, before I waved him off from my window; his note to me, still in my hand.

Until the next journey, little frog.

---

[whiterosebrian]

Being Merlin

On the morning of the last day of the past year’s Gen Con, I went off to the side to one of the convention’s venues and alighted in a room that the organizers set apart for meditation. I set up a few objects for a session of rune-casting. I asked which aspect of my anticipated vocation as a wizard I should focus upon at that time: some sort of activism, magical self-training, or continued development and writing on my novel. With my chosen technique of rune-casting, I ended up with a single rune, Jera. The name can be literally translated to “year” in the context of an agricultural cycle. Depending on context, it often refers to rewards after so much labor. In my interpretation, I thought of the years-long dream of creating meaningful works of art that will also be popular and successful. I decided that I should focus on fiction. However, I now wonder if I misread that rune-casting.

Even after nearly a full year of rethinking and readjusting aspects of said novel in hopes of starting it during the new year, I still don’t feel ready yet. I have to work a day-job and chase wages. I always come home after each shift feeling a great need to physically recover from a repetitive and menial task. Even if I did find some position or entirely new job that is less physically draining, I might still be mentally tired enough to need rest after each shift, thus forcing my personal time to be more limited. The novel that I worked so slowly on grew in scope and ambition, so I don’t know if I can make much progress on it in any reasonable amount of time.

The authoritarian, exclusionary, avaricious socio-political climate sweeping the world has further made me contemplate what I am to do with my life. Can I really be a popular public figure in the arts? Can I even afford to be so publicly in the line of fire of frog-faced trolls and wannabe Crusaders who screech about “woke” media? What about local governments that subtly criminalize “critical race theory” or serious protesting? How else would the ascendant radical right affect my daily life, much less the arts or the media?

At the same time, I still feel a need to do something meaningful with my life. I’ve said before that my longtime dream of being a successful and popular professional creator has essentially died. Maybe that is not my calling after all in spite of all the hard work that I put into developing my talents. I can’t bring myself to entirely abandon the wish to create really meaningful and enduring works—but, at least for now, it will have to go back onto the proverbial back burner. What now? Aside from whatever behind-the-scenes activism I might be able to engage in, I might refocus on learning magic.

Many of you might be inclined to describe magic as thoughts-and-prayers with extra steps—even at best. Does magic actually help out in the real world? That’s a totally fair question to ask. Serious magical practitioners don’t think of magic as making things come out of nothing—they say that it works with the laws of nature to bend the threads of life and fate. If I’m just a big fat loser with hardly any institutional power, yet I still want to make a very big difference in the lives of those around me and in the wider world, why wouldn’t I try magic?

For a great while I’ve researched and reflected on the runes as magical signs. When browsing internet postings of neopagans and occultists who work with the runes as magical signs, they put much emphasis on runes as sacred signs of nature, life, the soul, and the full numinous reality. They put emphasis on the seriousness of not only becoming intimate with the powers that they symbolize but also trying to learn about their places in real-world history. Admittedly, there’s a lot of confusing, romanticized, or outright bizarre theorizing that some occult and New Age writers might put within their texts. That’s why I’ve been taking so much time to read over multiple sources, meditate on the powers that might lay behind each rune, and work on a very extensive section discussing runes for my personal grimoire. I’m nearing the end of the process of writing about the full Elder Futhark (the runic alphabet most commonly used for spells and divinations). What comes next?

I could possibly learn magical herbalism. I could work on learning deeply from plant allies, as some healers and magicians call them. As far as history goes, herbalism is actually far better attested than runic magic. Herbalism, however, does involve plants that would be literally ingested or physically applied. I don’t have any formal medical training. I wouldn’t want to justifiably get in dire legal trouble for practicing medicine without a license! Should I start learning at least the basics of medicine? Even if I wouldn’t be able to offer any major treatments or procedures, I would still want to participate in the work of healing.

You’ve probably heard of the legendary Merlin, a powerful magician and wise advisor to King Arthur. He is believed to be inspired by Myrdinn, a bard claimed to have gone off as some point to live in the forest and gain mystic powers, and more generally the priestly druids who lived on the British Isles far earlier (and later depicted as powerful magicians in poems and stories). A handful of scholars say that “Merlin” is less a name for a person than a title for a great sage. Spiritualists might speak of Merlin as a blessed guide in tune with and empowered by the earth and humanity, bringing to life the archetype of the Horned God as a sacred masculine figure.

Am I, in fact, meant to be a Merlin-type figure first and foremost? Do I need to be a sage, healer, visionary, and leader first and foremost? Does this turbulent time need me to be a Merlin-type figure, one who contributes to re-enchantment and healing?

For any Irish readers out there, yes, I did read that the stories of Merlin came out of early conflicts between Celts and Anglo-Saxons. I’ve spoken about my Germanic heritage, including English heritage, in the context of moving away from modern whiteness, so I felt that I owe it to you to acknowledge that wrinkle. Then again, I have the impression that there was also a mixing of Celtic and Germanic cultures on the British Isles, which may be why Merlin, Arthur, and the rest of their entourage became associated with England. Anyway, the point is that I may need to throw myself into cultivating a role much like Merlin’s in twenty-first century North America. Actually, I understand my responsibility as an involuntary member of the colonizer class (even Irish have been assimilated into whiteness) to uplift and aid those far more marginalized and vulnerable than myself. We are all peoples of the earth. Reviving ancient heritages and cultures rooted in nature and communion should uplift all of us. That certainly includes relationships among people.

I play-acted as a wizard during a phase within my adolescence, though I only knew wizardry as a storytelling device and took inspiration from fantasy games and movies. Even a little later on, when I bought and read over books for fantasy tabletop RPGs while barely touching the actual games, I still imagined myself as a wizard, props and all. I was a youngster, so of course I would have been quite silly and cringe-inducing. Even after I converted to Catholicism, I still had an interest in all things mystical—sadly, in the context of conspiracist fundamentalism, it could have led me into a very dark place. I had more of an interest in stories of magic and mysticism than straightforward science fiction. Towards the end of my time as a Catholic, I briefly wondered if I might dabble in divine magic as a way of connecting with the divine and bringing divine power to earth—though I rejected that notion as I wanted to be loyal to the Church. Now that I’m an animistic neopagan, maybe I can and should wield divine power.

That bit of personal history raises a question about what the aforementioned rune-casting during a convention for tabletop games might have been really telling me. Was being a serious magical practitioner my real subconscious desire all along, one that would soon come to fruition according to the Jera rune? Proper divination can be difficult, especially for complicated personal questions, so I don’t blame you if you dismiss divination as complete hooey.

During a session of rune-casting towards the end of a later family trip, while I thought about Freya and Freyr along the magical and mystical elves, the runes Ingwaz, Agliz, Eihwaz, and Othala showed up. Together, in light of thoughts and feelings that I had throughout the trip, they seemingly suggested the affirmation of the new path of animistic magic that I was beginning to embark upon. Maybe I do need to be a sort of Merlin.

I did think if I were to become a wizard who goes around serving the community, seeking spirits, and agitating for justice, I would go on real magical adventures. Make no mistake—those would not be glamorous. I would face hardships far graver than any unfavorable rolls on a twenty-sided die. I could potentially face the worst horrors of life in a wounded world. The weight of responsibility could weigh on me terribly. Even then, I may need to expose myself to said hardships. This is certainly not a time for me to become lazy or self-absorbed. This is a time where I need to begin stepping up for the earth and its denizens in whatever capacity.

If anyone reading this is a magical practitioner or neopagan, by all means please consider commenting. I welcome whatever insights you might have regarding what I’ve shared here. Even if you aren’t, even if you hardly understand what I’m talking about, you’re still welcome to speak from the heart.

I don’t know if I’m coming off as repetitive in light of other recent journal entries. Wherever I might have repeated myself, I hope that I at least put the same basic ideas into whole new contexts. Once again, I’m concerned that I’ve failed to convey the somewhat convoluted strands of thought coherently or clearly. Thank you for bearing with me. This has been another emotionally heavy journal entry to compose and type.

I may be going through something far deeper than a midlife crisis. I may be going through a mystically driven transformation. If I should be a Merlin, then so be it.